Hello lovely readers,
Sorry for the long-ish delay on this chap! I was sick for a few weeks (no, it wasn't mono, haha), and it just sucked every creative impulse right out of me. But I am feeling much better now! Hope you'll all enjoy this super-fluffy chapter :)
-JW
…
Take Me As I Am
Chapter 37
By JewWitch
…
"Hey sweetheart, are you up for a visitor?" Rachel's daddy stood in the doorway of the living room, holding a tray with afternoon tea for his two patients. A nervous-looking Santana stood stiffly at his elbow, chewing her lip and staring fixedly at her shoes. "Santana swears she's already had mono, so I let her in. I figured you'd appreciate some news from the outside world." Michael's warm smile at their visitor made it painfully obvious that he had no idea that it was her fault Rachel and Quinn were sick. Santana swallowed uncomfortably and stared at the floor, suddenly feeling a little nauseous. She'd been sure they would rat her out…but somehow, knowing they hadn't, it didn't make her feel any better. It was almost worse.
"Hello, Santana," Rachel said dully, sitting up a little straighter under the pile of blankets bundled around her on the couch. Michael came over and set his tray down on the coffee table, oblivious to the tension in the air, and gave his daughter a smile as he leaned over her and felt her forehead.
"You drink this before it gets cold," he gently instructed, kissing her cheek.
"Thanks, Daddy," Rachel smiled weakly. Michael winked at her, then glanced at Quinn, dead asleep at the other end of the couch, and went to feel her forehead, too.
"Poor kid," he sighed, picking up the fresh ice pack lying on the tea tray and pressing it gently to her hot forehead. "Make sure she has something to drink when she wakes up, okay princess? If she doesn't want the tea, just call me, and I'll bring her something else- we just need to keep her hydrated till the fever breaks."
"'Kay," Rachel nodded sleepily, with another small smile for her daddy as he ruffled her hair and walked back towards the kitchen. Santana stood awkwardly in the middle of the Berrys' living room, avoiding eye contact as she fidgeted with the DVD case in her hands.
"So, um...no one in glee has spoken to me for a week. Not even B." Rachel put down her magazine and glared silently, in no rush to alleviate Santana's discomfort. "Geez, Berry. The one time I want you to let me have it, you're just gonna sit there and not say a word?" Quinn sighed in her sleep and nuzzled up to the stuffed monster in her arms, completely oblivious to the entire confrontation.
"What do you want, Santana?" Rachel groaned wearily, sitting up a little and rubbing her eyes. "I'm not really up for a verbal sparring match right now."
"I- Nothing. I just came to give you this recording of the new number we've been working on in glee this week...Mr. Schue wants to use it for Regionals. I figured you'd want a chance to see it as soon as possible. And, um, I don't know if you knew, tomorrow's the last day to register for AP exams. I know Q was planning to take some, so I got the form for her and filled it out as much as I could. She just has to enter the subjects she wants, and sign it. I got one for you, too, just in case." Santana pulled the forms out of her backpack and held them awkwardly out to Rachel, along with the homemade DVD.
"Fine. Thanks. Just leave them on the coffee table." Santana nodded mutely, dropping the offerings on the table and clasping her hands like a child waiting for her punishment. Rachel grumbled and wiped her nose on a crumpled tissue.
"So, um...are you feeling any better?"
"A little," Rachel sighed wearily. "Quinn isn't, though. Her fever's so high, she can barely make it from the couch to the bathroom on her own."
"I'm really sorry, Rachel," Santana said quietly, sitting on the edge of the ottoman and staring down miserably at her knees. "I know I fucked everything up..." The obvious sincerity in the usually gruff Latina's voice made Rachel look up in surprise, to see tears welling up in the other girl's dark eyes. Santana was not one for apologies- Rachel could think of only one other time she'd ever heard the girl say the words I'm sorry, and that had been for slapping Quinn across the face on the first day of school. And even then, she'd basically still yelled at them while she was apologizing. She'd certainly never apologized directly to Rachel before.
"Yeah, you did," Rachel agreed with a sigh, studying the lines of regret etched into the other girl's face. "But at least you've admitted it. I don't think I ever really understood how insecure you were, underneath all the audacity and bravado. But saying out loud that you did something wrong means you're willing to accept some responsibility for once…so that's a start." Santana frowned, looking like she wanted to retort; but she bit it back, and just nodded uncomfortably.
"So…you forgive me?"
"Provisionally," Rachel agreed, with a squeak of alarm as she found herself suddenly enveloped in a rib-cracking hug. "Ow! Santana, take it easy!"
"Oh, um…sorry." Santana grinned sheepishly. Quinn whimpered and opened her eyes, roused by the sudden jolt of activity on the couch.
"Hi sleepyhead," Rachel cooed, and Quinn grinned woozily at the sound of her girlfriend's voice.
"Hmm…hey baby," she yawned, blinking blearily.
"Hi Q," Santana said gently, shocking Rachel again by reaching out and stroking a lock of sweat-dampened hair back behind the blonde girl's ear. "How are you feeling?"
"Sleepy," Quinn sighed woozily. "My head hurts…" With another soft whimper, Quinn pressed a hand to her head, accidentally knocking the ice pack to the floor. Santana bent down and retrieved it, gently pressing it back to the blonde girl's sweaty forehead.
