Two days.
For two days you have ignored everyone and everything going on in your life at the moment. You curtly told Kurt that you were okay enough to work, but have ignored him also, only addressing him for work related conversations. You ignored Quinn, your grandmother and Holly Holiday. You ignored your mental turmoil, your conflicted feelings, and all the beautiful memories the simple sight of Brittany brought back to your mind. You know you shouldn't do this, you have worked your whole life to get better at acknowledging your feelings and shit, but you cut yourself some slack. You allowed yourself to close off and block everything. You allowed yourself to breathe. Completely against Will Schuester's advice, and completely against your whole new found maturity or whatever, you allowed yourself to be tough.
Turns out it worked.
Your wild thoughts and stupid feelings have calmed down, and now you are able to think clearly. Now, you are able to plan your course of action.
Things with Dani are...they just are. If anyone asked you that question, you would say things are perfectly fine between you and your wife, but in all honesty, that's the one of the fattest lies you have ever even thought of saying. You have felt into a cordial dynamic, you are not fighting, nor are you avoiding each other, but thinking about it coldly...you haven't even kissed her in two days. She's back sleeping in your bed instead of the couch, but you keep your distance from each other.
You miss her, sometimes when you are together it feels like she wasn't even in the room, even if physically she was, but you needed to step away, and she has been respectful of your needs, as she always is. You swear, she is an angel.
You are having a day off. No work, no gig with your band and Dani has taken the dogs to the groomer, where she will most likely spend most of her day, they are big dogs after all. So you are all alone on a Sunday morning, wandering through your home only wearing underwear, when you decide to go to Saint Mary's. It's not premeditated, it's not something you have thought about doing (even if you know you had to at some point), it's just something that you suddenly need.
Shrugging your shoulders you strut to your bedroom to get clothed, choosing a black pencil skirt and a simple button-up white blouse, and very basic black high heels as your outfit. You let your hair loose, flowing kind of messily over your shoulders, and you completely forego makeup. Why? Because if you sit down and spend time dolling yourself up, you might lose your resolve.
Half an hour later, you saunter your way into Saint Mary's hospital and towards Dr. Holiday's office. You have finally learnt your way there. You knock on her door softly, and when she opens it, you see how her eyes light up as she realises it's you.
"Why, hello there, doll." She mutters almost bemusedly, winking at you. "I was waiting for your visit..." she adds knowingly.
You nod once, drily as you step into her office and take a seat. You wanted to go directly to Brittany's room, but with your medical upbringing and having being always at hospitals, you knew better. You also imagined Holly had some news, since she's been calling you non-stop for two days. So you sit down and wait without saying a word.
"Back to the silent treatment, huh?" she snickers and you shrug your shoulders as she sits across from you. "Ah...Brittany has had some...complications..." she says and you gulp, raising your eyebrow and waiting for her to elaborate. "She is mostly fine, but she does have mild brain damage. Her memory seems to be failing her, she says she loses sight on her right eye from time to time, and she hasn't been able to resolve any basic mathematics problems."
Holly takes a second to evaluate how you take the news. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and slump slightly on your chair. After a couple of seconds, she speaks again.
"None of that is extremely concerning to us. It's not too severe, nor uncommon to have this kind of symptoms, especially after bad car accidents like hers, but we need to monitor her evolution. If her own body is able to say, "fix" itself, she should be back to normal and perfectly okay in a couple weeks tops. But if she doesn't...the damage might be permanent." She concludes with a sad sigh.
You sigh too.
"Can I see her?" Third time wouldn't be the charm when you suddenly would acknowledge everything the doctor told you, of course not.
You kind of enjoy this dynamic with Dr. Holiday though. You are aware that she knows that you listen to her every word even if you don't say so, but you need your time to process and internalise it, and she lets you have as much as you need. She is a great doctor. You know Brittany is in very good hands.
Holly takes you once again to Brittany's room, and when you enter, you can't help but smile.
The blonde is sitting on the chair next to her bed (Dr. Holiday mentioned in a voice message she left you that they were letting Brittany to start wandering around and moving a little on her own, to help her recovery she said), her casted perched upon the bed, reading what seemed to be a children book. She had a fluffy teddy bear over her lap and you wondered if anyone else was visiting her, since that thing wasn't there before.
Her heart monitor is beeping calmly, and you check involuntarily her IV drips. The whole scene is weirdly calming. Brittany is humming a tune you don't recognise at first, but when it hits you, you almost faint. She's humming one of few original songs that Pamela Lansbury (your band, remember?) has released.
You want to be super ninja-like sneaky, but the moment the door clicks softly as you close it, she looks up and beams at you like you were the best thing in the world.
"Santana." She breathes out, her pupils blowing as she takes you in. She looks like she doesn't completely believe you are real. "Are you feeling better?". She asks and you frown, confused.
Ah, the last time you visited.
"Yes, thank you for asking." You answer shortly, nodding your head.
"Come here, I won't bite you," she mutters, seeing that you are still standing by the closed door.
You don't want to flee again, you are fighting it with all your heart, but you also aren't sure if you could take being closer to her. You relent though, and take some tentative steps towards her.
"You look beautiful, Santana." She adds, not moving her eyes away from you. It's a little bit intimidating, the way she's gazing you, and it's making you feel all warm inside. Your tummy is churning again, but you don't think it will cause you to throw up this time, and the closer you get to her, the more things you notice.
Her eyes are just as blue as you remember, but she seems to have more freckles. She is thinner than the last time you saw each other, but her lean and taut muscles are intact as far as you can see. She has aged well. Very well. She still has this innocent aura surrounding her, but her features are more mature, she looks older in the best way, grown up. She looks absolutely fantastic.
You don't know how, or when, or why, but next thing you know is that you are kneeling in front of her to be more or less at the same level she is, and you are falling into her arms, hugging her as tightly as you can while you mind her wounds and try not to hurt her.
Your face lands on the crook of her neck and her flowery, fresh, almost minty scent invades your nostrils, her hair brushes your cheeks and her good arm palms your back almost possessively.
That very moment you know there's no turning back. The Pandora box has officially been opened.
It's going to be a bumpy ride.