Fic: Breakdowns and Breakthroughs (11/?)
Title: Breakdowns and Breakthroughs (11/?)
Pairing: Rachel/Santana
Rating: R fort this part
Word Count: 1824Spoliers: 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.
**Okay, so I think the story is winding to a close, or will be in the next few chapters. All of your comments have meant so much to me. Knowing that I'm able to make a difference, even if its a teeny tiny difference, makes all the hard work worthwhile. Please continue to let me know how you think I'm doing. You're all the best!**
Santana paced outside the courtroom, waiting for the bailiff to call her inside.
“You need to calm down,” Rachel said, placing her hands on Santana’s shoulders and gently rubbing. “You’re about to burn a hole in the floor.”
“With me feet or my flaming homosexuality?” Santana quipped.
“Good, jokes are good,” Rachel said, laughing.
“What if I screw up?” Santana said, sitting down on the bench behind her.
“You won’t,” Rachel said, sitting down and taking her girlfriend’s hand.
“What if the lawyer trips me up or confuses me? What if I say something that sets White free?”
“You won’t,” Rachel repeated.
“How do you know?” Santana sighed.
“You won’t get tripped up, confused, or set White free because you’re only going to tell the truth. There’s no confusing the truth.”
“I know, but what if - ”
Santana was interrupted when the courtroom door swung open.
“Ms. Lopez, it’s time,” the bailiff said.
Santana nodded as Rachel squeezed her hand and stood up.
“I’ll be right in the front row, between Puck and your mother. If you get freaked out, just look at me. I’ll be there.”
“Okay,” Santana said, taking a deep breath as she followed the bailiff into the courtroom.
Rachel was only a few steps behind her, quietly moving into the seat that Puck had saved for her.
…
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?
“Yes,” Santana said.
“Ms. Lopez you may take the stand,” the judge said. She was a middle aged woman with tight brown curls and horn rimmed glasses. She looked kind, Santana thought idly, as she settled herself.
“Ms. Richardson, your witness,” she said.
The DA nodded, and poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the table near her. “Ms. Lopez, how are you feeling today?”
“I’m fine,” Santana said, accepting the water from the DA.
“That’s good,” Richardson said, pacing slightly in front of the stand. “Let’s just jump right in, then. Can you tell me what happened on the evening of April 12th?”
Santana nodded and took a sip of water. Suddenly, her mouth felt like a desert. “Coach Sylvester kept us at cheerleading practice late. I threw up a few times - cramps on top of a three hour practice - and by the time I was all washed up there was nobody left to drive me home. Since my parents were still at work and it wasn’t too cold, I walked home with my friend Brittany. After I dropped her off, a man grabbed me from behind. I tried to fight him off, but I was so exhausted…from practice and from being sick. He shoved me in the trunk of his car and we drove for a while. When he finally parked and opened the trunk, I tried to fight him off again. I yelled, and I screamed, and I scratched his face. I wanted to get his DNA under my fingernails so I could crucify the fucker.”
“Ms. Lopez, watch your mouth in my courtroom,” the judge warned.
“Sorry, your honor,” Santana said, flushing.
“So you said no to him?” the DA asked.
“I said no. Over and over.”
“You yelled it?”
“Yes.”
“You screamed it, you kicked at him, you scratched him?” ‘
“Yes.”
“So you left no doubt that you were not consenting to his actions?”
“None at all.”
“Thank you. Go on, please.”
Santana nodded. “I tried to figure out where I was when he pulled me inside, but I couldn’t tell. There were no other houses around and we were moving really quickly.”
“What happened next, Ms. Lopez?” Richardson asked.
Santana stopped for a moment and closed her eyes. When she opened them, and saw Rachel sitting there smiling at her, she continued.
“He took me upstairs to the bathroom and cuffed me to the towel bar. I tried to pull myself free, but the cuffs were on too tight. Then he took off my clothes and started to wash me. I screamed and spit at him, but he just kept working. He didn’t get angry. He just smiled.”
Santana stopped and took a long sip of water.
“Go on, Ms. Lopez,” Richardson said.
“When he decided I was clean, he took me downstairs and cuffed me to a radiator. Then he took my clothes and put them in the washing machine in the other room.”
“Objection,” Mr. Lane stood up. “How does she know what he did with the clothes if she was in another room?”
“Your honor, I believe Santana can answer that question,” the DA said.
“Go on, then,” the judge said.
“I heard the machine. I smelled the detergent. And when he finally let me go, my clothes were clean and folded. It’s a logical conclusion,” she said, staring daggers at the defense attorney.
“That’s good enough for me, Mr. Lane,” the judge said. “Continue.”
Santana nodded, glancing at Rachel who was sandwiched between Puck and her mother. She nearly grinned when Rachel discreetly blew her a kiss. Leave it to Rachel to know exactly when she felt like she was going to break.
