A/N: Thanks for the feedback so far. Here is the second part. If you are reading this again, there was an error that required correction and all the chapters afterwards needed re-posting to keep everything in the correct order. Apologies, if you spot the correction you are pretty eagle eyed.
Disclaimer: Glee does not belong to me
-The VIPs-
Chapter 2
She hated hospitals with a passion and it had started back when she had visited Quinn after the accident. It seemed just beyond cruelty that her former friend and cheerleading captain should be back in this position again.
They were pretty secure in the rehab hospital. ID had been checked before they were allowed to enter the patient area and she had introduced herself to the security guard at the door. He looked like he knew what he was doing as well. They were escorted in the right direction and to an open area with bedrooms along one side and offices along the other. Santana was on alert, but actually had a good vibe. Unless the unsub had some seriously powerful contacts in law enforcement there was no way he would have been able to track Berry down yet. She had been careful, despite the emotion of the car ride over there, to check for anyone following them. That included parking up for a few minutes to see if there was any sign of a car tailing them. There was no sign that they were being watched at the moment.
Quinn's room didn't bear her name on the door, rather that of a pseudonym. It was strange to see her using the name Lucy again, but choosing Russell as her new surname seemed even more surreal. Rachel watched Santana's face bear a puzzled look at the use of Quinn's father's first name; she hated the guy.
A low chuckle came from Rachel. "She hasn't lost her sense of humor."
San smiled down at Berry. "I guess not. I'll let you go first and see she's okay about me coming in there."
Rachel opened the door, but waved Santana in the obviously empty room. She looked around. The bed in the center of the room against the wall had been freshly made and there were few signs of anything personal in the room. That was good in this case. The last thing she wanted was anything to ID Quinn or Rachel on display just in case. She checked the empty bathroom as well and found nothing to concern her there either. The room was on an upper floor with no easy access from outside. The perp would have to be fucking Spiderman to get in.
"This is pretty safe Rachel," Santana explained why to the Broadway star.
"I think she must have physical therapy if she's not here." Rachel looked a little lost and disappointed.
"So soon? I thought they would need a few more weeks before she was up and around."
Rachel shook her head. "The wound is pretty much healed so they started as soon as possible. It's not the same as a compression injury. The knife went straight through her spinal cord, completely severing it, so there wasn't much they could do apart from stop the bleeding and sew her up."
Santana shook her head. "This is wrong on so many levels, but for it to happen to her of all people, again."
"You can imagine how guilty I feel about it. It should be me lying in that bed and facing a future as a paraplegic not her."
"Hey, you can't think like that. Neither of you deserve this. There is only one person responsible and hopefully the Feds will have him locked up soon."
Rachel remained quiet for a moment. "Can I take the vest off in here?"
Santana thought about it. "If you are staying in here, yes. If you want to go find her, I'd rather you keep it on until we are sure what the score is."
"I'll wait here," she unfastened the straps that kept the Kevlar lined vest on. "So why the Police?"
Santana looked at her. "I didn't really know what I wanted when we were in school, but during college I started to feel like I wanted to protect people. I guess starting the Bully Whips was a rush and I felt like I was doing something good. I saw the Police stand at a recruitment fair for college graduates and it just clicked for me. I joined straight out of college."
"Do you enjoy it?"
"I do. I started on patrol for a couple of years, got selected for fast-track promotion and went to the Gang Unit for a while. I liked that, but I er.. got a little carried away and had a couple of weeks enforced holiday. They didn't kick me off fast-track, but decided I would be better off working a unit where I was less tempted to punch someone's lights out." She grinned. "I only knocked a few teeth out of this gang banger drug dealer and only then 'cause he was dealing at a school!" She shrugged. "I made detective anyway, so I was leaving whatever. The brass like me, but I am …" she searched for a fitting self-description, "… rash sometimes."
Rachel laughed. "You haven't changed at all. Still fierce on the outside, but inside you care about people."
Santana grinned. "You still in touch with anyone else from school?"
Rachel was suddenly thrown back to their old circle of friends. "I exchange messages regularly with Kurt. He doesn't know about this and I would rather keep it from him, and anybody else for that matter. I don't want anyone else getting hurt because they know me. I get updates from the others on Facebook and Quinn is still in touch with Artie, you know they bonded, but he's out in LA so we haven't seen him since the wedding." She looked up. "What about you?"
"Nah, I guess I drifted away from all of it really. It was hard because Brit was around but we weren't together anymore."
