Dare to be Aware - Chapter Thirty
Title: Dare to be Aware
Author: Sio & Maura
Rating: Hard NC-17
Length: 145,207
Spoilers: AU
Pairing: Santana/Quinn, past Brittany/Santana, Brittany/Artie mentions, Blaine/Sam, past Quinn/Finn, Quinn/Sam bearding, past Blaine/Kurt
Summary: What does it take to find your own identity? How much pain can you endure in the process?
Warnings (highlight to read): Gender Dysphoria, Violence against Trans, Trans Character, Explicit Sexual Content, Domestic Violence, Graphic Severe Violence, Hospitals, Transitioning, Rough Sex, Potentially dub-con/non-con situations, Abandonment
Chapter 30
Ohio State University. A miserable excuse for a college. He sneered as he turned the corner, reaching up to adjust the hood of his jacket. His daughter would have been better off and happy to attend a fine institution such as Cedarville instead of a irreligious cesspit such as this.
He knew the creature that had stolen her soul was here though.
As he turned the corner, he caught sight of familiar dark blond hair - of course the creature had sullied his daughter's blonde purity by letting those hideous dark roots show - and his eyes narrowed. He stepped back around the corner before it could see him. It wasn't time to take his revenge for his daughter's lost soul yet.
Quinn laughed as he walked with Blaine, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He was coming back from his Introduction to Psychology and the pair had planned to meet up with their respective lovers in the quad.
"That professor is redic..." He shook his head and laughed, "I can't even comprehend half of what he says."
Blaine smirked and rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe if you'd spend the last fifteen minutes of class listening instead of trying to figure out how to get your girlfriend alone," he teased. "At we got the same class. How lucky is that?"
Neither of the boys noticed the glowering man in the grey hooded sweatshirt moving through the crowd behind them. Russell loathed the creature his daughter had become and he vowed, yet again, to remove her sin from the word. He sneered at the back of Blaine's head, stepping into a doorway when the smaller boy turned back to see who was staring at him before shrugging it off. That sinner would be cleansed too, he promised himself.
"Whatever, dude." He smirked and sat down on a bench. "She's sexy." He shoved his text book into his bag. "How's the music major thing going? I don't see you much these days."
Blaine stretched and dropped down onto the bench beside Quinn with a shrug. "It's going. Not like I have a lot of classes that apply to my major yet. Being a freshman kinda sucks. But," he smirked at Quinn, "at least I got my friends, my health and my good looks, right?" He laughed, feeling looser than he had been able to be in high school.
"Totally," He replied, "at least we have an apartment and don't have to share a bathroom with a whole floor." He stated, "I mean between Sam and Santana it feels like it... who knew living with them would be so very messy." Quinn scrunched his face up and looked around. He noticed a lurking figure and shrugged it off as a random upperclassman.
He laughed, "Well, I would have assumed you'd have a pretty good idea since you have been living with Santana for a while now. You two are pretty serious about each other, huh?"
"Yeah... a few months ago her dad gave me an intentions talk." He sighed, "I don't know though... I'm in it. I mean, I love her... but half of me is nervous that she'll find a woman that she likes and leave me." He sighed again. "But I love her."
"Have you tried talking to her?" He shifted on the bench, putting an arm along the back and turning to face Quinn more, "I mean, women kind of love that, Q. Me and Sam... I love him, but we're not tying each other down yet. If we're still together at the end of school, great. But we've talked and we decided that we'd rather split up and see other people for a while if it comes to it rather than screw up our friendship. But we had to talk to figure that out."
"I mean... we've talked," he said. "That's why we broke up a few months back. I just get worried that she's gonna leave." He smiled, "but hey, it's all good right? I just have a bad abandonment issue..."
"Q, I love you better than just about anyone outside of Sam, my mom and my brother, but you're kind of crazy sometimes." Blaine shook his head. "You and Santana didn't break up so much as have a nasty fight and not talk for a few days."
"Yeah, yeah. I don't want to talk about that."
"Yeah, I know," he sighed, leaning back to rest his head on the back of the bench. "For what it's worth, I don't think she'll leave you. I mean, come on, she's pretty hung up on you and you are kind of a stud."
"You know it." He said looking over at the lurking figure.
"What are you staring at anyway?" Blaine asked, turning to look over his shoulder.
