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The next morning, Santana got up before her alarm. She quickly showered, applied her makeup, and got herself dressed in khakis and her polo all within twenty minutes. She had just finished brushing her teeth when she saw the clock and realized she still well over an hour before she had to clock in. She sighed heavily, putting down the toothbrush.

What was she going to do now?

She was a little hungry, she thought, putting a hand on her stomach, but decided she'd wait to eat with Rachel.

Rachel.

Rachel was why Santana had gotten up so early. She was anxious to see her and Santana had absolutely no clue why. She had only known Rachel for like, what? A day and half? Still, she couldn't be intrigued by the girl. She was so timid and frazzled, yet, at the same time she had this…kiddish joy almost. Those were two personalities Santana didn't think usually went together. She also thought about what Rachel's therapist has said. How was she supposed to get Rachel to remember what happened to her? She barely the girl, not to mention what happened the last time she asked her about her accident.

Santana looked back at the clock and saw she still had thirty minutes left. For five of them, she just sat on her bed and stared around the room, not knowing what to do until she got an idea. She opened up her desk drawer where she put all of Rachel's papers. She read through more of her evaluation papers.

Miss Berry seems to be quite the emotional wreck at the moment. She claims to have been seeing strange things at night such as her father humming in the bathroom. Her memory isn't as good as I hoped. She can't remember anything prior to the age of seven and she still refuses to answer my questions about her accident. Whether she remembers and does not wish to relive it, or simply cannot remember, I cannot tell at the moment.

-Dr. Reginald Folk, PhD

2/23/05

2005? That would have made Rachel eleven years old.

"Oh, god…" Santana whispered. Rachel has been stuck in this house of crazies since she was nine, for eight years, with no family, no visitors, and from what Quinn had informed Santana upon her arrival, she probably never had friends either. She imagines how lonely Rachel probably is. How much she must hate it here.

After reading that paper, Santana decided she was done and left her room, even if she was a couple minutes early.

She clocked herself in, saying hello to Olivia on her way, then immediately went up to Rachel's room. The door was closed this time, so she knocked.

"Yes?" Santana heard Rachel call from the other side of the door.

"Hey, Rach. It's me, Santana." She answered back.

A small pause later and Rachel thrusts the door open, a large smile pasted on her face.

"Good morning, Santana." Rachel greeted.

Santana laughed, giving Rachel a look. "Good morning to you too, Starshine. You seem happy today."

"I'm happy to see you." Rachel replied.

Santana looked back at Rachel, her mouth in a half smile, but she wasn't paying attention to much else.

She's happy to see me.

Santana didn't understand why a simple statement such as that had puzzled her so much, but she decided to ignore her thoughts for the moment.

"Ready for breakfast?" Rachel asked brightly.

"Uh, yeah." Santana answered, her attention back to Rachel.

The two girls left doorway and headed toward the commissary. Santana observed how Rachel walked. She sort of strode, almost in a skip and she held her hands behind her back. She was humming, which made Santana giggle (giggle?) at her childlike behavior.

When they reached their destination, Rachel went ahead and grabbed a tray and helped herself to a serving of cereal.

They sat at the same table as yesterday and began to eat. Santana noticed how Rachel was watching her as she ate her bacon.

"Oh, do you want some?" Santana offered her one of her pieces.

"Oh, no thank you. I'm Jewish." Rachel declined.

Santana smiled. "Cool. I have a friend who is Jewish. His name is Puck and he's pretty badass, but he takes his religion very seriously."

"Puck? That's a more interesting name that yours."

Santana laughed. "Well, his real name is Noah. Noah Puckerman. In the sixth grade, there were two Noah's in our class, so he just had everyone call him Puck. I guess it just sort of stuck." She explained.

Rachel nodded, taking another spoonful of her Lucky Charms.

Santana was finishing up her eggs when she noticed a very excited Brittany waving at her from across the room. Next to her was Quinn who simply nodded her head.

Santana waved back, which caught Rachel's attention. She followed the direction of Santana's gaze.

"You're friends with Quinn Fabray?" Rachel asked, incredulously.

"I would call it her a friend really, I only talked to her once." Santana replied, guessing that Rachel wasn't too fond of the blonde.

