I know it's been forever. I'm sorry. Truly. Between new work, life, and a couple rounds of illness, time just got away from me. I'm settled into my work now, though and things have been better. My new plan is to try to make the chapters a little shorter and extend it a few chapters in hopes of quicker updates. We'll see how that works. Happy reading.
Chapter 23: The Pain of SilenceMedically, Rachel was cleared to go home. Aside from the memory loss or, potentially and more likely, memory suppression, she had no neurological issues from her injuries. With time and rest, both her head and ribs would heal.
She just needed a comfortable place to settle down and be pampered for a while.
After a long discussion, it was decided that Rachel and Kurt would be staying with Shelby. Maribel was staying in town for a while, so Santana was going to stay with her until they figured out the next step.
Leroy and Hiram paid for a service to come and clean the apartment, but no one was ready to go back there quite yet. Plus, Rachel would need care, and Shelby was willing and able to give it to her to keep the responsibility from falling on Kurt and Santana. Since Rachel was physically ok and the three parents had a plan after a long talk, both Hiram and Leroy thought it best to leave.
Rachel needed to heal, and she couldn't do that with them around dealing with their own issues. As much as they both wanted to stay, they had to trust that Shelby would offer the secure, stable environment that they currently couldn't. They wanted to be there, but what help could they offer when they bickered all the time? It just wouldn't be conducive to what Rachel needed.
Unfortunately, Rachel had regressed a lot. That was partially why she spent three days in the hospital when she otherwise could have gone home after the one night. It was like something snapped and everything she did remember just disappeared… poof…
The doctor and nurse were in with Rachel. Now that she was talking and alert, no longer in shock, they wanted to address any pain she might be feeling and the potential sexual assault. It was easier said than done, but they had found suspicious bruising around her thighs and wrists that were indicative of an assault.
They ran through some cognitive testing to make sure she was ok and then asked her about any pain she was experiencing. Of course, her chest hurt from the rib injury and her throat was a little sore from the attempted strangulation – not to mention the headache from the blow to the head. Damn concussion…
Rachel was feeling every bit of the night, but she blocked out as much of it as she could.
A team of women were in there with Rachel, and the time had come to address the elephant in the room.
"Rachel, we need to ask… Did he rape you?"
"What? Who? What? … No. No."
"Rachel, you can tell us. No one can hurt you now. We just want to make sure we treat you properly. We can give you emergency contraceptive and…"
"I said no. Nothing happened. I'm fine… I'm fine…" she said a little too adamantly.
"Ok Rachel. Deep breaths. Alright? We believe you, but we have to ask so we can give you the best care possible."
Rachel did calm and allowed them to continue their medical assessments and whatnot, but she didn't want to talk about that night. Too bad the work wasn't going to afford her that luxury.
Once she was given the all clear medically, the police came to speak with her. They needed her statement in order to move the case forward and close it. It seemed clear enough from Santana's statement, but they still needed to get hers. They held off until the medical team had a chance to assess her, but they couldn't wait forever.
"Hi Rachel, I'm Officer Landon and this is my partner, Officer Rodrequez. Can we ask you a few questions about what happened?"
Rachel shrugged, shrinking back into the bed and pulling the blanket tight against her body. She didn't want to talk. Things in her head were still… fuzzy. It was like it was all there, but she couldn't access it. Maybe it was more like she locked the door and threw away the key. She wasn't sure. What she was sure of was her desire to pretend nothing happened.
"Can you tell us how Jasper Brawn came to be in your apartment?"
"I… I'm not sure. I… He was just there when I came home."
"Why don't we start from the beginning. What happened when you first came to the apartment?"
"The door was unlocked. Sometimes it's hard to shut, so I thought Santana or Kurt came home early and didn't lock it."
"Were either of them home?"
"No. I called out, but no one answered. I… I went to my room. He was in there."
"Jasper?"
"Yes. He said we needed to talk."
"What did he want to talk about?"
Again, she shied away. She still didn't want to say. She had talked about it as much as she wanted to, but she could feel them staring at her, waiting.
"He… He accused me of telling people he… hurt me."
"Did he hurt you?"
She looked at them with wide, scared eyes.
"Yes," she whispered.
"How did he hurt you?"
"He… He… He raped me."
Naturally, they asked for more details which Rachel was reluctant to give but gave the bare bones of it that she could stand to discuss. They made notes as she talked and moved her back to the other night.
