Disclaimer: Yeh, i don't own anything. If I did season 4 would be FAR better.
She was numb, as though her entire body had turned to solid stone and she was now but a statue in the comfortable love seat. She wasn't aware of anything; not the deep bleeding gash on her knee, nor the subconscious crease in the brow of the short haired girl attempting to mend the wound. Santana hadn't spoken a single word since Quinn had brought her home, simply remaining in the trance like state as she continued reliving the scenario over and over.
She was fucking wheels… She was having sex with a guy in a motherfuckin' wheelchair?! She internally screamed, her mind overcrowded, leaving her with a blinding migraine. From the floor Quinn raised her eyebrow at the Latina, sitting back on her haunches for a moment.
"She what?" The blonde asked, looking into her best friends dark eyes. Santana's head snapped to her face so fast she should have gotten whiplash, her eyes wide.
"What Q?" She growled, almost dangerous as her glare bore holes into the fair skinned girls face. Unlike all others whom Santana has fixed with said glare, Quinn simply raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at her anger that clearly screamed Don't-Fuck-Me-Over-San. Santana was too smart to defy that glance, and slumped her body forward, leaning her head in her dirt, scratched up hands.
"Britt… Brittany was having sex with Artie…" She stated, an undead like calm having settled over her. Her words became mechanical, as though all of her tears and sorrows had been washed away with that damn fateful storm. Quinn could sense Santana was going through the motions of her pain, and braced herself for the next stage. Anger… She thought subconsciously, hauling herself up to sit beside Santana on the loveseat. She placed a comforting hand on the Latinas back, grateful when she is leant in to, as opposed to pushed away.
"I walked in, and she was straddling his lap… I thought all that plumbing wasn't supposed to work…" She mumbled, physically gagging at the visual that re-represented itself in her mind. Quinn wrinkled her nose and tugged Santana into a sideways hug, letting the other girl rest her head on her shoulder, before suddenly shooting up and pacing back and forth along the carpet. Kinda loses its intimidation factor when paired with a limp…
"What the hell does Stubbles McCripple Pants have that I don't have?!" Santana ranted. Just as Quinn was about to open her mouth to interject, the fuming Latina swung around to cut her off. "And if you say a penis Q I will scalp you in your sleep…" She growled, Quinn shutting her mouth immediately and looking down with a small smirk.
Santana couldn't help but let slip a tiny quirk of her lips before her eyes fell on a photo of the three girls from Cheerleading Nationals two years ago, and smoke almost visibly fumed from her ears. She stormed over to the frame and yanked the back off, pulling out the photo and ripping the tall blonde from the picture, dropping the half containing an immortalized Santana and pre-Beth Quinn. However, she took the Brittany part and began to turn the glossy paper into multi-colored confetti, making the pieces smaller and smaller until they were little more than dust. Quinn sighed and leaned back in the loveseat, letting her head drop back to rest on a light blue couch cushion.
"There's a whole box of our photo's in the draw, and scissors in the dresser. Go wild…" She waved Santana in the appropriate direction, laughing when the girl actually started on her way to finding the various photo albums and boxes. "Tana, are you staying the night?" She asked monotonously, receiving only angry muttering in reply as she started hearing the distinct sound of tearing paper. She rolled her eyes, grabbing her cell phone off the table and shooting a text to her mother to tell her that Santana was staying the night. Why do I even bother? I know she's off screwing Captain Fantastic anyway… She growled internally, wrinkling her nose at the thought of her mother's horrible boyfriend.
She threw a slightly pained glance over her shoulder to the tanned girl sat cross-legged on the ground, sighing. Oh boy… She stood and made her way over to Santana, sitting down beside her and picking up a pair of scissors. It's gonna be a long night…
AN: OK! Well, you wanted this continued, so here's the next chapter. Read and Review, and let me know how you like it. :)