Open Wounds

by 216BLT

AU: The past is the past. Puck, Santana, & Rachel Corcoran have moved on from theirs, but when their mother decides to take in a teen, old memories resurface. Also, new scars are made as they navigate through adolescence, ones that might not heal.

64. Chapter 64

Chapter 64

Cookie07: Thank you thank you for your long review. I absolutely love Noah/Santana too! Their bond is so important. They really keep each other afloat. Santana and Shelby is also a great connection that I enjoy exploring they are very much. You can definitely feel angry with Michael People have been very careful with Rachel but their less careful with Santana because her reactions are different. It's certainly not an excuse. Rachel's issues are very loud and obvious and Santana's are forgotten. It's certainly something that i've been exploring from the beginning. This family is FAR from perfect in how they've dealt with things and that is being explored in this chapter a little bit. I certainly don't think every child especially every child with a diagnosis needs to be medicated. People forget or are unaware that once children are medicated they still only see their psychiatrist once a month and they see their clinician or therapist once a week. Psychiatrist is primarily there to regular the medication not do the clinical work. Thank you so much for your two cents! I always love and look forward to long reviews. I'm so grateful that you took the time to give me your thoughts and opinions. I hope that you enjoy this next chapter. Thank you again!

alopez208 – Thank you so much for reading this story and rereading it. This family is going through so much. Noah is a great big brother to all his sisters. Shelby is such a great mom – I feel so much for her. Sorry for the delay – these chapters are sometimes very emotional for me as well so it can take a while to get out. I am sorry but I am forever grateful for your patience. Thank you.

LupitaTequila13 – Sorry I made you cry but you may need some tissues for this chapter as well. Thank you so much for your review.

Abbie – Thanks so much for the review. Its ok that you did not review. I love them but I know people get busy. It does happen to things in the hospital and it is very sad. But Gretchen will teach Rachel there are other ways to cope.

OTHangels – Thank you

Sarah11650 – Santana doesn't mean to break things she is just overwhelmed and this was a way she coped but she will learn to do it differently. They will not be sending her away. Your reviews are not all over the place and I am grateful for your reviews. Thank you

1moredreamer – Gretchen needs to be aggressive and get to know the family quickly – she has a very large task in front of her. All of the kids are in for some new ways to approach things. Rachel especially has to relearn things and it is going to be very carefully planned out because there is a lot of levels that she was traumatized. We will have to see how successful it is. Never apologize for a long review I love it. Thank you as always.

HannahWilliam33 – The girls are going through a lot right now but they have a lot of help to get them through this. Thank you for your review.

thelastcenturian – Thank you for your continued support.

Kimberlli – Gretchen will be a strong help for this family and she will have a great team behind her. Will will hopefully get what he deserves. Thank you for reviewing.

krazyy989 – They do need a break and they may get one soon. Thanks for the review.

Asmodeus Poisonteeth – I hope you enjoy this one – it took some time to write but parts of it were hard. Thank you for reviewing.

TommyH – Lots more to come as well. I hope you like. Thank you for the review.

leamicheleisawesome – Thank you so much. Rachel will make slow progress but she will come out soon.

JWilson18 – Sometimes I am on the edge of my seat too – lol – Thank you so much for your support. I am so happy that you like it.

Lolathe17th – Santana is very sad right now. All twisted up and not knowing how to cope – she will get there I promise though. Elyse was good but just needing help. Shelby meant that Santana was physically sick. She knows her daughter needs help though to cope with everything she has been dealt. Thank you so much for your review.

croque – Quinn doesn't have a spleen and because of it she gets sicker easier and longer but they are making adjustments – plus stress can make you sick and she has been under a great deal of stress. Thank you for the review.

BMontague- No need to apologize I love long reviews ! You are right most of the time when the issues hit very close to home with the people you love its hard to stay objective and do things that you know are in the best interest of everyone. I am both excited and nervous that you had several colleagues read the story. Noah is a big part of the story and sometimes I feel he doesn't get in the story as much as I would like. He is more observant than the adults realize and he is a great benefit to his sisters. It was time for a change from Elyse, while she was great with them this new trauma is overwhelming and Gretchen and her team will help immensely. Quinn is very sick and can get that way very quickly. My beta is a single mom and she would be out of her mind if her little boy was as sick as Quinn or any of these kids are but Shelby is strong and with the rest of the family around she has great support. At this point Shelby needs a bottle of wine and a week in the spa! Thank you so much again for your in-depth review. I love reading and hearing from all my readers. It fuels me and makes me hopefully become a better writer.

Guest – Intense is right but it will start to get better. Thanks for reviewing – I am glad you are enjoying this.

Guest-raven – That's right that is all Quinn wants is Shelby, Shelby is her mother now and who doesn't when they are sick. I'm impressed that you have reread the chapter so many times. It is a tough read. Nana and Pop and Bear weren't really mean they are just at a loss at how to help the ones they love. Thank you for the review.

zuperkt – I nor you should ever lose hope for the Corcorans. But they will have to go through more intense therapy to get past their latest struggles. Thank you for reading and reviewing.

Ryoko05 – That is why they know Santana's therapy needs to change – she is breaking at all ends and its time to really fix it and teach her to cope better. Thanks for reviewing.

amandaes417 – Thank you so much. Santana is slowly letting someone in but it will be slow because she has blocked it for years. San has a lot to say she just doesn't know how to say it and at this point Santana wants to change but at the same time she is scared to do it Thanks for reviewing.

Thank you everyone for your patience. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I did post the song that I used in the chapter on my tumblr. Please let me know what think.

Despite what the nurses had told her, Santana had pushed her bed as obnoxiously close to Rachel and Quinn's as possible. It was inches away from both of them and Santana couldn't understand why this was an issue. Doctors could still get to them on the other side. She was just in the hospital bed bitch seat. They were making a bigger deal than it needed to be. She looked in the hallway. Her mother's brow was furrowed as her grandmother, aunt and uncle talked with Brittany's father.

"Excuse me, you can't sit-" the intern began but Santana glared at her with a deep set frown, silencing her.

"San," Noah said from the chair on the other side of Rachel's bed. He arched his brow at her. "They can't check them if you're that close."

"Shut up," Santana said with a sneer.

Noah frowned. "San, seriously?"

Santana sighed and looked at the intern with a tilt of her head. "Could you please try to work around me?"

"Santana, you cannot have your bed there," Shelby said as she entered the room from the hallway. "Please move it back."

Santana leaned over to Rachel. "I'll be right back," she whispered. She patted Quinn's bed as she moved off of hers. "Noah, help me."

Noah groaned and moved the bed with Santana with loud huffs of discontent as the other relatives filtered into the room.

"Where's Dad?" Shelby asked Joey.

"He's still at the courthouse," she said quietly, but Santana could still hear her and she caught her bandages on the side of the bed.

"Santana, please be cautious of your bandages please," Tom pleaded.

"Can we just commend me that they're still on?" Santana asked. She motioned toward Quinn. "She took hers off with a saw."

Quinn gave a weak smile and nodded from her bed silently.

"She agrees," Santana said pointing at Quinn.

"Not funny, San," Shelby called out.

Helen sighed and looked at Joey and Bear. "I'm going to go get everyone some food."

"Why? No one is eating," Santana asked.

She watched her aunt and her mother talk silently with their eyes. It reminded Santana of how she could look at Quinn or Rachel and just know what they were thinking. Her mother met her gaze.

"A large vanilla latte," Shelby said with a smile as if they hadn't been caught chatting silently.

Joey rolled her eyes and kissed the kids quietly. "She'll be back before you know it."

"Santana, you and I are going to go home and wash up and then we're going to come back," Shelby said casually as she pulled on her coat.

Santana looked at her brother and Quinn and then looked in Rachel's direction. She stared back down at her hands. "I …. I can't go. I'm a patient. Plus … Nana just left... why are we leaving?"

"Dr. Pierce is going to sign the discharge papers for you, San. Nana is going to come back here after she's done and Bear and Noah will stay. We're just going to go home for a bit and then come back. Noah went home last night and I think we can get you home to get showered and changed."

"I brought my clothes, Mom. I'm fine," she said pointing to her bag.

"San," Shelby said. " We'll be back before you know it."

Santana looked over at her brother. "... Why?""

"Why will we be back before you know it?" Shelby asked with a smile as she sat next to Santana on her bed. She rubbed Santana's back. "Come on."

Santana looked at her brother. "I... I want to know why you were talking to that woman..."

"What woman?"

"The woman that you were talking to," Santana said with a roll of her eyes.

Shelby looked at her son and looked at Quinn's tired eyes. "I was going to talk to you about that stuff when we got back."

"I want to talk about it now," Santana said as she stood up and went over to Rachel's bed and sat on the edge.

Rachel shifted slightly but continued to lie facing away from her.

Shelby looked at them. She looked at her sister for a moment and then looked back at the kids.. "We're going to make some changes around here," Shelby began.

"What?" Noah asked as his face fell. That didn't sound good at all.

Quinn attempted to sit up from her own bed.

"Stay put, Quinn," Shelby said quietly. She sighed and tried to say casually, "The woman that I talked to was a trauma therapist and we're going to work with her team-"

"Why?" Santana interrupted.

"She's getting there," Quinn said weakly.

"We're going to work in with the team.-"

"I don't get it," Noah interrupted. Quinn snapped with a frown but then rested her hand back on Shelby's in exhaustion.

"They have a handful of people who work together and will meet with you," Shelby said. "You won't be seeing Elyse anymore."

"Why?"

"Maybe because she hasn't been doing her job," Noah muttered.

Santana looked over her shoulder at Rachel who still wasn't speaking. She felt her own eyes sting with tears. She hadn't been in the courtroom. She couldn't figure out what was going in Rachel's head. She was so far away and Santana didn't know how to reach her and more terrifyingly, she didn't know what to say to bring her back.

"I think that they need that," Santana admitted quietly.

