Chapter 1.~ 'Slow Me Down'
It was a typical mid August night for Quinn Fabray. All summer, she had been staying up throwing herself Harry Potter Marathons, and tonight was no different. The house phone rang, and it was a pleasant surprise. Ever since Russel moved out, the Fabray household barely ever got phone calls. Quinn popped a few more kernels into her mouth, pausing the movie and hurrying to the phone. Answering it on the fourth ring, Quinn answered the phone. Before she could muster a formal greeting, she was greeted by Hiram Berry's husky but pleasant voice.
"Hello, is Miss Fabray here?"
"Yes...this is Quinn speaking. Mr. Berry, is that you?" Quinn asked timidly. She had been rather shy around men ever since Puck knocked her up.
"Yes, well, I have some, um, uh, news for you." he said, fumbling over his words.
"It's about Rachel, um, obviously. She's in the hospital, and well, we read her text messages. She was asking for you."
Hiram said nervously into the receiver.
A flood of emotion washed over Quinn, a million thoughts racing through her mind.
Why was Rachel in the hospital? Was she okay? Why did she ask for her of all people. Even though Quinn was interrogating herself brutally, she mustered an 'I'll be there ASAP' before hanging up.
Judy Fabray was a hardcore alcoholic, so waking her from her rest didn't seem like a good idea. Instead, Quinn wrote her a polite note, before heading out to the hospital.
Rachel Berry was a well kept girl, every time Quinn had seen her, she looked neat and organized. While lying in a sea of white cotton, Rachel looked severely disheveled. Her chocolate brown locks were strewn across the pillow, in knots and matted in several places. What shocked Quinn the most was the line of evil black stitches, barely holding together a deep slice across Rachel's throat. Quinn couldn't see the rest of the damage done to Rachel's body, but then again, she didn't really want to.
Rachel was quiet, deathly silent for probably one of the first times in her life. It made Quinn feel rather uncomfortable, than at ease. Rachel had this blank expression on her face, it was almost peaceful. But Quinn couldn't look at her body and just pretend that the girl was sleeping.
"Life support. Fucking life support! I swear if I catch wind of whoever did this to my baby girl I will wring their necks." Leroy Berry said, storming into the room. Quinn had only seen a mad black man once, and that was when Mercedes' father had found out that her father kicked her out. But Leroy Berry gave it a whole new name. He was livid. Quinn's heart went out to him, she understood the tether that held a parent and their daughter together. A somber pang felt in her chest.
"Quinn, Rachel's in a Coma right now, well if that wasn't obvious. She's erm on Life support too...again obvious. Well if you want to talk to her, we'll leave." Hiram said, sputtering nervously while following his husband out into the nearly empty hallway.
'Talk to her?' Quinn thought. Was that some kind of sick joke? Because it wasn't funny. It wasn't as if Rachel was going to reply. She was basically dead. Somebody had killed Rachel. No not killed, murdered.
Quinn walked over to Rachel's bed, leaning over and examining her. She was so beautiful, even if she was 75% dead. A wave of warmth rushed over Quinn, and her emotions got the best of her. Next thing she knew, her lips were on top of Rachel's. Quinn was kissing her helplessly, as if she could transfer some of her life into Rachel. For a moment, it was as if Rachel had been kissing back. Rachel's eyelid's fluttered briefly after Quinn retreated, but then she fell back into her rest.
Quinn's eyes were like big green dinner plates a top her pretty little face. She kind of resembled Dobby, if you thought about it. She couldn't fathom what she had just done. It frightened her to no end. Quinn knew she was in love with Rachel. Nearly everyone knew, she was the worst secret keeper in the world. Even Rachel knew, and that's what made it worse. Fighting back regretful tears, Quinn ran out of the hospital room, and all the way to her car.
As soon as Quinn got into her car, she was shaking with tears. Gasping for breath, she leaned her head against the steering wheel, hopelessly sobbing. Tidbits of memories flickered in her mind like stars against a moonless night. Rachel was just fine the last time Quinn had seen her. Quinn spotted her up at the lake a few weeks ago. Rachel had seemed her usual self. So had Finn. Quinn was seething on the inside though. Rachel should have been at the lake with her, not frankenteen. But in Quinn's world, life didn't work out in her favor. It never did. It did a fabulous job of reminding her constantly too.
