Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been getting pretty caught up with You Wanna Be The Badass? You Gotta Take Out The Badass at the moment :/ BUT Here's another chapter for you ^_^
Speaking of YWBTB?YGTOTB, if you haven't read it yet, please do! Let me know what you think about my first High School fic XD
Anyways, hope you enjoy this update :D
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Quinn stepped over the threshold and immediately felt conflicting emotions about the place. On the one hand, she was creeped out by the eerie quiet of the candle lit house but on the other, she was comforted by the cosiness of it. The short corridor straight ahead of her held three doors on the right, two on the left and one at the very end and lining the walls were large portraits of handsome men and pretty women. Underneath each portrait were small tables with candles and sepia-toned photographs of more of what Quinn assumed were the doctor's family members. In a few of the photographs she noticed the doctor himself and a small woman in a beautiful frilly dress, standing on an impressive bridge in front of an extravagant clock tower, their arms wrapped securely around one another and wide smiles adorning their faces.
As she examined each photo, transfixed, she slowly started walking further into depths of the corridor. The faint sounds of clinking metal and gentle humming gradually brought her back to being aware of her surroundings and the thrum of nerves settled low in her stomach as she followed the din, gulping loudly in an attempt to clear the ever growing lump in her throat.
She found herself in front of the second door on the left, shakily turning the handle and pushing it open.
The space in front of her was filled with shelves upon shelves of books. There was a dimpled leather sofa over by the large windows and two armchairs of the same upholstery in the center of the room, separated by a tall, shaded lamp and a little coffee table that was littered with newspapers and a pair of reading glasses.
The clinking and humming were coming from the back corner of the room where she saw the doctor standing over an ominous metal table, his back to her. He was blocking her view, but Quinn could still see Santana's body from her bare stomach to her toes and she was itching to know if she would make it out of this okay.
But at the same time, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
But she had to. So she took a deep breath and a step forward.
"If you have a weak stomach, please refrain from observing this procedure." Doctor Chang's calm voice stopped her, his eyes never straying from his work.
Quinn jumped a little, having not expected him to talk any time soon. She once again tried to swallow back the rock in her throat and ignored the sweat that coated her palms.
"I've seen enough gore in my life. There's no wound that could make my stomach turn."
She was surprised at the resolution behind her voice.
Doctor Chang nodded once over his shoulder, allowing her to join him.
Her feet were sluggish, dragged down by dread as she walked to stand at the opposite side of the operating table.
Her heart weighed heavy in her chest and she sniffled as she tried to hold back a tear.
The first thing she noticed was how relaxed her best friend's face was. Had her skin not been layered with a thin sheen of sweat, Santana's beautiful features would have given nothing away and one mightn't have thought she was unconscious against her will at all.
Quinn trailed her stinging eyes down her body, noticing for the first time the leather shackles holding Santana's wrists and ankles to the cool metal, restraining her should she wake up.
Quinn shuddered at the thought and watched the doctor's steady hands instead.
Santana's shirt had been cut off and now lay in ribbons, scattered around the wooden floorboards. The bare skin of her torso glinted with blood and sweat, streaks running down the gentle dips of her ribs and toned abdomen. Dr Chang was in the process of removing the bullet from her chest with a scary looking pair of tweezers and a long, thin metal stick he was using to poke flesh and innards out of the way. The wound at her neck was bandaged tightly to stem the blood flow but still some seeped through, contrasting starkly against the clean white of the cloth.
After some time, the quiet sound of wet squelching was interrupted by a dull click.
"Ah, hah! There you are, you little cretin!" Dr Chang cheered. He clenched his hand and pulled the tweezers up and out, holding the bullet securely as he shook his fist excitedly.
He turned to a shiny metal tray beside him that Quinn hadn't noticed before and dropped the round onto it carelessly before cleaning up the wound and dressing it firmly.
When he had finished that, he carefully turned Santana over onto her good shoulder and unwrapped the temporary bandaging.
