Fic: Breakdowns and Breakthroughs (5/?)
Title: Breakdowns and Breakthroughs (5/?)
Pairing: Rachel/Santana
Rating: NC-17 overall (Hard R for this part)
Word Count: 1736Spoliers: None, really.
Disclaimer: Not at all like what I usually write. A little angsty, but knowing me, it’ll turn fluffy at some point. Some trauma triggers in there. Be warned.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don’t own these characters.
A/N: Thanks to my beta, sky_splitz for encouraging me to test out these new, angsty waters.
For obvious reasons, this chapter was really difficult for me to write. I've edited, edited, and re-edited, but I'm still not sure if I've done it justice. More than ever, I'd appreciate your comments to let me know what you think.
Santana stood up and walked to Rachel’s desk. She needed not to be touched, at least for the time being, if she was going to do this without breaking. Rachel’s eyes followed her silently.
With a deep breath, Santana started.
“Coach always keeps us at practice late in the Spring,” Santana said. “It’s warmer out, and stays lighter for longer, so she tortures us until we can’t stand up.”
Rachel nodded.
“On April 12th last year, she kept us a lot later than usual. I had the worst cramps I’ve ever had in my life, so I kept screwing up the fucking pyramid.” she said. “Coach didn’t call practice off until I’d thrown up twice.”
Rachel was about to open her mouth to protest, but clamped it shut, remembering her promise to let Santana get the whole story out.
Santana smiled sadly. “It was such a nice day, so Brittany and I had walked to school. I was completely exhausted, but neither of us had a car and by the time I was finished puking again in the locker room, everybody else on the team had already left. We decided to just walk home,” she said, paling slightly as she continued. “It didn’t seem like a bad idea, at the time.”
Rachel took a deep breath as she fought off the panic, hoping desperately that this story wasn’t going where she feared it might be headed.
“I dropped Brittany off first, just like always. She only lives ten minutes away,” Santana said weakly, staring blankly at the wall straight in front of her. “Rach, he came out of nowhere.”
Rachel closed her eyes as one tear fell down her cheek.
“One minute I’m walking home, just like any other Spring day, and the next thing I know, I’m being shoved into the trunk of a car. We drove for over an hour and I puked again…he was going so fast and there were so many potholes. When he finally parked the car and opened the hatch, I tried to kick him, to punch him, anything. But I was still so weak from practice and from having thrown up so many times. I managed to scratch his face pretty badly, but that’s about it. He just smiled and licked his lips. He called me feisty and wiped vomit off of my chin. He was gentle. It made me want to throw up again.”
Rachel clutched a pillow to her chest silently as the tears freely flowed.
“I watched Law & Order often enough to know that I had his DNA under my finger nails, so I thought everything was going to be okay. No matter what he did to me, I’d be the one to slam the cell door shut on him. Whether I was alive for it or not.”
Rachel choked out a desperate sob against her pillowcase.
“Do you want me to stop?” Santana asked, her eyes still on the wall.
“No,” Rachel whimpered, holding the pillow closer. “Keep going.”
Santana nodded and closed her eyes. “I did my best to look around when he dragged me inside, to figure out where I was. But it was totally nondescript. There were no other houses around. Just…nothing. He took me up the stairs, brought me into the bathroom, and handcuffed me to the towel bar. When he put on a pair of rubber gloves and started to undress me, I pulled against the restraints as hard as I could. I yelled, and spit, and cursed, but all he did was smile. Then he held me against the wall, filed down my nails, and scrubbed underneath them. I guess he watched Law & Order too.”
Rachel sat on the bed, eyes wide open and shaking with the force of her tears.
“When I was clean, he picked up my clothes, pulled me downstairs to a completely empty room, cuffed me to a radiator, and walked away. I tried to get out of the cuffs, but they were just too tight. When I smelled detergent and realized he was washing my uniform, I panicked. That was the last of my physical proof.”
Rachel choked out a silent sob.
“When he came back in the room, I kicked at him but he laughed and bent down next to me. I tried to headbutt him but he moved away too quickly. He punched me in the stomach, so hard I lost all of the air in my lungs. “I like your spirit, but don’t make me do that again,” he said like a mother scolding her son. He didn’t even seem angry.”
