Author's Note: Before I start this story, there are a few things I should mention that are different from the show. Established relationships: Brittana did not get married, but are still friends. Britt moved to LA to dance on Mercedes' tour and is engaged to a fellow (male) dancer. Rachel is married to Jesse, Klaine are married, Artie and Tina are engaged, Quinn has a boyfriend of a year or so she met in NYC. All of the mentioned couples are living in NYC. There will probably be cameos by some other alumni later on.

Anyway, this is my first Quinntana fic. So please be gentle. I got this idea in my head and needed to get it out. Reviews are always welcome, and I hope that you all enjoy. Once again, I do not own these characters. Just borrowing them for my own selfish needs.

Chapter 1

Santana Lopez sat alone at the bar, watching as her fellow alumni from the William McKinley High School Glee Club socialized, drank, and laughed together. She was wearing her typical skintight red dress with black heels, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders.

"Why did I even bother coming to this thing?" she mumbled to herself as she finished yet another margarita. She was on her fifth, maybe sixth, and she'd been here for less than two hours.

The brunette craned her neck to take in her surroundings. The first familiar faces to catch her eye were her own former roommates, Kurt and Blaine. They were out on the dance floor, drinks in hand and having a good time. Considering how annoying they generally were, she also felt a sense of pride for the men. They overcame a lot, and were still together, married even.

The next face she spotted was one Rachel Berry, well, Rachel St. James now. She and Jesse had gotten married just a few months ago and are still in their "honeymoon phase." The duo are dancing next to Kurt and Blaine, and are still giddy from Rachel's Tony award win, randomly singing show tunes from her musical in the middle of a less than enthusiastic crowd.

Rachel was by far the most successful of the Glee Club alumni, with the obvious exception of Mercedes Jones, who is putting the finishing touches on her second album and gearing up for her first headlining tour, with Brittany as backup vocalist and dancer. The two of them are in LA, and lucky for them, Santana thought, unable to make it for the little "reunion."

Artie and Tina were sitting off to the side of the dance floor, talking to Sam and Puck. Artie is a small time producer, mostly independent films, that star Tina. Sam is still working as the New Directions coach at McKinley. Puck just got back from an overseas deployment, luckily in one piece. Santana had to give it to Puck, he turned into a great man, someone any straight girl would be proud to call her own.
There were a few other scattered faces, but none that meant much to her.

As Santana turned around to order her next drink, a familiar voice caught her attention.

"Santana Lopez, I ever pegged you for the type to drink alone." Santana turned to look into the hazel eyes of the blonde who the voice belonged to. Her best friend smirked at her. The blonde was wearing a long sleeved top (strange as it is so warm outside), which accentuated her curves, and a pair of tight black skinny jeans.

"Quinn Fabray, I never pegged you for the type to care if I did. Besides, I'm not alone. I have..." She turned to see the bartender's nametag, then back to Quinn, "Michelle here. See, not alone. Where's that jock strap beef stick of yours anyway?"

Santana didn't miss the slight falter in Quinn's expression when she mentioned her boyfriend, but the blonde quickly recovered and smiled her fakest smile. "He went to get us some drinks." She points to the other end of the bar, where the man in question was leaned over the bar, checking out the bartender Santana had mentioned, causing Quinn to frown.

"Damn, I guess I was drinking alone after all." the Latina joked to try to ease the tension she felt radiating from her best friend. "I was hoping to at least get her number."

Santana turned back to Quinn's boyfriend, Jared, and glared. She hadn't liked him since the day she met him. He's cocky, arrogant, and thinks he's better than everyone. That the world should bow down to him and give him whatever he wanted. The brunette rolls her eyes and turns back to Quinn.

"I know what you are thinking San. It's probably just harmless flirting to get a deal on the drinks. He does it all the time." Quinn told her nonchalantly.

"Really? And you put up with that? God, Q, his dick must be made of gold or something. I've never known you to be so...passive over something like that.

"First of all, I wouldn't really know what his dick is like. We haven't exactly had sex properly." the blonde informs her, leaving out a crucial detail, and emphasizing the word properly.

"Wait...really? No fucking way Fabray. You've been dating him like a year." Santana's jaw dropped as she spoke.

"Seriously...I just...it's complicated Santana. It's not that he hasn't tried..." She trails off as she notices Jared approaching.

Santana assumed that it wasn't a good idea to bring it up around him so she shut her mouth about the subject , acknowledging the grateful look from Quinn.

"Well, hello, Selena is it?" Jared asked in a voice that said he really didn't care as he handed Quinn her drink.

"It's Santana." The brunette said coldly. "Not that difficult. You've met me several times."

"Whatever. Let's go dance babe. I'm tired of sitting here. It's boring." he turned to Quinn who was looking apologetically at Santana, mouthing the words 'I'm sorry' before he basically dragged her with him.

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A couple of hours and a few more margaritas later, and Santana was good and well drunk. She stumbled her way through the dance floor toward the bathroom, only to stop short of her destination. In the corner she could see Quinn being pushed up against the wall by her asshole boyfriend.

"Come on baby," he said in what Santana guessed was his "persuading" tone of voice, though it sounded more aggressive to her. "You have to give it up. It's your duty to please your man. Suck my dick at least. You owe me that much."

Santana cocked her head to one side deciding whether or not to step in, deciding to see how Q reacts.

"Jared, no...I don't want to. And I'm not feeling too good." Quinn replied, weakly trying to push him away from her, but his hands were gripping so tightly around her arms that Santana could see Q's skin being pressed in even through her long sleeves, a pained look in her eyes. "I feel sleepy and you're hurting me."

