Quinn was struggling with the coffee machine for the second time that day, and she was on the verge of sending it flying out the first window she came across.
"Damn machine! Get in there!" She was forcing the plastic to get the milk container in without it wanting to cooperate. Santana, who had just placed her bag on a seat, narrowly avoided the jet of milk that sprayed Quinn, part of the bar, and the freshly cleaned tiles.
"Holy shit!" Quinn yelled, throwing the tank into the sink. "Language, Fabray! You're going to scare away your customers." Quinn turned to look at Santana wearily. She had milk in her hair. She looked around the room where only an old man was stirring a spoon in his usual cappuccino while reading the newspaper. "I didn't hear you coming." Quinn said, grabbing a cloth to dry her face and hands while an employee was already busy cleaning the floor.
"No, that's for sure, you were too busy battling with a coffee machine." Quinn huffed at her friend's remark and threw the balled-up dishcloth onto the counter. "Look, if you came to make scathing remarks to me about the way I run my restaurant, you can leave, Santana. I have something else to do."
Santana raised a surprised eyebrow at her best friend's dejected and sullen look. They used to tease each other like that, it was sort of their way of communicating. Except when one or the other wasn't doing well, then tempers softened.
"What's wrong?" Quinn huffed again and walked around the counter to sit heavily on the seat next to the Hispanic woman. "I've been struggling with this damn machine since this morning." Santana laughed heartily because she knew that wasn't the real reason for her bad mood. "Try again. The truth this time."
"We can't hide anything from you, uh."
"I make a living with this talent, remember?" The brunette said with a wink. "Come on, tell me everything." She snapped her fingers at a waiter, despite Quinn telling her not to do this several times, and asked for two burgers for lunch. Quinn opened and closed her mouth a few times before deciding.
"Rachel isn't going well."
Santana observed her for a while, waiting for more, but it never came. "What do you mean she's not well? Is she sick?"
"No, she doesn't talk to me anymore."
"What did you do this time?" The brunette grumbled, already imagining herself playing the mediator. "Nothing, that's the problem! I don't understand." the blonde finally exploded. "When we go out, she drinks until she forgets her name even though she doesn't like it, we both know that. When I confront her, she avoids the subject. When I don't say anything, she doesn't say anything either, while Rachel Berry never shuts up! Honestly, San', I don't know what to do anymore." The waiter chose that moment to bring their plates of fries, hamburgers and mixed salads. The two young women thanked him and Quinn told him that he could leave his service. Santana took a sip from the glass of water she had ordered with the food and resumed the discussion.
"I see. And are there other signs that you have noticed like this?"
"She doesn't really talk to me about her classes anymore. Yesterday at the bar, the girls asked her to sing. She refused, San'." They both looked at each other seriously. Rachel Berry never, ever turned down an opportunity to sing. "I'm afraid she'll give up everything for me. She refuses to return to New York without me to resume her studies there and every time I bring up the subject, she asks me to resume my literature classes and we end up arguing."
"She's not wrong. You had a much more promising career than serving coffee..." Quinn looked at her friend. She ate a fry with her fingertips without taking her eyes off it. "Which camp are you in, exactly?"
"That of the truth." The blonde scoffed and took a piece of her sandwich. She really didn't know where she was going with Rachel but confessing felt good. "Do you want me to talk to her? Try to understand what's going on in her little diva's head?"
"Oh, Santana Lopez asking permission! Ten years ago, you wouldn't have even waited for me to finish my story to go grill her."
"Ah, what do you want? People change, they get older and become more reasonable."
"Yes, of course, you, reasonable. It was Brittany who especially softened you up."
"As if that's a bad thing!"
"Absolutely not. I'm very happy to be able to have a discussion with you without one of us getting slapped by the other."
"Ah, those were good times…" Santana said dreamily. "Sorry, I need to go. I still have appointments. But this evening, I'm picking your girlfriend up to go have a drink with her." Santana approached the blonde to encircle her in her arms but changed her mind at the last moment.
"Milk. I forgot." Quinn said, dejectedly. "Have a nice shower, Fabray!"
"See you tonight, Lopez." Quinn watched her friend leave then took off her apron to throw it on the pile of dirty laundry where all the employees' aprons were piled up. She went to her office, gathered her things, told the head chef that she would be back that evening and went out to her apartment to finally change.
Chloe stared at the numbers stacked on the sheet of paper, the pen moving between her fingers. She was alone today in the Bellas' villa and had taken the opportunity, sitting at the kitchen bar, to calculate what she owed and what she would have to pay until the end of the year. The more she thought about what she had forgotten, the longer the list grew.
$2,650 hospitalization
$300 for radiology
$175 for the pharmacy fees that Stacie advanced her
$400 to have the car destroyed
$2,000 max to buy a new car
$800 of immunosuppressive treatment per month
$725 for the nurse who came to do her bandages for two weeks
$300 rent per month
$95 per session of physiotherapy
In front of her, her computer showed her bank's application where she could see the summary of withdrawals and above all, the amount of the balance in her current bank account: - $126.33. Her parents had not given her any money since the start of the school year. Chloe had relied on her savings until now. And since her parents had decided to abandon her completely, she was determined to fend for herself. She did the math quickly on the calculator on her phone. The total burned the eyes. She was going to have to come up with more than seven thousand dollars if she wanted to stay out of trouble. She thought about it and realized she could do without a car for the moment, she shouldn't travel anyway. She crossed out the line given to the new car. Only $5,445 left to repay and plan so much more for the year. To this list would be added unforeseen events, accidents, outings with the Bellas, clothes or supplies to replace...
Chloe put her head in her hands and sighed. The sheet fell to the ground and the redhead growled. Her new splint prevented her from moving just as much as the cast. She slowly extricated herself from the stool and placed both feet on the floor. The battle between her balance, gravity, and the grip of the ground in socks began. She went down on her moving leg very slowly, her hand outstretched towards the piece of paper. Her fingers were about to touch the sheet when the front door opened wide, letting in the winter wind and Cynthia Rose coming home from class. In surprise, Chloe slipped and ended up on her butt, the sheet of paper several meters away from her now. Cynthia heard her groan and rushed to pick her up.
"Shit, Chloe, are you okay? How long have you been down?"
"It's fine. I was trying to pick up this sheet of paper, don't worry."
The two young women got up and Cynthia went to get the sheet in question, taking a look at it.
"What is it?" She asked. Cynthia Rose was the one with the least means in the whole house. Although she comes from a military family, her parents cut her off when she told them about her homosexuality. She then came to see Chloe to talk to her about her difficulties and to warn her that she would no longer be able to participate in the Bellas, since the competitions and stage outfits required occasional but significant participation. Chloe then told her that they would find a way to work things out. They then discussed it together and the Bellas decided to all increase their participations to cover that of Cynthia Rose. Since then, the African American woman had found a part-time job and was able to support herself on her own. Even though Chloe knew full well that Cynthia Rose wouldn't judge her, she scowled and snatched the paper from her hands.
