In Too Deep
Summary: In April of 1912, a ship takes off to New York City with several passangers preparing for the remarkable journey. Though strangers at first, they all grow very familiar with one another, but nothing can save them from what's about to happen.
Rated: M: There is not much sexual content, though I am still deciding as to whether or not small doses will be included, but in the last ten-ish chapters, there's a lot of violence and disturbing images that perhaps will be planted in your brains. For now, though, it is safe, I just want it there for the warning of what's to come.
Pairings: The main pairing is Finn/Rachel, though quite a bit at the beginning is only implications. Also: Jesse/Rachel, mentions of Puck/Rachel, Puck/Quinn, Kurt/Mercedes friendship, Will/Emma, Tina/Artie, implied Brittany/Santana
A/N: I bet you all will soon [if not already] discover what I am basically ripping off here. I don't where this inspiration came to mind. I suppose from the song "Requiem for a Dream". What I truly don't know, or even have a guess about, is why Glee. Of course, there is a variety of characters to work with, and oceans full (no pun intended) of pairings to add to the drama. Either way, I hope you all enjoy. Reviews are greatly appeciated.
In Too Deep - Chapter 1
Rachel Berry belonged to an elite family, both of her dads bringing her in the world to be a part of their fortune. She was their star, hence the reason she was determined to be famous - the entire purpose of them traveling to a different country. They were welcomed onto the ship with open arms, her fathers both greeting the crew as if they had been friends for ages; perhaps they had been. She allowed herself to get caught up in all of the anxious members awaiting their arrival. First class had quickly become one of her most favored terms.
As they were led to their rooms, Rachel grew more excited by the second, observing every aspect of the ship with wide eyes. Her heart raced as they stopped outside two bedrooms, one her very own.
A gentle hand pressed against her shoulder. "Sweetheart," her father explained, "we will be right next door if you need anything."
She was perfectly capable of being on her own, though at times she felt a bit lonely, but she wanted to be in this sort of environment. "Alright," she agreed with a nod, locking her door behind her. It took three men to fit all of the luggage she alone had brought along, but she found it entirely necessary for such a trip. Later, she intended to explore the large ship, embracing her home for the next few days.
Rachel collapsed onto the soft bed, outstretching her arms to both ends and closing her eyes. She imagined herself home, though she would not be in her home any longer; she imagined her new home - a large apartment, spacious and inviting for her family to take comfort in. It was near the city, which excited her further.
Not a moment later, she vaulted out of the room, toward the public enclosure of the ship. An array of people flooded the upper deck. It was difficult for movement to be allowed, but she politely muttered, "Excuse me," and moved along. Surely, her fathers would be worrying about her if she stayed out too long, but she was enchanted by the exterior of the vessel. Though young, Rachel was taken extremely seriously among the crew of the ship, for they were dazed by the salary of both of her parents. In fact, she was treated as royalty by most.
"Ms. Berry," a voice asked behind her.
Rachel spun around to see a man with dark skin leaning against a wall she had just elapsed. The man was smiling gratefully. "Hello," she stammered, searching the surrounding areas before stepping toward him.
"Let me just say, it is an honor to have you aboard my ship." Ah, so he was the proprietor of the vehicle.
"Thank you, Mr. Figgins." She had been introduced to the man when first boarding as they preceded to their rooms. With a curt nod, she was once again on her exploration of the boat, turning every which way in order to find a peaceful section to escape. A small wooden bench was placed toward the railing of the north end, down a few flights of stairs, alone. She observed the lack of crowds surrounding it, smirking to herself before taking a seat.
Though uncomfortable after just minutes, the bench proved worthy of a perfect place to linger during the afternoons - exactly what Rachel was searching for. She enclosed her eyelids and allowed to sound of ocean water against the large metal to relax her senses.
Finn Hudson worried deeply for his mother. Ever since his father had passed away, she had been desperately inquiring an escape route. Her decision finally came to bringing herself and her son overseas, to a new home. "Perhaps the city," she had suggested to him, listing the possibilities for locations.
He, of course, refused to deny his mother an opportunity to move on, therefore, he simply agreed, and fought to climb aboard the next ship departing their hometown. As a caring son, he did everything in his power to make sure it sufficed her needs.
As they boarded, his mother, Carol, continuously glanced anxiously at her son. He stood tall, confident, as they followed the multitude of people inside. A man stood among a few fortunately dressed men, shaking the hands of the others who boarded. He stared at Finn, taking in his figure as well as his mother's.
