It's time for a new story! Okay, I know I will probably use long, over-drawn author's notes throughout this story. But I promise to limit them. That being said, bear with me for this one. This story, if I succeed in writing it, will be a very emotional and tragic piece. Without giving everything away, I aim to explore the emotional depths of the bond between two people who share a tragic experience completely to themselves. I don't really know where this came from, but I've had the idea for a while. The plot will jump back and forth, and yes, it is AU. Any mistake are mine, as this is un-beta'd. I honestly don't know what to say besides that and, thank for all your support of my other stories and possibly this one. Oh, and for all chapters, basic glee elements, characters, etc, are not mine, and the intent of this piece isn't to say otherwise.

xoxo,

littleredwritinggleek

Present Day

The lights flashed, blue and red, blinking rapidly. Her whole body felt dull, an underlying sense of pain that she couldn't yet feel just under the surface of her skin. She slowly moved, shifting on the cold seat underneath her. Muted voices and sirens filled her ears, steady and hollow white noise that streamed throughout her whole head. They grew louder, the lights brighter. The pain slowly started to set in, creeping up little by little.

"The boy, in the driver's seat! Get the boy!"

Boy, what boy?

Quinn turned her head, as if in slow motion. And with the sight of what was next to her, the pain finally set in, engulfing her body. She let out a scream, but it couldn't be heard.

It was like she wasn't even screaming at all.

Hell, maybe she wasn't. She didn't know.

A hand found hers, caressing it almost in a subconscious way.

And then she woke up. It was the same dream. It was always that dream. The dream was every bit of information she knew about that night, playing out in her sleep. Normally, she'd wake up, slightly aching and her heart beating rapidly. She would grab a glass of water, stare blankly at the muted television for a few minutes, and then fall back into an empty, calm sleep in her bed.

But not tonight. Tonight she rose calmly, her pulse even. She moved out of her bed, but didn't grab water. Instead, she reached for keys. Bright, shiny car keys. The snow was piling up heavily outside, the air cold, with a biting wind. Her hand turned the door knob, and she stepped bare-footed outside. Outfitted in only shorts and a t-shirt, she should have felt the freezing temperature chill her bones. But she didn't. She didn't feel anything.

Turning the key in the ignition, she mechanically backed out of the drive, moving the vehicle with ease. The roads were snowy, but not icy quite yet. She wasn't even aware of where she was going, simply driving as if it was like breathing, walking. It was easy, simple.

Turn by turn she made her way to her destination, the one that only her sub-conscious new. She didn't notice the quiet light coming out of a second-story window amongst the rows of dark houses. Everyone was blissfully sleeping in their beds, unaware of the sixteen-year-old driving past their houses, as far as she knew.

Finally, she found the place. It was empty, of course, the snow on the ground fresh and untainted. She got out of the car, oblivious to the fact that both and engine and the lights were still on, blinded in her trance-like state.

Her feet padded across the snow, her body guiding her the the stone, cold and hard. She wiped the layer of precipitation off of it. Normally, she wouldn't have known that this was it, but somehow she did, the name and dates confirming it. Her finger reached out, tracing the name.

F. The world was so still, as if time was as frozen as the trees. It was as if she could stay here, perfect and barely moving, forever.

I. Could she? Could she sit here, everyday, ignoring the world? Could she wither away right alongside the stone, never changing, only slowly vanishing?

N. Her finger moved along the slanted lines. "N" was for no. Of course not. How could she begin to vanish when that had already happened?

N. Again. Repeated. It was unfair. Nothing in life should be repeated. Not if everything couldn't be.

H. She continued on, unaware of the sound of a car different than her own driving the same path she drove. If she had been aware, she would've heard it slowly echo as it came closer.

U. Further it moved, but, sitting cross-legged, arms wet from melted snow that was slightly frozen, she didn't hear. Nothing could disturb the peace she felt, the hollow, emptiness.

D. That's what this was, right? Peace? It had been too long since she'd felt it, so how would she know?

S. A car pulled up next to hers. She was unaware of the male figure that jumped out, eyes searching. His eyes found her own body. Footsteps crunched through the snow, running. No, she couldn't register this. It was too much like the dream itself: the further it progressed, the more real it got.

O. Like the pain setting in, she heard the steps come closer. And then, a voice, calling out to her. Keep tracing, it could go away. But no, arms found hers, wrapping around her as their owner crouched next to her, enveloping her freezing body in his own.

N. And then it was over. She felt herself being lifted, and for a fleeting moment, maybe it was perfect. Maybe the warm arms would send her up straight into the heavens, where she could sit and trace right next to him, for eternity. But that didn't happen. Instead, heavy-looking boots trudged through the snow, towards the lights of two cars parked side by side. She felt herself being put into one of them, the door shut behind her. The guy went to the other car, turned off the engine, locking the doors and pocketing the keys. She heard him get into the car she currently sat in, shutting the door before turning to the backseat and pulling out a blanket, wrapping her up in it. He looked at her, his gaze a mixture of so many different things she couldn't read it. She didn't even have to look to know that. She didn't want to look.

Because one of those things would definitely be disappointment. And that was what she feared the most.

"Dammit, Q." And after those two words that confirmed her suspicion, he let out a sigh and stepped on the accelerator, driving away out of the parking lot.

And for the second time that night, she slowly woke up, albeit in a different way.

She finally felt: sad, angry, lonely, hateful, exhausted, and cold. Very, very cold.

Just like her dream, everything finally sunk in. A hand reached out in that same accidental way, caressing her own.

It was time to bolt awake, because she wasn't sleeping. She was living, breathing, absolutely one hundred percent alive.

And Finn Hudson, six feet under the cold hard ground, was not.