(no subject)
Chapter three.
Rachel wouldn’t die, at least not without a fight. After sleeping an entire day, she realized she couldn’t let herself lose her mind more than she was already. So she made a list, and a chart, and made time in her week for investigation. She didn’t want to disturb her fathers, alarm them in any way unless it was necessary, like brain surgery. She’d seen how they were after the attack, so devastated and worried… Her first thought was that maybe these blackouts were a side effect of that event. Perhaps what bit her was poisonous or maybe what she suffered was a side effect of her trauma. But some things didn’t add up. Like the fact that Quinn was also attacked but didn’t wake up naked in the fucking woods! After a week of searching, it became incredibly frustrating, because this sort of thing didn’t happen. Rachel knew it was weird, unusual.
She tried not to let it get to her, but she was more irritable lately. She had a hard time containing her temper, which hadn’t happened before. In the two weeks after the incident at Glee with Mercedes, Rachel had snapped at a student in the hall, at Finn and even a teacher! She’d always had a strong personality, an uneven temper, but never before had she been unable to control it like that. She even got out of a slushie by growling at a jock!
The more she tried to find another explanation that wasn’t a brain tumor or a personality disorder, the harder it was. She didn’t want to end up with those conclusions because, well… they were unbelievably scary and made her cry herself to sleep at night. She thought maybe… if she didn’t think about it… and tried to exercise more… eat healthier… take vitamins… sleep more… go out with her friends and laugh... And the more she thought about it, the more it sounded like something people would do if they found out they had cancer. Rachel sobbed when she thought about it.
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The first thing she did every morning was turn on the computer and check the date, almost crying in relief when she hadn’t missed a day.
Quinn kept having nightmares. Out were the ones where kids mocked her or baby soft skin surrounded her. She kept dreaming about Rachel’s screams, waking up sobbing. She dreamt about running fast, a blur of green around her; about falling to the ground and running with her arms and legs. She always woke up sweating, always cried in relief when she realized she was in her bed.
She had a hard time concentrating at school. She was more irritable and hungrier and sadder than before. Every night she went to sleep dreading waking up in the dirt, afraid of waking up in an asylum, or not waking up at all.
Three weeks had passed and Quinn was alarmed when, on Thursday, she woke up with a headache for the fourth time that week. Instead of concentrating on the pyramid, she had to concentrate on not to snap at Sue, who was unreasonably yelling at them without a purpose. After morning practice and a shower, Quinn got out to the hallway only to encounter a scene she never imagined before, and could have never guessed her reaction to it.
There was a half-moon of people surrounding Rachel and Azimio, watching transfixed or just thirsty for blood, as he grabbed at Rachel by her arms, an empty cup of Big Gulp on the floor covered with slushie.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Quinn yelled as she marched forward, while Rachel tried to kick the jock and screamed at his face, and he screamed back.
“Just calm down, you crazy loser!”
“How dare you come to me with that cup, you regressed Neanderthal!”
“Put her down right now, or I swear to you!” Quinn screamed at the top of her lungs as she almost reached the scene.
A lot of people turned to quickly walk away, and some stood there holding their breath, and Azimio just held Rachel tighter by her upper arms as he turned around to look at Quinn.
“I ain’t dropping her; the crazy bitch just punched me! She’s trying to kick me!”
“You were going to throw that to my face, I’m done putting up with you!” Rachel screamed fiercely right in his face.
Quinn reached them just in that moment, grabbing the jock by the neck and burying her nails in, making him scream as she drag him backwards and slammed him into a locker with the sheer force of her pull.
Rachel fell to the ground on her behind, and the force of the impact stunned her into silence. She didn’t mean… it all got out of her control as soon as she saw him coming to her with the slushie. Rage got the upper hand and soon her fist was connecting with the underside of his jaw, sending the cup to the floor. Now she watched, astounded, as Quinn screamed into Azimio’s face while keeping him in place with the collar of his jacket gripped in her hands.
