AN: Minor Trigger Warning for graphic description of an assault. Nothing too bad but better safe than sorry. And, I hope you guys enjoy this one.
-x-
Santana Lopez begrudgingly dragged herself into the locker room to get ready for her first shift of the week at the hospital. She loved her job but the first shift is always the toughest, especially after a long weekend.
"How was your weekend with your giiiirlfriend, Lopez?" teased her best friend and colleague Quinn Fabray as she opened the locker next to Santana's.
"She is NOT my girlfriend; sex isn't dating." Santana scoffed as she pulled out the scrubs she'd be wearing for the first part of her 36 hour shift in the E.R.. "And, it was all right until she said we should move in together. Major turn off." She shook her head in annoyance as she finished changing. She sat down on the bench, waiting for Quinn to finish changing. "We were coming down from a round of steamy sex, when she says 'let's live together. Then we can do this whenever we want.' This crazy bitch. Like, what is she talking about? We DO, well I do, do this whenever we want. She doesn't need to be on my lady dick 24/7. Who the hell wants that? I kindly gathered my clothing and left. I went home and caught up on my telenovelas with Tequila." She finished with a simple shrug.
"Santana," Quinn began as started to undress "what are you doing? Not just with your 'pseudo girlfriend' but, what are you doing with your life? You're 32 years old, working 96 hours weeks, and when you're not working you're going through girls like we go through scrubs. I can't even remember the last time you messed around with a girl longer than a month!" She exclaimed as she yanked up her pants.
"What's wrong with that?" Santana responded with a smirk. "That sounds perfect to me, it seems to me that I'm living the life."
Quinn arched her eyebrow at her friend as she shut her locker. "Look, for some fucked up reason, you're my best friend; I care about you. You're in your 30's now, don't you think you should begin to at least try to settle down right about now? Why don't you give Elaine a shot? She's nice, she's been putting up with your bullshit for this long, and she's attractive. You're not going to find much better. Sorry, no offense." She saw that Santana was going to protest but kept going, "What's stopping you from actually trying to form an adult relationship with her instead of fucking girls like you're still in college?"
"I don't need anyone. I'm fine with the way things are right now. I like my space and when I need company, I can cuddle up to my little chihuahua I have waiting for me at home. When I need family, I can FaceTime my family or I can just borrow your kids. And when I need lady company, I can go out and find that. It's fine, I am fine. The only reason Elaine has been around this long is because we work together so we can sneak in quickies in the on-call room and she isn't – well, wasn't – pushing me for anything more." Santana cringes at the memory of Elaine insanely suggesting they move in together. "She's fine with the way things are. If she brings up this living together bullshit again, I'm banning her from my lady loving factory for good. Problem solved." Santana dismissively waved her hand.
Quinn sighed, she really does love Santana but wishes she would settle down. She doesn't want Santana to regret how she's been living now when she's older and alone. Alone with a damn chihuahua.
"Santana, I just want you to be happy. Truly happy. I know I sound like a broken record but the only way you're going to get me to stop is to stop fucking around, settle down, and give your nieces and nephews some cousins. Even Rachel, who spent about seven years praying that you never reproduce, is asking for some nieces to spoil and some nephews to dress up."
"Okaayyy, hold on." Santana exclaimed as she held up her hands, shocked that Quinn would suggest such a thing. "Kids? Calm that shit down, babe. I'm not in pediatrics for a reason. Just because you and Treasure Trail have an army of little monsters, doesn't mean I have to go through the tragedy that is parenthood. I'm more than happy just being 'Auntie San-San'. I love your kids, you know I do. BUT, do you know what I love more?"
"What?" questioned Quinn. What could she possibly love more than her kids, her kids were awesome.
"Giving them the hell back." Santana answered with a smug look on her face which promptly turned into a horrified look. "My poor little chihuahua can't handle anymore damn bows or glitter eyelashes, I'm tired of repainting over your kids' 'masterpieces' in my living room, and I will always resent Amy for puking all over my Armani cigarette pants that one time. She could've aimed three inches to the left and all would've been fine!" And she takes a second to pay respect to those pants. "But, no! It's like she was out for vengeance. I'm telling you, she's going to end up wearing flannel and jean cutoffs for the rest of her life, kid doesn't know fashion when she sees it." she muttered while crossing her arms again.
