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"Can I come in?"
Dave looked up from the wall he'd been staring at to find Santana Lopez standing in the doorway with a stuffed teddy bear in hand. He looked at her, almost surprised to see her standing there. She looked nervous, almost scared. It was as vulnerable as he had ever seen Santana, really. She always had such a confident look on her face, even when Dave knew that she was terrified. He nodded and she walked into the room. She looked at him for a long moment.
"When I heard, I was so freaked out," she admitted, with a softness that sounded foreign on her. She handed him the stuffed bear. He took it, not sure what exactly he was supposed to do with it. "I…I didn't know you felt that way, you know?" Dave caught the look in her eyes. It was exactly the same look that Kurt had given him. It was the same look his father now wore all day long. Santana felt guilty. She felt that she could have done something.
"I didn't either," he admitted, shrugging. He was a lot more open in the last few days, but that was because he had psychologists coming at him from every angle, trying to get him to open up and find out why he did what he did. "I felt good for awhile, confident, until it got out to everyone. It doesn't matter now, though, okay? So don't worry about it...yeah, just don't worry about it."
She sighed then, a deep sigh. She pulled a chair up to his bedside and looked him in the eye. "I can't say I know how you felt, or feel," she mumbled, "but when my abuela decided that…my liking girls was enough for her to throw me out of her life, I knew a dark place too David. I want to help you okay?"
"We were barely friends when we went out, Santana," he said. He didn't want the fact that he'd tried to off himself to change anything. He didn't want his mother to suddenly stop being homophobic or people to suddenly sympathize with him. He didn't want friendships out of pity.
"I know and I suck for that," she said. She sighed and looked at him. "I...I looked at those words Dave and I…I plan on kicking a couple of asses before this week is done. I…I know that you didn't go to me when it was happening, but I'm here for you now, okay?"
He looked at her and then he felt the sudden inspiration to speak. "When she kicked you out of her life," he mumbled, "didn't you just feel like giving up? My mom found out, because of rumors, not even because I told her. She asked me if they were true, I said yes and s-she…she said I had a disease." He spat out the words, his stomach clenching at them. He had barely looked his mother in the eye since his father found him. He would never be able to get her words out of his head. "That was the last straw. I couldn't take losing my friends, my life and then my mother."
He saw the tears form in her eyes. She reached over and took his hand. "I just knew that I couldn't give up…" she whispered."David, I am so sorry about your mother. My parents have tried so hard to be supportive of me and I would…like die if they didn't." She caught her words and her face changed. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
Dave shook his head. "Seriously, its okay," he said, not really sure how to deal with the softer side of Santana Lopez or all of his emotions. "I'm not going to break, Santana." He watched as she cried and he felt the tears come back. "It was, so…so bad, but I've broken as far as I can break, I promise."
She looked at him for a long time. "You lived what I was afraid of happening to me," she said, as if that realization was just dawning on her. Dave knew what happened with her and how she was forcibly outed as well. It hadn't caused her hell though, not like it did him. Maybe McKinley had actually kicked its own ass back into gear about bullying, or maybe that was just what happened when you were confident, hot, and female. "I got a couple of dyke jokes but…nothing as terrible as what they were saying to you. It's not fair. You're a good person, Dave and I'm a bitch."
He looked at her and sighed. "Yes, you are a bitch," he said, cracking a faint smile. He wasn't really that good at joking when it felt like he'd never have the energy to think or breathe again. "Luckily for you, you're a likeable bitch. I don't know why things went the way they did for me. Part of me can't help but feel like its karma, you know? You'd never screw with someone for being gay, even if you were a bitch…"
"Not true," she said, "but I swear to God, David, if you're even beginning to think you were bullied because you messed with Kurt in some silly karma thing…don't you forget what you and I did."
"It was a lie, Santana," he mumbled, looking up at her. He had always assumed that the Bully Whips was just Santana's attempt at ensuring her own popularity. He couldn't believe that she legitimately cared about what they did. "You did it so that you could get the Prom Queen title."
"I blackmailed you, threatening to out you, which was something I'd never do," she blurted out. Then she sighed and grabbed his hand tightly. He could feel that she was going to start crying again. "We helped a lot of people David, even if only for awhile, right?"
She inhaled and then seemed to suck back her tears as much as she could. She reached into her purse. "I brought you a present," she said.
"Isn't he present enough?" Dave asked, looking to the teddy bear that he was now awkwardly resting against his side. He had his fill of teddy bears and flowers and get well cards, but still the thing was cute.
"This is better," she said, pulling out a walkie-talkie. "This belonged to you once upon a time, you know?" She handed it to him and he turned it around in his hands. It definitely brought back memories of the halls of McKinley high school. "I hang around your neighborhood all the time. We can use them again."
Dave didn't even mention that as close as she hung out to his neighborhood, the devices would probably be out of each other's range. He knew it was the gesture that counted and it honestly brought tears to his eyes, not that he wanted to cry in front of her. He wiped his eyes as discreetly as he could possibly manage, before looking over at her. She smiled at him and he swore he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes too. "I'll still forget to say over," he said, a lame attempt as a joke. He switched the device on.
She pulled hers out, waving it around and cracking a small smile before speaking. "I'm so glad you're alive Dave," she said into the walkie-talkie. "Over."
He bit his lip and yeah, no amount of stoic determination could stop him from tearing up at that. All he wanted was for someone to really, genuinely care whether he lived or died. He wanted a friend more than anything in the world. Apparently, he'd already had one. "Thank you Santana," he said back into the walkie. He gave her what he hoped was a look that conveyed the full extent of his gratitude. "Over."