This one was just as hard to write as the last and again, I don't think it's right, but I think it does what it needs to.

Chapter 17: Big Talks

A marred silence fell over the room after Rachel's confession. It took a moment for even Rachel to register that she said it. Once she did, she ran out of there and back into the solace of her temporary bedroom to cry and wallow in peace.

She meant what she said. Her life as she knew it was over. She didn't feel like she could go back to school or even feel safe in New York right now. Sharing her shame and embarrassment unburdened her, but also made her feel worse somehow.

It was all just a lot.

She hated that they were there. She hated that any of this was happening. She hated that she felt the way she did and that, now, she put Santana in jeopardy too…. She hated it all. She was really trying to hold it together. She didn't want to lash out like she wanted when they first showed up…

She wanted to get away and they were invading her safe space. But she couldn't reverse time. If she could, the last few minutes wouldn't be the only ones she erased.

Rachel found herself in the ensuite, head over the toilet bowl, choking up the little she ate that day. Saying the words made her physically sick. The hyperventilating didn't help matters either.

The group followed closely behind Rachel, jumping into gear as soon as she took off. They heard a thrashing of objects coming from the room as they worriedly approached.

Shelby put a hand up to stop everyone.

"We can't all go in there. She'll freak out. I've got this."

"Oh hell no…"

"Santana. Please. You want to protect her and avenge her. I can see that on your face, and I understand it. I feel it too. But going in there angry won't help her."

Kurt took Santana's hand as if to agree with Shelby. Maggie wanted to rush in there, but this was something her daughter needed to handle.

"Rachel needs more than we know how to give her right now. If Shelby upsets her more, I'll be the first to cheer you on and let you loose, but let's give Shelby a shot."

"Fine," Santana huffed. "But I'm not leaving this spot. I'm watching you."

Shelby nodded her thanks and slipped into the room. She could hear Rachel getting sick in the bathroom, immediately rushing to her side to hold back her hair.

"I got you. I got you. You're ok."

"No I'm not. No I'm not," she muttered between dry heaves.

She had nothing in her to vomit, but the urge persisted.

"Go away," Rachel cried, trying to pull away.

She didn't want to be touched. She didn't want to look anyone in the eye. She just wanted to be left alone with her misery.

"I'm not going anywhere," Shelby comfortingly told her. "Deep breath Rachel. You got this. Just like that," Shelby encouraged.

Rachel was struggling with everything, even catching her breath now. Her face was red, eyes wet and puffy. Her head never moved from right above the bowl.

"I know you're not feeling great, Rachel, but you need to regulate your breathing or you're going to get sick again. Deep breaths."

"I can't."

"I've never known you to be a quitter. Don't quit now. Just give it a try. It's as simple as in and out. You got this."

Through strained breaths and still unable to look at Shelby, Rachel asked, "Why are you here? Why did any of you come here? Why couldn't you all just let me have space?"

"Because we care, Rachel, and we were worried. No one knew where you were, and you shouldn't be alone after all you went through."

"I didn't want anyone to know," she said, barely audibly after a few moments of just taking a few deep breaths.

Rachel leaned against the wall in the bathroom, sitting against the cool tile. Shelby took the opportunity to move a little closer, but not too close, sitting beside her daughter. Shelby was hesitant to make any big movements. She didn't want to spook Rachel who was already on edge. The last thing they needed was for her to have another panic attack and make herself sick again.

"I know, sweetie, but I'm glad we know. Now we can help you."

"Help me?" she said almost angrily. "How can you help me? Can you erase the last few months of my life? Can you make it so it never happened… So I don't feel so… disgusting and dirty all the time no matter how much I scrub or wash or bleed… I'm always so disgusting."

"No… Rachel, you're not."

"Yes I am," she yelled, "You don't get it. You don't know."

"You're right. So tell me. Tell me what you're feeling."

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"Because why," Shelby pushed.

"Because it's my fault! It's my fault…" Her voice quieted and, again, she realized she said that aloud. "It's my fault."

Rachel pulled her knees up against her chest, resting her head on her knees as she curled inside herself and cried.

"No, Rachel. It's not your fault."

"Yes it is."

"No." Her words were forceful. She needed Rachel to hear her.

"Look at me, Rachel," she said, gently nudging to face her. "Someone hurt you. That's not your fault. That's his. He did this. Not you. You have nothing, and I mean nothing to be ashamed about."

"Yes I do…"

"Honey, no…"

"I ignored everything," she yelled. The sadness and shame had turned to anger. "I did this!"

"Rachel…"

"Don't tell me I didn't. You don't know. You don't know anything about me or the situation, Shelby. So just don't."

