-Chapter 2-

The days passed slowly, the sun rose and fell. But Santana didn't notice. Her eyes were fixated on few things. That Sunday she had turned her brain on enough to call her boss at home and explain what was going on. Surprisingly sympathetic for a boss in a major corporation, he told her to figure out what she needed to do through the rest of the day and to call him on Monday. Santana was able to access her time sheet from her phone and calculate all of her vacation and sick days. She would use them all if she had to.

Nurses became known on a first-name basis as did the cleaning staff and the cafeteria workers. Within five days of the accident, the lawyers for Brittany's dance company called and said that the harness company would be paying for all medical expenses relating to Brittany's injury as well as Brittany's salary for a year to avoid a bigger lawsuit. All Santana had to do was sign the settlement papers. She did it against the advice of her own lawyer, only to avoid being tied up in court rooms when she knew Brittany would need her.

Aside from visits by the lawyers and Brittany's friends and co-stars, the outside world stopped existing to Santana. What existed were the ICU walls, hospital shower rooms, and the cafeteria. John and Anna stayed in Santana and Brittany's apartment while the Latina slept on a couch in the lounge since the hospital policy forbid anyone from staying in the ICU rooms. Santana was practically numb as she watched the rising and falling of the sun. The only reality she wanted was sedated in a hospital bed.

XXXXXXXXXX

One day, when the sun rose, the doctor stopped Brittany's sedation medication and Santana waited. She waited for eyelids to flutter open and Brittany's bright blue eyes to meet hers and to tell her she loved her. She waited for Brittany to spring out of bed and start dancing. She waited. The sun fell and she still waited. The sun rose again and Santana still waited.

The sun was covered with storm clouds and it was thundering. The only thing Santana was watching, though, were Brittany's eyes. Underneath her eyelids her eyes had been darting back and forth for two hours. John and Anna, clearly breaking the two people to a room rule (the nurses had stopped trying to enforce it after a few days), had their focus exactly the same as Santana's.

For one brief moment, Santana's eyes flickered away from Brittany's and to the wall clock. It was 2:16pm. When her eyes flickered back to Brittany's the blonde's eyes had stopped moving but something else had started. Slowly, bright blue eyes began appearing as Brittany opened her eyelids. Knowing that the blonde would most likely wake up petrified, Santana stood and hovered right in her line of vision, ensuring that she'd be the first thing Brittany saw. Immediately, bright blue connected with dark brown. There was confusion and fear behind Brittany's eyes and tears started forming. Santana's hand immediately went to the top of Brittany's head and began stroking her hair to comfort her girl.

"It's okay, babe," Santana whispered. "Don't try to move or talk, okay? I'm right here."

In a few minutes a nurse was in Brittany's room and the blonde's eyes shifted to her.

"We'll get Dr. Harris up here as soon as we can."

Santana nodded and mouthed an okay, her attention going right back to Brittany. The blonde's eyes were still filled with fear and now questions as they moved between her parents and Santana. Knowing it was up to her, Santana took a deep breath and began whispering.

"There was an accident," Santana said. "You fell...you broke your neck, B." The heart monitors above Santana's head began to beep a little more rapidly, Brittany swallowed hard and the tears that had begun forming were now dripping down her face. Her mother wiped them away cautiously, avoiding the bars of the neck brace. "They fixed as much as they could but...but they won't know if it worked for a while. The doctor is going to come in and see you in a little while, okay?"

Despite Santana's orders, Brittany tried speaking but all she could manage was barely a whisper.

"Dance."

It almost killed Santana. The one word almost hurt her more than all of the emotions in the last week. The one thing that Brittany loved almost as much as Santana and her family...and Santana had to tell her that she wasn't sure if it could ever happen again. With tears in her eyes, she had to confirm what was probably one of Brittany's worst nightmares.

"I don't know, Britt."

Dr. Harris stepped in just as Brittany tore her eyes away from Santana and stared back up at the ceiling, tears rolling out of the corners of her eyes. The doctor waited at Santana's "one minute" hand gesture as she helped Anna wipe away Brittany's tears.