"Yeah, that was hilarious and completely your fault. Why would you wear that around a two year old, Santana? You're a damn doctor too, you know the digestive trends in children." Quinn takes a second to think about what she wants to say. As she begins she lays a comforting hand on Santana's knee. "All of that stuff you said is true, and theeeen some. But it's also just tiny part of parenthood. When they run into your arms, telling you they love you and that they have the bestest and prettiest mommies in the whole wide world, all the puke and sleepless nights and ruined shoes are all forgotten." She let's Santana take all of that in but she knows it probably didn't have any affect. "And, by the way, thanks for naming your dog 'Tequila.' I just absolutely love the looks we get when they tell their teachers and friends' parents all about how awesome Tequila is and how they can't wait to spend time with Tequila." Quinn sarcastically finished while glaring at Santana.
Santana chuckled a little, "Don't blame that on me, he chose his own name when he miraculously pulled out that bottle of Cuervo from my liquor cabinet. It was meant to be. And it was Cuervo Silver so he knows his shit." She joked as she looked down at her watch. "All right, all right, as much as I would love to sit here on this disgusting locker room bench and chit chat about all the wonderful lady sex I'm having because I'm not taking care of four little kids all day, I think there are people in that waiting room that may or may not be in need of medical attention. And, who better to tend to them medically if not this piece of fine ass, who just so happens to have a couple of degrees?" Santana said as she motioned toward her own body as she began to walk out. "Oh, and another thing? Don't you or Rachel ever call Elaine or any other girl I fuck my 'girlfriend.' That's fucking gross, okay?"
Santana walked out letting the locker room door slam shut. She checked her beeper and phone as she made her way toward the elevator, occasionally catching the eye of a nurse or another doctor. Even in scrubs, she had the ability to make ladies swoon. She swears it's the hair. Doesn't matter if they're extensions, it still looks damn good. She reaches the elevator and as soon as the doors are about to close, Elaine just manages to slither in.
Son of bitch, Santana thought, this is NOT fucking Grey's Anatomy.
"Hey, babe." Greeted Elaine and leaned in to give Santana a kiss. Santana accepted the kiss but only offered a nod as a response. "Sooo, did you think about what I said?"
"Yes, I did. Thank you, I think I will start using your mechanic to get my tune-ups from now on." Santana offered a tight-lipped smile as she tried to play dumb.
After Elaine scoffed, she was pretty sure playing dumb didn't really pan out. Damn it, she has to cut Elaine off now.
"Santana, we've been going at this for months now." Oh, my gosh, Santana thought. How long is this fucking elevator ride. It's only three fucking floors. "I need some sort of sign that you want to be with me instead of just wanting to fuck me or I'm going to walk away from this." Right on cue, the doors opened. Yes!
"Sorry, I don't do that. See you around, you were really cool. Let's have drinks, but without the sex. Call me." Santana tried to appease the situation but didn't really know how well that'll work out. It wouldn't hurt to have friends, right? There's only so much of the Fabrays she can take. And Kurt? Don't even get her started on Kurt. But she can't really complain, he's always trying to dress her up like his own personal Dominican Barbie doll. His own outfits are hit or miss but his outfits for her are always on point.
Maybe Quinn did have a point. Maybe she's too old to be sleeping around. As much as she hated to admit it, her looks weren't going to last forever. And without her looks, what did she have? Money, a dog, and the best collection of heels this side of the Mason-Dixon line. What was that going to get her? A gold-digger or Kurt for the rest of her life. Santana grimaces at the thought of solely being the hag to his fag forever.
Damn it, Quinn. Fuck you.
As she was planning her revenge against Quinn, her beeper went off, signaling that her presence was needed immediately at the E.R.. She jogged the rest of the way to the double doors and pushed through to hear the sirens of the ambulance and the EMTs yelling out the stats of the patient.
