Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All characters are owned by RIB and Glee.
"Do you know where my mom is?" Blaine repeated, but yet again there was no response. He glanced between all the adults in the room but they were looking at each other and not at him. He didn't know if they even heard him. He wasn't sure why they weren't listening,
A heavy silence engulfed the room as Blaine's question hung in the air, seeming to reverberate off the exam room walls before echoing in Santana's mind. She wanted to scream at the adults in the room to answer his question. She wanted just one adult to do their freaking job as an adult and be the one to answer his damn question. It couldn't be her that answered him but she could already feel Rachel's eyes on her face and knew it would be her that they turned to next.
She couldn't do it. She felt like her entire body was made of cardboard and tissue paper only being held together by scotch tape and Elmer's glue and having to tell her baby sister and brother that their mother was dead threatened to tear her fragile existence into pieces. She couldn't speak when her stomach was roiling with nausea and anxiety and just the thought of her opening her mouth made her fearful that she would expel the contents of her stomach right on the floor in front of them.
She wanted to run and hide from the pressure that was building in her chest and her head, pressing against the back of her eyes as every emotion she could possibly feel welled inside of her. Santana wanted to hide like Blaine and Rachel had hidden in the closet but the guilt that swirled within her pinned her down and held her in place. She couldn't leave them again but she couldn't tell them about their mom either. They had trusted her to keep them safe. They had trusted her when she told them they would be safe at Brittany's house and that their dad wouldn't find them but she had been wrong. She had been wrong and Hiram had destroyed everything.
Fear clutched at her heart causing it to pound against her rib cage. She couldn't tell them because they would know it was all her fault. Everything that had been destroyed and ruined had been because of her fatal miscalculation. She didn't know how they would ever be able to look at her the same when they realized it had been her actions and the chances she took that had snuffed out any possibility that they may have had a normal life. They were all each other had now and the fear that she may lose them when they knew the truth was paralyzing. She was just a kid too burdened by decisions that should never have been hers to make. Just this once she needed the adults around them, the well-meaning strangers that had inserted themselves into their lives to do what she couldn't.
"Sanny, do you know where Mom is?" Rachel questioned softly. Her voice crashed over Santana like a wave, threatening to drag her under and all Santana could do was suck in air and try to stay above the surface, desperate to keep her emotions from dragging her down into the depths.
Rachel was staring at her, her brown eyes wide and wet as they traced over her features. It was too much. Santana tore her eyes away from Rachel's and swept her gaze over the adults in the room. They still weren't saying anything. She suddenly felt claustrophobic, Rachel's arms were too tight around her waist and Blaine's weight was too heavy where he leaned against her.
"I-I can't…I can't….I'm sorry," Santana cried, frantically unwinding Rachel's arms from her waist as she hopped down off of the cot, ignoring Rachel's whimper of protest. She couldn't stay. She couldn't be here when they learned the truth. She shoved past Anna and Detective Jack, ignoring the way they called after her as she shot the twins an apologetic look before bursting into the hallway.
She bent over at the waist, resting her hands on her knees. She gulped greedily trying to pull air into her lungs that had seized up, constricted by the weight of the panic crashing over her. Feeling like she had run a mile, she could do little but focus on pulling air into her lungs trying to clear the black spots from her vision and quell the quivering of her limbs.
She flinched when she felt a hand on the small of her back, dragging her eyes up from the floor to see Quinn peering at her.
"Go…go away," Santana gasped out and she heard the sharp intake of breath Quinn drew in before backing up a few steps.
"Santana-" Quinn started.
"Please, Q," Santana whispered, her words ragged, desperate, and pleading, "Just please go."
Santana couldn't do this in the hospital hallway. Quinn would want to talk, to ask questions and she couldn't do that here. She couldn't fall apart any more than she already had. She was doing everything she could to delicicately weave the shattered pieces of herself back together. She knew that Quinn would inevitably find the one loose thread she had forgotten about and tug on it just right and everything would disintegrate into a chaotic mess once again. She needed to be there for Blaine and Rachel once they knew and she wouldn't be able to do that if she allowed Quinn to pull her apart once again.
"Fine," Quinn murmured, unable to disguise the hurt in her voice, thick with unshed tears.
Santana straightened up as Quinn turned away from her, her shoulders hunched and the hurt seeming to roll off her in waves. Santana reached for her hand. Their fingers tangled briefly as Quinn met Santana's eyes over her shoulder. Santana's gaze implored Quinn to understand, to know why she couldn't do this before letting go of Quinn's hand as her sister walked away.
Santana felt the frustration bubbling up in her chest again, anger burning in her chest as she watched Quinn walk away. Anger at herself for not being what any of her siblings needed at this moment. She stalked across the hallway slamming the open palm of her hand into the wall. The pain that jolted up her arm at the force gave her something to focus on before she twisted to sit on the floor of the hallway. She pulled her knees to her chest, propping her elbows on them as she ran her hands through her hair in frustration.
"Santana," Emma said, crouching beside Santana's crumpled form in the hallway.
"What are you doing out here?" Santana growled, her gaze trained on the floor, "You're supposed to be with them. They need you. They need someone with them."
"You need someone too," Emma observed softly.
Santana scoffed and sighed, allowing her head to drift back to the wall as she screwed her eyes shut against the tears that were rapidly filling them. She wanted to tell Emma she was wrong and that she didn't need anyone but that would be a lie because she did need someone. She needed her mom. She needed her mom and she hated it. She felt like she was five years old and had just woken up from a nightmare and every fiber of her being was crying out for her mom. But this wasn't a nightmare. This was her reality now. She wanted her mom and her mom was gone. She wanted her mom or a fucking time machine so she could go back to before and stop all of this. Emma was wrong. Santana didn't just need someone, she needed her mom.
