Sick, Sad, Messed Up World

by heartbreakhemo

Two shot. AU: Quinn tries to explain to Santana some warped world in which they sleep together. It's gross and depressing but that's the nature of their 'what if' game. Later, Brittany and Rachel try to play it themselves but it doesn't work out so well since Brittany finds the diva boring. Brittana/Faberry love. Quinntana/Brittberry friendship. I own nothing.

1. Glee

"Why the fuck would I ever sleep with you?!"

"It's called 'Sick, Sad, Fucked Up World' for a reason, Santana."

"Ugh. Fine.", Santana releases a drawn out sigh. Quinn always comes up with the craziest scenarios in their game. She sits back against the armrest ready to hear the batshit. "Well, if that were to ever happen, Britt and I wouldn't be together, as per usual... Why aren't she and I together in this world?"

Quinn sits back on the opposite side of the couch, leaning half of herself into the arm rest, so she's partially facing Santana. She's got this scenario only somewhat thought out. "Um... She didn't graduate with us and you went that school in Kentucky and...", Quinn looks just beyond Santana as she thinks and then smiles proud at her reason, "you looked at some fairly unattractive girl and smiled. You had a, quote, 'energy exchange'."

"I fucking looked at a girl and smiled?! I didn't even cheat?! How the fuck does that mean we aren't together?!"

"I don't know. You wanted to be mature and..."

Santana scoffs as she interrupts, "And what? Being in a long distance relationship isn't being mature? I'm assuming Britt stayed in Lima to complete her credits, right? Being that this world sucks ass..."

Quinn nods and adds, "You didn't even know she wasn't graduating or that she had a zero point zero gpa."

"What? First off, I would so know if she wasn't graduating. Second, is that even possible? What about Cheerios? How could she be in any extra curriculars while failing everything?"

"In 'Sick, Sad, Fucked Up World' anything and everything is possible, Santana.", Quinn takes a second to flesh out the scenario in her head as Santana just sits and lets everything sink in.

"Also, Sue is pregnant, even though we all know she has no uterus. She'll say that she let B slide due to her baby hormones. As for why no one else took the initiative to help B with her grades and stuff...", Quinn sighs dejected at her lame but truthfully realistic reasoning, "they're just a bunch of selfish assholes."

"Ouch." Santana bows her head shamefully at her now restless and fidgeting hands in her lap.

"I'm not saying you're an asshole." Quinn takes a breath as she adds sheepishly, "I'm still not sure why you wouldn't have helped her or why you wouldn't have known she needed the help. You two were girlfriends but even more than that, you two were bestfriends." Quinn gives Santana a shy, genuine smile. She knows her close friend takes these crazy stories to heart sometimes.

Santana sends Quinn a small thankful smile before she rests her hands a little more collected. "So... We aren't together because she couldn't graduate with a zero point zero gpa and I went to Kentucky, where I exchanged some weird ass energy with some ugly chick and..." Santana's eyes widen, her recently calmed demeanor transforming to one of panic as she remembers an essential detail, "God, how did we break up?"

Quinn winces as she recalls the story she came up with. She takes a calming breath as she begins, "You came to Lima after the exchange to do laundry. You go to the school and you're in the choir room. Brittany meets you there. You explain to B that that's where you fell in love with her... That you counted the number of days she'd smile at you and die on the days she didn't." Quinn realizes she had somehow ended up looking down at her own fidgeting hands and looks up at Santana. She feels a pang of guilt when she sees her dear friend wiping a lone tear from her eye. Quinn returns her gaze to her hands as she adds in almost a whisper, "You sing her a slow and sickingly beautiful version of Taylor Swift's 'Mine' before explaining to her the energy exchange and why you two should have an unofficial, but pretty much official, breakup."

"That's all sorts of fucked up, Q.", Santana states firmly. Batting her eyes at the ceiling, wrangling in the tears.

"I know."

Santana settles back. They sit there in silence. A breath could barely be heard between the pair. Quinn is almost certain this round of their fucked up game is over. She's about to change the subject when Santana straightens her slumped shoulders and takes a deep, loud, steadying breath.

"As much fun as all that was, why don't you fast foward to how the hell we end up getting it on?"

Quinn pretty much just wants this game to have never even happened but knows that look on her friends face. Santana's curiosity has peaked and she has to know. The blonde straightens herself up aswell before locking eyes with Santana.

"It's Pillsbury and Schuester's wedding."

