Fic: Identity (1/9) Part 2
Quinn sat in Emma’s office, with Rachel in the chair beside her. The silence in the room was nearly total, excepting the ticking of the clock on the wall.
“Wow,” Emma said softly. “Sorry - I’m sorry, that, uh, that wasn’t helpful.”
“Say it a few hundred more times,” Quinn muttered, “and you’ll be where I’m at.”
“Do you know what you’d like to do about the pregnancy?”
“Of course not!” Quinn snapped. “I don’t know who I am, much less who this kid is! Have the cops made any progress with that, by the way?”
“I’m afraid not,” Emma sighed. “Will just got off the phone a few minutes ago - the FBI says there’s no record of a Quinn Fabray on any missing persons report, and no one matching your description either. They’re searching birth records, but that’s going to take some time.”
“How do I not exist anywhere? I didn’t fall out of the damn sky!” she slapped a hand down on her thigh, the crack making everyone jump. “I’ve heard my mother’s voice, in my dreams - she’s got to be looking for me, doesn’t she? I don’t understand how this could be so hard!”
Rachel put a comforting hand on her knee, and Quinn didn’t resist. She sighed, raggedly. “Okay - I’m sorry, I shouldn’t yell at you,” she looked at Emma. “It’s not your fault.”
“It’s okay,” she promised - “I can’t imagine how frustrating this is for you.”
“How long before I have to decide about this?” she gestured at her stomach.
“You’ve got over a month yet before you’ll have to make a decision - in the meantime, though, if there’s any chance at all you’re keeping the baby, you should be taking pre-natal vitamins, and you should probably see a doctor.” She handed Quinn a couple of bright pamphlets from her meticulously organised display.
“We should probably get to class,” Rachel suggested, and Quinn nodded.
“Sure. Thank you, again,” she gave Emma her best attempt at a smile.
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Down the hall, Will was going through his mail and found a fax from the hospital. He winced as he read the itemised list, wondering if Visa would approve an increase to his credit limit - and then his eyebrows shot up as he noticed it was stamped “paid in full.”
Using the office phone, he called the hospital. After an interminable time on hold, he reached the same receptionist he’d spoken to previously. He explained who he was and what he was calling about, and her tone changed immediately, becoming guarded.
“Yes, it’s been paid for.”
“By who?”
“I can’t release that information, sir. In fact, your name has been removed from her file as her next of kin, and that invoice was sent to you in error. If you need any further information, you’ll have to ask Miss Fabray yourself. Thank you for calling.”
The line went dead, and he stared at the receiver, confused.
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“So,” Rachel asked as they left the school, “shopping?”
“Look - I’m grateful to you and your family, I am, but I won’t be a charity case. You don’t have to do all this for me.”
“Nonsense!” Rachel insisted. “Come on - we’ll hit the mall, and grab some supper while we’re there. Do you have that list of vitamins that Miss Pillsbury gave you?” Quinn nodded. “Good. So, I think you should consider trying out for Glee. You’re really very talented.”
Quinn’s head spun at the sudden changes in topic. “Rachel, I’m not a student. We’ve been over this.”
“Right, but if you were to be a student-“
Quinn massaged her temples. “Rachel! Can you wait until I find out who I am before you start enrolling me at your high school?”
“Sorry - I was a bit overzealous, wasn’t I?”
“Little bit - it’s cute, though, how you throw yourself into things,” Quinn grinned.
“New girl!” a shrill shout got Quinn’s attention. She recognised the voice, and wasn’t surprised when Sue stormed over to block their path.
“I thought William told me you’re not enrolled here,” she demanded.
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you on campus? And where are you enrolled?”
“Figgins said she could-“
“So wasn’t talking to you. Blonde girl, those questions were to you.”
“Figgins said I could stay with Rachel for the day.”
“Well, he’s obviously not concerned about your social standing.”
“Hey!” Quinn objected. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“You’re gutsy. I like that. What school do you go to?”
“I don’t, right now.”
“Then you should be enrolling here. And then trying out for the Cheerios. I’ll expect you in by the end of the week.”
Quinn snorted. “You mean the cheerleaders? The ones in the red and white uniforms? Not a chance. Even if I was going here, I’m sure as hell not going to be a cheerleader. I’m not that desperate for attention.”
Sue seethed, but didn’t reply, settling for stalking away instead.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Rachel shuffled her feet, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
“What?”
“Stick up for me with Sue - she’s mean to everyone, and arguing with her is going to get you in trouble.”
“For the third time in ten minutes, I’m not a student!” Quinn insisted. “What’s she going to do to me, give me detention that I won’t show up for? Come on, let’s go shopping.”
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“Santana!” Sue shouted over the noise of practice. “A word! Now!”
“Yeah, coach?” Santana jogged to the sidelines.
“Did you meet the girl who was hanging around with that Berry freak?”
“Quinn? Yeah - she was in Glee today.”
“Who is she?”
“Nobody knows - not even her. She’s, like, lost her memory or something. The cops are trying to figure out who she is.”
“Really?” Sue drummed her fingers on her megaphone. “Did you learn anything about her at Glee Club?”
“She speaks perfect Spanish. And she kind of freaked out when Schuester told her something, but I didn’t hear what it was. That’s about it.”
“Outstanding,” Sue nodded. “If she keeps coming here, I want you to be her friend. Find out everything you can, and report back to me. Now, back to work,” she gestured, and Santana ran back on the field, rejoining practice.
