Title: Letters to Will
Rating: eh...PG-13ish. If a chapter contains violence or adult-situations, I'll make note of it.
Spoilers: Nope. AU after season 1.
Featured Characters: Quinn, Finn, Rachel, Kurt, Blaine, Puck, Santana, Mercedes, Sue, Emma, and Will.
Pairings: Quinn/Finn, Rachel/Finn, Quinn/Will, Kurt/Blaine Mentions of Santana/Brittany and Will/Emma.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Literally. All characters are property of Glee.
Summary: Sequel to Found the Devil in Me. Quinn Fabray is determined to start a new life while Rachel Berry struggles to hang on to her old one. When your life is shattered, sometimes it takes years before the pieces can come back together.
Notes: This is the sequel to Found the Devil in Me. If you haven't read that, this probably isn't going to make much sense. Just like it's predecessor, this story is going to jump between flashbacks and current time.
* … * … * … * … * … * … * … *
Prologue:
May 1st, 2013
Will,
You've been gone for two and a half years. You've been dead for two and a half years! Except...not really, right?
Did you think I'd get over it?
Did you think I'd get over you?
Is that why you did it? Is that why you ran?
I fucking hate you for this. With everything I have, I hate you for this.
You broke your promise.
...You broke me.
Rachel called Finn. She called about twenty times before he actually picked up. I don't know what the hell she thought she would gain out of doing all of this. This isn't the first time that she has claimed to have tracked you down through that stupid website of hers. Finn didn't believe her. I didn't believe her. How could you be in San Diego when you're dead?
And then she sent the picture...
I don't even know what to say...what to write...what to feel. Two days ago I was laying on my bathroom floor trying to cry as quietly as possible so that Finn couldn't hear me...because I missed you so badly that I couldn't breathe. I didn't want him to know even though sometimes I can hear him cry too. This has hurt so much for so long and now I learn that it was all a lie. You didn't die. You didn't jump off of that bridge. You didn't want to end your life. You just...you just didn't want me.
Why didn't you want me?
Why wasn't I enough?
Why didn't you let me help you?
Why couldn't you stay dead?
Why...why do I want you back?
I'm as crazy as you probably still are.
Q.
* … * … * … * … * … * … *
Rachel Berry is not a quitter.
There is a strength and determination deeply imbedded in her soul that most people find off-putting and irritating. Even so, when she wants something, she works and fights and struggles until she can finally claim her prize. For seventeen years, this determination served her well. Sure, most people didn't like her (and still don't) but when she joined Glee club, she was finally able to find a group of friends who accepted her – liked her even - rigid perfectionism and all.
And then one chilly July morning before Junior year, everything went to hell.
She lost her friends. She lost her mentor. She lost her boyfriend.
She lost everything.
After Mr. Schue left that November, she spent a few months wallowing in self-pity. Who wouldn't? Most of the Glee Club wouldn't talk to her. Finn wouldn't even look at her. She was completely alone.
Her grades slipped, she stopped singing, she stopped dreaming of Broadway.
And then one day, out of the blue, her determination came back with a vengeance. If she wanted her friends back, if she wanted Finn back, if she wanted her life back – she was going to have to work hard to find a way to make that happen. She was going to have to find Mr. Schue
She soon learned that it's almost impossibly hard to find a person when they go out of their way to make it look like they are dead.
Since then, she has become disgustingly used to disappointment and rejection. So used to it in fact, that she expects it on a daily basis. She doesn't expect this day to end any differently.
Still...she can't give up. She won't give up.
She adjusts the straps of her backpack and tucks her hair behind her ear as she enters the rather large bed and breakfast. Pulling the printed email from her pocket, she rechecks the name – Kathy Bigsby – of the woman who contacted her three days prior.
She knows the drill. Some crazy person finds her website, notices the hefty reward that Sue Sylvester has offered up, and then sends an email claiming to know where William Schuester is hiding. She drops everything, books a flight, and goes to investigate. She's been on eleven of these trips over the past two and a half years and every single one of them turned out to be some nut job just looking to score some easy money. They find a look-a-like, take a picture, and then after she's flown in to meet him, they claim that he's run off to some backwards town and cannot be found.
