seriousfic

Title: Under peaceful conditions, the warlike attack themselves
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,799
Characters/Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, Santana/Brittany
Previous: Part 4
Summary: Brittany misses Santana. So does Sam. Brittany loves Santana…

Brittany showed up before Sam could call her. He'd already called all of Santana's other friends, trying to find out if any of them knew where she was, but he hesitated when it came to Brittany. Somehow, it felt like defeat, calling her. Then she showed up on his doorstep and told him she was worried about Santana.

The coffee he fixed for them tasted alright, under the circumstances. That was all he could focus on for more than a few seconds. He was grateful he'd served his girlfriend's lover a good cup of coffee.

"We should call the police," Brittany said, with a brief nod to herself. "I could tell them what she was wearing last. Black bra, black panties…"

Sam looked at her. "I tried that. She hasn't been gone for twenty-four hours yet. They won't do anything until then. I saw her rip the skin off her face and they won't look for her."

"Maybe she had a sunburn."

In a fit of motion, Sam scooped up his coffee and went to pour it down the sink. "Damn. Goddamn it." He washed the cup out but left the faucet running. After a moment of listening to the rushing water, he could talk again. "You knew she was with me. Why'd you fuck her, huh? If you're so sweet and so kind and so innocent, how the fuck can you do this to me?"

It was a little creepy, how flat Brittany could be sometimes. She stared at the coffee. She talked like he wasn't there. "Santana told me you didn't. She told me you make her comfortable. And you're with her for the salsa spice."

The water flowed off the cup and over his hands and made him drop it into the sink. He didn't notice. "I don't… how can she… fuck you."

She looked at him and he realized why she talked so low, kept looking at her feet. Her eyes were red, beacons of hurt and betrayal, and when they focused on him he felt like the world was coming to an end. "I've been to the dance studio where we met. I've been to the Chinese place we like to get our nails done. I've been everywhere I can think she would go ever since she stopped answering her phone. And you've been here. Thinking about how bad it would be if she never came back. Thinking who would do your laundry. How long you would wait before trying to find someone else. How hard it would be to find someone else. If you loved her, you couldn't imagine a world without Santana in it."

The knock at the door made them both think of Santana. Brittany rushed to answer it.

"Who's there?"

"The golden-haired goddess," the answer came.

Brittany looked at Sam, wondering if he was as confused as she was. He was.

"Umm, if you're selling something, could you come back later? Our girlfriend is missing and we're saving our money in case there's a ransom demand."

Santana's wallet dropped through the mail slot. "Sure about that?" the voice insisted.

Sam ran to Brittany and threw open the door. The Cheerio was hanging idly from the porch's roof, and when he opened up, she threw herself down onto the doormat. "Anyone here keep a man-sized iguana as a pet?"

***

Sam had explained it to Brittany, but it hadn't made sense, not even to him. With both him and Brittany talking, and going into detail on Santana's research, he figured it out almost before the Cheerio.

"Did she keep any notes?"

"In her desk," Sam said, pointing to the old wooden desk in the study. As the Cheerio hurried over to it, he added "It's locked, though. I don't have the..."

Cheerio put one hand on the drawer and ripped it free of the desk. "Don't worry. It was open." She ruffled through the papers, coming up with a folder. "Well, this looks science-y."

"Can you help her?" Sam demanded.

"I'll be honest with you. I wasn't big on science back in high school. But I know a guy who could help."

Sam sighed. "God bless you, Cheerio."

"Not lately, no."

***

Quinn stepped outside to swing away, stopping under a streetlight to give one last look through Santana's files, just in case she had attached A Complete Idiot's Guide To Reversing Monsterification. She hadn't. Quinn growled under her breath. Dumb bitch. Trying to change things that shouldn't be changed. Who did that? You faced facts. That was all you did. All you could do.

A sniffle caught her ear, and Quinn whirled to see the blonde, Brittany, coming out of that house. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and strolled up to Quinn, looking like she didn't know what she would say until she said it.

"You're going to fix Santana," Brittany said. Not a question.

"I'll try."

"She's a good person. She doesn't know it, but she is. She makes people feel better. And I don't… know what they'd do… without her."

"You and her…" Quinn said. Not a statement.

"I do like her. A lot." Brittany looked at Quinn. Really looked at her. "Please save her. I don't know what I'd do without her."

Quinn looked back. At fear that would die away into numbness. Numbness that would fall even further, into apathy. Apathy that would become routine. A routine that would one day break down and leave behind something raw and bleeding and piteous.

"You'd live."