"It's nothing, just the count for my treatment to notify my parents. Do you know what time the others get home?" Cynthia immediately understood that Chloe was trying to change the subject but didn't mind. She watched as she hastily put her computer back into its case. She wasn't used to confronting Chloe. Beca, that was another story...
"Beca and Stacie shouldn't be long. Lucy is coming this afternoon."
"Yes and Beca has to meet her lawyer."
"That's it… You know, I'm not going to insist on knowing. But sooner or later, a certain brunette who plays music a little loudly will see your difficulties and won't be able to help but ask questions."
Chloe stopped in her tracks and slowly turned to Cynthia, her eyebrows furrowed. The African American woman pointed to the sheet of paper she had picked up. Chloe's gaze dropped gravely to the ground.
"What Beca doesn't know won't hurt her." Cynthia was going to tell her how stupid she was for thinking like that but the front door opened again to let in Stacie, Beca and Amy who were also returning from class, but with their hands full of shopping bags. The African American woman hurried to help them tidy up but didn't miss Chloe's shaky escapade as she slipped away up the stairs.
Santana rang the intercom and waited a few seconds.
"Stewart and Bucks Firm."
"Hello, I'm Santana Lopez, I have an appointment with Mr Stewart."
"Hello Miss Lopez. First on the right."
The electronic buzz sounded and the cabinet door opened. Santana was meeting the lawyer who had defended Beca and Beca's father at the time of Lucy's placement. She was supposed to meet him the day before but the man, who was very busy, finally asked her to come by that day. Santana would rather see him later than expected than not see him at all. Certain questions remained unanswered and only a colleague could clarify them.
She took the right hallway as directed, passing several office doors with gold plaques that bore the names of the lawyers working for the firm. Everyone seemed to have a different specialty. Finally, she arrived at the door bearing the name of Matthew Stewart, family rights lawyer. She knocked and didn't have to wait long before the door opened.
"Miss Lopez! I have been informed of your arrival. Did you have a nice trip?" The dark-haired man in his forties wore a dark blue suit, a white shirt with thin pale red stripes and a red tie. He immediately held out one hand to her and placed the second on her shoulder to invite her in. Santana placed her bag on one of the chairs in front of Matthew and took off her coat. She pulled out Beca's file and placed it on the desk before sitting down.
"As mentioned in the emails I sent you, I mainly came to clarify certain points with you concerning the Beca Mitchell's case and the placement of her daughter." Santana began."Yes, of course, I will try to help you as much as I can." The lawyer replied, returning to his desk, hands crossed.
Santana opened the file. The first page contained a list of questions to which she did not yet have answers. "First of all, can you tell me when you became involved in the matter? I remember that Mr. Mitchell did not contact you straight away."
"No, actually. I came into the case when Beca had already been separated from her daughter. I met Doctor Mitchell at a conference at the university. I don't take part in this type of event very often, but I found it an interesting issue that attempted to examine the influence of literature in our social relationships within the family. Professor Mitchell already knew who I was when he questioned me. He asked me to meet out of the conference to discuss the subject of his daughter. We spoke the very next day and I decided to help them."
"At this time, Beca no longer had custody of Lucy but the judgment had not yet taken place."
"That's right. Lucy was still in the custody of social services. The father did not yet have custody." Santana wrote down everything she could in her notebook without looking up between her questions. Matthew Stewart looked at her without flinching. "What were your first impressions of the case? Did you find the procedure typical of what usually happens?"
"I immediately thought that there was something unclear in all the information I had collected. The procedure to separate Lucy from Beca was so quick. Never, ever, even when children are truly in danger, is the procedure applied so quickly. Even less a few days after the birth of the child."
"You therefore pleaded procedural violation to the judge."
"Obviously! They took a child from their mother when she was just born. Even when it comes to an alcoholic or abusive mother, she almost always retains visitation rights." Matthew's voice grew strong, he was being carried away at the disbelief of the situation. Santana began to hear the man's opinion behind the lawyer's discipline.
"This is also what I noticed. Why wasn't Lucy given to Doctor Mitchell?"
"For several reasons, whether good or bad. First, Lucy's father was still present so he had priority in the allocation of rights. Then, because Doctor Mitchell was discredited in the same way as Beca in court. You should know that Beca's parents divorced when she was younger, for adultery. Beca's father didn't really show up in the years that followed. Since he wasn't close to Beca, he couldn't be close to his granddaughter either." Santana shook her head, overwhelmed by the injustices that seemed to multiply in this case.
"The procedural flaw didn't work then?"
"No, the judge considered that the danger had been immediate when Lucy was born, that the hospital services and Lucy's father had acted in time and therefore that the procedure had been applied as required."
"Why did Beca get the right to see her daughter so late then?" Matthew Stewart huffed and leaned over the desk to approach Santana. "Miss Lopez, we are talking among people in the profession. So I can be completely honest with you. For me, the opposing party orchestrated everything. I searched for evidence for a long time afterward, without results. They hid their tracks well."
Finally, someone said out loud what everyone seemed to think about this case without daring to say it. Santana leaned on the desk as well, electrified by the lawyer's words. "In my opinion, the judge was a friend of the family. I have photos of him leaving a dinner with the opposing party. The photos were taken after the judgment and therefore inadmissible in court. Anonymous testimonies recounting Beca's violence in high school came out of nowhere. These testimonies were taken into account, even though we both know that written testimony is not real evidence in court." Santana reeled off.
"Exactly! Beca couldn't even make it at the trial. The poor girl was interned for a short while for events that took place months before."
"I hadn't heard of this brief visit in psychiatry. Was she being followed by doctors there?"
"Yes, you'd have to ask her though, I don't have the names in mind anymore. Luckily, I managed to quickly get her out of there. But in her campaign to regain custody of her daughter, she had to undergo sessions with several psychologists to examine her psychology."
"Very well, I'm meeting her later today, anyway. She didn't tell me everything." Santana started to put her things away. The man got up and walked around the desk while waiting for the brunette to finish dressing.
"Thank you, Mr Stewart, for this meeting." Santana said finally, holding out her hand.
"Thank you for taking over this case. Beca and Lucy deserve better than this."
"I agree. I hope I succeed in clarifying this whole story."
"Don't hesitate if I can be of any use to you. Good luck, Miss Lopez." The man nodded and opened the door for her. Santana walked away with a confident step.
Now she had to go to Beca's house. The little brunette hadn't confided everything to her. She still had questions to ask.
