The next time Rachel saw Quinn was on Monday morning. The two hadn't been able to spend time together that weekend, since Quinn had been busy on Saturday and Rachel had spent Sunday on a trip with her fathers. She'd also opted to accept a ride to school from her Dad. Rachel didn't want to seem to clingy, but she had missed him, and the novelty of being around her soulmate was still exciting.

She spotted him at his locker, his pink hair standing out in the hallways, and she smiled as she saw the way it fell, unlike in the beginning of the year when it had stood up every which way. She reached out, touching his arm. "Hey."

Quinn's shoulders stiffened, almost flinching away before he saw her. "Oh. It's you. Hi."

Rachel's brow creased. "Are you okay?" she asked, cautiously pulling her hand away.

He took a breath. "Yeah. I'm okay. Sorry."

"Okay." She tilted her head, remembering the last time he'd reacted like this. It was slightly different this time though; he didn't seem quite as exhausted… but he did look off somehow. Her hand twitched, tempted to reach out and brush away some of the hair falling into his face, but she desisted. "Oh, you got the bandage off," she commented, gesturing at his left hand.

"Yeah." Quinn lifted the hand to show her the still-healing cut. "I got the stitches out yesterday."

"Oh?" Rachel picked up his hand to give it an inspection. "Does it still hurt?" He shook his head. "That's good." She let him go, giving him another searching look. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure." He cleared his throat. "So, uh, did you have a good time with your dads?"

Rachel hesitated before nodding, allowing the subject change. "Yes, thank you. They don't really like leaving me alone for long periods of time, and they like to make up for it when they do. Not to mention, last week was particularly trying. But it's okay now," she added when Quinn frowned guiltily. "You know, they want to meet you."

"Meet me?"

"Yes. I realize you've already met them, but that was only in passing. They'd like to meet you as… you know, my soulmate."

"Oh."

"There's no pressure, of course," Rachel told him. "But you're welcome at the house anytime, and maybe you could join us for dinner sometime."

"Hmm." Quinn was quiet for a moment. "You've got a competition coming up, right?"

"Yes, Sectionals is on Saturday, and we have yet to come up with a set list." Rachel shook her head. No matter how much she pushed, Mr. Schue never prepared more than one week ahead of competitions. They'd even gone to New York for Nationals with zero songs, and this year's Sectionals were no different. "About that, actually." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I thought maybe you'd like to attend the competition. It's being held here in McKinley, actually, so you don't have to go far. Obviously it's not compulsory that you attend, but I think you'd enjoy it, and –"

"I'll be there."

Rachel smiled widely, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "Thank you." She frowned when Kurt passed by with Jacob Ben Israel and his cameraman on his heels, asking for an advanced copy of his concession speech. "You know, I almost forgot the elections were going on."

Quinn just grunted out a response, obviously not caring. Rachel only cared about the election because of Kurt, but so far she'd been too focused on her drama with Quinn to pay attention to Kurt and his campaign. Besides, it wasn't as if he'd gone out of his way to look for her either. Her apology for attempting to run for president hadn't quite been accepted, and she didn't have the time or desire to chase after Kurt. She'd just talk to him after the elections.

"Hi guys," Brittany greeted, appearing from behind them.

"Good morning, Brittany," Rachel smiled at the blonde Cheerio. Quinn just nodded. "I heard you're leading the elections."

"Yeah, I'm totally gonna win this thing." She looked between them. "Are you two still a secret? Do you still have to hold hands under a napkin?"

Rachel glanced up at Quinn, who shrugged, obviously not inclined to answer. "Um… we're just figuring things out by ourselves first, I guess."

"I totally get that. San and I needed to do that too." Brittany suddenly looked worried. "That's kinda why Santana's in Principal Figgins' office with Finn and Mr. Schue."

Rachel frowned. "Is this about what happened after the mash-up last Friday?"

The blonde nodded. "She won't tell me everything," she said sadly, "but there's this campaign ad by that sauce guy who's running against Coach Sylvester for Congress. It came out yesterday and it told everyone that Santana's a Lebanese."

Rachel had no idea what ad Brittany was talking about, but if it had come out yesterday then she wouldn't have seen it. "Lebanese? Isn't she Hispanic?"

"Yeah, she's that too. But she doesn't care about people knowing that, she cares that people know she likes girls."

"I… oh." Rachel's eyes widened as it clicked. "Wait, what does this have to do with Finn?"

A spark of anger appeared in Brittany's eyes, and Rachel blinked. She'd never seen Brittany truly angry before, not even when people called her 'stupid' to her face. "Finn's the one who told. I don't know what he said exactly, but Santana says it's his fault everybody knows now."

Rachel inhaled sharply. "Finn outed her?" That was… she didn't have the words for what that was. Which was a moot point, actually, because Santana came storming down the hallway before she could say anything, heading towards her soulmate.

