#waynquinn

[bruciemilf]

Bruce, on his second bottle of wine, talking to Alfred on the phone: I need help with something stupid

Harley, walking in with only one roller skate on, her shirt inside out, eating cereals with water: You rang?

[whereareyounow-rpg]

Please re-follow QUINN FABRAY because the player has decided to step back into the role and resume her position as co-admin. (x)

[just--wanky]

NEVER CAN SAY GOODBYE → QUINN FABRAY

TAGGING → Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez

LOCATION → Noah's Joint/Quinn's Apartment

TIME FRAME → Sunday, January 5th, 2014 

GENERAL NOTES → When Santana finds out that Brittany is back in town, she goes out with the intention of getting wasted. At the bar, she runs into Quinn, whose problems have only gotten worse since the last time they spoke.

In the six months since Alex’s passing, Quinn had made it her job to not leave the apartment besides for the necessities: the grocery store, to pick up her mail, to pay her bills, and to go to work. That was, until, the evening she was on her way home from work and passed a small little bar in the middle of the city. ‘Noah’s Joint’ the sign above the doors read, the neon lights catching her attention almost immediately. It was enticing, and like it was calling out to her, telling her that she needed to be inside of the small, but seemingly nice place. As amazing as the outside had seemed, the inside was even better. Quinn had instantly been greeted by the longest bar she had ever seen, people of all different characters, and the smell of beer lingering in the air. In the matter of a few quick weeks, Noah’s Joint became Quinn’s second home. When she wasn’t at her apartment or at the autoshop, she was at the bar, and she was completely fine with that. Which is why it was no surprise that she made her way to Noah’s after work on the cold, lonely Sunday night. Taking her usual spot at the bar, a shot and a beer were placed in front of her, causing a smile to form on her lips. “Thanks, Kenny,” She shouted over the music to the bartended who had spent far too much time listening to her cry about her life. An hour or two passed, or was it three?, and Quinn had easily pounded more than a couple shots. She was feeling good, or numb. Which was pretty synonymous with her version of good nowadays. When she didn’t have to feel anything, that’s when Quinn was the most content. Lifting a cold beer to her lips, she leaned her head back to let the liquid roll down her throat.

Santana Lopez:

It was safe to say that Santana's life, the life she had been working so hard to build for herself over the last four years, completely crumbled in a matter of hours. All the progress she had made without Brittany, all the heart ache she had finally overcome was gone and she was back at square one. Funny how one conversation had the power to change everything. San never expected to talk to Brittany again after what happened between them. For fuck's sake, the brunette had basically gotten her girlfriend addicted to drugs and almost killed. Not many people can come back rom that. But still, the second she saw Quinn and Brittany talking about her new life in New York, the Latina felt an unwavering urge to text her. Was it smart? Nope, probably not. But she had no self-control when it came to Brittany so it was no surprise that she went for it anyway. The text exchange was short and heavy and everything Santana dreamed of but also her worst nightmare. It was good to know Brittany missed her, but she had met someone else. That fact alone was enough to send Santana straight to the liquor cabinet. However, since Rachel had essentially downed everything they had the night before, San would have to find her escape elsewhere. Noah's Joint used to be her go-to place when Puck first opened it, but she got over it after a while. However, seeing as her past was revisiting her, she figured she'd stick with the theme. The walk to the bar was short, and once she got in she immediately let the warm air produced by body heat envelop her. After a moment of glancing around the place to take in the changes, she made her way to the bar. A new tender who she hadn't met before immediately served her the two shots of tequila she requested to get her night started. She downed both shots and hardly flinched. She already felt numb. "Another round, please" she asked once he was back, and while he poured her shots a second time around, she looked to her left and had to blink several times to make sure she wasn't making it up. "Quinn?" she called out, too quietly to be heard over the loud music. With a grunt, S picked up her shots and moved to a seat right beside the blonde, placing them down on the counter in front of her aggressively before turning to her friend...or ex-friend, she wasn't really sure. "Quinn!" she shouted this time, realizing that the young woman still hadn't noticed or acknowledged her presence.