Noah snapped his gaze over to his sister in surprise. When they were little he and Santana always played Batman and Robin. Of course, Santana insisted that she was Batman. Either way they were a duo, he was going to stick by her no matter what.

"I think... I might want to talk to someone," Noah began quietly. He could feel Santana's eyes look sharply toward him. He turned and met Santana's gaze. "I just … I think it would be good... for all of us."

She searched his eyes and then looked at Quinn. She could feel everyone else's eyes on hers. She looked over at Rachel. She felt like she was thinking a million thoughts all at once. They were in the hospital again. They were all in pieces on the floor. She didn't even know where to begin to put things back together.

"Rachel?" she attempted.

Rachel didn't move.

"Maybe..." Santana whispered looking at her mother. "Maybe we can get her something else to hold... because she doesn't want to be held and …. she doesn't have George." She searched her mother's eyes. "Right?"

Shelby looked at her. Santana could tell that her mother had so much to say, to ask and to answer, but Santana didn't want to hear it. She just needed things all to be glued back together. That's all she could handle.

"I'm okay," Quinn whispered. "I'm okay."

"Shut up, you're wheezing like a whoopie cushion," Santana hissed.

"Like what?" Joey asked from where she was kneeling on the other side of the bed. "Rachel, look at me, kiddo."

"Leave her be, Jo," Shelby whispered. "We can't push her."

Shelby and Santana watched them thoughtfully. "Is it because of George?" she asked with a weight in her chest.

Shelby looked as Santana with a soft kiss as Rachel seemed to weakly bring her knees up closer to her chest and fold into herself. "No, San," she whispered.

Santana looked at her mother. "This new woman... is new?... and you think that maybe she'll help us?"

Shelby gave a nod. "I think it might be good to talk with someone new. You'll still have Elyse to talk to if you want to, but Gretchen and her team will be there too."

Santana looked over at Rachel searching for a sign...anything. Rachel didn't move. Maybe that's what they needed. They needed change because everything they've ever done wasn't working.

Santana turned to her mother tearfully. "We'll do it." She looked over at Quinn with desperation in her eyes. "Please, Quinn we have to try."

Noah took Santana's hand. "We'll all try."

Santana gave her brother a smile and squeezed his hand and wipes her tears with her other hand. She turned and looked at Quinn hoping to convince her of the necessity of a new beginning, but she frowned when she saw that she was asleep again.

"We're going to be okay," Santana whispered to herself. She didn't know if that was true, but all she knew was that they couldn't cope with the alternative.

…

The drive from the hospital was silent. Shelby unbuckled her seatbelt and the release of the fastener seemed to echo in the silence car. She turned and looked at Santana with a heavy heart. She reached out and took her daughter's hand.

"San?" she asked quietly.

Santana squeezed her mother's hand and let out another sob. Shelby quickly pulled Santana close.

"San," she whispered.

"Mom, I don't understand... I don't understand what's going on. Everything is moving so fast but moving so slow all …. all at once," she said into her mother's neck.

Shelby squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed Santana's back quietly hushing her. "I know. Trust me, I know."

"You don't know," Santana said with a glossy stare as she relaxed in her mother's arms. "I …. I don't feel like me... I feel … I'm not me... With … Brittany...I … I almost …. ruined everything," she muttered. "Quinn can't stay awake. Aunt Joey is talking to Rachel like she's talking back... Pop-Pop is angry... and he's never angry... And …" Santana pulled away and looked at her mother. "Rachel -" she put her hand over her mouth and tried to shake back more tears. She furiously wiped them away. "What if Rachel doesn't come back?"

Shelby watched Santana battle. She may have had the right words to say, but right now they were too lost in her sorrow.

"I need to know how to make things right, mom," she whispered. Santana looked at her bandaged hands. "I don't … I don't know how to do this..."

"Santana, sweetheart, you're doing the best you can," Shelby whispered, still holding her hands. "You cannot blame you for this. Okay?"

"How can you not?" she said with a crack in her voice. She let out another sob. "I want him here, Mom." She let out a shaky breath and looked at her mother. "I can't stop wanting him to be here. Please... I need to make that go away."

Shelby looked at her tearfully knowing that Santana. "I wish that he was here all the time, too, San." She hugged Santana tighter. "All the time, but you are so like him with your tenacity and your strength."

Shelby held her close, knowing that there was a new box of secrets in Santana's heart that was being opened. She needed to nurture them out so that that box didn't close again. She needed to catch her as she fell.

Santana shook her head. "I'm not, Mom. I ruin all of it...I … I just …." She pulled back and looked at her mother with fresh tears tracing down her cheeks. "I need to learn not to miss him so much. I need you to teach me that. Please..." she whispered. "I need to know how to make this feeling go away."

Shelby couldn't hide her own anguish anymore. "What feeling, San?" Shelby asked.

"That one that makes me …. makes me feel like I'm drowning... It's like I'm looking for him all the time...I can't, Mom. I can't ."

"You can't what?" Shelby asked with a strangled sob.

"I can't miss him like this anymore. He's not here. He's not here... at all," she whispered.

"San, I miss him all the time too. It's okay to miss him," she said cupped her face. "I promise you that it's okay."

Santana shook her head. "It's not. It's not okay because I …. I'm just reminded how broken we all are because he's not here..." She looked up at her mother. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"San, what are you sorry for?" Shelby asked. She never understood all the guilt that Santana felt and her daughter never gave her access for it. Santana always took responsibility as if it were a duty and Shelby always tried to sift through the hints Santana dropped, but she never could access it completely.

"I wasn't tall enough... I couldn't reach the buttons," she whispered in an eerily calming voice. "I … I was with him... and he was looking at me..." she whispered. "He … he couldn't say anything he just held my cheek and he looked at me and … and... and then he wasn't looking at me anymore..." Santana looked at her mother with big eyes. "I … I couldn't reach the button."

It hit Shelby like a bullet to the heart. It all came back to Leroy. The day Santana took on the weight of the world was the day that her father left her in the elevator. She remembered Santana once told her that she had told Leroy that she would offer to change Rachel's diapers that day. She remembered that it was so random that she almost didn't even make note of it. It came out of the blue when they were out on an errand alone years ago. Santana was in a quiet mood and she had said in simple and distant voice that that day she told her father that she would change Rachel's diapers. Shelby saw more clearly than ever that it wasn't the diapers as much as it was the responsibility that Santana had taken, but it was a responsibility that Santana hadn't realized was too heavy and even now years later, she was still the tiny girl in the elevator wondering what was wrong with her and why she wasn't strong enough to carry all of the responsibility or … tall enough to reach the buttons.

Shelby pulled Santana in her arms tightly. "Santana, it is not your fault. None of this is your fault. It never was. Ever."

"Then... why does it feel like it?" she whispered.

….

Noah watched his aunt and grandmother talking in the hallway with the doctor. It had been an hour or so since his mother and sister left. Quinn had been tossing slightly. She was still sweating and Noah kelp listening to doctors talk numbers when they took her temperature. Noah had been listening but he didn't understand despite his curious eyes, but they saw him listening and were now talking in the hallway. He looked over at Rachel who still had barely moved despite the fact that her eyes were open and she had better color in her face.

While he was more used to Rachel chatting nervously, he was also familiar with this Rachel. He looked at her downcast eyes. He leaned forward with a small smile.

"Rach, I bet they're talking about you," He whispered as he leaned closer to her bed. He motioned toward Quinn. "She's out like a light still. Maybe you can wake her up, huh? And make her feel better with a bad joke?" Rachel didn't look up. He swallowed visibly with a heavy sigh. "You always had really bad jokes."

Joey entered into the room with a tight grin. "Guys, we're going to move Quinn for a bit..." Joey began.

Noah saw Rachel tense out of the corner of his eyes.

"They're going to move her down to the ICU," Joey said quietly.

"We should wait for Mom," Noah said quietly looking at Rachel. "Mom and San can't come back and have us moved... why can't Rachel go with her?"

"She just needs to stay here," Joey said gently.

Noah looked at Rachel and then back at his aunt. "You're going to go with Quinn?"

She nodded. "Nana could wait here with you."

Noah shook his head and nodded toward Rachel. "We'll be fine by ourselves."

Joey sighed. "We're just going to get her settled. Bear is on his way and he'll come and check on you two." Joey walked silently over to the bed. Noah knew that they were all supposed to act like she was still the same Rachel, but his aunt had the worst time of it. She kissed Rachel's head softly. "We'll be right back, bug. Stay with Noah, please."

Noah turned back to Rachel with a soft grin. "I brought some snacks for you." He said with a grin, but it faded slightly. "I know you might not like some stuff, but …. I brought it anyway..."

He pulled out a half eaten package of Oreos. More crinkles of the wrappers didn't have Rachel look up but Noah was pretty sure he saw her shift her eyes toward him. He arranged Skittles, a Butterfinger, Poptarts, and a package of Oreos, a candy bar and a sandwich bag of Goldfish.. He held up the bag of Goldfish.

"I brought these from home," he said with a tiny smile. "I remembered that they're your favorite. Do you remember?... You always liked them... even when you were vegan, you said it's okay it's not real cheese... Remember?"

Rachel didn't move. He leaned back and looked at her as he chewed lazily with his mouth open, hoping that his bad habits would get her to respond. It didn't work. He leaned back in his seat with a frown.

He frowned and looked around the room. The beeping and the noises seemed to surround him. He swallowed his food quietly and looked at the IV that seemed to be making the most noise in the world. He didn't need to hear the noises, because he knew them by heart. He had spent too much time in hospitals. He had spent too much time glaring at the animals on the wall. In this room, there were pictures on the wall of balloons and then there was a cartoon of monkeys on a bed. He knew that those things were there to make the kids feel better but he couldn't help but feel that they were mocking the children instead. It was as if they were telling them that their lives sucked so much they had to be surrounded by colors and animals in order to forget.

