The Perfect [7/10]
Title: The Perfect
Author: Effy (asutex)
Rating: R
Warnings: language, sexual situations, homosexuality, abuse
Disclaimer: Still no ownage of Glee on this end, how about you?
Summary: To anyone else, it was just Rachel and Jesse. Rachel, the ignored beauty. Jesse, the arrogant dream man. Rachel Berry and her perfect boyfriend. The sight forced a frustrated sigh from Quinn's lips. She really hated Jesse.
-
No bones were broken. Nothing was broken, that was all that mattered.
That was a lie.
She was broken.
How did she become this shell of a person?
It had taken two hours; one-hundred twenty whole minutes, for her to end up back at her front door. All she had received was a gentle, but firm apology. It hadn't sound very apologetic, honestly. Yet, she had simply murmured to him that there was absolutely nothing wrong; that he wasn't at fault, it was her own doing because she had forced him into a corner. She had made him punish her.
Suddenly, those words sounded odd.
At some point between leaving the car and walking up to her room, something had changed. It fully hit her when she had pulled off her blouse and caught a look at her body in the mirror. There were only a few spots of unblemished skin. The outline of that stick was clear. Each furious formerly red welt had begun to darken into various purples, greens and blues. They melded together to form ugly colors across her otherwise beige skin. It was an awful contrast.
Tonight had made all of the difference. Rachel loved Jesse. She loved him and was devoted to him. And now, she found that she was also scared of him. Fear was not supposed to have a place in a relationship, right? How was she to know, though? It wasn't as though she had had many boyfriends. Perhaps this was a totally normal part of all healthy relationships.
That didn't seem right either.
Rachel gently touched her soft abdomen, but winced anyway. It hurt. It hurt a lot. She had to note every bruise by looking in the mirror. She needed to know where each mark was so that she could properly cover them up. Unfortunately, she only had so much make-up. Certainly, she didn't have enough cover-up for all of the discolored skin. Rachel frowned as she struggled to decide which marks to take care of.
It wasn't as though anyone would be seeing her shirt off anytime soon, so she only needed to take care of the ones that might show if her shirt happened to raise up for some reason. Just as she started to organize her her cosmetic products on her bed, the phone next to her buzzed softly. The vibration was followed by an insistent burst of song. Specifically, it belted out a tinkling that went along the tune of I Dreamed a Dream.
'hey. im outside. let me in? - B'
B?
B as in Brittany? That had been a stupid question. Of course, it was Brittany. Only Brittany signed her texts with a B. Still, that couldn't be right. As she hastily tossed a shirt back on and padded down the stairs, Rachel soon discovered that the Cheerio, Brittany, was actually outside of her house. The blond gave her usual bright smile upon the opening of the front door and bounced inside. Well, okay then.
The tall Dutch girl happily followed Rachel back up to her room and agreed to be quiet so that she would not wake the Berrys because, after all, it was very late.
"Brittany, is there a reason that you've decided to come traipsing over to my home without any forewarning?" Rachel asked of the girl quietly after her door clicked shut.
"...Yeah, there is."
Rachel's brow furrowed with worry. Brittany had gone from her usual happy-rainbows-and-kittens self to a more subdued, serious version of herself. She had never experienced anything like it before with the girl. This was nothing like the Brittany she knew. It was unnerving.
Without a single word, Brittany closed the space between them and her fingers curled under the hem of the loose tee she had thrown on after discarding her blouse. Shocked and unable to formulate an appropriate response, Rachel felt her face growing hot from the implications of the blond's actions. Was this just about sex? If it was, Brittany really didn't waste any time with sweet talking.
Then Brittany's hands were gently tracing shapes on her stomach. Wait. That wasn't right. Panic set in as a horrible realization hit her. Brittany knew? Brittany knew about what Jesse had done. Brittany knew. How the hell did Brittany know?
"Britt - I can explain, really, I can..." A long pale finger pressed lightly against Rachel's lips to silence her fumbled explanations. It worked.
