Chapter 2: Cough It Out
A.N. Santana's list is not necessarily in chronological order.
Quinn should have known that Santana wasn't going to give them a chance to breathe once they had gotten settled in her room.
She tried to take some of the pressure off by occupying herself with picking up Beth's toys. It's the first and last time she thanks her daughter for being a slob.
Santana plopped down on what she assumed was Quinn's bed. She placed her hands in her lap and waited for one of them to accidentally make eye contact first. It's Quinn because of course, it is.
"Why are you two here anyway? I'd get it if we ran into each other back in the states, but fucking Madrid? Are you two stalking me?" Of course in her rational psychologist's brain, she knows that isn't the case but her teenage angst brain is telling her otherwise.
Rachel let out a chuckle, "Don't flatter yourself, Santana. I'm here for the same reason you probably are. Vacation."
Quinn nodded in agreement, "I let Beth throw darts at a map and this is where one landed. All a coincidence."
Santana's silence is taken as a concession, however, it's only a matter of seconds until she starts speaking again. This time her voice slightly less accusatory and a bit sadder. "Where have you been? I thought we said we'd have each other's backs. What happened to that?"
"The phone works both ways, Santana." Quinn huffed with an indignant cross of her arms. She casually shuffled to the window. Peering out to check on her daughter.
"That's not fair and you know it, Quinn. Besides, Bob Ross' Canvas over here changed her number." Rachel rolled her eyes and flopped backward onto the hotel bed.
"What's with all the hostility? All seems mighty hypocritical if you ask me." The statement is nonchalant as it leaves her slightly chapped lips. She chuckles as the fury in Santana's eyes settles into her bones and she gets ready to launch herself at the tattooed girl.
She's narrowly stopped by Quinn's arms wrapping around her waist and a few words whispered in her ear.
"I know she's being a real asshole right now, but you can't get your answers if you kill her. Calm down, Ace."
Santana calms at the childhood nickname, not because she wants to but because it's almost as if she has no choice. And if that doesn't set her on edge...
"Fine. I'm listening."
It took Rachel a moment to realize they were actually waiting for her to speak on her whereabouts.
"I thought I was making it obvious I didn't want to talk about it." Her lips pursed as soon as she spoke, cleverly making sure not to make eye contact with either one of the older girls.
"Well clearly none of us have been so lucky as to get what we want, Rachel." Santana's jaw clenched.
"I've been with my mother. In and out of the states. Mainly New York. About a week before the end of our senior year, some things happened and I've been with her ever since." It's obvious that was all Rachel was going to elaborate on, causing Santana to let out a dissatisfied huff.
"Would those things have anything to do with Finn being out those last few days too?" Quinn asked with a curious eyebrow raise.
Rachel shrugged noncommittally, "Not in the way you think, but he may have something to do with it. He always was slow."
"Thank you, Rachel, for that truly informative dissertation you just gave us. Your turn, Quinn. Why'd you abandon me too?"
"Santana. I didn't abandon you and you know that."
"Then, what do you call me calling you three times a week for just about every month after we graduated and never receiving an answer?" Santana's ears turned a violent scarlet as an accessory to her frustration. The genuinely confused look on her former Captain's face slowly pushed the rest of the color through her body and straight into her head were it settled into a massive migraine.
"Y-you never called me, Santana." A sense of impending dread seeps into Quinn's head. The hope that Santana must have had the wrong number sits on her sweaty palms just as tangible as the sadness dripping off of Santana and the concern masked as curiosity wafting from Rachel.
"Yes, I did. I called you on your birthday, I called you on Beth's birthday, I called you when I dropped out of school, I called you when I broke up with Brittany, I called you when I moved in with Kurt, I called you when I got back together with Brittany then married her for some reason only to be surprised when we got it annulled. I called you when I got into NYU. And I even called you when my Abuela died even though I knew you wouldn't fucking pick up at that point."
Quinn pretends not to notice Rachel grip the bedding and scowl at the side of her head when angry tears start to fall from Santana's brown eyes.