"Brittany, my name is Dr. Harris," the man said, stepping into the room and into Brittany's line of sight. "I don't want you to talk right now, just do as I say. I want you to blink one time if you understand that."

Brittany blinked once.

"You sustained serious damage to your spine, Brittany," the doctor said calmly. "We had to do surgery on your neck and take a piece of bone from your hip and use titanium plates and screws to repair the damage. We won't know for a while the extent of the damage to your spinal cord. You're in a brace right now to keep you from moving. Blink twice if you understand that."

Brittany blinked twice.

"Alright, we're going to try some talking. Can you try to say your name?"

"Brittany," the blonde choked.

"Very good." The doctor pulled back the blankets to reveal both of Brittany's hands, an IV sticking out of the back of her right one as it had for the last week. "I want you to wiggle the fingers on your left hand."

Santana almost said something about Brittany not really knowing her rights from her lefts but when she glanced at Brittany's other hand there was no movement there, either. It put the knot back in her stomach that had only disappeared minutes before when Brittany opened her eyes.

"Right hand, Ms. Pierce?"

Still nothing.

"Move either one of your arms, Brittany."

Again, nothing.

The tears that slipped down Santana's cheeks immediately went from hopeful to crushed.

Dr. Harris pulled the blankets back up over the blonde's arms and went to the computer in her room and started typing, a few disappointed sighs coming from his direction. Santana waited patiently. It was all she could do. When the ticking stopped, Dr. Harris pulled a metal probe out of one of the drawers and pulled the blankets at the bottom of Brittany's bed up exposing her bare feet. If she could see them, Santana was sure Brittany would ask her for a pedicure, as the polish had been taken off by one of the nurses during one of Brittany's mild sponge baths. There would be time for that later.

Santana watched the doctor run the probe up the length of the blonde's foot. Nothing happened. Same with the other. Santana wasn't sure what he was looking for but the non-response scared her. The doctor's frown scared her even more. By the time Santana looked back to Brittany's eyes they were closed, her mouth open and chin trembling. She was trying desperately not to cry even more.

"What's going on?" Santana finally managed to choke out.

"Right now," the doctor sighed walking back up to Brittany's line of sight, "Brittany, your extremities are unresponsive. That's not to say it won't get better. You've been unconscious for days; your brain needs time to start up again. We're going to try again tomorrow, alright?"

"Okay," Brittany whispered.

"I'm going to have a nurse get you some water, I know you're probably thirsty."

"Yeah."

Dr. Harris patted Santana on the shoulder, a reassuring gesture that barely eased her nerves. There was no reassurance possible at this point. How could there be when, in a matter of seconds, her entire life had been changed. She had always been Brittany's protector, her caretaker. The meaning of those words had just taken on an entirely new definition. But Santana was more than willing to do it.

"San?"

The brunette's head snapped back to the soft voice from the bed, breaking her own thoughts and again focusing solely on her girlfriend.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. I meant it, Britt. I'm not going anywhere, got it?"

Brittany only closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she reopened them, her eyes focused on the bars surrounding her head and what she could see of the hospital room, trying to take in her surroundings. Santana let her have her quiet and took Brittany's hand under the blanket, squeezing gently. She perked up when Brittany's eyebrows furrowed and she attempted to look down.

"Did you feel that?" Santana asked, breath catching in her throat.

"I think so."

Swallowing hard and with a heart full of hope, Santana squeezed again. This time, Brittany smiled.

"I felt it," Brittany stated.

"That's better than nothing."

That's what the physical therapist told them, too. Her name was Delilah, Santana had seen her on the floor with some of the other patients. Her blonde hair sported blue streaks and bits of tattoos poked out from underneath the sleeves of her scrubs. She looked small but Santana had seen her help lift a man that was twice her size so she knew the girl could hold her own.

