Chapter One: A Meeting

If you were to ask anybody about your fitness, they would say that you're in pretty good shape.

Well, you go jogging for a few miles every morning, and spend about two hours in the gym every evening after work.

But, what you aren't used to is walking up very steep slopes.

Which is why you were so reluctant when your friend, Quinn, dragged you up out of bed at ten in the morning for a little bit of mountain hiking.

You feel burning in your chest, almost like your whole respiratory system is up in flames, as you trek up the mountain. You pause in your actions to take a long, deep breath, looking up momentarily to catch Quinn's eyes.

"Come on, Santana," she encourages, slowly making her way down the hill and stretching her hand out to you, and you take it gratefully. "Only a little bit more walking to go."

You gasp a little. "Quinn, when you told me you were taking me on a day out, I thought you meant we were doing something fun, not fucking hiking."

Quinn chuckles a bit, before pulling you up to her level rather roughly.

You both continue to walk up the mountain. The sky is clear, and it's one of those days where you are able to see the moon during the day, all full and light coloured, almost like it is trying to hide.

By the time you reach the top of the mountain, you're positively dying; gulping down your bottled water as if you haven't drank anything in hours.

Quinn stands there with her hands on her hips, smiling widely, taking in the beautiful scenery around you. "That wasn't so bad, was it Santana?"

You just glare at her as you finish off the bottle, shaking it above your mouth so you get every last drop of it. "Next time you're trying to come up with an activity for us to do, Fabray, maybe try and come up with something that we'd both like."

Quinn just ignores your comment and looks out to the city below you. "Ready to start going back down?"

"God," you groan, already stumbling your way past Quinn, trying your best to get out of there quickly. "We have to go through this hell again."

"Santana, why don't you just think of this as an adventure?"

You let out a small, bitter laugh and shake your head slowly. "Next time you bring me up here for some excursion up an unbearably high mountain, you're carrying me the whole way."

Quinn scoffs a little, following you as you very carefully make your way down. "Deal."

"There are so many rocks and stuff here," you say wearily, taking a look to your left and right. "If you fell down this hill, you could seriously hurt yourself. You want that on your conscience, Fabray? Killing your friend?"

You really wish you didn't say that, because just as you did, you lose your footing, misjudging where a step was, and before you know it you're tumbling down the mountain, whacking your limbs and head repeatedly off the concrete and grass, yelping each time, as the pain is almost too much. You hear Quinn shout your name as you fall.

As you bump down the mountain, all these colours of green, blue and brown are swirling together in your vision as you spin on your side, making you feel positively dizzy and light headed.

You definitely think you're going to throw up.

You cry out loudly as your left foot hits against a giant rock, and you almost feel like you're going to pass out.

You land ungraciously on your back a few seconds later, unbearable pain erupting from your left leg. "Shit," you hiss, your eyes watering with the soreness. "I wish I wasn't so good at foreshadowing."

"Santana," you hear, and you crane your neck to look up and see Quinn darting down the mountain after you, skidding down the rocks and leaping down to land beside your head. She crouches down beside you as you wince in pain, trying not to cry. "Oh my god."

Your leg is giving you so much grief that you give into your emotions, hot tears running all the way down your face. Quinn has never seen you cry before, but you don't really have an option at this stage. Nor do you care. "Jesus, Quinn, my leg."

You watch as her eyes flick down towards your leg, and she gasps dramatically, covering her agape mouth with her hand. "Santana, your foot is twisted backwards, oh my god." Quinn pales straight away after she says that.

You shuffle a bit so you can lean up and put your weight on your right elbow, and you glance down your body to see that your foot is indeed not in the position it should be. "Please," you sob, wincing and dragging a hand down your face to wipe it dry. "Call an ambulance. Please." You hesitate for the moment. "Do you remember the recovery position?"

You did a first aid course with Quinn about two years ago, and the idea just suddenly pops into your head.

Quinn nods frantically, as if a light bulb just went off in her head. She removes her hoodie, before folding it up, putting it under your head. Then she moves your body and legs so you're lying on your side, your leg in a comfortable place.

You lie there, waiting for the ambulance, the excruciating, throbbing pain bothering the hell out of you. You've never broken a bone before, and now you're there on your back, with a backwards foot. It feels like it's on fire, the pain slowly creeping up your leg and taking over your whole body.

