CW: Abortion/unplanned pregnancy.
Quinn barrelled down the sidewalk outside the restaurant. You followed her for a while and waited for her to say something. She just kept muttering under her breath and looking back at you every few strides to check you were still behind her. After a few minutes, you decided to break the silence.
"Fabray, you have to stop for a minute and calm down."
Quinn finally stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She turned around to face you and threw her arms into the air. "Can you fucking believe him?"
"I mean, I kinda can, yeah. He's always been an ass." You had never liked Quinn's father. He'd always been cold to you, and never shown much interest in anyone in Quinn's life.
"How could you just sit there and take it?"
"I know he's your Dad, Quinn, but I really don't care what that man thinks about me. Maybe a few years ago I would have gone all Lima Heights, but I really don't give a crap anymore." You shrugged.
"I shouldn't have brought you tonight."
"Probably not. But you did. He shouldn't have done what he did."
Quinn slumped down on a bench at the bus stop and looked blankly ahead of her. "Santana?"
"Yeah?" You replied.
"Why did you help me do it?" Quinn asked, keeping her eyeliner straight ahead. She'd never asked you that before.
"Because it easily could've been me in the position. And that wasn't the life you wanted."
Quinn turned to face you. "Can we just go get a drink?"
You wouldn't usually indulge Quinn like this. She could be a messy drunk sometimes, and when you were younger, her spontaneous drunk crying drove you nuts. But tonight had been bad. Really bad. If the bar is what it was going to take for her to distract herself, then so be it. So you both drank and talked. Neither one of you really wanted to rehash the past more than what Charles had done, so you talked around the topic, about school and work and all the rest of it. You both talked until Quinn hit a wall, slurred her words and the tears came. You called an Uber.
You booked an Uber for two stops, Quinn's place and then yours, knowing full well that that might be a little ambitious considering the state that Quinn was in. It was. Quinn got to the front door of her house, dropped her keys on the ground, picked them up, dropped them again, then starting crying again. You got out of the Uber and told the driver to charge you for the whole trip. You were pretty drunk, but unlike Quinn, sober enough to at least be able to get the key in the door.
"And you're the one who moulds young minds..." You muttered.
Quinn stumbled up the stairs, half-crying, half-laughing at the absurdity of the situation. It would be funny if not for the night she'd had.
"Is Sam home?" You asked.
"No, he's at the station tonight." Quinn drawled.
"Oh brother." You replied.
If Sam wasn't home, you couldn't leave Quinn. In high school, Quinn would sometimes get drunk and end up calling you and crying at the end of the night. You would drive over, tip toe up the stairs and sleep in her bed. Most of the time you never even said anything to each other. She just needed to know that someone was there. Quinn never trusted herself very much. You and Sam had often joked about her need to always have a witness to her sadness.
"Is Brittany home?" You asked.
"I dunno. Yes. Yes." Quinn burped.
It was one in the morning. You ushered Quinn into her room to try and get her to go to bed, but she kept stopping in the middle of the hall to try and take a deep breath. You knew that feeling well. She was trying not to throw up. When you finally reached Quinn's room, she sat very slowly on the bed and closed her eyes, then suddenly lurched forward and ran to the bathroom. You heard the sound of retching echoing from the bathroom.
In the middle of you contemplating what to do next, you heard a door down the hall creak open. Brittany popped her head out and squinted at you. Her hair was sitting in a bun atop her head and she looked confused.
"Is everything okay?" Brittany asked, clearly half asleep.
"No. Yes. Fuck, sorry." The alcohol was making the thoughts in your head swirl around. You hadn't processed what Brittany had asked.
"Are you drunk?" A smile crept up on Brittany's face.
"Little bit. But she's worse." You swayed and pointed at the bathroom door. "I'm so sorry if we woke you up, Quinn's just a bit upset. And also drunk. But everything's fine."
You recognised worry on Brittany's face. "Oh shit. Did dinner not go well?"
"It went… very... not well." You drawled out.
