fic: That Went Well - Part 2
Title: That Went Well - Part 2
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Quinn, Brittany, Will, Emma, Sue, Figgins, New Directions
Rating: R
Summary: Santana wants to screw with Quinn. Unfortunately, it doesn't go as planned.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~13,100
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: There's mention of an abusive relationship. Nothing major, since there's little to no angst in this series, but just to be safe, possible trigger warning.
A/N: Technically starts before the end of It Went Swimmingly.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
Flow Charts Are Never Wrong | Revelations and Confrontations | Cuffed | Physics and Golf | The Student Becomes the Master | Breaking Into School is Easy to Do | Keeping Up Appearances | Games People Play | Ink and Gossip | Like That Movie, Open Water | Berry verses Lopez | Playing With Fire | Organized Chaos Abound | Best Served Cold | Rapiers at Dawn | It Went Swimmingly
Part Two
Despite knowing this whole beating thing isn't close to over, Rachel is trying to ignore it. She hopes she's wrong and that Santana has gotten through to Quinn. She's finding this whole thing very distracting and disturbing.
What really gets to Rachel though is the fact that once again Mr. Schuester doesn't believe in her, actually thinks she would do such a thing. Even though she gave up on her supposed mentor a while ago, it still hurts.
Rachel knows she's bossy, driven, conceited, intense, demanding and a bit self centered. But girlfriend beater she certainly is not. And it really hurts that anyone would believe it. Especially Mr. Schuester. Though maybe she shouldn't be surprised. He has continually let her down time and again.
She can't believe Quinn went to Mr. Schue of all people though. Rachel would have thought Quinn's instincts would have been to go to Coach Sylvester. Though, what Quinn really craves is a caring father figure to solve all her problems, so of course Mr. Schue fits that bill perfectly. Coach Sylvester is who you go to when you need something taken care of.
Maybe Rachel should go to Coach Sylvester. She'd certainly put the kibosh on this whole thing.
That will be Rachel's last resort. She's not using up her favor on this nonsense. That favor is way too valuable to just throw away like that. Maybe if Santana goes to her instead. She'll have to mention that to her girlfriend later.
…
"Thank you for coming, Santana," Emma says just as the lunch bell rings.
Santana just glares. This has gotten completely out of control. "I'm here under protest."
"Well, I certainly appreciate both your candor and you showing up, even if you didn't want to."
"Yippee," Santana mutters.
"I just wanted to touch base with you," Emma begins. "See how you're doing."
"Is this a new thing?"
"Excuse me?"
"Because you've never check in with me before," Santana continues. "Or are you just really slowly going through the whole school?"
"Mr. Schuester has some concerns," Emma explains. "And since you didn't want to talk to him about it, we both thought I might be a better choice."
"I'm fine."
"Your lip and your eye?"
"Aren't anything to be concerned about," Santana tells her.
"If someone's hurting you or threatening you, Santana, we can help you. I know it might seem like you're alone in all this, but you're not."
"No one's hurting or threatening me. Like I said, I'm fine."
"Then why won't you tell anyone what happened this weekend?"
"Because it's none of your business," Santana replies. "I'm fine."
"Okay. Okay."
"Can I go now?"
"Of course. But remember, if you ever need to talk, my door is always open."
Santana just stands and stalks out.
…
Once again, Rachel finds herself in Figgins' office.
"Well, Ms. Berry, I'm hoping you've come to the correct decision," he says.
"It's only been twenty-seven hours."
"That's plenty of time for an intelligent student as yourself to decide."
"If that's true, then my answer is, no thank you," Rachel replies.
"I see you need more time to think," Figgins says. "Very well. I hope you're taking everything into consideration as you make this decision."
"I'd really rather not do this."
"We'll touch base again later this week," Figgins continues.
"Right. May I go to lunch now?"
"Of course."
…
The end of lunch bell has just rung when Will knocks on Emma's door. She looks up and waves him in. He closes the door behind him.
"How'd it go?" he asks.
Emma sighs. "As well as I expected it to go. She says there's nothing wrong."
"But there is," Will insists.
"That may be true, Will," Emma says. "But if she denies it, there's very little else you can do."
"Until she gets seriously hurt or worse?"
"Will," Emma says. "Let me ask you. Do you really believe that Rachel would do such a thing? She and Santana seem to be great together. Is it possible that Quinn got something confused?"
"She's Santana best friend other than Brittany," Will replies. "She has to know her well enough to judge that sort of thing. Don't you think?"
"I suppose that's usually true," Emma agrees. "But in this case, are you really sure? I've sensed some… tension between them lately."
"I have too, but that doesn't diminish years of friendship."
"Things are different for high school girls, Will," Emma tells him.
"I know that."
"You can't apply your adult male logic," she continues.
"I know."
"Also, the logic of someone in an abusive relationship is different. You're still using your logic to approach things. It won't help you."
"Emma," Will says. "I know these kids. I'll admit I don't know Santana as well as some of the others, but that's more because she's a Cheerio than anything else." He nods. "Actually, I think I know exactly what will help."
"I'm afraid to ask."
"But before that, I was hoping you could maybe talk to Rachel."
"Will, I don't think that's such a good idea," Emma protests.
"Why not? You've talked to Rachel before. You seem to have a good rapport with her. Well, as much as anyone can. I think you might be able to get through to her."
Emma sighs again. "Fine." It's easier to agree than to keep arguing. "I'll talk to her tomorrow. But, Will I make no promises."
"Thanks Emma. I really appreciate it."
She nods.
And then he's gone, off to do more Will Schuester type things.
…
Rachel finds a note in her locker asking her to stop by Ms. Pillsbury's office. As if she doesn't know what that's about. She sighs; she might as well go because not going will make her look guilty.
She doesn't bother knocking, just enters and slides into a chair.
"I see you found my note," Ms. Pillsbury says.
"Look, you managed to pick the one day where I’m not extensively busy, so you get ten minutes," Rachel replies. "Nonetheless, I would appreciate it if you would cut to the chase." Rachel crosses her arms across her chest. "As if I don't know what this is about," she mutters.
This has apparently flustered Ms. Pillsbury, because she flutters a moment before speaking. "Yes, well, as you're aware, there have been some concerns about your relationship with Santana."
"And while we both appreciate the sudden and startling adult concern, it's not necessary," Rachel replies. "This all started because my damn girlfriend wanted to trick her best friend. And it's spiraled out of control."
"No one's accusing you of anything Rachel. But neither of you have provided an explanation for Santana's injuries."
"Nor should we have to," Rachel snaps. "There haven't been any other signs. One isolated incident does not concern make. Mr. Schue is simply latching onto something one of his favorites has said and is behaving like a dog with a bone."
"I'm sure Mr. Schuester doesn't have favorites," Ms. Pillsbury tries.
"If he doesn't have favorites, then I don't own any argyle."
"Rachel, I realize Mr. Schuester is harder on you than others, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care."
"Ms. Pillsbury," Rachel says. "I know he cares. However, he only cares because he has to as a teacher and because I am a talented singer. It's certainly not because he likes me as well as he does Finn or Quinn."
"It just seems that way because they went through so much last year," Ms. Pillsbury replies.
"Look, can we just move on from Mr. Schue?" Rachel asks. "Santana's injuries have a perfectly logical and reasonable explanation. However, she's not comfortable sharing them and therefore, she has asked me to keep silent. I, of course, have done so because she asked, despite my increasing ire over this absurd situation. I can promise you that she is not being threatened, hurt, beaten or abused that I know of."
"Rachel…"
"And I resent the fact that no one seems to believe me. Why is it in all the years I've attended this institution, you've never stood up for me when I was the target of scorn and ridicule. Nor did, Mr. Schue. This all feels like too little too late."
"Perhaps we should schedule another meeting," Ms. Pillsbury says. "You seem to be harboring some previously unseen anger that may need addressing."
"Please don't pyscho-analyze me, Ms. Pillsbury. It is unnecessary and I hesitate to acknowledge your qualifications."
"Rachel, just because you're upset, doesn't mean you need to be rude."
"I'm being tactless," Rachel replies. "There's a difference."
"Do you think if both you and Santana were to talk to me it would help?"
"There's nothing to discuss," Rachel tells her. "Santana and I are fine. Our relationship is fine and you have nothing to worry about. I don't know how many times I can repeat that before someone believes me."
"This is a safe environment, Rachel," Ms. Pillsbury continues as if Rachel hadn't spoken. "Nothing you say here will be judged or mocked."
"I'm not sure you know how to mock someone, Ms. Pillsbury," Rachel says. "You're too nice."
"Thank you?"
"I need to get going, so I'm going to do that," Rachel says, standing. "I thank you for your concern, no matter how unfounded. I also apologize, it seems I've let my indignation take over, which I'm not proud of. However, that being said, please drop this whole thing. It's unnecessary and a waste of time."
"Rachel, we're not done yet."
"I have somewhere I need to be," Rachel tells her. "Bye Ms. Pillsbury."
And before Ms. Pillsbury can say anything else, Rachel is gone.
…
That night, Brittany is woken up by her cell phone. She glances over and sees that it's three in the morning. Quickly, she grabs her phone, worried there's an emergency.
"Hello?"
"Britt, I'm sorry to call so late. Nothing's wrong."
"Hi Rach, that's okay. I was just sleeping."
"I imagine so," Rachel says. "Listen, are you up for pulling a quick small prank?"
"I just need to get dressed."
"Excellent," Rachel replies. "I'm waiting outside."
…
Thursday morning before school starts, Sue finds her office full of people she doesn't want in her office.
"Q," Sue begins. "What is the meaning of dragging Curly and Bambi in here?"
"I'm sorry Coach," Quinn says. "We have no one else to turn to."
"Is that true, William?" Sue asks with a smirk. "You actually need my help?"
"If this wasn't about a student, I wouldn't be here," Will snaps.
"Fine. Let's hear the problem that William Schuester can't solve."
Emma, knowing she has to separate Will and Sue as soon as possible, begins. "You've seen Santana's appearance this week? The, uh, injuries?"
"I have," Sue nods.
"Well, we have some concerns," Emma continues. "Quinn believes that Santana is being beaten."
Sue lets out a bark of laughter. "Who would dare? That bitch would just kick 'em in the balls."
"She probably does have balls," Quinn grumbles.
"Um, Quinn seems to think it's Rachel's doing, actually," Emma says.
This actually wipes the smirk off Sue's face. "Please repeat that."
"I think Berry has been beating on Santana," Quinn tells her.
Sue looks at Will. "And you agree with her assessment?"
He nods. "I do."
"Despite Berry's lack of violent nature?"
"We have other evidence," Will says.
"Such as?"
"We've all tried asking Santana where the injuries came from and she refuses to say. The same with Rachel. When we ask her, she clams up as well. And Quinn even tried asking Brittany, but it was confusing at best."
"So you're basing it on a cut lip and a refusal to ask questions?" Sue probes.
