Be Alright (Kehlani)
OCTOBER
QUINN'S POV
I don't know what I had expected from the meetings. Maybe I had expected them to be full of angry and unforgiving people.
But I found people of all ages who were doing their best to support the people they loved through one of the hardest things a person could deal with.
And even though there were kids there, I wasn't immediately sure about bringing Beth to the meetings because, as a parent, you want to wrap your kid up in a bubble for as long as you can, but Beth isn't like other kids.
She's seen death in person, she's lost people and has lived in four different states in her six years of life.
My daughter is the smartest, toughest and coolest kid that I've ever met, but she's still just my baby.
I want to protect her, and more than anything, I want to preserve her idea of Santana as a superhero for as long as I can.
After two months of seeing Santana struggle to find a way to talk to Beth, I decided to step in.
"I'm going to take her to a meeting tonight."
"Before I tell her?" Santana asked as we had lunch between classes. "Are you sure?"
I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. Her worried expression got softer as she looked down at our hands and then up at me.
"She's smart; she knows that something is up, and I think that if she goes to a meeting or two and meets other kids that have loved ones going through addictions. Hears stories about the people and knows more about what it's like to go through this...it will be easier to talk to her."
"Why now, though?" She asked, her face scrunching up as she squeezed my hand.
"It's been two months. I know you wanted to wait for six months of sobriety to talk to Beth, but I think she should know now. It's only a little sooner than you planned. Even though you don't live with us, you're talking about helping me raise the baby and Beth. Official or not, we are a family unit, Princess. We have dinners three nights a week, you attend Beth's school functions, you're her emergency contact at school, and we go to church on Sundays together. It's time."
"Okay. So when should I talk to Beth about me?"
"I don't know. I have a feeling that Beth is going to guess after I take her to the meeting, but if she asks me, I'll tell her that she needs to ask you. I still want you to be the one to talk to her."
"Okay." She said, looking like I had asked her to perform open heart surgery, but I understood it. Along with my personal experience, the meetings helped me see how much addiction took over every part of your life and just how judgmental people could be.
But I had faith in her...in us.
For the last two months, I've been dropping Beth off right after school with Jake and Kitty every Wednesday for family time.
She's never questioned it because she knows that I'm in school and working all different hours, so I never really corrected her assumptions.
It helped that Jake was taking her to gymnastics every other week. We wanted her to spend time feeling as normal as possible.
The less I had to explain, the better. It was a carryover from how I was raised. If a precedent was set, you didn't question it, and without even telling Beth, she picked up on that quickly.
It was an off week for gymnastics, so I knew this would be the perfect day; otherwise, I'd have to wait two weeks for this opportunity to present itself again.
So when I picked her up from school and we headed home instead of towards South Philly, she looked at me in confusion but didn't say anything at first.
It was not until we got inside that she started pulling out her homework, and I told her to put her coat back on.
"What's wrong?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and resting her fists on her hips in my signature high school stance.
"I haven't been at work or school on Wednesday nights...I've been going to a special kind of meeting, and today, I wanted to share it with you."
"What kind of meeting?" She asked, not moving an inch from where she stood.
"It's a Nar-anon family group. It's for family and friends of people with drug addictions. They help people learn how to deal with it and be a good support."
"Oh." She said, turning from me and picking her coat up off the couch, slipping it on and walking towards me with a serious look on her face.
"Is that it? No more questions?" I asked, surprised that she didn't ask anything right away, but then again, maybe she was way more astute than I had figured.
"No."
"Okay then, the meeting is right on 22nd Street...we can walk there."
She slipped her hand into mine, and we walked the whole way in silence, which made me more nervous than if she was full of questions, but I wasn't going to push. She'd talk to me when she was ready.
I was anxious as we walked inside, but Beth seemed to loosen up even more as we sat in one of the middle rows near a few of the other kids. Within minutes, I understood why she had been so quiet and calm.
"Hi, Beth." A little redhead girl said from the row in front of us after looking at me hard and then at my daughter.
"Hi, Daisy." She said quietly and then looked up at me. "She's in my class. Her mom did drugs. She's in rehab now." She whispered.
I nodded, knowing more about Daisy than that, like how she was a step away from foster care, but it seemed to fill in the blanks for me. Beth had obviously been talking about this meeting with Daisy at some point.
