Chapter 6

*Reposting*

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee

We ran towards the control room, intent on hearing the news right away. Puck was holding the door open for us, tears in his eyes.

"Puck? What happened?" I ask hysterically.

"T-They f-found them..." He shakes uncontrollably.

"W-Why are you crying? Is she okay? Is she alive?"

"Britt, come on, sit down." Quinn ushers me to a seat.

"No. You tell me what's going on. Now."

"I will. But you have to sit down." She holds on to a headphone, eyes still locked with mine. "She's alive. But barely. They were found by an illegal fishing boat, wandering on a patch of floating ice, near Iceland. The boat doesn't have a functioning radio system, that's why they couldn't contact anybody. Or maybe, they just didn't want to call, seeing as that would draw attention to their illegal activity." She sighed.

"S-She's alive?" I asked, tears streaming down my face.

"Barely. They're being transported to the nearest hospital as we speak. Here, Edward is on the plane and wants to talk to you." She gives me the headphone before stepping back to give me a little space.

"Edward?"

"Brittany. We're taking Santana and her companions to the nearest hospital. She's alive, but she's in a critical condition after being submerged in the waters for so long. Severe hypothermia. Dilated pupils, her pulse is very weak. Thank God they brought survival suits."

"Where are you taking her? I need to see her."

"We're almost at Reykjavik City Hospital. Look, I've already arranged for a plane to take you and your group to the hospital. The flight is about three hours. A car will be meeting you at the airport."

"Alright. Thank you. We'll be there." I removed the head set and stood up from my seat. Kurt, Quinn and Puck were quick to give me a hug, all of them crying.

"She's alive. The bitch is alive. Oh my God, I knew it..." Kurt whispers.

"We need to go to the hospital. Edward said the plane's ready."

"Come on! What are we waiting for? Let's see how Satan is." Puck kidded, trying so hard to hide the fact that he's trying, but comically failing to do so.

/

OVER THREE HOURS LATER:

We arrived at the hospital and instantly found Edward outside Santana's room.

But he wasn't alone.

Sitting beside him is William Lopez, the Lopez patriarch. He's old (he's 79) and frail, but still looks dignified and oozes power and cockiness. He's sitting with his legs crossed, cane in hand. His steely brown orbs darted towards me and I had to hold my breath in anticipation. His face is stoic. With a sigh, he averted his gaze before clearing his throat.

"Brittany, please, can you take this seat?" He motions for the seat beside him and I did not hesitate to heed his request. Edward, Kurt, Quinn and Puck left to get some coffee, leaving me alone with my father-in-law.

"How is she?" I ask worriedly.

"Bad. When she was found, she wasn't breathing. The doctor said her blood is not circulating anymore. So Dr. Smythe, you know him of course, right?" He asks, and I nod in response. Dr. Sebastian Smythe is one of Santana's friends. "Well, Seb and another doctor had to give her a CPR. She had to be ventilated with oxygen. She was also treated with a defibrillator, but to no effect."

"B-But E-Edward told me she's..."

"I asked him to downplay her condition. We weren't sure yet what's happening with her. Until we knew for sure, I asked Edward to just tell you she's alive, but is in a pretty bad shape."

"I'm her wife, Bill." I whispered, pain and fear resurfacing again. "I deserve to know everything, no matter how bad or awful they are."

"I know. I'm sorry." I look at him in astonishment. William Lopez never apologized. Not even when he asked, no, demanded that Santana leave our anniversary dinner to fetch him in Seattle because of a poker game in New York that he had to attend. Apparently, no one was available to fly the family jet at that particular time.

"Please tell me everything."

"Okay." He sighed before continuing. "When she arrived here, together with her companions, an anesthesiologist and the head of the emergency room proceeded with the resuscitation attempt. They said that Santana had completely dilated pupils, was ashen, flaxen white, and looked absolutely dead. The electrocardiogram connected to her showed no signs of life, but the head doctor knew that patients should be warmed up first before you declared them dead. They were hoping her brain had received enough oxygen from the CPR given to her right after the rescue. She was then brought to the operating room where a team of doctors are trying to save her life. The head talked to me and told me what they'll do."

