Disclaimer: We own nothing.
Warning: Graphic and violent. If you don't want to read that sort of stuff, hit the back button. Flames will be deleted.
Note: As stated in the author profile, we ignore canon where and how it suits us. We prefer telling a story to making it fit within contraints.
Author's Note from Faberry: Do not ask me where this idea came from, as I'm not sure the answer would be comprehendable. Also: writing stories over MSN is painful at the best of times, but when you're collaborating, you take what you can get. I hope you enjoy!
Author's Note from Kinn: All credit for this idea goes to my partner in crime, Faberry, because they were definitely the one who came up with the basic idea for this story. Writing it was a bit of a challenge (due to the fact that I have the attention span of a goldfish), but was very enjoyable overall, and I am looking forward to working on more of our collaborations in the future. Enjoy. =)
The Glee Club's Guilt
William Schuester, known to most of William McKinley High School as Will, or Mr Schue, looked around the auditorium. "Alright, guys, gather round!"
The twelve Glee Club students looked up from their doings.
"Yo, Schuester, what do you want?" Puck said.
"Just to confirm a few things, Puck," Will said. "Now, I've got all your permission slips. You're all going to be able to get here, right?" At the positive chorus, Will grinned. "Good. Now, what pizzas do you think we should have? I'll pick them up on my way here. Which reminds me..." He reached into his pocket and tossed Puck a key-ring. "You'll need that to get in here, if I'm late."
"You can count on the Puck-man," Puck said. "And I vote Hawaiian pizza!"
Laughing, they decided on their pizzas and dispersed.
TGCG
From his vantage point, the Punisher smiled: a cold, cruel smile. It was set up ever so well. This Glee Club would not be prepared. Seeing that everyone was gone, he too left for his home. There was still time to prepare the required things for the night's activities.
Arriving home, he made his way to a back room, where he glanced at a printed A4 sheet. It was all there, in black and white. Matthew Rutherford. Michael Chang. Brittany. Santana Lopez. Tina Cohen-Chang. Noah Puckerman. Mercedes Jones. Finn Hudson. Rachel Berry. Artie Abrams. Kurt Hummel. Quinn Fabray. And what they had done to earn the notice of the Punisher.
"It ends tonight, Glee Club," he said, mocking laughter filling the room. "I know all your secrets... all your guilt. And now... it's time to pay the piper."
He unlocked a drawer, pulling out a gun, into which he chambered gas expanding rounds. He withdrew a substantial supply of extras and left the room.
Behind him, the A4 sheet fluttered to the floor.
TGCG
"Whose brilliant idea was this sleepover?" Quinn said, rubbing her stomach with one hand, holding the phone with another. "And why did I agree to go?"
"Mr Schue suggested it," Rachel said. "And you agreed to come when I agreed to wear my barely legal nightie."
"...yeah. Damn my hormones."
"Hey, do you know how to make a hormone?"
Quinn paused, not trusting the Berry sense of humour, but said with reluctance, "I don't know; how do I make a hormone?"
"You eat me out."
Quinn facepalmed and picked up her bag. "You're terrible, Rachel. I'll be there in fifteen. You'd better be waiting."
"Of course, love."
TGCG
Not for the first time, Finn wondered why some of the advantages of being gay had been that there was no wait for the bathroom and that your significant other was ready to go anywhere in ten minutes max. Because being with Kurt meant that you got to the bathroom first thing in the morning or waited for what felt like forever and that you could expect a wait of at least an hour easy anytime you turned up to take him anywhere.
Finn had taken to making reservations an hour later than he told Kurt they were for.
He sighed, leaned back in his chair and hollered, "Kurt! You need one bag, not the whole frakking bathroom! By the time you're ready to go, the others will have gone home!"
"You don't expect me to leave the house without hairspray, moisturiser and facial cleanser, do you? I need to look my best!"
Finn rubbed his temples. "Kurt, you once threw up on Miss Pillsbury's shoes; I doubt you can look much worse than that. Trust me: they don't care if you look like shit."
Kurt stuck his head out of the bathroom. "I care."
"...you suck."
"And I swallow. Why are you complaining now?"
Finn pretended not to see the enquiring look Burt Hummel gave him.
TGCG
Pulling up to the front of the high school, Puck pulled the key out of the ignition, leaning back against the seat. He turned to his right, raising an eyebrow at Mercedes. "Well?"
"Now you get to help me in with the snacks, seeing as you believed we needed fifty bottles of pop," Mercedes said. "Honestly, who drinks that much? Certainly not me—and I believe—not anyone else."
Puck smirked. "You've obviously never seen the Puckster at a party, have you?"
Mercedes didn't answer, loading herself with a couple of bags. Rachel and Quinn turned up, as did Tina and Artie, and with a few extra hands to do the work, the snacks were soon ferried into the building, from where Puck, Finn and Rachel took them to the auditorium, everyone stashing their bags and sleeping gear 'wherever it landed' as Quinn quipped.
They all congregated in the middle of the stage, chatting idly while waiting for the remaining Glee clubbers to arrive. Mike, Matt, Brittany and Santana arrived shortly after; each had their fair share of sleeping gear and luggage. None were surprised at Kurt and Finn being the last to come.
Kurt and Finn turned up a few minutes later—Finn looking more flushed than normal—and stashed their gear, looking around. "Where's the boss?" Finn said. "Wasn't he gonna meet us here?"
"Yes, but he was picking up the pizzas first," Mercedes said. "He took the orders this morning, remember?"
"Oh. Right," Finn said sheepishly, having completely forgotten about that.
"It shouldn't be taking him this long, though, should it?" Tina said. "After all, it's probably illegal for us to be here without him present..."
Quinn looked at her watch. "Well... yeah, he should be here already. My watch says it is quarter after six, and Mr Schuester told me he'd be here at six. Anyone want to call him?"
Kurt pulled out his phone and dialled, putting it on speakerphone for everyone to hear.
"Oh, hey, Kurt; look, I'm going to be a little late. Probably about sev—BLAM!"
The gunshot echoed in the auditorium and Kurt stupidly thought, 'Putting it on speakerphone was dumb...'
Brittany screeched as the sound echoed throughout the auditorium, covering her ears and muttering something about loud noises. The rest of the Glee clubbers shared looks of confusion and shock.
"...Mr. Schue?" Kurt said, slightly worried about his teacher. "Are you alright?"
"No, your friend is not alright."
"Who is this?" Kurt said, ignoring the chills up and down his spine.
"I? I am the Observer. The Balancer."
There was silence. "I am also the Punisher. And you, my little Glee Club... your guilt will be known and punished."
The phone clicked off.
TGCG
No one moved—later, Kurt would swear that no one had even breathed—all of them captivated by silent terror, trying to process what they had just heard. It clicked into their reality and utter chaos ensued. Brittany curled up in the foetal position, rocking back and forth and Santana knelt beside her, brushing the hair out of Brittany's eyes, trying to calm the girl and make sense of her unintelligible whimpers. Tina was sitting on Artie's lap, face full of terror, unable to comprehend what she had just heard. Artie squeezed her hand, holding her close. And the others weren't doing much better. The volume in the auditorium rose and rose, until things snapped back into clarity for Finn and Kurt. They needed to protect themselves.
