Quinn woke up and rolled over to glance into Rachel's deep brown eyes. "Hey," Rachel said softly, reaching out to brush Quinn's hair from her sweaty forehead.
"Hey," Quinn whispered back.
"What's the plan here Quinn? You know Santana has already made you a doctor's appointment, everything is about to come out, what's the game plan?"
"I don't want to go to the doctor," Quinn said with a slight whimper in her voice.
Rachel smirked, "I think that ship has sailed. So how are we moving forward?"
Quinn rolled over onto her back and sighed up at the ceiling. "I'm not sure."
"You'd better start thinking," Rachel said, rolling over as well.
"Do you think she's pregnant?" Santana asked Brittany.
"No." Brittany said quickly, "I mean unless there is something, I don't know about you."
Santana frowned at her friend, "She's been throwing up lately. When the fever spiked, I just assumed that it was a precursor to her being sick."
"She's not pregnant, San." Brittany told her, throwing some of her rice at her, trying to break her friend's mood.
"Did you just throw food at me?" Santana asked incredulously.
"Are you eating in front of the tv in the living room while Quinn is sick in bed?" Brittany asked, mocking her friend's scandalized voice.
Santana opened her mouth to respond when she saw Rachel walk up and stand beside the couch. "I think that Quinn wants to talk to you."
Rachel sat down in the seat that Santana had just vacated. Brittany pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, "Long day, huh?"
"Are you mad at me?" Rachel asked in a soft voice.
Brittany gently tugged on her ponytail to get her to look up. "No, why would I be? I know this day has been stressful for you."
"Secrets, Secrets are no fun…" Rachel started, smiling for the first time in what felt like days.
Brittany smirked, "Quinn needs someone to talk to sometimes. Do you wanna eat in front of the TV?"
"Can we do it in bed?" Rachel asked softly.
"Yes, are you starving now?" She asked, standing and pulling Rachel to stand too.
"Not starving." Rachel said, instantly leaning into her.
"Wanna have a bath with me first?"
"Oh, that sounds amazing and like a lot of work."
Brittany laughed, "I'll run the bath."
"And I can rest in bed?"
"Yes, but don't fall asleep!" Brittany mock scolded.
Santana knocked on her door as she walked in so that she didn't startle Quinn. "Hey," Quinn whispered.
"Hey," Santana said walking over to her bed. She crawled in but didn't lay down. Instead she pulled Quinn up a little so that her head rested in Santana's lap. She gently started stroking Quinn's head, waiting for the girl to start talking.
"I haven't been totally honest with you lately." Quinn said almost so soft that San didn't hear. While every ounce of Santana wanted to say something sarcastic, she forced herself to stay quiet, and wait. "You're gonna be really angry."
Santana nodded, "Maybe, but we will get through it."
Quinn leaned her head further into Santana's touch. "I don't know what my problem is…"
Santana kept quiet as she carded her hands through the soft blonde hair.
"I've been throwing up." Quinn said.
"I know, Quinn, you're sick." Santana said obtusely.
"S, I've been throwing up…after I eat." Quinn said letting the statement hang in the air.
"I know Quinn," Santana started aggressively.
It was Quinn's turn to wait silently as her girlfriend pieced what she was saying together.
"That's the big deal? That you've been throwing up?" Santana asked.
"After I eat." Quinn added.
"After you eat." Santana said back. Quinn felt her girlfriend's hand still and knew that it had clicked. "Like on purpose?"
"Yes." Quinn said.
"Why it hasn't been effective. You weigh in for me once a week." Santana told her.
"Yeah, you don't think it's crazy how little my weight fluctuates?" Quinn asked.
"How are you getting it by me?"
"Change in my pockets." Quinn said.
"You've been lying?" Santana asked. "For how long?"
"I don't know when did you start deciding what I eat?" Quinn asked back.
"This is a big deal, Quinn." Santana said, sitting up a little straighter.
"I Know." Quinn said.
San tapped Quinn on the head, "No, sit up. I wanna see your face."
Quinn sat up slowly and looked at her girlfriend, who looked totally broken. "I'm sorry."
"I don't think I understand." Santana said slowly.
Quinn frowned. "I think the issue is that you do."
"You love your teeth!" Santana blurted out.
Quinn jumped back at the vehemence of the statement and the volume level. "That's not untrue." She said confused.
"You will ruin them." Santana told her.
Quinn nodded sagely. "I love being a flyer more."
Santana grimaced, she wished Quinn had said anything else. She pushed down the bile that rose in her own throat as she thought about the conversation she was about to have. "Let's go weigh you."
"No." Quinn said quickly. She already knew what the number would say, 101 and that would make Santana livid.
Santana stood up, "Let's go."
"No, Santana. I don't think that will help either of us." Quinn said firmly.
"I will peel the skin off of your ass if you don't stand up and go into the bathroom right now!" Santana growled.
Quinn knew when it was too stupid to press her luck and slowly stood from the bed. "I promise this isn't gonna help either of us."
"Move Fabray." Santana growled.
Quinn walked into the master bath and waited for Santana. Santana followed her in, "how are you checking your weight?"
Quinn was leaning against the sink as Santana unlocked the cabinet that had the scale in it. "I bought one. It's in my office at school."
"So, there isn't even a point in locking this up?" San asked. Quinn shrugged. "You know I hate that, and you are on such thin ice…"
"I really tried S." Quinn told her stepping on the scale. 99.8 Throwing up must have taken its toll. Quinn tried hard to keep the satisfied look off her face.
"Stop smirking, that's not a good number Quinn!" Santana shouted.
There was a knock on the bedroom door. "Come in," Quinn called.
"Get the fuck out!" Santana roared.
