Chapter 5
A/N thank you again for those of you have contributes to this story. You know who you are.
This chapter is a little angsty. Get Ready. Some questions are answers and other questions are presented.
Puck pulled off his helmet and wiped off his brow with his arm. He squinted his eyes and scanned the bleachers. Where the hell was she? He gave an internal huff. He packed his things up and started for the school.
"Hey, man."
Finn Hudson came up next to him. "Hey, dude," Puck replied. "What's up?"
"Have you seen Kurt?" Finn asked as they entered the locker room. Finn looked around. "Maybe he walked home."
"Dude, you need to watch him better," Puck said with shake of his head.
"Yeah, they're probably just wandering," Finn said. "It's fine."
"Whatever," Puck said. "That might be okay for Kurt, but it's not okay for Rachel."
"Whatever, man," Finn replied. "Listen, they're probably together, do you mind sending Kurt to the car. I want to shower quick."
Finn veered off from Puck. The captain continued down the hallway. It didn't take a scientist to figure out where she was. However, it still took Puck about fifteen minutes to find her. And he didn't exactly find her, she found him.
...
Rachel led Kurt down the hallway.
"Where are we going?" he asked, following her curiously. He had known her long enough to know that she had a mind of her own, but her adventurous side rarely made an appearance.
"Mr. Schuester said he could give us lessons," Rachel said in a matter of fact way. "We're going to talk to him about it."
Knocking on the choir room door, she opened it slightly without waiting for an answer.
"Hello?" she asked.
She spotted Mr. Schuester sitting at his desk in the back room.
"Well, hello, Miss Corcoran," Will said with a smile as she entered. Kurt entered behind her and his smile faded slightly. "Hello, Kurt."
"We were wondering if you could help us," Rachel said carefully.
"Anything," he said with a smile.
"We want voice lessons," Kurt interjected.
Will gave a nod. "Of course. Rachel you're here during you brother and sister's practices, why don't you come then?"
Rachel gave a nod and a thankful smile.
"Can Kurt come too?" she asked.
"My brother, Finn has practice at the same time," Kurt informed.
Will gave a nod. "I'm glad that you've considered this, Rachel."
Rachel smiled but then it fell. "I … I don't know how to pay for these lessons," she said dejectedly.
Kurt looked at her with an encouraging nod. "We will pay though! We can figure something out."
The young boy watched as the teacher reached out and rubbed Rachel's back.
"Don't worry," he said with a smile. "I won't charge you. We'll figure something out."
Mr. Schuester looked over at Kurt and smiled. He ruffled the boy's hair. "Do you want to start tomorrow?"
Rachel smiled. "We would be delighted."
"Fabulous," Kurt clapped and then he reacted up to fix his hair. "We have a school musical coming up that we would love your help with. When we get the parts we'll need all the practice we can get."
Will gave the boy a smirk. "That sounds great. Why don't you bring your audition pieces tomorrow?"
Rachel looked up at the clock. "That sounds great. We really must be going, though." She motioned toward the clock. "Practice is ending any minute."
"Sure," he said with a smile. He led the two young kids to the door and opened it. "I look forward to working with you both."
Rachel nodded.
"Thank you, Mr. Schuester!" Kurt exclaimed.
Rachel started out the door and caught sight of her brother walking through the hallway. She gave a heavy sigh.
"Come on, Kurt," she muttered.
"Rachel?" She looked up at her new voice teacher. He rested a hand on her shoulder and another on Kurt's. "I'm glad that we're all doing this together." He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Say hello to your mother for me."
"Rachel," Noah called out to her.
"See you later," she said to the older man and walked toward her brother.
...
Quinn pulled on her Cheerios uniform. She wiped her tears with the palm of her hands. She didn't want to have any traces of her tears on her face when she saw Santana. She knew that Shelby knew what had happened. She felt as if everyone with her case knew. She rolled her eyes. They had to. Quinn chewed the inside of her lip. It was worst to have everyone know and tip toe around the subject. It was worst because it felt like a big elephant in the room. A big fat elephant.
"Well, it says here that she has a mild fever," Dr. Wiseman said gently as she looked through the chart. "You need to take it easy Quinn. Please try not to get into anymore fights." She gave the girl a weak smile. Another sympathy smile, Quinn groaned. "I'm giving you two kinds of pain medications, daytime and night time. The one you take in the evening will help you sleep through the night. You need to let someone help clean your back in the evening. We don't want this infection to get any worse. I am also giving you antibiotics to ward off a minor infection that was clear in your exam." Dr. Wiseman sighed. "You need to take care of yourself, Quinn."
Shelby gave Quinn a small smile. Quinn shook her head again. It was a sympathy smile.
"We will make sure of it," Shelby said with a smile.
"I'll call over those prescriptions so they're ready to pick up within the hour," she said with a smile. "Take care. Let's schedule another follow up for next week."
