Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

A/N: Guys, thank you so much for the reviews and followers/favorites. I'm really glad you're enjoying the story far. Thank you for bearing with me.

Also, a very special thank you to my amazing beta naggingGargoyle. You're the best! (and guys, if you haven't read nagging's stories yet, just do it now, 'cause they're all awesome).

Warning for child abuse and homophobia in this chapter.

Chapter Thirteen

"Ay, Díos. Quinn's gotta stop scaring me like that," Santana said, massaging her chest and glancing at Rachel with wide eyes. "My heart can't take this much fright."

"Ditto," Rachel muttered, patting Santana's shoulder affectionately. "She and I are going to have a serious talk about injuries, that's for sure."

"Damn right," Santana growled. "And she'd better fucking listen to you."

"Language, Santana Lopez," Rachel chastised tiredly. "People are looking."

"What? Mind your own fucking business!" she spat at a small noisy group who was studying them critically. "Do we look like freaking aliens to you?"

Rachel reckoned they might look a little bit otherworldly in that pristine hospital. She and Quinn had made quite an entrance at the lobby with their expensive evening dresses. Then Santana rushed in with a 38 poking out of her pocket and sporting a nasty patch of blood on the hem of her pants (which, Rachel was sure, belonged to some unfortunate person who had crossed Santana's path). Then, oh, there were Kurt and Tina walking hurriedly down the corridor still clad in their red carpet looks.

"Oh, Rachel, I'm so glad you're okay," Kurt cried out, crushing her in a tight embrace. "Thank god Quinn was there with you. I can't stand the thought that I could have lost you tonight."

"I'm alright," Rachel said, rubbing his back soothingly. Then she dried Tina's tears and hugged her reassuringly.

"How's Quinn? Any news?" Tina asked.

"Not yet," Rachel said. She ran a hand over her hair and sighed. "She's been in the OR for nearly three hours now."

"She'll be okay," Santana said, ignoring the fact that her eyes were shining with anxiety. "She'd better be. Or I'll personally shoot her sorry ass."

Rachel laughed tearfully. "I won't let you."

Before Santana could tease her about being so whipped — but less so than Quinn —, the doctor approached them with a tired, but pleasant smile.

"The surgery was successful," he said, pausing briefly to allow their momentary celebration and sighs of relief. "We were able to remove the bullet with no further damage to her arm. She'll have to wear a sling for a couple of weeks and take it easy on some activities, though."

"She will," Rachel guaranteed him. "I'll make sure she gets plenty of rest."

"When will she be discharged from the hospital?" Santana asked.

"Tomorrow evening, right after we take a last look on her blood sample," he said.

"Can we see her?" Rachel pleaded.

"Miss Fabray is mostly asleep now, so I doubt she'll be coherent," he warned them. "But you can see her for a few minutes."

They silently followed the doctor towards Quinn's room, which was at the very end of the corridor on the fifth floor. Rachel entered first and the sight of Quinn, so small and frail on the hospital bed, tugged her heart.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," the doctor said, scribbling some prescriptions on Quinn's chart. "She shouldn't exert herself, so your visit must be quick."

Santana huffed, but Kurt and Tina sent her chastising glares and she sighed in defeat.

"Whatever you say, doc," she agreed grudgingly.

Rachel wasn't paying them much attention. She carefully sat on Quinn's bed and caressed her hair tenderly.

"Oh, baby," she whispered.

"Damn, Q, you look like shit," Santana pointed out. "That's unacceptable."

"Santana! Don't be so rude. Quinn is hurt," Rachel reprimanded.

"So?" Santana snorted. "She's gonna have you as a nurse. I bet she'll be standing up and shooting bastards in no time."

"Well, I must agree with her," Kurt snorted.

"Me too." Tina grinned.

"Oh, shut up, you," Rachel said, cheeks flaming.

Just then, Quinn groaned lowly and the group stood still, watching her anxiously.

"Honey?" Rachel said tentatively.

"Hate… bullets," Quinn muttered. Her eyes were still closed and she was frowning. "Hate hospitals too. And… soup."

"Is that so?" Rachel asked, biting her lip to refrain from laughing. Santana wasn't so successful.

"You ok in there, Q?" She snickered

"No," Quinn rasped out. "It's… dark. Turn the lights on."

"You just have to open your eyes, baby," Rachel said in amusement.

Quinn's forehead ceased in concentration. "What d'ya mean?"

Rachel giggled and kissed her eyelids. "Open your eyes," she repeated gently.

