Hopelessly Devoted To You

Tests.

Author's note: FINALLY, this is here. I know you guys were waiting for it for longer than I intended. But real life went all bitchy on me. I'm sorry.

Just a little clarification. Even if this fic mostly follows cannon developments, especially regarding to everything that happened before the "I do" episode...Beth doesn't exist. You will understand once you read this.

Without further ado...enjoy!

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As I kept walking towards the hospital I couldn't believe that Quinn actually had the nerve to leave me alone. Yeah, we had fought, but really? Was she honestly going to leave me alone? I even heard my own car passing by me as I was still fighting my tears desperately. Everything was fucked up. I felt the urge to call Brittany and ask her to rip Quinn's head off once she got home. I even felt the urge to call Rachel and ask her to come get me. But I didn't give in to any of those urges, I was stubborn as hell after all. I was left to deal with this alone? Okay, fine, I would. I was absolutely sure that Brittany would dismember Quinn anyway once she found out she had gone back home, without me.

Even if we hadn't been that far from the hospital, it felt like ages to get there walking. I wasn't one to exercise that much, well I hadn't been for the last five years. I loved being in shape but I had been touched by Gods giving me an awesome metabolism, and well, I had been working out every night after all. That thought put a pleasant smirk on my face but it quickly died as I felt sweat starting to roll down my face and that was something I simply couldn't take. It was going to ruin my make up. So I ran my hands up my face to gather all the moisture, followed by twirling my fingers through my own hair. Not that I was happy with ruining my hair, but it was better than making an entrance at the ER with smudged mascara. Well, that was until I realized I actually wasn't wearing any make up. For God's sake, I was barely wearing any decent clothes. So much for leaving the house hurriedly with a raging hangover.

Obviously my train of thought only fueled my rage and by the time I made it to the hospital I could almost feel the steam blowing out my ears. If I hadn't been so caught up in my own shit I would have probably noticed my car neatly parked there, or the fact that none of my roommates had called me yet to see if I was alive. I entered the ER, angry as I was, and giving the nurse behind the counter my signature Santana Lopez death glare, even if she wasn't even looking at me, and I stopped dead in my tracks when a velvety voice spoke up right behind me. For some stupid reason my heart soared at the realization that I wasn't alone as I thought; that Quinn actually hadn't had the nerve to leave me alone. I almost wanted to smile. Almost.

Instead of smiling, I quietly sat down beside her, the smell of her perfume invading my nostrils. She still used the same, my favorite. I didn't speak, again I didn't know what to say, but I could feel Quinn moving around in her chair as if trying to gain my attention, but I kept my eyes fixated somewhere on the wall across the room right in front of me.

"I'm sorry." Quinn suddenly said. It was as quiet as a whisper, and if I wouldn't have had all my senses in hyper-aware mode I probably wouldn't have heard it, but I did. And as only response, I let out a tired sigh.

"Santana, I do lo-...care about you." the blonde tried again. Her stutter and fumble over words didn't go unnoticed to me, but I still remained silent. I knew she cared about me, but that wasn't enough. It had never been enough.

I heard her moving again and I almost felt the way her mouth was opening to say yet another stupidity, so I decided to beat her to it and finally spoke myself.