The long complaints no longer stopped. Maria had arrived with a sleeping but sick Lucy. The child had an ear infection due to teething. She had woken up right for snack time, in a mood that was very much like her mother's when she woke up. Beca looked at her daughter who she held at arm's length. Lucy was moaning, crying her eyes out, her cheeks bright red and puffy. Stacie, Amy and Jessica were with her in the living room. The others were scattered around the house, busy with homework or household chores. Beca had been surprised to hear Chloe complaining about being tired and to see her coming up the stairs just before Lucy and Maria arrived.
"I don't know what to do. She doesn't stop anymore. Nothing makes her feel better." Beca said in alarm. She couldn't stand seeing Lucy suffer so much. Maria came closer and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Unfortunately, there isn't much more you can do. She got her medicine, we tried to give her some things to chew, you cuddled her. Sometimes you must accept that you can't solve everything for them. Just be present." Beca took in the social worker's words. She wasn't wrong. She could only wait for it to pass.
"I'm going to walk her around the house for a bit. Maybe it will distract her." She placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead and positioned her against her before getting up from the couch. She moved forward, rocking her. They began by exploring the kitchen. Beca stopped in front of the window and hummed some notes she thought would calm Lucy. The little girl in her arms chewed on her little fist and continued to cry. Beca showed her the rare birds they could see passing by. Winter had set in, there weren't many animals outside anymore. She walked around the central island and back through the living room, rocking Lucy. Her friends smiled at her then continued their discussion with Maria.
Beca began her climb up the stairs. She figured that paying a little visit to each of the girls could also entertain Lucy and accentuate their bond. On the first floor, only Chloe's room was ajar. Beca wanted to let her rest a little more so she headed towards Ashley and Jessica's room. She knocked and Ashley said she could come in. "We came to say hello!" Beca said a little loudly to get over Lucy's cries. "Oh, but you're so sad, sweetheart!"
"Her ears hurt because of her teeth."
"Oh, the whole thing!"
Ashley gently caressed Lucy's cheek, who calmed down for a moment at meeting someone new. Then the crying started again. The two young women laughed softly. "It will pass, I promise." Ashley said, placing her lips on Lucy's hand.
"We'll continue our exploration." Beca winked out of the room, closing the door. Lucy had nestled into her neck and she felt the salty pearls rolling over her skin. She wondered for a moment if it was better to leave Chloe or on the contrary, if the redhead would be angry with her for not having seen Lucy. She wanted to see her anyway so she felt her way to her door and gently pushed it open. Chloe was sitting at her desk, her head in her hands and only the computer in front of her lit the room. Hearing Lucy cry, she turned quickly, closing the flap of her computer.
"I didn't hear you coming." The redhead said guiltily. "Do you want us to come back later?"
"No of course not! You seem very sad, little Lulu!" Beca smiled and walked over, explaining the reason for her crying. Chloe stood up slowly and met them halfway. "That's not what hurts the least." Chloe grimaced. She ran a hand through the child's hair and Lucy immediately lifted her head from her mother's shoulder and stopped crying. Beca opened her eyes in surprise. As if by chance, Chloe managed to captivate her daughter.
"She's been crying for at least half an hour." Beca said, disbelieving. "The magic of the Beales." Chloe winked and reached out to Lucy to ask if she wanted to come to her. The little brunette didn't need to be asked twice and joined Chloe's arms. "Better and better." Beca commented. Chloe laughed before placing a kiss on each of Lucy's wet cheeks. The little girl had apparently calmed down at the sight of Chloe, which left Beca speechless. "Okay, I'll leave you to it." Beca said, turning around, pretending to be offended. "No!" Chloe caught her arm with one hand. The redhead almost toppled over and Beca came over to stabilize her by wrapping her arms around her.
"Easy, Beale. You're responsible for two very important people to me right now."
"Really?" Beca smiled. Her gaze moved to Chloe's lips and she leaned in to kiss her gently. They had not yet been alone that day. Well, alone wasn't the right word. Lucy watched them push back a little, her brows furrowed. She kept her eyes fixed on Beca. Suddenly, she placed her small hand a little hard over Beca's mouth and Chloe winced at the smacking sound. Beca laughed heartily then kissed Lucy's hand. The little girl then turned to Chloe and made the same gesture. Chloe pretended to eat Lucy's hand and the baby burst out laughing.
"You're so cute, little monkey!" Chloe exclaimed, laughing. "Little monkey? You have a knack for finding nicknames!"
"Oh, are you jealous, honey? I'll call you little monkey too, the others will love it!"
"Don't even dare!" Beca replied, blushing. Chloe laughed at Beca's reaction. They hadn't had time to discuss their relationship or what they expected from each other. The nicknames and tender gestures were still first times. Beca knew Chloe and knew how loving and tactile she was, but they weren't just friends anymore. The situation had changed and so had the intentions behind the words and gestures. She still had to get used to all the attention Chloe gave her.
"Beca? Your lawyer is here!" Stacie shouted from downstairs. "Save by the bell!" Chloe said, returning Lucy to her mother. "You're coming down?"
Chloe glanced at her computer. Her heart was torn between the need to find a solution to her problem and her desire to spend time with Beca and support her in her own difficulties. As usual, she put her problems aside and decided she would rather worry about Beca. She nodded and slowly followed her to the kitchen where Santana was waiting for them.
The flashing letters showed the words Strip and Club in purple, but some of the letters were missing bulbs. Rachel had looked at these letters dozens of times. The owner had to change them for at least two months, for sure.
Long vibrations rang out in her pocket. The little brunette took out her phone and her eyes read the first name displayed but did not take them in. Her body taunted her heart. Tonight was freedom guaranteed. She put the phone back in her pocket and took three steps through the door.
Quinn didn't listen to the end of the voicemail.
When Beca came down the stairs, she thought Quinn was going to kill her. All the Bellas were flocking around the lawyer like vultures. The Hispanic was already a sensation. Quinn had told them about her best friend, sexy, lawyer, sexy and above all married to her other best friend (just as sexy). She could already see how Quinn could dump her body in a hole and pour lime on it to make it disappear.
"Girls, we need to talk, can you leave us please?" Beca announced, handing Lucy to Maria. The child clung to her mother with all her strength and began to cry again. Beca looked helplessly at Maria, then Chloe, and finally Santana, silently asking them to tell her what to do.
"She can stay with you. Might as well enjoy the moments you spend together, right?" Santana smiled, getting up to welcome Beca. The entire Bella troop had dispersed. Well, except Stacie and Cynthia Rose who remained hanging on the lawyer's lips, both leaning against the arcade of the dining room. Chloe noticed them and smiled. She passed between the two and put her hand in their faces.
"You two, in the kitchen. I need help with dinner tonight."
"But it's only four!"
"Stacie, Aubrey is coming tonight." Stacie immediately stopped complaining and rushed into the kitchen under the laughing gazes of the three women in the room. "Good. Now that we're alone, maybe we can start." The Hispanic woman pointed to the table. Beca looked at the furniture as if she had just encountered a new species then came back to Earth, changed Lucy's position in her arms, and came to sit down.