Quinn nodded and watched as Shelby opened the door. Santana was standing on the other side leaning against the opposite wall. The brunette looked away and followed quietly.
Shelby watched her daughter carefully as they walked out to the car. She didn't need her maternal instincts to tell her that her daughter had been listening at the door.
…..
Puck looked down at Rachel. He knew that she knew that he was mad.
"Go and find your brother, Kurt," Puck said not breaking his gaze from Rachel.
"Um…." Kurt said quietly.
"Kurt, please just go," Rachel said quietly.
The boy leaned close to his best friend. "Are you going to be alright?" Kurt asked.
She gave a weak smile. "He's my brother, of course I will."
He scoffed. "Finn's my brother and he doesn't hesitate to beat the shit out me."
Rachel tore away from her brother's watchful eyes and looked at her friend. "Well, that's terrible. Noah wouldn't hurt me." She looked at her older brother again.
"Alright, whatever," Kurt said walking down the hallway. "See you tomorrow."
Rachel turned and looked at her brother. She shrugged one of her shoulders up and pushed her lips her opposite cheek. "So, on a scale of 1 to 10, how mad are you?"
Puck sighed. "Pretty mad, Rach," he said without raising his voice.
"San would have yelled. Could you just yell?" she begged. She hated when her brother was angry.
"Rachel, we have these rules for a reason. We need to see you at all times," Puck said as he leaned against the wall.
Rachel leaned against the wall next to him. Her shoulder brushed against his elbow. She looked at her feet.
"You and Santana never had the same rules," Rachel said folding her arms. "I'm not a baby, Noah. And you have to stop treating me like one."
"Me and San, Rach?" He sighed. "It's not the same and you know it."
Puck watched as she bowed her head and said so quietly he could barely hear her. "Bad things just didn't happen to me," she whispered. "Why does everyone always act like it was just me?"
Puck set down his bag and knelt in front of her. "Because in a lot of ways it was just you." He searched her eyes. "And Rachel, I don't like it when San gets into trouble. Never." He sighed. "Santana has always fought back. Always." He bit his lip as he looked for his words. "And you—''
Rachel lowered her head. "I never did." She bit her lip. "So you made these stupid rules because you don't think I can take care of myself?"
She had angry tears welling up in her soft brown eyes.
Puck gave a heavy sigh. His honesty was strangely gentle and hard to accept. "Yeah, bug. We did." He watched as the tears fell down Rachel's cheeks. "But you know what? Maybe I can talk to Mom. Okay? Because you're right, you're old now."
She gave a tearful smile and wiped her face with her hands. "I'm older, Noah. Not old."
"Whatever," he said standing up. "You ready to go home?"
She nodded. She walked next to him quietly. He looked down at her. He hated seeing her sad. They had spent so long trying to pull her out of that place in her head. Fear had always been her initial instinct. Eight years, therapy and a safe home still couldn't undo that. And he knew way in the back of his mind that it never would. However, he was never going to stop trying.
"You want a piggy back ride to the car?"
She looked up and him and gave a smile. "No, thank you. I'm wearing a skirt. That's not very lady-like."
He chuckled. "Alright."
"But you could let me sit shot-gun," she said with a smile.
"When you're twelve. Sorry it's the law," he gave her a little nudge as they went out to the parking lot. "Plus Mom would kill me."
"She wants to anyway. At least this way it would have been for a good cause."
"Nice try, bug," he said with a grin.
…
The pharmacy had been a whole gift basket worth of awkward. Santana wasn't sure how to be mad. She wanted to remain mad, but she couldn't get what she had heard out of her head.
"Will that be all?" she heard the pharmacist ask.
Santana noticed her mother watching her. "Yes that's it," Shelby said. "Quinn, come over here please where I can see you."
Santana heard a heavy huff from the aisle to her right. She looked at the blond. It was the first time she didn't scowl at her. It was the first time she tried to really see her. She had known her for almost two years. She didn't know anything about her.
"What are you staring at, Whopper?" Quinn sneered.
"Just your ugly mug, Barbie," Santana hissed.
The blond looked over her shoulder and saw that Shelby was still at the counter. She strode over to Santana.
"Don't for one second think that you know anything about what you heard today," she barked. Santana's eyes became bigger but she didn't back down.
"Calm yourself, Gump," she said with a grin. "I do know a lot more than you think." She wasn't for one second going to allow Quinn Fabray to get the upper hand. She felt her animosity toward the girl rise to the surface and drown her empathy. "You're nothing but a weak little girl pretending to be a cobra." Santana shook her head. "So calm yourself, because you have no power anymore." She gave the blond a demeaning up-down look. "And from what I overheard, you can't even fight back."
Quinn was shaking in fury.
"Girls, let's go," Shelby interjected. "Quinn, I mean it."
