Pezberry Day 3- Camping Trip
*0*0*
Looking Out for Broadway
*0*0*
Rachel should have known things weren't going to go smoothly when she saw the pamphlet slide across the table towards her. Her fathers had sat her down, with her manager and agent, to have a serious talk about her recent actions. Things had not been as bad as they thought, and despite how many times she said as much, they continued to talk over her. She really thought she would be able to get another slap on the wrist and move on from this, but that damn pamphlet had made an appearance.
McKinley Academy Rehabilitation and Outreach Centre.
No. Just no.
"I'm not going," Rachel said immediately, shaking her head, to the exasperated sighs of everyone else in the room.
Sadly for her, she was still seventeen, and her fathers were pulling rank. She was going, no matter what. She needed to clean herself up, change her image, and come back from this well rested and tidy so she could live the rest of her life healthy and happy. Utter crock, but she couldn't argue anymore. She had screamed and shouted and sobbed until she knew it was over, she was going. No diva tantrum and storm out were going to get her off the hook this time.
So the next morning, when her dads made the drive upstate New York, her bags in the trunk and her headphones making conversation impossible, she knew she was going to have to suck this up. There was no escape, unless she planned on opening the car door at some point between then and their destination and jumping for it, but that might be a bit dramatic, even for her.
On arrival at the facility's grounds several hours later, Rachel was too tired to actually care about her impending incarceration. The car journey had been about six and half hours, and she was exhausted from sitting there and huffing all day. One part of her wanted to be angry, because her fathers were going to spend the night in a hotel nearby before driving back in the morning, and rather than let her join them, they were deserting her with complete strangers, but she really just wanted to sleep.
The grounds were sparse, lots of open fields and trees, but it did eventually lead to rustic looking cabins, all screaming that 'homey' feeling but failing miserably. Rachel's brain was crying out for cotton sheets and comfortable pillows, but this place cried of sleeping bags and campfires. What the hell had her fathers signed her up for?
Before the car came to a complete stop, Rachel had grabbed the pamphlet she had been avoiding like the plague and flicked through to see the relevant information. One section was circled, and she paled upon reading it.
Allow your loved one's worries and fears, addictions and dependencies, to fly away in this one-week camping experience that teaches them how to work in teams, how to be independent, how to talk amongst others about their problems, and how to survive without the crutches they've relied on for so long. Each member will spend six nights out in the forest, with trained staff members, and learn about the world they live in and the life they hold within themselves. It is an eye-opening experience for all, and especially beneficial for those with anger management and authority issues.
One week, six nights in the wilderness, surrounded by addicts and psychopaths. Were her fathers having a fucking laugh?
Yes, she might have gone off the rails these last two years, and yes, the press was there to catalogue every aspect of it, but this was ridiculous, this was a complete overreaction. It wasn't like she was popping pills and hopping from bed to bed, she was just a little crazy at times, especially after that last Tony nomination, but it really was nothing to worry about. This was not where she needed to be.
The car came to a stop on the gravel with a crunch, and Rachel sat paralysed in the backseats. This was actually happening. They were actually doing this to her. She couldn't stop it. She couldn't escape.
"Welcome, Leroy, Hiram, welcome!" a man greeted, practically running out of the main cabin in front of the vehicle, his voice booming and penetrating Rachel's safe bubble inside the car. If she just didn't get out, then they couldn't leave her. "I'm William Schuester, we spoke on the phone."
Feeling sick to her stomach and a little lightheaded, Rachel tried to calm her racing heart and block out what they were discussing outside, but it was useless. William Fucking Schuester was still talking about how excited they were for their arrival and that the others all wanted to meet her and no. She wasn't ready, she couldn't do this. She didn't deserve this.
The passenger door opening had her looking round in terror, but she relaxed slightly at the sight of her daddy's calm eyes and soft smile. It wasn't enough to calm her nerves and fears, but it did help to some degree.
"You have to get out the car, Rach," he said almost amusedly, but there was no humour to be had about this situation. Couldn't he see she was distressed? Couldn't he see she was terrified?
"Please, daddy, please don't do this. I'll be good, I'll behave, please don't leave me here," she begged, scurrying backwards to the other side of the car in case he tried to reach in for her.
"You need the help, sweetheart. We'll be back in a week. We promise." No, no promise was good enough. It wasn't enough.
"No, no, please, daddy," she pleaded, needing him to change his mind. If she just broke his resolve this whole mess would be over.
It didn't happen.
He shook his head, and stepped back, reaching for his husband's hand for support in this decision. She was on her own. They weren't going to help her, they weren't going to save her from this, and William Fucking Schuester was smiling at her like that would help.
"Come on, get out the car and we'll get you signed in."
A part of her wanted to scream and shout and physically fight them, but if she did that, they really would think she was destined to be there, and that was just wrong. If she went in, without a tantrum, maybe they'd see how wrong they were and change their minds. Yes, good idea, Rachel. That was definitely worth a shot.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she opened the door and slipped out the car, hating the slight drop she had thanks to her height, and wiped down her clothes. They were all watching her carefully, clearly expecting a tantrum and diva fit, but she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. If there was one thing Rachel liked to do, it was prove people wrong.
Heading to the trunk to grab her things, her daddies ushered her away and grabbed them instead, letting her walk towards the cabin with Will. His creepy smile and keen eyes had her adding more distance between them as they began to head inside, and with each step, the fear grew and grew.
Being inside the cabin made no difference. Despite it looking for that outdoor wilderness aspect, inside it felt like a hospital. She actually was convinced she'd walked into some dream, the way the change happened. Outside was all wood and warmth, inside was cold white walls, linoleum floors, harsh lights. Now she felt worse, felt so sick she was looking round for a bin, and dizzy from the fear.
Will was talking about God only knows what, and her fathers were nodding along, smiling happily. All she could hear was buzzing in her ears and see spots in front of her eyes. Someone else walked into the reception to join them, but Rachel couldn't see who, only the haze of a red t-shirt swirling in her sight before she hit the floor.
Even her collapsing didn't get her out of there.
Once her fathers, Will, and a Dr. Holiday were satisfied that Rachel was actually okay, they had her sit in the waiting room, which thankfully did look like it belonged in a cabin, and went to fill out more forms. She was left holding a glass of water, eyes shut, trying hard to block it all out.
This had to be the worst thing her fathers had ever done to her, and she was never going to forgive them for this. Her behaviour didn't demand this type of help. She wasn't insane. She wasn't a harm to herself. She wasn't suicidal. She didn't need to be locked up. And right then and there, she wanted to break down and cry.