"So you're Lucy." Santana said towards the little girl. The child didn't even lift her head from her mother's shoulder. She had secured Beca's hair in her hand and attempted to nestle into her neck. "Maria, could you bring her elephant, please?" The social worker nodded eagerly and returned a few seconds later with the stuffed elephant. Beca held the stuffed animal against Lucy's face, and Lucy didn't hesitate to hide in it. Santana smiles at the innocence and tenderness of the scene. "She's close to you now."
Beca's lips stretched and her sparkling eyes watched her daughter for a few moments with pride. Maria suddenly felt like she wasn't supposed to stay and informed them that she was also going to help in the kitchen.
"So I have several questions to ask you. But first, I met your former lawyer. Very nice."
"Really ?"
"Yes, he confirmed some of my suspicions. On the other hand, he also told me that you had spent time in a psychiatric hospital." The two words fell like a ladle into pancake batter. Beca stayed with her mouth open for a moment before clearing her throat. "It's true. I ignored that part of the problems that Julian caused me."
"I see. How did that happen?" Beca didn't expect these kinds of questions. Usually the question after "psychiatric hospital" was: where are the toilets? And the person disappeared without a trace.
"It was long and... heavy. I had nothing to do there." Beca watched as Santana wrote down two lines in her notebook without being able to read what was written. "Did it help you?" The brunette huffed in annoyance. Her look said a lot about what she thought about this specific subject. "I didn't need help." Santana wrote in her notebook again. "Would you go back if it was the only way to get your daughter back?" Beca then lost her patience. "I am not crazy. Did I learn anything there? Yes, that group therapy serves no purpose other than humiliating you, that civil servant food is disgusting, and that if I wanted to get out of it, I could only count on myself. If you don't trust me, I don't see why you want to defend my case!"
The lawyer leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms, a victorious smile on her face. Her mischievous eyes gauged Beca's state. The brunette was red with anger and out of breath. Santana leaned down to place her hand on her notebook and turned it to show her client what she had written there. Beca could read: Confident, sane, certain that she is not sick and has no problem bringing it up as a past act. "I don't understand. Why these questions then?" The musician asked, dazed. "To be able to build your defense and prepare your testimony in court, I need to know your personality but also the reactions you might have in relation to certain subjects or behaviors with which you have been accused." At Beca's silence, Santana continued.
"You saw me writing and you immediately thought I was judging you. It's wrong. The fact that you don't think you're sick can be a good thing or a bad thing. Certainly, this reveals a reality. You are not. This is what your psychiatrists will tell me when I go to see them."
"You're going to meet them?"
"Of course. I need to know the entire situation to be prepared for all eventualities." Beca reflected on this for a moment. She glanced at her daughter, sleeping against her. "You said it could be a bad thing."
"Yes, because it can come across as denial." Santana took on a nasal voice. "She's so crazy she doesn't even see that she's a danger to her daughter. Something like that." Beca laughed. It sounded like Julian's mother's voice. "So now I want to know everything." Beca nodded. There was still a lot to take into consideration. Santana quickly went through her mental list. There were still important subjects to discuss: Beca's studies, her work, her social relationships.
"Will Lucy have contact with a male role model?" The musician opened her eyes wide. Where was the link? "Um, yes, my father, Jessie…"
"That's all?"
"I'm only surrounded by women so yes." Even though Beca didn't understand why this question was important, Santana wrote it down. It could still be useful. "What about your studies? Do you think you'll go all the way? Do you think you'll be able to attend school and raise a child at the same time?"
"I think that nothing is impossible when you want it. I learned to ask for help. And even if I remain the person she spends the most time with, Lucy can always be looked after by my parents or my friends."
"In theory, it works. But what about taking classes after a sleepless night cuddling a teething child?" Santana was being unfair, she knew it but it was part of her job. She saw Beca's face fall. Doubts took the place of the determination she had shown until then.
"She'll be okay."
"We will all be there to help her." Chloe, Stacie and Cynthia Rose had appeared under the arcade. Beca quickly turned to look at them, tears in her eyes from a mind overwhelmed with the possibility of failure. "Promises won't work in the court, ladies."
"We don't talk about promises. We talk about love and helping each other." Cynthia Rose reacted. "And if necessary, we will all go and testify in this damn court. Beca and Lucy are no longer alone."
Santana's lips stretched wider and wider. She held her spearhead for her pleading. She turned her attention to the mother and child and placed her hand on the forearm of the brunette who reminded her so much of her best friend.
"I was trying to get a rise out of you, don't worry. If you don't know how to answer, your friends will do it for you." Beca pulled a scowl. She preferred to be able to defend herself alone, without having to involve all her friends in this, but sometimes, you had to accept that you needed help. Santana tried to unlock her phone to see the time but the cellphone was out of battery.
"Shit, can I borrow a plug from you to charge my phone?"
"Yes, in the corner, by the lamp." Beca said. The three friends came to leave the trays of drinks and appetizers for which they had originally come and then returned to the kitchen. Santana came back to her seat and stole an olive before continuing her questions. "Regarding the layout, have you thought about it? Here, or at your father's?"
"Initially, we agreed with my father that it was better at his place but his wife does not completely agree. Then Amy told we could rearrange the upstairs loft so that I could only be with Lucy, so…"
"I see. You should move forward a little in purchasing supplies, furniture, etc. You have to be able to show the court that you are ready for Lucy."
"Alright. But I wanted to ask you: you only talk about the court, yet no hearing is planned. And I was told you couldn't defend me." The Hispanic offered her a smirk. She reached into her bag and pulled out an official document.
"Congratulations, your ex-in-laws are so stupid that they moved the process forward. We have a meeting in two months in the court." Beca grabs the paper without really believing it. Finally, she would be able to defend herself, to make herself heard. With tears in her eyes, she would have hugged Santana. "But how? So fast? I don't understand."
"When they arrived at the foster care center with open arms, they allowed Maria to make a report to the judge in charge of Lucy. As they made themselves known and not necessarily for good, the judge felt that things had to be sped up in view of Lucy's young age but also, and surely, because he knows Maria. Luckily for us, it's not the same as last time."
"You're kidding? They did us a favor."
"Exactly. You can thank Maria. This is thanks to her report and her good relationship with the judge. All I did was answer the phone and sign the papers. Then my manager got wind of my activities outside the firm and asked me to take the case, as a sort of test. He will plead for you in court because I don't have official permission to do so yet but everything else will come from me."
"That's great! It's finally moving forward! I will be able to prepare her room!" With so much excitement, the little girl finally woke up. Beca rocked her gently. "We'll get there, sweetheart. I promise you won't leave again." Santana could only be touched by the relationship Beca had with her daughter. The brunette was busy with the baby so she took the opportunity to check her phone. She had thirty percent battery but above all seven missed calls from Quinn. Something had happened. Santana called her immediately and tucked her phone between her shoulder and ear to hastily put her things away.
