My Best Friend's Keeper
Title: My Best Friend's Keeper
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~3,700
Summary: When Brittany is diagnosed with epilepsy Santana knows it won't be easy but she also knows that she'll always be there.
Author's note: Slightly AU. Plausible, though.
The first time it happens Santana and Brittany are eight. They’re sitting on the floor in Brittany’s living room, one of them on either side of the coffee table, with a checkers board in between them. Brittany is red, Santana is black. So far it’s tied; they each have four of the other’s checkers. It’s Brittany’s turn. She’s been concentrating for forever, Santana thinks. Really, it’s only been about twenty seconds but Brittany hasn’t done anything but stare.
“Come on, Britt, make a move,” Santana whines.
Brittany doesn’t say anything.
“Britt? Come on!”
Brittany blinks a few times and looks around. “Is it my turn?” she asks.
Santana furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head. “Yeah, you been lookin’ at the board for like, ever.”
Brittany tilts her head. “Oh.” She looks back down at the board and makes her move and the game continues.
Three days later, Brittany’s mom asks Santana to help Brittany with her reading. Santana is more than happy to help; she knows Brittany has been struggling with reading lately and she’ll do anything to help her friend. She’s sitting with Brittany on the couch in the living room and the blonde is making her way through James and the Giant Peach. She’s doing just fine until she stops abruptly.
“Britt? Come on, you know this word,” Santana encourages her friend. “Britt?”
Brittany is staring at the page blankly. She doesn’t even look like she’s thinking. Santana waves a hand in front of her friend’s face with no response. It’s then that she starts to worry.
“Britt, this isn’t funny. Stop messing around.”
Brittany blinks a few times and her eyes dart across the page and she starts reading again like nothing ever happened. The only problem is she starts reading three paragraphs before where she left off.
“You already read this part,” Santana says quietly.
“No I didn’t.”
“Yeah, B, you did.”
“I don’t remember reading it.”
“You did.”
When Brittany goes upstairs to look for her colored pencils, Santana goes into the kitchen where Brittany’s mom is shuffling around getting a snack ready for the girls.
“Something’s wrong with Brittany,” Santana says.
The older blonde woman turns around and furrows her eyebrows. “Is she sick?”
“I don’t know.” Santana shrugs. “She was readin’ and then stopped for like…a long time…and then she started readin’ again but it was way before where she stopped.”
Brittany’s mother just shakes her head. “She spaces out sometimes, sweetie, she’s alright.”
“I don’t think she is,” Santana retaliates. “She won’t listen to me when I talk to her. Something’s wrong.”
“Don’t you worry,” the older woman says with a smile. “Thank you for helping her with her reading, Santana.”
Santana sighs and sulks back to the living room.
It keeps happening. It starts happening more often, Santana notices. By Christmas break it’s up to twice, sometimes three times a day. Santana constantly begs Brittany’s parents to take her to a doctor but they only smile and tell her that Brittany is fine. Santana growls every time.
When they return to school from Christmas break Brittany keeps spacing out. Her teachers are reprimanding her for it and keeping her inside at recess for not paying attention. Santana always stays behind to accompany her friend.
During math one day, Brittany spaces out. Santana chews her lower lip nervously and waits for the blonde to come to so Santana can share her multiplication notes. The teacher calls on Santana to answer a problem and the Latina does, not noticing that Brittany had snapped back.
“San,” Brittany whispers when Santana finishes answering the teacher. “San, I don’t get it.”
“It’s okay, Britt. I’ll help-“
“Santana, Brittany,” the teacher says sternly, “I’ve warned you two already. No more talking in class.”
“I was helping-“
“If Brittany needs help she can stay inside during recess,” the teacher snaps.
There’s a murmured giggle in the class and Santana hears Noah Puckerman mutter “retard”. Santana clenches her fists and growls. “Shut up, Noah! I’ll beat you up!”
The boy laughs and Santana stands to leap across the table when a small voice stops her.
“San, I feel funny.”
Santana turns just in time to see Brittany fall out of her chair…and start shaking violently. Santana drops to her knees and the teacher tells her aide to get all of the kids out of the classroom and she calls the nurse.
“What’s wrong with her?!” Santana shrieks. “Fix it!”
“Santana, sweetie, you need to go with the rest of the class.”
“No! You fix her!”
The nurse comes rushing in and whispers to the teacher and Santana is panicking as she watches the nurse turn Brittany on her side. Santana reaches out and grips onto Brittany’s hand and tries to stay strong as she doesn’t get any response.