But, as her father's car pulled away, the red taillights finally falling out of sight behind the trees, Rachel used all her acting abilities to keep herself composed. She couldn't fall to pieces or they'd probably sedate her, and she was not having that.
*0*0*
Will and Dr. Holiday left her sitting in the waiting room by herself for some time, and while she had expected to see them again, she was thankful they weren't bothering her. She needed time to her thoughts, to work out what she was going to do. Apparently she was going camping with some therapy involved in there, didn't that sound swell.
She had never felt so alone.
Rolling her eyes at this mess, Rachel missed the arrival of another girl coming into the room. The red t-shirt was back, and as her vision wasn't spinning, she could read what was written on it this time. M.A.R.O.C was in big bold white letters over the centre's logo, and beneath that the word 'Volunteer' was stamped. So she was staff, and that was enough for instant dismissal of her in Rachel's eyes.
The girl wandered over lazily, a clipboard in hand, looking rather pissed off, with an angry scowl on her face and a flick of her tongue across her bottom lip. Rachel tried hard not to stare at the latter, shuffling in her seat and ignoring the girls approach, but it was hard.
"What's your name?" she asked, coming to a stop several feet from Rachel.
Given how she was in such an emotional state, Rachel decided against answering. She didn't want to be there, so she wasn't going to make it easy for them. Her plan had been to get her fathers to see how mature she was, and that had failed. So really, what was the point of trying?
"Alright then, where you from?" the girl asked, her tone becoming sharper. Rachel gave her a blank expression before looking away, and didn't miss the dramatic eye roll she earned. "What's your poison?" That had Rachel frowning. "Coke, weed, heroin, meth, or are you a drinker? Vodka, rum, gin, tequila…hmm, so not a drinker or on drugs, good," the girl rattled on, reading Rachel's expressions, which she fought hard to change. "That must mean you've got some anger issues, pissed off at the world, huh?" There was a hint of amusement in the girl's voice, and Rachel swallowed, uncomfortable. "Ever hit someone? Knocked someone about? Felt like they deserved it? Needed to kick someone's ass because life is just so unfair and no one loves you and if only mommy did-"
"Shut the fuck up!" Rachel spat, rising from the chair, coming toe to toe with her.
"So kitty has claws after all," she drawled, smirking sinfully. Amusement danced in her eyes, and she looked completely unfazed by Rachel's approach. Clearly she wasn't scared of her, and there wasn't a hint of the girl backing down.
"Santana!" Will barked from outside the door, frowning at the volunteer with annoyance. Dr. Holiday wandered over with a chuckle and rubbed his arm, telling him something that lessened his anger, but her words had Rachel curious.
"What she say to him?" she asked, looking up to see the girl, Santana apparently, watching the scene with a slight frown.
"I'll answer your question if you answer mine," Santana answered, turning back while shrugging one shoulder. Rachel wanted to roll her eyes but nodded instead as she took her seat again. "Great, so your name?"
"Rachel Berry," she said clearly, sitting up a little in the chair, not really happy with Santana looming over her.
"My condolences," Santana muttered, shaking her head. Rachel shot her a glare but she was too busy ticking things off things on the clipboard to notice. "Okay, Broadway, follow me," she finally said, walking away without looking back to see if Rachel would follow.
"What about my question?"
"Your question?" Santana played innocent, increasing her speed through the hallways, making Rachel rush to keep up.
"What did Dr. Holiday say to Will to get him to back off?" Santana had been out of line with her words, that Rachel was sure of, so why had Dr. Holiday laughed at his response to it? What was going on?
"How do I know? I didn't hear her," Santana answered, shooting Rachel an annoyed look.
"But you said you'd answer me if I answered you," she protested.
"And I did answer you, Broadway, you just didn't like my answer. Now, here's a list of everything you'll need, storage room is that way. Follow the list exactly, take it all to your room and I'll come and help you pack it up properly," Santana explained, winding them through the halls of the place. It was actually a lot bigger on the inside than it looked.
"I don't need your help, I can do it myself," the words were out of Rachel's mouth before she could even think, and Santana had stopped in the corridor just as fast.
"Fine," she began, turning to face her with one eyebrow raised. "You'll be woken at eight tomorrow morning, we'll be leaving at nine thirty. Make sure you ask the staff in the cafeteria for your breakfast as there are options put aside for you. Oh, and you'll need to talk to Holly tonight to get the essentials for your pack, and seeing as you don't need my help I'm sure you can find her office all on your own. Night, Broadway," she chimed, a smirk on her face as she headed off in the other direction, leaving Rachel there.
"Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Rachel, Rachel Berry. And who is Holly?" she called, suddenly realising that she might need help but not being willing to admit as much, especially not to Santana.
Santana didn't even turn round at Rachel's questions, just chuckled while shaking her head, her footsteps carrying her further and further away. Standing there, alone, with the list in one hand and no signs up on the wall to tell her where she was going, Rachel knew she should have just kept her mouth shut. She didn't even know where her room was to take all these things back to once she fetched them.
It was going to be a long night, and it was entirely her fault. She really needed to learn.
*0*0*
It took Rachel a good part of an hour to get everything she needed from the storage room, and she had to pack it in there as she still needed to find her room. That wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. She ran into another girl, this one without the red volunteer shit, coming out of the bathroom, and after introductions, Marley was kind enough to show her where she'd likely be staying.
Right enough, after thanking Marley for her assistance, she found her welcome pack on the bed, and dumped her rucksack on the floor. Marley had vanished, and Rachel should have asked about who the heck Holly was, so that was her next mission. She knew if she didn't turn up, she'd get hell for it tomorrow, and that wasn't a fate she wanted. So, after giving the bed, which didn't look dreadful, a longing look, she went on her search.
It turned out that Holly was actually Dr. Holiday, and she had only worked this out by ending creeping into Will's empty office and snooping at the cards he hand on his shelves. A lot of, dear Will and Holly, surrounded by pictures of him and Dr. Holiday, so the math made sense. That was half the battle, however, because she still needed to locate the woman's office, and that was much harder.
What she had once called a cabin was an absolute lie. This place was like a hospital, but the easy looking front was there to lead one into a false sense of security. It went on and on, room after room, and to be honest, she was surprised there wasn't more staff kicking about.
When Rachel finally found Dr. Holiday's office, a part of her dreaded knocking on the door and heading in. She assumed there would be some lengthy conversation about her issues and that was not what she wanted at this point in time. She was exhausted and wanted to sleep, that was all. That was all she hoped for.