“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size? How can you grab a girl like that? Haven’t you seen her? She’s tiny! You could have broken her! If you ever touch her again, I swear to God -“
Rachel quickly got up and rested her hands on Quinn’s, careful to hit Azimio’s face with her elbow.
“Quinn! Stop, I’m okay.” She tugged at her hands to pry them away from the jacket and Quinn looked at her, angry for a second and then baffled, like she had let her emotions take over, just like Rachel did.
“Are you okay?” She asked softly, and the concern written on her face pulled right at Rachel’s chest.
“Thanks to you, yeah.” She managed to say before their science teacher walked out of a classroom screaming at them to take them to the principal’s office.
“Don’t thank me; you were a fierce little thing.” Quinn whispered softly as they walked behind Mr. Martinez.
“I didn’t mean to snap at him.” Rachel smiled tiredly.
“I know, me neither. It just made me so angry, I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Yeah. But thanks.” Rachel said bashfully, brushing the back of her hand over Quinn’s.
“I’m just so tired.” Quinn whispered to herself, pressing her palm to her forehead, before entering Figgins’ office.
The side of Rachel’s mouth twitched, noticing the bags under Quinn’s eyes matched her own. She was incredibly tired, too, like she needed to sleep for a whole day.
Figgins, being the inept principal he was known to be, let them go quickly with a warning. Rachel was glad this time, because she didn’t think she could take another second of his incompetence. She wished she could stop worrying and get some rest, but it seemed impossible. She just couldn’t let go of the fear of waking up every morning, one that was bound to make her jittery and tense the entire day.
Later at home, as she wrote down the incident in her day-to-day diary, something seemed uncannily familiar, and so she flipped back the pages to the days before her second blackout. These… headaches had happened to her last month, too, and if there was something she wasn’t sure she believed anymore, at least when it came to this, it was coincidences. She thought the only symptom she had were the blackouts, but what if she had other symptoms and the blackout was the outcome? She flipped to the very last page of her notebook and wrote down symptoms in the top left corner. She felt tired and had headaches, but those only seemed to come a week before last month, so what if right now… any given day… today, or tomorrow… She tried to focus. She was moody and irritable… hungrier? She wrote it down with a question mark, because she wasn’t sure if it had anything to do.
Her heart beating madly, Rachel decided to take precautions. If this was bound to happen again, any time soon, she had to be prepared. She would always leave with a change of clothes, extra money, and soap. Dirt was very disgusting to walk around covered in. She set everything at the foot of her bed later that night before attempting to sleep, but she couldn’t stop thinking about today’s events. Quinn had stood up for her. It kind of made her stomach churn, although she had no idea why. They were both so… out of control. Quinn seemed confused when she pulled her away from Azimio, and she had to admit, she also looked really tired. Rachel remembered her having a cold, so maybe she hadn’t fully recuperated from that. With a sigh, she rolled over and tried to force her mind to sleep. She wished her situation was a problem of just a simple cold.
&&&
“Rachel… wake up… you’re home… you’re home…”
Rachel opened her eyes, immediately squinting at the sun that slipped through the trees. Tears fell slowly from the corner of her eyes to her temples and she turned to her side, groaning in pain before it turned into a helpless sob. She cried until she was out of tears, partially because it had happened again, but the other half wasn’t because her mind was blank, but because this time, she did remembered things.
She should have known, as soon as this happened more than once, that whatever it was, it wasn’t a common disease. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew people with brain tumors unlikely did this, walk or run an entire day an impossible amount of distance for a human being, take their clothes off and spread them around the trees and wake up in the dirt. This… this was something else. Rachel had never been one interested or intrigued by the supernatural, musical and romance were more her kind of choice, but as she found her backpack after an hour of walking aimlessly through the woods, she was determined to do her research as soon as she walked a few miles to the bus stop and got home.