He paused to gauge my reaction before adding, "They had to connect her to a cardiopulmonary bypass machine that would warm up her blood outside of her body before it will be inserted in her veins. We have to wait for them to get out of that damn room for an update."

"Oh my God..."

"She will make it. I know she will because I told her so. She has always done what I asked of her." I look at him in disbelief.

"When will you stop treating Santana like a paid employee?"

"I'm not -."

"Yes. You are. You do. You always do. You always make her feel that she needs to validate herself to you. You order her around like she's some lifeless, emotionless employee. She's your only daughter but she's doing all the dirty work for the rest of the family while Edward and Henry, and you and your wife sit behind your mahogany desks, inside your extravagant and luxurious work suites." I said in a low voice, preventing from drawing any attention towards us. She travels until she's ready to drop from exhaustion and you all, except Philippe, do not appreciate everything she has done."

"Flying and travelling is her passion -."

"They are. But you all took advantage of that. And our marriage suffered because of that."

"So maybe we did. But don't put all of the blame on me, Brittany. Santana may have done what I asked her to do, but that doesn't change the fact that she's reckless, irresponsible and couldn't follow through any commitment she gets herself into. You, of all people should know that. She blew all the deals I assigned to her. All she wanted was fun and flying and travelling. That's why she's not sitting behind any mahogany desk." He bites back.

"She -." I was cut off by the swinging of the door to the operating room. A small man in scrubs approached us.

"Dr. Andrews. How's my daughter?" He asks monotonously.

"We recorded her first heartbeat since she was brought here. Her body temperature has risen to 36 degrees Celsius, which is great." He says happily. "Her companions are showing great recoveries too."

"Does that mean my wife's okay?" I ask, still in panic.

"Ma'am, she's still under observation. Her lung function deteriorated and she would have to spend the next days, or possibly, weeks, connected to a ventilator."

"What does that mean, doctor?"

"She'll soon show signs of vitality. But I'm afraid she would wake up paralyzed from the neck down. I say, she'll wake up in a week or so. But the paralysis would only be temporary. She'll recover from it. We just have to give her body time to recover. She will be okay."

"Are there any other damages, Doctor?"

"I'm afraid so, Ma'am. Her kidneys and digestive system are not working properly, so she would have to have treatments for them also. She needs to be in an intensive care unit for about a month so we'll be able to monitor everything. I'm looking at a three-month recovery period, Ma'am. But she's so strong. She fought to get her life back so these other complications would be a piece of cake for her."

"Thank you so much." I cried in relief.

"Just doing my job, Ma'am, Sir." He said politely. "I would have to say that this is a great medical achievement for us. The suits spelled the difference. If they were not wearing them, she'll be dead in a few hours after the crash. Also, I believe she recovered because her metabolism slowed down during the incident and the tissues inside her body required less oxygen at the low temperatures. I'm also pleased to tell you that there's no permanent brain damage. Her body had time to cool down completely before her heart stopped. Survival rate for this decrease in body temperature is 10%. I say your wife is a fighter. And lucky." He smiled tiredly. "I would have to excuse myself now. I need to talk to the families of the two other passengers."

"Thank you, Dr. Andrews."

"You're welcome. You can see her in a few. Just one or two persons at a time, though." And with that, he walks away, leaving me with Bill again.

"I have to meet up with some authorities and investigators." He addressed me once again. "They're coming up with the details of the accident. I'll let you know everything as soon as the official report is in. I'll tell your companions that they could see Santana shortly."

"Thank you." I nod curtly, not wanting to prolong this conversation any further.

"Oh, I forgot something." He turned to face me again after walking away. "I know you have obligations in LA, so I'm hiring someone to look after Santana here. We'll fly her back as soon as the doctors give her their clearance."