“Britt…Britt, come on. Please wake up!”
“Santana,” the teacher says softly, “Santana, we need to go, okay?”
“No!”
Santana hears the teacher sigh and then she’s literally dragged out of the classroom kicking and screaming just as she sees a man and a woman in dark blue jumpsuits with a stretcher going into the classroom. Santana stays glued to the door, peering through the window. She can’t see anything, the people are in the way, but after a while one of them moves and Brittany is strapped to a bright orange board and is lifted onto the stretcher and they’re heading for the door. She isn’t shaking anymore but her eyes are closed and she looks almost white. The teacher pulls Santana back as they bring Brittany out and Santana pulls from her teacher’s grip to follow Brittany down the hallway. She takes her best friend’s hand and whimpers.
“Britt, wake up.”
Brittany doesn’t move and Santana is stopped by the teacher just as they get to the front doors of the school.
“No,” Santana insists, “no I have to go! I gotta go. She’ll be scared if I’m not there.”
“Sweetie, you can’t go. Her mom and dad are going to be there, okay?”
Santana whimpers and pulls away one last time to press a kiss to her best friend’s cheek before the blonde is taken out to the ambulance waiting on the street. Santana starts shaking when the teacher puts a hand on her shoulder and leads her not toward the classroom but the nurse’s office instead.
“Stay here and calm down, okay?”
Santana nods. When the nurse gets back to her office she offers Santana a cot to lie down but there is only one thing Santana wants.
“Can I call my mom?” Santana sniffles.
The nurse nods and Santana dials her phone number from memory.
“Mami…”
“Santana, what’s wrong mi’ja?”
“They took Britt to the hospital. I gotta go, Mami. She’s gonna be scared if she wakes up without me. Please, Mami, please. You gotta take me.”
“Santana, I can’t take you out…”
“I’ll go by myself.”
“You can’t leave school.”
Santana growls. “I will.”
On the other line, her Mami sighs. “I’ll be there in a little while. Where are you?”
“In the nurse’s office.”
“Let me talk to her.”
Santana hands the phone over and hardly listens until the phone call ends and the nurse gives her a note to give to the teacher while she gathers up hers and Brittany’s things. Santana practically runs through the hallways and shoves the note at the teacher when she gets into the classroom. She ignores the whispers of the other students as she pulls hers and Brittany’s backpacks from their shared cubby and starts stuffing everything she can into them. She waits in the nurse’s office for a while longer before her Mami shows up and Santana leaps into the older woman’s arms and promptly bursts into tears.
They stop by the office to sign Santana out and then head to the car. The drive to the hospital is the longest drive Santana’s ever been on. In reality it’s only a few minutes, of course, but to an impatient and petrified eight-year-old, it’s forever. When they finally get there they stop at the information desk and find out that Brittany is still in the emergency room and so they make their way through the maze of hallways until they find the front desk.
“She can’t go back there,” the woman behind the desk growls. “Non-family visitors have to be thirteen.”
Santana whines. “I promise I’ll be good. Quiet as a mouse, I promise!”
“Hospital rules.”
“Pretty please…she’s my best friend.” Santana’s eyes start to well again and she whines. The woman looks around at the empty waiting room and presses a button.
“If anyone asks,” the woman says, “you’re family. And you better be good. Room twelve.”
Santana nods furiously and practically drags her Mami through the hallways and they search until they see Brittany’s dad step out of one of the rooms and smiles a little at Santana.
“I thought we’d see you pretty soon,” he says. “She’s just now waking up, you can go on in if you want.”
Santana nods and quietly steps inside. Brittany is looking around the room and when her eyes fall on Santana she smiles. Santana quickly moves to the side of the bed and furrows her eyebrow at the tube sticking out of her best friend’s arm. She avoids it to hold onto Brittany’s hand and tries to keep the tears from spilling over.
“Hey,” is all Santana can think of to say. “You scared me.”
Brittany shrugs. “It was like bein’ asleep.”
“B-but you were shaking. It was scary.”
“I don’t remember that part.”
Santana, unable to hold her tongue, looks up at Brittany’s mother across the bed. The woman looks like Santana feels when they learn about boring things in school.
“I told you something was wrong.”
The blonde woman’s head snaps up and she glares.
“How come you didn’t believe me?” Santana growls. “I told you she was sick.”
Santana shuts up when her Mami walks in the room and not another word about it is said. Once Santana is satisfied that her best friend is alright she agrees to go with her Mami to pick her older brother up from the middle school and makes Brittany promise to call her later.