"Brittany, you and Puck, you two go lock up the gates we entered by," Finn said. "Artie, you and Tina stay here, guard the auditorium." He beckoned everyone closer. "Herbie on an elephant egg. We need to say that, or we don't get back in. Quinn, Rachel, you guard the entrance, and let Puck and Brittany back in, and lock the doors. Rest of us, we'll lock the school down."
Everyone looked at him and Finn stared back, a grim expression marring his features. "Unless you'd rather end up like Schue? Yeah, this is scary; hell, I don't know how I'm not shitting my pants—"
"Thank you for that lovely overshare," Rachel said.
"—but we need to focus here."
His friends nodded, accepting his words.
"We can do that," Mercedes said. "Shouldn't we call the cops?"
"Yes, after we lock the school down," Kurt said. "We need to protect ourselves first. Police won't do us any good if he's in the school with us."
Everyone nodded and then flew into action.
TGCG
Brittany and Puck dashed out to the gates, Puck fumbling for the keys. He half expected to drop them—wasn't that what happened in movies and such like?—but didn't, locking the gates in a smooth, fluid motion before the two turned back to the school, catching their breath.
"Come on, Britt," Puck said, grabbing her hand—before freezing as a shadow fell over them.
"Brittany..."
Brittany shoved Puck away, breathing faster. "Run, Puck!"
"What?"
Brittany reared back and kicked Puck clean in the jaw, watching him stumble back. "WHEN I TELL YOU TO RUN, YOU RUN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, NOAH PUCKERMAN?"
Puck stumbled away, wondering if he'd get a bullet in the back, but it seemed that Brittany was more interesting to the shadow.
"Brittany... how heroic."
"What do you want?" she said, staring at the man. The darkness hid his face.
"I told you. I am the Punisher."
"And what have I done?"
"You were babysitting."
Brittany's eyes went wide. "No! That was not my fault!"
"No? So you shouldn't have been paying attention?"
"But... I didn't mean for it!"
"Because of you, Brittany, a bright, cheerful three year old lies buried. Because you didn't check up on him as was your proscribed duty."
"He was supposed to be asleep!"
"Excuses, Brittany. You should have been paying attention. You weren't and he died. Now... you die."
Brittany stared back at him before performing another kick—this one connecting with the stomach—but it seemed not to faze him. Stunned realisation came over her features and she ran for the doors where her friends waited.
Two gunshots rang out. Brittany collapsed inside the door of the school, her back a mess of ragged flesh and exposed bone, dragged inside by Quinn and Puck, looking up at them glassily.
"It's... he's..."
Before any of them could say anything, Brittany's eyes were devoid of life.
TGCG
Quinn stared at Brittany's lifeless body, in too much shock to notice that her sundress was being soaked in her friend's blood. Tears slid down her cheeks unheeded and she looked at Puck. He stared back, seeing the plea for instructions in her eyes, along with terror. He knelt, picking up Brittany's body, hearing Rachel check and recheck the locks.
"We've got to go back to the auditorium and call the cops," Puck said, walking away. He felt Quinn trailing behind, like a little lamb, Rachel whispering comfort to her. As they neared the auditorium, they looked around. Seeing no one, Puck gave the password and they filed in. Puck set Brittany down on the stage and stood up, not caring about the blood all over him.
Everyone stared at him, eyes turning to Brittany's pale form.
"No..." Tina said.
"We need the cops," Puck said. "Who's got a phone?"
Kurt pulled out his phone, checking to see that there was service before punching in 911. He waited and waited until he looked at the phone again. There was no service.
"I had service, but it died. Anyone else have reception?"
The others pulled out their phones, each shoving them back when they saw no service was available. Finn didn't give up so easily, holding it up above his head, moving around the auditorium, but even he gave up after some twenty minutes.
Meanwhile, Santana was kneeling besides Brittany's body, trying to gather up the courage to touch her and failing. Kurt watched her as she stared for an eternity before a shriek of despair ripped from her throat, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"This doesn't make sense—we've always had service—" Finn cut himself off, staring at Santana. For the Glee members, their world was full of certain, inalienable facts. The sun rose in the east, Kurt was gay, Quinn had sworn off men because of Puck—and Santana had no public displays of any emotion; nothing phased that girl. Yet, here she was, sobs wracking her body as she tried to comprehend that Brittany was gone.
Rachel pulled Quinn to her, kissing her temple softly as she looked around. "We can't... we can't lose it. Maybe the service thing is just a glitch..."
"We're all on different providers," Mercedes said. "Yeah, one provider could go down. Four of them at the same time break the laws of believable coincidence."
"Our parents will call the cops when we don't turn up tomorrow," Mike said. "We just have to wait about twelve hours. We can do that. What happened out there?"
Tina stared at him. "Why do we have to hear what happened? I think it's obvious what happened!"
"Because it might give us an idea of what this asshole wants," Mercedes said. "Puck, what happened?"
Puck didn't answer at first, getting off the stage. Santana had gone quiet, still looking at Brittany and it was creeping him out. The others followed him, listening as he began the recounting, his voice dead throughout the entire tale, apart from when he spoke of how he ran, abandoning Brittany. The teens could hear the absolute self loathing in his voice then, exchanging worried glances when it disappeared.
TGCG
Silence had fallen after Puck's recounting. They wanted to comfort Puck, but none of them knew what to say and he'd brushed Mercedes off when she tried to hug him—so they let him be, each trying to make some sense out of the insanity.
"Okay, it makes a little sense," Quinn said, walking around. "Fair's fair, if you're babysitting, you are responsible. You have to make sure things don't happen that shouldn't happen. Brittany was responsible for a child. She didn't do her job properly and the kid died. Maybe it was an accident, but even so, Brittany's responsibility for it is clear."
"Fuck you, Quinn!" Matt exploded. "You can't say stuff like that!"
"Matt, that's my job," Rachel said. "Quinn, he's right though; you can't say shit like that."
Quinn shrugged. "That's where it falls apart, you see. This... Punisher appears to believe Brittany had not been punished for it and so he would. Why wasn't she punished at the time? A kid dying on your watch is pretty bad and yet, Brittany got off free. She got off, because she wasn't at fault for the incident. She can't have been, William McKinley would never have accepted her if she had any sort of record from that."
The tension in the room eased a little as Quinn's intent became clear, but flared back up as Artie cradled his head in his hands. "So what do we do now?"
"Well..." Finn said, before he realised he had no clue. What were they were supposed to do. Sit there and wait to be killed? Fight back and die anyway? He turned to Kurt for guidance, giving an almost imperceptible shrug.
"We find weapons." Kurt said, eyes locking with Finn's. "Whatever we can find in here—bars, chairs—anything we can lift without issue that will protect us. We need to barricade the doors—not sure how we'll do that, but the last thing we need is for him to somehow get in here with us. Then, we guard the place, until tomorrow. Like Mike said, our parents will do something when we're not home." He nodded at Finn, as if to say 'trust me'.
"And then..." Kurt said, addressing the rest of the group. "Then we wait."
