Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All characters are owned by RIB/Glee.
A/N: Thanks for all the follows/favorites/reviews. I know there was a little bit of delay on this chapter but the next one should come quicker. Thanks again to my friend/beta, 216BLT for keeping me motivated and helping me organize my thoughts.
TW: Allusions of domestic violence, discussions of death, suicide and child abuse
Emma Pillsbury groaned in frustration when the trill of her phone interrupted her mental count of how many times she had run her brush through her hair. Every step of her nightly routine was precise and measured and any interruption forced her to start over. It was after ten on a Friday night and she was already an hour behind on her nightly routine. Everything about her life was scheduled in the most meticulous fashion. She was in bed every weeknight by nine, her phone silenced to ensure that she was able to get the required eight hours of sleep. But it was Friday and she and Will had gone out to dinner and a movie and hadn't returned home until after nine. She glanced at her phone as it rang on the counter, the number was unfamiliar and probably a telemarketer or a scammer. She reached over, pressing the button on the side to silence the ringing.
She had only counted ten passes of the brush through her hair when the phone began to ring again. Her heart sank as she saw the same number flashing across the screen. It was late and telemarketers or scammers weren't this persistent. No phone call this late could be a good sign.
"Emma, are you going to answer that?" Will called from the other side of the bathroom door.
"Mm-hmm," Emma hummed, unsure if it had even been loud enough will to hear. She tried to ignore the way her palms suddenly felt sweaty and clammy and the way her heart had started to race in her chest as she answered the call, her voice soft and quivery as she breathed out, "Hello?"
"May I speak with Emma Pillsbury?" An unfamiliar female voice questioned from the other end of the phone. Emma froze at the unfamiliar voice on the other line, her mouth suddenly dry as she tried unsuccessfully to place the woman's voice. She leaned back against the bathroom counter as she adjusted the phone in her grasp, listening for any background noise or clue that would give away anything about the stranger on the other end of the line.
"This is she, may I ask who is calling?"
"Anna Jackson. I'm an investigator with the Office of Families and Children," Emma's brow furrowed in confusion. Why would an investigator with OFC be calling her at home on a Friday night? Her mind raced as she thought of all the students that filtered through her office each week, wondering if one of them could be in trouble and that's why she was getting this call. Her momentary distraction nearly caused her to miss the woman's next words entirely, "...Lima Memorial Hospital with your nieces and nephews."
Emma gasped softly as her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach, her grip on her phone tightening as the plastic creaked under the pressure. Shelby's kids were at the hospital. Her head spun as her mind raced with a million different possibilities of why the kids would be at the hospital, and with OFC. Shelby and Hiram were always too careful, too calculated to attract unwanted attention and all she could see in her mind was injured, terrified children, and horrific injuries. She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of her name being called softly through the speaker.
"What about Shelby? Where's their mom?"
Anna cleared her throat, "We-we can discuss that when you get here," Emma groaned in frustration. She didn't understand why this woman wouldn't just tell her where her sister was, "I know it's frustrating but it really is something that we should speak about when you get here."
"Of course. Are they-" Emma started but cut herself off because asking if they were okay seemed so silly and so trite. They were at the hospital, okay people didn't go to the hospital.
"They're safe. They're being taken care of."
"Can I..can I talk to them?"
Emma listened to the rustle on the other end of the phone, the soft murmur of voices as Anna asked who wanted to speak to Shelby. She could tell from the cadence and pitch of the voices that they were all female and pinpointed that it must be Quinn and Santana who were with the investigator.
"Emma?" A soft voice questioned from the other end of the phone and she recognized immediately that it was Santana. Santana's voice was softer than she was used to, lacking the brashness and bravado she used to command the halls of McKinley. Emma felt tears of relief flood her eyes at the sound of her niece's voice, "You're coming right?"
Emma nodded, forgetting for a second that her assurance couldn't be seen, "Yes, Santana. I'll be there soon. But Santana, are you…are you okay?"
"No," Santana stated flatly. Her one word confirmation was enough to cause Emma's heart to palpitate as her chest constricted painfully, "I don't wanna talk about it now. Just come okay?"
Emma didn't even have time to formulate a response as she heard the dial tone ringing in her ear before going silent, signifying that Santana had hung up the phone. Emma's hand dropped to her side, her phone still clutched tightly in her grasp as her head spun and her heart beat wildly. She knew she needed to move. She needed to get to the hospital. But she wasn't ready. She had hardly been in the same room with her nieces and nephews in the last seven years despite seeing the older three children in the hallways at McKinley on a daily basis. They didn't speak to her and she hadn't spoken with them either. She didn't even know Blaine and Rachel. They had been so small the last time she saw them and she was sure they wouldn't remember her. She didn't understand why Santana would've had them call her.
"Emma? Who was on the phone?"
Emma startled slightly at the sound of Will's voice, surprised to see him standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She must've forgotten to lock the door. His voice spurred her to move as she brushed past him without answering his question. She began to pull clothes out of her drawers frantically, shimmying her discarded jeans up her legs, "I've gotta go."
"Go? Go where?"
Will's eyes followed Emma's frantic movements around their bedroom. He saw the tears shining in her eyes and the way her hands shook as she fumbled with the nightgown she wore. Will followed her lead as he traded his pajama pants for his own jeans, his brow furrowed in confusion as he pulled a tee shirt over his head.
"The hospital. We have to go to the hospital."
"The hospital? Is someone hurt? Sick?"
"I don't…I don't know, Will. But I've..we've gotta go. They need me," Emma explained.
"They who? What's going on?" Will tried again but Emma continued to ignore him.
She didn't have time to explain everything to Will right now. She couldn't stop hearing Santana's small, flat "no" in response to her question, and she didn't understand what it meant. Her mind had been in overdrive since the call was disconnected as she tried to puzzle out what Santana's no meant and why she practically pleaded with Emma to come to the hospital. Santana had been so angry with her the one time they spoke and hearing her request that Emma meets them at the hospital was such a change that it made something inside Emma ache.
There was a time when that wouldn't have been unusual, but that felt like a different lifetime now. Shelby and Hiram had severed any connection that they once had. Now the kids were at the hospital and she didn't know where Shelby was and Emma should've been there. She should've fought harder when she had the chance. She should never have let Shelby push her away. She should've fought through her own shame and embarrassment and tried to talk to Quinn or Noah. She only hoped she wasn't too late.
Her hands shook as she slid on her shoes. She tried to ignore the weight of Will's gaze on the side of her face, knowing that he was still waiting for an explanation. She felt her anxiety grow as she realized that Will was watching her instead of continuing to get ready to leave. She didn't have time to wait for him. She should've left at least ten minutes ago and she didn't understand why Will didn't have the same urgency that she felt under her skin. She would just drive herself and he would have to meet her at the hospital.
She had barely taken ten steps towards the doorway when his hand was gripping her elbow, preventing her from leaving. She spun to face him, black spots dancing on the edges of her vision as she fought to push her panic aside and stay upright.
"Emma, stop. Just wait a minute, please. Tell me what's going on," Will pleaded.