"Just think about it, Coach," Quinn says. "Santana's been weird ever since she started dating the midget. Add that and it totally makes sense."
Sue looks between Will and Emma for a moment and then to Quinn. Then back at Will. "My girl here just insulted your star loser and you're not going to say anything?"
"She's said worse," Will replies. "And that's not the issue."
"I'm finding this situation, very interesting," Sue says.
"We just thought you might be able to get through to Santana," Emma says. "She seems to resent our involvement."
"Imagine that."
"Please Coach," Quinn says. "I'm worried about S."
"I'm sure you are, Q." Sue eyes them all. "But I don't have time to talk about this. I have an important conference call happing in…" Sue looks at her watch. "Less than five minutes. Out of my office."
"Sue, you have to be concerned about this."
"I am, indeed, William. But like I said, I don't have time at the moment."
"Will, let's go," Emma says. "Sue will deal with it as she sees fit. We both know it."
"See? Uma here, knows."
Emma leaves first, followed by an agitated looking Will and finally a pleading Quinn.
…
That morning, the students of McKinley enter to find a neon orange six inch wide stripe painted on the floor. It's perfectly straight and just seems to keep going. A lot of people ignore it; but Finn doesn't need to be anywhere this particular second, so he follows it. Head down, staring, he does his best to not bump into too many people. Being tall is an advantage at the moment, because almost everyone sees him coming.
There are a few others walking with him, obviously curious as well. They're following him and the stripe, though not as diligently as he is. The longer it goes on, his paranoia grows. What if there's some cruel joke at the end of it? He knows Rachel did, but why? What could be at the end? Is he going to have something dropped on him?
The longer he follows it, the more Finn wonders why he's following it. The length makes him think that there's something horrible at the end. But he's already come this far and his curiosity is growing.
The ringing of the bell draws him out of his stripe following haze and he looks around at the students flooding into the hall. Checking his watch, he sees that he's spent first period following the stripe. How is it that he hasn't found the end yet?
"Finn," Kurt's voice cuts into his thoughts. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to figure out this stripe," Finn replies. "I just want to find the end."
"Uh, how long have you been following it?" Kurt asks.
"Since I got here. I can't believe how big this school is," Finn says. "I mean, I've been following it forever and I still haven't found the end."
Kurt shakes his head. He can't believe his step brother sometimes. "Finn, I hate to break it to you, but it doesn't end."
"It has to eventually," Finn insists. "Lines have beginnings and ends."
"They do," Kurt nods. "But circles don't."
"What?"
"The stripe circles the whole school and then comes back and meets up where it started."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah," Kurt says.
"So I've been following this stripe for nothing?"
"I guess."
"Great," Finn says. "That's really great." He stomps off angrily.
…
Kurt has been searching for Mercedes since before school started. He knows he could call her, but this is something that requires face time. He wouldn’t be able to properly discuss it over text, besides his first period teacher would have taken his phone. He's done it before.
Running into Finn is distracting, but amusing; though Kurt's not sure if Finn's mad at him for point it out or at himself for being so gullible.
Spotting Mercedes down the hall, Kurt pushes his way through the thongs of students until he reaches her.
"You will not believe what I overheard this morning," he tells her.
"What?"
Looking around the crowded hallway, Kurt decides this isn't the place to talk. "Come on."
…
"You're a real bitch, you know that, right," Finn says when he finds Rachel at her locker.
"I do," Rachel replies. "But what makes you say that today?"
"That orange stripe?"
"What about it?"
"I spent all first period trying to find the end. And then Kurt tells me that it's just a circle."
"Didn't you notice that you were walking by the same things over and over?" Rachel questions.
"I was looking at the stripe."
"Obviously," Rachel says, wryly. "But how does that relate to me being a bitch?"
"Because you did it," Fin hisses. "Prankster."
"You're allowed to believe what you like, Finn."
"How could you do that to me?" Finn asks.
"Not everything is about you, Finn." Rachel closes her locker. "I have to go to class."
Finn is left staring after her.
…
In the relative privacy of the choir room, Kurt sits, eager to share.
"So?"
"I was walking by Coach Sylvester's office this morning, after practice and I overheard Quinn, Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury tell Coach that Rachel is beating Santana."
"What?!"
"I know. But that's what they said."
"It has to be some kind of joke."
"Apparently not," Kurt replies. "Coach said she'd look into it."
"What does that mean?"
Kurt shrugs. "I don't think she's taking it as seriously as Quinn and Mr. Schue are."
"Do you think it's true?"
"I have no idea," Kurt replies. "But it has to be if Mr. Schue actually went to Coach for help. He hates her."
"True."
They sit in silence, absorbing the information.
"Do you think we should do something?" Mercedes asks.
"Like?"
"I don't know. We could try talking to Rachel about it."
"Is that such a good idea?" Kurt asks. "What if she reacts badly?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Mercedes answers. "Of course she's going to react badly. But we'll get a few of us together and we'll try talking to her about it. As long as we she knows we're only trying to help, it'll hopefully be okay."
"All right. When?"
…
"What the fuck, Fabray?" Puck growls when Quinn finally lets go of his shirt.
He'd been at his locker when the blonde had swept by and dragged him into an empty classroom.
"We need to talk."
"Obviously." About what?"
"Berry. And Santana."
"Yeah? And?"
"Why haven't you done anything to stop it?" Quinn asks.
"Stop what?"
"The abuse."
"Who's getting beat up?" Puck questions.
"Santana. Rachel's using Santana as a punching bag."
Puck starts laughing.
Quinn slugs him in the arm. "It's definitely not funny, Puckerman."
"It is. It's hilarious that you think Rachel is beating Santana."
"What else am I supposed to think?" Quinn asks. "She shows up Monday looking like she was in a fight and won't tell anyone what happened."
"Maybe it's none of your damn business, Quinn."
"I'm worried about her."
"Why is Rachel naturally the bad guy?" Puck asks. "Maybe Lopez and I got into it this weekend?"
"Ha! Then you'd be the one limping around, not her."
"Oh. So Santana can take me, but not Rachel?"
"That's different."
"Have you shared this theory with Santana?" Puck asks.
"I have," Quinn nods.
"I take it, it didn't go well?"
"It didn't."
"Denied it?"
Quinn nods.
"But you can't let it go?"
"I'm worried about her," Quinn says.
"Rachel would never do anything like that," Puck tells her.
"Then why won't they tell me what happened this weekend?"
"Them? You talked to Rachel too?"
Quinn nods again.
"Bet that went well."
Quinn shakes her head.
"You shouldn't have done that," Puck says. "What do you have against Rachel?"
"I'm worried about Santana," Quinn defends. "She's my best friend--at least she was before Berry stepped in."
"She still would be, if you'd just be nicer to Rach."
"Gotta protect your bro, huh," Quinn mocks. "You're such an asshole."
"Yeah I am," Puck replies. "But not because of that, Fabray. Do you really think that if my girl was a wife beater, we'd be bros? Hell no."
"Well that makes me feel better," Quinn says, voice full of sarcasm.
"It should," Puck insists. "The Puckster has standards, after all."
"Barely."
"Whatever. Are we done here?"
"Why? It's not like you go to class," Quinn says.
"Well, I'm definitely not going to just stand here and let you rip on my bro. And since you obviously don't believe me, we're kinda at an impasse."
"Jeez, is there anyone that Berry hasn't infected?"
"I'm out of here. Later, Fabray." Puck stalks out, leaving Quinn alone in the empty classroom.
…
Brittany's pleased with the results of the stripe. More people have fallen for it than she thought would. And for longer than she thought.
Then there's Finn Hudson. He spent all of third complaining about how much time he wasted following it. Apparently he circled the school three and a half times before Kurt pointed it out to him. Brittany is barely able to keep her laughter in. Luckily he's too pissed to notice the huge grin on her face.
…
Rachel realizes that pulling another prank actually made her situation with Figgins worse. At the time, she didn't care. She'd been so irritated that it hadn't crossed her mind. But sitting in his office during lunch, she regrets her hastiness.
"…must have heard something," he says.
"People are either speculating on why it was done or laughing at their friends who fall for it," Rachel replies. "That's it."
"I still can't find any physical evidence of anyone. I just don't understand how it's possible for no physical signs as well as no rumors or gossip about it."
"I'm sure there's gossip," Rachel says. "Though it's mostly speculation, I think."
"Well let's hear it."
"I'd rather not."
"I just need something, anything to go on," Figgins says.
"I'm not going to implicate someone off of rumors," Rachel replies.
"It's not an implication," Figgins tells her. "It'll simply bring up the name or names of someone who needs to have an eye kept on them."
"Like what happened with me? When you read in some blog that I'm the culprit? Because that interrogation was certainly fair."
"That was a unique situation that got slightly out of hand. I admit I handled it badly."
"Please stop asking me, Principal Figgins," Rachel says. "I can't tell you anything, must less what you want to know."
They stare at each other over the desk. Figgins blinks first.
"Fine. Thank you for your time, Ms. Berry," he says. "You're dismissed. However, I do not consider these circumstances dealt with. We will be revisiting them."
"It'll be a waste of time," Rachel says, standing.
"Enjoy your lunch, Ms. Berry."
Rachel nods once and walks out.
…
Kurt feels quite fortunate that Rachel isn't at lunch. This gives him and Mercedes the perfect opportunity to plan an intervention. He figures it can happen before glee, since Rachel's always early.
He looks around the table, picking and choosing who should be there and who would make things worse. He's pretty sure Puck would be on Rachel's side. Brittany is a toss up. As Santana's best friend, she would want to protect Santana, but she's also friends with Rachel. Finn would definitely make things worse. Tina's voice of reason would be welcomed; and she gets along with Rachel. As does Artie. Mike's always good for moral support.
So he just needs to keep Finn and Puck away and things should go smoothly. Now he just needs to figure out how to make it happen.
…
Rachel spends her remaining lunch time in the choir room. However, not wanting to interact with anyone she sits in the corner, out of sight of the door, behind chairs and instruments. She feels rather juvenile doing so, but her need to be alone supersedes it.
She knew pulling a prank would only result in her being dragged into Figgins' office, but she'd let her frustration override the logical part of her brain. It's something that's been happening a lot more lately. She blames her girlfriend.
The problem is she just wants to pull another prank; which will, of course, just make her problem worse.
So instead, she brainstorms how she's going to convince Mr. Schue and Quinn that she does not in fact beat her girlfriend.
Twenty minutes later when the end of lunch bell rings, she has no solutions.
…
When Rachel walks into the choir room, she knows something she doesn't want to deal with is about to happen. It's written all over Kurt and Mercedes' face. It's probably the fake grins plastered on their faces.
"Hey guys," Rachel says.
"Rachel," Kurt replies. "We're glad you're here. There's something we wanted to talk to you about."
"All of you?" Rachel asks. Because it's odd that so many people actually beat her here. Looking around, the only people missing are Quinn, Puck, Finn and Santana.
"Yes, all of us."