Noah looked back at Rachel and then back to the picture. He straightened and looked over at her with a heavy sigh. The noises and the smells of the sterile hospital brought him back to a different time and place.

He tilted his head and glanced into the hospital room.

"Noah , you can go in and say hello," Natalie said from behind him.

He frowned and looked up at the woman. "She's not going to say anything back.," he muttered.

Natalie scrunched on the balls of her feet in front of him. "Why do you think that?"

"Because she hasn't talked in awhile. She... she used to talk a lot. She used to sing songs and they... didn't even have words... and... she stopped," he mumbled as he leaned back in the hallway wall. "She just stopped."

"Well, it helps if you keep talking to her like she's still here," Natalie encouraged. "She can listen. She can hear you. You just have to let her know you're here."

Noah glared at her. "That easy, huh? You didn't let Santana come."

"Well, your sister was having a hard morning," Natalie said.

"She threw a chair... That's not just a hard morning," Noah mumbled. He looked back into the room. "You're breaking my sisters."

"I'm sorry," Natalie said. "I don't understand, Noah."

"Santana's always been angry. …. My mumma says she's just... passionate..." he shrugged. "You're all just making her more angry... angrierrrrr."

"Well, that's something that we'll work on with her," Natalie said. "Just like we'll work on making sure that Rachel talks."

Noah shook his head. "It's only going to get worse." He looked up at her. "My mom can make Rachel talk. She can make Santana calm down. She always could."

"Why? Was your sister mad before?" Natalie asked.

"She was angry when I put my gum in her oatmeal," he shrugged. "Or when Blaire Elliott down the street beat her in kickball. Blaire was pretty good."

Natalie nodded and leaned against the wall next to him. "Things have changed, Noah. Your sister isn't mad for the same things anymore."

"I know that," he snapped loudly. He looked into the room. His head snapped up and heard the monitors beep louder. "What's that?" He watched doctors and nurses rushed in and an intern told them that they needed to leave. He frowned and watched as they gave Rachel a mask. "You're ruining everything. My sisters don't need me. They need my mom."

"Well, your mom is doing what she needs to do but we all have to do things before you can go home," she said softly as she led him down the hallway.

In the present he opened her eyes and blinked to take in his surroundings.

"Hey, bud," Bear said from another chair across the room.

"What did she mean?" he asked.

"What?" Bear asked.

"Who?"

"Natalie, what did she mean?" Noah asked.

Bear glanced over at the bed. He could see Rachel's downcast eyes were shifting.

"Noah, what are you talking about?"

"She said that Mom needed to do things before we go back with her," Noah said remembering. "She didn't do anything wrong... why …. she didn't do anything wrong."

Bear nodded. "It wasn't that she did things wrong, Noah. It was that things had changed and …. the department was offering her support services so that you guys could get the help you needed," he said softly.

Noah shook his head. "Well, it didn't work. We didn't get any help that we needed." He shook his head more angrily. "You're not just changing the game on Santana. You're changing it on all of us... You just didn't tell me all of the rules."

"Noah, let's talk about this outside," he said as the heart monitor started to increase.

"Fine," Noah said. He walked over to te bed and knelt down in front of Rachel. "Bug, I'm going to be outside. Okay? I'm going to fix this."

Rachel didn't respond, but Noah stood and walked heavily into the hallway. He put his hands on his hips. "What happened? I want to know. I want to know because things are all connected. I remember New York." He placed his fist on his own chest. "I remember! I remember that Santana and I got kicked out of school and we came back here. I remember that... I remember how hard she tried and I remember that we went to every appointment that they asked us to. I remember that!" He shook his head. "But …. I … I was still angry. I was... I had to go away..." He looked up at his uncle. "Explain it to me. Explain to me why the game is changing."

"Noah, no one is being sent away. It's not about pointing fingers. Your mother and this family has done the best that they knew how to do-"

"But! But what?"

"What you feel, what the girls are going through. It's never going to go away overnight. It's may not ever go away... There have been so many opportunities for us to do better, but we were scared. We were scared because we remembered what it was like in New York. So we continued to walk on eggshells."

Noah frowned and looked at him. He felt a breath hitch in his chest. "That's not fair," he said shaking his head. "We... we tried."

"No one said that you all weren't trying your best, Noah," Bear said as his nephew's cupped his face. "But we were all in so many ways trying to build a house with no real plan. We can spend eternity pointing fingers at each other or we can try to move on."

Noah shook his head as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat but couldn't, causing the tension to be released through tears. "I thought that was what we were doing," he whispered.

"Noah, this is not your fault. Look at me, Noah," he whispered.

"I don't care about that anymore," he whispered. "It'll always be someone's fault. Santana always wonders what she could have changed if she was taller." He met his uncle's eyes. "I know her." He shook his head. "My mom always wonders about what if she didn't go to London. Rachel …. I know she thinks about now what if she said something... about Will … and Quinn wondered what would have happened if her parents had been caught earlier or she had said something. We can't live in the what if because that our whole life..." He shook his head. "I want to talk about the what now. I want to know what's going to happen now."

"We're waiting this out, Noah, in terms of the girls getting better," Bear began.

"Don't lie to me," he said with a frown. "You have a plan and I want to know it now. I'm eighteen. I'm not a kid anymore and I haven't been for a long time."

Bear looked at his nephew. He could see how much had changed in this one moment. "Quinn is having a VERY minor procedure done. So minor that your mother thought it would be easier and cause less strain if you kids didn't know about it. They're putting in a central port so they can get her medicine in faster and heal faster. Without her spleen, Noah, she can get sick very fast and this will get her the medicine she needs quicker."

Noah stared back at him, unsure if to be angry that they didn't mention it or grateful that he was telling him the truth. "... and it's minor?"

"It's super simple. She'll be in and out in no time."

"Isn't she scared?" Noah asked.

Bear chewed his lip. "Her fever is so high right now, Noah, that if we told her she wouldn't even know. She's in and out of consciousness so much."

"What about Rachel? and San?"

He glanced behind them into Rachel's room. "They're going into a day program upstairs."

"Why upstairs?" he asked.

"It's the pediatric psych unit," Bear said gently. "Santana, can go home if they want but they still want to try to observe Rachel. Her fever did break but... they want to watch her." "And when Quinn is well enough she will join both San and Rachel".

"... What for?" he asked.

"There's a concern if she continues the way that she is... not responding... it's not just that we want her to talk, Noah," Bear stated. "Her body is still weak. She's not eating... or functioning..."

"I … uh... I brought her snacks," he said quietly. "... She didn't... she wanted any."

Bear patted his shoulder. "I saw that," he smiled gently. "That's why Rachel will probably stay down here but attend the day program upstairs when she can. There's a concern that she might be... what they call failure to thrive. She's shutting down mentally and physically and they're going to put her on a feeding tube tomorrow if things don't improve."

Noah looked over his shoulder back into the room. "She'll be okay," he whispered. "They'll be okay." He turned and looked at his uncle. "You gotta tell me this stuff. Okay? I get why you didn't tell them, but... I deserve the truth."

"Rachel and Santana know that they're doing the day program. Your mother told Rachel this morning and she's going to tell Santana this afternoon. When Quinn feels better she will tell her too, because Quinn will go to a similar group." Bear paused for a moment. "And you're going too, Noah." The boy looked up. "Your mom can explain it better but there will be a group, and then a clinician and a mentor-"

"I had one in New York. I don't need one," he said with a mumble.

"Do you really believe that?" Bear asked. He took a deep breath. "You're going to see them, Noah."

"Fine," he muttered. "I don't need it though."

Bear shrugged. "Maybe, we'll see."

…..

Santana was silent. Shelby had been ready for yelling and screaming, but she hadn't braced herself or been prepared at all for the silence.

"Can we go?" Santana asked quietly.

Shelby soaked in Santana's features. She was wearing Shelby's sweatpants from Columbia that had been worn from time and use. Santana had "borrowed" them before but not in years. She was wearing her father's sweatshirt and Noah's "man-Uggs," as Rachel used to call them. She was swimming in everything. She looked more lost than ever.

Shelby gave her a soft smile. "San, let's find something that you're comfortable in and that fits you."

Santana remained quiet but nodded slightly. She followed her and sat silently on Shelby's bed as her mother looked through the closet.

"San, you didn't really say anything to what I told you before," Shelby said as she offered Santana a pair of sweatpants. "These ones are a little smaller," she smiled. "They are from my undergrad years. My butt was smaller then."

She gave Santana a wink. Santana just looked back at her quietly. Shelby grabbed a shirt and pulled if off of the shelf, silently suggesting that she wear it under her father's sweatshirt. Santana changed silently, without argument.

"San, talk to me," Shelby whispered.

Santana gave a tiny shrug. "What?"

"What's going on? I told you about the group you're going to do and the work that we're going to try to do with you and you haven't said anything."

Santana gave another shrug of her shoulder. "You think there's something wrong with me," she whispered. She looked up tearfully. "Don't you?"

"Santana," Shelby said with heartbreak. "That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?" she asked honestly.

Shelby sighed quietly and pulled Santana's hand into hers. "You mean the world to me, Santana, and I hate that you're struggling...It's not that there's something wrong with you, San. It's more like... I did you a disservice. I thought... I thought Elyse was helping and I think that she was in so many ways, but she really wasn't in a lot of others." Shelby paused for a moment. "Santana, in New York you should have gotten more care."

"I'm okay, Mom," she said turning to look at her. "I promise. I'm... I'm just …. I …"

"San," Shelby whispered putting her hand on hers. "You have been angry and you have been confused and you have been trying to tame all those feelings inside you for far too long." She looked at her daughter for a moment. "I didn't know about the boys that you had been with -"

"Mom, I thought we...we were okay with that. I …. I'm better. I don't do that anymore. I know that it's bad," she said rapidly. "I'm with Brittany now and...I'm okay."

