A/N: I swear I had every intention of posting this when I said I was going to, it's just that other junk got in the way. I'm in the process of joining the army, which has caused a ridiculous amount of stress. I won't bore you with specifics; just know that I really am sorry. Much love, everyone.

Quinn and I drove around for what seemed like hours and still there was no sign of Santana. With each minute that passed I could see Quinn's frustration growing, the concern for her best friend reflected in her clenched jaw and tight grip on the steering wheel. We had been all around town, visiting the places that Quinn, Brittany, and Santana used to visit as the Unholy Trinity, and still nothing. I had tried to give Quinn some suggestions as to where Santana could be, but it wasn't received well.

"Perhaps we could try the fountain—"

"No, Rachel, she wouldn't be there. You don't know her like I-shit. I'm sorry, Rachel. I didn't mean to snap at you."

I gave her a small smile and turned back to stare out the window, pretending to be interested in the passing scenery. "No harm done, Quinn."

Quinn grunted softly and slowed the car to a stop.

"Quinn, we need to keep going, Santana could be—"

"Santana can wait a minute, alright? I'm sorry for snapping at you, and before you interrupt me like I know you're going to, yes, it is a big deal. I promised myself I wouldn't treat you with anything less than the respect you deserve, so. I'm sorry."

As I continued to stare in awe, I could see Quinn start to grow uncomfortable. I placed a hand softly on her knee and leaned in, placing a light kiss against her cheek. Her eyes snapped to meet mine, a splash of pink beginning to show where I had kissed her. She lifted her hand up slowly and placed it on her cheek, a smile beginning to grow.

"Quinn. It's fine. I promise you. You're worried for both of your friends, and I understand that."

Before she was able to respond, my phone chimed loudly with the sound of an incoming text message. Quinn leaned over slightly to get a better look, and I eyed her suspiciously. I sighed softly, knowing what it was she was looking for.

"You don't have to worry. It wasn't Hadley. It's Brittany. She said that we should try the playground."

Quinn leaned back in her seat, the blush on her cheeks back in full force.

"I didn't—I mean, I'm not—ergh. I'm sorry. Wait, what did you say? The playground? I'm such an idiot! That should have been the first place we checked."

Honestly? That was the last place I'd imagine Santana to be, unless she planned on tormenting school children, which seemed improbable considering school wasn't currently in session.

"Why the playground, Quinn? I don't understand."

Quinn started the car, the sound of its smooth engine cutting into the night.

"It's their place. It's always been their place. Ever since they were both little, and Santana took to protecting Brittany from the schoolyard bullies."

Quinn must have seen the anger in my eyes because she held up a hand to silence me.

"I know what you're going to say, but you have to understand. Brittany is a beautiful person, inside and out, trust me, I know that. But to other people, other cruel people who have nothing better to do than to tear down probably the only genuinely kind person I know, she's a target."

How anyone could be cruel to Brittany was just beyond me. She really was the sweetest person I had ever met, and trying to imagine someone wanting to hurt her was utterly ridiculous, and left me fuming.

"It was tough for Britt in the beginning. As corny as it sounds, I sometimes think that Brittany is just too sweet for this world, and it worked against her. But, eventually the time came when Brittany had something in her corner that everyone else on the playground lacked."

"I couldn't stop the grin that began to form. "Santana. She had Santana in her corner."

Quinn returned my grin and nodded. "That's right. When she and Santana became friends, the taunts stopped as quickly as they had started, and soon Brittany was overwhelmed with chocolates and stuffed animals from bullies who wouldn't dare make eye contact."

I laughed openly at that, although I probably shouldn't have found it funny, given my own personal experiences regarding bullies and the like.

"So, tell me more about Santana and Brittany. How exactly did they get to where they are now?"

Quinn shook her head, smiling apologetically. "That isn't my story to tell. I have no doubt that if you ask Brittany, she'll be more than willing to share every little detail with you. All I can tell you is that it's always been the two of them, taking on the world together."

I frowned at that, and Quinn glanced at me questioningly. "The two of them seem so in tune with one another and so close, inseparable, even. Being sent away must have been so hard on Brittany."

