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Blocking Brainwaves: THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUGGESTION. I AM, RIGHT NOW, TAKING CARE OF THAT CHAPTER :D

This chapter is named: "Asthma"; yeah, a little obvious. ENJOY!

Disclaimer: Do NOT own anything!


2:

Brittany was in her office, in her dance academy, that afternoon, when she received a phone call. It was Mr. Davies, Belle's principal. Apparently, her daughter had been missing classes and, to make it all a hundred times worse, she had gone to the hospital. Belle was asthmatic and smoking was extremely dangerous for asthmatic people.

She was frantic. She left her work right away and, on the way to the car, she called Santana.

"B, you know I'm in a meeting." Santana spoke quietly.

"I'm sorry, San. It's Belle."

"What's wrong?"

"She's in the hospital."

"What? Is she ok?"

"Baby, calm down. According to Principal Davies, she was missing class and she was smoking and something happened. She had an attack."

"What the hell? What was she thinking?"

"When will you able to meet us?"

"Right now! I'm leaving now!"

"San, it's an important meeting. Belle's ok, and I'm going to see her. Finish the meeting and then meet us."

"I don't know, Brit…"

"Don't worry, baby. I'll call you if anything changes."

"Are you sure?"

Brittany managed to convince her wife and almost flew to the hospital.

"May I help you?" The receptionist asked as Brittany ran into the front desk.

"My daughter. Belle Pierce. She's been admitted here about half an hour ago. Asthma attack!"

"Room 315."

The usually polite woman didn't even remember to thank the woman. She just wanted to lay her eyes on her daughter.

She knew she had found the room when she saw one of Belle's best friends leaning against the wall, next to the door, talking on his phone. He hung up when he saw Brittany.

"Hey, Mrs. Pierce."

"Hi, Jimmy." She managed to smile at the boy she had known since her daughter was 5, about 10 years ago. "And Belle?" Brittany asked.

"We're so sorry, Mrs. P. We didn't know…"

"What you two did is very serious, Jimmy." She shook her head. The 15-year-old nodded.

She sent him a brief smile and walked into the bedroom.

Belle was lying on the bed, dressed in hospital garments, and with an oxygen mask on her face and a needle sticking on her left arm. Brittany's chest tightened at the sight of her daughter.

"Hi, beautiful. How're you feeling?"

Brittany saw her daughter shrug her shoulders. She also noticed how Belle looked quickly behind her, at the corridor, and then averted her eyes.

"She's taking a little while longer to get here. She's in a meeting." Brittany answered a non-asked question.

"Is she… Are you mad?" Belle stuttered a little as she removed the mask to talk. Brittany shushed her and calmed her down.

"Why don't you rest for a while, beautiful? Put on the mask." She ordered as she saw Belle starting to tear the mask from her face again.

"I'm sorry" Her daughter spoke through the device.

"I know you are, I know." She cooed and sat next to her baby girl, running her fingers through her silky curls, like she used to do for so many nights, while tucking Belle in. "Rest, beautiful."

Brittany saw Belle's big blue eyes slip until they closed. The blonde woman felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders: she was here with Belle, and her daughter was safe, and soon San would be joining them and they'd be together, fending for their daughter's health.

Santana arrived not long after Belle fell asleep. Her wife didn't speak. She sat on the other side of the bed, grabbed Brittany's hand that wasn't stroking Belle's hair and sighed. Then, she kissed their daughter's forehead and looked up at Brittany.

"She's ok. Just resting." She smiled. Both her wife and daughter were masters at asking non-questions, and she was a mater at answering and reassuring them.

She saw how worried Santana's eyes were, and she knew that despite the other woman's gentleness at the moment, they'd have to have a serious conversation with Belle. This was no life for their daughter.

"¿Dónde demonios tenías tu cabeza, Belle?" Santana whispered against her daughter's head. Brittany knew her wife tended to speak Spanish when something disturbed her.

"Ella ahora está bien, querida." Brittany said with admitted difficulty.

Many years ago, even before Belle was born, she tried to learn her wife's other mother tongue. It wasn't easy, but she managed.

Santana looked up and smiled.

"Os amo."


Roughly translated:

"¿Dónde demonios tenías tu cabeza, Belle?" - What the hell were you thinking, Belle?

"Ella ahora está bien, querida." - She's ok now, baby.

"Os amo." - I love you (two).