(no subject)
Title: Unexpected Salvation: Chapter Seven
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Rachel Berry /Santana Lopez. Pezberry
Rating: NC-17 for bad language and sexual themes. It isn’t terribly graphic but it has some talk of sexual acts. Violence against woman will be an issue as well.
Word Length: 30,000+
Spoilers: All aired episodes to be sure, though I changed some things around. If you are just gushing to see the musical “Oliver” and don’t want it spoiled then I suggest you skip the second therapy session.
Summary: Santana let Rachel go after high school in hopes that the girl she loved would follow her dreams. When they have a chance meeting ten years later, Santana sees that it is not the case at all. Her little diva has changed and not completely for the best.
Chapter summary: A little bit of therapy, a dash of school, and a decision that should have been made forever ago.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, Fox and Ryan Murphy do. Neither do I own the musical “Oliver”. I only own the weirdness in my head.
A/N: For the purposes of this fic, While Lauren is around, Kurt never left. The Cheerios never left the squad. No beta so mistakes are my own. Thanks to Dylandahlgren for all the input and help.
Thank you readers that are still sticking this ride out with me. I greatly appreciate your comments.
Chapter seven- How to Save a Life
Rachel finally called her fathers to clue them in on her situation. She’d downplayed things to the best of her ability and didn’t mention the past abuse at all. Her dads were insistent upon coming to Chicago to be by her side but she begged them to stay away. She wanted their comfort, however, the thought of being seen the way she was by yet more people she loved was too difficult to think about. They agreed to stay away because Rachel had made it seem as if it was a minor domestic dispute that would soon be handled.
In truth the only reason she called was to make sure that they hadn’t and wouldn’t discuss her with Jimmy if he tried to reach out to them. She also wanted them to contact her if he were to do so. Unfortunately she found that even though she told them not to, she resented that they didn’t anyway. She wasn’t surprised that they deferred to her will because it seemed as if they had lost genuine interest in her as she approached her teen years and just never seemed to get it back. She knew they loved her, but sometimes she wished they’d make more of an effort.
It had turned out that he had hired a private investigator to find her. The man wasn’t a bad guy, he was just gullible. Jimmy had told him that his wife had taken his daughter and his only interest was getting his little girl back from her addict mother. He’d signed a contract that said he wouldn’t physically resort to violence against anyone after the investigator gave him the information he sought.
The theory was that Jimmy had been making plans to force his wife to go away with him and their daughter to a secluded area but once he got hold of the divorce papers he’d been set off. He’d cleared his checking and savings accounts and had headed to Chicago to collect his family the day of the attack. When Rachel resisted he lost what little sanity he had left. It was unclear as to why he didn’t take Paige with him, but they were all glad that he hadn’t.
Rachel was going to be in the hospital for no less than three weeks for Intervenes antibiotics and pain management purposes. It was going to be some months before she was going to be healed, however, with decent medication in addition to physical therapy; she was expected to recover fairly well. Normally a patient with broken femur would be encouraged to do light walking on crutches within the first couple of days of surgery, however, with Rachel’s other injuries, it had to be put off for a while.
Quinn and Brittany flew to their respective homes and resumed work until Rachel was released from the hospital. They decided to that it would be their best course of action once they realized Rachel would be taken care of for a couple of weeks, but the day that the doctors had projected the little brunette could go home, they happily returned. Puck hung around until a few days after Rachel was set up at Santana’s house before he returned to Harrington, though he called her three times a day. The police were going to be driving by the house regularly for a few weeks to make sure Rachel and Paige were safe, though both Santana and Puck felt like a cop should be stationed outside twenty-four seven.
Puck ended up cutting his losses and gave Santana one hundred and twenty bucks to have changed to quarters for Paige in his absents, though Santana took credit for it with the little girl. There was no way she would allow Puck to outdo her. Brittany and Quinn knew Santana enough to do their own exchanges, which they did upon their return. Rachel had begun to vehemently complain about the arrangement once she allowed herself to calculate how much money her little girl was acquiring. She found it utterly ridiculous for a five year old to be in possession of that much money. Eventually she was willing to compromise by insisting that the money go into a college fund for her daughter, to which both Santana and Puck agreed with fingers crossed behind their backs.
