How To Save A Life [The Fray]

author: summer_rain


The white overhead lights were harsh; the seat was cold and hard beneath her. Quinn stared out of a window to her right.

"Tell me about yourself."

"My name is Quinn Fabray and I am the daughter of Russell and Judy Fabray. I'm a senior this year. I go to William McKinley High School.

"Why are you here?"

"Everyone keeps telling me to see someone."

The man nodded indicating for Quinn to continue.

"I can't stop thinking about Santan-"

Quinn blinked and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Who?"

Quinn cleared her throat. "Santana Lopez."

The man scribbled a quick note into his diary.

"Tell me about Santana Lopez."

Quinn felt the tears welling up again.

"She was…Santana Lopez. We went to school together. We did cheerleading together. We were in Glee together. She was just so herself."

"Was she liked by her peers?"

Quinn shook her head.

"Santana would've been described by most as a bitch. She could be was harsh and manipulative."

"Oh?"

"Santana did whatever she wanted to do. She...she was liked by boys though. She was really beautiful and hot, and knew how to flaunt it."

"She was confident?"

"Yes."

"How long have you known her?"

"Santana and I have known each other since first grade. Noah Puckerman, a boy in our year, kept throwing sand at me. Santana noticed and just pushed him over. He wouldn't stop crying for the whole break. We became friends ever since."

Quinn blinked again. She remembered the warm summer breeze of that day. She remembered the look of fear on Puck's face as he fell. Quinn remembered the glare the Latina had given Puck.

"Were you two close? You sound like best friends."

"No." Quinn shook her head.

"We...we fought a lot."

The man looked surprised.

"We were rivals… and at best frenemies."

"Why?"

"We never tried."

"But you could've been friends."

"Yes."

Yes. Quinn thought. We could have been the best of friends. Everything others hated about Santana was the reason they would have fit together perfectly. Maybe they could've both made it.

"Did she have many friends?"

"She had Brittany. It was enough."

Quinn gritted her teeth.

Lie.

"Brittany?"

"Brittany was her girlfriend. They were best friends. They did everything together. Santana was sweet and caring towards Brittany."

"So Santana didn't have any friends other than Brittany?"

"No one she could trust."

"And Santana was gay?"

"Yes."

"Did she accept herself?"

"Yes, she was very accepting of herself. She was out and proud with Brittany. Brittany was very supportive."

Lie. If only Quinn had opened her eyes earlier, she was so blind. So blind.

"What happened?"

"Brittany and Santana broke up."

"And then?"

"Brittany had cheated. Brittany went on to date Artie. Santana was heartbroken."

"How do you feel about Brittany?"

Quinn swallowed. "I was angry at first, but it's her personality."

"How did this affect Santana?"

"Santana became... Quiet..."

"Did the others notice?"

"No."

"Tell me about when you last Santana."

"…No."

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head, as if the memories would vanish. They flooded her vision, each one of them flashed before her eyes, dancing behind her eyelids, mocking her.

"Make it stop…" Quinn registered the warm liquid streaming down her face.

"I think that will be enough for today."

/

Quinn closed her eyes, and succumbed. She let herself remember. It was the day after Santana had broken up with Brittany. Rachel looked overjoyed at Santana's newfound silence. Finn, Sam, Tina, Mercedes were chatting away and didn't even seem to notice. Brittany sat cuddled into Artie's side.

Memories came flooding back. Santana's puffy red eyes, the way Santana had begun to distance herself from everyone, how her snarky comments had become sparse and rare.

Everyone had begun praising Santana for her mature behaviour. Quinn herself hadn't thought too much about it. They weren't close.

She felt frozen.

Quinn had watched as Santana faded away and now she was only a ghost.

/

Blood. There was blood everywhere. The crimson blossomed outwards, drawing haunting yet beautiful patterns, staining the snow white of the bed sheet. The patterns were always the same.

Quinn stood there frozen, an observer to the scene unfolding before her. There was nothing she could do. She watched as her own body ran into the room and stumbled over to the lifeless body sprawled out in the middle of the bed. She watched as her own shaking hands checked for a pulse. She remembered the way the skin had felt-cold. The lifeless brown eyes of Santana Lopez gazed deep into Quinn's soul but Quinn couldn't turn away.

