Author's Note: This is based on a prompt I found on alsoimanerd's Tumblr. This features fiercezucchini's Lion!Quinn, Zombie Apocalypse!Quinn, Dork!Quinn, and Serial Killer!Quinn. It's sort of a crack!fic, but it's not at the same time. I've defied all laws of nature in this one. Big thanks to Miko Akako. Seriously, you are an awesome beta. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it.
Of Inconsistencies and Continuities
Part I
Quinn didn't know why, but ever since she had woken up at her usual time, she still had a damn headache. Not any mundane headache where she could just relieve it with two painkillers and apply Head-On—not that the product worked anyway—all over her forehead, though. If Quinn were to describe it, it was a sidesplitting, excruciating kind of headache that would rival every headache combined in the world. It was that bad.
She assumed this was karma. Her latest bacon binge eating in front of a television showing reruns of Pokémon while plotting her latest ploy against Shelby last night was not good for her mind and body and maybe this was nature's way of saying that she should just kill herself before she went crazy. Or maybe she was crazy. After all, Quinn was going back and forth between a manipulating bitch to being a genuine person who liked being around glee club.
Okay, that last part was a lie.
Her real intention was just to be around Rachel. She had Finn to do all that, much to her distaste of the boy. Plus the fact that her plan of talking Rachel out of sleeping with the gigantic jock didn't turn out so well, she was even more a mess than she was.
Damn her, Tina. Just damn her.
But it was all Rachel's goddamn fault with her goddamn pouty lips and her adorable laugh and her sexy lip biting action and her flirty smiles and her amazing voice and her big, beautiful brown eyes and her flawless legs that tempted Quinn since day one to lick her in so many different kinky ways in all the inappropriate places and-
Quinn growled under her breath at the thought of Finn being the first one that touched Rachel. She was supposed to be Quinn's and Quinn's alone. Why didn't she make the first move? She was not a weakling. Finn was a lumbering T-Rex compared to her—
Oh, God. It hurt.
But screw Finn. It was now or never. She should win Rachel's heart. Maybe she should have gotten her a flower or something. Like a Pokémon flower with a note saying, "I choose you". That would make Rachel melt. Or maybe a limited edition twenty-three karat gold plated trading card. Or maybe—
It fucking hurt.
Maybe she should have stuck with pink hair, being badass and all. She would get a katana and a shotgun to complete the look. Maybe a pair of Mamba pistols and an M249 SAW. And a Ducati. Rachel would fall for her. She would.
Wait, did Finn just look like a zombie just now—
Shit!
Quinn's head was now pounding in pain. It was not a good time for thinking about Rachel and… what was she thinking about before Rachel again?
Just looking at Finn made it even more insufferable. She had the sudden urge of killing him, like stabbing him in the back with a hunter knife.
No. That would be too quick for her taste. Maybe dousing him in gasoline and lighting him up would satisfy her.
No. That would be too clean. Maybe cutting him up limb by limb with a butcher knife would do.
Yes. Messy was good. And it would be painful and—
"Oh, God." Quinn raised her hands to the both sides of her head, chanting, "Just make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop."
"Quinn? Are you alright? Your skin color is more pallid than usual. Do you want to sit this game out?"
There were many voices talking—fighting?—in her head all at once, telling her that Rachel's presence was right there beside her with her soft, delicate hand on the small of her back.
Quinn stared at the dodge ball in Rachel's other hand as her arms flopped back down to her sides.
It resembled a Pokéball just now.
Ignoring her current notion, she looked up and as always, Rachel was breathtaking. She sighed inside and the throbbing pain subsided.
She managed out a, "Yeah, I'm fine."
Rachel tilted her head, a line forming between her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"
Quinn nodded, trying to keep her emotions in check.
"Hey, Rach, what's up with Quinn?"
Quinn's eyes shut, trying to not think. It was Finn. And the pain was back in full force.
Quinn winced, trying to fight back a growl threatening to come out of her mouth. Quinn ground her teeth, her jaw clenched as she tried to act like she was fine. All the effort from it made her sweat.
"Yes, I… think she's fine."
Quinn opened her eyes and tried to cast a glance on—
A T-Rex.
Blink.
A zombie.
Blink.
A soon-to-be victim.
Blink.
A Magikarp.
Blink.
Finn.
"What do the hell do you want, Finn?" Quinn asked. She didn't want to come off as bitchy but she couldn't help it. "I told Berry I'm fine. So just back off."
Finn backed away and Rachel's eyes widened.
"Whoa, Quinn," Puck said, approaching the trio. "Just chill alright? Finn didn't do anything to you."
Quinn scoffed and rolled her eyes. Ugh, even rolling her eyes hurt like hell. Before they could even go further to their conversation, the whistle blew, gathering everyone's attention.
Well, good news was, the headache was gone. The bad news was that she was roaring and dancing around like some spaz on the court, she was having hallucinations of zombies, animals, blood, and Pokéballs flying around. All at the same time.
She was going bipolar—no, she was going quadrupolar, if that was even a word.
Quinn was gone. Sort of.
All she cared about right now was Rachel, who was a very easy target. She would be hers soon. She grabbed a Pokéball from the ground and threw it at her with a roar.
And time just stopped. Literally.
And when Quinn clamped the ball between her right arm and side, intent on keeping her somewhere where no T-Rex had gone before, she ran out of the gym. And when she ran out of the gym, everything moved again.
Everyone was left there scratching their heads and looking around.
No one noticed the red flash. No one noticed Rachel being sucked into the ball. No one noticed that it defied just about everything in this world.
And no one would notice that what would happen after that was even more impossible.
Because in the secluded hallways of McKinley, Quinn's body went limp and lifeless, her eyes rolling back as her vision then faded to black.
Dork Quinn all but ran, trying to find the safe place for her new catch that was Rachel. A few more hallways and she would be free.
"I think you have something that's… mine," Serial Killer Quinn said with a smirk, not even looking up at Dork Quinn. Instead, she admired how the knife just fit in her grip. "Give it to me."
"No." Lion Quinn appeared out of nowhere with a growl. "Jewfasa is mine."
"Christ. Put some clothes on, will you?" Zombie Apocalypse Quinn also appeared out of nowhere with her shotgun and katana slung over her right shoulder. "And yeah, give me Rachel."
Dork Quinn was cornered, but she wasn't going to give up. She had Rachel within the palms of her hands—literally.
She turned her Ash Ketchum cap backwards, turned on her heel, and ran the other way. Lion Quinn chased after her all the while shouting, "Jewfasa is mine! You do not challenge the Lion Quinn!"
"Oh dear." Serial Killer Quinn shook her head, her smirk still in place. She ran her fingertip across the sharp blade. "She's making this even more exciting."
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn fished out a cigarette and a lighter from her pocket. "You're crazy, you know that?"
Serial Killer Quinn laughed and promenaded down the hallway opposite to where Dork Quinn went. "May the best Quinn win?"
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn placed the lit cigarette between her lips, sipping the gas. "You know—" smoke blowing out as she said those words. "—that's not the right way."
"I know." Serial Killer Quinn, not bothering to look at her direction and just continued walking, distancing herself further and further from her other self. And that was all she said as she disappeared.
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn stood there for a while, running her hand through her pink hair and at the same time deciding whether she should follow a deranged person that was going to kill her if she wasn't careful or a naked person running around the school that was going to violate her in a very disturbing way.
And with that, she unsheathed her katana and went through the hallway where Serial Killer Quinn went.
A relieved Dork Quinn made it to the somehow already unlocked car unscathed with the Pokéball. With a grin, she felt her pockets.
"Looking for these?"
Dork Quinn froze in place, catching a glimpse of Serial Killer Quinn jangling her keys using the rearview mirror.
"How did you—"
"Oh, I have my ways," Serial Killer Quinn said.
"Oh, please," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said, lighting another cigarette within the enclosed space. "It was at the gym."