Brittany immediately linked her pinky with the Latina's. "San, are you okay? What happened in Principal Figgins' office?"

Santana scowled. "Later. Why are you talking to RuPaul?"

"San, don't be mean –"

"Brittany, it's okay." Rachel shook her head. "Santana, Brittany just told me what happened last week, and I'm very sorry. I can't quite relate to what you're feeling right now, but if you need anyone to talk to, my dads might be a good choice since they've been through something similar."

"Oh, don't even pretend to try to help me," Santana snapped. "Like this isn't your fault anyways."

"Excuse me?" Rachel gaped at her. "What do you mean this is my fault?"

"Oh please, we all know he's been drooling after your hairy ass all year; the only reason he outed me was because he was throwing a tantrum about not getting to skip down your freaking Treasure Trail If you'd just gone out with the Big Fucking Giant, maybe he wouldn't have decided to spout off my personal business in a public place!"

"Hey." Quinn spoke up, moving forward warningly. "Back off."

Flustered by Santana's attack, Rachel glanced at him, almost having forgotten that he and Brittany were present. Santana sneered. "This is none of your business, Prince Bubblegum."

"Cute," Quinn sneered back. "I mean it, Froot Loop, don't talk to her that way." The two of them glared hatefully at each other. Rachel bit her lip, inching away. She would be the first to admit that Santana was frightening, but Angry Quinn was every bit as intimidating.

"San, do you think Froot Loops are just gay Cheerios?"

Everyone turned to look at Brittany. The tension was immediately broken by the blonde's innocent question. "I mean, they're shaped like Cheerios, but they're rainbow colored," she added.

"Uh… I don't know, Britts," Santana said slowly, face utterly confused. "I never really thought about it that way."

"That reminds me, Mom said we're out of cereal at home, so maybe we could buy some on the way home later," Brittany continued, linking her pinky with Santana's. "Maybe we can buy pink milk too."

Rachel watched incredulously as Santana let Brittany drag her away, the blonde still talking about breakfast foods. Quinn though stared balefully at Santana as she left, before turning back to his locker. Rachel licked her lips. "Are you okay?"

"She shouldn't be allowed to talk to you that way."

Rachel's eyebrows rose at the statement, and after a moment a small smile lifted her lips. "Thank you. I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it though, and she's under a lot of stress right now. It can't be easy, having to deal with that, and I'm fine."

"That's not an excuse for her to treat you like crap."

No, it wasn't. And yet it had taken almost four years for someone to speak up in her defense. Unable to think of something to say in response to Quinn, she thought back to the last time she'd actually clapped back at Santana. "You know, the last time I talked back to her I said something not so nice."

"Oh?"

Rachel hummed vaguely. "Something along the lines that the only career she'd have was on a pole."

Quinn let out a sharp bark of a laugh. "Seriously?"

"Not my finest moment." It had been right around Valentine's Day after Finn had broken up with her, and he'd set up a kissing booth of all things. She hadn't exactly been in the best mood, and Santana had touched a nerve. "I overheard her crying to Brittany later." She shrugged guiltily. "I wasn't the only one who said something; she'd been laying into the whole glee club at the time and I guess we all got fed up. I think what I said was the worst though."

"Hmm."

"I'm not proud of it," Rachel said lowly. "I guess I can be impulsive sometimes. Most of the time I can keep it in, but sometimes it just bursts out, and, well." Her lack of a verbal filter was one of the reasons why she'd found it difficult to make friends early on. She'd say things that were unintentionally offensive, and by the time she realized what she'd done it was too late to take it back.

Quinn shrugged. "She probably deserved it."

A part of Rachel agreed. Santana could certainly dish out insults like they were going out of style. But, "She still doesn't deserve to be outed before they're ready."

..

Reggie 'The Sauce' Salazar's campaign ad was the talk of the school that day, and Rachel now knew just what she'd missed, having watched the ad on her phone during her morning break. The local pizza chain owner, running for a position in Congress against Sue Sylvester and Burt Hummel, had decided to try to discredit the Cheerios coach by pointing out that she had promoted Santana, a lesbian, as head cheerleader. The ad had been released yesterday. Needless to say, Rachel had been appalled, which was why when she happened upon Finn later that morning, she immediately accosted him, an eerie sort of calmness in her voice. "Finn, what did you do?"

The tall football player almost jumped in surprise. "Rachel, if this is about Santana, she's the one who slapped me, remember? I don't see why you're mad at me."

Rachel glared at him. "Finn, not even Santana would slap you out of the blue for no reason. I saw the ad and I talked to Brittany, but she doesn't know exactly what happened. I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt because I really don't want to believe that the boy I dated would stoop so low as to push someone out of the closet, so what. Did. You. Do."

"She was just riding me so hard last week, okay? She kept calling me all these names and stuff and I just got mad and I told her she should just come out of the closet already. She's just scared of liking Brittany and she's taking out on me!"

