Hell On The Throat (Dashboard Confessional)

My second time with Merna was over before it even began.

I had been home from PT for exactly one hour and was close to pulling my hair out from the intense pain my muscles and back were in. It was almost enough for me to pull out my old wheelchair or at least a cane.

"Quinn, darling. I need to talk to you." Mother said as she stood in the bathroom while I was mid-shower.

"Are you kidding right now? I'm naked!" I snapped at her, unable to suppress the pain I was in.

"I pushed you out of my va-jay-jay, Quinn. There is nothing you have that I have not seen before." She snickered.

I stood there under the water and traced my fingers over a scar just over my rib cage from my foray into bondage with the Professor I was sure she would never want to know about.

"Is there a reason for this brand of antagonizing?" I asked as I turned my back, just in case she was tempted to slide the shower door open for a peek in on me. "If this is a check to see if I'm sober for lunch with Merna, I'm sure you can tell by now that I am very sober."

"Great. I'm glad to hear it. Unfortunately, I had to cancel that due to another engagement."

"What?!" I said, standing stock still, trying to figure out if I was hallucinating.

"I told her you were sick with the flu."

I shut off the water, no longer caring if I was naked, as I slammed the door open, thankfully without breaking the glass.

"Why would you do that?" I panted out, my chest constricting with panic again, only this time, there was nothing in my system to calm me down. I saw spots in front of my vision and felt the tell-tale sign of tears as my sinuses closed up.

"Burt and Carole are coming over, as well as Antonio and Maribel. I called Sue, too, but she never got back to me."

"Are you telling me in advance that you are staging an intervention?" I said through gritted teeth with my last steady breath.

I slid to my knees in the shower and covered my face with my hands. The sobs began with a hiccup before the tears came, hot and thick.

"Quinn, it's not exactly an intervention. It's more of a check-in with people who know and love you. If it were an intervention, I would have called your father."

My head snapped up as I eyed her to see if she was fucking with me, but the doe-eyed look she was giving told me that she was way out of her element and trying her best to pull me back from whatever brink she thought I was on.

"I told you...I told-" I couldn't control my breathing; I gripped at my throat as I gasped for air. Her eyes went from fascination to panic just before the world went black.

It has been 72 hours and 15 minutes since I admitted myself for observation at St. Rita's.

Part of putting myself on a hold was to appease the intrusive people in my life, and if I'm honest, the other part was to prove to myself that I can beat this new habit of depending on pills.

And because this was done voluntarily, now that the 72 hours are over, I had to decide to move to the outpatient rehab program or to go home, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to do either one.

If I had it my way, I'd be back in New Haven, throwing myself into my studies and pursuing my career instead of being back in Lima, in a hospital, no less.

"Ms. Fabray?" A commanding voice says from the other side of the door, followed by a knock or three.

I did my best to be the picture of poise as I sat by the window, looking out at gray skies and a dismal parking lot.

The world outside the window looked no better than the one inside my head, but I was sitting in a chair.

This was a major improvement considering that when I woke up in the hospital, I was practically paralyzed again after passing out in the shower, suffering a concussion and shifting one of the pins in my spine.

The only good thing that came out of hitting my head on the side of the tub was missing out on the intervention my mother had planned for me.

Some people would have continued ignoring the problems, but I took the hint. Instead of being discharged, I asked for this stay to prevent myself from going off the deep end like before.

Not many people know about my short stays in Crisis after having Beth and then after my Skank phase. I have done a lot to pull myself up, and so I'm all too aware of when the next drop in the roller coaster ride is coming.

Hopefully, I was taking the right steps to avoid breaking apart again.

"Come in." I croaked due to a lack of talking for the last few days.

The door swung open, and my new therapist stood, no more than five feet tall in heels. It brought a smile to my face. Maribel was utterly professional, even though she was Santana's mother, and had never called me Ms. Fabray in my entire time of knowing her.

She closed the door and stood near my freshly made bed. (Made by me, no less!)

"I know that you specifically asked for me to meet with you, however before we continue. I need to know if that is in a professional or a personal capacity?"

"Is it possible to have a little of both?"

"Okay. We can try that." She said. I watched as she sat across from me and pulled a notepad and pen from her pocket. "Have you decided what your next move will be?"

"I don't think I have a problem..." She took a deep breath but gave no other sign of contradicting me. "Yet. I think that I could potentially have a problem, and the fact that I don't deal very well with change means that things could get much worse."

"Can I speak frankly?" She asked, still uncomfortable with the situation I had put her in.

"Please do. I trust you, Maribel. You've been in my corner since the beginning, and I hope you can be as frank with me as you've always been."

I felt a pang in my chest when I looked into the same smirk Santana had given me a million times. It was always a warning that what came next might not be the easiest thing to swallow, but I had asked for it.

"For years, it has been apparent to me that you have PTSD, not just from the accident but also from giving up your daughter and now that you have this opportunity to get her back, you are sabotaging yourself. You've been in physical therapy for years, you have been on medication for years, and it is only now that you doubt yourself when you are on the cusp of something you that was only in your dreams. And it's why..." She looked at me hard and then shook her head. "You know what, I'll keep that to myself for now."

