Hey guys! Thanks for being patient with the wait and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Please review!
It was spring. The sun was beating down, but the heat was offset by a cooling breeze. It was Rachel's favorite kind of day. A perfect day to spend the afternoon in the park with her two favorite people: her dads.
She just got up from the slide, her hair standing up on all ends, when she noticed a white butterfly flutter past her face. The small nine-year-old's wide eyes followed the butterfly, instantly intrigued.
Rachel walked away from the jungle gym, away from oblivious parents, following the butterfly across the park. She chased the butterfly, her pigtails flying, giggling each time the butterfly flew out of her reach. Rachel found herself being led to a bridge, a white, intricately built bridge, overlooking the rushing river that ran below through the park.
Rachel watched as the butterfly flew down and under the bridge. She bent herself over the edge, not only searching for the butterfly in hopes of coming back, but also becoming entranced by the flowing waters. She was about to give up, accepting the fact that the butterfly was gone, when suddenly, she felt a force push her over the edge. Rachel screamed, and the last thing she noticed before she hit the water, were the sounds of her fathers' cries and the sight of two hands moving away from the edge.
She soon hit the freezing water, immediately getting rushed along with the current. When she fell, she hit her head fiercely on a pile of rocks in the water and soon, everything went black and every moment, every song, every memory of the years before were quickly erased.
Rachel bolted from her pillow.
She was breathing heavily, and sweating, her bangs sticking to her forehead. Her knuckles were white from gripping her sheets so tight. She was crying.
"Santana…" she breathed, "Santana!"
Panicking, Rachel kept screaming Santana's name. She couldn't breathe. Even awake, she could feel herself being surrounded by water, the burning of her lungs as they desperately craved for air.
Amid all her screaming, a nurse bust through her door.
"Good, God, sweetie, what's wrong?" she asked in her tired, thick Midwestern accent.
"I need Santana, please, get me Santana!" She felt like she was choking. Any second now she could pass out and forget. She needed Santana.
Santana lay fast asleep in her dark room, her pillow over her head. She was drooling slightly, but she was content. Her awesome motorcycling dream was interrupted by a ramped knocking on her door.
Santana bolted straight up in surprise. She stayed still for a second, thinking it might be one of the crazies trying to murder her. After a couple of moments however, a voice from the other door sounded.
"Santana please, open up."
Santana growled as she looked at her clock. It was freaking four o'clock in the morning. Who the hell did they think they were waking her up at this hour. She would surely have bags under her eyes later.
"What?" she barked at the nurse on the other side of the door.
"I'm sorry for waking you up, Miss Lopez, but your patient has been screaming for you for over an hour. She seems to be pani–"
Santana dashed out of her room, ditching the nurse mid-sentence, speeding down the hall in her pajamas to Rachel's room. Her beauty sleep would be long forgotten.
She held on tightly to her carousel horse, sitting in the dark. She couldn't move to turn on the light.
Santana bust through the door without knocking. "Rach?"
"Santana?" she called out weakly. Santana turned on the light and saw a hysteric Rachel Berry sitting upright on her bed. She stalked over to her patient and Rachel collapsed into her arms.
Santana tried to shush her, combing her soft brown hair, much like she did after falling into that fountain.
If only Puck could see me now…I'd never hear the end of this.
"Rach, shh…it's okay, you're okay. Tell me what happened."
Rachel tried her best to compose herself, but all she could do was stutter.
"I-I had a dream about my-my a-accident…"
Santana's eyes widened. "Did you remember more about it?"
Rachel nodded. "Y-yeah. I've always remembered falling b-but, this time I remembered what happened a-after."
Santana rubbed Rachel's back slightly, in an attempt to comfort her. It was something her mother did to help her calm down.
"Do you want to talk about what you remembered? You know you can trust me."
Santana gazed down into Rachel's puffy eyes, secretly pleading her to see how much she cared. But Santana couldn't let herself get attached to Rachel. So for now, she would just be there to comfort her.
