I don't own Glee or its original characters.

Chapter 7

The crowd at the "Do-you-remember-when-party" slowly but surely grew tired, espite the coffee. Kurt yawed openly without shame, throwing his arms above his head, stretching. "What time is it?" He asked into the round.

"One-thirty," Blaine answered after a look on his watch.

Quinn wiggled her shoulder slightly, rousing Rachel who seemingly had dozed off a couple of minutes ago.

"Hmmmm," came the mumbled reply.

The blonde nudged her girlfriend again. When Rachel opened her eyes, she quickly signed: Honey, let's go home, it's late.

"Mmhmm, ok," Rachel answered, not moving. After a moment she lifted her head and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry, it was a long week," she apologized for her lapse of etiquette.

"That or too much wine," Santana teased. "But I think we'll also call it a night. Thanks you two," she looked at Kurt and Blaine, "for the great food. You need help cleaning up?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, don't worry, we've got this. Besides, you already helped with the decoration." Turning to Quinn and Rachel he added, waving his hand at the pictures: "We'll pack these and bring them over to you."

Rachel smiled. "Oh thank you! I was wondering what you'd do with it."

"Well, we figured you might want to have them…" Blaine said.

"Yes, we definitely do!" Quinn agreed, her hands moving gracefully through the air, accompanying her words.

Slowly the friends got up and carried their glasses into the kitchen, despite Kurt and Blaine's protests.

"Come on Kurt, we have to pass the kitchen anyway on our way out. Might as well grab a couple of glasses," Santana reasoned.

Rachel took hers and Quinn's in one hand and led her girlfriend out. In the kitchen she deposited the glasses in the sink and turned to Kurt.

"You know, this was a really great party! Thank you so much for hosting it and for having us over!" She poked him slightly in the chest for emphasis.

Lauren trailed into the room after Max. Having picked up Rachel's signs, she added in the same fashion minus the chest poking: "Thanks also for inviting us. We really enjoyed it a lot! It's nice to be included in this circle of friends." She smiled at Rachel and Quinn. "If you need any further help with the organization of the wedding, let me know. I'll be happy to lend a hand."

Thank's, I think we'll take you up on the offer, Rachel signed, without voicing her words. There is still so much to do. She made a face.

Lauren had to laugh at the slightly desperate look on Rachel's face. I know. A friend of mine got married a couple of months ago, so I know. That's why I'm offering again. Use me, I'll be your wedding planner slave.

Rachel had to laugh out loud at that. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. That sounds kinky.

What does? Quinn asked, having turned back to the two women just in time to see Rachel's signs.

"Lauren offered to be our wedding slave," the brunette offered.

Wedding p-l-a-n-n-i-n-g slave, she explained, signing only. Purely from an organizational side.

"Oh, why didn't we get someone like that for our wedding?" Kurt complained.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Let's so not get into that discussion now. I need to go home. Alone. With my soon-to-be wife."

"That's technically not alone," Rachel pointed out logically.

Quinn pulled her close with her elbow around Rachel's neck and kissed her temple. Then she pronounced clearly "Shut up!" with a small laugh.

Rachel looked at Lauren and pointed at Quinn, signing: Slave driver. Beware.

Before Quinn could react to that, Rachel slipped out of the embrace and hugged first Max, then Lauren and the rest of the group, thanking them for the wonderful evening.

Soon everyone had said good-bye and with a sigh Blaine shut the heavy sliding door behind the last friend.

"That was really nice. It makes me happy to have such a great circle of friends." He caught Kurt around the waist.

"Yes, that's true. I never would have thought that one day we'd all sit here together celebrating Quinn and Rachel's engagement. Can you imagine? Would you have ever thought in high school that things would turn out like that?"

Blaine shook his head. "No. Not really. But that is what makes life so interesting, don't you think? I mean, I wouldn't have wanted for Rachel to become deaf, but still, considering the circumstances everything seemed to turn out well."

Kurt thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. I guess it did."

The next day Quinn received a call from her mom on Skype. Happily Quinn answered. Judy probably wanted to discuss some more organizational details for the wedding.

Quinn clicked on the little icon on her laptop that allowed her to accept the call.

"Hi mom!" she gave a little wave when her mother appeared on the screen.

"Hello Quinn! How are you?"

"I'm good, getting a little nervous, there seems so much to do and organize for the wedding still and I fear that time is running out."