You held off asking for some of Quinn's painkillers she brought because you're sure the ambulance men are going to give you some heavy ones once they arrive, but you're seriously on the border of caving and allowing yourself to be doped up for the whole day.

You don't even care at this point; you just want the pain to stop.

When the ambulance finally gets there, you watch with blurry vision as the paramedics jog towards you with a stretcher. They roll you onto it gently, and you try not to grimace as they touch you and ask where the pain is. You show them your foot, and they make the immediate judgement that it's definitely broken. They then ask you if you're on any medication, and you tell them you're not.

When they bring you into the ambulance and lie you down on the bed, they start giving you morphine straight away. You begin to feel a little funny on the journey to the hospital, but at least the pain is gone a little bit.

The last thing you remember is hearing Quinn trying to call your parents as she grasps your hand. Then, you black out.

You wake up around an hour later. You're a little confused, because the bed you're in definitely doesn't feel like your bed, and the sounds around you don't sound like you're at home.

There's also a very sterile smell around you, like a mixture of hand sanitizer, cleaning products and latex gloves.

You don't feel as light headed, so you reckon that they must have only given you a small dose of morphine.

Your eyes fly open, and the first thing you see is a patterned curtain.

You're in a hospital.

Suddenly, the memories of the mountain and the falling are coming back to you in a flash, flooding back into your memory.

You quickly try to sit up so you can see your foot, which is being suspended in mid-air by a sling attached to the ceiling. You have to admit, it's pretty comfortable that way.

"Santana." You turn to the left and see Quinn's concerned and tired eyes looking back at you, and you just stare at her blankly. "How are you feeling?"

You lie back down, letting your head get absorbed by the pillow, which is way too fluffy and soft on the inside for your liking. "Pretty bad."

"God," Quinn sighs, leaning back far in her chair and putting her hands over her face. "I feel so guilty."

You frown a bit. "Why?"

"If I never brought you out today and made you hike with me, this never would have happened to you. I feel like a bitch."

This makes your face soften a little bit. "Quinn, you couldn't have known this was going to happen, okay? Relax, I'm not blaming you at all."

She laughs nervously. "You literally blamed me just before it even happened."

"Well, I was joking then." You wave her off for being stupid. "If I knew it was going to happen, I wouldn't have said anything."

Quinn opens her mouth to say something, but her words die on the tip of her tongue when the curtain is flung open, and tall, cheery looking doctor steps up to the end of your bed, holding a clipboard. "Good afternoon," he greets, smiling at both you and Quinn, and pulling the curtain back across. "I'm Dr Sebastian Smythe. And you are…" He looks down to the chart in his hands. "Santana Lopez?"

You nod a little. "That's me."

"Right," Dr Smythe says, coming around to the left side of the bed, beside Quinn. "I'm guessing this is why you're here." He points to your foot and chuckles. "How did this happen, just so I can imagine what must be wrong with it?"

"Quinn and I were hiking and I slipped and fell down the mountain. I must have whacked my leg hard on something because this happened." You motion to your foot with your hands.

Dr Smythe leans forward and inspects it carefully. "Well, the rotation of it can't be a good sign. It looks incredibly broken to me. You're still going to have to get an x-ray, though. I'll send a nurse up to wheel you down to the x-ray room in about twenty minutes, if that's okay?"

You nod, giving him a thin lipped smile. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Will she need an operation?" Quinn questions, looking rather anxious. She's fiddling with the ends of her hair, twirling it around her fingers.

Dr Smythe brings his mouth to one side, and looks like he's thinking. "We would only ever do that if we had to reset the bone. We try to perform surgery only when it's absolutely necessary. We won't be able to tell if Santana needs it until we see the x-rays." He looks back at you, silently telling you that he's done here for the moment.

"Thank you, Doctor," you smile, giving him a little wave as he grins back and pulls the curtains across behind him

Quinn leans over to you, a curious smile on her face as her eyes are still on the curtain. "He's cute."

"Don't even try," you tell her, shaking your head firmly. "He has to be gayer than a Barbra Streisand number."

"Are you sure?" she asks, glancing back towards the curtain. "He didn't come across that way to me."

Your eyes widen playfully. "Oh, I'm sorry. Who's the one with impeccable gaydar here?"