"Okay."
"I, uh, overheard something rather unpleasant this morning," Kurt begins. "And after discussing it with Mercedes, we decided we want to help."
Rachel just nods, waiting.
"Apparently Quinn, Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury think you're the reason for Santana looking like she lost a fight this weekend."
Rachel groans. It really isn't her week.
"Now," Kurt continues, hastily, taking Rachel's aggravation for something else. "We're not trying to jump to conclusions. We swear. But we do have some concerns. And we figured the best way to deal with this is to just confront them head on."
"Of course," Rachel says, sarcastically.
"And so we thought we'd approach you and get your side of the story."
"My side of the story?" Rachel questions. "That makes it sound like I did something wrong."
"Nobody's saying that," Mercedes says. "We just want to get your input on this situation."
"I'm not sure what you want me to say," Rachel replies. "It's not true. Though no one seems to believe that."
"Then why won't you tell us what really happened this weekend?" Kurt asks.
"No."
No one knows how to respond to that.
"Good. Now that that's settled," Rachel says. "May I warm up now?"
"You can't simply refuse and not expect us to react," Mercedes says.
"But no one did react," Rachel points out.
"Rachel," Tina tries. "I'm not saying you did it. Trust me. Just tell them and then we can move on."
"Look guys. I'm sure Santana appreciates the support, but I didn't hit her. I've never hit her. She's fine."
"Your reluctance to talk about this weekend is troubling me," Artie comments.
"Definitely. Right?" Kurt adds.
Rachel sighs. "I hate this week," she mutters.
"You guys are nuts," Brittany pipes up. "Rach would never hit Santana."
"Then what happened this weekend?" Mercedes asks.
Brittany just shrugs.
"That, unfortunately, is not comforting," Artie says.
"It's not?" Brittany asks.
"No."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Anyway," Kurt says. "We're back to square one."
"You guys really think I'm a girlfriend beater?" Rachel questions.
"We don't know," Mercedes answers. "That's why we're asking."
"You all think that?"
No one says anything.
"Tina? Really?" Rachel continues.
"I don't know what to think Rachel," Tina replies.
"Artie?"
"I'm here for support and to find out what exactly is going on," Artie tells her.
"Mike?"
"Kurt said he needed moral support," Mike replies. "But I don't know what to think."
"And Brittany's here because?"
"I want to be."
The choir room door swings open and Quinn strolls in.
"What's going on?"
"Is there anyone you haven't told that I'm a girlfriend beater, Quinn?" Rachel asks.
"What? No. I haven't--what?"
"We were just discussing what happened this weekend," Kurt explains. "I overheard something rather unpleasant this morning after practice and we're just trying to get to the bottom of it."
Quinn has the decency to look embarrassed. "Heard that, did you?"
"I happened to be walking by," Kurt tells her. "Besides, why are you embarrassed? You're worried about Santana. That's nice."
Rachel snorts.
"It is," Kurt says, glaring at Rachel.
"Quinn and nice don't belong in the same paragraph," Rachel mutters.
"Has she admitted it yet?" Quinn asks.
"No," Rachel says. "Because there's nothing to admit."
"Says you," Quinn shoots back.
"It's the truth," Rachel insists.
Quinn and Rachel are now standing toe to toe, eyes locked in a hateful glare.
"Okay then," Quinn says. "Answer this for me. Did you make Santana get a tattoo?"
"What if I did?"
"A tattoo that says, Rachel Berry's Bitch?"
Some gasps. Rachel thinks it's Kurt, but she can't be sure with her eyes still locked with Quinn's.
"Holy shit," Mercedes mutters.
"Maybe there's more validity to this than I thought," Artie whispers to Tina and Mike.
Mike nods.
"Yes," Rachel confirms. "And?"
"I think that's all the evidence we need," Quinn announces.
"That tattoo proves nothing," Rachel tells her. "I have one that's just as possessive."
"Which you got to counter hers," Quinn replies. "Whose idea were the tattoos?"
"You mean who came up with the design?" Rachel asks.
"Yeah."
Rachel sighs. This is going to seal it for Quinn. "I did."
"See?" Quinn is triumphant.
"How do you know the whole thing wasn't Santana's idea? And then I just made it more succinct?"
Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Mike and Artie look back at Brittany to see if she's confused by the use of 'succinct', but she doesn't seem to be. They all face forward, mildly confused.
"Oh please," Quinn says. "Santana might have mentioned getting tattoos, but I'm pretty sure you made it happen."
"Actually Puck is the one that found the tattoo artist," Brittany interrupts.
"Yeah, but who asked him to?" Quinn questioned.
"I didn't ask him," Rachel replies. "We were discussing it and he said he knew someone. I simply requested Santana's presence."
"Yeah, but did you ask her about what it was going to be or did you just tell her?" Quinn pushes.
"She's the one that wanted tattoos," Rachel says. "It was her possessive streak that was pushing."
"And yet hers is the most possessive thing I've ever seen."
"Mine doesn't exactly declare me a free agent," Rachel points out. "Why didn't I just make her get one?"
"To fool us," Quinn counters. "When we all found out about your tattoo, never once did you mention hers."
"So? I was worried you'd make fun of her."
"Or you knew I'd see what it really means."
The girls go back to glaring at each other.
"This isn't getting us anywhere," Mike comments.
"We're never going to figure this out," Kurt adds.
"I think we're losing sight of the real issue here," Brittany says.
"What's that?" Tina asks.
"It seems to me that we're experiencing a real quandary."
Everyone, but Rachel stares at Brittany. Quinn and Kurt's jaws actually drop.
"I mean," Brittany continues. "Rachel's going to continue denying it and you guys are going to keep not believing her. The only way out is for Rach to lie and say she did do it, but then that leads to another kind of dilemma."
"I agree," Rachel says. "We're at an impasse."
"So we do nothing?" Kurt asks.
"We need to figure out a sure fire way to determine who's telling the truth," Brittany suggests.
"Like what?" Mercedes asks.
Everyone takes a moment to think that over.
The choir room door opens and Mr. Schuester walks in with Santana, Puck and Finn trailing behind him.
"Uh, hi guys," Mr. Schue says. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Rachel replies. "We're simply waiting for glee to start."
He looks around the room. Quinn and Rachel are still facing off. Brittany is in the back row looking bored. Artie, Tina and Mike are sitting in the front row watching while Kurt and Mercedes are hovering around Quinn and Rachel.
"Okay…"
"I think it'd be prudent if we started," Rachel says. "Don't you, Mr. Schue?
"I suppose so. Why you all have a seat and we'll just jump right in."
…
Glee is as close to being a disaster it can be without Rachel storming out, Finn hurting anyone while dancing, Kurt complaining or any sort of singing competition. For that, Will is grateful. However, the tension in the room is so thick, he's choking on it. His ability to sing is actually being suppressed by all the anxiety and aggravation in the room.
He wonders what he missed. It's obvious something happened before practice started, but he's afraid to ask. He wonders if that makes him a coward.
…
Santana's surprised when Mercedes holds her back after practice. They've never really gotten along or even interacted.
"Listen, girl," she begins. "I know it might not be my place, but I still gotta say it. If you ever need a place to crash or hide out, you know where to find me."
"All right…"
"I just meant that if maybe you were afraid of being found or needed to get away from everything and everyone, I don’t mind if you stop by."
"I'll keep that in mind," Santana says, hesitantly.
"It's just I've heard… things. And I wanted you to know I'm in your corner. We all are."
"Thanks. But I'm fine."
"I'm not saying you're not," Mercedes quickly replies. "I'm just saying if it ever gets not fine, I'm here."
"Right. Okay. Well, I'm gonna go. Don't want to keep Rach waiting."
"Definitely. Definitely don't want to keep her waiting or get her mad."
"See you tomorrow," Santana says. She then quickly exits, shooting an odd look over her shoulder.
…
"Do you think that was enough?" Mercedes asks Kurt.
They're going back to his place to study and hang out.
Kurt glances over as he drives. "It's all we can do really, right? I mean, Mr. Schue is involved. And Coach Sylvester. Surely they're better equipped to deal with this, right?"
"I guess. I just feel like we should be doing more."
"Isn't that always true?" Kurt muses.
They drive in silence for a whole minute before Mercedes says, "Can you believe Santana has a tattoo proclaiming herself as Rachel's bitch?"
"I know, right? I don't know what's more surprising, that or Brittany's use of the word quandary."
"We should have just skipped glee and kept talking. Imagine what else we would have learned," Mercedes replies.
"I'm not sure how many more deep dark secrets I can take," Kurt tells her. "What if we find out Mr. Schue performs It's Raining Men on the weekend in Cleveland as the drag queen, Luscious Lucinda?"
"Ahhh! Why would you think that?" Mercedes asks. "Now I'm going to have nightmares tonight."
…
Santana knows Rachel's pissed at her. Her girlfriend hasn't spoken since they got into the car. Santana doesn't know why, though. She does know it's only a matter of time before Rachel lets her know.
However, it isn't until they're in Rachel's bedroom that she says anything
"Well, I hope you're happy. Everyone things I'm a wife beater."
"If we're married, then you owe me a ring."
"You know what I mean," Rachel snaps.
"Who knew Quinn would get Mr. Schue involved," Santana muses.
"Yes, well, I'm glad you're amused."
"It's nice not being the bad guy for once," Santana comments. "That's what's bugging you, isn't it?"
"What?"
"You don't want them to think badly of you. You like being thought of as innocent."
"Maybe a little," Rachel admits. "It helps with the Prankster thing. And it feels nice to know people care."
"It really does," Santana agrees.
"It's just unfortunate that one of us has to be the bad guy for that to happen."
"Yeah. Maybe next time we can pretend Hudson beat us up," Santana suggests.
"I wish that didn't appeal to me so much," Rachel says.
"He's a lying, pathetic, weak excuse for a boyfriend," Santana replies. "Kicking him to the curb was the second smartest thing you've done."
"And the first?" Rachel asks, amused.
"Dating me, of course."
"Of course. But you're still cut off."
"You can't be serious. I talked to Quinn. It's not my fault it was after she'd talked to Mr. Schue."
"You shouldn't have started it in the first place," Rachel says.
"What? So you get to pull outlandish pranks at school and I can't even do a mini mind fuck on Quinn? How is that fair?"
"Because my pranks don't result in you being thought of negatively."
"Being lectured by Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury? Yeah, it sucks," Santana agrees. "And sure, having the others think badly of you sucks more. But I survived. You will too."
"Yes, but those confrontations with you weren't started by me."
"I made a mistake," Santana says. "I'm sorry. The next time I try to fuck with Q, I'll just tell her she's fat. Okay?"
"That seems mean," Rachel replies. "Couldn't you just shave her head?"
"How is that not mean?"
"I don't know. But I'd pay money to see it."
"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Santana asks.
"Yes. But I'm still annoyed."
"Okay then."