"Oh honey, don't worry. I believe every bride experiences that kind of anxiousness before their big day."

"Times two?" Quinn asked, frowning.

Judy chuckled. "Well, there is that," she admitted. "But you still have three weeks. That is plenty of time and the big chunks are already taken care of. The rest will follow along. Don't worry! How is Rachel holding up?" she then asked sincerely.

Quinn shrugged. "Well, she is also nervous, but she's always trying to calm me down, explaining how well organized we are, what great friends and families we have to help us with everything etc.."

Judy waited for a moment, when Quinn didn't continue, she prompted: "I sense a 'but' coming."

"I don't know, I feel that there is something that's bothering her, but every time I ask her, she says I'm just imagining things and that everything is fine. But I know her mom. I know when something is not right and there is something she is not telling me." Quinn chewed on her lower lip. "Do you think she is getting cold feet?"

Judy had to laugh out loud at that. "Oh no, honey! That is the last thing I would expect from Rachel. Everyone can see how much in love she is with you. Don't worry, I really don't think she is backing out. Give her some time, I'm sure she will talk to you about it when she is ready. And maybe it is really nothing; maybe you project your own nervousness onto her, thinking something must be wrong."

Quinn thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, maybe I'm overreacting a little. Anyway, so you and Fran are coming two days earlier to help out with last minute preparations?"

"Yes, as promised. We'll arrive on Thursday with the first flight in the morning, so we have enough time before Saturday to get through everything. Relax, you'll be fine, everything will be fine. This is going to be such a lovely wedding, I'm sure of it!" Judy's eyes beamed with joy.

It had taken her a long time to find her own bearings again, to find her own beliefs after many years under her husband's oppression and his increasingly drastic and discriminating views. She had been shocked how far she had let herself be deterred from her own values and by that, from her own children.

It had taken Quinn quite some time to trust her mother again, to see that she truly cared about her daughter and that she accepted Rachel into the family without prejudice. Judy had learned the hard way that your own views were not necessarily always your children's views and in order to truly see them happy, you had to let them go their own way, fulfill their own dreams and not those of their parents.

The best thing about this was, about letting her daughter live her own life made her even happier than she could have ever imagined. Quinn had found a soulmate in Rachel and vice versa.

"Mom, I'm really happy that you and Franny are coming and helping out. I'm really, really happy that you became a part of my life again, that I can share so many things with you." Quinn blurted out in a moment of rare openness.

"Oh, honey, I wish I could turn back the time and make everything right, you know that." Judy reached out as if she wanted to touch Quinn's face and Quinn pressed her index finger against the screen. "I'm glad that you gave me a second chance."

"Yeah, me too," Quinn smiled. She was silent for a moment before she posed the question that had been burning on her mind for so long.

"Do you think dad knows anything about this?" She looked at her mom with mixed feelings. On the one hand, the little girl inside still wanted her dad to be there, to accept her the way she was, to see that she was happy and be happy for her and with her. But the adult in her knew that this chance had long passed.

Just to prove her point, her mom said:

"Yes, he does. I'm not sure where he learned it, but believe me, I didn't tell him, and neither did Francine." She was silent for a moment.

Quinn swallowed hard. "What do you think he'll do?" she asked almost in a whisper, as if he could hear her. She hated that this man still had so much power over her, that he still could dampen her happiness just be being talked about or being mentioned in a conversation. She despised herself for being so weak and let him get so easily through her walls.

Judy watched the array of emotions play across Quinn's features. She wished she could hug her girl and comfort and reassure her.

"Honey, don't let him get to you. Whatever he might want or plan, we will not let him ruin this. We are one family – and I count your friends into that - and we will stick together and make this the best day of your lives. I swear."

Quinn was quiet for a moment, grateful about the encouraging and supportive words. However, she also sensed something else behind those words.

"Mom, you're not telling me everything. What is it? Something is bothering you. What?"

Judy bit her tongue, debating whether to tell her daughter or not. But when it came to her husband, nothing was clear and she had learned that it was better to be open and honest instead of keeping things to herself.

"Quinn, I have the feeling that he might show up. And I'm not sure that he will do so quietly. I don't know why I keep thinking that. It's just…"

"What?!" Quinn almost shrieked. "You really think he's going to come and crash the wedding? How does he even know about it? He doesn't even know where it will take place!"

