Hi, um this is my first Faberry fic. Or first fic overall for that matter, I've been meaning to post this for a while now so yeah, here it is. Leave me your thoughts if you love/like/hate it i'd love to know!

Glee no mine (or the characters for that matter). Fabbery would have been getting it on ages ago if it did.

A Place To Land

Rachel Berry frowned deeply at the bubbling grey goop in the large heated container below her. It oozed disgustingly and emitted the morbid scent of some poor dead animal, probably road kill, and something else (and she wasn't completely sure if that thing was edible or not). The workers here, and more specifically the cooks had called it food, but really the mere thought of putting the horrid substance anywhere near herself, nonetheless her mouth, made her sick to her stomach. Her throat burned from the constant baby vomit she had endured throughout the day and it was only 1:30. Her shift ended at 5:00. Pure. Torture.

With a cringing frown still very present on her lips, she readied herself for the next meal hours, in which dozens of people, all very different except for the peculiar smell of garbage, debris, and some very strong B.O (maybe they should be handing out deodorant in lieu of food), would come rushing through the doors of Lima Central's Homeless Refuge grabbing desperately at the bowls of gruel that Rachel so desperately wanted to hurl on.

It was heartbreaking to watch really. Since Rachel had started volunteering here, she'd seen so many people. People with stories to tell, people with scars and a unique twinkle of foreign emotions in their eyes, people who have lost all sense of hope; all sense of life.

It was actually quite a grounding experience, as her dads had initially told her (it wasn't all torture). Here she was fortunate, happy, in good health, having the luxury of being able to indulge in whatever she wanted and then there were the other people who came to the refuge: broken, sickly, with children on their hips crying desperately for something they could never obtain. It had truly opened her eyes to the world as a whole and how there was this whole other side to it that she was completely unaware of before.

"Rachel, are we all set over there?" Mrs. Hill shouted gleefully from the opposite side of the long, narrow serving station.

"Ready when you are." Rachel responded, a light smile falling into place as she looked over at the small, fragile woman. Ms. Hill was a sweetheart in all the sense of the word. If that lady's heart wasn't made of sugar, spice and everything nice then nothing was.

She was nearly 73 now, and just as strong, if not more than, Rachel's fathers. She always had a smile on her sun-withered face, and a gentle crinkle in her glassy blue eyes. Her hair was long and pure white, pulled back with an old pin with the letter D on it. She often touched it softly, almost caressing it, and Rachel could only guess that it was very important to her.

"Okay sweat pea, I'm opening up now." Mrs. Hill chanted happily. Meal times were always a joyful event for her, like she'd been waiting for the moment the entire day. She laughed softly as she pushed the doors open, revealing several people, people without homes, without jobs, already waiting anxiously, fleeting smiles on their faces.

The people rushed into the large refuge cafetorium, eagerly grabbing a red plastic tray and offering it up to Rachel as if giving her a gift that she accepted graciously. During meal times, Rachel always tried to smile as brightly as she could in order to give everyone a feel, no matter how small, of happiness. She never took it off, even if others ignored it or neglected to return it, until the last person was gone.

"Thank you Miss," said a small child as Rachel handed his tray back to him, bowl now full of the colorless goop (Rachel hoped it tasted better than it looked…and smelled). He was probably around eight or nine, with thin pale arms and small freckles over his cheeks (or maybe it was dirt?) and searing auburn hair. Just knowing the fact that kids, like this precious little boy, were homeless made Rachel want to smile wider, brighter, happier. She wanted to jump over the nasty gruel (seriously she thought this type of food only existed in movies and cartoons) and give every single person, every single child in the room a life-crushing hug. But instead, she tilted her head adoringly and murmured a soft "You're welcome sweetie."

The meal hour, as always, passed by rather quickly and soon the entire dining hall was alight with dozens of people, rubbing their tummies contently, having a moment of laughter with others, mother's rocking their children comfortingly, and brothers hugging their sisters encouragingly. Rachel had just started to clear the containers of mystery food in order for them to be washed and prepared for the next meal time (hopefully they wouldn't give anymore of the gunk), and was wiping down the stainless steel serving station when she felt a presence by the main door of the cafetorium to which her attention was promptly called too.

Even from her peripheral she had known that the person that had been by the entrance of the refuge had been beautiful. She was tall (or well, tall for Rachel; then again who wasn't tall to Rachel) with a curtain of undulant blonde locks that fell limply along her shoulders; it was messy and unruly but charmingly so, like she had just woken up from a long, satisfying afternoon nap.

