Novocaine (Fall Out Boy)

When I got back to campus the morning after the big engagement, I ended up fucking away the pain of losing Santana with the only sorority sister other than my roommate, that I trusted.

Asha had been unprepared for me to storm into her room since no one else had the balls to interrupt the sitting president of the sorority, but not everyone was me.

For everyone else, she was authoritative and in control, but for me, she got on her knees and submitted to my every whim.

Like me, she'd always been on top, controlling shit, and she got off on being able to give in to letting go.

This is why, when I showed up to her room feeling so close to dyeing my hair pink, she got it.

"Quinn?" She said, with her glasses perched on her nose while she studied.

"I need you to do for me what I've done for you. Top me, please?"

"Are you sure?"

"Just go easy on my back. I feel like I need to lose control…just for a little while."

That day was the first time I asked her to take over, and she gave as good as she got.

We went at it for hours, only for me to stumble from her room feeling even more unhinged. I spent the next two days half sobbing, half ranting to my roommate about Santana.

I allowed myself two of the three days remaining in spring break to completely lose my shit because, by Monday morning, I needed to be back on my game.

By Sunday, my sadness had morphed fully into rage.

The moment I was no longer a pitiful sack of self-loathing, I used my power as social chair to throw a ladies' night. It was the beginning of hell week, and I needed to vent my frustrations. What better way to make myself feel better than to talk to our newest recruits? Something about the feeling of standing in front of a group of girls who see me as a leader has always gotten my blood racing.

Ruling as the captain of the Cheerios taught me just how much being in control and dominating made me feel like a complete person.

Getting to be on top gives me a thrill and feeds my need for unrelenting adoration.

That may be where my love for Santana began. As much as she liked to play the part of being on top, she was never more in her element than when she was my second, and when we were in that hotel room, I got to see her truly give into her submissive side.

She got off on my ability to lead her because I did it while still managing to make her feel like she was in control; it was what I'd been trained to do, and she shined with my every touch.

It was intoxicating.

My mastery of fear and manipulation has served as a powerful motivator for the people on whom I released my anger. It also has a calming effect on me.

Or at least it used to.

After three hours of browbeating the girls about their intelligence, attractiveness, and pedigree, three of the ten pledges left, never to return, but what was worse than that, I couldn't seem to find relief.

I just kept seeing Santana kneeling before that infant in her breakfast shirt and asking her to enter into one of the most sacred things on this planet. I wanted to brush it aside and tell myself that it wouldn't last a year, but I knew better.

Santana loved to be in control as much as I did, and even though Brittany had her wrapped around her long, nimble fingers (so I noticed, sue me!), it's like Santana completely lost all sense of reason around B.

Of the three of us, Brittany was the control freak. You don't become a great dancer and cheerleader without tremendous control and precision. Brittany could be ruthless on and off the field, so I knew that this was meant to last for as long as Brittany deemed it to be.

I was essentially screwed.

After I lost my shit on the pledges, the chapter agreed that I should take a break from dealing with new members since I was graduating soon and needed to focus on life after Yale, so I enmeshed myself completely in my school work with no attention given to sleep, my phone or my friends.

With my phone on Do Not Disturb, I focused only on getting to graduation with the highest honors I could manage.

I stopped paying attention to the world outside of New Haven and began to focus fully on Yale.

Asha kept being my stress reliever, of course, with me on top again, and even though I'd go back to my room and sob afterward while looking at old pictures of Santana, I knew that I needed to break my own heart and let her go.

I had to find a way to live without her, even if it was the last thing I wanted to do.

After giving up Beth, I thought nothing else would be as difficult, but it turns out it hurts just as much to give up the person who has been your sun as it is to give up your moon.

Your guiding light.

Rachel may think it was her that got me to stop being a skank, but it was Santana.

She was my second, my right hand, and I would miss her beyond words.

Those weeks after the engagement were my way of grieving what could have been.

And I duped myself into believing that by the end of the semester, I'd be over her and would be able to move on from what we could have been.

I thought I was fine.

Better than that, I thought that nothing could bring me down again.

Had I not had that free period in my day on Wednesday and a torrential downpour hadn't soaked my clothes, I may have just slept in the library another night, but fate has never been my friend.

I was half naked, with a towel in one hand and my shower caddy in the other, when I saw the certified letter on my bed with a note stuck to it.

Some guy stopped by with this. He said to ensure you got this no matter what, but I couldn't find you. I hope it's not too urgent. Sleeping at Scotti's for the week. - V

From the postmark, the letter had arrived three days before.

"Way to go, Vanessa. Someone could be dead." I muttered as I dropped the caddy and slumped to the bed with no idea that my life was about to change in a bigger way than I could have imagined.