Brittany has to stay in the hospital overnight and Santana’s Mami, after having talked to Brittany’s dad, explains that Brittany had to have an EEG. Santana only understands that it checks to see how Brittany’s brain works.
Santana learns words like “neurologist” and “epilepsy” and “convulsions”. She learns that Brittany’s spacing out are “petit mal seizures” and when she started shaking at school was a “grand mal seizure”.
It takes a few months for Brittany’s medications to get regulated. During that time she has three more “big seizures” Santana calls them (because the words the doctor said are hard to remember), and several more “small seizures”. Brittany starts leaving during the last hour of school to go to a room with other kids so she can review what she did that day because of what she might have missed if she spaced out. Santana tries to get the teacher to let her go, too, but the teacher says Santana needs to stay where she is. Brittany likes it, though, and her grades start going up.
Things are great for a long, long time. Brittany still spaces out sometimes but it’s usually because she forgot to take her medicine at lunch. Santana learns very quickly to make sure Brittany goes to the nurse before lunch or during the summer she sets an alarm on her watch when they’re together. They join the Cheerios and Brittany does really, really well. The doctors worry about slight brain damage that may have occurred when she had the grand mal seizures but Santana knows how to take care of her best friend.
It’s been eight years since that first seizure. Everything is going fine until one day, during glee club, Brittany stops dancing. Mr. Schuester stops practice to see if she’s okay but Brittany just stands there with a blank look on her face.
“Shit,” Santana hisses under her breath. She grabs a chair and sits Brittany down when the blonde snaps back.
“Hey B, lost you there for a sec. You take your meds at lunch today?”
Brittany shrugs. Santana goes through the girl’s bag and finds the card that she makes every week for Brittany to have the nurse check off. The box for that day is empty.
“Babe, you gotta take your meds.”
Brittany nods and Santana pats her head. They resume going over choreography and it happens again. Santana has never seen it happen that quickly before.
“What the hell?” Puck growls.
“Shut it, Puck,” Santana spits back. She gets Brittany back to the chair and watches the clock.
“Tell her to buck up, God, even Finn can do this.”
“I said shut the hell up! She’s having a goddamn seizure, you asshole!” Santana looks back at the clock and it’s going on thirty seconds. “Come on, B,” she mumbles. “Come on babe.”
Just as Santana starts fumbling for her phone to call Brittany’s parents to find out what to do, Brittany nudges her.
“Whatcha doin, San? We should practice.”
Santana lets out a relieved sigh and hugs the blonde. “You scared me. I think I’m gonna take you home, alright?”
Brittany shrugs. “Okay.”
Santana keeps close tabs on Brittany’s medications over the next week. The only problem? Brittany is taking them on time, every day, and she’s still seriously spacing out. Santana takes her to the doctor since Brittany’s dad is out of town and her mother is…Santana still hasn’t forgiven the woman for not listening to her when they were eight and the woman still hates Santana for practically accusing her of being a bad mother. Santana still believes she’s right.
The neurologist says Brittany needs to change medications. Santana rolls her eyes and almost lets a “duh” slip but instead she grips Brittany’s hand and nods.
The new drugs don’t work. Period. They wait the typical three week period but in that three weeks, Brittany spaces out almost four times a day and has two grand mal seizures, one of which was in the middle of the night while at Santana’s house.
They try new medications. More medications, more seizures. It goes on for six months and Santana loses count on how many times she’s gotten the phone call that Brittany has had another seizure. Brittany is getting frustrated and angry because she can’t go with the Cheerios or glee club to competitions. The doctors are scanning her brain every which way; there’s no swelling, no shifting, no excess fluid. Santana finally loses it after Brittany ends up with stitches on the side of her head from having a seizure in the kitchen that rendered her mostly unconscious for damn near a whole weekend. She yells at the neurologist and tells him to get his head out of his ass and fix her best friend.
They finally find a new combination that almost works. It’s the best they can do. Brittany finishes high school and Santana watches with her as all of their friends leave for college. Santana has opted to stay behind with her best friend slash girlfriend because the doctors are now talking about surgery because, once again, the medications are starting to not work.
Santana does as much research as she quite possibly can and what the doctor is talking about is literally splitting Brittany’s brain in half. There is a probability that she’ll still have to be on medication for the rest of her life but they’re running out of options. Their last ditch effort before the surgery is a brand-new drug trial. They wait two weeks, and then three, and Santana cries onto her Mami’s shoulder when Brittany’s seizures don’t get any better. The blonde’s surgery is scheduled for August in Cincinnati.
