Well hello! Hope this finds everyone well! I apologize for the long wait for this chapter, but as you can see from my other published works I've been a bit busy. Truth is, this story is getting heavy so I needed a breather to refocus. It was also a super, super busy few weeks here at home - my birthday, father's day, working ... all created the perfect fire storm of busy. But I'm back! July promises to be just as busy with work and vacation (Yay!), and I'm currently trying to re-do the timeline because the ideas they are a flowing! Anyway - special thanks to Lauren for dealing with the rewrites of this chapter over and over. Also to my mom who dealt with me rambling about this chapter for weeks.
Also - short disclaimer. I'm not a medical professional, or a officer of the law. I've done as much research as I could so any and all mistakes are min and fall most definitely into artistic license. As well, still don't own anyone that once appeared on Glee. I do own the girls and the plot. Don't steal. It's mean.
Anyway - on with the show!
Chapter 8
Rachel regained consciousness on the floor, briefly, when she heard someone knocking on the door. She blinked as the pounding became worse and tried to call out, but she couldn't. Her throat burned and felt hoarse, as if she had been laying there for hours. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when the door busted open she suddenly didn't really care anymore. Someone was here. Someone was going to save her. She slipped back into a sleep, briefly as she heard the door smack open.
When she opened her eyes again, a police woman with kind eyes, smiled back at her. "Ma'am? Ma'am? You're okay. We're here to help. I'm Officer Buckley and I'm here to help you."
Rachel cried involuntarily as she moved slightly, attempting to sit up. A searing pain ripped up her back as a scream of agony ripped through her throat and out her lips. "It's okay, darling...you just lay back down," the officer with the kind eyes said. "The EMTs are on their way up upstairs."
The officer, whose name she already forgot, was brushing a cool towel across her forehead. "Mmm, that feels good," Rachel uttered incomprehensibly.
"Can you tell me your name ma'am?" the officer asked as the sounds of people stampeding up the stairs caught her ears.
Rachel blinked several times as she looked at the officer once more. She wanted to indicate in some way that it hurt to talk. Her screams during the-she banished the vision that played in her mind's eye. The screams had taken a toll on her voice.
"Is anyone home with you?" This she could answer. She shook her head 'no" watching the officer with the kind eyes motion to her partner for confirmation. He had searched the apartment before Rachel regained consciousness. When the officer turned her gaze back to Rachel, she saw huge tears streaming down her face. "It's okay, darling," she said. "It's all good. No one's here but us good guys." Rachel tried moving her mouth to say her name.
"Rachel," she breathed, her throat felt on fire, her mouth sore and achy. "My name," she whimpered slowly. "is Rachel."
Fear swept through Rachel's body as the EMT's stormed the room. Their intense looks and protocols in rapid succession- moving limbs, securing neck and shoulders, starting an IV, monitors, wires-told her this was serious. Just as she thought she could bear no more, the EMTs began their countdown. " Three, two, one" and they placed her on the stretcher.
A scream so guttural it surprised even Rachel tore through her. Every ounce of her hurt. Every inch of her skin was aflame. Everything screamed.
Rachel sobbed. She cried because she wasn't going to die, she cried because she didn't know what was next. She cried because it had to be better than this. By the time they got her to the ambulance waiting downstairs, everything was black once more.
Rachel woke up with a gasp. Pain radiated from every part of her body, starting from the tips of her toes to the very ends of her hair. Every bit of her body in between felt like it was on fire, and it was all she could do not to scream at the top of her lungs. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed against the sunlight that was starting to peak through the edges of the blinds in her room and she whimpered when the action caused her bruised and swollen eye to throb in pain. She tried to shift herself on her bed, finding it difficult to do so with her leg in a cast and the remaining parts of her body screaming in agony. Tears piqued the corners of her eyes as she moved slightly and it was only the sound of the door to her hospital room opened that caused her to pause. She held her breath, her heart hammering against her chest as she waited to see who it was. Her mind raced, consumed with the thought and irrational fear that it was Brody - that he had found her and was going finish his assault. The reminders, and images of what he had already done to her had assaulted her over and over throughout the night. Her pain medication had left her dopey, but even they couldn't keep the reminders of what he had done to her.
When she opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the bright lights that were hanging above her. Rachel gasped as her eyes flittered from side to side, taking in the room around her. White painted walls and bright lights, beeps from the monitors that were around her came, blinking lights and numbers filling the screens. She took in a quick gulp of breath as flashes of memories returned to her and she squeezed her eyes tightly closed as realization dawned. Tears piqued in the corners of her eyes as she tried to move her limbs against the bed, grimacing and whimpering as the IV that was in her hand pulled against the tape and skin of her hand. Throbs of pain shot through her arm and leg and she nearly rocketed out of bed when she felt a cold hand touch her right elbow for the briefest of seconds.
