Title: The Unholy Trinity Hangover
Author: Race122VE (Coll)
Pairing: Santana/Brittany, Quinn/Rachel
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Basically The Hangover Brittana/Faberry/Unholy Trinity style. Santana and Brittany take Quinn and Rachel to Vegas for a bachelorette party, wackiness ensues. Glee AU fic.
Word Count: 27,410 ish, completed.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

Chapter 8

A few hours later, and eighty two thousand four hundred dollars richer, they're driving towards the desert under a light, purple sky as the sun begins to rise.

"I don't fucking believe it," Santana laughs as Quinn finishes counting the money. "Britt, baby…you were amazing. I love you."

"Love you too, babe," Brittany smiles back in the rear view.

"We should come back next week, take the whole city down," Santana jokes. "The Unholy Trinity dominates once more."

Brittany claps. "I'm free next week."

"Or," Quinn cuts in. "We can just focus on getting Rachel back right now."

"Oh…you know what, next week's no good for me," Brittany frowns. "Zac Efron's new movie is premiering. Any week after that is totally fine."

"I think it's safe to say our luck is officially turned around," Santana announces happily. "The fucking Unholy Trinity is back, baby. We are fucking back."

"We're back!" Quinn yells out, turning around to high five Brittany and looking the happiest Santana has seen her all day.

They both go back and forth, shouting out 'We're back' and singing and laughing until Brittany breaks out into song, silencing their laughter and forcing them to look questioningly at each other.

And we're the three best friends that anybody could have
We're the three best friends that anyone can have
We're the three best friends that anyone can have
And we'll never ever ever ever ever leave each other

She repeats the song over and over again and Santana nudges Quinn and they sing along for a bit before they're out in the desert and looking for their turn off. Santana pulls up across from the SUV and kills the engine. "Now what?"

"Give them the signal," Brittany nudges her.

"What signal?"

"Flash your lights. Let them know it's on."

"What's on?"

"The deal."

"Of course it's on," Santana says. "We just drove thirty miles into the desert. He knows it's on."

"Just do something!" Quinn shouts.

Santana groans as she reaches for the lights. "Fine."

The lights flash once and Tina and Mike exit from the SUV and walk forward. Santana rolls her eyes as the three of them exit their car and walk up to meet them. "Alright, we got the money," Santana tells them. "Eighty grand. Cash."

"Th-Th-Throw it over," Tina orders. "Then I give you g-g-girl. If you d-d-don't Mike shoots her, then all y-y-you mother fuckers, and then we t-t-take the money. You're ch-ch-choice bitches."

Santana motions for Quinn to toss Tina and Mike the bag, so she throws it over and Mike catches it. He unzips it and begins digging around and counting before giving Tina the OK. "L-L-Let him g-g-go."

The car door opens and Santana can see one of Tina's goons fighting a little with Rachel before yanking the bag off her head. They come around the corner, and he pushes…not Rachel forward. The person that Tina has in her custody is still gagged, a little taller than Rachel, bigger, and black.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Santana asks, her face scrunched up in confusion. "Who the hell is this?"

"That is not Rachel," Quinn shouts.

"W-W-What?" Tina asks back. "That's y-y-you friend."

"No, Tina," Quinn argues back. "That's not my fiancé."

"Yeah," Brittany chimes in. "Rachel's a white."

The girl standing in front of them is being untied before the goon rips the tape off her mouth and she yelps in pain. "Aw hell to the nah," she looks back at Tina. "I told you that you had the wrong girl, little girl."

Tina shrugs and snaps her finger for her henchman to get back in the car. "Damn, Brittany," not Rachel rounds on the blonde as soon as she's set free. "What the fuck you got me into?"

Santana's eyes go wide. "Wait…Brittany you know her?"

"Yeah, she sold me the bad drugs," she smiles in recognition. "How you doing?"

"I didn't sell you any fucking bad drugs."

"Wait," Quinn steps in. "She sold you the roofalin?"

"Roofalin?" not Rachel echoes. "What?"

"Who gives a shit?" Santana screams. "Who are you? Where is Rachel?"