Knocking once, and hearing a reply, she opened the door cautiously and stepped into the room.
"God, Broadway, you suck," Santana said, startling Rachel as she closed the door behind her. "I had five bucks on you not showing up and look at you disappointing me," she drawled, rooting around in her pocket.
A five dollar bill was then handed to Dr. Holiday, who was sitting behind her desk with a bright smile in place and a small cardboard box next to her with Rachel's name scribbled on the side. This office was unlike Will's in that the place didn't look too much like an office at all. He had gone for the serious look to his, all about caring and helping, whereas Holly had gone for comfort. Or at least, the couch Santana was sprawled over looked comfortable.
"Hi, Rachel. Ignore this one and come on in. Here's some of your food for the camping trip. We do have several stop offs in the area where we'll be able to get fresh fruit and things like that, but this meets all your dietary requirements and are light enough to carry."
"Thank you, Dr. Holiday. Thank you," she answered, accepting the box in her hands and stepping back from the desk.
Santana frowned and shot her a confused look, one she didn't understand, and she shuffled on her feet, wondering if she could leave. Dr. Holiday was also giving her a pensive look, and being under both of their gazes was rather unnerving.
"You're a weird one, Broadway, but you're going to be fun to crack," Santana said, breaking the silence.
"Play nice, Santana," Dr. Holiday murmured with a chuckle.
"Yeah, yeah. Alright, Broadway, let's get you to bed." Santana was up off the couch before Rachel could protest, and with quick goodbyes, both of them were heading back through the hallways.
Santana didn't say anything as she showed Rachel to her room, but she did smirk at the sight of Rachel's rucksack fully packed. Shaking her head, she pointed to the box of food in Rachel's hands and shrugged, as if to say, where is this going. Rachel wanted to scream at that. She needed to repack her rucksack, but every muscle in her body was begging for sleep.
"God, don't cry, Broadway. It's not that hard. Come on, I'll help. Unless you don't want me to?" Santana had already grabbed her bag when she asked, and Rachel decided it best not to say anything. She wanted her help, and didn't dare want to risk scaring her away with whatever words might fall out of her mouth.
With Santana's assistance, the rucksack was repacked in no time at all, and the girl left Rachel to her bed with a salute. Fetching her pyjamas she had left out from her own bags, once changed into them, she crawled into bed and finally let the tears of today spill over.
This was a nightmare, and tomorrow was going to be even worse.
*0*0*
The sun was out, shining down on the group of twelve as they trekked forwards for the day. Just like Santana had said, Rachel was woken at eight and by nine thirty all of them were out the door and on their way. She hadn't actually been introduced, and all the other girls seemed to know each other, so she opted to keep to herself. However, she did get to meet the other staff member joining them on this six day nightmare.
Dr. Holliday, or Holly as she asked to be called, was head of them all, and then there was Grace Hitchens. Rachel wasn't quite sure what her role was, but the woman had a strong rapport with several of the girls and was kind enough that Rachel didn't feel intimidated. Last for the staff group was Santana, who as Holly had mentioned, was a volunteer but still was to be treated with the utmost respect.
The eight other girls on the hike aside from Rachel also knew Santana rather well by the looks of things, and for the first three hours on their walk into the woods, she hung back to listen to the lot of them chatter. It was probably better she didn't speak to them, anyway. She needed to keep her head down, and making friends was not part of that.
Content to just admire the woods around them, Rachel had time to think as she walked near the back of the group. Miss Hitchens was leading, with Holly at the rear, and the girls were laughing and joking about, still in good spirits. They actually seemed happy about this trip, which had Rachel frowning. She felt like she was missing something obvious, but ignored it, instead focussing on everything on her mind.
Soon, footsteps fell in line with hers, and with a glance to her right, she saw Santana, acting as if her walking with Rachel was nothing. Given that the girl hadn't said anything, Rachel opted not to say anything either. Santana would say what she wanted eventually, Rachel just had to wait her out. And wait her out she did.
"So what'd you do to get sent here?" Santana asked some time later, shrugging her shoulder as she pretended to act casual. It had Rachel smiling shyly and she decided to humour the other girl by answering. Though, her answer certainly wiped the smile off her face.
"I broke a cameraman's cheekbone and nose."
"Shit, Broadway, didn't know you had it in you," Santana said, chuckling and looking impressed, which was something that just didn't sit well with Rachel one bit.
"It's not…It's not how it sounds. I went to hit someone, not the cameraman but someone standing next to him, and missed. I punched his camera instead, breaking his nose and tripping him over, where he fell and broke his cheek on the sidewalk. It's really, really not how it sounds." Rachel actually felt shame for that particular incident; she never meant to hurt that man. If her intended target had sustained those injuries, however, she probably wouldn't give a damn. Okay, so maybe she had some issues she needed to work out.
"Yeah, that's way less impressive. Don't tell people the second part."
"Wasn't really planning on telling many people any part of it," she muttered, biting her bottom lip, feeling Santana's gaze on her.
"You get hurt?"
"Only a few cuts and bruises on my knuckles. Nothing near as bad as him." She kinda wish she had gotten hurt properly, at least then she would have had to endure some pain, too. She certainly deserved that.
"How come that hasn't hit the papers yet?" Santana wondered, and aside from Rachel's new nickname, that was the first anyone had mentioned of her life in the limelight.
"It will, but we're trying to come to an amicable agreement first." Santana snorted and shook her head.
"In other words, you're settling rather than going to court, and probably giving this guy shit loads of cash."
"Something like that." She wasn't involved in the discussion, so really didn't have the details.
Rachel expected Santana to ask more, but instead, the two of them just spent the rest of the afternoon following those in front. Santana occasionally made some remark about something, which amused Rachel to no end, but it was free from the heavy topics of before.
By mid-afternoon, they had arrived at their first camping site for the night. There was one small outhouse located in the clearing, which Rachel couldn't have been more thankful for, and Holly wasted no time in allocating sleeping areas off. They had enough tents that sharing wasn't necessary, but as Rachel found out, a lot of the girls elected to share with their friends.
Since she didn't want to get in the way, Rachel moved to the one area none of the other girls had selected, quite content to sleep on her own. A heavy rucksack landing next to her feet, though, told her otherwise, and Santana dropped down onto the ground with a sigh. She started getting her tent out, too, but it was clear; Rachel wouldn't be separated from the group, no matter what, even if she wanted to.