"This is Quinn. Leave a message."
"Shit!"
"Is everything okay?" Beca asked.
"An emergency, I need to go. Try to make progress on furnishing the room. The two months will pass quickly. We keep in touch." The lawyer placed a kiss on Lucy's forehead and flew out the door, but not without throwing a "Bye girls" over her shoulder. Beca continued to rock Lucy, ignoring Santana's departure. She was so happy and filled with hope by the news she had just received. She was already thinking about what type of bed to choose for Lucy.
Chloe was serving the food at the table when Aubrey entered. As usual, the blonde was dressed to the nines. Dressed in a light gray suit and a turtleneck, her hair impeccable, the ex-captain of the Bellas could not make a better impression on the group of girls who welcomed her. Chloe stood against the arcade to wait her turn. She observed the hugs and jokes that were exchanged.
"You really need to come back! Chloe is making us go through hell with her cardio, it's worse than yours!" Amy complained with folded hands. Chloe cleared her throat humorously. Amy loved making Aubrey believe that practice was going terribly so she could get her back on stage. It was her way of telling her she missed her.
"Chlo!" Aubrey rushed at her and wrapped her arms around her so tightly that she almost healed all the cracks. Chloe nuzzled the blonde's neck. She missed her best friend.
"We were waiting for you." The redhead smiled. The young women gathered around the table and sat down to eat in an atmosphere of reunion. "So, going back to my fall last night…"
"Amy, that's enough! The training is going very well and you just should have danced with the right shoes. Aubrey was still on video with us last week to help us." Beca grumbled.
"I'm just saying that now that our two captains are together, their judgments might be clouded. Aubrey could help us see things more clearly." Amy continued, swallowing two forkfuls of spaghetti. An abnormal silence invaded the table; the forks remained in the air. Beca buried her face in her hands. Chloe looked at Amy, offended, as if insinuating her power over Beca was worse than revealing their relationship in front of Aubrey. The tall blonde continued to eat.
"Congratulations, ladies, you have finally opened your eyes. It's about time!" Aubrey finally said. At the lack of reaction around the table, Aubrey first looked up at Stacie, who was staring at her open-mouthed. Then she looked over each face. All were decomposed. She started to laugh.
"Did you really think I was going to react badly?"
"Well, let's just say we all know that you're not Beca's biggest fan…" Cynthia Rose shrugged. Aubrey turned her head towards Beca, to Stacie's right, who was no longer hiding but watching the discussion, looking horrified. "Beca is one of my sisters. Just as much as each of you. They are both old enough to make their own choice. And if they find their happiness in each other, then I am no one to stop them."
"Disgusting!" Amy commented. Beca gave Aubrey a wet look and breathed a thank you, even though she would have denied any emotion. The blonde winked back before putting down her cutlery and wiping her mouth with a napkin.
"By the way, speaking of news, I have one for you. I was offered to open a lodge, not very far from here. I will be the manager."
"Are you staying?!" Stacie asked. "Not right now." Aubrey laughed. "But within two months, I will be working half an hour from the University."
Congratulations and cheers arose around the table. Stacie had a bright smile and bright eyes. Chloe smiled brightly too. She had lost two parents but gained a best friend in return. Without knowing it, Cynthia Rose and Beca shared the same thought: Aubrey present, that meant more reinforcements to take care of Chloe.
Santana took the stairs two at a time and banged on the door to Quinn and Rachel's apartment. Quinn found her there, both hands on her knees. She was wearing a coat and was obviously getting ready to go out.
"San'! Finally! I called you seven times!"
"I know. My phone...had no more...battery. I came here… as quickly as possible." She articulated between two breaths. "San', it's serious. I don't know where Rachel is. I called her dozens of times but she doesn't answer. She should have been home more than two hours ago." Santana pondered for a moment. Rachel couldn't be far away and even if the city wasn't the safest in the world, it wasn't New York either.
"Where was she the last time you heard from her?"
"I haven't heard from her since this morning when she left for dance school." Quinn showed her her phone where the messages with Rachel were displayed.
From Quinn to Little Star 3, 10:08 a.m.: Can't wait for tonight, I can't stand this day anymore!
From Quinn to Little Star 3, 11:36 a.m.: We're having Thai delivered tonight, sweetheart?
From Quinn to Little Star 3, 1:11 p.m.: I came home early, I finally made us dinner, didn't take anything on the way. I love you!
From Quinn to Little Star 3, 4:41 p.m.: Only an hour left, hold on, sweetie!
From Quinn to Little Star 3, 6:55 p.m.: Rach', what time do you think you'll be back? You're starting to worry me.
From Quinn to Little Star 3, 8:02 p.m.: Seriously, Rachel. Answer the damn phone.
The more Santana read the discussion, the more her eyebrows furrowed to the point where they were nothing more than an ugly, annoyed line on her forehead. "Let's think… We're going to go back to where it was and take the opposite route."
"Not worth it. I looked at her location using social media. The last time her phone was located, she was on Washington Street."
"Okay… And what's over there?"
"Abandoned buildings and that." Quinn pointed to a picture of a poorly lit, crude bar. Santana pouted in disgust. "Okay, you put the GPS on, let's go." The blonde locked the door and quickly sent a message to her employee in charge of evening service to warn him that she had a problem. The two young women trotted up the stairs. Deep down, Santana feared the worst.
Aubrey joined Cynthia Rose and Stacie who were on the terrace, surrounded by blankets, busy looking at the stars and telling each other the latest gossip. She distributed the hot chocolates then sat down next to Stacie but the swing on which they were sitting tilted and brought her even closer to the brunette. The two women looked at each other, their cheeks red.
"By the way, girls, I need to talk to you about something important. It's about Chloe." Cynthia Rose said, not caring what was going on between them. Aubrey nodded quickly as if to tell her to continue.
"I think she's hiding things from us. I caught her doing her counts last time. She told me she was making a list of what she had to pay to send it to her parents but I doubt it, especially given how they were in the hospital. The girls came home before I could ask more."
"I don't see how this concerns us. Chloe is an adult. If she has money problems, she's the only one concerned." Stacie said, a little tiredly. "No, you're wrong. Chloe has always had the support of her parents until now. I'll ask Beca if they've asked about her since she got back from the hospital."
"I hope it's not that bad.' Cynthia Rose said before taking a sip and then getting up. 'Okay, I'll leave you to it. Make good choices." She left with a wink. Stacie and Aubrey instinctively moved closer. The brunette laid her head on the blonde's shoulder with a sigh of contentment.
"Do you really think she's in trouble?" Stacie asked in a small voice. "I hope not. It'll be fine, don't worry. Chloe always comes through."