"Hold on there sweetheart," the kind, soft voice broke through her haze of confusion and she sucked in another deep breath as her eyes shot over to follow the voice. A older woman dressed in red scrubs stood beside her, her hand still gently placed on her arm.. "You're safe, you're okay..." The woman's kind brown eyes gazed down at her. "Don't move, you're going to hurt yourself more and we don't want that honey," The nurse gently adjusted her pillow before giving her a soft smile. "Just stay calm, everything is going to be just fine."
Rachel blinked slowly as she stared at her. She moved to open her lips, respond to the kind woman beside her but the throbbing in her jaw intensified, a pain that felt familiar in that instance.
"Just stay calm, everything is going to be just fine," the nurse smiled.
"My...girls..." she stammered, finding a strength in herself. Her heart started to race and she immediately started to sit up again. "I need to ... I need to get to my ... to my girls..." her lip trembled and her eyes watered
The door to the hospital room opened, and the sounds from the hallway assaulted her ears .She laid back down and clenched her eyes closed as the tears openly flowed down her cheeks. She felt the cool hand of the nurse on her arm once more as some heavy footsteps joined them. Her eyes flew open as the sounds reverberated in her ears. Memories flashed as the sounds came to a halt, memories of the way he had approached her earlier. Was it earlier? What time was it? Where was she?
"It's okay Rachel," the cool hand of the nurse brought her back once more. "It's just Dr. Paterson -"
"No, no, no, no," she shook as the man came closer in his white coat, with the stethoscope around his neck. "Don't touch me!" she shrieked. "I need to go ... I need to go..." she cried. "I can't be here!"
The cool touch of the nurse left her arm and she raised it for a moment to try and sit up. She cried when the pain spliced through her arm and a sob tore from her lips. Seconds later she felt a calm drift over her, as she lost the will to battle against the people wanting to help her and succumbed to sleep.
"Good morning Miss Berry," Rachel felt herself relax, the breath she was holding left her body as she leaned against the pillow behind her. Dr. Paterson stepped into her vision and she felt her heart rate calm, it wasn't Brody. She could breathe.
She didn't say anything as the older man with greying temples approached her. She winced a bit when he pulled out the chair beside her and the metal of the feet scraped along the linoleum of the floor.
"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked carefully as he pushed his glasses up his nose.
Rachel swallowed after a moment and turned her face so her cheek was resting on the stiff pillow. She blinked slowly as she looked at the older man carefully.
"I...I'm in pain," she whispered.
"We'll get you something for that. What you were given to control the pain has most likely worn off by now so we can have a nurse order you some more," he paused. She nodded as she swallowed once more, her eyes following as he stood up from his chair. "I'm just going to check you over, is that okay?"
She could only nod, but when she did he immediately moved his hand to his pocket and pulled out a small light. Her eyes watered as he shone the light in her eyes, and she tried hard to follow along with his directions. It was bright, and she fought to keep them open under his instructions. Her head pounded excessively, something she had never felt before. She felt a prickling in her toes as she tried to move them, her fingers were easier to curl and uncurl as he instructed. She breathed a sigh of relief when he put the light back in his pocket and exchanged it for a pen, to quickly scribble notes onto the clipboard he had picked up on his way in. She heard him mumbling under his breath as he wrote the notes and she felt herself tense as she waited for what he had to say. She hated doctors, always had. It wasn't her favourite place to be and she avoided it at all costs. She'd only been to the doctors a handful of times since University when a bout of bronchitis had sent her in for a chest infection - with the exception of the prenatal care she had received during both pregnancies. Dr. Paterson's voice broke through her thoughts and she turned her attention to the man beside her.
"How are you feeling now Miss Berry?" he questioned as he put the clipboard down on the small table beside her.
"My head hurts," she mumbled. Her voice felt strained against the words she was speaking, her lips were dry and her mouth parched. She stuck her tongue out slowly to wet the chapped skin and winced when she touched a sore spot that appeared to have a touch of dried blood on her lip. She blinked slowly as the sound of blood rushed to her ears and she forced herself to close her eyes as the light overhead began to sting her eyes.
"It's okay, take a deep breath," Dr. Paterson encouraged.
"My head hurts," she repeated. Dr. Paterson nodded along to the words she was saying. It seemed to her that he understood and maybe knew why.
