a/n: right-o, so another long one! Reviewer, "Depp", gave a brilliant prompt about matt protecting quinn from some bullies - so here it is! I tried keeping the characters true themselves, while adding some much needed nuance. This is once again a quinn pov chap, and was very fun to write – much more light-hearted compared to a few other ones

Next chap will arguably be the most important, cuz that's when the big "reveal" will happen. I'm aiming to upload it by Monday – I know, I know that's a long time away… but I unfortunately have college essays to write :(

… also soz for having the author's note at the top again :(

When September finally comes around - months after regionals - Quinn Fabray swears that junior year will be different.

No longer was she forced to wear floral dresses and go on frequent bathroom breaks. She didn't have to stuff in more food for a growing fetus, nor was she condemned to watching the Cheerios from the sidelines.

No, ladies and gents! Quinn Fabray was back in action – and yet, everything had changed.

She felt it when she first walked down the hallways in her Cheerios uniform – there was no air of confidence surrounding her; rather a tiny voice of insecurity.

Turns out, giving birth isn't as elegant as television or the British royal family make it out to be. And though Quinn loved Beth deeply – the little infant had left her mark on Quinn in the form of stretch marks and cellulite. And it turns out high school boys are much more brutal when it came to both of these things. It prompts her to want to wear tights under Cheerios skirt, or better yet, hide herself away for good.

That desire only lasts a moment – the very next, hungry desire fills her once more. After all, Quinn did not give her child up, just to feel sorry for herself.

No, she made a sacrifice – and Quinn was going to ensure that it didn't go in vain. She was going to cement her place at the top once more. No matter what.

Okay, Quinn will admit it – sometimes she thinks she's forgotten how to be Head Cheerio.

Freshman year seemed like a distant dream, and sophomore year a recent nightmare that in-between it all, she secretly thinks that she's lost her edgy spark.

It becomes tortuous attending Celibacy Club meetings without thinking about her own lack of it, and it becomes difficult seeing newbie Cheerios get hazed by their senior counterparts. Brittany tells her it's her motherly empathy. Quinn scowls at the suggestion at first, though secretly can't help but agree with it.

"You're too nice," Santana tells her one day over lunch, after Quinn had recounted her encounter with the new transfer-student, Sam Evans. The poor blonde-headed boy had been a recent victim of a rather nasty slushie, and Quinn Fabray couldn't help but want to help him.

Quinn pouts, picking at the cold meatloaf on her lunch tray. "I was just trying to help him."

Santana scoffs at the comment, "Sure. Just make sure a Beth 2.0 doesn't happen."

Quinn thinks if it was anyone else who had said the comment, she would have probably slapped them. But Santana Lopez was her friend, and she was used to the raven-headed girl trying to get a rise out of her.

So instead, Quinn stuffs her mouth full of cold meatloaf – hopefully that keeps her from saying something she'll regret.

It turns out Santana did, indeed, get the last laugh.

Because not only did Quinn Fabray end up dating Sam Evans, but she ended up cheating on him as well!

Isn't that just swell?

Quinn supposes the writing was always on the wall. It's difficult to keep a healthy relationship when there is no trust, and from the beginning she could sense the honey-haired boy's distrust. She figures secretly pining over Finn Hudson didn't exactly help her cause either – it's even worse, considering they ended up sharing a (paid) kiss.

But Sam was the past now – Finn was her future.

And Quinn can't lie, she's elated that they are back together again. It just seems so right. Star quarterback and Head Cheerio, back together – ruling McKinley High in the way that they were supposed to.

With Finn, she could once again cement her place a the top of the pecking order – where she rightfully belonged.

Except… not everyone seemed to agree.

Quinn notices the looks she'll get in Glee sometimes. Glares from Sam, scowls from Mike and Tina, and sneers from Santana. Even Mercedes will shoot her a look of disappointment from across the room.

Rachel was always insufferable towards her, Quinn "stealing" Finn was just the final nail in the coffin for the brunette.

But the rest of them? Quinn just doesn't understand.

Sure, she cheated – but she didn't deserve to be crucified over it. And damn it, she was Head Cheerio, again. So what right did lowly Glee club members, out of all people, had in judging her whims and wants.

Finn tells her not to worry about it – but Quinn thinks it's easier for him to say that given he couldn't read body language for the life of him. Finn doesn't see those little moments – those little looks of pity or disgust or disappointment.

Quinn does.

They nearly want to make her rip her hair out. She tries for a while to block them out, and not pay attention to them. She focuses on herself and Finn – just the two of them.

But then…

She'll have Mercedes quietly share a snack with her during Glee recital, or notice how Artie is always the first to clap after she performs a solo, or even note the way a certain linebacker always smiles her way – without prudence, without judgement.

And she thinks that all the people she ever truly loved – and who ever truly loved her – were in this room.

Suddenly, change didn't seem bad – and being Queen Bee not as desirable.

Quinn supposes she'll just have to find a way to have both, then.

The one change that Quinn didn't mind, was the quiet friendship (it was just a friendship... right?) that bubbled with a certain lowly linebacker.

