AN: Okay, so I am working on the other story, but I've been editing and with the new job it probably won't get uploaded for a weeks. Also, I am going out of the country again for a few weeks in April, so my time frame is down. But you guys have been so great, I thought I'd rework an old story and upload it.

First of all, this story is from a different fandom, but I realized after I finished it that the characters were too much like our favorite OTP and I couldn't resist rewriting it from their perspective. Second, it's finished. So I'll just upload every few days until I go out of town. There are 12 chapters. Third, it follows (loosely) the theme of the last story and it's sad (at first) but picks up. It's entirely from Quinn's POV.

I hope that the reworking of an old story on a different website (that I no longer use) and a different fandom works. I really like this story as I think it records my style well.

Finally, in my universe there was no Beth. This takes place in the future and the assumptions that Rachel succeeded both professionally and personally (with our favorite girl) are there. So without further ado… here you go. If you guys like it, I'll upload it until it's complete. Like I said… every few days or so. Maybe sooner.

Chapter 1

I didn't want to get up. I hated the morning. Call it a learned behavior if you wanted, but it sucked. It didn't help that I hadn't gone to bed until three o'clock. Or that I'd drunk my body weight last night. But right now, what sucked the most… my phone squealing beside my head. Because I was too tired to turn it on silent.

I'd effectively ignored it the first time it rang.

Semi-ignored it the second and third.

But this was the fourth. I grabbed it, intent on throwing it out the window until I noticed the name.

"What's up?" I croaked out. I pulled back and looked at the time. Fucking six o'clock. Jesus.

"You sound like you swallowed a bag of razors."

"It's six o'clock in the morning." I didn't have time for this shit. "So let me ask you again. What's up? Or are you just looking to chat?"

I heard a sigh through the line. "Do you honestly think I'd call and wake you up if this wasn't important? Seeing as I hadn't talked to you in a year and a fucking half."

You know, Santana was my friend first. Seriously. We got each other when we didn't hate each other. But I got it – divided loyalties and all. More times than not, I found myself on the wrong side of that division but I guess that was sort of my fault…

"I don't really know why you're calling. Just that you're waking me up and haven't told me why." Or how the hell you've gotten my number, I thought.

She sighed again. "I swear to God, Q." She waited a moment. "Look. I'm freaking hiding out here calling you in the first place. If Britt caught me I'd be dead. So shut the fuck up and listen…"

I sat up and turned on the light next to my bed. Fuck my head hurt. "I'm listening."

"So how's Seattle?"

"Are you serious?" I rubbed my forehead and began plotting her slow death.

"No, ugh… okay, so..." She was hedging. "With everything that happened, I mean… I'm sorry about shit and stuff. You were stupid but I get it… it's just… I don't know how to say this."

I felt my stomach drop. I wasn't sure I wanted her to say whatever it was she was having trouble saying anyway. "Then don't." I told her. "Just… don't." I took a deep breath and lay back against the headrest. "If you don't think I need to know it. Or shouldn't know something. Just don't tell me. Then we're good."

She scoffed. "So that's it? You don't care anymore? Never thought that day would come. "

I didn't say that. "What the hell does it matter? Huh? You all have your life. I've got mine."

"Yeah. You're life sounds like it's going fucking great."

I sighed again. "I don't know how the hell you would know otherwise."

"You know what, Quinn? A few of us still give a shit about you."

I laughed. "Good one. And you're keeping tabs on me? Right."

She didn't say anything for a moment. I pulled the phone back and checked the screen. I was afraid I'd hung up on her. She finally spoke. "Look, I shouldn't be calling you. Kurt told me not to. So did Blaine. But I thought you should know… Finn died last night."

My stomach fell again. "What did you say?" I asked.

"It was just…" she took a deep breath. "We didn't know… We tried to…" She kept taking breaths. "Maybe if we hadn't been so… We should've paid better attention. By the time we got to Ohio, he was…"

I couldn't think. It was… I labored my breathing.

"Look, the reason I know anything about where you are… what's going on… was Finn. He kept tabs on you. Made sure you were okay. I just thought… It's not fair not to tell you. I don't give a shit what you did. He cared about you. And so did I. So I'm telling you."

"How's Rach?" I whispered.

"How the hell do you think?"

I closed my eyes. "Is she there?"