She stared at Zombie Apocalypse Quinn. "Do you want me to put you on my list?" Serial Killer Quinn drummed her fingers on the white binder she was carrying around.
"Sure." Zombie Apocalypse Quinn shrugged, exhaling out the smoke. "But just remember, I have the bigger sword here."
"Look, I'm not going to give you Rachel," Dork Quinn said before she rolled down her side of the window, glancing at the the glove box compartment ever so often. The smoke was suffocating her. "Even if it kills me. I won't give her to you."
"Well, that can be arranged," Serial Killer Quinn said, her knife glinting in the sun. Dork Quinn gulped. Maybe she shouldn't have said that.
"So you're just going to kill yourself that easily?" Zombie Apocalypse Quinn asked. "She's just as much as a part of us as we are a part of her."
"You kill zombies, so why do you care?" Serial Killer Quinn twirled the hilt between her index finger and thumb. "All I care about is Rachel."
"I care about Rachel, too," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said. "But you're probably going to kill everyone who's going to look at her. Even if they're innocent. At least I'm going to protect her from evil. She should be with me."
"So, basically you two are going to put Rachel in danger?" Dork Quinn asked. This was Rachel they were talking about. "She should be with me. At least she's going to have fun with me. We're going to have video game marathons and go on road trips and go to conventions and stuff."
"Please," Serial Killer Quinn said, putting her knife back between the pages of her blood splattered binder. "You have her encased in a red and white ball. How is she going to have fun?"
"Guys."
"At least Rachel wouldn't have to hide in some sick, demented basement you're going to put her in and molest her."
"Guys."
"I would never do that to her. We will have a beautiful life together. Unlike you."
"Guys."
"Are you implying that I don't have a life?"
"Of course. Look at that. What is that? A stripper?"
A gasp. "This is a limited edition Lopunny T-shirt."
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn rolled her eyes. She took the cigarette out from her lips and flicked the hot cigarette ash on both of their arms.
"Hey! What gives?" Dork Quinn dusted them off with one hand, the embers stinging her.
Serial Killer Quinn didn't even budge, looking at Zombie Apocalypse Quinn. "I'm going to kill you if you do that one more time."
"As much as I want to argue that Rachel should be with me…." Zombie Apocalypse Quinn pointed straight ahead. "Look."
And there, Lion Quinn sprinted straight towards them. "Jewfasa is mine!"
With a pounce, she landed right in front of the car with a sickening thud.
"I was wondering where she disappeared," Serial Killer Quinn said, after Lion Quinn face planted on the window shield.
"Okay, even though we have the same, well, everything." Dork Quinn grimaced, turning on the wipers to fend off Lion Quinn. "I do not want to see that."
"We have to get her inside the car," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said as she watched Lion Quinn break the wipers in half with ease.
"No way," Dork Quinn said, leaning back on her seat and shielded herself with arms when Lion Quinn scratched the window as if it was going to get her in the car. "I am not going to put that… thing in the car."
"I hate to say it, but I have to agree with her," Serial Killer Quinn said.
"There's no point in fighting with me. The lumbering idiot's here."
Sure enough, there was Finn looking for his girlfriend and shouting her name like that was going to help. He still didn't notice the four of them, though.
"I can kill him right now, you know," Serial Killer Quinn said, rolling out a surgical set of knives out of her binder. How many knives could that binder hold? "I already have an x-ray of his whole body. I can kill him as slowly and as painfully as possible."
"No. Just no. Too messy."
"Messy is good." And once again, the demented smirk was on her lips. "I can finally have his head and have it displayed in my room."
"And have the whole school discover the rest of Finn's dead body on the parking lot?"
Serial Killer Quinn shrugged, the smirk still in place. "I'm just suggesting."
"And once again, no," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said and looked at Dork Quinn. "Get her in the car."
"But—ugh. Fine." She reached out through the already open window—why didn't Lion Quinn go through here anyway?—and tried to grab Lion Quinn's arm to pull her in.
"Ow!" Dork Quinn retracted her left arm and gawked at the both of them. "She bit me!"
"You're such a baby," Serial Killer Quinn said.
Dork Quinn pouted. "Well you do it, then."
"Why should I do it?"
"We don't have time for this," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said and got out of the car. She threw the cigarette away and gripped Lion Quinn's arm, getting her out of the hood.
"You cannot tame the Lion Quinn!"
"Oh, just shut up. And stop yelling," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said. She wasn't as strong as Lion Quinn but her reflexes were much faster, so that was a major advantage on her part when she tried to bite her shoulder. With a skillful push through the open window, Lion Quinn flopped face first on Dork Quinn's lap. "There. Now drive and let's meet up at our house. We'll settle this once and for all."
"Oh, God." Dork Quinn put her hands up and turned her head away, cringing as she did so. "Can you get her off of me?"
Serial Killer Quinn decided to work with Dork Quinn this time. Finn was getting closer. With Lion Quinn strapped with two seatbelts tied around by Serial Killer Quinn like a straitjacket and Dork Quinn was given the car keys to start the ignition, they were ready.
"You getting in or what?" Dork Quinn asked after she had started the car.
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn shook her head and pointed at the lone motorcycle on the parking lot with her thumb. Dork Quinn and Serial Killer Quinn nodded.
With that, Zombie Apocalypse Quinn jogged towards the Ducati and straddled it. With a flick of a wrist on the key, the engine hummed to life.
"Show off," Dork Quinn muttered when Zombie Apocalypse Quinn did a wheelie before she sped through the campus and to the road.
"I cannot be restrained! You have Jewfasa! She's mine! She's—"
Serial Killer Quinn muffled any Lion Quinn's protests with another seatbelt tied around her jaw. "There."
One of the few things that also changed was her room. Quinn Fabray's room wasn't like Quinn Fabray's room anymore.
With the exception of the bed, it was as if it was split into four, as if it entered into four different dimensions at once—closets containing different clothes, a gaming station and collectibles, a makeshift space that resembled something that was for surgery and corpses, another space that stored weapons, and….
"A rock? What's a rock doing here?" Dork Quinn asked, approaching it after she had tossed the ball onto the bed.
Serial Killer Quinn shrugged, running her fingertips through the cool stainless steel countertop.
"No," Lion Quinn said, smacking her hand when Dork Quinn reached out to touch it. "Mine."
"Why you little—"
"If you start fighting, I might have to nail you two on the wall."
"…Fine." Dork Quinn gave one last glare to Lion Quinn as she rubbed the back of her hand before turning around and walking over to her gaming corner.
"What took you so long?" Dork Quinn asked, her eyes never leaving the television screen, when Zombie Apocalypse Quinn sat down on the floor next to her. A now dressed Lion Quinn was on the bed chewing on the Pokéball Rachel was in, much to Dork Quinn's amusement. Serial Killer Quinn was there by the window, scribbling new ways of killing Finn on her binder.
"This." Zombie Apocalypse Quinn showed her a packed box.
"Just die already," Dork Quinn whispered at the game before pressing pause. Assassin's Creed would have to wait. She looked at the box and at her. "What is it?"
"Just open it."
With one single rip, a Call of Duty: Black Ops Limited Edition case was there in front of her.
"No way," she breathed out. "How did you get this?"
"Just don't ask," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said before snatching it back. "So will this get me Rachel?"
"Wait… you're bribing me?"
"You're bribing her?"
Even Lion Quinn had to stop gnawing her way through the ball.
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn stood up and raised an eyebrow at Serial Killer Quinn. "Problem?"
"Of course there's a problem." Serial Killer Quinn also stood, putting her binder down on the bed. She approached Zombie Apocalypse Quinn. "You were the one who's being all civil in the car and now you're playing dirty?"
"I'm just using tactics," she said, now face to face with Serial Killer Quinn. "You're just jealous that you didn't think of it in the first place."