Santana followed the girl to the car. She kept her smile on her face until she sat in the front seat. It was dark outside, she saw Quinn hop into the backseat and slam the door shut. As they pulled out of the parking lot and heading toward home, Santana's scowl faded. The anger that embraced her in a tight, unforgiving hold released itself. She was bringing Quinn down the only way she knew how. They only way she was taught.
Santana leaned up against the foyer wall of their Manhattan Brown Stone. It had been the worst day. Her father had died on Tuesday and today they put him in the ground. She was eight years old. Weren't funerals for old people? And worst of all her mother hadn't been there. Hiram, her stepfather, was taking care of them. Where was Mom?
Suddenly the man in question went storming past her and out the door.
"What are you doing?" she asked as Hiram returned in the house.
"Where's your brother and sister?" he sneered.
"I don't know," Santana said. "Where's my mom?"
"Shut up, Santana," he hissed as he grabbed one last suitcase and threw it into the beat up Chevy. "Go get your brother and sister."
She looked out the window. Where did he get that ugly car? They could just call a driver. Couldn't they?
He stomped back up the steps.
"What did I just say?" he yelled slamming the door behind him.
"What are we doing!" she challenged. "Where is my mom?"
He bent down so he was at her level. He gripped the shoulder of her black dress in his palm. "Shut up, Santana! You know where your great mother is? She left you. She went off to London because she doesn't love you. –''
"You liar!" Santana screamed trying to loosen his grip.
He lifted his free arm and his backhand slammed against her cheek. She whipped her head around and glared at him as she held her cheek.
"You are a little piece of shit, Santana. No want wants you. No one ever will love you! You're a failure! People will always be better than you! People you thought loved you will abandon you! They will betray you! And then they will die!" Hiram was shaking in fury and ultimately was shaking Santana. Santana had never seen him like this.
"Let go of my sister," Puck said pushing at Hiram's side forcing the man to loosen his grip.
"You little shit!" Hiram screamed holding his side. He pushed the boy down and kicked him in the stomach. "I get left with you little scums! And she gets everything! God damn it."
Santana knelt down by her brother. Silently asking him if he was alright.
"You two, listen and you listen good. Say goodbye to this house. We're leaving," Hiram barked as he started out of the room.
"I would rather die than go with you," Santana hissed.
He stopped at the doorway. "That can be arranged."
Santana turned to her older brother and helped him to his feet. "You okay?" He gave a nod as he held his stomach. "Where do you think he's going?" she asked.
She received her answer when a scream echoed through the old brown stone.
"Rachel," she whispered.
Santana was jolted back into reality when her mother touched her leg. She looked around. They were in the garage. She unbuckled and made her way quietly in the house.
…
The five of them sat around the table in silence. The clanging of the forks and knives seemed to amplify in the silence.
Rachel watched everyone carefully. She was waiting for someone to say something anything. She took another bite of her food but didn't tear her eyes away in case something happened. Her mother wiped her face off with her napkin and set it carefully on the table. Rachel straightened. Something was going to be said.
"Alright, we have some things to review as a family," Shelby began.
Quinn huffed and shook her head.
Shelby saw. Santana scowled at the disrespect and Puck looked between the girls in annoyance.
"Rules. You and you," she said pointing at Santana and Quinn. "Grounded until further noticed."
Both girls rolled their eyes but weren't surprised by the sentence. Rachel watched them with a young but fairly neutral face. Her mouth open, slightly ajar. She kicked her legs slightly as her mother continued to look around the table. Rachel noticed her sister's glare was different. There was no doubt that Santana was still angry, but there was something different about her glare. Quinn seemed different also. She looked genuinely uncomfortable. Her face reflected a discomfort that was greater than that caused by the air of the room. She looked physically uncomfortable. Did her sister hit her that hard?
"You," she pointed at her son. "Grounded for a week for your role as accomplice to Santana in her no-phone heist. No phone. School, practice, home, unless otherwise instructed."
Rachel watched her brother shrug with an absent and complacent look. As much of a big shot as he pretended to be, he seemed to care very little about his social life.
"Bug," her mother called getting her attention. Shelby looked at her youngest. "You're grounded for the evening. You will be doing your homework with this motley crew." Rachel's face fell.
"What?" the youngest brunette asked in disbelief.
Santana even took a break from glaring at Quinn to look at her sister in surprise. Rachel was rarely in trouble.
"Were you where you were supposed to be today?" Shelby asked with a rhetorical air as took a bite of her salad and waited for a response. Rachel looked at Puck with a look of betrayal. He looked at her and gave a confused shrug. "Don't blame him, Rachel. Mr. Schuester called me to discuss your lessons."
Rachel deflated. Santana looked at her sister with narrowed eyes. "Excuse me?" she asked with an arch of her brow. "Your what?"