Behind the tree a bit away from them, Russell glared at Quinn for a moment before turning away to head back to his car for the long drive to Maryland. It wasn't yet time to deal with the creature and its foul associates. He didn't realize that the sun was angled just right to partially illuminate his face as he moved from under the tree back towards the sidewalk. He glanced back for just a moment, cold dead eyes staring at Quinn hatefully before he vanished into the crowd.
"Um..." His breath was caught, "I think... I saw something."
"What?" he scooted around on the seat to look behind him, frowning slightly. "Huh. I don't see anything now. What was it?"
"My father." He said softly, looking down to his hands, "I've seen him around... never this close." He swallowed, looking away.
"Seriously?" Blaine sat up straighter, looking around and trying to see the man he'd only seen in pictures. "I thought he left town. You think we should call the cops?"
"No help." He sighed, "My sister is married to the police chief in Lima... He's a friend of my father's." He wrung his hands worriedly, "I think he's trying to scare me."
"Crap," he muttered, reaching over to still his hands. "Cut that out, okay? You're safe. You're one hell of a lot stronger than you were the last time he got ahold of you and he'll have to go through Sam and me first, you know that."
"I'm worried he will try to hurt you all... and Santana to get to me." Quinn sighed, "He sold one daughter off and tried to kill me. He's insane and the police can't help me."
"Well, he's not chasing us off," Blaine looked determined. "He tries anything, he's the one who's going to get hurt. Hell, Santana threatened to cut one of Karofsky's nuts off because he was threatening me and Kurt. Imagine what she'd do to Russell if she had Sam and I to pin him down."
"She's kinda crazy and I love it." He smiled, "Alright, we just gotta watch our backs."
"Exactly. And speaking of some lovely backs to watch," Blaine smirked, nodding towards another duo of blonde and brunette crossing the quad towards them. "You want to tell them what you saw or not?"
"No, I don't want to scare San," he said as he stood up to pulled his girlfriend into his arms. "Hi, baby, how was chemistry?"
"About as fun as high school chem," she shrugged, leaning up to kiss him. "We still aren't allowed to blow things up."
"I think the professor would probably like to keep his hair," Sam pointed out with a smirk, only to have Santana look back over her shoulder and stick her tongue out.
Quinn kissed the girl's shoulder. "Please don't get expelled." He smiled, "You need to not get kicked out for burning down the school."
"I don't want to burn the school down just," she pressed her lips together in a smirk and shrugged, "liven things up a little. Speaking of livening things up, are we all still on for that party tonight? I don't know about you, but I's be wanting to get my dance on."
"Sounds cool." Quinn shrugged, "I could use some cheap beer and seeing you be all sexy and crap."
"Oh like you won't dance with me?" Santana teased, dragging a finger down his chest and looking up at him in an attempt at coyness.
Blaine laughed, "Looks like you're dancing tonight, Q."
"Whip-pssh!" Sam grinned making a little cracking motion with his free hand as he wrapped an arm around Blaine's waist.
"Whatever, White Chocolate," Quinn laughed, wrapping his arms around Santana and headed on the ten minute walk back to their apartment. "You're gonna be stripping the minute you get two light beers in you."
Sam frowned. "And that's a problem because...?" He smirked. "You remember what this body looks like, right?" He pulled up his shirt with his free hand, showing off his tight abs, "I'll have people begging me to take it off."
"Stop that!" Blaine exclaimed, slapping his boyfriends hand down. "You're gonna get arrested for indecent exposure."
Quinn laughed and smiled as Santana cuddled into him.
"The only thing indecent is how tight these abs are, babe. OW!" he slapped a hand against his abs with a smirk. "And beside, you like it when I take it all off." He waggled his brows.
"Ew. Okay? Just ew. Too much sausage in that scenario." Santana screwed her face up in a look of disgust, waving them off, "That was almost as bad as turning the corner at McKinley to see the Jolly Green Giant and Hobbit trying to devour each other's tongues like zombies at a competitive eating match."
Quinn laughed hard, "God, that's not a mental image I ever wanted!" He swiped the key fob then pushed the door open. "When's this party?"
"For you it's just a mental image, for me," she grimace and shook her head, "it's reality. Was totally sick. And I mean that in the gross way, not X games." She shrugged, "Seven, though it probably won't get really started until eight. Thank God for Fridays, right?"
"For sure." He smiled and moved into the living room and threw down his bag before flopping on one of the couches.
Ignoring the boys as they piled in behind them, San tossed herself down on the sofa beside Quinn. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow, myself." She smirked up at him, biting her lip before placing a kiss on his thigh inches from his crotch, "The boys being gone all day and no cheerleading or swim practice for us..."
