fic: That Went Well
Title: That Went Well
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
Santana's face looks somewhat better on Monday morning, but there's still a black eye and bruised jaw to cover up. Once she's done, only the cuts on her lips are visible. She figures she can blame it on some badassery that supposedly happened over the weekend.
Besides, she's Santana fucking Lopez. She doesn't owe anyone an explanation.
Driving to the Berrys' to give Rachel a ride, Santana is on top of the world, still floating from her victory Friday night. And then Rachel's reaction had led to an epic marathon of sex Saturday night. It's one of the better weekends in memory.
…
"Damn Lopez." Quinn's voice is full of mocking. "Berry finally started getting violent, I see."
If there's one thing that could ruin her high, it would be Quinn Fabray. Pulling things out of her locker, Santana decides not to give in, but instead, fuck with her.
"Shut up, Fabray," Santana grouses. "You wouldn't understand."
It's obviously not the response Quinn was seeking, because she can only gape. "What?"
"Never mind. I gotta go." Santana scampers off, leaving Quinn staring after her.
…
Quinn spends first period deep in thought, ignoring the teacher. She'd only been joking earlier, but Santana's reaction… It would explain a lot; the change of behavior in both of them, the arrogance that Rachel seems to now sport, why Santana pulled away.
She didn't think it possible, but apparently it's true. Rachel Berry is beating Santana Lopez.
God, even thinking that is so absurd. Quinn chuckles to herself at the thought. There's no way. RuPaul could never get the drop on Santana. Nor would Santana allow that to happen. Surely, the girl was just screwing with her.
On a whim, she texts Brittany. Wht hppnd 2 S face?
She receives a response a few minutes later. Violence.
Wait. What? Wht does THAT mean?
This time the response takes longer.
Nothing happnd.
Quinn just stares at her phone. How is she supposed to interpret that? She tries texting Brittany for the rest of the period, but gets no response.
…
Rachel knows she can easily get all the animals out with no trouble. However, it will be quite time consuming. She decides to try a different approach.
Pulling out her cell phone, Rachel skims through her contacts until she comes upon a rarely used number.
"Tommy? It's Rachel. Yeah, Leroy's daughter. Fine. Fine. Couldn't say. That it is. Listen, could you possibly do me a favor? Well, it seems someone thought it'd be funny to put a bunch of animals inside McKinley. Yes, the high school. I don't know why. Do you think maybe you, Ron and Billy could come get them out and release them for me? Because I don't want to miss my classes. They won't be as careful. I don't care. Please. Because I asked. It is good enough. Fine. You owe me. Yes, you do. That's right. Eleven. I do realize. Thanks. Hi to Ron and Billy. Yes. Thanks. Bye."
One less thing to worry about. She knows she can trust the Saunders brothers to safely remove the animals. After all, it's from them that she learned.
Feeling buoyant, Rachel walks to the front of McKinley to wait for the brothers, so she can direct them towards the pool and the closest door.
…
Sitting in second period, Quinn analyzes, watching Berry in her peripheral. Nothing seems different, but the most she mulls it over, the more plausible the abuse seems.
When the bell rings, Quinn decides to try and get answers another way.
"Berry."
"Quinn."
"What'd you do this weekend? Because Santana's being tight lipped about it."
"Nothing in particular," Rachel replies. "If Santana doesn't want to tell you, that's her business."
"She's your girlfriend."
"That's really not a compelling argument, Quinn," Rachel tells her. "Besides, why do you care?"
"Because she won't tell me."
"I'm sure she has her reasons," Rachel says. "I try to stay out of such things. I'm sure if you exercise a little patience, she'll tell you soon."
"I'm concerned."
"I'm sure she appreciates that."
"I'm concerned," Quinn tries again. "That maybe the reason behind her cut lip isn't simply an accident."
"I wasn't there," Rachel replies. "So I can't say."
"You're very good at sticking to your story," Quinn says.
"You mean, the truth?"
"Something happened to S this weekend, Berry," Quinn growls. "And if I find out that you had anything to do with it--"
"I hate to cut this discussion short, but I really must go if I don't want to be late for third period. Bye Quinn."
And once again, Quinn is left staring.
…
Santana is summoned by Coach Sylvester at the end of second period.
"What the hell happened to your face, S?"
"Uh…"
"And I'll know if you're lying."
"Wasn't going to," Santana replies sullenly. "Won a boxing match this weekend."
"Did you now?"
Santana nods.
"Fine. Dismissed."
…
Quinn spend the rest of the morning trying to either get information from Brittany or get a straight answer from Santana. She's unsuccessful in both endeavors. It's almost as if they're avoiding her. It just further feeds her theory.
…
Santana is eating lunch with Britt and some other Cheerios when Rachel stomps over and says, "Santana, dear, may I have a moment of your time? Now!" And then stalks off, obviously expecting Santana to follow.
She finds Rachel stewing in the choir room. She steps carefully inside and closes the door behind her.
Rachel looks up as the door clicks shut and Santana can see fire in her eyes.
"Santana Lopez," Rachel begins. "Did you tell Quinn that I beat you?"
Santana just smirks.
"Why would you do that?"
"To fuck with her," Santana replies. "Why else?"
"And you're okay having people think your badass self is getting beating up by ManHands?"
"Don't call yourself that."
"Well?" Rachel is now tapping her foot impatiently.
"It's just Q," Santana retorts. "She won't tell anyone of merit. She'll be too worried about your reaction."
"But surely your years of friendship would compel her to help," Rachel points out.
"It's hard to tell with Quinn, actually, babe. Besides, she'll probably figure it out and then be pissed at me."
"Well, I hope it's soon," Rachel says. "Her inquiries are getting quite tiresome."
"You do realize your demand that I follow you, didn't exactly help," Santana points out.
"Yes, well, I got caught up in the moment. Thankfully, Quinn wasn't around."
"Thankfully."
"Can I asks something?"
"Of course."
"Why don't you want anyone to know you won a chess boxing match this weekend? It proves you’re a badass physically and mentally."
"I just don't, all right?"
"I won't say anything, San," Rachel says. "You know that. I just don't understand. And I'd like to."
"It's easier if they all see me in a certain light," Santana says. "And while totally fucking awesome, chess boxing isn't the right one."
"You're serious?"
"Those morons would just latch onto the chess part. They wouldn't realize what it really means. Instead, they would give me less power and go after you. Not to mention those who would understand; their knowing is just as dangerous."
"How so?"