"After I, uh, after I fell…I remember seeing these…hands from over the side and then I heard–" Rachel paused for a moment, fresh tears immerging. "I heard my Daddy crying for me just before I hit the water."
Santana really felt bad for Rachel. There she was, always complaining about how annoying her brother is, or how unfair it was that her parents didn't let her have a phone until she was sixteen, when Rachel's parents left her for –
Wait – Did she say "hands", as in hands?
"Hands? Rach, do you remember anything else about the hands? Skin color, size, masculine, feminine?" Santana asked her.
Rachel shook her head, "No. All I saw hands, generic hands."
A thought suddenly dawned on Santana. "Rach, do you think someone pushed you off that bridge?"
Rachel shrugged. "I don't know."
The small brunette looked out her window and gazed out at the still-dark sky of the early morning, squeezing her carousel horse. Santana put her hand on top of Rachel's. She was shaking.
"Rachel, you sure that's the only thing bothering you? You still seem pretty freaked out." Santana was kind of worried. She was acting the same as she had yesterday after her fall.
Rachel turned her head away from the window to face Santana. Her eyes were bright with fear and Santana felt like she couldn't do anything to help.
"I just…the water, just remembering almost drowning and the weight of the water and how I kept getting tossed by the current…it just was really scary to relive it."
"Relive it? In your dream?"
"Yes."
"Is that why you got upset when you fell into the fountain? Because it brought those memories?"
Rachel nodded in response. "Are you afraid of water then?"
The brunette shrugged. "I guess I am," the girl paused, only for a moment, as if she still had more to say. "I'm sorry for waking you up. I can tell you're tired, you probably don't want to listen to my problems…"
"Hey," Santana interrupted sharply, but softly. Her hand was placed on Rachel's petite shoulder and her head was shaking. "Don't say things like that. I'm here for you, okay? I know we only really just met…but, I want to take care of you Rachel, if you'll let me. You should know how special this makes you to me, because I never let people get close to me."
"Why not?"
Santana was taken aback slightly. That wasn't what she expected her to say. She expected for her to just thank you or something.
"What?"
"Why don't you let people get close to you?" Rachel repeated.
"Uh, I guess…I guess I just don't like not knowing what will happen," Santana looked down in her lap, not wanting to think about certain things. "I got hurt once, and I just don't let people in much because I don't want to get feel like that again…it made me feel like shit, I'll tell you that."
Rachel giggled and Santana smiled back. It was nice to see Rachel smile again after being so upset.
They were doing it again. Who knows how many times it had been since they first met, but the two girls couldn't help staring deeply into each other's eyes. It was something about how deep they felt and the feeling of being so connected without saying any words.
I would give anything to know what she's thinking…
"I would never hurt you." Rachel's sincerity was reflected in her tone.
Without breaking their trance, the Latina smiled softly and replied, "I know."
The way Rachel looked that morning, it made Santana's chest get tighter, her stomach queasy. There in front of her was a beautiful and miserable looking girl, her patient, and for the first time in a really long time, Santana was happy. She was at peace, and she was happy.
Rachel yawned and Santana sensed all the crying had made her tired. She got up to leave, but Rachel called her back.
"Stay with me?"
And that's when Santana felt her body move to the bed and lay down next to her patient. She wasn't even thinking anymore when she wrapped her arms around the other girl's stomach. It had felt right and Rachel and Santana fell quickly to sleep, comfy in each other's arms.
Santana awoke to a strange warmth and a particular heaviness on her side that she wasn't used to having. She sat up straight, trying to familiarize herself with her current surroundings.
Why am I in Rachel's room? Since when did the light shine so brightly through her window?
The Latina heard breathing next to her and saw Rachel sleeping peacefully.
Santana knew that in her whole life, she had never seen anyone as beautiful as Rachel looked at that moment.
Suddenly, she jumped right out of the bed. (More like fell out of the bed because her feet had been tangled in the sheets)
Who are you? Who is this person? This person that shows…compassion and feelings. Some person who doesn't feel the need to steal or lie anymore. Ever since you got put in this stupid place you've been different. You've gone out of your way to make sure Rachel has felt okay and safe and you're even trying to protect her from yourself.
