Chapter 7
At home later, Rachel took herself to bed early, leaving Santana up watching a movie. She put in a call to her mom around nine just to let her know she was on assignment and wouldn't have much time off for a while. Finally she toured the house, checking all the locks on windows and doors, then setting the alarm for the ground floor. As she climbed the stairs, she heard a noise from Rachel's room. Closing in on the door, she recognized the sound of sobbing and hung her head in sadness. She'd had a rep for being cold-hearted in school, but it was just a disguise. She tapped lightly on the door.
"Rach can I come in and check the locks on the window?"
She heard sniffing and a nose being blown.
"Come in," came a husky reply.
She turned the handle and entered. "Sorry, I'll just be a minute."
"It's alright. I was just having a good cry."
"I heard. Feel better now?"
"Not really. I'm so scared all the time and I just want to curl up in bed next to Quinn and have her hold me and tell me everything will be okay but I can't." Rachel descended into tears again.
Santana dropped onto the bed beside her friend and wrapped an arm around her. "I'm not Quinn, but I can hold you and tell you that everything will be okay."
Through her tears Rachel mumbled. "I feel like I can't trust anyone anymore."
"You can trust me, Rach. I won't let anything happen to you. I promised your wife and she's scarier than me when she's pissed so I got plenty of motivation." Santana chuckled to herself and Rachel joined her even though the tears continued for a while.
"Do you think she's going to be okay? I know she's amazingly brave and putting up a good front, but I can't see how she can be happy from here on."
"It's going to take more than a wheelchair to stop Quinn Fabray. I think she's going to be okay and so long as she has you, she'll be happy."
-THE VIPs-
The detective and her charge arrived at the hospital the following day to find Quinn stretched out on her bed. She had just finished eating lunch and was resting before her afternoon session with Larissa. The blonde was distracted by the music blaring in her headphones, which she was singing along to. Her eyes were closed and she just didn't realize the door to her room had been opened.
Sensing something, the hazel eyes popped open and she was briefly startled at the sight of two people in her room until she recognized who it was a moment later.
Pulling off the headphones, she dropped them beside her. "Oh my God! I almost had a heart attack. You scared me half to death."
Rachel chuckled and leaned over to give her a kiss. "Don't blame me, you had the music turned way up. I was enjoying listening to your voice though. It's been a while since I heard you sing like that."
Quinn blushed a little. "I guess. Hey San." The blonde acknowledged her friend. "How was everything yesterday?"
"All sorted, nothing to worry about."
Quinn turned back to Rachel as Santana cleared away the rolling table with her lunch items. "Really? What about this journalist?"
"It was Jacob. I explained and he agreed to squash it until this is over. He was remarkably amenable once I explained the danger he could place us in. He asked me to send his best wishes to you."
"Is he still a creepy little pervert?"
"No," Rachel said.
"Yes!" Santana contradicted her. "Until we straightened him out. Then he was okay."
"I saw Dave Karofsky too, he's a police officer as well now. Can you believe it? He was very supportive."
"Karofsky? What is it with gay cops in this town? Is it one of the job requirements?" Quinn gave Santana a wink.
The Latina smirked at her. "Funny, Fabray. Keep that up and you're on your own."
-THE VIPs-
Larissa entered the room to laughter and what could only be described as witty banter. She heard the detective snort with derision at something and her patient actually laughed out loud. She guessed they were teasing each other like old friends did.
"Seems like we're all in a good mood this afternoon?"
She received a grin from all three of them to answer her question.
"I guess it's work time?" Quinn sighed a little.
"I'm afraid so. Sorry to break up the party."
Quinn nodded. She took the remote control and started to lower the back of the bed down. "Rach can you pass the shell, please?"
Rachel glanced at the hard plastic brace Quinn was forced to wear for the time being. She picked it up from the easy chair it was lying on beside the bed and unfastened the straps. Larissa walked around the opposite side of the bed and helped Quinn roll onto her side so the brace could slide under her back and then allowed her to roll back into it once Rachel had positioned it properly. Quinn thanked her wife and took the top half, pulling it across her chest and then threading the Velcro through the back to fasten it tightly.