Shelby searched the features of Santana's face. "San, you don't have to be okay. I'm not okay. I just... I want you to be able to feel what you feel without feeling like you have to bury it deep inside of you. What happened to you was so hard and horrible and I don't think we tell you how much -"

"How much it sucked?" Santana asked. "I'm all better, Mom. I am. Yes, I've been getting a little mad... but... I'm not like how I used to be..." She trailed off. "I'm fine now. They told me I was better and that I … was okay."

"In so many ways, San, you are," Shelby said brushing her hair out of her face.

"I didn't need trauma therapy anymore because... I was okay. Rachel needed it because she still had it... and she was still panicking. remember I hadn't done that in a long time."

"Santana, there are different ways that people have what you and Rachel have and... yours was a lot more subtle than hers was and I'm so sorry that I didn't see it... as clearly as I do now."

"See what?" Santana asked.

"See that you're scared and were panicking in the only ways you knew how to. You were being impulsive and angry." Shelby paused for a moment and looked deep in her eyes. "Santana, when you ripped the television off of the wall, what were you feeling?"

"Like it to stop," she whispered without hesitation.

"What to stop?" Shelby asked.

Santana shrugged. "I don't know. It's just... this feeling I get sometimes."

Shelby gave a nod. "Like when you say you're feeling full?"

Santana had coined that phrase long ago. She had originally stated that she felt so condensed with feelings and emotions she couldn't handle anymore; she was full. She had been eight years old when she had told Shelby that. It had been a few months before they had moved to Lima.

Santana nodded. "But it goes away... It's like I'm not me for a minute... and then... I wake up."

"Baby, it's not supposed to be this hard. Everything that you're feeling and you're processing is stuff that I should have done better to help you with. We would have-"

"What?" Santana asked. "Help me with what?"

"San, I should have listened to you better and... I'm sorry. This program will help you. You're not going anywhere. It'll be like going to an afterschool program... a club." Shelby assured her as she rubbed her back.

Santana scoffed and shook her head. "It won't be a club, Mom."

"It won't?" she asked.

"It will be a shit fest of emotions and teenage hormones," Santana replied.

Shelby laughed. "That's true, but we need to try this, San. I'll be with you every step of the way"

"I know," she whispered. "That's not what I'm so nervous about."

"What are you nervous about?" Shelby asked.

"The steps themselves," she mumbled.

Shelby took her hand and pulled her into a tighter hug. "Of all the women in the world, Santana, I know that you can take them."

Santana reached out and took her hand. "Thanks, Mumma," she whispered. She looked up at her after a moment. "I don't thank you enough."

Shelby gave a tiny smile back."Thanks," she whispered as she leaned in and kissed the top of her head.

Still after talking Shelby kept looking at Santana as she reliving the moments where she had gone wrong. The moments that she thought she could have been better. They entered the hospital and she could tell Santana was tensing. Shelby reached out and took her hand with a tiny smile. Santana accepted her mother's hand and followed her closely down the hallway that was becoming way too familiar.

"You know what?" Santana whispered. Shelby looked at her as they exited the elevator. "I hate all the animals everywhere. I think it's tacky."

Shelby smiled. "I couldn't agree with you more."

They rounded the corner and entered the room.

No one was there except Joey who was sitting there silently reading a magazine.

"What's...happening?" Santana asked trying to coax herself silently to remain calm.

"Dr. Pierce wants Rachel to get an CAT scan on her kidney before she discharges," Joey said quietly as she folded up her magazine. She gave a soft smile to San as she entered the room. The tenseness in Santana's body clearly showed her panic the was pounding to the surface.

"Where... where is Quinn?" she asked

Shelby exchanged a look with Joey with a deep breath, silently telling her that they needed to tell her.

"San, Quinn went for a simple procedure. Basically, they're giving her a portable IV," Shelby said calmly.

Santana looked around. Where were they? What did they mean procedure? "What... "

"San," Shelby said gently. "It's really minor. So minor that I know they would be fine without me here."

Santana shook her head. "You didn't tell me because you didn't think that I could handle it," she said with a heavy breath.

"Santana, I didn't want to worry you when you didn't need to. You're still the child and I'm the mother," Shelby said trying to approach her.

"No," Santana said pushing herself from her mother. "You need to be with them. They need you."

"They're okay, San. You need me too," Shelby said softly, trying not to see the storm that was coming.

Santana shook her head. "No. No. No. I need them here, Mom. I need... I need them here."

"I know that, San."

"No, you don't know," she yelled as she felt something inside of her reaching a new level. It was if she was on the edge and she had no other choice but to jump. She barely registered that people were talking around her or that Gretchen was being paged. All she saw was her mother. They had had a good morning and now they were alone... or it felt like they were alone. Santana never ached for that. She knew that her sisters needed her mother more. She was Santana Corcoran. She didn't need anyone and having her mother offer herself to her in this moment as they stood alone in a hospital room missing two beds, it all just hurt. It hurt too much.

"Santana."

"Santana," another voice called.

She needed it all to go away, she realized. She reached for the first things she could get her hands on. She broke it. She didn't even know what it was, but it was in pieces.

"Santana," she heard more sharply.

She felt arms wrap around her and she fought against them. She couldn't do this. She needed to get out of here. She had to find her.

"Santana," she heard a more familiar voice.

She blinked, looked up and her mother was staring at her. She had assumed her mother had been holding her. She looked over her shoulder and it was the woman her mother had been talking to. Her ears seemed to open all at once. The room was so full of noise and everyone was looking at her.

"Santana, just breathe. Don't focus on any of them. Listen to me," the woman said. She fought against her harder. "Santana, look at your mom. Just look at her." Santana tried to block out her voice. She really tried, she even squeezed her eyes shut, but then she opened her eyes and she couldn't look away from her mother. "Everyone is right here with you, Santana. It's okay to be mad but it's not okay to break things. Take a breath. You're okay."

Santana looked at her mother. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Santana, it's okay," Shelby said carefully.

"No, it's not okay," she said feeling emotion in her chest.

"You're right, San," Shelby said. Santana didn't notice the glance that she exchanged with the woman. "It's not. Gretchen is right you can't break things like this anymore, but I still love you more than you know. We need to get a handle on this."

"And we will," Gretchen said.

Santana looked back at her mother. "Okay..." She frowned and looked at the empty room. "I can't be without them," she whispered.

"You can, San," her mother told her.

Santana shook her head. "I can't." She felt a swell in her chest. "I …. I... I wouldn't survive it."

"Santana, they're not going anywhere," Gretchen told her.

"You don't know that!" she bit at her and managed to push her away and reach for her mother. "None of you know!" She looked at her hands. "I wouldn't survive it. ….. I wouldn't let myself."

"Santana," Shelby said with a sob. "We're not there, baby."

"But it might," Gretchen said not breaking her gaze from Santana's defeated frame. "That is scary, Santana."

"Damn straight," she barked. She deflated again and looked at her hands. "No one knows that like me... it changes everything." She looked up at her mother. "I won't live through that again. I promise you that."

"Santana," Shelby said shaking her head. "I need you here. I love you too much -"

"You can't love me enough to make it all go away if they're gone," she said quietly. "This isn't me being morbid, Mom... I … just I know..."

"Santana, that's not going to happen-" Shelby said.

"But it might!" Santana interrupted. "They're not here... and... things can happen... and ….I promise I would do it fast." Shelby shook her head and let out a sob. "I promise I would do it fast," she whispered.

Shelby just stared back at her with tears running down her face. "I … I … Santana... I love you so much... and this devastates me."

Santana stared back at her honestly. "But... it shouldn't surprise you."

She held her mother's gaze for a moment and then looked at Gretchen. "I'm ready to clean up," she said plainly.

….

Quinn frowned as she woke up. She took a breath and swallowed dryly before opening her eyes. She blinked the fuzz from her eyes. Nothing in this room looked familiar and there was no bed next to her anymore. She remembered. Rachel. She was here with Rachel. She looked to her left and then to the right. No one.

Where was Rachel?

Her heart rate picked up and the panic increased. She moaned at the ache in her body. She opened and closed her fists. Her skin was so clammy. A noise moved above her. She shifted her gaze and saw a nurse working above her. She spotted a nurse playing with her IV again. She looked down at her chest. There were two small tubes poking out of her chest and they were taped down. She frowned. When could she get that thing out? She wanted out.

She looked around for her mother but she only saw Nana sitting at the end of the bed reading a magazine. Before she went to sleep Nana was telling her they were just doing a minor procedure on her so she would have the IV moved from her arm but she could go home with the new one. It would stay there for awhile and wouldn't hurt as much. They were right. It didn't but she wanted to be anywhere but here.

She felt her eyes sting. She was so confused. Nothing was making any sense to her.

"Quinn," she heard far away. She turned her head to her grandmother and saw her call for the nurse and took Quinn's hand.

"I think your fever is finally breaking," Nana said gently as she brushed her hair out of her face.

Quinn looked around again. She was grateful for her grandmother but that wasn't who she needed.

The nurse looked at her with a gentle smile and pushed more medicine in the bag above her head. "I will tell Dr. Pierce know you are awake, honey," the nurse told her softly.

Dr. Pierce entered the room with a relieved look. "Quinn honey, we will get you out of here as soon as you are better, but right now we are going to keep you about an hour more down here and then we will move you back to your room with Rachel. Maybe later we can try and get you up to take a shower. You can't get the new catheter wet similar to when you had your cast but it will help us get medicine faster to your body. You and Rachel also need to hold down some food before we even think of discharging either of you. It's now up to the two of you on how quickly you get released. Plus I think your mom wants to speak with you about other things that are going on."

He was saying so much, but she couldn't focus on him. She turned back to her grandmother.

"Where's Mom?" she whispered as her voice cracked. "I need Mom, Nana, please."

"She'll be here soon Quinn. Just let the nurses come check and make sure everything is ok and we can move you back to the room, honey."

Quinn started to tear up. "Nana, please get mom. I want to go home. Please. Let me go home."

