A/N: Thank youso much for reading! I truly appreciate it when even one person reads what I write, so thank you for your favorites/follows/reviews! Here's Chapter Two; it's a little rough, but I have lots planned for later on if you just bear with me :) This story is un-betaed, so all mistakes and redundancies are mine.

Chapter Two

Santana couldn't remember the drive to the emergency room. She found the entrance in a daze, following all the signs highlighted in a bright, fire alarm red. Santana asked the nurse staffing the front desk where the right room was, and was directed to Room Seven.

"Can you…can you tell me anything about her? Before I go in there and get assaulted by everything going on in there…what's going on?"

"I can't, I'm afraid. I don't know anything about the case. One of the nurses in there should be able to explain everything to you," the nurse answered as she guided Santana in the right direction.

Santana approached the room and read the label next to the glass doors.

"Critical Care," She said under her breath. "Shit."

She took a deep breath as she took in the stark white room in front of her before she made her presence known. There was a lot of noise in the room- doctors and nurses were running around, crowding the bed in the center.

Santana couldn't see Brittany's face, but she saw her hand- the engagement ring was still there, shining as brightly as ever. The sight of it made all the air go out of Santana's lungs, like someone had just kicked her square in the chest. Her surroundings assaulted Santana, seeming to grow louder and louder around her as she stared at the ring she had so carefully chosen for Brittany.

There were a lot of strange terms being tossed around the room. Terms that Santana had only heard on TV, spoken by a doctor with great hair and a charming smile while someone was in the midst of a crisis.

Santana knocked lightly.

"Santana?" someone asked. A nurse broke away from the pack and came over.

"Y-yeah." Santana felt a lump form in her throat. She looked around the room and tried to catch a glimpse of exactly what was going on. "What's happening to her? How bad was the accident?"

"Someone hit the driver's side of Brittany's car as she was driving on the highway. We're all working to stabilize her right now, but it looks like her injuries are pretty severe."

"N-no…" Santana's stomach was starting to turn. The nurse rested a hand on Santana's arm.

"Why don't you go sit down, Santana."

Santana shook her head. "I think I'll stay here…" Her head was starting to spin a little as everything became real. She furrowed her brows, trying to make everything slow down a little. She tried to move into the room, but before she knew what had hit her, she started to fall. The nurse caught Santana before she passed out on the floor and helped her into a chair that was against the wall.

The doctors and nurses went about trying to stabilize Brittany as Santana sat in her chair and looked on, trying to fight the alternating waves of dizziness and nausea that kept crashing over her. She hugged her knees close to her chest and waited, pulling the sleeves of Brittany's favorite sweatshirt down over her hands nervously.

"Let's get her moving, is an OR ready?" one of the doctors in the room asked. Everyone started moving out of the room, and Santana felt her breath catch.

"Whoa whoa whoa, what's going on?" Santana said indignantly, standing up so quickly she lost her balance again. She still had no idea what was happening, why everyone was so on edge, if Brittany was even going to make it. Hell, she hadn't even been able to really see Brittany yet. Tears started to sting the corners of Santana's eyes and she was immediately furious with herself.

You can't do this right now. She needs you to be strong for her, not a crying mess, she thought angrily.

"Santana, why don't you come with me," the doctor turned to face her as the nurses prepared to move Brittany. "My name is Dr. Carson, I'm the neurosurgeon on call. We'll walk and talk, okay? I need to get to the operating room as soon as possible."

Santana's eyes widened a little as he introduced himself. A neurosurgeon?

They waited a couple minutes for the room to clear out. Santana caught a glimpse of Brittany as she was moved out of the room; her hair was a mess around her face, something was breathing for her, and she seemed to be bleeding everywhere. Santana felt her knees start to go weak again, but started walking with the doctor.

As they walked, Dr. Carson explained the situation. It took him the whole walk to explain the severity of Brittany's injuries in such a way that everything made sense. The other driver had been drinking and going way over the speed limit when he hit Brittany; the speed coupled with exactly where he hit the car had caused internal injuries, as well as injuries to her nervous system.

"She is being taken up to surgery right now. I'll take you to the waiting room, and we'll let you know when we've finished. Any questions?" the doctor asked as they approached the operating rooms.

"So you're telling me…" Santana began after Dr. Carson had finished, "the internal injuries are serious, but fixable? Bleeding, broken ribs, internal damage?"

Dr. Carson nodded, but Santana could sense some hesitation, as if he was contemplating whether or not to deliver the fatal blow..

"But her other injuries…" Santana prompted.

The doctor sighed. "We are significantly more concerned about are the injuries to her spine and head. Her brain scans showed no sign of bleeding or trauma, but it seems like she's sustained a concussion. Those take time to heal, but are treatable."

"Well, that's good…but her spine?"

"That's where the majority of my work will happen tonight. Her symptoms in the field and test results are consistent with a spinal cord injury. We won't know how severe an injury it is until we can get in there surgically. The main goal of this surgery will be for me to try and relieve as much pressure as possible on Brittany's spine, which will hopefully keep the damage to a minimum."

"What does that mean for her?" Santana tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone bone dry. She tried to keep her breathing level as the doctor told her what that could mean later on.

"Until the injury is stabilized, we won't know how badly her spinal cord is damaged. We know the location of the injury, but not the severity."

"It's her spine, though…does that mean anything for sure?"

"Because her spinal cord was injured, that does mean long-term effects are certain."

