Everyone Has a Facebook [7/11]
Title: Everyone Has a Facebook
Appearing Characters: The Fabray Family: Russell Fabray, Judy (Hunter) Fabray, Mr. and Mrs. Fabray [Russell's parents], The Eldest Fabray Daughter, Lucy Quinn Fabray
Surviving Hunter Family: Lily Hunter [Judy's younger sister]
Lucy Quinn's Friends: Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, and Brittany Pierce
Rachel's Two Gay Dads: Leroy and Hiram Berry
Pairings: Rachel/Lucy Quinn, side Santana/Brittany, mentions past Rachel/Finn
Rating: PG-13 for now, NC-17 overall
Length: ~30,600 words
Summary: Lucy Quinn Fabray's life has been filled with secrets and forbidden memories. The summer before her senior year she takes it in to her own hands (with a little nudging from one Rachel Berry) to solve the questions that no one will answer. Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce join her in the journey that leads down a path no one expected to a door that will change everything Quinn ever knew about herself.
Author's Note: I'm sorry that I'm not responding to comments, guys. I really and sincerely appreciate all of them but I just don't have time to respond. <3
Previous Chapters: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]
-Chapter 7-
Slowly, Quinn's fingers trailed from the dial to the handle of the safe which turned with ease and the door swung open.
“Someone turn the light on,” Quinn said. “I can't see.”
Rachel immediately jumped up and hit the switch by the closet door, illuminating the space and giving Quinn plenty of light to see the inside of the safe. She furrowed her eyebrows and stretched forward, her hand reaching into the safe and all around. She pulled it back, nothing in it.
The safe was completely empty.
“Damn it!” Quinn screeched. Rachel jumped a little as Quinn shot to her feet and stormed out of her mother's bedroom, headed for her own. She flung the door shut and began pacing the floor, grabbing objects and random and throwing them across the room. Pictures, pillows, a hairbrush...one by one things crashed into the wall, some of them chipping the paint.
Russell had to have the papers, that was the only explanation. Quinn had searched that house up one side and down the other and had found absolutely nothing. When she finally ran out of things to throw she collapsed on her bed and curled around a pillow, clutching the stuffed lamb to her chest.
“I'm not going in there, Berry. You go.”
“Of course I have every intention of going in, Santana. I merely suggested we all go. She needs support.”
“I'm not getting shit thrown at me.”
“I believe the anger has ceased.”
Quinn sighed at the sound of whispers outside of her bedroom door. She didn't respond, only let Rachel and Santana bicker at each other.
“It's her life.”
“Quinn is in need of friends to help her right now. Must I re-explain everything?”
“It's her business if she wants to go chasing after her aunt or whatever. I just wanted dinner.”
“How would you feel if you were in her situation? Scared and with unanswered questions?”
Quinn heard a pause followed by Santana's signature growl.
“I'd stop being a pussy and get some answers. Have you even tried anything other than fucking Google?”
“We're working on it.”
“No, 'working on it' would be busting in to wherever the hell those papers are and getting them. You know what? I'm not screwing around with this.”
Quinn jerked as her bedroom door flung open and Santana marched in, her eyes darting around the bedroom before she grabbed a bag and went to Quinn's closet. Rachel stepped in and moved to the bed, settling on the edge of it and pulling Quinn's head into her lap. Standing nearby, Brittany stared at the pictures on Quinn's dresser.
“Santana! You can't violate her things like that!” Rachel shrieked as Santana started packing Quinn's clothes.
“Shut it, Berry. Go home and pack your shit. We're going on a road trip.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh sweet!” Brittany began bouncing around the room picking up the objects that lay scattered on the floor and tossing them on Quinn's bed. “Come on, Q, road trip! You love road trips.” The blonde landed beside Quinn and flung an arm over her stomach prompting Rachel to scowl a little.
“I don't know,” Quinn whispered.
“The papers are at your dad's house, right? Rach-I mean, the dwarf said since they weren't here that the jerk probably had them. So we gots to get our road trip on. You said he's in like Cleveland or something, right?”
Quinn nodded. “There's some stuff with his address on it.”
“So let's go. Leave your mom a note and tell her you'll be back in a few days.”
“It's a three hour drive,” Rachel said.
“Yeah, so?” Santana tossed the bag of Quinn's clothes on the bed and walked out of the bedroom. “My aunt is in San Diego all summer, we can crash at her place,” the Latina yelled. “She told me to use it whenever.” Santana had armfuls of bathroom things when she returned and tossed them in to Quinn's bag. “I keep a bag packed in my car for me and Brittz for whenever we feel like getting the hell out of here. Let's get your shit, Berry.”
Quinn found herself being pulled up by Brittany and was almost halfway over the blonde's shoulder before she struggled out of her grip. Brittany was smiling when Quinn's feet touched the floor again and her fingers gently touched the ends of Quinn's hair.
“I like this better.”
“Thanks Brittany.”
“Santana wants you to be happy, don't let the bitchiness trick you.”
“Let's go, bitches!”
Quinn gave a small smile and hugged Brittany, letting the blonde squeeze her tight in an almost forgotten embrace that always used to make her feel infinitely better. Brittany hugs were pure and filled with nothing but love, always.
XXXXXXXXXX
“You know if you had just listened to me and gone to pack your shit while I was getting Tubbers ready to go we could've been on the road?”
“It's very important for me to make sure I have all of the necessary-”
“Nevermind, we still wouldn't be on the road.”