"Welcome aboard," the man said with an Indian accent. He outstretched a hand to Finn, who took it cautiously.
It was odd to see him, or at least it was in his mind, considering he had spent so much time with other large projects. Then again, the first departure of your own ship would be rather enticing. One of the men in a tuxedo schlepped Mrs. Hudson's suitcases and guided them toward the lower deck, where small rooms were placed.
On the way, they proceeded beyond the first class dorms, where only the most elite and the most prosperous lounged. If Finn and Carol had inherited more from his father, perhaps they would have been able to afford such quarters, but the Hudson family had never been overly wealthy to begin with.
"Mother," he murmured once settled.
She gazed up at her son, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Yes, Finn?"
"I'm going to roam around. I'll meet you in time for dinner." He quickly hugged her, knowing it would put her mind at ease for a while, before closing the door as silently as it would allow.
The other faces blurred by, a flurry of strangers who grudgingly moved out of the way for the tall man. All he truly wanted was a relaxing seat where no one would disturb him in his reveries. Through all of the people, he did not believe such a location existed, but he was determined to uncover a hiding place to think.
Beyond all of the rooms and the bar, Finn found himself at the northern end of the ship, where it seemed only wood floors and off-white railing were the only features in sight, was a bench made of the same material as the ground. It looked perfect, no sound, no people walking by; simply peace and quiet. Before he even sat down, he found his eyes were shut. He leaned his head again the back, angling it toward the clouding sky. What a beautiful place to lie, he thought to himself, sighing heavily.
He heard footsteps, small heeled shoes, appear behind the bench. "I'm sorry," a female voice sputtered politely, "but do you mind if I sit here? I was actually just returning from my room-"
Finn snapped his eyes open to gaze at the petite brunette staring at him. "Of course," he allowed, "I didn't mean to take it from you, I just needed a place to sit." He found himself drawn to her, to her unique features, the way she walked, as well as the way she dressed.
She, too, was fixed on his features, sitting on the parallel side of the bench. "My name is Rachel," she introduced, though Finn had not asked for that detail - it was not that he did not want to know, but he expected her to omit his existence. "Rachel Berry."
Of course the girl belonged to the exclusive Berry family. They had been the talk of the town for centuries now, always showing their pride and greed in front of those in poverty. He didn't find her to have the matching qualities of her ancestors, though she was obviously just as rich. "Finn Hudson," he casually replied. "I assume you are staying in the first class rooms, so why are you here?"
Rachel answered, "I needed time to myself." The tone of her voice was slightly offended by the question, though she knew in her heart the gentleman didn't mean anything by it. "Once we arrive in New York, I intend to become very famous. It's been a dream of mine since I was very little. On the subject, why are you traveling to America?"
Finn pondered the same thing himself. "My father recently… died," he admitted. "My mother has been broken ever since, and I found this the perfect chance to escape the memories, to allow her to have peace of mind for a change."
The smile that spread across her face was almost frightening it was so bright. "That is awfully kind of you," she informed him, turning her head to the side to allow a better view. "I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you."
"No," Finn argued quickly. "No, of course not. I actually stole your bench, so I suppose if one of us were to be disturbing the other, it would be me to you." He blushed, moving his head to stare at the ground before chuckling of embarrassment.
Rachel, too, released a small laugh, warm and comforting. She leaned her head back so her hair brushed against Finn's shoulder; he did not flinch nor push it away, instead finding complacency in the action. Honestly, he rather liked Rachel, though she did seem to enjoy her opulence more than most.
Eventually, the ship began to pull away from the dock, swiftly moving along the water. The pair closed their eyes and allowed the sound to drown them. The silence was moving. Finn finally allowed himself to get comfortable, barely touching Rachel still, but he was alright with the feeling. He felt at home, even though he no longer knew where that was. He knew that Rachel was something special, something different - a change of pace for him. Deep in his heart, he knew he would grow to love her in the course of a few days.
Quinn Fabray held her fist to her stomach, warm tears sliding down her rosy cheeks. As she lingered near the south end of the ship, she watched the faces waving goodbye to them as they departed from the dock, felicitous that she was no longer standing among them.
A thought crossed her mind: were her parents worried about her? Ever since she had found out that after a drunken late night out, she was pregnant, her father had wanted nothing to do with her, wishing she was not his precious daughter - claiming she was a stranger to him. Her mother said nothing, simply shedding a tear or two as she walked out the door. It seemed no one accepted her anymore, that she was invisible or evil.
