I fear there was some confusion about the previous chapter: the flashback was produced by Quinn, yes, but I thought it was a tad more interesting from Santana's point of view. So no, the members of the Council did not hear Santana's thoughts, just saw the ordeal happen.

Disclaimer: Character aren't mine

The image of her and Santana disappeared from the wall and a small smile threatened to tug at the corner of her lips as she recalled how nervous she had been about walking up to that beautiful woman at the bar, she had had to drown half of her body weight in alcohol to just think about it within breaking a sweat.

Suddenly she realized that the room around her had fallen very quiet, like an eerie kind of quiet, stretching on into endlessness.

Then, suddenly, all hell broke loose so to speak. Voices raised, trying to surpass each other and hands were slammed on hard wooden tables, filling the room with sound, though one word stuck in Quinn's ears:

Whore

It wasn't until God forced them to silence that the crude remarks stopped, he seemed quite gruff as he reseated in his chair: "One at a time, else we will descend into chaos."

A man Quinn recognized as Peter stood up from his chair, his hands gripping at his robe, tightening it around him as if he was trying to protect himself from a disease carried on the wind before he spat: "She is a whore! How can we even consider trusting her with the secret of our existence?" he asked, looking at the other saints around him, most of them grumbling their agreement.

"Peter," Mary Magdalene spoke for the first time, her voice the embodiment of calm and kindness: "I remember you calling me something quite similar… a whore who tainted the pureness of the son of God, yet here I stand, your equal."

Peter looked around him, fidgeting slightly: "It is not the same, Mary, it is a different situation. Our lord, Jesus, cannot be persuaded by darkness," he glanced over to Santana, his eyes gleaming with something that was far too close to disgust: "Angels can, we have all seen it. All it takes is a simple whore," he spat at Quinn who flinched at his tone of voice, turning into herself, clearly affected by his words.

Santana clenched her jaws together hard as she saw this and then the vile smile playing around Peter's lips.

It was enough to make her draw her sword and as quickly as light place the tip of it next to the Saint's neck: "If you call her that one more time, I swear to you, no one in this room or beyond will be able to save you. I have been around for millennia, watching over and protecting the creations of our Lord. I admit that I have had my doubts about it but now I know why He calls them perfect, because she is perfect, she's the definition of perfect and I will not stand here and let you insult and hurt her just because you feel like your status is elevated above mine. Let this blade be a reminder that it is not," she looked him straight in the eyes, pressing just that little tad harder against his neck before pulling her weapon back.

He took a big gulp of air, his hand shooting up to his neck to make sure everything was still in order, looking like he wanted to say something before he closed his mouth and sat down on his chair.

God pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply: "Gabriel, please, control your temper.."

Santana smirked: "I am perfectly calm, Father," she bowed her head in slight mockery, catching Quinn's eyes before winking once, making the blonde smile.

"Fine," God grumbled: "We have heard Peter's opinion on the matter loud and clear, does anyone else wish to voice theirs?"

"I do," someone spoke softly and Mother Mary, mother of Jesus, rose from her seat: "Gabriel," she addressed, looking straight at the angel: "The first time you came to me, although it was in a different form, I knew I could trust you and since then you have done nothing to betray that trust. I must ask you though, is this what you really want?"

Santana smiled despite herself as she looked over at Quinn: "Yes, I do, I really do," she breathed out, earning a tentative smile from her beloved.

Mary smiled internally, seeing the lovesick look upon the angel's face: "Quinn?"

The blonde's head snapped up, out of her daze and croaked: "Yes?"

"Could you show us a bit of your childhood, please?"

"My childhood? Why?" a pained look bestowed her features as she remembered.

She remembered so many things that she had tried so hard to forget but could only lock in the deepest depths of her mind and now here they were, flashing before her eyes on the big screen.

Images of green grass, sandboxes and barbies at first followed by flashed of her father, drunk and angry, advancing towards her mother and then her, his hand raising, coming down, again and again.

The sound of flesh upon flesh and then of leather upon flesh when he used his leather belt that had cost far too much.

Her mother crying and screaming in the background, her own pleas from salvation swallowed by her father's voice, spewing fire upon her.

Teachers asking about her bruises in class, she feeding them lies with a smile on her face only to be punished even more severely that same night.

Secret visits to the doctor together with her mother so she could get some painkillers, a small kindness, a small reprieve from the constant agony.

Her father found out…

The flashes stopped to run in one long sequence of a memory that she was forced to carry with her for the rest of her life while it haunted her:

"Mommy, it hurts," a nine year old Quinn said softly as her mother wrapped a fresh bandage around her ribcage.

"I know, Quinny, and I'm so sorry," Judy Fabray said, hoping her voice did not tremble as much as her hands.

Little Quinn looked at her hands solemnly: "Why does daddy hate us so much? Am I a bad girl?"

Judy's heart almost broke at the question: "No, baby, no, of course not. Don't ever think that, ok?"

A weak nod was all she got.

