It had been four days since Santana had left the apartment and Quinn felt like she was going to drop dead of an aneurysm at any moment. Aside from Kurt stopping by to pick up Santana's phone charger the day after she'd left, she had gotten absolutely no updates. So, she divided her time waiting for news between pacing the apartment, working tirelessly at the diner, watching every single episode of the Jersey Shore, and a plethora of other mindless things.
Day four turned out to be her lucky day because as the sun was setting over the New York skyline there was a knock on Quinn's front door. She leapt up from her spot on the couch that her body had practically been indented into and almost slammed into the frontdoor as a result of the momentum her eagerness had afforded her. Stopping briefly, she took a second to regain her composure and attempt to look like she hadn't been worrying herself into the ground just in case it was Santana. With a big show smile that could put Rachel's to shame, she opened the door to find...
Blaine.
Quinn's shoulders visibly slumped and she just turned around with a sigh to plop back onto the couch.
"Please, contain your enthusiasm," Blaine said sarcastically as he walked in, closing the door behind him. "I know I'm not who you really wanna see right now but I'd think you'd at least take the time to say 'hello' to your best friend; who, if I may add, has brought you two slices of that disgustingly greasy pepperoni pizza that you can never say no to."
Now noticing the smell wafting through her apartment, Quinn perked up a bit and offered Blaine a small but genuine smile as he handed her the slices which were being held between two paper plates.
"I'm sorry, and thank you," she said as she laid her eyes on the pizza, only now realizing how hungry she was. Without another word, she picked up the first massive, classically New York, slice of pizza and took a bite that would put a snake to shame.
"You don't want some napkins, to you know, dab it?" Blaine asked, his eyes drifting to the grease glistening on the pizza.
"Are you kidding?" Quinn asked through a full mouth. "That's what makes it so damn good."
"You should be fat, just sayin'," Blaine teases as her sat down beside Quinn, watching her practically inhale her food.
When Quinn finished in record time, she sighed and leaned back on the coach, ignoring Blaine's wide-eyed observations of her. She didn't really care if her thought she was eating like a beast, her mind had been a little too preoccupied as of late to remind her to do things like eat.
"So," Blaine began. "How've you been? If your eating habits just now were any indication I'd say you've seen better days."
"Well, Blaine, you're definitely right about that," Quinn said with a bitter chuckle. "All I've done these past few days is work, pace around, and watch shit tv shows. And do you know what else?"
"What else?" Blaine asked.
"I tried smoking!" Quinn through her hands up in exasperation and pointed to the coffee table where a pack of Malboros lay. "I wanted something to calm me down and figured, 'what the hell have I got to lose?' and bought those!"
"Quinn, I love you but that's a really stupid thing to do," Blaine scolded and reached for the packet. He opened the packet to inspect it and found that only one was missing. He turned to Quinn with a raised eyebrow and a faint smirk.
"I lit one, inhaled, coughed for about ten minutes, then threw up," Quinn muttered. "I can't even smoke a fucking cigarette properly."
"There are worse things in this world than being unable to smoke a cigarette," Blaine laughed as he tossed them back onto the table. "All jokes aside though, Quinn, it's not a good sign that you felt the need to do something like take up smoking. As your best friend I'm gonna be honest here and say that you look like shit."
Quinn opened her mouth to bite back but closed it quickly, realizing he was definitely right. She hadn't been sleeping or eating reguarly and it was showing up physically. There were bags under her eyes and she just seemed to droop as she sat on the couch.
"You remind of Santana a bit right now," Blaine said quietly, staring at his hands which were clasped in his lap. "It's scaring me a bit."
"What?" Quinn asked, broken out of her stupor by the subtle sadness in her friend's voice.
"You're putting yourself on hold and just being consumed by what happened," Blaine explained. "You're just dwelling on it and not taking care of yourself. Of course it's not as bad as Santana was when Brittany died but it's like I'm seeing traces of her in you right now. You both just get so consumed by the love you feel and don't see anything else, it's not healthy."
"So what, you think I'm gonna kill myself?" Quinn scoffed, feeling slightly offended.
"No, I don't think you're as intense as Santana and this isn't as bad as Brittany dying but you both can just be so self-destructive. I mean, Jesus Christ you seriously lost it for a while in high school and that can't happen again," Blaine said with a sigh. "It's okay to be sad but you can't just pull a Bella Swan and stop living when something goes bad. You have to take care of yourself and find out ways to be happy regardless of whether or not she comes around again."
"I hate when you're right," Quinn said with a nod, letting Blaine's words really sink in. She couldn't go back to the shell of a person she was at the beginning of her senior year when she was grieving over giving Beth up for adoption. As Shelby had told her then, being an adult means forgiving yourself for the mistakes you've made.