Emma shook her head, "I don't have time for this, Will. I don't have time to explain to you what is going on. We should already be on our way to the hospital. You don't understand."
Will dropped her arm, rubbing the back of his neck as he muttered, "I don't understand because you won't explain it to me," He ignored the withering look Emma shot him as she turned to race down the stairs, Will following her, "Can you at least tell me who was on the phone?"
"The Office of Families and Children," Emma stated simply as she reached for the keys that hung on the ring beside the front door, Will swatting her hand away as he lifted them from the ring, muttering that they "didn't even have any children", "And Santana."
"Lopez?!" Will questioned incredulously, stopping short in the doorway as he stared after Emma, "Why would Santana Lopez be calling you at home? How does she even have your number?"
"She's my niece."
Will didn't understand. Emma had told him she had no family. He knew that both her parents had died and she never mentioned any siblings. It didn't make any sense that Emma would never have mentioned that the Lopez siblings were her nieces and nephew. He had both Santana and Noah in his Spanish class and he had never seen Emma acknowledge them not even with a passing glance in the hallway. He didn't understand how they could be related and why Emma would've kept it a secret.
"Emma, why didn't you ever tell me?" Will questioned softly when he slid into the driver's seat of the car. He watched as Emma rubbed her hands together, her mouth moving soundlessly as she counted the number of times her hands met and she didn't seem to hear his question. He reached out to put his hands over hers, drawing her attention to him.
Emma sighed, staring out the window, "I-I don't know. My relationship with their mom is complicated. My sister, Shelby and I were so close once. She helped raise me. She was my best friend but she got married and we..we stopped talking and so much time passed that it was just easier to..forget..to stop trying."
She hadn't talked about Shelby in so long. She could feel the familiar hurt rising in her chest as she thought about her older sister. She didn't want to talk about her with Will. She wasn't sure he would ever look at her the same once he knew everything. She felt heat in her cheeks as a shameful blush crept over the surface of her skin. She didn't know how she could explain to Will why she never talked to or about the children. There was no good explanation for her actions. She was grateful that he seemed to accept her half-hearted response and didn't push further.
She rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window, allowing Will to continue to rub soothing patterns against the palm of her hand. She wished she could offer him more of an account of her and Shelby's relationship but there wasn't one. Everything she wanted to say just sounded like an excuse or a lie or abandonment. She hadn't been given a choice when the kids were small and she had been too young, and too naive to do anything but wait for Shelby to come to her senses. She had waited until the hurt had turned to anger when her mom died and Shelby hadn't been there. Shelby had been her older sister and their mom was gone and she had been alone to try to figure everything out. She had left them but Shelby had left her first but that sounded too childish and too petty to ever be an explanation. The kids had been innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire of something that was never their fault. Emma couldn't ignore the pang of sadness in her chest at her own thoughts.
She had been so stupid. She had her suspicions about Hiram and Shelby's marriage and she had left them anyway. It was always easier for her to blame everything on Shelby alone but she had left too. She had chosen to stay away. She knew that dwelling on the past helped no one but the past was part of the present and if she couldn't explain it to Will, how could she ever explain it to her nieces and nephews? She should've pushed back against Shelby's assurances and her cold refusal to accept Emma's help. Shelby had been different after marrying Hiram and the twins' birth and Emma had recognized the changes in her sister and yet she hadn't done anything about it. This wasn't the first time she had received a frantic phone call from the hospital. She had felt just as helpless then.
"Aunt Emma?" Emma heard a small voice sniffle when she answered the phone. Emma immediately recognized the voice on the other line as that of her nine year old niece, Santana.
Emma stood from her desk, her homework already forgotten with the sound of the tears in Santana's quivering voice, frantically searching her room for her shoes and her keys, "Santana? What's wrong? Are you okay?
"Mom-mom's hurt. We are at the hospital in Bluffton," Santana explained.
Emma frowned deeply at the knowledge that Shelby and the kids were at the hospital in the next town over. Lima had four different hospitals and she didn't understand why they would be there. She felt her heart pound in her chest as she raced to her car, trying not to think too deeply about why they would be at the hospital in the next town over.
"Who else is with you, San? Besides your mom?" Emma questioned, as she turned her key in the ignition, guiding her car out of the driveway, resisting the urge to press down on the gas pedal and race to the hospital.
"It's just me, Noah, and Quinn. They said we had to call someone. They won't let us stay with her. But-but they said we can't be here by ourselves. You have to come Emma. Please."
"I'm already on my way, San, I'll be there soon," Emma soothed, "Where are Rachel and Blaine?"
"Hiram took them to the babysitter and then we came here," Santana explained. Emma could hear the murmur of voices on the other line, and it sounded like Santana was arguing with someone but the other voice was unclear, "I can't talk anymore. I'll see you when you get here."
Emma listened as the line went dead, pulling the phone away from her ear and allowing it to drop into her passenger seat. She knew she was speeding but she couldn't worry about that now. She should've asked Santana more questions. She didn't even know why they were at the hospital other than that Shelby had been hurt. She hadn't asked because Santana sounded so scared and so alone, her voice tiny and it broke Emma's heart a little.
It took Emma nearly twenty minutes from the time Santana had hung up the phone to reach Bluffton Medical Center. She had hardly parked her car before she was grabbing her phone, shoving it in her purse as she sprinted to the emergency room entrance. It wasn't hard for her to spot the girls and Noah once she entered the pneumatic doors into the emergency room lobby. Her brain started to immediately fire with thoughts of how filthy everything in the hospital had to be even though it looked clean. Her skin crawled and her palms itched to be washed with scalding water as Emma thought about the microscopic bacteria and viruses that were teeming on every surface in the waiting room, just waiting to infect her. She knew that they had probably already coated her skin and her hair from the air that swirled in the room every time the door opened and closed.
She did her best to ignore the intrusive thoughts that were making her head spin and her stomach twist uncomfortably as she made her way across the waiting room to the children. She was struck by how small and out of place they looked sitting in the waiting room of the emergency department. Noah and Santana were sitting ramrod straight, spines stiff and hardened expressions on their faces in an attempt to keep the other patients at bay. Quinn was sandwiched between them, her head lolling against Santana's shoulder as her eyes drifted close every so often. The fierceness they were exuding would've been adorable if it didn't make her so sad. Noah and Santana were ten and nine, they weren't supposed to have to be so tough all the time. They were supposed to just be kids but Shelby's marriage to Hiram and the twins' birth had forced them to grow up far quicker than was fair.
Emma glanced around at the other patients who sat in the emergency department. Her gaze settled on a middle age woman speaking rapid-fire Spanish to the pale-faced boy next to her who was clutching his arm and grimacing every so often. She tried not to stare too long at the obese elderly man who was sweating and coughing into a handkerchief. Her stomach flipped at the sight as she mentally calculated just how many showers she would need to get the filth of the hospital off of her skin. She contemplated just throwing away the clothes she was wearing, not believing that laundry detergent alone would get them clean enough. She was frozen. She wasn't supposed to freeze when they needed her but she was struggling to silence the screaming in her brain.
