Hello! I hope people are still reading Glee fanfics. I started watching the show recently, and instantly fell in love with Faberry. This is my first story. I hope you guys like it!
Chapter 1 – Found
"I don't think she's still coming," Mike Chang, a science classmate and fellow Glee Clubber tells Rachel Berry, effectively swaying her away from her worried thoughts about Quinn Fabray. The two of them have just finished working on an assignment that was meant to be done by three people.
"I must agree," Rachel replies, trying to ignore the voice in her head that's telling her something is wrong. "I'm certain that if Quinn was to come, she would have been here at 8:30 p.m. like she promised. Something must have come up."
Mike nods, easily standing up and moving tall dancer legs around after sitting down for the past two hours. Rachel follows suit. "Quinn wouldn't have ditched us if it wasn't important. Just tell her we've finished the work and she doesn't have to worry about anything. She can just review it and add her inputs tomorrow morning."
"I could have told her that if she had the decency to answer one of my calls," she sighs. Rachel has been trying to contact her for the past two hours. She must admit that she's a tad mad at her best friend for suddenly missing in action, but her worry overrides every ounce of anger in her system. Something is wrong; she can feel it.
"Are you okay," Mike asks, the nice guy in him sensing her apprehension.
"Yes. Just worried. It's very un-Quinn-like to not notify me if anything of importance happens that would entail her to break a promise."
"I'm sure it's not something you have to worry about," he tries to reassure her. "Maybe she just had to go somewhere and forgot her phone. I'm sure she would contact you as soon as she can."
"Yeah, I guess that could be possible. I'd just keep trying to call her. Thanks for coming, Mike."
"It's nothing. You can give me her number as well, if it's okay with you. I'd help contacting her," Mike kindly offers, already nudging his phone in front of Rachel. "I promise not to give it to anyone else."
If this was any other guy, Rachel would have to be threatened with a knife first before she'd entrust him with as much as the first three digits of Quinn's number. But this is Michael Chang Jr., one of the smartest and nicest students at William McKinley High School, and Rachel is sure that Quinn wouldn't mind him having her number.
She quickly keys in Quinn's number in Mike's phone, feeling honored to know it by memory by now.
Two years ago, the mere thought of Rachel having and knowing Quinn's number, or even just of them getting along would have been so far-fetched.
But the past two years have connected them in many strange ways, and their relationship has evolved from enemies to frenemies to friends to two people sharing several circumstances and now, to the very best of friends.
Their closeness was most evident in the early months of senior year. Quinn has helped Rachel through her difficult breakup with Finn Hudson who she once thought was the love of her life and the troubles over her friendship with Kurt Hummel due to election-related chaos. Rachel has also done her best to prevent Quinn from drowning into the abyss that was her own head.
Yes, Rachel Barbra Berry and Lucy Quinn Fabray are best friends now, hard as it may to believe. That is why Rachel can't seem to ease the nervousness that's eating her inside at this moment.
"Just call me if you need anything. I'd keep my line open," Mike offers. They are now at the door of Rachel's two-floor home.
"I will," she replies with a smile. She knows she can count on the guy, and she's thankful for him.
/
This is the first time she's calling the Fabrays thru their landline, Rachel notes absently as she punches in the family's home number. She has always contacted Quinn directly through her cellular phone.
Still worried to death, Rachel has called Coffee Meet a while ago. Sarah, Quinn's co-worker said the blonde has left when her shift ended around 8 p.m., adding that Quinn has mentioned going to a classmate's house to work on an assignment. This only fuels Rachel's fears.
It's 11 o'clock – thirty minutes since Mike has gone, Quinn still can't be contacted, and Rachel's stomach is tied in knots. Mike has texted her 15 minutes ago to tell her that Quinn isn't answering any of his calls either.
She reckons she should call Santana, but she doesn't feel like disturbing the Latina now and calling Judy, Quinn's mother, would seem like the better option. Maybe Quinn just got a headache or something and fell asleep at home.
It takes eight rings before the phone is picked up from the other side.
"Hello. Who is this?"
Rachel does not expect a cold, gruffly voice from a man to answer. From what she knows, it's just Quinn and Judy now. It has been that way since the end of Sophomore year, after Quinn gave birth. Is her best friend keeping something from her?
