Author's Note: I know exactly where I want this to go…I'm just not sure how to get there anymore…can you guys help me out a little bit? I'd be really grateful if you could give me an idea on what you all would like to happen…pretty please?

Count To Ten

Chapter 9

Still Monday…

How do you describe the way someone advances on you, getting ready to slap you in the face? Dangerous. How do you describe the pain that slap makes you feel? Stinging. Burning. How do you describe the sound that slap makes? She wouldn't know.

She didn't hear anything. Not Quinn screaming in rage. Not Santana cursing in Spanish. Not the dozens of students in uproar, some of them cheering, most of them outraged and disgusted. She couldn't hear one damn thing except the blood rushing in her ears. And because she couldn't hear, and her vision was clouded by something – not tears, never tears – she wasn't exactly sure what was happening. Hell, she wasn't even sure what had happened.

She remembered Quinn promising a stop the slushy facials and storming out, apparently in search of some pitiful jocks. She remembered going after her, only catching her when she was already in the midst of a dressing down, Santana at her side. She remembered students gathering, anticipating a show. Then one of the jocks noticed her, Grant whatever, and obviously made the connection before Quinn even mentioned the name Rachel Berry. She remembered him looking like he wanted to hit Quinn for embarrassing him and his friends in front of half of the student body. She remembered stepping closer to stop him. And then she remembered nothing, except that he apparently changed his mind about his intended target.

"Rachel", someone shouted, or maybe it was a lot of people shouting her name, but she couldn't be sure, because it was still mostly blood rushing through her that she heard. Her vision, however, slowly cleared, and she could make out Brittany and Kurt in front of her, holding her. Other people were at her side, too, mostly Glee kids, though some of them – including Quinn and Santana – were busy throwing themselves at Grant whatever. Rachel had never been one for violence, but she hoped they got in a few good hits. The rest of the students – no teachers in sight, of course – either stood at the sidelines or helped keeping Grant down. Why, she wasn't sure. It wasn't like he could get away with Noah and Mike sitting on him. They didn't seem to care that they received some of the more badly placed hits. Take one for the team, Finn would say. Grant's team seemed to follow the same rule; they let him take the beating and just watched the whole thing.

And then Quinn seemed to finally forget about her rage and remember about Rachel. She let go of her punching bag and rushed to Rachel's side, cradling her, taking the one hand that wasn't busy gripping onto Kurt's shirt for dear life. Santana delivered one final blow and then came to stand with her fellow clubbers. Slowly, the guys one by one followed and Grant was finally able to stand up, hurryingly grabbing his stuff and shoving his way through the crowd. He was fleeing, and it gave Rachel an odd form of satisfaction. The bell sounded, signaling the break was over, and while some students kept lingering around unsurely, most of them went along their way to their classrooms. Minutes later, it was only the Glee club that was still standing in the hallways.

Someone suggested retreating to the band room, and someone gave her a gentle push in the right direction when she seemed confused about where to go. She was sat in a stool, brought something to drink and asked repeatedly if she was okay. Someone closed the door. Someone wrapped a blanket around her. And then, everyone was silent.

She didn't care about any of that. She only cared that during all this, Quinn had never once let go of her hand.

"Rachel?", Tina asked, surprisingly the first to break the heavy silence.

The girl in question didn't answer.

"She's not crying", Mercedes said into the room, her voice thick, as if that was exactly what she wanted to do.

"Rachel, honey", Kurt tried.

"What?", she asked tiredly. Quinn's hand held hers tightly and she just wanted to savior this feeling and fall asleep with it, right then and there.

"Grant, he…", Finn started, but didn't finish his sentence. Rachel wondered if he was for once being tactful.

"He slapped you", Noah provided. A few pairs of eyes shot to him, and he immediately looked down timidly. "Sorry", he muttered.

"Are you okay?", Brittany asked, for about the hundredth time.

"I'm fine", Rachel answered, her grip on Quinn's hand never loosening.

"We should give her some space", the blonde suggested, though it came out as more of an order. It was the first thing she had said after beating Grant to a pulp (well, not really a pulp, but a girl could dream, right?), and it wasn't because she didn't have anything to say. She just didn't think most of the stuff that went through her head would be helpful. Mostly because it would be illegal.

