"Maybe it was some viral thing that knocked you on your ass for a few weeks," Miguel said as he ran a hand on the underside of Santana's jaw and chin, checking to see if there was any inflammation in her lymph nodes. It had been two days of Santana feeling remarkably better and looking much better. There had been no more coughing up blood, there hadn't been any more restless nights.

Santana gently pulls away from her father and goes back to eating her breakfast, for the past few weeks her appetite had been non-existent. "I've got a meeting with the school today, and then I'm going to see Francesca."

Maribel frowned as she pushed more toast onto Santana's plate, she'd lost weight in the past two weeks and she didn't look healthy. "I'm still disappointed that she wasn't by your side."

"Francesca's busy and she's got this weird thing about germs, like if this was a viral thing, she could have gotten sick. I told her to stay away."

Maribel hummed, "I'm a busy person, and your father's busy and if he was on his ass like you were going to take numerous tests, I wouldn't have left his side for a moment, even if I had a massive court case."

Santana rolled her eyes, "Don't say it."

"Say what?" Maribel asked innocently, staring at her daughter.

"Don't talk to me about Charlie."

"I'm not saying that you should go back and date Charlie, even though I'm sure if you asked she'd say yes—" Maribel began.

"Maribel," Miguel grunted.

"I'm saying you need someone to date who is as devoted as Charlie was to you. I don't think Charlie would have left your side for a moment, in fact I'm surprised she didn't show up."

Santana frowned, "Charlie has moved on, and even if she hadn't I don't think I need someone taking care of me," Santana grumbled stuffing some more toast into her mouth and drinking some of her orange juice. She was beginning to feel like her old self and she had to wonder if Charlie did have something to do with it. "She knows that I have a girlfriend."

"One that you haven't introduced to your parents or friends," Miguel added. "Have you even met her family or friends yet?"

"Et tu Papi?" Santana frowned, "Well, she did invite me to meet her sister and her girlfriend, who are coming to town in a couple of weeks. Francesca's just a private person is all, and she's not exactly close with her family, and that's okay. Look if it makes you feel better, I'll set something up after her massive court case okay? She doesn't need to stress about meeting the parents and work." She frowned as her parents exchanged looks. "Oh, come on. I think that's fair!"

"It is fair. I know you like this woman a lot Santana, but I just feel that maybe you need to take a step back. I mean I know you haven't had anything serious since Charlie, but you've been dating for two years. Charlie managed to get to six months and then she was a fixture in our house. And we liked Charlie, despite the fact that we caught her in her underwear more times than we could count."

Santana's cheeks flushed at the memory, "Well—it wasn't her fault—"

"Of course, it wasn't," Maribel said with a shrug. "We were just happy that you were going through normal things after being kidnapped. But Charlie seemed to understand that more than anything, she was the one who you called after you had nightmares, and she listened or just showed up at three am in the morning and snuck into your bedroom. We did think it was a bit intense for your age, but it was what it was, and given what you went through we were perhaps a bit more permissive then we should have been. But Charlie was good for you, even Emma said so. But your nightmares are back, I hear you up at three am in the morning, moving around your room pacing. You're not calling Francesca—does she even know?"

"Of course, she does," Santana said. "She knows who I am, and what I've been through, but Francesca's not like Charlie. And yeah, she's rough around the edges but she's a good person. And I need someone who is not Charlie." Santana frowns, struggling to find the right words. "When you meet her, that's just who she is. With Charlie—you don't know her like I do, and what you see isn't really what's going on with her."

"Did she hurt you?" Maribel frowned, it would make sense. Santana had talked about how Charlie was in anger management classes.

"She broke my heart twice," Santana says with a wave of her hand. There was stuff about Charlie that she wished she could tell her parents, things that she wished they knew so they would understand why she broke up with her. Though they would probably fall in love with her more. "I'll set up dinner with Francesca, so don't worry about it. I'll see when she's free."

~O~

Sam knocked on Charlie's apartment door, it had been nearly three days since Charlie had been into the office, and he was growing worried about her. Charlie had been doing so well for the past three years, her moods were stable so long as she didn't use her abilities. He frowns slightly when Charlie doesn't open the door and grabs his spare key. Quinn had given it to him for emergencies, and as far as he was concerned this was an emergency.

The door swings open and he grimaces at the bloody handprint that's on the white kitchen counters. He hoped and prayed that Charlie wasn't torturing some poor asshole. He was certain that they were passed this. "Charlie?" He prompts again following the trail of blood to Charlie's bedroom and into the bathroom that was attached. He immediately clasps his hands over his eyes, when he sees Charlie naked in the tub, her shoulder was roughly bandaged, though it looked like blood was still seeping out of it. He pulls his hands free, "Shit, Charlie."

Charlie jerks up her good arm raising up slightly as she looks at Sam for a moment, "Just you," she mumbles. "Go away Sam." She lets out a long hiss as she adjusts her arm.

"No," Sam says forcibly. "I'm not just going to leave. What happened? We're friends, I'm not going to tell anyone. Fuck no one would believe me anyway." He looks at the laptop that's just sitting on the counter and the bloody tweezers that had been tossed there. "Were you shot? Were you doing something illegal again?"

"Santana was sick, so I fixed it."

"What happened?" Sam insisted as he opened his phone, he needed to find a doctor that wouldn't ask questions. But as far as he knew the only person who had connections to such information was Dani Harper. And they had just gotten her out of Charlie's life. But Charlie would probably die of an infection before she died of blood loss. He immediately sends her a text to see what she knew. He flicks her in the forehead, causing her to glare at him. "Tell me."

She was much too tired to deal with Sam's incessant bitching at her, "Santana was getting sick, so I took a look, it was just supposed to be a small look, but they rebuilt it. They rebuilt it, and there were teenagers and children there. I saw it, and I didn't even know I got shot until I got home."

"Did you rescue them?" Sam asks frowning at this. "The kids and teenagers did you—"

"Yes. Told them not to tell anyone. I don't need the government coming after me, my face was covered the entire time. Santana can never know."

Sam swallowed, "And the scientists and guards?"

"Sam." Charlie prompts. Santana had left her, and if she found out now, there wouldn't be any coming back. It was why she hadn't gone to her to begin with. Santana had moved on, and she was happy. She wanted to put all this horribleness behind her, but they would keep on doing it until she stopped them. She'd let it go at Santana's behest all those years ago, but if they were going to keep doing this then she was going to have to keep going after them.

Sam didn't say anything right away. "So, you're like Moon Knight or the Punisher—"

Charlie rolled her eyes, this wasn't a comic book. This was her life. "Shut up Sam."

"I'll have the comics on your desk when you get back but let's get you to a doctor. I mean I hear that there are medical students and like paramedics that sell their services to gang members." Sam said, he paused for a moment. It would be better to do it here. "I'll make some calls. Stay here."