TGCG
There wasn't much in the auditorium, but they were able to get themselves armed—mostly with props from behind the stage, as well as a couple of steel bars wrenched from various mechanisms—and they formed a circle, sitting outwards to catch any movement.
Santana was still kneeling next to Brittany, unresponsive to anything. Yet none of them could get her to leave Brittany's body. A brief debate had ensued about forcing her, but Kurt had vetoed that, saying that Santana's grief needed to be respected.
The teens were jerking at any noise, settling down moments later as they realised that it was nothing to worry about.
"This is not going to be a fun night," Mercedes said with a sigh.
"How right you are, Mercedes."
The teens jumped up, but as they were not on the stage, they weren't able to stop the man yanking Santana up by her hair, getting a good grip on her as he pushed a gun against her temple. Santana didn't react whatsoever, apart from little whimpers of pain from the treatment she was getting.
"I am the Punisher. Now, it's really up to you as whether Santana Lopez dies or not," the Punisher said. "If you cooperate and play my game, she'll live. If you don't... well, I'm sure you're all smart enough."
"What do you want to play, fucker?" Artie said, glaring at him.
"It's a very simple game," the Punisher said. "We're all going to admit to something in our past, something of our own guilt."
"Like you did with Brittany?" Mercedes said, her hands clenched around the steel bar.
The Punisher laughed. "Exactly, Glee Club. You don't get to perform evil acts and get away with it." He looked around at them. "But which one first? Who's done something so evil they can't be allowed the luxury of living?"
The teens stood still, unwilling to sacrifice Santana.
"Ah... yes. It's time to finally be a man. Speak up, Michael Chang."
TGCG
Mike looked around at his friends, finding his voice wouldn't quite work. Failing to conceal his terror, he stepped forward, feeling the others positioning themselves behind him in support and managed to get out a, "Yeah?" His voice cracked in the middle.
"Does the name Holly Albrecht mean anything to you?"
Mike's face paled, thereby costing him a chance to lie.
"Yes, I thought it would. So, Michael, tell us about Holly."
Mike breathed in measured gasps, trying to figure out what to do, but when Santana's head was yanked back and he saw the glint of a knife at her throat, he cleared his throat and began to speak. "Uh, Holly's my cousin; she's a couple of years older than me. She's um... she's in a psychiatric ward, has been for five years."
"Well, that's interesting, Michael. Why was she put in there?"
"Because... because she's gone crazy," Mike said, his voice almost inaudible. "No one would believe her when she claimed her dad had been raping her nightly since her eighth birthday. She snapped and had to be put away."
Tina could be heard muttering something about worthless fathers before Artie shushed her.
"And what does all this have to do with you, Michael?" the Punisher said.
Mike hung his head, shame evident. Even now, he could not bring himself to speak.
"You are ashamed; very good," the Punisher said. "But that will not save you. For there can be no redemption for one who destroyed a girl who endured something she should not have had to, all because she knew that without proof, nothing would happen. Yet, one day, she had proof, for she was molested whilst her cousin was in the next bed. She came forward, pointed to her cousin as the one who could back her up—and he said Holly was lying, that she was claiming this to get back at her father for taking away her horses."
TGCG
Silence filled the auditorium, the teens staring at Mike. None wanted to believe he could have done that, but this Punisher man was certain he'd done it and Mike wasn't challenging him, clearly ashamed of it. That wasn't the Mike they knew, though... but on this day, it seemed like anything was possible.
"I didn't have a choice!" Mike shouted. "I wanted to back her up, but I couldn't!"
"Didn't have a choice, huh?" the Punisher said. "There's always a choice, Michael. Your choice was to tell the truth—or lie. You chose to lie, so explain how you didn't have a choice."
"He said that if I told anyone, it'd be me next, only worse!" Mike exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. "I... I was young, I was scared, I... didn't know what to do about everything, so I... I just lied."
"Yes, you lied, destroying a girl who had done nothing wrong," the Punisher said, pulling his gun out. "How, therefore, can you deserve any less?"
The gunshot echoed, Mike's head exploding in a mess of blood, flesh and bone.
Blood sprayed onto Kurt and Finn, the boys flinching away from it. Quinn, Rachel and Tina started screaming as the headless body fell like a puppet which had its strings cut. Mercedes clutched Puck's hand, her breathing shallow as she stared between the body and the Punisher.
"You're a monster," Matt said, staring at him.
"A monster, you say? No, I am justice," the Punisher said. "And even if I am a monster, I am not really any more of a monster than any of you." He leapt off the stage, dragging Santana with him and she still did nothing, a passive toy in his hands. "You have little choice but to accept what happens. You cannot leave without the death of another on your conscience—but you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Puck?"
"Fuck you, man. Fuck you right in the ear!" Puck glared at the Punisher, his body vibrating with tension.
"I'd prefer if you kept your sexual proclivities to yourself, thanks. It's bad enough we have two fags and two dykes here. Or should that be three dykes?" the Punisher said, shaking Santana. "Can you be a dyke if you have no one to be a dyke with?"
Finn growled. "God, you're an asshole, you know that?"
Rachel kept Quinn close. "We're not harming anyone. Love doesn't hurt anyone, you close minded homophobe!"
Kurt shook his head in disbelief. "Is that why you're here? Because of us 'fags' and 'dykes'? Is that why you're in here, killing us off one by one?"
"Gee, you're dumber than your boyfriend. And here I thought you were the smart one." He shook Santana again. "I'm here because you all have done wrong and you will no longer be allowed to get away with it."
"You're mental," Artie said. "Who are you to play God? I can see that Mike did not do what he should have. I can see that it had horrible consequences. But how does that mean he's deserving of death? He was a kid! KIDS DO STUPID THINGS!"
"So, you're telling us we're supposed to just sit here and wait to die, no questions asked?" Mercedes said, her attitude coming through loud and clear, even under the current stress. "Because I am not down with that! So shove that in your pipe and smoke it!"
"You speak as though you have a choice, Mercedes," the Punisher said, his knife sliding over Santana's skin, almost like a caress. "Tell me, what choices do you have? I see very few choices for you, seeing as the following facts are indisputable. I have blocked your cell phones. No one will hear your screams for help. And none of you are brave enough to have Santana's life on your hands."
TGCG
The teens gathered closer, unwillingly conceding that the Punisher held all the cards.
"You killed Mr Schue," Puck said.
"If you say I did."
"Why would he tell you about the sleepover?" Tina said.
"My dear, it wasn't like there was a choice, was there?"
"Yeah, well... fuck your choices. And fuck you!" Quinn snapped, huddling back into Rachel's embrace. The teens turned their backs on him, looking at each other.
"Still no reception," Finn said quietly. "And I'd imagine that if we made a break for it, he'd kill us after he killed Santana."
A glint of determination flashed through Puck's eyes at Finn's words. He snuck a glance at Santana, and was met with a dead stare, her eyes glazed over as she stared ahead. It was as if she'd been killed along with Brittany. Mercedes and Artie caught this look, although they thought nothing of it then. Looking back on it, they would figure that it was that moment that he'd made his decision.