Santana’s voice had gotten weaker and weaker. Rachel could see that she was shaking with the effort of telling the story, of remembering every detail. She wanted so badly to go over to her girlfriend, to hold her, to bring her back to the here and now, but she just couldn’t move.
“I spat at him when he touched me, when he put his fingers inside me, but he didn’t care. He touched me everywhere for what seemed like hours. Then he got up and walked to the corner of the room. I thought, maybe it was over. Maybe that’s it,” Santana whimpered, her face ghostly pale. “But when he started to take off his clothes, I knew it wasn’t. He came back and put on a condom, then got onto the floor next to me. Before he pushed himself into me, he told me that he understood if I had to scream, that it was okay. God, Rach, it hurt so badly. I was a virgin,” Santana whispered. “I didn’t cry though. And I didn’t scream. I refused to give him that.”
“Santana,” Rachel croaked out.
“Let me finish,” Santana pleaded, making eye contact with Rachel for the first time since she had begun the story. “I won’t be able to get through it if you don’t let me finish.”
Rachel sobbed and nodded, clutching the pillow tighter to her chest.
“He raped me, then went into the other room to put my clothes in the drier, and raped me again two times when he came back. When he was done, he kissed my forehead, told me where the drier was so I could get my clothes, and walked out,” Santana said, staring at the floor. “I waited until I heard his car drive away before I put my clothes back on and left. I couldn’t go home though, not like that. So I walked around for a while, until I could bring myself to call Brittany. Her mom answered and I just started crying. She asked me where I was but I had no idea, so I just walked until I found somewhere with street names while she woke Brittany up. Brittany stayed on the phone the whole time it took for them to get to me, talking about ducks and puppies to distract me. I was so tired when they finally picked me up, in so much pain, that I just wanted to sleep, but Brittany told me that she had to take me to a doctor first, to make sure I was okay.”
Rachel sat silently, listening. The tears had stopped and numbness had begun to diffuse through her body.
Santana breathed deeply. It was almost over, almost done.
“I called my parents in the waiting room while Brittany’s mom called the police. When my parents got to the hospital, the police took me in to see the doctor. My mom started to come in with me but I grabbed Brittany’s hand. I just couldn’t handle the pain on her face. I needed to focus on my own and Brittany…well, she’ll always smile. Even if it’s just to make me smile,” Santana said, the corner of her lips twitching into a sad smile.
“I undressed in the exam room, put on a gown, and handed my clothes to the police. The exam was horrible. I was already in so much pain, everything felt like it was tearing all over again. The doctor was being as gentle as he could, but his fingers were just so big and he put them everywhere,” Santana said, shivering as tears finally started to fall. “After it was finished, I changed into the clothes my mom had packed for me and went to the police station. They questioned me for hours. I slept for fourteen hours when I finally got home.”
“I was broken for so, so long. My parents helped me through it as much as they could, but I saw the hurt in their eyes every time I looked at them so I started spending more and more time with Brittany. She was right beside me in school when I had to be strong, and held me at night when I could barely piece myself together. After a while, it turned into more. I knew we weren’t together, that neither of us really wanted that, but she helped me realize that I was capable of loving and worth being loved. She let me touch her but didn’t push to touch me.”
“That’s why you got so scared when I was so forceful with you the other day,” Rachel said weakly, her face losing all color.
“Yeah,” Santana said, hurrying to continue. “But there was no way you could have known. I should have told you all of this from the beginning.”
“Can I…did they catch him?” Rachel asked, the hope and anger clear in her voice.
“No,” Santana said, sighing deeply. “They found the place where he kept me. They even got fingerprints, but they couldn’t find a match in their system. Either he had never committed a crime before, or he had never gotten caught.”
Rachel was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I understand why you didn’t tell me,” she said, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “But you need to know that it doesn’t change anything.”
“Are you leaving me?” Santana asked weakly, looking up at Rachel with tears welling up in her eyes.
“Santana, hush,” Rachel said, rushing to the desk and kneeling in front of her girlfriend. “You’re so brave and I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Santana sobbed, finally letting out all the tears that she’d been holding in. “Please don’t leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Rachel said, holding back her own tears. “I promise.”