“Hmph.”
Brittany had Quinn snuggled in her arms while Santana lounged in Rachel's chair, all of them watching the girl meticulously pack her things, count and re-count to make sure she had plenty of outfits in her garment bag, and then head to the bathroom.
“Your girlfriend needs to hurry her ass up.”
“She'll be ready soon.”
“When did you get all soft, Fabray?”
Quinn snorted. “Speak for yourself. Why are you doing this?”
“Because I know if you keep relying on Streisand that you'll never get anywhere.”
“And how would this affect you?”
“I don't need your crying, sobbing ass getting snot all over me again. And you can't go any shorter with your hair before the golf team starts recruiting you.”
“Can't you just admit that you're doing it to help me?”
Santana's eyes shifted and she squirmed a little in her seat bringing a smile to Quinn's face. She knew she had the Latina cornered.
“Okay listen,” Santana said, leaning forward, “this doesn't leave this room, okay? I like you, Fabray. Sure you're a bitch and you ratted me out but whatever, we settled that. You're my best friend and I'd do anything for you. I don't want you going through all this shit to get to whatever the hell will make you happy. Quickest way to point B is a straight line and I'm getting your ass there.”
“But you're lebanese.”
“Britt, that's not the...whatever.”
“That's incredibly sweet, Santana,” Rachel said from the bathroom door, a wide grin splitting her face. “I always knew that somewhere in your ice-encapsulated heart you had a soft spot.”
Quinn could only grin when Santana tossed a stuffed animal in Rachel's direction.
“Shut up, Berry.”
“Well ladies, shall we, as Santana would say, 'get our road trip on'?”
“I know I'm hot and whatever but there's no way you could ever pull off Lima Heights Adjacent.”
“S...”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Whatever. Let's bust outta here.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“A...Appliance!”
“We're not even out of the city limits, Berry.”
“B...Me.”
“Britt-”
“C...Santana is a cu-”
“Oh come on Fabray!”
XXXXXXXXXX
Quinn stared out the window, watching other cars go by as Santana sped toward Cleveland on I-71 after stopping in Upper Sandusky to get snacks and gas up the car. Rachel was snoring with her head on Quinn's lap (she could've sworn she saw Santana buy Dramamine at the truck stop) and Brittany had her iPod buds in her ears, a book on her lap. They'd played two rounds of the Alphabet Game and were in the middle of a third when Rachel had passed out and the car got suddenly quieter.
“What's she reading?” Quinn finally asked to break the silence. Santana had tried for fifteen minutes to find a good radio station but gave up when she almost swerved into a semi.
“Harry Potter. For the millionth time. She's still waiting on her acceptance letter.”
“Explains why she went as Luna for Halloween freshman year.”
“She's convinced they're related.”
“Hm.” Quinn nodded and rested her head back on the glass, her eyes darting to each of the cars coming toward them on the opposite side of the highway.
“What's with this woman, Q? Why find her? She hasn't tried to find you.”
“I don't know,” Quinn sighed. “There's just something about her. It's like she'll be able to answer everything I don't know about myself.”
“What's there to explain? You're Quinn Fabray.”
“She's the only one that will tell me about Lucy.”
“Still not getting it.”
“You should. You're an expert in not knowing who you are.” Quinn darted her eyes up to look in the rearview mirror and meet Santana's.
“No, I'm an expert in not admitting who I am.”
“It's not like everyone doesn't already know.”
“Yeah, but if I don't admit it they they don't know for sure. Are you going to walk down the halls when school starts and tell everyone you're messing around with Rachel?”
Quinn didn't have a response for that. Her mother, Santana, and Brittany were one thing. The whole school was a completely different thing. She turned her head to look down at Rachel, who was not looking her most attractive with drool trickling out of one corner of her mouth and onto the small travel pillow on Quinn's lap. Right then it didn't matter. Rachel was there for her.
“I thought so.”
“I think Lord Tubbington might be an animagus.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“Lucy Q, are we there yet?”
“Lucy Q? Oh my God, that is so fucking lame.”
“Shut it, Santana. Rachel, go back to sleep.”
“Mkay.”
“Rachel has wrackspurts.”
XXXXXXXXXX
It had begun to rain by the time they saw the Cleveland skyline. Drops of water pelted Santana's car and Brittany tried to count them before giving up and slipping her hand into Santana's. Rachel finally woke up, her eyes droopy and drool still on the corner of her mouth when she sat up. Quinn carefully picked the pillow up by its corner and handed it over to her girlfriend.
“I guess this explains why you always have new pillowcases.”
“I'm highly embarrassed by this,” Rachel mumbled. “I feel as though I've been drugged.”
“It's just Dramamine.”
“Santana!”
“Calm yourself, Fabray. I didn't want her getting sick and puking all over my car. You don't think I noticed her turning green and locking herself in the airplane bathroom after we took off?”
“While I appreciate your concern, Santana,” Rachel said, “I would like it if you had told me you were going to drug me.”
“It's not my fault you didn't notice it with the Tylenol.”
“Hmph.”
They arrived at Santana's aunt's apartment complex as the worst of the storm began passing overhead. Luckily the complex had a parking garage and Santana navigated her way up to the second level and the spot next to her aunt's little blue sport car. Rachel practically dragged her bag across the ground to the building entrance.
It wasn't a huge apartment but it was a roof over their heads for a couple of nights.