Rachel looked down at her food. "Last year, she set my favorite sweater on fire."

"What? Why?" Santana asked, looking back at Quinn, who happened to be scowling back at them.

"She said that she wanted to punch me in the face every time I wore it." Rachel said quietly.

Santana was about to reply when the blonde herself came up to their table with Brittany close behind her.

"Hey, Santana," Quinn smiled at her, "Hey RuPaul," she spat at Rachel, and then turned her attention back towards Santana. "What are you doing talking to her?"

Santana furrowed her brow, "I'm her aid."

Quinn let out a haughty laugh. "Good luck with that!" she handed Santana her uneaten protein bar. "Here, you'll need all the energy you can get to try to reign in her crazy."

"Hey," Santana responded sharply, while Rachel just sat their silently, looking at her hands. "Don't talk about her like that, okay?"

"And what are you gonna do, huh? You going to tell on me? It's not like anyone would do anything. I'm crazy." Quinn said wide-eyed and full of sarcasm.

Who does this bitch think she is?

Santana stood up abruptly, her chair scooting back. She walked over to Quinn, getting all up in her face.

"Look sweetheart," Santana speaking calmly at first, "I know you may think you're top dog around here and that you can do and say anything to make yourself feel better, and that's great, good for you. But I don't roll that way. Now you can apologize and get lost, or you get over whatever that sob story of yours is about how you got here and leave Rachel alone."

Quinn gave Santana a piercing look, her eyes raging. "You don't know anything about me." She spun fiercely around on her feet, grabbing Brittany by the wrists, pulling her out the door. Brittany, silent but cheery, waved Santana goodbye.

Santana huffed and sat back down. She looked up to find Rachel staring at her.

"You didn't have to do that. You didn't have to defend me." Rachel said quietly, her eyes wide with silent mortification.

Santana shook her head. "No, that Quinn is a bitch, okay? You don't deserve to be talked like that," she cautiously put her hand on top on Rachel's, not wanting to freak her out, "I got your back, okay?"

Rachel gave a small smile, nodding, "Okay."

After they were done eating, they put their trays in the bins and walked toward the exit. Santana was about to go to the elevator to go to Rachel's room when, the girl stopped her.

"Wait, I think I'd like to take that walk in the garden today." Rachel was tugging nervously at her hair again.

"No problem," Santana said, attempting to ease Rachel of her nervousness.

After taking fifteen minutes just to find the garden, the two girls walked side by side down the rows of flowers and plants. They were the only ones there and some of the sprinklers were on.

"Santana?"

"Hmm?"

The shorter girl looked up to the taller. "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh, sure. Go ahead."

"What did you get in trouble for?"

Santana stopped walking, looking back at Rachel. She didn't know if she wanted to Rachel or not.

"I got caught shoplifting." She finally answered.

They began walking again. "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why were you shoplifting?" Rachel asked.

Santana realized that Rachel wasn't as cautious as she was when it came to asking personal questions. She was curious and said what she was thinking.

Santana shrugged her shoulders. "Um, I don't know. I was bored, I guess. It was stupid, I know."

Seemingly satisfied with Santana's answer, Rachel asked nothing else. They walked for a while before settling down an metal bench in the middle of the garden.

"I don't know if Dr. Folk has told you already, but I have a bit of a memory problem." Rachel said quietly.

Santana placed her hands in her lap. "Yeah, I know."

"I can't remember a lot of things. Like when you asked me yesterday about when I became a vegan? I was so surprised I remembered that." Rachel glanced at the Latina.

"It must be scary. Not knowing things that have happened in the past?" Santana tried to imagine what it must be like for Rachel. Her parents left her and never returned, she can't remember a lick about her life, all while being constantly viewed under a looking glass and having her things burned by Quinn. She couldn't help but admire Rachel. She seemed so strong.

"Kind of."

Things went back to being silent. Rachel got up and wandered over to some of the daisies. Santana observed from the bench while Rachel sniffed and picked.

Santana noticed how the sun seemed to shine just directly on Rachel. She was glowing, her hair and her skin almost angel-like.

She's so beautiful.

Rachel turned around away from the flowers. "Santana? Do you mind if we return to my room now?"