"I honestly don't know, honey. I'm not saying that he is going to come to the wedding, but I have the feeling we haven't seen the last of him."

"So how come you know that he knows?" Quinn was confused. "Did you talk to him?"

"No!" Judy answered vehemently. "I haven't spoken to him personally and I keep raking my brain to find out how he could have learned about the wedding. But I guess since we didn't make a big secret out of it, someone might have mentioned it to someone else. You know how things are in small towns."

Quinn knew. She knew their parents were proud and the news might have jumped from one conversation to another. And they didn't really think about putting a red tag on the news. Now Quinn was really afraid that the man she came to hate so much would again try and destroy her life. No. No! She'd never let that happen.

"So how come you know he knows?" Quinn repeated her former question.

Judy bit her lip. She hadn't wanted to tell Quinn, she really didn't want to worry her daughter, but since she already brought the topic up and she told her.

"He left me a message on the machine. Saying something about being really disappointed that I didn't want to inform him about his daughter's wedding to a … a…" Judy stopped. She didn't want to remember what her ex-husband had said about his own daughter and her wonderful fiancée.

Judy had come to love Rachel over the past year and a half. She had known Rachel from high school, but how the girl had changed and how she managed her life made Judy really admire her. And she loved her for making her daughter so happy.

"To a what, mom?" Quinn probed and ripped Judy out of her thoughts.

Her mother sighed. "It doesn't matter Quinn. Let me see to it that he doesn't show up. I'll try to calm him down. Try not to worry."

"Mom! This is my worry! This concerns me and our wedding. You shouldn't have any contact with him either anymore."

"Quinn, I didn't. We have only communicated though our lawyers since the divorce. I have never seen him or spoken to him. He is a spiteful man and in my opinion he needs serious therapy. He needs some anger management. His only mission is to try to destroy our happiness. If he can't have his family the way he wants it, then we do not deserve happiness. That is his motto, if you ask me. And I'll be damned if we fall into that trap, Quinn."

Quinn raked a hand through her hair. "I'll talk to my friends, inform them about this and ask them to help out should he really make an appearance." She heard her voice take on a desperate tone. "I cannot let him ruin the best day of my life or let him insult my fiancée, my friends or me. I will not let this happen!"

"And neither will I, Quinn!" Judy wished again at that moment than to take her daughter into her arms and comfort her. "I wasn't there for you during one of your hardest times; I will not let you down again this time. I will protect you from him, I swear Quinn, this man has done enough damage in our lives!" She slammed a fist on the table in front of her and Quinn jumped a bit at the sound.

She had rarely seen her mother this angry and this determined. It was wonderful to know that one of her parents stood behind her, trying to protect her from whatever evil might befall her. Quinn sensed some tears of gratitude sting her eyes and she hastily wiped a hand across them.

"Thanks mom." Then she added with a small and not very convinced sounding voice: "Let's just hope that we are overreacting. Maybe he doesn't plan anything. Maybe he doesn't care." But she heard her own insecurity and knew that neither herself nor her mother believed that.

Little did she know that Russell did have his own agenda indeed.

It was a couple of days later when Quinn found out what Russell's agenda really was.

The blonde stared at the raging man in front of her.

Part of her still tried to digest how this could have happened, how he could have entered her apartment and how she could have let him stand there, ranting and raging that she feared he would smash her furniture – or worse, even her.

Another part of her hoped that Rachel would not come home during his visit. Quinn was truly afraid that her appearance would fuel her father's anger even more. He was beyond being capable of taking in or grasping any rational thought.

She prayed that if anyone came home, it would be Santana first. Maybe she would bring Teresa. The more people were with her, the better. Together they would be able to make Russell leave.

For a moment she wasn't sure if she could handle him alone. She knew she had to be strong, that she shouldn't let all these hurtful and spiteful words let get to her. But there was still this little kid in her that was utterly shocked about the man who once had been her beloved dad, and of what he had become.

This small child still wanted the caring and loving man back that she remembered from her early childhood, when she had been his princess and when he had been so proud of her. She wanted him to be happy for her, be happy with her. She wanted to reason with him, make him understand, make him see that everything was fine the way it was. That they could still be part of each other's lives to a certain degree.

But a fraction of her knew that this man or this part of the man was dead, buried beneath mountains of anger and righteousness.

How could one man hate so much? How could that man be her father? How could he not look beyond his own beliefs and see what truly mattered? How could he not understand that his attitude made everything worse and increased the rupture between them more and more – if that was even possible?