"Okay, as much as I want that," Dork Quinn said, also standing up. "Rachel's mine and you all can't have her."
"Jewfasa is mine!" Lion Quinn jumped off the bed. "She's always meant to be with me. Not with some—"
All four were squaring off in the room when they all realized something. Or someone to be exact.
Finn Hudson.
"I guess we're all missing the big picture here," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said when everyone went dead silent. "We actually forgot about Finn."
Serial Killer Quinn nodded. "We may be different but we have a common enemy."
"Yeah, we should get rid of him," Dork Quinn said.
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn looked at each and every one of them. "We may want Rachel as much as the next Quinn, but we don't know about Rachel wanting us. We have to get rid of Finn. I love her and he just doesn't deserve her. She deserves me."
"You mean us," Serial Killer Quinn crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her other foot. "Not exactly the kind of pep talk I want to hear."
"We have to team up."
"We have to protect Jewfasa."
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn agreed. "I guess that's settled then."
"We should have a name for our group," Dork Quinn said with a grin. "Like Squad 7."
"Do we really have to?" Serial Killer Quinn rolled her eyes, pulling out a peeling knife. "We should just go and skin him alive right now. Or I could castrate him. That would be entertaining."
"Just exactly how many kinds of knives do you have?" Zombie Apocalypse Quinn asked.
"I'd show you." Another deranged grin and a sadistic sparkle in her eyes. "But then I'd have to kill you."
"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Lion Quinn jumped up and down, flailing around. "Lion Quinn needs Jewfasa right now."
"Oh, right." Dork Quinn gave out a sheepish grin, grabbing the ball before releasing it as if she was burnt. She glared at Lion Quinn. "Did you really have to slobber all over it?"
"Jewfasa is my territory."
Rachel was sure she was dreaming. Sure, she didn't have any recollection of what happened during the dodgeball game but she was sure that their explanation was ludicrous.
There were four of them in front of her.
She was tied to a chair.
Yup. Rachel was dreaming.
"You're not dreaming, Rach. There are really four of us in front of you," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said, holding Lion Quinn down in her seat so she wouldn't pounce on Rachel.
Rachel burst out laughing. "Okay, okay. I need to wake up right now."
Serial Killer Quinn raised an eyebrow. "You're awake, I assure you that."
"Okay, so this is not a dream?"
"It's not a dream."
Rachel nodded. Maybe the dream would end if she would just roll with it. "Okay, so this is not a dream. And there are four of you?"
"Yes, there are four of us. We are four of the many personalities of Quinn Fabray. You can call us the FABRAYS collectively. It means Forces Against Berry, Rachel Avoiding Your Seduction."
"I'm the one who thought that up," Dork Quinn said with a proud grin.
"Wait, wait. What do you mean by four of the many personalities? You mean there are more of you in here right now?" Rachel surveyed the room, anticipating for another batch of Quinn Fabrays to come out of the closet or something.
"Well, yes and no. There are only four of us. But the others aren't here."
"What?"
"It's kind of hard to explain. Let's just say we're the most… needed at the moment," Serial Killer Quinn said.
"And why are four of you needed?"
"It's because we're here to protect you," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said.
"And you're here to protect me from…?"
"From the T-Rex! Lion Quinn must protect you from the T-Rex!"
Rachel's brow crinkled. "What? Who?"
"She meant Finn," Serial Killer Quinn said.
"And why, pray tell, should you protect me from Finn?"
"Because he doesn't deserve you. You need to break up with him."
Rachel laughed harder after a short pause. The four of them frowned at the reaction. "This is ridiculous. This is a dream. It must be a dream."
"I'll kiss you to prove that this is real," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said, smiling at her.
"What? Oh, no way you're going to, stud! You can't just charm your way through! You're an opportunist, you know that?"
"If any one of us should kiss Rachel first, it should be me," Serial Killer Quinn said.
"Lion Quinn must mate with Jewfasa right now!"
In the midst of the heated argument, Rachel Berry decided to maybe just fall off from the window and maybe that way, she could wake up and get back to Finn. She shimmied out of the loose rope tied around her torso and arms, falling backwards as she did so.
"Ow," Rachel sat up before her hands planted on the ground to support herself. The pain made her doubt even more that this was a dream.
All four of them turned to the sound, stopping midsentence.
"Hey, Rach? You alright?" Zombie Apocalypse Quinn was the first one beside her, her hand on her shoulder.
"Do you need painkillers or anesthesia?" Serial Killer Quinn was also on the left side, her hand on her forehead. "I have them, just so you know."
"Maybe we could play video games." Dork Quinn was squatting right in front of her, grasping her hand. "It always makes me feel better whenever I fall down or get hurt."
"You're hurt." Lion Quinn was also behind her, her chin resting on her free shoulder. She looped her arms around her waist and sniffed her hair. "I won't let the ground hurt you again."
Rachel blushed, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering around at the undivided attention she was given. The fact that she had this effect on all four of Quinn Fabrays was flattering.
"Oh my God," Rachel whispered. Her eyes broadened. The touches were too real. Much too real. "This is real."
It couldn't be. She was here with four Quinn Fabrays. This was all too much. She needed to go home.
"Great, now you three scared her away," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said as she peered through the window, watching Rachel power walk through the neighborhood. She wanted that damn kiss. Was it too much to ask? Just a three-second kiss. Maybe not a three-second kiss. Maybe an hour? Screw that. A whole day would be great.
"I can't believe you tied the rope like that!" Dork Quinn yelled, pacing around the room. "Because of you, she ran away!"
"I can't possibly tie the rope tightly around her," Serial Killer Quinn said. "It would hurt her delicate, beautiful honey skin."
Dork Quinn stopped and glared at her. "Well newsflash, genius, she still got hurt when she fell down."
"You will pay for hurting my Rachel!"
"Try me." Serial Killer Quinn grinned at them and Dork Quinn and Lion Quinn couldn't help but get goose bumps from that alone. Serial Killer Quinn took out a cleaver. "I'd hack your bones off first before you're able to do that. And then there will be two less people I'll have to worry about. Also, I won't have to share Rachel that much when it comes to eating her out."
"Eat her out." Just from those words alone, Lion Quinn licked her lips as if she could already taste Rachel.
Dork Quinn stammered out a, "Eat… eat her out?"
"Why yes." Serial Killer Quinn grin grew wider. "Eat her out. She'll taste lovely. And she'll look amazing in bed with her eyes shut tightly and mouth open when I drive into her with a strap-on, my name only the sounds coming out from her lips."
Dork Quinn could feel all of her blood rush to her face at that. Oh, God. Did Serial Killer Quinn just sound poetic? But thinking about it made her conclude that sweet, ravishing sex with Rachel Berry would be a gazillion times better than the time when she had gotten through The Labyrinth in God of War 3 in one trial without a walkthrough.
"You're drooling."
Dork Quinn blinked and scowled at Serial Killer Quinn, wiping the drool off of her face. "No way am I going to let you violate Rachel with you and your kinks. I will, at least, take it slow with her."
"What do you know about sex anyway?"
"I-I know enough," Dork Quinn said.
Serial Killer Quinn laughed. "Huh. Right."
"Lion Quinn will dominate and mate with Jewfasa first!"
"While I do say that my combination of end-of-the-world sex and live-like-we're-dying sex with Rachel Berry will trump all of yours…." Zombie Apocalypse Quinn turned around to look at the three. "We're basically back to fighting for Rachel and who gets to fuck her senseless first, and we haven't done anything yet."
"So?" Dork Quinn sat down on the bed. Lion Quinn did the same and crossed her arms with a huff.
"So we need a foolproof plan on winning Rachel first before we can do any of that."
"And how are we going to do that exactly?" Serial Killer Quinn asked. She wanted to have hot, kinky bondage sex with Rachel, damn it. And she wanted it now. And kill every person who would lay eyes on Rachel. "All I'm good at is making murders look like accidents."
