!
Rachel found herself wide awake at 5:30 the next morning. Her fathers had both opted to stay and Noah had stuck around as well, though her fathers had insisted he pull up a chair with them and let Rachel get some rest in the bed. He hadn't wanted to, Rachel knew, but he did so without arguing, shooting her glances all night that let her know he'd rather be curled up in bed with her than in a hard plastic chair at her bedside.
She knew it would be a little while before her dads woke up, but she couldn't fall back asleep. She was going home today and she was excited. It was Sunday and she was having a hard time believing it was less than a week since she'd last been in her own bed. It felt like months, years even. So much had happened, so many things, and she just wanted to go home and get back to her normal routine.
She shifted slightly and her shoulder throbbed, reminding her it would be awhile before things went completely back to normal. But going home to her own bed and her own things would be enough.
The morning shift nurse came in to check on her vitals and Rachel smiled at her. The nurse smiled back, glancing at the sleeping men around the room. She approached the bed quietly.
"I hear you're going to be leaving today," she said quietly.
Rachel nodded. "Yes, they said I get to go home."
"I bet you're excited."
"Absolutely. No offense, but hospitals just are not my favorite place to be."
The nurse chuckled quietly. "None taken. I'm just glad you're well enough to go home. Not everyone that comes in here gets that chance. I'm glad everything turned out ok."
"You guys have been really nice to me and my family," Rachel said. "Thank you for everything."
The nurse smiled and headed for the door. "No problem. And no offense, but I hope I don't see you in here ever again."
Rachel laughed quietly after she left, picking up the remote. She muted the TV and flipped absently through the channels, settling on a Scooby Doo cartoon. She was on her third episode when Daddy started to stir.
He smiled when he saw her wide awake. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked quietly, coming over to sit on the edge of her bed.
She shook her head. "No. I'm ready to go home."
Daddy leaned back against her pillows. "Scooby Doo, huh? I haven't watched one of these in years."
"They're very entertaining," Rachel informed him.
He chuckled quietly as Shaggy and Scooby ran smack into yet another monster. "I see that."
By the time Noah and Rachel's Dad woke up it was 8:00 and Rachel was practically bouncing off the bed. "Can you go get the doctor, Daddy?" she asked when she saw Noah's eyes open and her Dad stretching. "I'm ready to go home now."
Daddy laughed but left the room in search of Rachel's doctor. He brought him back a few minutes later. The doctor carried something in his hands. He gave her fathers some forms to sign and turned to Rachel.
"We're cutting you loose," he told her.
She grinned. "I can't wait."
He smiled at her. "I won't take offense, just because I know how badly you've been wanting to go home." He held up the object in his hands. "Your shoulder is going to be tender for awhile, and to speed up your recovery faster you're going to have to wear this."
She wrinkled her nose slightly at the sling. "Do I have to?"
The doctor nodded. "It will help speed up your recovery," he explained. "By using the sling, the tissue and muscle in your shoulder won't have as much strain on them and they can heal faster. You need to wear this as much as you can. You don't have to wear it when you're sleeping or if you're just relaxing, but if you're going to be moving around, you should wear it." He stepped forward and slipped it over her head, helping her ease her arm into it.
Her shoulder protested at the movement and she frowned. It was uncomfortable. "How long until my shoulder is healed?"
"Well, that's another thing we need to discuss. A doctor will have to make that call. You can either come back here to get it checked out or you can see a doctor closer to home. Either way, you're looking at a few weeks, at least."
"We can discuss that a little bit later," Daddy said. "I think she's anxious to get home." They signed the release papers and the nurse came and took out her IV and brought her bag of possessions from the main desk. She took out her clothing, the clothing she was wearing when she was taken, and they all stared a little. The clothes were dirty and her shirt, her nice pretty yellow shirt, was covered in blood and dirt.
"That's a lot of blood," she heard Noah marvel.
She shrugged. "It's all I have. I'm going to head into the bathroom to change."
"Rach, wait," Noah said. She turned to find him pulling his shirt over his head. She blushed a little, thinking of him undressing in front of her fathers. He handed her his t-shirt. "Here. Wear this."
She took it from him, trying not to notice that he was standing there in a tight white tank top that made his muscles look ten times bigger. "Are you sure?"
He nodded. "It's fine. It's better than what you have."