"I know, Ray." Brittany's voice was heartbreaking as she caressed the bruises with the utmost care. "I saw you go into the woods from my porch. I was talking to San on the phone and then you and Jesse just came from nowhere. I thought it was weird. I mean, he had to carry you back to the car. I knew you were hurt. I was worried."
"You're the only one who knows about this, right?" Rachel's voice bordered on desperate. The brunette gave a shiver from the continuous feel of Brittany's feather soft hands observing the damage that Jesse had done. "It-It wasn't his fault, Brittany. I promi-"
"Liar." Rachel's eyes went wide at the firm declaration. She had never heard Brittany take that tone with, well, anyone. Not ever. Brittany had always seemed to be the ever-bubbly, slow but lovable cheerleader. Rachel wasn't sure to think at this change in her. "San knows too. She's angry. She started swearing and everything."
"S-She won't tell Quinn? Please? Don't tell her. Don't tell anyone else. Please, Brittany, I'm begging you..." Her pleading voice was more like a whimper. Brittany's clear blue irises were soft and conveyed extreme sadness. To her horror, Rachel saw tears welling up in the Cheerio's eyes. Those eyes seemed completely unable to tear themselves away from her bruised body. It made Rachel feel extremely naked and vulnerable.
Everything was unraveling.
Rachel was shaking violently, wrapping her arms around herself as though to shield her torso from Brittany's view. It didn't work and Brittany just pulled her into a hug. This couldn't seriously be happening. It couldn't. She and Jesse had been so careful about hiding this part of their relationship. A sick feeling twisted her muscles into tight, painful knots as she realized something. Brittany's reaction to this method of punishment led her to conclude that this was not a part of a normal relationship. Somehow, it was too much for her to accept that.
"San's going to be butting you tomorrow. She said so." Brittany's tone was so full of doubtless conviction that Rachel wasn't sure if she should ask.
"Butting, Brittany?" Her question was gentle.
"Yeah, like following you around and stuff!" Ah. Of course.
"Do you mean 'tailing', Brittany?" This was answered with a noncommittal shrug that showed that the blond honestly didn't care what the proper word was. It only then crossed her mind that Brittany had never promised not to tell Quinn. She had avoided the question. Still, she almost didn't want to push the subject. The only reason that she didn't want Quinn to know was because she was terrified that the former-Cheerio would react just as Brittany had. The last thing that she wanted was for Quinn to feel such sorrow.
"Ray...?" Her Brittany-exclusive nickname was spoken hesitantly.
"Yes, Britt?"
"You know... this isn't what people are supposed to do when they love each other, right? San told me. She told me that if anyone hurt me, I should call her right away and she'll take care of me. If you love someone, you don't hurt them." The simple explanation made Rachel tremble, squeezing her arms around the slender blond. The squeeze was reciprocated gently. "Hey, Ray? Do you want a shirt?"
Leave it to Brittany to make her blush furiously.
Rachel immediately scrambled to pick up a shirt from her floor. Her friend seemed completely unaffected by the sight of one of her friends half naked. After all, she had been the one to reduce her to that state all too easily. Had her motivations been different, the blond probably would have been able to ease her into the sack with so much as a blink on her part.
Brittany ended up staying the night. As awkward as it may have been, Brittany insisted that, since they were having a sleep over, they should sleep in the same bed. After all, she and Santana did that all of the time! Rachel didn't care to point out that the hotheaded Latina and the blond had a very different relationship. Like a puppy, the loving Cheerio cuddled up close to her before falling asleep. At some point, she even draped an arm around Rachel's waist. The brunette diva found that, surprisingly, she didn't mind. It was comforting.
What would have been more relaxing than this? Quinn. Quinn would have made things better tenfold, no offense intended to her Dutch friend.
Brittany grasped her hand and happily helped her carry her possession into school the following morning. As promised, Santana was impatiently waiting by the diva's locker. Dave Karofsky was just scurrying away like a frightened mouse, the remnants of green slushie dripping from his clothes. The hockey player also appeared to have his hands awkwardly placed in front of his groin. He and Santana had apparently had 'words'.
