A/N: Repeat after me, "I WILL NOT GET SPOILED!" Hahaha, three chapters in as many days...that being said, don't expect me to pull any miracles with a fourth. A chica needs a brain break. ;) Ciao Bellas!
You (benny blanco, Marshmello & Vance Joy)
Brittany's POV
"Mama?"
"Yes, baby?"
"Jugo?" Dani shook her sippy cup at me. We had just landed and were about to get off the plane; the last thing she needed was more liquid.
"No more, baby, sorry."
She poked out her bottom lip, looking very much like Ana at that moment, which made my heart hurt.
I hated how we left things; there were probably other ways to help my parents, but Matty got in my head, plus I was just finding out about Dad's heart attack nearly two years out.
All I wanted was answers, and then I'd come home; I was planning to get home for the hearing; I just didn't want to get her hopes up.
But maybe I should have.
I grabbed our suitcase from the overhead bin, then picked up my cranky daughter, hoping that I could find a way to cheer her up.
Mom and Dad didn't know that I was coming; it would be a complete surprise.
When people saw the woman with the toddler, they moved out of our way much quicker.
Once we were off the plane, I buckled Dani into her stroller and then made my voice super squeaky.
"Who's ready to go see Gamma?"
"Me!" She giggled and threw up her hands, shaking them all crazy.
"And Pop Pop?"
"ME! Oh...Mama...I go potty?"
I stopped the stroller just outside the bathroom and checked her pullup; it was bone dry.
She seemed really excited to have held it, so I cheered for her while holding her above the toilet.
Once we were finished in the bathroom, I fished my phone out of my pocket and turned off airplane mode.
I had two missed calls from Quinn.
But nothing from my wife.
Which was odd. Even when we were mad, we still checked in, especially since I had Dani with me.
Hi, Baby! We just landed. I love you!-Britt
I waited for the three dots to appear, but they didn't, and with Dani getting restless after being strapped back in the stroller, I couldn't just stand there and wait.
So I called, and it went straight to voicemail.
"Hey, baby. We landed; I'm headed to the rental counter to get a car. What should I get, do you think? You'd probably say a BMW, but I think I want a bright yellow car. I don't care who makes it. I miss you; I promise that as soon as I get back...oh...Quinn's calling for the third time; maybe it's you. Did you lose your phone again? Talk soon!"
I switched the call over to Quinn and could hear people calling my wife's name.
"Hello?"
"B! Has Santana called you?"
"No, I was just leaving her a voicemail. What's going on?"
"She stormed out of the salon and...Ceily, baby, what are you...fuck!"
I parked the stroller and sat in front of it, rocking it back and forth.
"Quinn, talk to me!"
"We found her."
"Is she okay?"
The phone was shuffled, and then I heard sirens.
"Britt? It's Puck."
"Hi. What's going on?"
"You need to get here, now."
"I'm at the airport in Dayton...what's wrong?"
"She's on a stoop covered in blood, high as a kite...it's Dr. Cray's stoop."
My whole body felt frozen; I looked over at Dani; she was passed out...thankfully.
"I'm going to catch the first flight."
"Okay."
"She needs pants!" I heard Quinn say.
Where were her pants?
Oh, God.
"Fuck, Quinn, you can't strip on the street!" Puck said, and I just sat there, stunned.
"She is naked; I live across the fucking street Noah. She can have these; I have boxers on!"
"Fine...be careful with her."
I could also hear rapid-fire Spanish, which meant Celia was also there.
"Puck?"
"Right, I forgot I was on the phone. Did you get a flight?"
"No, I'm about to, just...make sure she isn't alone for a second."
"She's already high, B."
I sighed; if I hadn't decided to read her journal starting from the back, I wouldn't have known how suicidal she'd been.
Right in front of my face, while smiling and acting happy, she'd been inching closer to finding a way to die accidentally.
And right then, with her high, I just needed to make sure she was alive when I got home.
"Just, please find a way to keep her from going off on her own."
"Okay, I promise."
I ran to the first counter that I could find and was able to get a flight back to New York that left in thirty minutes.
Thankfully, I wouldn't have to go back to TSA with a sleeping toddler.
When I was sitting in the boarding area, I called my wife just to listen to her voicemail.
It was a quick one.
"Who checks their voicemail? Seriously? Just text me!" I smiled when I heard her smartass voice.
Would she have her humor after this?
It had taken years for me to get her to be silly again. Would I lose that?
This wasn't about me; I had to remember that.
I called Gladys and was surprised that no one else had.
"Brittany? Mamita, why are you crying?"
Had I been?
"Just talked to Quinn, it's Ana...something bad happened. I'm at the airport in Dayton...I need you to go to her. Please?"
"Tell me what happened."
"I don't know; all I know is she's really high, she doesn't have pants, she's bleeding, and something about Dr. Cray's house."
"Shit. Oh, Brittany, Celia is calling me; this must be about Ana. I will find out more."
The boarding message sounded.
"Thank you. I am getting on the plane now. Let me know where you are, and I'll come straight to you."
"Okay, Cuidate."