"Yeah… "She trailed off. "She's pretty much a zombie." She took a deep breath. "You know how she felt about him."

"Right…" I answered.

"Look. They're gonna be looking for me soon. We've got to… you know plans and stuff. The Hummels are kinda..." She took a moment. "I know shit has been bad for the last year and, Q. And I know that it ended badly. But… Hudson loved you. He kept up with you. He worried and stuff. And I just thought you should know. You deserve that. You can do with it what you want. You wanna come, come. He would've wanted you here."

I sat in silence for a moment. To be honest, I was still trying to process everything. "I don't think that would be wise," I finally said.

"I sort of figured you'd say that." She said. I heard her name being called in the background. "Shit. Look Q, I have to go. Please just tell me you'll think about it."

"Okay," I whispered.

"Coming," I heard her call out. "It was good talking to you. I sort of… kind of… you know, missed you. I'll text you later, okay?"

"Okay," I said again. "Thanks." But she'd already hung up.

I sat the phone down on the bed and closed my eyes. I wanted more than anything to go back to sleep. To just pretend like that phone called hadn't happened.

"Ugh," I finally moaned. I grabbed my phone and called the airline.

Because, ladies and gentlemen, I am stupid as fuck.

Seven times I'd almost turned the car around. Seven. I couldn't believe I was going back to Lima. I'd promised myself the day I left that I wouldn't step foot back in that fucking state, much less that town. Not for anything. But every time I thought about turning around, I remembered what Finn said to me.

"Quinn, every time you run you prove them right."

He was right. He hadn't wanted me to go in the first place. I'd played like I didn't have a choice.

"Don't be a fool. You were always smarter than everybody else I know."

He'd called me several times after I left. When I was in L.A. After I'd moved to Seattle. I never answered. He left long messages. Told me about his day. What he was watching on television. Silly stuff really. But he always ended it with, "someone cares about you. It would be nice if you'd return their phone call." Of course I didn't. Because I was stubborn. And full of pride. Maybe if I would have, I would've picked up on the signs. I was kidding myself. I couldn't even pick up on my own signs.

The plane ride was uneventful. I'd downed about seven scotches though. So possibly it was eventful and I just missed it. I hated flying. And I hated even more where I was going. I seriously contemplated getting off the plane and exchanging my return ticket for one straight back to the West Coast because there was no way in hell I could do this. I couldn't see her… them again. I just couldn't.

After we landed, I was still thinking about flying back. I thought about heading back to the ticket booth in the terminal when I saw San. She was standing off to the side, waiting.

"I got your text," she said.

I nodded at her. "Wished I hadn't sent it now." I looked around. "You alone?"

She nodded back. "Yeah. Told Britt I had to run some errands. Didn't say it was to Columbus but she's not really thinking and stuff. Everyone's still sort of out of it and shit. I don't even think she was listening." She noticed my bag hanging on my shoulder. "Is that all you've got?"

"Wasn't planning on staying long."

"You talked to anyone? Your mom or anything?"

I shook my head. No way I'd talked to my mom. She knew that though. I decided to throw her a bone. "Look, S, it's no big, right? I can grab room. I know no one wants me here." And I didn't want to be here. I came for Finn. Because Finn always believed in me. Even when…

She threw a set of keys at me. "Rented you a car." She handed me the rental slip. "I took the liberty of writing down the arrangements and shit. Gonna be a lot of people here tomorrow."

"Thanks," I nodded at her. "You didn't have to do that. I still know my way around."

She shrugged. "Least I could do." We walked towards the door. "Look," she said, turning around. "I get it if you don't want anyone to know you're here. Stay in the shadows and all that, but… promise me something."

I cocked my head a bit to the side. I wasn't keen on making promises anymore. "What?"

"Don't leave without telling me? That's not too much to ask, is it? When this is all over, maybe we can grab a drink or something."

I nodded. "Seems fair. I owe you that."

She pointed away from us. "Your car's over there. Be careful. And get some rest."

"You too," I told her, as she walked away.

After a fitful night's sleep, I woke up and got ready for the service. They were holding it at the gravesite. I was thankful it was a large cemetery.

I wanted to be simple. Blend in. More than anything, I didn't want Rachel or the others to see me. I'd packed light, but well… and I chose a simple pair of black pants and shirt. I pulled out my coat. I'd bought it the last time I was here. Thinking I'd need it that day…

Even twelve years after graduation… Lima was a still hole in the ground. I got that sinking feeling that coming here was a huge mistake.