Puck pulled away from the group just a little, his hand gripping the steel bar they'd wrenched from the pulley system before he turned and ran at their tormentor, bringing the bar down on his shoulder.
Santana screamed as her throat was sliced open, the screams dying off almost immediately as she fell, her throat a geyser of blood as her life ebbed away and still Puck attacked until he was thrown back, a gunshot echoing as his chest exploded.
The Punisher stood, his arm hanging limply, wincing as he moved it. The gun fired once more, obliterating Puck's face before he swung it to cover the group. "And so ends the unlamented Noah Puckerman."
TGCG
It had all happened so fast, that it took the Glee kids a few seconds to fully process what had happened. The floor began to pool with red, their friends' blood becoming an indiscriminate mix.
"You... you bastard!" Quinn screamed, a tear rolling down her cheek. Rachel held her close in an attempt to provide comfort, increasing her hold's strength as Quinn fought her. Rachel understood the hatred coursing through Quinn—she felt the same hatred inside herself—but she was not going to let Quinn face the same fate as their friends.
Tina shook, cuddling closer to Artie, who leaned his head against her shoulder. Finn pressed against Kurt, the two looking almost defeated. Matt and Mercedes snuggled together, seeking comfort. Getting out no longer mattered—indeed, nothing mattered to the teens anymore, except supporting each other. Whatever end that came, would come. They'd hadn't encouraged Puck—but all his failed attack proved was that unless they could mount a successful attack, they were dead—and of course they couldn't; he'd be expecting an attack now.
"What did Puck ever do?" Quinn said. Her voice was almost inaudible from the tears.
"It doesn't matter now," the Punisher said. "He has paid for his crimes, even though he shall never know the peace of the Elysian Fields. The blood of Santana Lopez, as well as Brittany, stains his soul."
"You need some severe psychological help," Tina said.
"As will we all," muttered Mercedes.
"He didn't kill Santana," Tina went on. "You did, physically just now; emotionally and mentally when you killed Brittany. She never once fought you when she was in your grasp, for she was too far gone to care!"
The Punisher stared at Tina. "Perhaps that is so. But we have gone long without a confession. You, Tina Cohen-Chang, you will confess."
TGCG
Tina swallowed, closing her eyes before turning to Artie and kissing him hard. Breaking the kiss, she cast her eyes over the rest of her friends.
"It's been... it's..."
She faltered, trying not to look at Artie before she stood up, looking at the Punisher, her voice betraying none of her fear. "I do not know what you refer to. What is it that I have done?"
"Your crime, Tina Cohen-Chang, was to neglect your guard duty, as it were, resulting in death."
Tina nodded, tilting her head in an absent matter before she spoke again, her voice almost ethereal as she did. "My... grandmother was ill. Rather than have her in the hospital, my parents wanted for her to be at home, so she would be more comfortable. This was approved by the hospital and so it was done."
Tina stepped away just a fraction and continued. "It was... a stressful time; my parents were not getting enough sleep. Therefore I volunteered one night to stay up with her, in case she needed us, as she had done in the past. My parents accepted the offer and left me to watch over my grandmother. And I fell asleep myself after some time and did not wake again until the morning, by which time it was too late: my grandmother had passed away of a heart attack. Had I not fallen asleep, I could have alerted an ambulance at the first signs of distress and my grandmother might still be alive."
The room had been silent since the Punisher directed Tina to speak and as the Punisher began to lift his gun, Mercedes spoke up.
"Tina... why... I mean..." Mercedes faltered. The words were clear enough in her head, but refused to come out.
"Why did I fall asleep?" Tina said, receiving nods from her friends. "Remember the situation. My grandmother was sick, likely to die at any point. We hoped not, we prayed not. Still, it was stressful, it was tense. It takes its toll, exacts a price. I did not have much to do with her, because I was eight; my parents kept me out of the house as much as they could. Have you been kept from your home, had to be ever so quiet when you were there, afraid to speak up and ask for meals because you don't want to be snapped at out of stress and worry, though it seems that you've done nothing wrong to deserve such treatment?"
No one answered and Tina smiled faintly. "I thought not. It got to me, the stress and tension. Therefore I succumbed."
"But how is that Tina's fault?" Kurt exclaimed, his words directed not at Tina, but at the Punisher. "She was just a kid. Kids make mistakes."
"Ah, Kurt, Kurt," the Punisher said, walking back onto the stage, keeping his gun trained on Tina. "I have told you that I am the Balancer. Remember the creed: an eye for an eye... a life for a life."
Tina didn't even have a chance to scream as rapid gunfire tore her head from her shoulders, the head bouncing once or twice on the floor.
TGCG
"Tina!"
Artie's scream could probably have been heard outside in the parking lot, if there had been anyone there to hear it. He wheeled over to her fallen body, staring at it before reaching down to grasp Tina's lifeless hand with both of his, sobbing hard.
The others could not keep their tears from falling as they watched Artie sobbing as he pressed a kiss to Tina's cooling fingers.
Kurt made his way over to Artie, half expecting to get shot or something and knelt beside him, a hand on his shoulder. Finn followed and they were soon all huddled around Artie, trying to support him and offer comfort. There was nothing they could say to ease the pain and nothing they could do to end this torment.
"Jesus, what a hypocrite."
"You shut the fuck up!" Matt roared, whirling on the Punisher. "Artie loved Tina!"
The Punisher was... was he actually startled? He stared at Matt, before laughing a little.
"Oh, no, I didn't mean him. I admire the little cripple. He's lost someone, so he grieves."
Rachel growled. "Are you against everyone who isn't in a specific classification? Because if you're not aware of this fact, let me tell you: you're starting to sound like fucking Hitler."
"My dear Miss Berry, you just Godwin'ed yourself, but no matter."
"So who's a hypocrite then?" Matt snarled.
"Why, you, Matthew."
TGCG
"How so?" Matt said, wishing he could do more than glare at the Punisher.
"You are comforting Artie, are you not?"
Matt stared at the Punisher, disbelief crossing his face. "Of course I am. What sort of a friend wouldn't be comforting their friend after their girlfriend just got murdered?"
"Well, I suppose a bad one. It just strikes me that you comforting someone... well... it's just so out of left field, Matthew."
Matt's eyebrows knit together at the Punisher's words for a second, before understanding settled onto his features and he looked away.
"You understand what I mean, then. Poor Jason Truman..."
Matt hesitated for a moment and then nodded, still looking down at his feet.
"Well, speak up, Matthew. There's little point if your friends can't hear you."
Matt sighed and turned his back on the Punisher. "You all remember Jason, right?"
"Yeah, he killed himself," Artie said, hiccupping.
"Was pretty gruesome," Finn said, not thinking as usual. "He got a knife and just stabbed and cut his limbs open and died of blood loss... they had a hard time stitching him back together before the funeral."
Rachel turned green, leaned away and puked, splattering Tina's head with her stomach contents.
Matt nodded a fraction. "He never left a note, never explained to anyone why he did what he did... but..."
"Can't say it, Matthew?" the Punisher said, mockery evident. "At least Tina had balls."
Matt's hands balled into fists and he turned around, making eye contact with the Punisher. "I never bullied him. I never said a word to him, good or bad. But... I was there when others did. And I never stopped them..."