"If people gain insight into how you think, they'll be better able to take you down."
"That doesn't sound too paranoid," Rachel says.
"That's how it is in the real world," Santana counters. "I'm simply applying my strategy on a smaller scale."
"You sound like you're preparing for battle."
"You don't think high school is a battlefield?" Santana questions.
"I suppose it could be seen that way."
"Exactly. We just have to survive this place a little longer," Santana says. "And I'd like to have every advantage possible."
"Fine," Rachel agrees. "But if Quinn doesn't start leaving me alone, there will be consequences."
"That's fair." Santana looks around a moment. "Wanna?"
…
Quinn hears about Rachel dragging Santana off when she sits down with the rest of the Cheerios. It just fuels her theory. According to the others, Rachel practically dragged Santana away from the table.
Quinn realizes that it could be unrelated, but the timing is conspicuous. It makes her suspicious. Especially since Berry's been much less volatile since she started dating Santana.
That thought actually stops Quinn mid chew. What if Berry has been taking her anger out on Santana?
Quinn doesn't finish her lunch.
…
"Why can't we at least tell our fellow glee members about the fight?" Rachel asks as they fix their clothes and check their appearances.
"Because it's full of gossips. Hummel and Mercedes are walking bullhorns."
"I don't think you're giving them enough credit."
"And you're giving them too much," Santana replies.
"I still don't think this is a good idea," Rachel tells Santana.
"It's fine. I'm just yanking Q's chain. Maybe this will change her perspective."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Q thinks B and I have abandoned her because we're nice to you now," Santana explains.
"That's absurd."
"That's Q," Santana replies. "Personally, I think she's repressing some serious gay longing for you."
This actually renders Rachel speechless. Santana chuckles.
"Please tell me you're joking."
Santana shrugs. "She's repressing something. Lesbian works as well as anything else."
"Yes, but why me?"
"You are her favorite target."
"Surely you jest."
"You really are," Santana replies. "And don’t call me Shirley."
"Why?"
"Who knows? Q can't even give a straight answer to that question."
"Lovely," Rachel mumbles. "Something else to be concerned about."
"What's there to be concerned about, babe? It's not like she still slushies you."
"Yes, but if what you're saying is true, then Quinn will need to find another way to direct her attentions to me without seeming to actually like me. And she's already done this a few times. When you and I were friends, she was openly, overly hostile, almost in defiance of our relationship. And then when that didn't work, she was more subtle about her hatred; except we already knew it was there. And then there was the challenge. That took over a week to solve, but it wasn't long enough. Her latest? Thinking I'm a threat to you? Is the most interesting. It serves two purposes. She gets to focus on me and at the same time, possibly get you away from me. No wonder she latched onto it so easily. She jumped at the possibility that I'm bad for you."
"Holy shit."
"Yes, well, it just sort of came to me."
"Does that mean that Q will just find a different way to interfere after she figures out I was joking?"
Rachel shrugs. "I have no idea. I suppose it depends on her reaction when she finds out."
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch.
"That is my cue," Rachel says. "See you later?"
Santana just nods, still contemplating.
…
Rachel is yanked harshly out of the doorway while exiting sixth period. She's dragged into the next room, which happens to be an empty classroom.
"Quinn," Rachel says, finally being able to identify her attacker. "What is the meaning of this?"
"What did you do to S, RuPaul?" Quinn hisses, ignoring Rachel's question.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Quinn."
"So her cut lip and black eye are just my imagination?"
"How do you know she has a black eye?" Rachel asks.
"I repeat," Quinn says. "What did you do to Santana?"
"I did nothing."
"I bet," Quinn sneers. "This explains a lot actually."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Like you don't know."
"Quinn," Rachel says. "I entreat you to give up this futile venture. I am most definitely not abusing Santana. I would never do such a thing."
"Then how do you know what I'm talking about?"
"I used my deduction skills."
"Or you are and are just trying to con me."
"God, I hope not," Rachel replies. "That's the worst strategy I've ever heard."
"Hi Rach, Hi Quinn," Brittany's voice interrupts them. "Why do you guys look so serious?"
"No reason."
"Is this about Santana?" Brittany asks. "Because she said to tell you not to worry."
"Really?" Quinn asks.
"Actually," Brittany replies. "She said, 'Q needs to chill the fuck out. She's taking this joke way too fucking serious.' And she's right, Quinn."
Scowling, Quinn looks back and forth between Rachel and Brittany several times before stomping away.
"That went well," Rachel comments wryly.
…
Quinn's been watching Santana carefully all through Cheerios practice. She's off her game, just slightly. It's obvious to Quinn that Santana's moving slower, possibly because she's sore. More pieces fall into place.
In the locker room, Quinn makes sure to keep out of Santana's line of sight as she watches her. Her movements seem sluggish and Quinn's pretty sure she sees a bruise or two that couldn't be from Cheerios.
But then Quinn sees it; briefly, no more than a couple seconds, but she definitely saw it. A tattoo. That says, Rachel Berry's Bitch.
Holy crap, Quinn thinks. She quickly dresses and leaves, wanting time to think.
….
"How'd you get the animals out of the pool?" Brittany asks Rachel as they ride in Santana's car.
"I called some guys I know. They did it for me."
"Some guys?" Santana asks.
"Some brothers. Sons of my daddy's coworker. We used to spend time together in our younger days."
"Brothers?"
"They work at the zoo," Rachel continues. "I learned how to properly handle animals from them."
"How come I've never heard of these guys?"
"You have," Rachel tells her. "Remember? Billy Saunders? He was my dance partner several times when I was in seventh and eighth grade. He was actually quite good considering how little training he had in comparison to me."
"Babe," Santana says. "Everyone has had less training than you."
"Well, that's certainly true."
"And so you just asked them to do it and they did?" Santana questions.
"Well, they did owe me, so I had to call in that," Rachel replies. "But basically, yes."
"Unbelievable," Santana mutters. "Un-fucking-believable."
…
Pieces are starting to fall into place for Quinn. The tattoo is just the final part of the puzzle. The fact that the pair kept the tattoo a secret seals it for Quinn. Everyone was so concerned about Rachel, but it was obviously a cover. Rachel is the real bitch in the relationship.
Santana is obviously in denial. Or thinks it's okay. Quinn tries to remember all the Lifetime movies she used to watch. The women rarely got away without serious trauma. Quinn's not going to let that happen to Santana.
Tomorrow she's going to seek out some help.
