A/N: Thanks guys for reading! I'm so glad even a few of you have taken the time to read/review/follow/favorite! I tried to space an update out after the hurt we all experienced last week :) Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine. If anyone's interested, I'm unsaltysaltines on Tumblr! Enjoy, everyone!

Chapter 3

"Pierce?"

Santana all but jumped from her chair.

"Are you her family?" the nurse asked. She didn't look much older than Santana.

"Y-yeah."

"Come with me," she placed a hand between Santana's shoulder blades in a comforting gesture as she led Santana from the room. "Ms. Pierce-"

"Brittany. I'm sure she would rather you call her Brittany."

The nurse smiled. "Brittany should be being moved from the recovery room into the intensive care unit any minute, we'll meet them up there. My name's Rose, I'm an ICU nurse."

"I'm Santana." She felt her voice crack a little.

Another nurse was checking Brittany's vital signs when the two arrived at the right room.

"Once he's done in there, you can go in and see her. She won't wake up for a while yet, because of a combination of the anesthesia, the medications she's on, and the stress on her body from the accident, but the doctor should be in in an hour or so to talk to you. Do you need anything?"

"No. I'm fine, how long should it be before I can see her?" As she spoke, the other nurse left.

"You can go in now," Rose said with a smile. "We'll be monitoring her out here and checking on her regularly. Let us know if you need anything, okay?"

Santana could only nod. She stepped into the room and had to pause to collect herself so she wouldn't completely fall to pieces at the woman lying in the bed in front of her.

"Brittany…" she whispered.

Someone had pulled her hair away from her face, which was covered in cuts and bruises from the impact. There was one machine breathing for her, another monitoring her blood pressure and heart rate, and another feeding her constant medication through an IV. Santana approached the bed cautiously. She gently ran her hand down Brittany's arm, and a chill shot down her spine at the realization that Brittany had survived.

"You're still here," she said quietly. She ran her hand down the side of Brittany's face lightly, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear.

A soft knock on the door made Santana jump. Dr. Carson stood in the doorway, looking significantly more tired after the hours spent in the operating room. He didn't look like he had bad news, Santana noticed, but he didn't look like he had good news either.

"Santana?"

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to give you an update on her condition, if that's okay? I can come back later, if you'd like to spend some more time with her right now."

"No, that's okay. I'm just glad she's out…how did everything go?"

Dr. Carson pulled a couple of chairs bedside and motioned for Santana to sit down. Santana sat down close to the bed facing the doctor, anxious for news.

"The surgery went quite well, considering the extent of her injuries. She's heavily medicated right now, and the anesthesia will take some time to wear off, so it might be a couple more hours before she's awake. Like I explained earlier in the emergency room, we could fix her internal injuries in surgery and she should recover from those. We're also going to monitor her concussion very closely to make sure no lasting damage was done."

"That's good. What about her spinal cord?"

"I was able to relieve most of the pressure, but as we expected, there is significant damage to the cord."

"Is she…paralyzed?" Santana's voice cracked a little at the last word.

"The injury is what we classify as 'incomplete', which means that the cord was not severed, so she will not be completely paralyzed. The injury was right about here-" the doctor twisted a little as he spoke so he could point out exactly the region he was talking about, a spot in the middle of his lower back. "This part of the cord controls general muscle function from the waist down, which includes the lower abdomen and legs."

"Okay…" Santana kept reminding herself to breathe. "What will that do to her?"

"The physical effects could range from minor muscle weakness to partial paralysis of the affected muscles, but due to the extent of the damage we're expecting her injury to fall more towards the serious end of the spectrum. I am honestly surprised the injury wasn't complete."

"That means…it would have been completely severed?" Santana asked. "Will she be able to walk?"

"Yes. Physical therapy, both here in the hospital and at home, will help her regain some of what she'll have lost- not a lot, but some. Recovery will take time, and it certainly won't be easy, because these are a very serious class of injuries."

"Jesus…and all this happened in a split second?" Santana suddenly felt a combination of anger at the other driver, relief that Brittany hadn't been killed by his stupidity, and simple exhaustion from all the information flying at her. "Because some asshole-" she spit the word out "-decided to have one too many?"

Dr. Carson nodded grimly.

"Do you have any questions, Santana? I know this is a lot to process right now, but feel free to call me if you have any questions whatsoever." He pulled out a card and handed it to her. "I'll be on Brittany's case through her immediate care and through therapy, if you'd like."

"Thank you." Santana was relieved to hear he would be staying. She liked the doctor.

"She'll never dance again, will she…?" Santana blurted, and her hand flew to her mouth reflexively as if to shut herself up. She didn't need the doctor to say anything- just based on the diagnosis, she figured she knew what the answer would be and she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to hear that. All the other emotions racing quickly through Santana's veins dissipated and turned back into anxiety. "She owns her own studio and everything. Ever since we were little…that's who she is…she's so talented."

Dr. Carson just shook his head. The silent confirmation Santana had dreaded.

Santana sucked in a sharp breath. "She'll be devastated." Her voice was quiet. Dr. Carson stood up and shook Santana's hand with both of his own.

"If you have any questions at all, please call me. She should be waking up within the next couple of hours, and I'll be back later in the day to check on her, okay? Try and get some sleep if you can." He left, and Santana was alone with the noises of the ICU around her. She shifted her chair so she was directly facing the bed and Brittany. Santana laced her fingers through Brittany's the best she could without actually moving the blonde's hand, for fear of jostling anything, and kissed the back of it as gently as she ever had.