"Igualmente."
I put Dani in the seat by the window and tucked my sweater around her. She sighed and curled up more.
My sweet girl.
I kissed her little face.
"I promise you, Mami is going to be okay."
For the next hour, I wept silently while I read her sometimes smudged words in Henry.
She'd been trying hard to open up to me and submit to my needs, but she was leaving a part of herself.
I froze when I saw that she'd bought a diner...in Lake George.
That's where she'd been that morning.
I had thought she'd gone to get high, and here she was making boss bitch moves.
The pride that I felt for my incredible wife made me laugh out loud. People looked over at me, but I didn't care.
I pulled out a pen and turned to an empty page.
My tears were dripping and smearing some of the ink, but I hoped it didn't take away from my words.
My love,
You should never doubt my love for you. I only want you, ALWAYS. I did something dumb, flying away when you're hurting. I think I forgot how important it is for me to be there when you're hurting so much.
I forget that it's me that you have chosen to lean on; I swear to you that I will NEVER do that again.
Always and only you, Santana Lopez. I'm holding on until forever. No matter what happens, I've got you until my dying day.
Te Amo,
Britt Britt
The first moment that I could, I called Gladys.
"What hospital?"
"Not hospital, precinct."
"What? Why?"
"I asked the same thing; she was brought here and is in a room, screaming at everyone. She won't talk about what happened, which means I taught her well."
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"Sweetie, I would rather tell you when you get here. I just sent you the address. Come straight here. You're the only one she wants."
"Okay."
When I walked out of the airport, ready to hail a cab, Ana's black SUV was sitting there, and Quinn was standing there, with blood on her clothes.
"Are you bleeding?"
She looked down at her shirt and then shook her head.
"Didn't know I got some on me. That explains the stares. Come on, I'll drop you off at the precinct and take Dani home."
"Thank you."
"I'm just glad you're here."
Once we got Dani strapped in and distracted with her tablet and headphones, I asked because I needed to know what I was walking into.
"Tell me what you know, please?"
"We argued, she stormed out. I was halfway through my manicure; I figured she was going to her car, but then I saw a guy, I rushed out as soon as I could, but she was gone. Noah got the address of Dr. Cray; he lives, I swear, diagonally across an intersection to Celia."
"Shit."
"Yeah, we went over there, and she was sitting on the steps covered in blood without shoes or pants."
"Do you think he...you know...did she say?"
"She didn't say, but I'm pretty sure he did. Blood wasn't the only fluid I saw on her. I wrapped her in my pants, then in the ambulance, I put them on her. She is higher than I've ever seen, but she's lucid; it's so odd."
"What about him?"
"She slashed his throat, then tried to stop the bleeding with her skirt. He's in the ICU, and fucking Noah insisted that she be taken to the precinct."
"So she hasn't been to a hospital?"
"No." She growled. "She wouldn't let the EMTs touch her, now she's understandably pissed off, her back is bloody...there's just so much of blood that we aren't sure who it belongs to."
"She needs a hospital."
"I know."
"Why hasn't Gladys done anything?"
"She has but, all San wants is you; she won't calm down, won't let people touch her. Noah said she looks like a cornered animal; she was growling at him."
"He probably deserved it."
"Probably."
I kissed Dani a hundred times and hugged Quinn so hard before I walked into the police station.
All I knew was that Ana needed me, and I hadn't been there, but everyone probably felt a little guilty.
Quinn looked pale, and her hands had been shaking throughout the drive.
She was the last one with her. Of course, she was feeling the pressure, and knowing Celia, she hadn't bitten her tongue about it.
I walked inside and immediately saw a bunch of people in those FBI jackets that you normally only see on tv. Then I heard Gladys.
"What do you mean you had her cuffed without reading her Miranda rights?"
So maybe she was doing something.
"Ma, I'm here!" I called out, and she whipped around so fast, looking small but mighty.
"Thank God! Let me into the observation room; she needs to be prepared before she goes in there."
Captain Dominguez nodded to me and then ushered us inside the room.
"Clear the room." She demanded.
Puck looked at me and mouthed an apology.
"This wasn't what I meant by watch her!" I snapped at him, and he dropped his head and walked out.
When I looked through the two-way mirror, there she was huddled against the wall, mumbling to herself.
Descriptions hadn't done justice to what I was seeing.
Her hair was a black cloud of knots, some of it slick with liquid and others pointing in different directions.
She had blood on every part of her skin that was visible, and she was still barefoot.
"Why isn't she at a hospital? Have you talked to her?" I asked Gladys, and she shook her head.
"No. I've been busy talking to the FBI; they're going to give her immunity for her testimony. Now that Trent's house is a crime scene, they can sweep it like never before. In her rambling, she said something about checking the tape. We are trying to let her wear herself out so we can get her to a hospital. We can't move her like this. She'll make her injuries worse."
"If you want her calm, then you shouldn't be leaving her alone; it's the last thing she wants."
"What?"
"God, Gladys, no disrespect, but you suck as a mom."