“Brittz and I get the bed. You two figure out whatever. I think the couch pulls out.”
“I vote that since we plan on staying for two nights that we alternate,” Rachel said, a yawn escaping from her lips. “Tonight you two can have the bed and Quinn and I will have the pullout. Tomorrow night, we switch.”
“Or, I do whats I wants since this is my aunt's place.”
“There's no food in here,” Brittany called from the kitchen. “Should we go shopping?”
“I believe that is highly advisable. I saw a small grocery store on our way here, just a couple of blocks down.”
“I'm not going back out there,” Santana scoffed. The Latina dropped to the couch and grabbed the remote to start flipping through channels on TV before settling on Lockup Raw.
“That's barbaric,” Rachel noted, pointing at a scene of two prison inmates fighting. “Why would anyone film this? Is this real?” The short brunette dropped to the floor, eyes fixated on the television. “Is that a SWAT team? What's this? Cell extraction? What does that mean?”
“We'll go!” Brittany grabbed her jacket in one hand and Quinn's arm in the other. Quinn had no chance to protest before she was pulled out the door and down a hallway to a set of stairs. Simultaneously trying to put her jacket on and keeping up with Brittany almost caused her to fall down the stairs but Quinn made it out relatively unscathed.
“It's this way,” Brittany said, grabbing Quinn's arm again and pulling her down the street. It wasn't pouring down rain anymore but Quinn really would've liked an umbrella. Brittany, however, was content to literally skip down the street.
“Brit, slow down!”
“I know you can run, come on!”
Quinn rolled her eyes and jogged to keep up with her friend, having to skid to a halt when Brittany suddenly turned into the small shop that Rachel had mentioned. Brittany grabbed a cart and promptly climbed into the basket leaving Quinn to push.
“So what's so important?”
“Hm?”
“Important. About your aunt.”
“I just want to ask her some questions.”
“I get that.”
Quinn slowly walked through the aisles, Brittany grabbed whatever she could reach which mostly ended up being macaroni and cheese, lunchables, fruit snacks, and goldfish.
“What do you want to find out? Like, what are you going to ask? I took journalism, I could help with the questions.”
“I don't really know,” Quinn sighed. She grabbed a few bags of lettuce and some dressing she'd seen in the Berry's refrigerator for Rachel. There wasn't much of a selection of vegan food but Quinn did her best.
“What do you think was in the safe?”
“I don't know that, either.”
“We'll find out.”
“I hope so.”
“We will. Santana won't give up.”
Brittany climbed out of the cart and pulled it toward the registers leaving Quinn to shake her head and smile. The blonde pulled out a credit card and swiped it to pay for the food and they each grabbed armfuls of bags. It had almost quit raining by the time they got out of the store and so they took their time walking the path back to the apartment building.
When the pair arrived back at the apartment they found Rachel still sitting on the floor with her eyes glued to the TV and Santana asleep on the couch. There was still the prison show on TV.
“Rachel...”
“It's like an entirely different world, Quinn! These prisoners, they have their own systems and cultures...it's extremely fascinating.”
“Right. I'm going to put the food away.”
“And people say I'm the weird one.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“This is really disturbing. Don't they know how to be quiet?”
“Nope. You'll get used to it.”
“How does one get used to the sound of their two best friends having intercourse in the next room?”
“At least they're not in here with us.”
“You make an excellent point.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“Wake up, bitches. We have staking out to do!”
Quinn groaned when the sound of Santana's voice carried through the apartment. There was a spring in her back and Rachel's chin digging into her collarbone. She prayed that Rachel hadn't drooled that night. Lucky for her, when Rachel shifted there was no sign of saliva anywhere on her.
“Someone kept us up all night,” Rachel growled.
“Shoulda picked up earplugs. Someone cook breakfast, will you?”
Knowing it was up to her, Quinn rolled out of bed and padded to the kitchen to start eggs and vegan egg substitute. Brittany helped Rachel pack bag lunches and snacks for the stake out of the Fabray house; Santana grabbed a GPS from her aunt's kitchen and let Quinn program in the address she'd found on a few papers her mother had left on the kitchen island.
It took twenty minutes and two wrong turns to get to Russell Fabray's new house. It wasn't as extravagant as the old Fabray house but it still screamed “look at how much money I have”. Santana parked her car across the street, pulled out a pair of binoculars from her glovebox, and the foursome waited to see some kind of movement.
“He should be at work,” Quinn said. “I don't know about his girlfriend.”
“We'll just wait and see,” Rachel said. “Patience is a virtue.”
It only took an hour for them to figure out that Russell's girlfriend was home. Brittany spotted her in an upstairs window talking on the phone.
“Now what?” Quinn growled, crossing her arms over her chest and throwing her head back. “We can't go inside.”
“We'll see if she leaves,” Santana said, taking the binoculars from Brittany. “She looks younger than your sister, Q. Nasty.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“A...This delicious red apple!”
“Don't make me drug you again, Berry.”
XXXXXXXXXX
Four hours in to the stakeout the moment the foursome was waiting for finally came. The garage door opened and a silver sports car backed out of the driveway. A glimpse showed an empty garage which meant that Russell had in fact been at work and now his mistress was leaving the house empty. All four girls ducked down in their seats until the woman sped away.
“Let's go,” Santana ordered, grabbing her purse.
Quinn quickly looked around as they darted across the street, searching for any sign of anyone watching them. She followed Santana and Brittany, Rachel gripping on to the back of her shirt, as they walked around the back of the house to search for an open window.