"Hmm…" He stared hard, scrutinising every last inch of the area.
"What do you mean by 'Hmm'?" Quinn asked, worry coating her voice.
"The bullet went straight through her shoulder, I just need to check for some long term damage before I can do anything else."
She simply nodded silently as she watched him work.
"The morphine should help with the pain, but all we can really do now is wait, I'm afraid." He said as he dried his then clean hands on a spare rag in the opposite corner.
She made no move, nor sound to acknowledge him as she stared down at her lifelong friend a little longer. Lifting her hand, she lightly ran the tips of her fingers against the cool skin of Santana's arm, wrist to elbow, elbow to wrist, repeatedly.
She sniffled as she watched her closed eyelids, silently hoping, praying for them to open, for dark chocolate eyes to find her again.
A single tear escaped and she released a shaky breath.
"Fuck, San, stay alive… please… You're my best friend. I need you to be okay. Can you do that for me?"
When she got no reply, her head fell back and she stared up at the ceiling, inhaling deeply to try to steady her heart.
She sobbed once and squeezed Santana's hand, looking back to her once more.
"I love you, you know? You're the sister I've always had but never realised it. I would say you're the sister I always wished for, but that would be a lie. I've never wished for a sister, but now I realise that's because I've always had you. Be alive."
She squeezed her hand once again and slunk out from behind the table, heading to follow wherever the doctor had gone.
With one last look, Quinn quietly shut the door behind her.
She found herself alone in the dim corridor and took a moment to compose herself, gently wiping away the moisture on her face and breathing deeply still.
She saw light pouring through the cracks of the doorframe at the end of the hall and heard a different clinking coming through the wood. She tilted her head as she followed the sound and discovered a brightly lit kitchen.
Sam was sitting at the dining table, watching interestedly as a woman who Quinn assumed to be Dr Chang's wife tried to encourage a shaking Brittany to take a biscuit and a mug of hot tea in the armchair in the corner of the room.
Quinn stood awkwardly in the doorway, not quite sure of what to do next.
"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?"
She looked to the far end of the kitchen and saw the doctor standing there, holding a steaming kettle. All she could bring herself to do was nod silently.
Once he'd handed her her mug, he stuck his hand out to her.
"I'm terribly sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet! My name is Dr. Michael Chang and this," he reached over to pull the woman into a tight sideways hug. "is my beautiful wife, Tina!"
He grinned and ducked his face down quickly to place a chaste kiss upon her cheek.
Quinn tried to smile, really, she did. But her body just didn't seem to want to co-operate. Or her mind just didn't want to compute. She felt exhausted and terrified and concerned and upset and distraught… she felt a whole plethora of emotions and none were nice.
"Oh, please, have a seat, dear." The woman, Tina urged. Her dark eyes were soothing and sincere and Quinn found herself letting this woman guide her with her hand pressed to the small of her back, towards the table with Sam.
She sank heavily into her chair and stared blankly at the grains in the wood of the table. She could feel her body swaying slightly but she just couldn't bring herself to care.
She faintly heard whimpering and lifted her head to see Brittany curled up on the armchair, hugging her knees and rocking slightly as silent tears continued to pour down her face and she stared at the wall.
Quinn worried for Brittany about as much as she worried for San, but right then she just didn't know what she could do.
She blinked and turned back to memorising the grain of the table, the steam of her untouched tea swirling in her line of sight, blurring the lines a little.
She could hear the faint murmur of the conversation that Mike, Tina and Sam were having, but couldn't find the energy to make the effort to discern the words.
Her swaying got faster little by little and tiny little black dots began to appear before her eyes.
Her lips quirked up at one corner and she sighed.
The spots grew and multiplied until there were only little pinpricks of light reaching her.
And finally, everything went black.
Poor Quinn :( What do you think? Next chapter will most likely be back to Britt's POV, so if you were missing that, stay tuned :)
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