In her normal exuberant manner, Brittany bounced over to her unspoken girlfriend and threw her arms around her neck. The Latina returned the embrace gently, her dark eyes only closing for a second so that she could relish the contact with her girlfriend. The exchange was sweet and brief because Santana pulled away, eyes fixated intensely on Rachel.
"Let's go, Berry." As Brittany cheerfully took Rachel's hand again, it became obvious that she was not going to be given an option. The diva was led down the hallway and noticed something that seemed too weird to actually be happening. With Santana and Brittany flanking her, the crowds of usually cruel teenagers parted to either side of the hallway. The throngs of people only regrouped once the cheerleaders were a safe distance ahead of them. Otherwise, the masses avoided eye contact and tried to stay as far away from the trio as possible.
No wonder the Cheerios strutted around school as though they held all of the power in their palms. This was exactly why. They felt entitled because people treated them as such. If people didn't scramble out of the way whenever a Cheerio came around, maybe the hierarchy would be arranged differently.
Of course, maybe it was just Santana. Admittedly, the girl was slightly terrifying when she wanted to be.
Where were they taking her? They hadn't mentioned anything to her.
Santana opened the door to a bathroom, barked harshly for everyone to get the hell out and then waited for Brittany to enter with Rachel. The lock clicked behind them. The diva barely noticed as her eyes were too focused on the blond before her. Quinn. They had Quinn in here. She spun on her heel to face Brittany with a betrayed expression on her face, but the Cheerio wouldn't meet her eyes.
"Quinn, why are you here?" Rachel's voice wasn't as calm as she would have liked it to be. The former Cheerio glanced over at Santana before taking a few steps towards her, hands clasped together in front of her body.
"Santana said that there was something you needed to tell me." Uncertainty spread across her face. Obviously, the Latina had implied that this was Rachel's idea and so the brunette's confusion didn't make any sense.
"There is something she wants to tell you. Go ahead, Berry. Tell her. Show her, if you'd like. Do it... or I'll do it for you. Your choice." The impatience in her voice earned a reproachful frown from her girlfriend. Santana at least had the decency to grimace and then appear appropriately apologetic.
Rachel remained frozen to the spot. Seeing that the girl was not about to do what was expected of her, Brittany casually slid forward and began undressing her again. Looking up, Rachel saw a completely unexpected emotion on Quinn's face. The normally peaceful smile on her lips had been replaced by those same lips being pressed into a tense, tight line. The hazel eyes burned with indignant jealousy. The glee club star felt heat rising to her face again and gave Brittany the time that she needed to pull her top off.
In an instant, the envy had vanished and made room for disbelief to set in. The bathroom fell silent at once. It was so quiet that they could even hear the soft sound of her shirt hitting the floor as clearly as if it were a firecracker. It was as though Quinn didn't honestly understand what she was seeing. The sheer force of her gaze made Rachel want to cover herself up. This couldn't be happening. Leave it to Santana to make this more dramatic than was necessary.
"That son-of-a-bitch did this to her. The one who claims to love her and calls Berry his girlfriend." The hatred boiled just beneath the surface, harsh and biting. It seemed that even Santana couldn't bring herself to look at the injuries too much as she turned her head away to press her forehead into her pretty girlfriend's shoulder, the dark brown eyes closing. A stream of expletives flowed from the Latina's lips and ranged from the most crude English swears to the more liquid Spanish.
Quinn still didn't speak. Her arms had simply wrapped around herself, one hand biting her knuckles as her hazel eyes scanned across every inch of blemished flesh. Then the eyes finally rose to meet her own gaze. Rachel found herself unable to tear her eyes away, no matter how desperately she tried to do so.
And then hell broke loose.
In a flash, Quinn was out of the room and sweeping down the hallway as a force of nature. It was something like a hurricane concentrated into a slender, seventeen-year old girl's body. It was a magnificent, tremendously intimidating sight to behold. Santana and Brittany hastened to cover Rachel up and usher her back into the bathroom to redress herself. The Latina gave her girlfriend a kiss on the lips before rushing out to catch up to Quinn. Brittany was left to tend to a quaking, tearful Rachel.
