Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in updating, sometimes I lose my inspiration and it can be a bit of a struggle to get another chapter complete. Thanks again to all who have read, reviewed or put this story on alert. Please continue to let me know what you think, it helps keep the wheels turning in my head.
"Is that Rachel?" a shocked Sam asks, pointing to two figures up against a wall on the far side of the room. Quinn follows her boyfriend's gaze to see a bulky dark haired boy in a letterman jacket grinding into a petite brunette girl against the wall.
"No. It can't be!" she says incredulously. "They're practically dry humping in the middle of the party and Berry's a total prude." Quinn peers more intently at the two, trying to determine if the girl was in fact her Glee club captain. She had run into the annoying little hobbit earlier in the evening and knew she was here so it was possible, even it seemed totally unlikely that she'd be in such a position.
When the guy in the jacket leans down to suck on the girl's neck, Quinn is finally able to make out her face. "Wow, looks like someone finally took the stick out of her ass." She's not sure why she's so surprised by Rachel's behavior, the girl had always been a bit of an enigma to her, but public foreplay really didn't seem like Berry's MO.
"Guess she's over Finn, huh?" Sam chuckles besides her.
Quinn glances down at her cell phone, now safely back in her possession after 25 minutes of frantic searching, and tries to appear bored because she sure as hell couldn't appear interested in Rachel Berry's love life. "Guess so."
Quinn continues to watch as the faceless boy bends further to burry his head in Rachel's cleavage, all the while continuing to grind his pelvis into her. She can't help but notice that Rachel seems rather passive in the act. When her head starts to loll from side to side lazily and her eyes begin to fall closed, the boy puts a hand under each arm to steady her and continues. From what Quinn can tell by Rachel's posture, he's completely supporting her weight.
"She must be really wasted if she's making out with Palladino," Sam speaks up. "That dude's a total jerk."
"Chase Palladino?" Quinn questions. She can't see the guy's face but assumes Sam is better suited to recognize his teammate. She knows Palladino's reputation is sketchy and something inside her urges her to intervene. But she can't be caught helping a social misfit like Rachel Berry at a party filled with the school's social elite, so she drags Sam to a spot opposite the staircase with a decent view of Rachel and takes a seat, continuing to watch the scene out of the corner of her eye.
Another boy approaches the duo and taps Chase on the shoulder to whisper something in his ear. Quinn assumes Chase was probably just biding his time with Rachel and expects to see the two jocks walk off together and leave the drunken girl alone. Instead, Chase shoves Rachel towards his friend with a laugh and the newcomer fists Rachel's hair roughly as he pulls her against his body, planting a sloppy kiss on her mouth and a large hand on her breast. Chase watches with a grin as his friend devours a limp Rachel with his mouth.
When Rachel doesn't at all object to, or even seem to notice, the change in partners, Quinn knows she has to do something. She may not like the girl, but she can't watch this any longer.
"I'll be back," she briskly informs Sam and rises from her seat. The party is crowded and Quinn has difficulty pushing her way through the mass of drunk rowdy teenagers. There's still quite a bit of distance between the two Glee club members when three giggling Cheerios step into Quinn's path.
"Oh my God, Quinn!" one of the girls exclaims, her speech slurred and her grip on the drink in her hand unstable.
It takes all of Quinn's will not to roll her eyes at the underclassmen standing in her way, who were obviously playing up their tipsiness for the benefit of the crowd. She quickly realizes that as their captain she has to maintain a certain decorum and pushing them aside to get to the wildly unpopular Rachel Berry would simply not fly. Clenching her teeth to avoid accidentally voicing her aggravation, she hazards a quick glance towards the three figures by the staircase, hoping they won't move before she can manage to untangle herself from her loyal but annoying followers.
After several painfully long minutes the girls finish their pointless story about an incident at Cheerios practice that was apparently "sooo hysterical" and Quinn puts on her version of a show face.