"Excuse me, Brittany, I am here moving mountains, she slashed a man's throat with a jagged piece of glass. She's lucky that this isn't a murder case!"
"All she has ever wanted from you is attention, she's so fucking lonely, and I have been trying to hold her up for YEARS, so has Quinn...why can't you see that? I'm one person, I have kids and a job, you just have her, and you work when you want; I can't be the only person who holds her up. She needs you; there's no reason that MY mother has been more loving to her than you. Do MORE."
"I...I...I love her, Brittany."
"Prove it! When I get her calm, I need you to have an ambulance waiting; I don't want her here a second longer than necessary. Then I need you to make sure that she's not going to end up in jail without dropping a charge or screwing her over. You want me to believe that you love her, then be the best fucking lawyer on the planet."
Gladys glared at me but just gave a quick nod before letting me into the room.
At first, I tried to be firm. That was stupid.
She flinched when I spoke; I couldn't act like who we had become; she was reverting...my therapist had told me once that you revert to the age of your first trauma whenever you are met with it again. From what I knew, her first trauma was when she was 13...that was at least her first big one.
Then losing her first baby.
So I took myself back to my teenage self, who knew nothing about personal space.
From the first moment that I saw her, she'd been stumbling and swaying, she needed to sit, but the table wasn't where she wanted to be.
If she'd wanted to sit at the table, she would have been there.
When I walked over to her, I glanced at the metal chair and saw blood all over it.
I choked back a sob as I spoke to her.
She tried to be snappy with me at first, her old default from high school.
Then more blood came, and I knew she'd snorted something, but I wasn't sure how much.
When I asked her, she put her hand to her neck, touching some purple bruising.
I probably shouldn't have because she smelled like sex and blood, mixed with a smell that I didn't recognize, but still, I kissed her neck, and she shivered.
When I used my favorite sweater, the same one that our baby girl had been wrapped in during the flight, to stop the blood, she looked apologetic.
Quinn was right; she was both very much aware of things but also high as all hell.
Liquid and powder were so scary, but I couldn't freak out because that wouldn't help anything.
So I got her to the floor, first on her side, and then I urge her to lay on her stomach.
When she was lying flat, her eyes looked heavy...she was definitely close to passing out.
She growled at me, then begged me to leave.
I didn't deserve this, she said.
The kids needed me.
She needed to be left to die.
Leave. Leave. Leave, she begged.
I pulled off my sweater, balled it up, and put it under her head.
The moment that I got up to leave, her body finally gave in.
She blacked out, and it scared me.
It reminded me of the time she overdosed in Sue's office a million years before.
Once she was out, the door opened, and Gladys came in with the EMTs.
When they went to turn her, I stopped them.
"All of her injuries are on her back. You have to keep her on her stomach...she also has seizures when she gets too high."
"Are you her next of kin?"
"Her wife."
"Ride with us."
At the hospital, she was suddenly awake, but she wasn't talking, just nodding or shaking her head.
She was seeing without seeing, reaching for me but not responding to anything I said.
Right then, I was glad for Ana's many hospital stays because everyone knew her at the hospital in Manhattan that I insisted we be taken to.
They tried to tell me that they had to go to the closest, but I insisted that we go further; I didn't care how much it cost. Her doctors were there, so it's where we needed to be.
When we were on our way, I made a call that I hadn't in a really long time.
"Brittany?"
"Hi Dr. Cabot, are you on call today?"
"Yes, I'm between patients. How are you?"
"Not good. We are in the ambulance. I think she was raped...she needs you."
"Ok, how far out are you?"
I asked the EMT, and he held up his hand.
"Five minutes. She has a lot of injuries, but I want to make sure they do the rape kit. Please?"
"Okay, we'll be ready."
When we got there, there she stood, with the trauma team.
Everything moved fast once we were there.
Ana was awake enough to look at the doctors and tell them she consented, but with just one good look in her eyes, you'd know she couldn't make decisions.
"Brittany, are you in touch with Quinn Fabray?" Dr. Cabot asked.
"Yes...why?"
"She is still listed as Santana's Medical Power of Attorney...it's obvious Santana isn't able to make decisions for herself."
"Oh. I'll call her."
"Isaac! I need Isaac! Please, please! I need him! Please?!" Ana kept yelling over and over again. "Britt, baby, please?!"
I nodded and then went out into the hall to call Quinn.
She had been midargument with Celia, but she picked up my son and brought him to us.
The doctors swarmed her, asking about surgeries and examinations, each time she asked me first before answering.
Over and over, Quinn has shown up for her, and if it takes the rest of my life, I knew I had to be better to her...fuck...if she wanted to leave Celia and join my marriage, I wouldn't even care anymore.
She was our anchor.
Thank God for her.
With every available breath, Ana asked for Izzy.
But we held off until she was about to go into surgery to have her rib mended and get an upper-body cast.
She took one look at his crying face, though, and begged Quinn to take him away.
"I thought you wanted him." I asked, and she mumbled.
"He's safe. He's not a grape. He's safe. Thank you, Jesus...Ian, see, I told you he's safe. Not a grape. Not a grape."