Without any warning, a small sob escaped from her lips. The tears Santana had been so carefully controlling all night came flooding out as she looked at Brittany's unconscious form and began to process the diagnosis. She'll never dance again…the thought was almost too much for Santana to handle. She couldn't imagine how Brittany would take that news.

"I'm so sorry, Britt," she whispered hoarsely through her sobs. "I'm so, so sorry…"

XXXXXXXX

Quinn arrived to find Santana fast asleep at Brittany's bedside. She pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from making a sound as she took in Brittany's battered, still-unconscious form. She had been trying to mentally prepare herself for what she would see, but nothing could possibly prepare her for seeing her friend actually lying in a hospital bed, broken. Quinn had to stop and collect herself before moving into the room and making her presence known.

Santana's cheeks were tear-stained, and Quinn felt her heart lurch. They were supposed to be all right, she thought. Nothing bad was supposed to happen to them after all the shit they had gone through in high school and in college.

"Santana?" Quinn approached the sleeping brunette and touched her shoulder lightly. Santana awoke with a small start and looked around, disoriented. Once she saw Quinn, she smiled weakly in relief.

"Hey." Quinn was taken aback a little by how hoarse and exhausted Santana sounded. She had been sleeping, but there were still dark shadows under her eyes and she looked pale.

"How is she?" Quinn sank down in the chair next to Santana

"Still not awake. The doctor came in once she was out of surgery and told me it went well, all things considered. He'll be back later, once she wakes up."

"How…how bad is it?" Quinn gulped, not sure if she wanted to hear Santana's answer. Just looking at her, Quinn could see the accident had done a number on the bubbly blonde.

"It's bad, Q," Santana said vaguely. "She won't wake up for another few hours, and when she does, she'll be in so much pain. When she finds out what happened to her back…" Santana looked away from Quinn and back to Brittany. "She won't be the same."

"What happened to her back?"

"Her spinal cord was damaged. Badly. The doctor thinks she'll be able to walk again, but she won't be able to do half of what she could."

"Oh my God…" Quinn felt like someone had punched her in the stomach at the news.

"I can't…I don't know if I'll be able to tell her." Santana shook her head and untangled her fingers from Brittany's. She rested her forehead in her hands. "Her whole life…she's going to wake up and wish she were dead."

"You don't know that," Quinn said quickly. "She's got you. You'll be the best support system she could ever ask for." She rested her hands on Santana's knees. "Things may not ever be the same for her, but you might be able to make things a little easier." She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Santana's shoulders, pulling her in for a hug.

"Have you called her parents yet? They should know what happened, what's going on." Quinn felt bad for changing the subject, but she just didn't know what else to say.

"They should, but…I don't think I can…"

"I'll call them. Can you give me their number?" Santana found the number in her phone and Quinn left to make the call. She came back in the room looking substantially more drained than she had before.

"They're on their way as soon as possible, but they have to catch a flight out of Columbus."

Santana only nodded, her gaze fixated back on Brittany. It was almost as if she was willing her to wake up with just her stare.

"You should really go try and eat something, Santana," Quinn said gently. She crouched down so she was level with Santana, rested her hands on her friend's shoulders and looked her square in the eyes. "You look like hell."

Santana's eyes widened in panic. "I can't leave her."

"She'll be okay. I won't leave. You need to eat something before you become a patient yourself. There's a vending machine down the hall if you don't want to go far, but take a walk before you go crazy, okay?"

Santana stood up dazedly, her eyes unable to focus on much more than the bed next to her, and left the room. The hall outside was a little noisier; the shift change was happening, and families of other patients in the unit were beginning to trickle in slowly. Someone was talking quietly on a cell phone; he was leaning on the wall and it looked like he hadn't slept in days. Santana wondered if that was what she looked like- disheveled, exhausted, stressed beyond belief.

After making a haphazard meal out of whatever she found in the closest vending machine, Santana felt a little better. More ready to face whatever was coming, anyway. She returned to the room, and Quinn was sitting in the chair that had been previously occupied by Dr. Carson. She had an open book in her lap, but she wasn't looking at it. Instead, she was looking intently at Brittany, almost as intently as Santana had been earlier.

"She's starting to wake up," Quinn said. "The nurse came in while you were gone- they were going to come back and take out her breathing tube as they wean her off the sedatives."

Santana let out a huge exhale, and felt herself relax a bit. She was going to wake up, and that was the fist step in getting Brittany back.

A nurse came back and explained to Santana that she would be taking the breathing tube out. Santana held her breath as she watched the nurse remove the tube from her throat. As Brittany's chest started to rise and fall on its own, Santana felt a small wave of relief crash over her.

"That's good," Santana breathed, more to herself than anyone else. She threaded the fingers of one hand through Brittany's and covered the back of it with her other, so she was holding Brittany's hand in both of hers.

Brittany's body felt like a lead weight as her surroundings began to come back into focus. The last thing she remembered was a lot of noise, a lot of pain, a lot of confusion. She tried to speak, but couldn't seem to get her mouth and her brain to cooperate. There were hands holding hers, and Brittany turned her heavy head to look at the woman to whom they belonged. She tried again to speak, and was successful in only producing disjointed sounds.

"Don't try to talk, Britt." Santana's voice was quiet, and as everything came more into focus around her, she saw it was Santana holding her hand, tracing small circles on the back.

"San…" she said thickly, forcing the single syllable out after another attempt.

"H-hey, Britt." Santana smiled and cursed the tears fogging her vision.

"Wha…what happened?"