This had been a fear of my Mother's when she found out I'd be raising Beth in the city. She complained that city kids grew up faster, knew more things and got into more trouble, but then I reminded her that I'd been pregnant at 15 despite being in the suburbs, being wealthy, and being a church mouse.
Besides, Shelby had been raising her in New York City, so Philly wasn't going to be worse off.
Now, though, I could understand her fears a little better because I knew nothing about drugs when I was six years old...neither did Santana or Finn, but look how that turned out.
Knowledge is power, and in Beth's case, with her being so precocious, I'd rather she be steered in a sober direction as early as possible.
This was the right thing to do, especially since she already had been having these kinds of conversations without me even knowing.
It was terrifying, but I was kind of grateful for it.
Even if that had me wondering whether she thought it was ME that had the problem.
And if that's why she refused to let go of my hand during the entire meeting...not even in the cookie line.
"Do you have any questions?" I asked her as we walked back home an hour later.
"Daisy told me that she saw you at those meetings, but I didn't believe her."
"Did she?"
"Yes, and I know you aren't on drugs, right?"
"No, Sweets, I'm not."
"Did you ever do drugs?"
"I did for a short time after I hurt my back, and I had a problem stopping, but I eventually got better."
"Is that why we are here, for you?"
"No, baby."
"It's Santana, then? That's why I couldn't see her last year, right?" She asked directly, and despite wanting Santana to talk to her about this, I felt that it was best that I answer her rather than she make assumptions on her own.
"Yes, Sweets. Santana needed to go and get better before she got to hang around with us."
"And she is better, right?" She said, her voice sounding heavy with tears as we turned onto our block.
"Why don't you ask her yourself?" I said as we approached our steps.
SANTANA'S POV
Quinn texted me to remind me that tonight was the night and that if I wanted to come over after the meeting, I could, but that there was no pressure.
Only, there was pressure, a shit ton of pressure from the moment that I decided that I wanted to be serious with Quinn while being sober. I was under pressure from the moment I decided to get clean, but it wasn't the kind of thing that I was going to run from.
I was blessed to be alive and able to have the opportunity to get clean.
So, I was taking things as they came and being as honest as possible.
Sure, I sometimes felt unworthy of the love I received from Quinn and Beth, but that didn't mean I was going to push it away.
I just needed to take my time and be the best version of myself for both of them...(soon to be the three of them).
Today, I was proactive. After lunch, I went to a meeting, packed an overnight bag and picked up dinner before planting myself on Quinn's front steps to wait for my two favorite ladies.
From the looks of it, Quinn was getting hit with questions as she made her way down the street with Beth.
I caught the end of their conversation just before Beth saw me sitting there.
"And she is better, right?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Quinn said as they got closer.
Beth looked up at me and smiled her same old grin.
And right then, I knew that this kid was going to love me no matter what.
I couldn't let her down.
After all, it was the promise to her that I was trying to keep.
Beth stood at the base of the steps, looking in my eyes with tears in hers.
"Are you better?" She asked, sounding like she was ready to break down at any moment.
"I promised that I would fix it, Kiddo, and I am. I'm getting better."
"This is what you broke last year?"
"Yes, Kiddo."
"You left to keep us safe, so you didn't hurt us, right?"
"Yes. I promised your mom that I would never be that way around you. That night, I almost broke that promise. I am so sorry for putting you in danger. I kept messing up after that, but then you called me." I smiled at her with tears in my eyes, and she nodded, looking like she was trying to be tough for me. I brushed a thumb over her cheek, "When you called me, I was about to mess up again bad enough to maybe kill me, but then you called me before I could mess up."
"I did?" She squeaked with fresh tears and a wobbly chin.
"Yeah, you did, and you know what else?"
"What else?" She cleared her throat and put on her tough girl face. Her big green eyes were sparkling and hopeful, reminding me of her mother's. I looked past her and up over at Q, who gave me a slight nod. I could see the pride in her eyes.
I looked back at Beth and took a deep breath, "You reminded me, that day, of my promise to you. When nobody else could get through to me, you did. That day, as soon as you ended the call, that's when I stopped. I had to keep that promise to you, Kiddo. You say I'm your hero, but in so many ways, you're mine."
"I am?"
"Yes, Kiddo, you are."
She looked up at her mother and then back at me. The tears had fallen down her cheeks, but her grin was back in place.