I checked myself in the mirror one last time before I left. I'd made sure to look nice. But simple. I really didn't want anyone to notice me.

When I got to the cemetery thirty minutes later, I realized that was going to be easier than I thought. There were hundreds of people mulling around. Maybe more. I was sort of in awe. I didn't realize Hudson knew this many people. I forgot about the high school. How much he'd loved it. How much we'd always made fun of him for going back and working there. Looking around, I realized how many people loved him. It also allowed me to blend in.

The sky was overcast and it was cold when I got out of my car. I moved to the back. I noticed there was a small platform closer to the front of the crowd. I moved further back so that I could see.

I saw Schuester first. Standing with the Hummels. Kurt was beside them, Blaine's arm around him. I noticed what had to be the back of Puckerman's head standing next to someone in a large black hat that I assumed was Mercedes. Tina was standing near Artie and Mike. I finally saw San and B and wasn't sure who was holding whom up at this point. I even thought I saw my mom at one point, but I wasn't sure. What I was sure of… no Rachel… anywhere.

I didn't get time to think about that. Cause Kurt walked onto the platform. There was a small microphone. "We would like to thank everyone for coming today."

I stopped listening. Rach wasn't here. I wasn't sure what that meant? Where could she be? There were a few others standing around the "gang" but no one I recognized. No Rachel. Kurt was blathering on about Finn and how he'd died before his time and… you know, I got it. I just didn't… nothing about this felt right.

When he'd finished a few other people spoke. Students of his. Colleagues I didn't know. A few told stories that should have been funny but weren't, though people laughed. I could hear some people crying and still all of this felt wrong.

The San made her way up. I stood off to the side so I could see her better. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "Many of you knew Finn Hudson. He was your teacher. Your bro. Your friend. And he was all those things to us as well," she started motioning to the rest of them. "And I can't believe…" she swallowed. "I guess it's never easy burying someone you love. And we all kind of loved Hudson." She shook her head. "Not kind of. He doesn't deserve that. We loved him. He had faults..." she hesitated, "But who doesn't? It didn't matter because Finn was the person who held us together. He taught us to be strong. He loved us. And in the end, he died. It's not fair. And it's hard. But people die. And I know he wouldn't want us…" she looked at the others. I noticed a few nodding. "He wouldn't want us doing this. Crying over him. Even after everything we've… we've been through and stuff… he was the one who always said 'you've got to smile at least once a day… you've got to keep living. Keep holding on…" She wiped a tear away from her face furiously. "We feel guilty. I know that. But he wouldn't want that either… and you all know that," she made eye contact with everyone up front.

She paused a moment, and I wondered if she was going to stop speaking. She wasn't finished though. "There's love. And there's love. The older we've gotten, the more we've realized that love comes in many shapes and forms. He loved us unconditionally. As much as we loved him…" she choked back a sob. "I… Finn's best friend is not here today."

I took a sharp breath.

She pulled out a piece of paper from her coat pocket. "But she asked me to read something. – 'I have known Finn over half my life. His life kept me sane. His death has left me empty. Last year, Finn gave me a book of poetry. I was surprised because I didn't know that he read poetry. I shouldn't have been. And yet he always surprised me. That was his gift. There is one poem in the book that I have read over and over again. It is entitled 'Grief'. I apologize if it is morbid. But only because it is true.'" She cleared her throat. "Rachel wanted me to read the poem:

Trying to remember you

is like carrying water

in my hands a long distance

across sand. Somewhere people are waiting.

They have drunk nothing for days.

Your name was the food I lived on;

now my mouth is full of dirt and ash.

To say your name was to be surrounded

by feathers and silk; now, reaching out,

I touch glass and barbed wire.

Your name was the thread connecting my life;

now I am fragments on a tailor's floor.

I was dancing when I

learned of your death; may

my feet be severed from my body.

She stepped down.

I knew the poem. There was a time when I'd have been proud of Rachel reading contemporary poetry. Now it just made me nauseous and I had to close my eyes and breathe slowly through my nose to keep from being sick. It was obvious what she had meant. She blamed herself. It was a path I knew quite well. I noticed others moving towards the stage, intent on sharing their own grief.