…
The next morning Rachel finds herself escorted to Principal Figgins' office. She's ushered inside and sits, because she has no choice.
"Good morning, Ms. Berry."
"Principal Figgins," Rachel replies.
"I need to speak with you about something rather important."
"All right."
"As I'm sure you're aware, this school has been plagued by a prankster. He or she has been wreaking havoc on McKinley for far too long."
Rachel nods, getting nervous.
"I owe you an apology for when I accused you of being the prankster," Figgins continues. "I have no idea who it is and when I was given, what I thought, was a legitimate lead, I had to take it."
"Thank you sir," Rachel says. "But I'm still not sure why I'm here."
"I'm requesting your help in figuring out who the prankster is."
"Excuse me?"
"You're tenacious, determined, intelligent and you're in a position to learn things myself or my staff is unable to."
"Um…"
"I realize how unorthodox this request is. And normally, I would never even consider it, but I am desperate," Figgins explains. "I see no other options."
"I'm not sure how much help I can be Principal Figgins," Rachel replies. "While I agree with everything you said about me, no one seems to know who the Prankster is. Or if they do, they're not talking."
"I realize that, but surely you could do a little investigating."
Rachel sighs. "Sir, may I be frank with you?"
"I welcome it."
"While my social standing at the moment might be acceptable," Rachel begins. "It would not be helped by me nosing around trying to figure out who the Prankster is. And I cannot go back to how things were before."
"I understand that, I do, Ms. Berry, but I need you to also understand my position."
"Everyone is constantly speculating who the Prankster is after every prank," Rachel explains. "No one's come up with any answers."
"You don't have to investigate per say," Figgins tells her. It's obvious he's getting annoyed. "If you could just keep your ears open and let me know if you hear anything."
"I'd rather not make accusations based on overheard gossip."
"Then only tell me what you think is relevant," Figgins replies.
"I'm not entirely comfortable being a spy either."
"I wouldn't categorize it as spying. It's simply the passing along of information."
Rachel sighs. It seems that she's not going to get out of here without a definitive answer. "I'll think about it, all right?"
Figgins nods. "Excellent. I know you'll make the right decision."
"Right. I have to get to class now," Rachel says, standing.
…
Santana hasn't seen Quinn once today and hopes that means she's finally figured it out. She texts Rachel during lunch to see if Quinn's been bothering her.
I have seen neither hide nor hair of Ms. Fabray today. Is she ill? I expected further inquiries into how awful I am to you. Thank you SO much for playing this joke.
Santana wonders if the sarcasm means she's in the doghouse. It's strange that Quinn hasn't been seen; especially since Quinn shares second period with Rachel. Maybe she's skipping. A rare thing for Fabray, but it does happen occasionally.
Normally, she wouldn't care, but considering the situation, Santana doesn't know what to think. It could be that Quinn skipped to plot revenge on Santana for the joke or it could be that she's sought out adult assistance. Santana just prays it's the first one.
…
Will is having lunch in his office when Quinn timidly knocks on his door.
"Quinn. What can I help you with?'
"I, uh, I'm worried. About Santana."
"All right." Will gestures for Quinn to sit down.
"I didn't know who else to go to," Quinn explains. "But I thinks someone's hurting her."
"Hurting her?"
"Like beating her."
"Oh." Will is shocked. "Do you have any idea who?"
Quinn nods.
Will waits. When Quinn continues to sit there in silence, he asks, "Who?"
Quinn leans closer and lowers her voice. "I think it's her girlfriend."
Will is now stunned into silence. She couldn't mean Rachel could she? "Rachel? Rachel Berry is beating Santana Lopez?"
"I know it sounds crazy," Quinn agrees.
"What makes you think…"
"Santana has a cut lip and she's covered up a black eye. And she won't admit where she got it. Plus when I asked Rachel about it, she just got defensive."
"That's hardly enough to--"
"This is just the first time it's been visible," Quinn insists. "Think about. Santana has been different since she started dating Berry. It makes sense that she's changing because Berry beats her. I mean, where else would this nice and fluffy Santana come from?"
Santana's been nice and fluffy? Will thinks to himself as he feels a headache coming on. "Did you try talking to Brittany?"
Quinn nods. "She didn't clarify anything."
Will isn't surprised. "All right, Quinn. I'll try talking to Santana. Hopefully, she'll feel comfortable enough to talk about it.
"I hope so, Mr. Schue."
…
Rachel has a feeling that Quinn hasn't figured out that Santana was joking. When the blonde shows up at lunch, she shoots Rachel a judgmental look.
It's a rarity that Quinn sits at the glee table instead of the Cheerios' table, but no one blinks an eye as Quinn sits at the end of the table next to Santana.
On the other side of Santana, Rachel keeps an eye on Quinn, who is in turn keeping an eye on Rachel's interaction with Santana. The couple isn't really interacting, just sitting extremely close. Santana is talking with Tina and Mercedes while Rachel is talking to Artie and Mike. Quinn quietly eats her lunch and simply watches.
Kurt keeps shooting questioning glances at Quinn, but doesn't say anything as he half listens to Mercedes, Tina and Santana chat. The head Cheerio has been acting weird this week, which Kurt at first blamed on Quinn losing to Rachel. However, watching her now, he isn't sure. Something's obviously going on; he'll just have to sit back and wait for the fireworks to start. They always do.
…
Will grabs Santana before she walks into glee. "Brittany, could Santana and I talk a moment?"
Brittany nods.
"Alone?"
Brittany smiles, nods again and goes inside.
"What's up, Mr. Schue?"
"I was wondering what happened to you this weekend."
"What'd you mean?" Santana asks.
"Your lip. Your eye."
"It's fine."
"What happened?" Will asks.
"Why do you care?"
"I just want to make sure you're okay."
"I'm fine," Santana insists.
"And you're not having any problems… with anyone?" Will continues.
"No. Course not. I'm Santana Lopez. Who would give me trouble?"
"It's just no one knows why--"
"And why is that your business?"
"We're concerned," Will answers.
"Who's 'we'?"
"Myself, of course. And one of your teammates."
"Quinn?"
"Who isn't important," Will tells her. "What's important is that if you need to talk to anyone, about anything, you can come to me."
"I'm fine, Mr. Schue. Quinn's over reacting."
"She's just worried."
"I get that. I'm fine."
"Santana…"
"I'm serious, Mr. Schue," Santana says. "Drop it." Done with the conversation, Santana steps around Will and walks into the choir room.