Quinn, on the other hand, could only see red in front of her eyes. Everything in her line of sight better damn well move out of the way or be prepared to be shoved aside in the most violent way possible. Faces were considered briefly and then dismissed without a second thought once that she knew that they did not belong to the boy she was looking for. There was nothing that Jesse St. James could do that would excuse or explain away his actions. At that moment, she couldn't get the image of that petite, battered body from her mind. How could anyone do that to her? How could he sleep at night knowing that he had brutalized that girl?
The moment that Jesse came into view, Quinn zeroed in on him like a predator would prey.
"You bastard." Her voice was not her own. It was low and grating.
Her fist pulled back and pelted the confused looking boy right in the jaw. Jesse stumbled backwards, eyes wide with shock, and was unprepared for the kick that struck him way below the belt. All color drained from his face and a strangled sound squeaked from his mouth in the least masculine way possible before he crumbled to the ground. It was around that moment that Quinn felt herself being pulled away from the boy she had just attacked. Voices were questioning her, but she had eyes only for Jesse.
"Get the hell back on your feet, St. James. Get up!" The ruthless cheerleader was back in full force, demanding that she be allowed to continue her assault.
It seemed that Matt and Mike were making every effort to hold her back even as she seethed. There was another scuffle except that Santana burst through the ranks of the crowd and, with admirable strength, shoved Jesse to his feet against a locked and jabbed her knee up into the boy's groin. Santana was like one of a valkyrie of Norse mythology. At that moment, she earned Quinn's trust and respect faster than anyone else had before. Every wrong that had been done was instantly forgiven. With each blow of her fists and brutal wrench of her knee, a broader sneer curled the blonde's lip higher.
There was note of pleased viciousness that tinged Santana's normally beautiful face. Then Quinn turned her head and caught sight of Rachel curled into Brittany's arm. The former Cheerio barely noticed that she was being hauled away by an administrator.
This was well worth being suspended for. Quinn wasn't done with Jesse St. James yet.
Author: Effy (asutex)
Rating: R
Warnings: language, sexual situations, homosexuality, abuse
Disclaimer: Still no ownage of Glee on this end, how about you?
Summary: To anyone else, it was just Rachel and Jesse. Rachel, the ignored beauty. Jesse, the arrogant dream man. Rachel Berry and her perfect boyfriend. The sight forced a frustrated sigh from Quinn's lips. She really hated Jesse.
-
No bones were broken. Nothing was broken, that was all that mattered.
That was a lie.
She was broken.
How did she become this shell of a person?
It had taken two hours; one-hundred twenty whole minutes, for her to end up back at her front door. All she had received was a gentle, but firm apology. It hadn't sound very apologetic, honestly. Yet, she had simply murmured to him that there was absolutely nothing wrong; that he wasn't at fault, it was her own doing because she had forced him into a corner. She had made him punish her.
Suddenly, those words sounded odd.
At some point between leaving the car and walking up to her room, something had changed. It fully hit her when she had pulled off her blouse and caught a look at her body in the mirror. There were only a few spots of unblemished skin. The outline of that stick was clear. Each furious formerly red welt had begun to darken into various purples, greens and blues. They melded together to form ugly colors across her otherwise beige skin. It was an awful contrast.
Tonight had made all of the difference. Rachel loved Jesse. She loved him and was devoted to him. And now, she found that she was also scared of him. Fear was not supposed to have a place in a relationship, right? How was she to know, though? It wasn't as though she had had many boyfriends. Perhaps this was a totally normal part of all healthy relationships.
That didn't seem right either.
Rachel gently touched her soft abdomen, but winced anyway. It hurt. It hurt a lot. She had to note every bruise by looking in the mirror. She needed to know where each mark was so that she could properly cover them up. Unfortunately, she only had so much make-up. Certainly, she didn't have enough cover-up for all of the discolored skin. Rachel frowned as she struggled to decide which marks to take care of.