Delilah came in twice a day and moved Brittany's legs to keep the blood flowing and keep her joints from stiffening. The cuffs on her legs helped, yes, Delilah had told them, but movement was the best thing for blood flow. She tested for feeling with what looked like a large, blunt needle. Santana smiled every time Brittany said "ow" when Delilah would poke her arms.

With the initial tests, Delilah bent Brittany's arm at the elbow and tried to get her to hold it. Santana saw the determination in Brittany's eyes as she tried her best to keep her elbow bent. When her arm dropped, determination was replaced with disappointment. She made Santana lift her arm every hour to try again and again but never with a different result.

"One step at a time," Santana said, both to Brittany and herself.

"I want to dance."

"I know, babe. I know."

Despite the disappointment, Brittany didn't give up. It only took three days for Brittany to squeeze Santana's hand to the point that it hurt a little. Her arm strength seemed to come back quickly, she met milestones day after day: moving her wrists, bending her elbows, holding up against pressure.

Ten days after the fall, John left to go back to Lima and his job for a few weeks while Anna stayed in New York. Brittany practically forced Santana to go back to their apartment at night, threatening to have the gnome in their hall closet start re-arranging the refrigerator (one of Santana's biggest pet peeves). Santana obliged but only because her back wasn't going to take much of that couch any longer and there were bills to be paid.

After two weeks, Dr. Harris concluded that Brittany was stable enough to be moved to the long-term care ward of the hospital. While it meant getting out of the ICU, Santana wasn't too thrilled about the "long-term" part of his idea. The Latina had been looking in to home health care Columbus, the closest large city to Lima, knowing that Brittany would be more comfortable closer to family. Staying at the hospital and even in New York "long term" wasn't part of her plan anymore.

After Brittany was settled into her new room, Santana pulled Anna and Dr. Harris into the hallway while Delilah started Brittany's stretches.

"I want to take her home," Santana said. "To Ohio. I've been researching-"

"Santana, she can't be moved that far," Dr. Harris cut her off. "It will be two months at least before I'm comfortable with transferring her anywhere that isn't in this building. Roads are bumpy, there would be turbulence in the air if we flew her and it could seriously compromise all of the work we've done."

Santana growled. "You don't understand," she pleaded. "I only have one more week of paid leave. I can't leave her but I can't quit my job if we're living here."

"I won't sign off on it, Ms. Lopez. No doctor in their right mind would agree to move her that far this soon. I'm sorry."

All Santana could do was nod. There was no alternative plan in her mind. All she had been focusing on was getting Brittany back to Ohio. As Dr. Harris walked away Santana's shoulders dropped, her hope for getting Brittany out of there practically shattered.

"With her salary I can maybe get a smaller place for a while," Santana sighed. "I'll get my two weeks notice-"

"Honey, you can't quit your job," Anna said. "You need to go back to work. You'll drive yourself crazy if you keep staying here."

Santana snapped her head back up, almost angry at Brittany's mother for even thinking of suggesting that she not be at the hospital. Crossing her arms over her chest, the Latina went into defense mode. She was staying with Brittany.

"You're here just as much as I am."

"John is coming back next week and I'll be going back to Lima. Brittany will understand that you have to work."

"It's up to her," she finally said. "Whatever Brittany wants."

Brittany, of course, insisted that Santana go back to work. Despite almost an hour of arguing and trying to prove to the blonde that Santana could survive on one salary if only she downsized to a smaller apartment and stopped eating, there was no changing Brittany's mind.

"Go to work, San," she said, squeezing her girlfriend's hand. "You smell like the hospital. I like it better when you smell like money."

It was always hard to argue with Brittany's logic. Working in the top offices of a bank had its perks and one of them was that, as Brittany had noticed right after Santana took the job, was that the building always smelled like fresh stacks of money. And that, for some reason, was one of Brittany's most favorite smells. That and shoe polish.

Santana's first day back was a Wednesday. It took Anna and a nurse to practically drag her out of the hospital that morning to walk across the street. She was back at lunch and immediately after five o'clock, despite having hours of catching up to do sitting on her desk.