…
Glee is awkward at best. Both Rachel and Santana try to act like Santana's joke isn't backfiring on them. Quinn either glares angrily at Rachel or glances over at Santana looking overly concerned. Meanwhile, Mr. Schuester tries his best to keep the three separated. This is made more difficult by the fact that Rachel and Santana don't want to be separated.
The others sense something's up, but no one's willing to broach the subject. They just try to be as on as possible, so practice is over quickly and they can all leave.
…
Will asks Rachel to stay a moment after glee. Since Santana isn't coming over, Rachel gives her girlfriend a peck on the cheek and waves her out.
"What did you want to talk about, Mr. Schue?"
"I'll get straight to the point, Rachel," Will says. "I think we'll both appreciate that."
"All right," Rachel says, warily.
"Did you hit Santana this weekend?"
"What? No. Of course not."
"Then what happened to cause her injuries?"
"You should really talk to her about that," Rachel replies.
"Why? What are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of anything, Mr. Schue. But if you want to know what happened to Santana, then you should just ask her instead of interrogating me."
"I tried asking her."
"And you didn't like her answer, I take it."
"Rachel, giving me attitude isn't helping."
"I'm not sure what you want me to say here," Rachel tells him.
"I just want you to assure me that you're not mistreating Santana."
"I am the perfect girlfriend, Mr. Schue."
"Because I'd hate to have to take this further," Will says.
"Please don’t attempt to threaten me," Rachel replies.
"It's not a threat, Rachel," Will replies. "It's simply the truth."
"There's nothing to take further," Rachel insists. "I don't believe in violence and I certainly don't believe in it as a problem solver. You should know this."
"I suppose I do. But only because that's what you show me."
"We're not going to get into that, are we? Because I could make similar statements about you, Mr. Schue."
"I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this."
"Quinn simply misconstrued something Santana said and now she's run off on some wild goose chase."
"She says she has evidence."
"Circumstantial at best."
Will stares at Rachel, trying to understand or gauge her honesty. "Fine. But I'll be keeping a closer eye on you."
"Goody," Rachel mocks.
Grabbing her bag off the floor, Rachel flounces out in a huff.
"Well, that went well," Will mutters to himself.
…
When Santana answers her phone, she's greeted by an irate girlfriend.
"This whole situation has gotten completely out of control," Rachel tells her. "Mr. Schuester just accused me of hitting you."
"What?"
"You heard me. Quinn's got Mr. Schuester involved. No more. End this."
"Yeah. Yeah. I'll talk to Q tomorrow."
"Just so you know," Rachel says. "You're cut off until you fix this."
"What? Rach, come on."
"While I've gained significant sympathy towards your plight of usually being the villain in our relationship, I fear we're heading in a dangerous direction."
"Yeah, if Mr. Schue is involved, that's probably true," Santana agrees. "I'll get it figured out."
"Damn straight," Rachel snarks before quickly hanging up.
…
The next morning, Santana pulls Quinn into the bathroom to clear things up. It only takes an angry glare from both of them to clear the room of any lingering lowly nobodys.
"What the fuck, Fabray? You went to Schue? I told I was kidding."
"You're just trying to cover it up," Quinn replies. "I did some research. Abused women will tell whatever lie necessary to not admit it."
"Or in my case, because it's not true."
"Then why did you… your response on Monday morning seemed so telling," Quinn says.
"I was just fucking with you," Santana replies. "It's fun."
"Fun? That's your answer? You were just screwing with me. Because it's fun?"
"Why are you surprised? I do that all the time."
"You used to," Quinn says. "But it's been a while since you have. Which is what makes me believe Berry is beating you."
"Change isn't always bad."
"I want my friend back," Quinn tells her. "I miss you."
"Maybe if you'd stop ripping on my girlfriend, we'd see each other more."
"God," Quinn groans. "Even after all this time, I cannot handle that you're dating Berry. I just can't. I'm sorry."
"Why the fuck not?"
"I don't know. Because she's Rachel fucking Berry! Anyone else would have been better."
"Well too fucking bad, Q," Santana replies. "You don't chose who you love. You just do."
"I don't want to hear about it."
"Well then, how about this?" Santana tries. "Rachel and I are together. And you need to deal with it. Then you and I can go back to being friends. And then you'll realize that she's not hitting me or anything crazy like that."
Quinn shakes her head slightly. "We'll see."
…
Emma looks up at a knock on her office door.
"You got a moment for some student related counseling?" Will asks.
"I suppose so."
"I think I might have a student in an abusive relationship," Will begins. "But I can't get her to admit it. I'm worried."
"Well, direct confrontation rarely works. People usually feel like they're being attacked and jump to defensive mode."
"What do you suggest?"
"She needs to feel safe," Emma explains. "That you're not accusing her of anything."
"If I know who the abuser is, should I confront them?"
"I'm not sure if that's a wise idea," Emma says. "What if he lashes out? Either at you or the girl?"
"Maybe," Will allows. "It's just she seems so level headed. I can't imagine her beating up anyone."
"I understand." Her? "Wait. What?"
Will sighs. "I think Rachel Berry is abusing Santana Lopez."
Emma's mouth moves, but no words come out.
"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?" she manages, finally.
"I think that Rachel's hitting Santana."
"What could possibly make you think that?" Emma asks.
"Santana has a cut lip and a black eye. She won't say where it came from. Plus she was so defensive about it. I'm not the only one who's worried. Quinn Fabray is the one that brought it to my attention."
"I suppose you confronted Rachel, too?" Emma questions, trying not to feel frustrated at her colleague's actions.
He looks sheepish at the question, but nods. "I couldn't help it. It was after glee and it just sort of happened."
"And how did that go?"
"Not so well," Will admits.
"I'll set up a meeting with Santana and hopefully she'll be willing to talk about it with me."
"And Rachel?"
"You think I should meet with Rachel as well?"
"I'd prefer it," Will replies. "It'd be nice to hear her side of the story. And I want to help them both. Rachel admitting she may have a problem is a good thing, right?"
"Yes, of course," Emma says. "Admitting you have a problem is always a great first step, but I'm more concerned about removing Santana from a harmful situation. That should be the first priority."
"Okay. Yes, you're right. So you'll meet with Santana and hopefully she'll admit that she needs help."
"Hopefully, yes."
"Emma, I really appreciate your help."
"Of course," Emma replies. "It is my job, after all."
"Still," Will says. "I want you to know, I appreciate it."
"You're welcome."
"Well, I better go," Will says, backing out of the office slowly. "Classes to teach."
