I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.

Alright so this is a weird and confusing story. I wrote it for myself after having a really vivid dream, but my beta and my friend encouraged me to post it.

I already have most of it written, so this story won't take any time away from my other stories. Hope you enjoy!

R&R please.

Chapter 1

She angrily swipes at the tears that cascade from her eyes, one hand still loosely gripping the steering wheel. Her gaze is blurry, but she doesn't care. She doesn't care about anything. She presses her foot down, speeding along the quiet road. Her surroundings are nothing but a colourful blur, houses and trees meshing together as her car flies down the streets of Lima. Rain pounds against the windscreen, the wipers automatically swishing back and forth. She can barely see anything out of the window, but still...she speeds. Her foot can't get any lower now, and neither can her mood. She just wants to get out of here, as far away from this town as she can, and as quickly as she can. She doesn't even see the truck that sideswipes her car.

She groans as she wakes up, pulling the blankets over her head. Her eyes feel as though they don't want to open, and all she wants to do is go back to sleep. She frowns when she hears a muffled argument floating through from another room, she didn't think her parents would be home. They never are. She forces her eyes open and her breath immediately catches in her throat. This isn't her bedroom, she has never seen this place before! She looks around at the pale pink walls and the posters of young men that she doesn't recognise, frowning deeply. Her gaze lands on the other bed in the room. It's empty, but someone has slept in it recently. The blankets lay in a rumpled heap at the bottom of the bed and the pillows are askew. She stumbles out of bed and looks out of the window, not recognising the street that she looks down on. The house she's in sits at the end of a cul-de-sac and she has no idea where she is.

She reaches out to touch the glass, but falters. Looking down at her hand, she notices that it looks different...smaller somehow. She frowns, studying the limb curiously. Her frown deepens and she looks down at her body, wondering where the hell the patterned pajamas had come from. They're definitely not hers, and even the rest of her body doesn't seem to be hers. Frantically, she looks around the room and spots what she had been hoping to find. She crosses the bedroom and stands in front of the mirror, gaping at the reflection that stares back at her. She still looks like herself, but she looks younger...several years younger. She looks much like she did as a thirteen year old, but she's eighteen.

"Oh good, you're awake!" she jumps when she hears a voice behind her. She feels a sense of relief when she realises it's Brittany, but that relief shatters a moment later. Brittany looks different. She's older, in her thirties at least. She doesn't speak, she couldn't even if she wanted to. She knows she should probably be scared, but she's intrigued instead. "Breakfast is almost ready, please make sure you're ready for church on time this week." With that, Brittany steps back out of the bedroom. Her brows furrow as she watches Brittany leave, her stomach somersaulting as she watches Brittany's retreating back with foggy confusion.

"What the hell is going on?" she murmurs to herself. It has to be a dream, she knows that, but it feels real. It's insane and confusing, but it definitely feels real. She slowly follows after Brittany, her curiosity getting the better of her. She walks through the nicely decorated hallway, gazing all around her as she stops at the top of the staircase. There's four other doors upstairs and she is eager to find out behind them, but there's something about the way Brittany spoke to her that causes her to falter. She doesn't know why, but she doesn't think Brittany would approve of her snooping around instead of going downstairs for breakfast. Nervously, she walks down the staircase, looking around at the rest of the house. She can hear a television somewhere and she assumes that it's the living room.

"Quit dawdling, mom's already pissed." She almost does a double take when Santana brushes passed her. Santana looks a few years younger than usual, but she doesn't look as young as her. She notices that Santana is dressed much more modestly than usual, too. Her head starts to hurt as she tries to work out what could be going on. Her first thought is that is could be some sort of elaborate prank, but it's not possible. People can't just change their ages. "Yo, dork, are you listening?" Santana waves her hand in front of her face and she startles. "Breakfast, remember?" Santana speaks slowly, as though talking to an idiot.

"Yeah," she murmurs in response, and Santana gives her a weird look before sauntering into the kitchen. She follows Santana, feeling extremely weird. Walking into the kitchen, she looks around at the old fashioned appliances and décor. Brittany is cooking at an old stove that she remembers seeing in one of her grandmother's old photographs and the radio is playing a song that she has never heard before.

"Sit down," Brittany tells her, a glint of impatience flashing in her blue eyes. She's dressed casually, much like Brittany usually would dress and it confuses her. The way Brittany speaks, and the way the house is decorated is old fashioned. The whole atmosphere feels different and old fashioned, but Brittany is dressed in modern clothes. None of it makes sense, much like in a dream. She sits down at the table, frowning in confusion. A young girl, no older than ten, is seated between she and Santana and she's sure that she recognises the girl. There's someone else at the table with them, but they're hidden from view by the large newspaper that occupies their attention. "Sugar, I noticed that you did not make your bed when you woke up this morning," Brittany says, directing her gaze at the younger girl. "I would like you to fix that before we leave for church please." Sugar? Gaping at the younger girl, she realises that this is definitely the Sugar she is thinking of. The girl from glee club that she never really talked to all that much. The one that always seemed to open her mouth without thinking.

