Chapter 8

Santana decided to not split up with Quinn as the blonde walked rapidly around the whole house, looking into every room. Quinn would open the door to a room, call out Brittany's name, then she would go inside. She was very fast, so by the time Santana caught up to the blonde who was growing more and more desperate, Quinn would've walked out the room and moved on to the next one.

Santana could imagine how Quinn was feeling. It was probably like the desperation that she had felt earlier today when she thought that she had been left alone in the clothes store. Although why Quinn would be so hell-bent on finding her dad's slave, she didn't know. So what if Brittany escaped? It was good for her, to be able to get out of the grips of her abusive master. Although Brittany's disappearance might lead to some other undesirable things to happen. Either Mr Fabray would just go and buy another slave to do the chores for him, or he might revoke Quinn's ownership to be Santana's master and Mr Fabray would become her master instead. The thought of that made Santana's blood run cold. She didn't know if Mr Fabray would be allowed to do that, though, as she is technically Quinn's property.

The thought of her being Quinn's property made her insides all warm and fuzzy. She didn't exactly know why.

So, what would be the worst-case scenario? Santana would become Mr Fabray's slave, then what? Upon second thought, it wouldn't be that bad. Going through what Brittany had to go through isn't nearly as bad as what she had to go through when she was owned by other masters. Although that does mean that she will get to see Quinn a lot less. And that made Santana's insides squirm.

But what would happen to Brittany, if she escaped into the outside world? How will she get anything to eat? How will she survive? She has no shelter, no food, no money. Or did she steal some money from home? But there wouldn't be that much cash lying around the estate. What if Brittany was caught and identified as a slave? She will either be dragged back to her rightful owner, and Santana had a feeling that Mr Fabray will do a bit more than the usual beating-up he does to Brittany, or she would be claimed as property by the person who found her. Santana had a feeling that Brittany would not like her new master, if the latter did happen.

Okay, they needed to find Brittany. Maybe that was why Quinn was so determined to find her. Maybe it was because she was concerned about Brittany's safety, or Santana's safety. Maybe even for her own safety. She didn't know if Mr Fabray would go as far as abusing his daughter for losing his slave, however. But it was best to not underestimate Mr Fabray. Santana knew better than that.

"She's not here," Quinn's shaky voice brought Santana back to the present. "Where can she be?"

"Okay, the first thing you need to do, is to relax, Quinn," Santana said calmly, soothingly. "Panicking won't help anything, okay?"

"I know," Quinn said, still darting her eyes from side to side. "But –"

"But nothing," Santana interrupted. "Take deep breaths. Breathe in," Santana took a deep inhale as an example for Quinn to follow. Quinn did. "And breathe out," she said, exhaling slowly. Quinn followed her lead. "Good. We will find her, okay? I have faith. Let's go look in the back garden."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Quinn said, considerably calmer now. "Thank you, Santana."

Santana's eyes met hazel ones again. "For what?" she asked.

"For calming me down," Quinn said. "I needed that. You're amazing, Santana."

"Well," Santana gave a shy smile. "Maybe. Let's go find Brittany, okay?"

"Yeah," Quinn smiled back, and together, they went out the back door and into the back garden.

It had been a while since they started to trail around the huge garden that was in the Fabray Estate. Accompanied by the fact that it was really dark as it was now late into the night, it was really difficult to find the young brunette. Neither of the two girls could see much except for the endless grass that nearly appeared black. Santana wasn't quite sure why they were walking around the garden doing nothing. If anything, they should call out. If Brittany was here, it meant that she didn't escape, and would surely come out of the shadows and reveal herself.

"Brittany!" Santana called, putting her hands around her mouth acting as a loudspeaker. "You there?"

Santana's voice echoed in the crisp night air vaguely. There was no answer.

"She's not here," Quinn's shoulders sagged. "She'd come out if she was."

"You don't know that," Santana said, not willing to lose faith. "I just have a gut feeling that she's here. Let's keep looking."

With that, Santana led the way forward, and walked towards the far end of the garden. Santana heard the rustling of grass behind her which indicated that Quinn was following her.

It did take Santana a short while, but eventually, she spotted a dark figure that was in the distance. It could've been a log or something, but Santana still decided to check it out.

"Look there," Santana pointed to the place that she was looking at. "There's something over there."

"If it was Brittany, wouldn't she have responded to our calls by now?" Quinn said dubiously.

"You know her, she's probably just in her own bubble and not paying attention," Santana said and walked towards where she just pointed at.

As she got closer and closer, it became more and more clear what that thing she saw was. It was a person.

"Brittany?" Santana called when she got within a couple of metres from the figure.