Part Two
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
Santana's face looks somewhat better on Monday morning, but there's still a black eye and bruised jaw to cover up. Once she's done, only the cuts on her lips are visible. She figures she can blame it on some badassery that supposedly happened over the weekend.
Besides, she's Santana fucking Lopez. She doesn't owe anyone an explanation.
Driving to the Berrys' to give Rachel a ride, Santana is on top of the world, still floating from her victory Friday night. And then Rachel's reaction had led to an epic marathon of sex Saturday night. It's one of the better weekends in memory.
…
"Damn Lopez." Quinn's voice is full of mocking. "Berry finally started getting violent, I see."
If there's one thing that could ruin her high, it would be Quinn Fabray. Pulling things out of her locker, Santana decides not to give in, but instead, fuck with her.
"Shut up, Fabray," Santana grouses. "You wouldn't understand."
It's obviously not the response Quinn was seeking, because she can only gape. "What?"
"Never mind. I gotta go." Santana scampers off, leaving Quinn staring after her.
…
Quinn spends first period deep in thought, ignoring the teacher. She'd only been joking earlier, but Santana's reaction… It would explain a lot; the change of behavior in both of them, the arrogance that Rachel seems to now sport, why Santana pulled away.
She didn't think it possible, but apparently it's true. Rachel Berry is beating Santana Lopez.
God, even thinking that is so absurd. Quinn chuckles to herself at the thought. There's no way. RuPaul could never get the drop on Santana. Nor would Santana allow that to happen. Surely, the girl was just screwing with her.
On a whim, she texts Brittany. Wht hppnd 2 S face?
She receives a response a few minutes later. Violence.
Wait. What? Wht does THAT mean?
This time the response takes longer.
Nothing happnd.
Quinn just stares at her phone. How is she supposed to interpret that? She tries texting Brittany for the rest of the period, but gets no response.
…
Rachel knows she can easily get all the animals out with no trouble. However, it will be quite time consuming. She decides to try a different approach.
Pulling out her cell phone, Rachel skims through her contacts until she comes upon a rarely used number.
"Tommy? It's Rachel. Yeah, Leroy's daughter. Fine. Fine. Couldn't say. That it is. Listen, could you possibly do me a favor? Well, it seems someone thought it'd be funny to put a bunch of animals inside McKinley. Yes, the high school. I don't know why. Do you think maybe you, Ron and Billy could come get them out and release them for me? Because I don't want to miss my classes. They won't be as careful. I don't care. Please. Because I asked. It is good enough. Fine. You owe me. Yes, you do. That's right. Eleven. I do realize. Thanks. Hi to Ron and Billy. Yes. Thanks. Bye."
One less thing to worry about. She knows she can trust the Saunders brothers to safely remove the animals. After all, it's from them that she learned.
Feeling buoyant, Rachel walks to the front of McKinley to wait for the brothers, so she can direct them towards the pool and the closest door.
…
Sitting in second period, Quinn analyzes, watching Berry in her peripheral. Nothing seems different, but the most she mulls it over, the more plausible the abuse seems.
When the bell rings, Quinn decides to try and get answers another way.
"Berry."
"Quinn."
"What'd you do this weekend? Because Santana's being tight lipped about it."
"Nothing in particular," Rachel replies. "If Santana doesn't want to tell you, that's her business."
"She's your girlfriend."
"That's really not a compelling argument, Quinn," Rachel tells her. "Besides, why do you care?"
"Because she won't tell me."
"I'm sure she has her reasons," Rachel says. "I try to stay out of such things. I'm sure if you exercise a little patience, she'll tell you soon."
"I'm concerned."
"I'm sure she appreciates that."
"I'm concerned," Quinn tries again. "That maybe the reason behind her cut lip isn't simply an accident."
"I wasn't there," Rachel replies. "So I can't say."
"You're very good at sticking to your story," Quinn says.
"You mean, the truth?"
"Something happened to S this weekend, Berry," Quinn growls. "And if I find out that you had anything to do with it--"
"I hate to cut this discussion short, but I really must go if I don't want to be late for third period. Bye Quinn."
And once again, Quinn is left staring.
…
Santana is summoned by Coach Sylvester at the end of second period.
"What the hell happened to your face, S?"
"Uh…"
"And I'll know if you're lying."
"Wasn't going to," Santana replies sullenly. "Won a boxing match this weekend."
"Did you now?"
Santana nods.
"Fine. Dismissed."
…
Quinn spend the rest of the morning trying to either get information from Brittany or get a straight answer from Santana. She's unsuccessful in both endeavors. It's almost as if they're avoiding her. It just further feeds her theory.
…
Santana is eating lunch with Britt and some other Cheerios when Rachel stomps over and says, "Santana, dear, may I have a moment of your time? Now!" And then stalks off, obviously expecting Santana to follow.
She finds Rachel stewing in the choir room. She steps carefully inside and closes the door behind her.
Rachel looks up as the door clicks shut and Santana can see fire in her eyes.
"Santana Lopez," Rachel begins. "Did you tell Quinn that I beat you?"
Santana just smirks.
"Why would you do that?"
"To fuck with her," Santana replies. "Why else?"
"And you're okay having people think your badass self is getting beating up by ManHands?"
"Don't call yourself that."
"Well?" Rachel is now tapping her foot impatiently.
"It's just Q," Santana retorts. "She won't tell anyone of merit. She'll be too worried about your reaction."
"But surely your years of friendship would compel her to help," Rachel points out.
"It's hard to tell with Quinn, actually, babe. Besides, she'll probably figure it out and then be pissed at me."
"Well, I hope it's soon," Rachel says. "Her inquiries are getting quite tiresome."
"You do realize your demand that I follow you, didn't exactly help," Santana points out.
"Yes, well, I got caught up in the moment. Thankfully, Quinn wasn't around."
"Thankfully."
"Can I asks something?"
"Of course."
"Why don't you want anyone to know you won a chess boxing match this weekend? It proves you’re a badass physically and mentally."
"I just don't, all right?"
"I won't say anything, San," Rachel says. "You know that. I just don't understand. And I'd like to."
"It's easier if they all see me in a certain light," Santana says. "And while totally fucking awesome, chess boxing isn't the right one."
"You're serious?"
"Those morons would just latch onto the chess part. They wouldn't realize what it really means. Instead, they would give me less power and go after you. Not to mention those who would understand; their knowing is just as dangerous."
"How so?"
"If people gain insight into how you think, they'll be better able to take you down."