"I hadn't realized that was so hard on you. You really loved her."
"I did and couldn't stand to see her with the Kentucky Fried Stripper."
"Isn't she a dance teacher now?"
"Last I heard she was working out of a studio in Cincinnati," Santana nodded.
"I drop the occasional email to Mr. Shue. He seems happy now. He and Miss Pilsbury finally got married and they have two children; a boy and a girl I think."
"I know. I go into McKinley from time to time to talk to the kids."
"You do?"
She nodded, thoughtfully. "There was a lot of bullying at that school and I try to stop it by talking to them. Drug and alcohol problems prevail in some communities there as well. I do what I can."
Rachel was impressed. "I am glad about that. It's great to have someone from Lima trying to make a difference there."
"You don't come back much I guess?"
Rachel shook her head. "Usually just holiday celebration with my dads and Judy."
"How'd that work out?"
"Surprisingly well. Quinn's Mom re-married some years ago. She's changed a lot actually."
"That's good. What about your mother? Do you see anything of her?"
"Occasionally. She always lets Quinn see Beth a couple of times a year. Christmas and her birthday are the regular times, plus the odd weekend now and again. We're not super close, but we get along. It's not really a mother-daughter thing, she's more like a friend I guess."
There was noise outside in hallway, a familiar voice and the sound of footsteps and wheels rolling over linoleum. Rachel moved from where she had been standing by the window, suddenly nervous about the reunion that was about to take place.
"This thing is worse than the one I had nearly a decade ago," Quinn's warm voice had lost none of its appeal as it echoed outside the room, even if she was complaining.
"It's only until you get one of your own." Santana heard another female voice reply. She wondered what had happened to Quinn's old wheelchair. She guessed it had been disposed of in the summer after graduation from McKinley. It physically made her heart ache thinking about what that was like. To have it happen to you once in life was a nightmare, but twice was just beyond horrific.
Rachel almost ran to the door and Santana should probably have stopped her just in case, but had been lost in thought and wasn't quick enough.
"Quinn!" She heard Rachel's emotional greeting and then voices were low as she guessed they were hugging. "You will never guess who's been assigned to protect me."
"Tell me it's someone who looks like Jane Rizzoli and I'll die happy," Santana laughed out loud at Quinn's joke.
"She's even better looking. Come and meet Officer Lopez."
Quinn rounded the door, her jaw wide open when she saw who was standing, hands in pockets, looking somewhat sheepish.
"How many times am I going to have to say this? It's Detective Lopez, not Officer. There's a difference you know!" Santana stood with a gentle smile, even if she was sad to see her old friend in a wheelchair again.
Quinn pushed the chair herself and rolled straight across the room and into waiting arms. There wasn't a whole lot of conversation for a good few minutes, it was mostly a mixture of sniveling and wiping eyes with Santana crouched to the side of Quinn. Eventually she released her hand from the back of the blonde head where it had been stroking the collar-length cropped hair.
"Oh God, this sucks. I'm sorry this is how we run into each other again, Q."
"Where the hell have you been for the last eight years?"
Santana laughed. "Hiding out in Ohio while you live it up in the Big Apple."
"What happened to being famous and that recording contract?" Quinn rubbed a hand across her face to wipe away the tears, but she was at least smiling now.
Santana scrunched her face up. "Not nearly so satisfying as kicking some bad dude's ass as it turns out." Santana remained crouched down so that Quinn was actually looking down on her. Her face turned deadly serious. "Just so you know. I won't let anything happen to her."
Quinn watched dark brown eyes turn almost black in front of her. The relief she felt at that moment was in such contrast to the anxiety she had been feeling for the last few months. Finally someone she could trust was in front of her and she believed absolutely, that Santana Lopez would lay down her life to protect Rachel if that's what it took. But that also made it hard to be happy, because the last thing Quinn wanted was for a friend to die.
She pulled the darker woman against her again. "Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me."
"I know you could probably use some time together, but I can't leave her alone right now. Sorry, Q."
"I don't care about that. I just want her safe until this maniac is locked up."
Santana nodded. "We're going to be getting cozy for a while. You okay with that?"
"I don't have any choice, but I'm glad it's you and not some stranger."
Santana stood up and held Quinn's hand in hers, giving her a squeeze of reassurance. "Introduce me?" She nodded to the woman who had accompanied Quinn into the room.