"I-I couldn't do it," Santana whispered when the silence became too much for her to take and Emma didn't seem to show any signs of leaving, "I couldn't tell them that Mom is dead…"
Her voice trailed off as she bit down on the inside of her cheek hard to keep from confessing the part that she hadn't spoken out loud since the moments with Noah on the side of her house when nothing felt real. But everything felt too real now. Their mom was dead and it was her fault. Their mom was dead and Santana couldn't stop seeing her still and lifeless on the floor of the living room, couldn't stop feeling the sticky blood that had coated her hands or the way she didn't feel the steady thump of her mom's heartbeat as she pressed her hands to her mom's ribcage.
"Santana, that's not….it's not your responsibility to tell them that," Emma assured her crestfallen niece, placing a hand on Santana's knee as she watched a tear skate down the surface of Santana's cheek, her dark eyes turning to Emma and boring into her, "It's okay that you couldn't."
Santana choked out a sob, swallowing heavily against the tears that coated her throat. "It's really not. I'm…I'm their big sister….I'm supposed to take care of them but I…I couldn't….I couldn't even…"
Santana let out a growl of frustration as the tears built in her throat and choked off her words before spilling down her cheeks. She swiped at her cheeks in an attempt to get the tears to stop falling and brushed Emma's hand off of her knee. She ignored the sharp gasp Emma released as she fought to stay upright. Everything inside her mind felt too chaotic and she didn't even know exactly what it was that she was referring to when she said she couldn't. She didn't know if it was that she couldn't tell her little brother and sister that their mom was dead or if it was that she hadn't been able to save her.
"They'll understand, Santana. They'll understand that you couldn't tell them."
Santana shook her head as she slumped forward, resting her forehead on her knees as she drew in a deep breath. She knew they would understand that but they wouldn't understand why she left them again.
"Can you…can you go, please?" Santana asked, her voice thick with still unshed tears and muffled by the fabric of her sweatpants.
She couldn't do this with Emma. She didn't want to have this conversation anymore. Emma was being too nice and too understanding and Santana was just trying to patch back together the tattered pieces of herself that were scattered all over the floor of the hospital. Emma shouldn't be here. She needed Emma to be with Blaine and Rachel and Santana needed to remember how to breathe. She needed to breathe and just be and shove everything back down and she couldn't do that with Emma hovering next to her.
She heard a soft sigh above her and the squeak of shoes on linoleum and knew Emma had stood up. Santana froze when she felt a soft touch on the top of her head and the ghosting of fingers through her hair. She exhaled a shaky breath at the loss of contact. She heard the soft squeak of Emma's shoes retreating next before being drowned out by the chaos of doctors and nurses rushing through the hallway and the sounds of stretchers being pushed past her.
….
Rachel slid her hand across the spot in between her and Blaine that Santana had vacated, interlocking her fingers with her brother's as she watched her older sister flee the room. Her chest felt tight and her stomach churned as the door to the exam room slammed behind Santana. Blaine's palm felt slightly sweaty against her own and she didn't understand. She didn't understand why Santana was running away and leaving them with these strangers or why none of the adults in the room had followed her. Santana had never run away from them before and Rachel had seen the fear in her eyes as she left. It made her chest ache.
She didn't like how Jack and Anna watched her and Blaine. Their gazes made her skin prickle and she felt like an animal in a cage. She thought they were waiting for her to do something but she didn't know what. She didn't know why they were staring at her and why they wouldn't just tell them where their mom was. She barely noticed when Emma slipped from the room.
"Why won't you tell us where our mom is?" Rachel questioned softly, her eyes searching the faces of the adults in front of her and her grip on Blaine's hands tightened, "Did…did something bad happen to her?"
Anna swallowed reflexively before nodding. "Yes, Rachel, something bad happened to her."
Rachel felt her heart lodge itself in her throat as she shuffled closer to Blaine on the cot so she was pressed against him from shoulder to hip, their dangling legs tangling together. "Is she….is she here? Is she in the hospital? Dad….Daddy was hurting her…did an ambulance bring her here too? Can we see her?"
"I'm so sorry. Your mom…she isn't here," Anna explained.
"But-but you just said something bad happened to her," Blaine asserted, his voice high-pitched and bordering on hysterical, "I…I don't understand. Dad hurt her. Hurt people go to the hospital. If she isn't here then where is-"
"Is she dead?" Rachel's voice trembled, interrupting Blaine's words. Her eyes welled with tears as her gaze shifted between Anna and Jack, bile creeping up her throat forcing her to swallow heavily. She could feel Blaine's eyes on the side of her face but she couldn't meet his gaze. Santana's sad and fearful expression as she left the room echoed in her mind and she knew. She just knew that the most terrible thing she could think of had to have happened.
"Yes," Anna confirmed, her eyes sad as she used one hand to cover Blaine and Rachel's joined hands, "Your mom died."
Rachel felt the pressure building in her chest release as she emitted a soft sob. Tears were falling down her cheeks and scalding her skin. She could feel Blaine shaking and trembling beside her and knew he was crying as well. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and cover her ears because she didn't want to hear anymore. She wanted Santana to come back and explain it to her. Their mom couldn't be dead. It wasn't fair.
Their mom had protected them. She had made sure they hid from their dad. She had fought back. They were going on a trip. Their mom had everything packed. She was taking them away. She wasn't supposed to die. She couldn't be gone.