Still, she tries to regain her composure. "Good evening, Sir. I apologize for having to disturb you at this time of the night. This is Rachel Berry. I'm a classmate of Quinn's."
She could be mistaken, but she thinks she hears a scoff from the other side. "There's nothing I can help you with. She isn't here."
If the man's tone was cold when he first answered, it's nothing to how much colder it has become now. There's a hint of loathing in it, even. The power and sense of self-importance in his voice makes Rachel feel small from her end of the line.
But Rachel Berry is not the type to show intimidation.
"Are you certain, Sir? We were supposed to work on our group assignment tonight, but she has failed to show up."
"Of course she'd fail. That's what she does best."
Rachel's eyebrows and blood pressure rise. "I'm sorry?"
"Nothing. That girl hasn't been here. Try calling her cellphone. She's probably busy being a burden somewhere else."
The brunette instantly bristles, but she tries to rein her anger in. Who is this man, and how does he have the nerve to talk about Quinn like this?
Her friend sure is a very complicated person with walls as high as the sky, but once she allows one to get to know her, they'd have the honor of seeing the great person she hides deep within. Quinn is undoubtedly the smartest, wisest and most beautiful person in school and despite her epically secretive and ground-low self-esteem issues, Rachel doesn't know a better person.
Still, she doesn't want to be having a showdown over the phone with a stupid old man.
"I don't know what your problem with Quinn is, but I'm worried about her whereabouts. Can I just talk to Judy?"
"What part of Quinn isn't here do you not understand? Go bother someone else. It's almost midnight. I'm sure she's just seeking attention like she loves to do. Good night."
"What? Wait! Hel-"
And just like that, the line goes deads.
Rachel is flabbergasted. What on earth was that? She could not believe the conversation that has transpired. Who is that man? Why is he at the Fabrays? Why does he talk about Quinn like that? Where is Judy?
More importantly, if she isn't at work or at home, then where on earth is Quinn Fabray?
Quinn truly has a shitty family. Rachel tries not to cry at the realization that if she isn't worrying about the blonde now, no one would be.
/
Almost at the end of her wits, she calls the next person she thinks about.
"What, Berry? I don't gots much time. This better be important or I will proceed to your place at midnight and endz you in your sleep."
"Good evening to you, too, Santana."
"You just pretty much ruined it, Midget."
Rachel would roll her eyes if she isn't so nervous. One of Santana Lopez's favorite hobbies is to pretend like she hates Rachel. "I apologize for disturbing you, and I will try my hardest to be concise about my concern. Well, uhm, I was just wondering if Quinn is with you and Brittany? Or if she has to be anywhere right now that she has told you about?"
"Nope. Isn't she supposed to be doing that stupid assignment with you?"
Santana doesn't sound a tad bitter, and it brings a smile to Rachel's lips. Quinn, Santana and Brittany Pearce, or the Unholy Trinity, have always been connected to the hip since Junior High, which means they would always pair up for assignments that call on three people. But Santana and Brittany has always been closer, with Quinn comfortably playing third wheel, and as Rachel and Quinn's relationship progressed, Quinn has somehow found her own Brittany in her. So for the past few months, it has not been Santana-and-Brittany-and-Quinn as what has been customary; it has been Santana-and-Brittany, Quinn-and-Rachel and Santana-Brittany-Quinn-and-Rachel.
Santana and Brittany were working with Mercedes Jones, another Glee Club member.
"We were supposed to. Mike and I took care of the assignment. She never showed up so I thought she might be on to something that's really important."
"Did you try calling Coffee Meet?" Santana sounds more alert now, definitely starting to get worried. Like Rachel, she knows that Quinn is not the type to sway from plans.
"Yes. Sarah said she left at around 8 p.m."
"How about at home? Judy's probably just up her ass again."
"I did. But something strange happened. A man answered when I called, claiming that Quinn wasn't there."
"What," Santana says, sounding more intense than Rachel thinks she should be. "Did you just say a man?"
"Yes, I did. I was a bit shocked, too. I was expecting Judy to answer. Do you have any idea if she's dating someone?"
Santana ignores her question. "What did he sound like?"
Rachel shrugs. "A bit gruff. Like an old man, but I couldn't be sure."
"Shit," Santana curses, making Rachel flinch. "Did he sound pissed?"