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Rachel tapped her foot impatiently. Quinn had been in the changing room for almost ten minutes, and she couldn’t hear any movement from within. She knocked on the door and it swung open. She gasped and turned away, but not quickly enough to avoid seeing Quinn. She stood in front of the mirror, the dress she’d been trying on pooled at her feet. The sight of her sent a thrill of something she couldn’t identify radiating out from her abdomen and out to every extremity of her body - but the thrill disappeared as her conscious mind kicked in and noted the series of thin scars across most of the girl’s back. They were old - obviously long healed - but they looked like they must have been excruciating wounds.
“Quinn!” Rachel hissed. “Quinn, you need to get dressed!” She’d seen what happened when Will had grabbed her from behind the day before, and decided on a different tack. She stepped into the change room and closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath, then put her mouth next to Quinn’s ear and whispered. “Quinn - you have to get dressed. Quinn, come on.”
Quinn jumped, shaken out of her stupor. “Rachel!” she cried. “What the hell?“
“I’m sorry,” Rachel averted her eyes. “You were in here for a really long time. I tried to call you, but you were just sort of spaced out.”
“Oh. Well, thanks for giving me a nudge. Now, if you could, uh...”
“Leaving right now!” Rachel promised, nearly tripping over herself in her hurry to get out. She made sure the door was closed before she sat down, hard, on the bench next to the change rooms, flushed and breathing heavily.
Quinn emerged, fully dressed, a few minutes later, and studiously avoided meeting Rachel’s eyes. “I think I’ll take this,” she handed Rachel the dress. “I think we’ve got enough now - I just need some underwear. Oh, and the vitamins and stuff - I’m going to find a way to pay you guys back for all of this, I promise.”
“Don’t be silly,” Rachel took the dress and draped it over her arm. “Let’s finish up, and we’ll grab dinner in the food court.”
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“This is so weird,” Quinn muttered. “I’ve heard of all these places, but I don’t know if I’ve ever eaten at any of them.”
“Well,” Rachel smiled, “look at it this way. You get to try them all again, for the first time!”
Quinn chuckled. “You’re kind of - what’s the word - bubbly, aren’t you?”
“I’m a performer, I’m entitled to be theatrical,” Rachel insisted.
“Right. How about-“ the ringing of Rachel’s cell phone startled them.
“Hello?” Rachel listened intently, casting an occasional look at Quinn. “Right - okay, dad, we’ll meet you in the parking lot. Okay, bye. That was my dad,” she explained unnecessarily to Quinn. “The police want to see you - they found something, but they won’t tell him what it was.”
They found James waiting outside the mall entrance, and put their purchases in the trunk of the Berrys’ car. The drive to the police station was quiet - Quinn sat in the back, chewing nervously at her lip and popping her knuckles. James parked out front and led both girls inside, keeping Quinn between himself and Rachel. They reached the front desk and the officer, obviously many years removed from the beat, looked them up and down. “Help you?”
“This is Quinn Fabray,” James explained, “we’re supposed to meet Sergeant Daniels?”
“Oh, right - he said to bring you straight in.” Easing himself up from his chair, he led them down the hall and knocked on a closed office door. “Sergeant?” he called. “The Fabray kid is here to see you.”
“Come in,” a gruff voice answered, and the desk officer ushered them inside. There were only two chairs, so Quinn and James sat, Rachel standing behind Quinn with a steadying hand on her shoulder.
“Hello, Quinn,” Daniels’ voice was softer now. “How are you?”
“I don’t know,” she answered guardedly. “You tell me.”
“Well, there are a few things we need to talk about. We still haven’t got any word from the feds about who exactly you might be, but we’ve uncovered a few items of interest.” He leaned back in his chair. “Firstly, there was a Quinn Fabray born right here in Lima seventeen years ago. But you’re not her.”
“How do you know?”
“She was stillborn. Her parents moved away shortly after, apparently. But that puts my back up a little, I have to confess. See, when people want to make false identities, sometimes they use the name and birth certificate of a child like that. Makes it harder to know they’re fake, off-hand.”
“You’re not suggesting-“ James began, but Quinn cut him off. “A fake identity? You think I’m some kind of identity thief or something?” she nearly vibrated with anger. “I don’t have an identity, how could I be stealing anyone else’s?”
“Relax,” Daniels put a placating hand up. “I’m not suggesting anything. It’s just curious that someone using the same name would turn up right here where she was born. That’s all. I’m trying to contact the Fabrays and see if they can be any help identifying you. But there’s something even odder that turned up.”
“What’s that?” Quinn crossed her arms.
“Well, after we found Quinn Fabray’s birth certificate, we started calling around. Turns out, there’s a bank here in Lima with an open account and a safe deposit box, both in the name of Quinn Fabray. Now, we could get a warrant, get access to the box and the account records, but I wanted to try something else first.” He slid a blank piece of paper across his desk. “Sign this.”
“But-“
“Don’t think about it. Just pick it up and sign your name.”
Quinn exhaled and picked up the pen. At first, nothing would come - and then, like picking up an old habit, she slashed the pen across the page in a series of quick strokes. “There,” she put it down on the desk. “What does that prove?”
“This,” Daniels lay another piece of paper beside it, “is the signature the bank has on file for Quinn Fabray’s account.”
Quinn gasped - they were identical.