AN: I feel the need to warn you guys ahead of time. This is part of the big steps back I was talking about, so please don't hate me! Longer chapter than normal, but it's kind of a bribe since again I'm not sure when I'll update. As usual, R&R
For the first time in a month, Quinn was feeling hopeful. As she walked to glee, she couldn't help reflecting on the week. The cheerio hadn't left Rachel's side, refusing to let the girl's small semblance of trust falter for even a second. Rachel seemed to have become accustomed to her company, even if the rest of the school wasn't taking the change in stride. Chief among them was Sam, who saw their newfound friendship as an inconvenience. His confident attitude was gone, replaced by a sulkiness that was mirrored in his best friend's face. Finn didn't seem to be too thrilled about his two ex-girlfriends hanging out, and he had taken to shooting them suspicious looks along with Sam whenever he saw them.
This more than anything had Rachel on edge, and she would tense whenever she locked eyes with Finn until Quinn ushered her away. Except for those few instances, Rachel seemed to be doing better. She had even willingly gone to glee with Quinn, and had looked somewhat less miserable when the cheerio sat next to her. The other glee members had edged away from the pair, looking as if they expected the four horsemen of the apocalypse to come charging into the small choir room. Brittany was the only one who hadn't looked completely shocked, and she had waved and given them a thumbs up.
After glee, Brittany had come up to them and given Rachel two boxes of band aids, telling her that she hoped the rainbows on them would make her better. Rachel had managed to stutter out a thank you and Brittany had given her a hug before skipping back to a disgruntled Santana. There were still moments when Rachel thought Quinn wasn't looking when the sadness would show through her eyes, reminding the blonde that things still weren't okay. As much as it bothered her, Quinn had expected it. Rachel had been tormented for over two years (mostly by her), and she couldn't expect everything to be better in a week.
Quinn walked inside the choir room expecting to see Rachel in her usual seat, but was surprised to see that it was empty. She would probably be there soon, she assured herself, smoothing out her skirt before sitting down in her usual seat next to Rachel's.
Glancing around the room, she noticed Sam and Finn looking at her and talking in hushed tones. Finn was nudging Sam and trying to subtly point towards her. Sam was shaking his head nervously and running his hand through his hair, but Finn was persistent. Sam muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a curse before he stood up and started moving towards Quinn.
He stood awkwardly in front of her and raised a hand in greeting, but she lifted an eyebrow and fixed him with a withering look.
"Uh hey," he greeted, turning his head to look at Finn who prompted him to go on.
"I just wanted to tell you that I get it and I'll be a better boyfriend, so you can stop spending so much time with Rachel."
He looked at Finn again who grinned and gave him an encouraging nod.
"Is that so?" Quinn drawled, leaning back in her chair, an air of indifference radiating off of her.
"Yeah, I really like you, Quinn, and I don't like it when we're fighting," he rushed on, emboldened by her lack of a response, "so since I said I'd try harder, would you like to go to Breadstix with me tonight?"
Quinn resisted the impulse to rip the goofy grin right off of his face, choosing instead to stand up so that she was face to face with Sam, "You think that's what this was about?"
"Well, yeah I mean why else would you hang out with Rachel?" Sam asked confusedly.
The cheerleader through her hands in the air in frustration, "because she's my friend, Sam! Was that too much of a foreign concept for you to wrap you brain around?"
By now their argument was attracting the attention of their fellow glee clubbers. Mercedes and Tina were whispering to each other, their eyes never leaving the scene folding out in front of them, while Puck's eyes darted between Sam and Quinn like he was watching a tennis match.
Great. The last thing she needed was her fight with Sam to go public. Quinn growled and grabbed her boyfriend's wrist, dragging him out of the room to a more private place where she could yell at him without an audience.
Once they were out of the room, she dropped his wrist and started down the hallway, expecting him to keep up. On her left, she saw an empty classroom and she hurled open the door, stalking inside with Sam following close behind.