Quinn chuckled lightly. "Actually, it was the other way around. Brittany is a lot stronger than you give her credit for, and Santana…well, sometimes, as we both know, her emotions get the best of her. I can't tell you the number of times she's called me up in the past, crying over the phone because she missed Britt so much."

Now that I didn't expect. I always imagined Santana to be the steadfast one in their relationship. It wasn't that I didn't think Brittany capable; it was just the general aura of unwavering confidence that Santana seemed to exude made me think that she was the anchor that kept them both grounded. There was so much more to these two girls than met the eye, that much was certain. It made me wonder about the many generalizations I had in mind concerning Quinn, and how utterly far from the truth I really was. Quinn's soft voice broke through the silence that had settled over us, and I realized that we had arrived.

I leaned forward in my seat, trying to get a better look, the seatbelt keeping me firmly in place.

"Okay, so. Playground shrouded in darkness, and eerie wind present to accompany this already unsettling idea. Lovely."

Quinn smirked and unclasped her belt. "It's okay, Rachel. You can stay here. I'll try to make this quick." She opened the door and I grabbed her arm tightly.

"Quinn Fabray! You would really leave me alone in this car, completely vulnerable so that any random passerby could simply swoop in and take me away to their secret hideout and do god knows what to me!"

Quinn blinked a few times and then squinted her eyes, trying to figure out if I was being serious or not.

"…Of course not, Rach. What kind of person would I be if I did that?"

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and stared at her. "Exactly!"

She shook her head and jogged to my side of the car, opening the door and putting her hand out for me to take. I raised my eyebrow, but she didn't move.

"Milady."

I took her hand and stepped out of the car, some of my previous anxiety dissipating.

"My, what a gentleman." She rolled her eyes and shut the door behind me.

"Oh hey, I think that's her. Let's go." She pointed in the distance but all I could make out was the shadowy figure on the swings that could maybe have been Santana. Or maybe not.

"Quinn! Are you crazy? You don't know if that's her or not!"

Quinn sighed and placed her hands on my shoulders, a sincere look in her eyes. "I'll go first. Just make sure to stay behind me, okay? That way if this isn't Santana, and is in actuality some crazy chainsaw wielding freak, you can go run for help and tell everyone that I valiantly went first to protect you."

I stomped my foot and shoved her lightly. "Lucy Quinn Fabray, you take that back this instant!"

She wrinkled her nose and then glanced back up. "Let's go. Brittany is probably worried sick about all of us. We need to set Santana straight so those two can go back to being ridiculously sappy."

The mention of Brittany's name made me realize what was truly at stake here. How would Santana react upon our arrival, and was she just as angry as before? What was to become of their relationship? The thoughts rushing through my head scared me immensely. I didn't like the idea of Santana without Brittany and Brittany without Santana; it just seemed so…wrong.

I clutched Quinn's arm tightly as we made our way towards the figure on the swing; she glanced down at me and nodded before moving forward. The closer we got, the tighter I held onto her arm, and I could feel her start to squirm. "Rachel, it's okay—gah, you're gonna rip my arm off."

I was about to protest when a soft voice interrupted.

"It's fine, hobbit. It's just me."

The sound of Santana's low voice was like a beacon of light in the darkness; I lit up immediately and ran towards her, unaware of what it was I was really doing. I ran at her at full Berry speed, wrapping my arms tightly around her. A moment later, I realized my error, and pulled away quickly.

"I'm so sorry, Santana. I don't know what came over me. It's just, you're here, and you're okay, and that makes me unbelievably—oh my god, what happened to your face!"

My hands went to my mouth to cover my obvious shock. When I hugged her, I didn't bother to glance at her face, but now that I pulled away, it was revealed in all its ghastly awe. Her lower lip was puffy, with a bit of blood trickling down the side. When she noticed my unabashed staring, she idly wiped at her mouth with the side of her jacket, and looked off into the distance.

It was then that I noticed her eyes. Her left eye was badly bruised and appeared as though it would close at any moment. If possible, her right eye was even worse; reflected back was sorrow so deep I felt my heart clench at the sight. When she chuckled softly, I glanced at her, my mouth agape.

