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Santana woke up Monday morning feeling anything but chipper. Her window didn't have shutters or anything like that so the sunlight shone right in her tired little face, hurting her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, groaning. It felt early. It felt too early. Too early for anyone to be awake and she was too tired to look over at the clock.

Reluctantly, Santana sat up and glanced at that clock on the desk with sleepy eyes. It was 9:15 a.m. She had to be ready to start her job as a slave in an hour.

Slowly, she stood up, dragging her feet across her tiny room to the even tinier bathroom that was attached to it. She combed through her dark hair and brushed her teeth. She didn't even bother putting anything on other than mascara. She wasn't in the mood to go full-glam.

Santana opened her closet and groaned even louder. She looked through her three whole three outfits.

"Hmm, what to choose, what to choose…" she tapped her chin, "I don't know, Santana, what do you think we should wear today? There's ugly and there's uglier. My, my do we have a lot to choose from…" she said to herself sarcastically.

She reluctantly pulled the dress from the hanger, realizing she was short on time and put it on. She tied the laces of her god-awful white Keds and she was ready for business. But before she left the room, she grabbed her folder with all of Rachel's information. She opened it and fingered through the papers until she found the one she was looking for.

"Okay, let's see…10 o'clock, brunch with patient followed by medications at 10:15. 11 o'clock, take a walk in the garden if patient wants, if not, then you are allowed to spend time with the patient in their room until noon for lunch. After lunch, there is therapy from one to two. 4 o'clock is when special events occur, plays, games, movies, etcetera…then dinner at six and from eight to ten patients are allowed free time while supervised with an aid." Santana finished reading her schedule and hit her forehead with the folder.

"Kill me." She huffed from behind the folder. She looked at the clock and saw that she had seven minutes to check in and take her patient to breakfast.

"Oh, crap." And she raced out the door.

She went down to the lobby to clock in, making it just in time, before heading to the second floor. She walked down the hallway, looking for room 232. She found it hard to concentrate on the room numbers, because of all the people parading down the hallway, everyone of them crazier looking than the last. There was a boy who looked about fourteen who was in a handstand up against a wall. There was a middle aged woman who was biting at her arm. It was all so strange that Santana almost missed room 232.

She was about to knock on the door when she stopped herself. There was noise coming from the room. Singing…really beautiful singing. She peeked through the doorway, which was already slightly open, to see where the singing was coming from. She couldn't see anything, so she quietly pushed open the door further. The girl had long dark hair, and Santana couldn't see her face because she was staring out the window.

Santana had never heard of a voice like that before. It was soft and light, but so strong and full of soul. It was like her voice was cradling each word, gentling caressing it to make this beautiful sound. Santana hadn't felt her feet move forward, but she had realized that she was walking into the room until her foot accidentally kicked aside a wastebasket, making a startled Rachel Berry turn around in surprise.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Santana apologized, picking the wastebasket up.

She looked back up and she saw Rachel standing there. She just stared, her mouth slightly ajar, the only movement coming from her were her eyelids blinking.

Say something Santana, maybe if you say something, she'll say something.

"You have an awesome voice." She tried.

Nothing. More blinking.

Just…start over. "Hi, you must be Rachel," Santana walked toward the girl, "I'm Santana, I'm your new aid. I was just coming to take you to brunch when I heard you singing…your voice, I've never heard anything like it."

Still nothing. Santana was almost losing her patience with this girl. She huffed. "Well, let's go to brunch then." She turned on her heel and headed to the door.

"Interesting."

Santana stopped. She turned back to the girl. "What?"

"Your name, it's interesting. I've never heard anything like it." Rachel said, her face less frightened.

Santana smiled when she realized the girl had said the same she had said to her. She laughed. "Yeah, me neither."

Rachel tucked a hair behind her ear before walking toward Santana. "So, you're going to take care of me?"

The Latina smiled. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Santana and Rachel ate brunch in the commissary together, each eating their own bowls of oatmeal. They didn't talk at first. Santana just watched Rachel while she cautiously ate her food, hesitating each time before she put the spoon in her mouth.

"I like your necklace," Santana pointed to the other girls' neck. It was as small golden charm on a golden chain, she thought it was pretty but she was just using it as an excuse to make the situation less awkward.

