The search and rescue guys had been impressed with their ability to survive. They'd hauled Puck up to the waiting helicopter in a basket, the boy still unable to move very far. Santana and Rachel waited below for their turn, tears of relief in both their eyes. If their hands were clasped, neither mentioned it.
As they lowered the basket again, Santana turned towards the smaller brunette and cupped her face gently. She noticed the heat under Rachel's skin, the bags under Rachel's eyes, and the sharpness of her cheekbones. Despite the fact that it had only been 5 days since the crash and they'd had food, the pounds had seemed to melt off Rachel's body
"When we get back and after you get that fucking arm looked at and taken care of, you and I are gonna have us a chat!" Rachel looked alarmed. "Rach," Santana started, but the S&R guy was back, so she ushered Rachel into the basket, not able to stand the thought of Rachel waiting down here alone. Rachel went up, eyes locked on Santana the entire time.
Once Santana was on board, the helicopter took off, headed for a hospital in Rio, which was the closest city to their current location. Santana watched the medic on board look at first Puck, the Rachel. The guy actually swore when he saw her arm. He said something into his microphone, and it felt like the helicopter picked up speed. She met Puck's gaze, saw the same emotion in his eyes. Concern.
What had Berry done to herself?
Once in the Rio hospital, the three of them were split up. As soon as the doctor stitched up her cuts (and fuck, pain killers were awesome) she was demanding to see Rachel. Demanding to know if anyone else had been rescued. But mostly, demanding to see Rachel. The doctor avoided her questions, instead he showed her to a waiting room.
A waiting room full of the Glee club and more importantly, her family. She cried out and ran into her Papi's arms. They closed around her tightly. For the first time in almost 5 days, she felt safe. She heard him murmuring in Spanish, felt her mother pressed against her back, and for the first time since the plane crashed, let herself cry.
When she was all cried out, she raised her head and stepped back from her father. He kept a tight grip on her hand. She looked around the room noticing who was here and who wasn't. Quinn; looking pale but unharmed. Finn, one arm in a sling. Sam, Mercedes, Artie, Mike and Tina; all with bumps and bruises but otherwise fine. She saw Puck's mom, and who she could only assume where Rachel's dads. But...
"Where's Brittany?" she asked, looking to her mom and dad. Her Papi flinched. "Papi? Where's Brittany? And Mr. Shue?" She began to panic. "Where's Brittany?"
"Sani, sweetheart, calm down. Shhhh. Brittany hit her head during the crash. She hasn't woken up yet."Santana started to cry. Not her beautiful, bubbly Brittany. "Shhh. The doctor's are confident she'll be ok. She's just got some swelling. When it goes down, she'll wake up. They've flown her back home so her family can be there for her. Shhh now." Big hands rubbed her back, comforting her. But what about Mr. Shue?
"And Mr. Shue?" She asked hesitating. Maybe she didn't want to know.
"He's in the other room, talking to your principle!" Santana nearly cried again, in relief. Everyone had made it! She couldn't believe it. A plane had fucking crashed, and her entire family, the entire Glee club had made it. Un-fucking-believable! But thank God!
A crowd of doctors swept into the room. Mrs. Puckerman and the Misters Berry stood up anxiously. The stood in a huddle. Santana saw Mrs. Puckerman sit down heavily, relief evident in her every pore. The Berry's however, looked more and more concerned. Santana frowned. She'd been with Rachel not even an hour ago, the tiny diva was fine. She had to be fine.
She pulled away from her father and approached the group. She heard the words "infection" "bone marrow" "surgery needed" and "risky" before she'd fully reached them.
"Rachel's ok, right?" No one answered her, but the Berry's turned towards her. "Rachel? She has to be ok. I just saw her. She's ok right? Will someone answer me? She's ok, isn't she?" Santana was shaking one of the doctors by her lab coat at the end of her questions. "Isn't she?" She screamed. She felt hands pulling her away, and she struggled as much as her weary body would let her. Adrenaline coursed through her. "She has to be. Rachel has to be!" Her dad turned her, pressing her face into his shoulder, trying to calm his hysterical daughter.
"Santana? Your Santana, right?" One of Rachel's dads's asked the smaller of the two. She nodded. He smiled, which was unexpected to say the least. "Our Rachel is always talking about you." Santana frowned in confusion, because he was still smiling at her. "About how talented you are, as a singer and a cheerleader. How strong you are. It's nice to have a face to put to the name we hear a million times a day." Santana choked back the tears that wanted to start up again. Rachel said that...about her? About the girl who systematically destroyed Rachel, everyday. The girl who called her "Man-hands" and "Treasure trail"? Well, fuck. Rachel Berry was a saint. That was all there was to it.
"Is she...is she ok?" She asked her voice small and so unlike her. She swallowed. "She was okay in the helicopter. So she has to be ok, right?" She looked to the Fathers Berry for reassurance. The smaller one paled, the taller, black father swallowing hard.
"No, sweetheart, she isn't. Apparently, her left arm was broke in four places, and bone marrow leaked into her bloodstream, which apparently causes a very bad infection, which got into Rachel's lungs. She's very sick. The doctor's need to repair her arm, which they say is so damaged, she'll need a metal bar inserted. They're also going to give her antibiotics, but they don't know if the infection will respond. She may have been sick too long." The shorter Mr. Berry looked away, tears glimmering in his eyes as the other man finished his description. "She over-exerted herself, and it wore down her system. They don't know if she'll pull through."
Those words echoed through Santana's head. First the news about Brittany; now Rachel. Santana fell down into a chair and out her head in her hands. She'd come to the very painful realization that her feelings for Rachel went beyond lust those 3 days Rachel had avoided her back at the crash site. This, what she felt now, was agonizing. Love and guilt and pain and fear, all tangled up inside her body.
If only she'd been stronger. She'd thought Rachel was okay. She knew her arm had been injured, but Rachel never indicated it was that bad. She should have done something. She should have made the smaller girl rest more. The 'should have's' and 'what if's' circled around and around in her head. They continued to torment her, as they sat in that little room and waited to hear any news about Rachel's surgery. Her father sat on one side of her, her hand gripping his. Her mother sat on her father's other side, a hand on top of their entwined hands. Other her other side, she gripped the smaller Mr. Berry's hand just as tightly.