"And you said this in a public place?"

"Yeah, but it's not like it's that big of a deal –"

"How –" Rachel couldn't even find the words. "You live with your gay stepbrother. How could you even think that what you did wasn't a big deal?"

"Well, Kurt dealt with it just fine, why can't Santana?"

Rachel shook her head in disbelief. "Do you actually think that, or are you just trying to make yourself feel better? Because either way, what you did was wrong, Finn, and I can't believe you don't understand that. Kurt faced, still faces, bullying right here in this school because of who he is. He left the school for months last year because someone made a death threat against him."

"Oh, come on, it's not like that'll happen to Santana."

"That's not the point! This could have repercussions you can't even imagine! What about Santana's family, have you thought about that? Not everyone's parents are as accepting as Burt Hummel, and if Santana hasn't told her parents yet, you've effectively outed her to her family too!"

Finn sighed. "Okay, okay, fine. Maybe I was kinda out of line, but she was sort of asking for it. Look, I've got a plan, alright? I'm going to sing her something in glee later, and maybe we could do like a Lady Music Week –"

"You seriously think singing her a song is going to make all this go away?" She started to say more, only to shut her mouth. It was like talking to a wall sometimes. Disgusted, she turned to leave, only to be stopped by Finn's hand on her arm.

"Rachel, come on –"

Rachel whirled around, yanking her arm away. "Don't. Just don't. I can't believe this. What you did to Santana… what you almost did to me at the party… it's like I don't even know you anymore." She swallowed. "And I'm wondering if I ever did. Don't sing to her Finn, and unless it's an apology, I really think you should stay away from her. Stay away from me too."

..

That afternoon at glee, Rachel raised her hand as soon as Mr. Schue came in, ten minutes late as usual. "Mr. Schue?"

He sighed. "Yes, Rachel?"

"I think we should start by discussing the proverbial elephant in the room." She shot a glare at Finn. Santana sat at one side of the room, stony and silent, while Finn sat at the other, acting like nothing was wrong. It made Rachel sick. "I'm quite sure everybody in this room knows why Santana slapped Finn last Friday."

"The issue's already been resolved by Principal Figgins," Mr. Schue said, "so there's no need for us to discuss it."

Rachel folded her arms. "I think there is. I think when someone chooses to out another member, there should be some sort of repercussion."

"Yeah, Finn, not cool," Tina said, shooting a disgusted look at Finn. Mike just shook his head.

"It's not Finn's fault," Kurt argued. "It's that Salazar guy who put it up on TV, he's just flinging poo at Coach Sylvester and Santana got caught in the crossfire."

Puck tilted his head. "Wait, are we talking lady on lady, or girl on girl? 'Cause there's a difference." He received several nasty glares, and he shrugged.

Mercedes shot him a glare before turning to Finn. "I hate to agree with Rachel, but they're right, Finn, if you'd done this to Kurt I'd be all up in your grill by now."

"Okay, guys, enough!" Mr. Schue called. "Maybe it was wrong of Finn to say something like this in public. But it's out there, and what's important now is that Santana knows she's in a safe space. And who knows, maybe this is a good thing, Santana. Now you don't have to hide who you are."

Santana remained silent. Brittany tried to take her hand, only to be rebuffed, and Rachel glared at Mr. Schue. He had no right to decide whether this was a good thing; only Santana could do that. Finn meanwhile was content to stay quiet, which was probably the first smart thing he'd done all year.

"Now," Mr. Schue continued. "We're heading to Sectionals this Saturday, so we need to start brainstorming. So let's think of song choices. Finn and Rachel are going to be doing the duet, and I thought we'd have two group numbers and spread the solos around. We could –" He sighed again. "Rachel?"

Rachel lowered her raised hand, straightening in her seat. "Mr. Schue, if Finn isn't required to face some sort of consequences for what he did, then I refuse to sing with him. In fact, I refuse to participate at all."

The room fell so silent that she suspected she could have heard the cliched pin drop.

"Rachel, come on," Finn spoke up at last, frowning. "You can't just do that just 'cause you're mad at me."

She fixed him with a glare. "I'm not doing this because I'm mad at you. I'm doing this because I refuse to participate in an activity with a person who thinks outing someone is an appropriate thing to do. As a person with two gay fathers, I find what you did offensive, insensitive, and completely out of line, and I will not sing with you until you understand that what you did was wrong."

Mr. Schue cleared his throat. "All right, Rachel, I understand. If that's how you feel, then you don't have to participate. There are still twelve of us, and we have enough to compete if you want to sit this one out."

Rachel gaped at him. He'd completely missed the point. How could he be protecting Finn right now? Finn had been in the wrong, and Mr. Schue was just willing to let it slide. Unfortunately, he was right. Even if Rachel declined to participate, they had enough people to compete without her, making her threat ineffective.

"Actually, you don't."