“When he came back into the room, I tried to kick him. Anything to keep him away from me. I tried to head butt him when he got close to me, but he dodged it. Then…he punched me in the stomach, hard and…I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t catch my breath.”
“Did he say anything to you?” the DA asked.
“He said, ‘I like your spirit, but don’t make me do that again.’”
“Did he sound angry?” the DA questioned.
“No. He was totally calm…which…made it so much scarier.”
“What happened next?”
“He spread my legs and he pushed his fingers inside me,” Santana said shakily. She took a moment to glance at the jury. They looked appalled. She looked back to Rachel and her parents, squished in next to the entire glee club. Even Mr. Schuester was there, glaring at White.
“He touched me everywhere, stretching me, hurting me. After a while, he walked away. I thought…maybe it’s over. Maybe he’s done,” she said, unable to stop herself from looking at the defendant. “I just wanted him to be finished with me.”
“Was he done?”
“No. He just took his clothes off, put on a condom, and came back over to me. He said I could scream, if I wanted.”
“Did you?”
“No. I refused to give him that.”
“That must have been very hard for you, Ms. Lopez,” the DA said. “Didn’t it hurt?”
“Of course it hurt,” Santana said, a tear threatening to spill over. “I was a virgin.”
“You were a virgin?” Richardson asked.
“I was…until he took that from me.”
“So, it hurt, but you didn’t scream?” The DA asked.
“No, I’d screamed enough. It wasn’t going to do any good and I refused to give him that power.”
“Impressive, that kind of will power,” Richardson said, pacing a bit in front of the stand. “I don’t know if I’d be able to do that.”
“I hope you never find out,” Santana said.
Richardson smiled, then continued. “So, after he raped you, he let you go?”
“No. He went back into the other room and put my clothes in the drier - No, I didn’t see him do this, but I heard the clink of my uniform zipper as it went through the cycle. Then he came back in and raped me two more times.”
“So he raped you three times?”
“Yes,” Santana said, watching tears fall down Rachel’s face. Down of her mother’s face. She wished she could wipe them away.
“And then?”
“Then he got dressed, kissed my forehead, told me where my clothes were, and uncuffed me.”
“Did you attempt to fight him off again?”
“No…I just…I didn’t have the strength. I hadn’t been able to fight him off before he raped me…there was no way I’d be strong enough when I was in that much pain.”
“So then what happened?”
“I waited until I heard him drive away, then got dressed and left.”
“And where did you go?”
“I…really don’t know. I walked until I found a street name, then called my friend Brittany’s house. Her mom picked up and I just started crying. I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”
“And then Brittany’s mother came to get you?”
“Yeah, they both did. Brittany and her mom, I mean.”
“And then they took you to the hospital?”
“Yeah, and then called my parents and the police for me. I thought he’d washed everything off of me, but it turns out they found some of his DNA inside me.”
“Objection,” Mr. Lane said, standing up. “Ms. Lopez doesn’t have the necessary medical knowledge to confirm DNA matches.”
“Your honor, Detective Faulkner and Doctor Morales have already testified that the DNA taken during Ms. Lopez’s exam matched the DNA of the defendant.”
“I’ll allow it,” the judge said. “But proceed carefully.”
“Of course, your honor,” Richardson said. “Let’s move on. How have things changed for you since your attack?”
“I…I don’t know how to answer that,” Santana said, tears finally spilling over her cheeks.
“Just answer as best as you can,” the DA said calmly.
“I…I felt broken. Like he took something so much more than my virginity. I got scared every time somebody brushed by me at school.”
“And that’s a departure from the way you felt before the attack?”
“Definitely. I was confident, before. Confident in my ability to take care of myself, to defend myself. People got out of the way when I walked through the hallways.”
“And after?” the DA asked.
“I…kept re-thinking everything that happened. If I’d been stronger, or faster maybe I could have fought him off. I didn’t feel like I could defend myself against anything, anymore. I still don’t.”
“What about your personal relationships?” the DA asked.
“It was hard, for a really long time,” Santana said. “I flinched every time somebody tried to touch me - even in the most innocent ways - for months. But it got better, day by day. My parents helped me get through so much of the pain. Brittany and her parents, too. I’ve had an extremely solid network of friends and teachers with me every day.”
“Yes, Detective Faulkner already testified that you had an entire group of people with you when you identified the defendant in a line-up.”
Santana chuckled. “I tried to tell them I could do it alone, but they wouldn’t let me.”
“I just have one more question for you, Ms. Lopez,” the DA said. “Is the person that attacked and raped you in this room?”
“Yes,” Santana said, sitting up straight in her seat.
“For the benefit of the jury, can you point him out for me?”
“It was him,” Santana said, looking John White right in the eyes.
“No further questions,” the DA said.