"Huh?" Brittany said groggily, pulling herself into a sitting position as Quinn and Santana closed the distance between them.

"Brittany!" Quinn cried, relief clear as day as she hurried to Brittany's side. "God, you scared me!"

"Scared?" Brittany said, rubbing her eyes.

"We thought you left," Santana said.

"Left? I'm not that stupid," Brittany chuckled slightly. "I was just looking at the stars and I guess I fell asleep."

"Oh, that makes sense," Quinn sighed. When Brittany looked at her, confused, Quinn elaborated, "You weren't responding to our calls."

"The stars, huh?" Santana smiled, bumping Brittany's shoulder slightly when she made her way to her feet.

"Yeah," Brittany's cerulean eyes met Santana's mocha ones. "It's beautiful. It gives me hope, I guess. It's so far away, and just…" Brittany closed her eyes and sighed happily. "I don't get to see it often. The grass was comfortable too. I guess I started to drift off after a while."

"Yeah, it's beautiful," Santana agreed. "It makes me feel like I can achieve anything."

"Mm-hmm," Brittany hummed. "Except it's just a dream. But hey, everyone can dream, right? It's a good distraction from reality."

"Guys, maybe we should head back," Quinn said, feeling the shift in the mood of this conversation. "It's getting cold and late."

"Yeah, why don't we do that," Brittany sighed, wrapping her arms around herself and walking back towards the house.

Santana and Quinn shared a look before following the young blonde.

It wasn't until late afternoon the next day that Mr Fabray finally got back to the Fabray Estate. The time before then, Quinn had graciously helped Santana and Brittany with their chores like she promised the day before, and plus, Brittany got to sleep in a proper bed that night. It was pretty funny how Brittany said that she didn't want to leave that bed ever again, that she just wanted to stay there forever. Eventually, after an hour or so of her just lying there idly, Quinn made her get up and eat some breakfast, which Quinn had decided to make herself to treat the other blonde and the brunette.

If Santana had to be honest, she preferred Brittany's food a lot more than Quinn's food, but then Brittany had been cooking every day for years whereas Quinn had probably never even touched a pan before. Although Quinn did make a decent attempt at a nice breakfast, she made some poached eggs as well as some kind of bacon dish accompanied by orange juice. Santana didn't eat that much at all because her stomach was still really full from the day before, so she gave most of her share to Brittany, who thanked her and ate all the food that was on the table.

When Quinn asked what Brittany did the day before, Brittany said that she found some DVDs on the shelves and watched a few films. Then she got bored and decided to go stargazing, and that was where she felt a little sleepy and dozed off, before Santana and Quinn found her.

Santana still had no idea what Mr Fabray did for a living, she imagined that it must be a respectable job as the Fabray Estate seemed to be overflowing with money. Well, this place wasn't the most extravagant of estates that Santana had been to in the past, but if Mr Fabray was able to cash out twenty-five grand like it was nothing, they were obviously rich.

Mr Fabray closed the front door with a huff and he looked exhausted. After setting his jacket on the peg, his head turned and caught sight of Santana who was peeking at the staircase. Santana immediately stiffened, but couldn't keep her eyes away from Mr Fabray's. His eyes shared some resemblance to Quinn's; Santana could see that Quinn got his eyes from him, but his eyes were completely cold, unlike the warm ones that Santana was used to seeing in her master's. Icy brown eyes locked into mocha green ones for several seconds that felt like forever: they seemed to be penetrating, searching. Eventually, eye contact was broken and Mr Fabray bent down to undo his laces and take off his shoes, and Santana took that opportunity to escape back upstairs and out of sight.

Quinn looked up when Santana opened the door and entered her room.

"He's back," Santana sighed, plopping herself on a chair on the desk.

"Okay," Quinn muttered, taking off the black shirt that said "FRIENDS" on it and folding it up. Santana felt her cheeks burn slightly at Quinn not caring to get undressed in front of the brunette, but she didn't say anything. Quinn opened the drawer and tucked the shirt inside, away from sight. Santana guessed that it was to prevent her dad from seeing them in those, either because it was evidence that they had gone out the night before, or because Quinn didn't want Mr Fabray to know that they were best friends. That, Santana could understand, because from what she gathered about Mr Fabray is that he did not approve of any other relationship between slave and master than slave and master.

With that in mind, Santana decided to take off the shirt that said "BEST" that she still had on from last night. When she regained her sight as the top went over her head completely, she caught Quinn staring at her. Her expression was blank, and she seemed to be in a bit of a trance.

Santana felt herself getting a bit self-conscious. "What?" she said, growing a little uncomfortable under Quinn's scrutiny.

