Disclaimer: I own nothing but my twisted imagination.
Chapter Two:
"How could this have happened? I was told that this situation was under control! Sue— I was informed by the police today that you didn't take proper procedure reporting last month's events?"
"I don't know what you're talking abo—"
"Ah Sue don't give me that! I found this out today, Sue! Today!"
"Found out what?"
Schuester walked in, adding to the heated discussion as he sat, bewildered in front of the school principle.
"I was informed by the police about last month's incident involving Ben-Israel self copulating to Rachel Berry's blog footage. I am appalled that this incident was not documented and turned over to Emma."
"Yes, sir—I just received your message that you wanted to see me; Hello William, Sue."
The counselor stood daintily near the principles desk as she strode in, trying her best not to touch anything.
"Emma. A student has been sexually assaulted and I have been informed that Ben-Israel's infatuation with the girl escalated to such horrible—"
"Can it Figgins. You can sit here and try to say that you could trace it through the paperwork, but going back and finding a paper trail will not erase what happened to this girl. Now, as educators we have to pull the school together and show them the consequences violence against other students can bring!"
"Sue, while I'm quite irritated with your false portrayal of empathy; I cannot disregard the implications of this incident and the influence it will have on Rachel Berry and her guardians. She was sexually assaulted by a young man on our watch! We cannot be ignorant to the outcome of this crime. The police will call into question every formal attack on Rachel Berry, her fathers may even mandate a lawsuit. I need to understand why a girl was raped on school grounds; and why this couldn't have been prevented!"
The fist that was slammed on the death hushed the room, booming in the teachers ears as they all looked to one another. Sue Sylvester had been called into the office during her second round of practices that day by bullhorn. She was generally concerned when the police asked to question her, after being told that two of her own cheerleaders had found the girl, and probably had to give statements on what had happened. She sat there now, staring at Figgins, who was ultimately trying to find a scapegoat since he couldn't willingly blame himself for the attack.
William Schuester sat beside her, his brow mimicking his hairline as he sat there open mouthed. He was summoned while grading papers in his classroom. He'd stayed late enough to give him time outside of his confining apartment—so when the police had announced that all school personnel remaining in the building head to the auditorium, he was dreading the aftermath. When the police questioned him, he could only give forth the tiny bit of information he knew about the slight crush Ben-Israel had on Rachel, and input the heavy amount of bullying she suffered over the time he'd known her.
"Principle Figgins, Rachel has to report the harassment, or agree to take action over it for it to be a formal problem. A lot of kids get bully her, the bigger issue is that until they report it themselves, nothing can be done about it. Same goes for the crush that Ben-Israel has on her—"
Sue interrupted him then—putting her hand up to silence him instantly.
"Crush! William I am appauled at your lax attitude toward this situation.—"
Emma interrupted then—quieting the room with the quiet buzz of her voice.
"While I understand that everyone is angry for what has happened, all we can do right now is hope that Rachel can get through this. The finger pointing is unnecessary and I think we should just try our best to educate and inform our student body that she will be okay. And Will, while the bullying will come up, I think we can still acknowledge that Rachel didn't deserve any of what has happened today. If you all will come with me to my office, I have a few pamphlets we can all look at.
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He was sitting in a room. It was one room with one door, two chairs and a table. There is a window of glass in the wall behind him, as well as corner cameras around him. His hands are cuffed behind him through the opening of the folding chair, chafing his wrists as his bare arms dripped of perspiration. He whistles to calm his nerves; the eerie tune doing nothing to distract his anxious nerves. The door opens the sound from the bullpen outside crawling into the room with a strong perfume. He inhales, the lilac bouncing off his senses, giving him reprieve from the guilty stench hovering over his head. The female cop sits, pushing the water to him, sadistically watching him lean forward and grip it with his teeth, nervously gulping down the cool liquid, before shaking the cup from his clench. She stared at him.
"Your parents have agreed to let you speak with us, they've decided you don't need a lawyer."
He rolled his eyes. That figured, his parents would pretend to be moral outstanding Jews at this point of his life—choosing to pretend as if they actually paid him any attention.
"Whatever."
"Well, I'm Detective Gray, I've talked to a lot of people today, and right now, this is an open and shut case, Jacob. You raped Rachel Berry and all we need now is your account. You left your semen on her body, you scratched, bit, and pummeled her, and you left her to bleed out. All we need is your account, and we can close this file."
"Who says it wasn't consensual? She's been flirting with me, sending me signals, I just acted on it."
He wasn't wearing his glasses. They'd taken them when the police frisked him and collected his belongings for intake. He hoped the level of disgust he had with the female officer registered well on his face.
"It was worth it. And I'd do it again just for the chance to relive being inside of Rachel Berry."
She looked at him, her face twisted in an obscene display of complete revulsion and slight discomfort. She was looking at him like he was a monster, sitting in front of her baring his crimes in boast. She looked like she wanted to spit in his face. He didn't care. He'd admit it a thousand times over. He did it, and he would serve all of time he needed to; because what it felt like was worth every minute he'd serve in prison. He simply didn't care.
"I do believe that's all we need, Jacob."
She opened the door and the officers waiting outside charged in, lifting him at the elbow to officially take him into custody.
000 0000 000
She hadn't said anything during the ride to the hospital. The paramedics promised her they would take care of her, and that her father would be there hopefully when she got there. They worked on the wound on her back, gave her an iv, and cut around her clothes to prep her for check-in. They took her to a room when she got there. It was a room with a door instead of a curtain, and she could hear the rush of the hospital behind her as she was rolled in; she could feel the suffocating silence of the room as they set her down and shut that door. She waited, not knowing how to feel until the nurses came, telling her that her father was here, and he would see her after the rape kit; that she numbly gave consent for after they explained to her what it would be for.
She sat still when Dr. Greenburg sat on her stool at the foot of the bed, too shocked to concentrate on the burning of her nerve endings. She was replaying the entire day in her head, trying not to jerk away from the Doctor's exploring hands; not completely lucid enough to cry through the stitches, through the collecting, the scraping, or the photographs. She was still in her own world in her head, trying to block out images marring her memory. She felt sick to her stomach, wrapping her arms around herself for support, shuddering when she realized that the support was shallow. A cop came in, asking her questions that she couldn't really remember answering. But she nodded and rubbed her arm in comfort; but she felt the pity oozing through the fabric of her shirt.
When everyone left, and her father sat in the bedside recliner, his head resting at Rachel's side, she cried. She felt the bile at the base of her stomach bubbling, heaving into her hands as she realized what happened, sobs bouncing her father out of his sleep and by her side instantly. Through the quiet 'Baby it's okay' and his constant soothing rubs along her scalp, she fell asleep, waking up later when the clock on the wall read close to nine, the lonely room dark and empty, her father probably somewhere talking to her Daddy, who would probably be making the trip from Chicago the next morning. Her door opened, the screen blocking the door from view shielding her visitor.
"They said you were going to be okay; right?"
She didn't expect Santana Lopez to be the first visitor she had, but then again, she hadn't really expected visitors at all.
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A/N: Santana's concern is well rooted, maybe these girls have something very big in common that will be revealed next chapter. Expect longer chapters after this. And look at that: early update! Read and Review!