“It's the middle of summer,” Rachel whispered, “no one will have windows open in this weather.”
“Check the sliding door on the balcony. He never left the old one locked.”
Once again checking to make sure no one was watching, they slipped up the steps of the back deck to the doors leading to the master suite from the outside. Santana checked the door and, true to history, it was unlocked.
“Stupid prick,” Santana mumbled. “Smurf, stay here. Britt, go to a front window. Q and I will check the house.”
“Should we have code names?”
“No B, just...just go look out.”
Quinn followed Santana around the master suite, looking for any clues. Santana ducked down to check under the bed, Quinn went through the closet. While Santana rummaged through the dresser drawers, Quinn crept down the hallway and opened doors until she found her father's study.
“Santana! Come help me!”
In a split second, Santana was in the study and going through shelves while Quinn went through the desk. Just as Santana opened the closet door, Quinn's fingers touched an envelope that looked scarily familiar. The feel of the paper underneath her fingertips sent a chill up Quinn's spine. She picked the thick envelope up slowly and her heart jumped up in her throat when she saw on the front in thick, red letters the word “CONFIDENTIAL”.
“S-Santana.”
“What?”
“I found it,” Quinn choked. “I found it.”
“Good, let's get the hell out of here.”
“San! Quinn! She's here! She's back!”
“Shit!” Quinn hissed. She slammed the desk drawer shut and followed Santana out of the room and back down the hall to the master bedroom.
“She came to the front door,” Brittany said. “What now?”
“We have to get out,” Quinn whispered.
The telltale sign of a door slam was completely absent, panicking Quinn. She pushed past Brittany and Santana to peer over the railing. The angle was just right where she could see the woman dig through her bag and then stomp her foot. There was a set of keys hanging right by the front door.
“I think she forgot her keys,” Quinn said. “She's going back to the car.”
“Close call,” Santana mumbled. “Let's get out of here.”
“The call just got closer,” Rachel hissed. “She's coming this way!”
Quinn didn't even think, she just darted down the hallway with the paper packet in her arms. She heard Rachel shut the sliding door and the patter of feet following her. The foursome ended up in a spare bedroom, luckily there was a window to the front of the house with a perfect view of the driveway where the car was still parked.
“Get your keys, bitch,” Santana mumbled.
It was a draw, it was like she had to do it. Quinn gravitated toward the door and quietly turned the handle to peer out into the hallway.
“Lucy Q! Get back here!”
“Shhh!” Quinn swatted at Rachel's hand and crept down the hallway where she heard rustling around downstairs. When she reached the second floor banister she crouched down low and crawled until she saw a head of hair moving around. The woman's hair was jet black with bright pink streaks. She was wearing a black tanktop and ripped jeans with tattoos covering her arms.
There was a creak behind her and Quinn froze when the woman a floor down froze as well and peered up to the second story. She wasn't sure how she ended up back in the spare bedroom but she had gotten there in a hurry.
“Russell?” a voice called. “Lola? Are you in today?”
“Lola?” Santana mouthed.
Quinn shrugged.
“Oh God,” Rachel choked. “Oh God, Quinn. Quinn, I can't go to prison. I can't. Women's prisons aren't a walk in the park, you know? I saw it on Lockup...Th-they probably wouldn't let me sing. The bathrooms were terrible. They have no vegan meals! We have to get out of here.”
“Be quiet, dwarf!”
“You didn't see the things I saw, Santana! It was horrible!”
Quinn spared Rachel from physical harm by clapping an hand over the girl's mouth and silently pleading for her to be quiet. Rachel finally stopped hyperventilating and Quinn let go of her girlfriend to turn her attention back to the door. The front door slam made her jump but other than that, no one dared move.
“Someone has to go check,” Quinn whispered.
It was Santana who moved first, peering out of the second story window and breathing a sigh of relief.
“Car's gone,” Santana said. “Let's get the hell out of here.”
“I couldn't agree more,” Rachel said. It took Quinn jogging to keep up with her to get back to the master bedroom and out the sliding glass door.
“Ay dios mio,” Santana hissed, slamming the car door. “That was too close. So what the hell is in that?”
Quinn pulled the envelope close to her chest and shrugged. “I don't know.”
“Is it a bird?”
“Just open it, Lucy Q.”
“I will...just...give me some time.”
Santana shrugged and started the car, taking the path back to her aunt's apartment complex. Quinn never let the papers go, simply held them to her chest and stared out the window to watch the buildings go by. The envelope that could answer her questions felt like a weight holding her down. Her heart beat against it, she swore she could practically feel it moving.
“I know it's nerve wracking,” Rachel said. “Whenever you're ready.”
Quinn let herself be led from the car to the apartment when Santana parked in the garage; the world around her was hazy except for the envelope still held tight to her chest. She dropped to the center of the couch with Rachel on one side of her, Santana on the other, and Brittany climbed up on the back of the couch with one knee on either side of Quinn's shoulders, peering down her front.
It felt like tearing a part of herself away but Quinn knew that she had to do it right then or it would never be done. She pulled the envelope away from her chest and flipped it to the back side. The packing tape was still there, just as it had been years before. Her fingers fumbled for a moment before getting it open and slipping open the flap. Before she could reach in to pull out the papers, a smaller sheet slipped out and landed on the coffee table.