The memory wasn’t clear, per se, but she remembered more, so much more than the two previous times; bits and pieces of the day and the night, and those were the ones that chilled her bones. From the day, she remembered walking, feeling empowered, being tugged at the waist by something far away. She remembered feeling giddy while she ran, and something about the afternoon made her happy. Then, she ran, and ran, and a blur of green passed through her mind until something happened. Something painful. The next memories were different, although she didn’t exactly know why. She ran and her breathing was jagged, but her head hurt just trying to remember. As she looked out of the window at the passing houses and trees, Rachel remembered making noises no human ever could; a baritone cry that didn’t sound human at all. The sounds echoed in her head, and she couldn’t remember if it was she that was making them, or if there was something else out there.
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Quinn contemplated throwing herself on the river and drown. She contemplated getting home and taking all of her mom’s Prozac along with one of her father’s long forgotten bottles of whisky stored in his closed and dusty study. Maybe, maybe talk with her mother about what was going on, or Ms. Pillsbury, or just go to the hospital. She contemplated all that, but in the end, she knew she was going to swallow it down and keep silent, even if it was eating her inside.
Her muscles ached as she walked, barefoot, along the road, seeing the bus pass by her. She groaned as she realized she would probably have to wait another half hour for the next one. Memories assaulted her, but they weren’t clear. Just blurs of colors and sounds that made her shiver as she tried to shove them to the back of her mind, keep them there so she could forget them.
She got home after noon and took a quick shower. Facing Ms. Sylvester was something she knew she had to do, even if she dreaded it. It was the third month she missed two days of school and, consequentially, Cheerios practice. At least she would go to this afternoon’s practice and make up some excuse about family trouble. She was sure she looked like a mess anyway, so the coach would be able to at least see the stress on her face.
As she walked into McKinley and headed to the teacher’s lunch room, where she knew her coach would be, she tried to control her shallow breathing and her trembling hands, which were post-blackout symptoms. She was surprised to find Rachel standing next to Mr. Schuester’s chair, wearing jeans and a hoodie and with damp hair. She looked exceptionally normal but so pretty, and she caught a portion of their conversation where Rachel apologized for missing yesterday’s Glee rehearsal.
Ms. Sylvester lifted her head from the monthly cheerleader magazine with her face on the cover just enough to get a glimpse of her face before returning to her reading. If she wasn’t going to say anything…
“Ms. Sylvester, I’m sorry for missing practice yesterday and tomorrow morning. I had some trouble at home but I swear to you, it won’t happen again. I promise to give my best at practice this afternoon and hopefully -“
“I know it won’t happen again, Q.” She stated without looking at her.
“It won’t, coach. I promise that -“
“You’re off.” Ms. Sylvester cut in.
“I’m… what?”
“You’re off the squad, Fabray. I can handle neither your irresponsibility nor the excruciating sound of your stretch marks rubbing together. Turn in -“
“Coach, please! I won’t -“
“Turn in your uniform on Monday; I expect it to be dry-cleaned and breast-milk free. No more of this now, go.”
Quinn stood there, gaping, as her coach -former coach, turned back to her magazine as if she hadn’t just thrown her head cheerleader off the squad.
“Quinn…” Rachel said softly, standing a few feet away from her, stretching her arm out.
Humiliation overwhelmed her when she realized she had watched the whole thing and tears threatened to escape.
“I’m sorry I missed practice yesterday too, Mr. Schue.” She said softly as she walked by his table with her head hung and her hair covering her red, tear-tracked face.
She made it to the parking lot before bursting into tears at the hood of her car, covering her face with her hands. Hadn’t she had enough? Couldn’t she have a quiet, normal year after everything that happened last year? Now she was dying or going crazy and she had to be kicked out of the squad, too? Warm arms wrapped around her and she felt a familiar scent wash over her as she hid her face in Rachel’s chest. She cried and sobbed until she felt the brunette palming the pockets of her cheerios jacket and stealing her keys. Rachel maneuvered while holding Quinn with her left arm and opened the driver’s door, pushing the blonde inside and sitting sideways on her lap. Quinn hid her face in the crook of Rachel’s neck, too exhausted and helpless to care, and cried all of her tears as the brunette stroked her hair, shushing her softly next to her ear.