She was delirious.
I kissed her face while she drifted.
When I walked into the hallway, Quinn handed me, Izzy.
"They want to induce a coma, Britt...Gladys is here with a cop from her rehab. Did you call them?"
"Yes, while you were on your way, I called her therapist and her psychiatrist. After I told them what happened, we agreed she should come down at rehab. They have a mini-hospital there...she'll be safer there."
"But why a cop?"
I didn't know how to feel about Gladys making an immunity deal that involved my wife going back on house arrest. She insisted it was for Ana's protection. Also, she was a flight risk. This way, she would be safe and secure while she waited to testify.
"It's part of the deal that Gladys made. She testifies, she doesn't go to jail...but if she skips town, skips testifying they are going to throw the book at her."
"That's fucked up. Are we sure Gladys is a good lawyer?" Q asked, and I laughed for the first time in hours.
"Right?! Anyway, I told her that Ana was close to the cop from her rehab; if anyone was going to put a monitor on her, it had to Officer Coleman."
"And she agreed?"
"I yelled at her, and I think it scared her."
"Good. When you have a moment, you should yell at the sisters, too, especially Celia."
"I'll see if I can pencil you in."
I'd been rocking my son the whole time, and finally, he relaxed and began snoring on my shoulder.
Poor little guy.
When we got to triage a full day later, since she needed rest after her surgery, they wouldn't let me go back with her.
I was just expected to leave her there, and I refused.
"You can sleep on my couch." Dr. Clover said, "I wouldn't want to leave either."
"Thank you."
When I got settled, she handed me a tablet that was feeding into the cameras in the triage room.
Ana looked pale while she slept, the cast kept her still for the most part, but the tremors were visible.
"How bad do you think this is? Will 14 days be enough?"
Dr. Clover gave me a sad smile and then shook her head.
"We got the readout for the drugs in her system, Fentanyl, Cocaine, Heroin, and traces of something opioid-based, but it's not something I recognize."
"He makes his own drugs."
"Christ, why?"
"No idea. He's a chemist."
"We can only hold her for 14 days. After that, it will be up to her to decide whether or not she would like to continue treatment."
"It has to be her decision?"
"Yes."
"What if I make her think it's her idea that she stays?"
"I won't openly tell you to manipulate your wife, Brittany. That being said, as the other parent, you can express your concern for them."
"Okay."
"I'm going to leave you to sleep out here; I'm on call tonight so, I may be in and out all night."
"Wanky." I muttered, and she smirked back.
"I know; I miss her too."
Somehow I was able to fall asleep that night. The last thing I saw was my wife.
And when I woke up in the morning, it was to breakfast and coffee, and my wife up on the big monitor.
"Why can't we hear?" I asked.
"Confidentiality. We can watch, but we can't listen."
"How was she?"
"I sent her a rose on your behalf. I hope you don't mind."
"That's perfect, thank you. How's her health?"
"She had another nose bleed in the middle of the night. They cauterized wounds in her nasal cavity. She's also getting electrolytes. She's severely dehydrated; that opioid trace we talked about last night seems to be outputting the same levels as before."
"What does that mean?"
"Her body is trying to replicate the protein makeup of opioids. It's fascinating and terrifying."
"How bad is that?"
"For now, it's okay because we are aware of it. We are still trying to understand what she took and what he was manufacturing. Once we can piece together what we are working against, we will be able to properly help her come down."
"So you're saying she's still high?"
"Technically, yes."
"But she looks sober."
"Yes, if she hadn't ever taken a drug, it would be more visible. Right now, it's so low level that she can't even feel it. She's still got pain, and it just barely shows up on the opioid panel. Amy noticed this. Synthetic drugs were a part of her thesis or something along those lines. Once she gets her vitals taken, Amy will go in and talk to her, then after that, you can go in."
"I can?"
"Yes. Amy brought the duffel bag you sent through Quinn. It's in my bathroom; feel free to shower and change. I'll keep an eye on Santana for you."
I hadn't taken my eyes from the screen throughout the whole conversation.
My wife was just so small and delicate...I needed to protect her better.
When I came out of the bathroom, with the bag over my shoulder, Dr. Clover wasn't alone.
"Should I go?" I asked.
The priest turned around, and I dropped the bag and my jaw.
"Marco?" My chest felt tight...he stood there with my baby girls' chin dimple with sad eyes.
"Hi, Brittany."
"You know, there was this tiny part of me that felt like you were alive...I can't believe that I was right."
"I'm not surprised; Anita always insisted on how smart you are. She says that you see what others overlook."
"Yeah...I do. So, you are here to see her...right?"
"Yes. I am the other big witness against Trent and his father, Jerome or as you know him, Mr. Evans."
I rubbed my shoulder, where the bullet scar still remained like a little crater.
"Are you a real priest, or is this just a disguise so you could come here?"
"When the feds approached me about snitching for immunity, they told me they were working with Nico, and they could offer me protection."
"Nico is wrapped in this?"