It was Quinn who spotted her first. The seven year old climbed down from the hard plastic chair, ignoring Santana and Noah's warnings, as she ran to Emma throwing her arms around Emma's legs and squeezing tightly. Emma gasped as Quinn's arms made contact with her bare legs, fighting off the instinctive urge to cringe and shove the little girl away, as she wondered just how many germs the little girl transferred to her skin. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, concentrating on her breathing, counting obsessively in her head as she tried to calm her racing heart. She repeated to herself that she was there for them, that they needed her, over and over in her head like a mantra as she waited for her heart rate to slow.
Santana and Noah made their way over to her when they saw just who Quinn had run towards. Noah kept his arms crossed over his chest tightly, his lips pressed together in a thin line, frowning deeply but Emma could see the tears swimming in his eyes. Santana attempted to coax Quinn away from Emma almost as if she could sense Emma's discomfort. Emma waved her off as her breathing slowed. She shifted Quinn off of her legs in order to crouch in front of the children, careful not to make contact with the ground. Quinn threw her arms around her neck tightly and Emma could feel the little girl trembling. Santana didn't make any move toward Emma, staring at her shoes as she scuffed them against the linoleum, her shoulders hunched and she suddenly seemed so little.
"C'mere, San," Emma coaxed, opening the arm that wasn't wrapped around Quinn. Santana looked at her, her cheeks puffy and her eyes rimmed with red from the remnants of her tears. Santana allowed Emma to embrace her, her body stiffening slightly before she shuddered and relaxed into the embrace, burying her face into the space where Emma's neck met her shoulder. Emma held them for a moment, rubbing her hands up and down their backs to comfort them before maneuvering them back to the row of hard plastic chairs, ensuring appropriate distance between them and the other patients, "What happened?"
She watched as Noah and Santana exchanged a glance with each other, a guilty, almost unreadable expression on their faces as they sat beside her. Quinn followed suit, climbing into Emma's lap, her bony knees and elbows digging into Emma's thighs and midsection uncomfortably as she tried to get comfortable.
"She fell," Santana whispered, glancing away from Emma, suddenly very interested in a spot on the wall. She was lying. Emma could see the sheepish look on Santana's face, and the way she twisted her hands in her lap, before shoving them under her thighs in an attempt to stop their nervous movement. Santana always fidgeted and touched when she was uncomfortable. Emma studied Noah next, but he was better than his sister at schooling his face into an unreadable expression as he stared at the muted TV hanging on the wall.
Emma sighed, as she jostled Quinn's weight in her lap, trying to make her more comfortable but careful not to touch any unnecessary surface, "How did she fall? Where did she fall?"
Santana shrugged her thin shoulders passively, her gaze moving from the wall to her lap, as she bit her lip thoughtfully, "I…I don't know. I didn't see it happen. She just told me she fell. She hurt her arm and then we came here."
Emma watched Santana shift uncomfortably under her gaze, her lips pressed tightly together as she looked anywhere but at Emma, "Santana, is that really what happened?"
"Yes," Santana snapped before she turned to glare at Emma, her face contorted with anger but Emma could see a slight flash of fear and panic in her eyes before she was able to catch herself, "I'm not lying."
Emma held Santana's gaze for a moment before nodding, even though she didn't believe anything Santana was telling her. Noah and Santana were acting differently and she knew they were hiding something but it wasn't fair for her to continue to question them. They were just kids and it should be Shelby she sought her answers from. Shelby was the one that was injured. She was the one that should have to explain herself. Emma motioned for Quinn to move off of her lap before standing and gesturing for Quinn to take her vacated chair.
"Where are you going?" Noah questioned his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he watched her stand.
"I'm gonna go see your mom. I'll be-"
"You can't just leave us," Quinn cried, grabbing Emma's hand, "The mean lady over there said we had to stay with an adult but she wouldn't let us stay with Mommy. I don't wanna get in trouble."
Emma knelt in front of Quinn, running her fingers through Quinn's hair, the little girl's lips quivering in an exaggerated pout as her eyes filled with tears, "You aren't gonna get in trouble, Quinn. I just need to let your mom know that I'm gonna take you home with me. It'll only take five minutes. Just stay with Santana and Noah, please?"
Quinn nodded, sniffling as she released Emma's hand. Emma strode away from them to the triage desk. She exchanged a couple of words with the nurse behind the desk, explaining the situation. She turned at the entrance to the exam rooms, gesturing for the three wide-eyed children who were watching her every move to stay put. She followed the nurse down the hallway to an exam room that was separated down the center by a thin curtain, the side closest to the door containing a young woman who was moaning in pain. Emma walked around the curtain and found Shelby sitting in the center of the cot, her eyes shut, her legs stretched out in front of her, her left arm propped up on a pillow in her lap, an ice pack draped across her wrist. Her eyes snapped open when she heard the squeak of Emma's shoes on the linoleum. Emma took in the way her sister's eyes widened subtly before her expression hardened as she rolled her eyes.
Shelby tore her gaze away from Emma's, slumping back on the cot as she adjusted the ice pack on her wrist, her eyes closing, "What are you doing here?"
Emma didn't respond immediately to her sister's question, using Shelby's distraction and closed eyes to make her way further into the room, standing so her knees were bumping the edge of the cot, studying her older sister's face. She made a note of the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her carefully applied foundation seemed heavier than normal. She could almost see yellowed skin or faded bruising peeking out from beneath her foundation.
"I should be asking you that," Emma stated, Shelby's eyes opening as she glared at Emma. Emma couldn't help but shrink from Shelby's glare, "Santana called me."
Shelby sighed, pressing her thumb and pointer finger against the bridge of her nose, "She shouldn't have done that. I told her not to call anyone."
"She's just a kid, Shelby. Of course, she called me. She's scared. They all are. Did you think they were just going to sit in that waiting room alone?"
Shelby shrugged passively and something about the gesture infuriated Emma, and made her want to grab her older sister and shake her, "I'm fine. You can go now."
"You're not fine, Shel. You're in the hospital. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened."
"Didn't Santana tell you? She's the reason you're here after all."
"She told me you fell and she didn't see it happen. She's a terrible liar," Emma said, wryly, and Shelby's eyes widened slightly as she held Emma's gaze for a beat.
"That's what happened. Noah left his cleats in the hallway and I tripped. I just landed funny."
"Now I know where Santana gets it from," Emma observed and Shelby rolled her eyes, "You and I both know that isn't what happened," She gestured towards the slightly yellowed skin under her older sister's eye that not even her heavy makeup was doing a good job of hiding, "Are you gonna try to tell me you got that from a fall too?"
Shelby froze, her lips parted slightly in surprise as she suddenly became very interested in the ceiling, "Stop it. Just stop."
"Stop what? Stop asking you to be honest with me. Stop asking you to tell me the truth?"
Shelby sighed deeply, clenching her jaw so tightly that Emma could see the muscle twitching under her skin, "I told you I fell."
"And I told you that I know you're lying," Emma could feel frustration burning in her chest, her skin flushing as frustrated tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. This conversation was going nowhere. Shelby was never going to tell her what happened. Her older sister was clinging so tightly to the lie that she told herself and forced her children to repeat and Emma just wanted to rip it away from her, "He did this, didn't he?"