I clenched my jaw in annoyance, trying so hard to contain my anger. "That won't be necessary, Bill. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of her. I already called my bosses and they're giving me some time off."

"Alright." He shrugs. "And where would you stay?"

"At a nearby hotel. Quinn's making all the arrangements."

"I see. All good then. Just don't forget to call your boyfriend too. He's probably wondering where you are." And with that, he walked away without a second glance.

/

It took two hours before we were allowed to see Santana in the intensive care unit. Our friends allowed me to go on first, on my own. As soon as I entered the room, my eyes found Santana, lying on the hospital bed with wires connected to her body.

She looks so peaceful, like she was just sleeping. If I didn't know any better, I wouldn't suspect that she just cheated death.

"Hey San." I whisper as I sit on the chair beside her bed. "You're looking mighty fine for someone who just got off a plane crash." I teased as I examine the rest of her body. "You look a little pale though. But that's okay. I'll take care of you." I gently caress her head, tracing soft pattern along the contours of her face, her jaw. "Dr. Andrews said you'll be fine. Your companions are doing well too. So don't worry too much. Just focus on getting better, okay?"

I kiss the back of her hand, the bruises not escaping my sight. "I know I said before that I'm leaving you. It's funny though, because who am I kidding? I can't. I can't leave you. Not even if I try. I can't leave you because I won't. Not even when we were apart."

"Kurt told me a lot of things, you know?" I said after a moment of silence. "You're so silly. Like you really have to ask, huh?" I chuckle at how ridiculous I am being.

"I love you San. I love you so much. I can't wait to talk to you. I can't wait for you to come home. There are lots of things that we need to talk about. Lots of making up to do. Lots of arguments to settle." I giggle at the thought.

"One thing that we would surely fight about a lot would be your flying. I know you're going to do it again. I know you too well. You'll definitely throw a fit and we'll argue about it endlessly. But you should know, I'm putting my foot down. Not this time, San. You're not flying a plane again. Ever. I'll only allow you to get inside a plane as a passenger. And it has to be a commercial plane. None of those small planes."

"You scared me to death, San." I whisper, the tears finally falling. "I was so scared that I won't see you again. Don't ever do that again, okay?" I stand and kissed her forehead. "I'm right here, San. I'll just be here waiting, darling. " With one last kiss, I slumped back on the chair.

A few minutes later, Quinn came in. At the door, she immediately broke down as soon as she saw San.

"You fucking bitch." She mutters under her breath, chuckling and crying at the same time as she kisses Santana carefully, as if she's scared she'll break her. "She's really alive." She says in awe. "She's warm. Oh my God."

"She is." I beam for the first time in years. "And I was just telling her that I'm not allowing her to pilot a plane ever again."

"That's right, bitch." She giggles, still looking at Santana's sleeping form. "Other than Britt, you would have to get through me, Kurt, Puck and Rachel before you could get inside another plane." She went on to taunt San, but stopped after a few lines because it felt utterly odd that San's not bitching back.

"Oh Britt! Edward handed this to me earlier." She fished through her coat and grabbed my hand before placing what felt like a necklace in my palm. "They found that around San's neck. They had to remove it during the procedures."

I opened my hand and saw a gold necklace, with a ring as its 'pendant'.

"It's her wedding ring." I breathed out.

"I know. She seldom takes it off. She wears it whenever she flies. Makes her feel safe." Q offered knowingly. "I'm just so excited for you two. I can't wait for her to wake up."

"Me too, Quinn. Me too."

As soon as Quinn was out to give Kurt his turn to see San, I wore the necklace before plopping down on the chair, a smile plastered in my face.

/

Rather short, but this is really what Chapter 6 is all about. Hope you like it. One more chapter after this, then the Epilogue.

What's in store in Chapter 7:

Clue/s: Sand. White. Ring.

Let me know what you think!