Paige had ideas of her own and had taken to filling socks that her uncle left in the laundry with her quarters, claiming that her pillowcase was too full and so were the second and third ones. She liked being able to pick her money up without spilling it everywhere. It was odd but the adults indulged it because after everything the girl went through, she deserved to have a few weird quarks and really, it could have been much worse.
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Four Weeks at Santana’s
Rachel thought physical therapy was a bitch. It was taxing on her body and moving around hurt like hell. She didn’t like the overly bubbly girl who insisted on talking entirely too much. The other woman was twenty-three almost as tall as Brittany and had way too many puppy dogs and rainbows coming out of her mouth. She would not shut up. Rachel cringed whenever the woman would come in contact with her. She anticipated Julie’s rants and tried desperately to tune out when the woman started going on and on about how wonderful her success rate was. “I was at the top of my class,” the annoying, curly- haired, dirty blonde would say. “You really lucked out with my superior skills. I’ll have you running laps in no time, well after we get you walking without extra support.” The short brunette found that all she wanted was lock the woman up in a small confined space, never to be heard from again. A basement perhaps? She could not wait to get away from the nut-job she was forced to spend three days a week with.
It took until the seventh appointment for it to hit her all at once. She had been well aware that back in high school her personality was somewhat of an acquired taste but WOW! When Quinn picked her up that afternoon, she was bombarded with “I’m so sorry I put you all through that’s and 'I can’t believe I was so damn annoying’s. It took two and a half hours for Quinn to assure the younger woman that she was not as bad as her crazy physical therapist.
Seven Weeks at Santana’s
If physical therapy was hard, the therapy regarding her mental health was ten times more uncomfortable. As a child she had plenty of therapy regarding living in small town Ohio with two same-sexed parents and dealing with the poor treatment she’d been exposed to as a result of it. She had dealt with her childhood problems head on for years and it hadn’t been anywhere near this intimidating. As a child she was told that things weren’t her fault. She was assured that people had closed minds and was merely given someone who would listen to her problems and then return the favor by giving her tools to work through them. Now, however, she was absolutely sure that the doctor sitting across from her was going to repeat everything she’d told herself over the years. She hadn’t been lying when she told Santana that she’d believed she was a good mother. She had meant it completely at the time, but she also had a way of changing her mind about these things on a fairly regular basis. One day she was the worst mother alive, the next she was a pretty damn good one, and then the next day she could be just plain indifferent about her mothering.
Rachel had only been included in one of Paige’s therapy sessions thus far. The doctor explained that they would need some sessions together; however, the child needed a safe place to vent without worrying about her mother’s feelings. Rachel was uncharacteristically okay with that because her daughter’s health was more important to her than her need to know every detail of the sessions. The one session she’d joined her daughter in was, in Rachel’s mind, a bit redundant because Paige hadn’t revealed anything she hadn’t already spoken about. The session was more or less rehashing old news, while her daughter played with the dolls provided by Dr. Hallstead. The doctor told her that it was progress because, while Paige was rehashing things, it was becoming easier for her to do so without getting upset. The former singer took the doctor at her word.
But now, when it was her turn to be mentally prodded, she was a mess of nerves.
“So,” the short black woman began. “We’ve spent our last couple of sessions in near silence.”
“Yes,” Rachel mumbled back confirmation.
“You were doing pretty well with talking about the abuse you’ve endured at the hands of your husband and how it made you feel but as soon as topics of the miscarriage or your childhood come up, you get quiet.”
“I’m not discussing the baby,” Rachel said as if scolding a child. “As far as my childhood goes, I’ve already dealt with that stuff,” she assured. "I had a great one. The teen years had a lot of bumps but I had therapy back then to help.”
“So your parents found it necessary for you to see someone?”
“Lisa, I lived in a small town full of small minded people. They were gay. Kids get teased. It was inevitable,” Rachel replied with no real emotion.
“How did it feel?” The woman asked before taking a sip of her tea.