Rachel automatically looked down to her neck, as if she had forgotten about the piece of jewelry. She brought handled the charm with her delicate fingers.

"Thank you," she said, timidly, "Gold stars are kind of my thing." She smiled softly.

The other girl smiled back.

"How was your oatmeal?" Santana asked, seeing that the girl had nearly finished the whole bowl. "I can go get you some eggs or something if you'd like?"

Rachel shook her head. "No thank you, I'm quite alright. I don't eat eggs anyway."

"You don't eat eggs? Why not?"

"I'm a vegan." Rachel said plainly.

"A vegan? That's cool. I've never met a vegan before. When did that start?" Santana asked.

"When I was seven, I went on a school field trip to a dairy farm, and once I saw how horrific those poor animals were being treated, I became a vegan. I'm quite happy with that choice." Rachel shyly put a piece of hair behind her ear.

A couple minutes later, Santana had finished her brunch and they returned back to Rachel's room. Pulling out her schedule, Santana read the next task and quickly folded it and returned it to her dress pocket. Rachel sat on her windowsill while Santana walked back to the door.

"I'll be right back, okay? I'm just going to gown down to the pharmacy to get your medication." Santana informed her cautiously.

Rachel turned around and smiled. "Okay."

Santana had felt awkward saying the word medication in front of Rachel. She had thought back to what Quinn was telling her yesterday.

She's the craziest one here.

So far, Rachel seemed more shy than crazy. But, she couldn't help but feel bad about her having to have someone take care of her and give her meds. She must feel incredibly terrible.

She wanted to get to know Rachel more. It was only the first time meeting her, but the way she hesitates before everything and the constant frightening look in her eyes every time she asked her a question, made Santana feel like there was definitely more to Rachel than anyone would see upon glance.

She reached the pharmacy window, where a twenty-something guy asked for Rachel's patient information and gave Santana four pills in two little cups. She took the two cups and returned to room 232. When she got there she saw Rachel sitting in the same spot she was in when she left.

"Hey, Rachel, here are your pills." Santana said, handing the girl the cups, not really knowing if there was a certain way to go about this.

"Thanks." Rachel took the pills, swallowing all four individually. Her face was blank.

Santana wanted to know what she was thinking.

"My supervisor said we can take a walk through the garden if you want." The Latina informed the motionless girl.

"No, thank you. I'd rather just stay here." Rachel replied, her eyes not leaving the window.

Santana walked up behind her, trying to see what she was looking at. Her room over looked the whole parking lot and some of the freeway in the distance. Santana had an idea of what she was thinking. She couldn't imagine how hard it must be to watch other people come and go and drive around when she was stuck here in the nut house.

"Okay." Santana couldn't leave her, so she just sat down in an empty chair next to the bed.

The two sat in silence for a while before Rachel startled Santana by speaking up.

"How old are you?"

She looked at Rachel. Her eyes still frightened, bit sincere. She was playing with the ends of her hair, as if she was nervous.

"I'm seventeen."

Rachel smiled. "Me too."

Santana nodded, even though she felt kind of awkward. She could barely take care of her little brother when she babysat him. How was she supposed to look after someone her own age?

"Where are you from?"

"Columbus."

Rachel's eyes lit up a little. "How far away is that?"

Santana shrugged. "A couple hours," Santana smirked at her, "I take it you've lived here your whole life?"

Rachel just nodded. "I've wanted nothing more than to just leave and never come back." She turned her attention back to the window.

Santana was puzzled by what Rachel had said. She could sense a lot deeper meaning than Rachel was letting on.

"Why'd you come here?" Rachel asked.

Santana turned her head. "Hmm?" she replied, not really listening.

"Why did you come here, to the Institute? If you were from a big city, why did you ever want to leave?" Rachel had such curiosity in her voice, as if she truly was amazed anyone would ever come to such a small place, it was so innocent.

Santana laughed. "Well, first of all, Columbus isn't even that big of a city," Her mood suddenly changed mid-sentence. She crossed her arms and huffed, "and second of all, I didn't choose to leave. I was forced to leave."

"Forced to leave?" Rachel asked with those innocent eyes.

"Yeah, I got in a shit-load of trouble and now I'm on probation. I'm working here as my community service. It was either this or jail."