Santana watched through the whole process. She was beginning to understand the new injury better. Quinn was now paralyzed from her chest down. She had no use of her abdominal muscles or the other core trunk muscles that allowed control and balance while sitting. Nor could her friend lean sideways as yet to pick things up. They had left her with not just the board to help her move from one place to another, but also a long handled grab tool so she could pick stuff up when she dropped it. The last thing they wanted was her falling out of the chair in an attempt to grab a fallen remote control or similar. It was painful almost to watch the inert body being moved around.
San found the transfer board near where she was sat. She grabbed it and handed it to Quinn as the blonde raised the back of the bed again ready to transfer back into the waiting wheelchair.
"New wheels I see?"
"Demo chair. I have it for three days."
"How is it?"
"Harder than I remembered," the blonde admitted with a deep sigh. "I'm just less stable that's all."
"It will get easier," Larissa assured her. "A better backrest will help as well. Did you look at what I showed you yesterday?"
Quinn nodded. "Go ahead and order it." She turned to Rachel. "It's kind of solid not fabric. They are a little pricey. I hope it's alright."
"Whatever you need," Rachel assured her. "Well except for the purple leopard skin upholstery."
Quinn just laughed and prepared to move herself into the waiting wheelchair.
-THE VIPs-
Rachel listened to the backing track and sighed. She wasn't happy with it. Firing off an email to her producer, she questioned the ability of the musical director to read simple instructions. A firmly worded email was produced and sent without much of the usual formality that accompanied an email from Rachel Berry.
She placed the headphones down on the desk and ran a hand through her long hair. She waited for news each morning, hoping that the FBI or police would have the information she so desperately needed. It was hard to stay away from everyone. She wanted to go to McKinley and see Mr Schue, she wanted to have dinner at Breadstix and coffee at the Lima Bean. She wanted to be able to live a normal life again.
And then she was wracked with guilt.
It was selfish, she knew that. She was thinking about herself again and not Quinn. When they were apart for a few hours at a time, it was easy for her to forget that everything had changed. Six months ago, they had the perfect life. Living and working in Manhattan, socializing with their friends, going out to dinner most nights, seeing shows together, walking through Central Park, arm in arm. What would they do after this was all over? Would they ever learn to trust a stranger or would they always be looking over their shoulders wondering if the person walking behind them was about to attack without cause. Would they still have friends after leaving town and not telling anyone where they had gone? Even if they did, would they turn away from the couple now that one of them had a disability. Apparently that happened a lot, she had read it in the literature from the support meeting she went to. Would Quinn be able to get into places still in her wheelchair? Would people assume wrongly that Rachel wasn't her wife, rather her nurse now? Why did everything go so horribly wrong for them? What had they done wrong that meant they deserved this? Question after question invaded the brunette's mind but the answers had remained elusive in the weeks since the attack.
-THE VIPs-
Santana and Rachel arrived the following day to see Quinn. Rachel had to support group meeting and so she was safely tucked up with a security guard in the hallway outside for an hour leaving the young detective with spare time for the first time in a week. It hadn't felt like a week, it seemed interminable, not that the Broadway star was hard to spend time with, just the situation; not knowing when or where the problem would be solved.
Santana wandered along to see Quinn in the gym. She was currently strapped into one of the weight training machines. This one had a seat with a high back and a lat pull down bar being tightly gripped by the blonde's hands.
"Bondage from the chastity queen, who would have thought?" Santana bore a Machiavellian grin across her face.
"Seriously?" Quinn puffed in annoyance.
"You're strapped into a torture device, what can I say?"
Hazel eyes rolled in a circle. "Have you just come here to have a dig at me or is there a real purpose to your visit?" Quinn was tetchy.
