I wrote this because I will never be satisfied with the way Quinn's accident was handled.
Slash, my life is in shambles and wouldn't allow me to work on my other projects and I NEEDED to write something.
When Puck's cell started ringing as Rachel continued to stall at the alter, it seemed like, for at least a second, all odds were in favor of Quinn making it to the wedding. As antsy as Finn was to get through the wedding, everyone knew he wouldn't tie the knot without his on-and-off again best friend standing by his side.
So when Puck stepped out to take a call from a number he didn't recognize, everyone could breath easier for a second.
Rachel because, for as much as she claimed to be desperately in love with Finn, now, in this dress, at this alter, Quinn's warning engraved in her mind, she was second guessing her own decision.
The parents because now they had just a little more time to figure out how to put a stop to a wedding no one thought should be happening.
Will because, as much as he adored both Finn and Rachel, he knew first-hand what it meant to rush into a marriage you're not ready for. They weren't ready.
Kurt because, though he didn't have the courage that Quinn Fabray did to tell Rachel to her face, he, too, knew Finn had no right to ride on Rachel Berry's coattails.
And Santana because the whole idea of any of them getting married at this age honestly scared the shit out of her. She yearned to hold on to eighteen for as long as she could, and with things like weddings and graduation anxiously looming over her head, real life was becoming increasingly harder to push away. Not to mention, Brittany had not so subtlety mentioned how they should be "next to walk the carpet to the love arch." It wasn't a comment she had necessarily been able to dismiss from her tumultuous thoughts.
When Puck trudged back into the room, eyes glistening, almost every thought went to his mother, the last parental figure the boy had whom he'd lost almost a year prior. It was the only time anyone had ever seen the boy cry openly.
When the teary-eyed boy made no move to reclaim his spot behind Finn and instead remained by the door that slowly closed behind him, head hung low, it was Santana that approached him. She was desperately looking for any excuse to get out of the wedding that was making her feel more and more claustrophobic as the minutes passed, and if that meant that s comforting her former flame while he wept for lingering feelings of mourn, then so be it.
When Santana moved to lead him out of the make-shift chapel and he rashly pulled away she felt herself grow slightly more irritated, but did not fight him. If the boy wanted to make a scene at his best friend's wedding, who was she to stop him.
When Finn, finally giving way to the nerves that were slowly eating away at him the longer the wedding dragged on, begged for everyone to "just focus for a couple minutes so we can get through this," missing the way his bride faltered at how anxious he seemed, it was all eyes on Puck as he uttered a sentence that, for a second, made everyone present stop breathing.
"Quinn's dying."
When Santana finally made it to the hospital, followed closely by many of her fellow bridesmaids, all decked out in pink, she couldn't slow down her mind enough to take in of her surroundings. If she had, she probably would have been surprised to see that her car had been one of the last to arrive. Even beat by Quinn's ever elusive mother, Judy Fabray, and the always apathetic, Sue Sylvester.
She probably also would have gotten a kick out of the scene that they were most likely making in the middle of a waiting room. It's not everyday that one sees an entire wedding party in the middle of the ER.
News seemed to have traveled fast about Quinn's accident. All of New Directions seemed to be present and accounted for, including Mr. Shue. Both Finn and Rachel's parents were present, as well as both Puck's younger sister and Mercedes' mother.
In a way, it was funny because Quinn Fabray would never believe that there were this many people that cared about her.
In fact, when Santana finally did find a moment of clarity to get her bearings, she was thrown back by all the emotion that seemed to be filling the room.
Brittany was sobbing into her side, every now and again asking no one in particular if Quinn was okay. No one bothered to answer.
Sam was a couple of seats down, seemingly in an intense prayer as tears dripped onto his clasped hands.
Puck was practically inconsolable after almost being forcibly removed for getting too rowdy with grief, eventually being calmed down by Mr. Shue.
Rachel and Finn were as far away from each other as the room would allow. Rachel, still in her wedding dress, was crying her eyes out in a corner as her dads tried their best to console her. Finn, for his part, was doing his upmost to keep from lashing out after seeing the way Puck was almost tossed out. But the way he kept tapping his foot and grabbing at his hair was a dead giveaway to his anguish.
Even Sue Sylvester seemed to not know what to do, being utterly powerless for what must have felt like the first time. People often forgot that, while Sue and Quinn had their many many differences, Sue always had a soft spot for her ex-head Cheerio. She lashed out her frustrations at every nurse that happened by her, demanding updates and damning the entire healthcare system.
However, it was Judy Fabray that Santana found herself identifying with most. It was no surprise to Santana that Judy was there; she had learned some time ago about the rekindled relationship between Quinn and her mother. What was surprising, though, was how quiet the grieving mother was. Her dad being a doctor, as well as her brief stint as a candy striper, Santana found herself in and out of the hospital quite often. Unfortunately, that meant that she had witnessed firsthand the emotional damage the loss of a child can inflict on a mother.