"Anyway, the fact that you are closer now should do her a lot of good. She has become withdrawn since her accident."
"Yes, I know. Even with me." Stacie gave her a disappointed pout and took her hand. They stayed there, in silence, drinking their cups and hoping for the best for their friends.
Washington Street should be ashamed of having that name. George Washington would never have appreciated being associated with residents as dilapidated as the homes they inhabited. The street, although lined with lampposts, was dark and empty. Except for the gutters which housed a few families of rats, the few people Quinn and Santana encountered seemed lost or guilty. They walked close together as if brushing against a wall would give them the plague or cholera. The clicks of their footsteps on the asphalt reverberated off the walls. The cold of a now very present winter did not help anything and caused them to shiver. Humidity seeped into coat sleeves and made noses run. Everything was done to make their blood run cold. In front of the club with its purple letters, Santana and Quinn sized up the entrance as if it opened into the mouth of a filthy monster that was spitting out saturated sounds from which they could never come out again.
"So, Little Star is in there?" The Latina asked, unconvinced. "I was just thinking I was missing a comment on the nickname I give to my girlfriend." Quinn replied sarcastically. "Come on."
The bass echoed through both of their bodies as soon as they walked through the door. A security guard looked at them awkwardly but said nothing. In front of the mass of people rubbing against each other and the scantily clad girls on platforms dancing around steel bars, the two young women felt lost.
"What did she come here to do?" Santana asked to herself. "Test the unknown?" Quinn suggested. The blonde moved through the crowd and quickly understood that she would never be able to find a little brunette among all these walking bodies. "Come here!" Santana took her by the hand to lead her out of the crowd. They headed towards a table where there were still half-full glasses and a bottle of vodka in an ice bucket but no one around. The brunette climbed onto a bench and scanned the dance floor. Quinn did the same thing.
After a few minutes, none of them had found Rachel. Quinn was starting to despair. Santana continued to scan the sweaty faces in hopes of catching a glimpse of her friend. Instead, she came upon the bathroom door and had a flash of revelation. Rachel always ended up in the bathroom when they were in high school. The alcohol, perspiration and music combined disgusted her so she systematically took refuge against the bathroom tiles. Where it was cool. Where bad music resonated the least.
"Quinn! This way!" The brunette took her friend by the hand and led her into the toilets where a couple greeted them. They were kissing so roughly that Santana felt nauseous. "Ah… Go lick your tonsils somewhere else!" She called out, passing between them to separate them.
There, in a corner near a sink, slumped between the tiles and a man in his forties, was Rachel. Quinn rushed towards her, not noticing the man with the syringe still in his arm and vomit on his shirt. But Santana had seen it clearly and had to shake herself out of her shock. She placed two fingers on the man's wrist and covered his ear with the other hand. A distinct pulse immediately reassured her. One less problem.
"Rach'! Wake up! Come on, Rachel!" Quinn was shaking the little brunette without getting any real reaction. Rachel muttered a few words and moved her head but kept her eyes closed. Santana pulled a case out of her pocket that held several flat card stock rods. She took one from the case and gripped Rachel's jaw with one hand, sliding the tab over her tongue with the other.
"What is it?" Quinn asked, alarmed. "A multi-drug test. To find out if she needs a stomach wash or if we can go home."
"And you carry one with you all the time?" Quinn wondered. "Yes, well, in my briefcase. I picked them up in the car. Not all of my clients are innocent and calm like Beca. Sometimes I need to have evidence myself against them to help them..." Quinn took it silently. She thought she had already witnessed a fair amount of the reality of this world, but clearly it still wasn't enough.
Santana removed the tab and watched as two bars of color appeared on the paper. With a sigh, she showed it to Quinn, looking serious. "Green is cannabis, blue is cocaine. Two out of nine is already a good score." The blonde looked at her distraught and with alarmed eyes. She didn't know what to answer. She felt responsible for the state Rachel found herself in but she didn't understand why she had done this to herself. Santana grabbed Rachel under the arms and lifted her up as gently as possible.
"Damn, she's heavier than she looks." Quinn put one arm over her shoulders, Santana took the other, and the two of them dragged Rachel out of that disgusting place without ever looking back.
"The white one is not bad, I really like it!" Chloe commented, pointing at the computer. "Yes but I'm afraid I'll have to spend my time cleaning it. Sticky little fingers make the white dirty too quickly." Beca added. "But white is cheaper than oak-colored brown."
"Because the brown one is progressive, she could keep it until she is three years old." Chloe and Beca were lying on their stomachs next to each other on Beca's bed and browsing furniture catalogs online. Currently the choice was which bed Beca was going to choose for Lucy. "It's true that in this case, you might as well take the brown one."
"I need to see if my father agrees. I'll send him the link." Beca had told everything to her father immediately after her meeting with Santana. The day they were going to court, Lucy would already have her room set up and tidy. David had guaranteed her. He was so happy to see things moving forward, too, that he offered to help with the expenses. Beca had openly refused. This was followed by blackmail between father and daughter. He had finally won his case: he could offer his granddaughter's bed, but Beca would manage the rest.
"It's really nice of him to have offered to participate."
"Yes, sometimes I feel like he's trying to make up for the time we all lost without Lucy." Chloe rolled her eyes. Only Beca believed that her father was only in her life for his granddaughter. "I think he's mainly trying to be there for his daughter like a normal father."
"Hm, maybe…" Chloe looked at Beca. She was focused on the web page that now showed children's dressers. She had matured so much so suddenly. Chloe realized that she no longer saw her as a teenager fresh from high school. The image she had of Beca had changed. Beca was now a woman and a mother ready to take on anyone who told her otherwise. She painfully realized that she loved this person even more than the teenager she had met a year and a half earlier.
"Beale, stop staring, it's rude…" Beca taunted with a deep voice and a smirk. Chloe smiled to herself and stood up with difficulty with the leg she couldn't bend. She kissed Beca on the head. "I'm going to the bathroom, I'm coming back. Don't choose without me."
"I will not dare. I wouldn't want to do a Fashion Faux Pas over furniture in YOUR house." Beca replied, imitating the TV host who presented the show Chloe loved to watch. The redhead laughed heartily, shaking her head. If her hell was to be made fun of all her life for the shows she watched by Beca Mitchell, she would never complain about it.
On the way to the toilets, she passed Aubrey who was coming up. "Hey, Chlo', I'm looking for Beca. Is she up there?"
"Yes, you can go." The redhead smiled, going down step by step. "You need help?" Aubrey asked, who had suddenly realized her friend's difficulties. "No, don't worry. I'm used to it."
Aubrey didn't insist. She knew Chloe's stubborn temperament and knew when to insist and especially when not to. She continued her climb and knocked on the door frame before going up. "Can I come in?"