Quinn Fabray:

Though she probably wouldn’t admit it to anyone on any given day, Noah’s Joint seemed to be the only place that put an actual genuine smile on Quinn’s face. Or that even seemed to make her somewhat happy. It was her safe place. It was the one place she couldn’t be touched – by anyone from her past or by anyone that knew about her and Alex’s past. Besides Puck and the occasional Blaine, that was. But, she had somehow managed to steer clear of Puck so far, dodging him when he’d run in to talk to the bartender about something urgent or to break up a fight. And, Blaine was far too sweet and respectful to push Quinn past the limits she put on their conversation topics. So, she felt safe and secure. Until, that is, the familiar voice of her past managed to stop her heart and make the hairs on her skin stand up straight. She turned her head to the left, her eyes glassy as she locked in on the Latina sitting next to her. “Santana,” She replied coldly, her tongue rubbing against her teeth as she geared up for her next shot. If this was how tonight was about to go down, she was going to need ten more

Santana Lopez:

Quinn looked like absolute shit. Santana noticed it the second she got close enough to really get a good look at her face. She had bags under her eyes, her hair wasn't up to par, and the old Quinn Fabray wouldn't have been caught dead without a little bit of blush. The brunette didn't even try to hide the grimace that made its way on to her face at the sight of her old friend. "Hot damn," she said under her breath, resting her elbow on the counter as she leaned her side into it, tilting her head as her eyes shot daggers into Quinn's. "You look like hell," she told her honestly, spinning in her stool so that she was facing the bar as she downed her third, and then her fourth shot, the alcohol burning her throat comfortingly. From the side of her eye, she could see the bitch look Q was sporting, the one reserved for situations in which she was either going to walk away or crack somebody's nuts. Then she watched her down the last shot she had in front of her. With a sigh, San looked at the bar tender who was now in front of them again, waiting to see if he could help them in any way. "Two more rounds please. Put hers on my tab" San ordered, pursing her lips as she debated what to say. She didn't have words, so she just cleared her throat and hoped Q would say something even if it was snarky.

Quinn Fabray:

Quinn hated the way Santana looked at her. She hated the way Santana always looked at her when she was in a crappy situation. It was the same look she sported when she came to into Quinn’s room at the hospital right after Quinn signed the papers to give Beth away, the same look when Santana sat in Quinn’s room with her when she dodged endless phone calls from Puck that summer, and once again the same look she had when Quinn waltzed up to her for the first time in her pink hair stage. It was like Santana could see through her – like she could see the thoughts and emotions Quinn tried so, so hard to keep bottled up and locked away deep inside her. “Well, I feel like it too, so I’m glad I got at least one thing going for me,” She replied as she lifted her glass to cheers with herself. “Stop,” Quinn said, her hand rising slowly. “I can pay for myself, yanno. I didn’t need your help back then, and I don’t need it now.”

Santana Lopez:

Quinn's response earned her a scoff from Santana. Tonight was not going to be about feeling bad for Q, not if the brunette could help it. She had done that enough already and look where it got them. They hadn't spoken in weeks and now they were seated at a bar together with no idea what to say to each other. "Yeah, at least you've got that" San retorted, rolling her eyes as she brushed some hair off her shoulder. It was so classic of her to reduce herself to nothing whenever things got tough. San was a little surprised when Q rejected her offer to pay, but then again it made complete sense. Quinn never took anything from anybody. "Fine" San sassed, looking at the bar tender. "Put my drinks on her tab, instead" she ordered, flashing Q her infamous smirk as she tossed back another shot. Her skin and her mind were both buzzing as the alcohol moved through her body, leaving her confident and shameless. "But for the record," she started, sighing deeply, "you and I both know that your whole miss independent thing is a crock of shit. So, you can either keep it up and make this night difficult. Or, you could drink with me" she suggested, pushing a shot towards Quinn hesitantly. A peace offering.

Quinn Fabray:

Quinn shrugged at the bartender when he shot her a look to see if placing the drinks on her tab was alright. Hell, if she was going down tonight, she might as well bring someone else down with her. There was no harm in paying the price for it. Literally. Quinn shot a look of annoyance, or she hoped that’s what it was (but really, it was more of bored mixed with sick), and her fingers lightly dragged the shot glass towards her. She started down at it, as if she could see her reflection in it. A small laugh escaped her throat, and she lazily shook her head. “I’m drinking this shot because I want to, not because I accept your half assed unspoken apology.”