"Maybe. I think he sounded exasperated, almost like my call bothered him to a great extent. Which is weird; I don't think I have said something that might seem to have offended him. I was merely expressing honest concern over Quinn's well-being. Also, I have enough reason to believe that he doesn't like Quinn. He said something along the lines of her probably messing around somewhere else, which is just wrong because Quinn's not the kind to - "
"Berry, I'm going to ask you to shut up right this instant. Get your ugly clothes on. Britts and I will meet you there. We'll look around for Lizard-Face."
"Oh. Okay."
"Tubbers better be lying in a ditch somewhere or I will kill her myself. See you, Berry."
It's only utter worry that drives Santana to say those words, Rachel knows that. There is also a sense of urgency and unease in the way the cheerleader spoke, and Rachel tries her hardest not to cry as she gets to her closet for a change of clothes. Her stomach is in shambles.
A text from Mike, asking for updates, alerts her. The guy has been continually offering help, and since Rachel thinks it's a better option to ask for his assistance instead of her dads who has just gone to sleep, she asks if he would care to help them search for Quinn.
/
Rachel has contacted Santana to tell her to meet them outside the Coffee Meet instead because Mike would be driving her. The two cheerleaders are already outside the establishment she arrives with Mike. A worried Sarah meets them outside and expresses her regrets over not being able to help search for their friend because she couldn't leave the shop. She says she noticed that Quinn has not brought her truck with her earlier this evening, which means she either grabbed a taxi or walked to wherever she was planning to go, although she was certain that the blonde has mentioned going to Rachel's.
All four of them are wearing worried expression. Brittany is clinging to Santana's hand, a heartbreaking frown on her face. Santana isn't faring better – and while anger is dominant on the Latina's face, her forehead is wrinkled with worry, too.
They decided to split to find Quinn faster. Mike and Rachel would be trudging the way to school, while Santana and Brittany will retrace the way to Quinn's home.
She worriedly bites at her thumb as she rides the passenger of Mike's car, now trudging the path where they came from. Her instincts are so strong – her gut is telling her that there's something here that she must pay attention to. So she keeps her eyes open, desperate to see signs of her friend's whereabouts.
Three blocks away from school, she sees something she hasn't noticed earlier. A red truck is parked in a small alley between two establishments. What makes Rachel blanch are the two Cheerio glow-in-the-dark stickers on its front.
"Mike, please stop the car!"
The dancer immediately steps on the brake and Rachel runs out of the passenger seat before the car even comes to a full stop.
The old truck comes into view, but the lights are out. A closer inspection of the truck tells Rachel that this is indeed Quinn's. The cheerleader has traded her red buggy for this, telling Rachel that it's more practical and uses less gasoline. How and why it is in this place is beyond Rachel, though.
"She isn't here," Mike says.
Damn right.
"Quinn, where are you?" She whispers to herself. It almost sounds like a prayer.
"Do you think we should look around?"
"Yes, we should try," Rachel answers shakily. Aside from the two establishments, this area is mostly deserted.
Rachel looks into every crook and cranny of the alley but there is no sign of Quinn. She's tearing up, but she'd be damned before she gives up. Mike gets her attention two or three minutes into surveying the area.
"Something's lighting up by that street," Mike points out, and Rachel whips around to where her friend is referring at. Sure enough, an object is emitting blinking lights by the side of the main road about 50 meters from where they are.
Holding on to anything that might possibly give them a clue to the blonde's whereabouts, the two of them run towards the object. "I think it's a phone," Mike says breathlessly as they get closer.
"Oh my God, this is Quinn's phone," Rachel exclaims, bending down to pick it up. What is it doing here? Her heart is trying to claw out of her chest. "Brittany's calling. That's why it has been lighting up."
The brunette presses the answer button.
"Oh my God. Quinnie Bear? Is this you? You had us all worried," Brittany says from her end of the line. There is utter relief in her voice, and Rachel hates the thought of having to wipe that out.
"No, sorry, Brittany. This is Rachel," she answers, voice shaking. She's trying her hardest not to cry. "We – we found her phone by the side of Madison Street."
"Oh God. Wait for us. We're going back there."
"Okay."
Rachel turns the phone off and looks around. There's a wide expanse of grassy field to her right, littered with a few trees, just below that side of the road. Mike and Rachel eye the area with trepidation.
