Unspoken Words (Prologue/?)
Title: Unspoken Words
Rating: PG (this one)/NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 1000+
Spoilers: AU after Journey
Summary: Futurefic! Rachel knew it wasn't wise to take a shortcut through dark New York alleys late at night, but it was late, and she was drunk, and really, really had to get home.
Pairing: Eventually Faberry
Warning: Angst! ANGST!!!
Again, crossposted with fanfiction.net here.
PROLOGUE!
Quinn was getting ready to leave the office when she looked over at the muted TV in the waiting room and saw the headline: Rachel Berry nominated for Best Leading Actress in a Musical at Tonys. Quinn smiled satisfactorily at the familiar name, and made a note to tell her colleagues later that night at the CEO's retirement. Though she and Rachel had ended up being quite close by the end of high school, it'd been years since then, and Quinn's relationship with Rachel had been relegated to her having bragging rights for having once shared a stage with the Broadway starlet.
It was times like this that Quinn regretted never keeping in contact with her fellow Glee club members after getting out of Lima, but she had always just put it off until later, since there were so many things she had to do all the time, and really, who would she contact? The only other person in New York was Rachel, and Quinn had always felt more than a little guilt over how she had treated Rachel for so long, so she never bridged the gap between the two of them.
So, as usual, Quinn Fabray just shrugged off the guilty feeling, and walked out and to the parking lot.
With the sun having set several hours ago, Rachel and her cast mates were winding down from a night of celebratory drinks. Rachel herself was more than a little tipsy, and wasn't completely ready to call it a night, but many of her cast mates had other things to do in the morning, so soon she found herself alone with her drink and a smile on her face.
As she usually did when she was alone, Rachel found herself reminiscing, and laughing to herself. She'd gotten herself out of Lima, and onto several heavily acclaimed Broadway shows. She'd showed all the naysayers from high school, and gotten her own revenge, by being successful doing something she loved.
The first time she had been paid for being on stage (straight out of Julliard), Rachel had sent invitations to the graduating class of Lima in spite of everything that had happened. She never really knew how many of them had made it, but she was certain she'd seen Finn in the audience at one point, if only because he'd been so tall, and, really, it was hard not to see the friendly giant. And there'd been flowers from Mr. Schue, who regretted being unable to make it (Emma was having a baby, and the travel was, apparently, inadvisable for the safety of the baby). That had been several years ago.
And now! Now she was a Tony-nominated actress! She was pretty sure life couldn't get much better than this. Perhaps it was a little lonely, but her cast mates were like her family, and that was all that mattered. She wasn't alone.
Quinn was late.
Quinn was never late, hated being late, and thought it was abhorrent that anyone couldn't schedule their time correctly to get to things on time. But, for some reason, for the first time in her remarkable life, she was running late (after not having remembered to factor in holiday and weekend traffic in downtown New York). She had essentially been stuck unmoving in traffic for half an hour when she'd just screamed, recklessly pulled over and parked (on the sidewalk, no less; she had a Vespa). She was pretty certain that at this rate, walking to the party would be faster than vehicular travel.
And she was right, but only slightly, since she had forgotten to factor in that she was wearing heels, and that significantly slowed her speed.
So Quinn just pulled her purse towards her shoulder, and walked. It was already dark, and she wasn't so sure she wanted to be walking, but she had to get there as soon as possible. At this rate, she wouldn't get there until the end, and she just couldn't have that. She walked stoically, and gripped her jacket closer to her, grimacing against the wind-tunnel effect from the sky-scrapers.
There was suddenly a scuffling and growling sound from the alley beside her, and she looked up, noticing that across the street, the bar, and everyone from work, was there. Muffled words were next, and though Quinn could not make out what was being said, she could hear the raw fear from the speaker. Having felt that fear before, she knew that someone was being mugged.
But she was late for the party, and being late was bad, and besides, what could she really do to help? It wasn't like she could swoop in and stop the mugger with brute force. The only thing she could do was call the police, and tell them to get to 19th between 5th and 6th quickly, because someone was being mugged in the alley beside the little bookstore (which she did), and try to push the incident to the back of her mind. She had a work party to attend. Certainly someone else would notice and help the poor person in the alley.
The next day, as Quinn popped back into the office after her coffee break, she noticed a headline on the muted TV, and froze.
