Disclaimer: Not a character within here belongs to me.
The light hurt her eyes. That was the first conscious thought Rachel had. And it surprised her that there was any light at all, seeing as how she always shut her curtains at night so as to be able to greet the morning upon her awakening. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut tighter and tried to ignore that, obviously, she had forgotten upon arriving home last night.
Without opening her eyes, Rachel took stock in her surroundings, as she did every morning. With nothing to distract her, she was most able to decipher any oncoming problems with her body. She noticed none, except that she was incredibly overheated and that her fan was not oscillating, or even turned on. How had she slept without it? She needed the gentle white noise to lull her to sleep every night. This was a strange thought.
Dismissing it from her mind, Rachel stretched herself to her full height, pushing her arms up above her head. And she hit something. Rachel's eyes opened immediately, and she began looking at an unfamiliar ceiling. She rolled herself over, intending to roll out of the bed, but instead she rolled into the thing she had hit.
"What the fuck? Rachel?" Rachel scooted backwards, managing to get off the bed before recognizing the soft thing she had rolled into.
"Noah? What…" She looked around, noticing that she was not in her room at all, but despite the bed, in her wildest dreams she could not imagine that this was a bedroom. The floor was covered in a cacophony of clothes and dirty dishes, the only clear space around a guitar in the corner. "Where are we?" she asked, afraid to hear if he would confirm her suspicions.
"My room." He simply stated, not moving from the bed. She looked over at him, not sure how to handle the situation she found herself in. He had the covers tucked up to his chin, but there was a corner folded down where she had recently pushed herself out of the bed. That meant that…
"Did we… did I…" Rachel looked around again and caught a sight of herself in a full length mirror. She was nearly naked.
"Yes." He answered. "Come back to bed, Berry. It's cold without you." She had been sleeping next to him? While she was disrobed? But then…
"I need to go home." She started looking around for her clothes, finding her skirt, shoes, and bra on the floor next to the bed. Not wanting to wake him up if it was unnecessary, she tried to dig through the piles of clothes without actually touching anything.
"Your shirt's in my truck." Rachel looked up and saw Noah sitting up in his bed. He had a cocky smirk on, and she turned her eyes downward. "You want me to get it for you?" He asked. She nodded, hoping to everything she held dear that this was a dream, and that it would end soon. She looked back up to him, and saw him crawl out of bed in only a set of boxers.
"Oh, gosh, sorry." She yelped, covering her eyes with her hand. He laughed.
"Don't be so coy, Berry. It's not like you haven't seen it before." He came to stand in front of her, which she noticed because two feet stopped right in her line of vision on the floor. He hooked a finger under her chin, pulling her face up. She knew her cheeks were a deep shade of red, but she couldn't help it. She was so embarrassed for seeing him nearly undressed, and so scared at what it meant that she had awoken in a similar state. He did nothing to calm her fears.
"After last night, I kind of figured this morning would involve something more than just 'I need to leave.' Why don't you stay awhile? I'm sure we'll find something to entertain us." He was smiling at her, and she wasn't sure it was a friendly smile.
"Noah, all I remember from last night is being at that party, and then I asked you to take me home, and clearly you neglected that task, because I am not at home. I am here, at your house, in your room, with you. I woke up without my clothes on, as did you, and I really have no idea what happened, but I'm very frightened by everything I've found out. So I need you to please take me home NOW!" Rachel pulled back from him and crossed her arms over her torso, trying to hide as much of herself as possible. She was rarely forceful, but she could feel the tears starting to fill up her eyes, and she did not want him to see her in a vulnerable position. Puck looked a bit surprised, but quickly threw on some jeans, left the room, and came back up carrying her shirt.
"Here." He held it out to her. She looked up to him, and he extended his arm a bit farther towards her. She grabbed it out of his hand as quickly as she could.
"Could you… turn around? Please." Rachel asked him. He shook his head, but quickly turned his body so that he was facing away from her. Rachel pulled the shirt on as quickly as she could, then said, "Okay."
"So did you want me to actually take you home? Or just back to your car?"
"To my car. Please." Rachel was always polite, but she could hear her voice shaking every time she was nice to him. What had she gotten herself into?
"Fine. Let's go." He grabbed a shirt out of his dresser and walked out of his room. Rachel heard him stomp down the stairs and out the front door. She felt a few tears streak down her face, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. All she had to do was get to her car, and then she could figure out what had happened.
He did not say a word to her the entire drive back to Santana's. Rachel was somewhat glad of this, because she wasn't sure how she would be able to hold it together if he spoke, but it made the ride very awkward, and made it seem much longer than she was sure it was in reality.
He pulled up next to her car, and she quickly undid her seatbelt and slid out. As soon as she had the door shut, Puck hit the gas and drove off, making her jump back towards the curb. She watched his truck speed down the street, ignore the stop sign and squeal tires as he took the turn too fast. Rachel started shaking again, and was barely able to make it into her car before the hysterics hit. What had happened last night? She tried to remember everything from the beginning, thinking that maybe if she could work through it, she might remember how her clothes came off.
She'd come to the party. Santana had given her the funny tasting orange juice. She drank two cups of it. She had danced on a table.
Rachel almost died when that memory surfaced. What in all creation had caused her to act like that? The answer came to her suddenly. Santana had spiked her drink. The orange juice tasted funny because there was alcohol in it. She had gotten Rachel drunk. The tears renewed themselves, and started falling with renewed vigor. What would her father's think if they found out that she had danced on a table? Or that she had allowed herself to become intoxicated? They would be so ashamed. But she couldn't concentrate on that now.
'Come on, Rachel think. What happened next?' She had danced on the table, and fallen off and Noah had caught her. He had taken her outside. Then he put her in his truck, and… her memory went black until this morning. She remembered sitting in his truck, and asking him to take her home. And then waking up this morning. Nothing in between that. Had her drink had more than alcohol in it? Was the alcohol not what caused the funny taste? Rachel knew that there was only one way to find out, and it wasn't something she particularly wanted to do. But she had to know for sure.
The hospital parking lot was not very crowded, and Rachel hoped that meant that she could get in and out quickly. Goodness knows she needed a shower and all she wanted to do was lie down and cry, but she knew this had to come first. She walked herself up to the front desk.
"What can we help you with today?" A blonde nurse asked her, smiling.
Rachel looked down at her shoes. "I think I need a… a rape kit."