"Relax, I was just yanking your chain. Rachel's in that group thing with security parked outside so I thought I'd come see how you are."
Quinn squeezed her eyes shut, a little sigh escaping. Her wife had to attend a support group and she was strapped to a chair, unable to move anything from her boobs down all because a monster destroyed their life.
"How am I? Mostly unable, as you can see." A puff of air escaped the pink lips and blew the hair from her eyes as they glanced down at the straps holding her legs and chest in place on the seat. The empty wheelchair sat beside her.
"Q, please don't be like that."
"Like what?"
"I can't stand to see you go there again." Santana dropped into the empty seat of the wheelchair. "Being defeatist isn't going to help, so I have to ask. Has the cheerfulness so far been an act to make your wife feel better?"
"What?" Quinn looked momentarily surprised. "I haven't been faking anything, just today, well it's a month exactly since the …," her voice broke and a tear rolled down Quinn's pale face. She inhaled and gathered herself. "Why does this have to be so hard, San?" she scrubbed at her cheeks to remove the saline.
The Latina, had a neutral expression. "There's no point in asking questions like that, Q. The answers won't make sense or make you feel any better about this. What will make you feel better, is getting back control of things and returning to a normal life."
"But who's to say he'll ever be caught. I don't know that I can live a normal life with the knowledge that he's still out there somewhere. What happens when your boss feels this is going nowhere and decides to end the protection?" The anxiety was clear in her voice. She thought about it often. Late at night, after everyone was gone and she should be sleeping, the thoughts would enter and take root, keeping her awake.
Santana couldn't answer either of those questions. "I don't honestly know, but I am here now and so are you and Rachel. You are safe here and so is she. For now, that's what matters. The rest can keep." Santana gave her a smile. "Come on, Larissa is watching you slack off and looking like she is going to yell. Get pumping iron so you can get out of here ASAP."
Quinn grimaced as she pulled down as hard as she could on the bar overhead for the first of her three sets of twelve repetitions. "Just like back in Cheerios, right?"
"I can get Sue here in a heartbeat if you need some extra motivation, she owes me a couple of favors."
"Er, thanks but I'll pass on that. I would like to see her though, maybe when this is over."
"At the moment we can't really risk telling anyone, sorry about that. It must be hard on you, not having friends around at a time like this."
Quinn shook her head. "In don't really know if we had proper friends in New York. I understand why people find big cities lonely sometimes. Yes it's exciting, but if Rachel wasn't there for work, I don't know I would have wanted to stay after the novelty wore off." Quinn paused to hammer down another set of twelve pulls on the bar before continuing. "I have work colleagues, who I am close to but how do I explain this to them. Just reappear in their lives and apologize for being gone without explanation. I don't think they will want to know me after that."
"They'll understand," Santana could almost feel the burn from the exertion as Quinn quickly ground out her final set.
Larissa wandered back to the station. "Ready for the recumbent bike?"
Quinn pulled a face that said she could live without it but agreed with a sigh.
The physical therapist swung her ponytail behind her as she bent forwards and freed the strap from Quinn's knees while the blonde took care of the one round her ribs. "You alright now?" She eyed Quinn after seeing her visibly upset.
"No, but I'll live. Let's get this over." She dropped the straps into Larissa's hands and motioned with her head for Santana to vacate the chair.
Standing, the slender detective watched as Larissa encouraged her client to transfer without any help. "Ready for this?"
Quinn nodded and took a deep breath before pulling the chair closer. She reached with the near hand to apply the brake and then supported her bodyweight on the same hand whilst reaching over to fasten the other side. It was further and the missing trunk muscles meant her torso bowed as she fumbled to fasten it. Once it was on, the hardest move of all was trying to sit back upright. Quinn pushed down on the seat of the wheelchair and tried to pull her back towards the bench behind her, but it was curved the wrong way and so she had to edge backwards slowly with her hands gradually righting herself.