Quinn jolted and her cheeks pinked. "Nothing," she stammered. "Um, maybe give me that shirt, uh, I can put it away."

Santana stared at Quinn, confused, for a short while, before she reached her hand out and handed the shirt over to the blonde's outstretched hand. Their fingers grazed for the briefest of moments, but Santana could swear that she felt a jolt of electricity travel through her system. She ignored it, however.

"Thanks," Quinn breathed, folding up the still warm shirt and putting it away from the drawer. There was silence for a short while, before Quinn decided to speak up again. "I really like those shirts, you know."

"You've told me that before," Santana replied. "And for the record, I really like them too."

"Yeah," Quinn smiled softly. "We have to put them on again sometime, when daddy's not home."

"Yeah, of course," Santana nodded. "It's really comfortable anyway. Better than all the things I've worn before anyway," she smiled, and it was nice for a while, just the two of them in their own little bubble, in the confines of the blonde's room.

The serene atmosphere was broken quite soon, however, as the two girls heard a shout and a clatter.

"Don't talk back to me, you idiot!" they heard a voice echo through the house, followed by a slam that was hard enough to make the walls shake and make Santana jump.

"What's going on?" Santana said, slightly fearfully, for there was pure silence in the house that lasted several eerie, long seconds.

"Daddy's getting mad again for no reason," Quinn gritted. "Pathetic son of a bitch."

"Hey, don't insult your grandma," Santana said the first thing that popped into her head. "She did nothing wrong."

Quinn looked at her with a funny look for a while, before she turned to leave the room. Santana shook her head and got up to follow the blonde that was now already outside the room.

Santana noticed how her footsteps echoed with each step she took down the stairs. It was some kind of clacky sound as her sandals made contact with the wooden steps, and it was soothing. She didn't really know why she was realising these sort of things now, maybe it was because she had no idea what happened downstairs when she was in Quinn's room. Either way, she found herself feeling nervous.

When they made it down to the ground floor, Quinn opened the door to the lounge and saw Brittany sitting in a chair at the table, looking despondent.

"Hey," Quinn whispered, walking over briskly and taking a seat next to her. Santana quickly caught up and took a seat as well. "What happened?"

Brittany looked up with a dull expression. "He happened," she said glumly, before casting her head back down.

Santana noticed how there was a red mark across the length of Brittany's left cheek, and she reached her hand forward, touching it with the tip of her fingertips. Brittany flinched away from her touch.

"Did he hit you again?" Quinn asked softly, and Brittany nodded. "Why?"

"I don't know," Brittany met Quinn's eyes again, lips slightly pouted. "But it's not like you don't know him. I didn't do anything."

"What I meant was, why did he get mad?" Quinn asked again.

"I don't know," Brittany mumbled again. "He saw me and decided to get mad for no reason. I just said that I did everything he told me to, and he said to not talk back to him and then he slapped me."

"It's okay, Brittany," Santana piped up. "It's only a slap, I'll get you some ice. Thank god it wasn't anything more."

"It's not that," Brittany said. "It doesn't even hurt that much anymore. It's just that…" she sighed heavily. "All my life I've been treated like I'm worthless, I have no value. After all this time, you start to believe it yourself, you know? Yet, it doesn't make it hurt any less."

"Don't believe anything he says," Quinn reprimanded. "He's just a jerk, a worthless imbecile. You are strong, Brittany. You are brave. Don't let anything he says pull you down, okay?"

"I know," Brittany sniffed. "I try but sometimes it gets a little hard, you know?"

"I get it," Quinn said softly. "Look, I'll go and talk with him. This can't go on any longer."

Santana opened her mouth to speak up but then the door opened, causing all three girls' heads to turn and look at where the noise came from.

"What are you doing?" Mr Fabray walked into the lounge, darting his eyes around, from one girl to another, and finally settling on his daughter.

"Speak of the devil," Quinn muttered under her breath before she spoke up. "What do you think?"

"Don't give me attitude, young lady," Mr Fabray warned. "Why are you helping her?"

"And why are you hitting her?" Quinn raised an eyebrow challengingly. "She's a human being! What gives you the right?"

"That girl's a slave!" Mr Fabray spat. "She belongs to me, I bought her! I have every right!"

"No you don't!" Quinn argued hotly. "Can you not see what you are doing to her? You're making her feel like she's worthless, like she has no purpose in life but to serve you! Is that what you want?"

"I'm just telling the truth," Mr Fabray said icily. "Don't give me that look, Quinn. You and I both know that this girl," he pointed to Brittany, "And that girl," he pointed to Santana, "Are not going to accomplish anything in life. Once a slave, always a slave! They're lucky that they even get to eat anything!"

