It was almost as if nothing had changed, the first week after Rachel Berry went missing. If Santana was to be honest, nearly everyone at McKinley more or less went about their business unaffected by the news of the event. Most didn't seem to notice the pint-sized diva was gone, and of those that did, most didn't care at all. The few that did were predictably in glee club.
Apparently, the girl had been invited to some party one town over by some acquaintance from a summer theatre camp. Never one to deny an invitation to a social event, Berry went, though not without protest; Kurt had advised her to stay away due to some Carmel students apparently being in town for it, the egging incident clearly something the boy considered that Rachel hadn't. Either way, the girl hadn't come home that Friday night or Saturday, and by the time Sunday had rolled around there was a missing person's report filed.
Santana had asked around about the party, but no one had really been able to tell her anything noteworthy, mostly because no one really remembered her being there. It wasn't that she was going out of her mind with worry, but she was pretty concerned. Besides, Santana missed teasing Berry, she missed the girl's singing and dancing, and she knew the diva was the glue that held glee together. Okay, so she wouldn't admit it, but she was pretty damn worried.
Which was more than she could say about some others, really. Mercedes had actually openly hoped short-stack was okay, all while saying she was happy for more solo opportunities in the meantime. Finn was concerned, but figured that maybe she pulled a crazy diva storm-out and just needed time to cool down, or that maybe she was sick and needed time away. Neither of which made sense, because Berry was totes mindful of her dads, and there was no way the girl would put them through that hell. Artie was more or less indifferent, Quinn was silent on the matter, and Britt was worried, but more confused than anything, knowing Rachel loved glee and hated missing it. The blonde had thought that maybe Rachel had met new friends and lost track of time while hanging out with them, and Santana just didn't have the heart to crush her friend's enthusiasm that Berry maybe made new friends. Tina and Mike were the only two who were in the same boat as Santana, floating on the waters of reality; they knew Rachel was punctual, and she'd never miss glee or class unless something big happened to keep her from it. And that just had Santana constantly fighting away realistic, horrible thoughts that the last time she'd ever see the diva was when she'd rolled her eyes at one of her show-tune recommendations. It felt bad, regretful, like a pit in her stomach; it was a feeling she didn't really get, like, ever.
And then another week passed, state police coordinating efforts for more search parties and a more thorough investigation, but it was fruitless; days passed without any progress. Lima's main streets were covered in notices about the girl, and that's when morale started slipping. Puck predictably came to the rescue with a party to help boost people's spirits, one that Santana had wanted to go to in order to dance off her funk, but Brittany was away that weekend with Artie and Quinn was off at some weird church thing, so she held off. She was perfectly aware how drunk she got without anyone to keep tabs on her, and it would have turned her general vicinity into ground-zero for a weep-a-thon. Which totes wasn't cool or good for her rep, so she spent the night inside instead, deciding to have a lazy, home-bound weekend.
It was when she arrived back at school the next Monday that she learned Azimio and Leah, one of her junior Cheerios, had gone missing. Both were much more visible, notable peers, and the school was more or less rife with panicking students, only made worse by the assembly that was called to inform everyone of a nine o'clock city-wide curfew set to kick in that night. It seemed like a pretty arbitrary time, given that the days were growing shorter, and the sun was setting earlier, but she figured it wasn't the worst idea. Three missing students from McKinley DID seem like a pattern of sorts.
It was that weekend when her patience with the curfew officially ran out. Not that Santana usually went out after nine each night, but the sheer knowledge that she couldn't was stifling. Especially given that Britt was away again, and Quinn wasn't answering her phone, leaving her without any entertainment for the night.
She knew she was being foolish, immature, and potentially putting herself in danger, but when she cracked open her front door and stepped out in her running gear, she felt relief. Now, Santana wasn't an idiot, she was aware of the risks, and had opted to not bring her headphones, knowing that it could be useful to hear her surroundings, and that the music was too much of a distraction either way. And it's not like I'm gonna be out for long…I just need to take a quick run…
Santana quickly made her way through one of her regular routes, one she'd probably do more often with the changing leaves and everything, as it led into a number of parks. Under normal circumstances, she knew parks weren't the best lit places, and there certainly wasn't anyone around that time of night to hear her if anything went wrong, but all three kids had disappeared deep inside the towns they were taken, in well populated communities. An isolated park just seemed like a slightly safer option, given the context.
However, about an hour into her run, she heard something that gave her pause. Santana was midway through one of her favourite little nature trails when she heard the distinct sound of crying; it was faint, and a little muffled, but she knew that someone was nearby, and maybe in trouble. Her pace slowed to a stop, taking a second or two to ensure that she heard correctly, and that for once in her life she was really considering helping someone. What if it's someone that, like, escaped? Or maybe they fought off someone and…fuck, people have been going missing, and two people are better than one for protection, right?
Santana made the decision to walk into a secluded picnic area and toward the noise; the full moon wasn't giving her much help with most of the leaves still on the trees, but it was enough for her to see that the underside of one of the picnic tables was a little darker than the rest.
"Hey…are you alright?" she asked softly, trying to be quiet in case anyone dangerous was around. She couldn't believe her luck, especially since she wasn't sure whether it was good or bad yet, but if she could help someone out, then by all means. Hell, maybe it's just some lost kid or something, maybe it's not even related…
The only greeting she received were slightly louder sobs, which only solidified her certainty that someone was under the bench a few feet away from her. Santana slowly crept toward it and knelt to look underneath, thankful that her eyes were attuned to the darkness. She'd been expecting something, even if it was just a vague idea of someone. She hadn't expected to see a violently torn-up and bleeding Rachel Berry, looking like she was a few seconds away from death from some of the wounds and how bloody she was.
Santana wasn't sure how, but she pushed her fear and panic aside and just focused on what needed to be done. "Rachel." She called out quietly, not earning a response by the sobbing diva, whose eyes were closed with fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. She reached out an arm to the wounded girl, gently touching one of the diva's arms wrapped around her stomach, but Rachel just flinched and scooted away, looking terrified and in hellish pain.
