It's a week before the first outbreak is seen in Tokyo when I'm sitting in Ms Pillsbury's office making mini sculptures out of her magnetic paperclip thing. She's running late which is pretty typical for her. I imagine it probably has something to do with her inability to use the staff toilets without performing a half hour cleansing of the toilet seat. The woman's got issues and I wonder for not the first time how it's appropriate for someone with such a severe disorder to be counseling anyone.

Finally Ms P comes through the door with a wide smile, huge eyes glistening brightly. She tugs a pair of latex gloves off her fingers and disposes them—the gloves, not her fingers—in a bin hidden behind her desk. She goes through her usual ritual of straightening her already straight pamphlets and swiping a disinfectant wipe along the shining surface of her already spotless desk. Once the wipes are fastidiously disposed of Ms P sits straight up in her chair. Clasping her hands together on the desk she stairs at me with her giant Bambi eyes.

I wait patiently for her to start our session. The longer it takes for her to start, the later I can get away with getting to Math. Mr Saverson has been up my butt about my tardiness since my first week of Senior year when I had arrived late for the first lesson. His dislike of me may also have been aggravated by the fact that I had pink hair, a nose ring and had called him a fascist dictator.

I had some issues to work through okay?

That's a part of why I'm in Ms P's office at all. My issues have been getting me into trouble and she is meant to be talking me through them. There is of course every chance that I should be seeing a professional therapist rather than an under qualified and underpaid school counsellor but whatever.

Ms P finally breaks the silence, "So Quinn, how has your week been? Have you punched anyone or performed any acts of vandalism."

I feel one eyebrow climb it's way up my forehead of it's own accord. Sadly, this isn't the first time she's opened up our little sessions with this question. She's pretty much asked some variation of it every week for the past 5 weeks. Ever since I punched Finn in the face and then smashed in his windshield with a baseball bat(retrieved from the sports supplies room). I didn't manage to break his nose unfortunately but his windshield had taken some time getting replaced. The bonus being that Finn had to catch the bus to school. I would have thought that Kurt would give Finn a ride to school but apparently Finn had managed to make an ass of himself with Kurt as well. Probably some atrociously homophobic comment made in the midst of one of his self righteous speeches.

I smirk as I answer her question, "No Ms Pillsbury, I haven't performed any acts of violence this week."

"Well that's excellent Quinn. Have you had any more thoughts on why you felt the need to violate Finn Hudson's person and property?"

Again this is a question I have been asked several times and by several different people. I give the same response I always do, "I was having a bad day."

Ms P nods as though she had expected this answer. She should expect it since I have no intention of sharing any other. The truth is: it wasn't just a bad day that had me swinging that bat into Finn's car. A bad day usually has me buying chocolate or McDonalds on the way home. A really bad day might have me crying into my pillows. A really, really bad day might have found me picking a fight with Santana so I would have an excuse for a physical confrontation with someone. The day that I nearly broke Finn's smug face had been fine. Great even. I had sent away all the forms that would guarantee my scholarships for the entire first year's tuition at Yale. I had received an A- on an exam that I hadn't studied for and on top of that my mum had called me during lunch to tell me her first big contract as a real estate agent had gone through.

The good or bad qualities of my day had nothing to do with it. The reason I had marched up to Finn with anger thrumming through my body and clocked him good had nothing to do with me at all. The reason I had felt such a burning desire to punch a man-child double my body weight came in the form of a person. More specifically a girl. A girl named Rachel Berry. Now I know what you're thinking: Quinn, you don't even like that girl, why would you punch a person because of her?

The answer is simple. I was completely in love with Rachel. I'm sure you're thinking that I have somehow lost my mind. That I have somehow forgotten all the reasons that I tortured the girl mercilessly for three years. As it is, the reason that I tortured her above every other person in the school is because I loved her so damn much. I'm a despicable cliche and I truly want to kick my own ass. Every part of me including the good-christian-girl parts plus the popular-cheerleader parts has warred against the feelings that had me mooning over a midget in argyle.

Now the more observant of you may have noticed my use of past tense here. It is true, after 3 years, 8 months and I'm not sure how many days I am finally getting over my unwarranted and unrequited love for Rachel Berry. After my little incident with Finn, I had been forced to face facts and accept the straight elephant in the room. Even after my stupidly valiant attempts to defend Rachel's honor she had continued to ignore and otherwise rebuke my every attempt at flirtation. She had even gone so far as to befriend Brittany to avoid any time we might have been alone.