"Yeeeees!" Beca said playfully. Aubrey understood from her response that she was in a playful mood and smiled. Beca was rarely this cheerful around her. The blonde sat down on the end of the bed and turned towards the musician. "Oh dear, that looks like a big discussion, that, Posen." Aubrey smiled wider and turned her gaze to the bedroom walls. She noticed the photos of the Bellas, the ones with Lucy, an ultrasound, concert tickets, all pinned up. She noticed boxes already filled on Amy's side.
"Amy is moving?"
"She will share her room with one of the girls on the floor below to make room for Lucy."
"Ah! So, the bets are off?" Beca laughed and got up to put her computer on the desk. "There's a bet on who she will share her room with her. I bet on Stacy. And there's the one about how long her roommate will put up with her. I bet two weeks." Beca said, counting on her fingers. "Oh, ambitious! I will have gone down to a week."
"It depends, if she has a boyfriend during this period of time, it could last longer!" Beca discussed. They laughed together. It was rare for them to share this kind of moment. Usually, Chloe was the instigator. They were never alone long enough to really talk. When Beca saw Aubrey's face look serious again, she knew she wasn't there for nothing.
"We need to talk about Chloe." Aubrey began. At Beca's disappointed look, Aubrey felt obliged to add with a roll of her eyes. "Not about your relationship. About her health problems."
"Ah, I prefer it. I thought for a moment that you were going back on your words from earlier."
"No, I was sincere. But I can only blame myself for your reaction. It's just the consequence of the way I treated you until recently."
"It's in the past, Aubrey…"
"Maybe, but it doesn't matter. I want you to know that I'm here for you, just as I am for all of my other sisters." Beca stood in silence, the tips of her shoes suddenly very interesting. She fiddled with her hands without knowing what to say. "You wanted to talk about Chloe?" Aubrey smiled at Beca's not-so-subtle way of shifting the focus away from herself. "How has she been since I left? She hasn't really given me any news in recent weeks."
"Physically, she's getting better. Her leg is healing well and soon she will be able to remove the splint. Rehabilitation is difficult. For the moment, she doesn't want me to participate. But constantly walking around on her leg helps."
"All right. But mentally?"
The musician sighed. Obviously, you could count on Aubrey to dissect every part of a conversation and dig into the details. "She doesn't say anything. She doesn't confide. She keeps everything and I suspect she has it harder than she pretends. I think she's suffering. I also know that she doesn't take her medication for her kidney problems. At least, not the way she should."
"Did you talk to her about all this? She needs to take her medication, it's important, Beca!"
"I know! But you know her. The only time I confronted her, she shut up like an oyster and I had to apologize for pushing too hard."
"But Beca, she has to take care of herself! Where does this trend of not taking her medication come from? It looks like anything but Chloe."
"I don't know! She doesn't talk about anything and these subjects are taboo. She changes the subject as soon as we barely touch it. And I know I'm supposed to look after her and take care of her and make sure she heals properly but I can't be everywhere!" Aubrey immediately stood up when she heard Beca panicking so much. She could already see the anxiety paralyzing her. She interrupted her by placing both hands on her shoulders.
"Hey, calm down. First of all, you are not her mother. Then, in addition to having your daughter to manage, you have seven other kids who must be organized into a group so that they sound right." Beca laughed at the way Aubrey summed things up. Of course, none of them saw the Bellas as a burden. But as captains, they understood each other.
Sometimes, managing so many people and moods was extremely complicated. This required watchmaker precision. Each had their personal, family, romantic concerns, in addition to classes, extra-curricular activities, and the stress of succeeding. Being captain of a team also meant knowing how to step aside to deal with the problems of others.
"You're right. It's just very disturbing to see Chloe like this. She hardly talks about herself anymore in fact. She withdraws all the time when we talk about her injuries or her parents."
"Did she have any contact with them since the accident?"
"More or less. Her father called just before the cast was taken off. I was there but she didn't talk about what they said. I don't know if he's called her back since." The blonde nodded, her lips tight. Chloe's relationship with her parents had always been a complex subject to discuss. "Beca, between you and me, I need to ask you quickly, before she comes back. Cynthia told me about a list of things she had to pay for. Apparently, Chloe is in financial difficulty. Did she tell you about it?"
"Absolutely not. We never talk about these things. Even for the Bellas, she's the one who manages the rent and house bills, the rentals we take when we're on the move. She never asks for help, in fact."
"It's Chloe... You say she doesn't talk about herself anymore. I would rather say that she never talks about herself."
"You're right. Besides, I just remembered that at the hospital, when the cast was removed, the medical secretary asked her why the bills for her hospitalization were not paid. And I saw that she was on her bank account app earlier when I entered her room. She closed the computer quickly, as if she was hiding something."
"It's strange. I'll talk to her about it." Aubrey decided, a finger on her chin. "She won't answer you." Beca was adamant. She knew this was a subject Chloe avoided like the plague. But if anyone could make her talk, it was Aubrey.
"Then I will use strong means." Beca raised her eyebrows. Aubrey Posen, who used all the means at her disposal, was truly frightening. Chloe strangely chooses this moment to reappear, her hands full of a tray with glasses of water and bowls of ice cream, a fake smile plastered on her face. Beca couldn't help herself.
"How long have you been listening to us?" The musician asked as she took the tray. Aubrey's eyes widened at Beca's frankness. She had thought the same thing but couldn't imagine hearing Beca say the words she had in mind.
"What are you talking about?" Chloe replied innocently, grabbing a bowl of ice cream to sit down heavily on the bed. "Chloe, stop taking us for idiots. We're all worried about you. Now it's time to tell us what's going on."
"But nothing's happening. What's wrong with you?"
"So are you taking your medicine correctly?" Beca asked impulsively.
"We've already had this discussion, Becs. Everyone deals with their problems as they see fit." Chloe had dismissed the question with a sentence and an angelic smile but her eyes betrayed her.
"No, that wasn't the conclusion of this discussion, Chlo'." Beca replied, emphasizing the nickname to show that she wasn't taking things lightly like Chloe. "We concluded that you had to take your medication but that you were free to talk to me about it whenever you wanted."
"I'm taking my medication, everything is fine. I assure you." Chloe smiled with all her teeth. The goofy smile that Chloe was serving them was starting to seriously annoy Aubrey who until then had not intervened. "Are your parents still paying for your studies?" She asked abruptly. Chloe looked at Aubrey so quickly that they feared for her vertebrae. She kept her mouth open, forced to admit that she didn't want to answer that question. Her silence ultimately offered them the most obvious of answers. Aubrey nodded slowly; Beca started to spin around like a caged lion, angry.