"Please, no…no…just please, I can't…please…" Rachel pleaded weakly, her voice sounding as if she hadn't spoken in weeks, which truly could have been the case. Now, Santana had never been Berry's fondest fan, but she was in glee, and like Britt told her after nationals the previous year, glee was family. Santana Lopez understood family.
"I'm here to help, Rachel. I just want to get you somewhere safe, okay?" she asked, certain her eyes were just as wide as Berry's brown ones staring terrified back at her. Knowing the girl didn't have much time left with how she was bleeding, Santana pulled out her cell-phone, quickly putting in the three digits to declare an emergency.
Rachel's voice cried out to her as she pressed the third digit. "Please, no! I can't…can't go to the hospital."
Santana took in the absolute terror in the diva's voice and nodded, though she wasn't entirely convinced, given the girl's condition. "Your parents are worried sick, Berry. I'm worried sick, okay? Your dad's a doc in the ER, he could help patch you up, please." She pleaded hastily, knowing it was the first time she'd done so in a very, very long time, but she wasn't about to have Berry die on her. She couldn't even fathom it, so she sure as fuck wasn't going to let it happen.
"I can't. I wouldn't be safe there." The girl stated firmly, and Santana honestly couldn't see a trace of insincerity on the girl's usually very readable face.
It took her a few seconds to formulate any words, because her mind was going crazy trying to think up what options she had. Honestly, she was drawing a blank. "Okay, you look really messed up right now, and you're gonna need help, Berry. If I can't call 9-1-1, then you really need to tell me who can help, please." She was white-knuckle clutching her phone, each forward movement she made to get closer met with an equal scoot away. She'd never seen the diva give up before, she couldn't believe that Rachel would just let herself bleed out, so Santana knew she had to think of something. She knew that her running gear wasn't anything awesome, but it was material, maybe enough to cover up and help dress some of the wounds in the short term.
"Just leave, Santana." The girl's order was strained and sad and entirely unconvincing. It infuriated Santana that the girl would just tell her to leave, as if she was some fucking monster who would do that all willy-nilly.
"Fuck no, Rachel! Not happening, so tell me what happened and how to help, because the Rachel Berry I know wouldn't let herself go out like this!" she grit out, quickly moving to the other side of the table that Berry was closest to, which had Rachel scrambling and slumping over in pain, only crying harder at the attempt to shift away.
Taking the initiative, she reached out and gently brought the girl out from under the table, Rachel's protests barely noticeable as the girl sobbed and shook. Santana had to stifle a sob as she saw the full damage inflicted on the girl. In all honesty, it was baffling that Rachel was still alive, conscious, and hadn't bled out in a matter of seconds from how cut open and bloody she was. God, I don't think I've ever seen so much blood! Fuck!
"Stay…stay away from me, Santana, please." Rachel cried out weakly, pressing a shaking hand against the taller girl's chest in a feeble attempt to keep Santana at bay. Santana, of course, swatted the hand away as lightly as she could manage and quickly got to work at pulling her own clothes off, preparing them to dress the diva's wounds.
"I just so happened to break curfew tonight to go for a run, and coincidentally ran into someone I've been hoping would come back to us for weeks. I'm not letting you out of my sight, Rachel, and I'm NOT letting you die, okay? So help me…I need you to help me, Rachel." Her words were hastily spoken and perhaps muffled in spots from her tearing her clothes with her teeth, too intent on keeping the diva alive to focus on much of anything else.
"It's dangerous being here, Santana." Rachel protested, trying to move her leg out of the way as Santana wrapped one of the girl's wounds tightly, quickly tearing off another strip of her workout pants right after.
"No shit! We need to get out of here asap, so just hold still, okay?" Santana felt desperate as she looked at all the damage; she wasn't sure she'd have enough to cover it all, but she'd do her best.
Rachel once again tried to push her away. "I've lost too much blood, you…you need to leave."
Santana shook her head, not at all giving up on the diva. Not yet, not while she was applying her third bandage, hoping that maybe when she was done, she could hoist the girl over her shoulder and just sprint home. "Don't talk like that, you're going to make it. I'm getting you out of here." She bit back sternly, and for the first time that night, Rachel's eyes went dark. Like, fucking dark. Scary dark, and her glare was kind of freaky.
"Leave, Santana." Rachel growled, and if she didn't know that the girl had a crazy voice with a slew of accents and amazing vocal control, she might have been freaked out. It was typical Berry, using her acting skills to try and scare her.
"Nope, fuck you." Santana noted, her chipper, lighthearted tone not exactly seeming to win the diva over. Well, I guess I did swear at her… she mused as she finished hastily dressing another wound.
Rachel growled as she continued her ministrations, and eventually gave a push that had a surprising bit of force behind it, though not enough to topple her. "More are on their way to finish the job, and they'll hurt you if you don't leave now. Please…leave."
Santana lifted her head and listened to the forested area around her; wind was rustling the leaves in the trees and on the ground, but there was a different sound coming from far ahead, something that sounded a little like branches snapping. Which, to Santana, meant footsteps, which meant that she needed to get Rachel out of there.
She gave the girl a good look and, knowing she was already covered in the diva's blood, she grabbed the girl and started lifting her to her feet. Santana wasn't sure what happened next, but the wind got absolutely knocked out of her and she found herself a few feet away from Rachel, who was on one knee, breathing heavily and holding her stomach again, seemingly in a terrible amount of pain. "Leave!" the girl hoarsely forced out, eyes wet with fresh tears.
"Rachel, stop being…" Santana started, but the loud crack of branches and the rustle of bushed brought their attention to a spot across the sitting area where a pretty big motherfucking wolf was, all hunched and predatory looking. Panic surging through her veins, she lunged forward to grab the diva, only to once again be thrown backward. The second time actually hurt, though, and coincided with a loud, rumbling growl from the approaching wolf.