Broadway favorite, Rachel Berry, assaulted last night, and is in hospital in stable condition
The closed captions told her that Rachel had been attacked last night near Flatiron Lounge, where she'd been celebrating with her cast mates earlier that night, and had been slashed by the mugger across the throat. She was currently stable, but the extent of the damage done to the singer's throat was unknown, and it was unknown if the star would ever be able to speak again, let alone sing. The singer was lucky, because there had been an anonymous tip to the police about the mugging, and they had gotten there quickly, otherwise she would not have made it out alive. The suspect was...
Quinn gaped like a fish at the television, her coffee having dropped onto the floor. She didn't hear her boss asking if she was alright, she didn't feel the scalding hot coffee that had splashed all over her after landing on her shoe and was burning its trail down her shins.
She could only stare at the headline on the TV, and remember how, last night, she had been late. She hadn't stopped to see if the person had been all right. She'd only called the police, and...
"Oh God, Rachel..."
Rachel was in pain. It was everywhere, yet nowhere, and she didn't want to do anything. It was hard to focus, and the only thing she could really do was nothing. So she drifted back into the bliss of darkness, and that was okay with her.
TBC
A/N: I swear I didn't watch Glee until I got into Faberry and Brittana. This is insane. Insanity, I tell you! Anyways, I know, I'm evil, but... this is for the best, I swear. A really short intro into what will hopefully be a decent Faberry story/novella. I say decent because there are so many good Faberry writers that I don't think I deserve to even be here writing anything for it. I love that you all use grammar properly... thank you.
Why yes, Rachel is now famous, and still full of heart, and still amazing. Why yes, Quinn is very indifferent. Why yes, I did just destroy Rachel's future.
Funny thing is, I hadn't even watched Laryngitis until after I came up with the idea. Now I have a better idea of how Rachel will react, which is entirely beneficial to me.
Also, a big thank you/shout out to my editor/alpha-reader, Albrecht Starkarm (aka Batman)! I sent this to him about... 9-ish this evening, and he'd already responded by 11-ish. Go grovel for his edits; that's how cool he is. He recently was hazed by the censors of fanfiction for his amazing writing skills, and responded successfully with wit. Thank you for reading it over and letting me know that I'm not as sucky as I think I am. You're awesome.
Next Chapter: Quinn tries to get in contact with Rachel, and Rachel finally becomes fully aware of her surroundings.
Rating: PG (this one)/NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 1000+
Spoilers: AU after Journey
Summary: Futurefic! Rachel knew it wasn't wise to take a shortcut through dark New York alleys late at night, but it was late, and she was drunk, and really, really had to get home.
Pairing: Eventually Faberry
Warning: Angst! ANGST!!!
Again, crossposted with fanfiction.net here.
PROLOGUE!
Quinn was getting ready to leave the office when she looked over at the muted TV in the waiting room and saw the headline: Rachel Berry nominated for Best Leading Actress in a Musical at Tonys. Quinn smiled satisfactorily at the familiar name, and made a note to tell her colleagues later that night at the CEO's retirement. Though she and Rachel had ended up being quite close by the end of high school, it'd been years since then, and Quinn's relationship with Rachel had been relegated to her having bragging rights for having once shared a stage with the Broadway starlet.
It was times like this that Quinn regretted never keeping in contact with her fellow Glee club members after getting out of Lima, but she had always just put it off until later, since there were so many things she had to do all the time, and really, who would she contact? The only other person in New York was Rachel, and Quinn had always felt more than a little guilt over how she had treated Rachel for so long, so she never bridged the gap between the two of them.
So, as usual, Quinn Fabray just shrugged off the guilty feeling, and walked out and to the parking lot.
With the sun having set several hours ago, Rachel and her cast mates were winding down from a night of celebratory drinks. Rachel herself was more than a little tipsy, and wasn't completely ready to call it a night, but many of her cast mates had other things to do in the morning, so soon she found herself alone with her drink and a smile on her face.
As she usually did when she was alone, Rachel found herself reminiscing, and laughing to herself. She'd gotten herself out of Lima, and onto several heavily acclaimed Broadway shows. She'd showed all the naysayers from high school, and gotten her own revenge, by being successful doing something she loved.
The first time she had been paid for being on stage (straight out of Julliard), Rachel had sent invitations to the graduating class of Lima in spite of everything that had happened. She never really knew how many of them had made it, but she was certain she'd seen Finn in the audience at one point, if only because he'd been so tall, and, really, it was hard not to see the friendly giant. And there'd been flowers from Mr. Schue, who regretted being unable to make it (Emma was having a baby, and the travel was, apparently, inadvisable for the safety of the baby). That had been several years ago.