…
Knowing Quinn and Mr. Schuester talked to Coach Sylvester, Rachel isn't surprised when she and Santana are pulled into Coach's office by two freshmen Cheerios.
"I'm sure you both know why you're here," Coach says once they're seated.
They both nod.
"Normally, I wouldn't care. But when it results in surprise visits from my curly haired nemesis, it's time for me to become involved."
"Who would have guessed Mr. Schue would actually come to you for help," Rachel comments.
"I assume this was your doing," Coach says to Santana.
"Why me?"
"Because you were trying to fuck with Q. Why else?"
"Yeah, but--"
"And Berry wouldn't have started it. There's nothing for her to gain from it."
Rachel nods in agreement.
"It just got out of hand," Santana says. "I thought for sure Quinn would figure out that I was kidding."
"You should know that giving her another reason to hate on Berry will cloud her judgment," Coach replies. "She's gunning for her harder than I'm going after your joke of a Spanish teacher."
"I tried explaining to her that I was joking," Santana defends.
"But you haven't told anyone why you came in looking like you lost a fight," Coach says.
"It doesn't fit with my rep," Santana insists.
"Then why didn't you just lie and say Puckerman dragged you to his stupid fight club?"
Santana just stares as Rachel shakes her head.
"I suppose that would have made sense," Santana grumbles eventually.
"And you," Coach turns to Rachel. "I'm guessing the genius here asked you not to mention her weekend activities."
"She did indeed."
"Your loyalty is admirable."
"Thank you."
"But you're both still idiots."
Santana looks affronted. Rachel just nods.
"The problem is," Rachel begins. "It wasn't planned. If it had been decided before hand, we might have been able to formulate a plan."
"Hey, it just came to me," Santana defends. "I couldn't miss the opportunity. Besides, Q's been such a bear lately, she deserves it."
"Couldn't you have just glued her locker shut?" Rachel questions.
"That's more your style than mine."
"My way gets results," Rachel counters.
"Maybe I'm not looking for those kind of results."
"All right you two," Coach Sylvester interrupts. "Have your little lover's spat another time."
"Sorry Coach," they chime together.
"Good. Now we're going to nip this in the bud, so to speak. Though it's obviously gotten out of hand. Solutions?"
"I really only see one option," Rachel says. "Santana tells everyone she went with Puck to his fight club. And the reason she didn't want to tell anyone was that she was embarrassed that she lost."
"Santana Lopez doesn't lose."
"And we'll be sure to say he was six five, two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle.
"It might be too late for that," Santana admits.
"Then we'll deal with that hurdle when it appears," Rachel says.
"Start with that," Coach Sylvester tells them. "If that doesn't work, then I'll intervene."
"That sounds fair," Rachel says.
"Thanks Coach," Santana adds.
"You owe me, Lopez," Coach Sylvester replies. "Between the two of you, you should be able to better plan these things. Next time, strategize first."
"I will Coach," Santana says.
"Dismissed."
Both Rachel and Santana stand quickly and exit.
…
"Maybe we should have gone to Coach Sylvester sooner," Rachel says as they walk towards her locker.
"It just got out of hand very quickly," Santana replies.
"I know. And I can't blame you for wanting to mess with Quinn. I just wish you'd picked a better method."
"Next time, I'll plan ahead, all right?"
"Thank you."
"I'm gonna try to find Q before the bell," Santana says.
"See you at lunch?"
Santana nods before bending in for a kiss and running off before the whistles and hooting begin.
…
Santana finds Quinn at her locker.
"Fabray. We need to talk."
"Finally going to admit you need help?"
"Listen, I appreciate your concern. Really. But you're wrong about Rachel," Santana says.
"Prove it."
"I didn't want to tell you because I was embarrassed, okay?"
"That you're letting Berry hit you? That's understandable."
"Last weekend, Puck dragged me to his fight club," Santana says. "I did all right, but I lost the second fight I had."
"What?"
"He was huge, though. Taller than Finnocence and probably twice my weight," Santana continues.
"So your jaw, your cut lip and being sore, is from Puck's fight club?"
"Yeah."
"Jeez, Lopez," Quinn says, smacking her on the arm. "You lost to a guy twice your size? Who cares?"
"It matters to me," Santana replies, rubbing her arm.
"Yeah, well I was really worried about you, you bitch," Quinn continues. "I spent the whole week worried about you. For nothing?"
"It's nice to know you still care," Santana says.
"Whatever Lopez," Quinn replies. "You're on my list for the rest of the week."
"It's Friday," Santana points out.
"What about the tattoo?"
"What tattoo?"
"The one on you hip that proclaims you to be Berry's bitch," Quinn says.
"How do you know about that?"
"I saw it this week after practice. I've been watching you like a hawk," Quinn admits.
"Oh. Well what about it?"
"Berry didn't make you get it?"
"It was my idea to get the tattoos, the exact content was hers," Santana replies.
"Seriously?"
"We're both very jealous possessive people," Santana explains. "This seemed like the easiest solution."
"Really?"
"There might have been alcohol involved," Santana admits. "But I still stand by the decision."
"I'm sorry, S, but I just don't get you and Berry," Quinn says.
"No one does, but Britt. I don't even, sometimes," Santana admits. "But maybe you could try. For me."
"Fine. For you."
…
Meanwhile, Puck receives a text from Rachel. He hopes it's plans for tonight. It's been a while since they've had a crazy bro night.
Santana's telling people her injuries are from going to fight club with you. And that she didn't tell anyone because she was embarrassed she lost. Make sure you say the guy she fought was huge and muscular. Maybe say you're not even sure if YOU could have taken him.
He supposes that's one solution to the ridiculous problem Lopez created. He can get on board. Though he still doesn't understand why she cares if anyone knows she won a chess boxing match. Seems pretty fucking cool to him. But she asked and he complied. He figures he owes her for the other two fifty because he'd fully been expecting to only get back the entry fee. Lopez has her own insane agenda, and who is he to question it.
Will do, boss.
He slips his phone back in his pocket and strolls down the hall looking for some babes.
…
Second period, Rachel almost falls out of her seat in shock when Quinn actually apologizes for thinking she's a girlfriend beater. However, all she does externally is accept the apology. She knows anything else will damage their tenuous Chem lab partnership.
Though Rachel was surprised that the whole competition didn't ruin it already. But she finds as long as it never comes up, Quinn seems fine around her. Hopefully the same will be true of the abuse thing and they can just move on.
…
Rachel is conspicuously missing from the glee table at lunch. The others can see Quinn and Brittany at the Cheerios table, but Santana is nowhere to be found.
Without the presence of Rachel, the conversation turns to the abuse allegations.
"I don't think she is," Tina says.
"I don't know," Kurt replies. "There's a lot of evidence."
"Whether she is or she isn't," Mike says. "I'm impressed. Rachel Berry totally tamed Santana Lopez."
"How?" Finn asks.
"Santana's tattoo seems proof enough for me," Mike replies. "There's no way Santana would admit to being anyone's bitch."
"That's true," Kurt agrees. "It does imply power, or at least influence."
"Wow," Mercedes says. "I never would have pictured Rachel as a…"
"All this time we've been worried about Santana," Kurt says. "But I guess it was Rachel we should have been worried about."
"We still technically don't have proof guys," Tina interjects.
"Some days are weirder than others," Finn mutters loudly.
"So true," Mike agrees.
And then a shadow falls on their table. Everyone looks up to find Coach Sylvester looming over them.
"Listen up future Taco Bell® employees," she says. "I've been hearing some nasty rumors that need to be put to rest."
No one says anything.
"Your useless leader stopped by my office yesterday to tell me that the midget, Berry is the reason for Lopez's bruises this week. I had to laugh because that's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. And I once had a philosophical discussion with William Shatner."
"Yeah, but Quinn--"
"Shut it Frankenteen," Coach Sylvester snaps. "I already talked to Q and it's all straightened out. As if anyone could get the jump on Lopez, especially that little ball of energy. So I want you community college rejects to drop it and move on. Don't you have some sort of sappy romantic entanglement to worry about?"
"We were just concerned about Santana, Coach," Mercedes tries.
"And I'm sure if this was an after school special, we'd all be tearfully hugging right now. But there's nothing to worry about and even less to learn from this whole situation. I'm trusting this to be over with. If I have to hear or deal with any aspect of this ridiculousness ever again, you will all pay the consequences."
There's an almost audible gulp heard around the table.
"That is all," Coach Sylvester says. "Return to your pathetic existence." And she leaves, stalking towards the Cheerios' table to traumatize them.
…
At the end of the day, Rachel is retrieving the books she needs for the weekend. She's barely two weeks ahead with her school work and she wants to make a little headway this afternoon before Noah shows up for bro night.
"How'd you do it?"
Rachel turns to find Kurt and Mercedes behind her.
"Do what?" Rachel asks.
"We know you're not a girlfriend beater," Mercedes says. "And so we can't figure out how you got Santana fucking Lopez to tattoo Rachel Berry's Bitch on her hip."
"She's the one that wanted the tattoos."
"Yeah, but I bet she wasn't picturing that," Kurt replies.
"No, probably not."
"So?"
"I have my ways," Rachel replies.
"Oh god, you don't mean sex, do you?" Kurt groans.
"No, I don't mean sex," Rachel says. "Why do you guys care?"
"It's just not only did you beat Quinn the other week in those ridiculous competitions," Kurt explains. "But you also can make Santana do whatever you want."
"Yes. And?"
"So you're like the most powerful person in the school," Mercedes says. "I mean, the only person not under your thrall is Coach Sylvester."
Rachel smirks.
"I saw that," Kurt exclaims. "Are you saying you have power over Coach Sylvester too?"
"Not at all," Rachel replies. "But she does like me."
"You really are the most powerful person at McKinley," Kurt says in awe.
"You two are exaggerating," Rachel says.
"What would you call someone who controls the most influential people at this school?" Kurt asks.
"I don't know, Kurt," Rachel replies. "Besides, that's not really true. While I might have beat Quinn in one competition, she certainly won't be swayed by me to do one thing or another."
"Deny it all you want, Rachel," Mercedes says. "But we know now."
"Know what?"
"To stay out of your way," Kurt tells her.
"Uh…"
"Unless that's not what you want," Mercedes says hastily.
"Go home guys," Rachel says. "It's Friday. Enjoy your weekend."
"Whatever you say, Rachel," Mercedes replies.
"Have a nice weekend," Kurt adds.
They both back away, smiling a little too widely and Rachel can only shake her head at their antics. She waits until they're out of sight before she closes her locker with a sigh.
Walking to her car, Rachel wonders if she'll ever just be a person to those two. She getting tired of just being a representation in their mind. She wonders if that means they can never really be friends.
Santana would tell her to not even bother; that you can't get everyone to like you. And then she'd question why Rachel cares so much.
Rachel's starting to think her girlfriend is correct. She has Santana. She has Brittany and Noah. And even Coach Sylvester is on her side. It's certainly more than she's ever had. Maybe she should just be content and enjoy the comradely.