"I knew you would be here," a deep voice mused behind her. It went by unrecognized at first sound, but Quinn knew it was someone she had been acquainted with in the past. "When I heard you would be aboard, I immediately jumped at the thought of seeing you again."
She cocked a blonde eyebrow, still hesitant to respond. She abruptly turned around to face her guest, gasping at the sight of him. "You," she hissed darkly. "What do you want from me? Can't you see you've done enough?"
Both of the gazes fell to her stomach, slightly bulging from beneath her clothes. The man blinked sparsely, sucking in a deep breath. "A-are you sure it was me?" he stammered. His breath grew uneven, near hyperventilation. "Will you keep it? Our child?"
"No," Quinn replied quietly. She bit her lip to hold fresh tears back. "I intend to give it away, to forget anything ever happened between us. I don't even know you."
He nodded complacently. "Ms. Fabray," he began, "as of five months ago, we met by accident, we spent an indecent amount of time together under invalid circumstances. Fate brought us here-"
"No," Quinn repeated with the same distaste in her voice. "You brought yourself here because of me. One night or one thousand nights together, I know your game, and I know you only came back for more." A single tear escaped the corner of her eye. The piercing April breeze turned it to ice within a matter of seconds.
"Let me begin again. I will start by saying my name is Noah Puckerman. Perhaps we did meet long ago, perhaps you are suffering the consequences of our intoxication, but we should allow a new start. I want to help you, Quinn, I honestly do."
Quinn considered his declaration for a moment, but chose not to conceive the words. She awkwardly stepped forward, brushing by him before Noah had a chance to catch her arm, to bring her back, to explain his reasoning as to why he chose her; because Quinn knew with all of her heart that he was not worthy of her love, that he would misuse it or take her for granted, and most of all that he would not change who he was.
With every ounce of her heart, she wanted to believe he would be there for her, he would support her, but she knew him better than that, even after one night with him, she knew better. Though she had never known Noah "Puck" Puckerman until that fateful night, she knew who he was; essentially, a womanizer, one who always got his way. He got his way with Quinn, too, and now she was faced with the quandary while no evidence graced the infamous Puck. Oh, how she hated his every being, yet, somehow, with part of him inside of her, she felt a strange passion yearning to be with him. How was it possible? Better yet, how would he feel knowing she did have minuscule feelings toward him.
After a diminutive moment of thought, Quinn retreated to her room, sprawling across the king-sized bed - one she had purchased with her parents' money in which she had stolen to escape. She wondered every second that she was not thinking about Puck or her unborn child if they were searching for her. At the very least, she prayed that her mother was.
Unfortunately, though it stung, Quinn knew for a fact that her mother was following her father, that she was eating dinner with him at the very moment, then she would ask about contacting her older sister - never once would her own name form on her mother's lips nor would it cross her mind. Never again.
Mercedes Jones was from a lower class family, though they were never poor, just treated as if it were true. It was no question that the abuse was due to her skin color, darker than anyone else she had ever met, but that did not stop her from searching for a finer lifestyle. Precisely why she had her father had managed to board the next ship departing from the dock. It was a relief to Mercedes to see the Indian man greeting them, knowing he surely empathized with her at one time or another.
As the dock disappeared out of view, Mercedes was laying on a cot, resting her head on a pillow. She was afraid to wander to the upper deck in fear of growing seasick. After all, this was her first time on a boat of any kind. She had heard stories of the gruesome queasiness, and did everything she could not to think about it.
Though she was spontaneous and outgoing at heart, Mercedes was afraid to be seen surrounded by all of the judging faces of the higher power classmen. The Berry family was most intimidating of all, their money being the one thing keeping her locked in her room. She had seen the young girl belonging to the Berry men, hearing rumors of her selfishness and vexatious optimism. Sickening, Mercedes thought to herself. She could not even imagine being as spoiled as Rachel Berry; of course, the first class rooms sounded delightful, but it was not in her nature to beg and plead to lodge in such a higher quality suite.
"Mercedes?" Her father peered his head into the door. He was the only one granted access for palpable reasons. "They are serving dinner above deck if you would like to join me. I wasn't sure if you would be hungry after the long day or not."
She leapt out of the uncomfortable bed, joining her father's side. They exited the room and climbed up three flights of stairs, passing through multiple hallways to arrive in a bar, with numerous large tables in different locations. Two slips of paper reading Jones greeted them at the furthest table from the front. Beside Mercedes, she observed one tag reading Hummel. The name sounded strangely familiar, but she did not get outside enough to know people by name.
