Chapter Four

Quinn blinked slowly awake at the sense of someone being in the room with her and the raspy sound of a voice calling her nickname. "San?" she mumbled sleepily, sitting up, "Is that you?"

She reached over and switched on her bedside lamp, blinking painfully at the bright light before turning her tired gaze to her friend. When she saw her, the remaining vestiges of sleep burned away and she ripped the covers off her, almost tangling her feet in her haste to get to the other girl.

"Oh my God, Santana!" She grabbed her just before she collapsed, helping her to the bed and anxiously checking her injuries. "W-what happened? This... Please tell me this isn't normal!"

The battered girl looked up through pained eyes. She felt Quinn taking off the blanket the covered her bare torso, the shirt she had been wearing still tied limply around her wrists. "I ripped your shirt," she slurred, her eyes not focusing on anything. Santana had no clothes on so the brand on her hip shone bright with aggravation. "I'm sorry..." She rasped out, "I never thought he'd hurt me." She watched Quinn out of blurry eyes.

"I don't care about the damn shirt, San," Quinn hissed, her voice trembling with emotion as she hurried to the bathroom to get the first aid kit she used at Cheerios practice. "That son of a..." She clenched her jaw, shaking her head as she started rummaging through the kit for supplies.

Her hand hesitated over the surgical gloves and she glanced at San out of the corner of her eye. Hating herself, she pulled out a pair and slid them on her hands. She couldn't risk possible infection and she didn't know what sort of horrible things could have been done to her best friend.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, before gripping Santana's nose and pulling it straight with a sharp pop. "You have to let me take you to the clinic now, San. I...I can't take care of all this on my own..."

Santana whimpered. "Hurts," she whispered as her nose was realigned. She was losing eyesight due to the blood pooling up behind her socket. She felt her head lull to the side. "We go," she slurred, her body unable to keep up with the pain coursing through her. Santana didn't even care that she was basically naked with cum dried and clinging in blotchy patches on her stomach and thighs as she tried to pull the blanket around her with her dislocated wrist.

Quinn nodded, stepping to her closet to grab an oversized button up shirt she'd stolen from Finn back when they were dating and placing it around Santana's shoulders as she toed her shoes on. "We're going right now, Santana. I'm going to get you help." She helped her up, finally resorting to lifting her into a fireman's carry, "Just hold on. You'll be okay."

Hurrying down the stairs before anyone else even woke up, she got out the front door as quickly as she could, not even bothering with a coat despite the cold air outside. She placed Santana into the passenger seat and buckled her up before getting into the car and debating with herself if the clinic could handle it or if she should just take her to St Rita's or Lima Memorial.

Santana mumbled, "Cops... no cops." She grumbled as she reached her left hand over to Quinn and groped for her hand. Even though she ended up holding a gloved hand, Santana needed the feeling of warmth against her skin. She needed to stay grounded. "Don't feel good..."

Quinn nodded jerkily, turning the car towards the highway and out of town. "It'll be okay, San. Just hold on." She squeezed her hand, "Please."


Once on the highway, she gunned the engine, going well over the speed limit as she headed for the Bluffton hospital. It was the closest one she could think of outside of Lima. She didn't care if she got a giant ticket for speeding down the empty highway. She just wanted to get her friend to help.

Santana breathed shallowly as they drove, more or less passed out when the blonde pulled up to the hospital and the nurses helped move her from the car to a gurney. They wheeled Santana into the trauma room and began checking her over.

One of the nurses looked up at Quinn. "What happened to her?" Quinn couldn't answer as she stared blankly at the sight of them intubating the girl carefully as they could due to her partially crushed windpipe. They cut off the remaining shreds of her pants and draped her with a gown.

One of the other trauma nurses spoke to the doctor, updating him on the situation. "She's got extensive bruising and what may be dried semen on her thighs, vaginal area and stomach. Her nose appears broken as well as her right eye socket. She looks to have bruises on her ribs as well.