Nana looked down at Quinn and gently shook her head at the girl. "Quinn, you can't go home yet. You just had surgery. It was a minor one but it was still surgery. Your fever has not been gone for 24 hours yet. They are giving you more medicine through your new central port and that should get the medicine in faster, but honey, you are not going home until Dr. Pierce says it's okay. You also need to be able to keep down food and move around on your own a little before you go home."

"Please, I am sorry. I want to go home. I am fine now just a little tired,but I can sleep at home," Quinn said desperately as she gripped onto Nana's hand. "Please."

The door opened and Quinn looked up hopefully. It was a nurse and an intern. Her chest clenched under the stress. "I want my mom," she whispered.

The intern checked her vitals. "Your meds worked awfully fast, Quinn," she said with a soft smile. "I think you just needed that extra push. We can move you downstairs back to your sister's room."

Quinn's gaze snapped up. "Rachel?"

The intern nodded. "Yeah, Rachel."

"Hey there," Shelby said with a soft smile as she came into the room.

"Mom," Quinn said trying to sit up. "What happened? What's going on? Where's San? Where's Rachel?"

Her mother looked at her tearfully, knowing something that she didn't.

"Santana's just up stairs and Rachel is finishing her test. We're going to finish up and we'll all meet back in your room. Okay?"

She reached out and grabbed her mother's hand. "Please. Don't leave me."

Quinn didn't know where her high level of attachment was coming from, but she knew that she needed her mother. With every additional second she was awake, she remembered another detail of the courtroom. She remembered. "What happened? How long was I asleep? Is he gone? Is Rachel okay?"

Shelby gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. "Q-Bear, I need you to focus on resting. I'm just focusing on everyone right now too.-"

Quinn looked at her with a deep set frown. "Please. What happened?"

Shelby shook her head. "I don't know," she said honestly.

"Why?"

"Because my attention has been here, Quinn, with you and your sisters and brother," she said quietly moving her hair out of her face.

Quinn frowned for a moment and remembered the conversation that had happened earlier... it felt like forever ago. New therapist... new programs... a team.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier, Mom," she said with as much conviction as she could muster. "I don't need that."

"I really don't," she said weakly. "I'm fine. I … Um... I feel fine. San and Rachel might need it but I don't."

She could tell her own voice was still weak and she knew it was difficult to conceal that. She knew she didn't sound or feel like herself, but she was determined to leave her. She was determined to move on. She couldn't look back anymore. Not only did it hurt too much, but behind her were things that would hold her back. She couldn't focus on that anymore. She couldn't even consider them. Forgive and forget right? She looked up at her mother. She wasn't sure if she would accept that. It had been barely four months, maybe five? That was it. Wasn't that enough?

"We'll see, Quinn. Let's get you moved downstairs okay?" her mother said quietly.

Quinn looked at her mother for a moment and paused. She felt like she was waking up to a changed world. There was something different and she wasn't sure if she was ready to change with it. They had brought her downstairs and were able to sit up for the first time. It was a head rush, but she felt miles better. It had been an hour or so since she had woken up and the had placed a plate full of mush in front of her. She really wasn't in the mood. She stared at the food in front of her with a frown. She was waiting for too long and she was still only stuck with Nana. Suddenly Nana started toward the door.

"Where are they?" she asked. "Where are you going?"

"They're coming," a new voice said from the door.

Nana looked at Quinn. "This woman is going to talk to you for a bit, Quinn. I'll be right outside."

"Who are you?" Quinn frowned.

"Gretchen," the woman said as she sat down.

"What are you doing in my room?" she asked looking at the door.

"We're going to meet quickly," she said.

"Don't you see that I'm sick?" she bit.

"You certainly seem a lot better than you did earlier," she said.

Quinn frowned. "I am and I'm ready to home and you're the last person I want to talk to."

"I can understand that," Gretchen replied as she sighed and watched Quinn's features. "I want to try to talk to you about thing that have happened."

"Why? Can't it wait?" she asked.

"Not really," Gretchen replied. "I see you haven't touched your food."

"I'm ready for my sisters," she said. "Something happened and I'm needing answers."

"Well, did they tell you about about the feeding tube?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "They did, but they won't use it."

"How do you know?"

"They're bluffing," Quinn said folding her arms.

"Are they?"

"My sister's girlfriend's father is my doctor," she said.

"Doesn't that make his worry higher?" she asked.

"Well, I don't really need one," she replied.

"You're not eating," Gretchen pointed out. Quinn rolled her eyes. "I guarantee that you need to step up and take care of yourself first. I'm sure they'll give you a few more days since you just woke up."

"Did you just come in here to talk to me about nutrition?" she asked with a frown.

"No," Gretchen said as she eased back in her chair. "I wanted to talk to you about you."

"And say what?" she replied.

"There have been a lot of changes," Gretchen began.

"So," she asked. "I'm happier with them... obviously. I'm sure you had some light reading about me." She sneered her last few words.

"Quinn, feel free to continue being rude to me but I certainly won't be rude to you."

"I'm not being rude," she frowned. "I'm telling you how things are. Life sucks and you get over things."

"Is it that simple?" Gretchen asked.

"It has to be," Quinn replied looking over at the empty bay where Rachel's bed was. "She was the first person who welcomed me into the... the family. Santana and I hated each other..."

"I know that you're close," Gretchen nodded.

"...She's like … she's like all the good parts of me squeezed into one person... or all the good parts that I wished I had." She shook her head surprised by her own honesty. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't need to."

"Why not?"

"Because, what happened happened and I don't need to talk it out. I just need to move on. It was months ago."

"Sometimes it takes decades to process things," Gretchen said.

"I'm not one of those people," she said looking at the door again. "I don't need that. I just need to move on."

"Quinn, you are a strong girl. It doesn't take a doctor to know that," Gretchen began.

"Wow, I really hope we're paying you the big bucks," Quinn replied dryly.

Gretchen arched her brow. "I do too," she smiled. "Quinn, all that you've been through takes some processing. It's been a lot and it's all been difficult."

"I don't need you to get into my head to tell me that," she whispered.

"I don't want to talk about my father or my childhood or my mother or the trial," she said as she looked at her hands. "I don't."

"Okay," Gretchen said.

"I'm over it," she said simply.

"You're over it?" Gretchen asked.

"Yes," Quinn said simply. "I … I heard something on the radio and...it was before I moved in with the Corcorans. The DJ was making fun of that guy... you know Britney Spears's old boyfriend …."

"Why were they talking about him?" Gretchen asked.

"Because he was asking for money from Michael Jackson's estate... They told him that he should get over it because it happened so long ago." She looked up at Gretchen. "I'm getting over it. I'm moving on. I don't want to think about that stuff and talk about it until I turn blue. What good will it do?"

"It might give you some answers," Gretchen replied. "They shouldn't have said that on the radio."

"Why? People think that," she asked. She shrugged. "But... I mean … people use it because its sensitive. I don't even know if it's true. You know?" She shrugged. "My birth parents..." The phrase still sounded strange on her tongue. "They …. they kinda sucked. Why not just move on?"

"You were raised by them for sixteen years," she said.

Quinn nodded. "It wasn't that they were always bad people... It just... and it wasn't that I woke up and that they were suddenly different. It slow..."

"They were inconsistent," Gretchen said.

"My father bought me things... and my mother," Quinn shrugged. "I don't want to talk about this."

"Okay," she nodded gently.

"I don't want to talk to you at all," she said more fiercely. "Can you leave?"

Gretchen nodded. "In a few minutes. Quinn, we are going to talk regularly. We can end today, but I wanted to let you know that we'll be meeting on a regular basis."

"Go help someone else," Quinn said looking at the door, wishing she could run out.

"Well, for the time being I'm going to work with your family," she said.

"I want you to think about things that you want to talk about."

"I don't want to talk about anything," she said. "I just need to get some air."

"That's a good idea," Gretchen replied. "Perhaps for our first time together you and I can just go for a walk."

"I'm pretty trapped here," Quinn said with a frown.

"Well, you're going to get better and they''' most likely will keep you for a bit until you can get a little better. Santana's going to meet with me either today or tomorrow and Rachel is going to meet with me soon too. Noah too."

"I don't need to talk to you."

"Well, to really see if that's true you have to meet with me for a bit. That's just how it works." Gretchen stood up and pointed to the food. "You should eat something."

"Or what?" Quinn narrowed her eyes.

"I told you or what," Gretchen said.

"Well, I'm waiting for my family," Quinn said as Gretchen peaked into the hallway.

"They're on their way."

….

Noah followed close to Rachel's gurney. She hadn't spoken. She refused to look at him the whole time. The perky intern kept talking to her like she was going to look back at her. He felt her panic when they lifted her gown and did the ultrasound. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to yell and make her come out of it. He wanted to hold her but he knew that they couldn't. It was so much different than her being under the stairs... It was so much worse.

"She's sees you here, you know," the intern said. "And I know that she appreciates you."

"What do you know?" he asked with a frown.

"I know that she looks at you when you're not looking," he said.

He looked over at the man and then down at Rachel. "She's not dead, she's just... she's thinking …. she's soaking it all in... She...I'm not stupid I heard you're all sending her up to the loony bin... and... she doesn't need that."

"It's not the loony bin," the intern replied. "It's the psych wing. She might be an outpatient here for a bit because she's still not eating."

"... She's just...She... it's her body and …. we're trying," he replied.

"Well, she's not 100% better because she's not trying hard enough," the intern said simply.

"How can you say that?" he asked with a deep set frown.

"Because it's true," the intern shrugged. "You gotta want to be better. Mind over matter and that crap."

Noah looked at him with a frown. "Aren't you supposed to be a doctor?" He shook his head. "You don't know anything about us."

He nodded. "I am a doctor, but that doesn't mean I can't see what's in front of me." He shrugged. "Listen. I don't know you and you don't know me, but I see her watching you when you're not looking. She's in there. She's catatonic. She just needs someone to tell her it's okay to come out."