Emma saw Shelby's features contort before she could catch herself, and Emma knew she was right. She didn't feel any relief in that knowledge. She knew her sister was just going to continue to lie. Hiram was hurting her and Emma felt sick. Emma had noticed subtle changes in her older sister in the two years since she had married Hiram but she hadn't pushed, she hadn't said anything, so afraid to lose her older sister. The changes had been small at first, Shelby was suddenly too busy to come to Sunday dinner at her mother's house and Emma and their mother were not allowed to come to Shelby's without calling first and she always, always had to seek Hiram's approval. Hiram controlled every aspect of Shelby's life including having children.
Emma had thought maybe Blaine and Rachel would soften him but Shelby had become almost unrecognizable after the twins' birth. She hadn't wanted any more children and they hadn't saved her the way that she thought they would. She had gone somewhere so dark that it changed everything. She wasn't the same, the children weren't the same, and Hiram had become even more controlling. Emma knew that Shelby and their mom had been fighting about Shelby's behavior, about the changes, and about Hiram but Emma didn't think until this moment she ever really understood what their mother suspected and why Shelby and their mother had stopped talking. Emma was the only connection Shelby still had to their mother and that was even at its breaking point now. But she saw it so clearly now, all the signs were there, she just hadn't had the map. She couldn't just ignore it anymore, even if that meant losing her sister.
"Keep your voice down," Shelby hissed, eyes darting furtively towards the doorway and the curtain that divided the room into two, "No one did anything to me. I already told you I fell. That's all that happened."
Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes, "You're covering for him."
"I don't know what you think happened but you're wrong. Hiram is my husband. He isn't-"
"Then why are you here?" Emma snapped, holding a hand up to silence Shelby when she opened her mouth to continue to spout lies, "Stop saying you fell. We both know that's a bullshit excuse. And it's not what I mean anyways, why did you come to this hospital? Why not just go to Lima Memorial?"
Shelby deflated slightly, glancing down at her lap and the ice pack that covered her wrist, "I was embarrassed."
Emma chuckled mirthlessly, the sound surprising to her own ears, "But I thought you fell? Falling isn't embarrassing, Shel. No one cares if you're a klutz. But do you know what is embarrassing? Having your husband's colleagues see you and ask questions."
Shelby's expression darkened as she spun to face Emma, her hands clenching into fists, "Fuck you," Emma's mouth dropped open in shock at the venom in her sister's tone. Shelby had never spoken to her with that much anger in her tone, and for a second, she braced herself for a blow that didn't come, "Do you think you can just fucking come in here and talk to me about my marriage. Hiram is my husband, Emma."
Emma frowned deeply, "He's hurting you, Shel. He's supposed to love you and he's hurting you."
"Just go, Em, please," Shelby pleaded, her voice more tired than it was just moments before, "And don't come around anymore, okay? I know you don't like Hiram but he is my husband and until you can accept that, then just stay the hell out of my life."
Emma's mouth dropped open in surprise, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes as she opened and closed her mouth uselessly, "You-you can't be serious, Shelby. You're-you're my sister," Emma cleared her throat, hating how high-pitched her voice had become, "You're my sister and you're telling me that if I don't keep my mouth shut and let your husband keep hurting you, then you don't want me in your life," Shelby nodded but still didn't make eye contact with her sister, "I won't do that, Shel. I can't. I can't just let him-"
"It's not your choice, Emma." Shelby snapped, "This is my life. My marriage."
"What about them? What about your kids? They're terrified," Emma could feel rage bubbling in her chest as Shelby sat impassively. She hated that Shelby wasn't fighting. She wasn't fighting for herself or for her children. She was supposed to fight. Her older sister had been through so much but she had always been a fighter, ever since they were kids but she didn't know what to do with this new version of Shelby, "You don't want me in your life, fine. But I'm not going to let him hurt them, too. I'll just report what I know. Someone needs-"
Shelby wasn't so impassive then, sitting bolt upright on the cot, her eyes dark and full of warning but Emma could see fear there as well, "You can't! You wouldn't fucking dare!"
Emma just raised an eyebrow in response not breaking eye contact with her sister, challenging Shelby to call her bluff but all she did was glare. Emma had never challenged Shelby. Shelby was the big sister and Emma was the little sister and Emma had always done what Shelby asked. But she wouldn't do this. She knew Shelby was waiting for her to back down, to tell her that her secret was safe but she couldn't do that. She finally broke eye contact with Shelby when the doctor walked into the room, at the same time that Shelby spat a venomous "get out" to Emma. Emma just nodded curtly, ignoring the furious pounding of her heart in her chest as she stalked out of the room.
"Em, we're here," Will said, squeezing Emma's hand gently. Emma pulled her forehead away from the window, staring up at the edifice of Lima Memorial Hospital, "Where'd you go?"
Emma shook her head. She wasn't ready to talk to Will about Shelby and Hiram and that day in the hospital so long ago, "It's not important."
Will didn't push further and for that she was grateful. He just shut the engine off, keeping her hand tightly in his, "We should go inside."
Emma felt her stomach churn as her heart started to gallop in her chest. Her palms were suddenly sweaty and her mouth dry. She wasn't ready to go inside yet. She wasn't ready to face what was waiting for her behind the doors of the hospital. She knew they needed her but she knew they hated her too. She knew she deserved it. She hated herself a little too.
"I-I just need a minute." She whispered, pulling her hand from Will's, wiping her sweaty palms on the front of her jeans as she clasped her hands together, waiting for the beating of her heart to slow and her stomach to stop churning.
….
"San, is she coming?" Quinn asked as soon as her sister hung up the phone, watching as Santana passed the phone back to Anna. Quinn had watched with interest as Santana talked on the phone to their aunt, but Santana's expression had been guarded, unreadable and Quinn didn't know what to think.
"Mm-hmm," Santana murmured, her eyes fixed on the hospital entrance as she drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm the nervous twisting of her stomach.
She had been to Lima Memorial many times before. Hiram had worked here and Shelby had brought them here when they were small to bring Hiram dinner or to eat with him in the hospital cafeteria. Everything had been so easy then and the familiar hospital didn't seem so large and foreboding as it did tonight. Tonight it contained her injured baby sister and Hiram and her mother were dead. She couldn't help but wonder if the news had already made it through the hospital.
"Girls, are you ready to go inside?" Anna questioned from the front seat, and Santana saw Quinn nod from the edges of her vision, as she reached for the door handle. Santana reached for Quinn's hand where it rested on the backseat, stopping her sister from exiting the car.
"Don't say anything to Noah about Emma," Santana explained and Quinn turned toward her, brow furrowed with confusion, "Not yet, okay? Just…he's gonna be pissed. I've gotta figure out how to tell him."
Quinn nodded and Santana released her grip on Quinn's hand as they exited the car. Santana shivered as soon as the cool night air hit her skin but she wasn't sure if it was from the temperature or from anxiety. Her legs were shaking and she wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection to hide the way her hands trembled. She trailed behind Quinn and Anna as they made their way into the hospital emergency room. She wondered if Quinn felt as anxious as she was and fought the urge to reach for her sister's hand.