Santana wondered if her answer had made Rachel feel like she didn't want to help her, but she was mistaken when the girl started giggling.

"This might as well be jail." Rachel laughed louder, her smile bigger than Santana had seen earlier. It made Santana start to laugh too.

Rachel stood up from the windowsill and sat down on her bed, leaning against the pillows. The bed was just like Santana's only instead, it was sticking out the middle of the room, rather than having one side up against the wall. The walls were the same boring beige, but instead they were decorated with posters of people and plays she had never heard of before. On the bedside table was a Hello Kitty alarm clock and a small lamp with pink and yellow tassels. It looked more like a room decorated for a seven-year-old and not a seventeen-year old.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed at you getting in trouble." Rachel grabbed a teddy bear from the bed and put in her lap, squeezing it for comfort.

Santana shook her head. "No, it's okay. I needed the laugh." She sat down on the foot of the bed, giving her and Rachel a good enough space between them.

Santana was itching to ask her a certain question, not knowing if she was crossing a line or not. She had just met the girl. She didn't want to pry.

She asked anyway. "Rachel, does anyone ever visit you? Your family?" Santana had sense she had hit a spot when she saw Rachel wince.

The girls shook her head. "No, no one ever visits me."

Feeling bad, Santana had decided to let it go, but Rachel continued.

"My parents dropped me of here and never came back."

Santana's mouth was open wide. Thinking it was rude, she closed her mouth and apologized. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It was years ago. I've moved on from them." She clearly hadn't. Her eyes were slightly watery.

Santana didn't know what to do in this situation. But when she was about to say something, her watched beeped, signaling that it was time for lunch.

The two went back down to the commissary, picking out lunch foods. Lunch was quiet. Neither of them spoke and Santana thought she had pushed Rachel too much. She should have known, though. Rachel was a patient. And as normal as she sort of seemed to Santana, she had to have been there for some reason. Santana didn't have the right to ask something so personal.

After lunch, was Rachel's therapy session. The therapy room consisted of nothing but two couches facing each other, with a coffee table in the middle. Rachel and Santana sat on one couch while her therapist, Dr. Folk, asked her a bunch of therapy-type questions.

"So, Rachel, how have you been adjusting to your new medications? Okay, I hope?" Dr. Folk asks her at the beginning of the session.

Rachel nods, not saying anything.

"Good. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your hallucinations you had experienced couple months ago? Have those gone away or do you still experience them from time to time?" He asks the brunette.

"I haven't really been seeing anything out of the ordinary." Rachel pulled at the ends of her hair, self consciously looking back at Santana.

Santana had a huge urge to leave. She didn't think she should be there. She hadn't known Rachel for more than a few hours and now she was listening in to what should be none of her business. But she knew she couldn't leave, so she remained quiet and let the doctor do his thing.

"That's great, Rachel. You have made marvelous improvements since our first visit. Doesn't it feel great knowing you are getting a little bit better?" Dr. Folk smiled.

Rachel shrugged.

Dr. Folk nodded, writing down things on a clip board. Then he turned to Santana.

"Miss Lopez, may I speak to you for a minute?"

Santana raised an eyebrow at the man. "Me?" He nodded once more and Santana stood up. "Okay, sure."

Dr. Folk led her out of the room and into an empty hallway.

"I am under the impression that someone has informed you of Rachel's current condition?" He asked her.

"Uh, no, not really." Santana remembered what the doctor report was in Rachel's file, but she was wondering if there was more.

The tall man shifted his weight before speaking again. "Rachel has dealt with hallucinations and memory loss on different levels for quite some time. As her aid, is it possible for you to do a couple of exercises with her? Ask her questions, get her to try to remember more things before her accident." He adjusted his glasses.

Accident.

That was the word that kept repeating in her mind. "Accident? What accident?"

"I'm sorry, that isn't something I can tell you. If Rachel wants to share, then it is her decision. It has taken a very large toll on her and she is quite sensitive about it." Dr. Folk looked down at his silver, expensive looking watch, and then brought his attention back to Santana. "So, do you think you can do that? The more time she spends exercising her brain and memory then the better chance at a full recovery."