"That doesn't sound too paranoid," Rachel says.
"That's how it is in the real world," Santana counters. "I'm simply applying my strategy on a smaller scale."
"You sound like you're preparing for battle."
"You don't think high school is a battlefield?" Santana questions.
"I suppose it could be seen that way."
"Exactly. We just have to survive this place a little longer," Santana says. "And I'd like to have every advantage possible."
"Fine," Rachel agrees. "But if Quinn doesn't start leaving me alone, there will be consequences."
"That's fair." Santana looks around a moment. "Wanna?"
…
Quinn hears about Rachel dragging Santana off when she sits down with the rest of the Cheerios. It just fuels her theory. According to the others, Rachel practically dragged Santana away from the table.
Quinn realizes that it could be unrelated, but the timing is conspicuous. It makes her suspicious. Especially since Berry's been much less volatile since she started dating Santana.
That thought actually stops Quinn mid chew. What if Berry has been taking her anger out on Santana?
Quinn doesn't finish her lunch.
…
"Why can't we at least tell our fellow glee members about the fight?" Rachel asks as they fix their clothes and check their appearances.
"Because it's full of gossips. Hummel and Mercedes are walking bullhorns."
"I don't think you're giving them enough credit."
"And you're giving them too much," Santana replies.
"I still don't think this is a good idea," Rachel tells Santana.
"It's fine. I'm just yanking Q's chain. Maybe this will change her perspective."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Q thinks B and I have abandoned her because we're nice to you now," Santana explains.
"That's absurd."
"That's Q," Santana replies. "Personally, I think she's repressing some serious gay longing for you."
This actually renders Rachel speechless. Santana chuckles.
"Please tell me you're joking."
Santana shrugs. "She's repressing something. Lesbian works as well as anything else."
"Yes, but why me?"
"You are her favorite target."
"Surely you jest."
"You really are," Santana replies. "And don’t call me Shirley."
"Why?"
"Who knows? Q can't even give a straight answer to that question."
"Lovely," Rachel mumbles. "Something else to be concerned about."
"What's there to be concerned about, babe? It's not like she still slushies you."
"Yes, but if what you're saying is true, then Quinn will need to find another way to direct her attentions to me without seeming to actually like me. And she's already done this a few times. When you and I were friends, she was openly, overly hostile, almost in defiance of our relationship. And then when that didn't work, she was more subtle about her hatred; except we already knew it was there. And then there was the challenge. That took over a week to solve, but it wasn't long enough. Her latest? Thinking I'm a threat to you? Is the most interesting. It serves two purposes. She gets to focus on me and at the same time, possibly get you away from me. No wonder she latched onto it so easily. She jumped at the possibility that I'm bad for you."
"Holy shit."
"Yes, well, it just sort of came to me."
"Does that mean that Q will just find a different way to interfere after she figures out I was joking?"
Rachel shrugs. "I have no idea. I suppose it depends on her reaction when she finds out."
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch.
"That is my cue," Rachel says. "See you later?"
Santana just nods, still contemplating.
…
Rachel is yanked harshly out of the doorway while exiting sixth period. She's dragged into the next room, which happens to be an empty classroom.
"Quinn," Rachel says, finally being able to identify her attacker. "What is the meaning of this?"
"What did you do to S, RuPaul?" Quinn hisses, ignoring Rachel's question.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Quinn."
"So her cut lip and black eye are just my imagination?"
"How do you know she has a black eye?" Rachel asks.
"I repeat," Quinn says. "What did you do to Santana?"
"I did nothing."
"I bet," Quinn sneers. "This explains a lot actually."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Like you don't know."
"Quinn," Rachel says. "I entreat you to give up this futile venture. I am most definitely not abusing Santana. I would never do such a thing."
"Then how do you know what I'm talking about?"
"I used my deduction skills."
"Or you are and are just trying to con me."
"God, I hope not," Rachel replies. "That's the worst strategy I've ever heard."
"Hi Rach, Hi Quinn," Brittany's voice interrupts them. "Why do you guys look so serious?"
"No reason."
"Is this about Santana?" Brittany asks. "Because she said to tell you not to worry."
"Really?" Quinn asks.
"Actually," Brittany replies. "She said, 'Q needs to chill the fuck out. She's taking this joke way too fucking serious.' And she's right, Quinn."
Scowling, Quinn looks back and forth between Rachel and Brittany several times before stomping away.
"That went well," Rachel comments wryly.
…
Quinn's been watching Santana carefully all through Cheerios practice. She's off her game, just slightly. It's obvious to Quinn that Santana's moving slower, possibly because she's sore. More pieces fall into place.
In the locker room, Quinn makes sure to keep out of Santana's line of sight as she watches her. Her movements seem sluggish and Quinn's pretty sure she sees a bruise or two that couldn't be from Cheerios.
But then Quinn sees it; briefly, no more than a couple seconds, but she definitely saw it. A tattoo. That says, Rachel Berry's Bitch.
Holy crap, Quinn thinks. She quickly dresses and leaves, wanting time to think.
….
"How'd you get the animals out of the pool?" Brittany asks Rachel as they ride in Santana's car.
"I called some guys I know. They did it for me."
"Some guys?" Santana asks.
"Some brothers. Sons of my daddy's coworker. We used to spend time together in our younger days."
"Brothers?"
"They work at the zoo," Rachel continues. "I learned how to properly handle animals from them."
"How come I've never heard of these guys?"
"You have," Rachel tells her. "Remember? Billy Saunders? He was my dance partner several times when I was in seventh and eighth grade. He was actually quite good considering how little training he had in comparison to me."
"Babe," Santana says. "Everyone has had less training than you."
"Well, that's certainly true."
"And so you just asked them to do it and they did?" Santana questions.
"Well, they did owe me, so I had to call in that," Rachel replies. "But basically, yes."
"Unbelievable," Santana mutters. "Un-fucking-believable."
…
Pieces are starting to fall into place for Quinn. The tattoo is just the final part of the puzzle. The fact that the pair kept the tattoo a secret seals it for Quinn. Everyone was so concerned about Rachel, but it was obviously a cover. Rachel is the real bitch in the relationship.
Santana is obviously in denial. Or thinks it's okay. Quinn tries to remember all the Lifetime movies she used to watch. The women rarely got away without serious trauma. Quinn's not going to let that happen to Santana.
Tomorrow she's going to seek out some help.
…
The next morning Rachel finds herself escorted to Principal Figgins' office. She's ushered inside and sits, because she has no choice.