The doctor nodded. "We need a chest x-ray to check her lung function," she called to an orderly as she spared a brief glance for the worried girl standing near her table. "How old is she, miss?"

"Fifteen." Quinn looked haggard with worry, her hair still hanging messily around her head. "I think she's been r-raped... please, you have to help her. She's my best friend; you have to help her..."

The doctor's attention jerked from Santana back to Quinn. "Fifteen?" She was surprised, but bit back her shock as she continued to work on the girl, nodding for a nurse to remove Quinn from the bay so they could work.

"Come on, sweetie, we'll get you cleaned up while they work on your friend." One of the older nurses escorted Quinn out and brought her to another room with a sink. She helped Quinn take off the gloves and got a wet cloth and wiped the girl's tears away. "You can be scared, sweetie. No one should see someone like that, let alone live it... We'll take good care of her. Do you know her parents' phone number? We're going to have to call them and the police."

Quinn shook her head. "You can't," her voice cracked as she said it, tears trickling down her cheeks. "They'll..." she shook her head, "you can't report this, please. She'll hate me if I let you. Please." She was begging, but it was all she could do. "Her parents... Her dad's in prison for something he didn't even do and her mom... There's no point in calling anyone. Please, she's my best friend..."

"Okay." The nurse sighed. "Let's get her fixed up and then we can go from there." She smiled and brought Quinn to the family room to wait.


Two hours later, the nurse came back into the family room and gently shook Quinn's shoulder. "Sweetie, do you want to come see your friend?" she whispered.

Quinn blinked blearily up at her having fallen asleep after begging Sue to cover for her with her parents because Santana had been hurt while going into as few details as possible. "I can see her?" Her voice was rough with sleep and she cleared it before speaking again. "She's okay, right?"

"She's a very strong girl. Her guardian came and signed a release for her treatment so we are looking to see if we will have to take her to surgery," the nurse explained as she escorted the girl into the private room. Santana was still intubated, her face black and blue and her nose had a splint on it. Her right hand was resting in a splint and there was a tube running out the side of her chest. "We just got the papers signed to check her for rape like you said. We had to wait to get the ability to check her over since she's a minor." She swallowed, shaking her head as she brought the girl over to a chair.

Quinn reached up and carefully took Santana's left hand in hers. "Her guardian?" She looked confused. "She has a guardian?" She shook her head, resolving not to worry about it. "Will...will she be tested for, you know, illnesses and things? Stuff she might have caught from the bastard that did this to her?" Her hand tightened on Santana's without her realizing it as she spoke.

"A tall woman with short hair? Kinda of scary? She brought in medical power of attorney a few hours ago," she said as she updated Santana's chart. "We will test her, now that we have permission... but nothing will show up from this attack yet. Are... Miss, are you worried because you think she's been attacked before? She had many old fractures in her bones as well as her face and additional fracturing to her pelvis that looks to be healing, but it's at least a few months old." She sighed and went about cleaning one of the cuts on Santana's face. "Is she involved with any gangs?"

"Sue," Quinn muttered with a sigh of relief, only half listening to the nurse as she talked. "I... not gangs. She isn't like that. She's way too smart to get involved with gangs, but...she's been hurt before. This was the first time she came to me after though. I couldn't just...I made her come. Please don't report her because of me." Her eyes never left the sleeping girl's face as she spoke, worry evident in her entire demeanor.

"Okay, we'll get her tested and started on an anti-viral series of medication right away just in case," the nurse said as she wrote down the orders she knew the doctor would want. "I ask about the gang because someone branded her. It's a gang symbol I've seen before and I was worried that this was more than what she's telling you." She sighed and moved to leave the room. "Hit that button if you need anything," she said, motioning to the call button on the wall.

"It's her mom," Quinn whispered only barely loud enough for the nurse to hear. "This...all of this is because of her mom." She sniffed slightly, finally glancing away from Santana to meet the nurse's gave. "That awful woman destroyed everything that was good for her and I can't do anything to fix it."