Sigh.

Back in Ms P's office I am forced from my thoughts when the bright eyed woman clears her throat and gives me a pointed look. I'm meant to give her my anger management worksheet. I grab the bright Pink pamphlet out of my bag and slide it across the desk. The title of the pamphlet containing the worksheet matches the rest that are in her office.

'So You Have Some Anger And Self Control Issues.'

I'd filled out the questions during Math yesterday instead of completing the class exercises. All of my answers for the pamphlet were lies and designed to illustrate a 'sane' Quinn Fabray. I know I have issues but I also know that discussing those issues with the woman in front of me will not help any of them. Ms P takes the pamphlet and scans over my answers. Her brow furrows as though she knows my answers are all fabrications.

She sighs and files it away in what must be a rather fat manilla folder with my name on it, "Well Quinn, why don't we talk about what you've been up to this week and what your goals are for next week."

I lean back in my chair and prepare my default responses which I know will keep me from math that little bit longer.

– –

Three days later, I am on my way to my car after Glee club and I notice Santana and Rachel walking with purpose towards the gym. They are bickering angrily as always, pointing and gesturing between themselves and their destination. My interest is piqued and I move to follow them. They have been fighting more and more lately and despite my waning affection for Rachel, I still feel that need to know what she is doing at all hours of the day.

I squat behind the nearest car when they stop their arguing long enough to turn around and scan their surroundings. I glance around from my position as well and see no one nearby.

I hear Rachel's voice a little more clearly because I am only, maybe 30 feet from them, "Santana, I got the call on this mission first which means that I am in charge and you have to do what I say."

Santana huffs audibly, "Fine, but if we get killed it is so not my fault."

I hear the doors to the gym open and then close. I sprint towards the double doors as quickly as I can and press my ear against the crack between them. The sound from inside is muffled well. I wonder if the gym hasn't been sound proofed by Coach Sylvester in some insane attempt to keep competing teams from spying on the Cheerios. I strain me ears and pick up what sounds something like one of Puck's video games. There's growling and screaming and something like laser-gun fire.

I rest my hand against the long metal bar that serves as a handle in the door debating whether or not I just burst into the room to see what's going on. When a loud scream is followed by the sound of a gunshot I forget all hesitation and open the doors.

What I find on the other side is not what I was expecting. Actually, I have no idea what I was expecting. What I had heard suggested some kind of science fiction, monster movie. What I find is Rachel and Santana locked in an embrace. They're hugging and laughing as though they had just won a Show Choir championship—or in Santana's case, cheerleading Nationals.

When I see that they and the gym floor surrounding them is covered in a gloopy, transparent sludge I can't stop the words, "What the hell?" leaping from my mouth.

They snap apart as though caught in a compromising position, both hiding something behind their backs. I catch a glimpse of a solid looking object in Rachel's hands. I have no idea what it is but it has a handle attached to what could be the barrel of a gun except that it has blinking lights and containes some kind of glowing, golden fluid. The gun looking object also seams to be releasing jets of steam at random intervals. With Rachel's hands behind her back there continues to be small jets of steam escaping from behind her dissipating above her head.

Santana is the first to react to Quinn's question, "Ah, Quinn what are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What are you two doing here? And why are you covered in slime?" I counter, gesturing to the both of them in their slimed state.

Santana looks at Rachel who continues to direct her wide eyed stare at me.

Finally Santana returns her gaze back to me, "Um, we're just trying out some new special effects for Glee."

I scoff at this, "Since when would you be doing something like that Santana? That's what AV nerds are for isn't it?"

Santana looks momentarily stumped and Rachel steps forward, "Yes Quinn, ordinarily you would be quite correct in your assertions but I wanted to try something experimental and—"

I hold up my hand to interrupt her, "You know what, never mind." I know that she is lying. I spent enough time covertly watching her to know how her body language changes when she lies.

Rachel looks a little hurt at the interruption and I ignore the impulse to soothe her worry and hurt. I glare at them both with a look which clearly states I'm watching you and quickly exit the gym. Whatever they're up to, I'll get to the bottom of it even if I have to follow Rachel...or Santana all week.