She looked at her older sister with a cringe. She knew Santana didn't like Mr. Schuester. She watched her sister's angry face. Santana rarely liked anyone, she realized.
"My lessons," she said with a sigh.
"Mom, you can't be serious?" Santana asked in annoyance.
"They're with Kurt, San. Don't get your panties in a wad," Rachel grumbled.
"Rachel," Shelby warned.
"Why is this such a big deal?" Quinn asked.
"No one asked you," Santana barked.
"Santana," Shelby warned.
Quinn felt so out of place. She watched as Santana and Rachel spat about Mr. Schuester, the Q-Tip Spanish teacher. She stared down at her plate. The placemats were in place. The glasses were on the right side. However, the things weren't how they should be placed. She shook her head slightly. Everything always had its place. While she basked in the ridiculousness of the "grounding" she was now experiencing, she knew that unquestionably she was the one out of place.
Quinn leaned against the antique table trying her best to pay attention. She knew she was going to mess it up anyway. It was an inevitability.
"Quinn, are you even listening to me?" her father's voice broke through the barrier of her thoughts.
"Yes, sir," she said quietly standing up.
"When I asked you to set the table, I meant for you to set the table," he barked. "What the hell does this look like? I gave you clear instructions. Are you an idiot or just plain stupid? It's not that hard, Quinn. Why do you make things so hard? Dinner parties are supposed to have something nice to present. You have managed to make our table look like a mess. People will think we're poor, God-less, hobos."
Quinn looked at the table. She had placed the cloth-napkin wrapped silverware to the left of the plates instead of in the center of all of the plates.
"Quinn."
She looked back at her father. She took a deep breath. She knew what was coming.
"Go upstairs and wait for me." His tone was icy. It always was.
"Quinn? Quinn?"
She looked up and Rachel was staring at her.
"Are you finished with your meal?" Rachel asked.
She gave a slight nod. She looked up and saw Santana glaring at her as she loaded the dishwasher in the adjoining kitchen.
"San?" Rachel called. "San?"
Santana continued to exchange a harsh look with Quinn for a few more seconds before she broke her gaze and took the plates from her sister. Santana watched as her mother called Quinn out of the room.
Quinn rolled her eyes and scowled at Santana, but followed Shelby up the stairs.
Santana watched her leave the room. "Why do you hate her so much?" she heard her sister ask. She looked down at her briefly and then looked away to rinse the plates.
"I don't, Rach," she said quietly. "Go get your homework, okay?"
"San," Rachel started again.
"Rach, go," she scolded. Rachel jumped and cowered back. Santana squeezed her eyes shut in regret. "I'm sorry. Just go, okay?"
"Kay," she said quietly.
….
Shelby closed Quinn's bedroom door.
"I don't need you to help me," Quinn said going into the adjoining bathroom and closing the door.
"I highly doubt that," Shelby said gently handing Quinn a glass of water and a handful of pills. "This medicine will make you tired remember. Please try not to fight sleep tonight."
"Whatever," Quinn said taking the pills in her palm and looking at them for a moment.
"Do you have a reason not to take them?" Shelby asked as she sat next to her.
"Stop trying to be my friend," Quinn barked. She slowly took the first few pills.
"I'm not your friend, Quinn. And I'm not trying to be. I'm trying to be a parent. You are taking this medicine. Now, are you going to let me help you?" Shelby asked. "You're looking flushed. And I know you must feel like crap."
Quinn refused to look at her. She didn't want to hear this. She didn't remember the last time she had been coddled. Her mother was never nurturing. Caring parents were fictional. They were as realistic as the old black and white movies on television
Shelby tried again. "Do you want to tell me why you slept on the floor?"
Quinn didn't reply but she tensed.
"Alright," Shelby said. "Do you want to let me help you?"
"Not really," Quinn said quietly.
"Quinn, are we going to fight like this all night?" Shelby asked honestly.
"Probably," the blond grumbled. "You don't know anything about me."
Shelby chuckled. "You're going to pull that card again?" She sat on the bed next the girl. Quinn shifted away from her. "Well, Quinn, you might think that I don't know anything about you but I know that you know that you're safe here, you just don't want be vulnerable here. Can I tell you a secret?"
"Whatever," Quinn muttered.
"You're not the only one who doesn't want to be vulnerable," she said gently.
"Your daughter isn't as great as you think she is," she spat.
"She pretends to be a lot of things," Shelby said with a smirk. "Just like you."
A silence fell over them. Quinn shook her head and still avoided Shelby's eyes. Shelby watched as the girls hazel eyes examined her hands. Finally, she spoke. "As heartwarming as this moment is, can we move on?" she finally said quietly.
Quinn peeled off her top and silently handed Shelby the antibiotic cream.
"Thank you," Shelby whispered.
"Whatever," she replied.
"Quinn, the attitude needs to stop," Shelby said gently. "I get that you're angry.—''
"You really don't," Quinn said shaking her head. "That never should have happened. I'm here because…." She trailed off.