"Are you sure?" Rachel sobbed, wiping at her cheeks with the backs of her hands.
"Yes, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," Anna said and Rachel nodded.
She tucked her chin to her chest as her entire body trembled with tears. She didn't know why the grown-ups kept apologizing. They didn't even know her mom. It wasn't their fault she was gone. They didn't hurt her. Rachel felt soft arms wrap around her shoulders and for a brief second, she thought Santana had returned and was holding her. But the person holding her smelled of vanilla and orange blossoms which was so different from the soft floral scent of her older sister. She knew it must be Emma that was holding her and running her fingers through her hair. She leaned into the embrace as a shudder racked her frame.
"Did Daddy do it? Did he…did he k-k-k…." Blaine stammered, his words trailing off and silenced by his inability to finish the final word in his question.
"He did," Jack stated, seeming to understand what Blaine was asking without the little boy having to finish his thought.
Blaine nodded, wiping tears from his cheek with his free hand as he studied Jack intently. "Is he in jail?"
"Not…not exactly," Jack explained, "He-"
"But-but he did something bad," Blaine interrupted, his face creased with confusion and he didn't miss the look that Jack and Anna exchanged, "Bad people go to jail. He should be in jail."
Blaine's heart raced in his chest as fear froze his body in place. His dad had to go to jail. He was the reason their mom was dead. If he wasn't in jail, then he could be here. He could find them. He could hurt them too. What if he was here now?
"Blaine, your dad isn't in jail because he died too," Anna explained to the young boy, stemming the panic that she could sense washing over him.
"W-w-what? H-how?" Blaine sputtered, his lips parted slightly in surprise as he searched Anna's face.
Rachel pulled away from Emma violently as Anna's statement about their dad hit her like a shock of icy cold water. Rachel's tears had stopped falling down her cheeks almost as if they were as shocked as she was. Rachel didn't understand how her dad was dead too. Her dad was always the one that hurt them and no matter how hard they fought, no one had ever hurt him back.
Rachel swallowed back her tears, glancing at Blaine beside her quickly before she asked, "Did my mom hurt him?"
Anna shook her head, before answering carefully, "He hurt himself."
Blaine squeezed his eyes shut as he chewed on his lower lip. He felt like he was trying to solve a puzzle and he was missing the final piece. He forced his memories of earlier to the surface as he searched through them. He remembered his mom's screams and then silence that seemed to stretch on forever and almost had him believing that the worst was over. The final piece slid into the puzzle when he remembered the bang he heard. He thought it had been a firework but it came from inside their house. People didn't light fireworks inside houses.
Blaine's eyes flew open, his gaze was heavy and weighted as his eyes bored into Anna, "The bang…it wasn't a firework…I thought it was a firecracker but it wasn't," Anna shook her head sadly, and he could feel Rachel's fingers gripping his even tighter, her nails cutting into his skin, "Was it a….was it a gun?"
He didn't know why he asked that. Blaine didn't even know if his dad had a gun. He had never seen it if his dad did have one. But the more he thought of the bang, the more it reminded him of the movies his big brother watched where the good guys chased the bad guys with the guns and they were shooting at each other. The bang sounded just like that.
Anna sighed. "Yes, he used a gun to hurt himself."
Blaine felt something heavy in his stomach and he felt like he was gonna throw up again. He hugged himself tightly as he bent over, pressing his face against his knees. He felt a cold sweat break out over the surface of his skin as he squeezed his eyes shut against the memories of that night that wouldn't stop playing behind his eyes. He couldn't stop hearing the sound of the gun over and over in his head or silence the sound of his mom's screams. He kept seeing Santana covered in blood when she found him.
He didn't want to remember any of it. But he didn't think he would ever be able to forget. He wanted it all to go away. He wanted his mom back. He wished he had been bigger so he could've protected her and they could've gone on the trip his mom had planned. His chest hurt every time he thought about never seeing his mom again. The tears started to fall down his cheeks, soaking through the knees of his sweatpants and dampening his skin. He started sobbing as the pressure that had been building in his chest since the moment they told him his mom was dead was finally released. He felt a hand rubbing his back, and the comforting touch made him cry harder.
"Why…why did he do that?" Rachel questioned, her voice soft and her eyes trained on the sobbing form of her brother, watching as Emma rubbed his back but it wasn't working. She bit her lip as she forced the tears that were welling in her eyes back down. She wanted to cry too but she needed to know. She needed to know why her dad would hurt himself.
"I don't know, sweetheart. I think the only person who would know that is your dad."
Rachel drew in a shaky breath as she folded her hands in her lap, studying her fingers intently. "But I-I can't ask him," she whispered as she lifted her gaze from her hands to meet Anna's soft blue eyes, "Was he sad cause he hurt Mommy? Do you think he was sorry?"
"Rachel," Emma said and the little girl's gaze drifted to her, "No one can tell you what your dad was thinking or why he did what he did….but…I think that maybe he was a little sad and a little sorry, too."
Rachel nodded but she thought maybe her new aunt was lying. Her dad had hurt all of them a lot and he had never been sad or sorry all of the other times. She could only remember him ever being sorry one time. She had been smaller than she was now and he had slapped her. She didn't remember what she had done wrong but she remembered him being sorry. She remembered him holding her close as she cried and shuddered in his arms as he whispered apologies into her hair. He never apologized again. She thought her aunt was wrong but was just trying to make her feel better. She didn't think her dad was sorry but maybe he was scared.