"Of course." Santana waves her hand dismissively as if it were the most clichéd of scenarios.

"Britt is dating Sam!" Quinn rushes out, annoyed by Santana's reaction to the wedding. She takes another calming breath, preparing herself for the outburst.

"Um. Excuse. You. FUCK. NO. There's no fucking way I would let Britt date that fucking smug ass, guppy faced, one trick pony who buys his fucking Bieber knockoff hoodies from the little boys section at Walmart! That kid knows nothing about how to treat a woman, especially not my BritBrit. That douche would probably lay down a fucking line of cereal for her to follow, where he'd have a glass of milk waiting for her, and think he was being romantic and cute. The trail most likely leading to an empty classroom," she barely registers Quinn saying something about Sam loving empty classrooms before finishing up exasperated, "so he could sing some duet, where his pop shit vocals overpower her adorable alto, to profess his undying and instantaneous love for her. Probably after only crushing on her for a few weeks."

"Not where I was going with it but sounds good. But not only does he do that, he tells her that you were only ever so mean to him because he had been crushing on B all along.", Quinn concludes with a tight lipped grin.

"Right because he wasn't all over you, me and Mercedes junior year... Why the fuck did he even come back to Lima in the first place?"

"That's irrelevant."

"It's fucking ridiculous and unnecessary."

"That too but it gets better..." Santana narrows her eyes but Quinn just smiles brightly, "You come back to Lima, again, to confront them both and when you do, you pay some cheerleader to pretend to be your girlfriend!"

"As if." In true Santana fashion, she crosses her arms over her chest and rolls her eyes.

"Right?" Quinn all but burst into laughter at that then continues, "Who knows why the hell you did that, B knows from the start that you were lying. Anyway, you challenge Sam to a sing-off and destroy him!"

"Obviously."

"Then when he tells you to just give up, that he has Brittany and you had your chance, you dramatically pause and simply state, 'Never' and it's so 'feels' inducing and true."

"I wouldn't have ever let her go to begin with, especially after all that Artie bullshit, but okay..."

"San..." Quinn cocks her head in annoyance, telling her to just listen, "Anyway, you do give up when B tells you she's not breaking up with Sam. She wants you to follow your dreams by going to New York and tells you to go because there's people like you there, that you have a set community. She wants you to find a real girlfriend but not a bestfriend because she already fills that position."

"She fucking FRIENDZONES me?!", Santana jumps up to her feet, throwing her arms into the air.

"After pushing you toward your dreams." Quinn states calmly.

"Well, yeah," Santana slowly lowers her arms, "Britt's always done that for me. Helping me come out to you guys, then our parents, the school... Secretly getting me those scholarships for all those random schools just to make me realize that I didn't even want college, I wanted New York..." She slumps back down on the couch, her voice low and broken, "But why the hell would she friendzone me? Even when she had chosen Artie over me, she never said we were just bestfriends."

"Santana..." Quinn can see the tears threatening to break free from dark, lost eyes. "Sweetie, it's just 'Sick, Sad, Fucked Up World', it's not real."

Santana gives a hollow and almost humorless laugh, "Yeah, I know. But it still hurts."

Quinn sighs, "I know. Should we stop?"

"No," Santana puts on her resolve face. "I want to know how the fuck we happen because it still doesn't make sense. I mean, they obviously go to the wedding together which means I would most likely be drinking. Definately no way this would happen while I was sober. Not in any world."

Quinn nods as she jumps back into the story, "Pillsbury's a runaway bride but the reception's already paid for. We get drunk there and I prove how much of a whorey and horny drunk I am by putting the moves on you first."

Santana shakes her head disapprovingly, "You'd never drink, Q."

"I got drunk and let Noah Puckerman impregnate me.", Quinn deadpans.

"You were 16, Q. And you learned your lesson. You wouldn't even drink at Berry's lame ass party."

"I wish I had...", she mumbles remembering what happened that night and wishing she had at least got a buzz to make the memory hazy.

"Oh, please... You've witnessed worse." Quinn gives Santana a 'really' look so Santana continues, "What? I'm sorry, okay? We thought you left. Like, really left, not just to the bathroom."

Quinn rolls her eyes at the lame ass excuse even all these years later, "And that justifies you two having sex on stage while the rest of the glee club were passed out?"

"It wasn't the entire club.", Santana says matter of factly. "Finn, Kurt, Eyebrows, Puck and Zizes had already left..."