Russell's face was dark red; spit flew from his mouth with every sentence he screamed.

Quinn had brought the dining table between herself and her father. At least that gave her a small safety barrier. She saw that the hands that gripped the back of the chair where he leaned on, where white, so tightly he held on. Quinn feared that the wood would splinter beneath his fingers, would snap like a little twig.

Her father did not seem to notice.

She saw that he barely had a grip on himself anymore. She was starting to get really afraid. Something had switched in Russell's head. He wasn't himself anymore. And he was becoming a danger to himself and to others. As long as he had gotten everything from his family that he expected, he had been the nicest and most charming man. But Quinn had seen him getting angry before. He had always been able to throw great tantrums if one of them disappointed him in whatever way. But never, never had it been this bad, she had never been afraid that he might physically attack her.

A background sound distracted her for a moment. She heard the key being inserted into the keyhole from outside and in slow motion the door seemed to open.

'Please let it be Santana, please let it be Santana', Quinn prayed. 'Please God, please leave Rachel out of the picture. Please let her not come home. I'm afraid he will hurt her or do worse.

It seemed that her prayers were not heard.

Rachel appeared in the door frame and immediately took a step back, taking the scene in. Even without having been able to hear the shouts, she felt the tension. It was thick as smoke and she saw the dread and fear on Quinn's face. For the first time in her life Rachel saw Quinn really being afraid. After a second she realized that she wasn't afraid for herself, but for Rachel. Quinn's eyes seemed to skip between her and Russell.

In his rage the man hadn't noticed that someone else had entered the apartment as his back was turned towards the door. Quinn locked eyes with Rachel and soundlessly formed the word leave with her lips, giving Rachel an imploring look. But the brunette shook her head. There was no way she would leave her girlfriend alone with this man who seemed on the verge of snapping.

She couldn't hear what he was screaming, but from the way his body shook, the way his veins stood out at the side of his neck, she figured that he was shouting at the top of his lungs. Slowly she pulled out her phone.

Quinn forced herself to draw her eyes back to Russell, to keep his attention away from Rachel as long as possible. Why wouldn't she leave? Didn't she understand the danger of this situation?

"Who told you about the wedding?" She demanded to know, relieved that her voice did not betray her inner turmoil. She needed to keep his attention on herself.

"It doesn't matter who told me! What matter is that none of my family bothered to tell me that my daughter was getting married. To a dyke no less! My own flesh and blood! How could you deteriorate so much, Quinn? What did that slut do to you that she turned you into one of them?"

Quinn was at a loss for words. How was she supposed to answer that? The more she would try to explain herself, the angrier he would get, if that was even possible. Besides, he didn't want an explanation. At least not the one that she would give him.

She forced herself to calm her racing heart and laced a steely calm around her voice.

"You better leave now. I do not want you or your accusations in my life. Leave my apartment. Now!" She pronounced every word clearly, hoping Rachel would at least get that part of the conversation, because she wasn't signing as had become her second nature by now. Whenever Rachel was around, Quinn's hands automatically formed the words in parallel. But this time she forced herself to keep them still. She didn't know if her dad knew about Rachel's deafness, but either way he wouldn't react positively about this fact either, she thought.

Hopefully Rachel would get out of the way should Russell decide to leave, Quinn prayed.

Something must have tipped him off, because he quickly turned and his eyes fell on Rachel who was about to move away from the door.

He turned all his anger against the petit women. After all, she was the reason that his Quinn had lost her way, she had bewitched her, he was sure. He started screaming again.

What he shouted - Rachel could only guess. Behind his back she watched Quinn grimace as she tried to interpret what he was accusing Rachel of. Russell couldn't see her hands move and by now, it didn't matter anymore. Quinn stepped around the table to put herself between the man and Rachel. With every word her signs grew slower until she refused to relay further what he was saying.

Rachel's eyes widened while Russell came closer and closer, almost looming over her petite frame. The brunette made a quick movement and slipped out of his reach. The big man turned as well and now stood with his back against the door.

Both women realized that he effectively covered their only way out. And both women realized that this wasn't a man you could reason with anymore. This man was dangerous and psychotic. There was no way they could handle this situation by themselves.

Rachel looked at her phone when a message flashed up while Quinn pulled her behind the table. Even though it was just a psychological barrier, it made the blonde feel a little safer.