With the tents up, and everyone settling in, Holly having given them time to take it easy after the walk and before starting dinner, Rachel found herself sitting in the door of her tent, just watching everyone else interact. The loneliness she was used to was sinking in, constantly cut off from everyone else, being different and being treated as such, and she tucked her hair behind her ears and averted her eyes to push the memories of home-schooling, no friends, no shopping buddies unless she was paying, and all other aspects she'd rather forget about from her mind.
"Alright, let me give you the low down because these bitches will eat you and your spoilt little lifestyle apart," Santana declared, starling her as she pushed past Rachel and invaded her tent. She wanted to complain, but Santana had already tugged her inside to talk properly.
Rachel frowned, but thought it best to listen for now, and watched as Santana scouted round the camp to see if the others were listening. Content that they weren't, she nodded and began rattling off the details.
"So, over there, the girl who looks like she could crush you with her bare hands, that's Lauren Zizes. Bitch bites, so watch your back. Major anger management issues, but normally if you throw a candy bar her way, she's Zen as fuck. Next up, Kitty Wilde. She is a basket case, also, the anti-Christ. Now don't be fooled by her sweet, plastic exterior, girl is freaky as hell. I think she's got multiple personalities or something but I've not managed to break into Holly's filing cabinet yet to confirm it."
"Santana, you can't-" As volunteers went, she had to be one of the worst.
"Shush, I'm not done. These are the people you'll be hanging out with for the next week, sleeping near for the next week, in the woods, away from any lines of communication, so you'll damn well want to know this shit." Okay, she had a valid point and Rachel needed to shut her mouth.
"You're right, continue."
"Good. Blondie over there, that's my girl, Q, she's a fucking whack job but she's awesome," Santana stressed, nodding her head.
"That's not really helpful information." How was that going to stop Rachel from pissing the girl off?
"Just, I don't know, don't talk to her. She'd wipe the floor with you. Moving on, the girl sitting with Q is Mack. You don't even want to know, just…It's better you don't talk to her or Q. Alright?"
"Alright." It felt better to just nod along. All this was rather overwhelming.
"Mercedes is another diva like yourself. Big set of pipes on her, big attitude to go with it. If you can keep your ego in check, you shouldn't have a problem with her-"
"My ego? Santana-?!"
"Shut it, I'm still talking. The girl hanging with Miss Hutchins is Aphasia. I hope you have nothing valuable in your pack because girl is an excellent thief. She's kinda bitchy, and doesn't have an issue kicking your ass, so watch your smart mouth around her. Apparently, you already met Marley last night. She's sweet, and if you hurt her, I'll break you. Girl's fighting an eating disorder, and this is like a reward her being out here, so don't even think about being a bitch to her." Rachel opened her mouth to protest, but Santana's glare kept her quiet. "Last but not least is Sugar. She's certifiably insane but she's wicked so I don't really see you having a problem with her. She'll probably insult you, but she insults everyone, and she'll give you money, take it and give it me. Got it?"
"I'm not taking her money," Rachel protested, waving her hands out in front of her.
"No, you're not. I am," Santana chimed, causing Rachel to roll her eyes dramatically and then purposely ignore the small smirk on Santana's lips.
"Why are you helping me?" she asked, wondering what Santana had to get out of it. Yes, she was a volunteer so she was meant to help out, but Rachel was sure she wasn't meant to list off everyone's conditions and problems like that. She could have just told her to watch out for a few of them, she didn't have to go into as much detail.
"You're like a really tasty seal, all young and cute and shit, and they're the sharks, just waiting for you to get out on your own. They're going to eat you alive, and there's nothing you can do about it." That was rather frightening to hear. But, then again…
"Did you just call me a seal?" she asked bemusedly.
"Yeah, it's what sharks mainly eat." Santana shrugged her shoulder like it was nothing.
"So what are you in the analogy? Are you a seal too?" That had the girl frowning and shaking her head quickly.
"What? No. No. I'm…I'm not a seal," she barked, clearly affronted by such a suggestion. It was rather amusing.
"But they want me on my own, and with your help I won't be on my own, so surely that means you're a seal, too." Logic dictated that Santana was a seal. What was her problem?
"Stop talking," Santana snarled, moving to climb out of the tent, completely done with the conversation. Rachel, of course, followed her outside.
"It's okay, you can be a seal, too. We can be seals together," she said, grinning.
"It's shit like this that'll get you eaten," Santana growled, shooting her a glare as she began walking away. It wasn't nearly as scary as Rachel thought it would be.
"Euphemism or threat?" she joked cheekily, only to have Santana stop dead in her tracks.
"You have a five second head start before I ends you-!" she began, pointing wildly as she spoke.
Rachel couldn't help but cackled as she jogged away, ignoring the cries of Spanish curses being fired at her back, and revelling in how much fun it was to rile Santana up. Falling in line next to Marley, the girl chuckled at the outburst and asked what Rachel had done to deserve that, and for a change, Rachel didn't doubt the motives of someone asking her a question and rattled off, happy to have someone to talk to.
Santana was left smirking at the other side of the camp, watching the exchange quite happily.
*0*0*
That evening, Holly and Grace went over what was happening for the week, and they opened the discussion up so everyone could talk about what they'd liked and disliked so far. It was pretty easy to relax around them all after a while, and it only took a few hours before the others had deemed her acceptable.
Apparently, they had been expecting some high-strung diva who was going to be looking down her nose at them, and Rachel's demeanour was actually surprising. She decided not to add that she was like that most of the time, but out there, with nothing to lose, it didn't matter about keeping appearances up. For only being outside for one day, she certainly felt like some progress had been made.
Trust seemed to be a big part of the group's atmosphere, and it was clear some of them, although accepting of Rachel, didn't trust her one bit. When it was obvious the conversations were stalling thanks to her presence, she excused herself, and found the group's trusty volunteer tagging along with her.
Santana kicked her ass at cards that night, and according to her tally, Rachel now owed her two pairs of shoes and a new handbag. As if.
The following morning meant packing up their camp and moving onwards, and from all the exercise yesterday, Rachel could feel it in her muscles. Each step was accompanied by a hefty dose of pain and ache. She was grinning and bearing it, however, not wanting to dampen the good spirits of the others.
Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing. Holly and Santana did have to break up an altercation between Zizes and Sugar. The heat wasn't helping moods much, either, and as they walked through the woods, growing tired and hungry with each passing minute, people were getting terse with one another.