Going through the details was needed, but it made her heartrate spike. Every word felt like another pour of salt on the wound. She froze when she got to the end of the story.
"Are you alright, Rachel?"
"I'm… I'm fine," she unconvincingly said.
"Continue when you're ready. Can you tell us how a knife got involved in the fight?"
Rachel closed her eyes and fought the images in her head of that night.
"He… He knocked me out. I was bleeding and confused, laying on the ground and heard yelling. Santana was in trouble. I… I didn't even think about what I was doing. No one noticed I was awake…"
Her words came out hurried and stuttered, as anxious as if she was still in the moment.
"I was able to get a knife from the kitchen. Everything hurt, but I couldn't let him hurt Santana like he hurt me. I couldn't do that. I… I couldn't."
It was like she was pleading with them to understand.
"I tried to get him to leave. I told him I didn't want to hurt him, to just go, but he wouldn't. He came at me and… I can still feel the knife going into his body… I… He's ok right? You're going to arrest him and everything will be fine?"
"Rachel, Jasper is dead."
"What? I… Because of me? I killed him?"
Not for the first time, she needed to be sedated. It was one thing to know she stabbed someone. It was another to know she murdered someone. Self-defense or not, she had to live with the fact that her actions, her reactions, led to someone's death.
Between the attack, the memories, and knowing she killed him, it was just too much for her to handle. So she stopped. She just stopped. When someone came in her room, she pretended to be asleep. When she couldn't pretend, she just didn't speak. She physically couldn't bring herself to say anything.
They sent in a hospital issued psychologist to do an evaluation when medical tests showed it wasn't a medical issue. Of course, she said nothing to him. In the end, she wasn't a danger to herself or others, and she had her own psychologist, so they released her.
That was how she ended up at Shelby's, no fight about it, lying wide awake in a bed that wasn't hers, just staring at the ceiling. It felt like she hadn't slept in days. Even in the hospital, the only slept she got was when they drugged her, and she woke up feeling like she never rested at all. She didn't even have her phone back from the police yet to mindlessly scroll.
Everything, even daily mundane tasks, felt like such effort. Dr. Freedman did a house call, but it was a waste of time. Her fathers called, but she only sent them a text with a few words back. Her grandparents came to see her. Beth tried to engage. Hell, Kurt was sharing a room with her sleeping soundly on a rollaway bed nearby. Still, she interacted with no one more than a nod or a shrug.
Once again, it felt like her voice was stripped from her. She couldn't reconcile killing anyone with who she thought she was. Even though the police cleared her, she was still a murderer in her mind. The world didn't make sense. Maybe it never did. Maybe she was too blind to the evils and uncertainties because she was so steadfast in her dreams and abilities to notice.
She was rethinking everything she thought she knew about herself and her dreams. School seemed like a distant memory. Maybe she didn't belong there anymore. They didn't seem to care about her, throwing her under the bus for the actions of others. Slowly, her dreams were ripped away. Everything she worked for felt suddenly so far away.
It was all a mess. Her head was in tatters. She felt empty and sad and still scared. Shelby was trying. Rachel knew that, but she didn't know how to return the effort right now. She couldn't even bring herself to get out of bed most times.
Everyone was worried. There were a lot of hushed conversations and talks with Dr. Freedman about her on her third day in silence. She would have to find the courage to talk eventually, but she didn't have the energy or understanding to do it yet. But when they started talking about an inpatient treatment program, she knew she would have to force it sooner rather than later.
Her brain and emotions just needed to get on board with that.
"Rach," Kurt whispered.
The bed beside her dipped, but she didn't acknowledge him.
"I know you can hear me, Diva."
Nothing.
"You're scaring everyone," he told her. "I can't begin to know what's going on in your head. I don't even want to imagine what you're thinking about or feeling."
He sighed. She wasn't moving, but he knew she was listening.
"I saw the apartment. It was a mess. And you're room… Rachel, if he hurt you again, you can tell us. We just want to help. And he can't hurt you anymore. I know you're struggling with what happened, but you didn't do anything wrong. You were defending yourself and Santana. You don't need to be ashamed of that."
More nothing.
"Please. Talk to us. We're here for you, even in your silence. I love you, Diva. I hope you know that."
I love you too, Kurt, she said in her head, unable to speak the words.