Santana sighs as she moves everything from her savings account into a checking account so she can pay for a hotel, food, and whatever else she needs during the stay in Cincinnati. College will have to wait. She sits in front of Brittany who is between her parents in the waiting room while she waits to be called back. Brittany is wearing a red hat Santana bought for her because they went the day before to Great Clips to have Brittany’s head shaved, as was suggested by one of the nurses since they’d do it at the hospital anyway and the razors weren’t known for being the greatest.
“You look beautiful,” Santana had whispered the night before as she held Brittany close to her. “You’re going to be just fine.”
Brittany’s name is called and Santana, crowd be damned, kisses her girlfriend with as much passion as she can.
“I love you, B.”
“I love you, too.”
Santana paces the waiting room in between reading and re-reading all of the information she had brought with her about the surgery. She locks eyes with Brittany’s mother a few times, the woman looks almost bored and Santana really just wants to smack her. How the hell can this woman look so damn stoic when all Santana wants to do is break down in tears?
“Do you even care about her?” Santana finally hisses. “Why are you here?”
Brittany’s mother sighs. “When Brittany was five there was a car accident,” she said.
Santana nodded. She knew about that. No one was hurt, miraculously, Brittany and her mother had escaped with only scratches.
“I pulled Brittany out of the car and do you know what she told me, Santana? She told me I was the bravest mommy in the whole world and she always wanted me to be brave like that. I love my daughters more than anything and I would do anything for them and that includes being brave all the time.”
“Why didn’t you listen to me? When we were eight, why didn’t you believe me?”
“Because,” the woman says, “because I knew if something was wrong with my baby then I wouldn’t be able to handle it. We talked to her doctors about it and they thought she would grow out of it. I’ve always cared about her, Santana, and I know you do, too. It’s why I trust you with her. It’s why I’ve put up with your shit for so long.”
Santana sighs and takes the space next to Brittany’s mother. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “I just…I really love her.”
“I know you do, sweetie. And she loves you.”
They wait for hours before the nurse comes out and directs them to a small room to wait for the doctor. Santana keeps pacing until Brittany’s mother pulls her down to the couch. When the doctor comes in he looks exhausted but when he sits down he’s smiling a little.
“Everything went as best it could,” he says. “I’ve never had one of these go as smooth.”
Santana feels like a giant weight has been lifted from her and she buries her face in her hands and cries. Brittany’s parents each wrap an arm around her. The doctor tells them how long Brittany’s recovery will be, what to expect in the next few days, and all of the other things Santana already knows from her extensive research. She sends a text to everyone that knew about the surgery when she regains her composure and before she heads up to the Neuro-ICU to meet Brittany’s parents who are going up with her from recovery.
The first glance at Brittany is a little gut-wrenching. Her entire head is wrapped in bandages and she looks a little pale but when those baby blue eyes open and Brittany grins just like she did the first time Santana ever saw her in such a state, the Latina knows everything is going to be fine.
The road to recovery is long and tedious. Brittany gets frustrated when she can’t remember words and when her brain doesn’t connect things like it should. It takes a while to get her fine motor skills back but Santana keeps reminding her that it’s normal. She takes the medication that worked the best before the surgery and after three months and no sign of any seizures, Santana wants to cry. She instead empties out the rest of her savings she’s been living off of and heads to a jewelry store.
The rings aren’t the best but they’ll do. A year to the day after the surgery they hold a small commitment ceremony with their friends attending. That day was a day of new beginnings, they had decided. Santana starts college a few weeks later, Brittany starts working at a daycare, and thus starts their life together.
Santana and Brittany watch their daughter like hawks when young Eva turns eight. They watch her brother, Daniel, three years later. Neither child ever spaces out to the point that they can’t come back right away and both women are relieved. Brittany has to switch medications again a few years later and the doctor refers her to another trial.
It takes a few IV infusions but Santana will never forget the last time it happens. They’re sitting at the kitchen table with a checker board between them. Eva is spending the night with a friend and Daniel is tucked away in bed. Brittany stares at the board and Santana gets discouraged as the seconds tick away. Brittany snaps back and looks around for a few seconds.
“Your turn,” Santana says.
“I did it, didn’t I?” Brittany sighs.
Santana nods. “We just have to give it time.”
Months turn into years and Santana watches her kids grow up and watches Brittany carry on conversations and read and re-learn to ride a bike and do all of the things the blonde always wanted to do and Santana smiles and dusts off the checker board and grabs the box of checkers. She sets up with Brittany as red and herself as black and grins when Brittany never freezes and never spaces out. Losing is worth it.