"He is. Somehow we have ended up on the same side; anyway, I told them that I would prefer to go to Seminary. Since Anita annulled our marriage, we were never married in the eyes of the church."
"But you like sex." At that, Dr. Clover excused herself, saying she had to check on a patient.
"Let's sit; I need to explain myself."
"You sit; I'll stand."
He nodded and sat down, folding his hands over his crossed legs.
"When Daniela was born, I changed; she opened my eyes to so much. It shouldn't have taken that long, but it did. When I had the chance, I found a way to be better. I wanted her to see me as a good guy." He grinned and then shook his head. "I know how funny that is, but it's true. I love her with every bit of my soul, and it's my wish that someday, she will be able to come to see me as a gift in her life rather than a stain."
"I can believe that."
"You were always more intuitive than the rest of us."
"Don't butter me up, Marco. We both know that she needs to know you're alive before the case starts. She should go in knowing you're alive. She can't handle any more public humiliation; she has never been able to let things roll off her back. She cares what other people think."
"I know. That's partially why I'm here. Goli told me what happened," I must have looked confused because there is only one person I have heard called by that name. "Gloria, you know her by that name. She was going through her year vow of silence when we met. I sent her Ari's way. They were just made for each other; I hear that I was right. Anyway, she is the only one who knew about me being in witness protection. She told me what happened, and I convinced the feds to let me see her because if she has any doubts, she won't after I let her know that I'm in on this, and so is Nico. It was just my luck that she chose a Catholic rehab. Dr. Clover tells me that I cannot see Anita, but through you."
"You need my permission. Okay...I can give it to you...on a few conditions."
"Naturally."
"You won't try to come and play Daddy to my daughter or my wife." He looked at me straight on and nodded.
"Done, and to be clear, Anita made it perfectly clear that you're the only one she wants to call that."
"Good...I mean, you still found a way for her to call you father, though."
"Ha! I didn't think of that. What else?"
"Second, I need you to be the softest, teddy bear version of yourself. Rainbow and duckies, she doesn't need to be triggered."
"I agree. Anything else?"
"Do you have a rosary?"
"A few, yes."
"I've been watching her hands...look," I pointed to the screen, and he looked at her, talking to Amy. "She keeps counting the beads...I think she's praying in her head. Even when she talks, she's moving her fingers like when she prays."
"If she is allowed a rosary, I will give her one. Is that it?"
"No...I need to know what your intentions are once you're alive again."
"I have no intention on contesting rights; I gave those to you the moment she was born, but if you allowed it, I would like to see her, supervised of course, and I'd like to see Isaac too...I have loved him from afar because he is a piece of Anita. I intend to serve my God and my parish. I don't want my old life, it's dead to me, and I'd like to keep it that way. You brought up my love of sex; it was never about sex for me...you know, it was about control. I got a bit power-mad. This life as a priest is more suited to me. I will spend the rest of my life atoning for the people that I've hurt and damage that I've caused."
"Okay. I need to see where her head is at, then I'll let you know if you can see her."
"Can I ask for something?"
"Really?"
"Yes, two things actually."
"Don't push your luck.
"May I?" I nodded. "Can I paint her toes?" He asked, and I burst out laughing.
"What is with you and the toes? Is it a foot fetish?"
I began to pick at my food while he turned red. I loved that I could get to him; as a priest, he must not get roasted anymore. He needed to get used to it if he was going to see Ana again, that's for sure.
"When my mother was dying, I wanted her to look pretty for Jesus; painting her nails brought her comfort. Whenever I've wanted to comfort Anita, I've painted her nails...she's never turned me down."
"I guess that's sweet. Ask Dr. Clover; she probably has some."
"Thanks."
Dr. Clover came back in with Amy, who then nodded to me. "She's ready for you."
"What was the other thing?" I asked Marco.
"I want to pray with her...and for her."
"You'll have to ask her for that."
"So I can see her, for certain?"
"Yes."
At that, he looked to Dr. Clover.
"Is she cleared to have a rosary?"
"Yes, she's not a suicide risk."
"Good."
I didn't dare look up at either of them; instead, I moved my brush, comb, and Ana's hair oil to my purse.
When I looked up again, they were both watching the monitor. I'd watch my wife closely, and if she was suicidal, I'd handle it, but I wasn't going to raise any more alarms than I had to.
"Okay, I'm ready." I said to Amy, and she led me away.
The triage unit reminded me of a mental hospital. I immediately felt sick, but then Amy stopped us outside Ana's room and squeezed my shoulders.
"She's in good spirits, still joking, and may try avoiding the subject. I urge you to be fully honest with her, don't worry about hurting her feelings or making things worse; let me and Dr. Clover worry about that. Okay?"
"When you say honest...do you mean our argument yesterday? She told you?"
"She did. Be warned, she won't talk about what happened in the house. I tried. She talked about your fight and everything up to the salon then nothing...and her memory of the after is patchy."
"Wow, okay, so be honest about Lima but don't push what happened?"
"Precisely."
"Will you be in there with us?"
"No, but I'll be right outside the room."
"Do I have a time limit?"