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Quinn, Brittany, Will, Emma, Sue, Figgins, New Directions
Rating: R
Summary: Santana wants to screw with Quinn. Unfortunately, it doesn't go as planned.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~13,100
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: There's mention of an abusive relationship. Nothing major, since there's little to no angst in this series, but just to be safe, possible trigger warning.
A/N: Technically starts before the end of It Went Swimmingly.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
Flow Charts Are Never Wrong | Revelations and Confrontations | Cuffed | Physics and Golf | The Student Becomes the Master | Breaking Into School is Easy to Do | Keeping Up Appearances | Games People Play | Ink and Gossip | Like That Movie, Open Water | Berry verses Lopez | Playing With Fire | Organized Chaos Abound | Best Served Cold | Rapiers at Dawn | It Went Swimmingly
Part Two
Despite knowing this whole beating thing isn't close to over, Rachel is trying to ignore it. She hopes she's wrong and that Santana has gotten through to Quinn. She's finding this whole thing very distracting and disturbing.
What really gets to Rachel though is the fact that once again Mr. Schuester doesn't believe in her, actually thinks she would do such a thing. Even though she gave up on her supposed mentor a while ago, it still hurts.
Rachel knows she's bossy, driven, conceited, intense, demanding and a bit self centered. But girlfriend beater she certainly is not. And it really hurts that anyone would believe it. Especially Mr. Schuester. Though maybe she shouldn't be surprised. He has continually let her down time and again.
She can't believe Quinn went to Mr. Schue of all people though. Rachel would have thought Quinn's instincts would have been to go to Coach Sylvester. Though, what Quinn really craves is a caring father figure to solve all her problems, so of course Mr. Schue fits that bill perfectly. Coach Sylvester is who you go to when you need something taken care of.
Maybe Rachel should go to Coach Sylvester. She'd certainly put the kibosh on this whole thing.
That will be Rachel's last resort. She's not using up her favor on this nonsense. That favor is way too valuable to just throw away like that. Maybe if Santana goes to her instead. She'll have to mention that to her girlfriend later.
…
"Thank you for coming, Santana," Emma says just as the lunch bell rings.
Santana just glares. This has gotten completely out of control. "I'm here under protest."
"Well, I certainly appreciate both your candor and you showing up, even if you didn't want to."
"Yippee," Santana mutters.
"I just wanted to touch base with you," Emma begins. "See how you're doing."
"Is this a new thing?"
"Excuse me?"
"Because you've never check in with me before," Santana continues. "Or are you just really slowly going through the whole school?"
"Mr. Schuester has some concerns," Emma explains. "And since you didn't want to talk to him about it, we both thought I might be a better choice."
"I'm fine."
"Your lip and your eye?"
"Aren't anything to be concerned about," Santana tells her.
"If someone's hurting you or threatening you, Santana, we can help you. I know it might seem like you're alone in all this, but you're not."
"No one's hurting or threatening me. Like I said, I'm fine."
"Then why won't you tell anyone what happened this weekend?"
"Because it's none of your business," Santana replies. "I'm fine."
"Okay. Okay."
"Can I go now?"
"Of course. But remember, if you ever need to talk, my door is always open."
Santana just stands and stalks out.
…
Once again, Rachel finds herself in Figgins' office.
"Well, Ms. Berry, I'm hoping you've come to the correct decision," he says.
"It's only been twenty-seven hours."
"That's plenty of time for an intelligent student as yourself to decide."
"If that's true, then my answer is, no thank you," Rachel replies.
"I see you need more time to think," Figgins says. "Very well. I hope you're taking everything into consideration as you make this decision."
"I'd really rather not do this."
"We'll touch base again later this week," Figgins continues.
"Right. May I go to lunch now?"
"Of course."
…
The end of lunch bell has just rung when Will knocks on Emma's door. She looks up and waves him in. He closes the door behind him.
"How'd it go?" he asks.
Emma sighs. "As well as I expected it to go. She says there's nothing wrong."
"But there is," Will insists.
"That may be true, Will," Emma says. "But if she denies it, there's very little else you can do."
"Until she gets seriously hurt or worse?"
"Will," Emma says. "Let me ask you. Do you really believe that Rachel would do such a thing? She and Santana seem to be great together. Is it possible that Quinn got something confused?"
"She's Santana best friend other than Brittany," Will replies. "She has to know her well enough to judge that sort of thing. Don't you think?"
"I suppose that's usually true," Emma agrees. "But in this case, are you really sure? I've sensed some… tension between them lately."
"I have too, but that doesn't diminish years of friendship."
"Things are different for high school girls, Will," Emma tells him.
"I know that."
"You can't apply your adult male logic," she continues.
"I know."
"Also, the logic of someone in an abusive relationship is different. You're still using your logic to approach things. It won't help you."
"Emma," Will says. "I know these kids. I'll admit I don't know Santana as well as some of the others, but that's more because she's a Cheerio than anything else." He nods. "Actually, I think I know exactly what will help."
"I'm afraid to ask."
"But before that, I was hoping you could maybe talk to Rachel."
"Will, I don't think that's such a good idea," Emma protests.
"Why not? You've talked to Rachel before. You seem to have a good rapport with her. Well, as much as anyone can. I think you might be able to get through to her."
Emma sighs again. "Fine." It's easier to agree than to keep arguing. "I'll talk to her tomorrow. But, Will I make no promises."
"Thanks Emma. I really appreciate it."
She nods.
And then he's gone, off to do more Will Schuester type things.
…
Rachel finds a note in her locker asking her to stop by Ms. Pillsbury's office. As if she doesn't know what that's about. She sighs; she might as well go because not going will make her look guilty.
She doesn't bother knocking, just enters and slides into a chair.
"I see you found my note," Ms. Pillsbury says.
"Look, you managed to pick the one day where I’m not extensively busy, so you get ten minutes," Rachel replies. "Nonetheless, I would appreciate it if you would cut to the chase." Rachel crosses her arms across her chest. "As if I don't know what this is about," she mutters.
This has apparently flustered Ms. Pillsbury, because she flutters a moment before speaking. "Yes, well, as you're aware, there have been some concerns about your relationship with Santana."
"And while we both appreciate the sudden and startling adult concern, it's not necessary," Rachel replies. "This all started because my damn girlfriend wanted to trick her best friend. And it's spiraled out of control."
"No one's accusing you of anything Rachel. But neither of you have provided an explanation for Santana's injuries."
"Nor should we have to," Rachel snaps. "There haven't been any other signs. One isolated incident does not concern make. Mr. Schue is simply latching onto something one of his favorites has said and is behaving like a dog with a bone."
"I'm sure Mr. Schuester doesn't have favorites," Ms. Pillsbury tries.
"If he doesn't have favorites, then I don't own any argyle."
"Rachel, I realize Mr. Schuester is harder on you than others, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care."
"Ms. Pillsbury," Rachel says. "I know he cares. However, he only cares because he has to as a teacher and because I am a talented singer. It's certainly not because he likes me as well as he does Finn or Quinn."
"It just seems that way because they went through so much last year," Ms. Pillsbury replies.
"Look, can we just move on from Mr. Schue?" Rachel asks. "Santana's injuries have a perfectly logical and reasonable explanation. However, she's not comfortable sharing them and therefore, she has asked me to keep silent. I, of course, have done so because she asked, despite my increasing ire over this absurd situation. I can promise you that she is not being threatened, hurt, beaten or abused that I know of."
"Rachel…"
"And I resent the fact that no one seems to believe me. Why is it in all the years I've attended this institution, you've never stood up for me when I was the target of scorn and ridicule. Nor did, Mr. Schue. This all feels like too little too late."
"Perhaps we should schedule another meeting," Ms. Pillsbury says. "You seem to be harboring some previously unseen anger that may need addressing."
"Please don't pyscho-analyze me, Ms. Pillsbury. It is unnecessary and I hesitate to acknowledge your qualifications."
"Rachel, just because you're upset, doesn't mean you need to be rude."
"I'm being tactless," Rachel replies. "There's a difference."
"Do you think if both you and Santana were to talk to me it would help?"
"There's nothing to discuss," Rachel tells her. "Santana and I are fine. Our relationship is fine and you have nothing to worry about. I don't know how many times I can repeat that before someone believes me."
"This is a safe environment, Rachel," Ms. Pillsbury continues as if Rachel hadn't spoken. "Nothing you say here will be judged or mocked."
"I'm not sure you know how to mock someone, Ms. Pillsbury," Rachel says. "You're too nice."
"Thank you?"
"I need to get going, so I'm going to do that," Rachel says, standing. "I thank you for your concern, no matter how unfounded. I also apologize, it seems I've let my indignation take over, which I'm not proud of. However, that being said, please drop this whole thing. It's unnecessary and a waste of time."
"Rachel, we're not done yet."
"I have somewhere I need to be," Rachel tells her. "Bye Ms. Pillsbury."
And before Ms. Pillsbury can say anything else, Rachel is gone.
…
That night, Brittany is woken up by her cell phone. She glances over and sees that it's three in the morning. Quickly, she grabs her phone, worried there's an emergency.
"Hello?"
"Britt, I'm sorry to call so late. Nothing's wrong."
"Hi Rach, that's okay. I was just sleeping."
"I imagine so," Rachel says. "Listen, are you up for pulling a quick small prank?"
"I just need to get dressed."
"Excellent," Rachel replies. "I'm waiting outside."
…
Thursday morning before school starts, Sue finds her office full of people she doesn't want in her office.
"Q," Sue begins. "What is the meaning of dragging Curly and Bambi in here?"
"I'm sorry Coach," Quinn says. "We have no one else to turn to."
"Is that true, William?" Sue asks with a smirk. "You actually need my help?"
"If this wasn't about a student, I wouldn't be here," Will snaps.
"Fine. Let's hear the problem that William Schuester can't solve."
Emma, knowing she has to separate Will and Sue as soon as possible, begins. "You've seen Santana's appearance this week? The, uh, injuries?"
"I have," Sue nods.
"Well, we have some concerns," Emma continues. "Quinn believes that Santana is being beaten."
Sue lets out a bark of laughter. "Who would dare? That bitch would just kick 'em in the balls."
"She probably does have balls," Quinn grumbles.
"Um, Quinn seems to think it's Rachel's doing, actually," Emma says.
This actually wipes the smirk off Sue's face. "Please repeat that."
"I think Berry has been beating on Santana," Quinn tells her.
Sue looks at Will. "And you agree with her assessment?"
He nods. "I do."
"Despite Berry's lack of violent nature?"
"We have other evidence," Will says.
"Such as?"
"We've all tried asking Santana where the injuries came from and she refuses to say. The same with Rachel. When we ask her, she clams up as well. And Quinn even tried asking Brittany, but it was confusing at best."
"So you're basing it on a cut lip and a refusal to ask questions?" Sue probes.