Quinn was done with this. She decided to just go all in, explain that that world's Quinn was crazy. Maybe then Santana would get it. Nothing ever good happened to her in that world.

"The Quinn in that world never learned anything from her pregnancy. It's almost like it never happened.", it's a cold statement that has Santana ready to argue but Quinn puts up her hand and continues, "She literally fought you to become head Cheerio again, after exposing your boob job to coach. She dated Sam instead of retaining her independence. She got with Finn just so she had a shot at junior prom queen. Nothing goes her way so she bitches and moans and almost single handedly ruins everyone's shot at Nationals in New York. Instead you and B convince her to cut her hair. How that worked, I don't know. New Directions loses either way and the following year she quits glee club, dyes her hair pink, becomes a Skank, and eventually rejoins glee club but only to attempt an elaborate and insane plot to steal Beth back."

Quinn takes a moment to breathe and Santana knows what's coming next. It's what always comes next in Quinn's 'Fucked Up' scenarios.

"I fall in love with Rachel along the way and do everything in my power to stop her from marrying Finn after learning of their engagement. I do everything except profess my love... Eventually I stop trying and cave, become a bridesmaid, text and drive on my way to the wedding and get hit by a truck. Now I'm in a wheelchair and may, or may not, have a thing for Artie." Quinn laughs and shakes her head at what she's come up with next, "I inexplicably let Teen Jesus rub his boner on my thigh because apparently he knows how to rehabilitate and restore sensation in my legs through his almighty Jesus boner. Eventually I hook up with Puck one more time too, after regaining my ability to walk..."

It seems like she's done but then a sudden thought occurs to her, "Oh! I find out I can walk around prom time. You know, you and I are both running because duh." Quinn beams and Santana's a little lost as to why she changed the point of view of her story and why she's so happy but Quinn just continues, "We rig the votes. Rachel wins prom queen. She's shocked and disbelieving. She has no clue what we did. What I did for her... And God, she is so beautiful, S." Quinn breathes out the last bit in awe. Completely mesmerized by the images in her head.

Santana lets Quinn bask in her weird Rachel Berry obsession/love glow for a minute before clearing her throat. Quinn snaps out of it and continues her story a bit hasty and rushed, due to her slight embarrassment at getting carried away in her thoughts.

"I buy train passes as proof that I'll go visit her often from New Haven to New York."

"But you don't."

"Nope. Not until Kurt calls up saying she's considering doing a nude scene in a student film. You get the call too and we both go because in this world, you and B have a sex tape." Santana gives her a 'point being' look so Quinn clarifies, "B put the tape online."

"She would never do that!"

"She does and everyone sees it and it shows up when you google your name. You explain that to Rachel. But, you know what, forget all that... I'm dating my married professor for awhile and he's a pig." Deciding she doesn't want to get into the sex tape bullshit, she finally cuts to the chase, "At the wedding, I decide that I hate men. Instead of going for Rachel, I make the choice to ruin my relationship with my bestest frienemy."

"Wow. You choose to ruin an already iffy friendship over finally getting the woman you love? You must really hate that worlds Quinn.", Santana chuckles out humorlessly.

"Severely."

"So, we have drunken sex because I'm lonely and heartbroken and you're a psycho, self hating, self destructive, manipulative bitch that insists on ruining anything decent in her life?"

"Exactly.", Quinn states sadly.

Santana considers all this before concluding, "I bet the sex is terrible. Like, absolutely no chemistry or connection because that Quinn is bipolar and borderline evil."

"We have sex twice."

"Ewww! Why?!", Santana exclaims completely disgusted.

"What better way to destroy The Unholy Trinity forever? A one time drunken lay is bad enough but a two time thing is just sick."

"God, Q." Santana just shakes her head, "You are one cold ass, heartless bitch. Not in a good, badass way either."

"I know."

A random thought formulates in Santana's head, "This all sounds like some lame ass stunt to increase ratings on some tv show that continued way past it's expiration date."

Quinn laughs at this, "Our high school years as a tv show... All that glee drama started around sophomore year, yeah? That would make that the 4th season."

"Fucking tragic."

"Extremely tragic."

"What's tragic?", Brittany's sleepy, sweet, angelic voice wafts into the living room.

Santana's face is instantly bunched with her Brittany smile as she opens her arms, inviting Brittany to some much needed cuddles. The tall, exuberant blonde gives her a small, reserved smile as she makes her way over to the couch, over to her soul mate. They settle into one another in an instant, as if they were only meant to hold each other. Santana enquires in a whisper, into her lovers ear, if her mid evening nap went well to which Brittany hums affirmatively.