Rachel almost ended up on her ass from a shove by Mercedes because she was walking too slow, so began to hang back. She didn't retaliate, though it was clear Holly and Grace expected her to. Santana even looked impressed she didn't snap, probably remembering not two nights ago when Rachel went toe to toe with her over a flippant comment.
Honestly, she was too tired to fight, and there was no way she could scrap with her rucksack on. It was better to walk away, and Mercedes had to deal with a thorough talking to from the others given her reaction, so really, so it was the right move.
The hike continued on that afternoon, with no effort to stop until later, and Rachel had stopped trying to keep up. Broadway had kept her fit, but this was something else. She was not used to lugging round a rucksack, nor was she used to the pace. It wasn't long before someone else realised she was falling behind and moved to walk with her, though, which she was thankful of.
She gave Santana a thankful smile and received what looked like a genuine one in return as they powered on. Just the other girl's presence was enough for her to pick up her pace, to prove that she wasn't useless. It was silly to think like that, but that's how she felt, and the silent support from Santana helped.
Every so often, Holly would look over her shoulder to check they were still okay, and with a nod from Santana, she'd turn back and leave them to it. The other girl didn't even look phased with having to lag back with her. In typical Rachel fashion, however, she of course decided to test such a theory of Santana not minding by accidentally, and stupidly, tripping over a rock in the path.
"Shit," she cried, ending up on her hands and knees, scraping them on the ground, and biting her bottom lip to fight the pain her back endured from the rucksack jutting against her.
Her outcry had Holly's attention and Santana was quick to send them on, that she could take care of it. Holly didn't look convinced, but Rachel got to her feet, told them she was fine, and began walking again. They didn't push the issue, and as the path they were following bent out of sight, Rachel allowed her steps to slow the more they left view.
As soon as the last one was round the bend, Santana had pulled her to a stop.
"Alright, sit your ass down and let's take a look at these." She didn't get a chance to argue, and although she had planned on stopping, she was surprised by Santana's insistence.
The shorts she was wearing, standard issue from M.A.R.O.C's supply cupboard, were too long and went past her knees, partially hiding the grazes below. They weren't bad, but they stung, and once she was seated on her pack, Santana pulled out the small first aid kit to check her out.
"Sure you're safe with me?" she joked, despite there being no humour in her tired voice. "I could be crazy and this was just one ploy to get you alone." Santana snorted and shook her head as she worked.
"Oh please, if you had any serious issues you wouldn't be out here." She made quick work of finding the antiseptic wipes and getting to work on the grazes. Rachel winced at the sting and held her tongue, not wanting to curse over such a small wound.
"What do you mean I wouldn't be out here?" she asked instead, hoping the conversation would take her mind off the stinging and the blood Santana was wiping off her to apply the plasters.
"You're not a threat to yourself or anyone else, you're just hurting and need somewhere to deal with that. Typically, this little camping group is for those that have already gone through a three-month minimum stay with the counsellors and doctors on site. You didn't have to do any of that," Santana spoke, applying both plasters and then grabbing Rachel's hands to check the palms of them.
Her answer certainly made a lot of sense in regards to the other girls. That had to be why they were so close with each other. Also made sense why they were respectful to Holly, Grace, and even Santana. She must have been volunteering with them for a while.
"I don't have three months to give. I'm going to be starting a new workshop soon for a new musical in less than a month-" Rachel explained, wanting to make it clear why three months was off the table. She couldn't have been more thankful for that workshop, because if her dads had sent her there for three months, she wouldn't have coped. At least when she pulled up, she knew it was only a week. Thinking it was three months would have broken her.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. It's in your file," Santana replied, dismissing her with a wave of her hand as she packed up the first aid box.
"You read my file?" Rachel really shouldn't have been surprised.
"Of course I read your file. I'm sleeping three feet from you, I'm not going to do that if you're some crackpot." Her frown at Rachel's words was actually rather amusing to see, but Rachel still felt bad for having pulled Santana away from people she was clearly close with.
"You didn't have to sleep-"
"You weren't sleeping by yourself. Not only is it against the rules, but you're part of this group whether you want to be or not. So, chill out. It wasn't a big deal." Santana's tone left no room for argument, and she nodded.
Rachel expected Santana to look away, but it didn't happen. Her eyes bore straight into her, looking at every expression moving across her face and putting her under the microscope, much like she had done that night in Holly's office. It was like she was shining a light on all the parts Rachel had hidden in the shadows.
"I don't get you, Broadway," she finally said, leaning back on her knees and sighing.
"What do you mean?" It felt like such a question would be opening Pandora's box, but she had to know.
"You're angry, you're really fucking angry, I can see it in your eyes. And alright, you lash out on occasion, but you don't brag about it, you don't act tough or play it cool. No, instead you become this innocent little school girl, which is ironic cause you were home-schooled, but…makes me wonder just how good an actress you really are." Rachel narrowed her eyes but refrained from looking Santana's way.
"I mean, are you acting like you're angry, or are you acting like you're innocent? Which one is the real you, and hell, maybe they both are, but which one do you use more often? What's underneath both those masks?"
"These are rhetorical questions, correct?" she asked, taking a shaky breath, pushing her shorts back over her knees and reaching for her bag. She needed to escape from this.
"Correct, Broadway, correct," Santana said, watching her but making no move to get up.
"Then why ask them in the first place?" Rachel stopped to look at Santana as she spoke, and Santana's curious look wasn't what she wanted to see.
"Just to give you something to think about. And…I'm proud you didn't kick Mercedes ass for that shove earlier. I certainly would have. So nicely done." Rachel couldn't help her lips from twitching at the corners, fighting the smile as much as possible. Santana caught it, however, and with a smile of her own, she stood up and brushed the dirt off her.
"Now come on," she began, waving at Rachel. "Open your sack and give me some of your stuff- Hey, don't even think about protesting! You can't handle it all and you're slowing us down, so give me some of it." Rachel froze, not wanting to give in, but Santana wasn't having any of it. "I'm not going to ask again. If you don't hand me your pack right now I'll have you on your ass in the next three seconds and take it from you myself. Your option."
Seeing as Rachel had just been on her ass, she really should have listened, but this felt like one of those moments where she could safely push the boundaries.
"One," Santana said firmly, her eyebrow raising as she did so.
Deciding against that challenge, Rachel did as she was told and slipped the rucksack off her shoulders and began handing things over to Santana to put in hers.
"Thanks," she said when they were done and she was shrugging hers back on.
"No problem, here to help." Despite the almost flippant way Santana said it, Rachel knew it was true.