"You," Quinn sighs. She stands up, and hooks her thumb behind her. "I'm going to go to the cafeteria downstairs and get some coffee and a sandwich. Do you want anything?"

"A coffee and any sort of junk food would be great."

Quinn gives you one last sympathetic smile, before she opens the curtains fully and leaves, forgetting to close them behind her.

You contemplate yelling after her to shut them, but even you reason that it would be inappropriate to do that in a hospital.

You sigh and close your eyes, before deciding to use this time to get familiar with the room you're in. There are three beds in front of you, and two to either side of you, as you're in the middle of your row.

There's a teenage girl with red hair in the bed opposite you, and the other two beds in front of you are closed. You realise that only you, the girl in front of you, and the girl in the bed beside you don't have the curtains pulled.

You crane your neck to your right to get a good look at the girl in the bed beside you. She's asleep and breathing softly. You watch as her chest rises and falls under the blanket. Her long, blonde hair is spread out behind her on her pillow, almost as if she spent the day arranging it like that. On the table beside her, is a half full bottle of carbonated water, a glass, a packet of chocolate bars and a magazine.

You see Quinn enter the room and you quickly snap your head to the front, averting your gaze.

"I got you coffee and a donut," she tells you, slumping back into her seat by your side, and places the food and drinks on the table. "If you don't want it, I'll have it."

You reach over to take your donut, smiling at Quinn, before a nurse walks up to your bed, pushing a wheelchair in front of her and smiling softly. "Ms Lopez, you have an x-ray appointment for now."

After some struggling to get out of the sling and into the wheelchair, you're being wheeled out of your room and down the hall, with Quinn following you, sipping her coffee as she walks.

Once you get to the x-ray room, the nurse checks over your chart. "I have to ask this," she says, not looking up from the clipboard. "But are you pregnant?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head and chuckling lightly.

The nurse takes her eyes off of your chart to look up at Quinn, shaking her head. "You can't eat or drink in here. Sorry."

Quinn nods, and steps outside.

You put on the vest you were given to wear during the x-ray, and you begin to feel nervous. You've actually never had an x-ray before, so you don't know what to expect.

The nurse seems to sense your anxiety and she touches your shoulder, and gives you a reassuring smile when you look up at her. "Don't worry. This will only take a few minutes."

Ten minutes later when it's done, you're being wheeled back to your room, with Quinn walking right beside you.

"When will I know the results of the x-ray?" you ask the nurse, as she's setting you back up in your bed.

The nurse shrugs a little. "I don't know, really. It might be a couple of hours before the doctor gets a chance to talk to you."

You exhale through your nose loudly and Quinn puts a caring hand on your forearm. "I'll stay with you until the doctor comes, okay?"

You give her a small, yet worried smile. You'd be lost without her.

An hour and a half later, Dr Smythe pulls your curtain back and walks up to the end of your bed, a beige coloured folder in his hand.

You were beginning to doze off, but the second you heard the curtain move you snapped yourself to attention. "Hi," you say, trying to sound awake.

"Hello," he greets, smiling at both you and Quinn in turn. "I have your x-rays here, if you'd like to see them." You nod, a little bit sceptical, and he pulls the photo out from the folder.

You squint as you look at the picture of your bone in front of you. You're not an expert, but it doesn't look good. There are three big cracks in about three places in your ankle and leg. "Ouch."

"Yeah, it's not great, I'm afraid." Dr Smythe gives you a small smile. "We're going to have to break the bone all over again to reset it. That means surgery."

You deflate a little bit, your shoulders slumping. "Oh," you breathe. "Do you know when?"

"The nearest slot I can find for you is on Monday, so you'll have to spend the weekend here with us, and then for at least three more days after the surgery. So, you'll be here for around a week."

You sigh. "Great."

Dr Smythe clamps his lips together, throwing his hands up a little. "There's nothing I can really do."

"No, it's okay," you reply. You know it's not his fault. You turn to look at Quinn. "Do my parents know?"

Quinn shrugs a bit, looking a little fed up. "I tried to call your mom but I just got her voicemail. She must be at work."

Of course she is. She's always working.

"My dad?" you ask.

Quinn just shakes her head. "Couldn't get him either. Probably the same problem."

You nod disappointedly and look up to Dr Smythe. "Thanks anyway, Doc."