"I'm Mercedes," she tells them. "And I don't know who the fuck Rachel is."

"Hey Tina," Santana yells out to the girl about to climb into the SUV. "You gave us the wrong person."

"N-N-Not my p-p-problem."

"Fuck that shit," she fires back. "You give us our eighty grand back and take her with you."

"I am not going back with her," Mercedes shakes her head and crosses her arms, decided.

Tina is just laughing. "Oh y-y-yeah I'll just take her b-b-back. Right after you b-b-blow me. S-S-So long b-b-bitches."

Once Tina's in the car it pulls away, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. Quinn leans back against the car and buries her face in her hands as her body begins to shake and her loud sobs fill the empty desert.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have Rachel back, they should be getting their shit together and heading back to LA for the wedding. All the work, everything they did the previous day, was for fucking nothing. They were back at square one and Santana can't stay calm anymore.

"God damn it!" she cries out.

"Gosh darn it," Brittany parrots, but not as loudly as Santana and not nearly filled with as much rage.

Normally she'd think it was cute, but not in this hopeless moment. "Shit!"

"Shoot!"

Her feet kick at the rocks bellow. It doesn't really help ease her anger, just surrounds them in more dust as the moment she's been dreading fast approaches.

It's finally time to call Kurt.

xxxxx

"Can I get a lift back to town?"

Santana takes a few steps away from the car after glaring at Mercedes for asking for a ride back while Quinn and Brittany look back at her, numb and stunned. She can't deal with this right now cause Kurt just picked up and his voice is eerily low and he flat out tells her that everyone's freaking out.

"I got a question for you," Quinn looks at Mercedes. "How did you wind up in Tina's car?"

"That crazy ass bitch kidnapped me yesterday," Mercedes replies.

"OK, but why?" Quinn presses on. "Why you?"

"She thought I was with you guys," Mercedes tells them. "Cause we were all hangin at the Bellagio."

"What?"

Brittany blinks. "We were at the Bellagio?"

"Yeah," Mercedes nods. "We were shootin craps, don't you remember?"

"No. No, we don't remember," Quinn spits back. "Cause some fucking bitch drug dealer sold her roofalin and told her it was Ecstasy."

"Roofalin," Mercedes repeats. "There you go with that word. Roofalin. Roofalin. What the hell is a roofalin?"

"Wow," Quinn says back, shocked. "You are the world's shittiest drug dealer. Roofalin, for your information, is the 'date rape' drug. You sold Brittany roofies."

Mercedes frowns. "Aww shit I musta mixed up the bags. My fault, Brittany."

Brittany gives a kind of half shrug from and Quinn shakes her head in disbelief. "Whatever."

"It's funny," Mercedes chuckles. "Cause just the other day me and my friend were wonderin why they even call them roofies. You know what I'm talkin about?"

"No. Don't know what you're talking about."

"Why not floories, right?" Mercedes continues on. "Cause when you take em, you're more likely to end up on the floor then the roof. What about groundies? That's a good, new name for em."

"How bout rapies?" Brittany offers.

"Wait," Quinn holds a hand up as a thought begins forming in her mind. "What did you just say?"

"Rapies."

"Not you," Quinn shakes her head. "Mercedes. What did you say before?"

"I said groundies."

"No, before that," Quinn presses. "You said, 'you're more likely to wind up on a floor…than…

"Santana!"

She turns her head slightly at her name, but keeps talking to Kurt. She already told him they lost Rachel and she's about to explain exactly how that happened, all the while throwing in apologies for ruining today.

But she doesn't get the chance.

Quinn slams into her from behind and the phone flies out of her hand as she gets a mouthful of dirt. She's coughing and can't speak or yell like she wants to and Quinn pushes her further into the ground as she scrambles over Santana's body to grab the phone.

"Kurt, it's Quinn."

"Quinn," Kurt breathes out. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

"Uh…nothing…d-don't listen to Santana…she's, um…completely out of her mind. Probably still drunk," Quinn stammers as Santana tries to push herself up but is still too winded. "Rachel is…uh…paying the bill. We just had a delicious brunch and…we're in a big hurry to get back so…we gotta get going. OK, bye."

