Chapter 4

Santana sat at the table and rolled the business card over and over through her fingers. She'd pulled away from Rachel again and was living back in her apartment. She'd been quiet, too quiet she knew and she knew that Alex meant well. But, she didn't think that she was ready to talk to anyone yet. It was still too raw. She knew that it would probably be better for her to talk to someone, but she just couldn't.

She'd been good and leaving her cases at work. It helped keep the nightmares at bay. She didn't know if that was really it or if her mind was still trying to process something that she couldn't remember. She knew that the cases were giving her ideas and fodder for her dreams, but she also knew that sleeping at Rachel's kept her more grounded. She wasn't sure if it was the little dynamo Star that was helping or the fact that time was just passing. She hoped that it was time, because she didn't want to be attached to Rachel any longer than she had to be.

Her phone rang and she grabbed it off her coffee table. She looked over at the TV, which was off, and then at the caller ID. She saw that it was Quinn. She knew that she couldn't ignore the call. It was too late in the day to do that and she knew that Quinn would just keep calling. And if she ignored Quinn long enough, she knew that somehow Brittany would be involved and she'd start calling, too.

"Hey," Santana said as she answered her phone.

"What's up with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"We were supposed to meet the next morning. Your never called or showed up for breakfast and then Rachel called me a few days later and said there was an accident or something. What the fuck is she doing calling me about it and not you? I think I've given you enough time to figure it out and call me. So spill."

Santana couldn't help but laugh. She knew that Quinn was really calling to fish for information. She knew that if Rachel told her anything it wouldn't have been much. Honestly, it was because Rachel didn't know much about it in the beginning and now that she did, she doubted that Rachel would ever break her trust to even tell Quinn what really happened.

"I don't think it's funny, San. What happened? Are you gonna tell me?" Quinn asked.

"Calm your tits, Tubbers, and I'll tell you."

"You don't have to be a bitch about it," Quinn quipped.

"Sure, I do. It's my job, remember? I'm the HBIC while you're the Queen Bee," Santana replied.

"Whatever. Tell me what happened or I'll show up. And, you know, I'll come with reinforcements."

"Leave B out of this."

"Then talk."

Santana huffed. She looked around her living room and then her apartment. She was trying to ground herself, because...because she knew that she was about to tell Quinn the truth. She knew that she wouldn't be able not to. Quinn was her oldest friend and it sucked that she was living in Boston.

"Please don't freak out."

"San..." came the warning and plea in one.

"I was attacked on my way home from the play that night. I was in the hospital and then at Rachel's when you were trying to reach me. She probably told you as much as she could get out of me before I shut down. I forgot that I still had her listed as who I wanted to be notified and that she had a limited medical proxy for me. Thankfully, by the time she made it to the hospital, I was awake and trying to leave."

"She threatened to call all of us if you didn't go with her, didn't she?"

"Yes," San replied quietly.

"Typical. But, you're okay, right? No lasting damage or anything like that? Nothing we need to be worried about? You're okay and I don't need to come up there this weekend to check on you?" Quinn questioned.

"Now that is a loaded question."

"San...what is it?"

"Physically, I'm fine."

"But?" Quinn pushed.

"Mentally...it's a different story all together."

"Why do I have a feeling that I'm coming up there this weekend regardless of what you tell me? And, why do I also have the feeling that Rachel doesn't really know everything about the attack? What haven't you told her? Or, the police, or whatever?"

"Quinn..."

"No, you tell me now, or I'm getting in my car, grabbing my laptop and I'll be there tonight."

"Don't."

"No, San. We promised. We promised that we wouldn't do this after graduation. We promised that we wouldn't suffer anything alone because of what happened with Beth, and then Finn, and then Puck. You are not going to shut us out. We are your family. We became a family because of glee and all the shit we went through. Are you going to let all that go just because you were attacked? I don't think so. Just tell me what the fuck happened," Quinn demanded.

She sighed again. She knew that this time it was a little more dramatic and a little more drawn out, but she didn't care. She also knew that Quinn meant her threat. She would be in New York that night if she didn't give her more. And, she also knew that Quinn was right. She needed to tell someone. Who better than her? She took a deep breath.

"San?"

"I'm still here."

"San...what is it?" Quinn asked her, quietly.

San realized then that Quinn was really worried. She wasn't just trying to get information. She was frightened for her friend.