The waiting room was quiet and nearly empty, the only sound was the soft murmur of the infomercial that was playing on the TV mounted on the wall. Santana glanced quickly at the bored triage nurse who barely acknowledged their entrance as she continued to file her nails. The emergency department was fairly empty for a Friday night. Santana scanned the room quickly her gaze landing on a group of young adults speaking to each other in the opposite corner, a young couple and their small daughter, and an older man emitting wet coughs every so often. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted Noah reclining in a chair beside Finn and his mom, scrolling through his phone idly with his legs propped up on the chair in front of him.
Santana felt a surge of anger in her chest. Noah wasn't supposed to be out here scrolling nonchalantly on his phone. Their mom was dead. Rachel was hurt and she didn't know where Blaine was and Noah was just sitting here. He was supposed to be doing something.
She stalked towards him, her hands clenched in fists at her side, ignoring Quinn hissing her name to stop her. Santana shoved his outstretched legs off of the chair in front of him which caused Noah to slump sideways against Finn, sputtering as he righted himself, glaring up at him.
"What are you doing?" Santana hissed as she came to stand in front of him, her eyes narrowed in a fierce glare.
Noah rolled his eyes, gesturing to the room around them, "Waiting."
"What the fuck, Noah?" Santana exploded and she didn't have to look to know that everyone in the waiting room was staring at her now. She didn't care. She could feel Quinn standing beside her and recognized the warmth of Quinn's palm on the small of her back before she shook it off, "You're not supposed to be waiting. You're supposed to be with Blaine and Rachel. You weren't supposed to leave them alone."
"They had to get examined. They're with the doctors. They're fine," Noah explained.
Santana's hand twitched with the urge to punch him but she just clenched her fists tighter, hitting him wouldn't make her feel better anyway, "They aren't fucking fine, dumbass. Rachel was hurt and Blaine was scared. They needed you to be with them. Why didn't you just fucking listen to me?"
"Santana-" Noah started but Santana held up a hand to silence any explanation he was going to offer.
She should never have let Noah be the one to come to the hospital with the twins. It should've been her. Noah didn't understand because Noah wasn't there. Noah hadn't been the one to find Blaine and Rachel on the floor of the closet and he didn't understand that they had been alone for who knows how long before Santana found them. She felt her heart sink as she pictured her little siblings crying out for them, for their mom, and having no one there to comfort them. Blaine and Rachel were still so little and they wouldn't understand.
She needed to fix this.
Blaine and Rachel couldn't think that everyone had left them. She needed to be with them. They didn't even know that their parents were dead and they were all alone. She couldn't make the same mistake twice. She had left them with Brittany and Hiram had found them and it had destroyed everything. She couldn't do that again.
Santana marched towards the triage desk, brushing past Quinn, who attempted to place a hand on her arm to stop her. The nurse at the triage desk was no longer filing her nails but was on the phone and didn't even acknowledge Santana standing in front of her. Santana couldn't do anything but slap the wood of the desk a few times to try to get the woman's attention. It worked as the nurse turned toward her, an unamused expression on her face as she studied Santana.
"How can I help you?" The nurse asked flatly.
"My brother and sister. They were brought here earlier. I need to see them. Now." Santana demanded.
"Are you eighteen?"
"W-what? Why does that matter?"
"You have to be eighteen to go to the exam rooms unattended."
"Bullshit!" Santana shouted as she brought her palm down hard on the wood of the desk, ignoring the stinging pain that shot up her arm with the force and the way the nurse jumped up from her desk, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.
"I'm sorry but it's hospital policy. I'm going to need you to sit down and calm down or I'm going to be forced to call security."
Santana growled deep in her throat, preparing to launch herself over the desk and at the woman but was stopped by an arm around her waist and the familiar scent of her best friend's perfume.
"San, you need to stop," Brittany whispered against the shell of Santana's ear and Santana stiffened.
Santana's hands clenched into fists once again, her nails biting into the soft, flesh of her palm, grounding her, "Get off me, Britt."
She felt Brittany's grip on her waist loosen as she released Santana. Santana knew that Brittany was only trying to help but touching her wasn't helping. She felt like everything was spinning too quickly around her, her heart was beating too fast and too loud, and her blood rushed too quickly in her veins as the anger threatened to overpower her. She could feel the tension building under her skin. Her eyes darted around the waiting room as she scanned to find someone, anyone who would take her to see her siblings.
"You," Santana cried, crooking one finger in Anna's direction as she moved toward her, "Can you please tell that woman that I can go see Blaine and Rachel or take me to see them?"
"Santana, I can't do that. Not right now."
Santana groaned in frustration, throwing her hands in the air, "Why the hell not? Why won't anyone take me to see them?"
"They're with the doctors. We need to let doctors do their job," Anna explained.
Santana scoffed. She didn't understand why everyone was just assuming that Blaine and Rachel were safe because they were with doctors. Hiram was a doctor and he was still a monster. He was a doctor and he had killed their mother, just being a doctor didn't make someone a good fucking person. She needed to find them. She needed to be with them. She felt like she was going crazy. She could feel emotion bubbling in her chest and she needed it to stop, being with Blaine and Rachel would make it stop.
"The doctors can do their job if I'm there," Santana negotiated, "They're just little kids and they're all alone. They need me! They fucking need someone with them! Why won't you just let me see them?"
Santana hated this. She hated that she sounded more desperate than angry and that still everyone was refusing to allow her to see them. She didn't understand what they didn't get. She could feel anxiety curdling in her stomach at every passing moment she was stuck in this waiting room. She couldn't stop hearing Blaine and Rachel crying when she found them that night and she needed to be there.
"You're angry," Anna observed passively.
"Of course, I'm fucking angry," Santana hissed, "I'm fucking angry because no one will take me to see them, and my fucking brother was supposed to be with them this whole time. So yeah, I'm fucking angry."
"It's okay to be angry, but I can't take you to see them when you are this upset-"
"Excuse me?!" Santana spat, cutting off anything else Anna may have had to say, "Who the fuck are you to tell me when I can go see them? You don't know me. You don't know the first thing about any of us. You're only here because our mom is dead!"
"You're right. I don't know you and I don't know them but you said they're scared, right?" Anna probed and Santana gave a curt nod in response, "So how do you think they would feel if they saw you like this? Do you think they would be any less scared?"
"I. Don't. Care," Santana snarled, enunciating each word, "At least they'd know I'm here and that I didn't leave them."
"But it would scare them. You-"
"Stop talking about them like you know them!" Santana shouted, "I would never do anything to scare them. I'm their big sister."
"San, you need to calm down," Noah said from behind her, "Why don't you and I, like, take a walk or something?"
Noah had moved closer to Santana as she argued with the unfamiliar woman in front of her. He had watched as she clenched and unclenched her fists as she yelled at the woman in front of her. He still didn't know who she was and why she was so interested in all of them. He could see the muscle twitching in his sister's jaw and how tight her features had become the longer she argued. He knew she was thisclose to losing control and he had to make sure he could stop her before that happened. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty because she was angry with him. She was making a scene because of him. He should've stayed with Blaine and Rachel.