Rachel looked up again and found Russell staring at her. Her eyes automatically drifted down towards his mouth, trying to decipher what he was saying. She understood that he was asking her something, but she couldn't make out exactly what. Unsure she looked at Quinn who slowly shook her head, indicating that she was not going to interpret and that they both should not react to anything he was saying.

Rachel's heart thumped in her chest. The air round them seemed to vibrate with the negative energy that wafted off the large man. How could this man hate his own daughter so much? Even though she didn't understand the words he was saying, Russell's body language and facial expression said enough. And Rachel noticed that she seemed to have underestimated the situation. This man was dangerous. Looking into his eyes, she only saw hatred and rage.

Just at that moment Russell lunged forward and reached for the brunette. Rachel quickly made a step back and collided with the counter behind her. Quinn's father took a step to the side to walk around the end of the table. He grabbed Rachel and shook her.

Rachel had the good common sense not to fight against the large man. She wouldn't have stood a chance and probably would have enraged him further. His big hands on her arms hurt and she already felt the bruises form. She felt her own breath coming out in short gasps.

In panic Quinn turned and looked for a suitable defense weapon. The nearest thing was the wooden block with the knives. She pulled the largest one out and sprinted around the table to get behind her father. The space between the table and the counter was too narrow for her to reach him with Rachel being held in front of his body. Thrusting her arm out and placing the tip of the knife dangerously near his kidneys, she stopped Russell's further advance.

Between clenched teeth, Quinn uttered: "Let her go. Now." In that moment she knew that she would use the knife if she had to. Her sole focus lay on keeping this man in front of her away from Rachel and herself. She knew that the only thing that counted was keeping Rachel safe. Nothing else.

Nothing else mattered anymore in that moment.

Quinn didn't register how the front door opened again and she didn't register the people rushing inside. Her father turned towards her, letting Rachel go with one hand. She only saw the tip of the knife now pointed at Russell's stomach. The blood rushed in her ears and she felt her heart pound in her chest. Time seemed to stand still for a moment.

When Russell realized that his daughter momentarily seemed to have an advantage over him, he loosened his grip on Rachel completely, who stepped back out of his reach immediately.

At that moment he seemed to realize what was happening around him. As if coming out of a stupor, something in his eyes changes. His mouth opened, but he didn't utter a word. He looked at the knife in Quinn's hand still trained against him and then back into his daughter's face. His whole body seemed to deflate in front of her.

Then, all of a sudden a voice reached the blonde's ears. Rachel's voice, Quinn realized belatedly. And she felt a hand on her arm, but that didn't belong to her girlfriend.

"Quinn, it's ok, put the knife down. We're safe."

"Ma'am, please give me the knife." Another voice said. The hand on her arm belonged to that voice.

Slowly Quinn came out of her haze. She blinked and took in the scene around her. A man in a uniform pressed firm hand on her arm. Cops, she realized belatedly. Slowly she gave in and lowered the knife, relinquishing the weapon in her hand. Someone placed the knife out of reach on the counter. Another cop put Russell in cuffs and dragged him towards the door.

Quinn was still too shocked to react. She stood there, not being able to move or say anything.

Santana, who had arrived with the policemen, rushed over to her friends.

She grabbed Quinn by her arms and shook her slightly. "Quinn, are you ok? Talk to me." Then she looked at Rachel. "Did he hurt you?" She pronounced the words very clearly, so Rachel could read her lips while she had her hands still on Quinn's arms.

Rachel shook her head. "No," she whispered, rubbing her arms and Santana already saw the marks that Russell's fingers left. Rachel pressed a hand against her forehead. "Oh god, he was so angry and aggressive, he really would have hurt us if Quinn hadn't reacted so fast and had pulled out the knife." She sagged on a chair and leaned her head in her hands.

While one policeman had moved Russell from the apartment, the other one stayed behind, taking in the scene. He looked at Quinn.

"Ma'am, can you tell me what happened?"

Quinn took a step and lowered herself onto a chair next to Rachel, nodding slowly.

"Yes," she breathed, but it took a moment before she could collect her thoughts. She rubbed her hands on her thighs.

Slowly she started to recount the event, using her hands as well so Rachel could follow and learn what had happened before she had entered the apartment. Quinn had been about to leave to get some food at the supermarket. When she opened the door, she had found Russell standing in front of her. A little spark of hope had risen in her. But once she had let him in, it soon became clear that he was not there to make peace or to congratulate her. Far from it.