Shelby continued to rub the ointment on Quinn's infected wound. She nodded silently and waited a few beats before she spoke. "Quinn, what happened never should have happened—''
"I'm not talking about this," she snapped. "Are you finished?"
Shelby sighed. "Yes."
Quinn pulled on a loose t-shirt and a McKinley High sweatshirt. She reached for her yoga pants and noticed Shelby still standing there. "Are you just going to stand there?"
"Attitude, Quinn," Shelby corrected. "You're grounded remember. You have five minutes to change and then come downstairs with your homework."
"I don't have any," she snapped.
"Quinn, every time you use that attitude of yours you get an extra day of grounding," Shelby warned.
"This 'grounding' that you punish me with isn't a punishment," Quinn retorted.
Shelby tilted her head. "Trust me, little girl, it is. You haven't even been here a week."
"I'm not going to be here long," she said with a frustrated say. "How many times do I have to tell you?"
"Quinn, five minutes. Homework downstairs. I will be looking over every answer," Shelby said. Her voice was still calm.
"I don't have any," she said folding her arms.
"Santana has homework. You share classes. You have some." She started for the door. "Every time you lie another day is added on. I'm getting tired of this, Quinn."
The blond shook her head as Shelby left the room. Who the hell did that woman think she was? She couldn't even keep track of how many times she had asked herself that question.
There was a knock at the door. She pulled on her yoga pants.
"WHAT!" she screamed as she threw the door open.
She released a frustrated sigh when she saw a tiny brunette outside her door. "Hi," Rachel said quietly.
"What do you want?" Quinn huffed as she began rummaging through her backpack.
She gave an even louder sigh when she saw the smaller girl sit on her bed.
"Was it your dad?"
Quinn froze at the question. Why was this child asking her this?
"Shut up, Rachel," she growled. "Please leave."
"It was, wasn't it?"
"What would you know about it?" Quinn barked.
Her façade deteriorated when she noticed the silence that she met. She stopped searching in her bag and looked back at the girl on the bed. There was drooping in her posture as if she was concealing. Quinn looked back at her regretfully.
"I'm sorry," she whispered sitting next to the girl. "I….um….." She honestly didn't know what to say. As she looked at the tiny brunette, it sunk in. Where was their father? She received an answer without asking for it.
"My….. my dad died," Rachel whispered. She looked at her hands.
Quinn felt her sympathy falling away. The girl's dad was dead. She knew nothing. Quinn felt an inkling of betrayal at her own instincts to sympathize with her. The girl couldn't know. She just couldn't.
"So what would you know about it?" Quinn asked with only a slightly less harsh tone.
She finished gathering her books. She returned her gaze to the girl. She watched as Rachel carefully chose her words. Finally, silence was broken.
"Sometimes people are already monsters and you just don't want to see it…. or you can't." She sighed. "And other times people aren't and some how they become them without even their knowing….And then you get to a point where it's too late and you can't come back from it."
Quinn stared at her. She just stared at her. So much from the entire day started to erupt in her. The move in. The new jail she was in. Her body aches. Her fight with Santana. Her anger rose to top.
"Rachel, you have no idea what you're talking about," Quinn hissed. "Do you want me to talk to you about monsters?"
"Back the fuck off, Fabray," Santana yelled from the door. Neither girl had seen her pass by.
"No! No! NO!" Quinn screamed as she stepped toward Rachel. "Fuck all of you and your fucking shit!"
Santana stepped in and pulled Rachel to the door. "I said back off!"
"Look around you, Santana!" Quinn screamed. "Look at this house. Don't for one second think that you know me."
"Oh shove it, Quinn," Santana barked back. "Don't act like you weren't born with a silver spoon in your mouth. I've seen your house."
"Don't you dare!" the blond screamed throwing her books in frustration.
Santana moved out of the way.
"Oh right, poor innocent Quinn!" Santana mocked. She continued with her mocking voice to say, "Daddy did it, didn't he?"
Quinn froze. Her anger rose. It more than rose, it exploded in her.
"Shut the fuck up!" Quinn screamed after about a minute of silence. She grabbed a nearby lamp. This time she threw the lamp at Santana. Shattering the ceramics to the floor.
"You fucking bitch!" Santana screamed lunging at her. "Don't fucking break our stuff."
The brunette pushed her hard against the wall and grabbed Quinn's duffle and ran it to the window. She ripped open the window. She barely flinched at the alarm sounding, nor did either girl notice the tiny brunette in the corner sob harder at the sound.
"No!" Quinn screeched.