“It's your birth certificate,” Rachel whispered. “Oh my God.”
Appearing Characters: The Fabray Family: Russell Fabray, Judy (Hunter) Fabray, Mr. and Mrs. Fabray [Russell's parents], The Eldest Fabray Daughter, Lucy Quinn Fabray
Surviving Hunter Family: Lily Hunter [Judy's younger sister]
Lucy Quinn's Friends: Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, and Brittany Pierce
Rachel's Two Gay Dads: Leroy and Hiram Berry
Pairings: Rachel/Lucy Quinn, side Santana/Brittany, mentions past Rachel/Finn
Rating: PG-13 for now, NC-17 overall
Length: ~30,600 words
Summary: Lucy Quinn Fabray's life has been filled with secrets and forbidden memories. The summer before her senior year she takes it in to her own hands (with a little nudging from one Rachel Berry) to solve the questions that no one will answer. Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce join her in the journey that leads down a path no one expected to a door that will change everything Quinn ever knew about herself.
Author's Note: I'm sorry that I'm not responding to comments, guys. I really and sincerely appreciate all of them but I just don't have time to respond. <3
Previous Chapters: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]
-Chapter 7-
Slowly, Quinn's fingers trailed from the dial to the handle of the safe which turned with ease and the door swung open.
“Someone turn the light on,” Quinn said. “I can't see.”
Rachel immediately jumped up and hit the switch by the closet door, illuminating the space and giving Quinn plenty of light to see the inside of the safe. She furrowed her eyebrows and stretched forward, her hand reaching into the safe and all around. She pulled it back, nothing in it.
The safe was completely empty.
“Damn it!” Quinn screeched. Rachel jumped a little as Quinn shot to her feet and stormed out of her mother's bedroom, headed for her own. She flung the door shut and began pacing the floor, grabbing objects and random and throwing them across the room. Pictures, pillows, a hairbrush...one by one things crashed into the wall, some of them chipping the paint.
Russell had to have the papers, that was the only explanation. Quinn had searched that house up one side and down the other and had found absolutely nothing. When she finally ran out of things to throw she collapsed on her bed and curled around a pillow, clutching the stuffed lamb to her chest.
“I'm not going in there, Berry. You go.”
“Of course I have every intention of going in, Santana. I merely suggested we all go. She needs support.”
“I'm not getting shit thrown at me.”
“I believe the anger has ceased.”
Quinn sighed at the sound of whispers outside of her bedroom door. She didn't respond, only let Rachel and Santana bicker at each other.
“It's her life.”
“Quinn is in need of friends to help her right now. Must I re-explain everything?”
“It's her business if she wants to go chasing after her aunt or whatever. I just wanted dinner.”
“How would you feel if you were in her situation? Scared and with unanswered questions?”
Quinn heard a pause followed by Santana's signature growl.
“I'd stop being a pussy and get some answers. Have you even tried anything other than fucking Google?”
“We're working on it.”
“No, 'working on it' would be busting in to wherever the hell those papers are and getting them. You know what? I'm not screwing around with this.”
Quinn jerked as her bedroom door flung open and Santana marched in, her eyes darting around the bedroom before she grabbed a bag and went to Quinn's closet. Rachel stepped in and moved to the bed, settling on the edge of it and pulling Quinn's head into her lap. Standing nearby, Brittany stared at the pictures on Quinn's dresser.
“Santana! You can't violate her things like that!” Rachel shrieked as Santana started packing Quinn's clothes.
“Shut it, Berry. Go home and pack your shit. We're going on a road trip.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh sweet!” Brittany began bouncing around the room picking up the objects that lay scattered on the floor and tossing them on Quinn's bed. “Come on, Q, road trip! You love road trips.” The blonde landed beside Quinn and flung an arm over her stomach prompting Rachel to scowl a little.
“I don't know,” Quinn whispered.
“The papers are at your dad's house, right? Rach-I mean, the dwarf said since they weren't here that the jerk probably had them. So we gots to get our road trip on. You said he's in like Cleveland or something, right?”
Quinn nodded. “There's some stuff with his address on it.”
“So let's go. Leave your mom a note and tell her you'll be back in a few days.”
“It's a three hour drive,” Rachel said.
“Yeah, so?” Santana tossed the bag of Quinn's clothes on the bed and walked out of the bedroom. “My aunt is in San Diego all summer, we can crash at her place,” the Latina yelled. “She told me to use it whenever.” Santana had armfuls of bathroom things when she returned and tossed them in to Quinn's bag. “I keep a bag packed in my car for me and Brittz for whenever we feel like getting the hell out of here. Let's get your shit, Berry.”
Quinn found herself being pulled up by Brittany and was almost halfway over the blonde's shoulder before she struggled out of her grip. Brittany was smiling when Quinn's feet touched the floor again and her fingers gently touched the ends of Quinn's hair.
“I like this better.”
“Thanks Brittany.”
“Santana wants you to be happy, don't let the bitchiness trick you.”
“Let's go, bitches!”
Quinn gave a small smile and hugged Brittany, letting the blonde squeeze her tight in an almost forgotten embrace that always used to make her feel infinitely better. Brittany hugs were pure and filled with nothing but love, always.
XXXXXXXXXX
“You know if you had just listened to me and gone to pack your shit while I was getting Tubbers ready to go we could've been on the road?”
“It's very important for me to make sure I have all of the necessary-”
“Nevermind, we still wouldn't be on the road.”