“Very well,” the judge said. “Your witness, Mr. Lane.”
Pairing: Rachel/Santana
Rating: R fort this part
Word Count: 1824Spoliers: 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.
**Okay, so I think the story is winding to a close, or will be in the next few chapters. All of your comments have meant so much to me. Knowing that I'm able to make a difference, even if its a teeny tiny difference, makes all the hard work worthwhile. Please continue to let me know how you think I'm doing. You're all the best!**
Santana paced outside the courtroom, waiting for the bailiff to call her inside.
“You need to calm down,” Rachel said, placing her hands on Santana’s shoulders and gently rubbing. “You’re about to burn a hole in the floor.”
“With me feet or my flaming homosexuality?” Santana quipped.
“Good, jokes are good,” Rachel said, laughing.
“What if I screw up?” Santana said, sitting down on the bench behind her.
“You won’t,” Rachel said, sitting down and taking her girlfriend’s hand.
“What if the lawyer trips me up or confuses me? What if I say something that sets White free?”
“You won’t,” Rachel repeated.
“How do you know?” Santana sighed.
“You won’t get tripped up, confused, or set White free because you’re only going to tell the truth. There’s no confusing the truth.”
“I know, but what if - ”
Santana was interrupted when the courtroom door swung open.
“Ms. Lopez, it’s time,” the bailiff said.
Santana nodded as Rachel squeezed her hand and stood up.
“I’ll be right in the front row, between Puck and your mother. If you get freaked out, just look at me. I’ll be there.”
“Okay,” Santana said, taking a deep breath as she followed the bailiff into the courtroom.
Rachel was only a few steps behind her, quietly moving into the seat that Puck had saved for her.
…
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?
“Yes,” Santana said.
“Ms. Lopez you may take the stand,” the judge said. She was a middle aged woman with tight brown curls and horn rimmed glasses. She looked kind, Santana thought idly, as she settled herself.
“Ms. Richardson, your witness,” she said.
The DA nodded, and poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the table near her. “Ms. Lopez, how are you feeling today?”
“I’m fine,” Santana said, accepting the water from the DA.
“That’s good,” Richardson said, pacing slightly in front of the stand. “Let’s just jump right in, then. Can you tell me what happened on the evening of April 12th?”
Santana nodded and took a sip of water. Suddenly, her mouth felt like a desert. “Coach Sylvester kept us at cheerleading practice late. I threw up a few times - cramps on top of a three hour practice - and by the time I was all washed up there was nobody left to drive me home. Since my parents were still at work and it wasn’t too cold, I walked home with my friend Brittany. After I dropped her off, a man grabbed me from behind. I tried to fight him off, but I was so exhausted…from practice and from being sick. He shoved me in the trunk of his car and we drove for a while. When he finally parked and opened the trunk, I tried to fight him off again. I yelled, and I screamed, and I scratched his face. I wanted to get his DNA under my fingernails so I could crucify the fucker.”
“Ms. Lopez, watch your mouth in my courtroom,” the judge warned.
“Sorry, your honor,” Santana said, flushing.
“So you said no to him?” the DA asked.
“I said no. Over and over.”
“You yelled it?”
“Yes.”
“You screamed it, you kicked at him, you scratched him?” ‘
“Yes.”
“So you left no doubt that you were not consenting to his actions?”
“None at all.”
“Thank you. Go on, please.”
Santana nodded. “I tried to figure out where I was when he pulled me inside, but I couldn’t tell. There were no other houses around and we were moving really quickly.”
“What happened next, Ms. Lopez?” Richardson asked.
Santana stopped for a moment and closed her eyes. When she opened them, and saw Rachel sitting there smiling at her, she continued.
“He took me upstairs to the bathroom and cuffed me to the towel bar. I tried to pull myself free, but the cuffs were on too tight. Then he took off my clothes and started to wash me. I screamed and spit at him, but he just kept working. He didn’t get angry. He just smiled.”
Santana stopped and took a long sip of water.
“Go on, Ms. Lopez,” Richardson said.
“When he decided I was clean, he took me downstairs and cuffed me to a radiator. Then he took my clothes and put them in the washing machine in the other room.”
“Objection,” Mr. Lane stood up. “How does she know what he did with the clothes if she was in another room?”
“Your honor, I believe Santana can answer that question,” the DA said.
“Go on, then,” the judge said.
“I heard the machine. I smelled the detergent. And when he finally let me go, my clothes were clean and folded. It’s a logical conclusion,” she said, staring daggers at the defense attorney.
“That’s good enough for me, Mr. Lane,” the judge said. “Continue.”
Santana nodded, glancing at Rachel who was sandwiched between Puck and her mother. She nearly grinned when Rachel discreetly blew her a kiss. Leave it to Rachel to know exactly when she felt like she was going to break.