***

Another trip out of the suburbs. Quinn waited in the shadows, not wanting to take off her (sweaty, bloody) costume just yet. She hopped on the first bus she found, knowing it would take her back to the city. From her perch on the roof, the breeze hit her nicely, pushing the sweat off her body. The wetness on her face didn't go away.

That blonde had cut Quinn deeper than her lizard girlfriend had.

"Hey," Finn said. "You okay?"

Quinn tried to ignore him, but it was hard when he started drying her face with a towel.

"You're crying," he said, mystified.

Quinn broke down. "Gone!" she sobbed, maybe meaning to preface it with a word like 'you' or 'we'. She sucked her tears in. "What are you doing here?"

"Eh, I got a little bored of lying around in my hospital room. There just isn't much entertainment. 'Oh, my eyelids don't have holes in them. Oh, my eyelids still don't have holes in them.'"

"This isn't real. This can't be happening."

Quinn closed her eyes and Finn was quiet. When she opened them, he was lying on the roof in front of her. His eyes were looking at her, but she knew they weren't really, he wasn't really there, he was asleep in a hospital room and she…

She couldn't keep that.

She bent over Finn, almost praying to him, her voice low and rough.

"Please. Stop. Just let me go. I can't take anymore. Stop haunting me. Either wake up or... or..."

The thought cut through her head. It wouldn't come out. It brought too much relief.

"I can't live in a world where I can see you, hear you, but not touch you. The both of us trapped in some sort of twilight. People shouldn't live this way. I'd give everything up in an instant if it would bring you back. Everything I am… everything I've become."

But she couldn't make that trade.

***

She couldn't very well ask her friend for help while dressed as an infamous superhero… he might recognize her… so Quinn disappeared into an abandoned subway station three blocks from her apartment and emerged five minutes later in a cheap sweatsuit she'd set aside for the occasion. The bruises she'd found on her body had surprised her—the Reptile had hit harder than she'd thought. But she'd have time for a shower and painkillers before taking a cab to the scientist.

She'd just keep moving. Like a shark, she'd stay alive so long as she never…

"Quinn!"

It was Rachel. That was all she needed. Quinn rolled her eyes before looking over at her friend. She'd been heading up the stoop into her apartment building and there was Rachel, sitting on the steps. Seeing Quinn, she jumped up to display another ridiculous outfit. Polka dots were involved.

"Hi," Quinn said, buzzing herself in..

"What's wrong?" Rachel demanded. "You look like you've been—"

"What's wrong?" Quinn repeated. She held the door open, sticking her face out to talk to Rachel. "You get grabbed by some freakazoid and then you ask me what's wrong?"

"Oh. You care."

Quinn was taken back. "I don... I'm just surprised that you almost got... and then you want to know what's wrong with me…"

"Yeah, but, I'm fine though. You don't look as good. I mean, you're very attractive, and I usually find you very attractive, but… at the moment…"

"I got hit by a car," Quinn said.

"What?"

Quinn shrugged. It made her shoulder hurt. "There's a reason jaywalking is illegal."

"You got hit by a car after we were attacked by a monster?" Rachel asked.

"Guess I shouldn’t have pissed off that gypsy, huh?" Quinn shook her head and felt her vision swim with the effort. Christ, she was more banged up than she'd thought. "Don't listen to me, I'm a little loopy... musta been exciting, being saved by the Cheerio..."

"Yeah!" Rachel nodded wildly. "It was. Almost... fun. Can I come in?"

"Why?"

Rachel's hands orbited each other helplessly. "I just don't want you to be alone right now."

She wouldn't shut up about it. Quinn could just tell. "Come on up."

***

Somehow, it was only when Quinn reached into her pocket for her keys that she realized her hands were shaking. Seeing Rachel again, she couldn't put away the image of Rachel after the Reptile had hurt her, unconscious, almost dead. Quinn tried to unlock her door. Rachel had followed close enough behind her to grab her hand and steady it so she could turn the key.

Quinn shoved through the door. The nearest chair was waiting for her to flop down in. "You really need to leave me alone now."

Before she could protest, Rachel was in the kitchen, looking through Quinn's food. "Don't talk like that," Rachel chided, almost a little playful. "I'll start to think you're not a nice person. Do you want hot cocoa? You have everything here to make hot cocoa."

Quinn gave in to having Rachel play nursemaid. She'd overplayed her hand with that car accident story. "Just some water would be fine."

In a flash, Rachel was back to hand Quinn a glass. "You're not alone, you know."

Quinn just looked at her over the lip of the glass she drank from.

"Why do you always push me away?" Rachel was just standing there, still close enough to hand Quinn something, and she wasn’t backing away. In fact, she was leaning in close to Quinn, supporting herself with a hand on Quinn's knee. "Why can't you let me in?"