He had started accusing her, pushing her, stabbing his finger at her chest that it left some marks as well. That was when Quinn had sought some refuge behind the table. When Russell had gotten louder and louder, his accusations becoming more absurd with every sentence he uttered, she realized that he was mentally sick. Maybe he had always been on the verge of being psychotic, but something must have made him freak out now.

The cop took a picture of the marks on her chest and of Rachel's arms. After making sure he had all the information and that the two women were cared for, he left.

Rachel looked at Santana, giving her a brave smile. She reached across the table. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I didn't know what else to do in that moment."

Quinn threw her a questioning look.

Santana explained. "Rachel sent me an emergency message, something about Russell and danger and that you needed help."

Quinn looked from Rachel to Santana and nodded numbly. She still fought to keep her emotions at bay.

"How could this happen?" She whispered, not asking anyone in particular.

Rachel got up and knelt in front of Quinn, taking her hands.

"Honey, we might never know what made your father –"

"Don't call him that! He's NOT my father anymore!" Quinn exclaimed.

Rachel had a good guess what Quinn said, even though she couldn't read all the words from her girlfriend's lips.

"We might never know what made him turn so violent, Quinn. But it wasn't your fault. Nothing you did gave him reason for threatening us."

Rachel knew that Quinn already started to rake her brain to find a reason to blame herself. Ever since she was a little girl, she had always tried to please him, to make him proud. If he wasn't satisfied, she tried harder. In her own eyes, it was always her fault if she disappointed him and not his ridiculously high expectations.

Only later she realized how unreachable some of Russell's values and expectations had really been. Still, this last incident triggered those early childhood conditionings again.

Santana busied herself quickly in the kitchen, brewing some coffee. Before that she had taken the liberty of calling Quinn's mom, quickly filling her in on what had happened. Judy was more than shocked, asking numerous times if the girls were ok. It took all of the Latina's convincing that Quinn's mom didn't jump on the next plane to come over.

Santana's argument was that Judy should contact her lawyers and discuss getting a restraining order. That was also what the policeman had advised. He wasn't sure how long Russell would stay in custody, but filing a complaint over what had happened and having the pictures as proof, might help.

Santana decided not to tell Quinn that bit of information yet. The blonde – and Rachel – were still too shaken up to deal with anything else.

The Latina placed a cup in front of Quinn and Rachel. "Here, drink this. It's my special recipe."

Quinn looked at the cup and pulled a face. "I can imagine what is in there."

"Drink it, it will help." Santana said simply.

Quinn lifted the cup and took a big gulp. "Whoa, what the hell have you put in there? Tequila?" To clarify for Rachel, she signed: Santana spiked the coffee.

. Santana took a seat opposite from Quinn, reading her old friend like an open book.

"Quinn, don't start with the cogs in your head. Rachel is right. Nothing you did was a reason for him to lose his marbles. I can't imagine how hard it must be to see your own father react like that, but Quinn, that man is not your dad anymore. Something happened that turned him into this lunatic that came here threatening you and Rachel over something that a normal person would be happy about!"

"I know. I know all that in my head! But here," she pointed at her chest, "I cannot understand it. It hurts. It hurts so much. Why can't he just be happy? Why is it so hard for him to accept me – and Rachel – as we are? What is so wrong about it?"

Santana had interpreted for Rachel. The brunette jumped in. "There is nothing wrong with us. Everything is all right. We," and she pointed at all three of them, "are perfect the way we are. Quinn, don't berate yourself. This will take time to sink in. No one expects you to digest what has happened within the next five minutes. Don't ever start to doubt yourself. Ok?"

Quinn nodded and chewed her lower lip. Rachel pulled her close and embraced her.

"Thank you for defending me. That was very brave of you," she said in a low voice.

Quinn started sobbing and again Santana interpreted. I couldn't let him hurt you! When he touched you, I only wanted to get you out of his reach, no matter what.

"I know, I know," Rachel tried to sooth her; she herself was still shaken up by what had happened, but she understood that for Quinn the whole ordeal was even harder to cope with.

Even Santana was more subdued than usual after the events of the day.

She knew about the psychological twist that had kept Quinn tied to her dad for so long, even after he had her evicted from her own home when she became pregnant. She also knew that it would take a long time for her friend to get over this, if ever.

