A/N: So who watched on Tuesday? Huh? Huh? Well, I did! And, yeah… I didn't like it. So that's all the excited you're going to get out of me about it. I'm just dying for next week though!
Anyways, yeah… I went MIA again, didn't I? I'm really sorry. I kind of detoured from the original plan last chapter, and sequentially got completely lost, with no idea what was supposed to happen next, and people kept pointing out holes I'd (unintentionally) left, so I felt like I had to fix those, and all the others minor mistakes I made, so everything just kind of… stopped. But I got some super awesome advice, and made a new plan after this chapter, so now I'm back! I'm kind of winging it, which is fun in a really stressful way, so if the next few chapters are choppy, that's why, but, at least I'm posting something again, right? (Hint: the answer is "right!")
Chapter Fourteen:
Puck was the first to visit Quinn. Finn had tried to convince him to just go home, and Puck had, in turn, convinced Finn that he would. It was pathetic, really. Serious, who did Finn think he was talking to? Puck didn't take orders from anybody. So, as soon as he was out of sight of the Hummel homestead after dropping Rachel, Finn, and Kurt back off at their houses after all of the action died down, he turned around and headed in the opposite direction towards the hospital.
The hospital was generally a good twenty minute drive to the other side of the city, but he had no qualms about breaking the speed limit, and there was very little traffic, so he made it in just over half the time. Leaving his truck at the top of the visitor's parking garage, he took the winding staircase, two at a time, to the bottom and walked through the automatic sliding emergency room entrance.
He hated hospitals- like really hated them. They were too bright, too cold, always busy, and always reeked of the very distinct stench of sick people and too much sterilizer. His sister used to get chronic ear infections when she was a baby, and sometimes it was pretty serious, so he'd actually spent a fair amount of time sitting around in waiting rooms. But, now, he made it a point to not visit whenever possible, the only exception had been Beth- but she was his daughter, he had to make an exception. He didn't even go when his Grandfather had been admitted for two weeks, he'd received hell for it, sure, but he didn't cave. That's how much he hated it. Plus, the old man pulled through just fine, no big deal.
Once he found out that Quinn, still 16, was being roomed in the pediatric wing up on the fourth floor, he almost gave up and went home. He knew there was no way he would be able to sneak passed those stuffy nurses unnoticed, if they were anything like they had been all those years back. Sighing, he decided to wait, and stepped outside, pulling his phone from his pocket. There was one other person he could check up on to quell his nerves that had bundled up over the last few hours. The doctor that passed him on his way into work jumped and gave him a frightened look when Puck suddenly started sputtering curses when he was greeted with a pre-recorded message. He tried Santana's number once more, and then switched to Brittany's, neither answered.
Resigning much more quietly to the second voice-message, he trudged back inside with his hands shoved in his pockets. The doctor from earlier stared at him his entire way to the elevator on the opposite side of the room.
He pulled all the stops out at the nurse's station on the fourth floor. He did the whole "she's my sister" card, and laid it on pretty thick too, turning on the waterworks and everything. When that didn't work, he turned to shameless flirting, which usually got him anything he wanted, but the woman on duty only gave him a bored glance up from her paperwork and then told him to go home and come back during normal visiting hours, which didn't start until 8am. Puck, naturally, couldn't wait that long, and made a big show of marching off in a huff, heading in the direction of the elevator before veering off down one of the side hallways.
Wandering around for a while, he made it through two of the four wings on the floor, and had still yet to find Quinn. However, spotting Judy Fabray walking quietly out of a room at the end of the hall, had him doubling back to hide around a corner until the echo of her shoes faded off into the night and he was sure that she was gone. Needless to say, that woman still hated his guts. Quinn was peacefully asleep, sprawled out across the entire hospital bed and draped in three comforters when he first stepped into her room at the end of the last corridor. She stayed that way for three more hours, Puck didn't once leave.
…
Brittany made sure to put her phone on silent, and not vibrate, before she crawled into bed, so she knew it wouldn't wake Santana up. But, that didn't mean that every time she got a call or a text, that it wouldn't light up to life, illuminating half of the small guest room from its tiny screen. When it happened the first time, she absolutely had no problem ignoring it, but after the seventh, and eighth, message she received, she was really considered climbing over her sleeping friend, just to see what was going on. But, Santana was curled so tightly against her side that she figured it'd be impossibly to do without waking her up anyway, and just decided to try and get some sleep. She was really tired.