You like her.
"No, I don't." Santana voiced aloud, shutting her eyes.
Yes, you do.
"No, I can't."
And why not? You can't just let yourself suffer.
"She's…she's more fragile than I am."
All the more reason to. She's fragile, like you said, and she needs someone to take care of her.
Santana stopped herself right there. She couldn't believe she was actually talking to herself. Almost a week here, and she is already going insane.
That's just perfect.
Santana's thoughts were interrupted when she heard Rachel stir. She stood across the room and watched Rachel awake. She watched how the pink sheets slid off her bare, tan shoulders. She noticed the squeak that escape her mouth as she stretch her limbs from slumber. She observed the girl as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, finally opening her eyes to see Santana standing, watching her.
"Oh, hello."
"Hi."
"How long have you been awake?"
"Not long," she swallowed.
"Santana thank you so much for staying with me last night, you don't know how much–"
" I have to tell you something." Santana interrupted.
Rachel stopped her thought and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Oh, okay."
"Rachel, I'm gay."
From her crisscrossed position on her bed, Rachel blinked.
Santana didn't know what to think of her patient's silent reaction, so she kept talking.
"I hope that's alright. I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable, or regret asking me to stay with you last night. I just thought that you should know, and I'm really sorry if…" Santana stopped her apologies when she noticed Rachel was laughing.
"Santana, I don't care if you're gay. If I remember precisely, I was raised by two gay men."
Oh, yeah…
"So it doesn't creep you out?"
Rachel shook her head, smiling. "Not in the slightest, but I'm really glad you trust me enough to tell me."
Santana felt her smile grow wider and wider.
The two had gone through their usually breakfast routine; Rachel getting something began, Santana eating her proteins. If she had been taught anything by her wicked softball coach, it was that eating your proteins was essential.
Santana slowly ate the last few bites if her eggs.
"We have group therapy today."
Santana put her fork down and raised her eyebrow. "Group therapy?"
Rachel nodded. "Yes, once every week the patients of the same age groups attend a session of group therapy. It's quite a pain in the rear, if I do say so myself. I have a hard time talking about my condition with my regular therapist let alone a bunch of snobby, immature teenagers." She paused to wipe her mouth with her napkin. "I have come to the conclusion that the leaders here think that coming together with others of the same environment will help us gain a larger support group. They have proven to be most definitely wrong."
Santana pursed her lips. She had a feeling as to what Rachel was referring to.
"You're talking about that Quinn bitch, aren't you?"
Rachel looked down at her plate, "Maybe."
"Are there others? Other people that pick on you? What about that other blonde, the mute one?" Santana asked her. She needed to know how badly Rachel was being tortured. She wanted to help fix it.
But Rachel just shook her head. "No, no one else, just Quinn. She once spread a rumor about me that I can give someone a skin-eating disease by touching them. No one comes near me, except for the nurses."
"What? And they believe that?"
Rachel laughed slightly. "In case you haven't notice, these aren't the smartest of people around here."
Santana sighed, "Well, what time is this thing usually?"
"About…fifteen minutes from now." Rachel said, inspecting her watch.
Santana reached a hand across the table and squeezed Rachel's wrist.
"I'm sure we can fit in a walk around the garden before then." She suggested and Rachel excitedly agreed.
Six minutes. Six minutes in, and Santana wanted to light herself on fire.
Group therapy had to be the worst idea anyone ever came up with. There were thirty of them pack into a ballroom type room, fifteen patients, fifteen aids, situated all in a circle.
The lady in charge was a peppy, bottle-blonde graduate student named Jenni. With an I. Her hair was chin length and pulled back with an itricate lace headband that matched her Ralph Lauren polo dress. She was twenty-eight years old and she smelled like lemon cake.
This bitch needs to go.
