Chapter 14

{Flashback}

"Calling Mrs Baker a bitch, eighth grade." Puck said, passing the weed blunt to Santana. 

"Stuffing Jeremy in the trash can at the front of the school, freshman year" Santana replied, taking a long drag and then handing it back.

"Woah, that's a good one. I totally forgot about that. Uuhh…" 

"That's a drink of this baby" Santana said, laughing as she handed Puck a bottle of tequila. Puck grimaced but took the bottle and gulped. 

"Fuck that burns. Okay, putting shaving cream in that girls shampoo, sixth grade"

Santana laughed loudly, slapping her knee. "Man I'm great. Yeah that was awesome" she shook her head as Puck tried to pass her the smoke, "didn't say the name, doesn't count. Plus, you never actually saw me do it. Double doesn't count." Puck scowled, taking another sip from the battle. 

"Oh I got one Lopez," Puck smirked. "Dropping a bucket of mud on Suzy every day at lunch for a whole week because 'pigs need a constant supply of mud and you didn't want her to miss home too much." They both descended into hysterics as they remembered the look on Suzy's face every time Santana would do that. 

"Dude" Santana exclaimed, after letting out the smoke she'd exhaled. "They called my parents for that, and in the end I was told I had to apologise to her and her parents. So that night my mum made me rehears an apology, and then we went to her house and I was supposed to say the whole thing right there at the doorstep." Santana stopped, interrupted by a new wave of giggles. Puck joined her. "So" she continued once she'd recovered, "I asked my mum if I could read from the paper I'd written the speech on, and she said no cause then it wouldn't be sincere, so I had to improvise"

"What did you say" Puck said, already laughing in anticipation. 

"I said that I did my research, and pigs are actually one of the most mistreated animals in America, and I didn't want to be a part of that animal cruelty, so I was sincerely sorry, both for her, and her family members." Puck howled with laughter. 

"Legendary"

Santana lay on her back, her vision extremely blurry, and stomach aching from the longevity of her laughter. Beside her, Puck was laughing just as hard, rolling over onto his stomach. Before either of them could realise that he was on the edge of the bed, he was on the floor. Santana burst into more laughter. 

As Puck staggered to his feet, a phone chimed. Both their phones were on the table beside his bed, so he flipped them both over. 

"It's Britt-Britt" he said mockingly. 

Santana stopped laughing, turning to face him. "So?"

"Aren't you going to reply?"

"I'll talk to her later."

"Why not just talk to her now?"

"I'm high as fuck"

"So? Your girlfriend doesn't like it when you're high?"

"She's not my girlfriend! I'm not a fucking lesbian." Santana said angrily, pushing herself to sit up, facing away from Puck. She missed his eyebrow raise. 

"Whatever. All I'm saying is that it would be hot as hell watching you guys making out again. That was some serious bathroom time material you gave me that day."

"Gross Puckerman. Can we please talk about anything else?"

"We could just have sex"

Santana considered this, but shook her head. She was going over to Brittany's later, and she didn't want to have been with Puck just hours before. Not in that way. It scared her half to death, but she really couldn't deny it for much longer. She had no interest in having sex with Puck, or any other guy for that matter. It just wasn't the same as when she was with Brittany, as gay as that was, not to mention that Brittany always got weird and quiet when she found out Santana had recently slept with Puck. It just made her life easier, made her feel less guilty, to not sleep with him. Fortunately for her, Puck had yet to catch on to the fact that they hadn't slept together in almost two weeks. Either that or he didn't care. He did seem distracted by that Lauren girl.

"Maybe after"

"Cool. Well, I have one more blunt we can hit. It'll get us to that sweet level of the munchies."

Before Santana could reply, they heard the front door open roughly, slamming against the wall, and then slamming shut. Puck turned away from Santana as the voice of a man, clearly extremely drunk, filled the house. They sat in silence as they heard him throw something made of glass, as he stormed up the stairs and banged on Puck's door, demanding he open up and face him like a man, called him many, many names, a disgusting waste of space bastard the most memorable, and then proceeded to yell for Puck's mother by shouting 'where's my good little whore'.