"No, she's not bound by the rules of the center just yet. We want her stable and fully open to care."
"Okay."
"I trust you've met her visitor?"
"Yes."
"What's your decision?"
"I'm going to see how she is, no offense, but I know her better."
"None taken."
"I'm going to make her comfortable, and then when the moment is right, I'm going to bring him in."
"Okay. That's fine."
"Are you ready?"
I hesitated for a second. Did I need to tell her how suicidal Ana had seemed in her journal?
Should I see where her head is first?
Amy had the power to make this worse, and I didn't think Ana could handle that, not yet.
So I swallowed back my fears, for the moment,
"Yes."
Santana's POV
Amy had gotten up to leave, but she did what Dr. Cabot used to call a doorknob question.
I couldn't help but smile at her when she turned to look at me.
"If you won't tell me what happened in the house, will you tell me what happened after our last session up until you're comfortable?"
When Dr. Clover had told me that she had a good friend who was a psychiatrist, I was nervous that they'd get together and talk shit about me, but then I met Amy, something about her reminds me so much of Quinn, there's a level of comfort that she provides that makes me feel safe.
So, I nodded towards the seat she'd just left.
"Okay, I'll try."
She listened while I told her about everything, how I had been so depressed and damned near-suicidal about everything. Then I assured her that suicide was the last thing on my mind, I wouldn't dare.
After I told her about storming out...I stopped talking.
"I'll go get Brittany...and thank you for opening up."
"Thanks for listening."
When she left, I sat there and counted my invisible beads, sending up a quick prayer for some strength.
Amy finally knocked on the door, and I called out.
"Come in!" All while I straightened out my blanket and tried to smile, but when I saw the bloodshot blue eyes with deep circles under them, my smile faded.
"Hey." I said, feeling so small.
"Where can I touch you?" She asked, holding back one of those bone-crushing hugs that she used to always give me.
"Anywhere but the cast."
She held up her purse and then pointed to my head.
"Can I brush your hair?"
"Is it that bad?"
"Yeah. You had blood all over, so you washed it, but you were so out of it at the hospital, I don't think you did a good job...can I...fix it? I brought your hair oil."
"I'd like that."
Britt put her purse down on the side table, then pulled out a comb, brush, and my oil.
Then she fluffed up the pillows behind me so that I was sitting up straighter.
I sighed when she bent down and kissed my cheek.
"You look much better." She whispered. "I've been here every step, I shouldn't have left, but I'm here now. I'm sorry."
I looked at her and could see just how much it hurt her even having to say any of that.
"I want to forgive you for leaving, but I don't blame you for what happened...okay?"
"I still feel guilty...I should have been here."
"I'm sorry too, B...I...was hurt...I sh-should have known that if you were leaving all of a sudden, that it was important. Right?"
"Yeah, but it wasn't as important as keeping you safe."
"Please...I need to know. Why did you go?"
She sat on the edge of the bed and took my hands in hers.
"My parents are about to lose their house. Dad is um..." She dropped her head, and I knew immediately that she didn't want to make things worse for him.
"Just because I'm technically his boss doesn't mean I'll fire him. Tell me." I urged her, and she looked up with fresh tears.
"He was overdoing it, overworking himself because mom lost her job. She took out a second mortgage when he had to have heart surgery."
"She could have asked me. She knows that, and so does he. There no way I would have said no."
"I know."
"B?" She dropped her head, but when I called her, she looked up.
"Yeah?"
"Don't shut me out about things like that. They're my family too. Susan is more, my mom, sometimes than my own...shit, most times. I'd do anything for your parents. If it's about pride, we could have found a way for them to pay us back...or find them somewhere new. There's nothing left in Lima for them anyway."
"I hadn't thought about that...but why are we talking about me? You're all messed up, back in rehab, and hurting."
I waved her off. "I don't want to talk about me right now. I just need something I can fix. Please? Tell me how bad it is for them?"
"I don't know yet. I got to Lima and was about to rent a car when I got the call from Quinn. Luckily, I was able to get a flight back, right away but I never got to see my parents."
"Oh."
"It's fine, I know you're in my corner, and I shouldn't have tried to do this alone. I should have been here...you weren't supposed to be in Brooklyn, you were supposed to be in therapy."
"I was?"
"Yes...I forgot to remind you about the appointment. This is my fault."
"Hey...stop it. This isn't on you. It's all on that asshole."
Britt leaned in and kissed my face, then moved to stand by my side.
"Through everything," I said while she sectioned off my hair, "All I thought about was the kids. Right now, all I want is to be home in bed with the three of you."
"That sounds nice...let me know if I'm hurting you."
"Okay."
She hummed while she parted, oiled, and then brushed each section of my hair.
"I called you when I landed in Dayton; I was going to search for the brightest colored car."
"Eww, like puke green or something?"
"I was thinking more like yellow. Izzy watched the Transformers movies with the bigger boys; he is kind of starting to love the yellow car."
"I haven't seen any of those movies."
"Well, if he gets anything like he's been with Elmo, we will see a lot of that yellow car."
"Good to know that you'll still want me around the kids."