"I was..."

"Just tell me. Rip off the band aid. I'm here for you," Quinn told her.

"I know. Trust me, I know. So, I was attacked as I was walking home from the theatre," she started and then barrelled thru the rest because she was afraid that if she didn't, she would never tell anyone else ever again. "I got pulled into an alleyway near the diner I was heading to get dinner. I was knocked into a brick wall and blacked out. I was mugged and evidently raped. I don't remember any of it. A patrol officer that I've worked with before saw me and called it in. She stayed with me until I got to the hospital. That's when my mentor and her wife, a SVU detective came to handle my case. The officer called them personally. Rachel was called before I woke up."

"San..." she could hear the tears in Quinn's voice.

"I'm fine, Q."

"The fuck you are. No one is fine after something like that, S. You know that. You prosecute that assholes for a living. Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying, Q. I am fine...at least physically. Mentally, my brain is trying to kill me some days, I think."

"I would imagine so. Do you want me to come back to the City? I can be there tonight. I wasn't kidding about that."

"No, the Midget will get mad if you do. She's taken to caring for me for whatever reason. She'll probably be over here later tonight. She's been giving her understudy some stage time. Two nights a week just so she can come stay with me or something. I didn't ask her to and I'm afraid that it'll hurt her reputation if she wants to get a new show," Santana told her.

"I doubt that will hurt her any. She's already a darling of Broadway. They aren't going to let her go without her telling them she's retiring. Don't worry about Berry. I'll call her. I'll tell her I'm coming to stay with you for a few days. That way you get a break from her," Quinn stated.

"Quinn, I don't want you changing your life for me."

"S, I'm an author. I don't have a life. I write about it. I can do whatever I want. If I want to spend some time in New York, I can do that. I honestly just stayed in Boston after graduation because I could and I already was renting the Brownstone. I don't have to stay here. I could just as easily move to NYC. I didn't because I didn't need to."

"You still don't."

"San..."

"No, Q. I am not a charity case. I'll be okay. I just need time."

"And friends to help pick you up on the bad days," Quinn replied.

"I know that, but today wasn't a bad day," she stated firmly.

"San..."

"Yeah?"

"What if I told you that I wanted to see for myself?"

"Q..."

"I won't tell anyone, San. I promise. I just...I want to see for myself that you are okay. If you want let me come tonight, I'll come this weekend. We'll hang out. Eat ice cream and watch bad horror movies. Just humor me, please. I need to do this."

"Why?"

"Because I know...I know what it is like to be alone when everything is crumbling around you," Quinn almost whispered into the phone.

"I should have been there for you then, Q..."

"It was high school, S. There is nothing to forgive. We were both horrible to each other. Honestly, I am not sure if we hadn't joined glee, if we wouldn't have killed each other. I need to see you to appease my own conscience. Please."

"Fine, this weekend, but not before."

"That'll give a few days to make yourself look human again. Don't, San. I can tell you aren't sleeping. I can hear it in your voice. Did you forget who you're talking to? I know more about you than your own parents. Now, I'll see you Friday afternoon. I'll meet your at your office and don't try to duck out on me. If you do, I'll call Brittany and tell her everything. And, then all of glee will descend on NYC just for you. Don't doubt that," Quinn told her.

"I don't. I'll wait for you there. Don't be too later and mind all the construction."

"I will, don't worry."

"Quinn," San said.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"No problem. I love you. See ya Friday."

"Yeah, I love you, too. See ya Friday, Q. Have a safe trip," Santana told her.

She was putting her phone back on the table when Rachel came in through her apartment door. She wasn't sure when, but she knew she had to have given the smaller woman a key to her place. Thinking back on it, she had a key to Rachel's, too, even if they didn't see each other that often. She knew that it had more to do with their personalities than their schedules. They could make something work if they wanted to, but they were living their lives and trying to respect each other's boundries to try harder. Now, Rachel was slowly worming her way into Santana's life more fully and it didn't look like she was leaving anytime soon. Santana just sighed as she watched her come in like she owned the place, but she couldn't help but smile at it, too.

"Hey," Rachel called as she sat her keys down in the bowl by the door.

She continued further into the apartment, dropping her light jacket and purse on the table. She sat a set of bags down on the table as well. Santana couldn't tell what it was, but she could smell that it was food. She watched as Rachel went straight into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of wine and opened it. While she was letting it breathe, she grabbed some plates and utensils. Coming back to the table, she set it quickly, before heading back into the kitchen. She came back with the bottle and two wine glasses. Santana just sat on her couch and watched her.