Quinn won't lie – following their tiny moment in the hospital, she was half-expecting Matt Rutherford to let the entire school know that she had "kissed" him – if one could even call a peck on the cheek, a kiss. Exaggerating the quaint moment, like any regular jock would.

She braced herself to be hazed by the football team, mocked by Santana and Brittany, and have the entire Glee Club question her on the moment.

… but she doesn't.

Other than Mercedes playfully teasing her whenever she glances his way, there is no indication that anyone even knew that Miss "President of the Celibacy Club" had kissed lowly linebacker Matt Rutherford.

Though Quinn rarely sees him – outside of class and Glee.

Though they didn't share Spanish class this year, they did have 1st period Algebra together – a class which the poor linebacker was not the best at, to put it lightly.

He sat next to her, and often times would ask for help on homework sheets.

"Psst… Quinn?" he says one particular morning. Sitting next to her, he examined his worksheet. "why do these numbers have letters attached to them?"

Quinn's eyes would always dart around the room, just make sure no one would notice their exchange – it was a bad habit, and one she hoped he didn't notice. "They're variables, Mattie." she'd reply quickly with a whisper, and tight voice.

"Ah… right! Uh… variables. Got it." He'd reply, voice still full of evident confusion.

And he would always leave it at that – never questioning her again. Never pressing her for more help. Even if he desperately needed it.

Quinn doesn't understand it, but ends up chalking it up to Matt Rutherford just being Matt Rutherford. So instead, she'll sneakily write the right answers on his assignments when he's away on a bathroom break or will "accidentally" leave her test-paper too close to him – hoping that the foolish linebacker is smart enough to just copy off her.

Of course, he isn't. And she'll always end up finding him staring at a failing grade when the quizzes are handed back.

"I hate linear equations…" he mutters one day, staring at a quiz which was dressed in red-ink. A big, red 'F' covered the top right corner. The linebacker places it down in disappointment. He glances over at the Head Cheerio. "I hope you did better than me…"

The blonde covers her test-score with her arm, obscuring it from the linebacker's view – she had gotten perfect. And yet, just didn't have the heart to tell that linebacker that. "I got a C+." she lies blankly, feigning disappointment in her tone.

Matt slumps his shoulders, "Aw man. I was hoping at least you'd do well."

It takes Quinn all her might not to smile at his sincerity.

If there was one thing Quinn Fabray was really looking forward to with her rejuvenated popularity – it was the protection she got with it.

Even while pregnant, the young blonde was not immune to slushie attacks from fellow Cheerios and jeers from the meat-headed jocks.

And yet, she soon finds that such may just be a fleeting wish – as she soon discovers one quaint morning.

She's walking down the hallway from an early morning Cheerios practice session, on the way to her locker to pick up her Algebra textbook.

And that's when she sees it – her locker, or at least what looked like her locker. Dozens of condom packets and diapers were glued onto the metal door, while bright pink-graffiti spelt out a single word:

'WHORE'

Her heartbeat quickens and breath hitches. Quinn instantly rushes towards the locker, and begins frantically trying to take the condoms and diapers off. It is, to no avail – whoever had stuck them on there, had used some kind of super glue.

She digs her nails into her palms, in an effort to calm herself – luckily McKinley High was still deserted in the mornings… or so she thought.

A voice snarks behind her, "I love the new look for your locker, Quinn. Sends a great message."

Quinn clenches her jaw, and finds a rather amused Dave Karofsky standing behind her. He held a large slushie cup – sipping it every now and then - and had fixed a rather obnoxious grin on his face.

A face Quinn was all, but ready, to slap.

"Did you do this, Karofsky?!" she tries to maintain composure in her voice, though seething rage can't help but slip through the cracks.

The jock grins widely, taking another sip. "You like it? I was trying to capture the essence of you."

Quinn digs her nails into her palms once more. 'my essence?' she thinks, 'being a "whore" is in my essence?'

The thought infuriates her, and she tries to find something – anything – to strike back at the jock with. Her eyes settle on the bright-pink colour of the graffiti. "I didn't know pink was your colour, Karofsky?"

Karofsky frowns at that – of course he does. The jock's masculinity was as fragile as glass and Quinn's remark – though small – was enough to send the meat-headed football player into disarray.

He rips open the lid of his slushie in anger. Quinn sees a deep-blue slush inside the cup, and instantly regrets saying anything.

"Yeah? Well let's see if blue is your colour." He barks.

Time slows here for Quinn – it usually does when getting slushied. She's never been on the receiving end of too many, but she's figuring all that might change this year.

She sees him extend his arm back, slushie cup tilted at an angle. Quinn supposes she better brace for impact, and closes her eyes shut tight. She waits for the shock of cold, cold, slush to hit her face… she waits…

And waits… and waits… and wa-

-"Woah oh! Hey!" a voice, which is definitely not Karofsky's, chimes in quickly and suddenly. She opens her eyes hesitantly, and sees a certain lowly linebacker have his arms slung around Karofsky's neck – not necessarily in a manner of friendship, but rather as if he was trying to subdue the jock.

Quinn takes a breath of relief – Matt Rutherford was sometimes right there when she needed him.