And now! Now she was a Tony-nominated actress! She was pretty sure life couldn't get much better than this. Perhaps it was a little lonely, but her cast mates were like her family, and that was all that mattered. She wasn't alone.
Quinn was late.
Quinn was never late, hated being late, and thought it was abhorrent that anyone couldn't schedule their time correctly to get to things on time. But, for some reason, for the first time in her remarkable life, she was running late (after not having remembered to factor in holiday and weekend traffic in downtown New York). She had essentially been stuck unmoving in traffic for half an hour when she'd just screamed, recklessly pulled over and parked (on the sidewalk, no less; she had a Vespa). She was pretty certain that at this rate, walking to the party would be faster than vehicular travel.
And she was right, but only slightly, since she had forgotten to factor in that she was wearing heels, and that significantly slowed her speed.
So Quinn just pulled her purse towards her shoulder, and walked. It was already dark, and she wasn't so sure she wanted to be walking, but she had to get there as soon as possible. At this rate, she wouldn't get there until the end, and she just couldn't have that. She walked stoically, and gripped her jacket closer to her, grimacing against the wind-tunnel effect from the sky-scrapers.
There was suddenly a scuffling and growling sound from the alley beside her, and she looked up, noticing that across the street, the bar, and everyone from work, was there. Muffled words were next, and though Quinn could not make out what was being said, she could hear the raw fear from the speaker. Having felt that fear before, she knew that someone was being mugged.
But she was late for the party, and being late was bad, and besides, what could she really do to help? It wasn't like she could swoop in and stop the mugger with brute force. The only thing she could do was call the police, and tell them to get to 19th between 5th and 6th quickly, because someone was being mugged in the alley beside the little bookstore (which she did), and try to push the incident to the back of her mind. She had a work party to attend. Certainly someone else would notice and help the poor person in the alley.
The next day, as Quinn popped back into the office after her coffee break, she noticed a headline on the muted TV, and froze.
Broadway favorite, Rachel Berry, assaulted last night, and is in hospital in stable condition
The closed captions told her that Rachel had been attacked last night near Flatiron Lounge, where she'd been celebrating with her cast mates earlier that night, and had been slashed by the mugger across the throat. She was currently stable, but the extent of the damage done to the singer's throat was unknown, and it was unknown if the star would ever be able to speak again, let alone sing. The singer was lucky, because there had been an anonymous tip to the police about the mugging, and they had gotten there quickly, otherwise she would not have made it out alive. The suspect was...
Quinn gaped like a fish at the television, her coffee having dropped onto the floor. She didn't hear her boss asking if she was alright, she didn't feel the scalding hot coffee that had splashed all over her after landing on her shoe and was burning its trail down her shins.
She could only stare at the headline on the TV, and remember how, last night, she had been late. She hadn't stopped to see if the person had been all right. She'd only called the police, and...
"Oh God, Rachel..."
Rachel was in pain. It was everywhere, yet nowhere, and she didn't want to do anything. It was hard to focus, and the only thing she could really do was nothing. So she drifted back into the bliss of darkness, and that was okay with her.
TBC
A/N: I swear I didn't watch Glee until I got into Faberry and Brittana. This is insane. Insanity, I tell you! Anyways, I know, I'm evil, but... this is for the best, I swear. A really short intro into what will hopefully be a decent Faberry story/novella. I say decent because there are so many good Faberry writers that I don't think I deserve to even be here writing anything for it. I love that you all use grammar properly... thank you.
Why yes, Rachel is now famous, and still full of heart, and still amazing. Why yes, Quinn is very indifferent. Why yes, I did just destroy Rachel's future.
Funny thing is, I hadn't even watched Laryngitis until after I came up with the idea. Now I have a better idea of how Rachel will react, which is entirely beneficial to me.
Also, a big thank you/shout out to my editor/alpha-reader, Albrecht Starkarm (aka Batman)! I sent this to him about... 9-ish this evening, and he'd already responded by 11-ish. Go grovel for his edits; that's how cool he is. He recently was hazed by the censors of fanfiction for his amazing writing skills, and responded successfully with wit. Thank you for reading it over and letting me know that I'm not as sucky as I think I am. You're awesome.
Next Chapter: Quinn tries to get in contact with Rachel, and Rachel finally becomes fully aware of her surroundings.