She stopped brushing and twisted my hair into a top knot before sitting on the bed again.
I stared down at my fingers, using the tip of each one like a rosary bead, mentally going over my penances.
"Look at me."
When I looked into her tired eyes, I could still see the love there.
"You'll still keep your promise, right?"
"I will...but I don't want to need to take them from you. I want you to get better, as safely and healthy as you can."
"So you don't think 14 days is enough, either?"
"I'm no professional, Ana...I want you to do what feels right."
"Brittany, please, I...need you to find a balance. I'm not asking you to decide for me, but I do want you to be honest about what you think."
She took a super deep breath and then smiled at me. "I think you need to stay here for as long as it takes, even if that means months instead of weeks." She tried to smile but ended up crying instead, but she didn't wipe the tears away; she just kept on giving me the sweetest smiles.
"Then that's what I'll do. I don't want to do anything that's going to jeopardize our babies; I want to be sober for them and you...and myself."
"Good...that's great news, baby."
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Your mind isn't here...not fully, what is it?"
"How bad did he hurt you?" While I hadn't explicitly told Amy when she asked, this was my wife, who I had just asked to not keep things from me.
"Do you think that you can handle this?"
She nodded and wiped away her tears before taking my hands.
"Please?"
"He threatened to peel Isaac like a grape if I didn't go willingly with him."
Britt's eyes lit up.
"That makes so much more sense; you kept asking for him, over and over, then when you saw him, you kept saying he wasn't a grape."
"Did I?"
"Yes."
"Hmm...the mind is a crazy thing. Anyway, he shoved a needle in my neck, told me whatever it was had my DNA in it from when I was in his office. It's supposed to make dugs more addictive; I don't know what it was, though. He raped me after that. Which wasn't as bad as it could have been. I zoned out and didn't fight; he didn't like my silence, so he whipped me until I screamed. Then he raped me again...all while shoving drugs in front of my face. He wanted me to not be able to testify; he was going to kill me. There's no way he was thinking I'd get out of there...not with what he was giving me. I should be dead but, somehow I'm not. Instead, I started hallucinating more; all I could see was our babies. I started laughing when I remembered Isaac's face after getting his glasses; it made Trent hesitate. When he froze, I grabbed the broken glass, and I stabbed him."
Britt had tears streaming down her face while she rubbed her thumbs over the backs of my hands.
"I love you. I'm so proud of you for finding a way out, baby."
"Proud?!" I was astonished that Britt was looking at me still, with love and trust. "You shouldn't be proud, B. When he was already down, and I blocked the blood with my skirt to keep him alive, there was a line of coke...just sitting there, and I took it...even though he wasn't forcing me."
"That's okay, you were already high, why waste it...right?"
"Yeah."
"You'll stay past 14 days, yes?" She had that look in her eyes; it was determination and control all wrapped up; I had solidified for her that I NEEDED to be in rehab, and she wasn't wrong.
"Yes. This is where I need to be. Thank you for taking charge."
"You're welcome."
"Will you still love me?"
"Every day, forever and always, Ana."
Brittany's POV
Two days had passed since I'd taken meds, and I hadn't remembered until she told me what happened.
I wanted to kill him, but that's not what any of us needed.
Ana looked exhausted after she told me everything, and I didn't blame her for a second.
I had tried making staying in rehab her choice, but once I knew that she snorted that line independently, I knew that she needed more time.
And I didn't care that she knew how I felt. There was no way I was letting her come home to our kids with a raging addiction.
She needed to be her best self for them, and I would make sure of that.
Even if she came home with cravings, it was still better than the junkie she'd once been.
I loved her way too much to let her fall.
So, I gave her the balance that she required.
And when she asked if I'd still love her, I almost laughed in her face because the idea of not loving her never crossed my mind.
I love Santana Lopez. Beyond all understanding, it's what I was made to do.
When she looked at me, expecting me to be yet another person to build her up only to let her down, it made me more determined to do the opposite of that.
"I yelled at your mom." I said, blurting out the one thing that I knew would make her stop thinking about whether I would stick around.
"No way?!"
"Yup, I got mad that she left you in that interrogation room without you seeing her face. I told her that she needed to prove to you how much she loved you instead of just saying it."
"I fucking love you, you know that?"
"Tell me again." I teased.
"I love you."
When I kissed her again, she put more force behind her kiss.
I pulled away and searched her eyes; I needed to know if she was ready for what came next.
"There's something else." I said, moving even closer so that I could cradle her beautiful face.
"What is it?"
"You have a visitor."
"Who?"
"Um...well...you can't freak out."
She rolled her eyes, "That's like the number one thing that you don't say when you want someone to stay calm."
"Right, well, I'm just going to say it then."
"Okay, tell me."
"Marco."
She sat there stunned, with her eyes wide and her brows all scrunchy.
"I have his ashes, B...don't I?"
"Apparently not."
"He came to see me...why?"
"I think he should tell you...and he wants to paint your toes."
"Of course he does, weirdo. As long as you don't leave me alone with him...or any other man for that matter, I'll be fine."
