Be Brave

She stared at the cup in front of her, its contents shining up in the mid-afternoon sun.

Eight dollars.

Five hours siting on the ice crusted side walk for eight dollars.

Today was a good day.

Sinking deeply into the large, slightly worn hoodie covering her body and hiding it from view, Quinn licked her lips in anticipation of the cheese burger with her name on it waiting in the McDonalds across the street. Around her the street bustled with people intent on getting their Christmas shopping done and heading home as quickly as possible before the next storm was due to hit. Only a few even glanced at her, and most of those looked on in disgust, as if she sat there purely to annoy them. The others wore looks of pity, but not enough to have them reach for their wallets. It still amused Quinn, in a depressing way, how she could sit right out in the open, yet still be invisible to the people around her.

It felt like high school all over again.

Brushing the long straggly blond hair out of the way, Quinn pulled her beanie down further, trying to cover more her head. She had cried when the girl at the charity clothes store had placed it and the hoodie aside for Quinn. These sort of clothes disappeared quickly during this time of year as the rest of the city's poor and homeless attempted to stay warm during the winter. When the ex-cheerleader had entered the store two weeks earlier, she had been driven by desperation. None of the clothes she owned were anywhere warm enough for the December weather, and her head felt like it was completely frozen. The blonde had come to the conclusion that if she didn't find anything in the store, she would need to shoplift. The black hoodie was made for a man and was about five sizes too large, with its waist almost to Quinn's knees and the sleeves needing to be rolled back several times before her hands were even visible, yet she had fallen in love with it from the moment she put it on. The dark green woollen beanie was thick and warm and perfect for the icy temperatures on the streets, as well as keeping her now obscenely long hair out of her face.

A young family walked past carrying hot drinks, the smell of coffee seeming to drag Quinn by her nose. A young girl no older than five years stood only a few yards away holding her father's hand. Her long brown curls overflowed from the top of her pink coat and Quinn could scarcely believe how pretty the child was. Her parents had paused to gaze at the display in the store window next to Quinn, leaving the girl to stare directly at her. Tugging on her father's hand to get his attention, the girl pointed a Quinn.

"What's she doing daddy?"

Her father looked where the finger was pointing and saw Quinn, who offered an apologetic smile. The man's lips curled into a snare at seeing the begging girl sitting on the ground.

"What have I told you about pointing at strangers Lisa?" he replied in a bored voice, trying to draw the girls attention away.

"But why is she just sitting there?"

"Because she's lazy and thinks she's too good to work like the rest of us. This is what happens when you don't do your homework and fail in life." The man stated. A malicious smirk appearing on his face so similar to Quinn's father's that it instantly froze her blood.

The girl's father turned from her and, grabbing his wife's hand, walked away down the street as if Quinn's mere presence would contaminate his family. The entire way the young girl stared back at Quinn as she trotted alongside her family until they disappeared around the corner.

Quinn buried her face deep into the wide neck of the hoody; her gloved hands pulling the hood tighter so only her eyes were visible. Comments like that still upset her, although not enough to cause tears anymore. Those had stopped before the first snows had arrived.

The previous six months had been the hardest in Quinn's life.

Ever since she had gotten in to her car and left Lima behind, the world had turned against her. By the time Quinn had reached Columbus all of her cards and her phone had been cancelled. Who would have guessed her father could work so fast at being an evil, bigoted bastard.

Oh.

Wait.

She did.

It had been a complete shock to the system to learn that, at 16, it would be absolutely impossible for Quinn to find work. Apparently you couldn't get a job without a contact phone or a place to live, and you could get neither of those without a job. Sleeping in her car, Quinn had struggled to find any solution apart from begging. The blonde had thought about stripping, not caring about who could possibly see her, but when it came to the interview, the owner of the club had refused outright to let her even tryout when she couldn't produce ID. Prostitution had not even been considered. The thought of whoring herself out on the streets to any interested passer-by frightened her beyond belief.

And there was no way she could return to Lima.

Having ostracized herself completely from all of her old school friends by the end of the year, Quinn had had no one left to turn to. Even Mercedes had turned her back on Quinn after hearing that there was nothing she wanted more than to spend her summer getting in shape and clawing her way back to the top of the food chain, and she didn't care who she had to destroy to get there. Quinn knew that to do this, she had to become head Cheerio again. And to do that, she could no longer be seen with the losers of the school.