"Uh why did you just storm off like that?" he asked, jerking his thumb behind him and raising his eyebrows at her.
"Because I don't want everyone watching us fight," Quinn snapped, crossing her arms defensively.
"Oh, okay…" Sam trailed off still looking perplexed.
Quinn rolled her eyes, "so why is Rachel being my friend such a problem for you?"
Sam shrugged and scuffed his shoe against the floor, "Because it's weird. Ever since I've gotten here, you've made it clear you hate her and now all of a sudden you two are best friends? I'm not stupid, Quinn."
The cheerio huffed and took a step closer to him, "I'm getting really tired of people questioning my friendship with Rachel. I know we didn't exactly get along in the past –"
Sam snorted at this, but Quinn continued, " – but things change."
"When will you stop this and just come back to me already?" Sam said, his voice starting to get louder.
"There's nothing for me to stop!" Quinn yelled back, jabbing her index finger into his chest so hard he winced, "you are the one who is convinced that this is some elaborate scheme to get you to admit your sorry when really I could care less! I told you Rachel is my friend and that's the truth. This has nothing to do with you!"
Sam shoved her hand away and glared back at her, "Fine. Go back to your 'friend' Quinn," He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he put air quotes around the last part of his sentence.
"I will!" Quinn snarled, taking a few steps toward the exit.
"And for the record, I'd rather hang out with Rachel than you and your self-absorbed ass any day," she whispered to herself as she left.
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When Rachel entered the choir room, she was slightly worried to see that Quinn wasn't there yet. She shrugged it off and started heading to corner, certain that she was just running late.
"Oh there you are," Santana said, her eyes alight with mischief, "we were wondering where blondie had left you."
Rachel flinched at the verbal assault, but she couldn't stop her curiosity, "And why is that, Santana?"
"Well you see," the Latina continued, stepping off the riser and moving towards Rachel, "Barbie was having a very interesting conversation about you with Ken a couple minutes ago."
"Oh?" Rachel inquired, shrinking as Santana continued to advance.
"Aren't you curious to know what it was about?" the girl asked, her smirk sending warning bells off in Rachel's head.
"Well?" Santana prompted, her smirk growing as she saw the fear in her prey's eyes.
"I'd rather not. The subject of Quinn's discussions with her boyfriend is none of my concern."
Santana laughed, "Wow. After weeks of barely talking, I thought you had forgotten how to rant, Stubbles."
"Santana, stop it," a voice behind Santana called.
A flash of uncertainty passed over the Latina's eyes as she glanced back at Brittany. Her best friend was biting her lip nervously and looked ready to interfere.
"Don't, Britt. Rachel and I are just having a conversation."
Brittany's face fell at the tone in Santana's voice and she got up from her place in the risers.
"I mean it, San." She warned softly, "Quinn will get mad at you again if you don't back off."
"Tubbers isn't here!" Santana snapped, "and I'm sure she's just dying to know why."
The girl's fiery gaze turned back towards Rachel, who knew then that the proverbial shit was about to hit the fan.
"Quinn and her carbon blonde copy are busy fighting about you. Apparently she's just using you as an excuse to avoid him," Santana taunted, reveling in the power she held over the brunette.
Rachel felt her stomach drop down to her feet. It couldn't be true could it? Quinn wouldn't use her, she cared about her right? She looked wildly around the room, waiting for someone, anyone to speak up and say Santana was lying. No one did.
Rachel let out a tiny sob and reached blindly for the door handle, feeling the small bit of confidence she had gained back crumble. She managed to yank the door open and flee the room, not knowing where she was going. Disjointed thoughts ran through her mind as her feet continued to run, trying to leave behind Santana's sickening smile. She should never have let anyone get close to her. It only made it easier for people to hurt her. A familiar weight was being pushed on her chest and she gasped, stumbling in her frantic flight.