"Yes, mom," Sugar meekly replies.

"I believe we've had this conversation before, Sugar. Yes?" Her jaw drops as the person behind the newspaper reveals herself, and she really can't believe what she is seeing. Rachel Berry. Rachel, like Brittany, is older than she usually is and she looks even more like Shelby than she did before. Eyeing these weird versions of her classmates, she can't bring herself to even attempt to act normal. This is all too much. It's starting to really freak her out, and she desperately wants to wake herself up from this dream. Squeezing her eyes closed, she focuses on waking up. It usually works for her, but not this time. She opens her eyes to find Santana and Rachel staring at her, one mocking her with her eyes, and the other concerned.

"Are you okay, honey?" Rachel asks her, "you look a little...funny."

"She always looks like that," Santana grumbles, but her attitude crumbles after one, withering glare from Rachel. Sugar, for her part, stays quiet, clearly happy that the attention has been taken away from her forgetfulness.

"I'm fine, just tired." It's barely more than a murmur, but it seems to satisfy Rachel. Brittany interrupts to place plates of pancakes in front of all of them, including Rachel. Her eyes widen yet again as she watches Brittany place a gentle kiss to Rachel's lips.

"What the hell?" she mumbles, mainly to herself. Unfortunately, Rachel hears her.

"Excuse me? Have you forgotten what happened the last time such language left your mouth?" Rachel looks furious, and she has no idea how to react. What if Rachel questions her further? What is she supposed to say? This isn't her life, how is she supposed to remember something that she didn't live? "I don't want to hear that language again, do I make myself clear?" Rachel sternly asks. It's strange...she feels weird, she feels like she has a reason to want to please Rachel with her answer, but she can't understand why.

"Yes," she murmurs, settling for the safest answer.

"Good." Again, Rachel seems satisfied. They eat breakfast in silence and she makes sure not to even glance at Brittany when Brittany sits down next to her. She's scared of being found out as some kind of imposter, even though she never chose this. Sugar does most of the talking during their meal, the young girl rattling off stories of people she has never heard of to Brittany and Rachel. She doesn't know what to do when breakfast is finished, and she's surprised when Santana hands her the stack of dirty plates.

"It's your turn to wash, I'm on drying duty," Santana remarks, leaning against the kitchen counter and folding her arms across her chest. Looking around, she notices that Sugar and Rachel are no longer in the kitchen.

"Come on, darling," Brittany says to her, "we don't have time to mess around this morning." She does as she is told, as it seems like it's the best option, and begins washing the breakfast dishes.

"Can I drive to church?" she hears Santana question Brittany, moving to stand beside her. The height difference is larger than it usually is.

"No, we're all going in the same car," comes Brittany response. "You're still restricted from driving your car, anyway." Santana scoffs, clearly not happy with the answer she received. Listening carefully to their conversation, she slowly washes a pot, not wishing to miss any of Brittany and Santana's interactions. Hopefully, she'll learn some information about this new life that she has found herself drowning in.

"What if I just take it?" she hears Santana ask. For some reason, she winces. For reasons she can't understand or explain, she feels in her gut that Santana should not have done that. It's as though her body recognises situations, but her mind certainly doesn't.

"Then I'll take a switch to your behind," Brittany tucks Santana's hair behind her ear, her voice calm. Her breath catches in her throat, had she heard correctly? She doesn't hear another response from Santana, and she assumes her gut feeling is correct; it's best to just listen to Brittany. Neither of them talk to her as she continues to wash up. Good. She's relieved because she doesn't know what's going on yet, and she has no idea how to interact with these versions of her friends. In fact, she doesn't think they're her friends at all right now. They seem to her family, but that doesn't make sense. The whole little universe doesn't seem to make sense at all, nothing seems to fit together. It's old fashioned and modern at the same time, it's like different eras have been welded together. That's why she's convinced it's a dream, but she just can't wake up.

"A coma?"

Will Schuester looks around at his glee club, wishing he had been able to bring a smile to their sad faces instead of having to give them more bad news. They had all been wearing those sad, traumatised expressions since the accident. He prays for the day that he can give them some good news.

"Yes," he murmurs, nodding. "There's nothing more to tell than that, guys," he states apologetically. They're going to keep everyone updated and the doctors will do everything they can." He glances at Brittany and Santana, noticing how lost they look without their friend. "We should try and stay positive and take turns in visiting her. She may still hear us." The students are no longer listening to him, and he doesn't blame them. He's struggling with this, too. "Come on," Will murmurs, almost inaudibly. He looks up, hoping that some kind of deity will hear him. "Come on," he repeats. "We're waiting for you, Quinn."

To be continued... I will post a new chapter every Friday. Please review.