A/N: This is random and off the top of my head. I think it took me half an hour to write, and I almost kept it for myself, but I feel like maybe it's good, so, post.
this is AU and maybe ooc for some characters. Santana and Britt were never together, nor did she sleep with Finn or anyone else for that matter. there may be some i'm missing, I'll address them in later updates.
...
It feels like an anaconda is dying in her stomach, making her both nauseous and amused, however strange that sounds in her own chemically fucked brain. She lays there, in the bed that isn't hers anymore, thinking of the blackness that slowly consumes her.
It's just as hot in the small house as it always is, and yet she feels so cold, the chills rattling the bones of her small frame. When she reaches towards the bedside table her long-deceased abuelo made to pull her phone into her insecure grasp, she thinks it's her body trying to fight back. Surely not her. She wants this. She needs it.
But then she has to think beyond the cloud of thick, dense fog the drugs put around her. Brittany should know she's leaving right? She can imagine her best friend's face when she finds out. Crocodile tears falling over the lip trapped in between white teeth as she insists that It's untrue, that the dying girl would never do this to herself. Never.
And Quinn too. The anger that will consume her, the rage she can barely keep under wraps escaping out into the world that deserves it for what it did to her. She can imagine the break down that will come after the fountain of anger runs dry.
So she tries to call them. Britt first, to say goodbye, because the blonde always gets angry when she goes anywhere without saying it first. She presses the key for her speed dial, eyes closing as she brings it to her ear. When she's done saying good bye, she'll call Quinn as soon as possible, She isn't sure how much time she has left.
It rings once before it's picked up, which is strange. She and Quinn taught the blue-eyed girl to always answer after two so she didn't seem desperate for a call.
"Britt...Britt you're supposed to only answer after two remember? You remember. You always do. I'm so sorry, Britt. I'm so sorry." She wipes her own eyes for the first time since the tears started to fall hours ago.
"Santana? Are you okay? You don't sound coherent...nor drunk exactly. I'm well aware of what you sound like when you're intoxicated." On the other end, Rachel continues to wash her face with the phone on speaker, standing in front of her mirror while she begins her nightly ritual.
"Rach...Rachel?" She didn't mean to call her. She looked at her phone, barely able to make out the smiling face of the beautiful Rachel Berry right above her name and the number three below it. Having the number was a small thing she allowed herself. Actually using it was not allowed.
The same could be said for admiring her, loving her from afar versus actually speaking kindly or honestly. Let alone telling her any of it.
"Santana? Are you alright? You're worrying me. Do you need me to pick you up from the bar or something? I'll be there."
"Rachel...baby...no. No. You can't save me. You shouldn't. I deserve this. I deserve to die. Don't... come to my abuela's. She'll know it's you. Don't come." She couldn't really see anymore. could barely feel anything but the chill clammyness of her own palms. Her eyes closed.
"Santana?! Santana where are you? What's your grandmother's address?" No answer.
Rushing to the house phone she never used, the brunette dialed Quinn's number as quickly as possible, heart beating far too hard in her chest.
"Rachel, what the actual fuck, what do you want?" Quinn passed the bong to Mack next to her, standing to walk out onto the large balcony off the other girl's room.
"Quinn please tell me Santana's grandmother's address. I have to get to her. I have to. Please help me. What is the address?"
"Why should I tell you that? You're fucking killing my high...seriously."
"Fuck you Quinn! She's in danger! Fucking give it to me now!"
"Woah! Ok, um, 486 Oak Beacon in Lima heights." She knew where that was. Without even hanging up, she just grabbed her keys and ran downstairs, into the garage, and into her car, dialing the paramedics as she sped her car towards someone she could logically call her enemy. It took her ten minutes to get there, too long, she thought. Too long.
Leaving her car parked halfway on the grass, she hightailed it to the open door and pushed her way in, looking around quickly.
"Santana?! Santana Lopez please answer me!" It took her another minute to find the right room but once she did she rushed over to the unmoving body, looking down at her while she pressed her fingers against a still pulse point. She wasn't breathing either. The paramedics came running in a few seconds later, flashing bright lights into dark and dilated pupils.
She hopped into the paramedic's van when they slid her in, watching as the emt guy pressed against the latina's still heart and breathed air into her mouth.