The singer's heart beats unexplainably faster, her head growing heavier. Something inside her is telling her to risk going down the street to check the grassy, deserted lawn. She steps towards it, feeling an indescribable mixture of fear and courage.
"Rachel, where are you going? It could be dangerous!"
She keeps moving. Something is pulling her.
"Rachel…"
When she looks back at Mike, tears are freely streaming down her face. "I can feel something Mike! I…I don't know how… or why…But I just…I feel her! She could be here!"
"Okay, okay," Mike says, looking around and picking up a chunk of wood. "I'm sorry. I believe you. Let's go down together."
Rachel nods and whispers a desperate sounding thank you.
The area is wide, but something invisible is guiding Rachel's feet. She keeps moving towards a certain direction, eyes brimming with unshed tears and chest aching, while Mike follows closely behind, using his phone as a flashlight and raising the wood in a defensive stance.
"Oh my God," Rachel gasps, the forming tears in her eyes finally flowing uncontrollably down her cheeks as she sees from a distance what looks like a body lying supine on the ground. Despite the world seemingly turning around her, she hastens her steps, half-desperate, half-terrified to get to the body who she only wishes isn't Quinn's.
Mike, despite the utter distraught in his face has half the mind to already dial 911. Rachel feels like her head has been submerged in water, and she vaguely hears what Mike is saying to the operator, but she's thankful for his presence because she is dazed and at an utter loss of what to do.
The small brunette tries not to stumble as she forces weak legs to get to the body. There are no lights around, but the moon is bright enough to provide decent illumination. She fights the urge to vomit when, as she gets closer, she realizes that the girl's hair, though bathed in red, is blonde in color. Just like Quinn's.
An anguish sob escapes her lips as she gets close enough to have a clear view of the victim's face. It's one she recognizes so easily now.
"Oh God…"
Quinn's face, as well as the rest of her body, is covered in blood, bruises and cuts. She appears to be unconscious, and Rachel fights the urge to pass out herself. The blonde's white blouse and pastel blue skirt are both unceremoniously torn in many parts, exposing most of her battered body to the world. Her left hand is painfully angled in a weird way.
Shaking uncontrollably, she kneels down and dazedly arranges Quinn's skirt to give the broken girl as much decency as she can get, trying her hardest not to be drowned by the sight of angry bruises marring the inside of Quinn's thighs and the blood between her legs. She tries very hard not to think about what that could mean.
In fact, there's blood everywhere, and as Rachel trails her wet eyes upward she notices that a lot of them are coming from two deep wounds, as far as the light allows her to see, in Quinn's stomach. More bruises and cuts cover Quinn's torso, which seems to have taken most of the damage.
"S-she's been stabbed," Mike suddenly appears beside her, voice shaking, face dumbfounded. Too shocked, angered and broken at this sudden turn of events, she has almost forgotten about him. The boy surveys Quinn with his phone's flashlight and Rachel releases another sob as she gets a clearer view of Quinn's state. Whoever did this, they made sure to shatter her. "We s-should t-try to s-stop the bleeding," Mike adds shakily. "I have a-already c-called 911 and sent Santana a text; they're all c-coming."
Rachel nods, although she isn't sure she hears everything. This is too much to process. Quinn's ribs do not look right, in fact Rachel can tell that many of them may be broken, but what knocks her breath away are the letters, more than an inch tall each, carved on her upper stomach.
WHORE.
More tears prick at Rachel's eyes and she angrily clenches her fists so hard she feels the skin of her palms break. Only monsters would be able to do something as atrocious as this.
Mike puts the flashlight down and kneels beside Rachel, and as he takes off his shirt, Rachel takes the chance to check Quinn's pulse. She tries to steady her shaking hands, desperate to feel any sign of life from her friend. She wouldn't know what to do with herself if she loses the girl.
"Q-Quinn. P-please….Please…" she cries, desperation and terror lacing her voice.
Mike's head swivels toward Rachel, crumpled shirt in his hands. His face suddenly goes as pale as the clouds. The dread is his expression is something Rachel will never forget; she's certain of that.
"Is she…," he asks, too afraid to complete his sentence. …dead.
Releasing a sob, Rachel shakes her head. "I t-think I can feel her pulse, but it's b-barely there."