From the minute she started talking, Santana became instantly annoyed. Rachel had somehow noticed the sudden change in demenor, and gave her a friendly squeeze of a hand. Something that went unnoticed to everyone in the room except one Miss Fabray, who wore an interested smirk at the interaction.
"So friends, to start today's sesh, I want to hear how everyone's weekend was! Did you have fun, did you not have fun? Did you try something new?" Jenni started out with an incredibly annoying and chipper voice. "Britt, how about you? Do you want to say something?"
Brittany, who was braiding her hair, just shook her head, not even attempting what she was asked.
"C'mon, Brittany, sweetie you know you can say anything here. I'm sure all your peers will delitghted to hear what you did this weekend and won't judge you, so please, share something with us." Jenni tried to persuade the girl.
Santana could tell what she was doing. It was obvious Jenni From the Valley knew that Brittany didn't talk and was trying to help her situation.
"Just leave her alone, Jenni. You won't get her to say anything, so don't try." Quinn interjected, not looking up from her nails.
Jenni sighed. "Well Quinn, why don't you share what you did this weekend?"
The girl looked up from her nails, rolling her eyes from being asked to cooperate. "I blew up some stuff, did some crack."
You could tell by the look on her face that Jenni wasn't amused, and Santana couldn't help but laugh. She had to admit, that was a good one.
Quinn laughed at Jenni's look of apparent horror, "Chill okay, I was just kidding. I didn't do anything, just hungout with Britt."
The therapy went on for what felt like forever to Santana. After most of the group giving boring and stupid answers about their weekend, Jenni told them to get together with partners and do trust excercises and stuff like that. It was boring as hell, except for when Rachel and Santana were doing trust-falls. Those, Santana found weirdly fun.
The two girls bust through the door of the ballroom laughing at the end of the session.
"Did you see the look on Jenni's face when that sixteen-year-old told her he hid a dead body in her closet!" Rachel giggled.
"How could I not? She looked like she was about to bolt upstairs to her room right then and there."
"I wouldn't be surprised if she's going up to check right now!"
"Ugh, god, that was the worst hour of my life. We, young lady, are never going back." Santana joked, but their laughing fest didn't last too long when they heard someone else's laugh from behind them.
"Well, look what we have here? Rachel, I'm pretty sure that if you got that schnoz fixed, you wouldn't have buckets of snot spraying from it when you laugh. It's no wonder you've never had a boyfriend. It's really unnattractive."
Santana growled and they turned around in the direction of the voice. "Fabray, to what to we owe this displeasure?"
"I was just walking down the hall to the elevators when an ungodly smell came to me. And what do you know, I thought I smelled freak." Quinn spat at Rachel, smirking.
Santana immeadiately turned to Rachel. "Rachel go up to your room, I'll be there in a minute."
"What? Why?"
"Fabray and I are about to have a smackdown."
Rachel shook her head in protest. "No, Santana it's not worth it, I'm fine."
"Just go up to your room, okay?" She tried to sound reassuring.
The small brunette took one more glance between her aid and the blonde before ultimatley giving in and entering the eleavators.
Santana walked up right to Quinn, her bitch-mode on high.
"Okay, Fabray. What is your problem? What has Rachel ever done to you, and don't say some shit like, 'she exists' or something." Santana snarled, getting right up in Quinn's face.
"I don't need to have a reason. Rachel's a freak and I don't appreaciate being surrounded by freaks." Quinn crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"Bull." Santana spat.
Quinn glared over at the Latina. "Look, you obviously care about the Hobbit. I saw you two have your little moment of reasurance in there. I don't see how this involves me."
Now Santana was angry. "It involves you, because you have made Rachel's life here absolute hell. She doesn't need that! She's kind and gentle, and needs help with whats happened to her and she doesn't need crap coming from stuck up bitches like you. What happened, did you get bullied as a child? Did your daddy not love you and you feel you can justify whatever happened to you by making Rachel suffer?"
Santana didn't even know where that came from, but it was out there and said, and Quinn did not like it.
"Don't pretend like you know me! I've been through hell, too, okay? You don't think there's a reason I'm here? You don't even know the half of it, so don't you dare try to assume that you know me." Quinn yelled, furious.