Noah looked at him. "It's not that simple. That's what we've been doing. She knows we're here. You said so herself."

"She's your sister, man," the intern said. Noah looked at him and then watched as Rachel was returned to their room on the pediatric wing. He frowned when he saw his mother but not Santana. He looked back at the intern with a sigh. "What I'm saying is you gotta try the basics. You have to stop tip toing around her and just... try."

"What do you know about it?" he asked with a frown.

"I have a sister who everyone treats as fragile and...they're so careful about how they are around her that they forget the simple things. She's in there. You just have to pull her out," he shrugged.

Noah looked over at Rachel and then back at the intern. He watched as mother talked to Tom and his grandmother and uncle.. There were so many people around. He narrowed his eyes and watched Rachel's tense body relax ever so slightly as she caught sight of Quinn in the room. He gave a slight smile and looked over at the intern who smirked as he started backing away. He arched his brow.

"I told you so," he said before he turned forward and walked away. Noah watched as

Noah shook He looked up as the elevator open and saw his sister sitting there in a wheelchair with a deep set frown on her face. He frowned and walked briskly to her.

"What's going on?"

Santana rolled her eyes weakly. "They're not committing me," she said dryly. she spun her pointer finger in the air. "Yay, me."

Noah knelt in front of the wheelchair. "Can we have a sec?" he asked his aunt.

Joey narrowed her eyes. "A minute," she said. "Don't leave this spot."

Noah rolled his eyes and turned to Santana after Joey stepped away.

"What?" Santana asked with a shaky breath.

Noah took her hand. "What happened?"

"I freaked out," she mumbled as she pulled slightly at the ends of her fingers. "I messed up again."

"Naw, he grinned. "You're just letting off some steam."

"It's not funny, Noah," she whispered.

He sighed and looked at her. "You're not crazy. You're just so pissed and angry that you can't see what's in front of you."

She gave a nod. "Yeah... They think that this new doctor can help me...I'm feel like I'm in pieces," she whispered.

"Maybe you are, but you're not crazy. Okay? Just because you need help doesn't mean something is wrong with you."

"That doesn't make any sense," she whispered with a slight grin.

He squeezed her hand. "San, I promise you you're not alone in this."

"When you... when you pushed that boy through the window... and then went away …. did it fix it?"

"What? Fix what?"

"You," she asked honestly.

He shrugged. "I'm still me. I still feel angry all the time, but … I'm a little put back together..." He sighed for a moment and looked up at her. "When I went away, I … I talked a lot... Not at first... but … eventually...about what happened. It kinda helped."

"You don't talk about it here," she said quietly.

"Because it's too hard here... it was easier with people I didn't know, he remembered. I didn't have to feel about how they would feel when I told them." He looked at her. "We don't talk about Dad because sometimes you get too sad and you're already sad enough." Her head snapped up and she stared at him in surprise. "I know you are, San. Don't lie." He shrugged. "Maybe this will help."

She chewed her lip. "Yeah, maybe." She looked at her hands and he watched as her mouth twitched as he tried to keep her tears in. "I'm scared," she whispered. She looked up at him as the tears began to fall. "What if it all falls apart all over again?"

"You won't," he said simply.

"How do you know?"

"I won't let you," he whispered. "I'll be with you every step of the way, San. You forget that you're not alone all the time. I'm promise that I'll remind you of that everyday."

She rolled her eyes with a weak smile. "Thanks," she whispered.

"Anytime," he smiled.

…..

Shelby sighed and rubbed her temple and took a deep breath. She soaked in the words that Gretchen and Tom were telling her. She was able to see that Rachel was curled away from Quinn despite the blonde's gentle words and Santana was down the hallway talking quietly to Noah.

"So she didn't meet level of care?" Shelby asked after soaking in their words.

Gretchen shook her head. "What does that mean?" Helen asked.

"It means that she doesn't need to be admitted to psych," Joey replied.

Shelby looked over her shoulder and watched Noah talk gently to Santana. "I'm worried about her," she said.

"We know," Bear said rubbing Shelby's shoulder. "We all are. We're worried about everyone."

"I think that it might be beneficial to try to talk to them today," Gretchen said. " I talked with Doctor Pierce about how he and his teams have been trying to get Rachel to eat and that a feeding tube is the next step."

"It is. They're thinking the same for Quinn," Shelby said darting her eyes between everyone else. "... They have to put it in their nose and they're going do it while they're awake."

"I think we need to try to talk to them about it again," Gretchen said. She looked at Tom as he approached the group. "I think that it'll be more traumatising to force a tube down their throat."

"They have no nutrients in their bodies," he said with concern. "The IVs can only offer so much. We've been offering Rachel foods for days."

"And we have been also trying to get her to eat too," Helen interjected.

"But she hasn't. The medicine that has been working isn't. Her fever has gone up to 101 again. It's still mild considering her health and that it was so high before, but..." He looked at Gretchen.

"I was looking at their past diagnosis," Gretchen began.

"Rachel has Adjustment disorder and PTSD. It was ruled out for my two older kids," Shelby rattled off as she folded her arms. Shelby narrowed her eyes and looked at Gretchen. "Know that an idiot clinician in New York also tried to diagnose Santana with ICD. That's not accurate. You and I both know that clinically that's incorrect."

"Shelby, I am not diagnosing her with anything. Your kids have been judged enough I just want to meet with them."

"Wait, what's ICD?" Joey asked.

"Impulse Control Disorder," Shelby said tightening her arms. "Quinn hasn't been diagnosed with anything yet. Clinically there was a lot of work still to do. There was so much that we were trying to stabilize for her."

"There was a lot of change and new trauma going on," Gretchen said.

Shelby frowned. "What are you saying?"

"Being raped by your father and becoming pregnant, being removed from your home, your birth mother dying suddenly in car crash, moving into a new family, being adopted by the family plus the trauma with Will and the responsibility that she feels for that," Gretchen said calmly. "And now this. Feeding tubes are a bad idea."

"I know that," Shelby said pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I talked Quinn,," Gretchen said. "I think that we can talk to her more about eating and she can respond. It's about control."

"You don't think I know that?" Shelby asked with frustration.

"I'm sorry," said with a shake of her head. "I need to help them I need to figure out how to do this the best way."

Gretchen nodded and spotted Noah and Santana looking at her with her heightened voice. "Can I talk to you alone in here?"

Shelby nodded and walked into the conference room. "Yeah?"

"You need to pull it together," Gretchen said quietly.

"I know," Shelby said with a frown. "I just..." She paused and looked towards the hallway. "I can't make another mistake."

"You will, Shelby, because you're human," she said.

"But I can't... we're all falling apart and it hurts too much and I can't make another mistake. We're all barely holding it together."

"You're doing the best you can, Shelby," Gretchen said.

"Well, my best isn't good enough," Shelby said.

"It's going to have to be," she said simply. "We are all here to support you but no one expects you to be perfect."

"Everyone is holding it together and fairly well," Gretchen said.

"Sort of," she whispered. "What do I do?"

"You trust yourself again," Gretchen said.

"I don't want to push them too far or make things worse."

"They won't." She sighed. "I'm going to talk with Noah for a few minutes and then I'll talk with Santana. Spend some time with Rachel... I've noticed you've spent less time with her since you've been here."

"That's not true!"

"She has had most of my attention for years and because of that I've..." Shelby trailed off and looked at the ground.

"What we talk about in here, stays in here, Shelby," Gretchen said quietly.

"I'm not going to blame my children," she whispered.

"I'm not saying you are," Gretchen said.

"I don't know how to help her or make her feel safe. This trial has brought us all to our knees," she said quietly. "I don't know where to go from here."

"Forward, Shelby," Gretchen said. "Rachel, Santana, Quinn and Noah have held it together for so long because of you. No one else. Trust yourself and your instincts."

Shelby gave a smile and a shake of her head. "That easy huh?" He licked her lips. "Has anyone told you why it's such a big deal that we lost George? Or what their father meant to Santana? The burdens that Quinn and Noah are experiencing?"

"They're four very different kids and we'll treat them as them. They are all very reliant on each other and we need to remind them that they can stand on their own. We can do this. But we can't until you trust yourself and you trust me."

Shelby sighed and looked at her with a new understanding. "Okay."

However, Shelby confidence shifted again once Tom told her about Rachel. Shelby stared back at Tom blankly. She wasn't sure how to process all that he was saying. She could feel her mother next to her with high concerns. The procedure had gone well with Quinn. She knew it would but she felt relieved nonetheless. However, she couldn't soak in the words about Rachel.

"You said that she was better. The fever broke and she is better," Shelby said. "We just need to get her evaluated upstairs and they did that-"

"They didn't," Tom said.

"What?" Shelby asked as she looked at her mother. "I thought that they were going to try to do that while I was gone too... take some … pressure off of it. Gretchen and I thought that some of the anxiety was surrounding the build up about things..."

"Well, I don't know if that's true for all situations, but for Rachel, anytime anyone approaches her that's not someone in the family, her heart rate skyrockets," Tom explained.

Shelby looked at her mother. "... That's... yeah... she just...Yes, she's like that, but her heart rate goes up when we try to be near her too."

Tom nodded. "Your son had been in there with her, but she's been unresponsive. Shelby, I think she might need that contact. She honestly needs some contact I think. If I remember the last time she was in the hospital, she responded well to being held."

"Well, it isn't last time," Shelby snapped. She bowed her head and pinched the brow of her nose. "I'm sorry. It's just I can't touch her if she doesn't want to be touched. All my kids know this. It has to do with her trauma history."

"I understand that, Shelby," Tom said, "but I think you should consider it."

"I can't push her more," Shelby said. "I want to hold her but I can't hold her and make this go away. She was responding some before, but not anymore..."

"Shelby, just try," Helen said.

"I'm not messing things up more than I already have," she replied with a frustration.