“I’m s-sorry, Rachel.”
“Don’t apologize, Quinn, please. Ms. Sylvester was very cold and cruel, and what she did was very much uncalled for.”
“Yeah.” The blonde sighed, pulling her head back and resting against the seat. She whipped her cheek with her left hand and felt Rachel cup her right cheek, whipping her tears as well. Quinn closed her eyes. “I’m probably overreacting, but I’m just so tired and confused and…” Her whisper trailed off. She had to stop talking before she revealed too much.
“Are you not sleeping well?” Rachel asked softly as her thumb traced the dark bag under her right eye.
Now that she was calmer, Quinn became aware of their closeness and intimate connection. It was comfortable, so comfortable her heart ached, and so she straightened in her seat, hoping Rachel would get the hint and get off of her. The brunette licked her bottom lip and stretched her hands back to the passenger seat, lifting her hips and dragging her legs across Quinn’s lap as she backed away to the other seat. Quinn’s breath hitched and her heart clenched more painfully as Rachel’s heat left her.
“Yeah, I’m not sleeping well.” She breathed out. Her face and body felt too warm, and so she took off her Cheerios jacket and threw it the back seat.
Rachel watched her with a frown, watched the slight tremble in her hands and the way her chest rose and fell with shallow breathing. The marks under her closed eyes were almost purple and a slight sweat glowered in her face and neck, the-
“Quinn, your scar!” Rachel gasped, boldly hooking a finger on the collar of the blonde’s uniform and yanking to expose her shoulder.
Quinn cursed herself mentally when she realized she forgot to put on her winter undershirt or wear a scarf to school. She looked at Rachel, trying not to look bewildered.
“I -I heal fast, and -and my mom gave me this cream -“
“It’s completely healed! No cream or great skin complexion could ever -I mean, not that I’m insinuating that you’re -“
“Rachel, I need to go home.” Quinn’s voice wavered slightly, her hands almost shaking out of control. “I think you should -“
Rachel looked at her with narrowed eyes, mouth slightly agape and shallow breathing. She seemed to carefully select her next words.
“Are you tired?” She asked slowly.
Quinn frowned.
“I already told you -“
“Did you miss school yesterday?”
Her heart missed a beat, why was Rachel asking her…?
“Yeah, yes.”
“Why? …if you don’t mind me intruding.”
“What do you care?” Quinn snapped, then pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Sorry.”
“You seem irritable.” Rachel observed carefully.
Could it be?
“When you’re prodding annoyingly at me, I am!”
The brunette didn’t flinch at the yell.
“Do you have headaches?”
Quinn’s eyes widened. How did she know?
“What are you doing?” She asked warily.
“Quinn, where were you last night?”
Now her eyes were almost out of their sockets. The blonde clenched her hands in her lap and took a deep breath, trying to calm down the pounding of her heart against her ribcage. Rachel didn’t know, she didn’t, it was impossible. What if she walked around town being another person inside her mind and bumped into Rachel? What could she have possibly said? What if she did something…?
“You need to get out.” She whispered.
“Quinn…”
“Please get out.”
“Okay…”
Rachel opened the door and got out of her car as Quinn quickly turned on the engine and backed away slowly. She saw her heaving as she looked through the rearview mirror and drove off.
Turning around, she shoved her still trembling hands inside the front pocket of her hoodie and reminded herself that she didn’t believe in coincidences anymore, not about this. As she walked home, she tried to ignore the ache on the muscles of her legs and thought of what she was going to search that night after dance lessons and dinner with her dads. It was the most ridiculous, impossible thing it had ever occurred to her; but as she thought about what happened with Quinn just minutes ago, it didn’t feel like such a preposterous thing anymore.