"Santana, please leave, please please just go! Please!" Rachel's pleads were frantic, and her head fucking hurt from Berry somehow tossing her a few feet. She wasn't a stranger to wrestling and roughhousing and shit, but that was more than Puck had done to her.
By the time she got back to her feet, the wolf was growling and stalking past Rachel toward her, the diva's complete attention still locked on her, still pleading for Santana to leave. Three things happened next that she was sure she'd never forget. Santana felt her heart clench so hard that she thought she was having a heart-attack, it literally hurt to consider what few options she had; it was heartbreaking to find Rachel, and have the girl fight her help to the bitter end. Next, her focus and composure shattered, her body descending into her own sobs and tears, because she was damn sure that it was the last time she'd ever see Rachel, and she'd failed her. She had no weapons other than her own tired body, and she was stuck there with Rachel just as helpless as before. And that hurt almost more than anything.
Almost as much as running home while her friend lay dying in her favourite nature trail, at the mercy of a bloodthirsty wolf. Santana made it about a mile before she had to stop, her body expelling everything in a vain attempt of getting rid of her shame and guilt. It wasn't often in her life that she could ever consider herself a coward, but this would go down as her biggest one yet. Rachel had needed her, and she ran. She went back on her word. She was despicable.
When she did get home, Santana quickly locked the doors, rinsed her mouth out, and promptly hid away in bed, wanting desperately to believe if she fell asleep, it'd all be revealed as a dream when she woke. It needed to be a dream.
It was with great thanks that Santana was startled awake from her dream, its contents not at all pleasant. Rubbing her eyes, she fought away the lingering fear and groggily turned toward her clock, noticing she'd been asleep for a mere hour and twenty minutes. It was a little past midnight either way, so she was pretty sure it'd be a long night, especially when her hand rested against her stomach, only for it to come in contact with dried blood.
Santana cringed, her body shuddering in revolt as the reality of the evening set in again, but a tapping at her window once again drew her focus, much like it drew her out of her troubled slumber. Slowly, she rolled out of her bed, half covering herself in her comforter, wanting to retain the warmth even if sleep didn't seem like an acceptable option right then, or at least one that she deserved. The tapping persisted as she brought her sluggish body across her room to the window, noticing a branch was hitting it. And sure, she wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of sleeping at the moment, but like hell if she was going to put up with that branch for the rest of the school year, tapping away at her window on windy days. Fuck that.
It only took a few seconds to reach the window, Santana flinging the window open with one hand and grabbing the branch with the other. Except, the branch was pretty much way too easy to move around, making it difficult to just apply leverage and snap it off. After two or three tries she looked over to the tree, entirely disgruntled, and saw Rachel perched in it, holding the other end.
A scream erupted from her throat and out her mouth as she staggered back in shock, overwhelmingly freaked the fuck out and more than a little scared. "Fucking Christ, Berry! Are you trying to kill me?! You scared the shit out of me!" She yelled, entirely pissed off over the prank until she realized that it totally wasn't a prank. And that Rachel was still covered in blood. "Wait…WAIT!" she called out as she rushed back to the window, already seeing Rachel scaling down the tree. "Go to my front door!" she called out, but the girl looked to be heading away from the house, not towards it.
Santana allowed herself a frustrated growl and quickly grabbed the keys on her desk before leaping out of her window, her hands catching a hold onto the same, familiar branch she always used whenever she'd sneak out. Within seconds she'd dropped to the ground in a roll and jogged after the limping diva. She didn't even call out after her that time, knowing the girl wasn't listening, so instead she just caught up to her enough to grab one of Berry's hands, and then stood still.
Rachel turned back to face her, looking remorseful and pale and still horrendously hurt. It was nice to see the makeshift bandages still on her; hell, it was nice to see the girl not only alive, but mobile. It was enough of a sign, at least to Santana, that she had a second chance to help the girl out. To make up for her cowardice. "Let me clean you up at least." She requested quietly yet insistently, even if it was a lie. There was no way she would let Berry out of her sight again, not until she was good and healed up.
The diva took a moment to consider the idea before taking a shaky step toward her, Santana quickly moving to the girl's side and offering her body as a support, which Rachel thankfully took. She locked the door behind them once inside and ushered the girl into her main floor washroom, sitting Rachel on the toilet for the time being.
Times like these, I'm glad my dad's a doctor… she mused, pulling her father's first aid kit out from the cabinet, grabbing as many butterfly stitches as she could find when she opened it. Using scissors, she cut Rachel's clothes off, surprised at how the material only clung to wounds in a few spots. Could have sworn she was hurt worse than this…but…I mean, I saw what I saw…
It was enough to give her relief that Berry wasn't going to bleed out on her, but the girl was still seriously wounded, and she couldn't imagine walking around with her whole body just cut up like that. "You looked a lot worse at the park…" she mumbled as she finished checking the diva for wounds, knowing she'd probably need all of the stitches.
"I wasn't…" Rachel whispered, not looking or sounding entirely sincere, but it was probably just the pain and nerves getting to her. The evidence was right in front of her, so the girl must not have been as brutalized as she remembered. Maybe my mind was just going crazy with panic, and…but fuck, that stomach wound was a lot bigger than this, wasn't it? I mean, it was gaping!...Wasn't it?
As patiently as she could manage, she cleaned the girl up with a sponge, warm water, and some alcohol wipes. Santana had never been a pro at first aid, and she certainly wasn't thinking all that straight given the circumstances; still, Rachel let her do what she wanted, and she was as gentle as she could manage, given her nerves. It was surprising to not hear a single peep out of the diva during the cleaning and bandaging process, but the occasional glance at the girl's face let her know that Rachel was both awake and alert to every action.
A dark thought crossed her mind as she wondered about their pseudo-conversation on the nature trail; Rachel seemed much too quiet and submissive to let someone she wasn't really even friends with see her and clean her entire body. She said the hospital wasn't safe…does…are her dads, like, torture porn freaks? Do they hurt Rachel and then clean her up so that no one can tell? Is that why she always wore those sweaters, or leggings some days during heat-waves? I swear, if they hurt her, I'll…
"Santana, I think you've wrung out the sponge enough." Rachel noted meekly, bringing her away from her thoughts, returning her to reality. One where Rachel needed her.