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~3,700
Summary: When Brittany is diagnosed with epilepsy Santana knows it won't be easy but she also knows that she'll always be there.
Author's note: Slightly AU. Plausible, though.
The first time it happens Santana and Brittany are eight. They’re sitting on the floor in Brittany’s living room, one of them on either side of the coffee table, with a checkers board in between them. Brittany is red, Santana is black. So far it’s tied; they each have four of the other’s checkers. It’s Brittany’s turn. She’s been concentrating for forever, Santana thinks. Really, it’s only been about twenty seconds but Brittany hasn’t done anything but stare.
“Come on, Britt, make a move,” Santana whines.
Brittany doesn’t say anything.
“Britt? Come on!”
Brittany blinks a few times and looks around. “Is it my turn?” she asks.
Santana furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head. “Yeah, you been lookin’ at the board for like, ever.”
Brittany tilts her head. “Oh.” She looks back down at the board and makes her move and the game continues.
Three days later, Brittany’s mom asks Santana to help Brittany with her reading. Santana is more than happy to help; she knows Brittany has been struggling with reading lately and she’ll do anything to help her friend. She’s sitting with Brittany on the couch in the living room and the blonde is making her way through James and the Giant Peach. She’s doing just fine until she stops abruptly.
“Britt? Come on, you know this word,” Santana encourages her friend. “Britt?”
Brittany is staring at the page blankly. She doesn’t even look like she’s thinking. Santana waves a hand in front of her friend’s face with no response. It’s then that she starts to worry.
“Britt, this isn’t funny. Stop messing around.”
Brittany blinks a few times and her eyes dart across the page and she starts reading again like nothing ever happened. The only problem is she starts reading three paragraphs before where she left off.
“You already read this part,” Santana says quietly.
“No I didn’t.”
“Yeah, B, you did.”
“I don’t remember reading it.”
“You did.”
When Brittany goes upstairs to look for her colored pencils, Santana goes into the kitchen where Brittany’s mom is shuffling around getting a snack ready for the girls.
“Something’s wrong with Brittany,” Santana says.
The older blonde woman turns around and furrows her eyebrows. “Is she sick?”
“I don’t know.” Santana shrugs. “She was readin’ and then stopped for like…a long time…and then she started readin’ again but it was way before where she stopped.”
Brittany’s mother just shakes her head. “She spaces out sometimes, sweetie, she’s alright.”
“I don’t think she is,” Santana retaliates. “She won’t listen to me when I talk to her. Something’s wrong.”
“Don’t you worry,” the older woman says with a smile. “Thank you for helping her with her reading, Santana.”
Santana sighs and sulks back to the living room.
It keeps happening. It starts happening more often, Santana notices. By Christmas break it’s up to twice, sometimes three times a day. Santana constantly begs Brittany’s parents to take her to a doctor but they only smile and tell her that Brittany is fine. Santana growls every time.
When they return to school from Christmas break Brittany keeps spacing out. Her teachers are reprimanding her for it and keeping her inside at recess for not paying attention. Santana always stays behind to accompany her friend.
During math one day, Brittany spaces out. Santana chews her lower lip nervously and waits for the blonde to come to so Santana can share her multiplication notes. The teacher calls on Santana to answer a problem and the Latina does, not noticing that Brittany had snapped back.
“San,” Brittany whispers when Santana finishes answering the teacher. “San, I don’t get it.”
“It’s okay, Britt. I’ll help-“
“Santana, Brittany,” the teacher says sternly, “I’ve warned you two already. No more talking in class.”
“I was helping-“
“If Brittany needs help she can stay inside during recess,” the teacher snaps.
There’s a murmured giggle in the class and Santana hears Noah Puckerman mutter “retard”. Santana clenches her fists and growls. “Shut up, Noah! I’ll beat you up!”
The boy laughs and Santana stands to leap across the table when a small voice stops her.
“San, I feel funny.”
Santana turns just in time to see Brittany fall out of her chair…and start shaking violently. Santana drops to her knees and the teacher tells her aide to get all of the kids out of the classroom and she calls the nurse.
“What’s wrong with her?!” Santana shrieks. “Fix it!”
“Santana, sweetie, you need to go with the rest of the class.”
“No! You fix her!”
The nurse comes rushing in and whispers to the teacher and Santana is panicking as she watches the nurse turn Brittany on her side. Santana reaches out and grips onto Brittany’s hand and tries to stay strong as she doesn’t get any response.
“Britt…Britt, come on. Please wake up!”