“It hurt at first but then I learned to deal with it. I knew I wasn’t going to be stuck in that place forever.”
“It’s hard for a child to look past right now and look to a future where things can be better,” replied the therapist.
“Not for me,” Rachel said with a small swell of pride. “I had a goal set from the time I was a toddler. I had my eye on the prize all the time. I focused on School of course but I threw all of myself into dancing, acting, and singing. I was one of my glee club captains and I poured everything I could into it.”
“You were a big fan of the preforming arts as a child as well?”
“As long as I can remember. I wanted to make it big on Broadway. Everything I did was just a stepping stone to make it happen. I wanted to be as good as Barbra. Everyone in my high school knew because I’d never let them forget it.” the small brunette said with a sad smile.”
“Did you allow yourself anytime to make friends with all that drive?”
“I made a few. It took some time but I managed to gain friendships through the glee club. I was really pushy and competitive so I wasn’t the easiest person to spend time with,” Rachel admitted. “Most of them were at the bottom of the social hierarchy so we were bound to fall into one another’s orbits.”
“All kind of in the same boat?”
“A few popular kids were able to maintain a decent social status, some went up and down but for the most part, we were the losers and I was at the bottom of the heap.”
“Because you were…”
“Bossy,” Rachel cut in. “Annoying, intense, too wordy, couldn’t dress myself, too ugly, should have been sterilized.” Rachel’s laugh was bitter. She was disappointed in herself for allowing old feelings to become present ones. She was supposed to have been over all of these issues years ago. She currently had much more important things to think about.
The other woman nodded toward the box of Kleenex sitting next to her patient. Rachel plucked a tissue from the floral box and dabbed at her eyes.
“Did you tell anyone?”
It was a simple question, but it made Rachel angry. “Other than my therapist, who would I tell, my parents? I love them but when I hit fourteen they were barely around. The school faculty sat around and watched as students were called horrible names, hit with slushies and tossed into dumpsters. There was nobody to tell,” she snapped. Rachel’s outrage began to dissipate at the recognition of her attitude. She had reverted back to her drama queen mode, yet displayed something new as well. She was not at all impressed with herself. “Sorry about that. I tend to get a little overly dramatic about things.” She said apologetically.
“No need to be sorry, Rachel,” the dark woman spoke soothingly. “I want to know how these things make you feel, even if they were a long time ago.”
“I couldn’t change what people said or did to me, but I could be in charge of me. I could exercise, and eat the way I needed to. I could practice more than anyone else, get rid of threats when need be. I was driven because that’s all I had, until……”
“Until what?”
“There were boys that I threw myself into, but it didn’t throw me off of my focus. I may have obsessed over them a bit but Broadway was always my first love. But then there was this girl.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. We were not friend in the slightest. She was a cheerleader. She hated me and I was not very fond of her, but one day we started forging this friendship and it eventually became more. She got me to loosen up. She was the first of anyone I dated to actually stand up for me without hesitation.” She smiled as she thought about what once was. “I was a loser but I did date the quarterback on and off for a while. He never made me feel as good as she did. Anything she ever did to hurt me before we dated, she made up for ten-fold.” Rachel inhaled a long overdue breath before finally saying out loud what she’d never though she voice.” Before her the only time I didn’t feel worthless was when I was focusing on my craft, but she changed all that.”
“Let’s back up for a moment. What do you mean when you say you got rid of threats?”
“I was extremely competitive. I fought for solos like they were all I had. Sometimes I felt like they were. There was this girl who was really good; maybe even better than me, not that I would admit it at the time. She was going to audition for the glee club. I felt threatened so I gave her a false address.” Rachel looked to her lap feeling the shame as if she’d just been found out during her junior year.
“That was extreme,” the therapist stated plainly.
“No, the fact that I sent her to a crack house was extreme, not that it was active though.”
“Being the best meant so much to you that you were willing to put someone else in danger?” It wasn’t said in an accusatory manner. It was just recognition of what was said.
“Yes. I made peace with her but that’s what everyone will remember about me.”
“Doing what it takes to achieve your goals is understandable, but what made you take it that far?”