"When you came in by ambulance yesterday you were unconscious," he started. Rachel sucked in a breath and felt her fingers slowly try to grasp the blanket. Pain from the lack of movement spiked through her extremities. "A team of nurses and myself examined you from head to toe. The EMT's had stabilized your neck and head, along with an IV that we've continued to run. Through the evaluation it was determined that your left knee was out of place, and once a thorough x-ray of your body and a CT on your head were finished we upped your sedation to re-position the knee back into place. As you've noticed it's been casted, along with your left arm in which the x-ray determined that you have fractured the ulna bone," Dr. Paterson paused to hold up his own arm and show her where the bone was located. Rachel's lip trembled and her chest shuddered as she tried to hold in the sob that was lingering in her chest. The pressure of holding back the sob caused her ribs and lungs to ache and it burst forward when she couldn't hold it in any longer. Dr. Paterson gave her a small frown and handed her a tissue from the box that was sitting beside him. She used her right hand to dab at her eyes, wincing at the ache it caused.
"The X-rays also revealed that you have broken two ribs, which we have bandaged to keep them in place."
Rachel slowly nodded. She rolled her head a little bit to the center of the pillow and closed her eyes for a minute as she took in everything he was saying to her. Her lip continued to tremble as she closed her eyes and the tears continued to leak from the corners of her eyes.
"You should know Miss Berry," he continued. "that you did not stop breathing throughout the evaluation or at all during the time which you were sedated or unconscious. That in itself is a blessing."
Rachel opened her eyes and turned to him. "Please call me Rachel," she whispered, interrupting before Dr. Paterson could continue. "Please."
Dr. Paterson nodded. "Of course. An orthopedic doctor will be following you closely for the injuries you sustained to you knee and arm. But we are also quite concerned about some injuries you have sustained to your head. During the CT that we did during your evaluation, we were able to rule out significant injuries. There was no swelling or significant blood on the brain which is a good sign. There was however, a sizeable injury on the back of your head which we had to close during your sedation with staples."
She wrenched her free arm to the back of her head immediately, causing a cringe to cross her features when she moved too fast. Her fingers grazed the area of her scalp where she could feel the few staples along the back of her head. She dropped her hand down after a moment and sighed.
"It shouldn't leave a scar, and if it does it should be covered long term by your hair." She nodded. Her mind was too distracted by the thought of everything she had endured.
"We are most concerned it seems, about the possibility that you have suffered a stage three concussion. Because you lost consciousness for a significant amount of time by our count, and as I said the CT showed no other evidence of fractures or bleeding on your brain, we have determined a concussion is possible. We will be monitoring you closely the next few days to determine any side effects."
She could barely keep up with the words he was speaking. Her head swam and she was beginning to feel dizzy from all the information but now she wasn't so sure what the feeling was from.
"The most important take away Miss...Rachel," he caught himself. "Is that it is most important that you get some rest. We have treated all of your injuries to the necessary extent at the moment and will continue to keep up with a pain medication regiment that will help keep you comfortable so you can heal. You're on the road to recovery Rachel. It's just going to take some time."
She nodded. Her throat was thick with emotion, her eyes filled with more tears. She felt overwhelmed by the information, overwhelmed by the thought of everything Brody had done to her.
"When can I go home?" she asked quietly. "I need to go home to my girls..."
Dr. Paterson's lips formed a firm line. "In order for discharge several things need to be stabilized. At the moment we're most concerned about your head, as well as the amount of pain you have been experiencing. The doctors on your case will meet to establish a plan for discharge. I would expect if all goes as planned it will be within a few days. Now, there are a few other professionals who would like to speak to you, a representative from the social work department would like to speak to you first. But I am going to recommend they hold off for a little while so you can get some rest. I've loaded you down with a lot of important information. Is that okay?"
She gently nodded. A rest sounded good. She needed time to absorb everything he had just told her. Her head pounded and her arm ached along with her ribs. She wanted to be alone right now, not answer more questions.
"Do you have any questions? Myself as well as the other doctors will be by daily to check on your progress."
"No," she murmured. "I just...I want to sleep."
Dr. Paterson turned down the lights on his way out, allowing for a more calming atmosphere in the room. But the softer lights didn't do much for the speed of her heart and the way her mind was turning over the information in her head. He had turned up her medication before leaving, and she waited with baited breath for the liquid gold to spread through her tired and achy parts. She blew out a shaky breath between her chapped lips, no amount of licking or water had brought her relief for the dryness. She desperately needed lip balm, and for a brief second she wondered if that was something she could bother Jessica to bring her. Her breath hitched in that moment, her thoughts halting as fresh tears burned in her eyes. Her lip trembled beyond her control and her good hand, if she could call it that because of the IV, trembled at the same speed. A sob burst forward in that moment as the reality and gravity of everything she had been through in the last 24 hours seemed to come crashing down like an anvil. It was so much to process all at once, almost too much to bear as Dr. Paterson's words played over and over in her mind like a movie reel, only they were inter-spliced with foggy memories of what he had done to her. When she closed her eyes she could see his menacing face above her as he slammed her head against the floor over and over. She saw him cornering her against the door and winding up to kick her in the knee, both memories punctuated by the feelings in her tired and battered body. Another sob rocked her body as she finally let go of everything she was feeling, everything she had blocked out until now. The heaving of her chest caused what she now knew were her broken ribs to ache and the intense twinge did nothing more but cause her to cry harder. She sobbed until her voice was hoarse and her eyes burned. She cried even though she thought she had no tears left. She just cried until finally, she succumbed to sleep.