A little bit of relief washes over Mike's face as he nods at her. "The a-ambulance is coming," he tells her, swallowing bravely, before using his shirt to press down on Quinn's wounds to stem the flow of blood.
The sound of a quiet, pained whimper makes Rachel's heart skip a beat.
"Oh my God, Quinn," Rachel cries, eyes flying toward Quinn's face. There's blood flowing from a cut in Quinn's forehead, and some oozing from her nose and the sides of her mouth. She's deathly white, telling them just how much blood she has already lost. Rachel is afraid to touch her, scared that she might hurt her more, but she longs to comfort her, too, so she very gently cups Quinn's bruised cheek with one hand. Her skin is as cold as ice, much to her chagrin. She wonders how long she's been here; she must be freezing.
"Hey," she tries again, trying to distract Quinn from her anguish. "Quinn, don't worry. We're here to help you."
Quinn whimpers again, mostly from pain, but there's no mistaking the terror in her weak utterance. Her body starts shaking badly. She must be so hurt. Cold. Terrified. Rachel's chest twists in pain for her friend. Quinn's not opening her eyes, seemingly too weak to do so, but her face twists in immeasurable agony and fear, and Rachel hurries to help ease her pain in whichever way.
"Q-quinn, it's just me. It's me – Rachel. Shhh. You're okay now. I'm here. Help is coming."
"P-p-p-please d-d-d-don't h-h-h-hurt m-me," Quinn wheezes hoarsely, before dissolving into a frightening coughing fit that cruelly takes its toll her. Blood gushes from her mouth as she coughs, making Rachel curse uncharacteristically.
"This isn't good," Mike says. "She has several broken ribs. They must have punctured her lungs or something."
Rachel's insides churns at this new information. "Where's that damn ambulance," she hisses.
This is definitely a wrong move because Quinn's whimpers grow stronger and more desperate. Rachel immediately regrets her actions. She doesn't mean to scare her. "Shhh," she soothes, tearing up. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I didn't mean to get angry. It's okay…You're okay. Help's coming."
Quinn just coughs again, spewing out more blood and wheezing pitifully after. Rachel gently rubs her chest to calm her coughing, careful with the cuts and bruises littered there.
"R-R-Rachel?"
She tries her hardest not to sob. Quinn has finally realized it's her, but she sounds so weak. Helpless. Broken.
"Yes, Quinn. This is me. You're safe now."
"R-Rachel, I-I'm s-s-sorry." Tears are leaking from the side of Quinn's closed eyes and Rachel wants to burn the world for hurting her friend like this. Not after everything she had to go through in the past. The blonde has survived a lot in life, but Rachel has no idea how she can survive this.
It hurts her to think that Quinn will probably never be the same again.
"N-no," she answers. "None of this is your fault. Just hang on, please."
"H-h-hurts," Quinn moans, her good hand lifting a bit to hover at her stomach where most of the pain must be coming from. Her teeth are chattering. Rachel carefully catches Quinn's hand so she won't hurt herself further.
But the action makes Quinn panic and with as much strength as she can muster, she tries to pull her hand away, moaning in pain brought by the movement, and wheezing as her heartbeat picks up in fear.
The girl is going in and out of lucidity.
"N-n-n-no. S-s-sorry."
"This is just Rachel," the brunette repeats. "You're safe. No one's going to hurt you."
Quinn's battered chest continues to heave in anxiety. "C-c-c-cold," she breathes out.
"Help is coming, Quinn, don't worry," Mike assures her.
His voice only scares Quinn more, and she desperately tries to move with the little strength she has, only to scream in pain from her futile attempts to get away. Mike backs off immediately, terrified.
"Quinn," Rachel cries following the blonde, but careful not to touch her. Quinn's body convulses for a few terrifying seconds and then goes still. Very still. Rachel reaches for her pulse only to feel it fainter than it did earlier. There is no response from the blonde when Rachel tearfully calls her name over and over again.
The ambulance arrives a minute later, Santana and Brittany a few seconds after. Rachel is going deaf, she's certain, blankly watching everything in slow motion. She thinks she sees Santana being restrained by a staff before Brittany calms her down with a desperate hug.
The four teens can't do anything but cling to each other as the paramedics try to bring life back to their broken friend.