Santana Lopez:

"You think I owe you an apology?" Santana inquired dubiously, squinting her eyes at Quinn with furrowed brows. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the only one being a bitch from hell that day" S reminded her, swallowing back the rest of her pride. "Plus," she began again, her need to keep it civil dissolving, "you are a fucking traitor. I get that we were fighting, but you knew Brittany was back and didn't even have the decency to tell me. I wouldn't have done that to you" Santana told her, shooting her a look of both disappointment and anger. They were supposed to be besties for life, that was what they always said. Maybe that didn't matter to Quinn anymore, but it still mattered to San.

Quinn Fabray:

“Well, that’d be a start.” Quinn slurred, but only slightly as she pulled herself into control. She’d be damned if she let anyone, especially Santana, begin to tell her how much of an alcoholic she had become. In her eyes, she was simply forgetting her problems with a simple swig (or twenty) of a drink. And really, it wasn’t like it was anyone’s business. “Seriously, Santana?” She laughed, her eyes rolling like it was her job. “You would do the same thing? Really? Tell me more.” Pushing the empty shot glass away from her, Quinn’s face hung low. “It wasn’t my space. I just found out about it, too, and I didn’t want to be the one to dump her news on you when I hadn’t talked to you and I barely talk to her.”

Santana Lopez:

"When I get my apology for your totally uncalled for bitch slap," Santana began, daring to look at Quinn while she spoke, "then maybe I'll apologize for trying to get you out of your spiraling depression and giving you some tough love" she finished, sarcasm woven intricately into her words. As far as she was concerned, what she did wasn't wrong. Sure, shit had escalated all too quickly, but deep down Q knew Santana's intentions were good so why things got so out of hand was beyond her. When Quinn defended herself, Santana looked away. She kept her eyes on the tequila in front of her, letting the strong scent of the liquor distract her from the truth behind the blonde's words. "Well, still" Santana stated defeatedly, realizing that as always Quinn had a good point. Pursing her lips into a tight line, S then gripped her next shot and knocked it back, easy. Clearing her throat, she arranged her empty glasses into a little hexagon and tapped her fingers along the counter top, debating her next move. "If you tell anyone I'm saying this, I'm going to deny it" S began lazily, rolling her shoulders back as she straightened herself out, "but as helpful as Berry is...I need you, too, okay? Now especially. And I know you're not going to admit it but you need me too, so can we cut the crap? This isn't high school anymore" she slurred, her emotions getting the best of her as they often did when she was drunk.

Quinn Fabray:

“Don’t hold your breath,” Quinn warned, running a couple fingers through her now long blonde hair. “If you’re waiting for an apology from me, you’re not gonna get it.” Though she /was/ sorry for the words she hurled at Santana and the way she attacked the girl via a powerful slap, Quinn would never apologize to her. Honestly, it would take a miracle to get anything similar to an apology uttered from Quinn’s lips. Especially to Santana, the girl who was supposed to be her best friend and hurt her just as much, if not more, as Quinn did. While Santana didn’t slap Quinn back, the words she spat at Quinn had just the same effect. The way she diminished Quinn and Alex’s relationship and the accident made Quinn feel like she was nothing except for a powerless, emotional little girl. And that was something Quinn would never, ever forget. Another laugh rolled off Quinn’s lips as the words ‘Berry’ and ‘high school’ were mentioned. “You’re best friends with Berry now? Looks like someone’s still living the past.”

Santana Lopez:

"Wasn't planning on it" Santana admitted, rolling her eyes yet again. It seemed like that was the only look she had left for Quinn. An eye roll or a scowl. There was no warmth in their relationship anymore, and while it made Santana sad because she knew she was partly at fault, it irritated her that Quinn didn't show any sign of remorse. It was like everything she cared about died along with Alex, and while part of San understood, part of her was offended that her friendship was suddenly so worthless. So easy to give up. You win some and you lose some, San guessed. She lost Britt. She lost Quinn. But she still had some people who cared for her around. Were they the people she expected? Not at all. She never thought the unholy trinity would come to such a tragic end, nor did she think she'd ever live with Kurt and Rachel, but people always surprise tended to surprise her in both good and bad ways. "Living in the past?" Santana scoffed, turning to face the blonde with a look of disbelief. "You're kidding, right? Just because I've managed to keep a few friends from high school doesn't mean I'm 'living in the past' Quinn" she shot back defensively, using finger quotes when she mocked Quinn's words. If San was being honest, Q was in no place to talk about living in the past, seeing as she'd been drowning in it for six months. But Santana wasn't nearly drunk enough to say that out loud. "And you know what? Berry is a great friend. Unlike some people" San added passive aggressively, scooting away from the blonde in her stool discreetly. How had things gotten this shitty between them?