"Q, the prick needs to pay!", Santana exclaimed. Evidently, this was what the boys had waited for - someone to declare war. Immediately, they all voiced their agreement, comparing plans and methods, excitement and urgency making their voices come together to an unbearable noise. Rachel suddenly felt dizzy.

"Rachel?", she heard Quinn's voice.

"I think she's in shock", Mercedes stated.

"I'm fine", the brunette insisted.

"You're not fine!", Finn shouted. "That asshole slapped you!"

"Finn!", a chorus of angry voices shouted back.

Rachel closed her eyes, willing herself not to lose her mind. She was somewhere between falling asleep, so unbelievably tired from everything that happened that day, and bursting with a kind of energy that was mostly made of adrenaline. Quinn's thumb ran circles on the back of her hand and she couldn't decide if that added to her tiredness or her resolve to hold out until she was in the safety of her bed. In any case, it angered her that her friends seemed to have no problem addressing the incident, while at the same time refusing to call it what it was. "He did", she agreed, in a voice that gave no emotion away. "And you beat him up for it. I think he paid enough."

"What?" This time, the chorus was directed at her.

"He slapped you!", Santana yelled.

"I realize that."

"He slapped you", Kurt emphasized.

"I was there for it, thank you", Rachel replied calmly. The hand that held hers started to shake.

"No, no, he sl-"

What was it with these people? First they didn't want to say it all, and now they couldn't seem to stop saying it!

"If you repeat it one more time, I'm going to throw up."

That worked. The silence was back, and the hand in hers was still.

"You're way too calm about this", Kurt pointed out.

"I'm composed", she countered.

"You're not crying", Mercedes said again.

"So?" The shaking started again, and she briefly wondered if it came from her or from Quinn.

"You're not angry", Tina noted, her tone carrying disbelief.

"You're not running around demanding revenge." That came from Noah.

"You're not holding a speech about human rights." Finn.

"Yes. So?" The second the indifferent words left her mouth, Quinn's warmth left her, too. She'd pulled her hand away and Rachel could see that it was now her whole body that was shaking. But shaking from what? Pent up anger? Anger directed at Grant or at her?

"So, shouldn't you be doing at least one of those things?", Quinn asked, her voice dangerously low. It was true that she might not have anything helpful to add, her mind much too preoccupied with cooking up ways to make sure Rachel would be perfectly safe from now on and with the way it felt to hold her hand, but this was beyond ridiculous. Rachel was not behaving like Rachel at all.

"Why should I?", the diva asked, taking Quinn's hand back in hers, needing that comfort. Quinn didn't refuse, and that made her feel better than it maybe should have.

Santana looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Because he-"

There was the shaking again.

"I swear to god, if one more person tells me that Grant slapped me when I'm clearly aware of that fact, my song choice from now on will solely consist of Barbra Streisand."

Silence again. She'd never thought she'd get her way if she threatened them with vomiting and a woman who'd won just about every important award.

"You can't be satisfied with a little beating. We need to really make him pay", Noah reasoned.

"Enough is enough", Rachel maintained, moving to stand up. Her grip on Quinn's hand (or was it Quinn's grip on hers?) was so strong, she feared bones might break.

"Sit down", Santana barked. Noticing Brittany's disapproving look, she amended, "I mean, wouldn't it be better to stay seated?"

"I'm fine", Rachel repeated her mantra, leaning back in her chair.

"Stop saying that", Santana ordered. Then, realizing her tone, she added "I mean, could you please stop-"

"It's okay, San", Brittany interrupted. "She really does need to stop saying that."

"It's true", Rachel shot back, trying to stand up again. "I am fine."

"Sit the hell down!", Santana shouted, ignoring Brittany's kick to her shin for not behaving and putting her hands on Rachel's shoulders, effectively pushing her back into the chair. "Why are you not listening? God, can't you just do what you're told? You're like a child!"