It wasn't as though anyone would be seeing her shirt off anytime soon, so she only needed to take care of the ones that might show if her shirt happened to raise up for some reason. Just as she started to organize her her cosmetic products on her bed, the phone next to her buzzed softly. The vibration was followed by an insistent burst of song. Specifically, it belted out a tinkling that went along the tune of I Dreamed a Dream.
'hey. im outside. let me in? - B'
B?
B as in Brittany? That had been a stupid question. Of course, it was Brittany. Only Brittany signed her texts with a B. Still, that couldn't be right. As she hastily tossed a shirt back on and padded down the stairs, Rachel soon discovered that the Cheerio, Brittany, was actually outside of her house. The blond gave her usual bright smile upon the opening of the front door and bounced inside. Well, okay then.
The tall Dutch girl happily followed Rachel back up to her room and agreed to be quiet so that she would not wake the Berrys because, after all, it was very late.
"Brittany, is there a reason that you've decided to come traipsing over to my home without any forewarning?" Rachel asked of the girl quietly after her door clicked shut.
"...Yeah, there is."
Rachel's brow furrowed with worry. Brittany had gone from her usual happy-rainbows-and-kittens self to a more subdued, serious version of herself. She had never experienced anything like it before with the girl. This was nothing like the Brittany she knew. It was unnerving.
Without a single word, Brittany closed the space between them and her fingers curled under the hem of the loose tee she had thrown on after discarding her blouse. Shocked and unable to formulate an appropriate response, Rachel felt her face growing hot from the implications of the blond's actions. Was this just about sex? If it was, Brittany really didn't waste any time with sweet talking.
Then Brittany's hands were gently tracing shapes on her stomach. Wait. That wasn't right. Panic set in as a horrible realization hit her. Brittany knew? Brittany knew about what Jesse had done. Brittany knew. How the hell did Brittany know?
"Britt - I can explain, really, I can..." A long pale finger pressed lightly against Rachel's lips to silence her fumbled explanations. It worked.
"I know, Ray." Brittany's voice was heartbreaking as she caressed the bruises with the utmost care. "I saw you go into the woods from my porch. I was talking to San on the phone and then you and Jesse just came from nowhere. I thought it was weird. I mean, he had to carry you back to the car. I knew you were hurt. I was worried."
"You're the only one who knows about this, right?" Rachel's voice bordered on desperate. The brunette gave a shiver from the continuous feel of Brittany's feather soft hands observing the damage that Jesse had done. "It-It wasn't his fault, Brittany. I promi-"
"Liar." Rachel's eyes went wide at the firm declaration. She had never heard Brittany take that tone with, well, anyone. Not ever. Brittany had always seemed to be the ever-bubbly, slow but lovable cheerleader. Rachel wasn't sure to think at this change in her. "San knows too. She's angry. She started swearing and everything."
"S-She won't tell Quinn? Please? Don't tell her. Don't tell anyone else. Please, Brittany, I'm begging you..." Her pleading voice was more like a whimper. Brittany's clear blue irises were soft and conveyed extreme sadness. To her horror, Rachel saw tears welling up in the Cheerio's eyes. Those eyes seemed completely unable to tear themselves away from her bruised body. It made Rachel feel extremely naked and vulnerable.
Everything was unraveling.
Rachel was shaking violently, wrapping her arms around herself as though to shield her torso from Brittany's view. It didn't work and Brittany just pulled her into a hug. This couldn't seriously be happening. It couldn't. She and Jesse had been so careful about hiding this part of their relationship. A sick feeling twisted her muscles into tight, painful knots as she realized something. Brittany's reaction to this method of punishment led her to conclude that this was not a part of a normal relationship. Somehow, it was too much for her to accept that.
"San's going to be butting you tomorrow. She said so." Brittany's tone was so full of doubtless conviction that Rachel wasn't sure if she should ask.
"Butting, Brittany?" Her question was gentle.
"Yeah, like following you around and stuff!" Ah. Of course.