Quinn Fabray:

To be perfectly honest, Quinn had stopped listening to Santana as soon as the words ‘Berry’ left the Latina’s lips. Quinn Fabray didn’t care about Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez’s friendship. If she was asked, they could forget about her and go on their merry way. (But, if she was being completely honest, she’d say how much it killed her to watch Santana hanging out with and confiding in someone that wasn’t Quinn.) /She/ was Santana’s best friend, for goodness sakes. She was supposed to be the one listening to Santana vent about Brittany, supposed to be the one watch Santana reach new successes in the business. But, that was all over now, and Quinn was left with no one but herself. And she’d be fine, because she was Quinn Fabray, and she didn’t need anyone. “You know what,” She began, her finger twirling. “I don’t need to listen to this.” Quinn planted her two feet on the ground and pulled herself off her chair, gently swaying from side to side before righting herself to walk out of the bar. “Goodbye, Santana.” She called, her very wobbly steps guiding her to the door. It wasn’t but four seconds later that she tripped, grabbing hold of the shoulder of the nearest guy.

Santana Lopez:

After her final statement, San expected Quinn to fight back or sass her some more. Maybe she'd even call her out on almost killing Brittany again, anything really. After all, that was clearly the direction their night was going in. However Santana was surprised to find that apparently Quinn wanted no part in another throw down. Before the brunette knew it, Quinn was drunkenly waving a finger in her face, causing S to back up a bit with a sneer. Quinn was running from the situation /again/. Through squinted eyes, Santana watched as the blonde drunkenly got out of her seat and stumbled away, making it a few feet before nearly dislocating some guy's shoulder as she tumbled down. "Okay," San said decisively, hopping out of her seat on instinct. Shaking her head at herself, the Latina walked over to Quinn and grabbed her upper arm, pulling her up until she was centered on her feet. 'God, when did you become so fucking soft?' San thought to herself, looking up in frustration before focusing on Quinn again. "I've got your back, come on. Let's get you home" she suggested, adjusting her grip around Q who was clearly more obliterated than she previously thought. Obviously Santana knew that this didn't change anything between them, but Quinn was still someone she used to care about. She wasn't about to let her crawl home in a drunken stupor without any sort of guidance.

Quinn Fabray:

Quinn couldn’t remember the last time she was this drunk. Well, she couldn’t really remember anything, but she definitely had never reached this level of intoxication before. Her whole world started spinning, like the room was a tornado and she was the cow that had been twirled around in the wind. Arms were wrapped around her almost instantly, and she tried to pull away, but the grip of the person behind her was relentless. The voice came as no surprise to her. It was Santana, or at least she though it was. The noise from the speakers were fading in and out, and suddenly, Quinn felt like she was going to be sick. “Let go,” She slurred, once again trying to force herself out of the grip. “I don’t need your help.”

Santana Lopez:

Santana had seen Quinn drunk before. She'd seen her drunk off of wine coolers and she'd seen her drunk off of hard liquor. They were two very different kinds of intoxicated, that was for sure, and San had come to know them both well. However, on that same note, S had never seen the blonde so drunk to the point where she couldn't hold herself together. Quinn was always the best at not losing her shit, but that was not the case tonight. Q was blatantly out of it, and even while she tried to fight Santana's grip, her attempts were feeble and weak and sloppy. It was almost like she was thrashing at thin air. "Come on, Q" San said, adjusting her hold on the girl and holding down her arms so she would stop fighting. "Quit being so goddamn stubborn and just let me take you home," Santana pleaded, doing her best to sober up from her previous tipsy state in order to properly take care of the girl who clearly needed it.