Quinn stares mystified by two of her closest friends, wondering how she could ever come up with such a fucked up world knowing that these two could never survive without one another. Knowing that they were made for each other and always belonged together, a two shot. Stupid fucking scenario.

"A tv show not knowing when to quit is tragic." Brittany breaks her trance from Santana's deep, soulful, gentle and loving eyes at the sound of Quinn's somber voice.

"That 70's Show?", Brittany enquires but Quinn shakes her head. "Two and a Half Men? Although, I don't think that show was ever really great to begin with..."

"Not quite what we were discussing, baby.", Santana coos gently into Brittany's ear, wrapping her arms tighter around the blondes stomach as Brittany snuggles her back further into Santana's front.

"Although, I'm certain it would be on Fox...", she adds almost as an afterthought before explaining, "Q and I were playing 'Sick, Sad, Fucked Up World', the extremely fucked up edition apparently."

"That sounds... bad. What the hell kind of game is that?"

Quinn feigns shock as she pulls her hand to her heart and asks with an accusatory tone, "You never played 'Sick, Sad, Fucked Up World' with Brittany?"

"No. Dipshit." Santana spits as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "There's no point. It wouldn't work. Being anywhere near Britt makes everything beautiful, vibrant, and otherworldly perfect; exactly how she is. How could I come up with some fucked up scenario of a life, to the person I love, when I've got everything I've ever wanted wrapped up securely in my arms everytime I welcome the day?"

Brittany looks up lovingly into Santana's stubborn and set eyes, from her shoulder. She tilts Santana's head toward her, guiding the brunette from her chin. They lock eyes before slowly leaning into one another, lips meeting in a passionate, deep, far from chaste, yet quick kiss.

Brittany's the one to pull away, leaning her forehead against Santana's temple, whispering dreamily into her ear, "I'm so in love with you, Santana Lopez."

Santana brushes a gentle kiss to Brittany's forehead, inhaling the scent of her sweaty from sleep, tangled, floral smelling hair, "I'm so in love with you, Brittany Pierce. Proudly so."

"Jesus, you two are so sickeningly cute, it actually hurts." With that, Quinn shatters the moment between the lovers.

"Don't hate Fabray. Man-hands Berry will be here soon enough and you'll get your cuddles on too.", Santana states smugly as Quinn blushes.

She's still adjusting to people openly discussing her and Rachel's intimacy, no matter how innocent. The slight shyness lasts all but a second before she realizes what Santana just called her girlfriend. She's about to lash back when she sees Brittany give Santana a pointed look.

"Santana..." Santana looks over at Brittany for a second, pouts, sighs, then quickly mutters out an apology to Quinn. She says that she's sure Rachel's hands are probably perfect, in size and shape in Quinn's mind, then smiles innocently.

Well, it was sort of an apology and most likely innuendo. Brittany either doesn't notice or knows, like Quinn, that that's the best they're gonna get. She decides to let it slide, "So how does this game work and what's the point?"

Santana explains, "The concept is a lot like 'Anywhere But Here', you know, like that game Buffy and Willow play?"

Brittany quickly nods her head telling Santana to continue, "Well, since Q and I are already so happy with you and Berry, all we kept coming up with were places we'd like to visit with you guys. It was like we were planning vacations and it got boring fast."

Brittany turns her attention to Quinn when she continues the explanation, "That's when we came up with a charming twist on the game. Basically when something isn't going too great in our lives, we come up with some scenario in which our life is worse. Nothing obvious though like..."

"Like being homeless on the street or not being able to afford food, living paycheck to paycheck. It has to be upsetting but more creative and elaborate than that."

Quinn affirms Santana's statement and adds, "We pretty much don't have you or Rachel as our respective girlfriends in each scenario and they all start sometime during sophomore year. It's always guaranteed 'teenage angst' upsetting and makes us realize how perfect our lives are. Puts every tiny problem we have into perspective."

They exchange nods, proud of their game and explanation, as they await Brittany's reaction. It comes fairly quick.

"You guys are twisted," She flashes a proud smile to her girlfriend and her friend then adds, "I'm not knocking the game, because it's totally you two... But you should really change the name."

Quinn immediately scoffs, offended, "What's wrong with 'Sick, Sad, Fucked Up World'? I came up with that, you know..."