"Eat?" Quinn cried incredulously. "Santana only gets to eat because I let her. You should probably do the same for Brittany. If it wasn't for me, Brittany would be starving!"

"Why do you even care?" Mr Fabray threw his hands up exasperatedly. "They are inferior! They should be on their knees thanking us for even letting them set foot in this house!"

"Because they are people, just like us," Quinn said, quieter. She seemed to be changing approach: instead of all fire and hot arguing, she was going for a calmer approach now, appealing to character. "The you I knew would never do this," Quinn said. "You would never do this to anyone. I know that you're still in there."

"Well," Mr Fabray cleared his throat. "That part of me died long ago, when these what you call people," he jabbed a finger at Brittany and Santana, "Killed my wife in cold blood. So I apologise if I don't cater to your tastes, but that is just the way it is."

"Fine," Quinn's demeanour shifted again. This time, she was defiant, proud, determined. "Then you are no more my father than any other stranger on the street." With that, she turned on her heels and stalked out the lounge.

Santana did not want to spend a second longer with a man that hated them, so she grabbed Brittany by her shoulders and led her out, following Quinn. As she turned the corner, she took one final look backwards and saw Mr Fabray looking down, looking deep in thought but Santana had no idea what he was thinking about.

"Thank you, Quinn," Brittany spoke up when they went into Quinn's room.

Quinn turned around, looking slightly dejected. "For what?" she said, voice lacking any of the power that she had a minute ago.

"Just… for standing up for me. No one has ever done that before."

"It's the least I can do," Quinn replied, turning back around and sitting on her bed and rubbing her eyes. "You don't deserve any of this. None of you do."

"Still," Brittany shrugged. "It's really nice of you to do that. Well," she sighed as she straightened her shirt. "I better get going. I have to go clean the bathroom."

"Wait," Santana put a hand on Brittany's shoulder to prevent her from leaving. "We literally just did that this morning."

"We cleaned a bathroom," Brittany replied, monotonous. "But not the other one down the hall. It's okay, Santana. I don't mind."

"You sure?" Santana was hesitant to let Brittany leave, especially after what happened with Mr Fabray earlier. "I can help you, if you want."

"It's okay," Brittany said, mustering up a brave smile. "You've helped enough today, thank you." With that, she removed Santana's hand from her shoulder and left the room.

That left Santana alone with Quinn again, and that was when the blonde let out a heavy sigh and flopped back on the bed.

"Do you think that I said the right thing?" Quinn asked into the stark air.

"I don't know," Santana said honestly, for she didn't want to say something that meant nothing, like an empty 'Yes, of course'. "What you said seemed to have got to him, though."

"How do you know?" Quinn's voice was slightly muffled, because a part of her mouth was covered by her pillow.

"I don't know for sure, but your dad seemed to be deep in thought after you left, almost like he's contemplating something. I might be overthinking it though, it was probably nothing."

"Well, if that's what you saw, that could well be a possibility," Quinn mumbled. "I sincerely hope that's the case. It's sad that those people not only took my mum away from me, but my dad too. Nothing had been the same ever since."

Santana felt a sense of déjà vu, and she decided that she would try and change the subject away from the still sensitive topic of her family. Nothing had clearly changed for a long time, and they all still had to heal. She wandered over to the blonde's desk and saw a piece of paper that was on the desk. She remembered how she had saw Quinn's handwriting for the first time when she first got here and was ensorcelled by the way the ink was pressed into the paper, representing words of meaning.

"Your handwriting is beautiful," Santana said softly, bringing Quinn's mind away from the thought of her dad. "I wish that I could write like you."

"It's really not that good," Quinn chuckled, sitting back up. "Some of it is just messy notes that I make when something pops up into my head."

"What is it about?" Santana enquired.

Quinn got up from her bed and walked over to where Santana was standing. "I have an idea," she said. "How about I teach you how to read? You said that you had wanted to be able to read for a long time, and since we have time, why don't I teach you? You'll be able to understand everything that's on paper."

"W-what… now?" Santana said.

"Yeah, why not?" Quinn smiled, shrugging. "Now's as good a time as any."

"Oh, wow," Santana breathed. "Um, okay," she chuckled nervously. "How do we begin?"

Quinn grabbed a chair that was on the side and sat down in front of the desk. She then patted the seat that was at the desk and Santana sat down too.

"Well," Quinn centred the piece of paper on the desk so that Santana was looking directly at it. "How much of the alphabet do you know?"

"Uh, not much," Santana said, feeling a little stupid. "My mum taught me a bit when I was younger, but I don't think that I can remember much."