Quinn Fabray:

“Where is he, Santana?” she questioned, her eyes darting all around the bar as the tears streamed down her cheeks in hot, destructive rivers. “I need him,” she cried, reaching out for him, but the only person within her grasp was Santana. So she latched on. “I need Alex. Bring me to him, Santana.” Suddenly, Quinn felt like she couldn't breathe. There wasn't enough air in the crowded bar to fill her lungs and she felt like she was drowning. "Santana, I can't" she started, heaving in between breaths. "I can't go home without him" she explained, desperate for someone to understand. "Where is he?!" she shouted, a crippling sob escaping her as she tightened her grip on either side of Santana. Her breathing was completely irregular and staggered. Her eyes were suddenly overwhelmed by all of the different lights in the bar and the sound of the blaring music was creating too much static in her mind. What was happening to her? Moving both of her hands up to her ears, Quinn began shaking her head uncontrollably, trying to stop everything around her from moving so fast. "Please make it stop" she begged repeatedly, squeezing her eyes shut until it felt like her eye lids had molded together to the point where she'd never be able to open them again, never be able to see a world without Alex in it.

Santana Lopez:

Everything happened way too fast once Santana got a hold of Quinn. Moments ago, the blonde had been the same old Quinn Fabray that everyone was used to. She walked tall (drunk, but tall) and she didn't need anyone's help. However, it was like the second San refused to let her go, she snapped. "What are you talking about?" San asked, but it was useless. Quinn wasn't hearing her, so all S could do was hold her as she begged and cried and heaved. The brunette had /never/ seen the girl in this state. She didn't know what to do. "It's going to be okay," she kept saying, her voice more twisted and tormented each time she repeated the statement. Suddenly, Q was shaking her head and closing her eyes. Santana had to get them out of there and fast. Though it was no easy task, San managed to lead them both out of the bar and she immediately waved down a taxi. She ride was short, but through out the whole thing S held Quinn, rubbing her back as the blonde slowly but surely began to calm down. Once they reached Quinn's apartment, San led them up the stairs and she used the spare key under the carpet to let them in. She wanted to get the girl into bed fast, so once they were in the bedroom she took off her shoes and that was it. "Come on, Q. Lay down. It's okay" she hummed, laying her friend down gently and tucking her in. Finally feeling like she could breathe, Santana let out a sigh of relief. She rested her hands on her hips for a moment, looking down at Quinn whose eyes were now open and red with tears. "Good night, Quinn" San said exasperatedly, turning on one foot to leave. She couldn't help stopping in the doorway to take one last look at her broken friend.

Quinn Fabray:

Quinn Fabray had been tested and knocked down a few pegs in her past, but she had officially reached rock bottom. She had fallen into a hole so deep she couldn’t even dream of ever escaping. This was her life now, and she had no choice in the matter. If Quinn was ever to be certain of something in her life, it was that she would never be the same again. She would never be whole, because a part of her (the most important part, she’d argue) was taken away from her. And, as if it couldn’t get any worse, she had been a huge part of the accident. What seemed like seconds had passed before Quinn was out of the bar and being tucked into her bed. /Her/ bed, the bed that had kept her feeling the most lonely at nights. But, tonight, she couldn’t be alone. She had been alone for six months, and she couldn’t do it once more. “Don’t go,” She pleaded, her eyes a mixture of remorse and longing. “Please.”

Santana Lopez:

The two made eye contact when Santana turned around, and the brunette hadn't been expecting that. She assumed that Quinn would've turned around by now or at least closed her eyes. Keeping them open meant accepting what had just happened. Keeping them open meant she was acknowledging that she was at what might've been the lowest point in her life. San thought she was hallucinating when she heard the words 'Don't go.' That was why she hadn't said anything in response. However, when she heard the word 'please,' San's jaws dropped in shock. "Yeah, okay," she responded quickly, not having to think twice. Kicking off her shoes, Santana hesitantly crawled into bed next to Quinn, getting underneath the blankets that were already warm from Quinn's body. S then snaked an arm around the blonde platonically, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm here," she whispered, her promise lingering in the air as they both drifted off into sleep.