– –

Nothing interesting happens again until a full four days later when Ms Pillsbury rushes into the choir room half way through Glee club practice and interrupts Mr Schuesters latest weekly lesson on...whatever.

Ms P looks pretty panicked and we hear a few words as she whispers into Mr Schue's ear. We all hear the words 'international crisis', 'infected' and 'Tokyo'. When Mr Schue follows Ms P out of the choir room we all pull out our phones and direct to the browser. Mike is the first to find the international news on .

"An estimated ten thousand people are dead as an infection spreads throughout the city of Tokyo," he reads, glancing up from his phone with a shocked expression undoubtedly reflected in all of us. "On-the-ground sources suggest that the infection is something completely unheard of with the infected persons apparently 'dying' before standing up and attempting to bite or eat those closest to them. Those bitten then suffer the same symptoms, apparently dying and then waking up to infect those closest to them."

Puck interrupts, "No fucking way Chang! That's not unheard of. That's freakin zombies. 'Apparently dead' people getting up and trying to bite the people nearest to them? Definitely freakin zombies."

Sam nods his agreement, "Yeah, c'mon guys you have to admit it does sound a little zombie apocalypse-y"

Rachel interrupts him and my attention is instantly diverted to her, "Don't be ridiculous Puck. And Sam, there is no need to be inciting any unwarranted panic with talk of zombies or any other such nonsense. Okay?"

Sam looks suitable chastised and sinks back into his seat. I'm forced to wonder when he started taking direction from Rachel. Last I checked(which was pretty recently) they barely spoke to one another.

Puck is less quick to let his theory go, "The zombie apocalypse is here guys and I don't know about you but I am freakin excited."

Half the club roll their eyes as you would expect but I can't help but notice a few exceptions. Sam and Mike sit up straight in their chairs, eying Rachel discreetly. Tina and Brittany inexplicably bump fists including that mini hand explosion thing Puck tried to teach me to do. Santana and Rachel exchange a tense glance from across the room. My interest is instantly drawn to the two the two of them. They seem to be sharing a silent communication and I'm at a loss when they both nod and return their gazes to the front of the room. Rachel folds her arms tightly across her chest and Santana picks up Brittany's hand to absently play with her fingers.

I'm glad Santana and Brittany seem to be back to their old selves. I was very worried about what would happen when they broke up. They both, of course came to me crying through their various explanations. I never did manage to figure out what happened to their relationship but I had done my best to keep them from drowning in their sorrows.

For Brittany my contribution to her recovery was mass amounts of sugar while watching the entire Harry Potter movie franchise in two days with her. Two days was all she got though and it had surprised me when Rachel was the one to collect her from my house. Brittany didn't cry very much and she didn't talk about what happened but she held me tightly to her chest before she left with one arm wrapped around Rachel's. The shorter girl wrapped her arm around Brittany's waist as she guided her to her car. I'd watched them go and tried not to wonder if Rachel would be there for me in the same way she was for Brittany.

Santana got the following three days of my life to drench my shoulder in tears. We consumed copious amounts of alcohol while watching endless reruns of Will & Grace, Friends and Frasier. Some of the time was spent in companionable silence, Santana's arms wrapped around me but most of our time was spent with me listening to Santana cry. She sobbed and blubbered for hours at a time about how wonderful and beautiful Brittany is and how much she wished they had what it took to stay together. It made my heart ache to listen to her cry like that. I wanted to know what had happened between them but Santana would just shake her head any time I tried to ask.

Seeing the two sitting together in Glee, their hands intwined made me smile. I wondered if they were still sleeping together, just minus all the relationship stuff. I hoped not. They both needed their best friend back and more than anything, they needed a healthy relationship. They both had become so destructive with all their jealousies and relationship drama that they needed to pause and reassess what they meant to one another without the complication of sex.

My eyes find Rachel again as they usually do and I see her frowning deeply. When Finn wraps an arm across her shoulders she shakes him off. I smile at the action before reminding myself that I'm over Rachel Berry and that I don't care if she is getting along with her once-fiancé. They were no longer engaged since Rachel had delayed the wedding to the point of canceling it.

