A/N: Hey, guys! Here's the next chappie! Thanks for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it. You keep me going! Enjoy this chapter! The next one's gonna be intense!

Rachel was right back at the house the next day. She felt terrible for imposing on Quinn and Michael the previous night. She shouldn't have shown up unannounced. She knew that was rude, but for some reason, she thought it would have been okay. Again, though, she was showing up unannounced, but she had a feeling Michael worked during the day so she'd only be bothering Quinn. Besides, she mostly wanted to apologize and set up a day to go out.

She stood at the door for about ten minutes. She knocked and waited. She rang the doorbell and waited. She called the number for Quinn's cell phone and received no answer, but the voicemail message assured her that it was still, in fact, Quinn's phone number. She knocked again and then stood on the porch. She didn't want to leave yet, but if Quinn wasn't home, she couldn't wait around all day. However, there was something, some feeling, preventing her from leaving.

But, really, she couldn't wait around. Who knew what time Quinn would be home? Rachel stepped down the porch steps slowly and began to head back to her car.

"Hello!"

The brunette turned to see an older woman, maybe about sixty or so, standing on the porch of the house in the neighboring yard. She stepped down from her porch and approached Rachel.

"Hi," Rachel said and offered a smile. "Do you happen to know if Quinn is in or not?

"I'm not sure," the woman replied. "Her husband took the kids this morning."

"He doesn't usually do that?" Rachel asked, sensing that it wasn't the norm.

"No," she answered. "Quinn stays home with them. Every month or so, he'll take the kids with him. He must drop them off at a sitter."

"Oh." Rachel thought for a quick moment. "I had plans with Quinn today. Holiday stuff we were doing. Shopping. Prepping for Thanksgiving." That was a lie, but she wanted to see if she could get some more information from this neighbor.

"Well... hm... I didn't happen to see her leave..." She looked toward the garage. "If her car is in the garage, she should be home..."

The woman led the way towards the garage and Rachel followed, surprised by her boldness. She peeked into the window first and Rachel followed suit. There was a dark blue minivan parked inside.

"Yep." The woman stepped away from the window. "That's hers. Hm... She didn't answer the door?"

"No." Rachel shook her head. "Not her phone either. You don't think something's wrong, do you?"

"Here." She gave a wave of her hand, indicating for Rachel to follow her. "Come with me. I'm Marie, by the way."

"Rachel." The brunette smiled.

"How do you know Quinn?" Marie asked as she led the way to her back door.

"We went to high school and college together," Rachel told her.

"Oh, how nice." Marie led her into the kitchen. "I hardly see any friends visit. It's mostly just her, Michael, and the kids." She moved toward one of the kitchen drawers and began rummaging through it. "I have a key to the front door. Don't let Michael know, he has some paranoia about break ins or something of the sort, according to Quinn. But before she got the minivan, she had a habit of locking herself out of the house. She had a key made, asked if I would hold onto it." She pulled out a key. "Here. Make sure she's okay."

Rachel stared for a moment. This seemed... weird. She took the key. "Thanks."

Marie let her back out and Rachel headed for Quinn's front door. She slid the key into the lock and unlocked the door before stepping inside. "Quinn?" she called out.

Not getting a response, Rachel closed the door and moved further into the house. She looked around and that was when she noticed the stain on the wall and glass on the floor. She frowned, quickly realizing it was the glass of the wine bottle she brought yesterday.

"Quinn!" she called out again, a little more desperately.

She moved through the house quickly, glancing into the children's rooms, then stepped into the master bedroom. She was about to leave when she saw the feet poking out from the other side of the bed. A feeling of panic washed over her.

Rachel hurried to the other side of the bed. Quinn was on the floor, dressed in the same clothes as last night. For a moment, Rachel thought she was dead, but then she saw her chest move as she breathed in. She knelt down beside her and quickly pulled out her cell phone.

"Don't worry, Quinn. I'm calling nine one one." Rachel placed a gentle handle on Quinn's shoulder, which caused her to stir.

"No..."

"Quinn." Rachel watched as Quinn turned slightly. She gasped at seeing her friend's right eye completely swollen shut, her face bloodied.

"Don't," Quinn mumbled, opening her left eye to look at Rachel.

"Honey, I'm getting you help," the brunette responded.

"No."

The blonde reached for Rachel, for her phone, trying to grab at it. Her shirt rode up and Rachel's eyes fell to the skin there. She saw reddish purple bruises, fresh. But then there were other bruises, older bruises. Greenish blue ones, yellow brown ones.

"Quinn," she said a little more sternly. She had stopped dialing after the nine and now hung up the phone. She tugged Quinn's shirt up, seeing more bruises and some red welts. "Please... please tell me someone broke in..." It was an odd thing to wish for and the blonde didn't answer.

"How long have you been on the floor?" Rachel asked her softly.

"I can't get up," Quinn said.

"Does anything feel broken?" The brunette's eyebrows drew together.

"No." Quinn started to shake her head, but stopped because it hurt. "I don't know."

"Sit up." she said. "Carefully."

Rachel helped Quinn to a sitting position. The blonde winced in pain and opened her left eye again. Her right eye was too swollen. It wouldn't open. There was blood caked to her cheek and around her nose. Blood was on her shirt and the floor too.

"What the hell happened?" Rachel asked her.

Quinn's face was throbbing, her head was throbbing. Her side hurt, her back hurt, everything hurt. And here was Rachel.

"How did you get in?" Quinn ignored her question.

"Your neighbor gave me the key," Rachel answered. "Guess she was worried about you too. This happens every month?"

That confused her. "What?"

"How often does he do this?" Rachel clarified.