Everyone turned to look at Blaine. "You don't have enough members to compete," he elaborated. "Because Rachel's right. And I won't participate either." Rachel shot him a small smile, thanking him for his support, and he winked at her.

"Yeah, you know what, count us out too," Santana finally spoke up. She fixed Finn with an evil glare. "Unless Flubbers McGee over here figures out just what he did wrong, I'm not singing with him, and neither is Brittany. You know, you haven't even apologized for doing it? How would you like it if I announced that you barely last two minutes in bed and then put it up on TV?"

Mr. Schue held up a hand. "Santana, that's a bit out of line. The TV ad isn't Finn's fault."

"No, you know what's out of line? You taking his side. Maybe he didn't put it on TV himself, but he's practically forcing me out of the flannel closet, and that's not okay."

"Look, Santana, I know it's hard," Kurt said. "It was hard for me too. But you can get through this, alright?"

Santana straightened, glaring at Kurt. "Oh, you wanna talk about how hard it is? Yeah, it must have been so hard when your dad disowned you, huh? Oh, wait, that didn't happen, he just hugged you and told you it was all going to be okay," she sneered. "Well, guess what? I told my grandmother last night, because she should hear it from me and not from the TV, and she told me that I was dead to her. So yeah, excuse me for not knowing how hard it was for you." She stood up. "You know what, I can't take anymore of this crap." She stormed out of the choir room, Brittany on her heels.

The rest of the group was left sober, some of them just now understanding how serious the situation was. Blaine raised his hand. "When one of the Warblers did something the group disagreed with, they'd need to spend some time off the team."

Finn rounded on him. "You know what, this isn't the Warblers, okay? You might have been the big shot there, but you're not here; in fact you're still just the new guy."

Rachel stood up. "He might not be the leader, but I'm co-captain. And I think Blaine's idea has merit." She turned to their adviser. "Mr. Schue, I think we should put it to a vote. I move that Finn be suspended from glee until Sectionals."

Finn was outraged. "Mr. Schue, you can't do that!"

"Now Rachel, hold on. Finn's co-captain too, we can't just kick him off."

"Mr. Schue, as egregiously offensive as Finn's actions towards Santana have been, that's not the only issue. Finn has been unfriendly to another member of the group as well, and all in all, his recent behavior is very unbecoming of a leader of the glee club."

Mr. Schue went silent. "All right. We'll put it to a vote."

"Mr. Schue –"

"Finn, that's enough," the teacher cut him off tiredly. "I don't want you off the team, but Santana has a point. It's never okay to out someone. And I'm sorry, Finn, but if we want to compete at Sectionals, you'll just have to take one for the team. It won't be permanent, the suspension will only be until after Sectionals, all right?"

"But –"

"All in favor of suspending Finn?"

Rachel raised her hand, along with Blaine, Tina, Mike, Sugar, Artie, and Mercedes. "I think we can count Santana's and Brittany's votes too," Rachel said.

Blaine shot Kurt a betrayed look, and Kurt shook his head. "I'm sorry, and maybe Finn was wrong, but he's still my brother."

Rachel nodded, disappointed in Kurt's decision. "Regardless, that's a majority."

Mr. Schue nodded reluctantly. "I'm sorry, Finn."

"That's so unfair!" Finn shot up, storming out of the choir room. A crash sounded as he kicked hard at a chair, slamming the door shut. Rachel shut her eyes, wondering once again what exactly she'd seen in him.

"All right everyone," Mr. Schue said. "Let's start thinking about Sectionals."

..

Two hours later, Rachel exited the choir room reasonably happy with the glee club's progress for Sectionals, and she was more than a little relieved at how the situation with Finn had been resolved. She made a stop at her locker, picking up her things, the paused when she saw black ink on her arm.

I'm in the parking lot.

Rachel smiled. Quinn was usually waiting for at her locker, but when she hadn't seen him she assumed he'd gone home. He'd seemed tired all day and she'd told him to head home if he wanted to. She opened her pencil case, pulling out a pen.

We just finished, I'm on my way out.

Grabbing her things, she shut her locker, only to be met with a person standing next to her. She dropped her books in surprise. "Oh my God!"

"Midget."

Rachel looked at the other girl warily. "Santana." Her eyes darted to the exit. "If you're still mad at me –"

The Latina let out a longsuffering sigh. "Calm your tits, I'm not mad anymore, okay?" She rolled her eyes. "Britts was right, I shouldn't have yelled at you this morning," she muttered.

Rachel stared at her. Had Santana Lopez just said she was wrong? Santana glared at her, and she decided not to say it aloud, instead opting to bend down and pick up her scattered things. She straightened up. "Okay. I understand you were under pressure earlier. Now, I should go –" She tried to skirt around Santana only to be stopped. "What is it now?"

Santana folded her arms, staring at her suspiciously. "Why did you get Finn suspended from glee? It's not like we're friends, so why would you do that for me?"