"If you're sad, you're sad. Just make sure you still eat and sleep and, oh I don't know, have a little fun here and there?" Blaine said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "I know I've been telling you that she'll come around, and I really think she will, but you really need to work on yourself just in case she doesn't. Hell even if everything works out perfectly for you and she ends up falling in love with you you still have to be your own person apart from her."
"Tell you what," Quinn said as she stood up, feeling rejuvinated and ready to take Blaine's advice. "I'm gonna take a shower and we're gonna get a few drinks and just talk about stupid shit, just for the hell of it."
"That's a plan I can get behind!" Blaine said, clapping his hands together. "Rachel, Kurt and Santana are at my place so we should invite Cam out too."
"Give him a call and tell him we'll be there in forty-five," Quinn called over her shoulder as she made her way to the bathroom. She quickly turned on the shower and got the water to the perfect temperature before hopping in. As the hot water ran over her she couldn't help but think that there was no better way to get over her funk than drinking for free at Blaine and Kurt's bar with good friends.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Santana sat on the couch and listened as Rachel and Kurt gushed over the latest Broadway gossip that they had heard recently. They had been 'oh my god'-ing and 'you wont believe'-ing for the better part of an hour and Santana had simply accepted that she had no place in this conversation.
"He did not," Rachel stated in shock, mirroring Kurt's position of practically falling out of her seat at the kitchen island.
"I swear to you that he did," Kurt confirmed.
"And the paramedics had to come?" Rachel asked. Santana rolled her eyes at Rachel's apparent need for Kurt to reiterate everything he'd said.
"Well it's not everyday someone dances off the stage!" Kurt exclaimed.
"Are they gonna have to bring in someone new?"
"Well he's ensemble so I don't think they're particuarly attached to him, but who knows," Kurt said with a shrug. Just as Rachel was about to open her mouth yet again Santana cleared her throat very loudly, making the pair of divas whip their heads towards her.
"Yes?" Kurt asked.
"Well as fascinating as it is to listen to a conversation that pertains to me in no way what-so-ever, how about we switch it up for a bit?" She asked, her voice laced with trademark Santana sarcasm. Normally Kurt would bite back but, as of late Santana sarcasm was a rare commodity and he was actually kind of thrilled to hear it.
"Of course, how rude of us," Rachel said and got up to sit on the couch, pulling Kurt with her. "Tell us all about the life of one Santana Lopez."
"Same old, same old," Santana said waving her hand around non-chalantly. "I'm gonna see Kyle for the second time tomorrow."
"SANTANA LOPEZ!" Rachel bellowed and jumped up and ran her hands through her hair. Kurt and Santana just stared at her, both a little shocked by the intense outburst.
"What the hell Berry?" Santana asked when she regained her thoughts.
"You're seeing a man?" Rachel said the last word in a stressed whisper. "Is that the real reason you didn't like it when Quinn kissed you? You're not actually a lesbian? Oh my God how did I miss such a pivotal change in my friends life. Are you sure? No, this isn't right you're as much of a lesbian as Kurt is a gay man. I just don't understand how this happened, whe-"
"Rachel!" Kurt grabbed her arm and pulled her back down to the couch. "I swear you're rambling gets worse with age."
"I'll have you know that the amount of speaking I do is perfectly normal," Rachel huffed and crossed her arms before looking pointedly at Santana. "Explain this man you're seeing."
"Well, if you'd given me a second to explain and just asked what was going on like a normal person," Rachel rolled her eyes. "You would know that Kyle's my new therapist. God Berry don't ever so much as think that I would date a man, that's foul."
"Oh," Rachel said and shifted awkwardly. "Sorry."
"It's all good Rachel," Santana sighed. All the talk of her dating, no matter how misguided, still was something that made her nervous. Hopefully Kyle would be able to help her with that. She didn't want to be alone forever.
"Where'd you go?" Kurt asked. Santana shook her head slightly and looked at her friends, who were looking back with concern in their eyes.
"Sorry, just the dating stuff is still hard to think about," she muttered in response. "I want to some time but it still hurts to think about not being with Brittany. On the bright side at least I've gotten to the point where I can talk about it." Santana laughed weakly.
"Progress is progress," Rachel said much quieter than is usual for her. "You should be proud of every step you make."
"Believe me, I am," Santana said with a small smile. "I think tomorrow's gonna be a big turning point."
"Why is that?" Rachel asked. Kurt stayed quiet as he had already had this conversation with Santana.
"Kyle's gonna have me talk about what Brittany would say and think of everything," Santana explained. "I don't know, being forced to put things into perspective will probably help me move on. I know she wouldn't want me to dwell over her forever but I really need to flush all of that out. Then hopefully I won't have any panic attacks again if someone makes a move," Santana added the last sentence quietly and was unable to make eye contact as she spoke.