“When he came back into the room, I tried to kick him. Anything to keep him away from me. I tried to head butt him when he got close to me, but he dodged it. Then…he punched me in the stomach, hard and…I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t catch my breath.”
“Did he say anything to you?” the DA asked.
“He said, ‘I like your spirit, but don’t make me do that again.’”
“Did he sound angry?” the DA questioned.
“No. He was totally calm…which…made it so much scarier.”
“What happened next?”
“He spread my legs and he pushed his fingers inside me,” Santana said shakily. She took a moment to glance at the jury. They looked appalled. She looked back to Rachel and her parents, squished in next to the entire glee club. Even Mr. Schuester was there, glaring at White.
“He touched me everywhere, stretching me, hurting me. After a while, he walked away. I thought…maybe it’s over. Maybe he’s done,” she said, unable to stop herself from looking at the defendant. “I just wanted him to be finished with me.”
“Was he done?”
“No. He just took his clothes off, put on a condom, and came back over to me. He said I could scream, if I wanted.”
“Did you?”
“No. I refused to give him that.”
“That must have been very hard for you, Ms. Lopez,” the DA said. “Didn’t it hurt?”
“Of course it hurt,” Santana said, a tear threatening to spill over. “I was a virgin.”
“You were a virgin?” Richardson asked.
“I was…until he took that from me.”
“So, it hurt, but you didn’t scream?” The DA asked.
“No, I’d screamed enough. It wasn’t going to do any good and I refused to give him that power.”
“Impressive, that kind of will power,” Richardson said, pacing a bit in front of the stand. “I don’t know if I’d be able to do that.”
“I hope you never find out,” Santana said.
Richardson smiled, then continued. “So, after he raped you, he let you go?”
“No. He went back into the other room and put my clothes in the drier - No, I didn’t see him do this, but I heard the clink of my uniform zipper as it went through the cycle. Then he came back in and raped me two more times.”
“So he raped you three times?”
“Yes,” Santana said, watching tears fall down Rachel’s face. Down of her mother’s face. She wished she could wipe them away.
“And then?”
“Then he got dressed, kissed my forehead, told me where my clothes were, and uncuffed me.”
“Did you attempt to fight him off again?”
“No…I just…I didn’t have the strength. I hadn’t been able to fight him off before he raped me…there was no way I’d be strong enough when I was in that much pain.”
“So then what happened?”
“I waited until I heard him drive away, then got dressed and left.”
“And where did you go?”
“I…really don’t know. I walked until I found a street name, then called my friend Brittany’s house. Her mom picked up and I just started crying. I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”
“And then Brittany’s mother came to get you?”
“Yeah, they both did. Brittany and her mom, I mean.”
“And then they took you to the hospital?”
“Yeah, and then called my parents and the police for me. I thought he’d washed everything off of me, but it turns out they found some of his DNA inside me.”
“Objection,” Mr. Lane said, standing up. “Ms. Lopez doesn’t have the necessary medical knowledge to confirm DNA matches.”
“Your honor, Detective Faulkner and Doctor Morales have already testified that the DNA taken during Ms. Lopez’s exam matched the DNA of the defendant.”
“I’ll allow it,” the judge said. “But proceed carefully.”
“Of course, your honor,” Richardson said. “Let’s move on. How have things changed for you since your attack?”
“I…I don’t know how to answer that,” Santana said, tears finally spilling over her cheeks.
“Just answer as best as you can,” the DA said calmly.
“I…I felt broken. Like he took something so much more than my virginity. I got scared every time somebody brushed by me at school.”
“And that’s a departure from the way you felt before the attack?”
“Definitely. I was confident, before. Confident in my ability to take care of myself, to defend myself. People got out of the way when I walked through the hallways.”
“And after?” the DA asked.
“I…kept re-thinking everything that happened. If I’d been stronger, or faster maybe I could have fought him off. I didn’t feel like I could defend myself against anything, anymore. I still don’t.”
“What about your personal relationships?” the DA asked.
“It was hard, for a really long time,” Santana said. “I flinched every time somebody tried to touch me - even in the most innocent ways - for months. But it got better, day by day. My parents helped me get through so much of the pain. Brittany and her parents, too. I’ve had an extremely solid network of friends and teachers with me every day.”
“Yes, Detective Faulkner already testified that you had an entire group of people with you when you identified the defendant in a line-up.”
Santana chuckled. “I tried to tell them I could do it alone, but they wouldn’t let me.”
“I just have one more question for you, Ms. Lopez,” the DA said. “Is the person that attacked and raped you in this room?”
“Yes,” Santana said, sitting up straight in her seat.
“For the benefit of the jury, can you point him out for me?”
“It was him,” Santana said, looking John White right in the eyes.
“No further questions,” the DA said.
“Very well,” the judge said. “Your witness, Mr. Lane.”