"Yeah, I can do that." She replied, not really listening to herself talk. Her mind had drifted away from the conversation when Dr. Folk wouldn't tell her about Rachel's accident. Santana had always been the curious type. All she wanted to do was go back into the room and ask Rachel what he was talking about, but she wouldn't do that.

"Well, I have another session in a few minutes, so I must be going." He opened the door again, informing Rachel of his departure, and then retreating down the hallway.

Rachel stayed seated at the couch, playing with the ends of her long hair. Santana observed as she fidgeted with the pen in her hands, her knee shaking up and down anxiously. Santana walked up to her, putting her hand on the girl's shoulder.

Her hand was only there for a moment because the instance that Santana touched her, Rachel gasped loudly, yanking herself away from Santana looking more frightened than before. Santana jumped back, surprised with her hands up in front of her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Santana stopped short, noticing that the other girl's eyes were trimmed with tears. Her chest was heaving, as if she was panicking, but then a few moments later, she had recollected herself.

"No, I'm sorry…it's just a reflex." Rachel looked away.

A reflex?

Santana stared intently at Rachel. What happened to you? Santana thought.

Rachel shifted uncomfortably, while Santana stared. She brought herself back to reality and gave the girl a small smile.

"C'mon, there is a movie showing in the common room. It'll help get your mind off things." Santana offered.

Rachel smiled back, her sunniness temporarily restored.

After the movie and a short chicken and salad dinner (chicken for Santana, salad for Rachel), the two girls found themselves back in Rachel's room, with Rachel sitting against the pillows and Santana sitting on the foot of the bed again.

Santana thought of what Dr. Folk asked her to do. Should she ask her now? They still didn't know each other well and Santana was not sure where to start. She didn't want her only patient hating her. Just do it Santana. You know that not knowing is killing you.

"Why are you here?" She blurted. Rachel was staring at her and Santana realized what she had just said. "I – I mean, what…brought you here?" she rephrased.

Rachel looked Santana in a weird way. It was if she was having a battle with herself whether she should trust Santana or not. Whether she should tell her or not.

Rachel's voice trembled a little, but she collected herself before speaking. "I don't remember." She tucked her hair behind her shoulders and grabbed a small white blanket with a bunch of holes in it. She cradled the blanket in her arms. "I was nine and I was at the park with my fathers. I had wandered off to look at the water that was under this bridge…" She closed her eyes, "the next thing I knew, I was falling and I crashed into the water. That's all I remember."

Then Rachel starts crying. Santana doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know what to say in this situation.

Why did I have to ask her that, you idiot. She lost her memory when she fell of a freaking bridge! Way to go, dumbass.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that." Santana apologized. She didn't do well with tears.

"No, that's not it." Rachel squealed through her tears, "I can't…I can't remember your name."

Santana shushed her, trying to calm her down. "It's okay, Rach, my name is Santana. You don't have to get upset." She smiled softly. "Here" Santana slowly scooted closer to Rachel.

Rachel hiccupped and looked at Santana. She silently watched with wide eyes as the girl gently wiped her tears away with her thumb.

They sat there, not saying anything, their faces close together. Their breathing was in sync.

Santana looked into Rachel's brown eyes. They reminded her of hot chocolate.

They had been sitting there for about fifteen minutes when she noticed the clock behind Rachel's head.

"I'm sorry, I have to go clock out." Santana said distractedly, still looking into Rachel's eyes. She gulped and slowly rose from her position on the bed, where Rachel remained, looking somewhat like a lost puppy.

She awkwardly backed out of the room and opened the door. She was about to walk out and Rachel's small voice stopped her. She turned around.

"Santana?"

Gulp. "Yes?"

Rachel hesitated. "I'm…I'm glad you are my new aid."

Santana's lips tugged into a shy smile. When in the world has Santana "Badass"Lopez ever been shy? "I'm glad too. I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that, Santana raced to clock out and immediately returned to her room. She ripped of her dress, not even bothering to take a shower. She just wanted to sleep.

She flopped onto her bed, face first. She groaned into her pillow in exhaustion and frustration. She didn't last long in that position because she couldn't breathe, so she reluctantly turned her body around, looking up at the ceiling.

It wasn't long before she hit herself in the face with her pillow again.

"Dios mio."

Hey guys! Man that was a lot of writing! Well I hoped you liked it and PLEASE review. Please please please! See you next time

-Katie