"Okay," she said quietly. "We'll fix your friend up. Don't worry." She nodded before leaving the two girls in the room. Only the sounds of the respirator and the heart monitor could be heard through the room. Santana lay sleeping on the bed as her body fought to keep her alive.

Quinn let out a shaky breath, leaning over until her forehead pressed against Santana's arm. "Please be okay," she whispered, adding a silent prayer to her plea, "please, San. I need you to be okay..."

A few minutes later, Santana's fingers flexed around Quinn's. Dark eyes blinked open - her right eye barely opened, but it was the best she could do with the swelling - and she could look around the room. She couldn't move much but she knew Quinn was with her. She squeezed the girl's hand and blinked again.

Quinn looked up quickly at the squeeze giving Santana a tremulous smile. "Hi," she breathed, reaching up with a free hand to brush away her tears. "You had me pretty scared." She did her best to sound upbeat and as if her fears and worry were wiped away by the simple fact that Santana had woken up.

Santana couldn't move her other hand and she was scared. Tears blinked out of her eyes and she struggled with the tube in her throat as she looked at Quinn. She couldn't remember why she was in pain, or why she couldn't move or talk. Her heart monitor picked up as her fear began pushing adrenaline into her system, spiking her heart rate.

"Hey," Quinn squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her, "calm down, San. You got beat up pretty bad and I was scared so I brought you to Bluffton and the hospital here. We're not in Lima and they promised not to call the cops. Sue signed off as your guardian for you to get help. It's okay. I won't let anyone hurt you here."

The immobile girl looked scared still but then looked into Quinn's eyes and nodded slowly. She watched her and her heart started slowly beating at a normal pace. She kept her relatively undamaged eye locked with Quinn's as she squeezed her hand. She took a breath and struggled a bit on the bed, she wanted the tubes out of her body.

"Hold on, San," Quinn murmured, not looking away as she reached up and hit the call button for the nurse.

A couple of minutes later, the nurse that had spoken with Quinn earlier walked in, "Yes, dear?"

"She's awake. Can," she took a breath, composing herself, "does she have to have that tube in now?"

"Let me check if she's triggering the vent..." the nurse checked Santana over, she was mildly concerned that her eyes were not focusing but she hoped it was that she was scared verses anything else. "Okay. Let me get the doctor." A few minutes later the doctor who had worked on her before came in and gave her some medication to calm her down so they could remove the tube without hurting her. Once she relaxed enough, they carefully pulled out the tube in her throat.

"Okay, Miss," the doctor started as she fixed an oxygen mask over her face, "you need to try to not talk. Your throat had some compression damage and you strained your windpipe and vocal cords pretty good. If it gets hard to breathe again, we'll have to put the tube back in, okay?" she said softly and Santana nodded. With a smile, she left, leaving the nurse to check over Santana, paying especial attention to checking her vision.

"Sweetheart, can you see much of anything right now?" she asked and Santana squeezed Quinn's hand, then shook her head no. "Okay let me drain the blood." She went and grabbed a needle and numbed the area. "You might want to look away," she said to Quinn before slipping the curved needle under Santana's eyes and draining the blood pooling behind it in her eye socket. "That should be better. I'll come back in soon."

Santana blinked slowly and looked at Quinn. She then looked up to the ceiling and breathed slowly.

"Please don't be mad at me," Quinn whispered, "I thought you were going to die. I had to do something, had to bring you here." She squeezed the hand she'd held through the extubation and the draining of blood behind her eyes, "I'm so glad you woke up, San." Her voice wavered with emotion - so unlike the stoic front she usually presented to the world - making her sound scared and younger than her sixteen years. "Sue's covering for us, telling my father she called an early surprise practice if he asks." She watched Santana, a tear slowly welling in her eye and trickling down her cheek, "You don't have to talk, just please don't be mad. I couldn't lose you, I just couldn't."