She smiled. "Thank you, Noah," she said softly. She had trouble getting her clothing on and her shoulder ached when she was done, but she managed to get herself into her clothes. When she walked out of the bathroom, the TV was off and everyone was waiting on her. Daddy helped her get the sling back on and they started to the door. She took one last look back at the room, hoping she'd never have to see it again, before turning and following Noah to the elevator.
She was finally going home.
!
If they had been thinking clearly when they'd gotten the call that Rachel was ok, they would have thought to bring her clothes. But they hadn't been and the nurse had brought Rachel's clothing from the front desk.
He didn't know what he had been expecting but it wasn't the mass amount of blood all over everything. He felt lightheaded as he stared at the blood that covered her shirt so entirely you almost couldn't tell what color it had originally been. He realized, for the first time, looking at all that blood, how close they had come to losing her.
She took the bag and he so did not want to see her put that shirt back on, to present the image of what had been so real, so close. He whipped off his shirt almost before he knew what he was doing, handing it to her to wear instead, relief settling in as she abandoned her other shirt.
There were pictures, he knew, pictures of the girls from when they arrived at the hospital. The police had taken pictures of each girl's injuries and condition for evidence, which Rachel's Dad said was standard procedure. Puck hadn't seen the pictures and he was pretty sure he didn't ever want to.
She came out of the bathroom and he smiled when he saw how tiny his t-shirt made her look. He watched as her Daddy helped her into her sling again. He knew the man was trying to be gentle as he maneuvered her arm, but from the pained look on Rachel's face, he knew it wasn't gentle enough. They rode the elevator down to the parking garage, Rachel uncharacteristically silent the whole time. He studied her out of the corner of his eye.
Now that she was out of the hospital bed and back into normal clothes, he saw how bad she really looked. The bruising on her cheek was fading but still clearly visible in the daylight. She had dark circles under her eyes and she looked like she had lost weight, but whether that was because she actually had or because his shirt was huge on her, he didn't know. She looked absolutely exhausted, like you could knock her over with a feather. He matched his stride with hers and put his arm around her, gently tucking her into his side. She leaned into him immediately, leaning a good portion of her weight on him.
Her fathers unlocked the car and he helped her into the backseat before sliding in beside her. She curled up to him again as soon as he was settled. Her fathers climbed into the front seat and they started on their way. He sent his mom a text to let her know he would need a ride home from the Berrys. He looked down and noticed Rachel's heavy eyelids. He pulled her closer to him, her head in the crook of his shoulder. He stroked her hair softly like he knew she liked and she drifted off to sleep in minutes.
Her dads talked quietly in the front seat, the radio playing softly. He sent a text to all the Gleeks, letting them know she was coming home and really was ok. He leaned his head back on the seat, closing his eyes, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment, the soft music, Rachel safe in his arms.
They missed rush hour and made it home in good time. Rachel hadn't stirred once the entire time. They woke her enough to walk into the house. She cradled her sling with her good arm and her Daddy made her take some aspirin before Puck helped her upstairs.
Her room was still the same, he noted as he pushed open her door with one hand. Still that pale yellow he loved. He pulled down the covers and helped her into bed, brushing her hair back from her face as he tucked her in.
"Thank you," she said sleepily.
He dropped a light kiss to her forehead. "You're welcome, babe. Get some rest, I'll call you later."
"Mm kay," she murmured.
He went back downstairs and her fathers met him at the foot of the staircase. "She's sleeping," he informed them.
Her Dad sighed in relief. "She needs to rest," he said. "I was concerned when she took herself off the morphine, not only for her shoulder but for the rest of her as well. She may not have liked being knocked out all the time but her body needs the time to rest and recover."
"I'm not sure it's caught up with her yet completely," Daddy said. "She's been too cheerful, too well adjusted. I don't think it's hit her yet."
Puck stared at them in confusion. What were they talking about? Did they not remember her freak out in the hospital when she had to be sedated? He thought it had most definitely already hit her. He shook his head and a car beeped from the driveway. Looking out the window, he saw it was his mom. He thanked Rachel's dads for allowing him to go to Dayton, told them to have Rachel call him when she felt up to it and met his mother in the car.
She looked at him critically as he climbed into the car. "Oh, Noah, you look so tired," she said.
He shook his head. "I'm fine, Mom."
"How's Rachel doing?"