"I told you, I don't agree with the conduct and behavior he's been displaying recently, and as I said in glee, I find what Finn did offensive. No one should have something that private aired to a public audience without their consent, and as much as I dislike your treatment of me, that includes you."

"You don't do anything if it doesn't benefit you. So what's in it for you?"

Rachel flinched back at the accusation. So maybe she'd been selfish in the past, but they all had been at one point or another. She was simply trying to help. Suddenly she scoffed, anger flaring. "You know what, Santana, I don't have to take this from you. I understand you're hurting, but that does not give you an excuse to treat me like I'm inferior to you, because I'm not. If you don't want my help, then that's fine, but you need to stop insulting me. I'm done taking it from you."

The two girls were silent, both surprised at Rachel's outburst. Even Rachel. Santana glared at her, but she stood her ground, glaring back challengingly. In the end it was Santana who backed down.

"Didn't think you had that in you, Hob – Rachel," she corrected at Rachel's frown. Santana studied her. "Fine. Let's say I believe you. You're saying you're not pissed at him right now for anything besides what he did to me?"

Rachel's jaw clenched. "Just leave it alone, okay? My personal feelings regarding Finn are none of your concern." She turned to leave.

"I heard what you said to him this morning."

She frowned. "So?"

"Well, first I couldn't believe you finally stood up to him. Watching you two last year was like watching a lovesick puppy drooling after its idiot owner. Disgusting. Second, yeah, that Lady Music idea was crap. Like singing kumbaya around a campfire was gonna make it better."

"You're welcome. If that's all –"

"Third," Santana talked over her, "you said he almost did something to you at the party after the football game."

Rachel stilled. "Oh."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Look. I still think you're an annoying midget who really needs to get better taste in guys. But Britts likes you for some reason, and if Manboobs did something to you –"

Rachel's anger flared again. "This is none of your business, Santana!" She swallowed, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She didn't want to talk about this. Not with anyone, and especially not with Santana. "I would think you'd learned a lesson about keeping out of people's private affairs, so stop."

The cheerleader just stared at her, dark eyes narrowed. "Britts wanted me to go after you after you and Finnept went upstairs. She only does that if she thinks one of the other girls on the squad is in trouble, and she's never wrong."

Rachel took another deep breath. "I don't want to talk about this."

Santana nodded slowly. "Fine." She paused briefly. "I would've gone, okay? Even though you annoy me to hell and back, you don't deserve… that. If anyone tried that on Britts…" She scowled briefly. "Whatever. Brittany calmed down after Prince Bubblegum got there, so I guess he took care of it."

Rachel's jaw clenched. Brittany had told Rachel pretty much the same thing about what happened that night at the party, but Rachel didn't know how to feel about the fact that Santana of all people would have taken up for her. Not with their history.

The other girl heaved out a sigh. "This is the only time I'm gonna say this, and it's only because Brittany wants me to. Thanks for… whatever that was in glee."

"I…" Rachel tried to think of an appropriate response. "You're welcome, Santana."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She started to walk away. "This doesn't make us friends or anything like that, got it?"

Rachel smiled reluctantly. "Got it."

..

"So Finn's off the team?" Quinn asked, following Rachel into her house later that afternoon. After her conversation with Santana Rachel had found him in the parking lot, and he'd given her a ride home. The trip was mostly silent as Rachel thought over her talk with Santana. She managed to file it away by the time they reached her house, and she had invited him in.

"For the time being, yes." Rachel hung her coat on the hook next to the door. "Which is a relief, to be honest. Don't get me wrong, I'm still furious about what he did to Santana, but I'm kind of glad," she confessed. "This way I don't have to work with him."

"You shouldn't have to work with him."

"Well, regardless, I'm glad he was punished for what he did, and even if it wasn't actually for what he did at the party, it helps. I'm just surprised Mr. Schue went along with it." She was still a bit disappointed in their teacher for condoning Finn's actions. If she and the others hadn't forced the issue he would have been content to let the entire thing go.

Rachel shook her head, putting it out of her mind and leading Quinn to the living room. "Do you want to play a game again? It worked last time."

"Sure." Quinn pulled out a checkers set this time.

Rachel kept an eye on him as they set up the game. He'd been relatively quiet all day, barring that incident with Santana that morning, and while he was laconic even at the best of times, there still seemed to be something… off. Rachel couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was there nonetheless.

"You know, the more I hear about Finn, the more awesome he seems," Quinn drawled as he let Rachel make the first move. "What did you see in him anyways?"

Rachel bit her lip, setting down her piece on the board. She'd been wondering that for a while now. "I suppose I was attracted to his potential," she said eventually as Quinn made his move. "To be honest, I hadn't really noticed him much, but when joined the glee club when it started, I heard him sing. He wasn't magnificent by any means, but he had decent leading man potential, and I developed a crush. Besides, it wasn't like I was spoiled for choice in Lima, Ohio."

