Note: First, thank you for the reviews/follows/favorites! And of course the sweet PM's. I apologize, I know it's been a while but [insert excuse here].

Well, phew, now that I finally got that off my chest, without further ado the next chapter! Quick recap: last chapter Quinn was about to tell her mother about what's been going down.

I hope you enjoy.


Silence.

It struck her every time she entered the room. Every time Santana laid eyes on her mother she somehow still expected her to say something. A simple hi would've been enough, yet even that seemed to be too much to ask for. She would never get used to it. That would mean she was giving up. Santana Lopez was a lot of things, but she wasn't one to give up. Not without a fight, anyway. Fortunately that's a trait she and her mother both shared. Knowing this was enough to keep her hopes up, for now.

With a sigh, she sat down at her mother's bedside. Her arms folded, her eyes staring into what seemed to be oblivion. She wondered how Quinn was doing. Surely Judy would've been excited to see Quinn, but Santana wasn't sure how the woman would handle the news. Her daughter was dropping out of college. An Ivy League college. Any normal parent would scold their child for wasting such an amazing opportunity. Aside from that, Quinn has had a rich history of letting guys ruin her life. Santana would know, as she used to be the one rubbing it in. Hell, it earned her a slap in the face. Several times. She lifted her hand to touch her cheek, as if she could still feel Quinn's handprint hot on her face. A quiet chuckle then escaped her. She couldn't help but feel yet again surprised at the fact that she ended up falling for the girl.

Still, maybe in some way she has always known. Despite their differences, there had always been a mutual respect for each other, a quiet understanding. And if she would've been completely honest, even Santana had always known that Quinn was a hot piece of ass.

After a while, Santana reached into her bag to grab her phone. There were two messages, both from Puck, but the only thing that caught her eye was the time. It was 21:09. Quinn had been gone all day, and she still hadn't heard anything from her.

She had to admit she was a little worried. She wondered if this is what Quinn felt like every time Santana went MIA. She tried calling. She dialed the number and waited for Quinn to pick up. When someone finally answered Santana sighed in relief.

"Hi this is Quinn,"

"Quinn, I'm so glad –"

"I can't take your call right now but if you leave a message I'll call you back as soon as possible."

Her shoulders slumped down in disappointment. She decided to leave a message.

"Hey it's me. I just wanted to know if you were alright. I haven't heard anything from you in a while. I kind of miss you. Just… let me know if you're okay. Whatever your mom said to you, remember I'm on your side."

With that she hung up the phone. She continued to think about Quinn. Maybe she had her own battle to fight right now. Santana wondered if she'd told Judy about their relationship… Or whatever the hell it was. Quinn's mom was a kind woman – without that bastard of an (ex) husband beside her that is – but could she really handle her daughter being with another girl? Add teen pregnancy, it must've been her worst nightmare. The more Santana thought about it, the more she hoped Quinn was okay. Finally she decided to check Puck's messages.

19:45 PUCK: I'll be there in about an hour, hang tight

19:57 PUCK: You're not going to believe who I just ran into. Call me.

A frown creased her forehead as she read the latter. She wasn't sure what to make of it. She decided to call him, but as she heard the dial tone she suddenly also heard Van Halen playing right outside the door. The only reason she recognized it was because it was Puck's ringtone.

"Puck?" she asked while hanging up the phone.

The door opened, and indeed it was Puck standing in the doorway.

"You're here," Santana said, shooting him an attempt at a smile.

"Hey," he said softly, not yet leaving his spot at the door. It was strange, Santana thought. Normally he would've walked up to her and taken her in for a hug, but instead he stood there looking a little awkward, as if he was afraid of her. His eyes glanced over to her mother, who was still showing no signs of waking up anytime soon. His frown deepened at the sight. He shook his head before looking back at Santana.

She scanned his appearance, wondering why he was holding back. "You okay? What was that text about?"

Puck looked to the side as he scratched the back of his head. "Yeah… About that…" A somewhat awkward silence ensued, as Puck seemingly tried to find whatever it is he wanted to say.

"You're freaking me out here," Santana said. "Spill." She shot him yet another small smile, as if to encourage him. Though she wasn't really sure if she should be worried or annoyed about the lack of response.

"Okay before you say anything… I'm sorry." With that Puck took a slight step to the left.

Santana narrowed her eyes in confusion. "What are you talking about? Why are you sorry?"