With that over and done with, they powered on ahead to catch up with the rest of the group.
*0*0*
The two days that followed were filled with conversations with Holly and Grace, working things out in her head, and being under the watchful eye of Santana. Rachel also began to talk to Marley more, realising that out of the whole group, she was the nicest one there and well worth talking to. It was easy and relaxing at times and Rachel felt that this experience was actually doing her a lot of good.
Yes, there were still parts to her person she didn't like and she knew they wouldn't go away over night, but this was helping, and she was feeling better about herself. She knew that she had choices, she was in control of her own life, and when she hit eighteen that would definitely be true.
Her fathers had given her everything she wanted, supported her through dance classes and singing lessons and from such a small age she was in front of some kind of audience or camera. It was all she knew, and they made the decisions for what she starred in, and they controlled how she had to live, and she loved them dearly, but she wanted the freedom.
Holly and Grace had both pointed out her desperation for control and boundaries, and she was acting out to receive attention a parent would give, not a manager. Despite attempts to deny that they had forgotten the fact she was their little girl, it was clear with the more time she spent thinking of it that the only reason they had sent her there was because she needed to clean up her image. Yes, they'd added in the part about living happy and healthy, but surely that came with conditions.
Their relationship wasn't a normal one, and in return, her behaviour wasn't a normal response. She needed to take responsibility now, and she could see that. She could see that by acting out she wasn't hurting her fathers but herself, and that was no way to live.
It wasn't going to happen quickly, but with some of her flaws recognised, she could at least attempt to overcome them.
Minding her own business while soaking up the sun, just going over said thoughts in her head, Rachel was suddenly shrouded in someone's shadow. She frowned up at them, squinting from the glare, and felt the familiar hand of Santana tug her to her feet.
"Santana, what are we doing? What's going on?" she asked, following the girl nevertheless as she was led out of camp. "We're going to get in trouble."
"No we're not. I spoke to Holly. We're fine," Santana answered, moving skilfully through the woods and then heading off the main path and onto a hardly used one, her half-empty rucksack over her shoulders. The off the main trail aspect had Rachel faltering but Santana acted like it was nothing.
"You spoke to her about walking off the main trail with me?" she needed to check because this looked like all kinds of trouble.
"Yes, so calm your tits." Harrumphing at that, Rachel took her hand back and crossed her arms, unimpressed with Santana's tone. She could practically see the other girl rolling her eyes at her, too.
They continued to walk on the small dirt path, with the overgrown bushes and trees earning her quite a few scratches on her arms and legs, and just as she was about to complain about this not being worth it, she heard the sounds of water. Holly had mentioned streams and the sorts around, but they hadn't been camping near them as there was no need. Each campsite had a water tank on site.
"What's this?" Rachel asked, finally seeing their stop.
They had come out of the trees, still partially surrounded by them, and were overlooking a pool of water at the bottom, the stream joining it through the rocks and slipping away further down. They were maybe only six feet up on the rocks above the water, but it certainly looked like a drop. Rachel instinctively took a step back from the edge, earning her a chuckle from Santana.
"This is where we deal with some of the crap you're dealing with," she said, dumping her rucksack on the ground and taking a seat, her legs hanging over the ledge.
"What are you talking about?" Rachel still had the instinct to run, but a pulling in her stomach told her to just hold on for a minute, see where this was going.
"There's one point to this little exercise, you get everything off your chest, scream, shout, cry, whatever, you do it up here, and when we're done, we jump down there and it's gone, you move on from it."
"This is ridiculous, and I'm not jumping down there!" No, absolutely not.
They could drag her into the wild and make her sleep in a tent and sleeping bag but she was not bathing or swimming in the streams and ponds. So far, she'd been thankful enough that the campsites they were visiting seemed to be attached to M.A.R.O.C. and therefore had a cabin attached to the area, with water and makeshift washing facilities.
The water beneath them was most certainly not of that calibre, and who knew what animals were in there? She wasn't exposing herself to any of those germs or risks. She had a career to think about.
"Yeah, it is, and yeah, you will. But you know what else is ridiculous? Breaking someone's nose and cheekbone because you're a shit aim is ridiculous. Falling in the street and cutting yourself up pretty badly because some idiot gave you booze is ridiculous. Flashing your ass across magazines and newspapers because you were smashed off your tits and the guy you were dancing with had no shame is ridiculous. You need to clean yourself up, and this is going to help do that."
Rachel had been feeling content, why was Santana ruining that? Why was Santana pushing this?
"You know nothing," she muttered, shaking her head and avoiding Santana's gaze. The girl was ready to argue back, however.
"Bullshit. You've had everything handed to you since you were six cause you're hot shit with your voice and your acting but you've never really 'fit in' because all the other girls have their nose jobs and look pretty. And then to make matters worse, your biological mother adopts some white, blonde baby, so she can have a family, when she turned down your offer of friendship when you were fourteen because it felt 'wrong'. You're fucked off, I get it. But what I don't get is why you don't use those fucking talents you have, and all the means you've got to do it, and change the perspective of things, show your mother what she missed out on, and fucking own your talent, instead of squandering it away." There was a venom to her tone, a fight in her that Rachel hadn't seen before.
"You have no idea what you're talking about. You don't get it," she answered, hiding behind those words like usual.
"So explain it," Santana said simply, giving a look that almost floored her. She was unforgiving in her words, but her eyes were pleading Rachel to do go with this, to go along with it, as if needing her to try.
"No. No, I won't." Santana took a heavy breath and shrugged, trying to hint that she didn't care, once Rachel had spoken.
"Fine, don't, it's your life you're wasting. It's you that is going to wind up a washed up has-been with no career and no one because you pushed everyone away for the easy fix of partying it up until you felt pretty. It's not me who is going to look back and hate themselves for all the things you could have changed but decided not to."
"That information wasn't in my file," she said, side-stepping what Santana had last said. "How did you know when about my mother when I was fourteen?"
"You're Rachel fucking Berry, you've been on TV since you were three years old. Who the fuck doesn't know who you are?" That was enough to silence her.
Taking a seat next to Santana, Rachel let her legs dangle over the edge and remained quiet. Santana had given her a lot to think about, and she just needed a moment to take everything in.
*0*0*
Eventually, Rachel began to open up. Santana had made some good points, and she was ready to get some of it out. Holly and Grace had been helpful, but there was just something about Santana that had her feeling safe and without judgement as she spoke.