Quinn's eyelids fluttered and then opened slowly. She focused her gaze on Rachel and smiled groggily. "Hi," she murmured.

"Hey," Rachel said, smiling.

"You have a halo," Quinn pointed out sleepily.

"Is that so?" Rachel giggled.

"Mmm, yeah," Quinn confirmed, nodding. "Heavenly."

"Are you being charming or can we blame it on the morphine?" Santana teased.

"Shut up." Quinn frowned. Then she lazily pointed at Rachel with her good arm and smiled. "Really… nice halo."

"We should record this," Tina said, laughing.

"Totally," Kurt agreed, smirking.

"Hey, don't mock her," Rachel scolded them good naturally. She gently lowered Quinn's wandering hand and caressed her knuckle, taking extra care not to mess up the IV. "I'm sorry you got hurt, Quinn," she whispered, ghosting her lips over Quinn's.

"Mmm, worth it," Quinn chuckled.

"And she's totally whipped, ladies and gentleman." Santana laughed.

"Aww, hush, Santana, that's actually cute," Kurt said.

There was a knock at the door and the doctor came in and smiled at them. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but visit time is over. Miss Fabray needs to rest."

"May I stay the night with her, please?" Rachel asked. "I don't want to leave her alone."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Miss Berry," the doctor told her apologetically.

"Oh, you can bet your ass it is," Santana intervened, circling an arm around his shoulder. The man recoiled a bit at Santana's threatening expression.

"You see, doc, Miss Berry is Hiram Berry's daughter and Quinn is one of the best on his 'team', if you know what I mean." She chuckled coolly. "You wouldn't want to annoy him by denying such a simple request to his baby girl, would you?"

The man's face paled and he gulped audibly. "N-no. Certainly not."

"Didn't think so," Santana said, faking a sweet smile. "Now, just give Q her medication for the night and leave her alone with Rachel."

"O-of course."

He injected a small dose of morphine to Quinn's IV and left hurriedly. Rachel shook her head, smiling.

"You shouldn't have frightened the poor man, but… Thank you, Santana."

"Don't mention it," she said, waving her hands. "C'mon, you two, let's give them some peace."

Kurt and Tina nodded promptly and kissed Rachel and Quinn good-night, with promises that they'd be back the next day before Quinn got released. When they left, Rachel kissed Quinn's forehead and fixed her covers, smiling at how cute Quinn's incoherent talk was.

"Hate… Soup… Bullets too," Quinn repeated.

"I know, honey."

"But I love you." Quinn sighed. "A lot. D'ya know that?"

Rachel melted.

"I know," she said, beaming. "And I want to hear it again when you're sober."

~;~

Rachel woke up at 3 AM with Quinn tossing and turning in her sleep. She promptly got up from her chair and gently cradled her face as she shushed her. Quinn hissed when she accidently moved her injured arm and Rachel helped her put it back in the sling.

"Shh, it's alright, honey," Rachel whispered, kissing her cheek. "I'm here."

"Fuck, that hurts," Quinn rasped out.

"Language, Quinn Fabray," Rachel teased, tapping Quinn's lips.

"I hate… this morphine thing," Quinn slurred. "Brings back memories I want to forget."

"Like what, honey?" Rachel asked, running her fingers through Quinn's blonde locks.

"Mom and dad," Quinn said, fighting to stay awake. "The yells… and alcohol and stuff."

Quinn's tone was so poignant that it pulled each one of Rachel's heartstrings. She kissed her forehead and intertwined their fingers. "I'm sorry, Baby," she murmured.

"Not your fault," Quinn sighed. "I wish I could've helped my mom… but she didn't let me."

"Why?" Rachel asked.

"She said she loved him, even though he hurt her… and he didn't mind her addiction to liquor... and whiskey… and wine. He used to beat me too. Said I was a sinner. He almost beat me to death when he saw me kissing a girl. Santana's parents saved me. They took me to the hospital."

"I'm very grateful to them then," Rachel sniffled.

"Yeah," Quinn hummed. "They helped me to get emancipated. I was 17."

Rachel bit her lip and tried to hold back her tears, but then Quinn said, "You're my perfect thing, d'you know that? I know I can ruin you 'cause I'm messed up… but 's hard to stay away. I already love you too much."

"You're not messed up, Quinn Fabray," Rachel sniffled, kissing her lips. "You're a strong woman who captured my heart with your stubbornness, braveness and amazing heart. I'm not letting you go."

