Angeles (Chapter Three)
The Day The Sky Caught Fire
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter 3: No One Is Going to Fool Around With Us
London, England, 1348
Quinn has always been drawn to fire; she isn’t sure why. She knows better than anyone that it only ends badly, but there’s something strangely intriguing about the way the flames lick at the wood in the fireplace. Such endless power, and yet it’s contained to such a tiny environment…
She flicks her wrist, making the flames go brighter. Another flick, and they go back to the way they were before. Brighter, dimmer, she repeats the motion. She stops after a minute or so, tilting her head to the side, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
Santana hesitates from the doorway, unsure if she should disturb Quinn. The angel wears the blank expression like a mask, but there is always something just underneath the surface, a darkness that looks a lot like guilt. It’s both tragic and beautiful, the kind of metaphors found in tragedies.
A flash of something in Quinn’s eyes - anger? Resentment? Remorse? - and the flames begin their dance all over again. The fire burns brighter than before. Santana hesitates for a little longer. The fury and resentment are coming off Quinn in waves.
“We’ve seen how this ends,” Quinn spits out through gritted teeth. Santana doesn’t say anything at first, just stays in the doorway and watches Quinn take out her frustration on the fire.
Quinn stares into the fire. For the first time, Santana wonders if maybe the other angel isn’t seeking redemption in the flames, wonders if rather Quinn is punishing the fire, taking out her frustrations on the wood. What measures can’t she control? She usually seems so composed, what is slipping out of her grasp?
Quinn just continues to grind her teeth together, her body now almost shaking from the tension. Santana doesn’t do anything except move to sit down on the floor near Quinn. It’s quiet for the most part, the only noise being that of the wood burning. Eventually, the blonde angel sighs and starts pacing next to Santana.
“We’ve seen how this ends,” Quinn repeats softly. “It eats me up inside because we know how this is going to end.”
“We’ve rewritten history before,” Santana tells her. “We could do it again, if that’s what you want.”
“Each time we’ve rewritten history,” Quinn argues, “we’ve had to forfeit something in order to win. Before, it was different, but now? We both know what they would ask from us this time. We both know what the price would be.”
“You survived,” the brunette angel sighs. She doesn’t look at the blonde as she says it, still watches the fire. She knows instinctively that Quinn is doing the same.
“We survived on borrowed time,” the blonde sighs as she sits down on the floor next to Santana. “But sooner or later that time will run out on us. It always does.”
“She’s beautiful and you’re tragic,” Santana says softly, keeping her eyes fixed on the fire, knowing instinctively which words Quinn needs to hear. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be beautifully tragic together, Quinntus.”
They stay like that for a while, just watching the flames burn.
& & &
Finn scares her.
Emma didn’t see him coming, which was the first hint that something was very, very wrong. The second thing was how quickly she agreed to help him - it was as if her mind was no longer her own.
She should have seen him in her dreams, but she didn’t. Instead he stands right in front, that perfect blend of charisma and darkness, and she doesn’t know which one to believe in. He wants something, he confessed as much, and as much as she wants to help, there’s a voice lingering at the back of her head asking her to resist.
The voice sounds suspiciously like Quinn’s. She isn’t really ordering her, and Emma knows exactly what Quinn sounds like when she does. It’s more like a whisper, like Quinn is merely asking her, implanting the idea in her head instead of imposing it. It’s such a complete reversal of Quinn’s nature that Emma is almost tempted to believe Finn on principle.
Quinn has never hacked into her head before, so really, there’s no real reason for her to start now. But there’s something else in it as well - like Emma can’t quite shake the feeling there are two people fighting for dominance inside her head, and she’ll bet blind the other person is Finn.
“Why are you so interested in Rachel and Shelby?” Emma asks, and finally, there’s a flicker of irritation in Finn’s perfect eyes.
“They have something of mine,” he smiles tensely before gesturing towards the door. “I need it back. Shall we get going, then?”
“What is it that they have?” She presses. Finn’s eyes flash dangerously.
“Something that belongs to me,” he snarls. “It’s mine, and I want it back.”
“How come they -“ She doesn’t get the chance to finish her sentence before Finn is very, very clearly in her head. Emma can almost feel him as he gently caresses the walls of her mind. She has never been so terrified.
“Don’t ask questions,” he whispers very softly, looking into her eyes, his face a blank mask.
Her subconscious shrieks in self-defense, desperately fighting against the grip he has on her thoughts. Finn continues to watch her, completely impassive, and it’s a frightening echo to how Quinn looked when Santana had her up against the wall: indifferent to her struggle.