Santana shook her head and sighed. And she thought her family was messed up.

Later in the evening the three girls tried to distract themselves by watching a movie on TV. But none of them really paid attention to the action on the screen.

At one point, Quinn sagged against Rachel and buried her head in her arms.

"Oh god, I threatened my father with a knife. I threatened my own dad. Oh god!" She started sobbing and couldn't hold the tears back.

Rachel threw a questioning look at Santana and rubbed Quinn's back with one hand. She felt that Quinn had said something. Santana quickly signed the words to her.

"Oh honey, I don't know what happened to him, but this man that stood there wasn't your daddy anymore. This wasn't the man you grew up with and who held you as a child. Something in him changed and as hard as it may be to understand, you did the right thing. This man would and could have hurt you. Could have hurt either one of us."

Rachel felt Quinn answer after a moment and again looked at the Latina who helped out.

Oh god, I was so afraid he'd hurt you, I was so scared that he would actually throw that chair at you or that he would break your arm when he held you in his grip.

The blond sat up and wiped her eyes. Her face took on a hard expression; she clenched her teeth and pressed her lips together. Then she added with emphasis signing and speaking: "I swear that if he ever touches you again, either one of you, I will kill him!"

Rachel looked at Quinn and saw the determination flash in the hazel eyes.

"Quinn, he probably won't get the chance to hurt us again. Even if there aren't any charges filed against him, his lawyer or a judge might propose some aggression therapy. Either way, I would hope that he takes that chance. And that you get a restraining order so that he is not allowed to come near you or any one of us either."

Quinn nodded glumly. She needed protection from her own dad. How on earth did that ever happen?

She needed to tell her mom about it and Francine. They needed to be warned. Since he hadn't broken into her apartment and since he hadn't seriously hurt anyone – yet, he was likely to be a free man again the next day.

Santana told her that she had already spoken to Judy and that her mother was in contact with her lawyers. That calmed Quinn a bit.

"Do you want to call your mom again?" Rachel asked gently, but Quinn shook her head.

She felt drained and dead tired. Knowing that everything had been taken care of so far, let her calm down a bit.

"No, I'm too tired. I will send her a quick message that we are ok, but that we'll talk in the morning."

Rachel nodded. She also felt like she had lead in her legs.

The three of them hugged shortly and called it a night.

They didn't hear anything from Russell over the following days. Judy's lawyers had finally managed to get a preliminary restraining order approved by a judge. They took into account several incidences over past years to press on the seriousness of Quinn's and Rachel's protection. At least that gave the girls some peace of mind. Not that it made digesting the event any easier. But Quinn slowly started to push this to the back of her mind and focus again on the more important things in life, like her upcoming wedding.

A couple of days later, when Quinn asked Rachel something about the wedding and her girlfriend just nodded absentmindedly. The blonde got up from the couch and touched Rachel on the shoulder to get her attention.

Rachel, can we talk?

The brunette looked up. "Yeah, sure."

Are you… Quinn lowered her hands for a moment before she continued. Are you getting doubts about the wedding?

"No! Why would you think that?" Rachel saw the genuine concern in Quinn's eyes.

Quinn shrugged. I don't know. You seem preoccupied with something. Is this still about Russell and what he said?

Rachel shook her head. "No. I'm just a bit preoccupied with all the organizational details. We still need to find three hotel rooms for some relatives and …"

That's not what I meant, Quinn stated simply.

Rachel placed the list she was working on on the table and turned. "Quinn, believe me, I'm not getting cold feet, if that's what you are afraid of," Rachel smiled. She stepped forward and kissed Quinn's lips.

"How could I, with such a gorgeous, sexy wife?" she stepped even closer and opened a button on Quinn's blouse, "So beautiful," she opened the next, pressing her body against Quinn's, stealing another kiss, "and so desirable."

Quinn felt her breath start accelerating and heat rising between her legs. She grabbed Rachel's head with both hands and kissed her back passionately.

Rachel directed her towards the couch were both women soon landed on their backs, not taking their hands off each other, working themselves into a pre-nuptial frenzy of roving hands, searching lips and ragged breaths.

After they lay sedated in each other arms, clothes strewn across the floor, Quinn threw her initial worries over board.

Rachel lay next to her, fiddling with a blonde strand, lazily twirling it around her finger and thought to herself, how on earth she could ever tell Quinn what really worried her?

© by Phoenix2013, 2015