I sat there waiting for her to say something, but instead, she just threw herself forward, wrapping her little arms around my neck.
"Good. I'm so happy you're okay. Please stay okay. I love you." She whispered.
I stood up with my arms wrapped around her and squeezed her tight.
"You got it, kid. I'll do my best, and now that I know that I've got you in my corner, I know I'll be okay. I love you too."
"And Mama, you love her too?" She asked as she pulled back enough to look back at Quinn and then me again.
"I do. I love her too."
"And the baby?"
"Yes, the baby too."
"Good."
The three of us wolfed down dinner and then sat at the dining room table and did homework.
It was probably the most domestic thing that we did, and it felt so good to be with them and to be sober.
Now that Beth knew, a heavy weight had left my shoulders, and I could actually work towards becoming a family without feeling like there was a big secret.
Only...we still had one.
And the kid had seemed to pick up on it.
"So, are you two back together yet?" Beth asked after we had sat there in silence for half an hour.
Quinn kept her head down as she highlighted something in her book, but I lifted my head immediately.
Beth was staring at me with that raised eyebrow that reminded me so much of her mother, and I couldn't lie anymore.
"Almost." I admitted.
She looked over at her mother and directed the next question at her. "Why almost?"
But Quinn glanced at me and then back down to her book. "Ask her." She mumbled.
"I want to be sober for six months. I want to prove to you and your mom that I can do this."
"Okay." Beth nodded, "That's acceptable as long as it happens when that day comes." She said with way more maturity than a six-year-old and then went back to her homework like it was no big deal.
"Agreed." Quinn muttered.
I looked over at Quinn, and she was grinning as she continued to highlight her book, looking smug.
The two of them were smiling, trying to focus on their homework, and agreeing that I had a deadline to make things official.
What on Earth was I getting myself into?
Whatever it was, I felt blessed to finally be a part of it.
"You need to work on your breathing, Princess. Have you considered joining Tai Chi instead? I mean, how are you even out of breath? It was just one warm-up drill. Sue would be so disappointed."
I took a deep breath and then guzzled down as much water as I could. After only ten minutes of warming up, I was covered in sweat; my tank top was clinging to my back even in the air conditioning, and to top it off, Q wouldn't stop leering at me.
I felt gross, but I could tell that she was turned on by seeing me like this. But then again...it seemed that she was always turned on these days, and me being sweaty and gross seemed to be no exception.
"I'm fine. Let's do this." I finally said as I put down my water bottle.
"Yea? Are you sure you can handle this? You could always go back to being a cheerleader." She quipped with a shit-eating grin, obviously using sarcasm as a mask for her actual feelings of lust.
I wanted her too...all the time, but I was committed to being celibate, no matter how hard it was.
"Fuck that, pass the ball, Q."
She smiled at me and then threw the ball with all of her might straight at my chest.
I wasn't ready for it, and it knocked what little wind I had managed to gain right out of me.
"Too hard?" She asked sweetly, and I just rolled my eyes, choosing to start dribbling instead of giving her the satisfaction of hearing me wheeze out a response.
I already knew what I was in for when I had asked her to run drills with me, but I hadn't factored in the whole sexual frustration bit she was dealing with.
Obviously, that made her extra vicious, but I figured at the end of the day, she was still the girl who loved me.
So I wasn't taking her taunting to heart...in fact, I was giving it right back.
I held the ball in my hands and stood, breathing deeply at the baseline, waiting for her to call time so that I could start my first round of suicides.
Quinn was insisting that I run every drill that we did today, either holding or dribbling the ball so that I could get used to running with it, which was proving much harder than I thought it would be.
Even after all these years, she was still an athlete, and I knew that if anyone could get me in shape for basketball tryouts, it would be her.
"Go!" she yelled from the sideline, and I went as fast as I could. However, the ball bounced off of my foot instead of the ground, and I had to scramble to grab it before it rolled away.
"Start again! What kind of shit was that, San? It's a basketball, not a pom-pom!"
"I'm more than a damned cheerleader, Lucy, so fuck you, I can do this." I growled as I went back to the baseline, ready to start again.
I looked over at her and could see the concern in her eyes. She'd been a captain, Sue had trained her to know when a person was at their limit, but maybe I should have considered that her horniness may cloud her judgment.