“I told you before. Being the star made me feel worthwhile. She would have ruined that for me.”
Surely there were other things that made you happy?”
Rachel shook her head earnestly. “When I was in relationships with boys, I fixated on them because I always felt like they were just waiting on something better to come along, but I still had the stage. There I could believe that there was no one better. Even when people made me feel like crap in the school hallways, I could tell myself that it was okay because one day none of it would matter. I would be a star and they would be stuck in Ohio living mediocre lives.”
“You said that you calmed down when you became involved with the girl,” the doctor said.
“Santana,” Rachel stated. “Yes. I wasn’t afraid to just let things be. I knew she wasn’t going anywhere, which is crazy because she could have had her pick and she was good friends with two of her ex bed buddies. When we got together she always made me feel special. Even when we fought I knew we’d get through it.”
“It isn’t the healthiest to hinge your self-worth on other people’s opinions of you.”
“Don’t we all? When people hate us, it makes us feel like less than. I grew up being hated. I may have hidden how much it hurt, but it did.”
“I’m proud of you. You’re making real progress. We still have work to do but this is the first time you’ve delved into your teen years and you admitted that it was hard on you.”
“Um, thanks,” was Rachel’s reply. “I do want to get better.”
“I never had any doubt of that. This isn’t court ordered so I know you’re here of your own free will,” said the therapist.
Throughout her sessions, Rachel realized that her therapist was much harder to manipulate than the ones she had as a child and then a teen. She’d been able to limit the sessions to current events related to taunts and humiliation back then. Now, however, she found herself talking about feelings she’d never planned to express from her past and present. When she asked how any of it pertained to her current issues, her doctor merely said that it all ties into the choices she’d made. Rather than fight it, she chose to do all she could to ‘fix’ herself, so that she could be the mother she wanted to be. So she discussed her mommy issues, her past boyfriends, and random sexual encounters. She talked about what seemed like everything from her compulsive need to be center of attention as a kid, to her feeling her bones break as her husband shouted obscenities at her.
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The end of August was nearing which meant that Paige would be starting Kindergarten. All the women were excited for the girl’s first day of school; however, they all feared that Jimmy was just biding his time until he had an opening to snatch her. Suffice it to say, all six of them were present during the registration process and a long meeting was held between them, Mrs. Hodges, Mr. Merrill, and Ms. Briton; Paige’s soon to be principal, vice principal, and teacher. Paige was never to wait outside of her classroom or the school office to be picked up and only one of the six were permitted to pick her up. Rachel almost felt bad for the three educators as they were nearly ambushed by a very intense Erin, Quinn, and Santana, who mentioned her law degree on more than once occasion, alongside Brittany who was trying to remind her two oldest friends that they had to keep their temper. Then there was Nomi, who also enjoyed mentioning that she wrote freelance articles for local papers and Rachel herself, who twitched nervously in her seat. By the end of it all a strict protocol was set in place for Paige at school.
The first day had been nerve wrecking for all of them, except Paige that is. She had been incredibly excited to go. Rachel, Santana, Erin, and Brittany all ended up on drop off duty. The only reason Quinn didn’t complain that there wasn’t room for her in the car was because she got the pleasure of picking her up along with Rachel, Brittany and Nomi.
The four of them walked the hyper child to class and all received quick pecks on the cheek before the little ball of energy skipped to the table seating two other girls that Ms. Briton instructed her to sit. Rachel and Erin dabbed at silent tears all the way to Santana’s office. The Latina wiped at her eyes every so often but refused to acknowledge it. Brittany was a little on edge about Jimmy, the same as the rest, but she was probably just as excited as Paige about school so she was the one that was bouncing about. Her presence was greatly appreciated, especially at times like this. She reminded them that it was okay to allow the significance of the milestone to outweigh the fear in the back of their minds.
Once the Latina was dropped off at work, Brittany and Erin took Rachel to yet another therapy session.
RSRSRSRSRSRSRS
“It’s Paige’s first day of school,” the small woman blurted without prompting or coaxing.
“And what are you feeling about that?”
“Anxious, scared, happy, sad, worried, proud. I can’t even settle on one,” Rachel said dumbfounded. “Why can’t I pick one feeling and go with it?”