"All I'm good at is technology."
"I am strong!"
"In my world, we survive by utilizing our strengths and in turn, enhancing them," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said. "But since there are no zombies around to train, I don't know what we should do. Any ideas?"
Dork Quinn broke out into a lopsided grin. She waved the forgotten Call of Duty around in the air. "We've got the next best thing right here."
"No, you hit the button right there! And… you just killed yourself." Dork Quinn sighed as she watched Lion Quinn's character die. They were not listening to her. At least Zombie Apocalypse Quinn was getting the hang out of it and was pawning everyone—well, not as much as her since she was the greatest gamer on the planet if she would so humbly put it. The other two, however, were getting on her nerves.
"Okay, why are you using a knife? You have full ammunition."
"They die more beautifully that way."
"Lion Quinn hates this!"
"Oh my God, don't destroy my limited edition TRON controller!"
"Okay, if we play'I Just Can't Wait to Be King' one more time, I'm going to stab everyone in this car right now with my table knife and it's not going to be pretty," Serial Killer Quinn said, whipping out the said knife and swiped it over to the butter and to the bread.
Dork Quinn leaned her head on the car window before singing a line, "I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and gay…."
"You didn't have breakfast?" Zombie Apocalypse Quinn asked, turning off the player so Lion Quinn, who was riding shotgun, wouldn't rape the replay button for the umpteenth time. Lion Quinn frowned at that but the blinking marquee lights that spelled 'fresh meat' caught her attention.
"No, because someone ate all the bacon in one sitting." Serial Killer glared at the three of them.
Dork Quinn shot her a sheepish smile. Lion Quinn scowled at her. Zombie Apocalypse Quinn stayed quiet.
"Say, why aren't you riding your motorcycle? And where are we going?"
"It'd be too obvious if we're going to spy on them." Zombie Apocalypse Quinn pressed the brake down when a red light appeared. "And to answer your other question, we're going to Breadstix. Rachel and Finn are on one of their usual Saturday breakfast dates right now."
"Don't put Finn near the word 'date' whenever you say something." Dork Quinn frowned. "Actually, no. Don't put Finn anywhere near Rachel whenever you say something. And how did you get that information anyway?"
"From my binder," Serial Killer Quinn said. "I keep things up-to-date."
Lion Quinn bounced on her knees as her whole head peered out of the open window, feeling the wind blowing her hair. She stared at another sign as they passed by another meat shop. "Honey ham…."
"Again, we're not stopping by for three hundred grams of honey ham," Dork Quinn said.
"We're here."
"Finally." Serial Killer Quinn bit off a piece of her toast and got out of the car, intent on getting her usual breakfast that composed of bacon, eggs, coffee, bacon, more toast, and bacon. Or maybe just bacon after all.
"Where do you think you're going?" Zombie Apocalypse Quinn asked.
"Inside. I need more notes and I need to eat. Besides, you'd be too obvious with your pink hair."
She had a point. But still….
"Lion Quinn must kill T-Rex!"
Before Lion Quinn could ram herself out of the car door, Zombie Apocalypse Quinn reached out and fisted her yellow cardigan.
"And where the hell do you think you're going?"
"No," Lion Quinn whined, resisting the strong hold of Zombie Apocalypse Quinn as she tried to reach the car handle that was just mere centimeters away from her fingertips.
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn looked to Dork Quinn. "Go inside and follow her."
Dork Quinn shook her head, eyes widening. "No way! I am not going inside there and be alone with that nutcase."
"Okay then, I'll follow her," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said, her free hand picking up her sunglasses and beanie cap lying on the dashboard. They weren't sticking to the plan that much now. "You control her and stay here."
"On second thought, I think I'll go inside." Dork Quinn grabbed her bag where her costume was kept and got out of the car before Zombie Apocalypse Quinn would protest that her disguise was not going to work.
Oh, she would show her that it would work.
"So um… they're just talking about glee," Dork Quinn said, making small talk with the deranged woman across her. She had changed into one of her outfits and, when she had been out of the bathroom and on the way to their table, had tossed a microchip under the table where Rachel and Finn were sitting.
With her perfect disguise, no one would ever freak out.
"What can I get you Miss and uh…." The waitress wasn't sure who or what Dork Quinn was.
"I'm a stormtrooper?" Dork Quinn said and all she got was a blank stare. "You know, from Star Wars?"
Another blank stare and Dork Quinn exhaled inside her helmet. She couldn't believe that this waitress didn't know what she was. And people would dare tell she didn't have a life! Ludicrous.
"Uh, sure. As long as you order," she said after a long pause.
Serial Killer Quinn gave out a sweet smile while looking at the waitress. She said, "I'll just have bacon for today. A whole mountain of it, thank you."
"Oh! Me too."
Just as soon as the waitress left, Serial Killer Quinn's smile did too, resuming her scribbling on the binder and with Dork Quinn listening on the conversation through the built-in speakers inside her custom-made stormtrooper helmet.
Rachel facepalmed when Finn wasn't looking. How could they even be more obvious right now? Did the other Quinn think that a robot dining out so early in a small Ohio town with another Quinn Fabray was not out of place?
"Let's go," Finn said, standing up after he had paid the bill.
"Wait!" Rachel shot up, startling Finn.
"What?" Finn asked. She had to think fast before Finn would turn around and see the robot and the other Quinn.
"Crap, crap," Dork Quinn said, listening to the latest conversation. "I think we've been caught."
"Why wouldn't we be when you look like that?" Serial Killer snapped her binder shut and scooted out of her seat. So much for her bacon.
"Wait, what are you doing?"
"I'm going to handle the situation you started."
Dork Quinn put her palms on the table and leaned in towards her. "I did not start anything!"
"Could have fooled me."
"Can we just go through the back door?" Rachel almost wanted to beg, but being Rachel Berry, it wasn't in her to beg. She needed to protect Finn from them, which was ironic.
"Why?"
"Hello," Serial Killer Quinn said behind Finn's huge stature.
Finn turned around and Rachel panicked. She already had enough trouble of explaining to everyone that she had fainted and Quinn had driven her home yesterday. It was that or telling the truth. The former seemed to be a better option, just so everyone wouldn't think that she had gone off the deep end.
It was still all pretty incredible, when her fathers had to pinch her when Rachel still wouldn't believe them that she was awake. That didn't mean though, that the idea had sunk in her mind.
Seeing them for the second time still pretty much left her frozen and wide-eyed but she needed to act coolheaded in front of Finn. And this Quinn, who she still wasn't familiar with.
Why was she carrying a binder anyway?
Rachel squinted at the words written over the white cover.
Oh, God.
Her eyes widened. Was that her name?
"Quinn," Rachel said, her eyes flitting over to Serial Killer Quinn's face. A façade taking over her, she hoped that Finn didn't see what she had just seen. Her boyfriend was too busy staring at Serial Killer Quinn, though. That was good. "What are you doing here in this fine Saturday morning? No itineraries for today? "
There was an amused twinkle in her hazel eyes. She knew Rachel saw it, but she didn't want to say anything to scare Rachel. Finn, yes, but never her precious Rachel.
Instead, she replied, "No. Just need to get out of the house. How about you, Finn? Taking Rachel on a date to Breadstix? Really? Santana's obsession with this place been getting to you?"
Her tone wasn't venomous. Nowhere near venomous. It was friendly.
The blonde was friendly.
The blonde was friendly.
Finn was confused. She usually ignored them and now, here they were. Were they in an alternate world or something?
"Uh…." Finn stood there. "We didn't have any other place to go out and eat?"
"True." She nodded and held up her index finger. "Oh, and that's right, I'm sorry I disappeared yesterday. I had to take care of something."
"It's, uh, fine, Quinn. Thanks."
"Yes, it's fine. I already explained it to him just a while ago, but thank you for apologizing," Rachel said, fiddling with her fingers.
