Nightcrawler (A Slimecicle FF)

THIRTEEN

Charlie sat in the waiting room with his head in his hands, exhausted. As soon as Santana had passed out, he'd rushed her to the hospital, scared for her life.

He'd tried to be calm with her as she'd walked through the door, but that's not how he felt. He was hurt. Offended that she didn't say anything to him first.

He jumped to his feet when a doctor met his eyes from across the room, and she sighed.

"She's alright," The doctor assured him, making him relax and nod.

"Why did she pass out?"

"Well..." The lady rubbed her wrist. "Whoever choked her didn't have her long enough to do any permanent damage. But..."

Charlie tilted his head. "But...?"

"The police are here to question you," She stated. "They can't rule anything out yet—"

"Wait," Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. "They think I did this?"

"Nothing's set in stone yet," She assured him. "She'll be waking up any minute, and she'll be able to testify to what happened."

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly more nervous than before. He could go to jail.

He could hear Ted and Schlatt scolding him.

This isn't a game, Charlie. Ted would say. Sure, it was cute to imagine yourself in some ridiculous love story, but you can't keep on with this. Someone could get hurt.

You think you'd make it in jail? Schlatt would most likely be genuinely worried, but not show it. You wouldn't stand a chance. You need to get rid of her before something happens.

Charlie shook it off, meeting the doctor's eyes. "Can I see her?"

She nodded, motioning for him to walk with her. She must have trusted that it wasn't him who hurt Santana, because otherwise, he doubted he'd be able to see her.

He walked into the room, sighing when he saw her peacefully sleeping on the bed. She was okay.

For now.

He was sure he knew who it was. He only wondered why she'd decided to go back. Did she not want to be around Charlie anymore?

He sighed, approaching her bed as the doctor left and closed the door behind her. He sat down beside Santana, putting a hand on her back, which was towards him. She didn't move a muscle, probably because they'd given her an anesthetic.

She wasn't happy when they made it to the hospital.

Charlie let out a shaky breath as the memory flooded back.

Santana had woken up in the car, startling Charlie and nearly making him crash. He was relieved, though, and he'd turned to look at her.

"You're gonna be okay, Santana," He assured her, speeding up a little. She shifted in her seat.

"Where are we going?" She croaked. When he didn't answer, and his grip on the wheel tightened, she repeated herself. "Charlie...where are we going?"

"Hospital," He muttered, avoiding her gaze. He knew she wouldn't be happy with that answer.

Her eyes widened, and she started coughing. She looked like she was in a lot of pain, and the way she frantically shook her head made Charlie's heart sink. She was scared.

"Charlie, no," She widened her eyes even more when he pulled into the parking lot, and she begged him, and he could tell every word she spoke hurt her greatly. "Charlie, please. Let's just go back to your place—Charlie—Charlie, listen to me!"

He didn't. He couldn't. He knew she'd hate him, but she needed this. So he got out of the car and went to her side, lifting her out of her seat and into his arms. He knew she wouldn't be able to fight him as well as if she was healthy, but that didn't stop her from frantically trying to get away from him.

"Charlie, let go!" She shrieked, pushing at him and pleading. He carried her in, though, and a male doctor rushed over. He lifted Santana out of Charlie's arms by her waist. She kicked at the air, and Charlie watched with wide eyes and a hand over his mouth as tears filled her eyes. "Please! Charlie, please! I just want to go home! Just take me home!"

All Charlie could do was bury his head in his hands as her voice faded. What did she mean by home?

Charlie shook off the memory, removing his hand from her shoulder. He shouldn't have brought her there. He betrayed her trust, and he was confident she'd be nothing but angry at him once she woke up.

He didn't want her to hate him.

"I'm dead meat," He muttered to himself, looking down at his hands in his lap.

As she slept, though, he himself grew more and more tired. They'd been at the hospital for hours, and it was already late at night. He needed sleep.

But he wasn't going to leave her.

I'm dead, anyway. He thought to himself, kicking his feet up on the bed and laying down beside her. Might as well go out with a bang.

So he laid there, shoulder touching hers, and closed his eyes. Something about that felt right to him, even though he knew it would probably be the last time he saw her.

"I'm sorry," He whispered into the air before falling asleep.

*****

Charlie woke up when the bed dipped, but he didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to leave that moment.

He heard a soft sigh, and tried his hardest not to raise an eyebrow when a soft hand sifted through his hair.

"I'm sorry," Santana whispered, most likely thinking he was still asleep. "I can't stay. I've...put you in danger, and I'm sorry."

Charlie remained silent, even though his heart dropped. He thought that maybe, if he pretended he was asleep, she'd decide to stay.

"I already told them you're innocent," She assured him, continuing to run her hand through his hair. "I want you to just forget about me, okay, Charlie?"

She sounded on the verge of tears. Charlie hated it.

She sighed again. "I hate you, by the way. You're a big idiot."

But then, she did the unthinkable. Charlie felt her soft lips peck his cheek, and though it was only a second, he felt like it took years.

"But...you're not all that terrible," She whispered, sniffling and pulling away. Charlie couldn't stay silent anymore.

"Don't go," He murmured, letting his eyes flutter open. He watched as she met his eyes and turned a bright red, looking away from him. Her eyes were wide.

"Um," She cleared her throat. "I...I thought you were..."

"Santana," He urged, propping himself up on his elbows. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you want to leave."

She met his gaze, eyes tearing up as she shook her head. "That's not fair, Charlie—"

"You don't want to," Charlie sighed. "What do you want? What's your dream, Santana?"

Her tears fell. "I—I don't—"

"You do know," He stood to his feet, approaching her. "I can see it in your eyes. What do you want? What do you want, Santana—"

"A family!" She shouted, shoving at his chest. "There, I said it! I want a family, one day, and a life. I want out of this hell, Charlie, but I can't escape. I can't..."

She put her head in her hands, and Charlie watched her shoulders tremble as she sobbed into her hands, so he quickly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. She collapsed into him, squeezing him so tightly he pet her hair to try and loosen her grip.

The hug was warm, and Charlie rested his chin on her head with a sigh. He had the feeling that it was enough. Enough to get her to stay.

At least, that was what he hoped.