Santana blinked. She still couldn't move her body with the amount of pain she was in. She couldn't speak because she didn't want Quinn to know that she wanted to die. That she wished for him to kill her. Santana closed her eyes and took a wavering breath. She didn't know what she looked like. She couldn't remember what had happened. All she knew is that she wanted to sleep. That she wanted to go and hide and not let anyone look at her.

When Santana closed her eyes and shut off from Quinn, the blonde leaned forward and rested her forehead against the back of the hand she held. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I couldn't think of anything and I was scared to lose you. Please don't hate me. I know I messed up and didn't do what you wanted but please don't hate me..."

"Don't hate you," Santana whimpered her voice scratchy from getting throttled and the tube in her throat. She opened her eyes again and groaned as she tried to move her broken wrist to take off her mask. She gave up half way through and just turned her head slightly to look at Quinn.

Quinn lifted her head a bit to let Santana see the raw and emotional wateriness in her eyes. "You're all I have that's really good anymore, San. No," she raised her hand to keep her from speaking with a scared look, afraid if she didn't say what was on her mind now, she never would, "don't speak. You are. You're my best friend, the only person I'd want as my right hand. And you don't judge me. You don't expect me to be wonderful and perfect and... and thin all the time." Tears trickled down her cheek as her tongue slipped out to moisten her lips. "I couldn't bear to lose you. I need you in my life, Santana..."

Santana tiredly lifted the arm that Quinn had been holding up and wiped a tear off her pale face. The girl just watched her for a few minutes and kept stroking her face slowly. Her breath was labored as she watched Quinn struggle with herself. She couldn't feel anything other than pain. Her head was pounding and her right eyelid had closed of its own accord from the swelling in her face. "I asked him to kill me," she mumbled, not sure if Quinn would be able to understand her.

Quinn heard. She didn't understand, but she definitely heard. Her jaw worked as she tried to swallow down the anger and pain the words brought. "Oh," she finally whispered, her voice shattering over the painful words she was forcing out. "I, um, I guess I shouldn't have brought you here then." She blinked, trying hard to push her stoic mask back into place. It was hard, so hard. This was Santana. Her best friend and the only person who made her feel like she was worth something as she already was. "I-if that's how you feel..."

She felt as broken inside as Santana looked on the outside in that moment, but she'd learned early that showing pain was a weakness for others to exploit. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting down the pain. Her fingers slackened around Santana's hand slightly, but despite it all, she couldn't bring herself to pull away from the other girl completely.

"I wanted him to stop... It hurt and I... was wanting to stop hurting you too," Santana whispered. "I thought it was the only way for it to stop... so I held my breath." She was trying to explain even though it hurt to talk. "I held my breath until I passed out and he thought I died." She sniffled and looked at Quinn. "I didn't want to break my promise to you that I wouldn't get hurt."

Quinn's eyes flashed open, bright with pained anger. Her hand tightened on Santana's again. "Don't you ever think I'll be better off with my best friend dead, Santana!" she hissed. "If you're being hurt, do whatever you have to for it to stop and then come to me and let me do whatever I have to to make it better."

She raised their rejoined hands to her face, pressing a light kiss to the back of her best friend's hand before pressing it to her cheek. "I need you in my life. You're the only reason I can resist my parents' demands and be myself as best I can. I don't care about broken promises so long as I can help you be okay again..."

The younger girl whimpered. "Stop. Listen, Q," she mumbled. "I... made him think I was dead so he'd stop. I came to you... I came to you for help." Santana tried to make Quinn understand as she spoke. "I just... I needed him to stop. It hurt so bad, Quinn... It hurts."

It was enough to break her from her anger. Letting go of Santana's hand for a moment, she stood and leaned in to hug her best friend gently, "I know," she whispered in her ear. "I know you did. I'm just... I was so scared you'd die, San. I wish I could make it stop hurting. I wish I could."

"What's wrong with me?" She sniffled. "Everything hurts and... and my eyes hurt and my hand..." She looked up with a pale gaze. "I don't have enough money to pay to be in the hospital," she whispered looking away. "No insurance."