Pairing: Rachel/Santana
Rating: NC-17 overall (Hard R for this part)
Word Count: 1736Spoliers: None, really.
Disclaimer: Not at all like what I usually write. A little angsty, but knowing me, it’ll turn fluffy at some point. Some trauma triggers in there. Be warned.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don’t own these characters.
A/N: Thanks to my beta, sky_splitz for encouraging me to test out these new, angsty waters.
For obvious reasons, this chapter was really difficult for me to write. I've edited, edited, and re-edited, but I'm still not sure if I've done it justice. More than ever, I'd appreciate your comments to let me know what you think.
Santana stood up and walked to Rachel’s desk. She needed not to be touched, at least for the time being, if she was going to do this without breaking. Rachel’s eyes followed her silently.
With a deep breath, Santana started.
“Coach always keeps us at practice late in the Spring,” Santana said. “It’s warmer out, and stays lighter for longer, so she tortures us until we can’t stand up.”
Rachel nodded.
“On April 12th last year, she kept us a lot later than usual. I had the worst cramps I’ve ever had in my life, so I kept screwing up the fucking pyramid.” she said. “Coach didn’t call practice off until I’d thrown up twice.”
Rachel was about to open her mouth to protest, but clamped it shut, remembering her promise to let Santana get the whole story out.
Santana smiled sadly. “It was such a nice day, so Brittany and I had walked to school. I was completely exhausted, but neither of us had a car and by the time I was finished puking again in the locker room, everybody else on the team had already left. We decided to just walk home,” she said, paling slightly as she continued. “It didn’t seem like a bad idea, at the time.”
Rachel took a deep breath as she fought off the panic, hoping desperately that this story wasn’t going where she feared it might be headed.
“I dropped Brittany off first, just like always. She only lives ten minutes away,” Santana said weakly, staring blankly at the wall straight in front of her. “Rach, he came out of nowhere.”
Rachel closed her eyes as one tear fell down her cheek.
“One minute I’m walking home, just like any other Spring day, and the next thing I know, I’m being shoved into the trunk of a car. We drove for over an hour and I puked again…he was going so fast and there were so many potholes. When he finally parked the car and opened the hatch, I tried to kick him, to punch him, anything. But I was still so weak from practice and from having thrown up so many times. I managed to scratch his face pretty badly, but that’s about it. He just smiled and licked his lips. He called me feisty and wiped vomit off of my chin. He was gentle. It made me want to throw up again.”
Rachel clutched a pillow to her chest silently as the tears freely flowed.
“I watched Law & Order often enough to know that I had his DNA under my finger nails, so I thought everything was going to be okay. No matter what he did to me, I’d be the one to slam the cell door shut on him. Whether I was alive for it or not.”
Rachel choked out a desperate sob against her pillowcase.
“Do you want me to stop?” Santana asked, her eyes still on the wall.
“No,” Rachel whimpered, holding the pillow closer. “Keep going.”
Santana nodded and closed her eyes. “I did my best to look around when he dragged me inside, to figure out where I was. But it was totally nondescript. There were no other houses around. Just…nothing. He took me up the stairs, brought me into the bathroom, and handcuffed me to the towel bar. When he put on a pair of rubber gloves and started to undress me, I pulled against the restraints as hard as I could. I yelled, and spit, and cursed, but all he did was smile. Then he held me against the wall, filed down my nails, and scrubbed underneath them. I guess he watched Law & Order too.”
Rachel sat on the bed, eyes wide open and shaking with the force of her tears.
“When I was clean, he picked up my clothes, pulled me downstairs to a completely empty room, cuffed me to a radiator, and walked away. I tried to get out of the cuffs, but they were just too tight. When I smelled detergent and realized he was washing my uniform, I panicked. That was the last of my physical proof.”
Rachel choked out a silent sob.
“When he came back in the room, I kicked at him but he laughed and bent down next to me. I tried to headbutt him but he moved away too quickly. He punched me in the stomach, so hard I lost all of the air in my lungs. “I like your spirit, but don’t make me do that again,” he said like a mother scolding her son. He didn’t even seem angry.”
