A/N: Hello again! This is kind of a dark piece. It kinda just occurred to me and wouldn't leave me alone. Please review! It would be greatly appreciated!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters. I also have no rights to the featured song "Nowadays" from the musical Chicago. "Mr. Karl Hillcrest" is my own creation though.

Quinn Fabray hugged her cashmere coat closer to her body as she assessed the entrance of the seedy club. The neon sign flickered desperately against the darkness, some of the letters dead to their purpose. Inside now, she made her way to the table the scantily clad waitress had directed her to. Quinn's mind was screaming its protest at having to set foot in this sleazy atmosphere, but it was a potential client and her law firm insisted that she go to New York to meet him personally. Quinn thought she would get a small taste for the hungry city; after all, she was about to make partner at the firm and head up the new offices in New York. She wrinkled her nose at the mixture of odours that assaulted her. She stared down at a bulky man, sipping a tumbler of whiskey and eyeing up every waitress's legs as they passed.
"Mr. Karl Hillcrest?" said Quinn, commanding the man's attention immediately.

"Yes," he nodded, taking in Quinn's appearance. She was glad she had opted for pants this evening, although she could still feel him undressing her with his eyes.

"I'm Quinn Fabray. We spoke on the phone."

"Ah, yes, Quinn," he said nodding appreciatively.

"'Miss Fabray' will do fine," she corrected him flatly.

"Well, Miss Fabray," he emphasized, giving her a condescending smile, "So nice of you to join me. Can I get you a drink?" He didn't wait to hear Quinn's reply as he motioned over a brunette waitress wearing a three-inch skirt and an equally invisible, low cut top. Quinn's heart stopped momentarily as she looked at the waitress. The brunette bumped into the table, almost falling into Mr. Hillcrest's excited lap. He shook his tumbler and the brunette nodded while he tucked a bill into the band of her skirt, leaving his hand there longer than was necessary. As she turned back towards the bar he gave her ass an audible smack. Quinn all but threw up at the man's disgusting manners. Her eyes followed the brunette as she waited for the order to be filled. That can't be… she questioned. No way is that… Quinn's train of thought was suddenly halted by the sound of Mr. Hillcrest clearing his throat. "So what can my firm do for you?" she asked, without missing a beat.

"I'm looking for representation," he said. "I've had a little run in with Lady Justice," he chuckled. The brunette came back with his drink then and Quinn hurriedly scrutinized her face. She was eager to make her escape without another slap though, and dashed to the stage. "You seem distracted Miss Fabray," he said chuckling again. "That's why I come here. The ladies are friendly and know how to show a man a good time." He put his index finger to his nose and shot Quinn a knowing look, "As long as you can pay for it." He smiled hungrily at her. Quinn's mouth dried up like Death Valley in July. She swallowed hard and kept her composure. She now knew two things. One: she was not going to represent this pig of a man; and two: there was no way that waitress on the stage was who she thought she was. "Let's enjoy the entertainment," he said, turning his attention towards the stage.

When the young woman opened her mouth to sing Quinn knew without a doubt that it was indeed, Rachel Berry.

She was a little worse for wear but there was no mistaking that familiar stage presence. Rachel began to sing "Nowadays" from the musical, Chicago. Quinn could only stare perplexedly at the sight of the former starlet. She wondered how Rachel had wound up here.

"You can like the life you're livin'

You can live the life you like,"

Rachel started her striptease and danced around the stage to thrilled applause and whistles. Quinn couldn't watch the train wreck happening on stage but found it harder to look away. She sat in her seat dumbstruck and pained. Rachel ended her routine wearing nothing but a lacy g-string. Mr. Hillcrest rose awkwardly from his seat and cheered loudly. "I might ask her for an encore," he winked at Quinn.

"Please excuse me," said Quinn, struggling to maintain professional courtesy when she would rather have buried her stiletto in his groin. He was already looking for another waitress before she had even risen from her seat.