"Long-term effects…like she could be paralyzed?" Santana's mind flashed immediately to Artie and the accident that had changed his life when he was just a kid. To Quinn and the accident that very nearly changed her life forever in high school. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear what the doctor was going to say.

"Worst-case? Yes, she could be paralyzed."

XXXXXXXX

Santana spent hours in the hospital waiting room. She paced, tried to eat, looked through a few ancient housekeeping magazines, and paced some more. After two hours of waiting, Santana decided she should call Quinn. She sat down and pulled up the contact in her phone with shaking hands.

Quinn answered on the third ring.

"Lopez, this had better be good…" Quinn growled. "I've got a huge exam in the morning."

"Awww, med student needs her sleep, huh?" Santana snapped back. "How quickly can you get up here?" She stood up and continued to pace, biting a nail nervously as she spoke.

"The exam is at eight, there are probably late morning flights I could catch…" Quinn paused. "Hold on…Santana, what the hell is going on? It's like two in the morning, why the fuckdo you want me to come to Boston on a whim?" Quinn kept her voice quiet as she spoke, her tone equal parts confused and irritated.

"It's not a whim. I'm not asking you to hop on a plane so we can have a girls' weekend," Santana hissed, her tone a lot nastier than she had intended. She didn't have the patience or energy to deal with a sleep-deprived Quinn. "I needyou here. Now.There's been…there's been an accident." With those four words, all of Santana's energy seemed to drain out of her like a plug had been pulled. She slumped down in a chair and rested her forehead in her free hand.

"Brittany?" Quinn breathed in horror.

"Y-yeah," Santana felt her chest tighten and knew there was nothing she could do now that could stop the tears. "She's in surgery. Has been for a couple hours now." She felt the first hot tears cascade down her cheeks as she held the phone to her ear.

"Santana, what happened?"

"She was coming home from work and some fucking moron…he hit her car. The car flipped, and now…she could die, Q. And I don't…I don't know what to do…" Santana's voice trailed off, and Quinn knew she had to go. She flipped the covers back on her bed and stood up, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, suddenly wide awake. She crossed to her closet and pulled down a duffel bag. The other sleeping figure in the bed stirred and rolled over at the disturbance.

"Mmf…what's going on?" the petite brunette asked blearily. Quinn held up one finger, signaling she would just be a minute. She listened to Santana talk- or try to talk, anyway. She could barely make out what Santana was saying; she was becoming increasingly frantic as she talked and Quinn could only make out snippets. Finally, Quinn had to put a stop to it.

"Santana! You've got to calm down. It's not going to do either of you any good if you make yourself sick worrying."

"I can't calm down!" Santana couldn't take deep breaths any more and her head was starting to spin again- a panic attack was coming on. "Just…just get here. Please?"

"I'm on my way now, the exam can wait. I'll be on the first possible flight out, but pleasetry not to give yourself a heart attack before I get there. I've gotta go, but I'll call once everything is all set. She'll be okay, Santana." Quinn's last words were quiet, almost whispered.

"Mmm-hmm," Santana's voice was bordering on a whimper. "I'll see you in a few hours."

Quinn hung up the phone and sighed. She started stuffing things into her bag while simultaneously trying to get information on the soonest flights out of Baltimore.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist. She sighed again and relaxed into Rachel's embrace.

"What's going on?" she repeated.

"Brittany was in an accident." She didn't turn to face the brunette.

"What?!"

"It's serious. She's in surgery, and Santana's a wreck. I'm going to Boston. Today. Now. Santana needs someone there with her." She turned to face Rachel, and Rachel saw Quinn's hazel eyes were filling with tears. "Can you come with me? The more friends they have there…"

"No. You go. I have to be back in New York tomorrow and I can't just not show up…but I'll come as soon as I can. Tell Santana I'm thinking of them?" Rachel's heart broke to see Quinn so sad. While Rachel had never exactly been best friends with either Santana or Brittany- hell, it wasn't until only recently that Brittany had given up on the bizarre grudge she had been holding against Rachel since high school- she had seen them grow to become Quinn's best friends over the years. The two of them seemed to operate on a totally different plane from the rest of the world, but they had tried to be there for Quinn as much as possible.

"Yeah…yeah, I will." Quinn glanced at her phone. "There's a flight out in a couple hours."

"Book it. I'll be fine getting to the airport on my own later. Why don't you come back to bed, try and get some sleep before you head out?" Rachel reached up and cupped Quinn's cheek in her hand. Quinn took Rachel's hand in her own and kissed the palm gently.

"I think I'm just gonna go make some coffee. I need to leave soon anyway to get there on time, I'll sleep on the plane."

Rachel kissed Quinn's cheek and pulled her into a hug.

"She has to be okay," Quinn whispered.

"There's never been anything that's kept Brittany down very long," Rachel kissed the blonde's lips lightly, barely more than a brush. "Call me as soon as you have any news, okay?"

Quinn nodded and broke away from the embrace to go to the kitchen, packed bag in hand. She made a cup of coffee, drumming her fingers on the counter anxiously as she silently willed the machine to work faster. Once it was finished, she nearly spilled its contents as she snatched the travel mug and headed out the door, calling goodbye to Rachel as she went. Rachel's words echoed in her head as she drove to the airport.

There's never been anything that's kept Brittany down very long.

"I hope you're right," Quinn mumbled to herself in the quiet of her car.