"Naked day." He beamed. "I like naked day," he assured her. "We should go to bed naked and skip the hassle of undressing in the morning."
"After the party?" she questioned with a sly smirk, tracing little patterns on his thigh, "I like that idea, baby. Maybe," she licked her lips, quirking a brow curiously, "even start a little... early?"
"San..." He whispered, watching Sam and Blaine slip into their room. "You're getting me hard."
"Am I really?" she teased, pressing a kiss to the top of his thigh before rolling over to rest her head on his lap and smirk up at him deviously. "Can't have that now. It's too early."
"Cock tease," he smirked, running his fingers through her hair.
She snorted softly, "Tease implies that I'm not going to satisfy later on. Which totally isn't the case. I just wants to get my dance on first and if I get my hands on your dick now, I'm not leaving this apartment until Sunday. Got it?"
"Oh gross," Blaine rolled his eyes, flopping down in the chair as Sam dropped to sit on the floor, leaning back against his legs. "I get you're het, Q, though what a loss, but do you have to rub it in our faces all the time?" He teased with a smirk.
Quinn just rolled his eyes at the boys and kept running his fingers through Santana's hair. "Whatever. I had to deal with the two of you for months before anyone else knew."
"Whatever, man," Sam smirked, "you know you liked it. And it's not like we could exactly be all out and proud with Kurt around doing his best Blair Witch impression."
Santana frowned, sitting up slightly, "Wait, I thought the Blair Witch never showed up in those movies."
Sam laughed, "Exactly. It goes around being all creepy and screwing with you cause it's too chicken to go toe to toe."
"Sam, don't be like that. Kurt," Blaine shrugged, "wasn't that bad..."
"Yes, he was." Quinn sighed, "You still have fuzzy homo-feelings because he took your virginity, but he went crazy. Sam couldn't be your boyfriend because of him and your unwillingness to hurt his feelings."
"I took his too," he pointed out. "I don't know. We were just... bad for each other." He sighed, fingers lightly drifting over Sam's shoulders, "I kept trying to be this gay mentor or something while he pranced about like illegitimate love child of Liberace and Elton John. Between telling me bisexuals don't exist and then not even standing up for Santana when Finn outted her?" He winced and looked at Santana with a pained expression. "Sorry about that, by the way. I should have said something."
Santana shrugged, "Whatever. I'm over it."
"Still not cool," Sam grimaced, reaching over to squeeze her ankle, "I totally would have knocked him on his ass if I'd been there, you know."
"Yeah, I know you got my back, Trouty Mouth," she smirked.
"I'm sorry, San." Quinn sighed, "I should have done more to protect you... I should have been better for you." He looked down and sighed, "I should have stood up for you."
"Babe, we covered this," Santana looked up at him, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair, lightly scratching the back of his neck, "you were in a seriously shitting position and couldn't really do anything. I get it, okay? It's in the past."
He nodded and cuddled into her, "But can we agree that the Hummels and Hudsons are idiots? That they're both emotionally abusive and hate their partners?" he asked, remembering the years he spent with Finn pretending to be the oversized boy's prized girlfriend.
"Depends," Santana smirked up at him with a wicked glint in her eye, "can you finally admit you totally had a crush on the Hobbit? I mean, come on, Fabray, bathroom porn and drawing hearts all over pictures of her in your notebooks? Don't think I didn't see that shit."
He chuckled, "Hey... Maybe I kept thinking her legs were yours." Quinn said, "I like my ladies tan with sexy legs."
"Boy, you'd be dead right now if you'd tried half of the stuff you did to her on me," Santana raised a brow, daring him to argue with her teasing tone. "I'd have buried your ass before you got a second slushie scheduled."
"Whip-pssh!" Sam whispered, cracking his wrist at Quinn with a grin.
"Yeah, but I could have licked it off." He smirked and looked down at her. "And you!" He looked to Sam, "Like you're not dick whipped by Blaine. You do his laundry!"
"Yeah, but I like being dick-whipped," Sam grinned cheekily. "And you remember what happened when I let him do laundry last. It took a week to get everything sorted back out and you still have pink clothes that should be white because of it, remember?"
"Hey," Blaine chided, vaguely trying to defend himself. "I can wash my clothes..."
"Um, no," Santana pointed out, "no, you really can't, Blaine."
Quinn laughed, "You and Blaine just get to look pretty while the men take care of you." He teased, jumping out of the way when Santana slapped his thigh. "Ow, baby! That hurts!"