"And all it takes for evil to prosper is for good men to stand by and do nothing," the Punisher said. "Imagine it. If you had spoken up, maybe he would have found a reason to go on."
"So where are the others!" Kurt shouted. "Matt was there, what about the others who did something? I don't see them getting killed!"
The Punisher laughed, sending chills down their spines. "Them? I wish them a long life, Kurt Hummel. I care not for their crimes, only for the crimes of the Glee Club."
"Are you fucking insane?" Finn exclaimed ever so eloquently. "What'd we ever do to you? Why do we deserve this shit?"
"Does not evil deserve to be stamped out?"
"Yeah, but why do we have to be singled out?"
"And if evil has to be stamped out," Mercedes said, "can't we stamp out you?"
The Punisher considered this, before firing his gun at Matt, who fell to the ground, quickly expiring.
TGCG
The six remaining teens looked once at Matt, then back up to the Punisher. After seeing five friends go down, they were inured to the random execution of their friends. They just hoped that it wouldn't be one of them next.
"Would anyone like to hear some good news?" the Punisher said, laughing when no one responded. "Well, let me be the first to tell you: your crimes, according to the previous statement, allow you to keep on living."
They stared at him, their minds almost at the point of unhinging.
"You know we're going to report you, right?" Artie said uncertainly, not wanting to get killed.
"Oh, I'd love to see that," the Punisher said. "I'm dressed in black, I'm fat, I'm over six feet tall and you can't see my face." No one responded to that all true statement and he laughed again. "See? Even you realise the police can't do anything with that."
Artie went silent, once more unwilling to concede the point. He looked down at Tina's body and then back at his friends, seeing the same resolve in all their eyes: they wanted this Punisher to pay for what he'd done to their group.
"Of course... just because you're not going to die, doesn't mean you might not prefer to. Who next... well, why not those two dykes over there? Rachel, bring your girlfriend up here."
"Grow up," Rachel muttered, obeying with reluctance. The two kept their eyes locked together as much as possible, letting the Punisher stand between them and Brittany's body. They clung to each other for support, shaking a little.
"I have a small problem," the Punisher said.
"Seeing two girls going at it won't fix that," Quinn said.
The Punisher pointed the gun at her. "The infamous Fabray wit; I wondered when it would show up. Good thing we won't have to hear it for much longer."
"What do you want?" Rachel said, trying to hide her fear.
"Quinn, will you tell us about Lily Cranston, please?"
Quinn stilled, leaning against Rachel. "Lily was one of my babysitting charges. I often babysat her. One day, I was asked to come to the mall with Mrs Cranston, to help babysit Lily as the older kids got new clothing and such."
Quinn shivered and Rachel pulled her closer. "We still don't know what happened, apart from me losing track of her for just five minutes. But it was long enough. Lily was snatched up. She hasn't been found, even though monthly, regular updates come. She's growing up somewhere, and they can't find her. Her mother hates the photos, and yet looks forward to them, because they're all she has of her daughter."
"Indeed. And her mother has not heard her daughter since."
Everyone else stared up at Quinn and Rachel, eyes flicking to the Punisher. Compassion and worry warred on their faces—Quinn had taken the incident to heart, as evidenced by her words about Brittany earlier: she had applied to Brittany the same standards she held herself to. Kurt and Mercedes almost got up to go and stand with Quinn, but thought better of that impulse.
"Rachel."
"What?"
The Punisher picked up a knife and tossed it across the stage. "Take this knife and stab it through Quinn's throat. Just as Lily is never heard, so will she not be."
TGCG
Rachel stared at the knife, making no move to pick it up. "I'm not doing that. You really are mental if you think I will."
"So you would choose death?" the Punisher said, pointing the gun at Rachel.
"Over hurting the one I love? No question about it."
The Punisher nodded, beginning to pull the trigger.
"Don't shoot!" Quinn shouted, pulling Rachel to her, turning the girl around to look at her. "Rachel, do it. We haven't got any choice here. I can live without my voice. I can't live without you."
"But I can't hurt you..."
"It's not you, love. Not you, never you." Quinn pulled Rachel closer, kissing her softly before pulling back. "I love you, Rachel. I always will."
Rachel swallowed and picked up the knife, steeling herself before she rammed the knife home, forever robbing Quinn of the ability to talk.
TGCG
The four teens still on the floor winced as the deed was done, their faces reflecting a fraction of the torment on Rachel's face—torment that multiplied when Quinn opened her mouth to cry at the pain and nothing came out. Rachel dropped her hand, sobbing, unable to look at what she'd done.
Mercedes wiped a few tears from her eyes, watching the scene with the horrified fascination of one who wishes they could turn away but can't.
Kurt noticed Mercedes' tears, before seeing that Artie was behind her, staring hard at him. He gave Artie a look, wondering what Artie wanted.
Artie mouthed, "He's distracted and making them inflict the harm is just... that's too much. Let's take him."
"We'll die! That's why we haven't been taking him!"
"Live free or dead, Kurt. You know that."
Kurt nodded, thinking as he walked over to Artie, giving him another hug.
"Now, Quinn, it's your turn. Rachel."
"What do you want to know?" Rachel said, her voice devoid of life.
"Tell us, Rachel, of what happened eight years ago."
Rachel shrugged. "What's to tell? I was tired of being picked on for my gay dads. So I ran away. My dads, they love me though, so they came looking for me. They got into an accident, not a bad one, but... the windshield shattered. The damage wasn't irreparable. Just means he has to wear glasses now if he wants to see clearly."
The Punisher passed Quinn a knife. "And now, Quinn, you get to take her eyes from her."
TGCG
Quinn looked at the knife and back at Rachel, but Rachel looked back at her with unblinking eyes. She wouldn't complain, not after what she had done to Quinn.
"Um..." Mercedes said, looking around for a first aid kit. Finding one, she removed the packages of sterile gauze. "You'll need these, Quinn..."
The Punisher made no comment, allowing Mercedes to hand over the gauze.
Quinn pushed the gauze into her pocket, staring at Rachel with a look of absolute sorrow. Out of habit, she opened her mouth to speak, but seeing Rachel's renewed tears, she closed her mouth. Instead, she placed a hand on the back of Rachel's head, drawing her closer to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I love you," she mouthed to Rachel as she pulled back, tears in her eyes spilling over as she raised the knife.
Rachel fixed Quinn with a long look, memorising every last piece of her love's face before the knife descended, slicing through both eyes as quickly as Quinn could do it. Rachel lost a battle not to scream, feeling the fluids and eyeball dripping from the sockets before a ripping noise was heard and then the sockets were filled with gauze. She clung to Quinn, who took her off the stage, finding her a seat.
TGCG
Kurt and Artie looked at each other, nodding. Watching Quinn and Rachel go back to their seats, both lacking what they claimed was vital in their relationship cemented their resolve. Quinn always said that no matter how not in the mood to express love Rachel might be, she could look into Rachel's eyes and see that she was loved. Rachel derived the same comfort from hearing the words, especially when Quinn said them a certain way. No one had ever heard this certain way, even when Quinn had done it in front of them.