Quinn marched towards a bored looking waitress who was chewing absentmindedly on a strand of her orange hair.

"Excuse me," said Quinn politely, "Where can I find the," she stumbled over an appropriate word to use, "The young woman who was just on stage?" The waitress stared at her with interest.

"You mean Ellie?" searched the waitress. He eyes lit up and she flashed Quinn a flirtatious smile as she said, "Oh you don't want her sweetie, I can take care of you just fine." Quinn tried to ignore the obvious sexual proposition.

"She's an old friend," she informed the waitress.

"Yeah, she's got a lot of friends," scoffed the waitress derisively. "But she don't do girls." The woman took in Quinn's hard expression and quickly followed with, "But don't take my word for it. She's probably 'round the back, her shift's just finished." And with that she moved towards a table of men who were waving her over.

Quinn exited the club and made her way to the side alley where the rear door was. Her eyes darted wearily over her surroundings. She calmed herself and hoped that Rachel hadn't left already. She slowed her steps at the sound of scuffling and a quiet yelp. Quinn squinted down the dimly lit alley and saw a man pressed tightly against a smaller figure. At the sound of cloth being torn and the helpless whimpers of a woman Quinn pulled out her cell phone and shouted as confidently as she could, "You better leave her the hell alone. The cops will be here any second." Her voice was icy venom. The man backed off but not before threatening his victim.

"I'll be back to collect," he hissed at her and then punched her severely in the stomach. He took off running and when Quinn was sure he wasn't coming back she raced to the collapsed woman. She was holding her stomach and groaning what sounded to Quinn like, "But I need it… I need it." Quinn gently tilted the woman's face upwards to assess the damage. Her breath caught in her throat. "Oh God, Rachel?" she cried. She took in the brunette's bruised face and tattered clothing and starting dialling 911. "It's okay Rachel, I'm calling an ambulance," she said reassuringly. Rachel grabbed hysterically at the phone.

"No, no hospitals. No," she shrieked wildly. Quinn grabbed her hand in an effort to calm her down. "It's alright," cooed Quinn. "I'll take care of you." She struggled to keep her voice even. What the hell happened to you Rachel? Her mind screamed, devastated. Rachel's protests were placated when Quinn laid a warm, soft hand against her clammy cheek. "Am I dead? Is this heaven?" asked Rachel, bewildered. "I always knew you'd be my angel." Quinn was suddenly worried that Rachel had a concussion.

"Okay, it's time to get you somewhere safe," she said, gently helping her to her feet. Quinn pulled off her coat and wrapped it around Rachel's shoulders. Then securing her arm around her waist to support her, she helped the unsteady girl towards the street and hailed a taxi.

It was a short drive to the address Rachel had mumbled in the cab. Quinn stared at the derelict apartment building and fought off a shudder. Most of the windows were boarded up with planks of wood, the rest were cracked or broken. Quinn sidestepped past puddles of vomit as she followed Rachel to the entrance of the building. The brunette seemed to have forgotten she was even there. Rachel clumsily climbed the three flights of stairs to her apartment. Quinn followed her noiselessly. When Rachel flicked the light switch Quinn stared in horror at the squalor Rachel was living in. The apartment was barely big enough to fit three people in it, the floor was littered with garbage and the place was barren except for a dingy looking bed and a few miserable pieces of furniture. Rachel sat on the floor and rummaged through the filth trying to find something. "Rachel?" said Quinn, trying to get the girl's attention.

Rachel didn't seem to notice. She picked up a small tin and tipped its contents into the mess. She growled angrily and pitched the small container across the room and into the wall. In her violence the coat had slipped off her frame. Quinn stood frozen in place as she saw the track marks on Rachel's delicate arm. The realisation was enough to jolt Quinn back into herself. "Damn it Berry!" she yelled furiously. "What the hell were you thinking?"

