"You know."
The words echoed emptily for a second. Santana couldn't believe that Doctor Whatever-Her-Name-Is had told him something so deeply personal. Her trust had been violated, and she shuddered, stifling a gasping sob. Even with her eyes squeezed shut as tightly as possible, she could hear Mr. Schuester crying quietly next to her. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands, fists balled and shaking. He couldn't know. She didn't want him, or anyone for that matter, to know the horror of what she had experienced.
"She told you?" she managed to exhale. Mr. Schuester wiped the tears from his cheeks with a handkerchief, sighed, and nodded, driving a new wave of shame and pain through Santana's broken body. She put her unwounded hand to her mouth, tears spilling over and dripping silently down her tan cheeks.
"Oh, Santana…" Mr. Schuester whispered, dropping himself onto the side of Santana's bed. He extended his arms to the broken girl, who sat up and curled herself into his chest. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"Yes, I did," she whimpered, and broke down into body-shaking sobs against the man's chest. "It's… all… my… fault."
"Santana Lopez, look at me!" Mr. Schue stated sharply, causing her to jump and stare at his face. "This is not your fault. Do you understand that? You did not do a single thing wrong. The blame for this lies on that jackass who did this to you. Okay?" She stared at him for a second, before leaning back into his chest. Mr. Schue leaned back onto the bed, still supporting Santana's upper body, and bringing her to rest on his shoulder. "Santana?" She sniffled a response. "Dr. Tayo actually called me in to act as a legal guardian for you." She tilted and looked up at him through teary and cautious eyes. He turned stare down at her." She wants to perform a rape kit."
"What? Why?"
"Santana, you were raped," Mr. Schue said blatantly, feeling the girl on his shoulder twitch noticeably at the word. "If we're going to catch this guy, we need some evidence." Santana didn't respond for a few moments. "Santana, she needs your permission to do it."
"What if I say… what if I say no?" she whimpered.
"Then he goes free," Mr. Schue said openly. "You don't do it, and he'll do this to someone else." Santana inhaled sharply. "You do it, and we can put him away for a long time. He'll never hurt anyone ever again."
"Mr. Schue," Santana asked, pausing for a moment. "W-w-what if I'm too scared?"
"It's okay to be scared… I can stay with you if you'd like…" He felt the crying girl nod into his shoulder.
"Okay, I'll do it."
X
He had held her in the bed for the entire exam, stroking her hair and whispering the most comforting things he could to her, trying distract her from the agonizing probing, swabbing and poking that was going on below the blanket shielding her bruised lower half. She was shaking uncontrollably for the entire time, biting back the flood of sobbing that was threatening to erupt from her. Once the doctors had left her room with the swabs and whatever else they had taken from the broken girl, she finally let all of the emotion out. She screamed, sobbed and pounded her good fist against Mr. Schue, the bed and whatever else was in reach. Not knowing what else to do, Mr. Schue grabbed her arms, pinning them to her sides and wrapped her in the tightest hug he could.
"It's okay, it's all over. No one is ever going to hurt you again, I promise."
"Please, Mr. Schue. I need to get out of here. I can't be in this hospital anymore," she pleaded into his sweater.
"But your mom's not home…"
"I don't care! I have to get out of here! Please take me home!"
"Okay, Santana. Okay. I'll take you home." He had no idea what he was going to do. He couldn't take her to her house, leaving her alone and unprotected. The only thing he could do was… "D'you wanna… stay with me for a little while? At least until your mom comes home?" She looked up at him with grateful eyes, and nodded silently.
"Okay. Let's go home."