This was a mistake. I didn't need to be here. I didn't want to be here. Rachel wasn't here.

Was that why I'd come? I wasn't even sure anymore. I walked as fast as I could to my car, completely content with driving to the airport. It didn't hit me until I got inside and shut the door.

I hadn't cried.

Not once. Not since Santana had told me. I didn't know what that meant either. I didn't know what anything meant anymore. My ticket wasn't until late tonight. I had no fucking idea what I was going to do for the next eight hours, but I had to get out of here. And away from this cemetery.

I just couldn't go without seeing her grave.

The real reason I shouldn't have come back and the real reason I couldn't cry. She was buried at the very back. I got back out of my car and made my way over when I was sure no one saw me. I walked slowly. I wasn't sure I was ready for this. And then I saw the tombstone. I stopped dead in my tracks though, because I wasn't alone.

Rachel was sitting down in front of it.

I stopped moving. This was why she hadn't come to the funeral, wake, or whatever that just was. Her back was to me and she looked like she had on a pair of pajamas. Like she'd just gotten out of bed. I stayed where I was a bit longer. Her shoulders were moving softly and I assumed she was crying,

Yep. I needed to get out of here. Fast.

I moved to turn around and then I felt someone walk up. I quickly turned around and noticed a woman who had been standing off to side of Puckerman. I hid behind a tree about thirty feet away from them.

"Rachel?" The girl said, putting her hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you come back with us?"

She shook her head, "I'd rather not."

The girl bent down beside her and wrapped her arms around her. I felt a little sick. She was speaking lightly but it was a quiet day and I was straining to listen. "It's not healthy, you sitting out here." She looked up at the sky. "I think it may rain."

Rachel was sitting on her knees beside her. She moved to sit all the way down and shook the girl off. "I need to be alone. I'll come later."

The girl stood up, but not before kissing her on the cheek. "I love you." I felt my stomach clinch.

"I know," Rachel whispered.

She shook her head and left. I waited until she was really gone before I decided to leave. I shouldn't have come here. I just…

"So that's it? You come all this way and what… you just leave?"

"Rachel?" I whispered.

I heard her sigh. "Expecting someone else?" She finally turned towards where I was standing. "I know you're there. So you might as well come out."

I stepped around the tree. It was hard looking at her now that I knew she could see me. "I shouldn't have come."

She sighed again. "No." She pulled her knees to her chest and laid her cheek on top of them. She was facing me.

I didn't move. "I don't know what to say."

She raised her head up and frowned. "No one does," she answered, turning towards the grave again.

She didn't say anything else. And I wasn't sure what to fucking do. I was standing there, like a moron, staring at the back of her head. I shouldn't have come… I turned to go.

"Don't," I heard her say. "Don't go."

I stopped and turned around. "Then tell me what am I supposed to do." My voice was heavy.

"Do you ever cry?" She asked.

I stayed where I was. "No."

She nodded like she understood. "I wondered about that."

"Do you?"

She stood up and brushed off her pants. "It was getting easier. Not easy. Never easy. But easier. And then this."

"I'm sorry," I winced. I probably shouldn't have said it. She hated that I apologized.

"For what?"

"For Finn. For…"

She held up her hand. "Don't. I can't do that today." She ran her fingers through her hair. She looked so goddamn tired. "You look good," she lied.

"So do you," I lied back.

"You're a crappy liar," she answered. "Where are you staying?"

"Huh?"

"Where are you staying?" She repeated slower.

"I'm not… I mean I stayed at the motel downtown last night, but I'm headed back," I looked at my phone, "in… uh seven hours."

"Headed back where?" She seemed disinterested.

"Does it matter?"

She shook her head. "No." And then she nodded. "Yes… yes. It does matter."

"Seattle."

She nodded again. "Is it cold there?"

"Sometimes."

"I don't like the cold. I'm tired of it. I want to go somewhere warm." She moved a bit closer to me.

I held my breath for a moment. "Okay."

"I want you to take me." She whispered. She was standing a few feet away from me. "Please?" Her voice was broken.

I didn't answer her. Mostly because I didn't have an answer. The closer she got to me, the harder I found it to breathe.

She took my hand in hers. It was freezing. She was right. She was cold. "Please?" She asked again.

I nodded.