Suddenly Santana noticed someone else standing behind Puck. It didn't take long for her to recognize him. Fashionably dressed, thoroughly combed hair…

"Santana what's – oh my god," Kurt gasped as he slowly made his way past Puck, who sighed in defeat. Kurt's eyes fell on Santana's mother.

Caught off guard, Santana watched him make his way into the room. "K – Kurt. What are you…" she breathed out. Not knowing what to say, she turned to Puck, who was facing her with a rather apologetic expression.

"I – I didn't tell him, I swear," Puck said, knowing exactly what Santana was thinking. "I ran into Kurt on the train to Lima, he was there because his dad was having another check-up this week. He was asking me what I was doing here and I didn't know what to say and I thought –"

"Santana what's going on?" Kurt interrupted as he finally managed to remove his gaze from Santana's mother. "Your mom, what's…"

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Santana managed to compose herself. "Hold up." She got up from her chair, waving her hand in disapproval. "Kurt you don't get to just barge in here like that. What do you think you're doing?"

"Look, I ran into Puck." Kurt answered in an as-calm-as-possible voice. "He wouldn't tell me where he was going. I got a little worried okay? It wasn't his fault, I tagged along. Eventually he kind of had to tell me he was here to see you and –"

"And you couldn't mind your own business?" Santana finished for him, shaking her head in disbelief. There was a reason she wanted to keep quiet about her problems.

"Santana the truth is we've been worried about you. You've been acting so weird and distant – I mean god, you haven't even made fun of Rachel these past weeks – clearly something was wrong."

"Wait, so you and Berry have been talking about me?" Santana replied, feeling the need to defend herself.

"We were worried, and now I know we were right to be. What happened to your mom?" Kurt asked, attempting to get more answers.

"Everyone seriously needs to stop worrying. I'm fine, and my mom's going to be fine!" Santana said, raising her voice.

"You know I've been through this with my dad. I get it, alright?"

"Do you? Really?" Santana asked in an utterly sarcastic tone. She didn't mean to sound so harsh, she knew Kurt has had his own struggles with his dad, but she just couldn't seem to stop the words from pouring out of her mouth.

Kurt attempted to grab Santana's hand, but she quickly retreated. "Santana," Kurt started. "I'm here because I care. We care."

And there it was. That look of sympathy she hated. That's the thing about sympathy, even though it comes from a good place, it often feels like pity.

Santana huffed, turning around as she started applauding. "Bravo. That has got to be the cheesiest line ever. Have you ever considered a career in writing for Hallmark? You could use it as a safety net for when your creaky old-time broadway dreams don't work out."

Kurt's face fell. "That was uncalled for."

"You wanna talk about uncalled for?" Santana retorted. "If I wanted you to know about my problems I would've told you! Now as I recall, I didn't ask for your help."

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but seemed unsure of how to react.

"And you," Santana continued, now facing Puck. "You couldn't have lied about where you were going?"

Puck looked like he had something to say, yet he pressed his lips together and chose not to answer.

"I thought I could trust you." With that, Santana made her way to the door.

"That's not fair. Where are you going?" Puck asked, attempting to follow her.

"Out. I can't deal with this crap right now."


When she noticed Puck wasn't walking behind her anymore, she stepped into the elevator. She didn't care much about what floor she was getting out, but she just needed to get away from Kurt and Puck. The irony was that even though they both showed up to be on her side, it felt like the complete opposite.

Eventually she got out at the sixth floor. The first thing she noticed was that the hallways seemed more quiet than the ones on the third floor where her mother was on. Then again, it was past nine. Visiting hours were probably over. She continued to walk down the hallway until she finally decided to sit down at one of the chairs at the end of the hallway. She stretched her legs as she ran both of her hands through her hair. She groaned in frustration, once again wishing Quinn was there to back her up. She would have understood. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she noticed she still hadn't received any texts or calls from Quinn. She tried calling her again.

"Hi this is Quinn. I can't take your call right now but if you leave a message I'll call you back as soon as possible."

She let out another sigh. Even though she was still worried, it was nice to hear Quinn's voice. It had come to have a calming effect on her. Not having spent a lot of time apart ever since Quinn re-entered her life, Santana found herself missing the blonde. She couldn't help but wonder if Quinn was having a worse day than she was. The next half hour, she kept trying to call Quinn. Still, no answer.