[just--wanky]

GET OUT → QUINN FABRAY

TAGGING → Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez

LOCATION → Quinn's apartment

TIME FRAME → Flash-back to early December

GENERAL NOTES → Santana tries one last time to get Quinn out of bed after Alex's death. Warning: a shit ton of angst beyond this point.

It had been five months since San received that call from Quinn. Five months since the blonde lost the love of her life, which meant it had been five months since Santana felt like she lost Quinn. Grieving is a process, Santana always understood that. She'd gone through the whole thing herself after her break-up with Brittany. Of course the circumstances were different, but at the end of the day they had both lost a piece of themselves and San was determined not to let her best friend suffer as much as she had. Santana wasted years being upset over Brittany, and if she could help it, Quinn wouldn't go through life the same way. That’s why, despite Quinn’s initial protests, the two had made plans to go for a walk in Central Park. The Latina was convinced the fresh air would do her friend good. So, after getting ready and shooting Q a text, San began her journey to the blonde’s place. She made it there in no time, and once she made it past the main entrance of the building and to Quinn’s front door, she knocked lightly and waited for a response.

Quinn Fabray:

It had been five months since the night that changed Quinn’s life forever. It had been five months since she felt like herself, since she had somewhat of a smile placed on her lips. It had been five months since she opened up to someone, and let them see her in this condition. The one where she barely left her couch all day and alternated between sleeping and crying to the point where she felt like she couldn't open her eyes due to the puffiness. She had never felt so broken inside, and Quinn couldn't even begin to imagine when the pieces were going to be put together again. If she was being honest, she knew that it would probably never happen. She was okay with that, though. Her room had become her safe haven; it was the one place where she could feel both alone and safe at the same time. Just as she began to drift off to sleep again, a loud knock on her door forced Quinn back into reality. Who the hell was there? A wave of anxiety ran through her body as she remembered she had agreed to go on a walk around the city with Santana. Pulling the covers up over her head, Quinn let out a sigh and raised her voice. “Come in, it’s open!”

Santana Lopez:

Santana heard no movement behind the door where she stood. "Quinn?" San called out, and just as she was about to knock again she heard a muffled voice in the distance. With a shrug, San then turned the knob and as promised, the door opened. The place was a mess. There were old take-out boxes and clothes scattered around the house, and whether any of it was sanitary was beyond San's realm of knowledge. With her jaws discreetly dropped at the sight, the brunette shut the door behind her and slowly walked through the apartment, taking in the scene. "Quinn?" San called out again, peering through the doors in the hall before she finally reached the bedroom. Pushing the door open, San immediately noticed the lump of a body buried deeply in the bed sheets. With a sigh, S leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms. "Come on, Q. It's time to get up" she said, her voice as sincere as she could make it. It didn't seem to her like the blonde was going to move, so after a moment Santana walked over to her and sat on the edge of her bed. "Fabray" San sang, shaking her friend a bit as she began to pull the covers away, "We have shit to do today" she reminded her, finally pulling the covers enough so that her friend's face was no longer concealed.

Quinn Fabray:

Ever since the moment the drunk driver rammed into Alex's side of the car, Quinn's life came to a complete stop and changed forever. The days after his death went by too quickly, the funeral and wake just distant memories she was barely holding onto by a thread. She had glimpses of herself surrounded by her parents, his parents, and...Santana. The only steady thing in her life since she moved to New York from New Haven. A few seconds after the happy couple stepped foot into their new apartment, Santana showed up with a box of pizza and two helping hands to get their unboxing started. From then on, Quinn knew that Santana was once again a permanent fixture in her life. So when the funeral and wake approached, it was no surprise that Santana was the one that was by her side throughout the whole thing, no matter how much Quinn protested. Which is why it wasn’t entirely surprising that Santana was the one who stepped up to be the person to get Quinn back into a normal routine of things. However, she’d have to wait for another day to start, because Quinn wasn’t having any of it today. “Stop it,” She grunted, her eyes closing in hopes of the girl giving up and leaving. “I’m not going today, Santana, so don’t bother.”