“Hmph.”
Brittany had Quinn snuggled in her arms while Santana lounged in Rachel's chair, all of them watching the girl meticulously pack her things, count and re-count to make sure she had plenty of outfits in her garment bag, and then head to the bathroom.
“Your girlfriend needs to hurry her ass up.”
“She'll be ready soon.”
“When did you get all soft, Fabray?”
Quinn snorted. “Speak for yourself. Why are you doing this?”
“Because I know if you keep relying on Streisand that you'll never get anywhere.”
“And how would this affect you?”
“I don't need your crying, sobbing ass getting snot all over me again. And you can't go any shorter with your hair before the golf team starts recruiting you.”
“Can't you just admit that you're doing it to help me?”
Santana's eyes shifted and she squirmed a little in her seat bringing a smile to Quinn's face. She knew she had the Latina cornered.
“Okay listen,” Santana said, leaning forward, “this doesn't leave this room, okay? I like you, Fabray. Sure you're a bitch and you ratted me out but whatever, we settled that. You're my best friend and I'd do anything for you. I don't want you going through all this shit to get to whatever the hell will make you happy. Quickest way to point B is a straight line and I'm getting your ass there.”
“But you're lebanese.”
“Britt, that's not the...whatever.”
“That's incredibly sweet, Santana,” Rachel said from the bathroom door, a wide grin splitting her face. “I always knew that somewhere in your ice-encapsulated heart you had a soft spot.”
Quinn could only grin when Santana tossed a stuffed animal in Rachel's direction.
“Shut up, Berry.”
“Well ladies, shall we, as Santana would say, 'get our road trip on'?”
“I know I'm hot and whatever but there's no way you could ever pull off Lima Heights Adjacent.”
“S...”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Whatever. Let's bust outta here.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“A...Appliance!”
“We're not even out of the city limits, Berry.”
“B...Me.”
“Britt-”
“C...Santana is a cu-”
“Oh come on Fabray!”
XXXXXXXXXX
Quinn stared out the window, watching other cars go by as Santana sped toward Cleveland on I-71 after stopping in Upper Sandusky to get snacks and gas up the car. Rachel was snoring with her head on Quinn's lap (she could've sworn she saw Santana buy Dramamine at the truck stop) and Brittany had her iPod buds in her ears, a book on her lap. They'd played two rounds of the Alphabet Game and were in the middle of a third when Rachel had passed out and the car got suddenly quieter.
“What's she reading?” Quinn finally asked to break the silence. Santana had tried for fifteen minutes to find a good radio station but gave up when she almost swerved into a semi.
“Harry Potter. For the millionth time. She's still waiting on her acceptance letter.”
“Explains why she went as Luna for Halloween freshman year.”
“She's convinced they're related.”
“Hm.” Quinn nodded and rested her head back on the glass, her eyes darting to each of the cars coming toward them on the opposite side of the highway.
“What's with this woman, Q? Why find her? She hasn't tried to find you.”
“I don't know,” Quinn sighed. “There's just something about her. It's like she'll be able to answer everything I don't know about myself.”
“What's there to explain? You're Quinn Fabray.”
“She's the only one that will tell me about Lucy.”
“Still not getting it.”
“You should. You're an expert in not knowing who you are.” Quinn darted her eyes up to look in the rearview mirror and meet Santana's.
“No, I'm an expert in not admitting who I am.”
“It's not like everyone doesn't already know.”
“Yeah, but if I don't admit it they they don't know for sure. Are you going to walk down the halls when school starts and tell everyone you're messing around with Rachel?”
Quinn didn't have a response for that. Her mother, Santana, and Brittany were one thing. The whole school was a completely different thing. She turned her head to look down at Rachel, who was not looking her most attractive with drool trickling out of one corner of her mouth and onto the small travel pillow on Quinn's lap. Right then it didn't matter. Rachel was there for her.
“I thought so.”
“I think Lord Tubbington might be an animagus.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“Lucy Q, are we there yet?”
“Lucy Q? Oh my God, that is so fucking lame.”
“Shut it, Santana. Rachel, go back to sleep.”
“Mkay.”
“Rachel has wrackspurts.”
XXXXXXXXXX
It had begun to rain by the time they saw the Cleveland skyline. Drops of water pelted Santana's car and Brittany tried to count them before giving up and slipping her hand into Santana's. Rachel finally woke up, her eyes droopy and drool still on the corner of her mouth when she sat up. Quinn carefully picked the pillow up by its corner and handed it over to her girlfriend.
“I guess this explains why you always have new pillowcases.”
“I'm highly embarrassed by this,” Rachel mumbled. “I feel as though I've been drugged.”
“It's just Dramamine.”
“Santana!”
“Calm yourself, Fabray. I didn't want her getting sick and puking all over my car. You don't think I noticed her turning green and locking herself in the airplane bathroom after we took off?”
“While I appreciate your concern, Santana,” Rachel said, “I would like it if you had told me you were going to drug me.”
“It's not my fault you didn't notice it with the Tylenol.”
“Hmph.”
They arrived at Santana's aunt's apartment complex as the worst of the storm began passing overhead. Luckily the complex had a parking garage and Santana navigated her way up to the second level and the spot next to her aunt's little blue sport car. Rachel practically dragged her bag across the ground to the building entrance.
It wasn't a huge apartment but it was a roof over their heads for a couple of nights.
“Brittz and I get the bed. You two figure out whatever. I think the couch pulls out.”