Rachel was being an asshole, she'll admit, but at least she hadn't made Santana cry.
"San-"
Quinn has to all but duck out of the way of the iPhone charging at her head, "Fucking check, Q. You've had the same number since we were thirteen. I know that thing by heart."
Quinn does end up checking even though she thinks it may be a trap. Her heavy sigh pushes her back unto the bed with a flop at the reassurance it is the right number, which of course means the nightmare theory is correct instead of that nice laughable one.
"It was my ex. All through college, I would leave my phone on silent during class and once I got back to my dorm my ex, who was also my roommate, would check it and pretty much delete anything that wasn't my mom or Beth because she was an overbearing asshole. After I broke up with her I got a new phone and I guess not all of the contacts transferred. I'm so sorry, San. I should've called you. I-I didn't know." That was such a stupid excuse, and she knew it, but it was the only one she had, which made her feel even worse.
"I showed up at your dorm after I moved to New York because I had a little extra money for a train ticket. I was so excited because for once I was happy and I wanted to tell you. I knocked on your door after sneaking in the hall behind someone. Some hot, tall redhead opened the door and said you weren't there. She said she'd "leave a message" which is pretty much all I had been hearing at that point so I left. " And at that, it's as if Quinn's heart shatters into a million pieces.
"Oh, God. I heard you. I fucking heard you. I was in the gotdamn shower." Quinn slapped her hands over her face.
"Then why didn't you say anything."
Quinn lets out a dissatisfied chuckle," Would you believe me if I said I thought I was dreaming?"
It's Rachel that answers her rhetorical question with a sad, wistful look, "Yes."
"I was praying for just about anything to get me out of that relationship at that point and your voice seemed just a little too good to be true. God, I'm so sorry. I should've never let her manipulate me the way she did. Fucking Faith Manchester! Almost 6 years later and she's still ruining my life."
Rachel stiffens, "Wait, Faith Manchester? Tall redhead with almost startling green eyes and freckles in odd spots?"
Quinn raised a tired eyebrow, "Yeah...you know her?"
"Unfortunately. Look, I have to go. Nice catch up. Let's do it again sometime." Rachel practically scurried for the door, only for Santana to somehow catch her by the collar.
"Not so fast, Mysterio. Give me your phone."
Rachel looked torn for a minute or two before giving Santana her mobile device. Santana uses the electronic to send herself and Quinn a text.
"We'll be in touch." Is all she says before she lets Rachel go.
Rachel hurries out the door almost running over Quinn's family in the process.
"Hi, Mrs. Fabray. Bye, Mrs. Fabray."
The aging woman walks into the room with her granddaughter and husband, a confused look painting her face.
"Was that-" She stops short of finishing, noticing the company.
"Mom, you remember Santana don't you?" Quinn stands up and gestures to the still bikini clad woman.
"Oh how could I forget about the girl my daughter would babble about and drool over in her sleep. Just as beautiful as ever if not more." Judy pulled Santana into a hug reminiscent of the ones her own mother gave.
"I'm sorry, what was that, Mother?!"
"Nothing. Nothing, Quinnie. I hope we weren't interrupting anything." Judy released Santana though it seemed to be reluctant.
"Oh, no. Ms. Fabray. I was just leaving. Q, Rachel, and I were just catching up."
"Oh, Darling, none of that Fabray mess. It's Housewright, now. Besides, you can call me Judy."
Santana nods with a polite smile, she takes a glance at Beth and smiles at the girl staring up at her in awe.
"Nice job, Cap. She looks just like you. Beautiful." Both blondes in question blush identically.
"Thanks, Santana. I'll-um-see you later." Quinn walked the latina to the door slowly.
Santana just nods decisively as she leaves. She can feel Quinn's eyes burning into her as she retreats.
Quinn has to catch her breath before turning back into the room.
"Mom, she's like really pretty." Beth surmised as she scrambled her toys back onto the floor simply because she could.
"You're preaching to the choir, kid."