Chapter Four
"Oh, if that's him – " Santana spun around, her entire face a dark cloud of fury. She pulled the door open, ready to lay it down, not caring whether the person on the other side was twice or even three times her size. She took a purposeful step forward, holding her fist high, adrenaline running throughout her body like fever.
"Whoa! Hi, Satan!" Kurt smiled as he ducked to avoid the blow that never came, raising his hands in surrender. "I know I don't live here anymore, but can I come in?" he asked, peering over his former roommate's shoulder.
Quinn let out a ragged breath, sinking down in her chair. Her heart pounded in her chest while tears of panic streamed down her face, her hands tightly clutching at Rachel's forearm, her nails digging painfully into the flesh, though the other girl barely felt it through the rush of her own adrenaline.
Kurt's normally pale face whitened at least two shades more at the sight of Quinn Fabray in the middle of his former home, looking very much at the end of her rope. He recalled seeing her like this only once before, and...well, he'd rather not think about that time. He'd been trying to block it out for years now, and still hadn't quite succeeded.
"Close the door, Porcelain!" Santana yelled, so loud it made the fashionably dressed young man jump nearly out of his skin. "And slide the bolt, would you? We have a situation here."
Shaken, Kurt did as he was told, rubbing his suddenly clammy palms together after sliding the bolt home. He took a deep breath to calm himself and slowly approached the former HBIC of McKinley High as if she were a wounded, but still dangerous, animal.
"Quinn?" he began gently, going down to one knee in front of the still-sobbing girl, completely taken off guard when she suddenly threw her arms around him as though he were a piece of driftwood, the only thing between her and drowning. "Whoa!" he exclaimed softly, returning the embrace. "Hey, hey...it's good to see you too."
He looked up questioningly at Rachel and Santana, who had been standing by quietly - too quietly, Kurt thought - watching this touching, if unexpected, reunion between him and Quinn. Their eyes were somber, their expressions gravely serious. Kurt felt a chill travel down his spine at the way they looked; he hadn't seen them look that way since Santana's abuela had taken ill and passed away.
Feeling Quinn's arms grow limp with exhaustion, Kurt moved back a little to let them drop to her sides.
"Quinn, sweetheart? Not that it isn't wonderful to see you, but...what's going on?"
Rachel came over to place a comforting hand on Quinn's shoulder. The bruised and tired girl reached a hand up to cover it, smiling weakly as she leaned her head against the other girl's hip.
"Kurt, Quinn is - she's having a bit of domestic trouble, if you understand my meaning. It's a delicate situation, but we're handling it. She's going to be staying with us for as long as she needs to, and Mike and Sam are coming in from Chicago for a visit as well."
Kurt's eyes went wide as he realized what Rachel was telling him, then widened still further when he saw how tightly Santana was gripping her own arms, as she always did whenever her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. He stood up, taking Quinn's other hand in his, raising to his lips to kiss the back of it softly.
"Oh, Quinn," he said, his voice thick with distress. "What can I do to help? I can call my father...or...or I can get in touch with Sebastian at his law firm. Oh! Maybe Blaine knows someone from his boxing class..."
"Right now, the best thing you can do is just be here for Quinn," Rachel stated firmly. "Oh, maybe we can all watch a movie! Would you like that, Quinn?"
"I don't know if Q could handle a musical right now, Berry," Santana interjected before the blonde could even begin to answer the question. "I think she probably needs rest more than anything. Come on, Fabray - what do you say to sharing my bed, like old times?"
Quinn laughed - a full, real laugh - for the first time since her arrival. "You know what? That sounds really good," she said. "Maybe…maybe can watch a movie later?"
Her eyes sought Rachel's and met them, seeing the warmth she knew she would find there. Her chest felt too small to contain the gratitude she felt for her friends. "Is that okay with you, Rachel?" At the tiny diva's nod, she turned her gaze to the young man in front of her. "Kurt?"
"Of course, sweetie," Kurt said, patting her knee softly. "We'll be right here after you and Santana have your nap."
Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand, pleased when Quinn squeezed back. "Yes, we will. Go and rest. Maybe you'll feel up to some lunch later?"
"Maybe." She looked to Santana, a question in her eyes. "San? Where's your room again? It's been a while..."
Santana stepped over to take Quinn into her arms, lifting her up bridal style once again. It troubled her how light she was; it felt as though she weighed almost nothing, a dried leaf in a gale.
"Here you go, Q. Air Santana, first class. Traveling in style."
The blonde rested her head against her best friend's shoulder, beginning to feel safe and loved for the first time in way too long. Still, a voice in the back of her mind warned her not to get too comfortable. Things could change at any moment. If she'd learned anything this last year, she'd learned that.
When they reached Santana's bed, she carefully laid Quinn down on the mattress, where the blonde immediately curled herself up into a fetal position and pulled the covers over herself as though to hide from Santana, or maybe the world. The sight filled Santana with an aching sadness. How could her once strong and independent co-captain have been reduced to bruises and shame like this? No matter how she tried, she just couldn't understand it.
Santana sighed, then went over to her closet, angrily rummaging through her clothes to distract herself.
"What are you doing?" Quinn asked suddenly, poking her head and part of her upper body out of the blanket. She struggled to lift herself up a little, but her body was clearly beginning to succumb to exhaustion, drained both emotionally and physically.
"Getting into something more comfortable," Santana answered simply, as she began to slip out of her dress.
Quinn nodded. "Oh. When I heard your footsteps, I thought…I thought you were leaving me," she admitted in a small voice. Her face reddened with embarrassment at the panic that had abruptly welled up within her at the idea that she was being left alone, as though she was a child who was afraid of the dark.
Once Santana had finished changing into her sweat pants and a tank top, she walked back over to the bed and sat on the edge, taking Quinn's hand into her own. "No one is going to leave you by yourself, Q. I promise."
"Okay." Quinn quietly replied. Her thin frame relaxed at last against the pillows as her drowsy eyes began to flutter, though she still managed to give Santana's hand a small tug, urging the other girl to lie down next to her.
"Wait, Q. Hold up. I have something to show you." Santana slid off the bed and knelt down to reaching beneath it. "Mami gave this to me when I first moved up here. " She said held up a long, smooth wooden baseball bat. "New York City – hey, you never know," she said with a devious wink.
A faint smile quirked at the corners of Quinn's lips, and she reached out to grab it with both hands. Santana let her take it, and the blonde turned over, holding the weapon close, the way a child might hold a favorite stuffed animal. "Between you and this bat, he doesn't really have a chance."
Santana chuckled at the remark. "Plus, we've got Rachel and Kurt out in the living room. Trust me, those two are stronger than they look," she said, still smiling as she climbed into bed next to Quinn. "I think Rachel actually took one of those Israeli martial arts classes, so if anybody tries anything, they're in for a real surprise."
"I like the way you say that with conviction."
Santana snuggled in close, resting her head against Quinn's shoulder. "I've lived with both of them, remember? I have stories..."
"You'll have to tell me about them later," Quinn said drowsily.
Quinn breathed a peaceful sigh when Santana's warm front pressed against her back, the other girl's arm protectively circling around her waist, holding her firmly. It was a feeling of comfort and safety she hadn't felt in so long.
"Santana?"
"Yeah, Q?"
"Don't leave - even after I fall asleep. I…I just need you next to me. Okay?"
The need in Quinn's voice caused Santana's heart to clench with sadness. How any man could break Quinn Fabray, Santana would never know - but what she did know was that, by God, they were going to figure this out together and get Quinn her life back.
She pressed a kiss to the back of Quinn's neck, giving her a gentle squeeze with the arm circling her waist. "I won't leave. Promise."
Quinn finally allowed her eyes to flutter closed, and within seconds, her breathing evened out, and then she was fast asleep. Santana didn't get much sleep herself, but she kept her word, watching Quinn sleep, staying with her the entire time.