Santana could see the way Quinn's body refused to work the way she wanted it and she was reminded again, that this wasn't just her legs that were affected but most of her body as well.
Larissa reached in and placed an arm around Quinn's ribs as she saw her triceps wobble in protest at how much work they were being asked to do. She pulled her into place again and told her to rest a moment before continuing. Quinn nodded and straightened her clothing out.
"I just realized," Santana was pointing at her friend. "The chest thingy is gone."
"The TLSO," Larissa nodded. "She's just going to wear it for sitting now, not while working out. We need to wean her off it and improve her core strength."
"I didn't know I still had any," Quinn mumbled and then catching her friend's eye, "sorry, forgot myself there for a moment." She readied herself and then counted aloud. "One, two, three," she heaved herself from the bench across the small gap to her chair, landing slightly askew and on her left hand which caused a momentary panic and correction to pull it out and regain her balance properly. It took a further minute or so to tug her legs into place and adjust her seat until she was comfortable before rolling across to an odd looking contraption. It looked a little like an exercise bike at the gym, but it had weird pedals for the feet with attachments. Larissa began strapping Quinn's left foot to the pedal, the attachment now became obvious, it was to keep the foot in the right place. Quinn waited patiently for Larissa to finish up and placed her hands on another set of pedals. Turning the handles, Quinn forced the machine to move her feet around.
"What's with this gizmo?" the detective asked.
"Just makes my legs move, so I get a workout for my legs at the same time as my arms."
Larissa smiled up at Santana. "It's a good way to keep some muscle tone in the legs at the same time as building arms and shoulder muscles."
"Oh, okay." She looked at her watch. "How long are you in this for?"
"About fifteen minutes today. I keep doing a little more each day."
"Okay, I'll go collect Rachel and bring her back here. Keep up the good work," Santana patted her on the shoulder.
-THE VIPs-
"You all talked out?"
Rachel glanced up at her friend. "Sort of," she grinned a little. "We talked about understanding how our loved ones feel when they are in a wheelchair. The therapist recommended we spend a day in wheelchair to find out."
Santana looked at Rachel and they both shared a knowing grin.
"So, are you going to do it? I don't remember it going too smoothly for you last time."
"Why not, it wasn't so meaningful last time."
"Shit," Santana put an arm on Rachel's. "Artie."
Rachel nodded. "I know he would want to help, but I just can't bring myself to tell anyone, not even people we trust. If anything happens to someone else I care about…." The sentence went unfinished.
"When this is over, he'll be here in a flash. Just wait and see." Santana found herself reassuring the couple constantly. It was a far cry from her previous mannerisms. She thought about how she used to speak to everyone, but especially Rachel. "While I have you here on your own, I just wanted to apologize."
"Apologize? What for?"
"School and shit, you know."
Rachel grasped Santana's arm and looked her in the eye. "There is nothing to apologize for and even if there was, don't you think you being here now sidelines everything else that went before?"
Santana stared at her boots briefly and ran a hand behind her neck, then rather uncharacteristically, she pulled Rachel into a hug and squeezed her really tight. "We're going to get the both of you through this."
-The VIPs-
Judy went first, leaving the men outside for a while. She knocked, though why was a mystery. The ice-cold stone that sat in her stomach lurched. She didn't think she would ever have to do this again. They had to play it cool at home and carry on their normal routine, Santana had been very clear about that. Despite the worry and concern they had felt for a month, neither set of parents had been allowed near their daughters initially. They could do nothing out of the ordinary to alert the man who caused all this just in case he was watching them. The carefully orchestrated plan had been put together by the police and though she seemed to remember he was not a pleasant character during his time at McKinley, David Karofsky would be on her Christmas card list for the remainder of her days.
"Mom?" Quinn gulped as she looked up to see the door open and her mother step through. They hadn't even been allowed to talk on the phone.
"Quinnie," the older woman ran to her daughter who was sat beside the bed.