Who had done this to Rachel though? Of all people, Rachel didn't deserve this. Quinn did. Rachel was nice to people, constantly. Even if they tried to cut her down, she was so overwhelmingly nice and forgiving. Maybe that's why Quinn thought she was so damn beautiful. Quinn had a lot of skeletons in her closet, and she knew that. She wasn't the perfect girl she seemed to be. She was so broken beyond repair on the inside it was rather hopeless. But all Quinn could think about was Rachel. Beautiful Rachel. Smart Rachel. Talented Rachel. Perfect Rachel. But this was typical for Quinn. Ever since she gave birth to Beth, the only person on her mind was Rachel. Quinn knew she wasn't straight. Quinn knew that she didn't like Sam. Or Finn. Or Puck. But they were just her gay beards. Now that Finn left her for Rachel, and Rachel had so kindly accepted, Quinn's life was 10 times harder than it ever had been. It's hard watching the one you love go after someone else so willingly. It's super hard keeping her secret, but only a select few have been realizing that she's been slipping through the cracks.
After Quinn got a grip of herself, she realized she saw shadows outside her car. No, not shadows, a shadow. Who the hell was lurking around a hospital parking lot at midnight? Luckily, Quinn conveniently kept a pocketknife tucked away in her Vera Bradley tote. She grabbed it quickly, along with her cellphone and crept out of the car stealthily. Making as little noise as remotely possible, she looked around the car, holding her breath. It was only Santana. It was Rather sketchy that Santana was pacing behind her car but, it didn't make a difference.
"Santana." Quinn said breathily.
Santana whipped around quickly, as if she didn't realize Quinn's presence. She was dressed in an oversized 'Dance!' Sweatshirt and sweatpants. Her dark hair was in a messy bun a top her head, and her makeup was everywhere.
'Looks like someone was having a little fun with Brit.' Quinn sniggered quietly to herself.
No. That was extremely wrong and depraved of her to think of two of her best friends in such a ...naughty way. It was none of her business, but it was just extremely obvious.
Santana was staring at Quinn with her usual snarky stare. Maybe it was the wrong time for Quinn to be daydreaming about her best friends. Actually, it was always the wrong time to to do that. Quinn nudged around a few stray pieces of gravel with her shoe, and sighed.
"Why are you stalking me, outside of my car, in the middle of the night." Quinn asked exasperatedly. It was bad enough that Rachel was basically dead and Santana had came out of her way just to make Quinn feel even worse.
"I'm not stalking you Q. If you just give me a second to explain, hopefully you'll-"
"Just cut to the fucking chase San."
"Alright geez, cool it blondie. I...I hope you realize that Berry's not there on accident. Rumour has it that she attempted suicide. But...It's not like that."
"Of course it's not like that! If Rachel wanted to take her life, she wouldn't have slit her fucking throat!"
'Wait a second...' Quinn thought quietly to herself, her perfectly arched eyebrow raised in suspicion. How did Santana, of all people, suddenly know so much about Rachel? Santana hated Rachel with a burning passion. Everybody knew that. It was obvious. Since when did Santana 'Lima Heights' Lopez listen to silly rumours spread about notoriously by Mercedes and Kurt. Britt had supposedly made Santana a better person. Quinn couldn't deny the change in personality, even if it was slightly brief.
Quinn was two slight movements from slapping Santana, because Quinn just knew she had hurt Rachel. Santana didn't work on motive, Santana did it for pleasure. Hazing was her specialty. But this wasn't hazing. It looked like attempted manslaughter. But Quinn's conscience got a hold of her mind just in time. What if Santana was still armed? Santana wasn't stupid, she could easily make it look like an accident. Quinn thought better of her instincts. Instead, she quietly dismissed herself and drove home.
Quinn Fabray had a plan.