"That is too funny!" she begins with a forced laugh. "I can't believe Chelsea did that. You're too much!" She beams with all the phony grace and giddiness she can muster. She touches a hand to one of the girl's arms with a polite smile. "If you'll excuse me, I was just looking for a bathroom in this place. It was nice catching up with you girls."
As she strolls away from the small group with her reputation in tact and her intentions still unknown, she finally rolls her eyes. God, she hated playing the part sometimes, even if she was ridiculously good at it.
However, her confidence falters when she realizes Rachel is gone, as are the two buffoons who were holding her up minutes earlier. "Shit," she mutters glancing around the room urgently. Her eyes weren't deceiving her, the tiny brunette was definitely nowhere to be found. Forgetting appearances for a moment she grabs a random party-goer passing by. "Did you see where Rachel Berry went?"
"Who?" the boy offers dumbly before an obviously annoyed girlfriend pulls him away.
She spots Mercedes laughing with her date by the television. "Mercedes!" Her voice is much more urgent than she intends and she cringes at the sound. She needs to dial it down a notch before people start to question her dire need to find Rachel. "Mercedes," she repeats much more nonchalantly when she closes the gap between them. "Have you seen Rachel around?"
Mercedes smile fades instantly. "I knew it!" she gasps with a shake of her head. "I knew there had to be a reason she was here! Look, I pretty much think Rachel is the Queen of annoying and there's days when I want to stuff her in a cardboard box and ship her to Mexico, but if whatever stunt you guys have planned for her tonight backfires and she quits Glee because of it, don't come crying to me when we lose Regionals."
"What are you talking about? I just need to find her. Right now." Need? Now? Quinn was hoping Mercedes didn't catch the desperation in her voice. Quinn Fabray didn't usually seek people out, people sought her out.
"I saw her hanging on a couple of the guys from the team a little while ago," Mercedes answers, completely unaware. "So I guess they drew the short straw when it came to keeping her busy so the rest of ya'll can set up whatever epic prank you have in store for her, huh?"
Quinn couldn't help the sadness that was creeping up on her. Here she was trying to help a teammate, and yet she was being accused of plotting something devious against the girl. On any other day she may have been outraged at such assumption, despite the fact that on any other day it probably would be true, but she couldn't blame Mercedes for thinking it. After all, of the two alternatives, it was more likely she'd partake in torturing Rachel than assisting her. She briefly wonders when she became that girl and why exactly Rachel bore the brunt of her anger. But there's no time to dwell on the guilt that's pulling at her insides.
"Did you see where they went?"
Mercedes shrugs and shakes her head, but her date offers some useful information. "Chase took her upstairs to lay down I think. She must have had a little too much to drink because he and James were practically carrying her."
Quinn doesn't waste time thanking the nameless boy for his help or explaining herself to Mercedes, she just turns on her heels and beelines for the steps. No giggling gaggle of cheerleaders were going to get in her way this time. Taking the steps two at a time, she's on the second floor in a flash.
A couple drunkenly stumbles past her and down the stairs, straightening their disheveled clothes in the process. After trying the first two doors to the left, which were locked, and one to the right, Quinn heads towards the back bedroom. Without knocking she wrenches the door open and finds Chase standing before her, his back to the door, his jeans at his ankles and his hands at the waistband of his boxers.
He spins around at the sound of the door flying open. "What the fuck?" he shouts, scrambling to pull his pants back on. She pushes past him, sending him tumbling backwards onto the floor, his legs tangled in denim.
James peels himself off a body on the bed and scurries backwards so that he's kneeling on the foot of the mattress, enabling Quinn to see Rachel laying motionless in front of him. Her dark hair is splayed out messily on the blue and white stripped comforter and her eyes are peacefully closed.
Quinn notices the two boys exchange panicked looks and before she can recognize the boiling anger building in her chest, she's forcefully ripping James off the bed. "Get away from her!"
James grasps the material of his khakis together at his waist, his belt unbuckled and dangling uselessly from its loops. "Chill, we were just having a little fun. Rachel's cool with it."