Santana felt her chest tighten and her breathing quicken at the sound of Noah's voice. His voice was close, too close. Her eyes darted around the room as she tried to slow her breathing once again. She saw Quinn sitting beside Mrs. Pierce, her face buried in Mrs. Pierce's chest. Brittany was still hovering on Santana's right side and she knew from the sound of his voice that Noah was on her left. She could see a police officer just beyond Anna's shoulder, his eyes trained on her. She was surrounded on all sides and everyone was treating her like some bomb in need of defusing. Everyone was staring at her, watching her fall apart. They were surrounding her and she suddenly felt so claustrophobic. She felt like she couldn't breathe and she couldn't get away. No one was listening to her. None of them fucking understood anything.
She spun towards Noah, "Don't fucking tell me to calm down! You don't get to tell me that!" Noah shrunk slightly as the force of Santana's anger was directed towards him, he shoved his hands in his pocket, a sheepish expression on his face, "You're the fucking reason they're alone! I don't need to take a fucking walk! I need to be with them. Please."
Her attention turned back to Anna once again. She couldn't deal with Noah right now. She couldn't even look at him without wanting to punch him. He didn't get to try to tell her to calm down.
"Your brother is right. You need to calm down. A walk could help," Anna ventured.
"Everyone needs to stop telling me to calm down," Santana snapped, "I'll calm down once I see them. You don't understand."
"Santana, I know you care about them. I also know that a lot of really bad things happened to you all tonight and that's hard, but, Blaine and Rachel are going to be scared and confused for a while and you're their big sister. They are going to need you-"
"Then why are we still talking about this?"
"-They need to see you in control of your emotions. I know you wouldn't mean to scare them but seeing you this upset would scare them," Anna told her, "They wouldn't understand."
Santana deflated slightly at the older woman's words. She hated that this woman who barely knew them was right. But all she could picture was Rachel flinching that morning when she had playfully threatened her with a pillow and the way Blaine cowered and hid when they were too loud or too angry and she knew Anna was right. Blaine and Rachel would think that she was angry with them but she was just angry. She was clinging to her anger because it was easier but Blaine and Rachel wouldn't understand that.
She thought seeing them would make her feel better, would make the screaming in her head cease but she would just make everything worse. Her grip on everything was so tenuous and she wasn't sure she would be able to keep it together. She had already destroyed their family. It was her fault their mother was dead. She couldn't be responsible for their continued destruction.
Santana rolled her eyes, glancing away from Anna, as she drew in a deep breath, and held it for a second before releasing it, trying to calm the racing of her heart, "Fine. Whatever. But you will take me to see them right?"
"Of course. As soon as I can will." Anna assured.
Santana nodded, turning on her heel to make her way back to where everyone was sitting. Noah reached for her as she brushed past him. She pulled her arm away from him before he was able to make contact with her, wrapping her arms around her midsection, hugging herself as she slumped down in the chair beside Quinn. Brittany sank down in the chair beside her and Santana shot her a look, shaking her head when she could see that Brittany was going to reach for her as Noah had. She needed to calm down and she couldn't do that if everyone was going to insist on touching her.
"Sorry," Santana mumbled guilty, her eyes trained on her lap and the way she was twisting and untwisting her fingers, one leg bouncing up and down with anxiety.
She flinched, startled when Quinn's hand came to rest on top of her intertwined fingers, pushing down to still the bouncing of her legs. She glanced at Quinn from the corner of her eye. She could see the fresh tear stains on her sister's cheeks and how frightened and wide Quinn's hazel eyes seemed in her pale face. Quinn looked so damn young and so scared and Santana couldn't pull away. She didn't want to be touched but she could feel Quinn's hand trembling and knew Quinn was scared. She sighed and allowed Quinn to lace their fingers together and rest her head on Santana's shoulder.
"They'll be okay, San," Quinn whispered, her breath warm as it washed over Santana's collarbone and a shudder crept up Santana's spine at the sensation.
Santana chewed on her lower lip, biting back a retort as she drummed the fingers of her free hand on her thigh. She wanted to yell at Quinn, tell her she was wrong and that she didn't know that they would be okay but she couldn't. None of them were going to be okay. Nothing about any of this was okay. Things were the furthest from okay that they had ever been and they hadn't really ever been okay at all. She didn't know how she was going to tell Rachel and Blaine that their parents were dead or tell Noah that she had to call the aunt that abandoned them because they had no other option.
"I-I don't think they will be," Santana whispered brokenly.
Quinn drew in a shaky breath, pausing as she contemplated Santana's statement. She could feel the anxiety rolling off of her sister in waves and knew Santana was probably right. She hadn't been able to forget the look of confusion on her little brother's features when Santana led him from the house that night and the way his eyes had stayed fixed on the blood on Santana's clothing or Rachel's fragile broken form in her sister's arms and the sound of her cries from the depth of the ambulance.
"Maybe…maybe you're right but they're tough and we have each other," Quinn told her, squeezing her hand gently, "They have you."
Santana nodded, a tear slipping down the surface of her skin. She could feel more tears building in the back of her throat at Quinn's quiet conviction and she couldn't speak. She couldn't cry. She settled on squeezing Quinn's hand tighter because that was all she could do. She couldn't do anything then but hold Quinn's hand and watch the seconds tick by on the clock.
…
Blaine squeezed his eyes shut tightly as the lights in the hospital corridor blurred overhead. Everything was too bright and too loud, the fluorescent lights buzzing above him and the clatter of the stretcher wheels on the floor. Everything had been too bright and too loud since the moment Santana had found them on the floor of her closet. He didn't understand why the paramedics had made him ride on this stupid stretcher. He had told them he wasn't hurt. He was never hurt. He had begged them to let him stay with Rachel but they had separated them anyways and told him it wasn't safe for him to ride in the back of the ambulance with Rachel.
He thought riding in an ambulance would be pretty cool but it hadn't been. The wail of the siren was too loud and it made his chest hurt and even covering his ears hadn't been enough. It reminded him too much of the sound of his mother's screams and Rachel's cries and he hated it. He hated how his heart was beating so fast in his chest and he couldn't make it stop. He hated how red everything was and it made his stomach hurt because it reminded him of the blood that covered Santana's white shoes and her hands and he didn't understand where all that blood had come from. He hated that he had to lay on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance even when he felt like he was gonna throw up because he didn't know where Rachel was and he didn't know if she was still scared and crying and she needed him and he wasn't there.
Blaine opened his eyes when the stretcher came to a stop, his eyes darting frantically around the exam room. He was still by himself. The paramedics had told him he would see Rachel at the hospital and she wasn't there. He had to find her. She was hurt and he didn't know where he was. He shot upright on the bed and tried to climb down from the stretcher but was stopped by one of the paramedics placing a hand on his shoulder.
"My sister…where's my sister? You-you said she would be here. I h-h-have to find her," Blaine sputtered, his chest felt tight and he couldn't breathe
"She's right behind us. You're okay, bud," The paramedic soothed but Blaine didn't feel okay. He felt sick and scared and he just wanted someone to explain to him what happened and why he had to be checked out and why none of the big kids were with him. He wanted his mom. He heard the squeak of shoes on linoleum and wheels rattling down the hallway and watched the door as Rachel was wheeled in on the stretcher.