"Wait…Quinn-"

But Quinn flips the phone shut and turns back to Santana. She grabs Santana's shirt to try and help her up, but Santana's pissed and still coughing up dirt and shoves Quinn away. "What the fuck, Quinn?"

Quinn should be quivering in fear cause Santana's pretty much ready to flip her fucking shit on her friend, but Quinn has a huge smile on her face. "I know where Rachel is."

xxxxx

"I don't know, S. It just hit me," Quinn says as they zoom back to their hotel. "Remember when we saw Rachel's mattress impaled on that statue?"

Santana shrugs, "Yeah. It's because we threw it out the window."

" No. Impossible," Quinn shoots back. "You can't open windows in Vegas hotels."

"Well then how did it get…?" Santana trails off as her mind wanders.

She's not thinking about last night or the day from hell they had just been though. No, Santana, following Quinn's train of thought, starts thinking about summer camp.

"Oh…my…God!"

Quinn starts laughing with Santana, but Brittany's in the back with Mercedes looking confused. "Wait. What's going on?"

"Rachel was trying to signal someone," Quinn says. "Mercedes made me realize it."

"So…Rachel is…where?"

"She's on the roof, Britt," Santana tells her. "We must have taken her up there on her mattress as a prank so she'd wake up on the roof. Like that one time in summer camp when we moved that one girl's sleeping bag out into the jetty in the lake."

"That was hilarious." Quinn's laughter dies down. "Not so funny…now though cause we forgot where we put her."

"Ya'll are fucking stupid," Mercedes says as she leans back in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest. "You know that?"

"Holy shit…" Santana says, ignoring Mercedes and smiling hopefully at Quinn. "Do you think she's still up there?"

Quinn shrugs as she steps harder on to the gas. "Only one way to find out."

xxxxx

Santana's pretty sure they've knocked over several people once they get to the hotel and start running towards the elevators. They push their way into one and head straight up to the roof, where it all started. Quinn's out the door first, running around and calling out Rachel's name while Santana looks on the other side and Brittany takes the time to move the cinderblock in front of the door so they don't get locked out.

"She's over here!"

Looking over, Santana sees Quinn and Brittany running towards a small, huddled brunette and she throws her head back on her shoulders and thanks whatever God is out there that Rachel is alive and not missing any more. She jogs over to where Quinn is peppering Rachel's face with thankful kisses before pulling the tiny brunette to her feet.

Rachel's shaky, with good reason, and her skin is much, much darker than the last time Santana saw her. "You're OK, baby," Quinn keeps mumbling over and over. "You're OK."

"What the fuck is going on?"

Rachel, unsurprisingly, is not as happy to see them as they are to see her.

"We really should get going," Brittany reminds them, even though she's smiling and bouncing where she stands. "We can explain everything on the way. There's a lot."

"Hey, Berry," Santana waves, approaching Rachel cautiously. "You OK?"

"No," Rachel answers right away. "Not OK."

Santana winces. "Well…you look good. Got some color. I'm jealous."

Rachel's expression hasn't changed, she's just shifting her gaze blankly between the three of them before stopping at Quinn. "We're getting married today."

"Yes," Santana chimes in. "Berry that's why you need to focus and do everything we say cause, frankly, you're wasting a lot of time right now."

After a beat, Rachel screams, "You fucking asshole!"

Now…Santana's been tased today, she's been attacked by a tiger, she got beat up by a half naked Asian chick, she's been knocked down in every way you can be knocked down today so she's pretty shocked that when Rachel launches her entire, small body into Santana it fucking hurts. She's impressed, scared and in pain but Rachel manages to take her down.

They hot the roof with a thud and she's expecting to be pummeled with tiny fists, but Rachel cries out in pain and rolls on to her back. "Oh! Oh, my skin burns," Rachel whimpers as Quinn and Brittany lean over to try to help her. "Don't touch me!"

They back off, Brittany moving to help Santana up as Rachel tries to breathe through the burning pain. "Don't touch me," she repeats. "Just get me home. I just want to go home."