This was so embarrassing. Quinn retched in the bathroom again. "It's all good though. I'll get Quinn to bed. I'm so sorry we woke you up."
"I'll help you with her." Brittany offered.
You shook your head. Then you realised you were shaking it way too fast and it was making you dizzy. She giggled at you. "Seriously it's fine. I'm already awake now. I'll get her some water."
You went into the bathroom to check on Quinn. She wasn't throwing up anymore, just sitting on the edge of the bath tub looking a lot calmer than she'd been ten minutes ago. Brittany came in to hand Quinn a glass of water.
"Brittany! Nooooooo!" Quinn exclaimed. "Brittany you're so niceeeeeeee."
This was even more embarrassing than your display in the hallway.
"Brittany I'm sorry. I took Santana to dinner so that they wouldn't yell at me. But then my Dad just started yelling at Santana. Well not yelling. But he was very angry. He's an angry man." Quinn pouted, imitating her father. You couldn't help but laugh at the impression.
Brittany still seemed half asleep, but very amused at Quinn's impression. You were grateful that at least Quinn's tears had stopped.
"Why would he yell at Santana?!" Brittany asked.
"Finally, someone with some common sense!" You replied.
"Who knows." Quinn mumbled. "Well, actually we do know. It's because Santana helped me to get an abortion. In high school." Quinn explained, matter of fact.
Your face dropped. Quinn usually kept her cards close to her chest, and your first instinct was to think about how she would regret sharing that in the morning. Brittany looked at Quinn but her expression didn't really change. She just nodded and gave a little half smile.
"It's okay, Santana. Brittany and I were talking the other night and I told her all about it." Quinn had sensed your anxiety.
"He shouldn't be mad because you made a decision about your body." Brittany said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Quinn closed her eyes, still sitting on the edge of the bath. She took a deep breath and sighed. Then she started snapping her fingers as though at a poetry slam, clearly in full agreement with what Brittany had said. The tension in the room fell away. You were glad to see Quinn let the judgement of her father fall away, even if only for a moment.
"Anyway." Quinn lifted herself off the edge of the bathtub. Brittany caught her elbow to guide her to the door. "I'm going night night."
You and Brittany followed Quinn into her bedroom and helped her take off her shoes and socks and outer layers. She laughed at both of your insistence to help her, then shrugged, accepting her fate as the helpless drunk.
Quinn got into bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. "Thanks, guys."
Once you were out of the bedroom and in the hall, you looked around and then back to Brittany.
"I don't live here." You said, stumped.
Brittany laughed. "No, unfortunately not. But you're welcome to stay here tonight."
It was a good idea. You didn't want to leave Quinn, or spend money on another Uber, and you didn't want to walk home alone at this time of night. You were still standing there when all of a sudden your stomach growled loud enough for Brittany to hear. You felt dizzy. It was that moment you realised you'd only eaten about half of an appetiser before the dinner had gone to shit, and then proceeded to drink gin and vodka interchangeably for four hours straight.
"You okay?" Brittany asked.
"Sorry, I just realised I'm starving." You both burst out laughing and then stopped, remembering Quinn was trying to sleep in the room behind you.
"C'mon." Brittany gestured you toward the kitchen.
You sat on the couch while Brittany made you a grilled cheese sandwich. You had protested and told her to go to bed, that you'd just have some cereal and then call it a night, but she insisted.
"You'll feel so much worse tomorrow if you don't have something substantial now." Brittany told you.
"That's probably true. But I'm already going to feel pretty lousy tomorrow." You rubbed your temples. "I'm such a lightweight now, it's ridiculous."
"Don't drink much?" She asked.
"Not anymore. I don't love how it makes me feel. And bartending kind of puts you off the stuff."
Brittany placed the grilled cheese sandwich in front of you on the coffee table. "That's probably smart of you."