A voice sounded from behind her. "Here, Kurt," the deep voice veered, pointing to the chair beside her.
A boy sat down, dressed as if he belonged in first class. His chestnut hair was slicked back in a formal fashion, and his coat looked as if it should have been owned by a woman. Mercedes, though, was not one to judge. She simply nodded to the boy when he glanced at her from the side. "Jones, huh?" His voice did not possess the deepness of his father's - or so she assumed it was his father - and instead had a slight feminine tone to it. "I believe I am familiar with your father. Does he work in town?"
"Yes," Mercedes confirmed in a small voice. She was taken aback by the fact that this boy, who obviously was spawn to a somewhat rich family, was acknowledging her politely. "He works on teeth, his own business."
He nodded with a friendly smile. "Yes, I believe I have been there before. Never seen you around, though. I think I would have remembered such a face."
Mercedes blushed, catching her father's eye for a moment. "I'm Mercedes," she introduced, returning the smile.
"Kurt." He reached out his hand to shake hers.
She was impressed by Kurt's stories of his travels and of his entire lifestyle. He had such a fascinating life to counteract her own tedious schedule. She also learned he was traveling to New York in the hopes of pursuing a career in fashion, which surprised her slightly, but she then scrutinized his wardrobe; it was a wonder as to why she had not guessed at first glance.
"So," Kurt asked, "what are your arrangements for when we arrive in America?"
A great, simple question, one everyone on the ship should ask their new acquaintances, but she did not know the answer. Her father woke up one morning and said to her, "We should leave, travel to New York." She quickly agreed, and three days later, they were boarding the vessel with nine suitcases. "I'm not sure yet," she admitted. "I suppose it is just to get away from our life here. The daily routine tends to grow a bit repetitive after so many years."
Kurt simply nodded graciously, respecting her words. "So," he gushed, changing the subject quickly, "do you know all of the attendees, or shall I run over everyone?"
Mercedes leaned closer to him. "It would be quite helpful to run them over," she proposed.
"Alright," Kurt began, "First, I'm sure you know the Berry family. Rachel Berry is sixteen, spoiled, and, unfortunately, the richest family on board. Rumor has it, she only came aboard because she dropped out of her elite school to go to New York for the fame. Apparently, she's very talented, but also rather annoying, according to my sources. Beside her is Jesse St. James. It seems as if he would know her, but he doesn't. I'm sure he wants to; they have so much in common. He, too, intends to become famous, though he did finish school. He traveled with a family friend, Shelby Corcoran. She, apparently, is close with the Berry family, though no one actually knows why.
"At the table beside them, that would be Finn and Carol Hudson. Her husband recently died, just like my mother. Our families briefly met when we first entered the ship; I'm proud to declare how much I have in common with the boy. Perhaps we could be friends. Joining them at the table are the Abrams. Their son, Artie, had an accident and is now paralyzed from the waist down. They are going to New York to meet with one of the world's greatest doctors, apparently, though I doubt there is much they can do at this point. The final family seated at their table is the Cohen-Chang family. They migrated to Europe from Asia, but were unhappy with the results of their arrival, immediately discussing taking off for America.
"The table beside ours features Sue Sylvester, who has complete authority over those seated with her, as if they're all her slaves. She's manipulative and evil, bribing Mr. Figgins to keep her job aboard the ship. We're not quite sure what she does, but it's obviously exclusive. Her most prized possession is Quinn Fabray, though I've heard rumors that she is here alone because she is having a child. Another rumor is that it belongs to the shaved head boy, Noah Puckerman. He has reputation of all of the girls he has been with, which makes the rumor about Quinn more believable. Beside him sits Santana Lopez, who is only allowed here because of Ms. Sylvester. Santana's pet is Brittany, the blonde. No one knows much about her life, aside from the fact that she is not at all bright. Finally, there are two other boys among them, Matthew and Michael. I believe they just follow the posse for show."
Mercedes widened her eyes at the gorgeous set of people. Ms. Sylvester looked up from the table, catching the eye of the girl, a frightening glare spreading to her eyes. She immediately returned her gaze to Kurt, who felt empathy for the scare.
"Ah, yes," he continued, "Sue Sylvester has the tendency to be quite intimidating, even to those she follows closely."
Nodding curtly, Mercedes turned to observe the overseas staff that was currently entering the dining room, all following behind Mr. Figgins, who took a seat at the table consisting of the Berry family, the St. James boy, and Shelby Corcoran. The rest of the employees began to serve the meal, beginning with Sue's table. "Do you happen to know any of the staff?" she questioned, watching them formally move back and forth between tables.