“Who says you have to?” Lisa replied. “There’s no rule that says you can’t feel many feelings at once. Why don’t we address why it is you feel each of your feelings.”
“Okay well,” Rachel took a deep breath. “I’m happy, sad, and proud for the same reasons. My baby is growing up. Soon she’ll going to her first day of middle school, and then high school, college.”
“That’s perfectly normal. Most parents go through those feelings,” the woman reassured, but not wanting to disregard the Jewish woman’s feelings she added, “But know that they are very legitimate feeling whether they’re common or not.”
Rachel nodded. “I’m worried and scared because my ex is still skulking about and even though I’ve made the precautions to keep my kid safe, I can’t help but be a bit apprehensive. So I can’t wait until 11:45 so that I can see for myself that everything went well.”
“That’s also understandable for what you two have been through because of him.”
“I realize that. I don’t think I would have a few months ago though. I think I would have thought that I was wrong to have those feelings.” For the first time in a long time Rachel was proud of herself. She recognized that she was slowly climbing out of the whole that was her life as Jimmy’s wife and becoming her own again.
Lisa flipped through her notes. “Did you follow through on your homework from last week?”
“I did. I’m actually really happy that I did. It’s been a long time since I did something on my own for just me.”
“This is why I asked you to find something to do on your own to enjoy. Do you feel comfortable telling me what you did?”
“I went to see a community production of ‘Oliver,’ I haven’t been to a play since I was last in one. It’s been nearly six years.” Rachel gave a shy smile.
“And you enjoyed it?”
“Well it was pretty good for a local production,” Rachel started, “though I do believe that I could have portrayed a much better Nancy.” Rachel surprised herself with her answer. She hadn’t been the girl that would say something like that in years. Nor had she let herself think of being on the stage again.
The other woman chuckled at the response. “I’m sure you could have.”
Rachel took a few moments contemplating whether or not she wanted to bring up the subject in her mind, but eventually decided to do so. She wasn’t going to get better if she couldn’t be honest about this. “I knew what the play was about but I went to see it anyway.” The therapist was about to ask her what the significance was just as the brunette continued. “There’s this scene where Nancy is beaten to death by her boyfriend, Bill Sykes. It isn’t graphic or anything but I wanted to see if I could handle it.”
“And could you?”
“I cried. It hurt to see so I cried,” she answered feeling a flush of embarrassment.
“It was an honest feeling, Rachel. You’ve spent a lot of time hiding your negative feelings. I think this was a great start.”
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That afternoon Rachel, Quinn, Nomi, and Brittany were regaled with tales of life in Kindergarten. They got to hear all about the class goldfish who was dubbed Henry by the students. There was chatter about Leanne and Jacquelyn who sit at her table in class and are now her best friends, and how Jacquelyn likes to be called Jack because she thinks it’s a cooler name. Leanne was apparently a master with crayons because she could draw dogs better than anyone in their class. That evening when the remaining members of their group showed up for dinner, the stories were recounted once again.
It wasn’t until the next week that their first issue with school came up. Paige had come home in a foul mood with a note in hand stating that she had a verbal altercation with another student and had been given a warning. Rachel tried to talk about it with her daughter but the girl was tight lipped. The mother was trying to find the balance between normal childhood disputes and potential abusive traits. Her kid was most definitely feisty. She wasn’t the type to roll over and be walked all over, which Rachel admired in the child, however she didn’t want her kid to be a bully and she wasn’t sure how to even it all out. “Baby you have to consider other people’s feelings,” Rachel said as sweetly as she could, trying not to sound accusatory.
“I did,” the child whined.
“How so?”
Paige didn’t answer and refused to discuss it any further; that is until Santana came home and was informed of the situation. “What’s up, tiny tot? Mommy told me you had a lot going on today.” The little girl was sitting on the bed in the room she’d claimed as her own, playing with one of the socks she’d filled with quarters. Santana could see that she was thinking deeply about something. “I heard that you’re not talking about it but we can’t understand if you don’t let us know what’s going on in the brilliant brain of yours.”