"Sue's taking care of it, Santana. Don't worry about it." Quinn pulled back, taking Santana's hand again to maintain their connection. "You were beaten so bad. They're talking about surgery to fix some things still. You," she shook her head, her voice wavering, "you need to get out, San. Before they kill you."

"Oh," she whispered, as she closed her eyes. "I hope they don't kill my mom," she said as she looked up to Quinn. "I just don't know how to make this all stop, how to make all of this end." She sighed and squeezed Quinn's hand. "Will you stay when I get surgery? I don't wanna be here alone."

Quinn offered her a lopsided smile. "Of course I'll stay, San. What kind of friend would I be if I bailed on you when you needed me most? I'll stay as long as I can and if they make me leave then," she looked determined, "I'll skip school tomorrow and be here first thing, okay?"

"Don't skip," Santana said sternly. "I'll probably be in surgery tomorrow morning so don't skip... just come after and help me wake up?" she asked sadly. "I don't wanna wake up if you're not here."

"I'll be here." Quinn nodded determinedly. "Nothing is going to keep me from being here when you wake up. I promise."

Santana nodded and her eyes fell closed at Quinn's words. She clutched the other girl's hand as she fell back into a fitful slumber.


The following day, Santana had been taken into surgery early in the morning. She needed to get adhesions revolved from her uterus, her pelvis reset, surgery to set the bones in her hand properly and plastics needed to check her face and the brand carved into her hip. It had taken several hours before she was brought out of the ICU and into a standard room. Sue Sylvester, of all people, sat guard in the room as she was weaned off the sedative.

Quinn slipped through the door about twenty minutes after Santana was brought out of surgery with a small teddy bear with sunglasses and a heart tattoo on it's arm. She almost jumped at the sight of her coach sitting beside her friend. "C-coach Sylvester, what are you...?"

A blonde brow rose in sardonic query. "I'm her guardian, Q. I could be asking you the same thing as it's only," she didn't even glance at the clock on the wall, "ten in the morning and I haven't announced a school wide evacuation this morning so shouldn't your perky blonde self be in class?"

"She's my best friend," Quinn replied, walking in and dragging the room's other chair over to Santana's left side, taking her hand, "and I promised her I'd be here when she woke up."

"Admirable. In a pathetically childish sort of way. Next time inform me before you decide to skip and I'll give you a more plausible excuse," Sue drolled, standing and dusting off her nylon pants. "Now, I find I have a certain vendetta to carry out with a members of a certain group that feels they can operate with impunity in my town. I'll see you tomorrow at practice, Q."

Sue left with as little fanfare as she'd arrived with, leaving Quinn staring at her in confusion, not at all understanding what had happened.


Santana remained sleeping for the better part of the morning. A resident came in nearly an hour and a half after Quinn arrived to cast her arm. She smiled at Quinn when she realized the girl was there.

"What color would she want?" she asked showing a large array of choices.

"You don't seem to have black," Quinn glanced up with a tired smirk. "Orange," she ran her thumb gently over the back of Santana's hand, looking back at the sleeping girl, "strong and fiery like her, but bright and hopeful too. She needs things like that. And," she glanced up at the resident with a hopefully teasing smirk, "if she doesn't like it, she can bitch at me."

"Sounds perfect!" she said with a smile and started casting her hand. "Are you her sister?"

Quinn raised a disbelieving brow at the resident for a moment before shaking her head. "No, I'm her best friend. I brought her in last night."

"Oh, okay." She smiled. "She looks like a strong girl." She continued to apply strips of plaster sheathing to Santana's arm. "She had quite a surgery this morning."

"I know she's strong," Quinn whispered, watching her work. "Stronger than me. I never would have survived what she's been through."

"She'll get better. One attack hopefully won't ruin her life, she might need some therapy and help but she'll be okay." The nurse finished bandaging her arm and finished the cast. "She's going to be in the hospital for a few days." Santana eyes began to flutter open and struggle against the medications as the nurse headed out of the room.