He stayed by her side and held her hand until later that morning when he had to get up for work. She was on a sabbatical of sorts and taking time off. She couldn't exactly be a singing waitress with messed up ribs and looking like she went a round with Mike Tyson. Not to mention the whole not talking thing…
She didn't join everyone for breakfast the next morning. She didn't come when Beth asked her to help her pick an outfit for her birthday party the next day. She didn't say the customary thank you when her grandparents gave her a playbill to add to her collection.
She hadn't left the bed unless it was to use the bathroom since she came from the hospital. It was starting to get to everyone just as much as the no talking.
"Rachel, sweetie, you're going to get bedsores if you don't come out of there sometime."
She shrugged and rolled over as best she could manage.
Shelby sighed and made a promise to herself to keep pushing. It was what Rachel needed.
They brought her food and water and tried their best, but it was a lot. They worried the space that she wanted wasn't the solution to the problem. But things were coming to a head. The porcelain was ready to crack, just as they had been waiting for it.
It was the night before Beth's party. Kurt headed back to Ohio for a much-needed weekend with his family. He was reluctant to leave, but he didn't seem to be helping Rachel, so he needed to at least help himself and visit with his dad.
The room was quiet. Rachel couldn't fight sleep this time. She was just too tired to stay awake. It felt like as soon as her eyes closed, she was transported to the moment she stabbed Jasper. She could feel the pressure of the knife as it pierced through his chest. The heat of the blood on her skin lingered.
What really haunted her was the look on his face. When she pulled away from him, both of them lying on the ground, she could do nothing but stare as the gravity of what happened hit her. When she sat there, knees curled up against her chest, she just watched him. There was a relief and fear that he might be dead, that she killed him. She could hear his initial ragged breathing, but it either stopped or she was just deafened to it.
Before that, though, his eyes met hers with a look of shock and terror. He couldn't believe she actually did it, and he was afraid. In his last moments, he was afraid and that didn't offer her the comfort it could have. She wanted him to suffer, but she didn't want to kill him. That just wasn't her.
Yet she couldn't bring herself to help him. She just watched as he coughed up blood and it trickled down the corner of his mouth. The weight of everything was crushing, and she was paralyzed because of it.
In that moment, she was relieved to be alive and happy Santana was ok. Nothing else was comprehensible.
In retrospect, she knew she should be happy he was gone – knowing he could never hurt her or anyone else again. Maybe some part of her would be. But she also had to live with the trauma and pain of what she did while dealing with her own assault. His face would continue to haunt her as much now that he was dead as it did after he assaulted her. Maybe it would haunt her even more because she was the monster now.
That was what kept her up at night and woke her up with her own scream that morning. She was deep into the nightmare when his cold dead hands sprung to life and choked her. Gasping for breath, she woke just in time to let out a blood curdling scream.
Beth, the one closest to her room, ran inside crying asking if she was ok. Rachel couldn't speak, just gasping for air. It truly felt like she couldn't breathe. Poor little Beth could do nothing to help. In tears, Beth called for her mother who was already on her way.
"Go to your room Beth."
"But I wanna help."
"It's ok. She'll be ok. I promise I'll check in on you in a bit, alright?"
"But mom…"
"Please Beth."
Beth sniffled and huffed, but obliged, leaving the mother and daughter alone.
Shelby immediately went to Rachel's side. She knew the younger woman had to be in pain. Her ribs were no where near healed, and the shaky movement of her chest definitely wasn't helping.
"I'm here. You're alright."
As Shelby held her, gently as not to hurt her, she could feel her daughter's body practically vibrating with fear and anxiety. Trying to calm her, Shelby did the one thing she thought could help. She sang.
It took three verses and a whole lot of crying before Rachel's breathing regulated enough to attempt conversation.
Slightly pulling away, Shelby said, "I want to help you, Rachel. But I need you to tell me if this is a pain thing, if you're hurt, or if it's something else. Please speak or I'm going to be forced to take you to the hospital."
Rachel was silent.
"Can you look at me, honey? Please?"
Rachel managed, barely, to meet her eyes.
"You don't have to say anything, but nod ok? Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?"
Rachel shook her head.
"You're not hurt?"
"No," she said, speaking her first word since the hospital.
It filled Shelby with immense relief. Her voice was scratchy, but there, and that was what mattered.
Shelby reached over to take Rachel's hand. She didn't take offense when her daughter flinched away.
"Oh Rachel…You have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice."
"I'm sorry."
Her voice was still shaky, but she continued to talk and it was pure magic.