Brittany poked her head around the door and peeked into the master bathroom. "You guys okay?"
"Yes, go away." Santana snapped.
Brittany looked behind Santana to Quinn shaking her head. "Maybe you guys should come out here and take a break. Quinn, do you want some dinner?"
Quinn glanced at Santana to see how she was responding to Brittany's presence. "She will eat when we finish talking."
"Quinn?" Britt asked.
"I'm good, Britt, thanks." Quinn whispered.
Brittany nodded and backed out of the door, intentionally leaving it cracked.
Santana sighed. "You have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. I think that we can get together an idea of the situation then."
"Okay," Quinn whispered.
Santana took in her girlfriends' appearance and her frown deepened. How in the hell did she miss this? "Are you tired, Q?"
"Yes." Quinn's voice wasn't raising above a whisper, and she was leaning against the sink trying to take up as little room as possible.
"We need to be at the doctor's office by nine, so you can sleep in a little." Santana told her, going through the mental checklist of things to do.
"Yes ma'am. Are you going to spank me?"
Santana sighed; she knew that she had to say the words that had been bouncing around her head for the last ten minutes. "Come sit with me on the bed."
"Uh oh." Quinn said, "That doesn't sound good."
"No uh oh, just come sit." Santana told her. She sat on the bed and pulled Quinn down to sit in front of her. She really needed all of the courage that she had to have this conversation. "There is nothing in this world that you should love more than your health, Quinn."
"I know…" Quinn whispered.
"I know that in theory you know that, but you aren't acting on it. So, I think it's best that you quit the cheerios." Santana said, waiting for what she knew would be the tantrum of a lifetime.
"What?" Quinn asked, frowning.
"If you love the cheerios more than your health, it has to go." Santana told her seriously.
"I'm not quitting the Cheerios, S." Quinn said firmly.
"You are going to do whatever is best for your health." Santana told her firmly.
"Well that's not it." Quinn told her, standing from the bed.
"I didn't say get up, sit back down. We are still talking." Santana said firmly.
"No, I'm gonna sleep on the couch." Quinn said firmly.
"The hell you are! Get back here now!" Santana roared, losing complete control.
Quinn turned around in the doorway, "San, I don't think either of us is in the right space to have this conversation."
"Well you should have thought about that before you started lying and throwing up!"
Tears filled Quinn's eyes, "I'm trying, S!"
"Really? Because vomiting feels an awful lot like quitting to me."
"I'm sorry you feel that way." Quinn said before storming down the hall.
Brittany appeared a second later, lingering in the doorway. Santana, who had thrown herself back on the bed moved her arm from over her eyes so that she could see the girl. "So, that was rough."
Santana chucked a pillow at her friend. Britt picked it up off the floor and walked over to her friends' bed and sat next to her. "What else can I do here Britt?"
"The season is almost over."
"Yeah, but if she dies it isn't going to matter if we win nationals." S said coolly.
"That's true, but maybe there is a way she can see that without you yelling and cussing."
Santana sighed, "I've never been this scared before."
"Did you tell her that?"
"No, but I'm terrified I'm going to lose her. What would I even do?"
"Well you haven't lost her yet to anything but the couch." Britt joked.
"Yeah, part of me wants to drag her back in here by her hair."
"I think it's best to let her be for the night." Britt said, standing to go back to her own girl.
"Yeah, but then what tomorrow when she wants to go to practice?"
"Then you fight that battle then." Britt said, "She knows you love her."
"Thanks," Santana sighed.
After a couple hours of fitful sleep, Santana woke up to the bed moving. She opened her eyes to see Quinn staring down at her. "Hey Baby, come 'ere."
Quinn quickly feel into Santana's arms and started crying. "I'm sorry this got so bad."
"Shh…we will figure it out mi amour, I promise you. Please don't cry, it's breaking my heart." Santana whispered into her girls blonde hair.
"I'm so sorry San." Quinn sobbed.
"Shh…it will be okay…"
"I can't quit the cheerios though…"
"Lucy Quinn Fabray…"
"Can't we just see what the doctor says? If he says it's okay to stay on the team and I follow all of his orders, can I stay on then?" Quinn asked, desperate.
"I don't know, you've had an honesty issue lately. How can I trust that you are following his orders?" Santana asked.
That stabbed Quinn in the heart. "We can do naked weigh ins…"
"You better believe that was already non-negotiable." Santana grouched.
"And…I just promise…"
"You promised this food thing wouldn't be an issue, and that you were doing fine with the new eating routine. Both times you lied."
"I didn't mean too…"
"And I'm sure you wouldn't mean to when you lied about following the doctor's orders…" Santana said leaving it hanging.
"Then give me the worst consequence you can think of for lying…" Quinn said.
"I did, I said you had to quit the cheerios…" Santana told her.
"No, even worse than that…" Quinn tried.
"At this point I have no idea what would be worse than that."
"Go back to spanking me every day…" Quinn said, "In the morning as a reminder to keep on track with food…" Santana just waited as her girl worked through what was in her head. "And…and I'm grounded, no leaving the house and no technology when I'm home until my weight is up…" When Santana still didn't speak, Quinn bit her lip, "I'll do whatever the doctor says and write an essay on eating disorders. I will only workout at practice, please SAN!"
Santana pulled her girl as close as she would go to her body, "I don't think any of that will drive the point home as well as you quitting the cheerios. Your health isn't something I will ever fuck with."
"Please San, please don't make me quit!" Quinn sobbed into Santana's chest.
The Latina held her girl and whispered over and over that it would be okay, she had her and Quinn was going to survive without cheer. She whispered until the blonde fell asleep and prayed to God that the doctor would have some magical cure that would fix Quinn and let her do cheer.