There was tears and anger and more curse words than she'd care to admit, but Santana remained with her, coaxing her out of her shell more and more and really letting her loose on her issues. They must have spent four or five hours just going back and forth, covering all grounds, and lying on her back, staring up between the trees, Rachel felt a lightness to her that she wasn't used to.
"Do we really have to go in the water?" she asked, turning her head to look at the girl lying next to her. Santana smiled and shook her head.
"If it hadn't taken as long, yeah, but it's a lot darker than I would have liked so come on, we should head back."
It was then that Rachel realised just how dark it was. She wasn't one for knowing much about the wild but even she knew there were snakes, bears, wolves and a ton of creepy crawlies that she wanted nothing to do with running about in the dark.
The sun was setting fast, and with that in mind, Santana led them quickly along the small path and back onto the main trial, before making the walk towards camp. The two of them moved together in sync, helping the other up the path, and then Rachel heard it.
Panting, followed by whimpering. She froze and shot a look at Santana who had heard it too.
"What is that noise?" she whispered, looking round the trees about them. This was why she didn't want to be out there. This was what she was worried about. And why the heck wasn't Santana freaking out?
The other girl was listening carefully, not opting to keep them moving which was what Rachel wanted. She was trying to pin point where the sound was coming from, and with one frantic whimper, she had it.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Santana cursed, and Rachel was convinced they were about to be mauled by some wild animal. Reaching out, she grabbed Santana's hand for support, needing to know she was still there, and pretended she didn't see the surprised look on Santana's face.
"Is that an animal being killed or something?" she asked, hearing the whimpering and panting again.
"Nope, not unless they keep this shit up. Come on." Santana didn't let go of Rachel's hand as she pulled them closer to camp, but diverted off the track and into the trees. Rachel wanted to protest but thought it best if they were moving towards some deadly creature that it wouldn't be wise to make a lot of noise.
They stopped after only five steps, and Santana narrowed her eyes at the bushes and trees around them. It really unnerved Rachel, that they were standing there like sitting ducks, just waiting for God only knows what, but with another look at Santana, seeing how she wasn't worried in the least, she tried to ease up on her hand. Santana would keep her safe.
"You two have got to be fucking kidding me," Santana whispered harshly towards one direction, and Rachel frowned, not sure what was going on yet. Then she heard it.
"Shit, fuck, Santana can you…can you just…just give us a few more minutes? We'll head right back…promise. Shit," a voice panted back, and Santana rolled her eyes.
"You guys have two minutes and then I'm coming back with Holly, and for Christ's sake, Mack, come up for air once in a while."
Rachel's eyes widened upon realising what was going on and she spun to look at Santana in shock. This earned her a chuckle and a tug of her hand had them going back onto the trail.
"They're having sex," she whispered dramatically, once in the clear again.
"I know," Santana sang, amused.
"They can't…they can't be having sex!"
"Look at you, all scandalized," Santana teased, still holding Rachel's hand as they made their way back into the camp area.
"You should be scandalized, too!" she squeaked, wondering why she was being so blasé about it.
"Oh relax. They'll be back in a minute and everything will be fine," she replied, waving her hand dismissively, and pulling them towards their tents.
Holly and Grace were nowhere to be seen, but the others were sitting round the campfire talking. A few of them nodded in their direction and Rachel sent smiles their way, happy to be acknowledged. Still holding Santana's hand, she had to let go when Santana tugged her tent open and ushered her in. Not arguing, she went willingly, and Santana followed, situating herself right in the opening.
Just like she had said, roughly a minute and a half later, Mack and Quinn wandered into the camp, heads held high and not a look of guilt or shame in sight. Rachel was rather in awe of their calm attitude about this. They just had sex in the woods where a bear or wild cat could have eaten them, how were they so at ease?
Santana ushered them over and spoke quietly to them for a moment, and after what looked like an inspection of Quinn's neck and calling Mack an animal, she sent them back up towards the others with warnings about doing that again.
"Why didn't you tell Holly?" Rachel asked, watching Santana ease back into her tent, giving them some privacy from the others.
"They won't trust me if I rat on them. I can help them more that way," she answered, shrugging. "They know they can tell me shit that'll get them in trouble if found out, but I'll do what I can to help them out of it when the time comes."
"And what if Holly finds out you lied?"
"I don't lie to her. If she asks point blank, I tell the truth, but otherwise, no harm no foul."
There was another element to this that Rachel was considering. Santana was trustworthy, exceedingly trustworthy, and while they'd spoken about so many things before, she hadn't actually considered what would happen if that information got out. Sitting there, watching the other girl flick through Rachel's book, she realised she had definitely made the right choice by opening herself up with this girl.
"You're so beautiful," Rachel murmured, the exhaustion of the day getting to her as she lay down. It was true, and for some reason she felt compelled to tell the other girl. Maybe because she knew that this was all there would be, moments of pure honesty hidden from the others, and that she needed to just start letting herself feel the things she was hiding away.
Her attraction, how much she liked the girl sitting with her, all of that needed to go somewhere, and telling Santana what she thought didn't seem like a bad idea at all. She deserved to know, and as she looked over with confusion marring her brow, Rachel was happy to see no malice involved. The soft smile that followed made her chest swell with happiness, and then Santana returned to the book.
Rachel fell asleep roughly ten minutes later under the watchful eyes of Santana, who made sure the girl was going to be warm enough before vacating the tent when her own eyes began to droop.
*0*0*
The remaining days out in the wilderness were filled with little moments between her and Santana. They were closer, somehow, and there just seemed to be a connection there. Her words that night in the tent under drunken fatigue hadn't made things awkward or weird, and they continued onwards in this little bubble of jokes, insults, and occasionally sharing parts of themselves with the other.
Rachel learnt during that time that Santana was twenty-one, still studying for her degree, and that M.A.R.O.C. had been a lifesaver for her those last few summers. Rachel didn't ask more about it, only accepting what information was given, and did the same in return.
But all good things had to come to an end, and on that last day, Santana and her walked at the back of the group, both wishing to prolong the inevitable. They eventually did arrive back at the cabins, and although she didn't want her time with Santana to end, seeing them was like coming home.
She couldn't fight the smile on her face, which had Santana ruffling her hair and making fun of her. It didn't matter, she was back in the land of the living with proper running water, and proper food, and proper beds, and it was so good to be back.
On the way inside the building with the other girls, she spotted her fathers car in the lot, and surprisingly, she didn't feel as excited by that. There was still a leftover sting for them leaving her. Pushing that away, however, Rachel headed inside and followed the rules about sorting out the laundry from the packs, putting away the items they used, and cleaning up the mess they ended up making.