Quinn. She needed Quinn. No. That would only make things worse. She clutched her bag closer to her side, as the other, no, the only soution occurred to her. Rachel looked at where her feet had taken her, and she wasn't surprised to find herself outside of the bathroom. It seemed her body knew what she needed. Tears streamed down her face as she pushed open the door, knowing that this emotional pain was seconds away from becoming a distant memory.
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When Quinn slipped back into the room, she noticed the air was charged with tension, which all of a sudden seemed to be directed at her. Everyone looked wary, like she was a wild animal loose from her cage that could attack them at any minute.
"What's going on?" she asked, her suspicion evident as she took a few tentative steps into the room.
The tension thickened as her question remained unanswered. Santana was glaring pointedly at Tina who had opened her mouth. The girl quickly closed it and buried herself further into Mike's protective arms.
"Brittany?" Quinn pleaded, feeling like it was a little bit of a low blow to appeal to the blonde, "what's going on?"
Santana's dark eyes flickered to her friend, who set her jaw and met Quinn's gaze.
"Santana made Rachel cry."
Quinn's eyes whipped back to Santana who was smirking triumphantly, leaning back in her seat like she didn't have a care in the world.
"So what if I did?" she said airily, "It's not like you're going to anything about it. You're all talk, Q."
"What the hell is wrong with you, Santana?" Quinn spat, feeling as if she would like nothing more than to slap her.
"Nothing," Santana retorted, "I just told the midget that you and Ladylips were arguing, and she took the news kind of hard."
"It wasn't necessary. Not even Rachel deserved that, Santana," Mercedes scolded, looking at the girl with disapproval.
"And since when did you start sticking up for her?" Quinn shot, her fury directed toward the other diva, who seemed taken aback.
"In fact when was the last time any of you gave a damn about what happens to Rachel?" She asked, turning her attention to the rest of the room.
"Have any of you noticed how much she's changed?" She took the time to look each of them in the eye before answering her own question.
"Of course you have, but you weren't gong to do anything about it. You've torn her down and used her as your personal punching bag again and again, not caring how badly she got hurt because you think it's just Rachel she's used to it she can take it," she mocked.
"Well I'm sick of it. Rachel is a freaking shell of herself because of you people, so do her a favor and leave her alone."
As the last words of her tirade faded into the air, the full meaning of Brittany's words came crashing down on her. If Santana had made Rachel cry then….
"Where's Rachel?" Quinn asked, the calm in her tone forced as her heart started beating faster with fear.
"She ran out of the room," Tina answered quietly, still looking slightly fearful of Quinn.
The cheerio was moving before her mind could catch up, hurling open the door she had just entered and running down the hallway. Bathroom. Rachel would go to a bathroom if she wanted to – no. She wouldn't let herself finish that thought. She came to the bathroom at the end of the hallway and hurled it open, expecting the worst. It was empty. She stood frozen in the doorway, chest heaving from the adrenaline still pumping through her veins. Maybe she had gone to her car or – shit. Mentally she smacked herself; she might have gone to the bathroom at the other end of the hallway. Quinn was sprinting back the way she had come bypassing the glee room until she came to a stop outside yet another bathroom door. Tentatively she pushed open the door, and felt a similar rush of disappointment mixed in with relief when she saw it was empty. Until she noticed the largest of the stalls was locked.
Please God please don't let it be her. Taking a deep breath she called hesitantly, "Rachel?"
An answering sob came from the stall. Quinn started forward and rapped hard on the stall door.
"Rachel? Let me in," she pleaded, the panic making it difficult for her to talk.
She pushed against the door uselessly, but it wouldn't budge, and the whimpers were getting softer. In desperation, Quinn got down on all fours and managed to slip under the small space between the door and the floor. A small figure was curled up on the opposite side of the stall, staring at her. No, that wasn't right. Staring through her. Rachel's eyes were glazed over, and in the loose grip of her right hand was a razor blade. Blood was seeping from fresh cuts on her wrists and already it had started to drip onto the floor. That wasn't all. Long gashes on Rachel's leg had left it stained red, the trails of blood looking almost innocent, like a painting project gone wrong.
