As We Lay Dying
Summary: After many years apart, Dr. Lopez reunites an injured Santana and a cancer-stricken Brittany in hopes of reconciling a shattered relationship before time runs out.
Words: 2367
Rating: T
Authors Note: I don't own Glee.
Look both ways before you cross the street.
It was a simple suggestion, or order, recommendation, whichever (it should have been the law), that was drilled into the heads of every kid in the world. Teachers, parents, police officers and all kinds of adults explain the necessity of looking both ways, constantly. Growing up, it should have become a habit for every person to follow this procedure. It wasn't even that hard of a drill. Turn your head to the right, search. Turn your head to the left, search again. Then walk forward.
Walk forward and hopefully you don't get slammed by a eight foot, speeding, massive SUV. Hopefully your head wouldn't crash against the dark cement before having your legs get mauled over by the wheels of said vehicle.
Hopefully.
Unless you did look both ways before crossing the streets, because if you did...you wouldn't really need hope or luck to get you to the other side of the sidewalk, considering the fact that you did looked both ways.
Turn your head to the right, search.
Left, search.
Walk for-
"Miss? Miss! Are you okay?"
"Of course she's not okay, look at her! Oh dear lord, someone call the police, oh god..."
"Hello? Yes, we got a young women who was just hit by a vehicle, she's- yes!- between Lakeview and Eleanor, hurry!"
"She's bleeding..."
"Can you hear..."
"They're co..."
The voices were slowly becoming distant. A deafening ring replaces the frantic sounds, drowning everything else away. A dull, throbbing pain emerges in her abdomen, easing its way across her chest and suddenly she feels suffocated. A gut wrenching scream fights its way through the back of her throat where she lies on the ground covered in something warm and sticky. Something she registers as her own blood.
Pain. There's pain everywhere and it's only getting worse.
Her eyes are shut, or maybe they're open and she's become blind. She doesn't know anything anymore. She can't comprehend anything except the warmth that has now encompassed her thighs, legs, feet. She feels as if she's on fire.
Make it stop. Make it stop.
Other than the excruciating pain coursing through her, Santana is left with her thoughts. She hears herself begging for forgiveness. Asking God to forgive her for all of her sins, because this pain is too unbearable. She understands. She understands her punishment, she gets it now, so please, make it stop.
Make it stop.
As soon as these thoughts plague her mind, she feels herself loosing consciousness.
Good. Let me die already, I can't handle this anymore.
The last thing she remembers before slipping away into a deep slumber is a memory of a young blonde staring at her with critical eyes, before exclaiming in a mocking, yet serious voice.
"Look both ways before crossing the street, San!"
"Dr. Lopez?"
The door creaks slowly open revealing his assistant behind it.
"I've been paging you for the past three minutes," she begins with a grim expression, "A Dr. Robinson is on the line waiting for you."
He lowers his glasses and shifts in his chair, "What's it regarding?"
"He said he's from UCLA Medical Center and...sir, I think you should take the call." Before Carlos could question her, she retreats back to her desk leaving him with a blinking telephone machine. Sighing, he picks the phone up. "Dr. Carlos Lopez, how may I help you?"
The voice of a seemingly young man comes through the receiver, "Hello, sir. This is Kevin Robinson, trauma surgeon of UCLA Medical Center in..." Carlos finds himself zoning out as the doctor on the other end continues on. His attention focuses in on the paper at his desk, the one he'd been giving his undivided attention to the past hour. The dread that lingers over his heart grows immensely every time he reads the bold letters across the paper. "Sir? Dr. Lopez?"
He jumps slightly, remembering the person he was supposed to be speaking to. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
"I'm confirming whether you are her father or not."
A new sense of dread suddenly washes over him and he carefully chooses his next words, "I am the father of Santana Lopez..." He only had one daughter.
"Very well, sir. I am truly sorry-"
"What?" He barks, "What happened?"
He feels Dr. Robinson hesitate, "Well, the injuries from the accident she sustained has-"
Dr. Lopez finds himself standing over his desk, blood running cold, "What accident?" He mentally curses himself from zoning out before.
"Your daughter was hit by an SUV around six A.M., sir, even though I've already went through the details, I'll explain again." He waits with a held breath, "Ms. Lopez was walking through the streets of Los Angeles where she was hit by a vehicle at an intersection.
If feels as though all the air in his office has been sucked right out. He lets out an anguish cry and collapses back into his chair, focusing all his attention on his grip on the phone.
"We accessed her emergency contacts and the first number, a Ms. Brittany Susan Pierce, turned out to be expired well over a year-"
"The injuries!" Carlos spat, unable to contain himself longer. "Is she okay, alive? Tell me!"
Shuffling on the other end, "Dr. Lopez, as I stated before, Ms. Lopez is currently undergoing surgery and the extent of her injuries cannot be determined at the moment. Although, when she was emitted into the hospital, it was clear she had a severe concussion, major blows to her ribcage, and two broken legs, and for the moment our doctors are doing their best to make sure your daughter will pull through."
Carlos is unable to reply immediately. His vision's slowly becoming blurred by the tears forming in the corner of his eyes.
His daughter. His Santana. "I-I'll call you back, sir. I just..."