"And for your treatment? Did they at least pay the bills?" Chloe looked down and her mask began to crack under the weight of the truths. Her parents had abandoned her. She had thousands of dollars to repay. But the hardest truth lay in the look her best friend was giving her just now. She had disappointed her. The blonde nevertheless approached delicately and sat down next to Chloe to wrap her arm around her.
"Why didn't you talk about it?"
"Because it's my problem…" Chloe whispered. It was one sentence too many. Beca turned around with her arms crossed and exploded.
"Your problem? And what about all your words about trusting people if you don't apply them yourself?"
The brunette gestured widely and spoke quickly. When she approached Chloe, Aubrey intervened. "Beca, I think you should get some fresh air." The blonde advised her calmly with a hand on her chest. "No, I…" The musician was already starting to reply, her face closed. "Beca! You're not really mad at her and you know it. So go cool off outside and come back when you have solutions to offer."
The two women shared a hard look then the brunette gave up. She put on her perfecto and hurried down the stairs. A few minutes later, they heard the front door slam. Chloe buried her face in her hands and began to release everything she had accumulated for weeks or even years. The tears flowed in torrents and Aubrey just stroked her back without knowing how to stop the flow.
"Five more steps."
"Damn, she's heavy!"
"She'll be happy to hear what you think about her weight."
"I think my opinion on her weight will be the least of her worries when she wakes up, Fabray!"
The two young women climbed the last steps of the floor which took them to Quinn and Rachel's apartment. The task so far had been challenging. They had to carry Rachel to the car, while managing the few intoxicated passers-by who called out to them. Then they had to put her in the car and tie her up. Quinn had gotten in the back to make sure that if Rachel threw up, she wouldn't drown in her vomit. Then they had to take her out of the car, close the car, open the doors of the building, climb the steps up two floors...
Now, Quinn was struggling with her keys, her hands trembling from cold and fear while Santana tried to keep her balance with Rachel's body, which seemed to have a consciousness of its own. The brunette could see how disturbed her best friend was. They both were, really, but maybe the Hispanic knew how to handle this kind of situation better.
Once the door opened, Quinn moved forward alone to light the passage then quickly returned to lend a helping hand to Santana who was staggering as if it was she who had consumed all these substances at the same time. They passed the hallway, the kitchen, and stopped in the living room where they placed Rachel on the sofa. Quinn busied herself with removing Rachel's shoes and jacket to give her some semblance of ease. She leaned back and lasciviously let go of the second heel which fell with a thud to the ground, then stood back, hands on hips.
"What do we do now?" The blonde asked, lost.
"I don't fucking know." Quinn sighed and sat down on the coffee table, her head in her hands. She looked at Rachel, her eyes filled with darkness. She kept wondering what dangerous game her girlfriend was playing. Rachel knew the dangers of drugs, knew what consequences could result when mixed with alcohol. She had seen firsthand the effects these mixtures had on Quinn. Why had she done this to herself?
A cellphone interrupted the heavy silence that surrounded them. Santana slipped her hand into her pocket and sighed as well. "It's Brittany." Quinn turned slightly to see the clock posted on the living room wall. It was two o'clock in the morning. "Is she still awake?"
"It's barely midnight in L.A…" Santana called back as she picked up. "Yes, Brit', you're not asleep yet." The conversation continued on the other side of the country. Quinn could only hear a semblance of a voice and, despite Brittany's thin voice, she knew that the brunette next to her was being gently reprimanded. "I know, sweetheart, I should have warned you sooner. We have only just returned. I'm sorry, I should have messaged you before we left the bar." Quinn heard the rustle of Brittany's voice on the other end again. They had warned Brittany about the situation in the car so she wouldn't worry about not hearing from Santana at the usual time. Santana sat next to her on the coffee table and made it shake by moving her knee constantly. The blonde placed a gentle hand on her friend's leg. The brunette raised her head and smiled slightly. "Wait, I'll put you on speakerphone, it will be easier." Santana pressed said button and Brittany's voice was heard.
"Hey, Quinn! How are you doing?"
"Hi, Brit', good to hear you."
"So our favorite diva is acting up?" Quinn exhaled and returned her gaze to the brunette on the couch. She hated seeing Rachel like this. It was clear that the singer was suffering to put herself in this state and Quinn hated being helpless in the face of it.
"I don't know what's wrong with her, Brit. And I don't know what to do anymore to make her talk. She doesn't tell me anything anymore." The phone was silent for a moment. All three suffered the blow. Quinn's trembling voice had alerted them all to the seriousness of the situation. Rachel was out of reach and it was terrifying.
"I should come." Brittany declared. "What? No! I'll be back in two days." Santana protested. "Well you just could extend it again." Santana rolled her eyes. She adored her wife but life was not always so easy. "I can't, Brit. I have to report to my manager on Beca's case and other cases I was here for. He's not going to agree to pay for the hotel for even one more week. And we don't know how long Rachel might need us."
"Santana is right." Quinn said. "It's sweet that you want to travel across the country for Rachel and I'm sure she would appreciate the gesture but you also have your life. You can't interrupt everything." They heard Brittany sigh on the phone. The three young women had known each other for so long that it was easy for Quinn to imagine the expression the other blonde wore at that moment.
"All right. In this case, we should schedule a date to visit you. On vacation. San', you have days to spare anyway?" The tone didn't really leave Santana a choice, taking vacation was a subject of discord among them. She worked too much and refused even the slightest leave. Even when she was sick, she went to work. Santana had actually promised, as recently as two days ago, to plan a vacation upon her return because her relationship had been put aside for too long.
"Yes, I'll take a week off when I get back." Santana resigned herself. "Perfect!" Brittany exclaimed, even if she already knew the answer. Quinn smiled tenderly at Santana's look. The brunette let herself be led by the end of her nose when it came to her wife and it was so pleasant to see. Few people could say the same.
"Anyway, how is she doing?"
"At the moment, she's sleeping. She didn't throw up in the car so we might have to deal with that later..." Quinn replied painfully. "Do you have any idea what she consumed?" Santana recounted how they found Rachel. She explained the test she had performed on her. Quinn felt her stomach twist, her hands shake, her ears ring, her eyes sting. She got up abruptly and went into the bathroom.
It was a nightmare. They were supposed to be happy. What could possibly be wrong? She splashed cold water on her face and stood there watching the drops of water slide down her skin and fall onto the porcelain. Sometimes she wondered if Rachel didn't regret choosing this life. If she felt guilty. Maybe she had an response now.
A few minutes later, Quinn was still leaning against the sink, her face wet. Santana knocked twice on the door and walked in without waiting for an answer.
"Brit' wishes us luck and told me to tell you that she loves you and Rachel." A smile split Quinn's face but it quickly blurred into a bitter line. An exhale escaped from her entire chest and then the tears flowed. Santana came closer and, even though they weren't used to this kind of thing, she took Quinn in her arms and hugged her tightly with the hope of passing on some of her courage and evaporating the fears.