That's your plan?

'Santana, that's your plan?' Quinn stared at her from across the room.

'What?'

'That's not a plan!' She laughed, 'that's a long shot.' Santana adjusted her position on the floor, which was difficult as her hands were bound to the side of her and were slightly elevated. 'Well, Q, do you have any better ideas?' Quinn looked away, shaking her head.

'No,' She looked at the brunette, 'but what you're saying is too risky. And what if we don't pull it off?'

'Well then he kills us and none of it will matter anymore.' Santana grinned, but sensed that Quinn was not in the mood for jokes. 'I know, alright.' She looked down. 'I know it's going to be hard but we don't have another choice here. Please tell me that you trust me.'

'Of course I trust you, but S.' She saw the look in Santana's eyes and knew that she was right, it was their only hope, 'I think you've taken one to many blows to the head.' Santana smiled.

'Yeah, probably.' She replied, and both girls giggled for a moment. 'But Quinn, if I see the opportunity, I will take it.' Quinn nodded, and then both girls started to put the plan into action. They needed to get out of the bindings, but they couldn't let Doug see what they were doing.

Quinn was scraping the thick plastic along the jagged edge of the radiator, making some progress but it was going to take a while, whereas Santana wasn't as lucky. She was fixed to a rounded, wooden bed post, nothing to scrape it on. In the end she decided to just pull as hard as she could, in the hopes of stretching the binding enough so that her hands could slip out, or even pulling the post out from under the bed. It was going to take a lot of effort, but it wasn't like they had anything else to do right.

'How you doing over there S?' Quinn asked, looking up and seeing Santana slumped back against the bed, her wrists raw from tugging so hard. 'Not great, I'm so tired. This…' she paused to catch her breath, 'this is taking more energy than I thought. How about you?' Quinn looked at the girl opposite her, weak from everything that had happened to her, but still she refused to give up, and she replied; 'Good, I think. It's started to give a little bit and I'm cutting through it a tiny amount.' Santana smiled, she really needed to hear that. 'That's good. Have you heard anything from outside?' She asked, seeing as Quinn was nearest the door. 'Not really, some walking around earlier but it's died down, maybe he's asleep?'

'Maybe,' she smiled at the blonde, and then the door swung inwards and Doug walked in.

'Ladies,' he grinned, and they glared back at him. He then proceeded to come into the room further, and stand right next to Quinn. He pulled a camera out of his pocket, and the girls just looked at each other, worry streaming through their eyes. 'So, I'm going to need you to stay still, okay blondie?'

'What the fu..' But before Quinn could finish speaking, a bright flash went off in her face. 'Jesus!' She cried, turning her head away from the camera, covering her eyes.

'Hey! What the Fuck are you doing?' Santana finished for her.

'Just taking some pictures.' He smiled down at Quinn, 'Lets just say a third party had become, interested, in taking you off my hands.'

'No Fucking way, I'm not leaving Santana, I wont.' She scowled back up at him, and then he burst out laughing.

'What is so damn funny?' Santana asked ferociously, as Doug walked over to her.

'Just the fact that blondie seems to think she has a choice.' He bent down and started to stroke her hair. And when she tired to pull away, he grabbed a handful of it and turned her to face him. 'You, sweetheart, are mine now. Don't you forget it.' And he pressed his lips firmly against hers, causing her to cry out from the pressure, and all Quinn could do was watch. He pulled back, wiping his lips with his hand, and then snapped one last picture of Quinn on his way out. 'I'm going out. You will be locked in, so don't even think of trying anything. Or instead of selling blondie, I'll just kill her, and you can watch.' He smirked at Santana as he closed the door behind him, leaving the girls alone once more. They remained quiet until they heard him leave, and then they heard the van roar away into the distance. They were alone.

'Santana, are you okay?' Quinn looked over at her, but she didn't respond. Santana had started to cry, almost hysterically, and was tugging sharply on the plastic around her wrists. 'Santana!' Quinn shouted, and she had started to cry as well. 'Santana, stop!' But she wasn't listening. She was pulling as hard as she could, pushing off of her feet to gain more leverage. After a few more minutes of this she couldn't keep it up, she had made her wrists bleed and Quinn could only watch as the muggy red substance slowly seeped down to her elbows. And then she gave up completely, put her back against the bed, and cried breathlessly. 'Santana,' Quinn said again softly, 'It will be okay.'

'No it wont Q,' She looked over at her and smiled. 'And I want you to know,' she sniffed, 'that if it happens, if he sells you, if you're not with me,' Quinn just stared at her, 'I wont survive.' And that was the moment. The moment Quinn saw all of the fight drain out of her friend. And there was no way she could let that happen if had any hope of getting out of this. 'Well, we need to make sure that he doesn't get the chance to.' Quinn replied confidently, and then went back to scraping the wrist tie along the radiator, twice as fast and as hard because she couldn't let Santana give up.