Santana smiled at Rachel. "Yeah, sure."

They had spent most of the afternoon in Rachel's room. When they weren't at lunch, or therapy or in the activities room, they stayed on the bed and tried their hardest not to make it awkward.

"Who is that?" Santana asked, pointing to the large poster on Rachel's ceiling.

Rachel gasped. "You don't know who the Great Barbra Streisand is?" Rachel asked incredulously.

"Um…no?"

"She is only the most talented and sensational performer to ever grace the Broadway stage!" Rachel went to her dresser to fetch a small bulletin board that had a bunch of pictures of people in fancy costumes and shiny awards, not to mention a large selection of gold star stickers. "That's what I want to do when I get out of here. I want to be on Broadway." Rachel's eyes were beaming with a sort of innocent optimism. It made Santana smile.

"Well you certainly do have the pipes for it." Santana had never heard anyone with a better voice.

"Thanks," Rachel put the board down beside her chair, "What do you want to do?"

"To be honest, I really don't know."

Santana had always felt stuck when it came to her future. Everyone else around her seemed to have everything figured out. Hell, even Puck knows that he wants to start a pool cleaning business in California after high school. Santana didn't know anything. Her parents have always pressed the idea of college, but for some reason, Santana didn't think college was for her. She wanted to do something more.

"I-I think I'd like to be a songwriter."

Rachel's face lit up, rushing over to sit next to her aid. "A songwriter? You write songs?"

Santana suddenly felt shy. "Um, sometimes. They aren't really songs, but more like poetry. I don't know. I think it would sound cool."

That wasn't really true. Santana wrote songs all the time. She can't remember how she fell into it, but somehow, every time something bad would happen or she would get in trouble, Santana had found an outlet into writing. She never told anyone about it. It would have ruined her street cred.

"It sounds amazingly cool! Do you sing?" Rachel was really excited. Not only had she found a somewhat friend in Santana, but they had a similar interest. Rachel felt like she was on cloud nine.

Santana rubbed a hand behind her neck. When have I ever been so timid? "I don't really sing."

"Well you have to sing at least sometimes to see if your writing sounds good, right?"

"I guess, but –"

"Wonderful!" Rachel leapt up from the bed to her CD player. She popped in a disk and pressed play.

The music began to fill the room and Santana recognized the song immediately.

"Give me a second I, I need to get my story straight

My friends are in the bathroom getting higher than the Empire State

My lover he's waiting for me just across the bar

My seat's been taken by some sunglasses, asking 'bout a scar and…"

Rachel jumps around the room while she sings, in her own little zone. Santana laughs as she watches the show.

"I know I gave it to you months ago, I know you're trying to forget

But between the drinks and subtle things, the holes in my apologies, you know

I trying hard to take it back

So if by the time the bar closes and we feel like falling down, I'll carry you home…"

Rachel skips to Santana, singing brightly with her signature smile as she takes Santana's hands, trying to get her to dance from her position on the bed.

"Tonight…we are young! So let's set the world on fire, we can burn brighter than the sun!

Tonight, we are young, So let's set the world on fire, we can burn brighter than the sun…"

Rachel stepped back, biting her lip, gesturing to Santana to sing the next verse. She sighed, shaking her head. Well, here goes.

"Now I know that I'm not all that you got, I guess that I, I just thought maybe we could find new ways to fall apart…"

Rachel rushed and turned of the music. "Santana, that was incredible! You have a amazing voice."

"Really?" the Latina questioned.

"Really! It's so raspy and unique. You're very talented. I would know, I'm talented too." Rachel said with a serious expression, which made Santana laugh.

"Seriously, Santana. You could have a future in performing. Don't you think it could be fun to be able to sing and travel the world?" Rachel asked sincerely. Santana could tell that Rachel wanted nothing more than to do just that.

"I never really thought about it before."

They did nothing else for a while. Dinner wasn't for another twenty minutes and they really had nothing else to do. Rachel lay down on her bed, facing the ceiling and humming while Santana watched her intently.

"So what's up with that Quinn chick? It's like she has some pole up her ass." Santana asked the other girl. Ever since that morning, she had been curious as to what the blonde meant.

You don't know anything about me.