"Just think about it, Coach," Quinn says. "Santana's been weird ever since she started dating the midget. Add that and it totally makes sense."
Sue looks between Will and Emma for a moment and then to Quinn. Then back at Will. "My girl here just insulted your star loser and you're not going to say anything?"
"She's said worse," Will replies. "And that's not the issue."
"I'm finding this situation, very interesting," Sue says.
"We just thought you might be able to get through to Santana," Emma says. "She seems to resent our involvement."
"Imagine that."
"Please Coach," Quinn says. "I'm worried about S."
"I'm sure you are, Q." Sue eyes them all. "But I don't have time to talk about this. I have an important conference call happing in…" Sue looks at her watch. "Less than five minutes. Out of my office."
"Sue, you have to be concerned about this."
"I am, indeed, William. But like I said, I don't have time at the moment."
"Will, let's go," Emma says. "Sue will deal with it as she sees fit. We both know it."
"See? Uma here, knows."
Emma leaves first, followed by an agitated looking Will and finally a pleading Quinn.
…
That morning, the students of McKinley enter to find a neon orange six inch wide stripe painted on the floor. It's perfectly straight and just seems to keep going. A lot of people ignore it; but Finn doesn't need to be anywhere this particular second, so he follows it. Head down, staring, he does his best to not bump into too many people. Being tall is an advantage at the moment, because almost everyone sees him coming.
There are a few others walking with him, obviously curious as well. They're following him and the stripe, though not as diligently as he is. The longer it goes on, his paranoia grows. What if there's some cruel joke at the end of it? He knows Rachel did, but why? What could be at the end? Is he going to have something dropped on him?
The longer he follows it, the more Finn wonders why he's following it. The length makes him think that there's something horrible at the end. But he's already come this far and his curiosity is growing.
The ringing of the bell draws him out of his stripe following haze and he looks around at the students flooding into the hall. Checking his watch, he sees that he's spent first period following the stripe. How is it that he hasn't found the end yet?
"Finn," Kurt's voice cuts into his thoughts. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to figure out this stripe," Finn replies. "I just want to find the end."
"Uh, how long have you been following it?" Kurt asks.
"Since I got here. I can't believe how big this school is," Finn says. "I mean, I've been following it forever and I still haven't found the end."
Kurt shakes his head. He can't believe his step brother sometimes. "Finn, I hate to break it to you, but it doesn't end."
"It has to eventually," Finn insists. "Lines have beginnings and ends."
"They do," Kurt nods. "But circles don't."
"What?"
"The stripe circles the whole school and then comes back and meets up where it started."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah," Kurt says.
"So I've been following this stripe for nothing?"
"I guess."
"Great," Finn says. "That's really great." He stomps off angrily.
…
Kurt has been searching for Mercedes since before school started. He knows he could call her, but this is something that requires face time. He wouldn’t be able to properly discuss it over text, besides his first period teacher would have taken his phone. He's done it before.
Running into Finn is distracting, but amusing; though Kurt's not sure if Finn's mad at him for point it out or at himself for being so gullible.
Spotting Mercedes down the hall, Kurt pushes his way through the thongs of students until he reaches her.
"You will not believe what I overheard this morning," he tells her.
"What?"
Looking around the crowded hallway, Kurt decides this isn't the place to talk. "Come on."
…
"You're a real bitch, you know that, right," Finn says when he finds Rachel at her locker.
"I do," Rachel replies. "But what makes you say that today?"
"That orange stripe?"
"What about it?"
"I spent all first period trying to find the end. And then Kurt tells me that it's just a circle."
"Didn't you notice that you were walking by the same things over and over?" Rachel questions.
"I was looking at the stripe."
"Obviously," Rachel says, wryly. "But how does that relate to me being a bitch?"
"Because you did it," Fin hisses. "Prankster."
"You're allowed to believe what you like, Finn."
"How could you do that to me?" Finn asks.
"Not everything is about you, Finn." Rachel closes her locker. "I have to go to class."
Finn is left staring after her.
…
In the relative privacy of the choir room, Kurt sits, eager to share.
"So?"
"I was walking by Coach Sylvester's office this morning, after practice and I overheard Quinn, Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury tell Coach that Rachel is beating Santana."
"What?!"
"I know. But that's what they said."
"It has to be some kind of joke."
"Apparently not," Kurt replies. "Coach said she'd look into it."
"What does that mean?"
Kurt shrugs. "I don't think she's taking it as seriously as Quinn and Mr. Schue are."
"Do you think it's true?"
"I have no idea," Kurt replies. "But it has to be if Mr. Schue actually went to Coach for help. He hates her."
"True."
They sit in silence, absorbing the information.
"Do you think we should do something?" Mercedes asks.
"Like?"
"I don't know. We could try talking to Rachel about it."
"Is that such a good idea?" Kurt asks. "What if she reacts badly?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Mercedes answers. "Of course she's going to react badly. But we'll get a few of us together and we'll try talking to her about it. As long as we she knows we're only trying to help, it'll hopefully be okay."
"All right. When?"
…
"What the fuck, Fabray?" Puck growls when Quinn finally lets go of his shirt.
He'd been at his locker when the blonde had swept by and dragged him into an empty classroom.
"We need to talk."
"Obviously." About what?"
"Berry. And Santana."
"Yeah? And?"
"Why haven't you done anything to stop it?" Quinn asks.
"Stop what?"
"The abuse."
"Who's getting beat up?" Puck questions.
"Santana. Rachel's using Santana as a punching bag."
Puck starts laughing.
Quinn slugs him in the arm. "It's definitely not funny, Puckerman."
"It is. It's hilarious that you think Rachel is beating Santana."
"What else am I supposed to think?" Quinn asks. "She shows up Monday looking like she was in a fight and won't tell anyone what happened."
"Maybe it's none of your damn business, Quinn."
"I'm worried about her."
"Why is Rachel naturally the bad guy?" Puck asks. "Maybe Lopez and I got into it this weekend?"
"Ha! Then you'd be the one limping around, not her."
"Oh. So Santana can take me, but not Rachel?"
"That's different."
"Have you shared this theory with Santana?" Puck asks.
"I have," Quinn nods.
"I take it, it didn't go well?"
"It didn't."
"Denied it?"
Quinn nods.
"But you can't let it go?"
"I'm worried about her," Quinn says.
"Rachel would never do anything like that," Puck tells her.
"Then why won't they tell me what happened this weekend?"
"Them? You talked to Rachel too?"
Quinn nods again.
"Bet that went well."
Quinn shakes her head.
"You shouldn't have done that," Puck says. "What do you have against Rachel?"
"I'm worried about Santana," Quinn defends. "She's my best friend--at least she was before Berry stepped in."
"She still would be, if you'd just be nicer to Rach."
"Gotta protect your bro, huh," Quinn mocks. "You're such an asshole."
"Yeah I am," Puck replies. "But not because of that, Fabray. Do you really think that if my girl was a wife beater, we'd be bros? Hell no."
"Well that makes me feel better," Quinn says, voice full of sarcasm.
"It should," Puck insists. "The Puckster has standards, after all."
"Barely."
"Whatever. Are we done here?"
"Why? It's not like you go to class," Quinn says.
"Well, I'm definitely not going to just stand here and let you rip on my bro. And since you obviously don't believe me, we're kinda at an impasse."
"Jeez, is there anyone that Berry hasn't infected?"
"I'm out of here. Later, Fabray." Puck stalks out, leaving Quinn alone in the empty classroom.
…
Brittany's pleased with the results of the stripe. More people have fallen for it than she thought would. And for longer than she thought.
Then there's Finn Hudson. He spent all of third complaining about how much time he wasted following it. Apparently he circled the school three and a half times before Kurt pointed it out to him. Brittany is barely able to keep her laughter in. Luckily he's too pissed to notice the huge grin on her face.
…
Rachel realizes that pulling another prank actually made her situation with Figgins worse. At the time, she didn't care. She'd been so irritated that it hadn't crossed her mind. But sitting in his office during lunch, she regrets her hastiness.
"…must have heard something," he says.
"People are either speculating on why it was done or laughing at their friends who fall for it," Rachel replies. "That's it."
"I still can't find any physical evidence of anyone. I just don't understand how it's possible for no physical signs as well as no rumors or gossip about it."
"I'm sure there's gossip," Rachel says. "Though it's mostly speculation, I think."
"Well let's hear it."
"I'd rather not."
"I just need something, anything to go on," Figgins says.
"I'm not going to implicate someone off of rumors," Rachel replies.
"It's not an implication," Figgins tells her. "It'll simply bring up the name or names of someone who needs to have an eye kept on them."
"Like what happened with me? When you read in some blog that I'm the culprit? Because that interrogation was certainly fair."
"That was a unique situation that got slightly out of hand. I admit I handled it badly."
"Please stop asking me, Principal Figgins," Rachel says. "I can't tell you anything, must less what you want to know."
They stare at each other over the desk. Figgins blinks first.
"Fine. Thank you for your time, Ms. Berry," he says. "You're dismissed. However, I do not consider these circumstances dealt with. We will be revisiting them."
"It'll be a waste of time," Rachel says, standing.
"Enjoy your lunch, Ms. Berry."
Rachel nods once and walks out.
…
Kurt feels quite fortunate that Rachel isn't at lunch. This gives him and Mercedes the perfect opportunity to plan an intervention. He figures it can happen before glee, since Rachel's always early.
He looks around the table, picking and choosing who should be there and who would make things worse. He's pretty sure Puck would be on Rachel's side. Brittany is a toss up. As Santana's best friend, she would want to protect Santana, but she's also friends with Rachel. Finn would definitely make things worse. Tina's voice of reason would be welcomed; and she gets along with Rachel. As does Artie. Mike's always good for moral support.
So he just needs to keep Finn and Puck away and things should go smoothly. Now he just needs to figure out how to make it happen.
…
Rachel spends her remaining lunch time in the choir room. However, not wanting to interact with anyone she sits in the corner, out of sight of the door, behind chairs and instruments. She feels rather juvenile doing so, but her need to be alone supersedes it.
She knew pulling a prank would only result in her being dragged into Figgins' office, but she'd let her frustration override the logical part of her brain. It's something that's been happening a lot more lately. She blames her girlfriend.
The problem is she just wants to pull another prank; which will, of course, just make her problem worse.
So instead, she brainstorms how she's going to convince Mr. Schue and Quinn that she does not in fact beat her girlfriend.
Twenty minutes later when the end of lunch bell rings, she has no solutions.
…
When Rachel walks into the choir room, she knows something she doesn't want to deal with is about to happen. It's written all over Kurt and Mercedes' face. It's probably the fake grins plastered on their faces.
"Hey guys," Rachel says.
"Rachel," Kurt replies. "We're glad you're here. There's something we wanted to talk to you about."
"All of you?" Rachel asks. Because it's odd that so many people actually beat her here. Looking around, the only people missing are Quinn, Puck, Finn and Santana.
"Yes, all of us."
"Okay."
