Chapter 1: The News
Rachel sat in the doctor's office, waiting for the results to her test. She was glad Santana had brought her here. For all she knew, she could be freaking out about nothing. She hoped that's all it was. A false alarm.
It surprised Rachel that Santana had been so supportive. She remembered back to the moment Santana had practically forced her to spill the beans. That was Santana for you though. After insulting not only Brody, as usual, but also Kurt and his new love interest, Santana had got really serious – which was never a good thing for Santana. That was one thing about Santana – sometimes a good thing, sometimes a bad thing – she was never afraid to tell the truth or have an awkward conversation.
"Ok look now that we're alone I want to talk to you about what I found in your bathroom trash underneath the wadded up tissue paper, the used cotton swabs, and the soiled acne wipes; an item that unless Lady Hummel's actually been a lady all these years, could have only been yours." She started.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Rachel told her, fighting tears.
"Rachel, you're really not going to tell me about the stick?" Santana prodded.
"You had no right." Rachel accused, struggling to hold the tears back.
"Rachel, I'm your friend. You can trust me. Just tell me what's going on." Santana was starting to get really concerned.
Rachel had lost her battle against the tears. Letting them fall she put her hand to her face and turned into the couch. She had no idea what she was going to do. Santana moved over closer to her and held her.
"Oh, god." She muttered quietly to herself. Then to Rachel, "You're okay, you're going to be okay. It's going to be okay," Santana tried soothing her, rubbing her back.
Rachel was brought back to the present as the doctor entered the room.
Ten minutes later Rachel returned to the waiting room, keeping her eyes down. She gathered her jacket and bag.
"Let's go," she said to Santana.
"Wait, what happened in there?" Santana asked curious.
Rachel looked around the waiting room. She recognized no one. Still she had hoped to avoid this conversation until they were home. She should have known Santana better than that. "The doctor gave me some numbers to call. I'm going to take care of it."