"Should," Quinn whispered, closing her eyes.

"Shush you," Rachel chastised. "I'm always right."

As she watched Quinn fall asleep again, Rachel made a promise to give this woman all the love she deserved. She was utterly and completely attached to Quinn Fabray and the thought of spending the rest of her life with her sounded wonderful.

~;~

"Damn, this hospital food is not good. How can you eat it, Q?"

Quinn arched an eyebrow and scoffed. Santana had devoured a grilled cheese, a cup of jelly and a chocolate pudding in less than twenty minutes. She barely had the chance to smell the meal before her friend vanished it all. She was thankful for Brittany's generosity. If it wasn't for the home made food she'd bought her, Quinn would be starving.

"Well, obviously, I can't, since you ate it all for me," Quinn grumbled.

"I did not!" Santana said, looking affronted. "You ate the turkey sandwich Brittany bought all by yourself."

"Yeah, but if she hadn't threatened to deny you kisses for a week, you would have eaten it too, wouldn't you?" Quinn rolled her eyes.

"I hate you," Santana huffed.

"Are you two always like this?" Rachel asked in amusement as Brittany bit her lip to refrain from laughing.

Quinn shrugged. "Santana started it."

"I didn't! You were the one whining like a five year old because you wanted to go home."

Before Quinn could protest, a blond man with shining blue eyes knocked on the door and looked at the group expectantly. Quinn smiled at him and told him to come in.

"Hi, Sam," she greeted him. "How are you?"

"I should be the one asking you this, Q," he said. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, much better," she said. She motioned at Rachel and Brittany and smiled when Sam's cheeks burned in embarrassment for briefly ignoring the two women. "Sam, I believe you've heard of Rachel Berry, right? And this is our friend Brittany."

"Nice to meet you," he said, shaking their hands. "I'm Sam Evans, but you can call me Scarface." He pointed at a small indentation under his right eye and smiled proudly at Rachel. "I got this during my first mission for your dad. A guy hit me with the butt of his gun, but I knocked him out soon after with an ice breaker."

"This is the nth time I've heard this story," Santana complained.

"Aw, shush, Santana, that's fine," Rachel assured him. He smiled brightly and puffed out his chest, making Quinn laugh and shake her head.

"Anyway," she said. "Did The Roadkill send you, Sam?"

"Erm, yeah, I have a message for you," Sam said, his eyes apologetic.

Quinn grimaced and nodded. "Well, go ahead. Shoot."

He rubbed the back of his head and shuffled from foot to foot until Santana pinched his arm.

"Q gotta rest in this century, Trouty. Give her the damn message already."

"Right." He nodded. "He said that you'd better drag your ass out of this bed soon and that you still have a good arm to shoot, so there's no excuse to be whiny."

"Papa can't be serious!" Rachel screeched.

"It's okay, Rach," Quinn murmured, not surprised at all with The Roadkill's recommendations. "Keep going, Sam."

"He also said you have an extra month to catch the stalker, considering your condition, and also," he added, smiling, "he told me to congratulate you for finishing those motherfuckers and that you did a nice job protecting his daughter. Oh, and he ordered me to escort you guys home."

Quinn groaned and Sam laughed. "Yeah, he predicted that you wouldn't be pleased but he said, and I quote, 'You have no other choice so suck it up, Fabray'."

Everybody laughed at Sam's perfect imitation of Hiram Berry's deep and raspy voice.

"How do you feel now that the roles have been reversed?" Rachel teased her girlfriend.

Quinn huffed and frowned.

"It sucks."

"I'll make it up to you when we get home," Rachel cooed not so lowly in Quinn's ear.

"Wanky," Santana said. Brittany slapped her arm playfully and Sam looked out the window with flaming cheeks.

"I'm counting on it," Quinn said, smirking.

~;~

Four days later, Quinn claimed to be feeling much better, but that didn't deter Rachel from taking care of her whenever she could. Rachel found out that Quinn's stubbornness was even more pronounced when she was convalescent. She had to remind Quinn to put on her sling several times during the day and she had to set the alarm clock to remind her girlfriend that she should take her meds.

Quinn hated taking them, because they made her feel slightly woozy, but Rachel made a power point presentation about the importance of the medicine, so she stopped protesting.

Quinn hadn't said it out loud, but Rachel knew that was enjoying being taken care of. More than once, she caught her smiling contently. Not to mentioned that Quinn loved trying out new ways to make out in their bed. Rachel enjoyed it too, very much so.