Rachel glanced away from Emma when the door to the exam room opened and Santana was standing there again. Santana looked as sad as Rachel felt and Rachel just wanted her big sister to hold her. She lifted her arms slightly from her lap, reaching towards Santana like a toddler asking to be picked up. Santana seemed to understand the gesture, rushing forward and pulling Rachel into her arms. Santana held Rachel as tight as she could and Rachel could feel her big sister trembling against her. Rachel felt her heart break a little more at how sad her strong big sister seemed and all the tears that Rachel hadn't cried yet came falling down her cheeks, cascading like a waterfall as her body shook with the sobs she could no longer contain.
"Mommy's dead, Sanny," Rachel wailed, her face buried in Santana's chest as Santana ran her fingers through her hair, "She-she d-died."
Rachel heard Santana's breath hitch in her chest before she emitted a soft sigh, "I-I know."
"Mom died," Rachel repeated a second time, her breath hiccuping in her chest. She didn't know why she couldn't stop repeating the same thing over and over again. But it seemed fake. Her voice didn't sound like her own and the words she spoke seemed like they were coming from somewhere else like she was listening to someone else. She felt like she was watching a movie and it was someone else's mom that died or she was in a nightmare and at some point she would pinch herself and wake up.
"I know, Rachel. I know," Santana repeated, but her voice sounded different. It was deeper and rough, not like her usual voice. She sounded angry and kind of sad, but maybe not. Maybe she just wanted Rachel to stop repeating herself, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Rachel nodded, another sob wracking her frame. She whimpered at the loss of contact as her older sister moved onto the cot. Santana squeezed herself between Blaine and Rachel, creating a space where she could pull Rachel into her arms again. She rocked Rachel gently, offering her comfort as Rachel cried.
As Rachel cried, she started to understand why everyone kept apologizing. She thought maybe they weren't apologizing because they had done something wrong but because something terrible had happened. Rachel thought she understood that because she was sorry too. She was sorry about a lot of things. She was sorry her mom had died. She was sorry she wasn't bigger and stronger and that she couldn't be the one to protect her mom from her dad. She wished she hadn't made her dad so mad that night. If she hadn't made him mad maybe he wouldn't have hurt their mom.
She wanted to tell her mom all of these things but she couldn't. Her mom was gone. It was confusing and she didn't really understand how her mom could be planning a trip one minute and gone the next. Her mom and dad were gone and they were all alone. It wasn't fair. She didn't want to be all alone. She didn't want to not have parents anymore even if her dad had been mean or her mom had been sad. She felt panic creep into her belly as the realization that they were alone washed over her.
She pulled back from Santana slightly, looking up at her big sister with big, tear-filled eyes. "What happens now, Sanny? Who's gonna take care of us now?"
"Me," Santana reassured Rachel, pressing a kiss to the top of Rachel's head, "and Emma. Someone will always take care of you, okay? You and Blaine will always be taken care of."
Rachel nodded as she buried her head in Santana's chest again. Peering over Rachel's bowed head, Santana observed Emma. Tears streamed down Emma's cheeks as she held onto Blaine, gently rocking him and making comforting shushing sounds. Blaine had buried his face in Emma's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, trembling with sobs.
Santana didn't feel the familiar anger bubbling up inside of her as she watched her aunt try to comfort her baby brother. She was pretty sure the fury would return but right now she was just grateful. She was so far over her head that she could barely breathe. She hadn't expected much when she called Emma that night. She hadn't expected anything but her aunt was trying. She had forgotten how Emma had never been there when they had needed her before but there would be time for those old feelings of abandonment to resurface. But right now Emma was trying and Blaine and Rachel needed someone. Maybe that could be enough for now and they could worry about the pain and the anger and the resentment later.
…
Quinn didn't know how long she had been kneeling on the floor of the darkened chapel. Her knees and back had started to ache long ago and her forehead throbbed where she had it pressed tightly against the hard wooden pew in front of her but she still didn't move. Her throat felt dry and her voice felt hoarse but she continued to whisper the same benedictions and appeals without ceasing. She couldn't stop. She felt hollow and empty but also raw like an exposed nerve and she just wanted it to stop. She needed to try to make it all go away. So, she had sought solace in the silence of the only place she had ever felt peace, but it still wasn't enough. She didn't know if anything would ever be enough again or if she would always feel like this. She wondered if she would always feel like her chest was caving in and like her bones and organs no longer fit comfortably inside her skin. She wondered if she would always feel the sucking emptiness of loneliness and the yearning for comfort so acutely.
Being alone had never been something Quinn minded. She found she was always most comfortable in the quiet moments she spent alone, away from Santana's hovering, the twins' clinging, or Hiram's need to control everything. But tonight being alone felt lonely and empty. The clarity she had always found in solitude had vanished and caused an aching in her bones and deep in her chest that was uncomfortable and unfamiliar.
She had suffered alone through the exam she didn't need, shivering in the thin hospital gown and aching for someone to hold her hand. She had ached for someone, anyone to help her forget as every question she was asked took her back to the foyer of their living rooms, flashes of her mom's broken body and Hiram's fallen form, rushing through her mind like snapshots and still frames in a horror movie. She wandered the hall of the emergency room when they were done, feeling seasick and bruised and battered as if her entire world had tilted on its axis and she was just barely able to keep herself on the surface. Santana was there like a port in a storm. Santana was there but her older sister was somewhere else too, gasping and shaking like a leaf, distraught and destroyed before she had sent Quinn away.