With the two ex-cheerleaders retired to Santana's bedroom, Rachel and Kurt were left in the loft's living area to try and sort through the day's stunning events. Rachel was glad to have someone to discuss things with, but the stricken look on Kurt's face made her worry if she had another friend in need of comfort rather than a partner in conversation. He sat with his hands steepled in front of his face, his elbows atop his knees, staring at nothing. Rachel knew Kurt about as well as she'd ever known anyone, and watching him now, she knew that he was trying desperately to reconcile the Quinn he'd always known with the one who had thrown her arms around him, the one with swollen, fearful, haunted eyes.
Rachel could relate, of course. She was still as shocked and distraught over Quinn's sudden, desperate appearance as she could be, and the sudden quiet in the loft made her thoughts reverberate even louder in her mind. How could this have happened - and to Quinn, no less? It just didn't make any sense. Quinn was many things, but Rachel could never have imagined her as someone who could be treated the way her - her mouth twisted in distaste, as though she'd just downed a shot of lemon juice as she thought the word - boyfriend had apparently treated her.
"It's her mom and dad all over again," Kurt whispered. "She sought out and found a guy just like her father, and he's treating her just like her dad treated her mother."
"What? Kurt, you're not saying - " At this point, Rachel had thought she couldn't be shocked anymore, but Kurt's words shook her to the core. "Are you implying that Quinn somehow wanted this?"
Kurt looked at her as though she'd just slapped him. His mouth and eyes were wide open in horror, and Rachel instantly regretted her words at the hurt expression he wore.
"Of course not!," he cried softly, indignant. "I meant - well, you know how Quinn's parents were. Her father was a domineering bully, and her mom drank heavily just to deal with it. Quinn told me his verbal and emotional abuse were what drove her older sister Frannie out of the house and into an early marriage."
Closing her eyes to deal with the headache forming behind them, Rachel let out a heavy sigh. "Did...did he hit them, too?"
"I've often wondered that myself, but I don't know for sure. Quinn never said he did, and I didn't push," Kurt admitted. He lifted the cup of tea Rachel had brewed for him to his lips, blew on the steaming beverage to cool it, then took a small sip. "It was a long time ago. We only talked about it maybe a couple of times, which surprised me to no end. We weren't exactly close, you recall."
"They do say that abuse runs in cycles," Rachel mused. She pulled her legs up onto the couch and leaned back against one of the soft cushions behind her. No show rehearsal had ever been so exhausting. She was bone-deep tired, but she knew she wouldn't truly be able to rest until this situation was resolved.
Kurt's memories loomed like ghosts as he cast his mind back to those strange conversations he'd had with Quinn.
"It was like she was talking about someone else, even though she made no effort to disguise the fact that she was actually talking about herself. Maybe...maybe she talked to me about it because if she talked to you, or to Santana, or even Brittany, that would make it more real somehow. You girls were always much closer to her than any of the guys were. She always held us at arm's length, made herself a mystery. None of us could ever figure her out."
"Honestly, as close as we were, Santana and I always knew she kept secrets from us too," Rachel admitted. "It wasn't like we ever got the full story about anything from her either. Maybe her relationship with her father made her distrustful of men, even the ones she liked."
"Or maybe the guys she dated - Finn, Sam, even Puck - were too nice for her. Maybe she was subconsciously looking for something else. Not someone violent, of course, but perhaps someone more...forceful. Someone who would treat her more the way her dad did."
"I don't know." Rachel rubbed at her temples, wishing that the image of Quinn's bruised face and limbs would stop flashing in her mind every time she closed her eyes. "But if you're right...if she was looking for someone like her father...well, it looks like she found him." Her voice was hoarse, raspy with exhaustion. She hadn't cried this much in a long time; she'd almost forgotten how draining it was. She felt as though she had used up all her tears in this single day.
"And then some," Kurt agreed sadly. "What are we going to do, Rachel? We can't let her go back to...to that. We just can't."
Rachel reached out a reassuring hand to gently squeeze his arm. Her voice, though, when she spoke again after a handful of silent moments, was soft but firm. "We won't. I swear it. We'll protect her, Kurt. All of us will, no matter what it takes."