“Good pets shouldn’t struggle,” Finn continues, and it’s the last thing she fully comprehends before he takes over her mind completely. “It’s rather -well, unbecoming of them.”
& & &
“Do you want to go on a walk in the woods with me?”
Rachel almost drops the pan in shock. She hadn’t heard Quinn come in behind her, and now her heart is hammering in chest. She turns around and Quinn is leaning in the doorway, a puzzled expression on her face. It’s decidedly endearing.
“Your heart is racing,” Quinn says, sounding almost intrigued. The angel tilts her head and Rachel wonders briefly how on Earth Quinn can hear that.
“You startled me,” Rachel offers, but the explanation doesn’t seem to help that much because Quinn is still wearing an expression that alternates between confusion and intrigue.
“I’m sorry,” she offers. She almost sounds sincere, but Rachel has gotten better at reading her. She knows better by now. Quinn isn’t really that apologetic because her mind is still focused on Rachel’s heartbeat. She wonders why the angel is so intrigued by such a simple trait of humanity.
“Is everything ok, Quinn?” She asks, because she just wants the blonde to focus on something else for a bit. Hazel eyes flicker up, and there’s a hint of something in them, but whatever it is disappears almost instantly.
“Yes,” Quinn answers. “Everything is fine.” She bites her lip, her body moving slightly from side to side, and it strikes Rachel that Quinn is actually feeling nervous. Her calm, confident angel is unsure of something.
“Do you want to go on a walk with me?” She repeats. There’s something dangerously charming about Quinn when she lacks certainty in herself. The vulnerability often feeds into anger, into darkness, and while the brunette knows she should be afraid of it, she isn’t.
“Yes, of course,” she says, “just give me a moment. Are Brittany and Santana coming with us?”
There it is, that familiar darkness she so often associates with Quinn. It flashes across her features. She knows, before Quinn even answers her, that they will be alone on the walk, and there’s a flicker of irritation on Quinn’s face when she looks up.
“Oh come on,” Quinn says as she moves towards the door, the disapproval clearly evident in her tone. “I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t be so petty.”
Rachel’s not entirely sure it’s petty to be a little afraid of someone the prophets claimed would end the world, but something tells her it’s better if she doesn’t argue technicalities with Quinn.
Her angel is quiet on the walk. Rachel has come to accept that Quinn gets like this sometimes. She’s quiet and contemplative at best, rash and unpredictable at worst, and spends most of the time trying to find a balance between the two. She’s the perfect contradiction, that intoxicating blend of romance and darkness, the kind people find so addictive.
The kind of addiction which, if the individual lets it get out of hand, can kill.
And yet - the silence is strangely soothing, too. There’s a form of comfort, really, in the way the only sound is their breathing and the raindrops hitting the leaves, as if the rest of the world really doesn’t exist - it is just them, and the world can be put on hold, just for a moment.
It reminds her of romance, and she wonders what that means, really, when you’re falling in love with someone who is destined to end the world. She wonders if Quinn is affected by it or if, like so many things, the angel just shuts off her emotions completely. She wonders what it means, then, when Quinn does feel something. If the emotion is so strong that she can’t hide it, or if it’s something else entirely.
The perfect contradiction, or the perfect enigma? Quinn is a little of both. Rachel glances at her and she wants to reach out and touch her, wants to feel those muscles under her palm, wants to know if her body is as perfect as Quinn is damaged.
The perfect contradiction, Rachel thinks to herself.
“You’re awfully pretty,” she suddenly blurts out, and Quinn glances at her, amusement clear in those hazel eyes.
“So I’ve been told,” she drawls, and, yeah, it’s arrogant and a little condescending but also so typically Quinn Rachel can’t help but laugh. The angel wouldn’t be herself without that familiar arrogance that constantly borders on being cockiness.
But she’s gorgeous, too, and kind of tragic. The kind of angels, kings would willingly burn down entire countries in order to free.
“You can’t leave me!” Rachel suddenly gasps, her hand clutching onto Quinn’s arms.
“Rachel,” the angel says patiently, “we’re in the middle of the woods. I am hardly going to leave you in the middle of nowhere when -“
She sees it, the exact moment when Quinn changes. The moment when beauty becomes darkness instead, the kind of beauty Emma Pillsbury must have seen in her visions, the kind of beauty that brings with it death and destruction and maybe this is what she meant when she said Quinn possessed the kind of beauty that kings would destroy entire kingdoms for.
“Quinn?” Rachel stutters. “What’s going on, what’s happening? Why are you acting like this?”