"Because I'm not a nice person." Moving as carefully as a surgeon with a scalpel, Quinn put her hand between Rachel's neck and shoulder, where it could only be platonic, and gently pushed her away. "And I am alone. More than you're ever know."

"You don't have to be."

"Yes I do. But you don't have to worry about me. I'm fine. He's not but I am."

Rachel went to the door with a sniffle. Quinn listened to her footsteps and wished she would leave. Hoped she would stay. And Rachel turned around in the doorway, melodramatic to the bone. "It really worries me when you make a statement like that, Quinn Fabray!"

Quinn shrugged and set her glass down, watching the ripples in the water. "It's the truth. If it weren't for me, Finn would be up and about right now. Smiling. Happy…"

Finn was watching her. So was Kurt. She could feel their eyes and she knew how to blind them.

The beer in the fridge was Finn's. Quinn didn't even like beer, but she liked the place it took her to, where everything floated. And it wasn't like he was using it.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked. She still hadn't left.

"Taking the edge off."

"Don't. One of my dads had an alcohol problem when my other dad left him and…"

Quinn spoke over her. "Finn didn't leave, he was taken from me—"

Rachel snatched the bottle from Quinn. Quinn looked at her in shock as she put it back in the refrigerator and closed the door, standing in front of it like an armed guard. "You act like you're the one lying in that hospital bed instead of him."

Quinn laughed and shook her head. "That would be fair, wouldn't it?"

"There are better ways."

"Really?" Quinn scoffed. "Because I have been running down the list and I can't find one." She laughed again. She was on the verge of hysteria, she needed to stop the Reptile, but this apartment, this talk, this girl was her world for the moment. It was so important that Rachel understand she had to give up on her.

"You can let someone help you," Rachel said, pouring herself into each word.

Quinn blinked. "Like I let Finn help me?"

For a long time, they were quiet. Then Quinn walked back down to her chair and sat. Rachel stayed in the kitchen, watching, like she was just another ghost.

When Rachel next spoke, it came at the tail of such a long pause that it jolted Quinn out of a reverie. "You don't talk about him. You can, though. I'll listen."

"What's there to say? We were boring. Annoyingly, boringly, stupidly happy. So much happiness on the inside that none of it leaked out. Like getting into a cold pool and feeling your body temperature change just enough. We were set for the long haul. All we were going to do was go from a sapling to an oak tree. I'm changed so much since then… felt myself scar. I don't want him back. I want to rewind it, you know, like a video… start over. Memorize every moment. I wouldn't have gotten annoyed with him so much, we would've been different… I would've gotten to Kurt before he'd done it."

Rachel had gotten close during Quinn's little speech, as if trying to hear every unshed tear. "You can start over," Rachel said, before Quinn could lose herself in thought again. "You have everything you need. Your health. A job. Friends. Good friends."

Quinn shook her head. No. Not without Finn. She was nothing without him. Just pain and rage wrapped up in rage and pain.

"Yes," Rachel insisted, turning the word into a rallying cry. She fell to her knees in front of Quinn, taking her hands and squeezing them like she was trying to rub warmth into someone suffering from hypothermia. "You have good friends because you are a good friend. You have me."

Rachel held on. Quinn didn't know what she could say to make her let go.

The brunette shook her head in disbelief. "This is hilarious. There are only three people in my life who really know me and one of them is manic-depressive."

Quinn stood, suddenly horrified. What was she doing? Why did she keep coming here, being Rachel's BFF just because they had Finn in common? "I know nothing about you. We're not—We can't be. I don't know you." She pulled Rachel to her feet.

"You could," Rachel said. Quinn had brought them face to face.

Quinn turned away. Rachel pulled her back, yanked her down into a kiss that hit Quinn like a syringe of adrenaline. It'd been a long time since she'd felt the simplest human touch. A hand. A hug. Rachel's kiss was like a double dose, filling her with warmth, overloading her. And Quinn was still processing it as Rachel barked at her.

"Listen to me, Quinn Fabray, I do not need 'will they or won't they' in my life. Right now, you're going to stop saying 'let's do this' out of one corner of your mouth and 'stay away, stay away' out the other. Make a choice. Call me. I want to be there for you, Quinn, I really do. Just let me."

She walked. Quinn didn't look at her. She just heard the door open and then Rachel's perfectly dramatic parting shot.

"Some day you might want to start having people to depend on. But maybe they won't be there."

Quinn turned, but the door was already shut. And Kurt was there.

"They're already gone," he said.