"Well, there was that other guy, right?" Quinn asked quietly. "Jesse St. James."

Rachel glanced up at him curiously. So this was that sort of conversation. She nodded, moving a piece forward. "Yes. He was my first boyfriend."

"I remember. You, uh, told me about him."

She nodded again, trying to remember the details. "Did I tell you he was lead singer for Vocal Adrenaline?"

Quinn looked up at her with a hint of surprise. "No."

Rachel captured one of Quinn's pieces. "Well, he was. He was practically perfect as a leading man. We met at the music store in the town center, and we sang a duet. His voice was amazing, and I guess I fell hard."

"Hmm." Quinn made a move, jumping over two of her pieces. "What happened?"

"Well, we dated for a while, but it turns out it was part of an elaborate plan by Vocal Adrenaline to spy on us and to mess with me." Her ego had been bruised for sure, and it was devastating to find out that her first relationship had been fake. "We broke up a month or so into the relationship."

Quinn was quiet for a moment. "Did he hurt you?"

Rachel smiled crookedly. "Well, breakups hurt in general, especially when it turns out that most of the relationship was based on a lie intended to mess with my head, so yes."

"No." He clenched his jaw. "When you… that night when you wrote to me that you broke up with him… I found a bunch of bruises on my arms. Did he…" He swallowed. "Did he hurt you?"

"Oh." She looked down, remembering. "It's not what you think."

"So those bruises weren't from him?"

Rachel kept her gaze down, absently worrying at one of the captured checkers. "After he broke up with me, Vocal Adrenaline came to McKinley and TP'ed the choir room. Finn and Noah retaliated by going to Carmel High and slashing their tires. The next day, Jesse called me after school, saying he wanted to talk. I thought maybe he wanted to get back together, or at least make amends." A soft, self-deprecating chuckle escaped her. "Kind of stupid. Anyways, when I exited the school, he was standing in the parking lot. When I started towards him, someone threw an egg at me."

Quinn stared at her. "An egg?"

She nodded. "Apparently it was a trap. A group of his teammates were lying in ambush, and as soon as I was out in the open they started pelting eggs at me. After they ran out of ammunition, Jesse smashed the last one on my head before they left."

"So the bruises…?"

"Some of the Vocal Adrenaline kids throw pretty hard."

"… You're a vegan."

"Yes. The experience was rather traumatic."

"Did you guys get them back?"

"Well, the boys were ready to retaliate, but Mr. Schue stopped them. Instead, we invited them over for our own performance to funk them out."

"That sounds kind of lame after what they did."

Rachel chuckled, able to laugh about it over a year after the fact. "Actually, it was pretty effective. Vocal Adrenaline is a group of soulless automatons; they don't have enough life to pull off a funk number. They were pretty demoralized by the time they left McKinley."

"If you say so." He picked up a piece, then paused. "Wait, I thought your mom was coach of Vocal Adrenaline."

"Yes, and before you ask, she didn't know about any of it. She reamed them out very well when she found out."

"Oh. Good." Quinn was quiet for a moment, jumping his checker over one of Rachel's pieces. "You know I'm probably going to break Jesse St. James' nose if I ever meet him, right?"

Rachel shut her eyes, laughing reluctantly. "That's strangely sweet, but I really don't like violence. You shouldn't do that, it's not like it will make anything better."

"But it'll make me feel better."

She huffed out another laugh. "Well, I don't anticipate you two meeting anytime in the near future, so I'm not going to worry too much about that." Her smile faded. "I wish you'd written me back that night," she said quietly, remembering. It had been one of the few times when she'd been so upset her anger had leached over to her unresponsive soulmate. "I could have used it."

Quinn went silent, shoulders tense. "… I'm sorry."

Rachel waited for a moment to see if he would explain, but he stayed quiet. She observed him for a moment before asking, "Have you had any romantic relationships before?"

He nodded. "Yes. I had one girlfriend. In sophomore year."

"Okay…" Rachel managed to suppress the mild jealousy that flared up in her stomach.

"She was the head cheerleader, and I was the football quarterback. It was a cliché made in heaven, and it was ridiculous.."

"Then why –"

"Because it was expected," he said evenly. "The All-American star quarterback should be paired with the outgoing girl-next-door head cheerleader. We went to the same school, went to the same church, our families were in the same social circles. Our parents approved too, a golden couple to brag about to all their friends."

Rachel listened carefully, hearing the note of bitterness in his voice near the end. "What happened?"

He picked up one of his pieces before answering, movements careful and deliberate as he captured a piece. "She cheated on me. With the football team's halfback."

"Oh." Rachel frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

His eyes were unfocused, a small crease appearing in his forehead that Rachel was tempted to reach out and smooth away. Instead, she stayed quiet. The last thing she wanted to do was upset him, and she'd accept it if he didn't want to talk about it. Still, she desperately wanted to learn anything and everything she could about her soulmate.