Quinn didn't feel the tears fall from her eyes as she moved to Rachel, tangling her hands in the brown hair and pulling her close. Rachel didn't react, just lying in Quinn's embrace, idly tracing the new cuts on her wrist while Quinn sobbed. The blonde snatched the razor from the girl's loose grip, throwing it as far from Rachel as possible, who didn't make a move to stop her. Quinn gently cradled the girl's wrist in her hands, looking at the gashes that may as well have been slashed across her heart with how she was feeling.
"Rach?" Quinn whimpered, her voice starting to crack, "Rach, please look at me."
Rachel slowly lifted her head, and Quinn could see only deadness in her eyes.
"Oh god, Rach," she whispered, pulling the diva close to her again, not caring if the blood got on her uniform.
The blood. Oh. She had to stop the blood. Quinn looked around quickly for any bandages, and nearly started crying in relief when she found them next to Rachel.
"I'm going to start wrapping your arm now," she said out loud, her voice still thick with tears. She was talking mostly to keep her hands from shaking, since she didn't expect Rachel to respond.
Steeling herself, she started wind the bandage around Rachel's wounds, hoping that it was tight enough to stop the bleeding. She noticed some of Brittany's band aids on Rachel's arms, and she flinched. Once both wrists were done, she turned her attention to the diva's leg, which was still bleeding rather badly. Disentangling herself from Rachel, Quinn got up and grabbed a handful of paper towels. She started to press on the wound, watching the brunette carefully for any signs that she was causing her pain. Rachel's expression remained deadpanned. The paper towels were covered in blood by the time Quinn judged it was okay to wrap Rachel's leg without the gauze being soaked through.
"Okay," Quinn breathed shakily, tears still falling down her cheeks, "I'm going to help you stand up."
Bending down, Quinn put an arm behind Rachel's back to support her as she hoisted her onto her feet. Rachel started to sway dangerously and she whimpered as she put weight on her injured leg. The cheerio steadied her though, and the pair started to limp to the stall door. Quinn somehow managed to unlock it with Rachel still draped over her, and they started hobbling to the bathroom door. Quinn made sure no students were in the hallway before, starting off to the parking lot, still supporting Rachel.
Rachel was in no position to drive, and Quinn had no intention of leaving her alone. But who's car should she take? She spotted Rachel's car parked closer than her own and started heading towards it. By the time she reached the car, she was out of breath and starting to sweat. Carefully, she leaned Rachel on the side of the car, and started fishing through her bag for Rachel's keys. She found them in a small pocket, and unlocked the car. Thankfully Rachel had enough sense to move away from the passenger door so that Quinn could open it and help her in.
The blonde moved to the driver's side, starting the car and slowly pulling out of the parking lot. Getting to Rachel's house was easy, since she had been over there once before to work on a project for school in freshman year. The route had managed to stick in her head, even though it had been almost two years. She pulled up to the plain looking two story house, cutting the engine and glancing at Rachel. The girl was still catatonic, so Quinn got out and moved to her side of the car and gingerly helped her stand. Somehow, she managed to get Rachel up to her room, even though the diva had progressively gotten heavier the longer she carried her. Quinn lay Rachel down on her bed, tucking the covers around her small body before turning to leave.
"Quinn?" Rachel sounded child-like, and when Quinn turned to look at her, the vulnerability in her eyes floored her.
"Don't leave," Rachel whimpered, tears threatening to cascade down her own face, "please don't leave me alone."
Quinn nodded, her throat constricting, "Okay, Rach. I won't."
Quinn moved back to the bed and hesitated briefly before getting in beside Rachel, automatically pulling the girl closer to her.
"You're not alone," she whispered into the brown hair, finally allowing herself to relax when Rachel's whimpers turned into even breaths as she drifted off to sleep.
AN: For the record, I really do love Santana and it kills me to write her this bitchy :(