Santana had held her hand, and Quinn had clung to the comfort she had offered even if it was all too brief. Quinn had felt the first ache of desolation as her sister's fingers left her grasp, her chest empty and hollow. She didn't want to be alone but the thought of returning to the waiting room had made her skin crawl, the idea of waiting again seemed so oppressive and claustrophobic and had her wanting to run as far away as possible. She had stumbled on the chapel by accident but found it to be a safe haven, a beacon in the darkness that had invaded every part of her.
The steady stream of pleas falling from her lips paused when she heard the soft sound of the chapel door opening, her heart stilling in her chest as she heard the soft tread of footfalls on the aisle toward her before stopping beside her. She used her peripheral vision as twin shadows fell over her, letting out a breath when she recognized the familiar forms of Santana and Blaine standing beside her, hand in hand. Blaine wrenched his hand away from Santana. Quinn didn't miss the almost glare he shot at his oldest sister before he was scrambling over the pew behind Quinn. Blaine seemed to ignore Quinn's protests as he settled in on the other side of her mimicking her position. He bowed his head on the pew in front of him and folded his hands in front of him. Quinn didn't miss the sigh Santana released or the way her posture slumped before she slid into the pew at Quinn's back, shifting uncomfortably.
"He's mad at me," Santana whispered, answering a question Quinn hadn't even asked, using her head to gesture in Blaine's direction. Quinn felt Blaine bristle beside her, his body becoming rigid as he shot to his feet.
" 'Cause you didn't listen," Blaine accused, facing Santana, his voice firm but barely above a whisper. Tears filled his eyes and streaked down his cheeks as he continued, "You-you didn't listen. We told you bad things would happen…and…and…mom died and Rachel has to stay in this stupid hospital….why didn't you listen?"
"Blaine," Quinn admonished, taken aback by Blaine's words, "No. It's not…that's not why."
Blaine didn't respond as his tears increased in frequency. He launched himself at Quinn, his body wracked by great, big soul-wrenching sobs. He wound his arms around her neck tightly, choking her as his knees dug into her thighs uncomfortably, his tears soaking her skin in the space where her neck met her shoulder. She wanted to tell him he was wrong and wipe away the quiet devastation she saw in her sister's eyes at his words but the sound of his grief was echoing in the small chapel, silencing her words.
He was so little and she knew he didn't understand. His weight felt solid and warm in her arms and despite his tears and sorrow, it was working to chase away the lonely emptiness that had settled in her chest. She ran her fingers through his tousled curls and whispered the same prayers into his ears that she had been repeating all night to herself. Quinn wanted to remove the grief and sorrow from her little brother and tuck it under her breastbone but she settled for holding him, her own tears filling her eyes as she rocked him.
Santana trained her gaze on the flickering candles adorning the altar in the darkened chapel. She couldn't watch Quinn comfort their baby brother without her chest aching and her stomach churning. Each accusation Blaine hurled her way caused her to flinch, his words hitting her skin like a barrage of tiny, stinging papercuts. His mournful final question coupled with the accusations had sliced through her and left her feeling raw and vulnerable. Her eyes welled up with tears as the tiny dancing flames in her vision blurred. It wasn't the first time Blaine had spoken those words to her, but the impact was the same.
Blaine had shouted similar words at her when she had been forced to separate him from Rachel because her little sister was being admitted to the hospital for the night. He had screamed and cried and fought against her. Blaine's anxiety and grief made him obstinate and stubborn in his refusal to leave Rachel's side. He had turned to her, a look of betrayal painted across his face as he shouted at her that she should've listened to them. Blaine's words had hit her like a punch to the gut and she hadn't been able to respond. He had only given a voice to all of the thoughts running through the deepest recesses of her mind, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She found she could do nothing but lift him into her arms even as he fought against her, his grief had awakened something raw and primal and she knew he wanted to be anywhere else than with her.
Quinn held Blaine until her legs went numb. She rocked him and soothed him as his sobs turned to silent tears before giving way to soft sniffles. She held him as his breathing evened out, his limbs growing heavy as his fingers found their way into his mouth once again, and he succumbed to sleep. She managed to guide him to his feet even as he protested sleepily, and clung to her tightly. A small smile graced her face at his sleepy protests as she guided him to lie on the pew as she sat beside Santana. He pillowed his head in her lap as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Quinn studied Santana's profile in the flickering light of the candles and took in the tightness of her jaw and the tears that swam in her eyes as she tried to hide them. "He's upset, San…he didn't…he doesn't understand. He's just upset."
Santana sighed, pressing the pads of her fingers against her eyes wiping away the tears they contained as she glanced away from Quinn, "He's not wrong."
"San-" Quinn started, reaching for Santana's hand on the pew between them as she intertwined their fingers.
"I'm just so tired, Q," Santana interrupted, her words strangled by a half sob as her body trembled with the force of keeping any further tears from escaping.
Quinn nodded recognizing the exhaustion that softened Santana's features as she struggled to compose herself, focusing her attention on running her fingers through Blaine's tousled curls, observing the frown that was still settled across his lips even in sleep, his brow furrowed.
"Is Rach okay?" Quinn questioned softly.
"She has a concussion. Hiram…he pushed her…and she hit her head," Santana explained. Quinn turned to Santana, her lips parted slightly in surprise, "She'll be okay."
"Are you okay?"
Santana swallowed roughly and shook her head, "No."
"Me either," Quinn murmured.
A heavy silence fell over them once again, cloaking them like a blanket. Soon, the only sound in the chapel was Blaine's soft, slow breathing and Quinn's murmured words as she resumed her prayers. Santana's eyes drifted to the framed painting of Jesus that hung behind the altar as the sound of Quinn's prayers enveloped her, her sister's hand an anchor in hers. She had never found the comfort in church and religion that her younger sister seemed to find. She never seemed to understand.