"You gotta stop doing this," a voice spoke as Santana suddenly noticed the sound of footsteps.

She rolled her eyes, immediately recognizing the voice. "Stop what, Puckerman. How did you even find me?"

"Searched all the floors. And I'm talking about the fact that you run away every time you realize people actually give a crap."

Santana looked up at him. "I ran away because you betrayed my trust and you know it, so don't give me this bullshit."

Puck scoffed. "You're more hard-headed than the whole damn McKinley football team combined."

"And you really suck at this apology thing," Santana replied.

"Maybe it's because I'm actually not sorry," Puck said with a shrug, causing Santana to look at him confused.

"You know what, you're right," he continued. "I did betray you. I could have lied to Kurt, but then I realized maybe I shouldn't."

Santana narrowed her eyes at him. "I can't believe you."

"You can't do everything by yourself. I'm sick and tired of watching you ruin your life just because you're too damn stubborn to let your friends help you out."

"My friends?" Santana asked incredulously. "You mean Hummel? The glee club? Look I had a great time winning Nationals and all but we were never really friends. That's a joke."

"Bullshit," Puck replied with a stern expression on his face. "I know you care about them. All of them, and they care about you too."

"So what?" Santana snapped back. "Next time you're going to invite the whole glee club so they can sing and prance around trying to make me feel better? So that they can tell me to don't stop believing?"

"Damn it I didn't invite anyone – I didn't invite Kurt, okay? But I think you should try and let other people in. You should know that your friends always got your back."

Santana shook her head. "I have Quinn. I don't need anybody else."

"This is hard on her too you know," Puck answered, the serious expression not leaving his face.

For a moment, Santana stayed silent.

"You're in over your head," Puck reasoned. As he continued to talk, Santana buried her head in her hands in frustration. "Whether you like to admit it or not, you need your friends. Look, I know… it's hard, to let people in… but –"

"What's the point?" Santana asked, with a somewhat defeated tone in her voice. She looked back up, their eyes meeting again. As much as she tried, she couldn't look as intimidating as she wanted to. "Like seriously, what's the point?" she repeated. "Can they get my mom to wake up?"

Puck tried to say something, but it was hard to find a proper answer to that question.

"They can't, okay?" Santana continued. "They can't do anything. So Puck, please, tell me what difference does it make?"

Puck sighed.

"The difference is that you're not alone."

It was silent. Santana was out of words to say. It seemed unlikely, but quite frankly, it was tiring to keep pushing people away.

"Just let me know if you need anything." Puck gave her one last stare before walking off.

"I'm not ready," Santana finally spoke, causing Puck to turn around. "I can't… I can't have everyone there, as if something really bad is going to happen."

Puck nodded sympathetically. For some reason, it didn't feel like pity when it was with Puck.

"She'll be fine, you know that right?"

"Yeah," she said softly with a nod, though more so trying to convince herself.

"Hang in there Lopez. Your mom is too." And with that Puck turned back around and walked away, knowing Santana needed some time.

She wanted to stay mad at him. Well, she probably still was a little mad at him. But the truth is, he'd been there for her from the beginning. Even in high school, he's always had her back (in his own way). Then he watched over her mother when she couldn't do it herself. She didn't know how she would've handled the situation if he hadn't been there. Despite the fact that she was so bent on not needing any help, she did need help.


Around ten she was back at her mother's room. Kurt was gone – god knows where he went – but Santana was relieved to be alone with her mother again. Puck had left to get them take-out dinner. Even though she didn't ask for it, she couldn't deny she was actually hungry. But with so much going on, food had been the last thing on her mind.

As she slumped back down in the chair at her mother's bedside, she couldn't stop thinking about Quinn. She still hadn't heard anything from her, and it wasn't like her not to text back.

Suddenly the sound of the door had Santana snapping out of her dazed state. She looked up as the door slowly swayed open.

"Quinn." Immediately Santana got up.

"Hey…" Quinn replied, her voice sounding tired.

Part of Santana was relieved to see Quinn, but the other part was worried as she noticed the blonde's red-rimmed eyes. She had been crying. Clearly she applied make-up in an attempt to hide it, but Santana had done this so many times back in high school she could see right through.

"Quinn," Santana spoke again, as she worriedly took the blonde in for an embrace, placing a small peck on her cheek before pulling away to face her again. "What happened?"


Song / Chapter Title: Queen of Elba by Laura Jansen