"Are you ready?" She asked, squinting her eyes at me. But I just smiled and nodded. After a beat of looking me up and down, she held her stopwatch in front of her and counted it out. "3...2...1. Go!"
And I did, this time making sure that the ball made contact with the floor instead of my foot as I ran, alternating between each hand as swiftly as I could.
The baseline to the foul line and then the foul line back to the baseline was cake, and even the dash to half court and back was fine, but from the start of the run from the baseline to the opposite foul line, I began to feel slightly dizzy.
I should have slowed down right at that moment, but I'm stubborn.
Always have been, and this was no exception.
QUINN'S POV
I was tired, horny, and endlessly cranky...being given a chance to coach in any capacity was returning me to my Cheer Captain days.
This was the side of me that made me a captain in my Sophomore year of high school...pushing people is like a high for me.
So much so that I was forgetting the signs of a person reaching their limits.
Frankly, I was just glad to see that she wanted to do something for herself.
Joining the basketball team was a new goal of hers, and I was 100% here for it.
Even if I was a little hard on her, who could blame me? Even though I haven't been able to participate in any sports since my accident, I still like to stay in shape, it's important to me.
Plus...in between the moments I was running her into the ground, she looked happy to be doing this, and I am a sucker for her smile.
I had seen Santana in action many times.
I had seen her train harder than anyone when we were out on the field together, and so I was expecting that same old caliber of effort from her, only I think we both underestimated just what those drugs had done to her system.
She was short of breath more and more as we went along, but that happens to anyone who starts working out again after going years without doing much of anything.
There were other red flags, but I saw her determination and chose to ignore them.
Guilt and terror raged through me when I realized just how big of a mistake that was.
She was making great time as she was on her way back from the second foul line, but then she crumpled onto the court like a rag doll, and I nearly lost my mind.
I knelt as she rested on her side and saw that her eyes were still open as she clutched at her chest, gasping really hard.
Determination was still on her face; she was trying to breathe through this, but the way she fell and the incredible amount of sweat drenching every part of her body told me this was bigger than her.
And right then, I felt grateful for being the mother of a kid with asthma.
I dug into my shoulder bag and found one of Beth's emergency inhalers and then ran back to her.
Her eyes were bouncing all over the place, and her lips were becoming darker. I shook the inhaler before shoving it between her lips.
"Breathe in." I instructed.
Her glassy eyes looked up at me, and I tried smiling as I pushed the top, forcing air into her lungs.
She took a shaky breath in as I pressed the pump again a second time.
My hands shook as I knelt there, waiting for her to take a bigger breath, but they remained shallow.
I watched her eyes close, her hands still on her chest as she rolled from her side to her back.
"Thank you," she whispered, reaching a shaky hand towards me. Her clammy hand gripped my wrist. "Give me five minutes, and we...can go again," she said, her words coming out in short bursts.
"Oh no...you're done for the day. I'll give you five minutes to catch your breath, and then I'm taking you back to your dorm."
"No."
"Yes. This isn't a choice. You need to take it easy. Here, drink this." I demanded, shoving her water bottle into her hand.
SANTANA'S POV
I was in a piss poor mood.
Not only was I NOT going to be playing basketball in the foreseen future, but I was stuck in a hospital room for at least the next few days.
Even from Lima, my father was pulling some serious strings until he could get to Philly sometime tomorrow.
I didn't think it was a big deal when I had to stop a few times on the way back to my dorm room...I mean, shit, it WAS far from the gym.
Which was my excuse to Quinn when she stopped us halfway there and waved down a cab because she wasn't taking any chances.
So we ended up at HUP in the Emergency Room, and they admitted me within an hour because of a stupid chest x-ray.
Whoop ti fucking doo!
"What time does Beth get out of school?" I asked, taking the mask off of my face for a moment. Quinn glared at me and reached over, pushing the mask back on.
"Same as every day, Three fifteen. She has drama club after school today, so Jake is going to pick her up." I reached for the mask, but she shook her head. "Leave it on, please?"
"Beth?" I asked through the mask...and I gave her my saddest eyes.
"What? You want me to bring her here?"
I nodded and she gave me a soft, sad smile. "You know I can't do that, S. The doctors said that you could be contagious, and she's got asthma. I don't want to risk having her in here and getting sick too."