She moved closer and wrapped her arms around me. She put her head on my chest. I rested my chin and top of it and pulled her to me. She was so cold. I could feel her crying through my shirt. But she wasn't making a sound. "Now?" I finally asked her.

She nodded against my chest. "Thank you," she said.

Ever wake up in a strange place? I've done it more than once. More than twice, really… It never gets easier. Case in point… I bolted straight out of the bed when my phone woke me up screaming for the second time this week.

The difference – someone was laying beside me this time. It took me a moment to realize it was Rachel.

She rolled over. "They know you were there?" She mumbled into the pillow.

I picked up my phone. It was Santana. I sat it back down. "Yeah," I told her, throwing myself back against the pillow. "Didn't think it would take them that long to figure out."

We'd snuck into her dad's yesterday, grabbed her clothes, money, and her passport and took off. I was still surprised no one saw us, but I figured everyone was at the Hummel's. We didn't talk much on the way to Columbus. I just asked her where she wanted to go.

"I don't care," she'd muttered, staring out the window.

I checked flights when I returned the rental car. "There's a plane that leaves for New Orleans in an hour."

She nodded. "It's warm there."

So I bought two tickets and wondered what the hell we were doing.

When we'd landed, we were both exhausted. We got a cab. I'd rented a hotel room before we took off. We hadn't once discussed what we were doing and I pondered if it was her or me who was running.

She moaned into the pillow again. "Is it morning?"

"Yeah," I closed my eyes. "You know they're gonna track us, don't you?" I sighed. "And your dads are gonna filet me."

Rachel's father worked for the Ohio Bureau of Investigation. I knew that was how Finn had kept tabs on me. He could track anyone. I'd stupidly bought those damn tickets with my fucking credit card and I was mentally smacking my forehead.

She rose up and turned towards me. "I couldn't stay there anymore."

I nodded at her. "You don't have to. Let them filet me. Fuck it. You don't wanna go back, you don't have to."

She rolled over and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "Where are we gonna go?"

I shrugged. "Don't know. Gotta a place in mind?"

She shook her head. "No." She closed her eyes when the phone rang again. "Don't answer it."

Shit. I wasn't fucking crazy. "Not planning on it." But… "You know they're gonna show up here, right? I mean, you take off like that and they're gonna come looking. Probably think I kidnapped you or some shit. I can't believe the police haven't stormed the door."

The phone rang again.

"Hand it to me," she finally said. When I gave it to her, she stared at it for a second before answering. "Hello."

I could hear someone damn near screaming on the other end.

"No, Daddy… No, listen. I'm fine… No, I just…" She sighed. "Stop talking! Listen. I'm fine. I'm not coming back. Not right now, I can't. " She listened for a moment. "I realize, and no Quinn didn't…" She took another deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Don't come here. I mean it." She started crying softly.

Fuck this. I put my hand on her shoulder. "You sure about this?" I whispered.

She nodded at me, crying harder.

"Give me the phone."

She raised her eyebrow at me, but handed it to me nonetheless.

"Which one?"

"Leroy," she whispered.

Of fucking course. Ugh. "Leroy."

"Quinn! What have you done to my baby?! Bring her back now!" He screamed through the line.

"She doesn't want to come back," I told him.

"I don't care what she wants! She's not in her right mind! You took advantage of a situation you had no right to take advantage of! You think you can just waltz in here…"

Okay fuck the yelling. "Listen up, she doesn't want to come back. And I'm not forcing her to because you think she should. Maybe she needs this."

I heard the phone being shuffled around. "Quinn Fabray, what have you done?"

I hated how much of a drama queen Kurt could be. "What have I done? What the heck are you even talking about?"

"You think you know what she needs? Where have you been the last year? You don't get to make that decision." He was pissed.

Luckily, I didn't care. "Neither do you, Kurt." I sighed. "Look, put Leroy back on the phone." I waited for the shuffling before I started speaking again. "Okay, I know you're like capable of finding us or whatever. And I know you can come get her if you want. Fact is… it's not what she wants right now. If you love her… you'll respect that and leave her be. If not, you've gotta come through me. Get that may sweeten the deal, but…"

"We're worried about her. Hiram is upset. Hope is beside herself."

Uh… huh?

Rach took the phone back. "I'll call you guys tomorrow." And then she hung up.