Sheepishly, she dropped the item and got to her feet from where she was kneeling by the diva's legs. "I'm gonna get you some clothes, okay? And…and maybe after, you can help me understand…this…" Santana noted uncertainly as she gestured to Rachel's body. "…Because you, least of all…oh fuck, you must be in crazy pain, I'll get you some painkillers, I'll…"
"Thank you." The diva said sadly as Santana quickly laid out a few of the strongest pills she had before darting out the room and upstairs to grab the girl some clothes. Her hands found purchase on a cheerios hoodie and some corresponding sweat pants before migrating a few drawers up for some underwear and one of her comfiest sleep shirts. After what was likely a hellacious night, Santana wanted the girl to just be as comfy as she could be, given all the ridiculous wounds she'd suffered. It still hurt to refrain from taking her to the hospital, but she trusted the diva and took her at her word that it wouldn't be safe for her. Santana wasn't about to toy with the girl's safety in any way, especially since the bleeding was under control.
It barely seemed like she'd been away for a second when she found herself back at the door frame of the bathroom, Rachel still on the toilet, looking entirely antsy. She handed the girl the pile of clothes, offering her a small smile because she was happy to see the girl had down the painkillers; Rachel deserved to have a few hours free of pain, Santana figured.
"Do you want some food? I don't have much vegan stuff, but I have some fruit and veggies." She noted, drawing the exact opposite response than she expected, Rachel keeling forward, the sound of a sob and the sight of fresh tears stabbing through the cheerleader's heart. "Christ, I'm sorry, I…I'm just not big on soy or whatever, but I'll get some, alright? I get groceries on Sunday, I can pick up more tomorrow, okay?"
Rachel only shook her head, a pained frown marring her face. "I can't be vegan anymore." The girl moaned, and while it didn't make any sense, she decided to just roll with it.
"Okay, okay. I…I'll think of something, okay? Right now we should get you changed, you must be freezing." Santana tried to will her voice to be as soothing and soft as possible, but it was a bit off; Rachel just breaking down on her brought back flashes from the trail, and that had her shaking a little bit from worry and nerves again.
The only response was a slight nod, and the seven or eight minutes that followed was pure torture, knowing each movement was painful, not only physically but emotionally for the girl. It just seemed so unfair and illogical; Rachel was pretty much the second nicest person at school, maybe in Lima. It didn't make sense that anyone would hurt her so badly and clearly with malicious intent.
Eventually, she gingerly led the girl out of the bathroom, Rachel halting their progress in the middle of the hall as the diva looked back toward the front door. "Santana…thank you for your hospitality but…this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here." Berry's voice was soft and saturated with all kinds of misery, and it felt horrible that the diva thought it was a mistake to go to her. It wasn't the biggest surprise, because most saw her as a heartless bitch, and she didn't help that perception any by acting like one at school. Santana was fully aware that she probably would have been Berry's last choice, but she still wasn't about to let that sway her into letting Rachel go.
"Just stay a little longer…please?" Santana pleaded quietly, not even needing to act like she was worried and a bit needy because fuck, she'd had a crazy night and she just wanted for it to have a happy ending. Or, at least, something happier than Rachel leaving to potentially get hurt again. "You can totally just…keep everything to yourself, I won't press or whatever. I just need you to stay for a while, okay?" Sure, it was a bit over the top, but she knew it'd get the girl's attention and maybe get her to reconsider.
Rachel was looking at her like she'd grown a second and third head, but the girl's scrutiny stopped mattering when she nodded her head and let Santana lead her into the living room. Gently, she brought the diva to her couch, propping her head on a pillow and covering her with her favourite blanket; it wasn't the perfect place to rest, but it was what was available, given that the bedrooms were all on the second floor.
Once she had Rachel settled in, she plopped down beside her and turned the TV on, nervously flicking through the channels. It wasn't that Berry inherently made her nervous, she was just worried that the girl would want to leave or try to leave, and that she'd never see her again. It was strange how a little perspective got her to realize that if Rachel disappeared, she'd damn well miss her.
"Stop." Rachel called out weakly, forcing Santana to actually pay attention to what channels she was flipping between.
She gave a shrug and got comfortable, more than willing to watch some Buffy reruns. "Didn't take you for someone with good taste, Rachel." Santana let herself smile a bit at being able to tease the girl again, like old times. It was a nice feeling.
The predictable indignant huff from the diva only lifted her spirits higher. "I'll have you know that I have a diverse taste in both television and film, and that I don't just watch Disney, musicals and classic films, Santana."
"So why Buffy?" she asked, wanting to hear the diva's reason for watching some dramatic, campy supernatural stories. It just didn't see Berry's style.
"Because…" Rachel started, her voice suddenly cracking from nervousness. "Because I like shows where even the things that people deem evil can still hold onto some semblance of humanity."
The answer was a bit unexpected, but understandable. Berry had always been a little more mature than the rest of the gleeks in some ways, and despite her fairy-tale ambitions and romantic aspirations, the girl was very aware that the world just wasn't simple. "Outside of McKinley, the world's a lot more grey than black or white." She mumbled, earning a small nod from the diva, the girl's blanketed toes wiggling a bit against Santana's thighs. She wasn't sure what Berry was doing, but she smiled anyway, happy to see the girl already drawn into the show.
Santana knew she wouldn't be getting much of any sleep that night, and Rachel didn't seem tired at all, so she decided a Buffy marathon was an alright idea. It was in the middle of the third episode that she dared to speak again, needing some answers, though knowing her questions could scare the girl off. It was a toss-up, and she favoured taking a risk.
"Are you going back to school?" She asked quietly during a commercial break, the sound of a burger king advertisement the only other noise filling the room. Santana knew that the girl needed time to recover, but she was back, and safe, and the cheerleader wanted to see the girl perform in glee again.