"Alright… You're angry and hurting, Rachel. I get that, but I want to help. What can I do?"

"Leave me alone. I just want everyone to leave me alone."

"We can't do that. We can't help you if we leave you alone. Frankly, now that I know this, I'm more worried than ever."

"Don't be. Just leave me alone."

Rachel was up and pacing now. She was making Shelby dizzy from just watching her.

"Slow down, kid. You're walking yourself in circles, literally. Come sit with me. Maybe get out of the bathroom."

Rachel said nothing, but allowed Shelby to guide her to sit on the edge of the bed.

Taking a deep breath, Shelby started, "Rachel, I know this is an uncomfortable conversation, and if you don't want to tell me anything, you don't have to, but you have to talk to someone. Are you talking to your therapist about this? Maybe we can set up a call with her."

"No. I don't want to talk. I want to forget anything ever happened."

"It doesn't seem like you can though, can you? It's on your mind all the time, even when you try to numb the pain… Even when you drink to forget."

"I haven't been drinking," Rachel swore.

"But that only made you think about it more, hasn't it?"

She shrugged. She wasn't exactly calm, but it was like all the adrenaline she had was once again fading. She was just tired… Of everything, of feeling, of living…

"Ok… Let's start with something else. Have you seen a doctor? Are you ok… physically?"

"I…"

At this point, there was a gentle knock at the door. Santana couldn't stay away any longer. She sent Maggie and Kurt away, but she needed to be part of the conversation.

"Can I come in?" she asked, sticking her head in the doorway.

"You would even if I said no…"

Rachel was defeated. She wanted to crawl up in a ball and disappear. She wanted to yell at them for showing up, but what was the point? What was the point of anything? She just… Resigned herself to take the hits.

"I'm sorry…"

"I don't want you to be sorry, Santana. I want you to pretend you never heard anything. I didn't want anyone to know."

"But… Why?"

"It's embarrassing! And it's all my fault, Santana. Why don't you get that?"

"Rachel, it's not your fault."

"Ugh," Rachel groaned, laying back on the bed and wrapping herself up in the duvet.

Santana and Shelby shared a look before Shelby said, "Rachel, you never answered my question. Did he… Did he use a condom? Were you checked out by a doctor?"

"I don't want to talk about this."

"That day we went to the clinic… She was checked out," Santana answered.

"Was she ok?"

"She wasn't eating well and had anemia again… It was messing with her periods."

"Santana! Stop talking about me like I'm not here. And stop telling people my business!"

"It's not like you're talking. Someone needs to."

"I was fine. I am fine. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Rachel, I think we need to."

Huffing, she sat up and leaned against the headboard, blanket squeezed tightly in her grasp.

"I'm fine," she repeated. "There was some lingering trauma that was infected. I'm not pregnant, no STDs, the first HIV test was negative, but I have to go back in a few more months to get tested again. Now, can we please, please, please stop talking about this."

Shelby sighed. She only wanted to be there for her daughter. Despite Rachel appearing calm and participating in the conversation, she could see the wall up in front of her. It almost made her glad Santana was there to push Rachel's buttons and be the bad guy.

"What happened, Rachel?" Santana got the nerve to ask. "It was the night of the showcase… Was it…"

"Stop! Don't ask what you're about to ask. I won't tell you."

"Why not?"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I can't and I already said I won't, so stop."

The fire in Rachel's eyes made her back down about that for now. They would work their way back there soon enough.

"Alright, Rachel, we won't ask about that, but how about you tell us what we can do? Did you go to the police?"

"No…"

"Why not?"

"I already told you it was my fault. Who would believe me?"

"We believe you," Shelby made clear. "We believe you, and we know it wasn't your fault. A monster hurt you, Rachel. You're the victim… No, survivor."

"I'm disgusting."

"I wish you would stop saying that."

"It's how I feel. And now everyone is going to know how damaged I am. And I can't go back to school. My life is over now. I can't show my face in New York, so my dream is gone. What am I going to do?"

"Rachel…"

"Don't you dare lie to me. Not now," Rachel hissed. "My entire school has seen me naked. And if that isn't mortifying enough, they've seen me on the worst night of my life. I feel empty and broken and disgusting. How can I look anyone in the face? I can't even look at myself in the mirror. You know… I didn't even know he took that photo or any of the photos."

"There are others?"

"I guess, yeah."

"This is the same guy that's been harassing you?"

Rachel didn't respond, but the look she gave said all they needed to know. She wasn't going to speak more on that. They didn't need to know.