Santana’s voice had gotten weaker and weaker. Rachel could see that she was shaking with the effort of telling the story, of remembering every detail. She wanted so badly to go over to her girlfriend, to hold her, to bring her back to the here and now, but she just couldn’t move.
“I spat at him when he touched me, when he put his fingers inside me, but he didn’t care. He touched me everywhere for what seemed like hours. Then he got up and walked to the corner of the room. I thought, maybe it was over. Maybe that’s it,” Santana whimpered, her face ghostly pale. “But when he started to take off his clothes, I knew it wasn’t. He came back and put on a condom, then got onto the floor next to me. Before he pushed himself into me, he told me that he understood if I had to scream, that it was okay. God, Rach, it hurt so badly. I was a virgin,” Santana whispered. “I didn’t cry though. And I didn’t scream. I refused to give him that.”
“Santana,” Rachel croaked out.
“Let me finish,” Santana pleaded, making eye contact with Rachel for the first time since she had begun the story. “I won’t be able to get through it if you don’t let me finish.”
Rachel sobbed and nodded, clutching the pillow tighter to her chest.
“He raped me, then went into the other room to put my clothes in the drier, and raped me again two times when he came back. When he was done, he kissed my forehead, told me where the drier was so I could get my clothes, and walked out,” Santana said, staring at the floor. “I waited until I heard his car drive away before I put my clothes back on and left. I couldn’t go home though, not like that. So I walked around for a while, until I could bring myself to call Brittany. Her mom answered and I just started crying. She asked me where I was but I had no idea, so I just walked until I found somewhere with street names while she woke Brittany up. Brittany stayed on the phone the whole time it took for them to get to me, talking about ducks and puppies to distract me. I was so tired when they finally picked me up, in so much pain, that I just wanted to sleep, but Brittany told me that she had to take me to a doctor first, to make sure I was okay.”
Rachel sat silently, listening. The tears had stopped and numbness had begun to diffuse through her body.
Santana breathed deeply. It was almost over, almost done.
“I called my parents in the waiting room while Brittany’s mom called the police. When my parents got to the hospital, the police took me in to see the doctor. My mom started to come in with me but I grabbed Brittany’s hand. I just couldn’t handle the pain on her face. I needed to focus on my own and Brittany…well, she’ll always smile. Even if it’s just to make me smile,” Santana said, the corner of her lips twitching into a sad smile.
“I undressed in the exam room, put on a gown, and handed my clothes to the police. The exam was horrible. I was already in so much pain, everything felt like it was tearing all over again. The doctor was being as gentle as he could, but his fingers were just so big and he put them everywhere,” Santana said, shivering as tears finally started to fall. “After it was finished, I changed into the clothes my mom had packed for me and went to the police station. They questioned me for hours. I slept for fourteen hours when I finally got home.”
“I was broken for so, so long. My parents helped me through it as much as they could, but I saw the hurt in their eyes every time I looked at them so I started spending more and more time with Brittany. She was right beside me in school when I had to be strong, and held me at night when I could barely piece myself together. After a while, it turned into more. I knew we weren’t together, that neither of us really wanted that, but she helped me realize that I was capable of loving and worth being loved. She let me touch her but didn’t push to touch me.”
“That’s why you got so scared when I was so forceful with you the other day,” Rachel said weakly, her face losing all color.
“Yeah,” Santana said, hurrying to continue. “But there was no way you could have known. I should have told you all of this from the beginning.”
“Can I…did they catch him?” Rachel asked, the hope and anger clear in her voice.
“No,” Santana said, sighing deeply. “They found the place where he kept me. They even got fingerprints, but they couldn’t find a match in their system. Either he had never committed a crime before, or he had never gotten caught.”
Rachel was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I understand why you didn’t tell me,” she said, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “But you need to know that it doesn’t change anything.”
“Are you leaving me?” Santana asked weakly, looking up at Rachel with tears welling up in her eyes.
“Santana, hush,” Rachel said, rushing to the desk and kneeling in front of her girlfriend. “You’re so brave and I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Santana sobbed, finally letting out all the tears that she’d been holding in. “Please don’t leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Rachel said, holding back her own tears. “I promise.”