"It's too dangerous." The diva mumbled sadly, shaking her head as she kept her focus on the screen. Berry's words only brought back memories of that wolf, of seeing Rachel brutalized, and she couldn't fight the chill than ran down her spine from it all.
"I know we haven't been friends, exactly, but…I'll keep you safe." She noted, trying not to sound freaked out about whatever danger Rachel was in. It didn't matter anymore, it was irrelevant, because she'd make sure no one hurt the diva. "I'll make sure of it, and I'm sure Britt and Quinn and…"
"Santana…" Rachel's strained voice stilled the words in her throat, forcing her gaze back to the small girl nestled almost completely underneath the blanket. "It wouldn't be safe for the rest of the students."
Santana looked hard at the girl, as if staring would reveal answers to the plethora of questions floating in her mind. "I don't understand."
"It's complicated. I'm…" Rachel started, letting out a sad sigh as she closed her eyes and finally turned her head to face Santana. "I'm being hunted. If…If I go to school, it'll put other people in danger, and I can't. I can't. No one can know I'm here, that I'm alive."
She understood the words coming out of Rachel's mouth, it wasn't like the girl was being unnecessarily verbose, but the message just didn't make any sense. "I don't get it, why would anyone hunt YOU? I mean…you're you, you're not some serial killer or anything."
"Apparently some people are mad that I exist, for reasons I have yet to be told." Rachel mumbled, and that only compounded the ridiculousness of it all, because clearly Berry wasn't lying, so there actually WERE people out there trying to take her out. It made no sense!
Santana grabbed one of her throw pillows, needing to just clutch and knead at something, and her stress-ball was nowhere in sight. "That's so…so STUPID! I mean, you can be annoying at times, you're overbearing, self-centred, a little manipulative, and you may have the fashion sense of a librarian with Benjamin Button syndrome, but that's no fucking reason! You're vegan, you wouldn't hurt a fly…outside of Britt, you're the nicest, sweetest person at school." She ranted, Rachel's wide-eyed gaze thankfully softening after the compliments, because she didn't want the girl to think she thought badly of her or anything. She was annoying, but it didn't take away from the fact that Berry was pretty damn nice and ridiculously patient sometimes. She'd have to be to give her and Quinn second and third and fourth chances.
"It's not that, okay? Just…can we change the topic? The commercial break's nearly over." Rachel asked, biting lightly on her slightly swollen lip. The fact that Berry was asking her to be quiet so they could keep watching the show instead of just wanting to leave was a sign that maybe the girl would stick around. She wanted to ask about the people chasing her, she wanted to know how in the fuck they had wolves as attack dogs, and how Rachel managed to escape. At the same time, she knew that those questions were probably best kept for another day.
Santana nodded and patted the girl's blanket-covered feet. "Alright. But I'm starting to get tired, so after this one or the next one, I'm heading to bed, and so are you, okay?" she asked, drawing a reluctant nod from the diva. "You can take one of the guest bedrooms. They're nice, and you can rest better in there than here."
Once again, Santana felt the girl's feet lightly tapping against her thigh. "I don't want to impose, and your parents will ask questions, and…"
"My papi hasn't been home for more than a few straight hours in months. He usually just sleeps at the hospital, and if he managed to see you when he came home, he'd probably leave even faster." Santana said, feeling a pang of guilt for talking about her father that way, but it wasn't like she was exaggerating or lying. He never wanted to be home, not since she came out to him early that summer.
"What about your mom?" Rachel asked, and even after so many years, she still couldn't help but flinch at the mention of the woman.
"The only person who's going to be home regularly is me, so don't worry about it." She stated, trying not to sound defensive, but that topic always got her emotional, and it wasn't the kind that she liked confronting or dealing with.
Rachel nodded silently as the show returned from its break. The both of them just remained where they were, Rachel's head once again turned to face the screen while Santana idly rubbed the girl's feet. A few commercial breaks later, she failed to stifle a yawn, and that was apparently all the ice-breaker Berry needed.
"Do you have an attic or a crawlspace? Somewhere in the basement?" The girl asked, the request entirely catching Santana off guard. Sure, Berry hadn't seen how awesome the guest room was, but she couldn't imagine any reason why the girl would pass it up in favour of some dark, shitty room.
"We have an attic, but it's mostly just used for storage. Lots of boxes in there, not real comfortable." She noted hesitantly, really hoping that the girl wasn't going to take that option. Her hopes were dashed when the girl shot her a sad smile.
"I'll stay there. Someone might have seen me come here, and it'll be easier to hide away if they come and check." The girl noted nervously, and Santana was sure that Berry was shaking. She could feel the girl's feet again, but they weren't tapping her so much as colliding intermittently.
Santana got up off the couch and knelt over at Rachel's side, knowing that even if the girl couldn't meet her gaze, it wasn't necessary. Berry was terrified, and at least at that moment, more than anything, she wanted to change that. "I'll keep you safe. For as long as you need, okay? You're safe here." She whispered, tucking some of the girl's matted hair behind her ear and out of her face. "No one's going to look for you here."
Rachel smiled an actual, real smile, and it felt kind of great. Mostly because, even if just by a little bit, she helped push that fear away. Knowing she was much too tired to keep watching Buffy, Santana switched the television off and quickly planned out what she needed to do.
Wordlessly, she placed a hand on the girl's back and gently helped Rachel sit up, allowing her to move the blanket around enough to wrap the diva up while keeping the girl's arms free. Berry's eyes never left her as she continued gingerly moving the diva around, who was thankfully not questioning her like she'd expected. When she was happy with her prep, she scooped her arms under Rachel and lifted her up bridal style, Berry's arms quickly wrapping around Santana's neck for support.