Her eyes were the color of rusted gold that glinted dully in the low light of the cafetorium. There was an emotion that shone from them that Rachel couldn't quite place, it might have been annoy- no not annoyance, something more… timid and shy.

Rachel kneaded a red cleaning rag in her hands as she stared at the mysterious stranger who had yet to see her (she kind of felt like a stalker but oh well). She watched with silent curiosity as the girl's arms came up to wrap around herself as if in a form of protection, or some type of self-assurance. Against what, Rachel wasn't sure, but she felt a strong inclination of her own to wrap her arms around the girl in accompaniment.

Just like the many others Rachel had seen in the refuge, the girl secreted a certain sense of loneliness and abandonment, but again there was something… off. Something different that kept Rachel's attention firmly concentrated on the pretty blonde girl.

It seemed to Rachel, as she examined the girl quietly, that she was about the same age as herself and would have probably been one of the 'popular girls' if she had gone to Rachel's school, William McKinley High School (aka Lima's Hellhole). She was, however, scarily skinny (the kind of 'I would probably be able to see your ribs' skinny) and her back was slightly slumped as if she had been carrying a heavy load for quite a while. In her entirety however, despite the obvious malnutrition and tattered clothing, she was gorgeous. One of those people that always radiated natural beauty in some way or another and could never really be described with the adjective 'ugly' or 'unattractive'.

Her feet shuffled unsurely near the entrance of the refuge, one hand firmly planted on the door and the other flexing at her side (was she cold?). Her eyes were slightly wide and roamed rapidly around the cafetorium; as if she were debating whether she should come in completely or not. Rachel really wished she would, because it honestly hurt to see how skinny she was. She was about to exit her station and approach the girl but it was then, as Rachel watched the girl shudder minutely and chew on her pale bottom lip nervously, that she discovered the hidden emotion in the girl's precious eyes.

Fear, embarrassment, and the ever-present sadness.

At the exact moment that Rachel let the realization settle into her mind, the girl sighed heavily and turned away from the refuge entrance, sending only a hesitant look back before disappearing from Rachel's view. It caused Rachel a larger feeling of disappointment than she thought it should (she had no idea who this stranger was after all) and she felt her heart sink if only slightly. She wondered why she hadn't come in in the end. She was clearly lacking nutrition, what a better place to get it than here? But most of all she wondered if she'd be able to catch her if she left right now.

She looked around to see that most of the clean-up had been mostly completed by the other workers and Mrs. Hill, the only thing left was her station. She glanced back at the door bidding her to go. Go and look for her beautiful stranger. But Rachel Berry was nothing if not responsible. There's no way she'd neglect her duties… that didn't mean that she wasn't going to short-cut her way through them however.

"Goodnight everyone, I'm leaving a bit early today!" she announced grabbing her worn, leather messenger bag, as politely as she could out of the refuge. Quick minutes had turned into an hour and then two and then 3 hours. She had hardly left early really, and it annoyed her slightly. She hadn't given up on looking for the blonde however.

The air outside was chilly (chilly?! It was freezing!) and airy, there was a fierce breeze that lashed around Rachel and made her bones rattle and the hairs on her arms rise to attention. She frowned worriedly, remembering the tattered t-shirt and jeans the blonde stranger had been wearing. They wouldn't do at all in this weather. It was early December and Rachel had no doubt the snow days would start rolling around soon.

She huffed and watched in frustration as the air left her parted lips, her eyes flitted quickly around the vicinity as she walked down the sturdy sidewalk, hoping to catch a few locks of blonde flowing in the winter breeze (maybe she had run? There's no way she could have gotten that far). She flexed her frigid fingers in her polka-dotted mittens and sighed when her mind wandered of to the blonde girl once again, and how her fingers must be stiff and numb from the cold. She puffed out her cheeks, which were sure to have caught a rosy tinge, and wondered how the cherry red blush would look on her stranger's incredibly pale skin. Everything she felt only brought her back to the frail blonde girl and she could only hope that she was alr-

Wait.

What was she doing?

Why was she out in this cruel arctic weather looking (and worrying her butt off) for some random blonde girl, who she'd seen once in her entire life for a total of 3 minutes? (Really who did this stranger think she was, waltzing into Rachel's day and making her worry so much) Surely her brain had short-circuited somewhere along the line? This was ridiculous.

Rachel rolled her eyes at her own stupidity and groaned a little as a sudden burst of bitter wind hit her neck and made the skin there buzz and prickle (stupid, stupid Rachel. She could have been home already enjoying a warm cup of (vegan) cocoa by now). She turned her gaze to the ground, determined to give up on the search for the blonde girl, and made her way to her car.

