If the Roles Were Reversed
Finn looked down at his cell phone. The words he was reading were attempting to soak into his thick skull, had been for the past fifteen minutes at least.
Puck: Dude Q was in an accident - she's at the hospital!
He couldn't really move. He was sitting in his bedroom. His Xbox controller was abandoned on the floor. Something just wasn't computing between his mind and his limbs.
After their breakup and subsequent confrontation, Finn and Quinn's interactions had been sparse at best. Rachel had kind of seen to that...
"Finn Hudson."
She hadn't screamed his name. In fact, her voice was a bit lower in pitch and volume than normal. When Finn turned around to face the tiny brunette, he did so slowly. He wasn't entirely sure what she was confronting him about... But he had an idea. Puck had heard from Santana that the three Cheerios had spent the night at Rachel's Friday night - just a few short hours after he had ... Well, after Quinn had broken up with him.
He tried to play it cool.
"Hey Rach," he said, plastering his goofy, lop-sided grin on his face as he turned to her.
"Oh, don't you 'hey Rach' me, you big bully," she replied while marching straight up to him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and pulling him down so that she could look directly forward into his eyes. "Now listen to me, Finn, and listen good." She pretty much hissed out his name from between her clenched teeth.
He simply nodded, eyes wide, to indicate that he was for sure listening.
"I don't know who you think you are. I don't know what right you think you have. But to treat a woman the way you did last Friday? Completely and utterly unacceptable, Finn. When I had heard what you did - when I saw the results with my own eyes, I was completely shocked. You hurt her, Finn. You hurt her. Are you proud of that? Can you accept that kind of behavior from yourself?" Rachel's voice had gradually shifted from simmering fury to simply mournful.
Finn's eyes were downcast now. Still hunched over, he had placed his hands on his knees. A single tear had fallen from his face, and he angrily wiped it away. "I'm such an idiot," he mumbled into his own chest.
Rachel released one of her hands from its hold on his shirt, and she pulled his chin up to enable her to look in his eyes again. "Yes, Finn. Yes, you are."
Finn thought back to that day. After she had severely broken him down, Rachel had pulled him into a brief - but comforting - hug. She had told him - in her sweetest voice, with her most endearing smile gracing her lips - that if he ever did something ridiculous like that again, Santana's retribution would be nothing in comparison to hers.
Then she walked away.
Finn had effectively been behaving himself like a puppy with his tail between his legs for the last few weeks. He hadn't directly apologized to Quinn since.
But he decided that he would remedy that. Right now.
As he approached the hospital - deluxe box of chocolates in tow - he began to get nervous.
Maybe this wasn't exactly the greatest place to apologize. Maybe he should wait until Monday at school to talk to Quinn. Maybe...
Maybe you should man up, dammit, he finally thought to himself.
He made it through the sliding glass doors and approached the nearest nurses' station.
"Hello, how can I help you?" a lovely young nurse asked him.
"Uhh I'm actually looking for Quinn Fabray's room?"
"Ahh yes. Miss Fabray was actually just released. She left with her parents about 30 minutes ago."
"Oh, ok," Finn said, sounding slightly rejected. "Thanks."
Walking back to his car, he found himself faced with a decision. He had missed Quinn at the hospital - maybe he just wasn't meant to apologize today.
On the other hand... He knew where Quinn lived. They had made out on her sofa several times. The Christ Crusaders met there once a month as well.
He could stop by really quickly, drop off the chocolates, apologize, and be on his way.
Or he could simply go home. He would see her Monday at school, after all.
Quinn cried out in pain as her body hit the floor.
Her father wasn't drunk anymore. He had obviously taken the time to sober up. This physical abuse was no longer fueled by drunken rage. It was just pure, unadulterated fury. As Quinn realized this, she simultaneously came to the conclusion that he genuinely wanted to be cognizant while he did this to her.
While he beat her.
He didn't say a word. He didn't really need to. She knew why he was doing this. She remembered her laptop - the words she had written, the words he had found. He would never accept that lifestyle. That 'choice.' He would never accept a daughter who chose to love the daughter of someone else. Another girl.
Disgusting, he had said.
Was that what Quinn was? When she was with Rachel - when she felt butterflies and became light-headed with happiness - was that wrong? Was Quinn disgusting? Was Rachel disgusting?
This last thought - of Rachel ever possessing the descriptor of 'disgusting' - shook Quinn out of the dark corner of her mind she had been forced into. Of course Rachel wasn't disgusting. There was nothing disgusting about her. She was perfect, she was beautiful, she had the voice of an angel. Rachel had kissed Quinn, and Quinn had never felt more perfect in all of her life.
Rachel was perfect. Quinn and Rachel together was perfection. Quinn was not wrong.
Her father was wrong.
Quinn no longer possessed the coherence of mind to try and run from her father. Her mother - who Quinn had deemed an absolute coward at this point - was hiding upstairs with a drink and music playing to cover up Quinn's screams of agony. The only thoughts that Quinn could hold onto any longer were thoughts of Rachel.
Rachel.
How Quinn wished she could be with her right now...