They were both silent as Santana ascended to the second floor and, as gracefully as she could manage, opened the door to the attic and rested Rachel down onto a box. "I'll be right back, I promise." She noted hastily, before darting out of the dark, dusty room and into the nearby guest room. As quickly as she could manage, and with strength that she knew was mostly propelled by the urgency of the matter, she hauled the mattress off of the box-spring and started pulling it out of the room and down the hall. It was really fucking heavy and unwieldy, and perhaps she swore loudly a few times when it toppled against the wall and refused to budge an inch. And maybe it took her five or ten minutes to get it where she wanted it.
Eventually, she pushed the mattress into the attic and quickly stacked and rearranged boxes to make just enough room for it. If Rachel insisted on hiding away for her sake, she'd make sure the girl would be as comfortable as possible. Once again she dashed out of the attic and into her own room that time, grabbing her spare comforter, some sheets, pillows, and all of the stuffed animals she and Britt had accumulated over the years. Santana could only be thankful that Britt had insisted the plushies all be together at Santana's, having said they were family and needed to have a home; she just hoped that it could maybe cheer up the wounded girl enough to give her even a decent sleep.
Rachel's amused giggle when she walked into the attic with armfuls of stuffed animals was worth the price of admission, and within a minute, she had the girl's bed all set up. She sent the diva a goofy smile, gesturing to the very populated bed. "Your kingdom awaits you, Rachel."
The girl shook her head, unable to suppress a grin. "Well, it would be poor form to keep my people waiting, wouldn't it?" Rachel asked, this time reaching her arms out in a silent request for Santana's help. Help with she was happy to give, gently getting Berry to her feet, scooping her up and laying her down onto the mattress. Rachel didn't seem to be in much pain as she pulled the blankets up over her with one hand, hugging a large elephant plushie with the other. Sure, Santana knew the girl was pretty comfy in the bed, but it didn't change the damage she'd endured.
Feeling decidedly maternal for one of the few times in her life, she bent down and lightly kissed the diva's forehead. "I'll be in the second room on your right, okay chiclet? Sleep tight."
With the blankets nearly covering Rachel's face, she could only see the girl's eyes widen at the gesture, but they were big, brown and soft and maybe she'd won some points with that. And maybe Rachel felt a little more secure. And as Santana walked sleepily to her bedroom, that's all she really had the energy to hope for.
Sunday came and went quietly for Rachel. Since they'd gotten to bed so early in the morning, Santana slept most of the day anyway, only managing a meal and a few hours for homework and idle chitchat before succumbing to sleep to ensure she'd be able to get up bright and early Monday morning. The cheerleader had forced her to eat, and had made a delectable looking dish that depressingly didn't taste quite as well as she knew it should have. So Sunday had been quiet, which Rachel generally approved of, because her newest friend of sorts thankfully didn't ask any real questions. And since Rachel changed her own bandages while Santana was busy, the cheerleader didn't check to see how she was healing. At least, she agreed not to check after about a thirty minute argument, but the diva had expected that much from how committed the girl was to making sure she was comfortable and healthy and safe.
Hidden away in the attic that was thankfully windowless, she more or less slept and rested for the daylight hours, explaining it away that if the people hunting her came around, it would be at night, and she wanted to be as prepared as possible. Which, thankfully, Santana bought. Rachel only once heard heavier footsteps throughout the house, which must have been Santana's father; much like the girl had noted, the man was only home for a few minutes before leaving. Which left the two of them alone, something she found both relieving and a little sad. Being alone might not cause loneliness, but she couldn't imagine being alone at home was good for Santana.
It was kind of sweet, if she were to be honest, that the girl had been so accommodating. When she'd encountered Santana at the park, it was all she could do to just restrain herself. Even that had slipped in the end, and had that wolf not scared the girl away, she was sure something horrible would have happened. And even afterward, when she went to see if Santana made it home safely and waffled on asking for the girl's help, it had been a struggle to go along with it all. But she was glad she had, because for a girl who had seemed to truly dislike her throughout most of her years at school, Santana had really made an effort in caring for her. Giving her space and privacy, conceding to her wish to set up in the attic, feeding her, patching her up, it was all kind of sweet how flustered and determined the girl was to make her home a safe place for Rachel. And the cheerleader hauling a whole mattress into the attic, along with sheets and a comforter and pillows and a kingdom of stuffed animals was something she still had a hard time wrapping her head around. Especially the kiss and the…the nickname…'chiclet'? That was new…and for the first time ever, it was kind of positive, or at least neutral, right?
All of that at least gave Rachel something to think about, which managed to keep her mind off of her hunger, and the fact that she was feeling weaker by the day. It was easier to ignore when she was sitting in bed with a book in hand, or just thinking about what possible future she had, what regrets she had, and what she needed to do about Santana. It was all such a mess still, and she wasn't even sure where to start planning. I wish I could just go back in time and not go to that party…I wish I hadn't stopped on my way home to get snacks, and…and I wish that THING hadn't hurt me… Rachel thought to herself, unable to repress a sigh at how depressing it all was. There was so much trouble bearing down on her, and she didn't know why. She just wanted it to be gone, or for it all to be over with, and for her to have her Broadway dreams back. Or my family…I miss them so much, but I know if I tried to visit, they could get hurt and…yet, here I am, putting Santana in danger. Sure, she insisted, but she could DIE. But they haven't found me yet so maybe I'm safe here…at least, until I tell her…
It was something of a perfect hiding place; given their previous relationship at school, Rachel was pretty sure no one would look for her there. Though, despite how enjoyable the cheerleader's hospitality had been, she knew that she couldn't keep the truth from Santana for much longer. So she slept most of Monday , deciding it was better than being awake and just waiting; it wasn't as if she was tired enough to be truly sleepy, but it was wasteful and tiring being awake when she didn't have to be.
It was around seven in the evening when Rachel woke to the sound of the front door slamming shut. Her ears perked up as she slid out of bed and opened the door, trying to discern who it was. When Santana broke out into song a few seconds later, well, it was relieving; it was good to know the girl was home, and that she was in a good enough mood to be singing for no apparent reason other than simply being happy. Rachel looked back at the alarm clock in her makeshift room and saw she still had about forty five minutes left until she felt truly safe enough to go downstairs. The sun was already setting, but she wanted to play it safe, just in case.