I suddenly felt tears slide down my face and closed my eyes because I didn't have the energy to wipe them away.
This whole thing definitely sucked.
I was in and out of sleep, waking up when I felt close to drowning, my chest on fire. Each time, there was always a doctor or two standing over me, talking in hushed whispers.
There was a lot of poking, prodding, and a very cold chest X-ray by the time the night was through.
But through it all, each time I had to leave my room for some test or another, Quinn was always there when I returned, her nose in a book like this was a normal thing we did.
When I got back from the last test, it was past visiting hours, but she was sitting on a cot, ready to stand vigil for the entire night.
Papi had definitely thrown his weight around.
It made me feel loved...cared for, and a bit selfish.
But I already knew that there was no point arguing with her, which was great because I barely had the energy to blink.
How did I think I could lay in my dorm and sleep this off?
Clearly, this was more than just an asthma attack.
And the fact that I couldn't see Beth, well that just about made me feel like the worst person alive.
Quinn, though, is doing her best to be my pillar, and I could not be more grateful to have a woman like her in my corner.
Even in this fucked up situation, I felt incredibly blessed.
QUINN'S POV
"Hola, Mi'ja. How are you?" Antonio said as he came into the room with a cup in one hand and Santana's chart in the other. "The doctors said you've been here all night. I thought you might be in need of some coffee."
"I'd marry her just to have you as my new dad! Thank you!" I said, taking the coffee and offering up my cheek to kiss. "Bendicion."
He looked at me in surprise and then smiled.
"I can't wait for the day I get to officially call you my daughter, Quinn. In the meantime...let's talk about what happened."
I looked over at Santana, who was sleeping heavily. A mask was still on her face, and dark circles were under her eyes.
It's hard to believe this was the same person who had excitedly dragged me to the gym to run drills with her less than 24 hours ago.
She'd barely slept all night when she wasn't being awakened by doctors every few hours...hacking coughs were the cause.
"Let's talk in the hall. She is finally asleep. I don't want to wake her up just yet."
He nodded, and we headed into the deserted hallway.
Maribel was standing there talking to Santana's doctor. Her face was puffy, and her eyes were bloodshot, but her back was straight and her expression firm.
She was trying to hold it together the best way she knew how...interrogating people.
I replayed the whole afternoon back to Antonio and Maribel, along with Santana's doctor, and then they asked me the heavy question that I didn't want to think about.
Because I wanted to believe in her, and I WOULD unless I was proved wrong.
"Do you have any knowledge of a relapse?"
I shook my head and resisted the urge to hide my face behind my coffee cup.
Both of her parents were looking to me for assurance that she was still clean, and it felt like too heavy a pressure on my shoulders.
I'd spent nearly every day with her for weeks and she was clean as far as I knew.
"She's been clean. She just hasn't worked out in a very long time, and I think she underestimated the effect the drugs had on her system." I explained to them, refusing to believe anything else. "Besides, it stays in your system for days. I know you guys took blood. It was clean, right?" I asked the doctor, trying to hide the trace of doubt that was lingering in the back of my mind.
"It was, and when you listed her previous drug use on her intake form, we were careful not to give her too many narcotics."
"Good." I said and then smiled at them and nodded towards the room. "I need to get my things, I've got class in an hour, and I have to check in on Beth."
"I'm sure she's been honest with you, Quinn." Maribel said, acknowledging my moment of doubt but seeming to be on my side of things.
We were going to believe in Santana until we were given a reason not to.
SANTANA'S POV
The last few days have been fuzzy, but I'm finally starting to feel like I'm coming out of this thing. It seems that the interrogation squad has just been waiting for me to be coherent to drill me with questions, some more agitating than others.
First up...my mother.
"You look better. How do you feel?"
"Okay." I rasped, my voice sounding hoarse after two days of being radio silent.
"Do you need anything?"
"No."
"It's your birthday tomorrow. Do you want a cake?"
"No."
"Okay, well, rest up, Mi'ja. You're almost out of the woods. Te amo."
I smiled at her and then closed my eyes as a dizzy spell hit me.
Talking had been too much already, but I knew that Mami's questions wouldn't be the only ones.
I'd fallen asleep without the mask on, but when I woke up again, it was back on, and there was a fresh IV.
Happy Birthday to me.