"Don't touch," the Latina warned sternly, pulling Quinn's hand back down and pulling the blankets snugly up to her chin. "You need to leave that ice pack where it is, Q. It'll make you feel better."
"'Kay," Quinn murmured, her eyes glassy and fever-bright as she looked up at Santana in confusion. "Why are you here?"
"I, um…just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry, Q. I wish I could take back what I did…I really do."
"Mm-hmm…I know," Quinn sighed, patting Santana's hand absently. "S'okay, San…you just need to…*sniff*…start trusting people. Y'know? You just…have to." Santana chuckled a little at Quinn's sleepy wisdom, and smiled sadly.
"I'll try, okay?" She sounded like she meant it.
"You know this doesn't really count, right?" Rachel said sternly. Santana frowned at her in confusion.
"What doesn't count?"
"Quinn forgiving you. You have to apologize to her again when she's lucid, and not running a fever of a hundred and three. She'd forgive Hitler for the Third Reich right now."
"A hundred and three?" Santana repeated, looking horrified. Rachel just glared at her, letting the other girl stew in her own regret for a minute.
"I can hear you, you know," Quinn mumbled, rubbing her nose sleepily with her eyes closed. "Don't be mean, Rach…she's trying." Rachel grumbled, obviously unwilling to argue with her girlfriend in this state, and Santana tried her best not to look too smug about it.
"Quinn, honey, can you drink some of this tea for me?" Rachel asked, sitting up slightly from her end of the couch to reach for Quinn's tea on the coffee table. But she was still woozy and exhausted, and halfway there she fell back again dizzily. "Uhh, fuck…"
"I got it," Santana jumped in immediately, picking up the tea and offering it to the sleepy blonde girl.
"No more tea," Quinn grumbled, opening her eyes a crack and then closing them again.
"How about something else, then? I can get it for you," Santana offered anxiously. Rachel blinked bemusedly, with a weary smirk at the other girl's uncharacteristic helpfulness. She had to admit, Santana was doing the one thing that Rachel couldn't ignore: being nice to Quinn. The woozy blonde girl in question groaned and opened her eyes again, just a crack.
"Ginger ale," she murmured drowsily.
"Great! Coming right up." Santana practically bounded off the couch with her sudden enthusiasm for ginger ale. As soon as she was out of the room, Rachel sat up unsteadily and crawled to Quinn's end of the couch, cuddling up to her girlfriend's overheated body and dropping a few kisses on her cheek.
"I missed you at the other end of the couch," Rachel murmured, drawing a contented sigh from the sleepy blonde girl.
"Stay here," Quinn mumbled back, slipping one hand up the back of Rachel's pajama top and splaying out her fingers against the smaller girl's warm back. "I feel better when I'm touching you…"
"Then I'll never move again," Rachel yawned, closing her eyes. When Santana came back from the kitchen, she found them still cuddled up like that, looking like they were both asleep. She thought about just leaving the ginger ale for Quinn to find when she woke up…but then she thought about Rachel's father telling them not to let the feverish blonde girl get dehydrated, and she gently reached out and shook her friend's arm, hoping she wasn't really asleep.
"Hey, you awake Q? I got some nice cold ginger ale for you, with a bendy straw and everything." Santana kept her voice low, but apparently Quinn really wasn't asleep, because her eyes cracked open immediately. Rachel just mumbled something about being late for an audition, and twitched a little, obviously dead to the world. Santana smirked and rolled her eyes.
"Thanks, San," Quinn murmured, reaching weakly for the drink. Santana didn't really trust her shaky grip, so she kept one hand on the glass, letting Quinn focus on just getting the straw in her mouth.
"Aw, c'mon Q, you can drink more than that," Santana cajoled when Quinn gave up after a couple of sips. The blonde girl frowned sleepily, but took the straw back, and slowly drank until the glass was half empty.
"I wish…you were like this all the time," Quinn sighed when Santana put her glass down on the coffee table. "Are you gonna be a bitch again…when I come back to school?" She asked it so simply, with no judgment or expectation, that Santana couldn't help but answer honestly.
"I don't know, Q. I'm gonna try to be better, okay? But you know it's not something I can just change overnight…it's gonna take some time."
"Mm-hmm," Quinn agreed absently, closing her eyes again and snaking her hand back under Rachel's shirt. "I know. It was hard for me, too…hard to stop being mad at the world."
"How did you?" Santana asked, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. "How did you even start?" Quinn opened her eyes, and smiled serenely, lightly stroking her sleeping girlfriend's back under her shirt.
"Rachel," she said simply. "She just kept showing me that she loved me…no matter how much I tried to push her away…until I just didn't want to anymore. She made me feel safe." Santana nodded sadly, but didn't say anything. "Britt will forgive you," Quinn said after a minute. "She loves you, San…you just have to let her."
Santana sat with Quinn for a few more minutes, until she was sure the blonde girl was asleep; then she pulled the blankets up securely around both of her sleeping friends, and left the ginger ale within easy reach on the coffee table. Then she went to say goodbye to Rachel's fathers in the kitchen, resisting the impulse to sneer or flip them off when they offered her dinner. Instead she gave them what she hoped was a polite smile, and explained that she had somewhere else she had to be. She just hoped, and she left for Brittany's house, that Quinn was as secretly-smart about relationships as she was on standardized tests.