So she sat there, reading an old encyclopedia from Santana's room while she waited, though the suspicious lack of movement and sound downstairs worried her. She couldn't hear the television or the radio or anything, and it had her a little antsy that maybe Santana was being held hostage or something. Sure, it was a long-shot, but it was possible, and it had her quickly shutting the book and tiptoeing down the stairs when the clock hit seven forty eight. Quietly, she moved through the hall and into the kitchen, pausing momentarily at the door frame that led into the living room. Taking a steadying breath, she peeked her head around the corner.
And found Santana zonked out on the couch, her headphones still on and her ipod resting on her chest, the softest of snores emanating from the girl's mouth. She couldn't suppress a giggle at how over-dramatic her thoughts had been, realizing that she should have remembered that Santana had morning and evening Cheerio practices, and that napping for a bit simply made sense.
Though apparently Santana was a light sleeper, Rachel's barely restrained amusement fluttering the tired girl's eyes open into a squint as she scanned the room, pouting with confusion until her eyes met Rachel's. "Oh, hey. I…I thought you were out or something…I guess I got a bit distracted." The girl noted sleepily, yawning and stretching afterward as she sat up and removed her headphones.
"It's okay, I know how comfy that couch can be." Rachel's words seemed to reassure Santana, who looked fondly down at the furniture and patted it; it was still a little weird to think Santana wanted to spend time with her, and wanted her to sit close, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything. Besides, as her guest, it was only polite.
Rachel was just getting comfy against the armrest when Santana let out another yawn and pulled out her phone. "I'm gonna order in tonight. Is there anything you have a craving for?"
She just winced at those words, knowing that yes, she did have a craving, but it wasn't entirely appropriate or something she wished to indulge in. "Not particularly, no."
Santana simply shrugged and wiped at her eyes as she slumped forward a bit. "They…two more kids from school went missing." The cheerleader mumbled sadly, her words causing Rachel's eyes to bulge. More? TWO more like me? What the heck…maybe that's why I haven't had many pursuers, if they're busy chasing the others…I... "It's no one we know, I don't think, but it's still kind of freaky. I mean, how do five kids go missing?"
"Five?!" Rachel blurted out, only just having attempted to get used to the idea that there were two others like her. Four others just seemed a little too much to be a coincidence. "Oh no…I hope they're alright, but…holy moly."
Santana gave her a long look, her dark brown eyes studying Rachel's own rich mocha pair. "Do you know what's happening?" The question was simple, a yes or no answer that she could likely brush off, given how nice Santana had been about giving her space. Still, she knew the truth would need to be told soon enough, and it was probably a good enough time for it. She knew it'd hurt to get too close to anyone, so honesty would keep what was left of her heart safe when she would eventually be told to go her own way. Rachel gave the girl a simple nod in answer.
Santana slowly got up off the couch and knelt in front of where she was sitting, looking up at her with fear and defiance dancing in her eyes. "Are we being hunted too?" Santana's voice was softer than she could have ever imagined as it delivered the question, one that she had to hesitate to answer. In truth, her incident seemed random, but if five from McKinley had been taken, then that was a pattern, and that couldn't be ignored. Seeing the cheerleader desperate for an answer, she bit her lip and nodded.
"You probably are now, I think. Though I can't imagine everyone's survived so far like I have." She answered, her words causing Santana to go rigid in front of her, the girl's jaw set and clenched . The cheerleader took a few moments to digest that, her face a evolving conflict of worry, determination, and confusion, the last of which seemed to win out as Santana gazed back up at her.
"They haven't found any bodies, though." The girl noted as quiet as a mouse, her face contorted with skepticism and perhaps a little hope. Hope that Rachel desperately didn't wish to dash, but she had to tell the truth. She HAD to.
Santana's face fell a little when Rachel let out a sad sigh a bowed her head, her messy bangs keeping either from making eye contact. It was just too hard for her at the moment. "I don't know if it's the same for all cases, but…I'm pretty certain there wouldn't be a body to recover if they didn't want there to be."
"Fuck!" Santana yelled out, quickly pouncing to her feet and pacing around the living room anxiously. She averted her gaze from the cheerleader's worried face and tried to focus on the situation at hand. Clearly, I'm…I'm just causing her to worry, I'm causing her trouble…
"If you want, I'll leave. It's okay." She called out, hoping that would appease Santana enough to get her to stop panicking. She knew if she left the girl's home, Santana would most likely be safe from danger. It would be best for everyone.
Rachel had expected some resistance, more or less along the same lines as they'd been encountering since she was taken in. She didn't expect Santana to furiously march over to her and lean into her personal space, the cheerleader's arms blocking her in at both sides as they clutched to top edge of the couch. "It's NOT okay, Berry! I might not like you ninety percent of the time, but you're family! You're staying, period." The girl growled out, Santana's face a mere inch or so from her own. Never before had the girl tried to intimidate her with anything but yelling and threats before, but she could easily admit that the cheerleader was quite frightening when she wanted to be.
Still, she knew she had to do the right thing for the both of them. "Me staying here puts YOU in danger. You could get hurt too, Santana, and you don't need the stress."
The growl Santana let out at that was more than a little unnerving, and for a moment had Rachel wondering exactly which out of the two of them was the beast. "Neither of us are gonna get hurt." The cheerleader grit out before unleashing a long exhaled breath and plopping down beside her, clearly taking a few seconds to calm herself down. Rachel was surprised when she felt Santana's hand prodding her own open, the girl's fingers smoothly lacing with hers and squeezing gently. It was a simple gesture, but an unexpected one, given the girl's usual tendency to withhold affection to anyone whose name wasn't Brittany Susan Pierce. "I just need to know how to keep us both safe, chiclet, okay? Just…just tell me what's going on."