All to make Daddy proud.

As Quinn had driven had out of Lima, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the blood coming from her split lip, her left eye slowly swelling shut, all of the blondes desperate phone calls had gone unanswered. The dozen messages left on Mercedes phone had not been returned, nor had the ones left for everyone else. Every time another voicemail message played, more sobs rocked through her body. She knew they would all be together celebrating the 4th of July, yet with no invite Quinn had no idea of where they were gathered. Pucks house had been in darkness as she passed, as had Finns and Santana's.

Quinn had thought that if her friends could see her, understand the pain that she was in, then all could be forgiven. Yet finding out how far they would go to avoid her ripped a hole through her soul. As the ex-cheerleader drove into the darkness, she knew she was on her own.

Plans had passed through her head.

With her cards she would get as much cash out as she could in Columbus while stopped to get fuel. This could be used as a down-payment for an apartment. She could get a job. Study at night. Eventually even go to college and get a degree. Looking back, Quinn found her naivety in the world hilarious.

"Stop mopping Rachel!"

An effeminate male's voice, blasting off to her right, ripped Quinn away from her past and back into the present.

"Yeah Berry! We don't care that you and White Boy broke up for, like, the millionth time. It's Christmas! Stop ruining the mood."

Oh Fuck! Thought Quinn, as she heard all too familiar voices from her past approach. Burrowing down further into the massive hoody so nothing could be seen properly, Quinn prayed for them to just walk by. If there ever was a time to be invisible on the streets, now was it.

"While I do appreciate it being Christmas, Mercedes," the tiny divas voice boomed, sounding as if she was right on top of Quinn, "I am allowed to be upset that my boyfriend has broken up with me and has begun to behave like a petulant child around me whenever he gets a chance. And I can definitely be saddened when all of this has occurred less than one month prior to this. I am highly disappointed that my friends do not care enough to see how distraught this entire situation has made me, when we all know…"

"Oh Barbara!" the male voice cut through, mid rant. "What did you honestly expect to happen? I mean seriously, you cheated on Finn with Puck. And don't start going on about who kissed who. It doesn't matter. Did you learn nothing from Queen Bitch Quinn last year? What did you expect to happen?"

"Don't call her that!" Rachel's voice now sounded as if it was more filled with anger than the hurt, as it had only moments before. "She was your friend too once upon a time."

"Stop defending her Rachel," Mercedes replied. "She was as big of a bitch to you as she was to the rest of us. Have you forgotten about the Glist? Or perhaps all of the attempts to destroy glee last year. I know! Let's go buy slushies. I'm feeling nostalgic! And it's not like the bitch can hear us. What's she gonna do? Fly back from Texas or whatever Bible belt hick town she ran off to with her Nazi family, just too slushy us and throw us in the dumpster?"

"You do realise the she's the only person who probably hates you more than Finn. And for far less reason. She spent most of last year trying to destroy you. Why do you think it's so easy for Finn to turn the school against you? It's because that sadistic bicth made it so." Kurt finished with a shake of his head, as if trying to explain basic facts to a toddler.

Irony's a bitch, thought Quinn, but at least I'll have company.

Rachel stared at them with a forlorn look on her face, as though trying to make the pair understand something important without using the actual words. By now the three divas had finally reached Quinn, and as they walked past, two deliberately turned to look away across the road, feigning interest in something in one of the far stores. Rachel, however, stopped and turned her mournful expression on Quinn. The others continued on for another twenty or so feet before realising they had left the girl behind. Letting out large, exasperated sighs, they peered into the shop window next to them, examining the displays.

After staring into Quinn's eyes for nearly a full minute, Rachel looked down at her feet to read the cardboard sign lying there. The cardboard had once been an old real estate sign she had 'acquired' one morning while the occupants of the house it adorned were still asleep and was written in the last of lipstick Quinn had found in her car, a bright bubble-gum pink colour which had faded over the past months in the rain and sun. The sign had taken Quinn an entire day to draw up, with extra details added over the next few months using coloured pens she had stolen from a store on the other side of town.

Giving Quinn a sad, pitying smile, Rachel reached into her purse and withdrew a crisp twenty dollar bill and placed it in the cup before her. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and Quinn felt a wave of kindness and caring come from the girl, causing her to feel shame in her appearance and smell. The homeless blinde wanted nothing more than to disappear into the pavement and hide until Rachel had gone far away.