"Blood pressure has been continuously dropping since we picked her up. We administered meds and oxygen but now her BP is 42 over 30. She has severe lacerations to her face and abdomen. Her ribs are visible broken and there is a massive amount of blood pooling in the area." the EMT finished informing the doctors.
"Okay, prep her for an OR. She's losing too much blood. It'll have to be an exploratory laparotomy for now and do as much damage control as they can." Santana finished ordering when she saw the police officers in uniform waiting by the entrance. She turned around to find a nurse, "Tell them that it's going to be at least a few hours until she's out of the OR, let alone lucid, all right? Thanks."
She turned to the patient and followed her being pushed to the prep room before the OR, while reading her charts once more. She read all she had to read and that's when she let herself really look at the patient for the first time.
Her shirt was torn and then cut open by the paramedics and the bruising on her torso was painfully obvious. There was extreme bruising on her neck and chest, her lips were split open and blood smeared around her mouth. Santana was almost certain that her cheekbones were shattered just by looking at them. The patient was unconscious due to the amount of sedatives and pain relievers that had been administered but she still needed to check the patient's eyes to check for brain reactivity.
As Santana got closer to the patient, she had to look down for a second to pull her little flashlight down. When she went to position her hands over the patients brow, the patient suddenly opened her eyes.
She could see how scared the woman was, her blue eyes kept looking around but stopped as she looked right into Santana's eyes. Santana was startled, not only because she was not expecting the woman to have this sort of reactivity from a patient this with this amount of trauma but also because of how beautiful those eyes were. When Santana felt her shirts being pulled at, she looked down to see the woman's hand holding on to her shirt. She looked up again to see the woman moving her lips trying to say something.
As the woman's lip movement became more pronounced, Santana got closer to hear what she was trying to say.
All she could hear was gurgling due to the amount of blood in the woman's mouth.
"P, puh." The woman took a small pause and tried to swallow before speaking again "please." She managed to let out.
Santana felt the hand on her shirt pulling more forcefully. As she heard the woman say 'please' once more, she understood what the woman wanted. As she took the woman's hands into hers, she offered a small smile and gave a reassuring squeeze.
"I'm Santana, I'm a doctor here. Try to stay calm. You're badly injured so you're going to be taken into surgery to help you." Santana tried to speak as slowly and as comforting as she could. The nurses came in to take the woman into the operating room. As they began to roll the patient away, Santana knew she had to let go of the woman's hand. How she reacted earlier and holding the woman's hand was breaking protocol, she knew that. But, right now, she didn't care. Santana didn't want to let go of this woman's hands for any reason.
She looked up at the woman to see her eyes locked on Santana's. All the fear Santana saw in those eyes, made her heart clench and her soul hurt. Santana couldn't handle it. She quickly moved closer to the woman, squeezing her hand back to reassure her. Santana brought her other hand up to the woman's hair to run her fingers through it.
"You're going to be okay. You're going to be all right. You'll make it. I promise you. I swear it." Santana promised as she looked straight into that woman's crystal blue eyes. Even like this, even in this life or death situation, Santana couldn't help but to notice this woman's breath-taking eyes.
"Dr. Lopez." said one of the male nurses, motioning toward the double doors leading into the OR.
Santana glared at him and then looked back down at the woman. "You'll be fine. I'll be there when you wake up. You'll be fine, I promised." Santana leaned down and gave her the most gentle kiss on her forehead. "I promise." She whispered one last time. The woman nodded and loosened her grip. As they rolled her away, Santana kept looking into her eyes, feeling the woman's hand slip out of her own.
She stood there staring at the double doors the woman had gone through until Quinn startled her.
"Dr. Lopez!" Santana shook her head trying to gather herself and then turned around to face Quinn. "May I have a word with you for a second? I need a second opinion on a patient." Santana knew by the tone of Quinn's voice that she was in trouble. Before Santana could acknowledge, Quinn had already been walking away, expecting Santana to follow her.
