They sat together at the steel chairs a few feet away from the sleeping Santana. They talked about their lives, how they were doing.
"I know, I can't really be the best dad. I don't know, really. Anne, it's so hard. I can't take care of Brittany," Robbie sighed.
"I'm sorry, Rob. I know, this may sound so cliché, but…Chad and I had been on the rocks, lately. He hardly comes home and I really feel that, I…I feel that I belong to someone else."
"Wow," Robbie replied nonchalantly.
"Yeah," Anne nodded softly. There was a silence that hung between them.
Santana stirred on her chair. "Rob?" Santana wiped the sleep off her eyes.
"Santana," Robbie started to stand up. "This is Anne. Brittany's mother," Robbie introduced the elder blonde.
Santana sprung quickly from her chair, obviously trying to muster an accepted behaviour.
"Good evening, Mrs. Pierce," Santana mustered a smile.
"San…it's already four in the morning," Robbie said softly.
"What? How in the he-" Santana stopped short. "Umm…hello, Mrs. Pierce."
"Please, call me Anne. You are too modest if you call me Mrs. Pierce. And I am divorced," she said softly, albeit sternly.
Somehow, there was a little hurt as she mentioned that she was divorced.
Santana lowered her eyes as she averted her gaze on the floor. Being with Anne Pierce was worse than being with Robbie.
"She's…uhh, Brittany's…best friend and…umm…girlfriend."
"Oh, I've heard much about you," Anne nodded curtly.
An awkward silence hung between them. "Anne, umm…let's have coffee, then?" Robbie said.
The two adults left Santana behind, with the promise that they'd come back shortly after that. They did not talk much along the way, and quickly brought their cups of coffee. Anne had two in her hands. She handed one for Santana.
"Here's your coffee," Anne smiled a little smile. Santana breathed hard as she accepted the cup of coffee and she gratefully thanked Anne.
The sun shone its first rays under through the French-styled windows. They were ushered in as the nurse went out and told them Brittany was awake.
"Mr. Pierce?" a doctor in a white gown called them once they were inside the much cooler room.
"Yes?" Robbie raised his brow.
"Sir," the doctor started to say. "I'm afraid, your daughter had suffered a few fractures on her rib cage and…brain damage from her fall."
"What? What does it mean?" Robbie's voice cracked. Anne instantly gasped and the elder woman had to lean on to Santana. It took Santana time to chew in the information as she waited for the doctor to finish.
"I'm afraid…she can't remember some things that had happened to her recently. She had a short-term amnesia, but this might be temporary or…permanent. Only time will tell…"
It took the three of them several seconds before they could react. Robbie stood rooted to the ground, before Santana could hear Anne sniff. Santana's own legs began to shake as she tried her hard to sit Anne back onto the waiting chairs just outside Brittany's room.
She might forget her. She might not remember anything. She might…her feelings for her might have changed. And they might have changed completely.
"San…Santana," Anne cried as she sat down.
Santana sat beside Anne, while Robbie sat with her on the other side. Santana was actually trying to be strong just for the Pierces to hang on. If there was someone who would stay sane during this time, it has to be her.
"Hey, she'll be alight…she'll get her memory back…" Robbie tried to console the crying blonde beside him.
"Rob, she's…she's just too young…Robbie, oh gosh, please…she doesn't deserve this…" Anne clung to Robbie's arm.
"Shh…she'll be fine…she'll be fine. Santana…" Robbie looked towards Santana, who was sitting there, quietly rubbing Anne's back, her eyes as distant as cold stars.
"Santana, are you alright?" Robbie asked again.
But Santana did not answer. Her far-off look was all over her face.
Suddenly, Martin burst into the door. "Sorry, I was in Washington when I heard the news."
Immediately, Santana snapped from her dreamy gaze and scooted over her tired-looking father and hugged him tight as she bawled out. She clung onto her father's chest like she had cried too many times before when she was younger.
But right now was no different. She still felt like as if she had lost her favourite comfort object. She felt as if she could not breathe.
"Papi…she's…I thought…at first…it was just so okay, I gave her my bag so she wouldn't be nervous…Papi, it was…my fault…" Santana drew in heavy breaths.
"Santana, mija, it's not your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault."
"Sebastian did it, Papi. I know he did it. He wanted to kill me."
"Santana, we shouldn't be talking about that, we should be praying for Brittany," Martin stroked the raven-coloured hair.
"I can't face her, Papi. I…I can't just…imagine…"
"Go on. She needs you," Martin gave her daughter an encouraging look.
Robbie and Anne Pierce went inside the room and stayed there for almost what felt like hours to Santana. She wasn't prepared yet. And she's not ready on how she would react if Brittany would tell her that she doesn't know any Santana at all.
Too many questions starting with 'what if…' flashed through Santana's mind. She could still vividly remember how Brittany looked the day before. Hair was whipped across her face, her eyes glinting of excitement. Santana could still smell the mix of flower and laundry soap on her arm. It was Brittany's scent.
But right now her Brittany smelled of medicine. She smelled of the hospital, the sickening IV fluids…everything Santana hated about hospitals.
Santana stepped into Brittany's sight. She could hear Anne and Brittany talking. It must have been about people Brittany had met and couldn't remember because she was fervently shaking her head off as if her mother did not make any sense at all.
As Santana neared the two women she started to hear the conversation.
"No, Mom. I don't know any Santana. Mom, where's Sam? I need him."
Santana felt as if she was punched on the chest.
She had forgotten her.
Hot tears had started to well out from her eyes as Santana made a run for the comfort rooms. It was a far run and she was crying already as she made her left turn towards her destination.
Slamming the door behind her, she rested her hands on the sink.
She had forgotten her.
She could still remember her voice whens she said the words to her mother.
No. I don't know any Santana. Where's Sam? I need him.
Why could she remember Sam and not her?
"Fuck, shit, fuck!" Santana dabbed her tears.
Why? Why it has to be her? Why it has to be Brittany who had to fall?
Red, swollen, puffy eyes met Santana's empty gaze in the mirror. She can't live without Brittany in her life. They were meant to be, they were perfect. She's not going to let her go. She'll take her back. And she would never stop until she gets her back into her arms.
She will never give up on their love.