"Good morning, Ms. Berry."
"Principal Figgins," Rachel replies.
"I need to speak with you about something rather important."
"All right."
"As I'm sure you're aware, this school has been plagued by a prankster. He or she has been wreaking havoc on McKinley for far too long."
Rachel nods, getting nervous.
"I owe you an apology for when I accused you of being the prankster," Figgins continues. "I have no idea who it is and when I was given, what I thought, was a legitimate lead, I had to take it."
"Thank you sir," Rachel says. "But I'm still not sure why I'm here."
"I'm requesting your help in figuring out who the prankster is."
"Excuse me?"
"You're tenacious, determined, intelligent and you're in a position to learn things myself or my staff is unable to."
"Um…"
"I realize how unorthodox this request is. And normally, I would never even consider it, but I am desperate," Figgins explains. "I see no other options."
"I'm not sure how much help I can be Principal Figgins," Rachel replies. "While I agree with everything you said about me, no one seems to know who the Prankster is. Or if they do, they're not talking."
"I realize that, but surely you could do a little investigating."
Rachel sighs. "Sir, may I be frank with you?"
"I welcome it."
"While my social standing at the moment might be acceptable," Rachel begins. "It would not be helped by me nosing around trying to figure out who the Prankster is. And I cannot go back to how things were before."
"I understand that, I do, Ms. Berry, but I need you to also understand my position."
"Everyone is constantly speculating who the Prankster is after every prank," Rachel explains. "No one's come up with any answers."
"You don't have to investigate per say," Figgins tells her. It's obvious he's getting annoyed. "If you could just keep your ears open and let me know if you hear anything."
"I'd rather not make accusations based on overheard gossip."
"Then only tell me what you think is relevant," Figgins replies.
"I'm not entirely comfortable being a spy either."
"I wouldn't categorize it as spying. It's simply the passing along of information."
Rachel sighs. It seems that she's not going to get out of here without a definitive answer. "I'll think about it, all right?"
Figgins nods. "Excellent. I know you'll make the right decision."
"Right. I have to get to class now," Rachel says, standing.
…
Santana hasn't seen Quinn once today and hopes that means she's finally figured it out. She texts Rachel during lunch to see if Quinn's been bothering her.
I have seen neither hide nor hair of Ms. Fabray today. Is she ill? I expected further inquiries into how awful I am to you. Thank you SO much for playing this joke.
Santana wonders if the sarcasm means she's in the doghouse. It's strange that Quinn hasn't been seen; especially since Quinn shares second period with Rachel. Maybe she's skipping. A rare thing for Fabray, but it does happen occasionally.
Normally, she wouldn't care, but considering the situation, Santana doesn't know what to think. It could be that Quinn skipped to plot revenge on Santana for the joke or it could be that she's sought out adult assistance. Santana just prays it's the first one.
…
Will is having lunch in his office when Quinn timidly knocks on his door.
"Quinn. What can I help you with?'
"I, uh, I'm worried. About Santana."
"All right." Will gestures for Quinn to sit down.
"I didn't know who else to go to," Quinn explains. "But I thinks someone's hurting her."
"Hurting her?"
"Like beating her."
"Oh." Will is shocked. "Do you have any idea who?"
Quinn nods.
Will waits. When Quinn continues to sit there in silence, he asks, "Who?"
Quinn leans closer and lowers her voice. "I think it's her girlfriend."
Will is now stunned into silence. She couldn't mean Rachel could she? "Rachel? Rachel Berry is beating Santana Lopez?"
"I know it sounds crazy," Quinn agrees.
"What makes you think…"
"Santana has a cut lip and she's covered up a black eye. And she won't admit where she got it. Plus when I asked Rachel about it, she just got defensive."
"That's hardly enough to--"
"This is just the first time it's been visible," Quinn insists. "Think about. Santana has been different since she started dating Berry. It makes sense that she's changing because Berry beats her. I mean, where else would this nice and fluffy Santana come from?"
Santana's been nice and fluffy? Will thinks to himself as he feels a headache coming on. "Did you try talking to Brittany?"
Quinn nods. "She didn't clarify anything."
Will isn't surprised. "All right, Quinn. I'll try talking to Santana. Hopefully, she'll feel comfortable enough to talk about it.
"I hope so, Mr. Schue."
…
Rachel has a feeling that Quinn hasn't figured out that Santana was joking. When the blonde shows up at lunch, she shoots Rachel a judgmental look.
It's a rarity that Quinn sits at the glee table instead of the Cheerios' table, but no one blinks an eye as Quinn sits at the end of the table next to Santana.
On the other side of Santana, Rachel keeps an eye on Quinn, who is in turn keeping an eye on Rachel's interaction with Santana. The couple isn't really interacting, just sitting extremely close. Santana is talking with Tina and Mercedes while Rachel is talking to Artie and Mike. Quinn quietly eats her lunch and simply watches.
Kurt keeps shooting questioning glances at Quinn, but doesn't say anything as he half listens to Mercedes, Tina and Santana chat. The head Cheerio has been acting weird this week, which Kurt at first blamed on Quinn losing to Rachel. However, watching her now, he isn't sure. Something's obviously going on; he'll just have to sit back and wait for the fireworks to start. They always do.
…
Will grabs Santana before she walks into glee. "Brittany, could Santana and I talk a moment?"
Brittany nods.
"Alone?"
Brittany smiles, nods again and goes inside.
"What's up, Mr. Schue?"
"I was wondering what happened to you this weekend."
"What'd you mean?" Santana asks.
"Your lip. Your eye."
"It's fine."
"What happened?" Will asks.
"Why do you care?"
"I just want to make sure you're okay."
"I'm fine," Santana insists.
"And you're not having any problems… with anyone?" Will continues.
"No. Course not. I'm Santana Lopez. Who would give me trouble?"
"It's just no one knows why--"
"And why is that your business?"
"We're concerned," Will answers.
"Who's 'we'?"
"Myself, of course. And one of your teammates."
"Quinn?"
"Who isn't important," Will tells her. "What's important is that if you need to talk to anyone, about anything, you can come to me."
"I'm fine, Mr. Schue. Quinn's over reacting."
"She's just worried."
"I get that. I'm fine."
"Santana…"
"I'm serious, Mr. Schue," Santana says. "Drop it." Done with the conversation, Santana steps around Will and walks into the choir room.