"I, uh, overheard something rather unpleasant this morning," Kurt begins. "And after discussing it with Mercedes, we decided we want to help."
Rachel just nods, waiting.
"Apparently Quinn, Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury think you're the reason for Santana looking like she lost a fight this weekend."
Rachel groans. It really isn't her week.
"Now," Kurt continues, hastily, taking Rachel's aggravation for something else. "We're not trying to jump to conclusions. We swear. But we do have some concerns. And we figured the best way to deal with this is to just confront them head on."
"Of course," Rachel says, sarcastically.
"And so we thought we'd approach you and get your side of the story."
"My side of the story?" Rachel questions. "That makes it sound like I did something wrong."
"Nobody's saying that," Mercedes says. "We just want to get your input on this situation."
"I'm not sure what you want me to say," Rachel replies. "It's not true. Though no one seems to believe that."
"Then why won't you tell us what really happened this weekend?" Kurt asks.
"No."
No one knows how to respond to that.
"Good. Now that that's settled," Rachel says. "May I warm up now?"
"You can't simply refuse and not expect us to react," Mercedes says.
"But no one did react," Rachel points out.
"Rachel," Tina tries. "I'm not saying you did it. Trust me. Just tell them and then we can move on."
"Look guys. I'm sure Santana appreciates the support, but I didn't hit her. I've never hit her. She's fine."
"Your reluctance to talk about this weekend is troubling me," Artie comments.
"Definitely. Right?" Kurt adds.
Rachel sighs. "I hate this week," she mutters.
"You guys are nuts," Brittany pipes up. "Rach would never hit Santana."
"Then what happened this weekend?" Mercedes asks.
Brittany just shrugs.
"That, unfortunately, is not comforting," Artie says.
"It's not?" Brittany asks.
"No."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Anyway," Kurt says. "We're back to square one."
"You guys really think I'm a girlfriend beater?" Rachel questions.
"We don't know," Mercedes answers. "That's why we're asking."
"You all think that?"
No one says anything.
"Tina? Really?" Rachel continues.
"I don't know what to think Rachel," Tina replies.
"Artie?"
"I'm here for support and to find out what exactly is going on," Artie tells her.
"Mike?"
"Kurt said he needed moral support," Mike replies. "But I don't know what to think."
"And Brittany's here because?"
"I want to be."
The choir room door swings open and Quinn strolls in.
"What's going on?"
"Is there anyone you haven't told that I'm a girlfriend beater, Quinn?" Rachel asks.
"What? No. I haven't--what?"
"We were just discussing what happened this weekend," Kurt explains. "I overheard something rather unpleasant this morning after practice and we're just trying to get to the bottom of it."
Quinn has the decency to look embarrassed. "Heard that, did you?"
"I happened to be walking by," Kurt tells her. "Besides, why are you embarrassed? You're worried about Santana. That's nice."
Rachel snorts.
"It is," Kurt says, glaring at Rachel.
"Quinn and nice don't belong in the same paragraph," Rachel mutters.
"Has she admitted it yet?" Quinn asks.
"No," Rachel says. "Because there's nothing to admit."
"Says you," Quinn shoots back.
"It's the truth," Rachel insists.
Quinn and Rachel are now standing toe to toe, eyes locked in a hateful glare.
"Okay then," Quinn says. "Answer this for me. Did you make Santana get a tattoo?"
"What if I did?"
"A tattoo that says, Rachel Berry's Bitch?"
Some gasps. Rachel thinks it's Kurt, but she can't be sure with her eyes still locked with Quinn's.
"Holy shit," Mercedes mutters.
"Maybe there's more validity to this than I thought," Artie whispers to Tina and Mike.
Mike nods.
"Yes," Rachel confirms. "And?"
"I think that's all the evidence we need," Quinn announces.
"That tattoo proves nothing," Rachel tells her. "I have one that's just as possessive."
"Which you got to counter hers," Quinn replies. "Whose idea were the tattoos?"
"You mean who came up with the design?" Rachel asks.
"Yeah."
Rachel sighs. This is going to seal it for Quinn. "I did."
"See?" Quinn is triumphant.
"How do you know the whole thing wasn't Santana's idea? And then I just made it more succinct?"
Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Mike and Artie look back at Brittany to see if she's confused by the use of 'succinct', but she doesn't seem to be. They all face forward, mildly confused.
"Oh please," Quinn says. "Santana might have mentioned getting tattoos, but I'm pretty sure you made it happen."
"Actually Puck is the one that found the tattoo artist," Brittany interrupts.
"Yeah, but who asked him to?" Quinn questioned.
"I didn't ask him," Rachel replies. "We were discussing it and he said he knew someone. I simply requested Santana's presence."
"Yeah, but did you ask her about what it was going to be or did you just tell her?" Quinn pushes.
"She's the one that wanted tattoos," Rachel says. "It was her possessive streak that was pushing."
"And yet hers is the most possessive thing I've ever seen."
"Mine doesn't exactly declare me a free agent," Rachel points out. "Why didn't I just make her get one?"
"To fool us," Quinn counters. "When we all found out about your tattoo, never once did you mention hers."
"So? I was worried you'd make fun of her."
"Or you knew I'd see what it really means."
The girls go back to glaring at each other.
"This isn't getting us anywhere," Mike comments.
"We're never going to figure this out," Kurt adds.
"I think we're losing sight of the real issue here," Brittany says.
"What's that?" Tina asks.
"It seems to me that we're experiencing a real quandary."
Everyone, but Rachel stares at Brittany. Quinn and Kurt's jaws actually drop.
"I mean," Brittany continues. "Rachel's going to continue denying it and you guys are going to keep not believing her. The only way out is for Rach to lie and say she did do it, but then that leads to another kind of dilemma."
"I agree," Rachel says. "We're at an impasse."
"So we do nothing?" Kurt asks.
"We need to figure out a sure fire way to determine who's telling the truth," Brittany suggests.
"Like what?" Mercedes asks.
Everyone takes a moment to think that over.
The choir room door opens and Mr. Schuester walks in with Santana, Puck and Finn trailing behind him.
"Uh, hi guys," Mr. Schue says. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Rachel replies. "We're simply waiting for glee to start."
He looks around the room. Quinn and Rachel are still facing off. Brittany is in the back row looking bored. Artie, Tina and Mike are sitting in the front row watching while Kurt and Mercedes are hovering around Quinn and Rachel.
"Okay…"
"I think it'd be prudent if we started," Rachel says. "Don't you, Mr. Schue?
"I suppose so. Why you all have a seat and we'll just jump right in."
…
Glee is as close to being a disaster it can be without Rachel storming out, Finn hurting anyone while dancing, Kurt complaining or any sort of singing competition. For that, Will is grateful. However, the tension in the room is so thick, he's choking on it. His ability to sing is actually being suppressed by all the anxiety and aggravation in the room.
He wonders what he missed. It's obvious something happened before practice started, but he's afraid to ask. He wonders if that makes him a coward.
…
Santana's surprised when Mercedes holds her back after practice. They've never really gotten along or even interacted.
"Listen, girl," she begins. "I know it might not be my place, but I still gotta say it. If you ever need a place to crash or hide out, you know where to find me."
"All right…"
"I just meant that if maybe you were afraid of being found or needed to get away from everything and everyone, I don’t mind if you stop by."
"I'll keep that in mind," Santana says, hesitantly.
"It's just I've heard… things. And I wanted you to know I'm in your corner. We all are."
"Thanks. But I'm fine."
"I'm not saying you're not," Mercedes quickly replies. "I'm just saying if it ever gets not fine, I'm here."
"Right. Okay. Well, I'm gonna go. Don't want to keep Rach waiting."
"Definitely. Definitely don't want to keep her waiting or get her mad."
"See you tomorrow," Santana says. She then quickly exits, shooting an odd look over her shoulder.
…
"Do you think that was enough?" Mercedes asks Kurt.
They're going back to his place to study and hang out.
Kurt glances over as he drives. "It's all we can do really, right? I mean, Mr. Schue is involved. And Coach Sylvester. Surely they're better equipped to deal with this, right?"
"I guess. I just feel like we should be doing more."
"Isn't that always true?" Kurt muses.
They drive in silence for a whole minute before Mercedes says, "Can you believe Santana has a tattoo proclaiming herself as Rachel's bitch?"
"I know, right? I don't know what's more surprising, that or Brittany's use of the word quandary."
"We should have just skipped glee and kept talking. Imagine what else we would have learned," Mercedes replies.
"I'm not sure how many more deep dark secrets I can take," Kurt tells her. "What if we find out Mr. Schue performs It's Raining Men on the weekend in Cleveland as the drag queen, Luscious Lucinda?"
"Ahhh! Why would you think that?" Mercedes asks. "Now I'm going to have nightmares tonight."
…
Santana knows Rachel's pissed at her. Her girlfriend hasn't spoken since they got into the car. Santana doesn't know why, though. She does know it's only a matter of time before Rachel lets her know.
However, it isn't until they're in Rachel's bedroom that she says anything
"Well, I hope you're happy. Everyone things I'm a wife beater."
"If we're married, then you owe me a ring."
"You know what I mean," Rachel snaps.
"Who knew Quinn would get Mr. Schue involved," Santana muses.
"Yes, well, I'm glad you're amused."
"It's nice not being the bad guy for once," Santana comments. "That's what's bugging you, isn't it?"
"What?"
"You don't want them to think badly of you. You like being thought of as innocent."
"Maybe a little," Rachel admits. "It helps with the Prankster thing. And it feels nice to know people care."
"It really does," Santana agrees.
"It's just unfortunate that one of us has to be the bad guy for that to happen."
"Yeah. Maybe next time we can pretend Hudson beat us up," Santana suggests.
"I wish that didn't appeal to me so much," Rachel says.
"He's a lying, pathetic, weak excuse for a boyfriend," Santana replies. "Kicking him to the curb was the second smartest thing you've done."
"And the first?" Rachel asks, amused.
"Dating me, of course."
"Of course. But you're still cut off."
"You can't be serious. I talked to Quinn. It's not my fault it was after she'd talked to Mr. Schue."
"You shouldn't have started it in the first place," Rachel says.
"What? So you get to pull outlandish pranks at school and I can't even do a mini mind fuck on Quinn? How is that fair?"
"Because my pranks don't result in you being thought of negatively."
"Being lectured by Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury? Yeah, it sucks," Santana agrees. "And sure, having the others think badly of you sucks more. But I survived. You will too."
"Yes, but those confrontations with you weren't started by me."
"I made a mistake," Santana says. "I'm sorry. The next time I try to fuck with Q, I'll just tell her she's fat. Okay?"
"That seems mean," Rachel replies. "Couldn't you just shave her head?"
"How is that not mean?"
"I don't know. But I'd pay money to see it."
"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Santana asks.
"Yes. But I'm still annoyed."
"Okay then."