Santana Lopez:

Quinn finally spoke, but she didn't say what Santana wanted to hear. Rolling her eyes, San got comfortable on the bed. "That's what you said last time!" she argued, shaking her friend relentlessly until she had to open her eyes. It didn't take long for Santana to realize that Quinn was not fucking around. She wasn't up for it, fine, but San was getting sick of it. "How much longer are we going to do this, Q?" the brunette finally asked after a moment of silence, her voice soft and poised. "I get it, okay? I've been here this whole time, I know it's hard. But sooner or later you have to get up. You're never going to get better like this" she explained, her hand resting comfortingly on Q's arm.

Quinn Fabray:

As if a natural reaction, anger boiled through Quinn almost immediately upon Santana’s words hitting her. “Stop.” She warned, her eyes growing dark with rage and remorse. “You don’t know the first thing about how hard this is, Santana.” She wagered, her tone tight and rigid. “I get that you’ve been here for me and all, but at the end of the day, you get to go home and not have to deal with this. I live in it, Santana.” Quinn knew she wasn’t being reasonable, but it wasn’t fair for everyone to expect so much out of her all the time. Why couldn’t they just let her be? It was always something – someone wanting to pick her up for a dinner or a movie, someone wanting her to come spend a couple days with them, someone telling her how she should be moving on already. They didn’t understand, and Quinn wasn’t about to start listening now.

Santana Lopez:

The tone Quinn took with Santana felt like a slap in the face, and everyone knew Q was a genius slapper. The brunette shrunk in her spot, the initial shock of her friend's response making her falter. However, if there was one thing Santana was good at, it was bouncing back. "Are you kidding me?" she replied, her voice oozing with doubt and resentment. "You don't get to talk down to me like I don't understand what you're going through, okay? I lost someone, too" San reminded her, crossing her arms over her chest defensively as she straightened out her posture, regaining her tough exterior. "You think I don't know how hard it is to know that the love of your life isn't there anymore? That despite how much you want to be with them, you can't? Because I do know a thing or two about that" San snapped, her volume unintentionally rising as her mind wandered back to Brittany. "It's time to get up. Fake it till you make it" she said, standing up herself as she ripped the blankets off of her friend's body.

Quinn Fabray:

Quinn recoiled fast, almost surprised by how quickly Santana flipped her switch. Almost. She knew the buttons she had to push to send Santana over the ledge, and vise versa. Which is why Santana reacted like she did. Of course she was going to be upset with Quinn, especially after Quinn attacked her like that, but the least the Latina could do was give her a free pass. However, that didn’t seem likely with the way the covers were ripped off Quinn like she was on fire and they were the flames. “Fake it till you make it?” Quinn mimicked, the anger coursing through her veins. “Just like you did with Brittany, right Santana? Bullshit. Don’t act like you don’t miss her and like you don’t cry about her at night, because we both know you do.”

Santana Lopez:

Santana stared her friend down as she laid there stripped of her safety blanket, literally and figuratively. "Yeah, fake it till you make it" Santana started to repeat, but she was cut off by Q's next statement. The mention of Brittany's name out loud silenced her instantaneously. "Stop it" San pleaded after her first patronizing question, but the rage in Quinn's eyes made it clear that she had no intention of doing so. "Fuck you, Quinn" San blurted out, her filter gone. "You don't get to throw this back in my face. Brittany was my best friend and I fucked her up in more ways than one so when I cry, I'm not just crying because I miss her. I'm crying because that's my burden to bear. I made the person I loved so fucking miserable that they needed an escape that almost killed them. I'm allowed to cry about that. You and Alex, on the other hand, were happy and solid and you know that he's rolling in his grave because of the way you're dealing with this. This is the last thing he'd want for you" San huffed, her hands balled up in fists at her sides while her shoulders moved up and down due to her newly heavy breathing.

Quinn Fabray:

“You don’t….” Quinn started, her breath inconsistent and heavy. “You don’t even understand. You had a secret relationship with your best friend all throughout high school.” She knew that she wasn’t being fair throwing this back into Santana’s face, but she was so damn tired of people stumbling around the truth. For once, she was beyond happy to be able to say exactly what was on her mind. “Alex and I were different. We were going to get married in the Spring. We were going to buy a house and have kids. We had plans, Santana. We were permanent.” She choked on those last words, all of the emotions she had kept bottled up hitting her all at once. “I get that you almost killed Brittany and you’re still fucked up over it, but this is different.” The tears began to roll from Quinn’s eyes, but she didn’t dare to reach up and wipe them off. “I killed him, Santana. I’m the reason he’s gone right now. Me. Don’t you get that?” She paused, the sobs uncontrollably ripping through her chest. She took in a short, quick breath, and ushered out the last the three words between her sobs. “I killed him.” A few minutes passed and before Quinn was going to let Santana get a word in edge-wise, she raised her eyes to meet the girl’s. “So fuck me for not wanting anyone’s help, especially yours.”