Kurt turned to Finn, who was sitting beside him, shaking, terrified.
"Finn..." he whispered, grabbing the taller boy's hand in his own small one, squeezing it gently. "Finn, in case anything happens..." His voice wavered and he silently pressed his lips to Finn's, trying to explain everything he couldn't voice with that one kiss.
"Please just stay safe, Finn. For me."
The Punisher looked at Artie. "Hmm... that wheelchair's going to make it hard to get on the stage, isn't it?"
"I guess..." Artie said.
The Punisher nodded and jumped off the stage, coming over to Artie, who began to wheel back slowly.
"Please don't hurt me..."
"Hurt you? Artie, Artie, Artie, you're not going to get hurt. You're going to be cleansed, purified. Now why don't you admit to what you did?"
TGCG
Kurt watched Artie, gripping the steel bar before springing into action as quietly as he could, bringing the bar directly down on the Punisher's lower back. The Punisher shouted, falling forward and Artie grabbed his arms, trying to keep them from moving.
The Punisher struggled, but Artie was surprisingly strong for his size, keeping the Punisher's arms down with minimal difficulty. Kurt slowly walked over to the Punisher, standing over him and staring down at him with the strongest look of disgust and hatred that he could muster, before raising the bar over his head, slamming it down into the Punisher's shoulder blades repeatedly, strangled grunts escaping his lips every time the bar made contact with the Punisher's torso.
Artie couldn't handle the assault and let go, rolling back as the Punisher fell. The Punisher grabbed his gun, kicking out at Kurt, but was beset by Finn and Mercedes.
"The noise... what's going on?" Rachel shrieked, terror in her voice.
Quinn winced, wishing so badly she could tell Rachel or go join in, but she couldn't do either; Rachel would stay here only if she did and of them all, Rachel was the most vulnerable now.
"You filthy little bastard!" Finn shouted, slamming the Punisher's head against Artie's wheelchair. Artie eeped as he overbalanced, avoiding cracking his skull against the floor. Mercedes grabbed the Punisher around the neck, squeezing tighter as the gun went off. Finn screamed, his knee obliterated and then screamed again as Kurt aggravated it by doing a bellyflop wrestling move onto the pile, his fists flying.
Finn saw the Punisher trying to get another shot off and reached out, fumbling with him for the gun. Mercedes kneed the Punisher in the balls as Kurt slammed his bar against the Punisher's chest.
Rachel screamed again as another gunshot echoed.
TGCG
Kurt and Mercedes stood up, checking themselves for injuries. Kurt walked over to Finn and looked dispassionately at the leg, applying a tourniquet to his leg just above the knee. Finn gave him a weak smile. Mercedes helped Artie back into his wheelchair, placing his glasses back on and then hugged him.
The peace was momentarily shattered when Rachel screamed, "Someone please explain what the fuck is going on?"
All but Quinn ignored Rachel's outburst, wrapped up in what they were doing. Quinn stroked Rachel's back and she calmed a little, thinking.
"Is he gone?" Rachel said, having reached that as the most likely conclusion.
Again, everyone ignored her, except for Quinn, who placed her hand on the back of her head, and made Rachel nod her head.
"Good. Can we call the cops now please?"
Mercedes nodded and resisted facepalming as she spoke up. "If we have service, I will definitely call the police. I doubt we will, so we'll need to go to the offices."
As Mercedes checked her phone, Kurt grasped Finn's shoulders, making the ridiculously pale boy look into his eyes.
"Finn," he said, keeping his voice as steady as possible. "Stay with me. No passing out on me, alright?"
Finn gave a shaky nod. Kurt grabbed Finn under his arms, supporting most of his weight for him as he took Finn over to a chair. Once Finn was situated, he looked at the remains of Finn's leg: the bullet had impacted the knee and as with all the other wounds, the knee had exploded, leaving the lower leg attached only by a few tendons. The blood had stopped flowing, however, which Kurt silently sent prayers up for.
"Oh, Finn..." he said, taking the vacant seat beside Finn, grabbing onto his hand and squeezing it comfortingly.
"Least I don't have it as bad as Faberry," Finn said, his voice almost inaudible. "And... you know, Rachel might be able to get her eyesight back, if she can have transplants. She won't though."
"What do you mean?" Kurt said.
"Quinn's not going to get her voice back," Finn said. "And do you really think Rachel will take her eyesight back if Quinn can't use her voice?"
Kurt looked down at his lap. He'd thought the points they were unwilling to concede had ended with the Punisher's death.
"Besides... it's probably better that way," Finn said. "God knows I wouldn't want to look at what I did."
"No luck with service," Mercedes said. "Maybe we should check the guy for identification before we head to the offices?"
TGCG
No one wanted to do it, but after a few minutes, Artie wheeled over and began exploring the clothing for pockets. He frowned, poking the stomach. It didn't feel like skin. He lifted a bit of the Punisher's shirt up, and his eyes widened. "It's a fat suit, guys. He's wearing a fat suit."
Quinn came over, having seen Artie's difficulties and soon had the fat suit off. The Punisher wore shorts and a t-shirt, and Quinn dug into the fat bulge in the shorts, pulling out a wallet before paling. She opened the wallet, already knowing what she'd find. Her suspicions were confirmed as she found the drivers' license, which she handed to Artie before going back to Rachel and beginning to cry, shoulders heaving as she leaned into Rachel.
Rachel felt Quinn sobbing against her shoulder, and wrapped her arms around her, comforting the girl. "W-what's going on? Who is he?"
Artie's mouth hung open, and he didn't do anything as Mercedes snatched the license out of his hands, gasping herself as she saw whose face graced it. With shaking hands, she handed it to Kurt, who looked at it, his grip on Finn's hand tightening.
"Who is he?" Rachel repeated.
"It's..." Kurt shook his head, unable to believe this.
"If he wasn't dead already, I'd fucking kill him," Finn said.
"Guys, I know we're all stressed and exhausted," Rachel said, trying to keep her tone even, "but come on, give me a break."
Artie's tone was flat. "He flipped out on us. It's good ol' Mr. Schue."
TGCG
Whilst Rachel tried to process this, Artie wheeled over to Finn and Kurt. Kurt smiled a little, helping Finn into Artie's lap. Mercedes grabbed the handles and Kurt went over to Rachel and Quinn, taking Rachel's free hand. In silence, the six made their way to the offices, Mercedes setting a pace that was fast, yet not so fast that Finn was in extra pain. Finn looked like he was going to pass out without her help, Mercedes figured.
Reaching the offices, Mercedes snatched up the phone and dialled.
"Oh thank god," she said as the call connected. "We're at William McKinley High School... we're severely injured and six of us are dead—"
"Stay where you are, help is on the way."
Five minutes later, they were in ambulances, sirens blaring.
TGCG
After the night they'd just had, the teens were not in the mood to be separated for any length of time—even with cause—so rather than argue, the hospital put them all into one private room and examined them to see what they needed in terms of surgery. It then took an entire team of doctors and nurses to convince the teens to let Finn, Rachel and Quinn go to surgery.