"Rachel… What happened? That night… What happened?" Santana broached it carefully. "You said you slept with someone but you barely remembered it… What really happened the rest of that night?"

Rachel turned her head away from them. Her lip was quivering. She wasn't sure she could recount the day. She had tried everything both to remember what she couldn't and forget what she could.

"I was tipsy and happy… It was such a good day," she explained. And it was an amazing day after a hard few months… until it wasn't.

"You were there… We were celebrating…"

"But what happened after we left?"

"I… It's all a blur really. I… I think maybe my drink was spiked. I don't remember drinking as much as it felt like I drank. Everything was kind of unbalanced and it was hard to just talk. He… He kissed me, and I pushed him away. Or I tried. I think I hit him at some point, but it wasn't enough. I tried… I did. I know I did. But I couldn't… And… He… Ugh… How could I be so stupid? How did I let this happen? Idiot. I'm an idiot."

Noticing the far off look in her eyes and the way she just kept repeating things, it was clear they lost her to the memory.

"Hey…" Santana tried. "Rachel, stay with us. You're ok."

"Don't touch me," she screamed, violently smacking Santana's hand off her. "Leave me alone."

Rebuked, Santana quickly told her, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry," Rachel mimicked. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"You don't need to be sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this happened. I'm sorry that we didn't stay with you that night. I thought you'd be ok."

"So did I, Santana. It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either."

"I… I can't talk about this anymore. Can I just… Have some time alone please?"

"Of course. We're all here if you need us, Rachel."

Rachel barely acknowledged their presence anymore, just sat on the bed staring into space. She was still lost in the memory, stuck in that horrible moment, and there was nothing they could do. She asked for space, and they needed to respect that even if they didn't want to.

Neither wanted to leave her and kept looking back at her as they slowly made their way out, but they did what she asked, gently closing the door behind them.

Out of the room, they both sighed. Shelby had been trying to hold it together, but her heart was shattered for her daughter. A flurry of anger and sadness swept through her body all over again, and she couldn't hold back the tears.

"We'll help her through this," Santana comfortingly said, embracing Shelby.

The hug was as much for her as it was Shelby. They needed that comfort from each other.

"She can be annoying as hell, but she's stronger than anyone else and she'll be ok in the end."

"You're a good friend, Santana."

"If I was a good friend, she wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. I should have stayed with her that night. I should have made sure she wasn't alone."

"Hey," Shelby said, gently pushing Santana back, hands on the younger woman's shoulders. "You can't blame yourself. She is an adult, and she can be out on her own. The only person to blame here is the monster that hurt her."

Shelby moved her hand to swipe away the tears on Santana's cheek the same way she wanted to do with Rachel. Her daughter may not have been in a place to accept that physical touch, but Santana was.

"You can't hold on to that guilt, okay? What's done, is done. I wish it didn't happen. I would erase it for her if I could, but we can't… Now we just have to help her, be there for her, and you can't if you get lost in guilt. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah…"

"Alright. Let's pull ourselves together, then go downstairs and see how my parents and Kurt are doing. I'm sure they're worried about her, and Rachel needs a little space."

"I don't want to leave her."

"I know, Santana. You're a good friend to her and I'm sure she appreciates that, but right now, she feels vulnerable and exposed. We need to respect when she asks for space."

"I don't know, did you see her face? It was like she was back there?"

"I know…"

"And we didn't even get to ask about the bruises… He must've been violent, and he's hurt her against since. I…"

"Hey," Kurt interrupted. "You've been up here a while. We wanted to see if you were doing ok?"

"We were just heading down, Kurt. Rachel could use some time alone. Why don't we all head there now?"

"Yeah."

Dejected, Santana pulled away from Shelby and hurriedly brushed passed Kurt.

"How are you doing, Kurt?" Shelby asked as she walked beside him.

"I'm feeling pretty stupid. I wish she told me… But I don't know how I missed it. We all knew something was up, but I never suspected that."

"Why would you, Kurt? She didn't want anyone to know."

"But why? We could help her?"

"She feels it's her fault."

"But it's not!"

"I know that, and you know that, but Rachel doesn't feel that right now. Hopefully in time she will."

"I know she'll be happy to have you to help her too, Shelby, even if she doesn't say it."

"Thanks, Kurt."

The two met up with the rest of the gang in the living room. Santana was off on her own, sitting in the recliner toying with her phone while her parents were cuddled up on the couch.

"Where's Beth?" Shelby asked.

"You were up there quite a while, Shel. It was getting late and a little loud. We had her get ready for bed down here, put her on my office couch with her tablet, and she's been out like a light for the past half hour. I think she could tell you needed to be with Rachel even if she didn't understand it."

