Warnings for mature themes - language, sexual situations, spanking of teens, rape, self harm

Be aware of trigger warning throughout the entire story

Don't own Glee

RATED M with adult content including TRIGGER WARNINGS for this chapter. It's intense, so if you are triggered by these things please BE AWARE OF MY WARNINGS.

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Chapter 11

Santana woke up with a start, and looked around in confusion. She was panicked for a moment, not recognizing where she was. Her eyes focused, and she saw Quinn asleep in the bed next to her. No one else was in the room. They were still in the hospital. She wasn't dreaming, last night really did happen. The Latina sat up slowly. Her head was pounding, and her eyes felt raw like they had sand in them. It was from crying.

"Where are Brittany and Rachel?" She wondered. She got up to use the bathroom, just as a nurse came in the room.

"Oh Mrs. Pierce, you're up. Your daughter went down to x-ray, her wrist was swollen and bruised this morning. Your wife went with her; she asked that we not wake you or your other daughter."

Santana nodded, all business, "Thank you, do you know if they have toothbrushes in the gift shop?"

"Don't worry about buying one; I'll bring you some for everyone." She was young, but professional and trying to be helpful.

Santana smiled at her, "That would be great, thank you. How long ago did they go to x-ray?"

"Not that long ago, they will probably be awhile. In-patients get priority over walk-ins, but it still takes a little time. There is coffee in the family lounge." She finished brightly.

"I could use some coffee."

"Help yourself, and ring if you need anything at all." The busy nurse left the room quickly.

Santana continued to the bathroom to get cleaned up a little before Brittany and Rachel got back.

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The brunette was sitting in the chair, reading a magazine she found in the lounge. She was sipping something that tasted faintly like battery acid. Every sip forced a grimace, but Santana really needed the caffeine if she was going to survive today.

She looked up from the mangled magazine when Quinn groaned. Jumping out of the chair, she made her way to the bedside of her oldest daughter. The usually punk looking girl looked very small and vulnerable in the oversized hospital gown. Despite Santana's mixed emotions about Quinn keeping secrets from her and Brittany, this was her baby. She had been assaulted, and was in pain. She had been raped, and was clearly still suffering the aftereffects.

The Latina mother suppressed the urge to murder Finn Hudson for the 100th time in two days.

Quinn's hazel eyes opened, slightly out of focus, "Mom? Where are we?" she said thickly. Exhaustion was plain in her voice, and written all over her face.

Her mother placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, "We're still at the hospital Quinn. Rachel and your mama went to x-ray," she used her other hand to brush the bangs off her oldest daughter's forehead, "How does you feel?"

"Like I got hit by a truck," The teenager groaned.

Santana chuckled ruefully, "Not far off, you got assaulted by the Jolly Green Giant."

She watched as the events of yesterday played out across her daughter's beautiful expressive face. Santana saw guilt win out over all the other emotions Quinn was obviously feeling.

"Rachel?" Quinn struggled to sit up.

"Take it easy baby girl; Rachel is going to be just fine. The doctors said she wasn't raped. We all got there in time."

The pain burst from Quinn in a sob that seemed to surprise her as much as her mother. Her face crumpled, and she struggled against the hand on her shoulder. Santana reached to comfort her, but the teenager pulled away. She turned on her side, with her back to her mother. Her pain was tangible. It made Santana feel even worse about her angry feelings towards her daughter.

Without thinking, Santana kicked off her shoes and climbed in the bed behind Quinn. She tried to cradle the girl to her chest, but Quinn fought her. The girl edged further away, getting as close to the bars on the other side of the hospital bed as she could.

Santana smiled, Brittany must have put the side rails up on the bed when she got out. She was always so protective and loving. Even in the midst of chaos and crisis.

"Don't touch me," Quinn rasped in a scratchy voice, "I don't deserve your comfort."

"Tough luck kid, I don't agree," Santana wiggled closer, putting her arm around her daughter's slender waist, "Everyone deserves a mothers love and comfort, unconditionally."

The brunette could feel the teenager shaking with the force of her silent tears.

"Let it out baby, we'll get through this. We survived, that's the hardest part. We'll get through this," She cooed to her distraught teenager.

She held Quinn as the girl eventually cried herself back to sleep. Her mother just lie there, lost in her jumbled painful thoughts.

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Santana was still lying there, when Brittany came back into the room. An orderly was wheeling in a very pale, weak Rachel in a wheelchair.

Crystal blue eyes locked on dark chocolate brown eyes, and they could tell they were each locked in their own personal Hell. They didn't even need to speak to each other to communicate the guilt, pain, and personal recriminations they were living with.