Serial Killer Quinn looked at her, a smile spreading across her lips. "I see. So, I guess you two are just about to leave. Was your vegan casserole delicious?"
Okay, Finn concluded that that was downright creepy. The vegan casserole was not on the menu. Rachel demanded them.
Finn gauged Rachel's reaction at that, but she didn't seem to mind the question. Maybe Rachel told her.
"Yes, we are just about to. So if you'll excuse us," Rachel said with a bright smile of her own, grabbing Finn's arm and half-dragged him to the back door.
"Hey, Rach," she said, just enough for Rachel to hear. Her head turned towards Serial Killer Quinn's direction despite herself.
With a smirk, she continued, "I'll see you both on Monday."
"Hey, did you just see that stormtrooper? Can we go back inside?" Finn's eyes were still glued on the lone stormtrooper shoving bacon under his helmet. Rachel was back to dragging him to where his car was parked. "Puck would be totally jealous if I have a picture with him."
"Let it go, Finn."
Their plan was a disaster. It was their first try. It wasn't anyone's fault. They didn't have the perfect plan and method yet.
Okay, who were they kidding. It was Dork Quinn's fault.
"Thanks to her and Rachel's quick thinking, Finn didn't discover us. I told you the costume wouldn't work. Did you even learn from the game?" Zombie Apocalypse Quinn stubbed the cigarette on the wall. She was surprised that Rachel covered for them instead of ratting them out.
She sighed and smiled to herself. Rachel was amazing.
"It wasn't all my costume's fault. And I'm best out of all of you, remember? We just didn't practice enough and we didn't have a good strategy in the first place," Dork Quinn muttered as she distributed her Yu-Gi-Oh! cards across the pristine floor. "Anyway, what are we going to do about weekdays? Who's going to school?"
"I will," Serial Killer Quinn said as she twirled her hatchet like some baton. "I already promised Rachel."
"What? No knife this time?" Zombie Apocalypse Quinn asked as she plopped down on the bed next to Serial Killer Quinn, propping her boot-covered feet on the protruding footboard.
"Nope." She smirked at her. "And back to point, I need to study Finn further."
"That's a lie," Dork Quinn said. "We all know you're just going to kill everyone in school sooner or later if we aren't around."
"Well, not everyone. Just the people who will talk to her, touch her, or look at her."
"Lion Quinn will go to school!" Lion Quinn stomped her feet on the cards.
Dork Quinn scowled at her. "Hey! If you do that one more time, I'm going to trap you in my Pokéball."
"No."
"I think we should take turns to scare off Finn at school. I'll go last and we need tracking chips." Zombie Apocalypse Quinn ignored the two, who were now wrestling on the floor. She looked at her weapons and patted them like they were pets. She had no use for them at all in this world. Even Serial Killer Quinn had to relate, being banned from using any weapons to kill anyone, just using them for intimidation.
"I have prototypes for that." She heard Dork Quinn groan out after Lion Quinn had clotheslined her.
"You don't trust me?"
"Of course I don't trust you," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said. "You're crazy."
"You know me too well," Serial Killer Quinn said. "But I'll be going first. And I'll have to be the one going to school for the meantime until we get it right."
"I will go second!" Lion Quinn released her grip around Dork Quinn's wrists and stood in a victorious pose.
"I'll go third, then." Dork Quinn was still lying on the floor.
Well, this was a miracle. They agreed on something.
"Good, we have that settled. We need to come up with better plans and strategies since our first trial with spying was just downright bad. We need to play Call of Duty again." Zombie Apocalypse Quinn got out of the bed and looked at each and every one of them. "This is our final year to get it right. We can't fail."
"Uh, guys," Dork Quinn said, ruining the serious moment.
"What?"
"I think I broke my back."
So after Serial Killer Quinn had rearranged Dork Quinn's back with a disturbing crack, they alternated between Call of Duty gaming hours, bathroom breaks, avoidances of Judy Fabray, fights over who Rachel would date out of the four of them, turns on who would bathe Lion Quinn, and turns on stalking Rachel and Finn for the rest of the weekend. After the meager time limit of forty-two hours, they now almost perfected weapon expertise, brute strength, stealth and charm, and battle strategy—not that they needed some of it right now anyway, but who would know. They needed to keep options open even though all they got to do was to woo Rachel Berry and protect her from Finn through nonviolent ways. In turns, of course.
What could one person expect, though? Compared to their own individual worlds, this one was horrifyingly easy. Sure, they had come across a few errors along the way, but that was because they weren't cooperative with each other now, were they?
And truth to be told, they weren't still that much cooperative.
Tolerant? Yes, but not much.
Buddy-buddy? No.
And since Fabrays were built to be possessive and competitive, they didn't want to give out any details on how to win Rachel Berry. The gaping hole of their logic was that, in the end, they had to share.
A solution to that was still a mystery.
"It's seven in the morning and we haven't gotten any sleep," Dork Quinn said, still in her yesterday's Pikachu pajamas.
Serial Killer Quinn was once again writing on her binder. "Lucky for you, I'm the one who has to go to school first."
"We have to get superhero costumes," Dork Quinn said. She surveyed the room in laziness—junk food and cigarette butts everywhere—and was surprised at the latter that she didn't die of suffocation from all the smoking Zombie Apocalypse Quinn had done.
"Lion Quinn thinks we should just go naked," Lion Quinn said. She was all curled up on the clothes piled on the rock, sleep almost overtaking her.
"I think we should just stick to what we are comfortable with," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said as she stared out of the window with an unreadable expression. When she heard Lion Quinn's sound of approval, she added, "But you can dress her up."
Dork Quinn was ecstatic. Lion Quinn pouted with her eyes now closed, but agreed nonetheless.
Anything for Jewfasa.
The plan was now a go.
With Serial Killer Quinn setting her sights on a lone Rachel Berry by her locker, she steeled herself with an innocent smile and a genuine aura, ignoring the students milling around the hallways.
"Hey, Rach."
Rachel's head turned to the voice. She closed her locker door with a soft click, still trying to comprehend everything as she looked at her. It was the Quinn she met yesterday. Where were the other three?
"You're usually talkative," Serial Killer Quinn said.
Rachel blinked. "I don't mean to be rude but where's…?"
"Why are you looking for them? I'm right here." Serial Killer Quinn pressed her binder tighter against her chest, her smile falling.
"I'm sorry," Rachel said. "I'm still getting used to the idea of four Quinns around but I don't know why I'm not reacting more hysterically than I should be. I mean, these kinds of things don't happen."
Serial Killer Quinn chuckled. "Well, you better get used to the idea of four of us."
Rachel gave out a small smile as a sign of acknowledgement. "So what should I call you?"
"I'm still Quinn, Rach." Serial Killer Quinn's eyes twinkled under the harsh lights. "Just not the kind of Quinn you want to mess with."
Rachel nodded. "I see."
This was pretty much still awkward and weird for her. It could be described as a lot of things but one thing it wasn't was normal. Here she was, talking to one of the four Quinns and she wasn't reacting like Janet when she saw Frank-N-Furter for the first time. Okay, maybe she had come close to fainting when she had seen them for the first time.
But that was beside the fact that Rachel was worried. Why wouldn't she be when they were here to scare away Finn, when they were her to break her and Finn up, when their relationship wasn't barraged with drama, cheating, and lies?
She wanted to know but at the same time she wanted to let this Quinn know how she felt about all this. Maybe she would understand.
Maybe she would.
"May I ask you a favor? I feel that I'd rather be direct with you right now before I end up regretting it in the future when things get out of hand."
Serial Killer Quinn raised an eyebrow at her but stayed silent, motioning for her to go on.
"I need you to stop whatever it is you're all planning to do with Finn," Rachel said. "I also need to point out that my relationship with Finn is not meant to be toyed with and that this whole thing is ludicrous. We aren't going to break up. I suggest that you just give us Quinn back so that everything will be back to normal."