It was one of those refreshing moments where Rachel realized she still had something of her old self left inside of her, as her heart overturned her previous decision. She just couldn't help it; the hand holding, the unyielding support, the soft, tender tone of her voice. It was too hard to say no, and she didn't want to see the dejected look she was increasingly sure would mar Santana's features if she did.
So she stood and gently unlatched her hand from Santana's, giving her a reassuring smile as she did so in hopes to keep the girl from being alarmed. "I'm going to say some things and…and I'll probably sound really stupid or ridiculous or unbelievable, or maybe like some prank...so if you ever just want me to leave, tell me. I'll go immediately, okay?" she asked, drawing a hesitant nod from the clearly concerned girl in front of her. She took a sigh to steady her breath, knowing it'd be the first time she would verbalize her experience. "I went to the party, but it wasn't fun at all, and some Carmel students kept harassing me and abusing me with slurs and spilled their drinks on me not so accidentally. It wasn't fun. So I left, deciding to get some snacks before heading home to watch Funny Girl."
Rachel smiled at the memory of the relief that film had brought her once, how it was always able to cheer her up no matter how miserable of a day she'd endured. She'd been excited to go home, to eat some chips and dip while watching Fanny Brice and Arnstein do their glorious thing. "I left the store with some food, but…I must not have been paying attention on the way back to my car, because I was ambushed by this terribly strong man, and thrown into his van. He…he attacked me."
Santana's face darkened at those words, the girl's hands kneading the couch cushions so roughly that Rachel feared they'd tear, and it really was a lovely couch. She knew that Santana was thinking of something else, something also malicious and horrible, but she promised the truth. "Not…it wasn't sexual. He was hungry. Starving, I suppose."
Rachel watched as Santana's expression went blank, the girl slumping backward against the comfy couch. "He…wait, are you…are you saying some pothead mugged you for some munchies?" The cheerleader asked quizzically, clearly having trouble understanding what the hell to do with the information Rachel had relayed to her. In hindsight, I probably could have been clearer…
"No, he…well, he bit my neck and then he drained me of blood. I…I can't remember the whole struggle because I fainted, but... but he cut open his wrist and he tried to get me to drink too. I tried not to, I didn't want to but I was weak, and…I threw a lot of it up but some got in. " Rachel stated quietly, while Santana just sat there with an unreadable expression, her head cocked to the side ever so slightly as she took in every one of the diva's words. At least, Rachel hoped the girl was. "He kicked me out of the van after, and brought me to some forested area by the store, and basically just threw me into a ditch. When I woke up, I was in agony. For hours, I cried out, my body feeling like it was on fire. It was inescapable for so long, and when it finally stopped hurting enough for me to move, I made it back to my car and drove to the old bridge down on Wareham road. It was getting light out, and my instincts kept telling me to find somewhere dark to hide for the rest of…"
Her rambling words caught in her throat as Santana abruptly stood and grabbed her bag. Rachel took in the girl's wide eyes and the fear pooling in them, only made more obvious by the slight quiver in the cheerleader's lower lip. Santana was scared, and even though she hadn't dared to hope, it still felt awful that it was going to end this way. This is it then…
"I need to think." The girl breathed out as she fumbled for her car keys, eventually grabbing them and clutching them with white knuckles.
"I'll leave, Santana… it's alright. Just please don't tell anyone, okay?" She answered quickly, knowing that somewhere in her rant, Santana found something believable, and was freaking out over that. It had taken her days to digest that the world was very different than how she thought it was, and knew that the girl really didn't need that kind of stress on her mind, especially with cheerleading and school and everything.
She watched Santana stiffen a little before shaking her head furiously. "No, no fucking way. You're not leaving." Santana spoke, her voice strained and flat as she seemed to struggle getting mere words out. "Even if I'm totes going out of my damn mind right now, you're not leaving. At least, not right now. Just…fuck, just go downstairs, alright? I'll be back in a bit."
Rachel wasn't exactly sure what there was to think about, but she went along with the request anyway, deciding that it was only fair, given what she'd thrust upon Santana. Quietly, she walked out of the living room and found the entrance to the basement, taking the winding stairwell to the bottom. She flicked on the light expecting another storage area, but instead found a workout area with a mat, heavy bag and equipment, a couch with a large television nearby, as well as a small bar nestled in the corner along with a wine cabinet. There was another door on the other end of the room, which probably led to a small storage area, but all in all, the room was quite nice. The very definition of a stereotypical recreation room, if she had to define it.
Not that she felt in the mood for any of that. Not with Santana banishing her to the basement and running off to 'think'. She trusted the girl to not tell anyone about her secret, surprisingly, but it still had her wishing that she wasn't stuck in her current predicament. That she was normal again, and got to know Santana for real, while her own blood pumped in her veins. Feeling more than a little bit crestfallen, she made her way over to the bar and rested her head against the counter, thinking she'd rather endure twenty slushies a day than deal with being a vampire.
A/N: I kind of felt in the mood for something potentially spooky/supernatural/halloween-themed, and this kind of happened. Well, it was outlined a long time ago (and there's certainly more content outlined, but I found this to be a nice ending point for the first chapter), but I only recently got around to toiling away on it to any significant degree.
This will just be a minor project of mine, I've been a busy bee with my schoolwork lately so I'm hoping to grab some time tonight to push out a chapter of Mirrorball. Or, barring the failure of that, I'll post a chapter of Feathers to make up for it. :P Either way, there'll be this and something else soonish
I won't be following any set lore standard, so if you're expecting me to hold to Buffy vampire lore, you'll be a little disappointed. I'll be mixing and matching between Buffy and Vampire: The Requiem for that, and there will be some WoD and Supernatural influences in here as well as a few original bits. But mostly the duo of Buffy and White Wolf's stuff will be influencing the lore here.
Anywho, thanks so much for reading, and for being super patient with me. These past two months have been hell for me, and the rest of the semester isn't looking too bright either. I blame 4th year university course workloads. :P
Have a wonderful weekend!