"No one really knows. All I know is that she's been here for two years and she hates everyone, well except for Brittany Pierce." Rachel answered quietly, still facing the ceiling. She was thinking about her sweater. "If there was anything else that I knew, I can't remember….oh, yeah, and she had an eating disorder."

So this Quinn had an eating disorder and hates everyone. She must have had some sort of insecurity issue, Santana couldn't really see why. The chick was freaking gorgeous. Either way, she was going to find out, if not for her, at least then to get her to stop picking on Rachel.

Santana got up and walked to Rachel. "Hey, you want to get some dinner?" she held out her hand.

Rachel smiled, gladly taking the hand. "Sure."

They went down to eat and both got salads. They talked about Broadway and New York, a subject Rachel was never too shy to talk about. They talked about music and singing. Santana told Rachel about Columbus and Puck and her family. Rachel didn't talk about hers. They laughed when Santana had flung a tomato across the room with her fork, accidentally hitting a man in the head. They laughed even harder when the man that he was being attacked and ran out of the room. Santana had never felt so connected to a person before. With Puck, it was all about the money and the schemes and the booze. With Rachel, Santana found herself forgetting all those things for once, acting more and more like herself.

"I've never had a friend before." Rachel admitted, her eyes innocent and wide.

Santana smiles back at her in reassurance.

"You do now."

After they were kicked out of the commissary for being too loud, the two brunettes went back to Rachel's room. They sung top hits and Rachel introduce her to a little bit of Broadway. As Rachel danced around the spacious room, her white holey blanket wrapped around her neck as she belted out her own rendition of "I'm the Greatest Star", Santana sat in the corner on the floor and began to write. For the first time in a long time, the words found their way to the paper more easily than they ever had before. Word after word, they all came to her as she watched the petite girl sing.

Taking a break from writing, Santana turned over a page in her book and began to draw Rachel instead. She had always been fairly good at art. She couldn't draw anything other than people, but she got many compliments in the past of her drawings. She drew Rachel exactly how she was. On the page was a small teenager with long brown curls and a big nose. She had a white holey blanket wrapped around her neck and she was dancing around, happy. The most significant part of the picture was the big, bright smile on the girls face. It was Santana's favorite thing about the drawing.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked, still dancing around.

Santana turned the notebook around to show Rachel her masterpiece. "I drew a picture of you."

Rachel stopped dancing and slowly walked over to the picture. She crouched down to Santana's level and took the notepad, inspecting the picture.

"This is amazing, Santana." Rachel complimented quietly.

The Latina shook her head. "No, you're amazing Rachel."

Rachel just looked at Santana. She didn't say anything. Her eyes were innocent and but Santana could see that the girl was caught off guard by her words. Suddenly, Santana's cheeks felt hot and she knew she was blushing.

Oh, god. Why did I have to say that?

Santana was afraid she the wrong thing. "I – um, I" she stuttered, embarrassed.

Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear.

"No one has ever called me amazing before…" she looked out the window, "at least I don't think so."

"Rach, you are amazing. Don't let anyone tell you different, okay?" Santana told her, slightly still embarrassed.

Rachel bit her lip, nodding.

Santana was about to let the conversation go when she remembered something.

"Hey, Rachel. When was the last time you left the institute? Like, when was the last time you've been, like, outside?"

Rachel pulled at her curls. "I haven't."

"You haven't? Out of all the years you have been trapped here, they never let you out just once?" Santana asked doubtfully.

Rachel shook her head. "The only time I really get out is when I go out to the garden."

An idea hatched inside Santana's criminal mind and an excited smile crept onto her lips.

Rachel raised her eyebrow in confusion of her aids sudden change in facial expression. "Santana?"

Santana grabbed Rachel's hand. "Hey, meet me in front of the commissary before brunch is open tomorrow, okay?"

Rachel was confused. "Why?"

"It's a surprise." Santana smiled widely.

Rachel, still confused, returned the smile and laughed. "Okay."

"Okay, see you bright and early." Santana told the girl before leaving the room.

She had an idea and she was going to make sure that tomorrow was going to be a day Rachel Berry wouldn't forget.

Hope you liked the chapter and PLEASE review! Thanks so much!

-Katie