She remembered being dragged to church on Sunday mornings when she was younger either by her abuela or her nana. She didn't remember much about those Sunday mornings other than the uncomfortable wooden pews and the boredom. She remembered her abuela pinching her when she refused to sit still or her nana swatting at her and Noah when they couldn't stay quiet. Quinn was different though. Even as a little kid, she was always so quiet and so still on those Sunday mornings, following along with everything their nana did. Santana wished that she could find the same peace and solace that Quinn always seemed to find.
Santana used to pray too. She prayed every time Hiram hit her or crawled into her bed under the cover of darkness. She would plead with God or Jesus or whoever for her dad to save her or her mom to finally leave or for Quinn to stay asleep but her pleas had always gone unanswered. She didn't remember when she stopped but she had stopped praying and stopped waiting for her prayers to be answered. Her dad had never swept in to rescue her from hell and her mom had been too drunk or too high or too distant to do anything to save herself or them.
She struggled to understand how Quinn could be praying now. She didn't know what solace or comfort praying to a God that may not exist could bring her younger sister. He hadn't been able to stop their mother from dying or Hiram from destroying everything. She didn't think there was a force powerful enough to pick them up out of the rubble and put them back together again.
"Do you still think He listens to you?" Santana questioned, gesturing with her free hand to the portrait hanging behind the altar. She meant the question to sound more curious than judgmental and snarky but when Quinn's hand tightened around hers, she thought Quinn may have heard the judgment in her words anyway.
Quinn's words died on her lips as she opened her eyes slowly, considering her sister's words carefully. She had never spoken to Santana about the comfort she found in prayer or how it was the only time she felt connected to the grandmother she had loved so fiercely when she was small and had disappeared from her life just as quickly. She never spoke to Santana about any of this because sometimes praying seemed so silly to her too. They lived in the fiery depths of hell most of the time and so many of her prayers had gone unanswered. But sometimes in the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind, she would wish and hope for something to happen to Hiram or her mom so they could finally be free of both of them. She knew it wasn't the same but when she stumbled into the house that night, she thought that maybe that was the prayer that had been answered and it felt wrong. All the hours she had spent with her head bowed in prayer and that was the plea that had been answered.
Quinn drew in a shaky breath before lifting her head, her gaze locked on the altar in front of her. "I…I was asking for forgiveness."
"Forgiveness?"
Quinn drew in a shuddering breath as she let go of Santana's hand. She glanced down at her sleeping brother, wringing her hands together anxiously. "I…I..sometimes I thought about something happening to them. I just wanted…I wanted to be free of them so badly…I wanted us to be free but..I never wanted this."
"Oh, Quinn," Santana breathed out, twisting on the bench so she was facing Quinn on the narrow surface, reaching for her sister's clasped hands and covering them with her own, "That's not…that's not why this happened. Hiram didn't….none of this is because of some thoughts you had. You don't need forgiveness…you get that, right?"
Quinn shrugged, hopelessness in her posture, sniffling as a tear slid down her cheek, " I just…I don't understand why. Why tonight? Why now?"
"She was leaving him," Santana stated, her voice devoid of any emotion, "We were leaving," Quinn turned to Santana, her features twisted with confusion as tears ran down her face, "I told Mom…last night I told her that Hiram was hurting Rach," Santana bit her lip, blinking furiously against the tears that stung the corner of her eyes and blurred her vision, "She…she finally listened. We were finally going to get away from him. She was…she was just too late."
Quinn bowed her head, taking a slow deep breath as her heart fluttered in her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. Santana's words lingered heavy and weighted in the air that surrounded them, settling over Quinn's skin, almost tangible as they wrapped her in their suffocating embrace. A tear dripped off her chin, splashing onto Blaine's cheek, his eyes fluttering slightly at the sensation but he remained asleep. Her eyes drifted closed as flashes of that night played behind her eyelids, details she had hardly noticed at the moment seeming to flood her consciousness. The chaos of the scene unfolded before her like she was still there: clothes were strewn throughout the living room and foyer, duffel bags ripped open and exploding, and a forgotten suitcase at the base of the stairs.
Quinn wished she could go back in time. She wished for the moments right before Santana confessed how close they were to finally being free of Hiram and now her mom was just gone. She didn't know how she was supposed to feel about any of this. She wanted someone to explain to her how she was supposed to feel when her prayers had been half-answered and everything had gone terribly wrong. She could feel the panic starting in her belly and prickling across her skin as the memories kept playing behind her closed eyes. She knew what came next and she didn't want to be there anymore. She didn't want to keep going back there but she felt like she never left.
Her eyes flew open as the haunting images of her mom's broken and bleeding form filled her mind. Her mom didn't even look like herself, her skin looked like wax and the blood on her skin was almost black standing out in stark relief to her pallor. She hadn't even looked real. She looked like a mannequin in the middle of a haunted house and not like a person at all. She let out an involuntary whimper as her stomach churned and her breathing picked up. She reached for Santana's hand again, gripping it tightly in her own. She needed something solid, something here to hold onto, to anchor her and pull her out of her memories.
Santana winced as Quinn's nails dug into the palm of her hand, concern marring her features as she watched the color drain from Quinn's face, her eyes open yet somewhere else, "Quinn?"
"I…I can't.." Quinn started, her words trailing off as she licked her lips and swallowed reflexively before she continued, "I can't stop seeing them. I can't stop seeing all the blood…I can't stop seeing her just laying there…she didn't even look real. I just want it to stop."