"You know the worst part about my parents?" he asked unexpectedly. "It was all so… fake. They acted like the perfect couple outside, but at home…" He shrugged. "She was the same. She just wanted the prestige that came from being one half of the school's power couple."

"She was using you," Rachel surmised. "Why didn't you end it?"

Quinn exhaled. "Because I was using her back just as much." He was quiet for a moment. "There were a lot of expectations when I was growing up. Eventually it just became easier to follow them. Everyone wanted the perfect straight-A star quarterback with the perfect head cheerleader girlfriend. So… that's what I was." He picked up one of the pieces on the board. "It's surprising what you can fake when you really have to."

Rachel sat there quietly, thinking over what he was saying. "You know you don't have to fake anything here, right? You can just be yourself."

"Myself…" He glanced down, looking strangely lost for a moment before he nodded. "Okay."

Rachel offered him a smile, reaching out to touch his hand briefly. "And if you want, I can attempt to break your ex's nose for you too, should we ever encounter each other. Don't count on too much success though."

That earned her a tiny smile. "Don't hurt yourself on my account."

They traded moves for a few minutes before Rachel spoke again. "Quinn… when you asked if Jesse hurt me… did your ex-girlfriend hurt you?"

Quinn didn't answer, tapping his fingers on the table. "She used me a lot more than I used her. But… that's a story for another time."

Rachel tilted her head, once again picking up that that something wasn't quite right. "Okay." A few more moves later, she cleared her throat. "Hey, um, I… wanted to say thank you. For today. For standing up for me against Santana," she elaborated, when he gave her a confused face.

"Oh."

"Yes. We talked again, after glee."

Quinn frowned. "Did she say something to you again?"

"No. Well, yes, but…" Rachel bit her lip, moving one of her pieces. "What you said this morning, about her not having an excuse to treat me the way she does… I realized that you're right. She doesn't have the right to treat me like that." She looked down at the board. "I know that. Or… I used to know that, but somewhere along the way, it's like I forgot. I used to defend myself against everything people used to say about me, but at some point… I guess I gave up. It wasn't really making much of a difference, in fact it seemed to make things worse when I reacted, so I just let them. I told myself it didn't matter, but it still hurt." She took a deep breath, shaking herself and meeting Quinn's eyes. "So when you said that this morning, it's like I remembered that I could stand up for myself, and… I just wanted to thank you for that."

"You don't have to thank me for that."

She shook her head again. "No, I do. I think part of why I stopped was because no one else stood up for me. Even when Finn and I were dating, he'd just laugh it off when someone called me a mean name, or when someone threw a slushy in my face. I just wanted to say that it meant a lot, what you said."

Quinn nodded. "Okay."

"I just want you to know, you help me a lot." Rachel absently picked up one of the captured checkers pieces. "You might not know it, but you do. And I would like you to know that if you ever need help, or if you just want to tell me something, I'm right here." She paused, meeting his eyes carefully. "So with that in mind, are you okay? You just… I can't help but feel like there's something wrong."

He dragged his eyes away, looking down at the board. He didn't say anything for a long time. Then… "I told you… when we talked… I'm not always okay. Some days are just… I don't know."

Rachel nodded, encouraged that he was starting to open up, even a little. "Is this one of those days?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yes… no. Yesterday was worse." His shoulders fell from their normally perfect posture. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"You don't have to be sorry." Rachel bit her lip. "Is there something I can do to help?"

His lips twitched in some form of a smile. "You… this is good. You're helping. I…" He tapped his fingers. "Thanks for not pushing. You know, this morning. When I was being weird."

"You weren't being weird." She wasn't entirely sure how she was helping, but she'd take it.

Quinn shrugged, still not meeting her gaze. "I'm trying…" He finally looked up, his hazel eyes suddenly tired and pained. "How could you tell something was wrong?"

"I don't know. I just… felt it." She was quiet for a while. "I meant what I said, you know. You don't have to pretend around me. If you're having a bad day, it's okay." She gave him a gentle smile. "Okay?"

Quinn's eyes slid shut, and he nodded. "… Okay." He opened his eyes, keeping them fixed on the board. "I know you have a lot of questions, and I feel like crap for not… I'll tell you soon, okay? I owe you that, I just…" He sighed. "I need more time."

"Quinn." He looked up, and Rachel met his gaze, smiling at him. "It's okay. Take all the time you need."

He swallowed, nodding again, and she looked at him worriedly as he focused on the checkers board. She wanted answers, to be sure, but she didn't expect him to tell her everything about his life so soon. And he'd told her a lot today, and she was concerned. She wanted to help him, but she needed him to let her. She shook her head, reminding herself to be patient. They'd only truly connected as soulmates for less than a week, after all. They had time.