Santana tackled Quinn to the ground. Quinn attempted to push her off of her. She slapped Santana across the face with her open palm. Santana flinched but barely long enough for her to bring her arm back and slap the blond hard. The two of them rolled on the floor screaming. Santana gained the upper hand again and started to stand up. Quinn reached and kicked the back of Santana's knees causing the girl to fall face first. The girls' anger now took the reigns and embraced them. The flying arms, the open slaps and the screaming increased the noise. Both girls seemed unphased by the alarm still screaming around them and they also didn't notice the shaking and sobbing little girl on the floor who now managed to sink into the corner. Both girls managed to get back to their feet and started to launch at each other again. Quinn ignored her body's protests. She felt like she was losing the battle, but she wasn't going to let this girl win. She couldn't. She let her intense anger lead her as she brought another hand back to slap Santana down. However, her palm never made it in contact with the girl's face. She felt an arm wrap around her waist. She tried to scramble out of it.
Quinn's eye came into focus as she watched Puck slam the window shut and then run back out the door. She heard Shelby's far off voice trying to get Santana's attention as she was held in Shelby' s arms. Santana was breathing heavily. Her breaths were almost strained. She knocked everything off of the desk with a scream of fury. A blur ran past her and she watched Puck wrap his arms around Santana's mid section.
Santana was shaking out of control. She couldn't breathe. All she wanted to do was kill Quinn Fabray. If she couldn't kill her, she wanted to throw every punch and every object. She needed to relieve the pressure in her chest. She needed to just explode. She felt an arm wrap around her mid section from behind and another wrap around her shoulders and pull her body close to him.
"Calm down," she heard her brother's voice. "You're scaring her!"
"Let go of me," Santana hisses wanting to smack Quinn into next week.
Her brother shook her lightly and turned her body. "Look at her, Santana! Stop it! Now!"
Santana looked in the direction that her brother directed her gaze in. Rachel was shaking. She was sobbing in the corner, shaking. Her knees were pulled up to her chest. She was staring at Santana in fear.
Santana instantly relaxed as guilt washed over her. She tried to get out of her brother's grip.
"Rachel, I –''
"NO," Puck whispered into her ear. "You caused this, San. Back off. Go to your room and cool down."
Quinn couldn't struggle very much in Shelby's arms. Her body was giving in. The medicine was wearing her down.
"Quinn, breathe," she heard Shelby whisper into her ear. She watched as Puck led Santana out of the room. She noticed Rachel in the corner and before she could ask. Puck returned to the room and scooped her up and carried her out. Shelby watched her son leave and then turned to Quinn. "You need to go to bed. This was not okay."
"What happened?" Quinn asked motioning toward Rachel.
The blonde watched as Shelby looked sadly at Quinn and then back behind her toward the door. Finally, she spoke. "Things have happened to Rachel. To all of them, Quinn. And Rachel can't cope with the kind of behavior that you and Santana just displayed. It's not okay on so many levels. Do you understand?" Her voice was gently but still firm.
Quinn nodded.
"Are you hurt anywhere? Did you open up your back more?"
She shook her head. "I don't think so." She felt her exhausted body giving in.
"Go to sleep. I will check on you in the morning," Shelby said.
Quinn eased against the pillows and watch Shelby leave. Her body ached. She squeezed her eyes shut remembering her lamb was all the way across the room. The door to the bedroom reopened and she instinctively held her breath. Shelby gave her a weak smile and went over to her bag. She dug out the lamb and handed it to Quinn.
"I don't want you getting up," Shelby said quietly kissing Quinn on the forehead. She motioned toward the bathroom door. "I'll be in Santana's room. You can get there through your bathroom."
Quinn barely had time to wrap her mind around all that happened as sleep overtook her body.
…
Puck rocked Rachel softly in his lap in the big glider chair in Rachel's room next to her bed. She was still crying into he shoulder. He could feel her body shaking. He could feel her breaths hiccup in her chest and strain her breathing. He rubbed her back soothingly.
"You're okay, bug," he muttered. "I'm right here."
"I w-w-want, Mom," Rachel whispered. Her tears were soaking his shirt.
"Mom's with San," he told her. "You're stuck with me." He cracked a small smile.
"I wannnt, Sanny," Rachel whispered her breaths still caught in her chest.
"She's too angry right now, babe," he said softly. "You need to calm down and breathe."
"No-o-o-oah," Rachel sobbed. "P-p-please."
"Shhh, Rach," he tried to sooth as he rubbed her back.
She pushed herself up with her small palms pushing against his shoulders. She looked at him as tears cascaded down her face.
"P-p-pl-'' the small girl tried to get out but her breathes became more hitched in her throat. She could barely suck in enough air to breathe.
Puck frowned and gave a heavy sigh. He picked her up and placed her back in the chair. He opened Rachel's closet and spotted the nebulizer on the top shelf. He turned back to Rachel and started to set it up on the small side table between the wooden glider and her bed. As he finished up and plugged it in, he looked down at Rachel. Her entire torso heaved with strained breaths, but she shook her head. She hated using the nebulizer. She always had.