“I vote that since we plan on staying for two nights that we alternate,” Rachel said, a yawn escaping from her lips. “Tonight you two can have the bed and Quinn and I will have the pullout. Tomorrow night, we switch.”
“Or, I do whats I wants since this is my aunt's place.”
“There's no food in here,” Brittany called from the kitchen. “Should we go shopping?”
“I believe that is highly advisable. I saw a small grocery store on our way here, just a couple of blocks down.”
“I'm not going back out there,” Santana scoffed. The Latina dropped to the couch and grabbed the remote to start flipping through channels on TV before settling on Lockup Raw.
“That's barbaric,” Rachel noted, pointing at a scene of two prison inmates fighting. “Why would anyone film this? Is this real?” The short brunette dropped to the floor, eyes fixated on the television. “Is that a SWAT team? What's this? Cell extraction? What does that mean?”
“We'll go!” Brittany grabbed her jacket in one hand and Quinn's arm in the other. Quinn had no chance to protest before she was pulled out the door and down a hallway to a set of stairs. Simultaneously trying to put her jacket on and keeping up with Brittany almost caused her to fall down the stairs but Quinn made it out relatively unscathed.
“It's this way,” Brittany said, grabbing Quinn's arm again and pulling her down the street. It wasn't pouring down rain anymore but Quinn really would've liked an umbrella. Brittany, however, was content to literally skip down the street.
“Brit, slow down!”
“I know you can run, come on!”
Quinn rolled her eyes and jogged to keep up with her friend, having to skid to a halt when Brittany suddenly turned into the small shop that Rachel had mentioned. Brittany grabbed a cart and promptly climbed into the basket leaving Quinn to push.
“So what's so important?”
“Hm?”
“Important. About your aunt.”
“I just want to ask her some questions.”
“I get that.”
Quinn slowly walked through the aisles, Brittany grabbed whatever she could reach which mostly ended up being macaroni and cheese, lunchables, fruit snacks, and goldfish.
“What do you want to find out? Like, what are you going to ask? I took journalism, I could help with the questions.”
“I don't really know,” Quinn sighed. She grabbed a few bags of lettuce and some dressing she'd seen in the Berry's refrigerator for Rachel. There wasn't much of a selection of vegan food but Quinn did her best.
“What do you think was in the safe?”
“I don't know that, either.”
“We'll find out.”
“I hope so.”
“We will. Santana won't give up.”
Brittany climbed out of the cart and pulled it toward the registers leaving Quinn to shake her head and smile. The blonde pulled out a credit card and swiped it to pay for the food and they each grabbed armfuls of bags. It had almost quit raining by the time they got out of the store and so they took their time walking the path back to the apartment building.
When the pair arrived back at the apartment they found Rachel still sitting on the floor with her eyes glued to the TV and Santana asleep on the couch. There was still the prison show on TV.
“Rachel...”
“It's like an entirely different world, Quinn! These prisoners, they have their own systems and cultures...it's extremely fascinating.”
“Right. I'm going to put the food away.”
“And people say I'm the weird one.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“This is really disturbing. Don't they know how to be quiet?”
“Nope. You'll get used to it.”
“How does one get used to the sound of their two best friends having intercourse in the next room?”
“At least they're not in here with us.”
“You make an excellent point.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“Wake up, bitches. We have staking out to do!”
Quinn groaned when the sound of Santana's voice carried through the apartment. There was a spring in her back and Rachel's chin digging into her collarbone. She prayed that Rachel hadn't drooled that night. Lucky for her, when Rachel shifted there was no sign of saliva anywhere on her.
“Someone kept us up all night,” Rachel growled.
“Shoulda picked up earplugs. Someone cook breakfast, will you?”
Knowing it was up to her, Quinn rolled out of bed and padded to the kitchen to start eggs and vegan egg substitute. Brittany helped Rachel pack bag lunches and snacks for the stake out of the Fabray house; Santana grabbed a GPS from her aunt's kitchen and let Quinn program in the address she'd found on a few papers her mother had left on the kitchen island.
It took twenty minutes and two wrong turns to get to Russell Fabray's new house. It wasn't as extravagant as the old Fabray house but it still screamed “look at how much money I have”. Santana parked her car across the street, pulled out a pair of binoculars from her glovebox, and the foursome waited to see some kind of movement.
“He should be at work,” Quinn said. “I don't know about his girlfriend.”
“We'll just wait and see,” Rachel said. “Patience is a virtue.”
It only took an hour for them to figure out that Russell's girlfriend was home. Brittany spotted her in an upstairs window talking on the phone.
“Now what?” Quinn growled, crossing her arms over her chest and throwing her head back. “We can't go inside.”
“We'll see if she leaves,” Santana said, taking the binoculars from Brittany. “She looks younger than your sister, Q. Nasty.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“A...This delicious red apple!”
“Don't make me drug you again, Berry.”
XXXXXXXXXX
Four hours in to the stakeout the moment the foursome was waiting for finally came. The garage door opened and a silver sports car backed out of the driveway. A glimpse showed an empty garage which meant that Russell had in fact been at work and now his mistress was leaving the house empty. All four girls ducked down in their seats until the woman sped away.
“Let's go,” Santana ordered, grabbing her purse.
Quinn quickly looked around as they darted across the street, searching for any sign of anyone watching them. She followed Santana and Brittany, Rachel gripping on to the back of her shirt, as they walked around the back of the house to search for an open window.