His chest loosened as his fingers found their way into his mouth once again. He could hear Santana's voice in his head telling him how gross sucking on his fingers was and how it made his fingers all wrinkly and he was gonna get an infection from all the germs on his hands but he didn't care, it made him feel better. He studied Rachel solemnly as she was wheeled into the room on a stretcher. She looked like she was asleep. Her eyes were closed but her forehead was wrinkled and he could see tears running down her cheeks. She was quiet now but she wasn't sleeping.
He repeated "open your eyes" over and over in his head as she stared at her, imploring her to listen to him. They were twins and sometimes they could talk without words. Noah said it was freaky and Quinn said it was cool but it wasn't working now. Rachel wouldn't open her eyes and he didn't know if she even knew he was there. He wanted to call out to her, to let her know he was right there but he couldn't find his voice. He wondered if he had left his voice on the ground of Santana and Quinn's closet with the rest of their things. Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks when his view of Rachel was blocked by doctors and nurses with cartoon faces on their scrubs.
Rachel was sobbing now and the sound made Blaine's stomach flip. The grown ups were asking her questions and shining lights in her eyes. She was crying and she didn't like what they were doing. Her cries grew in volume and it was the only thing Blaine could hear. She was crying and they weren't at the hospital anymore. They were on the floor of the closet and it was dark and scary and quiet and they were alone. His heart was pounding in his chest and it felt like it was in his throat and he was just waiting, waiting for their dad to find them or Santana to save them because Rachel was being too loud and she was supposed to be quiet.
"Get away from her!" He shouted when her cries increased in frequency, cringing at the dampness in his jeans as he maneuvered himself to his knees to try to see Rachel around the doctors and nurses that surrounded her. The heads of everyone in the room snapped to him, almost as if they had forgotten he was in there, and he pulled himself up to his full height, arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed in their direction, trying to channel his older siblings, "Leave her alone! You're scaring her! You're hurting her!"
He glared as hard as he could as a nurse with bright smiley faces printed across her clothes approached him, crouching down in front of him, "Hi Blaine, my name's Amanda," Blaine stayed silent, his eyes trained on the stupid smiley faces on her shirt. He wanted to tell her it was dumb to have smiley faces on her clothes in a place full of sick people and that he hated them. He didn't know how she knew his name, "I know being in the hospital can be really scary, but you and Rachel are safe here," His eyes snapped from the smiley faces on her shirt to her kind blue eyes, "We are trying to help her, Blaine. We aren't hurting her."
Blaine shook his head. They weren't helping her. She was screaming and crying and he wanted it to stop. He wanted to cover his ears because he didn't hear Rachel anymore. He heard his mom screaming at his dad, telling him to stop, telling him that he was hurting her. He couldn't let them hurt Rachel too. He jumped off the cot, shoving past Nurse Amanda and knocking her off balance slightly as he tried to get to Rachel. She was hurt and he needed to protect her. Noah told him he was the big brother and he was supposed to protect her. He promised he would protect her but he couldn't get to her.
He felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, lifting him from the ground slightly as he continued to fight against whoever was holding him. He could hear the timbre of a soft soothing voice in his ear but all he saw was Rachel, Rachel surrounded by strangers, and all he heard was Rachel, Rachel sobbing for him, for their sisters and brother, for their mom, and he fought harder because he needed to get to her, couldn't let anyone else hurt her.
"Let me go!" He shouted, kicking and straining against whoever was holding him, "Get away from her! You're hurting her! Leave her alone!"
He could feel everyone staring at him, watching him and he knew they were talking about him. He could see their lips moving but he couldn't hear what they were saying. They could have been shouting and he still wouldn't have heard them. He couldn't hear anything over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears and the sound of his screams.
"Blaine, you have to stop," A stern female voice said next to his ear, "You're scaring Rachel. You need to calm down!"
"No! You're hurting her!"
He needed to get to Rachel. Rachel needed to know he was there but the nurse was holding him and no matter how hard he fought he couldn't get whoever was holding him to let him go. He never could protect her. He was too little or too slow and he couldn't ever do anything. He saw Rachel through the sea of people. She was crying, her face was paler than he'd ever seen it and she had her hands pressed tightly to her ears to block out his shouts. She was crying because of him. He was supposed to protect her and he was making everything worse.
"I promise, we aren't hurting her. We're trying to help her," The nurse tried again and this time Blaine nodded, deflating in her grasp as he allowed her to lead him back to the stretcher.
His chest heaved and his heart pounded and he tried to calm down. He wanted his mom or his sisters. He scooted as far back on the stretcher as he could, pulling his legs to his chest as he rocked himself slightly. He felt something burst in his chest as tears started to fall down his cheeks. He didn't know if he was embarrassed or sad but he didn't want to cry. He wanted to stop crying. Crying didn't help anyone. He was supposed to be helping Rachel and not crying. His dad told him only pussies cried and Blaine wasn't supposed to be a pussy, he was supposed to be a man. His dad had told him he needed to be a man.
He felt someone running their fingers through his hair and it felt nice. He chewed his lip and tried to stop crying. Everything was quieter now and less chaotic. Rachel wasn't wailing but he could still hear her whimpering.
"I'm-I'm sorry," Blaine murmured, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He didn't know if he was apologizing for his outburst or for his tears.
The nurse with the smiley face scrubs, Amanda, sat on the end of the cot, her blue eyes piercing as they studied him, "It's okay, Blaine. It's okay to have really big feelings when you're scared, but you're safe here," Blaine nodded, sucking in a wet breath and fighting the urge to put his fingers back into his mouth, "Can you tell me what happened tonight? How did your sister get hurt?"
"She-she hit her head." He whispered.
"How'd she hit her head?"
Blaine froze, shaking his head slightly. He couldn't tell them that their dad had hurt Rachel. It was supposed to be a secret. He promised Rachel he would never tell. His dad was a doctor and they were at the hospital. He wondered if any of them were his dad's friends. He would find out if Blaine told them.
"I can't…I'm not 'posed to tell. I don't wanna get in trouble."
"Blaine, you aren't going to be in trouble if you tell us what happened to Rachel. We need your help. We need to take care of her and we can't do that if we don't know exactly what happened."
"D-Daddy pushed her and then we ran away," Blaine stammered. He saw her exchange a look with one of the doctors and he didn't understand, "You-you can't tell him I told. He's gonna be really mad that I told you."
"Breathe. You're doing a really good job, Blaine. Now after Rachel fell, did she fall asleep? Did you see any blood on her head?"
"She threw up once we were hiding in the closet," Blaine explained, "And-and there was a lot of blood but it wasn't on Rachel. It was on Santana. She had blood on her pants and her-her shoes. Did my daddy hurt her too? Is that why she had blood on her? Is she here too?"
Blaine felt his heart start to race in his chest once again as he searched Nurse Amanda's face, his eyes wide and panicked. He didn't think that his dad had hurt Santana when she appeared in the closet that night. But there was so much blood. It was everywhere and he didn't even ask if she was hurt. Santana could be hurt too. She could be somewhere in the hospital by herself.