Kurt pursed his lips. "The tall man with the curly hair, that would be Will Schuester. He's probably the closest employee to Figgins, the reason why his wife is allowed to stay in the first class rooms at no charge. She, like Sylvester, is very intimidating. The petite woman staying close to Will is Emma Pillsbury. Last I heard, the two were having an affair. Terri Schuester, Will's wife, has yet to discover the fiasco. The heavyset man is Ken Tanaka, a former athlete, though it is hard to believe. Those are the only ones I know well enough to name."
Mercedes was fascinated by the alignment of people surrounding her, amazed by the different worlds they came from, all colliding into one for four days total. "How do you know so much?" she asked, nibbling at the food set before her.
Kurt politely chewed his food before replying with, "Along with knowing many of the guests aboard, I also have a few sources to fill me in on the gossip. Most of them remain in close proximity of the Berry family, among others, because I don't have much time to spend around the upper classmen."
"Would you mind introducing me to some of them?" she proposed.
"I would be honored to," Kurt agreed, sending her a famous white smile.
The dinner ended all too quickly. The night was still young, but not young enough for the employees. Rachel ran into a rushed Will Schuester and Emma Pillsbury as they floundered to exit the dining hall. Where they were going, she hadn't the slightest idea, but they were moving rapidly in order to get there.
As she scurried toward the north end of the ship once again, she noticed to bodies all too close to one another leaning against the railing. The masculine one seemed to be pushing down on the smaller body. Rachel rolled her eyes, hearing the girl shriek - it was hard to determine if it was out of delight or annoyance, but they hardly moved. As she drew closer, the boy turned to look at her.
He nodded his head. "Hey," he greeted, though Rachel moved on, ignoring the slightly flirtatious gesture.
She found Finn parked on the bench, gazing out into the water dreamily. It was hard to see amongst the darkness, but his eyes remained fixed on the black sea. "Hello, Finn," she whispered, sitting beside him. "How was dinner?"
His eyes met hers; he noticed the puffiness beneath her dark eyes, as if she had been crying. "Are you alright?" he asked, adjusting his position.
Before she could answer, a voice interrupted them. "Mind if we sit here?" Rachel noticed it was the couple she had seen just moments ago. He stopped to study Finn. "Hey, you're the Hudson boy, right? Noah Puckerman. I believe my mother was friends with yours. Carol, isn't it?" Finn shook his hand casually, glancing at Rachel. "Well, well, if it isn't Rachel Berry. I feel like I already know you, what with everything I've heard of your family," he sneered.
Rachel stiffened her back, glancing at the blonde beside him. She ignored his hand, which quickly moved away. "And you are you?" she asked the girl, studying her features carefully.
"Quinn Fabray," she replied quietly. Quinn did not make eye contact with either Finn nor Rachel. Instead, she, too, gazed upon the flowing water, shaking off Noah's arm. He smirked, sitting on the bench beside her.
Finn used his peripheral vision to communicate with Rachel. He remembered their conversation prior to the meal, hearing about Rachel's dreams and her past. Though his voice was scarce during that time, he was able to pipe in a few comments about himself. Rachel was rather full of herself, but he thought her intentions were good, that she was not embracing the family fortune the way her relatives did. No, she was much kinder. Unfortunately, now, he could not speak to her with the same energy. His mind was blank, and he felt awkward with the pair murmuring behind them. He assumed by Rachel's face and position that she felt the same.
One thing he did know about Rachel Berry was that she was special. He would never forget her, even after arriving in New York, climbing off the ship, and separating into the large city. She would forever leave a mark on his imperfect life, and he knew that some day, he would find her. The strong connection he felt to her would never be lost. It would hold them close. At that moment, he wondered if she felt the same.
That's when a voice rang behind him, a voice disrupting his fantasies about Rachel. "There you are, Rachel." Her head snapped up, and a smile graced her poised features. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
Quickly, every image of himself beside her disappeared.
A/N: I would also like to say I am deeply sorry for not going into more detail on some of the characters featured. Yes, they will still have roles, but only minor ones. I am referring to Artie, Tina, Brittany, Santana, Mike, Matt, Sue, Will, Emma, Ken, and Shelby. Actually, Ken doesn't really have a role, he was just there because, yes, he does exist. Another note, sorry if this was extremely long and tedious. I had to give you all an understanding of my main focuses, and it took quite a bit, so relax, and following chapters will be more reasonable lengths.