A moment of silence enveloped between them and Rachel couldn't help but stare back at her. Rachel could see nuances on Serial Killer Quinn's features—jaw hardened and eyes blank. Her aura shifted to something that reminded Rachel of a psycho itching to kill.
And in those three seconds, it was gone; the smile was back on again.
"Then I should be direct with you, too." Serial Killer Quinn shook her head and said, "And my answer? No. I'm afraid I can't do that, Rach because you're missing the whole point."
Rachel scrunched up her eyebrows in perplexity. "What ever do you mean?"
At that moment, Serial Killer Quinn's smile transitioned into an arrogant smirk.
She leaned into Rachel's ear, whispering, "You're only asking yourself these simple questions but let me ask you this, Rachel." Serial Killer Quinn went even closer, the feel of Rachel's ear tingling her lips as she said, "Did you ever really wonder why there are four of us now? Did you ever wonder why we named our group FABRAYS? Did you ever wonder why Finn's a threat to us? Did you ever wonder why we need you and Finn to break up? Did you even consider that we might have feelings for you? More importantly, I might have feelings for you?"
Serial Killer Quinn's hot breath distracted her, but that didn't stop her from saying, "I-I have no idea what you're talking about."
"The classic denial card." She leaned back and laughed. "Rachel, people tell me I'm crazy all the time. One thing I do have to admit though, that I am crazy about you," she said, nodding to herself. "And if I have to prove to you that I love you, then I will."
With that, Serial Killer Quinn went on her way, leaving Rachel paralyzed for the third time.
Just in time, Finn's arm rested around her shoulder, catching her by surprise with his usual childish grin.
"Ready to go?"
"…Yeah." Rachel gave out a small smile.
After their intense conversation, she even had more questions than answers.
"Miss Fabray!"
Everyone's heads turned to her, including Rachel. Serial Killer Quinn looked up. "Yeah?"
Mrs. Hagberg frowned at that. "What are you writing?"
"It's nothing." She supported her head with an open palm as she leaned against her table and drummed her pen on the open pages.
"It's definitely not nothing, Miss Fabray," the teacher said, motioning her to come in front. "Why don't you share to the class what you're writing?"
Serial Killer Quinn glanced at Finn and at Rachel.
"…Okay." She stood up and went her way to the front. "But before I recite, I would just like to say this is dedicated to Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson."
A few students snickered, expecting to hear insults and jokes targeting the couple.
Were they wrong. And with that, Serial Killer Quinn recited:
There is a brunette, so beautiful and pure
Has a voice of an angel, a smile that could lure
And lure she does, a blonde that is me
A blonde, just waiting for her to see
So I wait and wait, but still unbeknownst to her
How the line between hatred and love to me is all but a blur
But alas, there was a lot standing in my way, but it was fun
At how I finished them one by one
First was Jesse St. James, strangled by his scarf, his blood mixed with the black
Second was Blaine Anderson, who never woke up again, a sneak attack
Third was Noah Puckerman, his mohawk shaved and his head turned to an angle one eighty
Fourth was Sam Evans killed with the cash she gave to him for Prom, choked by money
Last but not least, Finn Hudson, who I still get to kill
The ways I'm going to murder him, that is part of the thrill
So now I stand here, on my way to win her heart
So you better run, Finn, I'll even give you a head start
"Oh my God, Quinn! What was that?" Rachel power walked through the bewildered students, hot on Serial Killer Quinn's trail.
"What did I do?" Serial Killer Quinn asked, still walking.
"What did you do? What did you do? What did you not do!" Rachel flailed her arms in the air. "Mrs. Hagberg and Finn had to be carried to the clinic! You had our other classmates traumatized!"
"The poem's really mild compared to the other ones I wrote. They're overreacting." Serial Killer Quinn shrugged going into the girl's bathroom, Rachel still an arm's length behind her. "Out. Now," she said to the girls, who grabbed their things and took off.
"Quinn!" Rachel's voice boomed throughout the walls. "Why are you doing this? And oh my God, did you really kill them?"
"No. Not yet anyway." Rachel gaped at that. Serial Killer Quinn took out her brush and blush. "And I'm actually insulted that you're only focused on me killing the guys. Didn't you hear my first two stanzas?"
"That's beside the point! You were reciting poetry that centralizes on murder and killing and—"
"Love." Serial Killer Quinn dabbed the blush on her right cheek.
Rachel ran her hand through her hair. "You know what, if that's one of the ways to protect me from Finn, your endeavors will be counterproductive."
Serial Killer Quinn's smirk appeared once again, putting down her makeup in the sink. Her hazel eyes pierced through Rachel's brown ones through the mirror. "So you're admitting it."
"Admit what?"
Serial Killer Quinn turned around. "That you actually want to be protected from Finn. That you really want to be with us. With me."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did. You just did. Because you know, Rach," Serial Killer Quinn said. "You know that you're now just obliged to be with him forever because he has something that you can never have back."
"That's not true."
"Ok then, it's not true."
"…Are you using reverse psychology with me?"
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are. You're doing it again."
Serial Killer Quinn's smirk turned into a grin, resembling that of a Cheshire cat. "If you're accusing me of reverse psychology, then that means it's true."
Rachel's eyes widened at that and Serial Killer Quinn chuckled. "I know my methods aren't exactly expected and that you're still letting the idea of me and you together sink in, but I just love you too much for letting him get away with all this."
"Why do you keep telling me that?"
"Telling you what?" she could tell Rachel was steering away from the Finn topic but decided to go with it.
"That you love me. Quinn never showed any signs of interest in girls. And the guys and the pregnancy…."
"You don't have to be gay to be attracted to a person, Rach. It just so happens that I'm attracted to you. Madly so."
"But you… Quinn never made advances towards me before. This is all so…."
"Sudden?"
Rachel nodded. "…Yes."
Serial Killer Quinn raised an eyebrow. "That's why we're here. Why I'm here."
"But what exactly are you gaining from all of this? If, hypothetically, Finn and I would break up? To which I assure you though, that we will never break up, but I'm rather curious."
She leaned on the sink, crossing her arms. "Why don't I take you out on a date? Just you and me. I know a place where we can just think and talk about everything since you have so many questions."
Rachel frowned a bit. "I'm not fond of it being called as a date, Quinn."
"Oh, you'll warm up to it sooner or later." She lessened the distance between them, her smile back on again. "But was that a 'yes' on your part?"
Rachel's mouth opened and closed, not knowing what to say. It was a great feat achieved.
"Great. I'll pick you up at six."
Rachel was chastising herself inside. Not only had she agreed to go—Rachel refused to call it a date—with the blonde, she had gone with her behind Finn's back to a parking lot that overlooked Lima, the town already filled with Christmas lights and ornaments.
How hypocritical of her.
But she had kissed her!
How dare she bring her a picnic basket filled with her all of her vegan favorites, letting her feel that she was cared for. How dare she look at her, letting her feel like she was the only person that mattered in the world. How dare she hold her, letting her feel like she was the most fragile thing on earth. How dare she lean in, letting her feel like she was respected and worshipped.
If it hadn't been for the fact that she had been so vulnerable and the fact that Quinn hadn't been as bipolar as before and instead so fresh, deep, mysterious, and intelligent, she would have seen it coming.
Rachel groaned, fisting her pillow and putting it over her face. The kiss had lasted for a few moments before she pulled away. She could remember Quinn's face had fallen at that—she could tell even in the dark—but didn't say anything when she put the car in reverse, telling her that their outing—she still refused to call it a date even after that—was over.
All these feelings right now.
And Quinn's blunt words when she had parked in front of Rachel's home.
She didn't need this, being that she was already emotionally spent to begin with and she had Finn, she had to remind herself of that.