Oh. She spoke softly. "Whenever I deserve it."

The hair on Rachel's arms stood up. Who was this? Where was the Quinn Fabray she knew? This wasn't her. This was a sad, defeated woman. How did Quinn end up here?

"You... we... should clean you up," Rachel announced.

She very carefully helped Quinn to stand. She wrapped her arm around her backside and led her to the bathroom. Quinn kept her focus on the floor. Rachel wasn't supposed to know about this. She wasn't supposed to see this.

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you, catch up," Rachel explained. "You know?"

"Are you caught up now?" Quinn asked bitterly.

The blonde sat down on the edge of the tub as Rachel grabbed a few paper towels and dampened them with water, ignoring Quinn's harsh tone. She moved toward the other girl and began to gently clean away the blood from her face.

Rachel was quiet for a long moment. She wanted answers, but Quinn kept shutting her out. She drew in a breath and avoided making eye contact. "How did this happen?"

"You showed up."

Her stomach turned, her face paled. Now, she met Quinn's eye. "He did this because of me?"

"Why did you show up here last night, Rachel?" Quinn glared with her good eye.

"I didn't know he would do this to you," Rachel said.

Quinn knew Rachel was right. She didn't know, but it still made Quinn angry. If Rachel hadn't shown up, things would have been all right. For once, Michael's actions weren't her fault. They were Rachel's.

"You have to leave him," Rachel told her, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

"I can't," Quinn replied.

"Of course you can," Rachel insisted.

"No." Quinn's tone was harsher. "I can't."

"Well, you can't stay with him," Rachel replied and wiped at the blood above Quinn's lip.

"Yes, I can," she insisted.

"Quinn." Rachel made eye contact.

"He said he'd kill me if I tried to leave," Quinn explained, her eyes not straying from Rachel's. It was like she could win with Rachel. She couldn't win with Michael, so she would try to win now.

"He'll kill you this way," Rachel said.

Quinn didn't respond and gave in, looking away. Rachel finished cleaning off the blood and released her face. She stepped back and tossed the paper towels into the trash.

"All done," she told her softly.

"Thanks," Quinn mumbled.

"Maybe we should put some ice on your eye?" the brunette suggested.

"Yeah." Quinn shrugged.

"Get you out of that bloodied shirt," she added.

Quinn kept quiet again. She moved out of the bathroom and winced in pain as she tugged her shirt off. Rachel stepped into the bedroom and covered her mouth with her hand as she saw the bruises on Quinn's body.

"Quinn..." There were tears in Rachel's eyes now. "No one should touch you like this." She approached her quickly, turning her, needing to see her face. She lightly brushed some of the blonde hair back. "You don't deserve this."

"Shut up, Rachel."

The brunette pressed her lips together and swiped her tears away as she watched Quinn put on an oversized shirt before tugging off the jeans she had been wearing and tossing them aside. She walked out of the bedroom then and Rachel followed after her.

Quinn was grabbing a bag of frozen broccoli from the freezer when Rachel stepped into the kitchen.

"Why don't you sit?" Rachel asked. "I'll make you something to eat."

Without a word, Quinn sat at the table and pressed the broccoli bag to her swollen eye. She stared at the table. Rachel glanced at her friend. Sitting, Quinn's t-shirt didn't cover as much skin and there were more bruises exposed on her thighs.

Swallowing hard, Rachel tried to ignore that for now. She began looking through the cupboards. "I could make you a sandwich... Or pasta. Or there's some tuna in here."

"That's not mine," Quinn muttered.

"What?" Rachel frowned, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

"That's Michael's stuff," Quinn told her. "I just have soup. Next cabinet over."

Rachel opened the other cabinet and saw dishes and cups, but the bottom shelf had cans of soup on it. "You just have soup," she repeated slowly. "You can't eat his food?

"No."

The brunette stared. "He controls what you eat."

Quinn turned slightly to look at her. "Can we not do this?"

Rachel shook her head. "Quinn, you're in a prison."

She was pissed now. She just wanted Rachel to leave her alone. "And what would you like me to do about it? Call the police? And then he makes bail and he finds me and he kills me. Or I take the kids and run? He'll find me, he'll have me charged with kidnapping or child endangerment or something."

"No one would let him do that to you with you looking like you do because of him," Rachel said quickly.

"You don't know him, Rachel," Quinn replied. "You don't know what he's capable of. The... The first and only time I threatened to leave him... He beat me until I blacked out. I woke up in the back yard. There was three feet of snow on the ground. I was so cold, I could barely move. When he finally let me back inside, he held a knife to my throat and said if I ever pulled anything like that again, if I ever left, he'd put me underground."

Rachel was about ready to kill this douchebag herself. She tried to keep her emotions at bay, however, to not upset Quinn anymore. She focused on soup. She focused on heating the soup up. She focused on feeding her friend.

"There are solutions to every problem, you know," she said softly.

Quinn stared back down at the table. "Other than killing him, I don't see it."

"Self defense," Rachel said. "If you thought he was about to kill you, and you were defending yourself, that would hold up in court."

"Rachel." Quinn looked over to her friend, but only saw her backside as she cooked. "No. He's... he's the father of my children."

The brunette turned slightly. "Does he hit them too?"

"Of course not," Quinn answered quickly. It was true, though. He never did.

"Do you think he will once he's killed you?"

"I can't talk about this anymore." Quinn looked away.

"Here's your soup." Rachel set the bowl and a spoon down in front of Quinn and then sat opposite her. She would stay here until Quinn was going to talk about it. They were going to figure this out. Now that Rachel knew what was happening, there was no way she would let this continue.