She knew she didn't pass out, because every so often she heard the door open and close. She had a habit of sleeping lightly, and being in the hospital and so unguarded intensified that. So every time the hinges of the door creaked she quietly waited to see who it was before allowing herself to relax. Each time it was a nurse, checking on her, making sure she was okay and comfortable. If she had passed out she knew she wouldn't remember the checks, because there were periods in her memory that she didn't remember from the past 24 hours. Her sleep was restless, and by the time she heard a tray being slid onto the table beside her she decided to finally stop fighting the inevitable. She waited until she heard the soft padding of the rubber soled shoes to retreat before she opened her eyes. The aroma of the lunch overwhelmed her senses, and her stomach rumbled at the thought of eating something. She couldn't remember the last time she ate, and as she moved herself up on the bed a little she whimpered as she moved her hips and jostled her leg. The pain wasn't as great as before her nap, the medication must have been doing its job. But once she was sitting up enough, her lip trembled when she realized the table was a little too far for her to reach. Tears unintentionally burned in her eyes as she stared at the tray of food on the table. She forced her eyes closed as she gave into her own tears once more. She couldn't even feed herself. The idea of being helpless burned in her chest as she became overwhelmed by a flood of tears. She felt helpless. And she had no idea what she was going to do about it.
A kind black woman in a pant suit knocked on her door sometime after a nurse had come to help her eat. Even though there was a clock in front of her, she had lost all concept of time. Her eyes were beginning to feel heavy once more, and for a brief second she wondered if this was her new normal. She knew nothing of concussions and head injuries, but common sense told her that the exhaustion she felt was linked to the ordeal she had just been through.
"Hello Rachel, my name is Mercedes Jones and I'm one of the social workers here at Brooklyn Hospital," the kind woman came a step closer and Rachel could only nod her head. She chewed her lip as she looked down at her lap, her good hand coming to play with some loose threads at the top of her blanket. She heard the woman place something on the floor beside the chair and make a move to sit down.
There was a brief moment of silence between the two of them. Rachel refused to look up, not wanting to meet the eyes of the woman beside her, kind or not, on her side or not. Given the experience she had had with social workers the last few days - she couldn't finish the thought without her throat swelling and getting thick as tears seemed to build. She felt the woman - Mercedes - eyes on her for a moment and she felt like she wanted to drown.
"It's okay if you don't want to talk Rachel," Mercedes started gently. "I know you must be in a lot of pain right now, so I won't stay long today."
Rachel heard Mercedes shuffle in the chair beside her, but didn't turn to look at the woman beside her. "As a social worker, I'm here to support you. All of us are here to support you, help you and keep you safe." When Rachel didn't turn to look at her, Mercedes continued. "Are you comfortable Rachel? Is there anything I can get you right now?"
Rachel dragged her eyes, finally, to look over at the kind woman beside her. But she didn't say anything else.
"I know it's hard right now Rachel, but it's going to be okay. We're going to make sure of it," Mercedes affirmed. "We are here, for you."
She was running. She felt her feet moving, but she didn't know where she was going. She didn't recognize where she was, her surroundings didn't look familiar. She was running for her life, and she heard feet behind her. She felt heat on her back and she didn't want to stop running. Her chest heaved and burned but she kept running. She heard the feet catching up to her and in response she tried to get herself to move faster. But the floor seemed to open up and become sludge, making it hard for her feet to move.
And then the screams started.
"Mommy, Mommy! Help us Mommy!"
She tried to turn her body, run back in the direction she heard the voices coming from. She whipped her head around and found her girls standing amongst flames, their shrieks and cries almost muffled by the roars. Her heart sped up in her chest as she tried to turn around and get to them. She heard Ayla's sobs while Ione continued to shout her name. Until it stopped. She looked up and saw Brody holding her up by her arm, the arm he had grabbed a few nights ago. The look of terror on Ione's face said it all...
Rachel's eyes flew open and her breath rushed forward. She fought against the IV that was restraining her against the bed as she tried to slow her racing heart. It was a dream, it was all a dream. Her lip trembled and her hands shook as a few tears spilled out of her eyes. She clenched them shut against the light and tried to steady her breath. The girls were okay, she tried to tell herself. They were at school. They were safe. Her heart beat didn't slow because thoughts of how Brody had found them at the school flew through her mind and a scream ripped from her lips, combined with a sob as the same feeling of helplessness took over. Sobs ravaged her whole body, and her chest heaved.