"I know," Santana murmured in assent, swiping her thumb over the back of Quinn's hands, trying to comfort her, "You weren't…you weren't supposed to be there, Q. You were supposed to stay with Brittany. You weren't supposed to be there-"
"But you were there. You were there and you were all alone," Quinn rasped, the tears clogging her throat giving her voice a husky quality.
Quinn's words pierced Santana like an arrow to the chest, causing her heart to freeze in her chest and her breath to escape her lungs. Her little sister had come back for her. Quinn had only witnessed the horror that waited for her in the living room because she was worried about Santana. Santana felt the guilt of that knowledge strangling her, choking her, and making it hard to breathe. Her siblings had only bore witness to the destruction of their family because of her. Blaine and Rachel were in the house because Santana had to send that fucking text message and Quinn had only come back to try to save Santana. She had ruined everything. She ruined them. Quinn shouldn't be burdened by the memories of their mom's dead body, Blaine shouldn't have had to hear their mother beg for her life and Rachel shouldn't have a concussion as one last parting gift from the father that had abused her. Santana was supposed to be the one to carry those memories. She was the only one who knew how to shoulder all their secrets.
"Quinn-" Santana began.
"I wanna forget, San," Quinn blurted, cutting Santana off, turning toward her older sister, a borderline hysterical edge to her voice as she clutched at both of Santana's hands, "I just wanna forget. I want Him to make me forget."
Quinn's body heaved with the sobs she was holding back as she trembled, tears streaking down her cheeks. Santana pulled Quinn into her arms, the angle awkward with Blaine sleeping on Quinn's lap. Quinn clutched at Santana's shirt as she buried her face near Santana's collarbone, choking and gasping on the sobs that she could no longer contain.
"I know," Santana soothed as she held Quinn tightly against her, "Me-me too...I didn't want you to see that...I'm so sorry."
Santana hadn't known what she was protecting Quinn from when she sent Quinn to Brittany's early that evening. She knew it was going to be bad but she hadn't known how bad. She knew nothing she said was going to erase those images from her sister's mind and all she could do was apologize.
Quinn nodded against Santana's collarbone but her tears didn't slow, if anything they picked up in frequency and became near wails. Quinn sought refuge in Santana's embrace. She clung to her sister desperately, needing her older sister to anchor her, and chase away the empty, lonely feeling that had haunted her all night. She felt like the loneliness had been suffocating her as she drowned in her memories and clinging to Santana she felt like she could finally breathe. She and Santana didn't do this but her soul had been aching for her sister's embrace, for someone to comfort her and fill the void that had opened in her chest.
Her body convulsed with the sobs that she released. She must've woken Blaine because she felt small arms wrap around her waist tightly. She could feel his small fingers digging into her stomach as he clung to her desperately as if he too was trying to physically hold her together and keep her from shattering further. She felt Blaine's body trembling where he was pressed against her side, his small frame emanating warmth as he murmured words of comfort into the fabric of her shirt. She hadn't even realized how unnaturally cold she felt all night until Blaine's warmth worked under her skin, warming her from the inside out as Santana's fingers running through her hair, grounded her.
Quinn stayed sandwiched between Blaine and Santana as her tears slowed and her sobs became little more than hiccups. Her body stiffened when she heard the creaking of the chapel door, pulling away from Santana and scrubbing the tears from her cheeks. Santana glanced at her in confusion as they heard slow footsteps make their way toward them.
"Girls, we need to speak about arrangements for tonight," Emma told them as she came to stand at the end of the pew, her hands folded in front of her and resting on the back of the pew.
"Yeah, okay. We'll be right there," Santana told her aunt, angling her body to block Quinn from Emma's view as her sister struggled to compose herself. Emma nodded before turning to leave the chapel. Santana listened to her footsteps grow further away before she turned back to Quinn, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and squeezing her lightly, "We should go."
Quinn nodded, leaning into Santana briefly as she continued to wipe at the tears on her cheek, biting her lip as she composed herself. Santana pulled her arm from around Quinn as she stood, reaching down to help Quinn to her feet. Quinn took Santana's hand, grateful for the solidness of her sister's hand in hers as her knees wobbled dangerously and her head spun once she was on her feet. She took a deep breath as she gripped Santana's hand and the pew in front of her until her head stopped spinning and her legs felt like they could support her weight.
Quinn glanced back at the pew when she realized her little brother hadn't moved from the bench. She observed him, his eyes trained on the ground as he swung his legs beneath him his toes brushing the carpet. He was gripping the bench tightly as his entire body trembled. Quinn ran her hand over his curls, drawing his attention from his swinging legs to her.
She held her hand out for him to take, "C'mon, Blaine. We've gotta figure out where we're sleeping tonight."
Blaine nodded, grabbing Quinn's hand as she pulled him to his feet. He gripped Quinn's hand tightly as she led him back to the waiting room, following closely behind Santana. Santana didn't look at him and he wondered if she was still mad at him for yelling at her. He wasn't mad at her not really. He was scared and worried and a bunch of other things that he didn't understand. He felt too full and everything had just come exploding out of him. He didn't mean to make Santana feel bad.
"Kids, we need to discuss arrangements for tonight," Anna announced as soon as the remaining siblings entered the waiting room, "Rachel's going to need to stay here for observation tonight and Emma's going to stay with her so-"
"Then I'm staying too," Santana blurted out, "If Emma is staying with Rachel then so am I."
Anna sighed, her gaze settling on Santana, "Santana, that's not…you can't just stay here tonight."