Curled into the fetal position, Quinn tried to ward off the blows that wouldn't stop falling. From every direction, it seemed. With increasing severity. A blow to her back caused her to unlock her knees from her stomach and roll partially onto her back. Russell promptly kicked her - with the might of a full-grown man - in the side.
Quinn screamed.
Finn had made up his mind. It was now or never. Quinn was probably pretty shaken up from her accident. And it would probably do her some good to see a somewhat-friendly face.
Right?
Well, he hoped so at least.
He parked on the curb near Quinn's house. He crunched through the snow in the Fabrays' front yard and then nearly slipped on the ice that still laced the walk that lead directly to the front door. He dropped the chocolates.
"Oh! Crap," he mumbled as he bent down to pick them up. He quickly brushed the snow and wetness off of the box with his sleeve before finally stepping up to the front door.
His finger reached out to prod at the doorbell.
But then he heard something that chilled him to the bone - a sound that he didn't question for a single second. It was Quinn. And she was screaming.
Without even hesitating, Finn roughly grabbed the door handle and pushed it open.
He was met with the sight of Russell Fabray bending down to pick up his daughter. Finn could plainly see that Quinn's lip was busted and bleeding - blood seeping down her face. Her body looked like nothing but a crumpled mess. Her face was masked in a grimace of pain. Her eyes didn't even turn to focus on Finn when he walked through the door. Finn wasn't sure if she even could.
But her father saw Finn. And Finn sure as hell saw what Russell Fabray was doing. Lots of people call Finn 'slow,' but his reaction to the sight of Mr. Fabray beating Quinn was instantaneous.
The box of chocolates was thrown to the floor as Finn surged forward. Quinn was roughly dropped back to the floor - where she attempted to push herself as close to the wall of the hallway as she could. It didn't matter much though - as soon as Finn got his hands on Russell Fabray, he threw him into the open study.
Russell landed on the worn, wooden table in the room. It smashed into a hundred pieces.
"What the hell do you think you're doing to her?" Finn roared.
At that point, Finn became a man of few words. Russell lay prone on the floor, lying in the shards of wood from the broken table, and Finn jumped on him - straddling the older, heavier man around the waist and beginning to wail on him. Blow after blow, he struck the man in the face.
It wasn't long before Russell was an unconscious, bloody mess. Finn pushed himself up off the ground, shaking his hands out at his sides - his knuckles were mostly busted at this point. He gave Quinn's father one last hard kick in the ass before turning back to the injured girl who was still in the hallway.
He hurried over to her, dropping down onto his knees and lightly touching her shoulder. "Quinn?" he asked quietly.
She was shaking violently. Her breathing was ragged. Finn had been in fights before, and he was nervous that Quinn may have a broken rib (or two...or three).
The situation was far from ideal.
Quinn had only whimpered in response to Finn. She could barely keep her eyes open.
Finn reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed 911, briefly explained the situation, and then began to look through his contact list for a specific number. He quickly found what he was looking for and hit the call button.
It rang once. Twice. Three times.
Please just answer my call, you crazy ho, Finn thought bitterly. Please!
During the fourth ring, someone answered.
"What do you want, Finnessa?"
"Santana!" he all but screamed into the phone. "Thank God you answered."
"Again I say - what do you want?"
"I'm at Quinn's," he started but was soon interrupted.
"What the hell do you think you're doing at Quinn's? I know that the dwarf warned you about that. You don't want to get on my bad side - but you sure as hell do not want to get on hers."
"Santana, please... Shut up. There's been an accident. It's Quinn -"
"I was with her earlier, I know."
"No, Santana! God! Just shut up! I came over to Quinn's house to bring her chocolate and to apologize for my stupid behavior from before. I heard her screaming -"
"You what?" Santana's voice had gone deathly quiet.
"Her dad, Santana. He was beating the crap out of her. She's hurt, really bad. I already called an ambulance, they're on their way. You should probably plan on meeting us at the hospital."
"What about her dad?"
"I took care of him. Trust me. I'll explain at the hospital. We just need to think about Quinn right now."
"Brit and I will get Rachel. We'll see you there."
"Ok. See you." Finn started to lower the phone from his ear, but Santana began to speak again.
"Oh, and Finn?"
"Yeah?" he asked hesitantly.
"Be safe." Santana ended the call. It wasn't much - but Finn knew that it was all Santana could give him without getting all emotional and touchy-feely. And Santana wasn't going to let herself get emotional with Finn.
Finn turned his attention back to the blonde mess next to him. He reached down and grabbed one of her tiny hands in his own enormous one. The sound of sirens was approaching in the distance.
"He won't hurt you again," Finn quietly murmured, leaning down close to Quinn's face. She gripped his hand loosely, lightly squeezing. "I promise, Quinn. I promise."
Finn didn't tell Quinn that 'it was going to be ok.' He simply didn't know whether that was true or not.
A/N: I really, legitimately dislike Finn. I just felt like redeeming his past actions a bit. Russell is a fantastical enough villain for the entire story, I think. Also - SHAMELESS PLUG INCOMING - check out my PezBerry fic I just posted. If that's your thing. ;-)