"Gosh, sorry. I forgot. This is my physical therapist Angela," she motioned to the tall, red-head behind her. Spinning round slowly, she addressed the therapist. "Angela, this is Santana Lopez, Detective and an old school friend. San, Angela knows the score. The FBI gave her a protocol thing."
Santana left Quinn's side and went to shake hands with Angela. "Pleased to meet you. If Q gives you any problems let me know. She's stubborn as a mule and thinks she's Superwoman so if she suggests flying from the roof just ignore her."
Angela laughed. "I think she knows more than I do so it's hard to tell her what to do. I haven't met her stubborn side, but Rachel already warned me."
"Ahem! I am actually in the room you know," Quinn protested.
"Cool your tits, Fabray. It was just a joke."
"And still not funny I see," Quinn replied with mock indignation. "Angela I apologize for her, because she doesn't really do apology, even when she is wrong."
Santana had a cheeky grin across her face and gave the therapist a knowing look. "I'm going to be around a lot. If you notice anyone or anything that doesn't seem right, let me know first and don't be worried that you are overreacting. I can always apologize if I get heavy-handed with someone innocent."
"That's what I was told to do by the FBI," she nodded.
Santana nodded. "Good, where do we get coffee around here Berry, I'm in need of a pick-me-up."
It was Angela who answered. "I'll get the ward staff to bring you something, you stay here with them." She nodded at Rachel and Quinn who were holding each other again. "Quinn, do you want to get into bed before I go?"
"Er… I think I'm good in the chair for now. If that's okay."
"Pain score?"
"Maybe a three?" She shrugged.
"Call the orderly if it gets to a five or by one o'clock, whichever is sooner. See you at three for round two."
Santana looked curiously at the therapist. "Quinn can explain the shorthand," she said and left, her long auburn ponytail swishing as she turned.
"It's okay, San. Relax. She just wants me to rest up for a couple of hours before my afternoon session."
"Okay," she walked back to where she had been sitting originally. There was a lot left unsaid, but for now Rachel was quiet, which spooked the detective. She watched as the brunette went to stand by the window again, lost in contemplation. Quinn rolled up beside the bed and poured herself a glass of water. She stayed where she was, her hands occupied, and sipped her drink for a while.
"Where are you based now?" She asked her former teammate.
"Columbus, at headquarters," she nodded out the window as if it was just across the road.
"So you live here too?"
"Yeah, I have a nice apartment not too far from here actually."
"Do you get back to Lima much?"
"I'm not sure what the average would be but every few weeks at the most. Just to see my folks usually. I was telling Rach earlier about going back into school every now and then to speak to the kids, try to keep them clean. She said you were teaching now?"
Quinn nodded thoughtfully. "For the last three years. I work at a nice school on the Upper West Side, or I used to at least." She looked down briefly.
"Is there any reason you can't go back once this is over?" San looked at Quinn, then Rachel who turned around at that.
Quinn shrugged. "I don't know how long this is going to take."
Santana didn't know if Quinn was referring to rehab or finding the guy who was stalking Rachel.
Rachel turned back to staring out of the window.
"Upper West Side?" Santana didn't understand the reference.
"Of Manhatten," Quinn responded. "It's to the west of Central Park. Nice area."
"Lots of rich kids?"
"I guess," Quinn replied. "They are nice though."
"McKinley hasn't changed much. Figgins is still there and Sue, though I think she might retire soon. She's still all kinds of crazy. Mr. and Mrs. Schue are still going strong, two baby Schue's have also arrived."
"I think we knew that, didn't we?" Quinn looked over to Rachel, who turned and nodded.
Santana looked at Quinn as if to say, 'what's up' but got wary eye from the blonde woman that suggested she not say anything.
They continued to talk about Lima and the people they knew. "Is Breadstix still open?"
"Yeah, but I haven't been in ages. We should definitely go there again sometime." Santana forgot their circumstances briefly, then remembered. "After this is all over, I mean."
Quinn nodded. "It will be nice to do something normal again."
"I'm so sorry," Rachel mumbled quietly. "If I had known for even for a second that something like this would come from me wanting to be a performer …" She left the rest of the sentence unsaid.
Quinn placed her water back on the table and rolled over to the window, slipping her hand inside Rachel's smaller one. It made Santana feel cruel that she had once called their favorite diva 'man hands'.
"Talk to me, please. Stop staring out of the window. He's not out there."