"If it was just one, I wouldn't worry so much," Quinn muttered, reaching up to gently squeeze Santana's shoulder as she stirred. "Good afternoon, sleepy," she smiled bright as she could, her tone teasing, "welcome back."

"You're pretty," Santana whispered as she looked at the girl. She wasn't lucid by any means but she looked at Quinn like she was her savior. "I saw you. When I was asleep."

"Not nearly as pretty as you. Everyone knows that." Quinn laughed softly. "Did you? Dreaming about me now, Lopez? Should I be worried?" she teased Santana, trying her best to be cheerful and as normal as possible around her while she was recovering.

"Uh huh," she croaked. "You had wings and pretty white clothes," she spoke softly, still almost half asleep. "You came and saved me." She smiled the best she could with the bandages and swelling.

"Well, I'm certainly no angel," Quinn snorted softly, trying not to laugh, "but if I can come save you, I always will."

The darker girl pouted. "You're my angel. My angel who looks like my friend. My friend, Quinn. She's so pretty and nice... even when she's a bitch," Santana rambled as she lost her focus.

Quinn laughed finally catching on that Santana was still under the influence of her medications. "Sure, Santana. Is your friend a bitch a lot? She shouldn't be."

"I like it. She's not scared of me," Santana said as she tried to move around a bit. "She's really hot when she's a bitch," she whispered out as she flexed her left hand and brought it up to her face. She touched her bandages and winced. "Ouch. Hurts, Angel-Quinn."

"She's hot, huh?" Quinn smiled lopsidedly, reaching over to gently pull her casted arm back down. "Hey, don't do that. You've been hurt really bad and it scared me...I mean your friend. It scared your friend a lot to see you that hurt. She really likes you, you know."

"Got scared. Went home and my door was open. I thought my mom came to see me, but she wasn't there," she whispered as she looked up at her friend. "She wasn't there. She never goes anywhere. But he was there and he hurt me. I left when I could and went to Quinn's house even though it hurt to walk. I needed her."

"She wishes you hadn't gone, but she's glad you came to her, Santana," Quinn whispered, reaching up to brush some hair out of Santana's face and trying not to think about what could of happened if she hadn't been strong enough to make it to her. "She needed to be able to help you."

Santana nodded and drifted back off to sleep. Nearly an hour later she woke back up confused. "Where... am I?" Santana rasped as she tried to sit up then realized how much pain she was in and she let out a pained scream. "Quinn!" she called out as she realized something was very wrong with her lower body. "Why does it hurt so much?"

Quinn jerked up from where she'd drifted off in the seat next to Santana's bed, their hands still tangled together. "W-what? Where?" She shook her head to get rid of the last vestiges of sleep, "San, calm down. I'm here, okay? You're okay." It felt like she was always explaining what had happened to Santana to her and she was starting to get worried. "You were in surgery this morning. You were hurt really bad, San. Do you remember anything?"

"N-no," she whimpered as she lay back down, tears falling from her eyes. "My... my head and hips hurt. Surgery? Why surgery?" She looked at Quinn and held her hand with a shaky grip. "Why hurt?"

"Your pelvis was broken, San." Quinn swallowed as she remembered the laundry list of things they'd had to fix in her friend. "So was your face. They had to do surgery to fix you, San. You were so hurt." Her voice was breathy with how hard she was trying to hold back tears, squeezing Santana's hand as if she was afraid if she let go, she'd disappear.

"Oh," she whispered, looking down at her body. "Did I get hit by a car?" she asked innocently as she looked to her friend. "I think this is what it would feel like..." She held onto Quinn's hand and whispered softly, "I got hit by a car... right?" She sniffled as she hoped for that to be the reason why she was in the hospital.

She wanted to lie. Wanted to tell her that's all it was. But she knew she couldn't. That one day Santana would remember and she'd hate her for lying.