"Blaine, I need you to stay with me, okay? Only you and Rachel were brought in but I will find Santana once we are done talking," She paused and waited for Blaine to nod, "Did your dad hurt you?"
Blaine shook his head. His dad never hurt him, it was always Rachel and his mom and sometimes the big kids too. He and Rachel had hidden because his dad was hurting their mom. She had told them to hide, "He didn't hurt me. He hurt Rachel and he-he hurt my mom too. Mom told us to run and I bumped my knee and had an accident but I'm not hurt. Is my mom-"
His question died in his throat when he saw that Rachel had been moved to a wheelchair. She was slumped over and shaking and they were taking her away, "Where are you taking her?! You can't take her! You can't!"
The nurse reached for him as he tried to scramble down from the stretcher once again. He couldn't let them take Rachel away. They were already alone and he couldn't let them take her. Noah and Santana told him it was his job to protect her and he couldn't do his job if they took her away.
"Blaine, we need to take some pictures of her head. They will bring her right back."
"No, no, no. I have to go with her, I have to." Blaine said frantically, an edge of hysteria to his voice as he attempted to slide down from the cot only to have his movement restricted by the nurse, and the male doctor he hadn't even noticed was standing there, "Please, please, please let me go with her."
He thrashed violently, kicking ineffectively against the mattress as he tried to buck the doctor and nurse off of him. His head was spinning. His vision grew fuzzy on the edges as his pleas turned silent while he struggled to take in air. He could hear the doctor and nurse talking to him but their voices sounded far away and he couldn't breathe. His eyes grew wide with the realization, the gray at the edge of his vision nearly overtaking him as he felt something slide down over his mouth and nose. His hands automatically came up to tug at it, to pull it off his face, because it couldn't be there, he already couldn't breathe. He couldn't pull it off and he felt like whatever had been placed over his nose and mouth was suffocating him.
The nurse and doctor were still talking to him, but he couldn't hear them. He could hardly see their lips moving. His chest hurt and his stomach flipped, his muscles burning as he tried to take a breath. He felt the first blast of cool air against his nose and mouth and he was forced to take a breath. He continued to take in deep gasping breaths, coughing intermittently as his chest loosened, and his vision cleared. He laid back on the cot, able to smell plastic now, knowing that the object that had been placed over his face was an oxygen mask. His head was still spinning slightly as his breathing returned to normal. His stomach cramped and twisted and turned. He was barely able to pull the mask from his face before he leaned over the edge of the stretcher as he retched violently onto the floor, the doctor and nurse having to jump back in order to avoid the vomit that splattered on the floor.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Blaine whimpered when he had finished vomiting, staring at the mess on the floor, his eyes filling with tears as he scooted back on the mattress. He was trembling as tears filled his eyes, every muscle in his body tense as he stared at the doctor and nurse with wide, fearful eyes as they did their best to reassure him. "I want my mom."
He let out a deep, gasping sob as he watched the doctor and Nurse Amanda exchange a look, their voices dropping to whispers once again. He didn't know where his mom was and why no one was talking about her. His dad had been hurting her and she was screaming so loud and then everything was so quiet, too quiet. He didn't understand why Santana had made him wear a scarf as a blindfold and why he hadn't seen his mom or dad after they hid or when Santana took them outside. He just wanted someone to explain it to him. His head and stomach hurt and he felt so sick and he just wanted his mom to make it all better. He wanted Santana too, even if he was a little mad at her because she didn't listen to him and his dad had been so mad when he picked them up from Brittany's. He didn't want to be in this too bright room or his too damp clothes anymore. He wanted to go home. He wanted Rachel to come back and he was worried she might never.
"Blaine, I need to examine you really quickly, okay?" The doctor told him and Blaine nodded.
He wanted to protest because he wasn't hurt. He never got hurt but his mom was hurt and the doctor should be helping her not him. He didn't say any of those things though. He couldn't stop crying and he wasn't supposed to cry. He did his best to follow the doctor's instructions even if his stethoscope was too cold and the blood pressure cuff pinched his arm. He felt shame blossom in his chest as someone came to mop up the mess he made on the floor. He was grateful when Nurse Amanda brought him a pair of sweatpants and he was able to change out of his soiled clothes even if the pants were too big and too long and hung over the top of his shoes.
He still couldn't stop crying and Nurse Amanda was rubbing his back and she was nice but it didn't help. He wanted to yell at her, tell her he didn't want her that he wanted his siblings or his mom but he couldn't do anything but bury his face in his hands and sob. He watched the door, waiting for Rachel to reappear because she had been gone forever and he was starting to think that she was never going to come back and he would be here alone forever.
"I wanna see my sister," Blaine mumbled, his voice thick with mucus and tears as he scrubbed at his face to try to rid it of the tear tracks.
"She'll be back soon, Blaine, they're still taking some pictures of her head."
Blaine shook his head, peering at the nurse through his eyelashes as he shifted uncomfortably, "Not her. My other sisters, Santana and Quinn. Are they here?"
They had to be at the hospital. He knew they weren't hurt and he hadn't seen either of them after Mrs. Pierce led them to the ambulance. Noah had been there but he had left too. But they had to be here. They had to be somewhere in this hospital. They would never have left them alone. They could tell him what happened and where his parents were.
"I'm not sure, but if the doctor says it's okay, I can take you to check the waiting room for them."
"What-what about Rachel?" Blaine asked.
"She's hurt pretty badly. She'll have to stay back here so we can take care of her."
Blaine bit his lip as he contemplated his options. He couldn't leave Rachel alone. She still wasn't back and she would be scared all by herself. He wanted his siblings but he needed to protect Rachel. He didn't want her to be scared all by herself.
"I'll stay until she comes back. She'll be scared if I leave," Nurse Amanda smiled softly at him, and he looked away, "But can you find them for me? Can you find them and tell them I'm okay and I'm taking care of Rachel?"
"Of course, I can do that," Nurse Amanda assured him, squeezing his knee gently.
He watched as he spoke to someone at the desk just beyond the door to the room he was in before she was back. She pulled up a chair and used the remote to turn the TV on across the room. He allowed the cartoon she turned on to capture his attention for a moment but his thoughts were still far away. His head still hurt and he still felt like he was on the floor of the closet. He still didn't understand anything. He felt his eyelids growing heavy. He leaned back on the cot, his fingers once again finding their way into his mouth as he tried to get lost in the adventures of Spongebob and Patrick.
He wanted to drown out the sounds of the beeping machines, too loud voices and shoes squeaking on the linoleum as people moved throughout the hallways. He didn't want to see the stupid smiley faces on the nurse's scrubs anymore he still hated them. He waited for the squeak of the wheels and the clicking against the floor that would tell him that Rachel had come back from wherever they had taken her. He felt his eyes flutter closed and shifted on the bed in order to stay awake. He couldn't fall asleep before Rachel came back but it was no use. His body suddenly felt too heavy and relaxed and even shifting wasn't enough to keep him from succumbing to sleep as he lost the battle and allowed his eyes to fall closed.
*Loved it, hated it, let me know!*