"Hey," Santana finally answered.

"You okay?"

"Quinn called."

"She did?"

"Yeah."

"So?"

"She's coming to visit this weekend."

"That's good."

"She's worried about me."

"I am, too."

"She told me that she called while I was staying with you."

"She did."

"You never told me."

"It was in your call logs, San. I didn't see the need to tell you. I just figured that you would see it and call her back."

"I didn't."

"I know."

"You told her that I was attacked," San said.

"I did."

"But, you didn't tell that I was..."

"No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

"Because that is personal and I didn't think that you wanted everyone to know. I knew that you were mad enough that your friends from work knew about it. I also knew that you were happy about the fact that the hospital called me. I might not have known immediately what happened, but when I saw the bruises... I wouldn't break your confidence like that, Santana. I would have taken it to the grave for you. If you don't want Quinn, she doesn't need to know," Rahcel explained to her.

"I told her," Santana replied simply.

"That's why she's coming?"

"Yup."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You aren't the one that hurt me. You've been terribly kind, sheltering and smothering to me since the hospital. Knowing the truth has only made you even more annoyingly so. But, I guess I would rather you know and be here for me than not have you, if that makes any sense," San said.

"It does."

The smell of the food made San feel funny but she was hungry, so she dismissed it. She knew that Rachel was watching to see that she was eating. She didn't want Santana to fall into a depression. San knew that she meant well, but sometimes it was more aggravating than she could tolerate.

"What did you get?" San asked as she pushed down her nausea.

"Thai," Rachel answered quickly as she started to dish out some of the food. "I got you Pad Thai with eggs and rice noodles since you liked mine so much last time. There's no tofu in it. I got Thai Red Curry for me. But, I also got some Coconut Soup, too."

"Sounds great," Santana told her as she started to turn green.

"San, you okay?"

"Just a long day," she stated.

"You sure? You don't look so good. Why don't you go lay down on the couch real quick. I'll get you a damp cloth from the bathroom."

Santana nodded at her as she moved back to the couch and sat down. She stared at her blank TV again as the nausea didn't subside. It fact it got worse when she bent at the waist. She up and running for her other bathroom as Rachel came out of the one just off the living room.

Santana passed her in a blur of red and black. Rachel stood there dumbfounded for a minute with the wet wash cloth in her hand before she realized what happened. When she actually heard Santana begin retching in the other room, she changed her destination from the couch to wait to Santana's in suite bathroom to hold the other woman's hair.

She walked into Santana's room and found the bathroom door shut. She knocked lightly and slowly opened the door. Santana looked like a college student nursing a hangover as she hugged the toilet. Rachel's heart lurched for the Latina. She reached down and pulled her hair back. Finding an elastic, she quickly pulled it back and tied it back at the base of her neck. She rubbed the wash cloth over San's face to help clean her up between spells and to help cool her off.

"You need to call out for tomorrow, San. You don't look good. You should go to the doctor."

"It's nothing, Berry. Promise. Just stress is all. Happens every now and then. I guess talking to Quinn took more out of me than I wanted to admit," Santana told her.

"You're sure?"

"I'll be alright in a few minutes. Just let me deal with this, yeah. Go eat. I'll be out there soon."

Rachel handed the cloth and smiled weakly. She went back the table and waited. A few minutes later, she heard the toilet flush again and the tap turn on. She assumed the Santana was brushing her teeth to get the taste out. She was right and knew it as soon as she saw the Latina, who was now dressed in a WMHS Cheerios t-shirt and a NYU set of sweats.

"So, dinner?" San offered as she sat down.

"Yeah, dinner."

"You're staying tonight, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"No musicals."

"Fine."

"Food and then bed."

"If that's what you want."

"It is," San replied.

"Then, we'll revisit the doctor and how you feel in the morning."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Thanks for the food."

"No problem."

And, it wasn't. She was worried about Santana. They weren't the greatest of friends, but they weren't enemies. And, Rachel knew that Santana would need a friendly face every now and again just to help her keep the nightmares at bay. She was San's friend and she wanted to protect her, help her, and heal her. But, she could only do what San would allow. For now, dinner and cuddling in bed would have to do.