"Rachel, this is serious. I've got half a mind to go up to Carmel right now –"

"Daddy, it's not going to help," Rachel sighed. "You know that."

Leroy instantly deflated at her words. He had been horrified when he came home to find Rachel in an old PE shirt that couldn't conceal the darkening round bruises on her arms, explaining that she had been assaulted by McKinley's rival glee club with a tray of eggs. What was worse was that the assault had been led by her ex-boyfriend, Jesse St. James.

But the worst part was knowing that Rachel was right. The Berry fathers had tried for years to prevent the bullying Rachel had experienced for almost her entire school career to no avail. Teachers just didn't have the resources or the energy to care, and they had even less to spare for the daughter of the only gay couple in town. Rachel couldn't even do anything about the bullying in her own school, much less in another. Standing up the bullies only made it worse, and she'd figured out that it was just less energy-consuming to grin and bear it.

"It's okay," Rachel smiled slightly. "Shelby called. She said she just found out about what happened and to rest assured that the perpetrators will be punished." The woman had sounded eerily calm, and Rachel instinctively knew that nothing good awaited Vocal Adrenaline when their coach got her hands on them. Her relationship with her mother may have imploded a couple of weeks ago, but it was nice to know Shelby had her back. "I actually kind of feel sorry for them."

Leroy chuckled reluctantly. "Well, maybe. Your mother could be a force to be reckoned with back when we knew her, and I guess she's the same now, even without the pregnancy hormones riling her up." He kissed Rachel on the forehead. "I guess we should just let her handle it." He rubbed her arm, sighing when Rachel winced. "I'll go get some ice for those, and we'll let your Dad take a look when he gets home."

"They're not that bad," Rachel tried.

"Sweetheart, you have egg-shaped and egg-sized bruises all over you, and it's too early for Easter."

Rachel rolled her eyes, following him to the kitchen and sitting down at the island counter. "You're not funny." She bit her lip. "Do you think I should tell Lucas what happened?"

"That's up to you." Leroy opened the freezer, pulling out an ice pack. "Did you tell him about Jesse?"

"I told him we were dating…"

"Well, it's your choice, obviously, but I'm sure he'll be wondering why he looks like a dalmatian all of a sudden."

"I guess." Rachel always worried about him whenever a new bruise appeared, and she liked to think that he was concerned about her too. Still, a petty part of her felt that he deserved to be kept in the dark for once, the way he did to her. She'd decide later. "Do you think he has his own relationship by now?"

Her father paused, looking at her carefully. "I don't know, sweetheart. It's possible." He offered her the ice pack, sitting down across from her. "Did you tell him about Jesse?"

"Yes." She accepted the ice pack from her father, pressing it to one of the worse bruises. She hadn't thought eggs could pack much of a punch, but apparently they did. Her eyes watered again as she thought about Jesse and about Lucas. "I thought he should know," she muttered. It was stupid, but a part of her had written to Lucas about Jesse in the hopes that it would upset him enough to answer back. It hadn't.

"Oh, Rachel," Leroy sighed, reaching out to brush away her tears. "It's going to be okay. You know what, you and I are going to go watch a movie and eat ice cream, and you can just forget about that Jesse kid for a while. Sound good?"

Rachel sniffed, smiling reluctantly. "Yeah." Leroy smiled, standing up to give her a hug before pulling her to her feet. "Want to hear about our plan to get back at Vocal Adrenaline?"

"Heck yeah."

..

The movie and ice cream made her feel a bit better, and her parents' doting made her forget about her troubles for a while. But they didn't completely go away, and that night she was back to being depressed, though she did find a little consolation in imagining Jesse St. James being eaten by a lion.

Before she went to sleep, she picked up the marker that she kept on her bedside table, and wrote a message.

Jesse and I broke up.

She looked at the words, stark and plain against her skin. She twirled the pen, biting her lip as she tried to find the words to explain. But she didn't have them. It hadn't been enough for Jesse to break her heart in private, he had to humiliate her publicly as well. And she didn't have it in her to explain to her soulmate just how stupid and naïve she'd been.

Instead she watched quietly as the words faded from her arm, willing Lucas to answer. She'd take anything right now. But she might as well have willed Barbra to appear in her room singing off-key for all the good it did. Any other day she might have written him more, tried to coax him into answering. But it was pathetic, practically begging for an answer from someone who didn't care, and she was already miserable enough.

In a fit of anger, she threw the marker across the room, eyes blurring with tears, and for an instant she hoped he was just as miserable as he was. The next instant she was filled with remorse. She took a deep breath, trying to push away her emotions. There wasn't any point, anyways. Reaching out blindly to her lamp, she shut the lights off.

Hi! Another quick update. It's been pointed out that I've written almost a million words between my stories, which was a surprise. Hard to believe. My thanks to everyone who's read and enjoyed my work, I couldn't have done it without you guys. I'll keep the note short for now, hopefully you liked the chapter. See you next time!