"Rachel, Rachel, it's okay. Rachel..."
She recognized that voice. She caught herself mid sob and her chest seized. Her head flopped to the side violently at the sounds, and the voice that sent jolts through her veins.
She blinked a handful of times and as her eyes focused on the two older people sitting beside her, hands clasped together as they perched on their seats she felt the sob she had caught in her throat erupt as her eyes came face to face with two people she had never imagined to see at her bedside.
Her parents.
The sob that came tumbling forth felt like it was destined to split her vocal chords, her chest, her heart - anything. She sobbed until her throat couldn't make another sound, until she felt the dryness envelope her being. She felt the tears running down her cheeks as she looked at her parents and watched through glassy and tear-filled eyes as her Mom's cheeks in an instant seemed to become a flood of her own tears. The older woman, took only a moment to lean forward and try to touch her - but against her own volition, Rachel flinched and pulled her good hand back.
"Rachel," her mom's voice was soft, laced with the tears that had yet to start flowing down her cheeks. "Rachel it's me...it's...me...Mom."
Rachel dug her teeth into her lip as she turned head away from her parents, piercing hard enough to draw blood from the cut that hadn't yet had enough time to heal to protect itself. She closed her eyes tightly as she heard her parents whisper to each other; soothing words that only forced her heart and chest to ache. Her own lip trembled as she squeezed her eyes closed tighter, the throbbing in her eye nothing against the ache she felt elsewhere.
"Oh sweetheart," she heard her Mother hiccup. She felt her mother's cold, clammy hand come in to contact with her wrist just then - and this time she didn't flinch.
She cried as she felt her mother rub her thumb up and down her wrist, avoiding the IV line and her fingers all at once. "It's okay. It's going to be okay..." she whispered.
Rachel slowly turned her head once more so she was facing her parents. Her lip trembled as she slowly blinked and allowed her eyes to focus once more.
"Mom," she whimpered slowly. Her eyes welled when she watched her Mom's eyes well once again. "How...how did you..." her words came out in a slurred stumble. Her voice starts to raise an octave as the tears burned. "How did you..."
She broke down in that moment. The sobs took over in an instant and she couldn't control them, though she wasn't doing the greatest job of holding them back before. Her mom was out of her seat immediately in a blink, her arm gently enveloping her around her head in a way that didn't disrupt her too much. She grabbed her hand in that moment and squeezed as she just lets herself cry.
She hadn't seen her parents in years. She wasn't sure in that moment how they got there, how they knew where to find her but for just a second all the questions she had, that burned on her tongue were pushed to the very back of her mind. She whimpered as she felt her mother brush her fingers through her surely tangled hair, wincing only when she got close to the tender spot of her head where the staples were. Her mother pulled back almost immediately, but Rachel squeezed her hand tighter as she forced her eyes open.
"I got you sweetheart," she whispered. And the sobs started anew.
Her parents didn't like Brody. They'd met him once, shortly before she was due to move to New York with him. The abuse had already started, but it was easy to hide. A punch here, a trip there, expensive cover-up and strategically placed bracelets and other jewelry (that he usually bought her after a beating) kept her covered mostly. They had begged her, during that trip - not to follow him to New York. Even though they lived in Ohio and New York was actually closer, they didn't like the idea of her uprooting herself and Ione to follow him. She had fought back then. Firmly believing that a better job, even more money, a change of scenery - anything - would be better for her growing family.
She sobbed as her mother held her, her father still sat stoically in his chair. Her mother continued to run her fingers through her hair in a soothing manner.
She hadn't seen them since that day. For a few months she'd stayed in contact, sending Ayla's birth announcement through the mail - keeping up with them until things really got bad. She shivered as the memory of the first real beating she got after she'd given birth to Ayla, the way she felt as he punched her in the face - he had left marks on her skin - it had started because he had seen her parents repeated calls on her phone. He had gone out and gotten her a new cell phone the next day, as she stayed in and tended to the girls. The calls had stopped shortly after that. He had changed her number then, and without words forbade her from contacting them again.
Their moment was interrupted when a firm knock came at the door. Rachel went rigid in her mother's arms. She watched with wide eyes as her father stood up silently and went to the door. He squared his shoulder's before opening the door. In that moment, strangely enough, Rachel felt her first wave of comfort; the first in what felt like years.
But what she hadn't anticipated was her father coming back into the main part of the room, followed by two police officers. He wordlessly sat back down in his chair while the two uniformed officers stood to the side. Rachel tried to sit up and grimaced when she moved her arm. Her mother clasped her hand tighter as the two officers took a step forward, the one with the kind eyes that she remembered from the day before pulled a notebook out of her pocket.