"Ouch, Berry. You know, that's not very nice; I was born this way. I can't help the way my face turned out."

I knew that she was trying to make a joke to ease the tension, but it did nothing to help; if anything, it made it worse. Her voice lacked the sarcastic undertone that I had grown (not unhappily) used to. This person before me was not the Santana I had come to know and respect.

This was nothing more than a shell.

I glanced back at Quinn, forgetting momentarily that she was behind me, and had yet to say anything. She was studying Santana closely, an unreadable expression in her eyes. Santana glanced up and stared back, mirroring Quinn's expression.

"We gonna do this or are you just going to stand there and stare at me all night."

Quinn scoffed and stepped closer. "Let me see your hands."

Santana drew in a deep breath and presented her hands to Quinn. Her face looked unscathed in comparison to her bruised and bloody knuckles. Not a single knuckle wasn't covered shiny, still wet blood; I felt my stomach churn at the sight.

"Santana..why…what—"

"When she's upset, Santana likes to pick fights two different things; one, she enjoys berating the local bikers that frequent the bars of Lima—and two, she enjoys boxing matches with brick walls. My best friend, ladies and gentlemen."

Santana continued to glare and then turned to face me, letting out a grunt of pain with her effort.

"It's fine, Berry. No need to worry about Autie Tana; I can handle myself just fine."

Quinn growled and moved forward. "What would she say if she saw you like this? What would Britt—"

The scream that followed this scared me so badly that I jumped back, not ashamed of using Quinn to hide behind.

"Don't! Don't you dare speak that fucking name, you hear me, Fabray? Just don't."

Santana was standing now, visibly shaking. Quinn didn't budge an inch; she continued to stare at Santana, unflinchingly.

"You know that Bri—that she didn't do this. You know it, I know it."

Santana paced back and forth, her voice raising an octave. "Do I? Do I really, Quinn? Because frankly, I'm not convinced. This would have been the perfect escape for her. Her perfect chance to be free of…whatever this is."

Quinn stepped forward and placed her hands on Santana's shaking shoulders. "I think that's what you want to believe. I think that you see this as a way to let her go, once and for all."

I guess it was just me, and I was missing something that was fairly obvious to the both of them.

"Wait…I don't understand. You want to leave her? Please be so kind as to explain this to me, because I have no idea what is going on."

Quinn squeezed Santana's arm and then turned to face me. "She doesn't think she's good enough for Brittany. She never has, really. She may deny it, but I've seen it."

A loud scoff was heard. "Thank you, Dr. Phil. Jesus Quinn, why the hell are you still a cheerleader? You should have your own goddamn talk show."

Quinn remained unwavering. "I can see it in her eyes when she thinks no one is looking. She looks at Brittany like she's going to disappear at any moment. Like she really doesn't deserve—"

"Because I fucking don't, alright?! I don't deserve her! She needs to be with someone who isn't a fuckup like me, someone who will treat her better than I do."

I walked up to her and tilted her chin down until we were looking eye to eye. "Someone like Cameron, you mean?"

She sniffed loudly and jerked her head away. "Yeah. Yeah, someone like her." She tried to sound like she meant it, but I was not convinced.

"You can't possibly be serious right now. You two are perfect together. I can't think of two people more meant for each other than the two of you."

Santana's little murmur of 'I can' and her glance towards myself and Quinn was not lost on me, but I chose to ignore it.

"Brit—ugh, fuck me. She is something beautiful and pure in this cruel, fucked up world we live in. She needs someone untarnished; not me."

"That is complete and utter bullshit and you know it."

Santana clenched her hands into fists and stood tall.

"She needs someone who can physically be there for her when she's sad. She needs someone who can fucking hold her and tell her everything's gonna be alright." Tears began streaming down her face, but she paid them no mind.

"She needs someone who can walk around with her in the middle of the day without fear of being caught, someone who can take care of her when she's sick, someone who can make her feel like she is the center of their goddamn universe, because she is worth fucking so much more than that." She let out a loud sob and dropped to the ground. Quinn and I both rushed in, Quinn wrapping her arms securely around Santana's waist, me kneeling beside her.