In a flash, her back is against a tree, and Quinn is pressing a hand against her mouth. Desperation, fear, fury are also written across Quinn’s face, and that is what scares Rachel. Quinn is genuinely afraid, and the reason she is afraid is because she isn’t in control.
“Stay there,” she hisses against gritted teeth, “just stay here and don’t say a word, please, just don’t say an-“
She cuts herself off, turns around with a snarl. At first Rachel can’t see anything, but twigs start snapping in the distance, and eventually a figure comes closer. He is tall, and handsome, and dangerous.
“Hello, Quinntus,” Finn smiles.
& & &
“It’s been a while,” Finn continues as if Quinn isn’t snarling at him.
“Yes,” Quinn growls, “it has.”
He smiles again and it sends chills down Rachel’s spine. Above her, lightning streaks across the sky, the light slowly filtering down through the trees. In front of her, though, a different type of storm is occurring. Quinn is completely tense, bracing herself for combat, whereas Finn appears to be much more relaxed.
Finn finally seems to notice her against the tree. His approval shifts from curious to disapproving to intrigued, and all in all, it isn’t that different from the expression Quinn wore in the kitchen a little earlier, when she seemed so surprised by the effects of human emotions.
“What a lovely pet you have there,” he comments as he steps towards Rachel.
“Don’t,” Quinn growls. It’s quiet but it’s enough for Finn to hesitate mid-step, and he focuses his attention back on the angel.
“Oh, Quinntus, surely you didn’t, not again?” He asks. Quinn doesn’t say anything in response, just grits her teeth and scowls at him.
“Didn’t you learn your lesson last time?” He provokes, taking a step closer. A clap of thunder booms above him.
“This isn’t the same as last time,” Quinn argues.
She moves half a step, so subtly if Rachel hadn’t been watching her so closely she wouldn’t have even noticed. It takes Rachel a moment to understand why, but then it hits her - Quinn is deliberately blocking her from Finn’s eye line. She is trying to protect her, and Rachel just wants to understand why.
Then Quinn’s words catch up with her, and her whole body tenses behind Quinn. Last time? Rachel thinks to herself. But I didn’t even meet Quinn until she fell from the sky. What on Earth are they talking about? To say there was a last time means this has happened before, and it hasn’t, I swear I would remember it…
“Well, let’s hope not,” Finn shrugs. “After all, we both remember how that particular affair ended, don’t we?”
Quinn does remember. She remembers every detail of the affair Finn is so kindly blackmailing her with, forcing her to relive the actions she had tried so carefully to forget. He seems to be enjoying it, too, as he watches her battle with her own memories, trying to justify what happened in the past with the situation she is currently confronted with.
For the first time in a very long time, Finn Hudson can finally read Quinn Fabray. He turns towards the human and frowns. It’s obvious, really, how protective Quinn is of her little pet. It’s also rather degrading, considering what Quinn is capable of. Anyone can see this human of hers is holding her back.
“Where’s your faithful companion?” He asks. “Did she finally realize she was hindering your potential?”
“Leave her out of this,” Quinn snarls. A flick of her wrist and a branch falls dangerously close to Finn’s head. His only response is to roll his eyes.
“Really, Quinntus?” He drawls. “After all this time, this is what has become of us? Mere theatrics? If you’re going to play, well, at least play with your full abilities.”
He’s deliberately provoking her, she knows it. He knows she won’t tap into her darkness, not with the human so close to her. He frowns, confused. The Quinntus he knew considered humans as toys, mere pets. What’s so special about this one?
Finn takes a step forwards, suddenly intrigued. He senses more than hears Quinn growl in warning but he ignores it, wanting to understand what was so special about her new pet. Rachel stares back at him, wide-eyed.
“She positively reeks of humanity,” he sniffs in the brunette’s direction. “How on Earth can you stand the scent?”
Quinn doesn’t answer, just scowls at him, her eyes darkening in warning. Finn ignores it completely as he takes another step towards. He just wants to understand what is so special about this new pet of hers. Suddenly, another branch falls right in front of him, forcing him to take another step back.
“Don’t,” Quinn repeats quietly, dangerously. “Don’t even think about it.”
“But you have,” Finn suddenly realizes, a look of understanding passing over his features. “You have thought about it. It’s probably all you think about, isn’t it?”
He looks back at Rachel. “Interesting, especially when you consider what happened before, you know?”
“It’s not like last time!”