Quinn tried to force her body to leave the room. She had watched the scene of herself stumbled into Santana's room a hundred times, but it never changed. Santana was gone.

Quinn woke up in a cold sweat, breathing hard; a silent scream escaped her mouth.

/

"Tell me about Santana's parents."

"Santana's father is a Doctor, her mother a lawyer."

"Were they close to Santana?"

"No. They barely spoke. They were busy with their own lives."

"Did she have any siblings?"

"No, Santana didn't."

"What was her parents' reaction to Santana being gay?"

"They pretended she didn't exist."

"What about her extended family?"

"Her Abuela kicked her out."

"She stopped coming to school."

"Did anyone go to check on her?"

Quinn swallowed a lump in her throat. "They were all concerned about me."

"Why were they concerned about you?"

"I…I was diagnosed with severe depression. The others were there for me and I managed to pull through. They gave me a reason to live. Santana had no one."

"No one?"

"I…I should've seen it. It was my fault." The more Quinn thought about it, the more the guilt grew.

"Out of everyone, I should've understood!" Tears welled up in Quinn's eyes, silently falling. Quinn's emotions entwined themselves together; she felt frustration, guilt, sadness, and anger.

Quinn didn't where one began and the other ended.

/

They were similar, so much so that, Quinn should've noticed. She should've noticed Santana becoming sullen. She should've noticed the way Santana's hipbones had begun to jut out, or even the pale scars that littered her forearm.

Quinn picked up the razor and pressed its edge against her skin. It was cold. She wanted to drag it up her arm, to feel the pain shooting up her arm, to mark her pale skin, and release her from the grips of this sadness.

She had watched as Santana's mask slipped away one night. Santana had turned up on her doorstep in the middle of the night. Quinn took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

There was a soft knock at the door. Quinn furrowed her eyebrows, why would anyone be knocking at this time of the night. Quinn quietly opened the front door.

"Santana?"

Santana stood there in the dim streetlight, the light softly brushing across her features. She looked sad, there was a vulnerability about her.

"You going to just stare me, Q?"

Quinn stepped aside and allowed Santana to pass. Quinn followed Santana into her bedroom. They both slid under the covers.

Quinn shifted her position so she was face to face with Santana.

"Where have you been?" Quinn blurted out.

"Nowhere. Look Q, I'm not here to talk about myself."

Santana reached out brushed a stray out of Quinn's face.

Quinn realised that this was the Santana beneath the mask. The usual animosity was gone. Santana's brown orbs searched her own hazel eyes.

"Quinn, you're brave..."

Quinn forgot how perceptive Santana was. Quinn hadn't seen in more than a month and Santana could still read her.

"You have so much to live for." Santana continued.

"Don't give up."

Quinn had the support of the Glee club but she still relapsed every now and then.

Santana's hand found Quinn's under the covers and laced their fingers together.

Quinn winced as Santana's hand accidentally brushed against one of her new cuts. She hoped Santana hadn't noticed. (Quinn didn't want her pity.)

She did.

Santana brown eyes were cloudy; they were filled with an emotion that Quinn couldn't decipher.

But it wasn't pity.

Santana sat up, gently tugging at Quinn's arm indicating that she should follow.

Quinn didn't move, she kept her eyes trained on a spot in the ceiling.

Then like she had come, Santana was gone.

Quinn felt the suffocating weight of sadness blanket her again.

The bed sank next to her.

"Quinn."

In Santana's hands rested her collection of razors.

"I'm throwing these out."

Quinn's protest died in her throat.

How had Santana found them? She had so carefully hidden them...

When Santana returned to her room, she pulled Quinn into an embrace.

Santana's fingers closed around her wrist and carefully turned Quinn's arm over.

Angry red lines marred the skin. The crimson a stark contrast to the pale porcelain of her skin.

"Don't..."

"Promise me, Quinn."

