Post apocalyptic. Quinn and Rachel are far apart, trying to survive in a wrecked world where all the rules are changed. No zombie or vampires, just humanity at his worst. Faberry later on.
General warnings: it's an angst/hurt and comfort fic so I think you know what you're getting yourself into but just to be safe I'll warn you about possible deaths (not main characters...), violence references and drug use. A particular warning about Rachel: she will show up but later on, the main character here is Quinn and since at the beginning of the story they are far apart... well, you might have to wait a little to see them together, that's it, but she will show up, don't worry. Final warning about me: I've been writing fanfiction for a very long time but this is my first English attempt. Feel free to point me out when I make a mistake. Synonymous suggestion are good too ;)
Also, reviews are appreciated.
BORN AGAIN
It all started with earthquakes.
Nothing to worry about at first, it was San Francisco after all, and news from all over the world didn't seem to be important back then, they were at the bottom of the news, just as reminder that earthquakes where really something normal, that happened everywhere: Japan, Italy, south Africa…
Then it hit again, a second time: New York. And a third, a fourth, and countless more.
The sun was hitting hard on her. She was thirsty, tired, and all she could think about was finding some place dark and cold to rest. The road in front of her seemed endless and the heat made it tremble in the air, making her see things that weren't really there.
I need a hat!
She had left the last town four days before. Like many other she visited before there wasn't much left. Most of the buildings were collapsed, some burned, some were still up but didn't look secure enough for her to go in. There were a bunch of houses left, just outside town, and she hoped she could find there something useful or at least eatable, but when she was closer she saw that there were already inhabited so she run away before they could spot her.
She had learned the hard way that it wasn't safe, in these days, trusting the others.
I should sit. For a moment.
No way Quinn, keep going!
She had no idea where the hell she was in the continent. There were even continents anymore? Maybe not. Maybe the Earth had another shape right now. Maybe she was in Europe or Japan or Canada or… whatever. She smiled. She always wanted to go to Canada, God knows why.
I like it. Canada. I like it here.
Her lips were cracked and they hurt a little bit, like the rest of her body: her legs, her back, her neck. She would have killed for a bed right now, and the chances were someone might really die before she had the chance to rest in a proper place.
Note to yourself Quinn Fabray: always have extra spare water in your backpack! Or wine. Or beer. Beer works too.
In the last months she learned a lot of things in order to survive but still she knew she kept on making mistakes over and over again, trusting the wrong people, leaving something vital behind, or just taking the wrong road. Surviving wasn't a joke or a reality show, out there it was real and it didn't matter how much she tried her best, she had realized long ago that she wasn't fit for that world. She should have died like the others. Their death was horrible, and brutal, and unexpected, and scary, yes, but still, far better than the life she was facing right now.
Oh God, I want a pizza so bad!
The thought came into her mind all of a sudden, and it surprised her like it was someone else's. She found herself smiling. Yeah, she could have killed for pizza, and a coke, and ice cream, and the above mentioned bed, of course, and the sight of another living human being.
She tripped and fell down on her knees.
Shit!
She didn't have the strength to say it out loud; just thinking it drained her of her last energies. She just stood there, in the middle of a road, slowly rocking, like a leaf in the wind, unable to even think to stand up.
I must look like an addict. Heroin. Rocking in the wind. Shit.
Her thoughts became blurry and when she realized she was having problems making sense even in her own mind, she knew the end was approaching.
Fine. I should die with a thoughtful thought. Something spectacular. Important. Revealing. Nobody loves… no… everybody loves… no… I once loved… I wish… shit!
Then all went black!
Why am I not dead?
Even before she could open her eyes she knew something was wrong. It was the feeling of something soft under her cheek, and on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and for a second, while her vision focused, all she could see was blue.
I'm underwater?
She rolled on to her side and something pointy hit her.
- Shit!
She got up to a sitting position and realized she was in a blue tent. Next to her there were two backpacks, a pair of gym shoes and another sleeping bag already rolled up.
- Hello sleepy head.
The voice startled her and Quinn drew back immediately. The woman entered and kneeled down in front of her.
- Sorry, I didn't' mean to startle you, I'm… My name is Anya.
The woman looked at her waiting for Quinn to introduce herself but, since Quinn didn't look like talking at all, she shook her head and went on.
- We found you on the street this morning. We, being me, Anya, and my friend, Mal, who's out there checking the perimeter, so to speak. Don't worry about him: he's big, black and silent most of the time, which I guess it 's good since I'm talking pretty much always so, I'd say we're quite a match!
Quinn was trying to catch up but there were too much info and she was still too confused. She could only elaborate simple thing so she tried to start with basic stuff. The woman was wearing a long shirt and a pair of jeans, her hair was up in a loose ponytail and she looked really skinny and really pale. She didn't look like a threat although she clearly talked too much and too fast. She seemed hyperactive, like needs-medical-assistance-to-control-herself hyperactive, but not dangerous
- Thirsty? - The girl took a bottle and offered it to her.
Quinn knew better than to just accept something from a stranger. She did it once, in the past, and it turned out to be a very bad idea. Anya seemed to understand this and placed the bottle near her sleeping bag.
- Whenever you're ready. I'll leave it here. Just… small sips, and try to make it last. We don't have much anymore and we need to find some new supply.
Quinn nodded.
- Care to tell me your name or do I have to keep calling you sleepy head?
- Quinn. Quinn Fabray.
- Nice to meet you Quinn. – Anya smiled.
Somehow Quinn found herself mirroring that gesture. During the last months she had learned to doubt stranger's good intentions, but no matter how hard she tried in that moment, she couldn't remind herself that Anya was a potential deadly enemy. But this probably was just her condition talking. Dehydration, lack of sleep, unnerving and stupid optimism or something like that.
Back on track Fabray. Focus.
- You probably need some time, right? – She didn't wait for an answer – Right, I'm sorry, it's not like I want to invade your personal space I just, you know, it's been a while since we actually met someone else so… Ok, let's try this one: I'm going to go out now, and whenever you're ready you can join us, me and Mal. We're going to have something to eat ok?
She smiled, again (gosh, why the hell is she smiling so much?) then she left leaving Quinn alone in the tent.
Quinn waited a few seconds to be sure Anya was really gone before taking the bottle and smelling the water. Not that she could really detect anything in it with just her nose but she did it anyway, out of conscience, so she could tell herself she was being cautious. She took a first small sip. Water tasted like eggs but it wasn't so strange: water wasn't what it used to be anymore and she had drunk much worse even before the apocalypse.
She looked up and she realized that there was a bright light behind the plastic.
Day. Maybe late in the morning.
Her backpack was lying down next to her sleeping bag. She reached for it to check if everything was still inside: K-way, knife, empty bottle, just a spare t-shirt, sunglasses, what was left of her phone, an old watch, all accounted for. It wasn't much of a survival bag but that's all she had.
She remembered her old house, an apartment on the third floor, the wall she turned into a gigantic painting thanks to her friend Lia, and all the cd, clothes, books, posters, shoes, dishes and glasses, pictures, old toys, stereo and computer, plants, homemade lamps… It took her a couple of years but she finally turned an anonymous house into her home. It was her practical sense hanging from the ceiling with the homemade lamp, and it was her soul stitched with all those photos with her friends.
And now it was all gone: her home, her things, and her old self.
She sighed and got up bracing herself for everything that would wait her outside, were it hungry dinosaurs or just the two regular guys Anya described.