She wasn't sure how long she'd actually been asleep, or if she'd even completely fallen asleep at all, because it only felt like seconds after closing her eyes when she felt Santana suddenly jerk and jumped away from her, gasping loudly for breath. Turning over slightly, to get a better look, her hands instinctively reached out for Santana, she frowned when Santana violently pulled away.
"Don't-wha-wh- oh," the sleep cleared from her eyes and she visibly relaxed at recognizing Brittany's, albeit worried, face, leaning back against her pillow, smiling slightly, "it's you."
"Of course it's me, silly," Brittany grinned in response, settling down comfortably, "who else would it be?" she watched as Santana's face fell, and immediately tried to figure out what she had said wrong, coming up short of an answer.
Santana was quiet for a really long time, staring up at the dark ceiling, with Brittany just watching her, playing with the hem of her old tee-shirt. When she finally opened her mouth again, Brittany thought she was going to explain and waited expectantly. But, changing her mind, Santana decided to let out an exaggerated sigh, stretching her arms over her head before turning to look at Brittany with that semi-annoyed look she always worse to school, "what time is it?"
"I dunno," Brittany replied honestly with a slightly awkward, laying down, shrug from her shoulders, "my phone's over there, and I can't reach it," she gestured vaguely behind Santana, in the direction of the dresser pushed up against the wall.
Santana rolled back over again and looked around for a minute, finally spotting the little hink of plastic sitting, in what appeared to be, well within her reach at the other end of the dresser. She practically fell face first off the bed while trying to grab it without getting up. She glared at Brittany's stifled giggle. Rolling her eyes, but not saying anything, Santana flipped open the phone with practice ease, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "What the hell?" she muttered to herself.
Brittany scooted lower to place her head on Santana's shoulder, leaning in to see what was making her make such a funny face, "what's wrong?" she pressed.
"Puck's called you, like, twelve times," Brittany then realized she must have actually dozed off for a while then, her count had only been nine. "What the fuck's his issue, doesn't he know it's like five in the fucking morning? Does he always call you this early?
"Puck doesn't usually call me," Brittany explained through a yawn, "he's probably just worried," she offered thoughtfully. Santana didn't reply to that at first. She just set the phone down on the dresser again and rolled back over, curling back into Brittany's side, burying her face against her warm body, and lacing their fingers together.
"Well, he needs to man the hell up," she mumbled against Brittany's skin, "we're fine."
Brittany didn't have to say she didn't believe her, she knew.
…
Quinn had been awake for all of fifteen minutes, had been checked on by the doctors, hobbled to the bathroom, and was already yelling at him. As much yelling a she could do anyway, she sounded like a chain smoker.
"You guys really thought that?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, her paper gown crinkling loudly. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance.
"Well, yeah," he shrugged, trying to placate her, the doctor specifically told him that is he got her worked up he'd be kicked out and not allowed back until she was released. "You were gone for two weeks," he explained, "and the police said there was no sign of foul play. Plus, nobody would really blame you for wanting to get away for a little bit."
"But you," her voice cracked and she frowned, "you didn't think it was a bit strange I didn't say anything to anyone before supposedly running away?"
Puck shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, desperately wishing she'd fall back asleep soon, he'd seen that she was fine, he could go home happy now. "I thought Mercedes was lying about not knowing where you were," he admitted after another minute of her glaring at him, "she was acting weird, all," he wiggled his fingers, "evasive."
"She was probably worried," Quinn snapped, "unlike you, apparently."
"Hey, I was worried!" he replied angrily, it wasn't his fucking fault, after all, "the whole club was a mess for days, nobody knew what to do, where you went, even Berry shut her trap for a while." She looked genuinely surprised at this news, "but then, you know…" he shrugged his shoulders, looking away, ashamed, "no one figured you'd actually be kidnapped."
Quinn didn't respond at first, and just glared at him for a while, with his dejected puppy dog face. "Well," she huffed, "I'm happy to know someone called the police."
"That was your mom," he explained automatically.
"Oh, god," her face paled and she slapped a bandaged hand to her forehead, "but she was gone-" she tried to argue, Puck quickly adverting his eyes again gave it away and she couldn't control the rage bubbling inside of her, grabbing the closest thing to her throwing it at him, "no one was looking for me for a whole week?"
Puck jumped from his chair beside her bed, suddenly covered in whatever liquid was in her cup, it smelled sickeningly sweet, like juice, "We didn't know!"
Tears running down her face, she yelled for him to get out until her voice went sore and she dissolved into silent sobs. Puck stayed with her until Judy returned.