But then I looked to my right, and there on the window was a teddy bear with a birthday balloon attached to it.
It was the most birthday thing I had experienced yet, and it made me feel like crying, but I refused to cry today, even if I was connected to a bunch of tubes.
Second...Beth.
My eyes were drifting closed when I heard her voice. I couldn't really move, but thankfully, that wasn't necessary because Quinn came closer to the bed with the phone on speaker.
I hadn't even known she was there, but the machines told me so, and it made my heart beat faster.
"She can't talk, Sweets, but she's awake, and she can hear you."
"Santana?" Her voice squeaked. "I miss you so much. Did you see the teddy bear I picked out for you? I named him Wheezy." I looked at Quinn and could see the amusement on her face...hopefully it mirrored my own beneath the mask.
"She's smiling, Sweets. I think she loves it."
"Good, now, I'm a pro at breathing problems. So, if you ever feel dizzy or like your chest is on fire. Stop moving and breathe slowly. Okay?"
I was still smiling as I nodded my head...my eyes feeling heavy.
"She nodded. Sweets...she's getting droopy, so go ahead and say your goodbye."
"Oh, okay! Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday, dear Santana, I love you! Feel better. Mama, kiss her for me, okay?"
"Okay, honey. Behave for Uncle Jake, and I'll see you in the morning."
"I love you, Mama!"
"Love you too."
For the first time in days, I drifted off to sleep with happiness in my heart and a smile on my face.
Beth makes everything better.
I woke up to every single nerve ending in my body, feeling like it was literally on fire, and all I could do was moan in pain.
"San? Babe, calm down...you're going to make yourself sicker." Quinn said, shuffling papers from her lap so that she could move closer to me.
My eyes were wide open, and it felt like a pipe was down my throat.
I couldn't see her because moving my head proved impossible, and it made me more agitated.
But then she came into my line of sight, and her hands were on my face...cooling the burning in my cheeks.
"I'm going to page the doctor...just breathe, Princess." She said, her eyes full of concern.
The sound of the alarm for the nurse shoved metal spikes through my ears.
Third...the doctors from hell, unfortunately...I couldn't quite understand a thing!
QUINN'S POV
One minute, she was with me, and the next, she was having a seizure, and I was rushed out of the room.
Maribel and Antonio were out with Beth, having lunch at the chocolate restaurant in celebration of Santana's birthday, at Santana's request.
But now, that was going to have to change because while I had been allowed to stay with Santana at all hours of day or night, I still wasn't next of kin, and so once I was in that hallway, they wouldn't talk to me about what was going on or let me back inside.
It was terrifying and eye-opening. I didn't want to miss seeing Santana. I didn't want anything to prevent me from helping her or making decisions on her behalf when she wasn't able to.
Although I had agreed to wait for her sober six months to make this official, I now wasn't sure how much longer I would want to wait to marry her.
Suddenly, her needing to be married to Brittany seemingly out of nowhere, made sense to me.
When you know...you know, and in that moment, I knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt, I wanted to make her my wife sooner rather than later.
And with that revelation in mind, I called Antonio, feeling slightly calmer than I had been a moment before.
"Quinn? Is everything alright?"
"I need you to get back here as soon as you can. San just...I think it was a seizure."
"I'm on my way. Stay there, okay?"
"I plan on it. Hurry back."
I knew I couldn't be still without lashing out at someone, so I called Vanessa, who stepped out of class to talk to me.
"Q? How's Santana? Is everything okay?"
"They kicked me out of the room, and they won't tell me anything. I think it was a seizure. I'm terrified, V."
"Did you contact her parents?"
"Yes. They're on the way. The doctors keep going into the room, and when they come out, they just walk right by me."
"It's protocol."
"It just sucks, every few minutes, I can hear her machines blaring. No one will tell me a fucking thing."
"She needs you to be calm. It seems ridiculous and unfair that after seeing her parents allow you access to her for days, they are standing on protocol, but you'll need to brace yourself. Usually, that means they are up against a life-saving decision, and you are not the one to talk to."
"That's what I'm afraid of." I heard rushed footsteps and felt relieved. "Thank you for talking to me, her dad just got here, I'm going to go."
"Keep me updated. Breathe. V needs you not to panic in front of her."
"Thanks for the reminder. I love you. Go back to class."
"I love you too. Bye."