With him in mind, she felt guilty. She didn't want to say anything to him. No, that would lead to fighting and she didn't want to fight anymore. She was nothing if not honest, but this would have to be kept as a secret. Besides, she wasn't the one who initiated the kiss. She wasn't the one who instilled the words deep in her mind. So it wasn't her fault. This was nothing.
Nothing at all.
Dork Quinn slapped her in the back of her head, a few stray tears falling down her cheek. "Why did you make Rachel cry, you idiot?" she asked, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her Pac-Man shirt.
They had been asleep through the whole day but were now wide awake when Serial Killer Quinn had arrived at three in the morning, messing up their body clocks entirely. Dork Quinn didn't care though. Serial Killer Quinn made Rachel cry. That for her was the most important matter at the moment.
"Lion Quinn does not approve!" Lion Quinn was beyond mad. How could she do that to Rachel? It was unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable. "I must go find Jewfasa!"
With all the yelling Lion Quinn did, Zombie Apocalypse Quinn was relieved that Judy was never around that much.
Lion Quinn couldn't even make it three feet away from her rock though, before the leash Dork Quinn had bought whiplashed her. She bit into the durable material. No one and nothing including this leash could tame her. Except maybe Jewfasa.
"I had to." Serial Killer Quinn decided to let it go as she sat down on the lone metal chair situated at her corner, keeping her head bowed.
Dork Quinn cried even harder, running into Zombie Apocalypse Quinn's arms.
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn raised an eyebrow and patted her once on the head. "Stop crying."
"I just—" Dork Quinn hiccupped. "—have a lot of feelings, okay?"
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn evaluated Serial Killer Quinn's expression. There really was more to her than killing. This was Quinn's most unstable, morally questionable personality after all.
"So anything happened before you made her cry?"
"I can't tell you."
"Look, I think we need to reevaluate this whole situation," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said, pushing away Dork Quinn, who sobbed even more when she cocooned between the comforter of the bed. "We clearly won't go anywhere if we keep things to ourselves. I don't mean we have to share everything, just the important details to make us move forward. And about Rachel being hurt? Yeah, we all have the right to know about that. We all care about her."
"You say that like we never did that before."
"I know," Zombie Apocalypse Quinn said after she had lit her cigarette. "That's why screwing this up is the last thing we need to do."
"Don't tell me about screwing up." Serial Killer Quinn's expression turned hostile. "And I will never screw Rachel up. She's perfect. She's my perfect thing."
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn frowned, shifting her weight to her other foot. "She's my perfect thing, too. That's why you need to tell us."
Serial Killer Quinn's lips were in a grim line as she tapped the dagger's tip on her chin. The pink-haired girl had a valid argument. She didn't want to screw this up and after the rejection she had experienced with Rachel, she didn't want the other three to succeed. Although at the end of the day, she had to realize, they would share.
"I might have told her a few things that hit a little too close at home, even if she was denying it."
"Like what?" Zombie Apocalypse Quinn asked, smoke coming out from her lips.
"I might have come on a little too strong about Finn."
"Stop speaking in tongues."
"Look, I just said that she had pity sex with Finn!" Serial Killer Quinn's eyes had a murderous gleam. "I know she told us she did it with him, but after she told me everything, I just had to comment on that."
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn's eyes widened. "What do you mean she told you everything?"
Lion Quinn dropped the leash from her mouth, now listening to the conversation. Even Dork Quinn had to stop bawling and had her head peeking out of the sheets.
"All I got to tell you is that Rachel went there and that big ass of a T-Rex just made Rachel's first time all about him."
Zombie Apocalypse Quinn scoffed. She fisted her still lit cigarette, not minding the searing pain it caused. "Why the fuck am I not surprised?"
Dork Quinn cried even harder. Even Lion Quinn had to sit on the floor, her shoulders sagged.
"I know." Serial Killer Quinn bit her lip to stop herself from grabbing a chainsaw and hunt down Finn.
She didn't need to go any further.
They also knew.
"God, my head," Dork Quinn said as she sat up, seeing stars. She might have the worst hangover in the world without even touching a wine cooler.
"You're up early." Zombie Apocalypse Quinn threw the roll of tobacco out of the open window where she was perched up on its sill, her left leg dangling outside of the room.
Dork Quinn scratched her head as she looked at the time with bloodshot puffy eyes. It was four in the morning. "Didn't get any sleep? Aren't you ever tired?"
"I'm used to it." She leaned her head on the side jamb. "What I'm not used to is not seeing zombies limping their way to home base, though."
Dork Quinn nodded and got out of bed without making a sound, as to not disturb Serial Killer Quinn and went to Zombie Apocalypse Quinn's side. It was weird. Weird that she had been able to lay beside a person that could possibly kill you in your sleep. Weird that she didn't even bother to put a pillow between their bodies anymore—not that it helped, but there was a sense of security behind it—and had been able to go to sleep after crying so hard.
Maybe it was because she was a part of her. Or maybe it was because of last night after she had smacked Serial Killer Quinn's sense out of her, she was unafraid of Serial Killer Quinn. Or maybe because of Rachel. No, not maybe, definitely.
It was definitely because of Rachel. Dork Quinn had a roller coaster of feelings for her.
Dork Quinn could make out Zombie Apocalypse Quinn's profile. She would leave the skill of gauging people to Serial Killer Quinn since she was bad at it, but judging by the soft eyes and the ever subtle quirk of a smile, she knew Zombie Apocalypse Quinn, the ever badass motherfucker, had the look that made Dork Quinn conclude that she was thinking about Rachel, too.
Okay, okay, she had to admit that it didn't take a serious reading like her crazy counterpart did to know what Zombie Apocalypse Quinn was thinking because she also had that kind of look, too, whenever she thought about Rachel—the kind of look that was smitten and love struck.
While their minds drifted to Rachel as they shared another moment of silence, they also listened to the birds chirping in the background with the cool breeze of dawn relaxed them. And when Zombie Apocalypse Quinn finished lighting up another cigarette, Dork Quinn didn't even flinch at the sight and smell of it anymore.
"…After what she said, it makes me fight for Rachel even more."
"Sometimes that's all we really have to do. Fight, I mean," she said after a beat. "It's not like we're perfect, but at least she needs to see that we're so much better than him. We just need to show her that."
Serial Killer Quinn was already awake, and she had been ever since her head hit the pillow after they had called it a night once they had nothing to do but either sulk on a rock and think about Rachel, cry and think about Rachel until slumber hit, smoke until one couldn't stand anymore and think about Rachel, or lay there and think about Rachel and how much of a lunatic one had been for lashing out at the person cherished and loved the most in this unfair world.
With the hushed conversation her other two selves were having, she couldn't help but think about how she made a fatal mistake on her part. Not only had she offended Rachel, she also had tried to make advances towards her, when in retrospect, she should have been slow. And that wasn't her forte at all. She was all meant to take someone in a vulnerable state and take advantage from there.
It hurt, and that feeling was not something to be taken as joke if it was Serial Killer Quinn. People like her weren't supposed to feel but she had, she did with Rachel and Rachel alone. And as maudlin as it sounded, Rachel was the one that grounded her from killing everyone in sight. Except for the people who were interested in Rachel, but still.
Rachel may have praised Finn and sugarcoated everything, but she knew Rachel. And once she had seen those expressive eyes becoming more and more like hers when they had talked about Finn, her brain-to-mouth filter had just shut down.
A flightless bird—lost, alone, and straying away from the wagon of normalcy and empathy, the one thing that saved her, the one person that saved her was Rachel.
That was why she needed to save her too.
It was their year to get it right, after all.
"Hey."
"What are you doing here, Quinn?"
"Last time I checked, this is a public girls' restroom or did I not get the memo?"
Rachel didn't react at the sarcastic remark, and instead, gathered her things and went right past her.
Serial Killer Quinn sighed and followed her out of the restroom and to the secluded hallway.
"Go away, Quinn."