“It's the middle of summer,” Rachel whispered, “no one will have windows open in this weather.”
“Check the sliding door on the balcony. He never left the old one locked.”
Once again checking to make sure no one was watching, they slipped up the steps of the back deck to the doors leading to the master suite from the outside. Santana checked the door and, true to history, it was unlocked.
“Stupid prick,” Santana mumbled. “Smurf, stay here. Britt, go to a front window. Q and I will check the house.”
“Should we have code names?”
“No B, just...just go look out.”
Quinn followed Santana around the master suite, looking for any clues. Santana ducked down to check under the bed, Quinn went through the closet. While Santana rummaged through the dresser drawers, Quinn crept down the hallway and opened doors until she found her father's study.
“Santana! Come help me!”
In a split second, Santana was in the study and going through shelves while Quinn went through the desk. Just as Santana opened the closet door, Quinn's fingers touched an envelope that looked scarily familiar. The feel of the paper underneath her fingertips sent a chill up Quinn's spine. She picked the thick envelope up slowly and her heart jumped up in her throat when she saw on the front in thick, red letters the word “CONFIDENTIAL”.
“S-Santana.”
“What?”
“I found it,” Quinn choked. “I found it.”
“Good, let's get the hell out of here.”
“San! Quinn! She's here! She's back!”
“Shit!” Quinn hissed. She slammed the desk drawer shut and followed Santana out of the room and back down the hall to the master bedroom.
“She came to the front door,” Brittany said. “What now?”
“We have to get out,” Quinn whispered.
The telltale sign of a door slam was completely absent, panicking Quinn. She pushed past Brittany and Santana to peer over the railing. The angle was just right where she could see the woman dig through her bag and then stomp her foot. There was a set of keys hanging right by the front door.
“I think she forgot her keys,” Quinn said. “She's going back to the car.”
“Close call,” Santana mumbled. “Let's get out of here.”
“The call just got closer,” Rachel hissed. “She's coming this way!”
Quinn didn't even think, she just darted down the hallway with the paper packet in her arms. She heard Rachel shut the sliding door and the patter of feet following her. The foursome ended up in a spare bedroom, luckily there was a window to the front of the house with a perfect view of the driveway where the car was still parked.
“Get your keys, bitch,” Santana mumbled.
It was a draw, it was like she had to do it. Quinn gravitated toward the door and quietly turned the handle to peer out into the hallway.
“Lucy Q! Get back here!”
“Shhh!” Quinn swatted at Rachel's hand and crept down the hallway where she heard rustling around downstairs. When she reached the second floor banister she crouched down low and crawled until she saw a head of hair moving around. The woman's hair was jet black with bright pink streaks. She was wearing a black tanktop and ripped jeans with tattoos covering her arms.
There was a creak behind her and Quinn froze when the woman a floor down froze as well and peered up to the second story. She wasn't sure how she ended up back in the spare bedroom but she had gotten there in a hurry.
“Russell?” a voice called. “Lola? Are you in today?”
“Lola?” Santana mouthed.
Quinn shrugged.
“Oh God,” Rachel choked. “Oh God, Quinn. Quinn, I can't go to prison. I can't. Women's prisons aren't a walk in the park, you know? I saw it on Lockup...Th-they probably wouldn't let me sing. The bathrooms were terrible. They have no vegan meals! We have to get out of here.”
“Be quiet, dwarf!”
“You didn't see the things I saw, Santana! It was horrible!”
Quinn spared Rachel from physical harm by clapping an hand over the girl's mouth and silently pleading for her to be quiet. Rachel finally stopped hyperventilating and Quinn let go of her girlfriend to turn her attention back to the door. The front door slam made her jump but other than that, no one dared move.
“Someone has to go check,” Quinn whispered.
It was Santana who moved first, peering out of the second story window and breathing a sigh of relief.
“Car's gone,” Santana said. “Let's get the hell out of here.”
“I couldn't agree more,” Rachel said. It took Quinn jogging to keep up with her to get back to the master bedroom and out the sliding glass door.
“Ay dios mio,” Santana hissed, slamming the car door. “That was too close. So what the hell is in that?”
Quinn pulled the envelope close to her chest and shrugged. “I don't know.”
“Is it a bird?”
“Just open it, Lucy Q.”
“I will...just...give me some time.”
Santana shrugged and started the car, taking the path back to her aunt's apartment complex. Quinn never let the papers go, simply held them to her chest and stared out the window to watch the buildings go by. The envelope that could answer her questions felt like a weight holding her down. Her heart beat against it, she swore she could practically feel it moving.
“I know it's nerve wracking,” Rachel said. “Whenever you're ready.”
Quinn let herself be led from the car to the apartment when Santana parked in the garage; the world around her was hazy except for the envelope still held tight to her chest. She dropped to the center of the couch with Rachel on one side of her, Santana on the other, and Brittany climbed up on the back of the couch with one knee on either side of Quinn's shoulders, peering down her front.
It felt like tearing a part of herself away but Quinn knew that she had to do it right then or it would never be done. She pulled the envelope away from her chest and flipped it to the back side. The packing tape was still there, just as it had been years before. Her fingers fumbled for a moment before getting it open and slipping open the flap. Before she could reach in to pull out the papers, a smaller sheet slipped out and landed on the coffee table.
“It's your birth certificate,” Rachel whispered. “Oh my God.”