"I'm staying. I'll stay in the waiting room but if Rachel is staying here, so am I. You can't make me leave," Santana challenged glowering at the woman in front of her, one eyebrow raised.
She couldn't leave Rachel here alone with Emma. The thought of her little sister staying in the hospital by herself made Santana's heart race. Rachel didn't know Emma. She had only been a baby when Emma stopped coming around and even if she was trying to pretend otherwise, Emma was a stranger to Rachel. She couldn't leave her baby sister with strangers.
"Santana, I'm sure we can arrange for you to stay here tonight," Emma assured, glancing over at Anna for confirmation. Emma watched as the other woman's shoulders slumped before she nodded.
"I'm staying with Finn tonight," Noah stated, his features hardened almost as if he was daring someone to argue with him.
"What-what about us?" Quinn questioned softly, her eyes darting between her older siblings and her aunt as she clutched Blaine tighter to her chest. Her eyes landed on her older sister, almost as if imploring Santana to remember that it wasn't just Rachel that needed her but that she and Blaine needed their older sister too.
"They can stay at our house with Will for tonight," Emma explained.
"No!" Santana shouted, jumping to her feet, standing in front of Quinn and Blaine, blocking them from Emma's view, "They aren't going home with him."
Santana knew Mr. Schuester. She saw him every day at school but she didn't really know him. She didn't even know that he and Emma were living together. They couldn't just expect that Santana would be okay with Quinn and Blaine just staying with him. He was a stranger to them. They probably expected that just because he was a teacher, she could trust him but Hiram had been a doctor and he was terrible, just because someone seemed nice didn't always mean they were. She couldn't take the chance that someone else would hurt them when she wasn't there. She couldn't let them just go with him.
"Santana," Emma gasped, taken aback by Santana's vehement objections, "You…you know Will..Mr. Schuester. They'll be safe with him for tonight."
"I don't care if I know him. They aren't going with him. They can stay here or…or…I don't know. Just figure something else out," Santana spat, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Why don't they stay with me for the night?" Mrs. Pierce offered. She approached Santana slowly, placing her arms on the girl's shoulders, "Would that be okay with you, Santana?"
Santana nodded, "Yeah, okay."
Blaine frowned deeply as he listened to the adults and Santana discuss where he and Quinn were going to stay for the night. Santana was mad again and she was yelling at their aunt and he thought she may have forgotten they were sitting right there. They should be asking them where they wanted to stay for the night. He didn't want to stay at Brittany's house. They were at Brittany's house when their dad found them. He didn't want to go back there. He didn't want to be separated from Noah and Santana. Anna had said that wouldn't happen. She had promised that they would all go home with their aunt for the night. She lied just like grownups always did.
Santana glanced down when she felt Blaine tug on her hand. "I don't want to go to Brittany's," he whispered, his eyes wide and wet as he looked up at her.
Santana sighed, kneeling in front of him and holding his gaze. "It's just for one night, bud and you'll be with Quinn," she assured him, reaching out to tap the tip of his nose, "I know she's your favorite."
"But I wanna stay with you…and-and Rachel," Blaine murmured, "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'll be really good. I wanna stay."
"I know you do but you can't stay at the hospital. It will be really boring and if you stay here, who's gonna stay with Quinn? She'd be all by herself."
"She could stay here too. Please, San. Please let me stay, I'll be real good, I promise." Blaine begged, his lower lip quivering as his eyes welled with tears. Santana shot Quinn a helpless look, silently pleading with her for assistance. Quinn just shrugged, seeming to ignore Santana's silent plea. Santana could tell that she was upset with her.
"You can't, okay? It wouldn't be fair for Quinn to have to be all by herself. Can I tell you a secret?" Santana questioned, gesturing for Blaine to lean closer so she could whisper in his ear. He followed her directions and leaned forward as Santana cupped one hand around his ear, her voice dropping to a barely there whisper, "Quinn is really sad and she needs you to take care of her tonight. Do you think you can do that?"
"Fine," Blaine muttered and Santana stood, squeezing his knee softly. He was pretty sure Santana was just making up a reason for him to stay with Quinn and go to Brittany's house. But Quinn had been crying and he never saw her cry so maybe Santana was telling the truth a little too. He still didn't like that they were being separated or that Rachel had to stay in the hospital. He didn't think it was fair that Santana still got to make all the decisions.
Quinn shifted Blaine off of her lap so they could stand, taking his hand as she allowed Santana to embrace her quickly. She shivered as Santana whispered in her ear to take care of Blaine and that she would see them both in the morning. Quinn just nodded a lump in her throat at the thought of leaving both Santana and Rachel in the hospital as she followed Mrs. Pierce and Brittany out of the hospital.
"Santana," Noah said, standing in front of his sister as she watched Blaine and Quinn leave the emergency room. Santana turned to him, a glare set across her features.
"Don't," Santana murmured, holding up one hand to stop whatever it was Noah wanted to say before he started, "I'm tired, Noah. I don't…I don't want to do this. Not tonight."
"Fine," Noah sighed, wrapping one arm around her shoulder and pulling her into him, resting his head on hers, "Just tell the midget I hope she feels better."
Santana smiled softly, nodding as he pulled away from her before leaving the emergency room. She was so used to watching Noah walk away from them that she found she felt nothing as she watched him retreat. The anger she had felt at him earlier was gone and she was just tired. She turned back to Emma and Anna, waiting expectantly for one of them to take her to her baby sister.
*Please review. Loved it or hated it let me know. Thanks for all the reviews and follows*