"Shelby, I don't know Rachel," Gretchen began. "But from what I read she responds to you. She responds to your touch. I'm going to meet with Santana and Quinn is going to go get one last test and Noah's going to go with her. Stay with Rachel and try."

"Sometimes, all anyone needs is that human contact."

"She loves to be held," Helen interjected.

"But I don't want to push her," Shelby said.

Shelby watched the other kids leave the room. It was just her and Rachel. She gave a small sigh and slowly approached the bed

"Rachel?" she called out.

She didn't move.

"I'm really happy that you're feeling a little better," Shelby said with a soft smile as she sat down next to her.

"You know what we were thinking, Rachel?" the intern began. "We were thinking that you can use some time with your mom. I'm going to unhook this stuff okay?"

No response.

The intern removed the IV bag and the heart monitor on her finger. Rachel continued to lay there silently looking at blankly ahead.

"Can I hold you, Rach? I can do it just for a little while and then myself and your nana are going to give you a quick bath in the bathroom okay? You and Quinn are getting a little stinky," she said hoping to coax a smile. She frowned. Nothing. The heart monitor wasn't hooked up anymore so she would never knew if Rachel's heart was beating fast. Trust your instincts, she heard in her head. She reached out and picked Rachel up gently. Her body was limp but there was a moment, it was weak, but it was there where Rachel fell into the hug and let her head rest on Shelby's shoulder. She was still in there. Shelby rubbed her back gently and gave a tearful smile. She was still there.

.…

Santana sat in the room. She knew it wasn't this woman's office and she wasn't sure what she was in here,but she was here. All she knew was that the person on the psych floor said that she needed to talk to someone sooner rather than later.

Santana looked at her with a frown a she set up a box and ceramic plates, mugs and bowls .

"What are those for? I'm not hungry. I don't see any food."

Gretchen continued to set the set up. It was a five piece set. Each piece was a different color but they were generally all matching. She set a pitcher of water next to the items and looked at Santana expectantly.

"I don't get it," Santana said with a frown.

"It's an activity. Please Pour some water in each of the items," Gretchen stated.

"Why?"

"I want to show you something," she said.

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Santana, you need to keep your attitude in check. I will respect you but I expect you to respect for me," Gretchen said calmly. "I'm not going anywhere despite your attitude. You and I can either sit here and have a conversation, respectfully or you can take some time for yourself. You strike me as a person who's no nonsense. You don't have to like me, but give me a chance. Okay?"

Santana gave a nod and rolled her eyes slightly. "I just...I'm crazy. She … just am dealing with some stuff right now and I … I get angry but I …. I hurt other people but... I never hurt Rachel and... it's not..." She frowned and shook her head. "I'm not crazy..."

"I never said you are," Gretchen said as she sat down.

"... I remember what it was like living in the shelter... I wasn't stupid... we heard people talking and looking at the kids that were angry... I tried to keep it together."

"Okay," Gretchen said sitting down. "And honestly, Santana, you've done an incredible job-"

"Stop," she said with a frown. "Everyone has always said that about me... and I just..."

"You survived the best that you could, Santana," Gretchen said softly. "But I think you've been floating around in your life boat for a long time. It's time to come back to land, Santana."

Santana scoffed. "My sister speaks in metaphors all the time." She stood up and looked at the items. "So pour water into these plates? and cups? and mugs? Is this a life lesson?"

Gretchen shrugged. "Probably, but mainly it's to have a discussion... a debate even."

Santana rolled her eyes and looked at the items. "Great."

She poured the water in the items. "Kay... now what?"

"Does it hold the water?"

Santana looked back and there was an increasing puddle underneath the items. She huffed and grabbed her sweatshirt before Gretchen could intercept her and tell her she already brought a towel. And Santana cleaned up the mess with her sweatshirt. and turned back to Gretchen who was looking at her with an arch of her brow.

"I have more, Santana said. "It's not big deal. It's just water."

Gretchen nodded, but remained silent.

"So the point of this is things leak when you least expect it?"

"It could be is that what you think?"

"I think whoever glued these things back together did a terrible job at it," Santana said as she examined the now damp pieces.

Santana put the pieces down thoughtfully. "Are you saying that things that are broken can't be fixed?" Her voice rang with a bit of hurt.

"No," Gretchen said.

"I'm saying that sometimes, part of it is that I think that it's time to get new plates no matter how much you love the old ones," she said.

"Well, your metaphor sucks, because I can't go exchange my siblings or my life at the nearest Stop N Shop."

"But in so many ways life is about new beginnings and new approaches-" Gretchen began.

"Well, life also has a way of keep throwing shit in your face," Santana said loudly.

"That's true," Gretchen shrugged. "Language by the way. We're definitely going to reinstill the swear jar." She paused. "Do you know why we do that?"

"Because it's rude to swear?" she asked with her eyes staring at the ceiling.

"Because if you swear at your knuckle head boss, you're fired," Gretchen replied. "We're trying to teach you that it's not okay, Santana."

"I wouldn't do that in a job."

"You might if they get in your face or on your nerves. It's your go to, Santana."

"People get angry. I have the right to be angry," she argued.

"You do, but property damage might get charges and fines filed against you if you continue this behavior."

"You don't know anything about me. You think you're going to give me a new plate and I'll be fine?!"

"I think you're holding together with tape and glue and you think that you're functioning perfectly. You're not. Things can be okay. You can take down your guard."

"Things are not okay! I let down my guard and bad things happen! Rachel was molested while I was at practice! My mom left and my dad died! I was there when he died! My stepfather then kidnapped us and raped my sister to the point where she was in the hospital for weeks and beat the shit out of my brother!" Santana breathed heavily.

"I know," Gretchen replied.

"You know because you read my file," she sneered.

"That's true," she replied. "But I also know that you never talk about you. You managed to reveal what happened to you in … two sessions in New York but nothing more. Do you remember what prompted that?"

"They told me they needed to know if anything happened to me... because... it would help to... to put him away..." she whispered. She looked up at her. "I don't see why I need to talk about what happened to me... because...I can't... I can't get that back."

"It's because it'll help you not feel like you're being held together by tape and glue, Santana." Gretchen sat down next to her. "I think that we can work together not to help make you feel whole and healed, but work together to learn to live with this."

"I have been," she whispered. "

"Well, it shouldn't be this hard and you shouldn't be this angry."

"Well, I am."

"We'll work on it," she said as she took a deep breath. "When we have our sessions, Santana, I want to focus on you. Not Rachel or Quinn or Noah or your mother. I want you to answer how you feel. Not how they feel or how you see them"

Santana looked at her with a frown. "What am I supposed to talk about?"

"This time is about you, Santana," she said carefully. "You are going to college before you know it and I hope so terrible that you'll be held together with a little less tape and glue. We have to work together. We are going to talk about a lot of things, Santana... Including what you remember before the trauma in New York to the trauma in New York to present day-"

"I have talked about trauma so much that it doesn't even mean anything," she said with a glare at the floor. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"I believe that you don't want to talk about it anymore, Santana, but I also believe that you've given them the least information as possible. You only told the story of your stepfather to your therapist in New York .. the full story...and then you halfway told Elyse recently...the rest the only time you've dodged it."

"Most kids have to tell their narratives all the time... I just...I don't want to... "

"Most kids don't want to either... "

"Just because I've told my story once, doesn't mean that I'm eager and ready to tell it again," Santana frowned.

"It's not how comfortable you are in telling your story that determines how healed and whole you are, Santana. It's so much more than that. We are going to go slow and work through all of this. This is all for you and I want you to realize how important you really are."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"Do you understand why this is important for you?"

"Because you don't want me to throw a television at anyone?" she said. "I was sorry, by the way. I told them that too. I offered to help them clean up."

"But the blood and the debris was distracting them," Gretchen offered. "You need to be safe first, Santana."

"But I needed to help," Santana said urgently. "I ruined it..."

"You ruined the television, Santana, but you can't help if you're still bleeding."

Santana looked at her with a frown. " I feel as if that was another metaphor." She looked down at her hands. "I'm in here because they think that I'm crazy. Right?"

"You're not crazy... or any crazier than anyone else," Gretchen said.

"I think that's a flat out lie."

"I think that you have been faced with a lot Santana and you are holding up the best you can, but I need to now really take the time and work out some of that stuff. And only you can really take that step, Santana."

"Do you know how I can make my sister talk again?" she asked quietly.

"I don't. That's up to her too." Gretchen paused. "I think Rachel just needs to be reminded that it's okay to come out."

Santana nodded.

Gretchen went on. "And so do you, Santana."

Her head snapped up. "I'm not ready to talk about that," she said sharply.

"I meant as a whole, Santana," Gretchen said carefully. "I meant that you don't need to be so tough all the time. People are here to support you."

"I know..." she whispered. "Are we done?"

"We can be but we're meeting later this week too."

"Whatever," she whispered as she started to walk out of the room. She paused for a moment. "Thanks," she said barely audible.

Gretchen nodded at her and Santana walked out of the room and back into the room. She put her hands in the pockets of her mother's sweatpants. She was grateful that they didn't put her in a damn gown. She entered the room and saw Rachel rocking gently with Bear in the rocking chair. She could see that Rachel's hair was damp, like it was freshly washed. Her mother was guiding Quinn with her grandmother into the bathroom.

"Hey, stinky," Santana grinned at Quinn. "Nice to see you up."

"Shut it, Satan. I've had the plague for forever, what's your excuse?" Quinn smirked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Santana said with a smile. She sighed and watched her uncle receive a phone call. She fumbled around in the pockets and paused. She pulled out the item in them.

She felt tears sting her eyes. The beads.

She felt her breath pick up. She didn't remember putting them in there.

"I have to go for a bit," he said to Joey who nodded. "I'll be back," he whispered as he laid Rachel back down on the bed.

Santana picked up a chair and brought it to the edge of Rachel's bed.

"Hi," she whispered.

Rachel didn't say anything. She didn't even look at her.

"Are you feeling better?"

Nothing.

