Chapter 3

Quinn dreamed of air whipping, whistling past her ears. Of falling for (what seemed like) an eternity. She dreamed in aching clarity. Her wings were being torn off by the fall. Gravity snapped their joints, broke the bones, ripped out chunks of feathers.

Then her wings caught fire. What feathers remained were stained by blots of blood from open fractures. The red turned brown, then black with a glowing orange outline as they burned down and fizzled until only shafts fluttered a few times and got ripped off as well. Every perception was replaced by searing pain.

Tears blurred her vision. But there was also an odd feeling of remorse. She was losing something. Her wings, of course, but it felt like there was more to that. It only made her cry harder. Yet the fall was merciless. It forcefully wiped her tears off before they could reach her cheeks. They trailed behind her, or technically - above her - mixing with the ashes, before evaporating.

And still she fell.

Moments passed and she was becoming numb to the downward pull. There was nothing left to mourn, nothing left to shed. Nothing around her, no ground beneath milky blankness. Bearing down on her from all directions…

…But she had to stay focused! She needed to stay alert! When she'd get there, there won't be much time! She will need to… because she needed to keep Rachel … and she couldn't let… she wouldn't allow for it to… Quinn shook her head. It was as if her thoughts were drifting into fog. Even the blankness beneath seemed to grow closer. She felt calm. She shouldn't, should she?

No, she had to focus. The air around her, disregarded to this point, was starting to feel oddly cold to her skin. No distractions. And her fall now seemed to have sped up. She anchored her thoughts to Rachel. The blankness grew oddly brighter. Focus on Rachel. And the sound of the whizzing wind grew louder. Rachel. So loud it blended with street traffic. Rachel! She would collide if she didn't slow down-

Quinn woke with a jolt. She had not hit the ground, though her body braced for impact. The rude awakening didn't stop there, because the jolt caused a sharp bolt of pain flare all across her right side. She hissed and her body tried to coil up, but something tugged back at her right arm with even more stabbing pain when she moved it. So squeezing her eyes, Quinn tried to breathe deeply through the worst of it. It's when she noticed the two tubes coming out of her nostrils. She not as much saw them, as she has not yet opened her eyes, but felt their oval shapes against her skin. It felt uncomfortable, but not half as bad as the faint pinching, yet void of anything pleasant, sensation of… was that what 'smell' felt like?

Quinn tried to draw in more air, but it only rekindled the agony in her right side. She whimpered and was immediately surprised by the sound - was that her own voice? Another noise captured her attention then; this one beeping steadily. She could locate it, could tell in which direction its source resided. She never had a need for such a mortal talent before. She could also make out other, fainter noises coming from someplace afar of the space she was in right now. It sparked something within her and she realizes it was genuine curiosity. Deciding to take the next step in acquainting herself with her senses, Quinn started to slowly open her eyes. Excitement bubbled within her as she was to see with human eyes for the first time.

A glaring light hits her first. There was something in her line of vision that was brighter than the rest and she had to squint even more. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out colors. Or the lack thereof. Everything around was more or less of the same dull hues of green and grey. As shapes became less blurry the glare became the sky outside - white and painful to look at directly - coming through a window to the right of her bed. In which she lay. With a light comforter draped over her. An IV sticking out of her arm and tugging unpleasantly when she moved it.

The realization dawned on her. Hospital. But how did she?-

"Took you long enough," came a voice from the corner.

Her head snapped in its direction, because she was all too familiar with its owner. She didn't notice the beeping picking up.

Her eyes widened, there was no mistaking the brunette with the folded arms for anybody else.

"Sa- Santana?"

Santana frowned in confusion, because Quinn was looking straight at her. "…the hell?"

Quinn just gaped. It was her. The beeping sped up.

For moments they stared at each other in shock.

"How can you-?"
"Why are you-?" both broke the silence at the same time.

"What is happening?" Quinn asked in her distress and disbelief, looking around the room frantically. The rising panic was making her heart race. Suddenly, it felt like she couldn't get enough of air in her lungs. She tried to take deep breaths, but there was that searing pain in her side again. She yelped, loudly now. Straining to breathe, she tried to sit up, to clutch at her wound, anything to get at least a slight relief, but it only got worse as the pain in her side got joined by two more bolts slashing up from her shoulder blades.

In the commotion the heart rate monitor snapped off of her finger and the beeping turned into one continuous tone. Moments later two nurses came barging in through the door. Quinn was told to lay back, calm down, breathe slowly, but she wanted neither, she wanted answers!

One of the nurses finally managed to hold her down while the other adjusted the IV. Quinn's eyes started to droop involuntarily.

Everything became hazy, then dark once again.

This time she wasn't falling at all. Quinn dreamt in flash-like instances. Or was that the red and blue flashing of an ambulance?

Faces stared down at her. She got poked and prodded, hauled and strapped, attached and moved, pierced and given. And everything else was a white noise of 'too loud'.

She heard potestas Sylvester's voice. She was reminding her of something. Warning her. It felt important, but she couldn't quite make out the words.

Someone's hand rested on her wrist. Gingerly, then tenderly. A person, standing right beside her bed. But somehow, she knew. She knew it's her.

A person, sitting by her bed now. And still Sylvester's voice urged. She could not forget. Quinn would be cautious, she wanted to assure, wanted to ask the higher celestial if she could repeat that, because everything was muddled. Everything save for Rachel's touch.

Quinn woke after what felt like too many hours. Her lips were parched and she tried to lick them to little avail. The monitor beeped steadily again.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that it was not evening quite yet. Or maybe it was the next day already. Still that was not what occupied her awareness much.

Rather it was Santana leaning against the window directly in her line of sight and staring pointedly right back.

"Are you gonna freak again, or can we actually talk this time?"