Unholy Trinity

378 8 10
                                    

A/N: Mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy. :)

------------------------

Santana and Brittany entered the Fabray household in the late morning on New Year's Eve. The day was cold, unusually cold for a December day in Lima, but the two had plans with Quinn that day, though the latter had been radio silent all morning.

"Yo, Quinn, get your lazy ass up," Santana called out as she and Brittany ascended the staircase leading to Quinn's room. They'd let themselves in with the key Quinn had given to them in high school.

"Maybe she's just sick," Brittany suggested as they reached the other blonde's room and were met with a closed door.

"Maybe, but that doesn't explain not answering our texts," Santana said. She muttered in Spanish as she knocked on the door. "Fabray, let's go. We got plans today."

It was silent for a moment before they heard Quinn weakly call out, "Not today."

Santana stepped back from the door with a frown. "Not today? Not today? You did not just tell me that." She continued her mini-tirade in Spanish, animatedly throwing her hands around.

Brittany ignored the other girl and knocked lightly on the door. "Quinnie? Can I come in?"

Another moment of silence, and then a confirmation came from inside the room.

Brittany slowly pushed the door open, and they entered the bedroom. They were met with the sight of Quinn on her bed, curled up , a pained look on her face.

Santana, just a moment before irritated with the blonde, immediately became concerned. "Quinn? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

The blonde on the bed shook her head. "I'm okay," she answered with a strained voice.

"No, you're not," Brittany answered, sitting down on the bed beside Quinn. "You're hurt."

Quinn shook her head and sighed heavily. "I'm not hurt. I'm hurting," she said.

Santana quirked a brow. "What do you mean? What's up, Q?" she questioned as she perched herself on the other side of the bed.

The shorter blonde sat up, wincing as she did, and sighed heavily. "Ever since the accident, I get really bad pain flare ups," she explained, leaning against Brittany. "Most of the time I can deal with them but the drop in temperature is really hitting me hard today."

"Why didn't you text us?" Santana inquired.

"I dropped my phone off the bed, and I didn't want to get up to get it. Everything hurts."

The brunette got up off the bed and walked around, searching for the missing phone. She knelt down to peer under the bed, and found the object in question. A quick glance at the home screen showed the dozens of missed texts from herself and Brittany.

"Well, how can we help?" she asked as she returned to her spot.

"Lord Tubbington can get you some weed if you need it," Brittany interjected. "He's got connections."

"What? Why didn't you tell me this before?" Santana accused before shaking her head. "Nevermind. That's for another time." She turned her attention back to Quinn. "Seriously, Q, what do we need to do to help?"

"You don't need to do anything. I'm not up for much of anything today, and I don't want to ruin your New Year's Eve."

The brunette shook her head. "You're not ruining anything for us."

"Yeah, Quinnie, this is where we want to be,"Brittany assured. "But, seriously, if you want weed, Lord T's got a hook up."

Quinn gave a half smile and shook her head. "No, I'm okay, Britt. If you could get the heating pad off the couch, though, that might help."

Glee One-shotsWhere stories live. Discover now