"Do you mean 'tailing', Brittany?" This was answered with a noncommittal shrug that showed that the blond honestly didn't care what the proper word was. It only then crossed her mind that Brittany had never promised not to tell Quinn. She had avoided the question. Still, she almost didn't want to push the subject. The only reason that she didn't want Quinn to know was because she was terrified that the former-Cheerio would react just as Brittany had. The last thing that she wanted was for Quinn to feel such sorrow.
"Ray...?" Her Brittany-exclusive nickname was spoken hesitantly.
"Yes, Britt?"
"You know... this isn't what people are supposed to do when they love each other, right? San told me. She told me that if anyone hurt me, I should call her right away and she'll take care of me. If you love someone, you don't hurt them." The simple explanation made Rachel tremble, squeezing her arms around the slender blond. The squeeze was reciprocated gently. "Hey, Ray? Do you want a shirt?"
Leave it to Brittany to make her blush furiously.
Rachel immediately scrambled to pick up a shirt from her floor. Her friend seemed completely unaffected by the sight of one of her friends half naked. After all, she had been the one to reduce her to that state all too easily. Had her motivations been different, the blond probably would have been able to ease her into the sack with so much as a blink on her part.
Brittany ended up staying the night. As awkward as it may have been, Brittany insisted that, since they were having a sleep over, they should sleep in the same bed. After all, she and Santana did that all of the time! Rachel didn't care to point out that the hotheaded Latina and the blond had a very different relationship. Like a puppy, the loving Cheerio cuddled up close to her before falling asleep. At some point, she even draped an arm around Rachel's waist. The brunette diva found that, surprisingly, she didn't mind. It was comforting.
What would have been more relaxing than this? Quinn. Quinn would have made things better tenfold, no offense intended to her Dutch friend.
Brittany grasped her hand and happily helped her carry her possession into school the following morning. As promised, Santana was impatiently waiting by the diva's locker. Dave Karofsky was just scurrying away like a frightened mouse, the remnants of green slushie dripping from his clothes. The hockey player also appeared to have his hands awkwardly placed in front of his groin. He and Santana had apparently had 'words'.
In her normal exuberant manner, Brittany bounced over to her unspoken girlfriend and threw her arms around her neck. The Latina returned the embrace gently, her dark eyes only closing for a second so that she could relish the contact with her girlfriend. The exchange was sweet and brief because Santana pulled away, eyes fixated intensely on Rachel.
"Let's go, Berry." As Brittany cheerfully took Rachel's hand again, it became obvious that she was not going to be given an option. The diva was led down the hallway and noticed something that seemed too weird to actually be happening. With Santana and Brittany flanking her, the crowds of usually cruel teenagers parted to either side of the hallway. The throngs of people only regrouped once the cheerleaders were a safe distance ahead of them. Otherwise, the masses avoided eye contact and tried to stay as far away from the trio as possible.
No wonder the Cheerios strutted around school as though they held all of the power in their palms. This was exactly why. They felt entitled because people treated them as such. If people didn't scramble out of the way whenever a Cheerio came around, maybe the hierarchy would be arranged differently.
Of course, maybe it was just Santana. Admittedly, the girl was slightly terrifying when she wanted to be.
Where were they taking her? They hadn't mentioned anything to her.
Santana opened the door to a bathroom, barked harshly for everyone to get the hell out and then waited for Brittany to enter with Rachel. The lock clicked behind them. The diva barely noticed as her eyes were too focused on the blond before her. Quinn. They had Quinn in here. She spun on her heel to face Brittany with a betrayed expression on her face, but the Cheerio wouldn't meet her eyes.
"Quinn, why are you here?" Rachel's voice wasn't as calm as she would have liked it to be. The former Cheerio glanced over at Santana before taking a few steps towards her, hands clasped together in front of her body.
"Santana said that there was something you needed to tell me." Uncertainty spread across her face. Obviously, the Latina had implied that this was Rachel's idea and so the brunette's confusion didn't make any sense.
"There is something she wants to tell you. Go ahead, Berry. Tell her. Show her, if you'd like. Do it... or I'll do it for you. Your choice." The impatience in her voice earned a reproachful frown from her girlfriend. Santana at least had the decency to grimace and then appear appropriately apologetic.