“Santana,” the teacher says softly, “Santana, we need to go, okay?”
“No!”
Santana hears the teacher sigh and then she’s literally dragged out of the classroom kicking and screaming just as she sees a man and a woman in dark blue jumpsuits with a stretcher going into the classroom. Santana stays glued to the door, peering through the window. She can’t see anything, the people are in the way, but after a while one of them moves and Brittany is strapped to a bright orange board and is lifted onto the stretcher and they’re heading for the door. She isn’t shaking anymore but her eyes are closed and she looks almost white. The teacher pulls Santana back as they bring Brittany out and Santana pulls from her teacher’s grip to follow Brittany down the hallway. She takes her best friend’s hand and whimpers.
“Britt, wake up.”
Brittany doesn’t move and Santana is stopped by the teacher just as they get to the front doors of the school.
“No,” Santana insists, “no I have to go! I gotta go. She’ll be scared if I’m not there.”
“Sweetie, you can’t go. Her mom and dad are going to be there, okay?”
Santana whimpers and pulls away one last time to press a kiss to her best friend’s cheek before the blonde is taken out to the ambulance waiting on the street. Santana starts shaking when the teacher puts a hand on her shoulder and leads her not toward the classroom but the nurse’s office instead.
“Stay here and calm down, okay?”
Santana nods. When the nurse gets back to her office she offers Santana a cot to lie down but there is only one thing Santana wants.
“Can I call my mom?” Santana sniffles.
The nurse nods and Santana dials her phone number from memory.
“Mami…”
“Santana, what’s wrong mi’ja?”
“They took Britt to the hospital. I gotta go, Mami. She’s gonna be scared if she wakes up without me. Please, Mami, please. You gotta take me.”
“Santana, I can’t take you out…”
“I’ll go by myself.”
“You can’t leave school.”
Santana growls. “I will.”
On the other line, her Mami sighs. “I’ll be there in a little while. Where are you?”
“In the nurse’s office.”
“Let me talk to her.”
Santana hands the phone over and hardly listens until the phone call ends and the nurse gives her a note to give to the teacher while she gathers up hers and Brittany’s things. Santana practically runs through the hallways and shoves the note at the teacher when she gets into the classroom. She ignores the whispers of the other students as she pulls hers and Brittany’s backpacks from their shared cubby and starts stuffing everything she can into them. She waits in the nurse’s office for a while longer before her Mami shows up and Santana leaps into the older woman’s arms and promptly bursts into tears.
They stop by the office to sign Santana out and then head to the car. The drive to the hospital is the longest drive Santana’s ever been on. In reality it’s only a few minutes, of course, but to an impatient and petrified eight-year-old, it’s forever. When they finally get there they stop at the information desk and find out that Brittany is still in the emergency room and so they make their way through the maze of hallways until they find the front desk.
“She can’t go back there,” the woman behind the desk growls. “Non-family visitors have to be thirteen.”
Santana whines. “I promise I’ll be good. Quiet as a mouse, I promise!”
“Hospital rules.”
“Pretty please…she’s my best friend.” Santana’s eyes start to well again and she whines. The woman looks around at the empty waiting room and presses a button.
“If anyone asks,” the woman says, “you’re family. And you better be good. Room twelve.”
Santana nods furiously and practically drags her Mami through the hallways and they search until they see Brittany’s dad step out of one of the rooms and smiles a little at Santana.
“I thought we’d see you pretty soon,” he says. “She’s just now waking up, you can go on in if you want.”
Santana nods and quietly steps inside. Brittany is looking around the room and when her eyes fall on Santana she smiles. Santana quickly moves to the side of the bed and furrows her eyebrow at the tube sticking out of her best friend’s arm. She avoids it to hold onto Brittany’s hand and tries to keep the tears from spilling over.
“Hey,” is all Santana can think of to say. “You scared me.”
Brittany shrugs. “It was like bein’ asleep.”
“B-but you were shaking. It was scary.”
“I don’t remember that part.”
Santana, unable to hold her tongue, looks up at Brittany’s mother across the bed. The woman looks like Santana feels when they learn about boring things in school.
“I told you something was wrong.”
The blonde woman’s head snaps up and she glares.
“How come you didn’t believe me?” Santana growls. “I told you she was sick.”
Santana shuts up when her Mami walks in the room and not another word about it is said. Once Santana is satisfied that her best friend is alright she agrees to go with her Mami to pick her older brother up from the middle school and makes Brittany promise to call her later.