They embraced and Judy tried not to get overly emotional because in general her daughter didn't like it, but she failed the moment her fingers felt the plastic which encased Quinn's chest. There was no other word to describe what both women did for the next fifteen minutes. They sobbed. Judy bent over for a while and cried, then she sat on the bed and cried and finally she stood and cried for a moment or two more.
When neither of them had any tears left, Judy went to fetch her husband and the Berry's. The men were upset but managed to hold onto their emotions a little better; they still had some tears and sniffing, but not the outpouring that had just preceded them.
Quinn was upset for a while but also eager to show them she was going to be okay, so when Rachel arrived back, she got into bed on her own without needing the board even though her arms were shot from therapy earlier that day.
Santana did some more reassuring with both sets of parents and explained the security detail at the rehab center. It was finally nice to have everyone back together in one room.
Quinn wanted to spend some time with her mom, just the two of them, so Rachel took Richard and her dads for lunch. Santana by default went along as well. When they finally left, Judy stood and went to the window.
"I'm so very sorry, baby. I ….," for a moment she was lost for words. "No one deserves this to happen once, let alone twice."
"Mom, please come sit down. I'll be okay."
"How can you say that? What will happen after you leave here? It's not safe in New York and Lima's police is tiny in comparison. What if he comes back?"
"Mom, please? Santana will be around…"
"I know she means well, but she's just …. well tiny, really."
"That maybe, but she packs a punch. Trust me, I've felt it a couple of times."
Judy looked at her daughter who was grinning.
"Promise me, you will call if you need us. We will go anywhere to keep you safe."
Quinn nodded. "I know mom, but right now, this is the best place for me. Just you wait and see, I'm working hard and I'll be out of here soon."
Judy returned to Quinn's bedside and cupped her daughter's cheek in her hand. "I know you will, sweetheart."
-The VIPs-
While Quinn rested, Judy caught up with the others for lunch then excused herself to go to the bathroom and Rachel followed her. Santana checked it then waited for the women to sort themselves out and fix their make-up.
Rachel saw Judy's reflection over her shoulder.
"When she's ready to leave, promise me you won't abandon her Rachel."
A look of intense pain passed across the shorter woman's face. "I would never abandon her, not for anything."
Judy nodded. "I think you believe that now, but she's worried you will. She's worried that you'll stop seeing her as a beautiful woman because she's disabled now. She thinks you'll tire of her situation and seek out someone else instead."
Rachel looked as though someone kicked her puppy. "I … don't understand where this is coming from…. has Quinn …..has she told you this?"
"No, but I can see it in her eyes. She keeps looking at you to check that you still love her and she wants to see something other than sympathy. She wants to see her wife looking at her and treating her as though she isn't broken."
Rachel put her face into her hands and started crying. She hadn't thought about that.
She felt the older woman place her hands on her shoulders and rub gently. "It's your anniversary this weekend, do something nice and normal. The both of you need to forget about the rest of what is happening around you for a little while and just enjoy each other's company like you used to."
The young detective watched on but kept quiet. Neither of her friends had changed significantly in the intervening years, but she didn't know about their day-to-day existence and had no right to start expressing her opinion about their relationship; it seemed strong, but she couldn't know as much about it as Judy Fabray and she had seen Rachel look guilt-ridden and sympathetic most days since she was given the task of protecting her.
Judy left Rachel a moment longer to gather herself and walked out, placing a reassuring hand on Santana's shoulder before exiting the room.
Rachel turned to look at her. "I just don't know what to do or how to act for the best."
"Just show her that you are still in love with her I guess. I don't really have any experience here to pass on." The Latina shrugged. "Q loves you, you love her. It's pretty simple really. I guess she just needs reassurance about it."
"Will you help me with something?"
"Whatever you need."
"One of our favorite things is to take a picnic in Central Park, but that's not going to happen so I need to bring the picnic here."
Santana looked amused. "I guess you can start with a grocery list and we can go from there."
Rachel gave a sigh of relief. She could do this.