Karofsky pushes the linebacker away with force, "Get the hell off me, Rutherford!"

Matt raises his hands in peace, a visible attempt to diffuse the situation. "Woah, calm down buddy."

But it only seems to agitate Karofsky further, prompting the jock to give Matt another one-handed shove. "I ain't your 'buddy', Rutherford!"

Matt's eyebrows furrow, the goofy smile he had fading instantly. "Calm down, Dave." commands the linebacker, no longer a jovial tone in his voice.

But Karofsky was not one to obey commands – least of all to lowly linebackers. He scrunches his face together in anger, eyes narrowing. Then in a swift, strong motion throws the slushie he held in Matt's face.

Quinn gasps, like she was in one of those cheesy horror movies. The sheer impact of the throw sends droplets of blue-slush towards herself – staining bits of her Cheerios outfit. But that is nothing compared to the mayhem on the linebacker's face.

It looked like somehow had dropped a blue-bomb on the upper-part of Matt Rutherford's body. The linebacker stands completely still – Quinn guesses half out of shock, half due to the frosty slush itself.

"That calm enough for ya?" mocks Karofsky. He throws the now-empty slushie cup at Matt's head – the plastic cup bounces off his skull and tumbles a couple metres down the hall. Karofsky shoots a narrowed look Quinn's way, and then walks down the hallway in a fit of rage.

Matt reaches for his eyes, digging bits of blue slush out of his pupils – "That… uh, that was not how I expected for it to go." He says, squinting.

She grimaces at him, taking a step closer to the slushied linebacker. "Are you okay, Mattie?"

The linebacker shakes his arms, spraying blue slush around him. He looks down at his varsity jacket – the original deep red colour of the fabric was now stained purple in certain places, and unfortunate effect of colour theory.

"I don't know…" replies Matt, defeated. He seemed panicked, as he looked around. "I-I… I feel blue!"

It was such an odd response to her question, that Quinn Fabray can't help but let a small laugh slip out. But she regrets it immediately, as the linebacker looked back at her confused and disheartened – clearly unsure if the Head Cheerio was laughing at him or the situation.

Her face softens, and she takes an apprehensive step towards him, lightly flicking bits of slush off his arms. "Thank you for… that, Mattie."

Matt nods, beaming pearly whites her way. "Anytime." He replies, and then looks back towards her vandalized locker. The word 'WHORE' was covered in light specks of blue slush, but not enough to cover it up. The linebacker grimaces, "Karofsky is… he-he's a real-"

"-asshole?" she suggests, attempting to finish his sentence.

Matt nods smiling, clearly amused with her choice of word. He looks down at mess he was in, "Well… I better go get cleaned up. So… er, yeah."

He looks at her, almost expectantly. And though Quinn keeps a straight face, she winces inside. As much as she wanted to aide the lowly linebacker in getting cleaned up… she just can't.

'Sorry, Mattie', she wants to say, 'but I'm trying to be a better girlfriend this year. And I can't go around cleaning lowly linebackers in bathrooms, when I'm supposed to be ruling McKinley with my star quarterback of a boyfriend..'

But all that is a mouthful to say. Besides, Head Cheerios don't need to explain themselves to lowly linebackers, do they? And if Quinn Fabray wanted to rule McKinley High once more, she had to start acting the part.

So instead, she simply gives his hand a tight squeeze – half out of reassurance, half out of gratitude. His fingers are cold, rough, and wet with dripping blue-slush. So much so, that when she lets go of his hand, she finds the slush had stained the skin of her own palms a deep blue as well.

"I'll see you in Algebra, Mattie."

If the linebacker was disappointed with her response, he didn't show it. Rather his lips purse into the faintest of smiles.

"See you then, Quinn."

And with that, Matt Rutherford waddles down the hallway – leaving a little trail of blue slush, as he made his way to the boys' bathroom.

As for Quinn? She felt a strange pang of guilt bubble inside her, causing her to want to immediately find her boyfriend, Finn Hudson.

She's confused at first, as she rushes down the McKinley hallways to the quarterback's locker. Because, it's not like she had cheated on him? Sure, the last time she was with a slushied-boy she ended up dating him… but she certainly wasn't going to continue that cycle – right?

Still, the conversation with the linebacker left her feeling raw. And she wanted the comfort of her boyfriend, rather continuing to fight the butterflies which were forming in her tummy.

She spots the raven-haired teen immediately – walking behind him, she gives him a huge hug from behind. It felt like relief; it felt like fidelity.

He must've guessed who she was, because he turns immediately – giving her a kiss.

Finn asks how she was – she lies charmingly and tells him that she was fine.

He looks curiously down at her hands, and chuckles seeing the blue stains on her palms. "Did you dip your hands in paint?" he quips.

She forces a laugh, as she tries to rub the colour away – but the stain does not go.

Her palm remains blue, just like the linebacker's stain – Quinn thinks that if she pondered long enough, she'd find something symbolic about that.

But then the quarterback pulls her in for a hug, and Quinn Fabray momentarily forgets about pink graffitied lockers and blue-stained linebackers.

Or at least tries to.