"Merry Christmas" Rachel spoke quietly, while closing her purse and, without another word, turned and started to walk to her friends.

Quinn struggled to find her voice, having not spoken to anyone for several hours, and it was not until Rachel had re-joined Kurt and Mercedes that she managed to sob out "Thank You."

Rachel froze and spun to stare at Quinn.

For several minutes the two of them gazed into each other's eyes, trying to read each other's soul. For a moment, Quinn was sure a spark of recognition flashed through the chocolate coloured eyes, before disappearing once more in confusion and sadness. After a few more moments, Rachel shook herself and hastened the others to leave.

"Who was that?" Quinn heard Kurt hiss loudly as the three moved away from her.

"Just a poor homeless girl Kurt," Rachel replied.

"You shouldn't encourage people like…" Mercedes trailed off as they walked out of hearing range.

Too close, thought Quinn, as she sat in shock watching the trio of divas leave. How the hell Rachel had almost recognised her voice after all these months, knowing that its croakiness masked her normal warm rasp, she did not know how. The former cheerleader waited until she could no longer see them before snatching up the money in front of her and shoving it deep in her pocket, cup and all.

Standing up and tucking her precious sign under her arm, Quinn quickly looked around, making sure she couldn't see anyone else who might recognise her sharing the street. Seeing the way clear, Quinn hurried in the opposite direction to the others. It was the wrong way to her car but she didn't dare risk it.

The money in her pocket felt like it was on fire. It was more than she had held in months, and Quinn was absolutely giddy with the endless possibilities. Ideas flashed through her mind; she could wash her clothes, buy soap, a new pair of underwear, scissors to cut her hair, a third set of gloves.

FOOD.

The word blasted through her mind.

FOOD.

The mere thought of a meal made Quinn's stomach rumble loudly.

She hadn't eaten yesterday, or the day before, as it had been so cold and wet that no shoppers had been out to beg from. The day before that though, Quinn had managed to beg some bread from a restaurant on the way back to her car, so had been lucky to have what she considered a decent meal that night. Food had become the main focus in the ex-cheerleaders life, followed closely by attempting to keep warm, and not an hour passed without the blonde trying to figure out where her next meal came from. On days she had food, her time was spent trying to make it last, while on days without, and nothing Quinn did would distract her from her empty stomach.

Once Quinn had gone two blocks, she crossed the street and walked to the next one over. This meant she could walk parallel to where she had been to get to her car. Now the former cheerleader had only a casual four and a half mile walk ahead of her, through the snow and ice while avoiding notice.

The shock of Rachel giving her the Twenty, let alone actually seeing her slowly wore off. Quinn should have known she would be someone who gave money to strangers without any need. A year ago, The blonde would be telling herself that it was purely to sate Rachel's deep seated need to appear morally superior to those around, but now she realised that it was purely because Rachel was a good person. Looking back, Quinn was disgusted at how childish she had been around the tiny, the deep seated need to live up to her father's standards as much as suppress her own inner desires. She may as well have been pulling the girls hair and pushing her into the sandpit.

The forgotten cheeseburger suddenly sprang to mind. In her haste to escape the tiny singer, Quinn had completely forgotten the food she had promised herself the second the first coin had been thrown into the jar. Sighing, Quinn looked around for another cheap food shop. All she really wanted was something hot and filling. The days of Quinn being picky over food were long past, especially when the occasional meal came from a trash can.

Realising that this was the wrong road to look for food on, Quinn decided to brave the main road again. Once there, she saw an array of shops that would suit her needs but was hauled to a stop as one smell cut through all the others.

Coffee.

I can buy a real coffee. The thought bounced around her skull destroying all other thoughts.

The shop on the nearest street corner was a small, busy café. Normally Quinn avoided such crowded places, knowing that her presence alone would offend most of the patrons; but as she reached the door, the blonde barely hesitated before opening it and entering the store.

The ex-cheerleader was immediately greeted by the warmth of the café, filled with the delectable aromas of coffee and sweet baked goods. Her stomach rumbling, Quinn hurried to join the short queue. Around her the café buzzed noisily with people enjoying their days. In one corner sat a table of preppy school boys who seemed to be trying to drown the rest of the café out with their laughter.

Slowly the café grew quieter as more and more of the patrons started casting disgusted looks her way. By the time reached the counter, Quinn new that the entire café was staring at her. With trepidation she approached the girl behind the counter who was wearing an "I'm better than you" smirk.