…
Knowing Quinn and Mr. Schuester talked to Coach Sylvester, Rachel isn't surprised when she and Santana are pulled into Coach's office by two freshmen Cheerios.
"I'm sure you both know why you're here," Coach says once they're seated.
They both nod.
"Normally, I wouldn't care. But when it results in surprise visits from my curly haired nemesis, it's time for me to become involved."
"Who would have guessed Mr. Schue would actually come to you for help," Rachel comments.
"I assume this was your doing," Coach says to Santana.
"Why me?"
"Because you were trying to fuck with Q. Why else?"
"Yeah, but--"
"And Berry wouldn't have started it. There's nothing for her to gain from it."
Rachel nods in agreement.
"It just got out of hand," Santana says. "I thought for sure Quinn would figure out that I was kidding."
"You should know that giving her another reason to hate on Berry will cloud her judgment," Coach replies. "She's gunning for her harder than I'm going after your joke of a Spanish teacher."
"I tried explaining to her that I was joking," Santana defends.
"But you haven't told anyone why you came in looking like you lost a fight," Coach says.
"It doesn't fit with my rep," Santana insists.
"Then why didn't you just lie and say Puckerman dragged you to his stupid fight club?"
Santana just stares as Rachel shakes her head.
"I suppose that would have made sense," Santana grumbles eventually.
"And you," Coach turns to Rachel. "I'm guessing the genius here asked you not to mention her weekend activities."
"She did indeed."
"Your loyalty is admirable."
"Thank you."
"But you're both still idiots."
Santana looks affronted. Rachel just nods.
"The problem is," Rachel begins. "It wasn't planned. If it had been decided before hand, we might have been able to formulate a plan."
"Hey, it just came to me," Santana defends. "I couldn't miss the opportunity. Besides, Q's been such a bear lately, she deserves it."
"Couldn't you have just glued her locker shut?" Rachel questions.
"That's more your style than mine."
"My way gets results," Rachel counters.
"Maybe I'm not looking for those kind of results."
"All right you two," Coach Sylvester interrupts. "Have your little lover's spat another time."
"Sorry Coach," they chime together.
"Good. Now we're going to nip this in the bud, so to speak. Though it's obviously gotten out of hand. Solutions?"
"I really only see one option," Rachel says. "Santana tells everyone she went with Puck to his fight club. And the reason she didn't want to tell anyone was that she was embarrassed that she lost."
"Santana Lopez doesn't lose."
"And we'll be sure to say he was six five, two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle.
"It might be too late for that," Santana admits.
"Then we'll deal with that hurdle when it appears," Rachel says.
"Start with that," Coach Sylvester tells them. "If that doesn't work, then I'll intervene."
"That sounds fair," Rachel says.
"Thanks Coach," Santana adds.
"You owe me, Lopez," Coach Sylvester replies. "Between the two of you, you should be able to better plan these things. Next time, strategize first."
"I will Coach," Santana says.
"Dismissed."
Both Rachel and Santana stand quickly and exit.
…
"Maybe we should have gone to Coach Sylvester sooner," Rachel says as they walk towards her locker.
"It just got out of hand very quickly," Santana replies.
"I know. And I can't blame you for wanting to mess with Quinn. I just wish you'd picked a better method."
"Next time, I'll plan ahead, all right?"
"Thank you."
"I'm gonna try to find Q before the bell," Santana says.
"See you at lunch?"
Santana nods before bending in for a kiss and running off before the whistles and hooting begin.
…
Santana finds Quinn at her locker.
"Fabray. We need to talk."
"Finally going to admit you need help?"
"Listen, I appreciate your concern. Really. But you're wrong about Rachel," Santana says.
"Prove it."
"I didn't want to tell you because I was embarrassed, okay?"
"That you're letting Berry hit you? That's understandable."
"Last weekend, Puck dragged me to his fight club," Santana says. "I did all right, but I lost the second fight I had."
"What?"
"He was huge, though. Taller than Finnocence and probably twice my weight," Santana continues.
"So your jaw, your cut lip and being sore, is from Puck's fight club?"
"Yeah."
"Jeez, Lopez," Quinn says, smacking her on the arm. "You lost to a guy twice your size? Who cares?"
"It matters to me," Santana replies, rubbing her arm.
"Yeah, well I was really worried about you, you bitch," Quinn continues. "I spent the whole week worried about you. For nothing?"
"It's nice to know you still care," Santana says.
"Whatever Lopez," Quinn replies. "You're on my list for the rest of the week."
"It's Friday," Santana points out.
"What about the tattoo?"
"What tattoo?"
"The one on you hip that proclaims you to be Berry's bitch," Quinn says.
"How do you know about that?"
"I saw it this week after practice. I've been watching you like a hawk," Quinn admits.
"Oh. Well what about it?"
"Berry didn't make you get it?"
"It was my idea to get the tattoos, the exact content was hers," Santana replies.
"Seriously?"
"We're both very jealous possessive people," Santana explains. "This seemed like the easiest solution."
"Really?"
"There might have been alcohol involved," Santana admits. "But I still stand by the decision."
"I'm sorry, S, but I just don't get you and Berry," Quinn says.
"No one does, but Britt. I don't even, sometimes," Santana admits. "But maybe you could try. For me."
"Fine. For you."
…
Meanwhile, Puck receives a text from Rachel. He hopes it's plans for tonight. It's been a while since they've had a crazy bro night.
Santana's telling people her injuries are from going to fight club with you. And that she didn't tell anyone because she was embarrassed she lost. Make sure you say the guy she fought was huge and muscular. Maybe say you're not even sure if YOU could have taken him.
He supposes that's one solution to the ridiculous problem Lopez created. He can get on board. Though he still doesn't understand why she cares if anyone knows she won a chess boxing match. Seems pretty fucking cool to him. But she asked and he complied. He figures he owes her for the other two fifty because he'd fully been expecting to only get back the entry fee. Lopez has her own insane agenda, and who is he to question it.
Will do, boss.
He slips his phone back in his pocket and strolls down the hall looking for some babes.
…
Second period, Rachel almost falls out of her seat in shock when Quinn actually apologizes for thinking she's a girlfriend beater. However, all she does externally is accept the apology. She knows anything else will damage their tenuous Chem lab partnership.
Though Rachel was surprised that the whole competition didn't ruin it already. But she finds as long as it never comes up, Quinn seems fine around her. Hopefully the same will be true of the abuse thing and they can just move on.
…
Rachel is conspicuously missing from the glee table at lunch. The others can see Quinn and Brittany at the Cheerios table, but Santana is nowhere to be found.
Without the presence of Rachel, the conversation turns to the abuse allegations.
"I don't think she is," Tina says.
"I don't know," Kurt replies. "There's a lot of evidence."
"Whether she is or she isn't," Mike says. "I'm impressed. Rachel Berry totally tamed Santana Lopez."
"How?" Finn asks.
"Santana's tattoo seems proof enough for me," Mike replies. "There's no way Santana would admit to being anyone's bitch."
"That's true," Kurt agrees. "It does imply power, or at least influence."
"Wow," Mercedes says. "I never would have pictured Rachel as a…"
"All this time we've been worried about Santana," Kurt says. "But I guess it was Rachel we should have been worried about."
"We still technically don't have proof guys," Tina interjects.
"Some days are weirder than others," Finn mutters loudly.
"So true," Mike agrees.
And then a shadow falls on their table. Everyone looks up to find Coach Sylvester looming over them.
"Listen up future Taco Bell® employees," she says. "I've been hearing some nasty rumors that need to be put to rest."
No one says anything.
"Your useless leader stopped by my office yesterday to tell me that the midget, Berry is the reason for Lopez's bruises this week. I had to laugh because that's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. And I once had a philosophical discussion with William Shatner."
"Yeah, but Quinn--"
"Shut it Frankenteen," Coach Sylvester snaps. "I already talked to Q and it's all straightened out. As if anyone could get the jump on Lopez, especially that little ball of energy. So I want you community college rejects to drop it and move on. Don't you have some sort of sappy romantic entanglement to worry about?"
"We were just concerned about Santana, Coach," Mercedes tries.
"And I'm sure if this was an after school special, we'd all be tearfully hugging right now. But there's nothing to worry about and even less to learn from this whole situation. I'm trusting this to be over with. If I have to hear or deal with any aspect of this ridiculousness ever again, you will all pay the consequences."
There's an almost audible gulp heard around the table.
"That is all," Coach Sylvester says. "Return to your pathetic existence." And she leaves, stalking towards the Cheerios' table to traumatize them.
…
At the end of the day, Rachel is retrieving the books she needs for the weekend. She's barely two weeks ahead with her school work and she wants to make a little headway this afternoon before Noah shows up for bro night.
"How'd you do it?"
Rachel turns to find Kurt and Mercedes behind her.
"Do what?" Rachel asks.
"We know you're not a girlfriend beater," Mercedes says. "And so we can't figure out how you got Santana fucking Lopez to tattoo Rachel Berry's Bitch on her hip."
"She's the one that wanted the tattoos."
"Yeah, but I bet she wasn't picturing that," Kurt replies.
"No, probably not."
"So?"
"I have my ways," Rachel replies.
"Oh god, you don't mean sex, do you?" Kurt groans.
"No, I don't mean sex," Rachel says. "Why do you guys care?"
"It's just not only did you beat Quinn the other week in those ridiculous competitions," Kurt explains. "But you also can make Santana do whatever you want."
"Yes. And?"
"So you're like the most powerful person in the school," Mercedes says. "I mean, the only person not under your thrall is Coach Sylvester."
Rachel smirks.
"I saw that," Kurt exclaims. "Are you saying you have power over Coach Sylvester too?"
"Not at all," Rachel replies. "But she does like me."
"You really are the most powerful person at McKinley," Kurt says in awe.
"You two are exaggerating," Rachel says.
"What would you call someone who controls the most influential people at this school?" Kurt asks.
"I don't know, Kurt," Rachel replies. "Besides, that's not really true. While I might have beat Quinn in one competition, she certainly won't be swayed by me to do one thing or another."
"Deny it all you want, Rachel," Mercedes says. "But we know now."
"Know what?"
"To stay out of your way," Kurt tells her.
"Uh…"
"Unless that's not what you want," Mercedes says hastily.
"Go home guys," Rachel says. "It's Friday. Enjoy your weekend."
"Whatever you say, Rachel," Mercedes replies.
"Have a nice weekend," Kurt adds.
They both back away, smiling a little too widely and Rachel can only shake her head at their antics. She waits until they're out of sight before she closes her locker with a sigh.
Walking to her car, Rachel wonders if she'll ever just be a person to those two. She getting tired of just being a representation in their mind. She wonders if that means they can never really be friends.
Santana would tell her to not even bother; that you can't get everyone to like you. And then she'd question why Rachel cares so much.
Rachel's starting to think her girlfriend is correct. She has Santana. She has Brittany and Noah. And even Coach Sylvester is on her side. It's certainly more than she's ever had. Maybe she should just be content and enjoy the comradely.