"You know," Quinn whispered softly, "to Brittany, you are all of those things and more. She sees no other person in this world the way she sees you. To her, you're everything, Santana. In this life, so few of us are fortunate enough to meet that one person we're destined to be with. You have. You can't let this go; I won't let you."

"We won't let you. Santana, take it from someone who lives with Brittany. You are her world. You mean so much more to her than you seem to think you do."

Santana let out a deep sigh and smiled slightly. "Thanks, Berry. That means…well, it means a lot."

I returned her smile and then was hit by a sudden thought. "You don't think that she—you know, with Cameron, I mean, do you still think—"

"I know she didn't cheat, Rachel. Brittany would never do that to me. I just thought that maybe I could give her a chance to move on—be with someone worthy of her love."

The three of us stood and dusted ourselves off, Santana flinching noticeably. "Alright. What now? I need to go see Brittany. I need to apologize, make things right."

Quinn nodded . "Yeah, you do, but we need to get you cleaned up first. There's no way you're going to let Brittany see you like this."

Santana paused and finally took in her appearance. "Shit. Those bikers, man. Sure know how to hit, and sure don't like it when you tell them you took a ride with their mom. All night long."

I gasped and began sputtering, unable to form a real word.

Santana openly laughed at that, and I was suddenly feeling like this girl before me was the one I had come to know so well.

"She's adorable, Quinn. So, have you asked her out yet?"

Quinn's face dropped immediately, all traces of humor far gone. "You know, maybe I would have, if not for some puny bitch who likes to pick fights with guys two hundred pounds heavier than she is!"

Santana smirked while I remained quiet. Was Quinn really going to ask me out? I cleared my throat loudly, getting their attention.

"Santana, I think that you should call Brittany and let her know that you're all right. She was very worried about you."

Santana's smile faded quickly, her eyes becoming downcast.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Can I use your phone, Berry? I kinda, uh, smashed mine."

I put my hands on my hips, ready to scold her, but I was suddenly reminded of the fact that this was indeed a difficult night for the usually stoic brunette.

"Of course. Here you are, Santana."

"Hey midge, what's the code?"

I blushed and rushed over to her, whispering into her ear. I could tell that Quinn was staring at me, but I looked the other way.

"Wait. Are you for reals? Oh man, that is too prefect. I can't wait to tell Britt."

I made a move to steal my phone back from her, but she held it above head. I crossed my arms and huffed, walking over to where Quinn was. She quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Wanna tell me what that was about?"

I pouted and turned away. "Not particularly, no. Another time, perhaps."

Quinn bumped her shoulder to mine and then turned to watch Santana, who was frantically pacing back and forth like a tiger trapped in a cage.

"No Britt, it's me, I'm using Berry's phone. Yes, I'm fine. Brittany Pierce, I am so sorry—no Britt, it wasn't your fault, I was being stupid—ugh, yes, I remember what you said about calling myself names, Britt just listen okay, I'm trying to apologize here, baby. Yes, I'm fine, no I didn't—okay, yes I did, but those bikers were totes asking for it, you gotta believe me! Oh, crap. Yeah, I did, but it slipped, and I'm fine, I swear, Q and Berry are gonna patch me up—no, babe, I'm fine! Listen, I want to say all of the important stuff when we're face to face, okay? I just wanted to let you know that I'm with Quinn and Rachel, and they're taking care of me. We'll see each other soon, I promise. Hmm. Sure, I'll tell them. I love you too, so much Britt, you have no idea."

She shut the phone and stepped towards us, handing it back to me.

"That sounded like it went well?"

Santana rolled her eyes and drew her fingers through her hair. "Well, she's mad about the fighting, and the wall, but other than that, she's okay. She wants to see me." I couldn't help but return the smile.

"Santana, of course she does. Did you really doubt that?"

Santana shrugged and rubbed her eyes. "It doesn't matter what I thought. Okay. Patch me up, docs, we gotsta get moving. We have a double date to plan!"

…..GLEE!