“Mommy will be sad if I tell her,” the little girl said quietly.
“Tell you what,” The lawyer said as she sat down next to her tiny tot. “Why don’t you try it out on me and then we’ll figure out the best way to tell mommy?”
Paige nodded and faced the woman. “Me and Jack and Leanne were playing on the swings and Josh wanted to play on one. Jack told them we were there first and then Josh said her shirt was ugly, so I told him his face was ugly. Then he said I had a big nose, so I said he had ears like a monkey. Then Leanne told him to go away and he told her that he didn’t have to. Then he started making fun of Jack because she likes to be called a boy’s name. We tried to ignore him but then he said that we were too stupid to tie our own shoes so I told him that I would ram my shoe strings down his throat. That’s when the teacher on playground duty took us to our class and we had to miss the rest of recess.”
Santana listened to the breakdown of what had happened without interruption. She wasn’t completely sure how to handle the situation because it reminded her of her own playground run-ins. All she could do is stifle her inner laughter the best she could and go with, “Sweetie, I’m proud of you for standing up for your friends and yourself, but we have to try our best on to make other people feel bad. Just because Josh was being mean doesn’t mean that you should be.” She gave her younger companion a hug before continuing. “Maybe we can work on ways to deal with these things without hurting other people’s feelings, or at least not threating people." Paige gave up a little smile. “Hey I understand. I used to be pretty bad about that kind of stuff but I waited a really long time before I tried to change it. You’re a lot smarter than I was because you’re going to start working on it now, right?”
“Right,” Paige said proudly.
“Now I think I feel like getting out some,” she started out prolonging the last word, “tickling.” The Latina brought the child into a fit of giggles laughs and gasps.
Rachel watched through the little open space of the bedroom door as her two favorite girls enjoyed their time together. It fit so wonderfully into place. This is what she’d always wanted, a safe place with the person she loved and a child to complete the picture. Sure she wanted fame but this dream was ever present as a companion to it. Why was she holding back so much? She knew the logical reasons but it all sounded so… well for lack of a better word, idiotic in her head as she watched the scene before her.
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The time on the digital clock read 3:26 when Santana woke up to hear Rachel shifting in her bed before the sound of a glass clinked against the nightstand. She listened in silence and stared off into the darkness, waiting for any sign of distress. When Rachel was feeling down, she felt the urge to drink a glass of water so she went to bed with one every night in case a nightmare surfaced.
“You’re staring,” she heard from the other woman as she situated herself on her back.
“I like to stare at you,” she said quietly.
“You can’t even see me,” was the retort.
“Guess I’ll just have to use my imagination.”
Rachel chuckled at that for a brief moment and then proceeded to settle into the silence. Santana closed her eyes once more and made an attempt to go back to sleep. A few minutes in the silence was once again ended by the other woman.
“It was a boy,” Rachel said plainly.
“What?”
“I was seventeen weeks in when I lost him. I’d just found out his sex a few days earlier.”
Santana squinted in the dark for a few seconds before it hit her. They hadn’t really discussed the issue much. “I’m so…”
Rachel interrupted her words. She didn’t raise her voice, or show emotion in her words. She simply continued. “I wanted to name him Parker Scott. I thought it would be cute if he had the same initials as his big sister.” She took a moment to try and choke down the sadness that was bubbling up and then allowed herself to go on. “We had this neighbor, Mr. Wallace. Mid fifties, a widower. He reminded me of dad Hiram. They had the same build.” the small brunette sniffled. He was a sweet guy, but lonely. We used to have little chats about random things like gardening or books, things like that.”
“Sounds like a nice man.”
“He was,” Rachel confirmed. I imagine he still is. I haven’t talked with him since that day. We were talking on his front porch. I don’t even remember what about. Jimmy came home from some business lunch and he was pretty happy. He was buzzed and he was always a happy drunk. He said hi to us with a huge smile on his face, twirled me around and gave me a kiss. He told Mr. Wallace that it was good to see him and went into the house. I talked for about ten more minutes and then went inside to get my purse and car keys because it was getting close to time to pick Paige up from her play date. This time I just didn’t see it coming. He was usually sober when he flew off the handle like that. Apparently I have a tattoo on my forehead that says 'I sleep around with every man I smile at or have a conversation with.’ All of a sudden my face and side were getting quite acquainted with a wall.”