Blonde hair swishes as she whips her head around violently to stare down the boy. "Cool with it?" Quinn repeats venomously. "It doesn't even look like she's aware of it!"
Quinn allows herself to further take in Rachel's appearance before proceeding. She's still clothed, a simply fact Quinn is grateful for, but her dress is pushed up around her waist revealing a glimpse of pink and white panties. "Rachel?" Quinn starts softly as she takes a seat beside her on the bed and shakes her shoulder gently. "Rachel?" She continues her attempts to rouse her to no avail. "Berry, come on, look at me." After a couple more rounds of rigorous shaking, Rachel's eyes blink open and she begins to moan softly. "There you go." Quinn smiles sweetly at the disoriented girl and pulls the material of her dress down to cover her underwear.
"Hey, she was into this," Chase declares from the corner. "We've been hanging out all week."
"Yeah, she totally wanted it," James adds.
Deciding to give Rachel a moment to clear her head, Quinn launches herself off the bed and towards the boys, who have both managed to fasten their pants by this point. "Do you think I'm stupid?" she asks, her face dangerously close to Chase's. "Do you think I would believe for one second that Rachel would willingly give up her virginity to you two scumbags?" She crosses her arms over her chest and turns her attention to James, her eyes clouded with intensity. "Are you two so pathetic that the only way you can get a girl to sleep with you is to get her too drunk to stop you? Can't handle a girl when she's actually awake?"
"We didn't force her to drink," Chase says defensively. Quinn scoffs at his pitiful response. She had a feeling whatever the two boys had served Rachel to drink wasn't just a simple cocktail, but she had no means for determining her suspicion.
"That's right! And what are you, her mother?" James sneers. "Why don't you just turn around and walk your pretty little self back down those steps. Because this," he gestures towards Rachel, "doesn't concern you!"
She forgets the potential danger of the situation for a moment and shoves the twice-her-size football player against the wall. "You have another thing coming if you think this doesn't concern me! I know what you two are capable of and I'm not about to let that happen to Rachel. Now I suggest you get the hell out of here before I make sure you're physically unable to do this to anyone else." She drops her eyes to the boy's crotch to punctuate the threat.
Chase straightens his collar before slapping James on the shoulder. "Let's just go, man. No piece of ass is worth this headache."
"This is why I prefer girls who don't talk," James mutters as he grabs his cell phone from the nightstand and follows Chase towards the door.
"You mean can't talk?" Quinn responds bitterly. "And don't think this is the last you'll be hearing from me," she calls out as the two boys disappear from sight.
Quinn turns back to the bed and sighs when she sees Rachel's eyes have closed once again. She takes the girls hands in hers and pulls Rachel upright, her tiny body slumping forward. "Come on, Rach. Stay awake for me."
"But I'm soooo tired. Is it time to stop dancing?" Rachel whines in protest.
"There's no dancing, you have to get up," Quinn tells her.
Heavy eye lids blink once, twice, three times. "Ow, my head," Rachel mumbles lowly as she rubs a palm into her aching head and finally adjusts her eyes to the light in the room.
"Finally," Quinn mutters, trying to sound more annoyed than relieved. She watches as Rachel desperately tries to focus her gaze.
"Baaarbie?" Rachel drawls out lazily when she recognizes Quinn's presence. "What are you doing here? Where's Ken?"
Already Quinn is starting to regret her rare display of compassion towards the girl and her grasp on Rachel's hands tighten instinctively. "I swear to God, Manhands, if you don't shut it, I will..."
"Punch me in the face?" Rachel finishes. "You're always saying that. You should do it, I deserve it."
"God, I don't need to deal with this right now." She's starting to remember why she didn't do things like this more often.
"You and Sam make a cute couple," Rachel blurts out abruptly, her voice still dazed. "I bet you'd have really pretty blonde babies and you'd all sing and dance. Like the Von Trapps! I'm happy you two have each other. I have no one." She squeezes her eyes shut tight and squares her shoulders back. "Now, you can go ahead and punch me. I'm ready."