"Rachel Berry? May we speak with you for a few minutes? About what happened yesterday?" She didn't remember the officer with the kind eye's name, but the green eyes and black hair were what reassured her it was the same woman.
"Rachel?" her mother breathed as she turned to face her. Rachel saw the questions etched on her features.
Her father's voice broke through before she had a chance to say anything to the officers in front of her. "We're not leaving. I'm not leaving my daughter." He stood up, towering over her and coming to stand beside her mother, between her and the officers. He crossed his arms over his chest, but didn't look at her. It was a stance she had seen many times when she was younger, it had made her feel protected and loved. She wasn't sure what it made her feel now.
"Sir, we just want to ask her a few questions regarding..." the taller, darker, male officer stated. "We have some reports that we need to fill out and..."
"Can't it wait?" her father responded. "She's just woken up and my wife and I..."
"Daddy," she tried, softly. "Daddy, it's okay..."
Her father turned on his heel to face her for a second. In that first moment she saw the protective look in his eyes. She was immediately taken back in that moment to when she was smaller, when she was just like her girls. Her lip trembled.
"Daddy, I can," she swallowed hard. "I can talk to them..."
"Songbird," he sighed, his voice flowing around the childhood nickname she had been given. Her lip trembled.
She had waited years to hear that again. She cried, with the officers standing awkwardly around the three of them for a few moments as her father bent at the waist and carefully enveloped her in a hug. "It's okay Daddy," she whimpered. "I'm okay."
Her parents left, hesitantly at best, to go get a coffee while she spoke to the officers. They had fretted over her in the moments before they left, her mother especially, fixing her blanket and making sure she was comfortable.
"We won't stay long this afternoon, Miss. Berry," the one officer started. "You may not remember us, but I'm Officer Buckley and this is my partner Officer Duncan. We were..."
"The officers who saved me last night," Rachel answered softly. Her eyes dropped to the fringe of her blanket.
Both Officer Buckley and Officer Duncan gave her a small, professional smile. "We just have a few questions about yesterday. Do you feel well enough to answer them for us?"
She bit her lip slightly, curling her fingers around the blanket for support. She half wished she hadn't asked her parents to leave. But she didn't want them to hear what had happened. Not yet. Not like this.
"Miss Berry?" Officer Buckley stated. "Are you up to it?"
"Yes." The word slipped from her lips quickly, before she could think about it further. She took a deep breath and tried to suppress the grimace the act caused for her ribs. "I am. For a little bit..."
Both Officer Buckley and Officer Duncan nodded before they each turned back to the notebook Officer Buckley held out.
"Now Miss Berry, why don't we start at the beginning. What do you remember about the incident that occurred in your apartment yesterday?"
Her parents brought back armloads of magazines, flowers and even a crocheted blanket. She tried to smile at the gesture, but it felt foreign with the tears running down her cheeks. She lifted her good arm to wipe at the tears that were starting to dry on her cheeks.
"What's all this?" she questioned quietly as they put the gifts down on any available space they could find in the small room. She watched as her dad brought the flowers down on the ledge. Her mother flittered around the room, before finally settling down in the chair she had abandoned earlier. Rachel watched as she rubbed her hands over her jean covered legs. She remembered it being her mother's nervous tick, something to do with her hands when she didn't know what else to do.
"Just a few things...you know...keep you occupied," her mother tried. "You've got to be bored..."
Rachel slowly nodded. She hadn't had time to be bored. She'd slept away most of her boredom. She was fighting against her sleep right now, but she wanted more than anything to just be with her parents right now. The tears welled in her eyes as her Dad returned to his seat and casually slung his arm around her mother.
"Oh Rachel, sweetheart don't cry," her mother soothed. She moved forward in moments, pulling her chair so she was just sitting on the edge of her chair. She raised her hand to brush her tears.
"I'm okay," she whispered. She forced a smile to her lips. "I'm just really glad to see you right now..."
Her mother brushed her hair back gently, and stared at her intently.
"Mom," she started quietly.
"I just want to look at you for a minute," she whispered. "Your poor face baby," she whispered. She gently dragged her finger over the bruises and swollen areas of her face.
"I'm okay," she tried again. "I'm just so glad to see you guys," she whispered. "I don't understand though how..."
"Don't worry about that now, sweetheart," her mother cooed. "What matters is that we're together now and we're here to help you through...through this," she trailed off as her eyes turned to look at her casted arm and leg. "Isn't that right Leroy?" Her mother turned back to look at her husband. "Leroy?"
"Yes," he shook his head as he pulled his chair forward as well. "We're here with you, we're together..." his voice trailed off as he leaned forward and gently patted the bed beside her.
A hush fell over the three of them for a few beats. Rachel's mind swirled as she stared at her parents, the unanswered questions were running rampant. She had so many questions but she couldn't find the voice to ask them. She just felt...she just felt relief. She sighed as she leaned back on her bed more comfortably and closed her eyes for a moment to rest them from the overhead lights.