While I had, of course been elated at the canceling of their engagement, I had been less pleased at the announcement that they would still be boyfriend/girlfriend. I wondered why they didn't just breakup all together but I also knew that I was exceedingly biased. This bias is what had caused me to swing a full sized baseball bat at Finn's car.

Finn had been yelling at Rachel, explaining how she was all kinds of selfish for wanting to follow her dreams to New York even though Finn had no idea if he wanted to leave Lima. For not the first time, I wondered what anyone saw in the big oaf. His words, while awful weren't enough to make me snap though. It was when he took that extra step into Rachel's personal space and grabbed her arms hard enough to bruise that I'd had enough. I leaped out of my seat and called his name loud enough that he would turn around to face me. I pulled up every ounce of strength left to me from Cheerio's so that I could jump high enough to clobber my fist into his nose.

The sickening crunch was unfortunately not the sound of his nose breaking so much as the bones shifting in my fist but it was completely worth the minor dislocation of my second and third phalanx bones to see Finn's face crumple in pain. The two black eyes he was sporting days after were another fringe benefit.

The words that followed caused me to progress to a baseball bat and the destruction of Finn's windscreen, "What the hell is wrong with you Quinn? No wonder you can't get a boyfriend when you go around hitting guys for no reason!"

What, can I say? We've all known that Finn was far from the sharpest tool in the shed. I should probably have taken his words as another Finn-ism he would eventually apologise for. I should probably have come back with some retort about his puffy pyramid nipples. I could have kneed in him in the balls. None of these things seemed enough though when I saw the tears that were welling up in Rachel's eye's as she shifted back to her seat, rubbing at her upper arms.

On that day, as Rachel rubbed at the red marks caused by Finn's careless hands I shot him my iciest glare and walked out of the choir room, towards the sports department. Santana tried to follow me but I shook her off and forced her to stay and to sure that Rachel was okay.

On this day, as Rachel puts distance between herself and Finn I am glad that I reacted the way I that did. She told me just a few weeks ago that my reaction to the way Finn was treating her had made her think twice about their relationship. That conversation had taken place—unsurprisingly—in a deserted bathroom. I don't know what it is about the bathrooms at McKinley but they seem to have the right resonances for life altering conversations between myself and Rachel Berry.

I check the time on my phone to see that we only have another 5 minutes left of Glee. I have important plans for this afternoon and it's time to make them happen. I decided after the incident in the gym that I would need to follow Rachel and Santana after the next glee practice. I didn't know if they would leave together like they did after the last late afternoon practice but I figured it was a possibility.

I slip quietly from the room as everyone else is pulling their things together. Sprinting down the hallway I position myself so that I can see the doorway to the choir room. Mercedes and Kurt then Rory and Finn are the first ones to leave and wander down the hallway. I wait for the others to appear in twos and threes so I can shadow Santana and Rachel, following them to wherever it is they go after these Glee practices.

I'm getting impatient by the time anyone else appears. Before I can cave to the urge to creep back towards the door Mike and Sam appear in the hallway, talking animatedly and making broad motions with their hands. Sugar, Puck and Blain are the next to leave followed closely by Brittany and Tina. The two girls are talking animatedly making small motions with their hands as though demonstrating the assembly of small building blocks. I have no idea what the two could have to talk about other than dancing. They seem to have absolutely nothing in common and I am quite convinced that I have never really seen them engaged in any conversation between just the two of them.

I'm interrupted in my contemplation of this particular puzzle when Rachel and Santana finally leave the choir room and move down the hallway, away from where I am hiding in the shadows. I follow them hurriedly, glad that I'd chosen to wear flat boots today rather than my cork wedges. I'm able to sneak after them without making any noticeable sound and I'm following far enough away that even if they turn around, they shouldn't notice me. I'm also glad of Coach Sylvester's insane military training as I muffle my steps carefully against the linoleum of the hallway.

My quarry moves through the carpark and I worry for a moment what I will do if they get into a car together. My training never included any vehicle assisted tailing and I know that I will be found out pretty quickly if they do. Luckily they move beyond the boundary of the carpark and into the square stretch of grass which is the William McKinley Park. The kilometer stretch of grass represents the best piece of greenery in Lima outside of the football field and it includes quite a few large tree. These trees provide my best shelter as I follow Rachel and Santana from about 50 feet behind them.