It wasn't until she had walked a few blocks, when she reached a nearby park by which her small Toyota was neatly parked, that she saw a figure hunched over underneath a large steel slide. Rachel was neither far nor close, but a fair distance away from the lump of a human and still she could clearly tell that the figure was shivering harshly. If she wouldn't have known any better, she would have said the person was having a seizure (or maybe they were having a seizure, dear she hoped not).

She felt her eyes widen slightly and her breath hitch a little (of course that could have just been from the cold) as she neared the quivering figure and spotted what she recognized as tips of blonde hair flying haphazardly in the fierce wind. Her heart gave a little jump and her breathing quickened as she hurried her pace over to the person, which she was hoping (yes, hoping!) was her mysterious blonde stranger. She paused just before the grassy park entrance and watched the writhing body curling into itself under the slide and it suddenly hit her in that moment, a realization that made her scowl and whine inwardly, that she hadn't a clue of what she was going to do once she approached the girl (curse her impulsive nature).

"Mm." she growled lowly, her feet shifting impatiently below her. She figured she should at least invite her into her car where the cold wasn't so horrid but- she knew nothing about this stranger. She could be a murderer for all she knew (though she highly doubted it). Ugh. She couldn't just leave her out here though. She'd die! Rachel Berry could not (never ever) carry a death on her conscience; her Jiminy Cricket was just as good-hearted and loving as she was.

With that thought in mind, she trudged cautiously across the green lawn of the playground, and paused yet again when she heard- was it? Yes! Crying. Big heaving sobs. This was perfect! Well- no, clearly not perfect, duh, she was crying for goodness sakes (more like weeping from the sounds of it) but suited to the moment. At least now Rachel could say something like the customary "Hi, are you okay? I heard you crying," as opposed to the "Hi, I followed you because you looked hungry and I'm a creepy person."

"Um." She mumbled, clearing her dry throat obviously, "Excuse me? Is everything all right?"

The girl's body trembled furiously even as Rachel made herself known and slowly (too slowly for Rachel's liking) her hollow face rose from between her knees.

Rachel hadn't really been sure what she had expected to see. Crying, she guessed. Sure. She knew there would be crying. But not this- no, no, never this. Her heart had not been ready for such a sight as this.

The weather had not been this harsh a second ago. Sure it had been cold, but never like the gruesome chill that walked along Rachel's nerve ends now, with lips parted, the air leaving them in ragged puffs, as she observed her blonde stranger; eyes swollen and glistening with icy moisture that had diluted her golden eyes to a darker, duller brown. Large fat drops of salty tears stuck to her lengthy eyelashes and rolled down the sunken valleys of her cheeks, leaving their tracks imprinted against the skin there.

Oh and her cheeks! Rachel hadn't seen such a color on a person ever before (she was positive it wasn't healthy). They were purple. Purple. The kind of purple that came with punches and kicks. Plum purple. Her lips (also purple- or maybe blue) were frosted and cracked, every breath that left her mouth seemed painful and forced. Like it could be her last (positive thoughts Rachel!).

"Oh my god," Rachel couldn't help but breath. Her nose stung, her ears wrung and her eyes watered and she wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the sight before her ,"Are you… are you okay?"

Rachel hadn't wanted this- she hadn't signed up for this heartbreak when she had started looking for this girl. She hadn't been prepared for this. She hadn't been prepared when the girl coughed out a loud gut-wrenching sob in response to her words. She hadn't been prepared when she had been given that look; a look that had begged for help, love, comfort. She hadn't been at all prepared to watch the girl before her eyes transform into a terrified child, begging through tired sobs to go home; to find a place to land.

No. She hadn't been prepared for any of it, and yet her body moved of it's own accord as if she had. As if she had been preparing for this exact moment her entire life.

"Shh, hey," she mumbled brokenly, ducking under the large steel slide and next to the girl. Her arms encircled around the bony girl, burrowing themselves against her in an effort to supply all the heat she could. It was shocking, incredibly shocking, how cold her skin had been (like hugging a popsicle), if you ask Rachel she'd say she was colder than the actual weather. She pulled the shivering girl (a vibrating popsicle) onto her lap as much as she could, hugging, grabbing, covering every inch of uncovered skin she could reach.

The girl had not resisted. She had let herself be enveloped by Rachel, heck she had practically folded herself into Rachel. It was unnerving to Rachel however, to have the stranger's broken, strangled sobs breathed into her ears. It had already been bad enough to hear them from afar, but now it was just making Rachel mad. Not mad at the girl of course, but mad at her self- she wouldn't even say it was anger just… pure, raw frustration. It frustrated her to do her best to help this girl and yet nothing seemed to be doing anything. Her shivering had not deterred in the slightest and her sobs had only become more broken and breathless.