Once Antonio showed up, he kissed my head, told me that Maribel stayed with Beth, and then grabbed my hand, pulling me right into that room with him.
The doctors didn't even flinch the moment that we entered. They just continued their work to stabilize Santana.
Santana's bed was sitting up, with her gown open, exposing her chest to the room. They were changing her sticky pads and setting up another IV.
There were tears in her wide eyes as she took deep breaths beneath the mask on her face.
She looked scared and helpless. I just wanted to shield her from their touches and the pain she was in, but there wasn't much I could do.
"Make them talk, Pop. I need to know what the hell is going on." I growled...probably louder than I should have, but it seemed to do the trick because now, she was looking right at me, looking satisfied that I asked what she wanted to ask.
The mask was obscuring her face, but her eyes said more than any words could in that moment.
She was terrified.
It was her birthday, and here she was, in a hospital instead of celebrating.
"Have a seat, Mi'ja. There's no need for you both to end up here." Antonio said, reassuringly patting my shoulder before walking over to the doctor.
It was like night and day, the way the doctors opened up to him.
She had a Non-cardiogenic Pulmonary edema.
One of her lungs had nearly collapsed, and the other was full of fluid.
If she hadn't come in after collapsing on the court, she would have died in a matter of hours.
And just thinking of a world without Santana in it broke my heart.
When the doctors cleared out, and she was stable, her father looked at her more sternly than I ever saw.
"Don't talk. Use your hands. How long have you been sober?"
She scrunched her eyebrows, held up four fingers, and then signed the word 'month' to him.
"She's been good, Pop."
He shook his head and looked at her again. "Did you withdrawal from another drug?"
She looked confused and then nodded.
"Methadone?" He asked, and she nodded again.
He nodded, then grabbed her chart, scanned it and then looked around. "What's going on, Pop?"
"Where's her phone? She had a physical recently. I had her doctor perform blood work. Since it was all clear, I didn't analyze it."
I handed him her phone and then watched Santana's eyes brim with new tears.
"She thinks you're mad at her."
He looked back at Santana, then sighed after entering her passcode. I watched as he opened her health app and reviewed her bloodwork.
"There's no methadone in your system from a month ago. Your chart says there is methadone in your system from your first round of tests. It's clear the rehab started you on this course of treatment, but it's not recommended to take it for less than 12 months. If you stopped and started, that may have been detrimental. What made you start again? He asked her, and she closed her eyes.
Obviously, this wasn't something she could answer without full sentences. I had questions of my own because I felt like I should have known about the methadone, and I was clearly in the dark.
Now was not the time for the questions, though.
"Can't this wait? She's so tired; it's her birthday, and even though no one is talking about what just happened, I'm pretty sure she almost died. So, please, Pop, say what you need to say."
"Tata, did you slip? You can tell me. I'm not mad." She looked at him and then at me, staring hard as if she were trying to tell me something, but then she looked at him again and shook her head.
I was piecing together all the things we'd been doing, if there had been any breaks in our schedule, and then I remembered a day. Just one day had been different, the day she was truthful with Beth.
Then I thought about her trying to get up the nerve to tell me about the drugs when she'd been MIA after Christmas last year.
"Did you almost slip before we told Beth?" I asked her, and she nodded. "Did you think you were close to slipping so you'd go on methadone again to prevent it?" I asked her, and she nodded again. "For how long?"
She shook her head and attempted to shrug, but pain was on her face.
"Thank you for helping me piece that together, Quinn. Tata, methadone is still a drug. You can't take it as a preventative. Stopping and starting it, especially after so long being clean, can create an addiction to methadone. You have to be closely monitored and weaned off of it."
Her eyes went wide with terror.
"Okay, I love you, Pop, but she can't take this. Not right now."
He threw up his hands. "Okay, lectures later. I'm proud of you for trying to get ahead of this, Tata, but let that be the last time. I'm going to have them update your chart so they can identify if there's a need to ween you off. There are no more surprises, right?"
She gave him a thumbs up, then looked at me.
"I'm not mad. We are still okay, and you're still at four months. You didn't know. Now, I'm going to take Pop out of the room. You should rest before they come to wake you up again in a few minutes. I love you, Princess."
Antonio smirked and leaned in, kissing her head, mumbling sweet things to her that made the worry vanish from her face.
Thank God.