"Oh, that." he smirks, "Well, I did put a little something in that last drink of yours to make you a little more...willing."

That was it, Santana had heard and saw enough. Drunk or not, she wasn't going to let this asshole get away with what he had just admitted.

She walked up behind him and yanked him back away from the frightened looking Quinn. She probably wouldn't have had the strength to if it weren't for the fact that she had the element of surprise on her side.

"Back the fuck away from her." Santana told him, giving him her best bitch face. "You fucking sick mother fucker. I can't believe you drugged her!" the brunette moved between Jared and Quinn.

"You need to mind your own business Selena. Get out of my way." Jared warned.

"Or what?! You'll drug me too? Or are you gonna make me?" Santana asked as she got up in his face.

Jared moved to grab Santana, who was barely registering a whimpering Quinn behind her. Santana grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"Try that again jock strap and I will ends you. Nobody messes with my girl. You will leave, and you will never contact Quinn again. Got it? Or I will go all Lima Heights on your dumb ass. Oh and it's SANTANA." Santana threatened through gritted teeth, before punching him in the jaw, getting the attention of one of the bouncers.

"Is there a problem here?" the bouncer asked as he approached the scene.

Before Jared could reply, Santana was already talking. "This guy just admitted to drugging my friend here. And he was trying to force her into doing sexual shit with him."

The bouncer grabbed Jared roughly by his arm and pulled him away, telling Santana that he would have it taken care of and make sure he was arrested. Santana turned around to see Quinn with tear stained cheeks, groggy and disoriented.

"San, I don't feel good." the blonde whimpered.

The Latina quickly rushed to her and helped to support her as best as she could, the altercation having sobered her tremendously. She looked around for any of the other Glee alumni, finally catching the attention of Puck and Sam. They immediately rushed to the girls, helping Santana with Quinn, and called an ambulance.

Santana insisted on riding to the emergency room with Quinn, giving the excuse that she knew her best and had all of the answers to the questions that would be asked. She waited with Quinn's head in her lap on a sofa in the bar's employee break room (at the manager's insistence), not to cause a scene.

The paramedics that showed up immediately hooked her to all sorts of machines and an IV drip. Her heart rate was slow. The methodical beeping of the machine was the only thing that Santana was relying on to know that her best friend was alive. She overheard the paramedics saying that she was given a very strong dose, and that had she not gotten help in time, it could have liked killed her. Stopped her heart compoletely.

"Dammit, Fabray." Santana mumbled to herself as she held tightly to the blonde's hand, tears streaming down her cheeks steadily. The paramedics had shifted around her clothing to do what they had to, uncovering some faint, and other not-so faint bruises over her sides and arms. "Don't you dare leave me. You're my best friend. I love you, you stubborn asshole. You should have left him long ago."

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After a long night in the emergency room, Santana was cleared to take Quinn home. She was instructed to keep a close watch on her for the next 48 hours, in case the drug had any lingering affects.

Quinn just nodded and thanked the doctors, but made no further attempts to talk. She was lost in her own thoughts. She couldn't believe she'd let it get this bad with Jared. She dealt with the grabbing, the shoving, even the occasional hitting. She had woken up countless times with him attempting to fuck her, or already halfway finished. She is almost positive now that she thinks about it, that this isn't the first time he's drugged her.

There were a couple of mornings where the blonde could remember waking up naked, and smelling of sex, when she knew she had gone to bed dressed and freshly showered. She never could remember what happened between those times though. She would also be covered in bruises, on her arms, her thighs from where he would force them open while he forced himself inside of her, and more than once she had to wear a turtleneck to cover bruising where he would grab her around her throat.

Quinn looked empty, and broken, yet somehow slightly relieved as she walked through the hospital halls, with Santana right by her side. She wouldn't tell anyone, but she's actually glad that Santana was the one here for her. She knew that Santana was just who she needed right now. The brunette would take care of her, do anything she needed. But she wouldn't treat her like a child who is helpless. She reached over and took San's hand in hers for comfort, and to silently thank her best friend for being here for her. Her action was met with a slight squeeze from the Latina.

Puck was already waiting outside for them in his car after receiving a text from Santana. A few of their friends had stopped by, but Quinn didn't want to see anyone, and pretended to be asleep when anyone other than Santana was in the room (which she actually tried but San called her out on it). She was embarrassed. She was Quinn fucking Fabray. She was the bitch that people wanted to be, looked up to even. Not some sniveling little girl.

The only other time she'd been here was after her car accident. Come to think of it, Santana was the one there when she woke up that time too. The brunette and her have their differences sure, but when it came down to it, there is no other person Quinn would rely on as much as Santana Lopez. She knew that Santana had seen the bruises, and she knew that Santana knew where they came from. All she could do now is hope that the brunette wouldn't confront her about them. At least not yet. She isn't ready for that yet.

The two women got into the back seat of Puck's car, and fastened their seat belts. Once again Quinn's hand found that of the Latina sitting next to her. The blonde had agreed to stay with Santana, not to go back to her own place alone, because Jared could be there. The brunette was more than willing, having an extra bedroom in her apartment.

"You won't be going back there. Hell no." were the exact words used.

"I don't want to." had been the only reply the battered woman would give, the reality that she was a victim of domestic abuse and rape, among other things, finally sinking in.

Quinn shook her head free of her thoughts as they approached Santana's apartment complex. The women thanked Puck for the ride, and headed upstairs. Few words were exchanged for a while, until they walked through the door, and locked it securely behind them.

"Welcome home, Q. You're safe here."