Her face crumpled as she slowly shook her head, taking in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, San. Y-you don't deserve this. No. It...it wasn't a car. I'm so sorry..."

Santana looked at her and blinked, remembering everything. "Please just tell me I got hit by a car," she pleaded. "Just... please."

"I can't, Santana." Quinn shook her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I can't lie to you. We both know what happened. Please don't make me lie. Not to you..."

The darker girl nodded and looked down at her hands. "Okay," she whimpered as she felt her hands shaking and she whispered softly. "I... I can't deal with this... I don't want anyone to know. I don't want anyone to find out. They'll arrest me, my mom... ruin everything."

"We're not in Lima," Quinn whispered. "They promised the cops wouldn't be called, that this wouldn't be reported. All they know is that you were," she choked on the word, had to force it out, "were r-raped. You don't get arrested for being raped, San."

"Violent crimes get reported," she whispered. "Do they know my name?" She started looking around for an escape route in case they did. If they knew her name she'd get found, so she had to leave no matter how much it hurt.

"I don't think so... No one asked me. Sue may have given a name for you but I don't know what." Quinn frowned. "San, what are you doing? You can't leave. Where will you go? Back to the motel? At least, here you're safe!"

"I... I'm not safe here," she whispered, her eyes shifting around. "They'll find me... either the cops or someone else. What if someone recognizes me or sees me here?" She was panicking and scared that someone would come and find her and see Quinn there and hurt her too. "What if they hurt you?"

"They don't have anything to hold over me, San. If they try to hurt me, I'll go straight to the cops." Quinn looked fiercely determined. "You have to get well. You only help them going back out hurt like this. What if next time they kill you? Have you thought about that? What would I do if you were killed, huh? You think my life would be wonderful if I had as many friends as...as Manhands?"

Santana laughed softly. "Always about you," she said softly as she looked to her friend. "Come lay with me please?"

"Hey, I'm the captain, right?" Quinn's lips twitched into a wry smirk. "And you don't care enough about yourself, so I've got to get you to be careful somehow." She looked from Santana to the door for a moment before sighing and giving in. "Okay, but don't move or I'm getting up, understand?"

Without waiting for an answer, she fiddled with the side rail on the bed before she figured out how to lower it. Once she got it down, she gingerly climbed on the bed and stretched out beside her best friend, trying to avoid touching her for fear of hurting her. "I...this isn't too much, is it? I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"I'm so doped up on pain meds that I doubt I'd feel it," Santana whispered as she reached her hand out to Quinn. "Can we run away? Start over? Make everything go away?" she whispered as she rested her head against Quinn's shoulder, needing contact.

"Sure." Quinn smiled sadly, gingerly looping an arm around her friend's waist. "But where would we go and how would we pay for it? We have to finish high school at least, or we could both end up stuck in the situation you're in. We have to be able to get jobs, San. Real ones."

"I can take care of you," Santana whispered as she closed her eyes. "I'll take care of you forever. Your family doesn't deserve you... I'll take care of you."

"Your family doesn't deserve you either, San." Quinn pressed a gentle kiss to Santana's least damaged cheek. "Why not let me take care of you? I'm in a bit better shape after all." She tried to tease, but it came out a bit flat. "We'll get out of here, San. But we need to save up some more money first. I don't want you to ever have to do again what you do for money now. Not for me. I don't ever want you to feel you have to do that for me. Understand?"

She nodded and sighed, not knowing how she'd be able to do anything ever again. She had lost her ambition lately, she used to dream about getting out, about doing something with her life that was anything but what she did; but lately she just assumed that it was how it was going to be for the rest of her life. "Okay."

"We'll get you help. I won't leave you here, Santana. I promise." She snuggled as close as she dared with how hurt Santana was. "You'll get out. Alive. And I'm going to help in anyway I can."

"Okay," Santana whispered and held onto the other girl to try as hard as she could to believe her. "Okay. We'll be okay..."