"Could I please have a soy vanilla latte, extra-large, and two savoury muffins?" Quinn asked in a quiet, hesitant voice, fully expecting to be told to leave any second. When the girl at the counter made no move to write the order down, Quinn pulled the twenty from her pocket.

The Girls reaction was instantaneous. A look of disgust replaced her smirk and Quinn could see the girl struggling to refrain from asking "who did you suck to get this?"

Snatching up the money from the counter, the café worker quickly wrote down the order and handed it over to the barrister, but not before Quinn saw the bold letters "TO GO" next to the word "HOBO".

"That's $9.50," as the girl handed back $10.50 in change.

Quinn moved over to the coffee counter to wait for her order and, aware that she was still under scrutiny from the staff and patrons of the café, made a small show of selecting two sugar packets and a single packet of butter. After a few minutes the cup of coffee and bag of food appeared on the counter and the barrister stated in a clear voice.

"Order for Hobo!"

Quinn quickly grabbed the food and drink with a hasty "Thanks" and rushed out of the store. Quickly, she glanced up and down the street so not to be knocked over by the crowd. Quinn's eyes instantly trained on to Rachel, Kurt and Mercedes heading in the direction of the café. Panicking, Quinn hurried off in the opposite direction; thankfully heading towards her car.

Once she was several blocks away, the former cheerleader slowed down so she could drink her coffee. A moan passed through her lips at the first taste, her eyes closing in ecstasy to enjoy something once taken for granted. Quinn ripped open the bag of food and, shoving the stick of butter in its centre, took a large bite out of one of the muffins, eliciting another moan. Savouring the taste of the first food she had eaten in three days, the blonde regretted not being allowed to sit in the warm café to eat and drink, but she knew far too well that there was no way the staff would let her. They no doubt thought she would freak the other customers out, or try to steal anything that wasn't bolted down. The pocket full of sugar and butter packets bore testament to the truth of that.

One hour later Quinn arrived at the church where her car had been parked.

The first few nights after she had first arrived in Columbus, Quinn had parked in shop car parks. However, she soon realised the risk of being towed, having only just rescued the car twice as the trucks rolled up to take it away. Eventually, after moving around for a week, her car barely running on fumes, the blonde had found the church in a quiet neighbourhood. It contained a large, semi lit, car park which backed on to a large park and cemetery. Parking as far away as possible from the church and road, Quinn soon found a rather peaceful home away from home.

After being parked there for four days and nights straight, Quinn was eventually approached by one of the pair of priests who live in the small house at the back of the church and was inquisitive as to why she was staying there. When he quickly realised that the blonde had nowhere else to go and refused to enter a shelter or, as the priest suspected, orphanage, the priest had consented to her living there as long as Quinn did not accost or hassle any of the church or cemetery's patrons.

As Quinn crossed the car park, she saw Father Michael beckon her over towards him.

"Good afternoon Lucy," he said with a warm smile.

"Good afternoon Father," Quinn replied. "Why are you out in the cold?"

"I was just looking at how beautiful the world is Lucy. How was your day today? Have you had anything to eat or drink? Would you like some tea?"

"It was good, Father, and I've just had a muffin and coffee so I'm fine thanks."

"Nonsense," the kindly old priest cut in, "come have some tea. I insist."

Ignoring her protests, the priest gently took Quinn's elbow and led her back into the house.

It was not often that Quinn interacted with priests, always feeling as if she was making the place dirty just by being there. In fact, in the five and a half months that Quinn had spent living in the church car park, she had only had tea with Father Michael five times. Normally Quinn managed to talk her way out of it.

Leading Quinn into the kitchen, Father Michael sat down at the table and said "How about you go and use the bathroom Lucy. The tea probably won't be ready for at least half an hour, if not longer."

Thanking him with a slight blush, Quinn moved past to the hallway and walked into the bathroom where she froze. Sitting in the centre of the room on the tiled floor were two fresh towels, a bar of soap and shampoo, and a small unopened packet of underwear.

Tears welling in her eyes, Quinn closed the bathroom door and began to remove her remove her clothes. Besides the large hoody and beany, the blond was also wearing two smaller jumpers, a large pink t shirt and two pairs of track pants, gloves and socks. After removing her bra and panties, Quinn turned on the shower and, while waiting for the water to warm up, stared into the mirror.