The second Santana closed the door to the nearest on-call room, Quinn began, "Santana, what the fuck was that? You held that patient's hand, you fucking PROMISED that she would survive and, last but not fucking least, you kissed her!" she finished as she threw her hands in the air. "Santana, this isn't your first year, you damn well know how you fucked up in there. You're lucky that everyone is scared shittless of you because if it were anyone else, they would not have hesitated in the slightest to report to the Chief. Explain. Explain what the hell just happened?" Quinn demanded.
Santana sighed as she sat down, not looking at Quinn. She ran her fingers through her hair as she herself tried to understand what happened. In all of her years practicing medicine, had she done something like that.
"Quinn, I can't explain it. I honestly can't." she said as she shrugged her shoulders in frustration. "I got there and everything was fine. I was with her when she was taken back, I was about to check for abnormal retinal movement when she latched on to my shirt and opened her eyes. Oh, my gosh, her eyes, Quinn. They were, were, I don't know! I, I, there aren't any other words to describe them. She talked to me, she wanted me to hold her hand. So I did. She was so afraid, Quinn. So, so afraid. I didn't want to let go of her hand, I knew it was wrong but I didn't want to let go. I didn't even see you there, I didn't see anyone else there. Son of a bitch, I don't even know her name. And that kiss, I don't know. I really don't know. I've never done that. I've been at this for what? Six, seven years? I've gotten patients in more extreme cases and I've never done that. I don't know why. What I do know is that I'm going to be there when she wakes up. That is not a promise I'm not willing to break. That kiss was a promise, I'm not willing to break." Santana was in tears at the end of her rant, but her voice was determined.
Quinn didn't know what to do or say. She'd had never seen Santana break protocol with a patient and she had never seen Santana cry like this. At a loss for words, she simply sat down next to her and wrapped her arms around her. She let Santana cry into her chest, while rubbing her back trying to soothe her.
Santana abruptly pulled back to look at Quinn. "What's wrong with me? Why is my face crying?" She lifted her hands to her face, wiping off tears. "What is this?" She asked as she held her moist hand in front of Quinn's face, "I'll tell you what this is, this is bullshit. Tears, these are damn tears!"
Okay, this was the Santana that Quinn knew how to deal with.
"Okay, bitch. Big deal you cried, get over it." Quinn said as she rose to her feet and continued before Santana could cut her off. "Look, I've never seen you behave this way, especially at work. I've never seen you cry like this either. I don't know what to tell you except, you're still on duty for the next 30 something hours. You're a fucking doctor, get your shit together and don't let this happen again. Also, she's going to be in surgery for at least five hours. So, in exactly four hours, you're going to go down there to make sure everything is going all right and to ask what room number she'll be in for recovery. Then you're going to tell me so I can meet my new sister-in-law." Quinn teased at that last part, hoping to get a reaction from Santana.
But, she was wrong. Santana just sat there with a blank expression on her face, looking at the wall. Her mouth opening and closing as she was trying to find words.
"Santana?" Quinn asked a bit worried. "Santana?" she asked a bit louder.
"Oh. My. Gosh." Santana whispered. "What. If. You're. Right?" Her eyes widen as she continued. "I've never done this before, what do I do?" She stood up and grabbed Quinn's shaking shoulders. "This is all your fault! If you hadn't had spewed all that shit about me making lady babies and getting married, this wouldn't have happened. Damn it, Quinn! WHAT. DO. I DO?" Santana asked, punctuating every word with a shake of Quinn's shoulders.
This was definitely the Santana she knew how to handle.
Before she knew it, Quinn had lifted her hand and slapped her across the face.
She stunned Santana into stopping her nonsense. Santana wiped her face, squared her shoulders, cleared her throat.
"Thank you for that. I'm going to go do rounds." Santana said as she made her way toward the door. But Quinn stopped her before she could reach the door knob.
"Hey, Santana?"
"Yeah?" Santana turned around to face Quinn.
"Pierce, Brittany S." replied Quinn. "That's her name. Brittany S. Pierce."
Santana turned around without responding and walked out.
"Brittany." She said softly as she smiled to herself.
-x-
AN: I'd like to give my Baby Unicorn a shout out for putting up with me while writing this. Thanks, boo boo.