Quinn throws Rachel's hands from hers like they were on fire. "I'm not going to hit you, freak."
"I will!" Santana volunteers happily as she appears in the door frame. She had heard some commotion from a couple of doors over and decided to investigate because whatever was happening in here had to be more interesting than watching Finn sleep it off in the bedroom down the hall. For a guy his size, Finn Hudson was definitely a light weight when it came to alcohol. His head had hit the pillow before she even had a chance to kick off her shoes.
"Santana," Rachel frowns. "Go away. You're mean."
"And you're ugly and annoying." She crosses her arms over her surgically enhanced chest and leans against the wall. "What's going on in here, Q? Are you and Berry hooking up?" She smirks at her own comment but fails to get the reaction she wanted.
"Why are you so mean to me?" Rachel asks sadly. "You have everything. You're pretty, you're popular, your boobs are unnaturally large," she pauses for a moment to consider her last statement, "but you just had to take away the one thing in the world that made me happy. Why?"
Santana shrugs. "Quit your whining, Berry. No one's going to feel bad for you. I do what I do because I want to. End of story. Ok, Treasure Trail?"
Rachel stiffens at the insult. "Why do you call me that? I don't have one," she states pointedly, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Suddenly she's stumbling to her feet and fidgeting with the hem of her dress. "See, I'll show you." She starts furiously hiking up the material.
"Jesus Christ, what are you doing?" Santana shrieks. "Keep your damn clothes on, I believe you."
Rachel drops the bunched fabric in her hands. "I have to go," she declares suddenly. "They're waiting for me."
"Who would be stupid enough to wait around for you?" Santana questions wryly.
"Chase Palladino and James Holden."
"Oh, the fuck you're going to meet those two losers when you're this drunk," Santana informs her matter-of-factly. Sure she couldn't stand the girl but she wasn't about to toss her to the wolves.
"Why not?" Rachel asks genuinely puzzled at the girl's dislike of her companions for the night. "We were having a lovely time. But now I don't see them." She looks around hopelessly. "Were they here? Did they leave me, too? I have to go find them. " She starts forward but Quinn easily pushes her back on the bed.
"Do you not remember anything, Berry? They were here a second ago," she explains somewhat softly. There definitely had to be more than alcohol in those drinks if she's this clueless, Quinn thinks.
Rachel furrows her brow. "They were? Where'd they go? I need to find them."
"No you don't," Quinn states simply.
"Why not?" she demands. "They were very nice to me. They're the only ones at school who have been nice to me in weeks, in fact."
"Yeah, they were probably nice to you because they want to get into your pants, or in your case under your hideous skirt, and they have a gift for spotting easy prey," Santana interjects.
Rachel huffs and pushes herself off the bed, ignoring the slight wobble she exhibits at first. "Is it so hard to believe that someone might actually want to be my friend?" she shouts at her antagonizer.
Santana glances down at her manicure haphazardly and stays glued to her spot on the wall. "Yes actually, but that's not the point."
"I'm sick of you always putting me down, Santana! Back off!"
Quinn steps between the two girls and places a calming hand on Rachel's shoulder to steady the frazzled singer. "Rachel, you're not going anywhere. God, you really don't remember, do you?" She searches the girl's eyes for some sort of realization but doesn't find it. "They're known for doing this sort of thing."
Rachel just stares at the blonde, her dark eyes swimming with hurt and confusion. "Remember what? What sort of thing?"
Quinn sighs. She didn't exactly want to have this conversation in front of Santana, but her fellow cheerleader didn't appear poised to leave anytime soon and Rachel's determination to reunite with those two dirtbags needed to be squashed as soon as possible. "Getting some stupid insecure girl drunk at a party and then double teaming her when she's either unconscious or too belligerent to say no. And even if she says no, they don't exactly listen."