Up to that point, Quinn had done an exceptional job on not letting her feelings get the best of her, but Rachel was being unreasonable and Santana was lashing out and everyone else was radiating tension and her hand was hurting almost as much as her head now and soon, she was going to say or do something stupid. She was sure of it. She needed something to hold on to. She needed something that explained Rachel's stubbornness. She needed a hint on what exactly went on in that complex mind of hers.

"What do you want to do?", Rachel asked. "Slap some sense into me?"

That did the trick. From that comment, Quinn knew exactly what was going on.

"How can you say that?", the Latina asked shocked.

"I'm sorry, Santana. I didn't mean to imply you'd actually physically hurt me." The obvious remorse in her apology didn't do anything to diffuse the tension in the room.

"No, I mean, how can you joke about this?"

"Easy", Rachel replied. "I'm over it."

"That was fast", Tina muttered.

"Rachel…", Mercedes sighed.

"Okay, so maybe I'm not completely over it. But I'm fine. It's okay. We can all go back to our lives."

"You may be ready to leave this all behind you, but we're not. Grant is an asshole", Noah stressed.

"He's misguided." Clearly, Rachel was intent on downplaying the whole thing.

"He's a bully."

"He made a bad decision in the heat of the moment."

"Honey, why are you defending him?", Kurt asked.

"Because except for this, he's always been an okay guy. I know some of you are friends with him. So he lost it, big deal. I'm sure he's sorry. He isn't worse than the rest of the people here. He's not worse than us", she stated.

"Not worse than us?", Finn questioned, a little insulted. "Where do you get that from?"

Quinn steeled herself for what she knew was going to come. She had figured it out already; hadn't the other's? Did no one see this coming? Did no one notice the glint in Rachel's eyes as she stood up, getting ready for what she was about to dish out?

"Because you", Rachel said, pointing at Santana, "have told me several times that you want to slap me whenever I open my mouth. You belittled me and made fun of me. You told me to move to Israel when I asked for advice on a personal matter."

"You", she went on, turning to Mercedes, "have made what could have been a friendly competition into a battle for friendship. And if I recall correctly, you once planned to lock me in a basement."

"You said I was annoying and obnoxious, only staying in a relationship with me because I have great boobs", she said, looking at Finn.

"You made me dress up as a clown hooker because you wanted to humiliate me", she addressed Kurt.

One by one, she went through them, recalling things they had said or done to her, until only Quinn was left.

"And you", she said, taking a deep breath, "actually slapped me." Quinn flinched, but didn't let go of Rachel's hand. "And no one made such a fuss about it then."

"Then there's me", the brunette continued. "I'm absolutely sure I've done or said something hurtful to every single one of you in the past. We're all guilty of that. We've all hurt each other before, even though we're good people. I'm not condoning Grant's behavior. I'm not making apologies for him. I'm just saying that a lot of things can hurt you, and I, personally, have often felt like someone slapped me in the face. There doesn't need to be actual slapping involved to make you feel that kind of pain."

"Rachel…" And just like before, she didn't know if it was one person or all of them saying her name.

"Don't you get it?", she asked. "It hurts. And right now, I'd really like for him to burn in hell. But I just can't get my head around…I don't know if…we've all forgiven each other, right? We're friends. And I need to find it in me to forgive Grant, too. Because if I can't do that…"

Suddenly, her legs were too weak to hold her up. She didn't fight the tiredness anymore. She didn't fight the tears anymore. She didn't fight anything anymore.

"Are you done?", Quinn asked softly.

Even nodding was almost too strenuous, but somehow, she pulled it off. Sitting down in her chair again, she was surrounded by her friends, wrapped up in their arms, comforted by the knowledge that she hadn't alienated or scared them away.

"I'm here. You can close your eyes. I'm here", Quinn promised. "Everything's going to be okay."

And Rachel believed her.

Later, she would be informed that Grant was suspended. She would be told that when he returned to school, he'd receive a punishment carefully thought out by Coach Beiste and Coach Sylvester. Later, she'd pretend to ignore her fellow Glee clubbers making plans for Grant that involved paint, ropes, glue and – for whatever reason – backing powder. Later, she would find it in herself to apologize for going crazy on them.

But right then, the only thing that mattered was Quinn's hand still firmly in her own, Quinn's soothing voice in her ear, and Quinn promising to not leave her side.