The Latina raised an eyebrow in question towards Rachel.

"It's not broken, just a bad sprain. She has a very bad hangover from whatever he gave her though. She's pretty sick and confused this morning," Brittany said softly so only her wife could hear.

"Quinn woke up about an hour ago. She asked about Rachel, and when I told her she hadn't been raped, she completely fell apart. Her guilt is really tearing her up," Santana whispered to Brittany.

Standing on Quinn's side of the bed, Brittany reached over and raked her fingernails through the shaggy hair, "Guilt? What does she need to feel guilty about? She was the one actually raped."

The Latina got up from behind Quinn, and walked towards the hallway, "Can I speak to you for a moment?"

Brittany reluctantly followed Santana out into the hallway. She didn't want to leave either of her daughters for a second, "What is it, San?"

Santana spun around and faced her wife, "Quinn has plenty to feel guilty about, Brittany. She kept this secret for an entire year. She let Rachel date Hudson, knowing what he was capable of!"

Anger flashed in Brittany's blue eyes, "Quinn didn't LET Rachel date him, you and I did that, against our own better judgment, I might add. We both had reservations about him, but we let Rachel date him anyway," She leaned closer to her wife, "I hope to Hell you didn't say that to our daughter!"

The Latina was stung, both by the anger directed at her, and the accusation, "Of course I didn't!"

Brittany turned to go back to Quinn, "Good! Don't, ever! I mean it!"

Santana grabbed her arm to stop her, "What is going on with you?"

The tall blonde scoffed, "Me? I'm not the one blaming our 16 year old for getting raped."

Big, brown eyes went wide in shock, "I am NOT blaming her for getting raped, for God's sake Brittany! You know me better than that! I'm not blaming her for anything. I'm upset she kept this big of a secret from us for such a long time. If we had known about him, Rachel wouldn't have been with him at all yesterday."

"Wow, that sure sounds like blame to me," Brittany scoffed angrily, "What's really going on here Santana? Is it because Rachel is your flesh and blood? Is that why you are treating Quinn differently right now?"

Santana staggered back, like she had been struck a physical blow, "I can't believe you said that to me. I have never treated Quinn anything other than what she is, my daughter, and my baby girl! How could you say such a thing to me?" Tears stung her eyes, and threatened to fall.

Brittany blinked quickly, her anger dissolving at seeing Santana's pain-filled eyes, "San, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," she reached for her wife's hand, but Santana pulled it away, "I'm so angry and frustrated about what happened to Quinn and Rachel. I'm angry at myself, I feel guilty for not pushing Quinn more about the changes she made. I don't know what to do, or how to act. I should never have said that to you, please babe, I'm so sorry."

The Latina leaned against the cold, tile wall and crossed her arms in a defensive stance. She was biting her bottom lip to keep her emotions in check.

The two women stood there; hurt, frustrated, and angry at the world.

The blonde moved forward slowly, moving to take the brunette in her arms. Santana put a hand on her chest to hold her at arm's length, "Don't B," she said regretfully, "Not yet."

Now Brittany bit her bottom lip, but nodded understandingly and moved back a bit, "I know Quinn seems very tough. In many ways she is, but in many ways she so very fragile. You know her, San. If she already is feeling all this guilt, she will pick up on your disapproval, and it will shatter her. I want our daughter back; whole, emotionally healthy. She is going to need both of us. You cannot let her see that you blame her in any way for this. I don't think she would survive it. She adores you."

Santana enunciated slowly, "I Don't Blame Her For Anything," The Latina was trying not to shatter herself, "I'm angry, and I don't know what to do with it," She finished sadly, feeling alone and lost.

She pushed off the wall, with her foot, "I'm going to go and get us some proper food, and coffee. The stuff in the lounge is awful."

Brittany called out, "San, are we ok?"

The Latina stopped, and looked back at her wife. The tall blonde looked heartbroken, and it squeezed her heart, painfully, "I'm sorry, B. Not yet," She watched the beautiful face fall in disappointment and sadness, "We will be, I'm sorry, I just need some time."

She watched as hope filled those beautiful, sky blue eyes. Santana longed to let herself get lost in them. She forced herself towards the elevator. When she was hurt, or upset, she lashed out. None of them could handle the fallout from that. Santana's first job, her most important job, was to be there for her family. Right now, that meant taking a walk and calming down.

Brittany watched her walk away until she disappeared around the corner. She turned to walk back in the room. She didn't notice Quinn quickly shut her eyes, and pretend to still be asleep.

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to be continued...