"Do you need me to turn down the lights sweetheart?" her mother pressed.
"I'm okay Mom," she answered slowly, with her eyes still closed. "I just need a minute..."
She couldn't see it, but she knew her mother nodded. Memory told her that.
"Shelby, we need to ask her..." she heard her father complain through hushed tones."If it was that son of a bitch who did this to our baby I'm going to..."
Rachel opened her eyes slowly and turned to look at her parents. They were turned towards each other, their heads close. She swallowed hard before turning away, her eyes glancing at the clock on the wall. It was later than she thought, and she wondered if Jessica would bring the girls by. As she yawned, she thought about how she should call her to check up on them - see how things were going. Her heart hurt when she thought about the girls.
"Rachel," her attention was drawn back to her parents.
"Songbird, who did this to you?" Leroy asked directly. She watched as he squared his shoulders just like he had done when he answered the door for the police. She was taken back in that moment to the way he had looked at her when they tried to talk her out of going to New York. As her parents only child, she was used to them being overbearing and protective. Now she wished she had let them be. Maybe she wouldn't be in this position now...
Her father leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "Was it...was it him Songbird?"
Rachel felt her throat tighten as she met her father's gaze. She thoughtlessly pulled at a few loose threads on her blanket with her good hand.
"Daddy," she started. Her voice went soft and she dropped her eyes. She felt the tremble in her lip and the tears starting in the corners of her eyes. She found it hard to believe she had anymore tears to cry. "Daddy," she whimpered as the tears started to spill. She leaned her head back on the pillow once more and closed her eyes as sobs started all over again. That was all her parents needed to know.
Rachel heard one of the chairs scrape against the floor, and she flinched at the noise. But she still didn't open her eyes.
"I'm going to kill him, Shelby. I'm going to kill him," she heard her father seethe.
"Leroy," her mother's voice held a warning tone and Rachel squeezed her eyes tighter in response.
"Shelby, he DID this to her. Look at her!" he snapped.
"Leroy," she tried again.
"Shelby, I can't just sit here and..."
His voice became muffled to her in that moment, and as Rachel opened her eyes, she was able to see her father stomp out of the room.
"Mom?" she called quietly. Her mother's back was to her, facing the door. In that moment she turned on her heel and offered her a big smile.
Shelby straightened her sweater and took a deep breath before taking a step forward to be closer to her once more.
"Daddy just needed to step out for a moment," she smiled, trying to reassure herself at the same time. Rachel could see the concern in her eyes. "He'll be back. It's okay." She patted the side of her bed, and used her hands to smooth out the blanket.
They were quiet for a moment as Rachel watched her mother. She wouldn't meet her eyes for a few minutes, focusing on the blanket and other menial things for a few minutes. "Daddy will be back," she repeated. Shelby pulled her eyes up to face her in that moment. She saw her mother's features falter for a moment as she stared at her. Rachel knew the bruises held her attention, and she could sense all the questions her mother wanted to ask but she held her tongue.
Her Mom's eyes lit up after a moment, interrupting her train of thought. "How are the girls!?" she exclaimed suddenly. Her hand went to her chest. "They must be gorgeous! And so big!" she clapped almost too excitedly. "Tell me! Oh I can't wait to see them!"
Rachel pushed a long breath through her lips. "They're...they're amazing and..." her voice trailed off for a moment while she tried to determine how exactly to describe her perfect girls to her mother. "They're just so good," she murmured. "They're the reasons I stayed," she revealed quietly.
Her father returned after some time, his eyes red rimmed and his fists clenched. It was a different image than she was used to, than she remembered from her younger years. It seemed like such a distant time ago now, when things were more simple. She couldn't help it as she looked at her father, with his squared shoulders and his need to feel and look tough and together - her lip trembled and her eyes watered but she tried to keep it in. Her mother had gone out into the hallway to answer a phone call and she had a minute to just be with her father.
"Daddy," she whispered. She didn't mean for it to come out like that, so soft and childlike and sad. She couldn't help it if that's all she felt at the moment - every ounce of her body felt it.
"Songbird," he murmured. He took a tentative step forward before turning his head and looking back. Most likely to see if her mother was coming in.
They had been close, growing up. The three of them were a tight little unit and nothing was a secret. They did everything together. Everything until she went to school and she let him come in between them. A wash of disappointment flooded over her and she dropped her eyes to her hands.
He approached her, but didn't sit down on the chair he had vacated hours ago. He stood next to her, before he knelt so that he was eye-level with her. She cringed because for a nanosecond she worried about his knees that had always been bad. But it changed when he reached forward and gently took her hand in his.