The grinding of Santana’s teeth was hardly subtle but Rachel seemed to be in some kind of trance that compelled her to finish her story regardless. “I said he beat me before, but now that I think of it, it was more like being swung around. I couldn’t tell you which one did it; one of the wall encounters, or maybe the falling over the chair trying to get away. I suppose it could have been when I tried to fight back and ended up falling on my ass in the bathroom with Paige’s plastic baseball bat. All I know is that not too long after he tore out of there all pissed off, I felt like my belly was being set fire to from the inside out and there was blood. I remember thinking I was already late picking up Paige and I was going to get blood all over the place when I got out of that bathtub.” The former diva let out what could only be described as a sadistic laugh. “He came back I don’t know how long later and found me in the tub. He said that Paige was staying the night with her friend. Then he went and changed into some sweats and he picked me up and took me to my car and lay me down in the back seat. He started to cry and apologize while he drove. When we got to the ER he said that I’d been mugged and I went along with it. Even filed a false police report.”
“Son of a bitch,” the Latina muttered angrily.
“When I told Shelby she said, ‘Why didn’t you just give the guy your damn purse, Rachel?” Rachel gave an exaggerated impression of her biological mother. “I actually laughed because I would have said the same thing in her place.”
“Rache….”
“My dads wanted to come and be with me but I told them not to. Everyone thought I was being so cold because I wouldn’t cry. Even Jimmy cried for our son. When he realized his boy was gone, god I’d never seen him so broken.” Santana wanted to scream that he only cried for his guilt, but she didn’t want to stop Rachel from finally talking about it. “Erin was the only one that wasn’t standing by judging me because I wasn’t a wreck. But you see I knew from the moment I felt the burn in my gut that he was gone. I knew but if I had started to cry about it, I wouldn’t have stopped. My daughter had lost her brother and she needed me to be strong for her.” Rachel felt the tears spill over.
“You lost a son too. You are allowed to morn him,” Santana said as she slipped out of her bed and felt her way over to the one Rachel was occupying.
“I plotted instead. I started planning on leaving and…..and.” The tears were full force as the lawyer placed herself in the bed next to Rachel and held her close.
“Just feel what you have to feel.”
“I fucking hate him!” Rachel tried to keep her voice low, as not to disturb the other occupants of the house in their slumber, though her voice had considerably risen.
“That makes more people than I can count,” whispered the Hispanic woman.
“My little boy died and we got to go on living like it didn’t matter. My Parker can’t ever come back and they think I don’t care,” The smaller brunette sobbed into Santana without restraint. “But I did. I promise I loved him so much.”
“I know you did, baby,” Santana said with a determination. “Everyone that matters knows that you loved him.”
“They don’t even know he was a boy. I just couldn’t tell them,” Rachel choked out. "But he was my boy and I would have done anything for him, San. I wanted to be his mom so much.”
“And he knows that. You know that. Honey, you have always been capable of so much love.”
“I don’t want to waste any more time.” Rachel said through crocodile tears.
“On what, babe?”
“On being too scared to move on. I’m getting better Santana. I know I am and I want to be with you.”
Santana leaned in to close to Rachel and said, “You always have been Rach.” Even in the dark they managed to find each other’s lips. It was soft, new, and familiar all at once. Rachel was the one who dominated the kiss by demanding Santana to part her lips so that her tongue could gain entrance. The Latina gladly allowed it, knowing that Rachel needed to have this control. Santana took in the smell of the Vanilla shampoo the other woman used on her hair and melted further into bliss.
After what was not nearly long enough the smaller woman broke the kiss. “I can’t stand the thought of being apart from you. I don’t want to ever go through that again.”
“Then I guess we’re stuck with each other,” the Latina cooed, wrapping herself around Rachel the best she could.
“I guess so.” The pair drifted off to sleep with a certain comfort that had eluded them for far too long.
TBC.....