Summary: Quinn and Santana immediately after Finn outs Santana in 3x06, Mash Off. Requested by bobina.

Prompt: Purple

The last thing Quinn expects that Friday night her mom leaves for the Jesus Booze Cruise and Puck just holds her is to see Santana's little red Acura parked in her driveway. She hadn't known it was there, actually. Wouldn't have had any idea, had Puck not called her from the front of the house, after sneaking out her window.

"Uh, you'd better come out here."

He sounds uncharacteristically hesitant.

It's this, and nothing else that sends Quinn downstairs and out the door to find the car. To find Santana sitting behind the wheel. Something seems off, but Quinn can't put her finger on what it is.

"I tapped on the window…you know…to say hey…and she kinda freaked out." He pauses. "If you need me, I can stay," he offers, casting concerned looks inside the car, where Santana is white-knuckling her own steering wheel.

"Thanks. I got it," Quinn reassures, though she isn't actually sure she has anything at this point, and has no idea what's wrong with Santana.

Puck backs out of the driveway, and Quinn finds herself grateful for the oddest things. That Santana parked behind her, not Puck, so Quinn does not have to somehow, convince her to move her car.

When Puck is gone, Quinn walks to the front of the car, where she can be seen and calls Santana's name. "You wanna come inside?" she asks, like everything is normal.

In the car, Santana blinks and shakes her head a little, like she's coming out of a dream. She releases the steering wheel, and takes the keys from the ignition, but, Quinn notices, Santana holds them defensively - one protruding from between her fingers. She doesn't hit the lock button. She leaves the driver's side door ajar.

Quinn feels cold all over, and not just from the November chill. She watches Santana get out of the car stiffly, arms crossed, still in her Cheerios uniform. Quinn moves deliberately, with her hands up, to close and lock the car/

Wordlessly, Quinn leads the way inside the house. When they are in the living room, she turns, finally, and stares at Santana. There are fingerprint bruises around both upper arms. Her mouth looks swollen.

"Are you-?" Quinn starts, but that's all it takes for Santana to bolt for the bathroom. Quinn sits, shocked, listening to Santana retching. She feels completely unprepared to deal with whatever this is. But it's clear Santana has nowhere else to go.

Several minutes pass, and Santana emerges, pale and shaky. "Sorry," she says roughly.

Quinn waves off the apology and just waits. The clock ticks and she waits until Santana sits back down. She says nothing, just raises her eyebrows.

"Josh-something. Rugby captain." Santana mutters, shrugging. "So, Finn got what he wanted." She averts her eyes, ducking her head, and it's so unlike the girl she's known since the first day of freshman year that Quinn has to speak up.

"Tell me," she says, sitting forward.

"I stayed late after Cheerios practice, for official co captain debriefing crap. Coach Sue went with Jackson, and Britt had already left. I was almost off the field when they… I heard them talking. Laughing. Then, two of them had me up against the fence, and he…Josh…kissed me…"

They had done more than that. Quinn can see it in Santana's eyes, but she doesn't press. The bruises are clearly visible on Santana's arms, and, probably, other places. Quinn's chest aches and anger flares.

"Did they hurt you?" Quinn demands, her voice low and soft. She knows they hurt her physically, but she means something else. And she can see that Santana understands.

Santana shakes her head, but her eyes are dull and distant. "Just felt me up. They got in a couple hits when I tried to fight back. They said I deserved it."

"You don't. No one does," Quinn says, her voice sure, but shaking all the same.

"I didn't say no."

"Fighting back is saying no," Quinn reminds her. She knows this, but now that it's happened to her, all her knowledge about this have left her head. "Walking away is saying no. Struggling is saying no. Turning your head away is saying no. Did you blame Kurt when Karofsky was bullying him?"

"No, but Hummel's tiny compared to Karofsky. He's no match for a guy like him…"

"Right," Quinn nods, crossing her arms so she won't do what she wants to do more than anything, and reach out for Santana's hand. Beneath the dull agony in Santana's eyes, there is fear, and Quinn doesn't want to scare her. "Bullying is all about the imbalance of power." She doesn't say, "You couldn't have fought back, either." Clearly, Santana knows that already.

"This is what I was afraid of…" Santana chokes out. "This is why I didn't want anyone knowing… But Finn…" she says bitterly, gasping a little. Quinn can't tell if it's from pain or because she's losing it.

"Okay. Finn's not here. I am. Look at me, okay? What can I do?"

Tears are falling and that's so rare for Santana that Quinn has almost never seen them. Santana doesn't speak, just shakes her head.

"Can I sit next to you?" Quinn asks, and Santana nods quickly.

When Quinn fills the space beside her on the couch, Santana tenses, but Quinn doesn't move beyond that. She doesn't speak. And eventually, slowly, Santana leans toward her, resting her forehead on Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn swallows, blinking her own tears away. This isn't about her, but Santana's her best friend. She has to be strong, but she's losing the battle.

"This isn't your fault," Quinn tells her thickly. On her shoulder, Santana sniffs and a shudder goes through her. But she's calming down. "We'll look out for you. I promise. No one's going to do this again. Even if it means me coming back to the Cheerios to walk with you after practice so those morons can't get near you."

Santana chokes out a laugh.

"Do you need anything? Tylenol? Ice?" Quinn asks.

"Just a friend would be great," Santana manages, her voice thick, her head resting on Quinn's shoulder.

"You've got one. Always," Quinn promises, threading their fingers together.

The End.