"Not until we talk about that night. I can't take it anymore with you avoiding and ignoring me for the past three days."
"I've got nothing to say to you."
"That's funny. You usually have a lot to say."
No response.
"Alright, bad joke. I'm sorry."
Rachel turned on her heel and Serial Killer Quinn stopped on her tracks, almost colliding with her.
"Sorry? That's all you're going to have to say to me? I may be a very forgiving person, Quinn, but I'm not sorry to say that it takes more than an apology to forgive you. You absolutely had no right to say the things you said and do what you did. I have a boyfriend, Quinn. A boyfriend who loves me an-and takes care of me. I cannot let you ruin our relationship again."
"That's not going to scare me away," Serial Killer Quinn said. She grasped the right index finger that was poking her in the chest, before sneaking the back of her hand to Rachel's palm and interlocking both of their hands. "And I know sorry's not going to cut it anymore. Let me make it up to you."
Rachel shook her head. "I'm not going to let you leave me in a rather vulnerable state and talk about my feelings once again, Quinn."
"Please? I promise I won't do it again. I'll take you on an honest-to-goodness date this time."
"I have boyfriend, Quinn," Rachel said. "And that was not a date."
"I didn't hear a 'no' in that sentence."
"Then no," Rachel said as she pulled her hand away.
Serial Killer Quinn nodded. "…Okay. I'll see you in class."
Rachel was more confused than ever.
Did she just wave a white flag?
Did that mean that this was all over?
Why did she feel so sad all of a sudden?
Maybe Rachel had concluded things much too soon because here she was, gaping at her sitting on the porch steps.
In the autumn cold.
At nine o'clock in the evening.
With no jacket or coat.
Armed with a bouquet of purple hyacinths.
"How long have you been sitting there? Have you been waiting for me?" Rachel asked, approaching her.
Serial Killer Quinn smiled and Rachel realized that this was the first time she had seen a genuine one.
"Not long enough and yes." Serial Killer Quinn stood and chuckled, her breath coming out in puffs. She held out the flowers. "We Fabrays don't give up easily."
"Oh my God," Rachel breathed out after she had put down her grocery bags and had felt Serial Killer Quinn's hand when she had accepted it. "You're cold as ice. We need to warm you up."
Serial Killer Quinn shook her head, the smile still in place. "I'm fine. Really."
"No, you are certainly not fine. Let me get you inside and that's that. You can't say anything otherwise," Rachel said.
She grabbed her elbow with her free hand and dragged her inside, forgetting about the bags on the steps and about the fact that she was still mad at her.
"It's dangerous grocery shopping at night, you know," Serial Killer Quinn said after she had yawned. Her head on the armrest of the Berry living room couch. "And is this all necessary?"
"Dad and Daddy are out on a trip, so I have to take care of myself for a couple of nights," Rachel said, grabbing the stool and situating it just in front of the sink. "And nonsense. Those are all essential in getting you back to perfect health."
Serial Killer Quinn couldn't help but smile underneath the hot towel over her forehead when she saw the sight of Rachel Berry in the kitchen doing a routine of stepping up on the stool to stocking their shelves and stepping down once again to grab another good.
"…I apologized to Finn. The whole class, too," she said. "Also the boys, even if they weren't there. I also went by to look for Jesse. I called Sam, too. They were confused, but I didn't explain and just said sorry."
It was against her principles—if she ever had one—but if this was to win Rachel, then so be it. She would get her chance on really killing them someday, anyway. With Rachel's consent.
Maybe. She didn't want to be a liar.
Oh wait, she was. But still, she never wanted to lie to Rachel, so yes, she would ask.
What if she'd say no, though? She would have to get back to that someday too.
Rachel paused and smiled despite herself, holding the Cheerios cereal box midair with her back still turned towards Serial Killer Quinn as she said, "I see. Thank you, Quinn." And with that, she carried on restocking.
Serial Killer Quinn smiled wider as she got up, removing the compresses and the electric blanket from her body.
"So, uhm." Rachel cleared her throat. She put away the last carton of soymilk before hopping down. "Mr. Schuester said that we need to write another original and I figured that since we both composed the Berry/Fabray song that won us Regionals, maybe we could—" Rachel jumped a bit when Serial Killer Quinn's arms encircled around her waist.
"It's Fabray/Berry, but go on," Serial Killer Quinn said, leaning her forehead on Rachel's left temple. Rachel could hear the mischief in her husky voice.
"…Quinn, you're supposed to be in the couch. And can you please move away?"
Serial Killer Quinn shook her head. "My symptoms are shivering, exhaustion, and fatigue, and it's nowhere near a severe case of hypothermia. All I need is body heat, really."
"Quinn." Rachel could feel herself heating up. "You promised me."
"I didn't promise not to hold you," she whispered, just audible enough for her to hear. "Your heart rate's picking up. That means you're either scared or you like it. I'm pretty sure it's the second option."
"Why do you know all these things?" Rachel asked.
"My… job requires me to." Serial Killer Quinn closed her eyes, basking in the warmth and smell of Rachel. Strawberries and sunshine. Just as what she imagined it to be.
They stood like that for a while, with her against Rachel's back. The latter not protesting, deep in her own conflicting thoughts.
Rachel was decisive in a lot of things. She had a planner that had details upon details of how her life should be lived to prove that point, but it was safe to say that she was now in a deeper turmoil than the past few days. It was all so complex, even for her.
Was this considered cheating? Probably.
Why hadn't she pushed her away yet, when she said herself that she didn't want this? She didn't know.
What she knew though, was that this Quinn made her spill things that were either trivial or meant to be kept. She had this power over Rachel and now….
"Rachel. Be with me."
"I'm still mad at you. And no."
"You don't sound mad anymore. And why not?"
"You already know why." Rachel's breath hitched when she felt Serial Killer Quinn's grip grew tighter around her.
"Is this bad timing for a sleepover or…?"
Rachel's eyes widened and pulled away from the embrace, turning around to see Kurt Hummel with his pillow and duffel bag.
"Kurt!"
Serial Killer Quinn wasn't as panic-stricken as she turned around. Cool and collected, she kissed Rachel on the cheek, who barely registered the contact, and nodded in acknowledgment to Kurt, before passing by both of them and out of the open front door.
When Serial Killer Quinn closed it with a soft click and was a good distance away, Kurt's jaw unhinged before he went back to stare at Rachel. "Rachel Barbra Berry, is there something you want to tell me?"
"Ho-how long have you been standing there?"
"Oh my God, Quinn likes you!" Kurt didn't even bother answering the question as he paced and grinned like a madman in the kitchen. "Quinn Fabray likes Rachel Berry. Oh my God. Are those purple hyacinths? That's so romantic. This is, this is—finally!"
"Kurt, please don't tell Finn—wait, what? What do you mean finally?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "My dear Rachel, you are so obtuse. Quinn's liked you ever since you two met. She's too obvious."
"…What?" Rachel looked at him like he had grown two heads. "More importantly, why are you so happy about this?"
Kurt waved a hand. "Oh, please. Rachel, as far as I'm concerned with your love life, I personally think that you and Finn aren't right for each other."
Rachel gaped for the second time of the night. "That's your stepbrother, Kurt."
"Oh, don't get me wrong. Finn's a great guy, but considering that Finn would probably have to open a dictionary every time you go into your soliloquies and lectures, well…." Kurt trailed off as he faced Rachel, before continuing on with a, "I must confess that I have been rooting for Quinn with you for quite some time now. I even made up a portmanteau combining your two last names, which is, by the way, Faberry…."
Rachel sat on the stool, trying to catch up with Kurt's excited words. Confusing.
Absolutely confusing.
Serial Killer Quinn smiled. She left her mark, ending it on a good note, if she did say so herself.
She grinned, not minding the cold at all. She could still feel Rachel's body flushed against hers.
Soon, Rachel will be hers. Will be theirs.
Soon.