"I had wanted to call it 'Hell'." Santana sighs, readily agreeing with her girlfriend.

"That's lame!", Quinn admonishes.

"Fuck you, Fabray! You're fucking lame!"

"Well, you fuck this lame girl twice, Lopez!"

"Yeah, in your twisted, fantasy version of HELL.", Santana reiterates slowly to Quinn who sits there seething. The name she came up with was uncharacteristically badass. She was proud of herself with that one. Now she has to change it because Santana is so whipped by her adorable blonde girlfriend.

"Gross.", Brittany states the obvious with distaste, then looks at Quinn with apprehension and attentiveness in her features, "It's not a bad name, Q."

Damn, that girl can read anyone like a book.

"It's just really long.", Brittany smiles timidly and just like that the thick atmosphere in the room vanishes. The Brittany Effect.

"What do you suggest, B?", Quinn returns Brittany's smile as she asks.

"Well, all these scenarios take place around high school, right? While we were all in glee club...", Brittany trails off, her eyes bright, wide, and sparkling.

Santana and Quinn exchange amused looks, anxiously waiting for Brittany to give their game a new name.

Brittany claps her hands together excitedly and proclaims, "Glee!"

Quinn's jaw drops open slightly as her eyebrows furrow a bit and a smile slowly takes over her face, "That's actually really kinda perfect! It's ironic and just brilliant, B!"

She rolls her eyes playfully as the blonde pops her chest, squares her shoulders, sets her jaw and presents her fist in the motion of a fist bump. All very gangsta, very thug, and not at all Brittany, but she still manages to pull it off. Only Brittany... Quinn shakes her head and smiles as she knocks fist with the silly blonde.

"It's absolutely genius!", Santana exclaims proudly as she pulls her lover snugly back against her. She begins to turn Brittany over, enough to see her face clearly, their bodies never losing an inch of space between them through the process.

Somehow managing to bring Brittany even closer she gives her her cheek bunching, dimple producing smile. She leans into Brittany, eyes locked, "Britt, you're such a genius," she whispers, knowing her girlfriend is too good to be true. She ghosts her thick, full, parted lips over Brittany's, "and it's such a fucking turn on...", she husks before bringing their lips together in a heated kiss.

Sounds of lips smacking, soft moans and gasps immediately fill the room. Quinn is about to make her presence known when Brittany straddles Santana. It's a lost cause. She quickly rushes to Rachel's room when Santana's hands find Brittany's ass while Brittany simultaneously begins to tug off her own shirt.

In the room she quickly jots down a note, rushes out of the room. She frantically sprints past the living room, eyes covered, praying she doesn't run into anything and wills her mind to block out any noises her friends are making right now.

She makes it out safely and slips the note under the 8 of the apartments number 18 and heads out.

20 minutes later and Rachel is finally getting home. She stands outside her apartment door about to fish her keys out of her coat pocket when she sees a note with her name, written in Quinn's elegant handwriting.

The tiny diva takes a moment to let her heart soar but the moment is abruptly cut short when she hears an uncharacteristically loud explicate demand from her blonde roommate through the door, "Oh fuck! Yes, San! Harder! Right there! I love you so much baby!"

Rachel quickly retreats outside her apartment building, eyes wide. She's been living with Brittany and Santana awhile but their spontaneous love making sessions still catch her off guard. She shakes unsettling memories from her head as she unfolds the note.

Hello my star, as you probably heard, your roommates are going at it like bunnies in the living room again... Probably the kitchen too, knowing them. You left your phone home, hence, the letter. Anyway, since our plans for a relaxing night in are a bust, I figured we could finally check out that Italian place you mentioned the other night. Meet me there. Much love, Quinn.

Rachel smiles, finding it incredibly amazing that she finally has a lover that listens to everything she says. Even some offhanded comment about a restaurant she wanted to visit weeks ago. This is it. She and Quinn are the real deal, she can feel it. It's a heavy feeling, one filled with so much hope and many promises. Promises she wishes to exchange with girlfriend as soon as possible. There's only one problem...

Rachel always forgets her phone, yes, but Quinn never carries a wallet. Something about 'Fabray woman never' blah, blah, blah. Rachel doesn't take money with her to work either since that one incident that one time. Nope. Their money is stashed safe away, in her bedroom... back in the apartment.

Rachel sighs as she walks the few blocks to the restaurant. Quinn will have to settle for a nice, free stroll through the park instead.