"I won't leave your side for a second unless I really have to pee."
"Maybe go pee first."
"You have your own bathroom?" She nodded towards a corner of the room that was a stall with no door. Luckily it faced away from the doorway. I felt shy but still went over and peed, then washed my hands before knocking on the door. The whole time Ana looked nervous.
The door opened a crack, then Amy slid inside and smiled at us both.
"Everything alright in here?"
"She's ready to see him."
"Great, he's been hovering out there praying for about ten minutes...it's weird considering everything I know about him." Amy whispered with a wink to Ana. "Do you need anything, Santana?"
"Yes."
"What do you need?"
"I need something." She said, dropping her eyes. "It hurts, please?" Amy looked at her watch, and then she hit the nurse page.
Seconds later, a nurse came in with a tray.
"Sorry, sorry, the last nurse forgot to set a timer. It's been four hours, which means a reload of the whole slate."
Amy stood close by while the nurse set two little paper cups on the table next to my wife.
She patiently changed out the IV bag, then explained that this would be the last until her vital check before dinner.
Then she handed the cups over and watched Ana take them.
Once that was over, Amy left with the nurse.
"How bad are the cravings?" I asked, and she shrugged.
"I feel like...like I'd do anything to feel high again." She admitted as the door opened. When she looked at Marco, her face turned from sad to thrilled. "Oh, this is rich! I am not calling you father. That's out of the question. Is this real?"
"It is." He said, but he did not come any closer. "Dr. Clover had acetone and red polish...still like that color?" He asked, and Ana nodded, stunned that he wasn't responding with snark. He pulled up a chair and then looked at me. "Brittany, would you mind uncovering her feet? I'm not trying to cross any lines."
"Marco Vega, you have seen every part of my body, don't get modest just because you're wearing a collar now." Ana teased, and he just smiled in return.
"You have had more than enough disrespect from me, Santana. It will take time for you to adjust to me walking a different path; I plan to atone for all my wrongs."
I pulled back the covers, revealing my wife's very ashy feet. Marco didn't even make fun of her. I found some hand lotion and gave it to him; he nodded and then began to remove the two-day-old pedicure that she'd gone all the way to Brooklyn for. Suddenly, the nail painting took on even more meaning, and I wasn't afraid to call him out on it.
"You knew about the nail salon; is this a part of erasing that day?"
"If it is, I'll take it." Ana said, and then she reached for my hand. She groaned as she moved, which took my focus from Marco to her. "Baby, I need you closer."
I squeezed next to Ana as much as possible and watched her hit Marco with just about every question I had asked him.
And he repeated everything word for word.
There was something peaceful about him being there.
It's a feeling that I can barely describe.
That night after final doses and Marco handing over his most cherished rosary from his mother, I sat with my wife and prayed with her.
Her fingers were shaking less as they slid over the beads.
Even though I didn't have a time limit, I had been away from the kids for nearly three days, and I knew they were missing us.
I couldn't stay away just to keep watch over Ana; she was safe there, away from all the outside influences.
But I was still worried.
After she finished praying, she squeezed my hands tight.
"You need to go home."
"I know."
"When you get there, hug them and kiss them a whole bunch. Maybe let them sleep in the bed with you; they'll be wanting to know where I am. Tell them that Mami had to get her boo-boo's fixed. Can you remember that?"
"Yes."
"Good, after they are asleep, I want you to call Walker and have her bring Rob to me."
"Here?"
"Yes, I'm allowed visitation as long as I'm in triage. The moment I enter the program, the 90-day visitation rule goes into effect."
"Are you going to do that?"
"I don't know if I can go 90 days, B. I'm going to see how I am at 14 days...maybe I'll stay until 30. I can't do more than that; I've missed enough time with our kids. I don't want to miss anything else if I can help it."
"That means that you're going to need to kick ass at this getting sober thing. Do everything they ask and don't fight the people helping you."
"Okay."
"And Ana?"
"Yes, babe?"
"I love you, now and forever. Don't you dare think about making our forever short, do you understand?"
"You read Henry."
"I did...it took me two days, but I read every word."
"It gets dark, but there are light moments."
"And sappy, and dorky, but in the last few, you seemed like you wanted to jump off a bridge."
She kissed me, then looked into my eyes, her dark pools full of so much light. "I have walked through hell to stay alive. He could have killed me, and I fought, not for me but for you and the kids. I'm not going anywhere, and I put that on everything."
It was only then that I buried my face in her neck and let her rub my back; she inhaled my hair and kept kissing my head.
"Te amo, Santana." I whispered.
"Te amo, Brittany. Te quiero tanto, Mi Vida. Te amo, para siempre."
I kissed her with everything I had while fully aware that she was still hurting and healing; she kissed me like I was her lifeline.
There was a beep and then an intercom scratch.
"Ladies, this is Amy speaking. There are cameras; let's try not to make another sex tape. Yes?"
We burst into a fit of giggles. Ana held her side as she laughed with her whole body.
It was the greatest sound ever, by God; I never wanted to stop hearing that laugh.