"Hey," Rachel spoke into her neck, hoping the warm breath would sooth her somehow, "Hey, hey, hey, It's-" she couldn't even say it. How could she say that everything was going to all right, when she had no idea if it would? She didn't even know if everything could be all right. She had no idea what to say. So she didn't say anything (seriously though. What could she say?).

She jostled her crimson sweater off as quickly as she could (leaving her in a long-sleeved shirt) and without untangling herself from the girl, made quick work of pulling it over the trembling figure. She hissed as the girl's icy hands brushed across her thin shirt but nonetheless pulled her back into her embrace.

Her lips curled into a fearful scowl as she listened to the girl's labored breathing. She was longer making any sort of noise and Rachel was pretty sure it was because she was incapable of doing so any longer. Rachel was also pretty sure that if she didn't get her out of this weather, things would end badly (like… deadly bad).

"Hey." She said more firmly this time, hoping to keep the girl's attention, "come on, come with me." She cooed encouragingly as she stood slowly, attempting to pull the girl up as well (and failing miserably). The girl stayed shivering on the ground, unmoving, and gave a shaky moan as if rejecting Rachel's offer.

"Please." Rachel begged desperately (was this girl really making her beg to save her?), "Please. Please, come with me. I won't- I won't hurt you, I just want to help. Please."

Rachel watched the girl closely, looking for an affirmation of any kind. She held her breath as the girl's unstable lips parted. "Okay."

She got it. The affirmation that she was looking for and yet her body stayed frozen over the girl. She had spoken and Rachel wished desperately that she hadn't. The word was breathed instead of spoken actually, but it, in no way, soothed the painful pang that her heart had made as it left the girl's lips.

Her body lunged back into action, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist and helping her up unsteadily, "Okay, let's go. Come on." She pushed gently, trudging forward across the small park.

She was trying to focus on getting this girl to her car. Really she was. But it haunted it her. "Okay." How could someone possibly put so much pain in one word? Had it just been her? Had she just heard too much into it? Maybe. Possibly. That was what her mind said. Her heart however, her soul, had no doubt.

They took small steps, most of the girl's weight supported on Rachel (she was actually quite strong for her size), as they hobbled their way to the car across the park. The cold had assaulted Rachel's shirt and barged right through it and through Rachel's skin. It felt like all the freezing air in the atmosphere had transferred into Rachel's insides; running through her bloodstream, freezing her nerves. She wondered how this fragile girl, who lived in this frigid weather, felt if Rachel felt this terrible within minutes.

She dug her car keys out of her pockets and pressed the unlock button on her car. The front lights of her Corolla flickered in welcome and Rachel swore she had never been so happy to see her car. She moved as quickly as she could, determined to get the girl out of the cold, as she gently shoved her into the passenger seat, where she immediately curled into herself, her teeth chattering without restraint. Rachel leaned over her, grabbing for her seatbelt and a blanket she always kept in the back seat (for events like this…not!) and draped it across the girl, tucking every loose corner into her.

There was a sound however that caught her attention in her important haste: the sound of words, or rather letters attempting to be formed into words as they left the girl's quaking lips. Rachel stared, her heart unwilling to hear the girl's voice again but wanting to just as badly. She stared at everything. The girl's flooded eyes, her dark purple cheeks (purple people. Purple!), the rather disturbing way her skin had become paperlike and translucent showing off the veins under it, the way her lips her lips struggled to form a word- or words Rachel could not comprehend. She thought it sounded like a T, or maybe an S (goddammit, what was she saying!?).

Rachel's hands moved to the girl's sullen cheeks, cupping them firmly but not tightly, and ran her thumbs across the bitter skin in encouragement, "What?" she asked helplessly, her fingers brushing dull blonde locks behind her ears, "What."

She couldn't help but shake her head at the desperate tone in her voice. Honestly what had this girl done to her? (how had she even gotten herself into this!?) Why was she going through all of this trouble, all this unnecessary sadness for this girl. A stranger she's never met before. Why?

The girl's eyes blinked lengthily, her lids lingering shut as if they wanted to stay closed but had been denied access, and fluttered open to reveal those troubled dark eyes that Rachel wanted so badly to sooth. They were a dark contrast to the light hazel color they had been earlier in the refuge and it scared Rachel. It almost seemed like she had been watching the light go out of her eyes little by little.

Her lips parted, parted, and then, "Th-t-tha-nk y-you." She murmured shakily and Rachel hugged her.

She hugged this blonde stranger and she thought, it didn't really matter why she was going through all of this trouble, her words had made it all worth it.