Rachel remained frozen to the spot. Seeing that the girl was not about to do what was expected of her, Brittany casually slid forward and began undressing her again. Looking up, Rachel saw a completely unexpected emotion on Quinn's face. The normally peaceful smile on her lips had been replaced by those same lips being pressed into a tense, tight line. The hazel eyes burned with indignant jealousy. The glee club star felt heat rising to her face again and gave Brittany the time that she needed to pull her top off.
In an instant, the envy had vanished and made room for disbelief to set in. The bathroom fell silent at once. It was so quiet that they could even hear the soft sound of her shirt hitting the floor as clearly as if it were a firecracker. It was as though Quinn didn't honestly understand what she was seeing. The sheer force of her gaze made Rachel want to cover herself up. This couldn't be happening. Leave it to Santana to make this more dramatic than was necessary.
"That son-of-a-bitch did this to her. The one who claims to love her and calls Berry his girlfriend." The hatred boiled just beneath the surface, harsh and biting. It seemed that even Santana couldn't bring herself to look at the injuries too much as she turned her head away to press her forehead into her pretty girlfriend's shoulder, the dark brown eyes closing. A stream of expletives flowed from the Latina's lips and ranged from the most crude English swears to the more liquid Spanish.
Quinn still didn't speak. Her arms had simply wrapped around herself, one hand biting her knuckles as her hazel eyes scanned across every inch of blemished flesh. Then the eyes finally rose to meet her own gaze. Rachel found herself unable to tear her eyes away, no matter how desperately she tried to do so.
And then hell broke loose.
In a flash, Quinn was out of the room and sweeping down the hallway as a force of nature. It was something like a hurricane concentrated into a slender, seventeen-year old girl's body. It was a magnificent, tremendously intimidating sight to behold. Santana and Brittany hastened to cover Rachel up and usher her back into the bathroom to redress herself. The Latina gave her girlfriend a kiss on the lips before rushing out to catch up to Quinn. Brittany was left to tend to a quaking, tearful Rachel.
Quinn, on the other hand, could only see red in front of her eyes. Everything in her line of sight better damn well move out of the way or be prepared to be shoved aside in the most violent way possible. Faces were considered briefly and then dismissed without a second thought once that she knew that they did not belong to the boy she was looking for. There was nothing that Jesse St. James could do that would excuse or explain away his actions. At that moment, she couldn't get the image of that petite, battered body from her mind. How could anyone do that to her? How could he sleep at night knowing that he had brutalized that girl?
The moment that Jesse came into view, Quinn zeroed in on him like a predator would prey.
"You bastard." Her voice was not her own. It was low and grating.
Her fist pulled back and pelted the confused looking boy right in the jaw. Jesse stumbled backwards, eyes wide with shock, and was unprepared for the kick that struck him way below the belt. All color drained from his face and a strangled sound squeaked from his mouth in the least masculine way possible before he crumbled to the ground. It was around that moment that Quinn felt herself being pulled away from the boy she had just attacked. Voices were questioning her, but she had eyes only for Jesse.
"Get the hell back on your feet, St. James. Get up!" The ruthless cheerleader was back in full force, demanding that she be allowed to continue her assault.
It seemed that Matt and Mike were making every effort to hold her back even as she seethed. There was another scuffle except that Santana burst through the ranks of the crowd and, with admirable strength, shoved Jesse to his feet against a locked and jabbed her knee up into the boy's groin. Santana was like one of a valkyrie of Norse mythology. At that moment, she earned Quinn's trust and respect faster than anyone else had before. Every wrong that had been done was instantly forgiven. With each blow of her fists and brutal wrench of her knee, a broader sneer curled the blonde's lip higher.
There was note of pleased viciousness that tinged Santana's normally beautiful face. Then Quinn turned her head and caught sight of Rachel curled into Brittany's arm. The former Cheerio barely noticed that she was being hauled away by an administrator.
This was well worth being suspended for. Quinn wasn't done with Jesse St. James yet.