Rachel also liked to experiment in the kitchen (not sexually, even though they tried it once, which proved to be a delicious idea). She wasn't an expert at culinary endeavors, but she was good at making pancakes, toasts and coffee.

She was finishing their breakfast when she caught Quinn's indignant expression on the other side of the balcony. Her blonde was holding her iPad tightly, as if she wanted to break it in a million of pieces.

"What is it, baby?" Rachel asked, turning off the oven.

"Just a silly article," Quinn replied.

"Another one?" Rachel sighed. "They've been writing stupid things for almost a week. You'd think they'd find another celebrity to bother by now."

"Yeah," Quinn grumbled. "They should quit writing bulshit."

"Let me see it," Rachel requested.

Quinn sighed and gave it to her. Rachel sat beside her and frowned as soon as she read the title of the gossip news.

We had it coming all the way: Rachel Berry is involved in a love triangle!

Prepare your hearts and brace yourselves, my dear readers, because what we're about to tell you is pure adrenaline! As we have informed you on Monday, the Tony Award was so fantastically bombastic that we've decided to write a series of articles about the star of the night, Miss Rachel Berry (Read the previous news here). It seems like the diva has been involved in a bunch of unfortunate adventures (again!).

On Sunday night, right after she received her Tony and gave her speech, our favorite star was intercepted by the charming Jesse St. James and it seemed like they were having quite a heated conversation (see the picture bellow). They spoke in hushed tones, but an anonymous source confided in us that they were talking about a possible reconciliation. "It seems like Jesse is the person Rachel was talking so passionately about in her speech," the source guaranteed. "I've heard Jesse even bought her a ring and is just waiting for the right moment to pop out the big question."

St. James didn't comment on his encounter with Rachel Berry and left the Award rather hurriedly. Miss Berry followed soon after, accompanied by her bodyguard. They exchanged flirting glances that were meant to be discreet, but let us tell you, Miss Berry: you've been b-u-s-t-e-d!

Cassandra July believes that Berry's affair is just a silly revenge against St. James, who cheated on her a few months ago. "Rachel is just having some fun with the hottie bodyguard. She just wants to upset Jesse, that's for sure. And let me tell you, dear: it's working".

It seems like we have an interesting love triangle to witness! Who will Rachel choose? Let's hear your opinion!

Rachel took a quick look at the comments and huffed when she saw Jesse's arduous fans defending their 'flourishing romance'.

She also saw that her fans were having a heated argument with Jesse's stans. Her fateful followers told them she deserved better than a cheater rat.

Bless their souls.

"That's ridiculous!" Rachel sneered. "I'm going to have a serious talk with the editor of this stupid gossip site."

"They should have focused on your career," Quinn agreed. "I mean, you won a Tony, for God's sake! Why didn't they mention your brilliance?"

Rachel's heart raced and she kissed her girlfriend with ardor. "You just made up for it," she said. "Let's ignore them for the time being. I'm sure the respectable magazines will have something nice to say about me."

"Yeah, you're right," Quinn said. "But there's something in this article that called my attention…"

"What is it?"

"It says here that Jesse left in a hurry, just a few minutes before we drove off," Quinn pondered. "What if…"

"What if what?" Rachel asked.

"Well, what if the person behind your attacks is not a crazy fan?" Quinn reasoned. "What if it's someone very close to you who has been seeking revenge?"

"Do you really think Jesse could be behind it?" Rachel frowned.

"Well, it's a plausible theory," Quinn said, shrugging. "I mean, he's been trying to get back together with you for months, but you've been turning him down. Maybe he wants to pay you back, somehow."

"I don't know," Rachel said. "I never thought he could be capable of something like this."

"Either way, I'll keep an eye on him," Quinn decided. "And some of your cast mates as well. Their attitude is becoming suspicious enough."

At that exact moment, they heard the sound of broken glass coming from the living room. They ran towards it and Quinn picked a heavy stone from the carpet, wondering how the heck someone had managed to throw a stone into an apartment on the tenth floor. She made a mental note to check the nearest building's roof right after she checked the dammed note tied to the stone.

She opened the ripped paper and clenched her fists.

"What does it say?" Rachel asked anxiously.

Quinn sighed and read it out loud:

You won't get away next time. Be prepared for the worst.

A/N2: Most of you think that Jesse is behind the attack and Quinn also thinks so. In the next couple of chapters we'll narrow down the suspects. Is it really Jesse? Surprises are coming…

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