Santana Lopez hardly closed her eyes when her alarm started its annoying beep again. The cardiac surgeon muttered something in Spanish before standing up and draping herself with a fresh pair of white gowns.

"Dr. Lopez to ER 3, stat." The P.A. seemed to yell everything at Santana.

"Alright, fine. Now shut up," Santana walked out of the doctor's function room and hurried to the said room.

"Hey. Lopez!" A blonde doctor called her while she was running. "In good shape today huh?"

"Yup," Santana nodded to the blonde doctor an half-ran across the hallway and ran towards the ER.

It was her last hours of her night-shift duty, and night-shift duties are just the worst a doctor can suffer. Santana was already thinking of a good bath and a nice, good sleep when she gets home.

The brunette doctor went past the glass doors and looked at her patient, who was laying solidly on his bed.

"Mr. Cowell? Mr. Cowell?" The brunette looked straight at the man's dilated pupils.

"How long had it been Mike?" Santana turned to an Asian guy wearing blue scrub clothes.

"Ten…fifteen minutes…no one knows, Santana," Mike said, his eyes dropping low to the ground. He knew how much of a perfectionist Dr. Santana Lopez was.

"Fuck," Santana growled. The cardiac doctor took a scalpel and slit the guys chest, exposing the heart itself. She then massaged it and waited fr it to beat, albeit weakly. A few more clenches and Mike stood there, rooted and unable to move.

The heart started to beat faster. Santana put it back carefully to the slit, then looked at Mike.

"Stitch that for me, Mike," Santana said, no more than a grumble as she threw her gloves to ta trash bin. She made her way across the room and never bothered to look back. Her black wristwatch beeped. As a reflex, the doctor stared at her arm.

It's time to see Rosa.

Rosa Goldberg was a patient of hers who took her attention the very first day they met. She was almost fifty-five, and is ailing with heart failure. Santana really liked her, but somehow Rosa had the weirdest of sorts. She keeps a deck of tarot cards beside her and tries to mumble incoherent things as Santana checks her charts.

Rosa was sitting up on her bed, staring out into the grey skies.

"Hey, Rosa," Santana mumbled as she leaned on the foot of Rosa's bed and checked her vitals.

All good.

"A dancer," Rosa said without averting her eyes from where she was looking.

"What?" Santana's brows furrowed.

"You will fall in love with a dancer."

"Geez, Rosa, you're the only waking patient that I have," Santana growled. "Are you a dancer?" She added as a tease.

"I can say you haven't met him yet."

"Ha-ha, Rosa, I don't think you're right," Santana let out a chuckle. After all, Santana was a lesbian. She'd go for girls instead of men.

The doctor took the charts and left the room. Rosa was the last patient she'll have that day and the moment she stepped out of the door, she was already thinking of her comfy bed.

"Dr. Santana Lopez, please proceed to ER 2…"

Santana had to curse the PA system. One day she'd end that contraption.

She walked into the ER in her scrub clothes. A blonde was lying weakly on the bed.

"What the hell happened?" She demanded.

"She had a sever cupric imbalance…resulting to heart weakness," Quinn, the hospital's head nurse explained.

"Her name?"

"Pierce, Brittany Susan."

Santana moved over the blonde. She was almost like her age, maybe roughly the same as her, take or leave a few years.

"Am I going to die?" Brittany whispered weakly.

"No. I won't let you," Santana said, very much to her surprise, it did not feel like a routine. It did not feel like she was just saying it.

Santana knew that in her damned heart she meant it. Not just as a doctor.

"Are you my doctor?" Brittany looked up to

"Yes, uhh…Brittany," Santana said. She stared into the deep blue eyes that reminded her so much of sapphires.

Half an hour passed and the doctor had removed her gloves and tossed them to the trash bin. She looked to the guy who was sititng on a waiting chair. The man's hair was dishevelled. His eyes were laced with worry.

"Well, , I'm going to go home now, and she's fine, for the time-being. Are you her husband?" Santana asked a brown-haired man who was looking very worried.

"No, I'm her…friend. We worked together," Finn Hudson said, and looked towards the sleeping Brittany. "Will she be safe?"

"Uhh, yeah. As long as her copper traces in the body will stay at a tolerant level," Santana said dismissively.

"Alright then, I need you to sign the admittance papers on the nurses' desk. Now, if you'll excuse me," Santana made her way through the door, glancing softly to the blonde-haired girl that was sleeping on the hospital bed.

Santana Lopez drove across the highway with the blonde on her mind. She pulled up in her driveway in Lima Heights Adjacent. The Latina flopped herself onto her white-covered bed and kicked off her shoes.

The brunette slept immediately as her head touched the pillow. Yet, that sleep was not as uneventful as the usual sleeps that she had.

Santana was standing on the deck of the yacht when she saw a commotion in the water. She looked down to see it clearly. Someone was drowning. Santana hurried out to help. A hand shot up and to the Latina's surprise, she had easily managed to catch the hand. She pulled out the person out of the water easily. Suddenly, as she was halfway then, it became imposibble to pull the person out of the water. Santana started to panic and looked at the person as if she was searching for a reason what the hell had happened. To her surprise, she's met with the same blue eyes she had seen earlier that day.

It was Brittany.

The blonde yelped for help when Santana felt and saw Brittany being pulled down to the water. The Latina tugged and pulled her back up, but to no avail. Santana could feel the frail, pale hands slipping from her fingers.

The brunette franctically groped for the hand, but slowly, slowly, she felt as if the hand was drifting away…until all that was left was a disturbed wake of water as Brittany went down the deep blue sea.

Santana sat up on her bed, fully awake. She looked at the bedside digital cloc that sat on her bedside had just slept for thirty minutes, but it felt as if she can't dare or will herself to go back to bed. The sweat that hung across the forehead felt cold to the running air conditioner that was humming in a low tone.

The brunette made her way to the bathroom.

"God…" she mumbled as she washed her face with the running water and she looked at herself. She decided she'd make some tea to help her relax. She thought over her dream again.

The heck, as if I knew that girl. Damn, Lopez, she's just a patient.

The doctor sat on her couch, sipping her tea. A few more moments passed and her thoughts drifted back to the blonde.