The sound of the familiar name from Quinn's lips made Rachel look up at her. "Quinn?" she said softly. Her eyes were full of disbelief, like she really had thought it was all a dream. She rubbed her arms self-consciously and gathered herself up from the floor. "Thanks for bringing me home but you have to go now. I have to go out and get something," said Rachel, the words tumbling carelessly out of her mouth. Quinn gazed at the trembling brunette and knew what she wanted to get. "Rachel please, let me help you," Quinn pled. Rachel's eyes filled with shame and then rage.

"Just fucking leave!" she yelled at Quinn. "Go back to your life and forget you ever saw me!" She pushed her roughly until she was out of the door. Quinn was too hurt to even object.

In her hotel room Quinn struggled to keep the images in her head at bay. Rachel Berry, bruised and broken, a junkie, she thought miserably. The scenes kept playing through her mind like a bad movie. She needed to do something. She needed to help Rachel out of this mess. She strengthened her resolve and grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand to make a few calls.

It was early next morning when Quinn found herself staring at Rachel's apartment door. She took a breath and raised her fist to knock but the door flew open and a man pushed past her, fumbling to close his zipper and pull on his jacket at the same time. Quinn poked her head through the door to see if there were anymore 'guests'. She strode slowly into the confined space and found Rachel sprawled naked across the bed. She was staring at the ceiling, tracing invisible shapes through the air with her finger. Quinn took a moment to compose her features and stifled her tears for the drugged up girl. Rachel's head lolled to the side and she glimpsed Quinn's heartbroken figure. "Quinn," slurred the brunette excitedly. "I was hoping I'd have that dream again." Rachel tried to sit up but failed miserably; so instead she just lay there laughing. Quinn searched desperately for a few of Rachel's essential items. She emptied Rachel's purse and threw her wallet and keys into it. She grabbed what she hoped were clean enough clothes from the floor and then turned to face Rachel. Quinn sat down next to her, careful to avoid the used needles staring at her from the nightstand. "Rachel," she said softly, sweeping the matted hair from her face as she searched for familiar chocolate eyes. "You need to come with me now," she said firmly. Rachel stared at her blankly. Quinn wasn't sure if she could even understand the words she was saying. "I'm going to dress you now, okay?" she said in a calming voice, trying hard not to spook her. Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand and kissed it gently. "Look, I'm already naked," drawled Rachel. She spread her legs suggestively and continued, "You can do anything you like. Just twenty dollars," she smiled. And then in a too loud voice that was meant to be a whisper she added, "I'm giving you a discount because you remind me of this girl I used to know. I loved Quinn Fabray." Rachel let go of the blonde's rigid hand, her attention captured by something on the other side of the room. The words were like acid to Quinn. How long have you been destroying yourself like this? The thought twisted painfully in her mind as tears started freefalling down her cheeks. Quinn grabbed Rachel by the shoulders and pulled her into an upright position.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a nonchalant tone, smiling stupidly.

"I know Quinn Fabray. Would you like to see her?" Quinn's voice broke on the words. Rachel's eyes widened at the prospect. "I can take you to see Quinn, if you like?" struggled the blonde again. Rachel stood up and draped herself over Quinn.

"Really?" she purred.

"Yes," she said. "We just have to get you dressed and I'll drive you there," she answered, hastily wiping at the tears that spilled from her eyes. Rachel beamed at her and raised her arms above her head while Quinn pulled the sweatshirt over her. She steadied Rachel as she blundered into the sweatpants she held out for her. Rachel squealed with delight as Quinn escorted her out of the apartment and down the stairs.

"Where's Quinn? Where's Quinn?" asked Rachel excitedly.
"We're going to drive there Rachel," said Quinn soothingly, walking her towards the rental car. She helped the buzzed brunette into the passenger seat and strapped her in before climbing into the driver's side.

"Here we go," breathed Quinn. And she started the engine and put as much distance as she could between them and that hellhole.