"N-n-n-noo," she managed to get out. He looked down at her and ran his hand over her head.
"Be right back," he whispered.
"No-o-o-oah," Rachel sobbed. "P-p-please."
He left the room and closed the door behind him. He saw Santana laying against their mother across the hallway. Santana sat up slightly at the sight of her brother. Her face was clearly distraught and the tracks of her tears were evident.
"Is she –'' Santana asked sitting up, but Puck cut her off.
"Mom, are her meds for the neb in the medicine closet?" he asked refusing to look at Santana.
Shelby nodded. "Twenty minutes, Noah. We can hear her from across the hallway. She needs to take the whole thing."
Puck nodded and left from sight. He opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the medicine and returned to the room. He glared at Santana once last time and went back into Rachel's room closing the door behind him.
She was right where he had left her. Her sobs and breaths still looked trapped in her chest as she heaved with greater intensity. He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead and loaded the nebulizer. He lifted her up for a second and settled back into the glider and pulled her into his lap. He handed her the mouthpiece of the nebulizer. She weakly pushed it away.
"Rachel," he said in a serious tone. "I'm not fighting you on this tonight. I'll hold it for you but you need to let me help you."
She gave in and settled against his chest. He rocked her silently in the glider
The arm that wasn't holding the nebulizer for her was wrapped gently around her middle. She rested her hands on his. She felt so small in his arms. He closed his eyes and felt her breathing against his chest. Her back heaved against her chest. He wanted to scream at Santana but he knew that wasn't what Rachel needed. He began humming in her ear. He began humming the only song that could calm her ever since she was little.
He remembered the first day that Rachel came home from the hospital. She had had to spend more time there than normal babies because she was born too early. He remembered hearing that song all through the house. After everything that had happened, no one had wanted to hear it. However, after Rachel got out of the hospital, it was one of the first things she had wanted to hear. What had become a haunting reminder of what no longer was, continued to be a comfort for one person.
He adjusted his guitar in his arms. It was way to big for him. However, his father helped to adjust the instrument's position so it fit his body with ease. He placed his fingers on the stings for the right cord and strummed. He looked up at his father.
"Was that it?" he asked.
Leroy gave a hearty laugh. "Sure was, buddy."
"Do you think I can learn all of the song?" he asked.
"Noah, you may be a seven year old genius son of mine, but learning how to play an instrument and a Beatles song in one day is a bit of a high expectation don't you think?" Leroy laughed.
Noah rolled his eyes. "I guess so."
"We can sing the song though," Leroy said. "Your mom will be home any minute." He looked around the kitchen of their Manhattan apartment. "Sanny, where are you, pumpkin?"
"I'm hiding, Daddy," Noah heard his sister yell from the cabinet.
"Daddy, Sanna's in the cupboard again," Noah tattled.
"Don't give it away!" Santana yelled from the cupboard.
"San, come out and help us sing the song. Rachie needs to eat," Leroy said.
He watched with a smirk as Santana emerged from the cabinet like a sleuthing cat. Leroy picked up Rachel from the playpen and set her in her high chair.
"How does it begin?" Leroy asked with a grin as he buckled Rachel in.
"Close your eyes and I'll kiss you," Santana sang with a smile.
Noah watched his father watch Santana with pride. He smiled and opened his eyes and began to sing. Rachel loved this song. He was going to sing it better than Santana. He was sure of it.
Back in the present, Puck finally let the lyrics take over and he sang softly to her as he held the nebulizer for her.
"Close your eyes and I'll kiss you,
Tomorrow I'll miss you
Remember I'll always be true.
And then while I'm away,
I'll write home ev'ry day,
And I'll send all my loving to you."
He leaned his cheek closer to her forehead and felt her breaths soften. Things hadn't been perfect then. However, it had been great enough. At seven, he had an illusion that his parents were happy, but they weren't. The entire family had been together at that time. Rachel stirred in his arms and she tried to push the nebulizer away.
"No, Rach," he said. "Ten more minutes."
She sighed and he continued to sing softly as she gave in to the treatment.
I'll pretend That I'm missing
the lips I am missing
And hope that my dreams will come true.
And then while I'm away,
I'll write home ev'ry day,
And I'll send all my loving to you.
All my loving I will send to you.
All my loving, darling I'll be true.
Puck felt her body relax slightly in his arms. He shifted and brought her over to the bed. He eased back against her pillows and laid Rachel on top of his chest so that he could still hold the nebulizer's mouthpiece. He rocked her gently and continued to sing.
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you,
Tomorrow I'll miss you:
Remember I'll always be true.
And then while I'm away,
I'll write home ev'ry day,
And I'll send all my loving to you
All my loving I will send to you.
All my loving darling I'll be True.
All my loving All my loving ooh
All my loving I will send to you
He finished the song and saw that the treatment was finished. He put the Nebulizer away.