Rachel's eye widen considerably and she starts to shake her head furiously, pointing an accusing finger at the blonde. "You're lying, you just don't want me to have any friends! They wouldn't do that to me!"
"Those two animals are not your friends, Rachel! They were about to do it when I walked in here. That's why they left!"
"That's not true. They wouldn't do that. We were talking...and dancing...and they made this special drink for me that tasted kind of funny but it wasn't bad...and now I'm here." She looks around the room carefully, it finally dawning on her that she's in a bedroom and probably on the second floor of the house. "Wait. How did I get here?"
Santana perks up at this information and finally stirs from her spot on the wall. "Whoa, hold up! You mean little Miss Priss was stupid enough to drink the cool-aid? Your lucky Quinn got here in time, you were seconds away from being the inspiration for an episode of Law and Order, Berry."
Quinn just glares at Santana for a second before turning back to Rachel, who's pacing the carpet nervously. Why doesn't she remember coming up here? She places her hands on the sides of her head and tries to will her mind to focus. "I need to get out of here. You two are just trying to trick me. Chase and James can explain."
"Just calm down. You're drunk, or worse, you don't even know what you're talking about. And you most certainly won't be finding those two pigs to explain anything to you." Quinn takes a deep breath and runs a hand through her hair. Rachel needed an explanation and she'd have to be the one to give it to her.
"I just want to inquire as to why I'm here," Rachel answers indignantly, pausing in confusion before adding, "with you. Perhaps I had a little too much to drink because I can't seem to recall coming here, but I'm sure Chase and James will have a logical explanation."
"God, you're infuriating! Can't you just listen for once!" Quinn snaps, the sharpness of her voice causing Rachel to wince. "You want to know what you were doing up here?"
Rachel nods and sits on the edge of the bed, the throbbing in her head becoming too much to stand.
"I saw you downstairs making out with Chase and James. You seemed sort of out of it so I tried to get to you, but the three of you disappeared before I got the chance. When I walked in here, you were on the bed, basically unconscious, with one of them on top of you and the other getting ready to join. I know you're not exactly inclined to believe me, but how else would I know that you're wearing pink panties with white polka dots."
"Wh-what?" The realization seems to hit Rachel harshly and she glances around wildly before looking down at herself, as if her lap might offer some answers. "Did they... do...anything?"
"I don't think so," Quinn answers quietly. She wishes she had a more definitive answer, but truthfully she had no idea what happened before she burst through the door. "You were still dressed when I came in, but your dress was pushed up."
"Oh God." Suddenly she's feeling sick. "How can I be so stupid?"
"Beats me," Santana calls out dryly.
Quinn softens at Rachel's distressed expression. "Let me guess, Chase was getting you drinks all night? Encouraging you to drink?"
Rachel nods. "But they were nice to me all week."
"Because they were planning on nailing you," Santana clarifies rather bluntly. "Seriously Berry, some freshman even went to the cops last year, but of course they did dick about it. They're bad news, stay away from them."
"I was just trying to move on," she whispers hoarsely, not bothering to hide the fact that she's crying.
Santana rolls her eyes. "And entering date rape alley was going to help you move on how exactly?"
"I don't know," she sniffles. "Why doesn't anyone like me?"
"Oh God, Berry. Cut this shit out. You're no fun to torture when you're like this." If she were anyone else, she might have felt compelled to display a softer side of herself in attempts to comfort the distraught girl in front of her, but Santana Lopez only had one side when it came to public opinion, and no blubbering drunk girl was going to damage that image, even if she did feel a little bad for her at the moment.
"We should take her home before she gets any worse," Quinn reasons.
Rachel jumps off the bed with a frantic plea. "No! I can't go home. My dads will be so disappointed in me if they see me like this! Please! They're all I have."
The realization that she may have bitten off more than she can chew with this little endeavor dawns on Quinn, but she can't turn back now. "Ok. Just relax. We'll figure something out."