"Thank you. You really didn't have to." You replied. Brittany waved her hand as though it was no big deal and took a seat on the armchair opposite you. You wanted to tell her to go to bed and apologise for being such a bad house guest, but you thought better of it. After being chastised by Charles, Brittany's easy company was a nice reprieve.
"I hate that her Dad yelled at you." Brittany offered.
"Yeah but he's an ass, so I don't care." You took a bite of your sandwich. "I just feel bad for her." You said with your mouth full, too hungry and tipsy to be mindful of table manners.
"Can I ask you a question?" Brittany asked. You gulped down your bite and nodded. If you had been more sober than you were, the seriousness of Brittany's tone would have made you nervous.
"How did you help Quinn? You don't have to answer, I'm just curious. The way she talked about it, I could tell it was a big deal."
"You mean with the abortion?" You hadn't really talked about this with anyone in a long time. It'd been over ten years now, and it hadn't really been your story to tell. Brittany nodded.
"Well" You started. "Quinn, uh, when she found out she didn't tell her parents, because they would have never… they would have made her keep it. Religion.. all that."
"Yeah, she told me that." Brittany nodded.
"But she told me that she didn't want to be pregnant. But in Ohio you need like, parental consent. Maybe there's exceptions and ways around that, but there wasn't really time to find out."
"Right." Brittany affirmed.
"I had just gotten my license, so we got in my car on a Friday night and drove to Illinois." You shrugged. "The laws were more lax there. She went to Planned Parenthood on Saturday. We drove back as soon as we could."
"Wow. At sixteen?" Brittany asked.
"Yeah. It was risky. And then her parents ended up finding out, and it sucked." You felt sad at the memory. The conversation was starting to sober you up.
"She told me that. Cos the cramps were so bad after the medication."
"Yeah. Her Mom put two and two together, I guess. And then her parents told my parents, and then my parents printed out my credit card statement and made me explain it and... it was this whole thing."
Brittany's eyes were wide, but you could tell it wasn't out of judgement. "Did you pay for it?
You shook your head. "No. I just put it on my credit card because I knew my parents wouldn't have noticed, but hers would have. But Gwenyth blew my cover, obviously. Quinn wired me the money. But I told her Dad tonight that I paid for it, because I knew it'd piss him off some more."
Brittany laughed before she got serious again. "That's… that's a lot for a kid to do for their friend."
"Yeah, but. What else was she going to do? Have a baby?" You shrugged. "I also just… it could've been me. So easily. That's all I remember thinking about. That it could've been me. Quinn and I did so much of the same shit in high school, even slept with the same guys, went to the same parties. Only difference was I was on the pill."
Brittany slowly nodded. "Yeah, I get that."
You swallowed the last bite of your sandwich. "It's weird though, because her parents never said anything to me about it until tonight. They iced me out after it happened, but they never said anything."
"I'm sorry." It was so genuine that it made you shrink on the couch a little bit.
"It's okay. I don't mind being the villain." You let out a small chuckle to break the tension, but Brittany didn't laugh.
"You weren't the villain at all."
"Not with that. But I wasn't the nicest person in high school. So maybe them thinking of me as the villian is my karma now."
Brittany shrugged. "Was anyone that nice in high school?"
"I get the feeling you were." You said. She blushed, and then laughed.
"Maybe. But I didn't have a lot of friends."
That part took you by surprise. Brittany was so charming and nice. "You? Really?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I mean what I told you was true, I dated everyone." You laughed. "But it was hard for me to.. fit in. I would hang around in groups but I never found like.. my people. I don't think kids at my school understood me. But maybe I didn't understand them either.
"Well" you started, "I think you understand me just fine."
Brittany smiled and held eye contact for a moment, then yawned a very big yawn. "Sorry", she said "I gotta go to bed. You all good? Need anything else?"
"No, no. I'll crash in Quinn's bed. If she doesn't puke on me. Thanks for the late dinner, Britt." You smiled.
"Anytime."
Brittany made her way towards the hall. "Hey Santana? I really liked talking to you tonight."
"Yeah, me too."