Santana Lopez:

The way Q talked about her relationship with Brittany and downgraded it to a stupid high school affair that was never meant to last made Santana's blood boil in her veins. "How dare you" she started saying, but before she could really get into it, Quinn was choking on her words. "What, I --" Santana's mind was going a hundred miles a minute as she tried to digest everything her friend was dumping on her. 'I get that you almost killed Brittany' the words hung in the air for probably longer than Quinn intended them to. Everybody knew it was true, but no one ever had the balls to say it to Santana's face. To agree with her when she said it. She felt her eyes sting with hot, angry tears as Q kept going, but she wasn't going sob like her friend was. She refused to break down like that in front of the person who was trying to hard to make her weak. "That's bullshit" Santana finally said, shaking her head. "You had a fucking accident. Some drunk cow slammed into you when you missed a damn stop sign. Brittany had a drug problem for years because I was too fucking chicken to come out. You made a fucking mistake while I actively hurt her for years. Stop fucking saying you killed Alex, that's trash. Stop feeling sorry for yourself for something you couldn't help. Just get the fuck up" Santana demanded this time, the situation suddenly getting personal. It's like not only was she urging Quinn to move on, but she was also urging herself. Before she could think it through, she reached out to Quinn and yanked her out of her bed, making her stand whether she liked it or not.

Quinn Fabray:

If Quinn wasn’t angry before, she certainly was now. Santana didn’t understand what happened that night, and she never would. Hell, she hadn’t even tried. She didn’t understand that she was ultimately at fault because she was the one that ran the stop light. Because, she was too distracted to pay attention to what was going on. As far as Quinn was concerned, Santana was a scared little bitch. Brittany was still alive, and Santana could go back to her anytime she wanted. Quinn didn’t have that luxury, and she certainly wasn’t happy to be reminded of it by someone like Santana. After being pulled out of her bed, Quinn positioned herself evenly on both feet, her anger taking over her to the point where she could practically see red. Since they were already taking a wonderful stroll down memory lane, Quinn took it one step farther. Raising her right hand, she quickly made contact with Santana’s cheek. The sound lingered in the air a couple seconds later, and the only other thing happening was the eye contact between the two of them. “Get. Out.” Quinn seethed, holding the door open for the girl.

Santana Lopez:

Santana was buffing herself up just as much as Quinn, her nose in the air as she filled her chest with bravado and pride. There was not a chance in hell that she was going to let Quinn walk all over her and make her problems seem less significant or less painful than her own. Sure, Brittany was still alive, but it's not like she had a place in Santana's life. It was almost like she was dead, and no, maybe that didn't compare to the real thing but Santana was sick of Quinn carrying this unnecessary guilt around everywhere she went. As far as San was concerned, getting her out of bed would help her see that. She was trying to help in the only way she knew how. Just as she was about to explain, surprise nearly knocked the wind out of her. She didn't immediately register what happened, but once she did her jaws dropped and she glued her eyes to Quinn's. Anger loomed around her hues as she stared Quinn down, having to fight every urge in her body to rub down her cheek and soothe the unwavering sting. 'Get. Out.' The words filled the entire room. Santana remained quiet. With one last controlled breath, she shook her head and turned around to leave. However, the minute she reached the doorway, she paused. Without looking back at Quinn, she said the one thing she knew the blonde would hate to hear. "I feel sorry for you." Leaving all of her pity in the room, Santana then closed the door and left the building and her friendship with Quinn behind.

[thenewyorktimes-wayn-blog]

PARK AUTO BODY

Park Auto Body is one of New York’s most reliable auto body & repair shops. If there’s anything wrong with your vehicle, this is the place to go. 

Currently, Finn Hudson is employed as a mechanic here. Quinn Fabray is employed as a secretary.