Quinn is bargaining, Rachel suddenly realizes. She’s bargaining with Finn but over what? Why is Quinn so desperate for Finn to believe that this - whatever this may be - is separate from whatever happened before? She’s not sure if Quinn is trying to protect her or sell her out, or some strange combination of both.
A second, maybe two. Then Finn is suddenly right in front of her. Quinn doesn’t move, just grits her teeth and stares into the distance while Finn’s eyes - God, his eyes, why are they doing that? - just looks right at Rachel, his breath hitting her face.
“You’re a human, so you won’t remember this,” Finn whispers very softly, very quietly, as if this conversation is just meant to be between the two of them. But she knows, she just knows, that Quinn can hear every word of it.
“Quinntus chose you once before,” he continues quietly. “And even if you don’t remember how that ended, I do.” He leans down and puts his lips right next to Rachel’s ear. “Why don’t you ask your precious angel just what kind of everything she remembers. It makes for quite an interesting story.”
“It’s in the past, Finn,” Quinn sighs, confirming Rachel’s belief that Finn’s speech was also directed at her angel. Finn smiles, still looking at Rachel.
“Funny how the past has a tendency of coming back, isn’t it?” He asks. He looks over his shoulder at Quinn. “Oh, and Quinntus? That little prophet of yours won’t be bothering you anymore.”
Rachel closes her eyes; when she opens them, Finn has gone, leaving her alone with Quinn. For the first time that she can remember, she is genuinely afraid of the blonde angel.
The walk home is silent.
& & &
“Santana,” Rachel says quietly, “I need to talk to you.”
There’s that flicker of resentment, of boredom, in Santana’s eyes when she looks up. Rachel doesn’t miss, either, the way the angel glances briefly at Quinn as if seeking permission. Despite everything that has happened, Quinn is still the - well, alpha angel, and the etiquette of conversation still belongs to her.
Quinn doesn’t say anything, just leans back and stares at the fire through impassive eyes. Santana just continues to look bored for a moment longer, just long enough for Rachel to begin to lose confidence in herself. She’s about to retract her offer when Santana gets up.
Alone on the floor, Brittany wonders why no one else notices how the flames got a lot bigger when Santana and Rachel walked out of the room.
“I need to know what happened,” Rachel starts quietly, trying to fight back to tears.
“No,” Santana argues softly. “You don’t need to know.”
“I do,” Rachel stresses. “You have no idea how terrified I was out there! I just want to understand what happened, please Santana, just tell me! Tell me what is going on!”
“It’s complicated,” the angel sighs. “It’s all just really complicated and I promise you, you just wouldn’t understand and it’s just better if you don’t know, ok?”
“I’m not like you or Quinn,” Rachel snaps. “I can’t just turn off my emotions like you two do so effortlessly. I am scared and I feel alone and I just want to - God, I don’t know what I want.”
Santana narrows her eyes at her and Rachel takes a step back. She knows she is testing the angel and she should probably stop pushing her because, God, she saw what happened when Quinn was annoyed and there’s nothing to say that Santana won’t try to do the same if provoked.
It’s a challenge, one she can’t afford to lose, but she knows Santana isn’t going to back down, either. The angel’s whole body is almost vibrating from the tension and yeah, it’s clear she is just itching for a fight.
Quinn continues to stare in the fire. She can sense Brittany watching her, trying to get a read on her. Her efforts are futile. Rachel’s accusations were right, she is the master at shutting off emotions. They make her weak, what happened in the woods demonstrated as much.
She won’t let it happen again.
“What did Finn mean, that this has happened before?” Rachel presses back in the kitchen. Santana sighs and takes a step back, rearranging her features into a neutral expression.
How to explain? How to put into words that Quinn is so beautifully tragic because of Rachel? How to say - there’s no right way to put this, but you are partly responsible for the endless guilt Quinn carries around? How is she supposed to tell her, you loved her once, not without cause, so how is Quinn supposed to live when that cause is gone? What justifications exist for I know what you’re really asking and yes, Quinn is going to end the world, but only because of you?
“You won’t remember any of this, since you’re a human now,” Santana says quietly, her words an echo of Finn’s accusations. It’s different, though. Finn sounded bitter; Santana just sounds tired, defeated. “But once upon a time, Quinn chose you over Finn, and neither of you never forgave her for it.”
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Disclaimers:
- Don't own Glee and am not affiliated with the show in any shape or form
- Title of the chapter is line from "Angeles" by Elliot Smith
- Special thanks to Erika who really has overlooked the fact I've killed her inbox over the past week, most of it with drunken emails
- The line about kings burning down empires is taken from a ASofterWorld manip collidingkiss did.