"He is. I don't know where, but until they catch him, I just can't help looking everywhere I go."
"San's here, she's going to look after you so you don't have to look out for him."
"You don't understand. I wanted this. This whole thing. The stage, the music, the adulation, the celebrity. I wanted all of it and now I feel sick at the thought that it brought us right back here."
"It's not so bad being back, is it?"
"No, but it's not what I was dreaming of for all those years and I would have given all that up in an instant for you to not be here right now."
"Ssh. Quinn tugged at Rachel's hand. "Sit," she pointed down at her lap.
"I don't want to hurt you." Rachel looked ashen.
"You're not going to hurt me, Rachel. Sit down." Rachel tentatively inched her hips over Quinn's knees until Quinn could wrap her arms around her wife. "I know you feel bad for me and to be honest, I would rather be in the drama studio with my tenth grade class like I should be instead of here, but it is what it is and we can't change it. I don't want to see you punishing yourself for something that isn't your fault. I think we've been here before. I know this is like some cosmic déjà vu going on right now and maybe this is the universe's way of telling me that I should never have gotten off so lightly nine years ago when I got hit by that truck. I don't even pretend to think that God has plans anymore, I can't subscribe to that after this. I do know that it wasn't your fault nine years ago but you tried to take the blame then, and it's not your fault now. I'll cope. If I learned anything back then, it's that we just continue with our lives and make the most of what we have. At least this time round I know how it all works." Quinn leaned her head into Rachel's bosom. "Promise me you'll stop blaming yourself and just help me deal with it. I need you to be strong for me. Can you do that?"
Rachel nodded. "I don't know that I can stop feeling bad for you, but I guess I can stop punishing myself."
"I can live with that for now. I tell you something else as well. When all this is over, and it will be over someday, we are going to have babies. I feel ready now and I want some baby Berry's or Fabray's or whatever."
Rachel laughed properly for the first time that day. "I'd love to have a baby version of you running around. Beth can have a little sister or brother. She'd really like that."
"So that's what we are going to aim for, okay?" Quinn shook Rachel until she agreed.
"Okay," she slipped out of Quinn's lap and asked if Quinn wanted to lie down. "You must be tired, travelling through the night."
"I'm fine, stop fretting." Quinn took the remote control for the TV. "Shall we watch something?" she switched it on and they found some repeat episodes of 'Friends' and 'Big Bang Theory' to take their mind off the situation for a while.
Santana looked down at her watch. It was approaching one o'clock. Quinn looked over at her. "I know what time it is," she grumbled. "No need to check up on me, like I'm staying out past curfew."
San shrugged and returned to reading the notes in the file her boss had given her.
Rachel needed the bathroom and made for the door. "Where are you going?"
"Ladies room." She looked surprised. "It's just across the hallway."
"Doesn't matter," San stood and unclipped the holster, her jacket having been removed some time ago and her white shirt sleeves now rolled up. "Where you go I go for now." She went ahead of Rachel through the door and looked for the bathroom which was just a little way down the hall. Checking in both directions first and seeing the hallway empty, she went ahead and searched the bathroom. There was someone in one of the cubicles but San waved Rachel in while she stood outside. She got a strange look from a nurse who came out before Rachel. The nurse looked at the gun and the badge strung around Santana's neck.
"Officer," the nurse nodded, realizing what she was.
"Detective," she corrected the nurse. "Lopez."
"You are here for Ms. Russell?"
"Her wife," Santana corrected her again.
"Good, terrible business."
Santana didn't answer, she just nodded in the direction of the cubicle. The nurse realized what she meant and left before Rachel emerged. She wondered if that had been deliberate on the part of her friend.
"I'd much rather you watched over Quinn than trail to the toilet with me."
"Quinn is unlikely to be the victim of another attack. You were the intended victim, Rachel. Quinn just got in the way and as terrible as it sounds, he doesn't care about her. It's you he wants and so I have to stick with you, no matter how protective you are feeling about her."
"But what if he was trying to get to her because we're married."
Santana shook her head. "The threats are quite specifically aimed at you. I wish I could end this right now, but until we either have forensics or he re-surfaces, we just have to make sure you're safe. I know this is inconvenient."
"Inconvenience is nothing," she replied and went to leave. Just as she moved, she realized that Santana was supposed to go ahead of her and stopped to allow the taller brunette to leave first. She noticed that Santana's hand rested on the butt of the gun as she opened the door and it sent a chill down her spine.