"I understand. I'll give you sometime. I'm sorry for this turn of events." He hangs up, leaving Carlos to the deafening silence of the room.
He wants to run, wants to escape this town and go to his daughter, to make sure shes okay, something he hadn't had the guts to do in years.
The tears fall freely onto his desk, soaking files and medical papers that suddenly seem so irrelevant. An anguish cry passes his lips and he cries harder than ever before.
"Dr. Lopez?" A faint knock interrupts his hysteria.
He wants to tell his assistant to leave him alone. But he knows what time it is. He knows what her next words will be.
"She needs you."
There were two instances where Carlos had found himself at a crossroad. The first being nearly forty years ago, where he had to choose between the love of his life and the woman his parents desired him to marry. The pain, grief, and anger he felt back then still haunt him today. The decision he made was the wrong one.
The second was also a wrong one.
The day his only daughter, only child, confessed her sexuality. It wasn't a shock to him considering his wife and him had their suspicions ever since a day at the Lopez lake house where Santana roomed with Brittany. But still, even after they had suspected such, her admission only proved to make the situation even more real. They lost contact with their college bound daughter for several years after arguing constantly at home.
The last time he saw her was at his wife's funeral five years ago.
Till this day, Carlos regrets loosing contact with his daughter. Deep down, he was never against any of her beliefs or ways. The only thing separating him and accepting her was his reputation in the town of Lima. He used to believe maintaining his status as the well-respected, Christian, neurosurgeon was far more important than the well-being of his family.
He thinks he'll never be deserving of her forgiveness, and because of that, he avoided calling her and speaking to her.
Until now that is.
"She says she figured out her next wish," the nurse he's following states with a slight smile in her voice. "She's too excited to see you and tell you."
He only grunts in response, wiping his sweaty palms against his coat. When did it get so hot in here?
They draw closer to the room and suddenly he doesn't think he can go in there. He doesn't think he can go in there knowing what he knows and what she would want to know. But he couldn't place this burden on her, not now. Not when he was having such a hard time with the situation himself, accepting the fact that his daughter is thousands of miles away, under a knife.
The nurse opens the door slowly but not before knocking. A small 'here' sounds through the door, and they make their way in.
The woman is laying on the bed with a remote at hand, the light of a TV Show illuminating her delicate face in the dark room.
"Brittany, didn't we tell you too much TV is unhealthy?" The nurse makes her way around the bed and snatches the remote away from her patient's hands. She turns the bed light on as Carlos does the same with the room light.
"Sorry, Nurse Linda." Brittany replies sheepishly, "You know I really love that show, plus it's a marathon and I couldn't miss it!"
The nurse only gives her a reprimanding look before going back to fluffing the pillows behind her head. Brittany glances over to Carlos and her expression changes instantly.
"Carlos!" She exclaims, "I think I know what I want." Her eyes follow him as he takes a seat to her right.
He prays his expression doesn't give anything away, because Brittany is particularly perceptive when it came to people and emotions. "And what is that, Brittany?"
"Dino Nuggets."
Despite everything that occurred recently, his face breaks into a tiny smile, "What brought this on?"
She shrugs, "I always had them back in the day. I think Costco sells them. Anyway, I'm really craving them."
"You do know we have chicken nuggets down at the cafeteria?" The nurse adds in.
"Are they dino shaped?"
"Well, no-"
"Then they're not the right kind." Carlos chuckles slightly, patting the girl's arm.
"Very well, Brittany. Dino Nuggets it is." He stands up and chances another look at her. Their eyes meet for the first time since he entered. Her expression slightly falls at something.
Crap, she's onto him.
"Is everything okay, doctor?"
At that moment, he realizes he is at his third crossroad. He feels as though a heavy weight has settled amongst his shoulders.
But unlike the last two, Carlos doesn't have the slightest clue as to what the right or wrong approach is. Should he tell Brittany about Santana's accident? Maybe not now, but in the near future, once he understands the extent of his daughters injuries? Doesn't Brittany have the right to know her childhood friend and lover, is in the hospital?
Then again, didn't Santana?
Brittany gazes at him through his inner turmoil, scrutinizing him in a way that only Brittany could. Slowly, she nods her head, "It's okay, Mr. Lopez. You don't have to say anything yet if you don't want to."
She thinks it's bad news regarding her condition, he realizes with a pang. It's typical of Brittany to be so understanding, though. Never pressuring anyone, always knowing how to handle herself around people.
He thinks understands how his daughter fell in love with her so easily.
With a nod he exits quickly, not allowing her to further see him in this state. He thinks he could cry any second now, again.
Eventually, he ends up back at square one, in his office, phone pressed to his ear as the machine for UCLA Medical Center picks up. He orders to speak in person with the doctor in charge of his daughter.
"This is Dr. Robinson."
They exchange information on his daughters condition. Unconscious. Not responsive. Unknown damage to her head. Casts around both her legs. Ribs damaged. Bruises all around her body.
Carlos has never received worse news.
"I-I have a request, I mean an order-" He controls his shaky voice. He needs to take the upper hand, he needs to make the right choice for once in his life.
After several seconds, "What is that, sir?"
Inhaling a much needed breath, he speaks.
"I need you to transport Santana to my hospital as soon as possible."