She looked down at Rachel's hand that was next to her still. She wanted to pick her up and hold her too but she knew that she needed to be patient... She didn't know if she would be able to handle making Rachel cry because of her touch. Even though her uncle and her mother had held her. She just wasn't sure what her touch could offer.

"I brought you something," Santana muttered.

She carefully pulled the beads out from her pocket. they were still on the multicolored string that she had originally put them on years ago.

Rachel still didn't move. She didn't make a sound.

Santana reached out and placed the beads unceremoniously but tenderly in Rachel's open, limp hand. She quickly stood up. She couldn't bear watching them fall to the floor forgotten nor could she tolerate seeing them lay neglected in Rachel's unresponsive hand. She was going to do her deed and leave them. She wasn't …. she couldn't do anymore...

"Can I go for a walk?" Santana asked her aunt.

"I'll go with you. I need to stretch my legs," Joey said standing up. "Shel, we'll be back."

"Joy," Santana said as she walked out of the room followed by her aunt.

Shelby peaked her head out of the bathroom and looked over at the empty room besides her baby bug that continue to lay silently in her bed. She gave her daughter a soft smile as an intern entered the room. She didn't expect Rachel to do anything back, but she paused when she heard a soft clicking sound. It was less of a clicking and more of a shifting of something small and plastic. She looked back over at Rachel and paused. Her little hand was moving.

Rachel was palming and feeling the beads in her hand. Nothing else in her body was moving but her finger were running over the beds with care in silence. They were the same beads that Shelby had put in the pants pocket earlier that day in hopes of reminding Santana of the magic that the young girl had convinced everyone that they possess. Magic, she thought quietly to herself. They certainly were something and it was all because of Santana. She had to help her see that.

….

He sighed and looked at the woman with a frown. "So it's my turn?" he said with his arms folded.

"It is," Gretchen said.

"I will talk to you about whatever you want me to," he said.

"Well, this session is for you so I would like you to talk about what you want to talk about," Gretchen countered.

"... I'm fine," he said.

"Are you?"

"I think so," he said. "I'm just... trying to be supportive."

"I think you certainly are," she said.

"There has to be more that I can do," he said. "Can you tell me what more that I can do?"

"I think you're doing enough, Noah," Gretchen said. "You've been so involved. I even saw that you grandfather dropped of you guitar-"

"He's been at the trial. He won't say much about it since he snapped at my sister," he mumbled. "I don't think it's going well..."

"Noah, I wanted to know how you were feeling about all of this," she said.

"Helpless," he said. "But I always feel like that so it's no big deal."

"It is a big deal, Noah." She assured him with a kind smile. "I know that everyone is proud of you."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Do you sing?"

"What?" he asked caught off guard.

"You brought the guitar. Do you sing?"

"No...not really..." he mumbled. "I … just mess around with it..."

"Music was a big deal in your family," she said.

He shook his head. "Whatever. It was... it was...is .. important to Rachel... She's the only one I really play things for..." He thought for a moment. "There's a song my dad used to sing that we sing to her to make her feel better...It's a Beatles song..." He shrugged.

"Do you sing anything else?"

"Not really."

"Why don't I think that's true?" she said with a grin.

He shrugged bashfully. "I don't do it for anyone except if I'm related to them. Normally it's just Rachel." He paused. "I thought it would make her feel better."

"Does it make you feel better?"

He nodded.

"Can you tell me how?"

He frowned for a moment trying to find his words. "It makes it …. it hurt less... like he's still here... but it's me too... it's like I'm doing something."

"I think that you are," she said. "You're not helpless, Noah."

He frowned and looked at the floor. "I am …. I'm always on the outside."

"Outside of what?"

"All of it," he mumbled. "I wasn't in the room. He went after them and he never went after me."

"Hiram?"

Noah nodded. "I could never protect them. I could never do anything..." He looked t his hands. "I knew about Santana sleeping with those boys and I tried to stop it... but... I couldn't..." He sighed. "So I went to every party... but that didn't help... She never wanted to be saved."

"Is it about saving?"

"I don't know anymore..." he shrugged. "You read our file right? I don't have to tell you what happened? Please."

"You only have to tell me what you want, Noah."

"I ….. Sometimes it feels like I'm still there... it's not as bad anymore but sometimes it feel like it...Talking about it helps me... but it's so hard for them...I should have gotten out earlier. I don't care what you say, but I should have escaped earlier."

"But you didn't, Noah," she said.

"Why didn't I?" he asked.

"Maybe you were too scared to leave them... I don't know, Noah, but the point is that you did. and honestly, Noah, they never would have survived that night if you hadn't escaped that night," she said softly.

His gaze snapped up and he looked at her in surprise. "What?"

"I believe that. I believe because you were able to get medical help that that was the reason that they survived."

He looked away from her. "I …. I never thought about that."

"Thought about what?"

"That the would have died that night..." He chewed his lip. "At that point," he whispered. "I think that dying would have been too easy. We had no other choice but to survive."

"And you have," she said. "You sprinted all the way to the station."

He nodded. "Yeah..."

"They'll still be there if leave, Noah. It's okay to move on."

He shook his head. "Not yet." He stood up. "Can I go?"

She looked at him for a moment. "Do you have somewhere to be?"

"I want to talk to Rachel," he said realizing something... a memory.

"About what?"

"I have a song she hasn't heard."

She gave a nod. "I'll see you soon though."

He stood up and looked at her. "Kay."

He walked back into the room and saw that Rachel was lying silently as always. One of her hands was holding on tightly to something and the other was buried under her pillow. He gave a knock on the slightly ajar bathroom door.

"Ma?"

"Don't come in!" Quinn shouted.

"I won't,"Noah said putting his hand over his eyes anyway despite the door blocking his view. "Where are San and Aunt Joey?"

"They went for a walk," Shelby said.

"Can I... can I close the door?" he asked with his hand still over his eyes.

"Why?" Shelby asked.

He paused feeling the redness in his cheeks. "I have my guitar..."

Shelby peaked around the corner. "Sure, bud," she said quietly knowing that her son.

She closed the door and Noah went back toward Rachel Noah looked over his shoulder at the door once more, making sure it was closed. He turned back to Rachel.

"I brought my guitar," he smiled. "...I have a secret to tell you... A story..." He gave her a soft smile as he leaned forward toward her. "I know you can keep secrets, Rach." His smile faded slightly but he forced himself to shake his head of the memories of recent days as he pulled his guitar case closer. He pulled it out carefully and pulled the strap over his shoulders. He strummed a few chords quietly.

"When I was really little," he began as he moved his fingers over the strings. "You weren't born yet, but when Mom and Dad weren't fighting, they would dance... real slow in the kitchen. She would smile and he would whisper this song in her ear... slowly though... like this...I'll show you. .They didn't make a mix of it until recently... Or at least I didn't find it slow like he used to sing it until recently..." He looked down at his fingers making sure they were in the right place. "I …. I sometimes practiced the cords... It was hard to figure them out until I heard the slower version. It's not the same as the fast version... You'll see..." He gave a sheepish grin and began to sing quietly.

"When I wake up, well I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you. And when I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you," he began. His voice was gentle and slow. It wasn't the fast paced version that had been popular at one time. Instead his voice was so soft that the song left his mouth like lullaby. "And when I come home, yeah I know I'm gonna be. I'm gonna be the man who's coming home to you. And when I'm dreamin', well I know I'm gonna dream. I'm gonna dream about the time when I'm with you."

He looked into face as her eyes remained open but her stare continued to be empty. He didn't see the bathroom door open slightly and his mother, grandmother, and sister peak out. He straightened and closed his eyes trying to ignite a new strength in himself as he continued to the chorus.

"But I would walk 500 miles, And I would walk 500 more," he sang with a crack in his voice. He wasn't just singing a song he was making a promise. He was declaring something that he always knew that he would be able to give her. He failed to notice Santana and Joey return to the outside of the room or the hospital staff that was gathering outside. It was just him and Rachel. He was making a promise, a vow, to her and no one else mattered. "Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles, To fall down at your door."

He looked at her silently as his fingers grazed the strings. He didn't care that the tears that were dripping down his face were falling on his guitar strings. "When I'm workin', yeah I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who's workin' hard for you. And when the money comes in for the work I do. I'll pass along every cent of it to you. And when I'm lonely, well I know I'm gonna be. I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you."

He refused to break his eyes from Rachel's lost ones as he continued with a shaky voice. It was so much more than a song. "And if I grow old, well I know I'm gonna be. I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you." He straightened and opened his voice with new breath. "But I would walk 500 miles, And I would walk 500 more, Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles, To fall down at your door. But I would walk 500 miles, And I would walk 500 more, Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles, To fall down at your door." He played the tiny interlude that had taken him too long to perfect. He paused for a moment and cleared his throat as he trembled and sang the last portion. "When I wake up, well I hope I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who's waking up to you. And when I'm dreamin', well I know I'm gonna dream. I'm gonna dream about the time I had with you."

He let out another trembling breath as he rested his guitar on his thigh. He didn't notice his aunt and uncle standing outside of the room with concern and heartache. His aunt had her hand over her heart. His focus was just Rachel.

"He … he used to sing it to her a lot," he said as he leaned closer to Rachel. "Bug, I know that you're in there. I know that you can hear me. I need you to come back here." He tilted his head and reached his hand out and rested it on the side of Rachel's bed. "I'm be waiting right here. Okay? I'll never leave you and I promise that things will get better than this."

Rachel continued to have her gaze tilted down. She didn't react. She didn't move. He had failed. He sat back in his seat with a frown and dejectedly started to pull his hand way.

But he stopped.

He looked down at his hand and Rachel's hand was wrapped around his fingers.

His gaze snapped up to her eyes and for the first time she was looking back at him. He moved his chair closer and looked at her with a tearful smile. "I won't leave. I promise," he vowed.

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think. The song I used was the cover "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by Sleeping at Last. Thank you again for reading! Please let me know what you think.