"Do you know what she took?" The young man asked her, his eyes sympathetic, warm, and focused. She was sobbing, hand over her mouth as she shook her head.
"No...no. Please just..." It was another two minutes of hard speeding through unimportant traffic lights before they reached the hospital and rolled Santana in, asking her to stay behind in the waiting room. Maybe she would be okay, Rachel thought, she'd probably missed the pulse point, that's why she didn't feel the heavy heartbeat coursing through the vein she'd been searching for.
She called Brittany first.
"Rachie, hi! I'm glad you called me, now we can be friends like San said!" it was going to ruin the naive girl for the rest of her life. She knew it.
"Brittany, have your dad bring you to the hospital in lima heights. Something's happened to Santana." She tried to say it in a way that both was honest and gentle.
"What happened? Is she okay, Rach? She's okay right?"
"I don't know...Just get here Britt."
"Okay. We're in the car now. It'll be ten minutes. She'll be okay when I get there right? She says I always make her feel better, especially when she's sick."
"I need to call Quinn, Britt."
"Okay, I'll ask my dad to rush so i can come make San ok."
"Bye Britt." She hung up, breathing deeply as she pressed Quinn's number at speed dial five.
"Rachel, shit, come on I already gave you the address so you could do whatever the fuck you wanted it for. What the hell else could you want from me?" The pink haired girl scoffed and shook her head, inhaling deeply from the joint in her mouth.
"I need you to come to the hospital in the heights as soon as possible. Something has happened to Santana. She's back there now, they wouldn't let me go with her. I'm not sure she was breathing last time I saw her, Quinn i don't know. She was cold."
"Shit! I'll be there in twenty minutes. I'm in Wapakoneta. I'll hurry. How could she do this? She's always so fucking selfish!" Rachel heard a car door slam and then the vehicle itself start up.
"I'll call her parents. I'll see you when you get here." She stood alone after hanging up, wringing her hands white with the force of it. Seven minutes passed before Brittany showed up, her father Franz following urgently behind her. Rachel had already called Mariana and Theodore Lopez and they would soon arrive if what they said was true.
"Rachel, where is she? Usually when she's sick she sits right there because there's a long wait here. She said it was because they're understaffed, but I don't know what magic has to do with long waits." Rachel disregarded the misunderstanding about staffs of magic versus understaffed and hugged the taller girl to her small body, tears still falling from her red eyes.
"It's...more serious than that, Britt Britt. Santana's in the back already. She hurt herself, and they're trying to save her. I don't know when we can see her." Leaving out the fact that the distraught girl wasn't sure whether they'd be seeing a living girl or a cold body seemed like a good idea.
"She wouldn't hurt herself. She promised me she'd stop after I caught her with my shaving razor that one time last year." She should have paid far more attention. She knew that. But there were more than thirteen people to look after...
"Not like that...like..." She looked up at Franz Pierce, and the older man nodded.
"What do you mean?"
"She tried to kill herself, Britt." It was only then that Rachel saw Quinn behind Franz, who was on the phone explaining to his wife what was happening. Hazel eyes welled with tears before they fell, already ruining the skank's dark eye make-up.
"Quinn, tell Rachie that San wouldn't do that. She promised us! She promised. I don't believe you. Just let me see her and I'll make her better! I even brought my stuffed panther. It helps her feel better when she cuddles it! Let me give it to her Rachel!" The next words from her mouth were interrupted by a doctor who came out and asked for family or a parent. Brittany's father lifted his hand.
"She's alive. We pumped her stomach, but we couldn't get it all out. It's killing her again. We're going to have to perform surgery."
"So she made it? Gracias a dios...what do i need to sign?" The Lopez parents had entered, and it was Santana's mother Mariana who spoke then stepped towards the desk when a paper-heavy clipboard was extended outwards.
"She's alright? When I checked her pulse earlier...she was...dead."
"It was probably barely noticable. She was dead for two minutes in there. We brought her back." Rachel felt herself being wrapped up in Quinn's gracefully muscular arms as she let go of even more of her body's water stores.
"Quinn...she..." All three girls embraced, futilely sharing their pain in an effort to lessen it. Quinn scowled at the Latina's parents while they filled out her medical workup. As if they knew anything about their daughter. It made he sick to her stomach
"She's alive, Rachel. It's okay."