"Don't be. I'm so happy you're talking."
Eyes red and shining with tears, Rachel said, "I scared Beth."
"You've scared everyone, Love, but we don't blame you."
"I'm sorry," she repeated.
"Sweetie… You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Can you tell me what woke you up? Was it a bad dream?"
She nodded before adding, "Only it wasn't a dream. It really happened."
Rachel was barely keeping it together. Her body physically hurt and her mind was broken in its own way. She was still in the post panic haze that left her vulnerable and exposed. But it also left her a little more open. She didn't have the strength to build up her walls. She was too tired and too messed up for that right then.
"Can you talk to me about it? Tell me what it was about?"
No, she wanted to say, but her mind and heart were not in the same place. Instead, she said, "Just… Just for right now, I need you to be my mom, ok? No issues between us, just a girl needing her mother in this moment. Ok?"
"Ok," Shelby quickly agreed. Of course, she wanted to be what Rachel needed and what she was asking was exactly what she wanted anyway.
Rachel looked at her, face completely crumbling, and the tears quickly falling.
"I killed someone, Mom. I'm a monster."
"No… No, Rachel. You're not."
"I am… I killed him. I… I can still feel the knife in my hand. I can still feel him on me. I want it to stop."
Rachel completely fell apart. There was no consoling her. She just needed to let it out. In that moment, Shelby just had to be there. There was no talking, not then, just being. And that was enough.
Rachel sobbed into her mother's chest as Shelby offered what comfort she could. Eventually, the tears ebbed and Rachel was a little more consoled. Shelby took that as her opportunity to speak and hopefully get Rachel to talk more.
Never mind that it was 4 am and they were all tired or that she really did need to check on Beth. Right now, Rachel was her child, and she needed her more than anything else. This moment was about helping Rachel and being the mother she needed.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
There was a beat of silence before Rachel's crackly, whispered voice said, "I killed him. I killed someone. I don't think I'll ever be ok again."
"You were put in an impossible situation, Rachel. But you survived and you helped your friend survive. You're a hero. Not a monster."
"But I killed him. I did that. I could've run. I… I could've let him do what he wanted."
"No," Shelby said a little too forcefully. "I'm sorry, but no, Rachel. He was the monster, and I know it doesn't make it easier to process, but you did what you needed to survive. I'll always be thankful for that – to have this chance to hold you and be here for you rather than be at your funeral."
"Sometimes I wish he had killed me."
"I hope you don't mean that because I couldn't fathom a world without you in it. I know a lot of people feel that way too.
"There's no place for me any more. I don't feel like me. I don't know who I am or what I'm capable of any more. How can I not be a monster? I'm no better than him."
"Rachel, you'll find your place again, once you work through the demons that haunt you. You'll get there. I promise. But you can't give up. Never give up on yourself."
"I just… I just don't know what to do or what to feel or… anything. I…"
"Hey, it's ok. It's ok not to know. In time, you'll figure it out. You'll make sense of it all. Until then, your friends, family… Me… We're all here to remind you how great you are until you see it yourself."
Rachel fought through the pain in her ribs and hugged her mother tightly for as long as she could manage. Shelby welcomed the embrace.
"I should be happy he's gone," Rachel whispered. "He raped me. He ruined my life. But now I'm just as miserable as I was before only it's worse because he won't even pay for what he did. I have to live with the consequences."
"You'll get through this Rachel."
"Promise?"
"I promise we're going to do everything we can to support you and make you feel better. Together, alright?"
Reluctantly, Rachel agreed.
"Alright."
"What do you say, want to talk some more? Maybe try to go back to bed? It's still early and you should rest."
"I don't think I can sleep."
"Ok. Then how about I make us some tea and we stay up watching movies? Your choice."
"You don't have to…"
"I want to."
"I'd like that. Thanks."
"Meet me in the living room. I'll go start on the tea."
Shelby smiled and quickly went to check on Beth before starting the tea. She was happy to find Rachel curled up on the couch when she returned. It was just nice to see her out of the room.
In the end, they didn't talk more that night. It wasn't the breakthrough everyone was hoping for, and no one really knew how they could help Rachel beyond just being there each step of the way, but it was progress. Really, that was all they could ask for.
Slowly, Rachel would heal and they would figure out the next steps. In the meantime, they were going to enjoy the party and Rachel would meet more of her family. Perhaps the dysfunctional, loving Corcoran clan was just what Rachel needed.