"What if he doesn't make it?" Kurt said, rocking back and forth, the bed sheets wrinkling as he moved.
"Don't think like that," Artie said.
"I can't help it," Kurt said.
"Well, try not to," Mercedes said. "They didn't seem too worried about them—concerned, sure. But I don't think it was anything life threatening..."
Rachel came back within two hours, two pads of gauze taped over her sockets.
"You okay?" Mercedes said.
"Yeah... they just took proper care of it and gave me shots against infection," Rachel said.
Another hour passed before Finn was back, but he was still sleeping off the anaesthetic. His leg was all bandaged up, having been amputated from about two inches above where it had been blown to bits.
Another hour passed as they waited.
"Is Quinn back?" Rachel said.
"No," Artie said, pressing the button for the nurse. A perky brunette came in, swallowing as she saw the determined gazes of four worried teens. Artie cut to the point. "Where's Quinn?"
"Um... she's still in surgery. Leaving the knife in probably saved her life—there was almost no blood loss to deal with until the knife was removed. Whilst Quinn is fine, the doctors are concerned, because she almost drowned in her blood. She'll be back when they're confident she won't have any issues after she comes back."
TGCG
None of them would sleep before Quinn came back, with the end result that they'd had maybe an hour of sleep when their parents turned up.
Rachel's dads turned up first, heading straight for their little girl. Quinn looked wistful as they checked Rachel over and made sure that she was fine.
"I'm... fine," Rachel said.
Quinn bit her lip. If no one else could tell, she could: Rachel was not as fine as she claimed.
Rachel's dads then turned to Quinn, who was as good as their own daughter now. "And how are you, Quinn?"
Kurt, Mercedes and Artie couldn't watch the unfolding scene—Quinn answered everything with nods, shakes, head tilts and shrugging, none of which said what she wanted it to and five minutes later, she rolled over in bed and started crying.
Artie's parents came next. Perhaps because their son had not been harmed, they were much calmer.
"Are you okay?"
Artie was sure he'd be sick of hearing that question before all the parents were here. "Yeah," he said.
Further conversation proved a failure, as his parents didn't want to discuss the events, yet didn't know what else to speak of.
Mercedes' parents were almost immediately followed by Finn's mother, who almost fainted as she saw what remained of Finn's leg.
The Berrys helped her to a seat and she squeezed Finn's hand.
"It's going to be okay," Finn said, sitting up and giving his mother a hug. "I'm fine, really. I'm just lucky to be alive." And no worse off than Faberry, his mind added.
"WHEN YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT PROCEDURE—WHY SHOULD I?"
Everyone exchanged looks and strained to hear the reply.
"OH, SO IT'S COMMON PROCEDURE TO NOTIFY THE PARENTS TEN FUCKING HOURS AFTER THEIR CHILDREN ARE BROUGHT INTO THE HOSPITAL? FUCK THAT FOR A JOKE!"
"Kurt, methinks your dad is pissed off," Finn said.
"What was your first clue?" Rachel said.
"YOU'D BETTER FUCKING HOPE THAT I DON'T SUE THIS PLACE! TAKE ME TO MY SON RIGHT NOW!"
Less than a minute later, Burt Hummel came through the doors, not stopping until he'd snatched Kurt up into a massive hug.
"Uh, dad, not that I mind you being all protective, but you do tell me that swearing is bad."
Burt released his son, looking sheepish. "You heard that?"
"People in Australia were woken up by that," Rachel said.
Burt nodded and hugged Kurt again. "I'm glad you're safe."
TGCG
Rachel snuggled into Quinn—her dads had helped her into Quinn's bed so they could snuggle—and looked towards the door.
The others followed her gaze, seeing three police officers.
"Um, sir... we're going to have to ask you to leave the hospital because of your disruption," one said to Burt.
"Very well," Burt said. "I'll just head to my lawyer and instigate a lawsuit against this hospital and the police force for not informing me of my son's being in hospital."
"Mind if we join it?" Rachel's dad said. "From what I've heard, the kids got here at ten pm last night. We didn't hear anything until eight am today."
"And us," the Joneses said.
"Count us in," the Abrams said.
"I'll certainly support you all," Mrs Hudson said. "Please accept my apologies; I thought you all were being notified last night."
The officers exchanged looks.
"Well... um... maybe you don't have to leave. Adam, talk to the hospital administration."
Adam left and the officers looked around. "Artie Abrams? Rachel Berry? Quinn Fabray? Finn Hudson? Kurt Hummel? Mercedes Jones? We have reviewed the scene and have a good idea of what happened, however, we'd like to hear from you what happened for the official record. Obviously this was a traumatic experience, so we will not separate you, however, if you wish to interject a point, just raise your hand."
"I suppose it all started when Mr Schuester—the Glee Club director—said he wanted to reward us with a sleepover," Rachel said. "We got all the necessary permissions and headed over to the school. Schuester was going to be picking up pizzas, so we all got there before him. He'd..." Rachel broke down into tears.
"He'd given Puck—Noah Puckerman—the keys so we could get in," Kurt said. "We were all there—us six, and Brittany, Santana Lopez, Puck, Mike Chang, Matt Rutherford and Tina Cohen-Chang."
With many pauses and someone picking up the story, they made it through the six deaths of their friends before falling silent.
"I see. What happened then?"
"He changed," Rachel said. Her voice was again devoid of all emotion. "He said that our crimes were not deserving of death, and he made me bring Quinn up to the stage. Quinn... told us about how she caused Lily Cranston's kidnapping and..."
Rachel faltered and Artie picked up the thread.
"He wanted Rachel—"
"Artie, shut up!" Rachel said. "I have... this is..."
Quinn squeezed Rachel's hand and they waited for Rachel to gain enough composure.
"He told me... I had to... hurt Quinn..."
Rachel broke down completely then and Quinn held her close.
"Go on, Artie," Finn said quietly.
"Rachel preferred death... but Quinn told her to do it," Artie said. "Then he had Quinn remove Rachel's eyes. We'd had enough, so when he came down to deal with me, Kurt attacked him as I drew him away."
Mercedes finished up the story, unsure how to tell them who it had been.
"Did you find out the identity of this man?"
"Yeah," Finn said. "We found the drivers' license. It was Schuester. For whatever fucking reason, he snapped."
TGCG
The interview had concluded, the officers going off to investigate William Schuester's house. Entering the house, it became apparent this was the man they were looking for: the twelve Gleeks were wallpapered around the rooms, many with signs of having been attacked with darts or knives—in particular, the pictures of Quinn and Rachel were disfigured in the same manner the actual girls had been.
Further investigation pulled up a collection of notebooks, and preliminary looks at them indicated that whatever else he may have been, William Schuester was—and had been since pre-teen years—certifiable, on a one man mission to get revenge against people who had done wrong. The cops took a couple of computers away as well and down at the station, began to piece together what had driven this man.
TGCG
Three weeks later found the six teens sitting in Rachel's bedroom.
Finn was sitting on Rachel's bed, a flushed face showing the effort it had taken. Whilst he could more or less move about without assistance, he was still learning what ways were the best. Kurt had learned not to hover too much and was leaning against one of the bed legs.