When the house was silent again, Santana could see Puck fighting tears. His jaw was clenching furiously, his fists balled up and chest heaving. 

"Just let it out." She said quietly. Puck shook his head, standing up and pacing. "The more you hold it in, the angrier you get. I know-"

"You don't know anything. Your parents aren't home most of the time. You don't know what it feels like to have your mum's douchebag of a boyfriend treating you like dirt. Treating your mum like dirt. You don't know what it feels like to stay awake most nights because you're scared he's so drunk he's going to hit her."

"No. I don't know what that's like, but anger is anger Puck. It doesn't matter what we're angry at. All I know is that this kind…this kind of pain-"

"I'm not in pain." Puck said furiously. Santana clenched her jaw, staring at Puck for a few seconds, then she stood up, walked up to Puck, and shoved him hard in the chest.

"Stop"

"What?" She shoved him again, harder this time. 

"Fucking stop it" Santana moved to push him again, but he caught her hands. She fought against him, kicking him and using her body weight to push him. "What the hell is the matter with you? Why do you always have to be such an annoying bitch all of the time?"

"It's fun"

Puck pushed her down on the bed, using his body to still her. "You think you're so clever and funny, like you're the shit and better than everyone, and god's gift to the human race, but you're not. You think you can just do whatever you want, say whatever you want and not have to face anything."

"Yeah that's right. Cause I don't. I'm rich and hot."

"Fuck you" Puck said loudly, and Santana knew her plan had worked by the crack in his voice. "Fuck…you" he said, leaning more heavily against her and dropping his head onto her back. "Fuck you." He was now fully crying.

"Yeah…I know."

Unable to bear the emotional breakdown Puck was having, Santana waited until he had moved off her, then announced that she had to go, put on her shirt and left. She was at Brittany's house in fifteen minutes, and having an orgasm within the hour. Neither she nor Puck ever talked about that day again. 

{End flahsback}

**********************************************************************************

Jessie called ten minutes later to say that a nurse had come to get Santana and Brittany to update them. They left the NICU at a run, impatiently waiting for the elevator. Brittany pressed the button repeatedly, muttering a hushed, 'come on, come one' under her breath. When the elevator arrived, they quickly got in and punched the close button. They didn't talk about the baby they were leaving in the NICU, or what it meant. They couldn't think about that now. Not when the nurse could be telling them that Puck had died. 

They stepped out of the elevator on their floor and jogged through the corridor, looking for their room. 

"Are you sure it's this way?" Santana asked as Brittany took a sharp right turn. 

"Yeah." Brittany nodded. 

Santana's phone rang before she could say that this corridor didn't look familiar. 

"Q" she breathed. 

"Santana what the hell is happening? Are you guys okay? Jessie's tried to call me like four times."

"No. We're not okay. Things aren't okay Q."

Santana stopped walking, reaching out to pull Brittany to a stop too.

"We need to get to the room." Brittany said, trying to walk forward again. 

"It's Quinn."

Santana held the phone out for Brittany.

Brittany looked at the phone, then at Santana, then back at the phone. She swallowed. 

"I can't."

"B you're better-"

Brittany shook her head. "I can't." She took a step back from Santana, took her hand and began marching them down the corridor. "I'm going to get us back to our room."

Santana looked down at her phone. Taking a deep breath she put it to her ear.

"SANTANA"

"Sorry." Santana said quickly. "Okay listen…We're at the hospital-"

"Why what happened? Are the boys okay? Was there an accident?"

"Kind of. Puck's been shot."

Quinn was so silent that Santana had to check to make sure the call hadn't dropped. 

"Quinn?"

"What hospital are you at?"

  ********************

By the time they'd gotten to their room, Santana had finished with Quinn. She hadn't been as hysterical as Santana was expecting, but she also knew Quinn well. She didn't do well when faced with overwhelming emotion, much like Santana herself. Santana figured her breakdown would come when they heard Puck was okay. If They heard Puck was okay. 

They found a nurse in the room with Jessie, standing by the door.

"Here they are" Jessie said, as they approached. 

The nurse turned to them, smiling kindly. 