It was the first time she looked at the clock. They had been up there with Rachel for a few hours, most of it spent just trying to calm her and get her to open up. They didn't actually learn much beyond how deep the wound went.

"Thank you," Shelby said with a breath.

"How is she?"

"She's a mess. It was hard to get her to say anything. She fluctuated between angry and sad and flat. I guess maybe that's a normal reaction to trauma?"

"The vacant stare she had sure made her seem normal," Santana quipped.

"Santana," Kurt scolded. "Stop."

"Well, Kurt, Shelby's right. Rachel was all over the place and then she was just staring off into nothing. It was… a lot."

"How is she doing, though? Did she say anything more about what happened? Like… who did it?"

"No."

"Why didn't she tell us?"

"Oh Kurt," Maggie said, reading the hurt on his face. "Don't take it personally. It's not an easy thing to talk about, especially when you're trying to pretend everything's alright. She didn't tell you because she couldn't face it."

He sighed, but accepted it. There were a lot of questions asked, but few answers to be shared. Rachel wasn't exactly forthcoming, but they knew that it happened the night of the showcase and she might've been drugged.

"So that picture… it was from that night?"

"Yes," Santana answered, squeezing her phone in her hand until her knuckles whitened. "I don't think it's the only photo he has of her. He sent her some that eluded to more."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a second before Jack whispered angrily, "That bastard."

"Dad," Shelby said, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Jack told the group, "I think that it's getting late, and we should call it a night. We all need to digest this information so we can better help Rachel. Right now, it's too raw and painful. Our initial reactions are about our own feelings, and this isn't about us. It's about Rachel."

"He's right. We can sit here and discuss it more, but it won't change that this happened. We just have to find a way to help her without our own feelings getting in the way."

Room distributions were made, but Santana would not be sharing with Kurt. The group just started to disperse when Shelby reached out to stop Santana.

"Santana, I have to ask… Did she think…" Shelby cleared her throat. "Did she think she might be pregnant? Is that why you took her to the clinic?"

Everyone seemed to still, waiting with baited breath for the answer. Santana hesitated, but stared at Shelby dumbfounded enough that Shelby got the picture.

"But she wasn't, right? Truly?"

"No, she wasn't. She missed her period because of an infection, which I guess we know he caused. I… I think… I… I suspected something wasn't right then. You should have seen the way she was in the exam. It was like she wasn't actually there. It was… Not right."

"I'm glad she at least had you with her to help her through that."

"I wasn't much help."

"Probably more than you know."

There were a few rumblings of goodnight before they all parted ways. Santana lied to Rachel and told her they needed to share the room, though Rachel didn't say much at all really – just laid there stoically.

Truthfully, she didn't want Rachel to be alone nor did she want to be alone. She even offered to sleep on the floor if Rachel needed the space. Rachel told her to just sleep in the bed, but, truthfully, neither could sleep.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Santana finally asked after an hour of staring at the ceiling. "Did you not trust me?"

"It isn't about trust Santana, or even about you. It's about me. I don't want to think about it. I want to pretend it never happened."

"But it did happen, and running from it hasn't helped you at all. You haven't been ok for months and we didn't know why…"

"Now you do, congratulations."

"Rachel…"

"I don't want to talk about it," she insisted.

"Why did you come here?" Santana asked, ignoring her. "Why to Connecticut?"

"Because I thought I would be safe here. I thought I could be… alone without being alone, you know? I figured they would welcome me without asking too many questions. I just wanted quiet… peace… away from everyone and everything that happened."

"That seemed to work out," Santana retorted.

"I didn't think it would be that easy to find me… I wasn't really thinking much at all."

"I figured. I wish…"

She stopped, and Rachel waited a moment to see if she would continue. When she didn't, Rachel asked, "You wish what?"

"I wish that you would have told us."

"I know. But I couldn't."

Santana didn't want to argue. It went against her normal instinct, but she didn't want to fight with Rachel. She didn't want to cause anymore hurt for her friend. Instead, she said nothing. They lapsed back into a quiet.

It wasn't really an uncomfortable quiet, but a heavy one. They both had a lot on their minds. But there was something she couldn't let go. She tried, and she dropped it earlier, but not now.

"Who was it, Rachel?" Santana asked. "You know who it was. It wasn't a stranger. Who was it?"

"I can't tell you. I won't."

"Why are you protecting him?!"

"I'm not protecting him. I'm protecting you!"

Santana looked at her dumbfounded.

"Protecting me? How?"