"Rach?" he asked quietly. "Are you asleep? Rachel?"
Noah silently tried to stand up. He felt a steal grip on his shirt.
"Stay," she whispered tiredly.
"Okay, bug," he muttered. "Okay."
…..
Santana continuously stared at the door with regret. She looked at her mother apologetically.
"Please let me go and see her," Santana pleaded.
"I cannot, San," Shelby said. "You're too upset."
"I didn't mean it, Mom. Please. I need to let her know she's okay," she begged.
"No," Shelby said again. She wrapped her arm around her eldest daughter. "Breathe, Santana. Your heart is beating too fast. You need to calm down."
Santana shook. She couldn't grasp that she had done that. There was so much that she couldn't say. She couldn't breathe. She hadn't felt like this in years. She couldn't function. She had broken her own sister. She had been responsible for that fear. That was even more paralyzing.
"There we go, San," Shelby whispered. "Just relax. Breathe." Shelby soothed.
"Mom, I didn't … I didn't mean it," Santana muttered her breaths were still ragged.
"Santana, we'll talk about this more in the morning, but nothing was okay tonight. I see that you're mad. I see that. I am going to call tomorrow morning to see if you can get in and see Dr. Jacobs tomorrow okay? This anger is coming from somewhere and –''
"It's her, Mom, it's living with her," Santana said through her teeth.
Shelby sighed. "I'm going to say this once, Santana. I know it's just not her. It's okay to be angry, but this is absolutely unacceptable. These fights are not okay. You understand what she's going through, but you're not allowing yourself to." Shelby took a deep breath and lifted her chin so that Santana was looking at her. "She wants someone to hit her, San, that's all she knows and you're not helping."
She watched her daughter as the words settled in.
"Mom, please let me see Rachel," Santana said after a few minutes.
"No, baby," Shelby said. "Not until the morning."
Shelby rubbed her daughter's back. She knew a thousand things must be going through her mind, but right now she just wanted to get her asleep.
The house was finally quiet. Shelby could hear the soft snores of Santana against her chest. With the bathroom door open she could hear Quinn's gentle breathing from her room. She squeezed her eyes shut. What was she thinking? When she was growing up, she never thought that this would be her life. When she said yes to marriage and to Leroy, she never thought that this would be her life would be. When she said yes to her career, when she decided to go back to school, when she had sleepless nights of writing her dissertation as she rocked one of her babies back to sleep, she didn't think her life would be like this. She wasn't sure at what point she became so oblivious, but she knew the point over the past eight years she had been working to fight her way back.
She looked down at her daughter. Her dark hair and her soft breathing. People had their pre-conceived notions about Santana. Most every parent was biased to their own children. However, very few people knew Santana like Shelby knew her. Shelby combed her hand through her daughter's hair unconsciously. Most people probably never would, she realized in the darkness of the room. However, that was a challenge that she faced. She couldn't help but feel responsible for that. She always would.
Shelby paced around the CPS office. They were in a playroom. It was surrounded by toys and games. There were a few comfy couches. It was meant to mimic a home environment but it surely wasn't home. She sighed. She hadn't seen her children in months. She hadn't been allowed to. She looked up at the clock for the millionth time.
"They will be here," Natalie told her. "The case aide is picking them up now."
"Is Rachel coming?" Shelby asked.
Natalie shook her head. "No, she's still not able to get around. Next week maybe two weeks."
Shelby wiped away a tear. Focus on the other two, she reminded herself. Just breathe. She heard the door to the visitation room open. She stood up. She felt her heart catch.
"Mom!" Noah screamed and ran to her. Shelby knelt down and opened her arms. He hugged her tightly. At nine years old, he had a strong grip. Her strong boy, she thought to herself. She let him hug her. She held him tightly not wanting to let go. She looked up at the door and saw her Sanny. She felt her heart stop. Her eyes were so different. While the eight year old had always been tough as nails, there was something different in her eyes now. Shelby felt Noah loosen his grip. With his arm, still around his mother's shoulders, he looked at his sister.
"Come on, San. It's Mom," Noah said.
Santana scowled and looked at the case aid and then again at Natalie. Shelby watched as angry tears formed in Santana's eyes. She sprinted at her mother. Shelby never felt so terrible.
"You left us," she screamed. She hit Shelby with her tiny fists. Shelby barely had time to register that her hits were actually hurting her. "You left us!"
"Santana," Shelby said gently. "Santana, I'm so sorry."
Shelby wrapped her arms around her daughter's body despite the hits from her. Santana continued to punch her chest for a few more seconds before she collapsed into her mother allowing her anger and sorrow to overtake her as she sobbed.
"I didn't know, baby," Shelby hushed into Santana's ear. "I'm so sorry."
Please let me know your thoughts. Please review. Thank you all for following