Her ribs were the first thing she saw, sticking prominently out of her chest, followed by how narrow her stomach and hips were. She was an anorexics dream. Finally moving her eyes up, she looked at her face in the mirror and flinched. Quinn's checks were pale and hollow, and there were large dark bags under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept in a month.

Climbing into the shower, Quinn let the water stream down over her face and body. After a few minutes, she realised that tears were washing down her face at the same time. Sobs began to rock through her body, and for five minutes the blonde was attacked by memories of harsh words said to her ex friends to impress her father, her father beating her mother, her father hitting her. The screams that chased her as she fled what once had been her home in the late evening of the 4th of July, while around her fireworks lit up the sky as her neighbours celebrated their independence.

Abruptly the images shifted to Rachel smiling at her as she placed the note into the cup, smiling at her as she wished Quinn a Merry Christmas.

Shaking her head to regain control, the former cheerleader furiously attacked her hair with the shampoo, shocking her at how much dirt and grim was coming out of it.

I suppose a month between showers will do that, Quinn thought to herself ruefully.

It took half of the bar of soap before Quinn felt that her skin was clean, and then had to regretfully turn off the shower. The towels were like clouds against her skin as she dried herself, and the fresh panties were absolutely heavenly, even if they were plain white cotton. Putting on her other clothes ruined the moment, finishing with the blonde tucking the remaining clean pairs of underwear in her pocket. The old pair could be thrown out, they were so worn and disgusting that Quinn grimaced as she picked them up and placed them in the waste basket. Finally, hanging up the towels, she left the bathroom and re-entered the kitchen.

Father Michael was just pouring the tea as she entered and waved for her to take one of the chairs. Disobeying the priest, Quinn walked up and threw her arms around the gentle old man.

"Thank you," she whispered, "for everything."

"You're welcome," the priest answered back, and carried the two cups to the table, sitting them down.

After drinking in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the old priest turned his gaze to Quinn and asked "What are you doing for Christmas day Lucy?"

"Um, you know. The usual," Quinn answered as she shrugged uncomfortably.

The old man continued to gaze at Quinn, a knowing look in his eyes. What Quinn actually had planned was spending the day hiding in her car, attempting to stay warm and dry, perhaps even eating a little food, all the while trying to ignore any emotions the day caused.

"There is another church in town, St Matthews, which has asked for some of us priests to help out by volunteering to serve food to those less fortunate to have anywhere else to go. Would you like to come?"

The Question caught Quinn off-guard, causing her to pause and think about the offer before finally answering.

"Would you like me to help serve food?" She asked hopefully.

"No Lucy."

"Oh," she hesitated, "I don't think I could afford it sorry. Perhaps next year?"

"The food is free, Lucy, as you've probably realised."

Quinn sat there, staring into the now empty cup, not knowing what to say. While the idea of free food was incredible, she really did not want to be classed with the rest of the city's homeless.

"Please Lucy," the priest begged, "calm an old man's heart and say you'll come. I promise you'll enjoy yourself."

Quinn gave in and reluctantly nodded in acceptance.

"Good," Father Michael said, standing up and walking over to the oven. Opening it, he pulled out two plates of what appeared to be sausages, mashed potato and peas. Placing one plate before Quinn and the other in front of himself, he looked at her with what was his attempt at a stern expression, the corners of his lips betraying him as they tried to curl up in a smile.

"Now eat."

An hour later, Quinn finally left the old priest and headed back to her car. She had not been this full in months, and it was at the point where the former cheerleader felt as though she was going to be sick. Opening the front driver's door, she climbed into the back seat and shut the door behind her. One of the first things Quinn had worked out when she had started living in her car was how to make sure the doors were permanently locked, so that the only remaining entry was where she came. The blonde knew it wasn't much security, but at least it was something.

Stripping off her boots and large hoody, Quinn climbed under her two thin blankets and tried to get comfortable. It was rapidly getting dark outside, so she knew there was no time to read. Instead, Quinn reached under her pillow, pulled out a small framed photo and stared at the little girl in her arms until it was too dark to do so.

Finally, the blonde touched the photo to her lips and whispered, "Goodnight my baby. I hope your Christmas is better than mine."

Tucking the photo back under her pillow, Quinn curled into a ball and slowly fell asleep to dream of long brown hair, and warm chocolate coloured eyes.