Santana looked desperate. See spoke with a frantic urgency.

"No matter what happens. Promise me."

"I promise, S."

Only then did Santana nod, relaxing and letting go of her arm.

"It's late." Santana uttered.

"Get some sleep, Q."

It was last time she saw Santana alive.

Quinn woke up alone in the morning.

/

The razor blade was cold against her skin. She couldn't bring herself to do it.

Quinn flung the razor away in anger. She felt frustration grow.

She couldn't even do it because of her.

Santana.

Santana had just left her alone.

What gave her the right to fucking waltz in and take away her only way of coping? (She couldn't even bring herself to break the promise.)

Santana fucking Lopez had taken the easy route, she had no right to come and comfort Quinn. She had no right to say the things she did.

Quinn's anger deserted her as quickly as it had come leaving her drained. She slumped to the ground and let the darkness take over. (Quinn scoffed. Not that it hadn't taken everything already.)

/

Dear Quinn,

I know you'll be the first to find me. It's tragic really; I know this because no one else cares.

Don't even trying telling me that people do. If they did, they would've noticed that I haven't been at school for four months and done something about it. If my parents cared I wouldn't be home alone for half a year. If my Abuela cared, she would've rang up to check on me. It's okay, really.

Everyone hates me. My parents don't even acknowledge my existence. My Abuela hates me. The Glee Club thinks I'm a complete bitch, I'm sure they would have found a replacement by now. Fuck Quinn, even I hate myself. I hate my body, my face, and the fact that I am gay. I thought I could fuck myself straight. Brittany left me for a boy; I know I will never be able to give her what she wants. I thought a boob job would help but it did nothing but build on my image I projected to the world. My mask. Fuck I'm sure even you will hate me for that I have done.

The paper was crumpled and stained with Santana's dried tears. Her usual neat penmanship was shaky and messy.

I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. I'm so tired. Tired of pretending. Everything just drags on. There's no point in school anymore (so why go?)

There's no hope left for me. By the time you've read this, I will have gone. Maybe if I can't make it, one of us can.

I just had to see you one more time. That night I saw something in you, a spark, and I knew you would have the strength to be fine. Quinn don't give up, you're stronger than me. People love you; you have a lot to live for.

Tears blurred Quinn's vision, she struggled to make out the final words ever written by Santana Lopez.

Promise me Quinn.

-S

The tears spilled out of Quinn's eyes, rolling down her face, landing onto the paper, joining Santana's.

The note fell out of her grasp and fluttered to the ground.

/

"How do you feel?"

"I feel guilty. I feel sad and angry. I'm just... I hate her sometimes."

"I feel I should've seen it. I should've known. I wish I could go back and change it all. I feel it was my fault she..."

"Santan-"

"I hate her so much. I just feel so angry with her. She had the audacity to tell me not to, but she just goes and fucking dies. I can't even touch a razor."

Quinn ran a hand through her hair hoping it would help her feel less untethered.

"I just see her brown eyes and her lifeless eyes staring at me."

The man was quiet. The room was filled with Quinn's quiet sobs.

"Then I feel sad, and melancholic. I just remember the way Santana was that night, open and earnest and my anger melts away into sadness. A endless black hole pulling me in."

"Have you ever thought what Santana would say if she saw you today?"

A ghost of a smile crossed Quinn's face.

"She would say Q, suck it up bitch, and her face would soften before adding, you're better than me, don't be like me."

Quinn closed her eyes. She knew Santana would it finish off with a smirk.

"I have one final question, how do you feel towards Santana Lopez."

"Santana Lopez was the most frustrating, bitchy, snarky people I knew but under all that she was the best of friends, loyal, caring and sweet. We weren't friends, but in a way I think we were closer...

I hate her for what she did to me, yet at the same time I love her. Sometimes just thinking of her makes me smile, other times I am overwhelmed with suffocating sadness.

But...she is...she.."

Quinn took a deep breath.

"...she saved my life."


A/N: Part III of my Quinn/Santana song shuffle collection :) This was long enough to be a stand alone. You can find the others at my AO3 account. Read and review please x