He leaves and you and Quinn just look at each other and let out a long sigh. "This is perfect," you mutter, throwing your head back on your pillow.

Quinn stands up, grabbing her bag. "I better get going, anyway. I'd stay with you tonight, but I have to get up for work early tomorrow morning."

You raise your hand into a wave, nodding. "Thanks for everything today, Quinn. You didn't have to stay with me all day."

"I wanted to," Quinn smiles, touching your hand briefly. She pulls her hand away. "I'll be in to see you tomorrow after work, okay? I promise."

You grin back at her. "Don't let me get in the way of your important lawyer work."

Quinn rolls her eyes, pulling her bag strap further up her shoulder while laughing softly. "Goodnight, Santana," she says, leaving.

Once again, she leaves the curtains fully drawn back, the light from the outside irritating you immediately.

You sigh loudly and try to relax, but you have too much on your mind.

You must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing you know, your phone is buzzing on the table right beside you. You lean over groggily and answer the call. "Hello?" you groan.

"Santana," you hear your mother gasp. "I'm so sorry I missed Quinn's call, and when I heard her voicemail I got so stressed. Are you okay? What happened?"

You smile a little. Your mom may work a lot and doesn't have a lot of time for people, but she still obviously cares about you a lot. She can sometimes be rather overprotective, though. "I'm fine, Mom. I just fell and broke my foot."

"That doesn't sound fine," you mother says sternly. "How long will you be in hospital? Do you need an operation?"

"Yeah, I'm having surgery on Monday and I have to stay in for a few days after that so they can make sure I'm okay afterwards."

Your mother hums, sounding worried. "I never liked the idea of you having surgery. There's always a risk that you'll never wake up from the general anaesthetic."

"Mom," you sigh, laughing at how ridiculous she's being. "That only happens to, like, one in a million people. I'll be fine."

"It's more than one in a million, I'm sure."

You're beginning to get frustrated. "Mom, just relax."

"Your father is on a business trip, so he won't be here until Tuesday. But he knows you're in hospital and he wishes you well and says that he loves you. Plus, I'm actually here parking in the hospital right now bringing you pyjamas, a phone charger, your toothbrush and hairbrush."

You can't help but smile fondly. You're not surprised. She always tries so hard. "Okay, Mom. I'll let you park and I'll see you in a few minutes." You hang up and sigh again. You find that you've been sighing a lot today.

You collapse back down onto your pillow, breathing deeply and closing your eyes.

But, all too quickly you open them. Because you feel someone watching you.

You quickly look to the right and the first thing you see are two crystal blue eyes staring back at you. You're a little confused, before you realise that they belong to the girl in the bed next to you.

She's sitting cross legged on top of her covers and she's wearing a pair of pink, fluffy pyjamas. Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders, almost like it's flowing down from her head. She has tiny freckles dusted across her cheeks, which make her look younger than she probably is. Her hands are placed on her knees, and she's staring at you with such child-like wonder in her eyes that you almost feel like you're naked under her gaze.

You both sit there looking at each other and you find yourself a little bit breathless, but you don't know why. "Hi," you say, wearily.

The girl doesn't say anything at first, her expression not changing. She studies you for a moment, before deciding to speak. "Hi."

"What's your name?" you ask.

She's still looking at you in the same way as before. "Brittany."

You smile at her. She looks like a Brittany. "I'm Santana."

There's more silence, and she looks like she has no intention of doing anything else other than look at you, so you decide to speak again and try to find out more about her. "Why are you here?"

Brittany doesn't say anything for a few seconds, and you're about to give up when she opens her mouth to speak.

Just at that moment, you look at the door as your mother walks into the room, striding over to you and hugging you tightly. "Mija," she says, squeezing your shoulders.

You grin at her actions, but your smile falters when you remember what you were doing. Your eyes flick over to Brittany, who's still looking at you. But, her expression has changed.

Now, instead of curious, she looks weary and suspicious.

Your mom pulls away from you and the second she does, Brittany quickly looks away from you, breaking your strong eye contact. She lies down in her bed, and turns, so she's not facing you.

Your mother takes a seat beside you and starts rambling about how worried she is about you, and she starts listing all the stuff she's brought for you, but you're not really listening to her.

All you can think about is the intense staring contest you just had with the girl in the bed next to you, and how strange it made you feel.