"All in good time," Kurt joined back into the conversation. "You'll get there and you'll find someone to love and love you."
"I guess," Santana sighed, really not wanting to talk about this anymore. Luckily, the doorbell rang and Santana was saved from continuing. In fact, the doorbell rang multiple times.
"Coming!" Kurt sang out as he jumped up and went to the door. When he opened it, three people (who were rapidly running out of oxygen from their persistent hyena-like laughing) practically fell on top of him as they stumbled through the door. Santana, Rachel, and Kurt just watched with wide eyes as Blaine, Cameron, and Quinn fell onto the unoccupied couch in the living room.
"Blaine, you live here. Why'd you ring the bell?" Kurt asked, semi-amused by his husband and friends drunken pile-up.
"I tried the key but the hole was too small," Blaine explained like it was obvious.
"That's what she said! That's what she said!" Cameron shouted and the drunk-buddies collapsed into laughter once again.
"Hey, hey, guys," Quinn slurred as she caught her breath. "That's what I said."
And of course, that was enough to get the drunk pals laughing again. When the laughter died down again Kurt noticed that Blaine had somehow in the past few seconds managed to fall asleep.
"That's my cue to put the big boy to bed," Kurt laughed and went to start dragging his dead weight husband to their bedroom.
"Rachie," Cameron whined in a rather childish voice. "I wanna cuddle."
Rachel rolled her eyes and smiled when she heard Kurt's laugh booming from the hallway. Cameron essentially turned into a big baby when he drank and was around Rachel.
"Should we catch a cab home baby?" Rachel walked over to help her husband stand up. He just nodded and pouted at her as she slung his arm over her shoulder. "Lets go then." Rachel gave Santana a quick nod goodbye before managing to haul her husband out of the front door.
And that's how Santana found herself alone in a room with a very drunk Quinn. Santana felt her heart rate increase and started fiddling with her hands, looking anywhere but at Quinn and hoping that Kurt would be back soon.
"Santana," Quinn's voice broke the silence and Santana's head shot up to see a practically green faced Quinn.
"Shit," Santana muttered. She quickly got up and switched into helper mode, placing an arm around Quinn's waist as dragging her towards the bathroom. The second they got in their Quinn dropped to her knees and was hugging the toilet bowl as she heaved out her insides. Santana sighed and knelt down beside her and began to rub tentative circles on her back.
Ten minutes later, Quinn's had stopped getting sick and leaned against the cold tile of the bathroom wall. Santana sat cross legged in front of her as Quinn began to visibly sweat out the alcohol. Her and the boys had drank like high schoolers for the first time in quite a while and it was all too apparent now that Quinn's body was not happy with her decision. The next 24 hours were going to be rough for her and Santana felt like she couldn't just leave her alone.
"Come on," Santana said and stood up, pulling Quinn gently up with her. Quinn all too willingly put her body weight against Santana as they made their way to the guest room where Santana was staying.
"Sit on the side of the bed," Santana said firmly yet gently at the same time as she pulled open the drawer she'd put some of her stuff in to retrieve sleep shorts and a wife beater for Quinn to change into.
"Hands up," Quinn quickly complied and Santana pulled her shirt over her head, quickly slipping the wife beater on and avoiding looking at her chest.
"Can you put on these shorts yourself?" Santana asked. Quinn nodded and, after a valiant battle, was able to get the sleep shorts on.
"Lie down," Santana ordered as she pulled back the covers. Quinn silently stumbled her way into a laying down position, her eyes shutting the second her head hit the pillow. Santana pulled the covers up around Quinn's shoulder before turning to leave the room and make a bed for herself on the couch. She grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and, just as she was about to leave the room, Quinn's voice quietly filled the air.
"Stay," she mumbled sleepily.
"Quinn..." Santana stated but was cut off.
"Please, we can go back to not talking in the morning but I don't wanna be alone now," Quinn pleaded quietly. Santana sighed and put back the blanket, completely unable to say no to shivering Quinn who looked smaller than she ever had underneath the covers. The idea of Quinn waking up alone and feeling as shitty as she was going to in the morning was something Santana just couldn't stand. Quinn had been there for Santana so long and one mistake shouldn't make Santana forget that; it was her turn to be there for Quinn, no matter how trivial the hangover of the century may seem.
So, Santana silently slid into bed beside Quinn. She stiffened slightly when Quinn rolled over and rested her head against her collarbone, but relaxed as she heard Quinn's breathing even out. As much as it pained her to admit it, Santana couldn't ignore how good it felt to be falling asleep next to someone again.
A/N: I only got like, 2 reviews last chapter. That made me sad : [ Reviews keep me motivated and knowing that I'm doing stuff you guys approve of!