The first time Rachel sees Quinn it takes all of her efforts not to crumple up on the floor and sob. There's wires popping out of her green hospital gown and tubes feeding her oxygen and that strange clip is attached to her index finger (Rachel never understood it, but imagined it did something important). Her blonde hair hangs limply around her face. Her eyes are shut, and she looks almost peaceful, though still unconscious. Her arm is bandaged and in a sling, her cheeks peppered with stiches and tiny cuts from the glass. Bruises run across her collarbones and down her functioning arm. Rachel almost forgets that other people are around her until Brittany puts both hands on her shoulders and guides her into a chair next to the bed. Immediately, Rachel snatches up Quinn's loose arm and intertwines their fingers. Santana and Brittany stand at the foot of the bed in a similar position, and Judy sits across the bed from Rachel, her chin leaning on her fists and her eyes wet. Rachel observes the blonde lying motionless on the bed and mutters brokenly,
"She doesn't look like herself at all. She looks sad. Droopy."
"Our friend just got hit by a truck." Santana say pessimistically, staring blankly at Quinn. Brittany takes to rubbing Santana's arms and giving Rachel and Judy an apologetic look. Santana always becomes blunt when something terrible happens. Quinn really doesn't look like herself, though. Her hair is messy, although kindly tucked behind her ears. Her skin is lacking its usual luster and her neck is bare, a change from its constant array of chain necklaces that rotate every other day. Her ears don't bear their usual studs and her makeup from the afternoon is smeared and smudged every which way. Brittany rifles through her bag and pulls out 2 barrettes. One has a row of white pearls on it, and the other is a simple brown bobby pin.
"We'll make her look like Quinn again," Brittany says with a weary smile and takes a few steps towards Rachel. She leans over and clips Quinn's bangs back to the right side, criss-crossing the pins to assure that they stay for a while. "There. Now she looks like herself. Kind of. A little bit."
Judy stands and pulls Quinn's gold cross chain out of her blazer pocket. She links it behind Quinn's neck and gently caresses the side of her daughter's face before she returns to her seat. Santana opens up her purse and pulls out a tube of her sweetest strawberry lip gloss. She dabs it onto Quinn's lips and swipes a make-up removing wipe over her face to rid it of the smeared mascara and smudged foundation that is spread all over. Her face is clear, though still slightly dull. At least she's clean. She smiles at her work well done and pats Rachel on the shoulder. Rachel reaches up to her ears, removing her dainty pearl earrings and positioning them on Quinn's.
"Now that's our Quinn." Brittany whispers with quiet satisfaction in her voice.
…...
Brittany pulls Santana down to the floor and they lean against the wall as Judy and Rachel occupy the only two chairs. She tucks Santana's head into the crook of her neck and runs her fingers through silky brown hair. Their fingers are linked and ankles hooked around one another's. Not a minute later Brittany feels a moist patch of tears on her shoulder and Santana shakes silently, crying softly. She hushes and coos as she rubs her hand up and down Santana's back. It isn't long before she looks up and finds Judy's face in her hands, making the saddest sobbing noises. She glances over to see Rachel hunched over her and Quinn's hands, her shoulders quaking and her whimpering notable. Brittany leans back, her head hitting the wall. Tears well up in her eyes and her she clings to Santana's hand. Santana leans over and lays her head in Brittany's lap, encircles her arms around her waist and cries into Brittany's stomach. She looks so helpless and pathetically pained. Brittany reaches down and pulls Santana's whole body into her lap, cradling her like a baby. Santana wraps her arms around Brittany's shoulders and a loud sob escapes from her lips. The blonde lets out an urgent and caring hush as she holds her in her arms. Brittany puts a hand to the back of Santana's neck and presses their cheeks together. More hushing and cooing. She holds an arm around Santana's body and keeps her close as she leans over and removes Santana's off-white kitten heels. Her bare feet immediately cross limply at the ankles. She tucks a hand under Santana's knees to bend them and brushes hair away from her face as it sticks to her cheeks and forehead. She gently rocks her and presses a kiss to her hair. Santana cries harder. The hushing does nothing to soothe her sobbing but it feels like it's something. Santana pulls her head away from Brittany's neck.
"Our b-best f-friend" Santana says, her words broken up by a quivering chin and sharp intakes of breath, "got hit by a truck B. A big damn truck." Her eyebrows furrow and her lip juts out uncontrollably. Each time she inhales, her chest heaves and her breath is choppy.
"Oh honey, I know." Brittany says kindly, pressing Santana's cheek back against her own. She knows, she really does know. Her thoughts are interrupted by that choppy breathing again. She strokes her fingers along Santana's shoulders and she subtly settles a bit. It's really quite unbelievable, the day she has had. One minute Rachel is getting married, the next they're flying 90 miles per hour down the expressway and running through the Lima General parking lot in bubblegum pink bridesmaid's dresses and a fluffy white wedding gown. She never in her wildest nightmares imagined this day finishing out with her girlfriend sobbing on the floor of a hospital and her best friend laying stoic in the bed.