"Look at me, honey, please," small hazel eyes found hers: "We're gonne be okay, I promise you, we're gonne leave this place and be happy, you and me together," she smiled encouragingly, squeezing the tiny hand in hers.

"WHAT!" a voice bellowed and it made Judy's blood ice over in her veins.

Quinn shrunk into a girl that wasn't even half of what she should be, fearfully looking at her daddy, tears already running down her cheeks.

Judy had had enough of this, she would not let her daughter go through this any longer and she found her voice as she turned around to face an enraged Russell Fabray: "I'm leaving you, Russell, I'm taking Quinn with me before you put her in a coma!"

"I'm learning her how to behave!" the man roared, his eyes spewing fire.

"You are learning her how to cower at you feet and I will not have it anymore! We are leaving tonight and you will be receiving the divorce papers in a few days!"

That seemed to get his attention: "You're divorcing me?" he whispered, dangerously low.

Judy ignored him, turning towards Quinn and holding out her hand: "Come on Quinny, we're leaving," she tried to keep her voice steady and soothing.

The little blonde hastily grabbed her mother's hand with both hers, not wanting to lose the connection with her savior, her invincible guardian.

Though, not so invincible after all when a dull thud sounded through the room and a thin stream of blood trickled down Judy's face as her smile fell.

A new wave of fear installed itself in the deepest depth of Quinn's stomach and once more tears leaked from her eyes, staining her cheeks.

"Mommy?" her voice was as tinier than ever before, her hand trembling as she touched the older blonde's cheek.

Judy opened her mouth to answer her little girl but then there was another thud and she fell to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Little Quinny could clearly see a big open gash on her mother's head, the source of all the blood which was now spilling all over the floor, nearing the toes of her bare feet.

"Oh god, what have I done?" Russell mumbled as he glanced from the bottle in his hands to his wife bleeding on the floor.

His daughter, his innocent little child, looked up at him, with nothing but fear in her eyes and suddenly he realized just what he had done, what he had really done and he ran.

Quinn barely noticed her father flee the scene as she dropped down next to her mother: "Mommy, mommy, wake up please… you promised we were gonne be happy," she poked the woman but there was no reaction so she tried harder: "Mommy! Mommy please!" she yelled desperately, hiccupping as she tried to breath properly through her sobs.

~0~0~

The room had grown quiet once more, but this time it was because of a completely different reason as they watched this human tremble and shake at reliving this memory.

Santana could not bear it any longer, seeing the person she loved suffer like this.

She removed her weapon, taking both sword and sheath from her belt, before she stepped towards Quinn slowly, not wanting to scare the shivering girl whose eyes were wide and gleaming with tears.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Santana whispered, her arms wrapped around her girlfriend's waist, laying her chin upon the blonde's shoulder.

Quinn took a fortifying breath, tangling her fingers with the ones upon her stomach: "At first I didn't want to, then I did not know how.."

"I'm sorry, you should not go through this," the angel said through gritted teeth, pulling Quinn closer to her, hoping it would give her comfort.

"It's alright," the blonde said weakly, trying to keep her feelings to herself: "It just overwhelmed me to see it again, I'm fine" she emphasized once more but Santana was not buying it.

"Father," she spoke up: "I think Quinn has shown us enough for today, I will take place as witness from now," her voice carried authority yet still seemed humble at the same time.

God knew that tone and obliged the request with a gesture of his hand.

Santana gave him a thankful smile which he acknowledged with a nod before she lead Quinn off the platform towards Mary Magdalene, giving her firm kiss upon the forehead and whispering words of comfort and assurance before taking her place upon the lighted platform and looked towards the Saints with neutral expression.

There was some quiet murmuring among the council before one man stood up, claiming his time of speech: "Show us about Lucifer."

Santana clenched her jaws together, keeping her mind void of images so they could not be projected for all to see: "What does this have to do with my relationship with Quinn?"

A woman, seated next to the standing man, spoke: "I'm sure you have heard the rumors, we feel it is necessary to know the truth of the matter, so should the human if she wishes to become your permanent partner."

"Those affairs are personal, not to be used for gossip," Santana answered with a clear voice: "The ones who should know about it, already do and I do not wish to disclose this any further."

"The human knows?" the woman burst out laughing, a foul smile across her face.

"Yes, I know!" Quinn said with raised voice, rendering everyone silent: "We have discussed it at length and I am more than fine with it. It is a matter of the past that should not be brought up again."

Santana smiled proudly as she saw the stunned faces among the council and her smile only grew when she heard her Father sigh and dismissing them all because they were giving him a terrible headache.

The hearing would continue the next day and that was the end of it.

Santana smiled wickedly, taking Quinn into her arms and spinning her around.

The blonde blushed embarrassed, whispering in the angel's ear: "I just lied to God and a room full of Saints.."

Santana laughed: "And you did it splendidly!"

"Will you tell me? About Lucifer?" Quinn asked in the tiniest voice, her fingers playing nervously with Santana's hair.

"If you tell me more about your mother.."

The human took a deep breath, before muttering: "Deal."