"Is he okay?" Santana asked immediately. 

"He made it out of surgery." She said. Brittany's whole body seemed to relax. She exhaled heavily, stepping closer to Santana and taking her hand. "For the next two days we'll need to watch him carefully."

"But for now…he's okay?" Santana asked. 

The nurse pressed her lips together, looking at them sympathetically. 

"For now, he's alive."

It wasn't lost on Santana that the nurse was refusing to say that Puck was or would be okay but she didn't want to get too into it right now. Right now it was enough that he was out of surgery and alive. She could deal with tomorrow, tomorrow. 

"Can we see him?"

"Yes." The nurse nodded. "I'll take you to his room. He's in the ICU and still sleeping but yes, you can see him."

"ICU" Brittany said, shaking her head. "That's bad right?"

"He's not in surgery" Santana said, squeezing Brittany's hand. "ICU just means they're watching him carefully, so if anything happens they'll help him immediately."

Brittany nodded, blinking back tears. "Okay."

  ***********************

Brittany broke down the second they walked into Puck's room. Santana wrapped her arms around her, rubbing her back soothingly as Brittany cried into her chest. She couldn't blame her. Puck had a tube in his mouth, that branched off into two tubes before entering the machine beside his bed. There were wires and lines and more than one beeping machine, and all of it made Puck look in really bad shape. It was scary. 

"Ssh baby" Santana kissed the side of Brittany's head, reaching into her back pocket to retrieve her buzzing phone. Quinn was calling. "Babe." Santana put her phone back in her pocket and stepped back enough to look at Brittany. "Baby, look at me." She wiped Brittany's cheeks. "Go get Quinn."

"What?" Brittany sniffed. 

"Quinn's here. She doesn't know where we are or where to go. Go get her."

Brittany wiped her eyes. 

"Okay" she nodded. "Where is she?"

"I don't know. Call her."

"Okay" Brittany sniffed again, glanced at Puck and then left. Santana watched her. When she couldn't see her through the glass anymore, she turned to Puck, sighing.

"Damn it Puckerman."

  *********************

The three of them spent the rest of the night and most of the next day by Quinn's bed. His band mates showed up the next morning and left just before lunch. Quinn Brittany and Santana stayed until nearly 4. Brittany hadn't stopped crying.

"I think we need to relieve Jessie." Brittany said, standing from her chair. "He's been on duty for over twelve hours."

"Sit down Brittany." Quinn said from beside Puck's bed where she was holding his hand. Brittany frowned at her. 

"Why?"

"Because with the way you're crying you're just going to scare the boys."

Brittany wiped furiously at her cheeks and eyes, trying to get rid of her tears. 

Santana stood up, cracking her back. 

"I'll go B."

"Are you sure?" 

Santana nodded. 

"Since I'm leaving, does anyone want anything?"

Quinn shook her head. 

"A coffee okay." Santana said, nodding. "Britt?"

"Maybe a change of clothes?"

"Got it." She walked to Brittany, kissing her tenderly. "I'll be back soon."

"I love you" Brittany said quietly. 

"Love you too" Santana mouthed. 

"Q, stretch your legs or something."

Quinn didn't even turn to look at her. Her eyes remained fixed on Puck's still one. 

"No."

Santana pursed her lips, looking at Brittany, who shrugged sadly.

"Okaaaay" she sighed. "I'll see you babe."

When Santana closed the door, Brittany retook her seat, watching Quinn's stiff body. 

"Are you sure you don't want a water or something?"

"Yup"

"Quinn…"

"What?" Quinn turned to look at her, and Brittany's heart broke just a little more. Her eyes were red, her cheeks flushed and tip of her nose red. There were bags of exhaustion under her eyes, making them look sunken and adding to the general tired look that Quinn was giving off. 

"He made it through the night, so he might be okay."

"You don't know that." Quinn said, turning back to Puck. "You don't know that."

"The doctors said that every night he makes it is a good sign."

"And we're at one. Anything could happen B. One night isn't a sign he'll live."

"Don't you want it to be?"