But Judy Fabray. Judy Fabray merely sat there, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. Not a single tear in her eyes. To be fair, the woman did look absolutely broken. To Santana, she looked like a mother who was on the verge of losing out an a second chance. And when Santana thought about it, she guessed she was.
Also not surprising was the absence of Quinn's ex-father (as the blonde referred to him). With the way Quinn's last trip to the hospital had left her entire family in shatters, no one really expected to ever see him again.
Santana felt herself drawn to the older Fabray woman because she, too, had yet to cry. Not when Puckerman had delivered the news. Not when Rachel Berry had burst into tears in the way only a woman meant for Broadway could. Not when Brittany had softly asked her if Quinn was going to be a real angel as she cried in her shoulder. Not when Puck flipped out over the fear of losing one of the best friends he would probably ever have. Not when Sam's praying finally gave way to his tears. Not when Mercedes got Kurt to pray for what was probably the second time in his entire life. Not when Mr. Shue started to softly singto himself as he sat in the waiting room for Quinn for the second time.
It was several hours later, many people passed out in the impossibly uncomfortable chairs, Finn pacing outside, and others trying their best to comfort each other while simultaneously dealing with their own grief, when the doctor came out, scrubs covered in what Santana could only assume was Quinn's blood, and announced that rather Quinn lived or died would be entirely up to how her now comatose body responded to the surgery she'd just been through, citing the dire importance of the next twenty-four hours.
Only then did Santana allow a tear to streak across her cheek.
Because Quinn didn't die. Quinn could die, but Quinn didn't die. Because Quinn's a fighter and if she could make it out of getting T-boned by a truck in that clown car she drove around, then there was no way she would let herself die in the same hospital that she'd made the decision to finally start living for herself after narrowly avoiding a surgery that she never believed she needed.
Deep in her bones, Santana knew that Quinn was being granted a second chance at life. A second chance to live. And she'd be damned if she didn't make sure that she did.
It would be two weeks before Quinn Fabray would open her eyes again.
She'd made it through the night the day of the accident, the surgery a success. A broken spine, a punctured lung, a fractured wrist, and a broken nose had left the girl almost unrecognizable as she lay unmoving in her hospital bed. And each day, her room was filled with the many faces of those that cared about her, hoping against hope that the blonde would finally wake up.
Glee practices were unarguably solemn in-between the accident and Quinn waking up. Rachel, riddled with guilt, had not only continuously refused to sing but had also ditched her would've-been husband, an obvious coping mechanism to handle the guilt. Finn, heartbroken over his emotionally broken ex-fiancé and heavy hearted for his physically broken ex-girlfriend, only showed up sporadically. Puck, while he did sing, did not do so in Glee practices. He spent every free moment he had at Quinn's bedside, quietly urging her to wake up or serenading her with his guitar.
Santana, however, continued to show up for both Glee and Cheerio's practice. She couldn't say that her heart was in it, but she was there. She was there because somebody had to be. Somebody had to offer some kind of normalcy because everyone else seemed lost. She had to be there for Brittany, her girlfriend, who had never known what it was like to almost lose someone you love and had no idea how to deal. She had to be there for Puck because the the boy was slowly slipping into a depression and his grades were reflecting it.
In private, she even had to be there for Judy Fabray. With Quinn unconscious in a hospital, the thought of Judy alone in her home with nothing but her regret and remorse was undeniably tragic.
It started after Judy and Santana had found each other, both silently crying outside of the hospital for. The older blonde had offered Santana a shoulder to cry on and Santana had offered one right back.
Santana tried her damndest to be there for the ones she believed needer her to be.
But not Puck, not Brittany, not even Judy knew about Santana's almost nightly visits to Quinn's room those two weeks.
Long since knowing the ins of how to sneak into Lima General Hospital, Santana was at Quinn's bedside every night, an unbroken hand clasped in Santana's own. Some nights she would just sit in silence, staring at Quinn's heart monitor and reminding herself that Quinn was technically alive. Other nights she would bring a book and read it aloud to her blonde friend because she knew how much of a book nerd the girl was.
But, most nights she would just talk to her.
She'd spend all night sometimes talking about memories they shared, sometimes things that would probably embarrass Quinn if she could hear. Sometimes she'd tell Quinn about her after high school fears, and even about her passions. And she would do that until she could see a glimpse of sunlight and knew the nurses would be in to do their rounds.
So, it was in one of those moments, while telling Quinn about how she sometimes dreams about becoming a social worker because she's never felt more proud of herself than when she sees that her interference has benefited someone, even when they don't know it's her, that Quinn opened her eyes for the first time in two weeks.
It wasn't what Santana was expecting would happen when Quinn eventually woke up. There was no rush of euphoria, dramatic tears or frantic nurses rushing in. To be fair, it was almost four in the morning, so most sane people were probably asleep.
But, when foggy hazel met exhausted brown, there was a common feeling of relief. Relief that Quinn had woken to something familiar. Relief that Quinn had woken up finally. Relief that Quinn had woken up at all.
And, maybe most importantly, relief that Quinn hadn't woken up alone.