Rachel and Quinn sat near the top of the bed, holding hands. Physical contact had increased between the two, because it was all they had to tell Rachel she wasn't alone. When one added that to the fact that Rachel would only accept guidance from Quinn, the fact that the two hadn't gone to the bathroom separately since they were released lost all amusement.
"So... how's everyone doing?" Mercedes said, leaning against the door.
"Mom barely lets me go anywhere," Artie said. "Not that I want to, really, unless I'm with you guys."
"Same here," Finn said. "Mom should go back to work; it's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon."
Kurt kissed Finn's forehead, trying to soothe the bitter tone and Finn sighed, relaxing. "It's hard on her too, I know. Things are really different and I'm going to need help for a long time. But I need to learn things myself, learn to be independent. I don't want to be a useless lump forever."
"I'm left alone," Rachel said. "Course, the fact that I got pissed off, kicked out at them and nearly fell down the stairs had a lot to do with that. I'm smart enough to know how to ask for help if I need it. I don't need everyone around me. And besides, I have Quinn to guide me."
Quinn could only nod, squeezing Rachel's hand as if to say "Of course."
"I guess I'm lucky, in that sense." Kurt said, giving a sad smile. "My dad knows that if I need anything, I'll tell him, so he's been acting just like he did before this whole debacle."
Kurt felt a tap on his shoulder and took Quinn's netbook from her. "And Quinn says, 'I don't get bothered much either, but then why would I?'"
There was a call from downstairs. "Rachel?"
"Yes?"
"The police are here. Is Finn up to coming downstairs?"
"I'd prefer not to have to," Finn called back.
Within minutes, the two officers that had taken their statements were in the room, looking at them.
"It was thought you would want to know what drove William Schuester to this."
The teens shrugged; three weeks had brought them to a point where it would be nice to know, but they had better things to worry about.
"It appears that as a child, William was bullied and set upon by others and he was powerless to do anything. As one might expect, he took some refuge in childish fantasies of a powerful being who would protect him, give the bullies their comeuppance," one officer said. "At some point, he gained the idea that he could try being this powerful person and apparently, he met with much success—the little revenges that he wanted were successful, and he was able to face the bullies, knowing that whatever they did, he'd just do back but they wouldn't know.
"The bullies soon lost interest, and his life went on. He had no need for the Punisher. Until one day, when he was nineteen, an aunt swindled his mother out of a sizeable amount of money. He appears to have then decided that people did not need to wrong him, they just needed to do wrong for him to intervene and mete out a punishment. We've been able to sort out a lot of things that were very puzzling. As to why he sought you out, there is no clear reason, apart from the guess that he was interacting with you, and it was second nature to see if you were 'deserving' of punishment."
The teens exchanged glances and shrugged again.
"Thanks for telling us," Artie said, watching the officers leave.
Finn reached out for his crutches. "I don't want to be in here anymore. Let's go for a walk."
TGCG
Entering Breadsticks, Mercedes checked the time, walking over to the booth where Artie waited, picking at a breadstick.
"Hey, Artie," she said, squeezing his hand.
"Hey, Mercedes," he said. "How're things?"
"Well enough, I suppose. And you?"
"I don't have nightmares anymore."
Mercedes nodded, leaning back in her seat. "I'm glad to hear that."
They lapsed into comfortable silence until they saw Kurt and Finn through the windows.
The two boys entered the restaurant, speaking to the welcoming waitress for a brief moment before making their way over to where Artie and Mercedes were. Mercedes stood and hugged Kurt tight.
"Hey, Mercedes," Kurt said, smiling at her.
"Hey, Kurt," she said, retaking her seat. Kurt grinned and sat beside her before she could say anything, which left the first seat for Finn—it might bother Finn to be getting up when Mercedes and Kurt wanted out, but their experience told them it was the easiest seat for Finn.
"You going to eat that?" Finn said, grabbing the breadstick and biting into it.
"...not anymore, no," Artie said, sarcasm laced through every word.
"Good, because I'm hungry."
"Well, you're obviously fine," Mercedes said dryly.
"Dahlink, how could you think I—" Finn closed his eyes, muttering under his breath.
"Phantom pain?" Artie said.
"Yeah," Finn said after opening his eyes. "It's... better than it was."
Kurt placed a hand on Finn's, squeezing gently.
"It's been difficult these past few months, using the prosthetic, dealing with everything and all, but... we've gotten through it, and things are almost starting to get back to normal," he said with a small smile.
"Oh, I bet," Mercedes said with an evil grin.
"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement," Kurt said.
"Huh?" Finn said, oblivious as usual.
Kurt leaned over and whispered, "She means sex-wise, lover-boy."
"Oh! I knew that!"
"Sure, sure," Artie said, smirking.
The group grew quiet as Rachel and Quinn came in, the girls seating themselves with ease.
"You didn't bring Kate?" Kurt said, surprised. In the past twelve months, Quinn and Rachel were never seen anywhere without Quinn's netbook—which had in the last fortnight been upgraded with the best text to speech program on the market—and Rachel's guide dog, Kate.
"No, I left her at home," Rachel said. "It didn't feel right to bring her. Quinn's better than a guide dog, anyway."
Quinn tapped on the netbook.
"You realise, love, that I'm rolling my eyes now, don't you?"
Everyone bar Rachel jumped at the deep male voice.
"Uh, Quinn, don't you have any female voices for that thing?" Artie said.
Quinn smirked and tapped a few buttons. "Of course, however I wanted to freak you all out."
"You succeeded," Finn said.
"You should have seen Rachel when I first tried it on her. She jumped like six feet."
"Oh, shut up," Rachel said.
There was a brief silence, until the table worked out that this was playful banter and wasn't going to cause a crying fit.
The waitress came up, taking their orders and when she was gone, everyone waited for someone to speak up.
"It's been a year," Kurt said at last. "It hasn't been easy, but we've stuck together and I think we always will. You know... it seems stupid to say it now, but when we were in the hospital... I worried that we were going to fall apart, that this would come between us."
"Never," Quinn said. "Oh, there have been difficult times for Rachel and I—mostly guilt—but our relationship is stronger now."
"Good," Kurt said. "As Quinn just said, it didn't work. We grew closer, relied on each other to get through this..." He bit his lip, smiling at everyone.
"He's smiling, isn't he?" Rachel said. "It's that adorably geeky smile that would give me diabetes if I could see it, right?"
"I'm afraid so," Mercedes said. "Guess I won't be having dessert."
"Anyway, as I was saying," Kurt said, amused tolerance in his tone, "I'd like to think we've done well."
"Hear, hear," Finn said.
"Anyway... I'd like to propose a toast," Kurt said. "To love and friendship."
"To love and friendship," the others echoed, before taking a sip of their drinks.
A quiet tapping was heard, and they waited for Quinn to finish—Rachel somewhat more patiently than the others.
"We have grown closer, as Kurt said. But we lost much—hopes, dreams and friends—to achieve that closeness. And though we should no doubt be grateful for what we have, what we share... our friends. Brittany. Mike. Santana. Puck. Tina. Matt. Never forget them."
Postscript: So, did you catch the reference to Dianna's Twitter account?