Brittany has to stay in the hospital overnight and Santana’s Mami, after having talked to Brittany’s dad, explains that Brittany had to have an EEG. Santana only understands that it checks to see how Brittany’s brain works.
Santana learns words like “neurologist” and “epilepsy” and “convulsions”. She learns that Brittany’s spacing out are “petit mal seizures” and when she started shaking at school was a “grand mal seizure”.
It takes a few months for Brittany’s medications to get regulated. During that time she has three more “big seizures” Santana calls them (because the words the doctor said are hard to remember), and several more “small seizures”. Brittany starts leaving during the last hour of school to go to a room with other kids so she can review what she did that day because of what she might have missed if she spaced out. Santana tries to get the teacher to let her go, too, but the teacher says Santana needs to stay where she is. Brittany likes it, though, and her grades start going up.
Things are great for a long, long time. Brittany still spaces out sometimes but it’s usually because she forgot to take her medicine at lunch. Santana learns very quickly to make sure Brittany goes to the nurse before lunch or during the summer she sets an alarm on her watch when they’re together. They join the Cheerios and Brittany does really, really well. The doctors worry about slight brain damage that may have occurred when she had the grand mal seizures but Santana knows how to take care of her best friend.
It’s been eight years since that first seizure. Everything is going fine until one day, during glee club, Brittany stops dancing. Mr. Schuester stops practice to see if she’s okay but Brittany just stands there with a blank look on her face.
“Shit,” Santana hisses under her breath. She grabs a chair and sits Brittany down when the blonde snaps back.
“Hey B, lost you there for a sec. You take your meds at lunch today?”
Brittany shrugs. Santana goes through the girl’s bag and finds the card that she makes every week for Brittany to have the nurse check off. The box for that day is empty.
“Babe, you gotta take your meds.”
Brittany nods and Santana pats her head. They resume going over choreography and it happens again. Santana has never seen it happen that quickly before.
“What the hell?” Puck growls.
“Shut it, Puck,” Santana spits back. She gets Brittany back to the chair and watches the clock.
“Tell her to buck up, God, even Finn can do this.”
“I said shut the hell up! She’s having a goddamn seizure, you asshole!” Santana looks back at the clock and it’s going on thirty seconds. “Come on, B,” she mumbles. “Come on babe.”
Just as Santana starts fumbling for her phone to call Brittany’s parents to find out what to do, Brittany nudges her.
“Whatcha doin, San? We should practice.”
Santana lets out a relieved sigh and hugs the blonde. “You scared me. I think I’m gonna take you home, alright?”
Brittany shrugs. “Okay.”
Santana keeps close tabs on Brittany’s medications over the next week. The only problem? Brittany is taking them on time, every day, and she’s still seriously spacing out. Santana takes her to the doctor since Brittany’s dad is out of town and her mother is…Santana still hasn’t forgiven the woman for not listening to her when they were eight and the woman still hates Santana for practically accusing her of being a bad mother. Santana still believes she’s right.
The neurologist says Brittany needs to change medications. Santana rolls her eyes and almost lets a “duh” slip but instead she grips Brittany’s hand and nods.
The new drugs don’t work. Period. They wait the typical three week period but in that three weeks, Brittany spaces out almost four times a day and has two grand mal seizures, one of which was in the middle of the night while at Santana’s house.
They try new medications. More medications, more seizures. It goes on for six months and Santana loses count on how many times she’s gotten the phone call that Brittany has had another seizure. Brittany is getting frustrated and angry because she can’t go with the Cheerios or glee club to competitions. The doctors are scanning her brain every which way; there’s no swelling, no shifting, no excess fluid. Santana finally loses it after Brittany ends up with stitches on the side of her head from having a seizure in the kitchen that rendered her mostly unconscious for damn near a whole weekend. She yells at the neurologist and tells him to get his head out of his ass and fix her best friend.
They finally find a new combination that almost works. It’s the best they can do. Brittany finishes high school and Santana watches with her as all of their friends leave for college. Santana has opted to stay behind with her best friend slash girlfriend because the doctors are now talking about surgery because, once again, the medications are starting to not work.
Santana does as much research as she quite possibly can and what the doctor is talking about is literally splitting Brittany’s brain in half. There is a probability that she’ll still have to be on medication for the rest of her life but they’re running out of options. Their last ditch effort before the surgery is a brand-new drug trial. They wait two weeks, and then three, and Santana cries onto her Mami’s shoulder when Brittany’s seizures don’t get any better. The blonde’s surgery is scheduled for August in Cincinnati.