The two continue to cast covert glances behind them but I remain in the shadows. They leave the park at the other end of it and cut across the street through a deserted house block. I follow them for another three block before they finally stop in front of a big old house I actually drive past on my way to school. There is a big brick fence that runs around the perimeter of the property and I rush forward, worried that I'll miss where they go next. If they enter the property at an entrance which isn't immediately obvious I could lose them.

I creep forward behind a few cars parked on the same side of the street as the house. I can see Santana and Rachel arguing quietly right up until Santana reaches out with one hand and taps on something I can't see in the fence. Their faces are lit up slightly and a computerized voice demands, "Password."

Santana leans towards the light source and says clearly and succinctly, "Hummingbird."

She then taps a six digit code into what must be a control panel just out of my eye line. My cheerios military training kicks in again as I listen to the small beeps which indicate which numbers are being pressed. Zero, six, two, zero, one, zero. A door opens immediately and Rachel steps through the gap. Santana casts one more glance around before entering and allowing the door to slam shut behind her.

I dash forward immediately to see a large steel door settling against its frame. Beside the door, at eye level is a control panel with a speaker and an array of buttons like on a telephone. As I wonder how to activate the password procedure a small blue light turns on and a quiet electronic voice prompts, "Password,".

I force back the stammer which threatens to escape my lips as I say clearly, "Hummingbird."

There is no response from the machine so I quickly punch in the code I had heard Santana entering, hoping that it is for anyone who would enter and not Santana specifically. I breath a sigh of relief as the door opens and I can cross through it and onto the other side of the fence.

What I find on the other side surprises me. Rather than an enclosed front yard as you would expect from looking at the house from the street I find myself at the top of a broad staircase leading down into a large, darkened space. There was little light available and my eyes were having trouble adjusting to the dimness of the space which felt massive. I couldn't see much but there was that smell and feel to the air which suggested an open space like you would find in a gym or a theatre. My footsteps were frighteningly loud even as I tried my best to muffle them. I crouched down with the fingertips of one hand resting against the cool floor to help maintain my balance, my other arm resting across my raised knee.

Before I can fully adjust to the dark and determine my next move I hear a buzzing noise and fluorescent lights heat up and flicker on overhead. I stand up straight and shield my eyes from the sudden glare. I can hear several people moving about below me and the blurry shapes quickly coalesce into people I know.

Rachel and Santana stand at the front of a group which includes Brittany, Tina, Sam, Mike Puck, Blaine and Sugar as well as, inexplicably Jessie StJames.

The group looks up at me as a new person enters and a voice I've come to know well finally breaks the silence, "Nice of you to join us Quinn."

I'm completely at a loss as I turn to see Shelby Corcoran enter the room wearing an authoritative looking lab coat and a smirk. I know that my jaw is hanging open but I can't seem to bring myself to close it as I look around at my friends. And Jessie. His presence is hardest to rationalise and really guides me to thinking that I must have hit my head at some point and am only dreaming this. I pinch my leg subtly to make sure that I can feel it. I pinch hard enough to bruise and I wince a little at the pain I cause myself. I stare at them across the vast space as they stare back at me.

It's extremely unsettling and I flick my gaze around the room quickly to assess my options. My back is still to the door by which I entered and I know that the wall stretches out for about thirty feet on either side. I'm standing at the top of a flight of approximately ten stairs which drops down about a half story to a wide open space that vaguely resembles the lobby of a corporate building in a large city. There are fake plants in the corners and a large water feature off to one side. There are also large, expensive looking couches lined up through the centre of the room. Everything in the room looks expensive with each surface rendered to a high polish. The wall opposite me is probably fifty feet away and my friends plus Jessie and Shelby are a few feet in front of the set of double glass doors that had closed after Shelby had entered.

I shake myself out of the shocked stupor and try to think of something intelligent to say. The best I can come up with is, "What is this place?"

Shelby smiles knowingly, "This is the foyer of ARH," she says simply. "Santana and Rachel will show you around," and with that she turns around and leaves me standing with my mouth open and a billion questions racing through my mind.

The glass doors open again and Shelby disappears into the darkness beyond them. Britt smiles and waves warmly at me as Tina punches in a complicated code on a panel beside a normal looking door to the left of the glass double doors. Puck, Sam, Mike, Blain and Sugar are the next to exit through a door to the right. Blain is the one to punch in the keycode.