The other girls were all staying for longer treatment, and when they realised she was leaving, each one actually made an effort to say goodbye. She was touched, and tried to be the best actress possible to hide how much their simple goodbyes affected her, but two people caught her before her mask was in place.
Santana shot her a smile, rolling her eyes at her dramatics, which made her laugh, and then she saw Holly looking at her with a soft smile in place. Faltering under her gaze, she told Marley to keep in contact and then finally grabbed her things to head on her way. She couldn't even think about saying goodbye to Santana yet, and was pretending she didn't have to for as long as possible.
Holly led her through the hallways to the front doors where her fathers apparently had moved to, and she kept glancing over at Rachel with each step. It was rather unnerving, and eventually she had had enough and needed to know what the deal was.
"What is it?" she questioned, sounding a lot shyer than she had intended to. Holly smiled and looked away, shrugging her shoulder causally.
"We offer volunteer slots for past guests who want to help out-" she began, and her pause made Rachel shake her head and interrupt.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I have a pretty busy schedule ahead-" She had her workshop beginning soon, and she needed to focus on that. After that, who knew where she'd be.
"No, I wasn't offering you a spot, I was referring to Santana," Holly said, watching Rachel's reactions carefully.
"What about her?" Why did it feel like she had done something wrong?
"This was her third, and last, volunteer opportunity with us. The previous two attempts at volunteering were great, but she didn't talk to a single person in the groups. She kept to herself, accepted orders, but never said a word."
"And you're telling me this because?" It felt like it was going somewhere, admittedly, not where Rachel thought it was going.
"Because she spent the last six days trying to get you to come out of your shell and we both know that you need a lot more help with your anger and pain than what this week could provide you with." That had Rachel biting her bottom lip, narrowing her eyes at the floor beneath them as they walked.
"I don't see what Santana has to do with this." She was leaving the girl behind, and that was hard enough. Why was Holly mentioning it when she knew full well Rachel would probably never see Santana again?
"She lives in Brooklyn, when she's not up here terrorising our clients. Maybe you should give her a call if you ever need a friend. Lord only knows she would be glad to hear from you."
"I don't…I'm not…"
"Think about it, and ask her before you go. It can't hurt to have her number, just in case, right?" They came outside and stood on the porch, giving Rachel a second to mull over Holly's words.
"Right," she finally answered, wondering how exactly she was going to pull that off. Asking for a girl's number was not her forte, and despite everything, she didn't want to bother Santana by asking.
Holly bode her goodbye and headed back inside, leaving Rachel watching her fathers converse with Will, her other bags at their feet. She looked round for someone else to talk to, anyone, but there wasn't anyone else out there. She didn't want to go over and talk with them just yet. She was still angry with them leaving her, despite how things had turned out, and she wanted to avoid Will at all costs.
"Yeah, I wouldn't be going over their either, Broadway," Santana said, coming to stand next to her, shutting the door behind her as she did, and Rachel silently thanked whoever had sent Santana out there. "Will's a right creep."
She hummed in agreement, definitely not going to argue with that, and glanced to her side. Santana was watching her, and she smirked when Rachel caught her looking. With the smirk still in place, Santana reached into her back pocket and grabbed Rachel's hand, pushing a piece of paper into her palm and then closing her fingers round it.
She kept her hand on Rachel's as she tugged her down the steps, leading them on a walk down the path, past her fathers and away from the cabins. They were still insight of them, but far enough away the others couldn't hear their conversation.
"What's this?" Rachel asked, taking her hand back and unfolding the paper.
"My number." She tried so hard to ignore the fluttering in her stomach at that and the wild beating of her heart. Santana was probably just trying to be a friend. "You should call me."
"Sure. If I have a problem, I'll call-" Rachel began, only to be cut off.
"No, call me. When you hit eighteen, give me a call." There was no mistaking the darker look that took over Santana's eyes, and Rachel's mouth went dry.
"Santana?"
"Come on, Broadway, we're at least friends out of this mess," she replied, running her tongue over her bottom lip.
"Friends?" Rachel's brain had checked out for this conversation, apparently.
"Yeah, you can count on me, talk to me, hang out with me even," Santana said, shrugging her shoulders. "I recall you owing me two pairs of shoes and a handbag, and you know I'm going to collect," she joked.
"You want to hang out with me?" Rachel asked, feeling like she was in unchartered waters.
"When you're eighteen," Santana amended, being very clear about that.
"Why do I have to be eighteen before we can hang out?" That earned her a chuckle and a smirk.
"Pretty sure you can work that one out, Broadway. You're not that dense," she drawled, reaching out to tuck Rachel's hair behind one ear.
"I have one question," she said, her confidence growing in her and thinking back to earlier in the week.
"Oh?" Her eyebrows rose in question, and mirth was in her eyes as she awaited Rachel's response.
"You're a seal, too, right?" Santana laughed and rolled her eyes, not expecting that, but it was important.
"If you need me to be your damn seal, yeah, I'm a seal, too." Rachel could count on her, this little connection was part of something bigger, and Santana was going to look out for her. It made her chest swell knowing she hadn't chased this girl away with all her problems.
"So I'll call you…when I'm eighteen." Why was her birthday two weeks away? Why?!
"Looking forward to it," she replied, smiling.
Santana began to walk away with a little wave, leaving Rachel to herself, but then stopped. She twirled back around and marched over, rolling her eyes while she did so and then came to a stop right in front of her.
Rachel saw her chew on her lip, a habit she hadn't seen much, and then those lips were advancing. A peck on the cheek, lingering longer than it should have, had her taking a shaky breath and biting her own lip.
"You better call me," she husked, those dark eyes pulling Rachel in deeper.
"I will. Promise." There was no way she couldn't.
Nodding once more, Santana smiled and waltzed off like she owned the place.
Smiling herself, Rachel laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. She hadn't wanted to come to McKinley Academy Rehabilitation and Outreach Centre one bit. She had been terrified and dreading what was ahead, yet now, she had someone who made her feel safe, made her feel sure of herself.
Santana's words that day on the top of the rocks overlooking the water rang through her head. It was her future, and she needed to make the most of it. She couldn't waste it away, not when she had so many good things going for her.
It was going to be a long road until she was truly happy, she knew that, but now she wasn't alone in shark infested waters fighting for survival. She had company for what was ahead; one seal helping and looking out for another.
*0*0*