LbN: Thank you so much to everyone who read/reviewed/favorited/followed. Much love! There will be a sequel to this ;)

Rachel woke to the sound of shuffling paper. When she opened her eyes, she saw a woman sitting next to her bed, reading a book.

"Good morning, little one," she said, smiling at her. She set the book down on the end table and took Rachel's hand. "How are you feeling?"

"…okay…" Rachel groaned. "My head…where's Santana?" she asked, panic gripping her.

"Hush…. Santana is fine. She had to have her own room while she was recovering."

"Why?"

"She needed blood, and lots of it. It wouldn't have been safe for her to be near you then."

"She's okay then?"

The woman nodded. "Forgive me, I should reintroduce myself. I am Liza, the clan's Alpha. You were…er…incapacitated when we first met."

"What happened?"

"Edmund and Paul and the others found Santana in time. You two were…feeding off each other's anxiety, for lack of better description. But all is well. Taylor has been executed, as well as his accomplices. You are safe."

"Can I see her?"

Liza leaned over and pulled Rachel's blankets up. "Not yet. She's still recovering. But soon."

"What did he do to her?"

The older woman looked at her with sad brown eyes. "That is for Santana to share, if she wishes. For now, rest. And I'll go tell my absolutely incorrigible daughters that you're alright. They've been mad with worry."

Rachel smiled, and closed her eyes again.

Santana felt Edmund's hand on her forehead. "It doesn't hurt anymore," she whispered, not opening her eyes.

"Good," he said. "Would it interest you to know that your Rachel woke up a bit ago?"

Her eyes snapped open at this. "Is she okay? Can I see her?"

Edmund took out a bit of fabric that Santana recognized as one of Rachel's scarves. He waved it vaguely in her direction.

A rumble came from deep within her chest.

"No, you may not see her," he said. "Just her sent sets off your hunting instincts. It will be a few days yet."

Santana sat up just so she could flop back on her pillows in frustration.

"Be calm," he said sternly. "You need your rest."

"Are you mad at me?" she asked softly.

He kneeled next to the bed and kissed her forehead. "No. The fault is, partially, mine. You are strong, but you are still very young. Very human. We should have planned for something like this. But we didn't, and we've paid the price and learned, haven't we?"

She nodded.

"I will go and check on your tiny human. Sleep now." He moved the IV full of plasma closer to her bed and left the room.

The days passed quietly. Paul and all of his sisters visited, and carried messages back and forth between her and Santana.

By the fourth day, Edmund had given the okay for Santana and Rachel to be in the same room together—under supervision.

"I feel like I'm picking you up for the eighth grade dance and you're dad's standing behind you with a shotgun," Santana grumbled.

"Dad's more of a sword fan. Daddy would have his pistol, though," Rachel said, smiling. "Hug me," she demanded.

Santana grinned, and did so. She pulled Rachel close and reveled in the younger girl's warmth. Breathing in deeply, she mumbled, "Stay with me…?"

Tightening her grip on the Darkling—her Darkling—Rachel smiled and nodded.