"I'll give you hurts," Santana growled. "Who do you think does your laundry, hmm? Or did you think your clothing just magically appears in your drawers folded and clean? And Blaine and I do most of the general cleaning in this place so there."
"I know, baby." he smiled, "I love you and you help me so much." he stroked her cheek, "I like making sure you all get good food to keep you strong."
"You're a little shit sometimes," Santana pointed out with a smirk, "but I love you." She leaned up, pulling him down to kiss her.
"Mmhmm," he smiled, tugging her up to let him stretch out on the sofa with her lying on his chest. "Do you guys want dinner before we party tonight?"
"Sure, sounds good to me," Blaine shrugged. "You know I'd never turn down your cooking, Q."
"I have pizza dough." He thought, "Pizza for dinner then we can all head off?"
"Pizza, yes!" Sam cheered, pumping his fist.
"Sounds good, babe." Santana smiled, kissing his shoulder.
"Alright." He said, "I'll do that later." He let a yawn slip out and his arms wrap around San. "Nap?"
"Definitely," she chuckled softly, getting comfortable on top of him. "Got to be rested for tonight."
"Mmhm." He mumbled, "Shut up and sleep." He directed, letting his eyes fall closed.
"Bossy," she chuckled, snuggling into him with a yawn and drifting off to the soft sounds of Blaine and Sam heading to their room.
His hands trembled on the steering wheel as he drove.
He didn't like it. Coming down that is. Hated it, in fact. He needed the boost. Needed to keep up. To keep ahead.
He looked at the rearview. The car had been following him since he crossed the border from West Virgina into Maryland. He rung his hands on the wheel, swallowing harshly. They weren't cops. He knew they weren't. But they were watching him. They were always watching.
Turning onto the gravel road he'd been given directions to when he'd called the number he'd found, the car shimmied on the loose material, sending up short rooster tails of rock that pinged and clanked off the underside of his car when he gunned it to pop himself on the road, the suspension jolting as he bounced down from the pavement. The car went by and he breathed a sigh of relief, but his eyes kept jerking back to the rearview mirror.
He was sweating by the time he pulled up in front of the beat up old house. It'd been too long. He needed more. His hands slipped on the door handle as he tried to open it and he had to scrub his palms off on his sweater before he could shoulder the door open and get out. He looked up at the house and swallowed, nervously patting the roll of bills in his pocket and hoping it would be enough.
Making his way up the battered porch stairs, he knocked on door set in the peeling white frame the way he'd been told. Letting it echo into the house, he stepped back and tried to concentrate on breathing and looking as cool and collected as possible. It wasn't easy.
The door swung open, a man stood there holding a shotgun. "Who the fuck are you?" He spat, the gun starring the older man down.
"I," he blinked wide eyed at the gun, "I'm Russell. I called earlier. Spoke with Tommy. He said I could get some ice here." He noticed his hands shaking as he reached up to wipe some sweat off his forehead and shoved them in his pockets. "I've got cash."
"How do I know you're not a fucking pig?" He asked, poking the man with the gun barrel.
Russell swallowed hard, his eyes going white around the edges as he looked down at the barrel pressing against his chest. "Please," he hated begging, "I need it. Search me if you want. But I need some..."
"Fine." He grunted, "Get your honky ass inside the house and get yo' money out." He said as he headed into the dingy house. "Tommy! You fucking have another God damn crack head here!"
"Meth, Vince, meth head. Not crack." A slim young man slipped out from behind a curtain with a smirk at Russell's trembling form as the older man followed him in. "Crack's got too high of an overhead. You've got to be Russell, right?" He snorted softly, looking him over, "Damn, you weren't kidding when you said you needed some ice."
"Please," Russell fumbled a roll of twenties out of his pocket, "I have things I have to do. Before they catch me. Please."
"Fucker, if you get me and my bro arrested..." The other guy mumbled as he plopped down on the sofa.
Tommy rolled his eyes and pulled out a baggie. "How much you want?"
"How much can I get? There's two hundred here. I have a lot to do. My wife," his eyes narrowed as he remembered Judy laughing at something the big black man she was with the last time he saw her, "betrayed me and needs to be punished before I can destroy the abomination that was my child."
"Fucker, I don't wanna hear your life story." Tommy said as he snatched the money and handing him the baggie. "Get out of my house. I don't wanna know what the fuck you plan on doing."
"You will though," Russell smiled at the bag, licking his lips as he turned to go. "You will."