Santana sighs as she moves everything from her savings account into a checking account so she can pay for a hotel, food, and whatever else she needs during the stay in Cincinnati. College will have to wait. She sits in front of Brittany who is between her parents in the waiting room while she waits to be called back. Brittany is wearing a red hat Santana bought for her because they went the day before to Great Clips to have Brittany’s head shaved, as was suggested by one of the nurses since they’d do it at the hospital anyway and the razors weren’t known for being the greatest.
“You look beautiful,” Santana had whispered the night before as she held Brittany close to her. “You’re going to be just fine.”
Brittany’s name is called and Santana, crowd be damned, kisses her girlfriend with as much passion as she can.
“I love you, B.”
“I love you, too.”
Santana paces the waiting room in between reading and re-reading all of the information she had brought with her about the surgery. She locks eyes with Brittany’s mother a few times, the woman looks almost bored and Santana really just wants to smack her. How the hell can this woman look so damn stoic when all Santana wants to do is break down in tears?
“Do you even care about her?” Santana finally hisses. “Why are you here?”
Brittany’s mother sighs. “When Brittany was five there was a car accident,” she said.
Santana nodded. She knew about that. No one was hurt, miraculously, Brittany and her mother had escaped with only scratches.
“I pulled Brittany out of the car and do you know what she told me, Santana? She told me I was the bravest mommy in the whole world and she always wanted me to be brave like that. I love my daughters more than anything and I would do anything for them and that includes being brave all the time.”
“Why didn’t you listen to me? When we were eight, why didn’t you believe me?”
“Because,” the woman says, “because I knew if something was wrong with my baby then I wouldn’t be able to handle it. We talked to her doctors about it and they thought she would grow out of it. I’ve always cared about her, Santana, and I know you do, too. It’s why I trust you with her. It’s why I’ve put up with your shit for so long.”
Santana sighs and takes the space next to Brittany’s mother. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “I just…I really love her.”
“I know you do, sweetie. And she loves you.”
They wait for hours before the nurse comes out and directs them to a small room to wait for the doctor. Santana keeps pacing until Brittany’s mother pulls her down to the couch. When the doctor comes in he looks exhausted but when he sits down he’s smiling a little.
“Everything went as best it could,” he says. “I’ve never had one of these go as smooth.”
Santana feels like a giant weight has been lifted from her and she buries her face in her hands and cries. Brittany’s parents each wrap an arm around her. The doctor tells them how long Brittany’s recovery will be, what to expect in the next few days, and all of the other things Santana already knows from her extensive research. She sends a text to everyone that knew about the surgery when she regains her composure and before she heads up to the Neuro-ICU to meet Brittany’s parents who are going up with her from recovery.
The first glance at Brittany is a little gut-wrenching. Her entire head is wrapped in bandages and she looks a little pale but when those baby blue eyes open and Brittany grins just like she did the first time Santana ever saw her in such a state, the Latina knows everything is going to be fine.
The road to recovery is long and tedious. Brittany gets frustrated when she can’t remember words and when her brain doesn’t connect things like it should. It takes a while to get her fine motor skills back but Santana keeps reminding her that it’s normal. She takes the medication that worked the best before the surgery and after three months and no sign of any seizures, Santana wants to cry. She instead empties out the rest of her savings she’s been living off of and heads to a jewelry store.
The rings aren’t the best but they’ll do. A year to the day after the surgery they hold a small commitment ceremony with their friends attending. That day was a day of new beginnings, they had decided. Santana starts college a few weeks later, Brittany starts working at a daycare, and thus starts their life together.
Santana and Brittany watch their daughter like hawks when young Eva turns eight. They watch her brother, Daniel, three years later. Neither child ever spaces out to the point that they can’t come back right away and both women are relieved. Brittany has to switch medications again a few years later and the doctor refers her to another trial.
It takes a few IV infusions but Santana will never forget the last time it happens. They’re sitting at the kitchen table with a checker board between them. Eva is spending the night with a friend and Daniel is tucked away in bed. Brittany stares at the board and Santana gets discouraged as the seconds tick away. Brittany snaps back and looks around for a few seconds.
“Your turn,” Santana says.
“I did it, didn’t I?” Brittany sighs.
Santana nods. “We just have to give it time.”
Months turn into years and Santana watches her kids grow up and watches Brittany carry on conversations and read and re-learn to ride a bike and do all of the things the blonde always wanted to do and Santana smiles and dusts off the checker board and grabs the box of checkers. She sets up with Brittany as red and herself as black and grins when Brittany never freezes and never spaces out. Losing is worth it.