I slid my finger down the side of the envelope and reveled in the crisp tearing sound of the paper.

Maybe that was the moment when I realized how off-kilter I was becoming.

But the slamming of my heart as I read the letter signified just how out of touch I'd been.

Ms. Fabray,

It's with a heavy heart that I am informing you of the death of my daughter, Shelby Corcoran. I currently have custody of Beth and will probably not be in the best shape to care for her in the next year. I'm scheduled to enter skilled nursing as soon as my Medicare is approved.

I saw Shelby struggle after giving up Rachel, even though she had agreed to the terms beforehand. She was never happier than when she was with Beth. The gift you gave her filled her final years with all the love she deserved. It is only fair that in Shelby's passing, I seek out the givers of great gifts to see if they are okay with receiving those gifts back into their lives.

My daughter loved Beth fiercely, and I wanted to let you know that I love her just as much. I don't know if you will even respond to this letter or if you care to make some room in your life for a four-year-old, but if you do have an interest, I was hoping we could meet.

Please get back to me at your earliest convenience.

P.S. Here's an updated picture. It was taken just a few days before Shelby passed away.

Be well,

Merna Ignacio

The heaviness of that letter and the joyfulness of Shelby and Beth in that picture had me in tears.

I felt both the joy of getting to see her smiling face and the pain of knowing that my child was hurting and I wasn't there to comfort her.

It'd been years since I'd had an update from Shelby. After she and Puck had that ridiculous affair and I lost my fucking mind trying to get my baby back, she thought it was best to cut ties until enough time had passed.

She never said how long that would be. So far, it'd been 3 years, and I was getting used to the ache of Beth being lost to me forever.

And now, that was going to change.

The feelings bubbling over felt overwhelming.

My eyes were full of tears as I stared at the picture of my little girl. Beth had curly strawberry blonde hair and the most beautiful green eyes. She had her father's chin and my original nose, which was cuter on her.

She smiled shyly with her arms around Shelby's shoulders as they stared at the camera.

It was heartbreaking, and I couldn't look away. Not when my phone chimed, not when it chimed again and certainly not when I answered.

"Q?"

"Hmm?" I let out, unsure I could trust my voice at the moment, especially when it was Santana on the other end of the call.

"Hey Q, you okay?"

"Yeah." I whispered. "Just got some insane news. Shelby's dead." The words felt like marbles in my mouth. This couldn't be real.

"I heard. Apparently, it was a head-on collision. Mami told me about it."

"Oh."

"I haven't heard anything else. Is Beth okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"I've been calling you for days but couldn't reach you."

"Turned my phone off."

"Right. Do you need anything? I can hop on the train."

"No. I'm okay."

"I'm in Lima, but I am headed to New York, Kurt says that Rachel is in complete denial and refuses to get wrapped up in it but has been drinking herself sick." She trailed off after realizing that she was rambling. "Sorry, I don't mean to ramble."

The truth was that I had barely registered what was happening, and Rachel fucking Berry was the last thing on my mind.

All that mattered was my little girl.

I should be talking to Noah.

I should be figuring out a way to get my daughter back; even if I wasn't ready, I couldn't let her get lost in the system or attached to another mother who wasn't me.

"What do you want, Santana?" I finally said, doing my best to ignore the sobs threatening to weigh me down and drown me.

"I thought for sure you'd reach out after you got my letter, but I get what you're like when you are focused on school. I even admire it. You're my best friend, Q. I want to know what I can do to help, I could have Mami find Beth, we could get her back or like, I don't know, I can come there and hold you. Just say the word."

"I-"

The door to my room swung open, slamming into the mirror behind it and shattering it. I watched in horror as the shards fell to the ground like confetti.

Noah knelt in front of me, taking the sight of me in, but I couldn't stop looking at the glass.

The mirror was Vanessa's, and I couldn't help but feel like it was the least she deserved for not tracking me down sooner.

"What do you want to do?" A strangled voice asked whether Noah or Santana. I wasn't certain.

"Whatever it takes. I may not be able to have everyone that I want, but if I can have my daughter, if I can have Beth, I'll do whatever it takes." I whispered, my eyes finally meeting Puck's, and I could see the agreement immediately.

We were different now. Noah had a career and job security, and I was just a few solid months shy of graduating. Together, we could do this.

"Q?" Santana said, reminding me that I still had the phone to my ear.

"I have to go." I said before ending the call.

Relief filled me when silence replaced Santana's presence in my life, and I welcomed it because, for once in quite a while, my obsession with Santana had abated.

I was suddenly feeling every single thing that I had been shoving down and quickly realized that I had been completely numb for the last few weeks.

And it was great to feel again.