Forever (sequel to The Hostage)

9

Santana's POV
The next few days pass in a haze. I sleep at the wrong time, and wake up as the sun rises, or sets. I barely eat. It's not deliberate, I'm just never hungry. And because I'm sleeping at weird times, the food is always cold by the time i get to it. So I just leave the tray at the door.

On day 4 of Brittany being held hostage, I'm woken up by the bedroom door being rattled. I've kept it locked for nearly two days now, but nobody's tried to get in until now. The person at the door shakes it again, and then they speak. I was expecting Mercedes or Kurt. Maybe even Tina. But definitely not Quinn.

Q-"Santana? Are you in there?"

I don't reply. Obviously I'm in here.

Q-"Are you, like, alive? Can I come in. Just to check."

I ignore her again. The doors locked. Get the message. Also, I can't be bothered with her right now. She can go cry to Tina about her problems. Not me. Not now.

There's silence, and I think that she's got the message. But there's a scraping noise, and the door swings open, a pin sticking out from the lock. Fuck. Of course she can pick locks.

Q-"Oh. Santana."

She seems at loss for words. I'm aware that I don't look hot right now, but she could at least pretend that I don't look like shit.

Q-"Have you eaten? Or showered? Or..moved?"
S-"Go away. I'm fine."
Q-"I can tell."

She walks over to the door, but doesn't leave. Instead she closes it behind her, and turns to face me.

Q-"The thing is, I can't breathe down there. Everywhere I go, someone is just 'checking in on me'. I can barely take a piss without someone knocking on the door, if I take too long."
S-"Not my problem."
Q-"I won't talk to you or anything. I'll just stay here."
S-"I don't care."
Q-"Exactly. That's why I'm staying here."

She takes another look at me, and she actually looks concerned. Which is surprising since I didn't think she cared about anyone other than herself.

Q-"But I'm still allowed to be worried about you. And right now, you need to sort yourself. Brittany is going to be mad when she comes back and sees that you've faded away, and we've let you."
S-"If she comes back."
Q-"No. When."

There's a hammering at the door. Why can't they all just leave me alone.

T-"Quinn, are you in there? Are you okay?"
Q-"I'm fine."
T-"Can I just come and check-"
Q-"No! I'm just chatting to Santana."
T-"Really? Is she- okay, that's fine. Just don't be a bitch or anything."
Q-"Okay."

I can hear the footsteps retreating. Quinn sits down on the end of the bed. She glances towards me, and gives me a once over. I glare at her, and she looks away, having got the message.

Q-"Sorry. As I said, I've been placed on fucking suicide watch!"

She raises her voice, making sure that Tina can hear her. Sure enough, a vague 'fuck off' can be heard from somewhere in the house.

Q-"And also I'm worried about you. I know that you feel like shit right now, and that you miss Britts with everything. But you need to keep living."
S-"I don't want to."
Q-"Now you're sounding like the suicidal one. So, I'm going to stay here with you. They all suck, and you already don't like me, so there's no worries of our relationship being ruined."

She picks up the remote control, and flicks through the channels. After setting it onto an episode of Modern Family, she shifts back until her back is pressing against the headboard. I sigh, and burrow deeper into the duvet.

Quinn doesn't leave. She watches episode after episode of Modern Family, occasionally laughing under her breath. Then she gets off the bed, and I think 'finally! She's going!" Instead, she wanders around the room, tidying up.