Finally, it's just me, Jesse, Santana and Rachel. All three are smiling at me, Rachel warmly, Santana calculatedly and Jesse with some amusement. Jesse strides forward until he is standing at the bottom of stairs I have taken residence on. I take a careful step down and am surprised to find that my legs are actually quite steady as is my breathing and heart rate.

I ignore the way that Jesse's hand extends to 'help' me down the stairs and stride towards Santana and Rachel as they stand casually together, "Is anyone planning on letting me know what the hell is going on here?" I demand of them both.

Jesse clears his throat behind me but Santana throws him a cold glare, "Don't you have somewhere to be StJames?"

Jesse's expression darkens but he doesn't say anything as he exits through the door on the right, entering the code in with familiarity. I mentally catalogue the numbered key code along with the others incase I need any of them later.

Santana smiles as she glances between me and the door Jesse just entered, "Simmer down, Fabray we aren't gonna hold you captive. You don't have to memorize keycodes to get out of here."

I feel my body tense and then relax as I see the sincerity hidden beneath Santana's snark. Despite appearances, I actually had come to trust Santana. I know that she has my back and she knows that I'll have hers if a time came she needed me.

I see Rachel glance between me and the door I'd been memorizing the code for, "That's pretty impressive. You know the code just by hearing the tones?" I nod and she turns to Santana, "I thought you were a freak for that one Santana but obviously you aren't alone in that particular talent." she steps closer to me and smiles widely, "Just as Shelby indicated, we would like to welcome you to the LDC. We will answer all of your questions shortly. If you would like to follow Santana, she will lead you through a tour of the complex."

My eyes widen at the last statement, "You aren't coming with us?" I ask her worriedly.

"No, I'm afraid I have to excuse myself as I'll have to run some assessment parameters on this new problem in Japan. If there is a chance that the infection could spread to the United States then we need to be prepared." She nods towards Santana, "Agent Lopez here will run through the exposition for you."

"Agent Lopez?" I ask incredulously.

Santana smirks, "She's joking, we have no official titles except those on our pay packets. I'll go over that with you later. For now you're gonna have to follow me so we can get your security clearance run through Britt's system. You don't have any metal implants or anything do you? Cause this could get a little awkward if you do."

I just stare at her as though she had lost her mind.

"I'll take that as a no Blondie, but just so you know, if you are packing metal replacement parts you had better let Brittany know before she runs the program. I haven't seen it personally but I've been told that there has been some pretty amazing holes left in people and their clothes while going through Brittany's screening process."

Rachel just shakes her head and rolls her eyes at Santana good naturedly, "Stop trying to scare her San, we want her on board remember."

Santana just shrugs and turns toward the door on the left as Rachel swipes something against a blinking module in the wall, opening the big glass doors. Santana keys in the code I remember as Rachel gives me a warm smile and leaves me to follow Santana.

We enter a bright hallway with light emanating from not only above us but also from the walls on either side. I wonder whether this is an aesthetic choice or if the additional ambient light serves a purpose. We walk past three doors before reaching the one we would go through.

Santana turns to me as the door clicks and she presses the door handle down, "Believe it Alice, the Rabbit Hole has nothing on us."

I take a deep breath as Santana opens the door to a whole new world.

AN:

This story is based on the speal in Lcrazemag's bio:

"My favorite characters are Quinn, Santana, Rachel, Mike, Sam, Jesse, and Shelby… A fic containing all of those would receive my utmost devotion to reviews and praise- if well written. An apocalypse fic containing all those would probably kill me, haha. I do love my zombie fics..

Quinntana is my OTP, and Fapezberry is my ot3. So by default, I usually give those fics a shot no matter what"

So thats where the idea for this story first came from although i may have diverted a little. Lol. Ongoing, think BTVS levels of violence with Zombieland style zombies which won't necesarilly be a focus. Like I said this is NOT a horror. Most likely the action/adventurey stuff will probably just lead to some sexy, post battle lady kisses(if my other stories are anything to go by). Especially if my readers demand it.

Im also gonna have a crack at explaining why Quinn was so completely nuts and Bipolar-appearing in Season 3.

Reviews are always, always appreciated