My heart was stuck in my throat. Wait, Maribel knew about Santana and me?

"Did she tell you, or did you guess?"

The smirk turned to a grin, and she shook her head.

"Lima is a small town, Quinn. She didn't have to tell me."

"I love her. So that you know, I love her more than I ever loved anyone other than Beth."

Maribel's face went blank, and she nodded.

"I knew that too, but that's not why we're here. Is it?" She said, returning to her professional demeanor.

"I don't know why, honestly. Maybe it is self-sabotage."

"So, what do you think your next moves should be in light of that realization?"

"I need to take a timeout and figure out how I will juggle what comes next."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"I don't feel like rehab is where I need to be, I've been here two days, and with regular aspirin, I've been fine. I need to get away from my mom and the pressure I'm under with her watching my every move. It's not helping."

"I know it's unorthodox, but you could come to stay with me for a few days. Santana and Brittany are still out of the country and will probably return to New York, so you don't have to worry about them getting in your way. Maybe I can sit down with you and Judy. I could help you two talk through your issues. Beth coming back to you also means that Judy has to step up as a grandmother. It's a change for her. Frannie is so far, so her children aren't so present, but I can't see you being that far from Judy."

It was like I had been in a half-lit room, and someone had opened the blinds.

How had I not considered how my crashing and burning, potentially threatening the tentative agreement with Merna, would affect my mother?

This would also mean a major shift in our relationship dynamic. How could I be so blind?

In theory, staying in Santana's childhood room didn't sound like a big deal, and at first, it wasn't. Of course, that was when I wasn't alone at night.

Her essence wasn't dripping from the surfaces, but a stale version of her scent did. This was her sanctuary, but it wasn't what I remembered.

Little by little, Brittany had inserted herself into the room. Rainbows were in the oddest places, as were unicorn stickers, and then I came across that weird breakfast shirt that I had last seen B in.

The shirt was tossed on the floor just by the headboard, probably from B and San having celebratory sex after the engagement.

It made me sick to see it, but also, I couldn't stop glancing at it either.

After having dinner with Maribel and my mother, I took a long, hot shower before climbing into Santana's old bed.

Maribel assured me the sheets were clean, but somehow, this shirt had been missed, and it hurt in a way I didn't know was possible. As the street lights shined into the dark room, I slipped the shirt over my head.

Call me insane if you so choose, but just for a moment, I envied the other blonde in our trio. I envied how Santana looked at her and how they fell in sync with each other effortlessly. They were always two halves to a whole, like twins separated at birth. I was not too fond of Brittany for the hold she had over Santana, but at the same time, I couldn't help but admire it.

When I climbed into the bed, Brittany's shirt was the only thing touching my body. At the thought of her and how bad of a friend I was being to her, I wept as I had never allowed myself to. It was an ugly cry that Santana would slap me for, and Brittany would cuddle around me and encourage me to continue.

Where San had always been slightly rough with me, Brittany had been like the living embodiment of a sedative, calming me when I was falling apart.

That thought made it even worse. I buried my face into the pillows and sobbed like the pathetic slouch I was being.

I passed out at some point, sleeping deeper and more peacefully than I had since the night I got my first Yale 4.0. I woke up to my phone buzzing in complete darkness. I groaned, not wanting to move. The peace had been so welcoming and secure, and now I was being yanked from it.

"This better be important." I growled into the phone.

"Quinn?"

Every alarm bell in my head went off, my heart was thudding, and I was now wide awake. I pulled the phone away from my face and saw that I had only been sleeping for three hours, and it was the middle of the night. I also verified that it was the last person I wanted to speak to while I sat in their bed.

"Santana, it's three in the morning."

"I'm aware. Are you aware that you're in my bed, in my mother's house?" She chuckled.

"Um..." I looked around the room for a hidden camera because it would be like Santana to have some way to record all the sex she proclaimed to have. "Are you watching me?" I suddenly felt my face flush, embarrassed at the prospect of her seeing me in such a delicate, deranged state.

"I wish. No. Mami called me and told me that you would be staying, so I needed to steer clear, but you see, I'm feeling some type of way because she wouldn't tell me why you're there, and I know I'm supposed to be leaving you alone, or whatever and I've been so good, haven't I? I'm committed to what you asked me to do."

"Thank you."

"You know what pisses me off though, Q?"

"No. What pisses you off?"

"I never promised you we'd stop being friends or that you couldn't talk to me anymore."

"I just backed off because I want you to focus on your marriage. Focus on B."

"And I have. It's why I didn't question Sue when she was so obviously trying to send us away before you came home."

"You noticed that?"

"Of course I did. Anyway, B and I just watched the sunrise together while feeding each other breakfast."

"Good for you."

"Hey, you asked me to do this. You called me on my shit, and I'm doing my part."

"Then where is she now?"

"Ugh, don't micromanage me. Right now, she's doing some kind of yoga on the beach, and I couldn't wait for another second to check in on the squatter in my bed. Did Judy get back with Russell or something?"

New tears ran down my cheeks. I pictured them on an island, watching the sunrise.

I felt like such an idiot.