Lies. Always lies.
"Can I help you?" A round woman with a kind face emerges from the back room carrying a clipboard and a steaming cup of coffee which she places on top of the cluttered check-in desk.
"I'm Rachel Berry. I received an email from..."
"Yes, yes, sweetheart." The woman interrupts, extending her hand towards Rachel, "Hi, I'm Kathy."
Rachel shakes the outstretched hand warily, "Your email said that you may know where our fr..."
"No, no, not 'may know'..." she interrupts again and Rachel struggles not to roll her eyes in response, "...'definitely know' is more like it. Look, I wouldn't have contacted you at all except I think it's probably what's best for him. I wouldn't do anything to hurt Jack...well, William, I guess, but he's...well, I think it's time that he went home."
Rachel sighs and folds her arms over her chest protectively. She doesn't like this overly pushy woman.
Ironic.
"He's a sweet, sweet man and I don't want to hurt him but he's looked so sad lately and I caught him crying last week. I can't be sure of course because he doesn't talk but, I think it's because he's been missing his family." She fiddles with her keys as she speaks but never breaks eye contact with Rachel.
"I'm sorry but I'm not following completely." Rachel shakes her head slightly and tries to stomp down the irritation of having her time wasted again. She should be studying for finals not dealing with thieves and liars. "How did you find my website?"
"A few months ago I had a couple from Columbus stay here. The woman mentioned to me that Jack looked like a missing man from Lima named William Schuester. I googled his name, found your site, and saw his picture. I knew right away that he was our Jack. Such a sad, sad story. I think he needs the type of help that he can't get here with us. I love him to death and I owe him so, so much... and I think this is how I need to repay him."
"So he's here?" That's a new one. She's never actually been able to meet one of the imposters before. Rachel isn't hopeful though. She's been hopeful too many times and she knows better. The only thing that makes this woman's story any more plausible than the others is that she mentioned that her phoney doesn't speak.
"Of course. He and my daughter are painting the bedroom down the hall on the left right now. Maybe you should go back and surprise him?" She smiles nervously as she waves Rachel around to the other side of the desk.
Rachel moves slowly in the direction that the woman has pointed. She didn't actually expect to meet anyone except the woman who had emailed her. She suddenly wishes that she had asked Puck or Santana to join her. What if this is some sort of trick to kidnap or murder or rob her?
She pulls her phone from her pocket and clutches it tightly in her hand just in case she needs to dial the police in a hurry. She knocks quietly with her free hand and the voice of a young girl answers from behind the door, "Hey, mom, you have to see what Jack taught me. It's really neat."
Rachel takes a deep breath and swings the door open.
She isn't sure what she was expecting but it definitely wasn't the scene that greets her.
Paint cans and used rollers are strewn around the room. Kathy's daughter – a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl around eleven and currently covered in paint is sitting on the floor holding a guitar that is much too big for her. Sitting across from her, clutching a matching guitar - his back to the door and his face not visible - is a man with pale skin and a head full of curly, light brown hair.
The kid looks up when she realizes the person at the door isn't her mother. She startles but then smiles kindly. Her voice is very sweet, "Hi, sorry, I thought you were my mom. Are you staying at the inn? The rooms are upstairs. I can show you if you're lost."
"No. I...uh...I'm..." Rachel stutters, speechless. She can't take her eyes off of the man. The hands, the hair, the way he's holding the guitar – it's all so familiar – but it's the little gold cross dangling by a black nylon string around his wrist that causes her stomach to flip and her fingers to shake.
It's Quinn's cross.
She swallows hard, braces herself for the whatever is going to happen, and then takes a step closer, "Mr. Schue?"
Instantly, his fingers tighten around the neck of the guitar and his back goes rigid. As if in slow motion, he turns his body around enough so that he can get a look at the person at the door from over his shoulder.
Their eyes lock – terrified green with glistening brown – and remain that way. She doesn't say a word. He doesn't either.
She shakily raises her phone and snaps a picture.
She's found him.
Finn will finally forgive her.
She can finally have her life back.