"It's going to be okay, Rachel," he sighed as he squeezed her hand gently. "Mom and I are going to take care of everything - everything is going to be okay."
She didn't say a word, Because as she looked at her Dads eyes, for a minute she believed it was true.
A commotion in the hallway caused the moment to break. Her father stood up and brushed off his knees as her mother came fluttering back into the room, a calm smile on her features.
"Well, that was Aunt Nancy - she sends you her love for a speedy recovery," her mother smiled. "She's taking care of our dog - Baxter is his name," she smiled. "She just wanted to check in." She approached the bed and stood beside her dad. Rachel tried to smile. She hadn't seen her Aunt Nancy in years.
The clamor in the hallway got louder, and Rachel could almost hear Ayla's voice in the hallway. Rachel tried to sit up on her own, and in an instant her father's hand was around hers, and helped her sit up. She smiled at him gratefully as they all waited with baited breath for the door to open. She chewed her lip as she stared at the door. She felt herself start to hyperventilate. She had only seen them last night, but she had to know - had to see for her own eyes - that they were still okay. Her heart raced as the door opened and the girls slowly started to walk in.
Her eyes watered when the girls walked in, Jessica behind them. Both of them carried handfuls of flowers, their backpacks still firmly attached to their backs. Their clothes were different, new, and she suddenly felt very grateful for the friend she had in Jessica. She had thought of everything in such a small timeframe.
But the girls stopped short in the doorway when they saw her parents, who to them were complete strangers.
"Mom..." Ione's voice was quiet, and she could barely hear it over the bunch of flowers she had pulled up to her chin.
"I'm here baby," she answered quietly. "It's okay to come closer," she tried to encourage. "It's okay..."
She watched as Ione lowered the flowers and stared at her from where she was standing. Rachel lifted her arm as the girls gazes continued to pierce her skin. Ione took the first step forward, and she heard her mother audibly sigh as she took the tentative steps forward.
"Mr. Hudson's in the hallway," she murmured. "He drove us cause it's raining," she mumbled as she shifted the bunch of flowers in her hands. "Says its going to get icy cause it's not supposed to rain this much in January," she rambled. "These are for you...I picked them out and Ayla has some too..."
Her voice trailed off then, as if the reality of the moment was catching up with her. Her eyes dropped as she clutched the stems.
"Mom," she asked quietly. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "Who are these people?"
Rachel reached her hand out and gently pushed the loose strands of her hair back. Jessica had obviously done her hair this morning, a messy french braid was what was left. She smiled slowly as she tucked it behind her ear with her good hand. Her parents had taken a seat and pushed their chairs back when Ione had approached. Rachel could feel their gazes on them, and she noted the tremble in Ione's hands.
"Ione, they're...they're my parents," she answered quietly. Ione gave her a critical look. "It's okay. They're here...they're here to help us..." Ione still looked unsure but turned her head to slowly catch first Shelby's and then Leroy's eyes. Her head whipped back and caught Rachel's. Her eyes were wide and she could see the wheels turning.
"Mom," her voice dropped again.
"Ione," she whispered. "Everything is going to be fine."
But Ione didn't look too sure.
Ayla came forward then, while Jessica hung back at the doorway, leaning her shoulder on the wall. Rachel could sense the hesitation in her steps. She tried to give her an encouraging smile, the same smile she had given Ione but Ayla's steps seemed to be slow. Calculated. It made Rachel want to cry.
"I brought you flowers too Mommy," she whispered. "Pink ones. Because pink is my favourite colour and I wanted you to remember that."
Rachel chuckled slowly as she raised her good hand to wipe at the tears that had sprang to her eyes. "They are gorgeous, baby. Both of them are. Ione, do you think you can put them down next to the ones Nana and Papa brought?" She looked over Ione's head and watched as a small, touched smile played on her mother's lips and her hand went to clutch her chest.
Ione slowly nodded, but continued to give a critical and protective glance the entire way.
"Are they Nana and Papa, Mommy?"Ayla asked quietly when Ione made it back to her side. Rachel moved to push her hair behind her ear, much in the same fashion that she had done for Ione moments before.
"Yeah. They're Nana and Papa," she whispered.
Her mother's chair scraped against the floor and she stood up, taking the one step it would take to cross the space. She knelt down in front of them, but didn't say anything. The room was silent, save for the beeping that came from the monitors beside her bed. Rachel waited with baited breath for someone to say something, her Mom, the girls, even her Dad. But everyone stood still, wordlessly starring at each other - the girls no doubt sizing up the woman in front of them.
"You look just like Mommy," Ayla whispered first, her hands twitching at her sides.
Ione remained quiet. Rachel could see from her vantage point that she was chewing her lip.
"What took you so long to come help us?" Ione stammered quietly before the tears erupted and she ran for the door, Jessica on her heels.
