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Post-Quinn

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Opening the door as quietly as possible, Mercedes and Kurt snuck inside their friends' third floor apartment to assess the damage. At nine o'clock that morning, the two of them had received a text politely requesting they head over and offer emotional support.

It didn't take them long to work out why they would need to, and within the hour they had sought out their spare keys and had made their way on over.

Immediately inside, they were met with a drastic change, and they both winced. If for one moment they thought this break would be temporary, like the few before it, the sight before them said otherwise.

"It looks bare," Kurt whispered, turning to look at Mercedes sharply. This was unexpected. This was very unexpected. "Where did she take it all? Does she have a place lined up already?" His voice was rattling with emotion, aghast at this turn of events.

"There's a girl in one of her classes, she found a place and needed a roommate," Mercedes answered, unable to hide her disdain. That little tid-bit of information had taken her thirty minutes to find out.

"A bit convenient," Kurt muttered, looking at all the empty spaces dotted around the apartment where things used to be. He was so used to seeing the place full of life that this shell that he was now standing in was startling.

"Hmm," Mercedes hummed in agreement, eyeing up the countless empty bottles of booze racked up in the recycling box.

Taking a closer look, Mercedes's shoulders sank in relief upon seeing that none of the bottles were new, and as she moved towards the bedroom, she hoped she wouldn't find a new set piled up next to her friend.

Meanwhile, Kurt went to see what else Quinn had taken with her. The bookcases which were once filled with books, cds, dvds, were near empty, and the ones left behind were scattered about the shelves. Also in the living room, he noted, gone were the end tables, which accented nicely with the couch that had been bought together. That was still in place, of course, but only because one side had a pretty poor stitching job from a drunken mishap. After that incident, Quinn had hated the couch, so obviously she'd leave it behind.

Continuing on towards what used to be their dining area, he found a big empty space. She'd taken the table and chairs, but noticing the box in the corner, he saw that she'd left the place mats, coasters, and napkin holders. How helpful.

Shaking his head, he tried not to take sides in this battle, but it was tricky. Quinn had not explained what had happened, just that the relationship was over, and that Mercedes and him should go see Santana. That was it. But seeing the place, it made him think this had been a brutal abandonment.

Taking a seat on the couch, facing the TV which was now perched on the floor given Quinn had taken the table it used to sit on, Kurt sighed and dropped his head back. His friends were idiots, and now he was going to be caught in the crossfire of whatever war was about to take place.

Further up the hall towards the bedroom, Mercedes was having similar thoughts. Taking sides would be stupid, as she'd learnt the first time they had broken up, but this looked final. There didn't seem to be any wiggle room left for amends to be made. Quinn had cleared the place of herself, almost as if removing the fact she ever lived there. There was no way Mercedes could ever see her coming back, and knowing that, she opened the bedroom door as softly as possible to see how much collateral damage had been done.

Buried under a mountain of covers, Mercedes found Santana and sighed. She was thankful to see a slow rise and fall of the girl's breathing as she made her way over to sit on the bed. With her movements, the covers ruffled and bunched up to one side, finally revealing Santana's broken features to the blonde.

"She left me," Santana murmured, frowning in confusion. It looked as if she couldn't quite understand what had happened, and Mercedes knew Kurt and her were going to be there much longer than they first anticipated.

Turning back to the pillows, Santana buried her face in it as her body shook from the tears, and Mercedes couldn't stand to see her fall apart like this. She might not have been as close to Santana as Quinn, but she still cared for her, and this was not a good sight. If Snix was willing to break down in front of her, the situation was so much more serious than she thought.

Later on, later on Mercedes would need to question Quinn, to find out what had happened, and how they were all going to move on. But until then, she had Santana to tend to, or at least until Rachel could get her ass over there.

"Is she…" Kurt's words died as he saw the sight of Santana and he frowned. She most definitely was not okay, but she was breathing and that counted for something.

Walking over, he crawled on the other side of the bed and patted Santana's back, knowing that she could lash out like this. There had been too many breaks up through college not to know.

"You should go," Kurt suggested, not wanting to say the rest of that sentence, knowing that by repeating Quinn's name it would hurt Santana even more.

Mercedes took a second to think it over and then nodded. She knew that she needed to go see Quinn, but as her best friend, she was doing her duty and fulfilling the favour asked of her; even if that meant watching Santana fall to pieces.

Hearing the door click shut behind Mercedes, Kurt worked on getting Santana in a better way, but that was harder said that done. Eventually, she passed out from the exhaustion, and he slipped off the bed, his legs aching from being in the same position for so long.

Walking to the kitchen, or rather he was hobbling to the kitchen, Kurt set about making some coffee for himself. It was then he heard a key in the lock and froze, if this was Quinn, he was going to struggle not to throw a mug at her or something for breaking one of his closest friends into pieces.

Except it was Rachel, so Santana's mugs were safe.

"How is she, is she okay? Where is she?" Rachel asked frantically, looking frazzled, and all Kurt could do was point her towards the bedroom.

The tears started up again shortly after, except Kurt couldn't work out if they were just Rachel's or Rachel and Santana's from his place in the living room.

As the light vanished outside, and the streetlights came on instead, the three of them were still there. Santana was back to sleeping, and it was with Rachel and Kurt in the doorway that progress was made.

"What are we going to do with her?" Kurt asked, seeing the state of Santana holed up on her bed. "We can't leave her like this." His voice was fully of worry and fear, his eyes sliding back to her as he spoke.

"I'll stay with her," Rachel answered, nodding along with her thoughts. "She's not taking care of herself and I'm actually scared she'll do something foolish. So I'll stay here, or she'll stay with me, whatever works best."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

And there it was decided, and by ten o'clock that night, the two of them had bundled Santana up and gotten her to Rachel's apartment across town.

That had been the easy part; now the hard part would begin, getting her back to her normal self, post-Quinn.

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