"Not all of us can just exit reality and take up residence in whatever fairy tale world you brain conjured up when you were a kid, where everything works out and everyone's nice and all that bullshit Brittany. The rest of us normal people actually have to face the crap the world throws at us. Do you know what that means?"

Brittany kept her face neutral, refusing to get hurt. 

"You're scared for Puck, and you're tired."

"It means that there's a real possibility that Noah dies Brittany. Can you understand that?"

"Quinn" Brittany warned. 

Quinn stood up. "Can you stop spewing rainbows and sunshine for a second, and admit that Puck might not live? That no amount of stupid comments like 'he's going to be okay' are going to save him?"

"QUINN!" Brittany stood up as well. "Stop it. You can be as upset as you want, but I won't allow you to talk to me like that. Take a walk."

"I'm not leaving-"

"Take a damn walk." Brittany said forcefully, cutting her off. "And when you come back I'll be waiting for an aplogy."

Shoving past Quinn, Brittany took the seat beside Puck's bed and took the hand Quinn had been holding. She didn't look back as Quinn opened and shut the door.

  *********************

It felt like hours before either Santana or Quinn returned. Brittany fell asleep twice, waking up with her head resting on Puck's hand each time. A nurse came in, checked the machines and tubes and wrote things down on a clipboard before leaving. She didn't speak once. 

Brittany was really beginning to hate hospitals. The doctors always seemed irritated by her questions, and the nurses always seemed too busy to answer them. There were big, scary things happening all over the place, but no one stopped to explain any of it to her. Which meant that your friend could be shot, his life hanging in the balance, and you have no idea how he's doing. They always gave vague answers like, 'for now we just don't know' or 'we'll have to wait and see.' Brittany hated it. 

When Quinn returned she took the seat in the corner silently. Brittany didn't push her to talk. Santana came back an hour later with coffee and donuts for all of them, clothes, burgers and water bottles. 

"Any change?" She asked when she came in. 

"No." Brittany stood up and hugged her. Seeing Puck like that had her feeling particularly grateful for Santana's health and safety. She hugged her tight, breathing in her smell and feeling her pulse. "You showered."

"Yeah" Santana chuckled. "Figured I was beginning to get a bit rank."

"Lucky."

"You can switch out if you want?"

Brittany shook her head. 

"New clothes is enough."

"Okay."

Santana handed Quinn her coffee, burger and water. 

"Thanks" Quinn said quietly. 

They ate in silence.

When they'd finished and all the wrappers had been thrown in the bin, Brittany squeezed into Santana's chair with her, basically sitting on her lap.

"How long do you think it'll be till he wakes up."

"I don't know" Santana said, looking at Puck. "It shouldn't take long really. It's not like he had brain surgery."

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked sharply, sitting forward. 'Do you think something's wrong?"

"No" Santana picked her empty water bottle and threw it Puck. It bounced off his legs. 

"Santana!" Quinn yelled. 

"Come on Puckerman!" Santana said loudly. "Wake up and throw it back."

Puck remained still. 

Santana sighed. 

"He'll be o-"

"I swear to god Brittany if you say he'll be okay one more fucking time."

"Hey what's your problem?" Santana asked, frowning at Quinn. "She's being positive, which is what we need."

"She's being naïve."

"Watch it." Santana warned, pointing a finger at Quinn. 

"Or what?" Quinn asked. "You'll stop talking to me?"

"Oh." Santana scoffed. "You're throwing a fit right now because you were insensitive while I was dealing with a fucking racist idiot, and I didn't rush to forgive you?"

"Rush to forgive me?" Quinn asked. "You walked out and didn't talk to me for three weeks."

Santana shrugged. "I didn't feel like making you feel better."

"I didn't ask you to."

"Guys, let's not do this now." Brittany said. "Right now we're all sleep deprived and high strung. We're freaking out about Noah and aren't really in our best places emotionally. You'll both end up saying things you'll regret."

Quinn and Santana glared at each other for a moment before nodding. 

"Fine. Let's call a truce." Quinn said. 

"Fine." Santana said, nodding. "Truce, until Noah get's better."

"Fine." Quinn nodded. 

"See" Brittany said, smiling. "There's your positive attitude Quinn."