…
Glee is awkward at best. Both Rachel and Santana try to act like Santana's joke isn't backfiring on them. Quinn either glares angrily at Rachel or glances over at Santana looking overly concerned. Meanwhile, Mr. Schuester tries his best to keep the three separated. This is made more difficult by the fact that Rachel and Santana don't want to be separated.
The others sense something's up, but no one's willing to broach the subject. They just try to be as on as possible, so practice is over quickly and they can all leave.
…
Will asks Rachel to stay a moment after glee. Since Santana isn't coming over, Rachel gives her girlfriend a peck on the cheek and waves her out.
"What did you want to talk about, Mr. Schue?"
"I'll get straight to the point, Rachel," Will says. "I think we'll both appreciate that."
"All right," Rachel says, warily.
"Did you hit Santana this weekend?"
"What? No. Of course not."
"Then what happened to cause her injuries?"
"You should really talk to her about that," Rachel replies.
"Why? What are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of anything, Mr. Schue. But if you want to know what happened to Santana, then you should just ask her instead of interrogating me."
"I tried asking her."
"And you didn't like her answer, I take it."
"Rachel, giving me attitude isn't helping."
"I'm not sure what you want me to say here," Rachel tells him.
"I just want you to assure me that you're not mistreating Santana."
"I am the perfect girlfriend, Mr. Schue."
"Because I'd hate to have to take this further," Will says.
"Please don’t attempt to threaten me," Rachel replies.
"It's not a threat, Rachel," Will replies. "It's simply the truth."
"There's nothing to take further," Rachel insists. "I don't believe in violence and I certainly don't believe in it as a problem solver. You should know this."
"I suppose I do. But only because that's what you show me."
"We're not going to get into that, are we? Because I could make similar statements about you, Mr. Schue."
"I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this."
"Quinn simply misconstrued something Santana said and now she's run off on some wild goose chase."
"She says she has evidence."
"Circumstantial at best."
Will stares at Rachel, trying to understand or gauge her honesty. "Fine. But I'll be keeping a closer eye on you."
"Goody," Rachel mocks.
Grabbing her bag off the floor, Rachel flounces out in a huff.
"Well, that went well," Will mutters to himself.
…
When Santana answers her phone, she's greeted by an irate girlfriend.
"This whole situation has gotten completely out of control," Rachel tells her. "Mr. Schuester just accused me of hitting you."
"What?"
"You heard me. Quinn's got Mr. Schuester involved. No more. End this."
"Yeah. Yeah. I'll talk to Q tomorrow."
"Just so you know," Rachel says. "You're cut off until you fix this."
"What? Rach, come on."
"While I've gained significant sympathy towards your plight of usually being the villain in our relationship, I fear we're heading in a dangerous direction."
"Yeah, if Mr. Schue is involved, that's probably true," Santana agrees. "I'll get it figured out."
"Damn straight," Rachel snarks before quickly hanging up.
…
The next morning, Santana pulls Quinn into the bathroom to clear things up. It only takes an angry glare from both of them to clear the room of any lingering lowly nobodys.
"What the fuck, Fabray? You went to Schue? I told I was kidding."
"You're just trying to cover it up," Quinn replies. "I did some research. Abused women will tell whatever lie necessary to not admit it."
"Or in my case, because it's not true."
"Then why did you… your response on Monday morning seemed so telling," Quinn says.
"I was just fucking with you," Santana replies. "It's fun."
"Fun? That's your answer? You were just screwing with me. Because it's fun?"
"Why are you surprised? I do that all the time."
"You used to," Quinn says. "But it's been a while since you have. Which is what makes me believe Berry is beating you."
"Change isn't always bad."
"I want my friend back," Quinn tells her. "I miss you."
"Maybe if you'd stop ripping on my girlfriend, we'd see each other more."
"God," Quinn groans. "Even after all this time, I cannot handle that you're dating Berry. I just can't. I'm sorry."
"Why the fuck not?"
"I don't know. Because she's Rachel fucking Berry! Anyone else would have been better."
"Well too fucking bad, Q," Santana replies. "You don't chose who you love. You just do."
"I don't want to hear about it."
"Well then, how about this?" Santana tries. "Rachel and I are together. And you need to deal with it. Then you and I can go back to being friends. And then you'll realize that she's not hitting me or anything crazy like that."
Quinn shakes her head slightly. "We'll see."
…
Emma looks up at a knock on her office door.
"You got a moment for some student related counseling?" Will asks.
"I suppose so."
"I think I might have a student in an abusive relationship," Will begins. "But I can't get her to admit it. I'm worried."
"Well, direct confrontation rarely works. People usually feel like they're being attacked and jump to defensive mode."
"What do you suggest?"
"She needs to feel safe," Emma explains. "That you're not accusing her of anything."
"If I know who the abuser is, should I confront them?"
"I'm not sure if that's a wise idea," Emma says. "What if he lashes out? Either at you or the girl?"
"Maybe," Will allows. "It's just she seems so level headed. I can't imagine her beating up anyone."
"I understand." Her? "Wait. What?"
Will sighs. "I think Rachel Berry is abusing Santana Lopez."
Emma's mouth moves, but no words come out.
"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?" she manages, finally.
"I think that Rachel's hitting Santana."
"What could possibly make you think that?" Emma asks.
"Santana has a cut lip and a black eye. She won't say where it came from. Plus she was so defensive about it. I'm not the only one who's worried. Quinn Fabray is the one that brought it to my attention."
"I suppose you confronted Rachel, too?" Emma questions, trying not to feel frustrated at her colleague's actions.
He looks sheepish at the question, but nods. "I couldn't help it. It was after glee and it just sort of happened."
"And how did that go?"
"Not so well," Will admits.
"I'll set up a meeting with Santana and hopefully she'll be willing to talk about it with me."
"And Rachel?"
"You think I should meet with Rachel as well?"
"I'd prefer it," Will replies. "It'd be nice to hear her side of the story. And I want to help them both. Rachel admitting she may have a problem is a good thing, right?"
"Yes, of course," Emma says. "Admitting you have a problem is always a great first step, but I'm more concerned about removing Santana from a harmful situation. That should be the first priority."
"Okay. Yes, you're right. So you'll meet with Santana and hopefully she'll admit that she needs help."
"Hopefully, yes."
"Emma, I really appreciate your help."
"Of course," Emma replies. "It is my job, after all."
"Still," Will says. "I want you to know, I appreciate it."
"You're welcome."
"Well, I better go," Will says, backing out of the office slowly. "Classes to teach."
Part Two