"Better. She's a lot better. But she's still really tired and the doctor said it will take a while for her shoulder to heal completely."
"I'm so glad she's ok," his mom said. "I know how worried you were."
"Mom," he said in a warning tone.
"Well, Noah, it's true, you were very worried. And of course you should have been. Imagine, a nice Jewish girl being taken like that."
"Tina's not Jewish, Mom," Puck cracked.
His mom glared at him before turning her attention back to the road. "Don't you sass me, Noah Puckerman. You like that girl and you know it."
"You mean you like her," he muttered.
"Well, of course I like her! She's beautiful and talented and smart. And Jewish!"
He grinned at his mom. "Then why don't you date her?"
His mother made a frustrated noise. "There's just no talking to you, I swear. I'm just trying to be a good mother, just trying to take an interest in your life. You know, so we don't have a repeat of last year with that Fabray girl."
Puck cringed at the Jewish mother guilt trip. His mother was doing a really good job of making him feel like crap. "I'm sorry, Mom. It's been a long few days and I just want to shower and crawl in bed. I know you mean well."
"You're my only son, Noah. Is it so much to hope that you will find a nice girl and settle down and be happy?"
"Mom, I'm eighteen," he pointed out. His mother just sighed and he rolled his eyes. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, Rachel and I are going to hang out once she feels better." He purposefully avoided telling his mother it was a date, knowing she'd never shut up if she knew.
His mother made a happy noise. "Oh, Noah, that's wonderful," she gushed. "You know how much I love Rachel!"
He groaned in frustration and rolled his head back against the headrest as his mom went on and on about the virtues of Rachel Berry.
!
Rachel awoke, groggy and disoriented, to a dark room. She glanced around in confusion, not seeing her fathers or Noah. Her heart started racing. A dream. It was all a dream. She was in the shack again, in the dark. Her heart started racing and she couldn't get enough air. She clutched at her chest, gasping wildly.
The overhead light flicked on. "Sweetheart? Rachel, are you ok?"
She stared at Daddy in confusion. He couldn't be here. He was another dream. She gasped again, panicked, still not able to breathe.
Daddy rushed to her side. "Take slow breaths, honey," he advised. "It's ok, you're ok, just take little breaths."
He sounded far away, like he was at the other end of a long tunnel. Of course, she reminded herself, he was a dream, dreams could do that.
"Honey, it's ok, just breathe. Rachel, darling, you're alright, just breathe."
She felt like she was suffocating, like someone was sitting on her chest. She kicked wildly, trying to free her legs. She raised her arms and found one restrained close to her side. She clawed wildly at the binding, trying to get it off. She gasped louder and she vaguely realized she was crying.
Dream Daddy helped free her legs and she struggled to her feet, ripping the binding off her arm. She crossed the room and Dream Daddy followed her.
"Honey, please, it's ok, it's ok. Breathe. Rachel, breathe."
"You're not real," she choked out, cowering in the corner as he approached her. "You're not here."
"What's going on?" she heard Dad ask. Another dream, another person who wasn't really here.
"I think she's having a panic attack," Daddy said. She rested her head on her bent knees, chest still heaving, trying desperately to get enough oxygen.
"Rachel, honey, everything's ok now," Dad said cautiously. She heard him step toward her and she sobbed louder. He stopped moving. "Sweetheart, you're here at home, in your room. Everything's ok, you're safe now."
"Not real," she sobbed. "You're not real either."
"I am real, sweetheart, I am right here with you. You're safe now, I promise you, honey," Dad said.
She raised her panicked eyes to his. "I can't breathe," she gasped.
He took the two remaining steps to her and swept her up in his arms. "Put your head down," he advised. "Put your head between your knees and try to focus on taking slow breaths. Try to match your breathing to mine. It's ok, honey, everything's ok."
She put her head down like Dream Dad suggested, ignoring the pain in her arm and her ribs. She closed her eyes and tried to listen to the breathing. Her chest hitched and she couldn't seem to stop crying but after awhile she felt the pressure in her chest ease and breathing came a little easier. A hand rubbed her back soothingly and the room was blissfully silent.
When her breathing returned to normal, she closed her eyes, sagging back against Dad. She heard him let out a relieved sigh but she was too exhausted to think about it. They sat there until she felt her thoughts start to blur and fade and she knew she was halfway to sleep again…