"Well, I have an idea then," Quinn said, reaching up to fetch a piece of blank paper. "We might teach you how to write while we're at it. Here's a pen," she reached for the pen pot and gave Santana a black ballpoint pen. "Just write what you know. I won't judge, I promise."

"Okay…" Santana said hesitantly, taking the pen from Quinn's hand. Their fingers grazed, and Santana felt that jolt of electricity shoot up her spine again. Shakily, she held the pen and pressed down on the paper, drawing what she thought was a letter, if she remembered correctly.

Quinn watched her carefully. "Good," she said. "Now what is that?" she asked, gesturing to the letter that Santana had just drawn.

"Uh… I think that it was a 'b', I'm not sure."

"You're right," Quinn smiled. "Well, do you know anything else?"

Santana thought for a moment, but since she wasn't that sure and didn't want to get anything wrong, she shook her head.

"That's all right," Quinn said encouragingly, putting the earlier piece of paper in front of Santana again. "So, this letter," she said, pointing to the first letter of the first word on the page. "Is a 't'. 'T' as in… um…"

"Table?" Santana offered.

"Yeah, table," Quinn grinned. "And this letter is an 'h'. 'H' as in hot," she winked, and Santana felt her cheeks heat up. "And this is an 'e'. 'E' as in… um, eat, I guess."

"So, that is a 't', 'h', and that is an 'e'," Santana said, pointing to each respective letter in turn.

"Yep," Quinn said. "So what does that word say?"

"Uh…" Santana racked her brains. "Uh… 'tea'?"

Quinn laughed. "Um, not quite. Maybe that was not the best word to start with. That word is 'the'."

"'The'?" Santana said incredulously. "How is that pronounced 'the'?"

"It's irregular," Quinn chuckled. "Maybe we shouldn't have started with that word. Although, now you can recognise one of the most common words, so you are already a hundred times better than you were yesterday."

"Really?" Santana asked, flattered.

"Really," Quinn confirmed. "Well, should we keep going?"

Santana had kind of lost track of time as they went through the whole page, reading everything letter by letter, eventually word by word. All she remembered was how Quinn was really patient throughout the whole thing – Santana knew that she was a bit useless when it came to reading, so she was really glad that Quinn didn't give up or get frustrated or anything. It was all Santana needed at this moment, a sense of security, a feeling that she was not useless, a whore, worthless. Quinn had said that what she said to Brittany also applied to Santana too, and it just made Santana's heart warm.

It was now sometime into the evening, and Santana thought that she was starting to get to grips with what Quinn was teaching her.

"Okay, so now, as a little challenge," Quinn teased, putting the sheet of paper that they were working on away and getting a book this time from the shelf. She opened to the book and flipped to a random page. Her eyes flickered through the lines a little, before she settled on a sentence and put the book flat on the table, so that Santana could see. She pointed to the start of a sentence. "Try and read this, Santana."

"Oh, I'm not sure I can do –" Santana started.

"Nonsense," Quinn cut her off. "Come on, try. I have faith in you."

"Okay…" Santana said hesitantly and looked at what Quinn was pointing at. She tried her best to recognise the letters, and what they would sound like together. "W-W-What…" she started, looking to Quinn for confirmation, who simply nodded encouragingly. With that, Santana cast her eyes back down on the paper. "What I… want… m-most… right… at… this m-m… uh…" Santana said really slowly, looking for Quinn for help. Quinn simply pointed to each letter in turn to guide Santana, and the brunette concentrated really hard to get the word. "Moment… is… uh… water."

"Yes," there was a glint in Quinn's beautiful hazel-green eyes. "Now say that sentence all over again."

"What I want most, right at this moment, is water," Santana recited, much faster now that she had an idea of what the words were.

"Yay!" Quinn clapped enthusiastically. "See? I knew that you could do it!" she was literally overflowing with happiness, and before Santana knew it, Quinn had planted a kiss on her left cheek.

It was very brief, but it felt like a lifetime. It felt so good.

"Uh…" Quinn blushed. "Well, yeah. Well done, Santana. You're getting so good at this!"

"T-Thanks," Santana mumbled shyly.

"Well, we'll call it a day here, okay? You'll be just as good as me in no time!" Quinn enthused, closing the book and leaving to set it back on the shelf.

Santana nodded absently, cheek still fuzzy from where Quinn's lips had touched it just a moment ago. She felt so lucky to get to know someone just as amazing as Quinn.

"Thank you," she whispered to no one in particular. "Thank you for blessing me with kind fate."

I hope you enjoyed! I have just published a new fluff one-shot called Sting Before the Ring so if you checked that out, that would mean the world to me!