"Fine, whatever, I don't know you. But just tell me, why Rachel? Why the hell, does Rachel have to be tormented, huh? Just tell me that!" Santana egged on.
"Because she reminds me of someone I hate, okay!" Quinn screamed back.
Santana fell silent, so into what she was saying she hadn't realized how intense it had just gotten. She figured she had pushed Quinn Fabray's buttons so hard that she cracked, because tears were now falling from her face. Quinn looked over and noticed Santana staring at her.
"Well?" Santana asked her expectantly.
"Well, what?"
"Well, are you going to tell me about them? The person who Rachel reminds of and the reason you've been bullying her?" Santana raised her eyebrows. Now she was just curious.
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Like I would tell that to you."
"Why not?"
"It's horrible and it's personal."
This time Santana spoke softly. "I am an aid you know, I could help you out."
Quinn glanced at Santana, as if to see if she was truly geniune or not, considering their big blowout just seconds ago. Eventually, she nodded.
"There was this guy I had met one summer when I was a counselor at this summer camp upstate. He worked at a grocery store in town. One day I had the day off so I went into town to buys stuff that I had forgotten to bring with me. You know, razors and tampons and stuff. Anyway, he was the clerk that rang me up. He…he was really nice to me and he started flirting with me and I started flirting back. I really like the idea of a summer fling, so every time I had a day off I would go visit him at that store and we would hang out and make out and stuff."
Quinn paused for a momemt, the continued.
"Then one day, when I went to visit him, he asked me if I wanted to go to this party with him and his friends. I had never really been to a party before so I agreed. I snuck out of my cabin after my campers were asleep and went to the party. Let's just say that was the worst mistake of my life. When I got there he was drunk and gave me a drink. I had never had alcohol before and didn't want to look like a loser, so I drank it. I ended up getting horribly drunk, and when he noticed, he…he took advantage of me."
Santana had not seen that coming. Her mouth was slightly ajar and she really didn't know what to think of what she heard. She didn't think Quinn would open up that much. She barely knew her.
"You don't have to continue. I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard. You were right, that is personal." Santana apologized.
Quinn shook her head however. "No, it's nice talking to someone my age about it. I want to continue if that's okay? If you want to here the rest of it."
Santana just nodded and let Quinn finish her story.
"Well, um, then I realized what had happened but it was too late. We had already done it and there was nothing I could do, so I just hurried back to camp and vowed never to think of it again. Then again, it was kind hard to think about it when I found out I was pregnant."
Santana was definitley not expecting that.
"You have a baby?" Santana asked, incredulously.
"Had," Quinn corrected, "I gave her up for adoption."
"Oh, I'm sorry…"
"No, I knew that's what was best for her. I was only a teenager. I never told the dad of course, because I never saw him again. After the party I stopped going into town, afraid I was going to see him. Being pregnant wasn't really that bad, I had my friends and family as a support group. But it was the aftermath that was bad. My whole life I had felt the need to be perfect. I got my eating disorder in an attempt to lose my baby weight."
"Wow, Quinn, you really have gone through hell."
"Whatever its in the past," Quinn looked straight into Santana's eyes, "I'm sorry about how I've treated Rachel. I don't know what it is about her, but she just reminded me so much of him, well before, you know…I promise, I'll leave her alone."
"Thanks, but I don't think you have to leave her alone entirely." Santana replied.
This left Quinn confused. "What do you mean?"
"I'm sure that if you act as sincere with her as you are with me right now, you guys could be friends. And I think you both could really use a friend."
Quinn smiled a little, and Santana returned it. "Thanks, Santana, I'd like that."
And with that, the Latina left the blonde in the hallway to the elevators to return to Rachel in her room.
Okay, I know that ending was sooo cheesy, I'm sorry, I just really wanted Quinn's confession to come out in this chapter and I had trouble figuring it out. Well, I hoped you liked it anyway and PLEASE REVIEW. Thanks!
-katiee