I started at her a little bit shocked. "Think that was smart?"

She shrugged.

"Who's Hope?" I asked her.

She closed her eyes again. "Do you really want to know right now?"

I weighed that question for a moment. "Guess not." I swung my legs off the bed. "So… do we stay here or do we go?"

"What do you think?"

I didn't know what to think to be honest. We hadn't seen each other in over a year. And truth was, when we'd parted it wasn't exactly on good terms. I wasn't sure what we were doing. "Sorta feels like you're driving this wagon."

She nodded. "And you're just gonna go with me? No questions."

"Not right now," I told her. "None of this feels real to be honest."

"What about Seattle?"

"What about it?"

"You can just leave it?"

"Yeah." I didn't tell her that nothing felt like home anymore. That I just floated around. Not thinking. Not feeling. "Not much there for me." I grabbed my bag. "You can leave New York? Ohio?"

She pulled the bag we'd bought her into her lap, looking for her toothbrush I guess. "I already have, haven't I?"

"I guess so." I pulled out my stuff. I needed a shower. I nodded towards the bathroom. "Wanna go first?"

She shook her head. "Go ahead. I'm good." She moved to pick up the room phone. "I'm hungry. Gonna call room service."

"Okay," I smiled. "I want…"

She held up her hand, already dialing. "I know what you want, Quinn."

Of course she did.

I took longer than normal in the shower. Half of me wanted to hurry, afraid that she would be gone. Half of me wanted to stay in there forever, hoping she would. I wasn't sure what the hell we were doing but the holding pattern of not really talking and, consequently not really dealing, wasn't going to work forever.

She was sitting on the bed when I got back, a cup of coffee in her hand. She'd ordered breakfast. Beignets. New Orleans and all.

She handed me a cup of coffee. "I've already eaten. I feel very grimy and realize I've been in these clothes for a couple of days now. I would like to take a shower."

I gestured with my hand. "All yours."

She smiled at me and nodded. I towel dried my hair and ate quickly. I found a travel size bottle of Bailey's and put it in my coffee. While I was getting dressed, my phone chimed.

I'm calling, pick up.

It was Santana. I answered as soon as it rang. "Hey," I whispered.

"Is Rach around?" She was whispering too.

"No, she's in the shower. You wanna talk to her?" I glanced at the door.

"No. You. Listen, they're planning on coming to get her. I know she told them not to, but… I can't talk long. Just grab your stuff and get out of there. They've been on the phone with someone down there."

"Who's coming?" Fuck me. Why did I feel as if we were running from something?

"I don't know exactly. Look, just get her and get the hell out of there. I figure you've got about twenty minutes."

I didn't get a chance to ask her anything else, since the line went dead.

I grabbed our stuff and threw it in the bags. We didn't have much. The shower cut off as soon as I opened the door. I threw Rachel a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. "Get dressed. We've got twenty minutes max."

"What!?" She grabbed her clothes as I shut the door.

"Santana called."

She ran back out. Her hair was wet and her cheeks were red. She looked… I grabbed her arm. "We gotta get out of here, Rach."

She nodded and followed me out. We skipped the elevator and ran down the stairs. I threw the key at the front desk as we were leaving. "Charge the room," I told her.

She went outside and hailed a cab.

It was a good thing. When we were pulling off, I saw the hotel security run out of the hotel. Jesus.

She gave the cabbie an address that definitely wasn't the airport. I raised my eyebrow at her.

"I know someone. Trust me."

I nodded because I didn't really have a choice.

Five minutes later we pulled up outside of an office building I didn't recognize.

She noticed my face. "They can help us."

"Are you sure about this?" I asked her when we got out.

"I just want to go somewhere for a while. My record producer's has connections in New Orleans. And also a private plane."

I shook my head and followed her inside. I wasn't sure what I was doing.

The woman we met with was British. She said her name was Sophia.

"I am sure we can arrange the jet," she was saying, after offering us some coffee.

Rachel smiled at her. I kept my mouth closed because I had no idea how she knew this woman. "It would have to be discreet. I just can't…" She trailed off. "It's been a rough year, Sophia."

Sophia nodded. "Where?"

"I don't care," Rachel said. "Somewhere warm. A long way from here." She sighed. "With a beach."

Sophia smiled at her. "We still have the house on Saint Thomas. Since it's American, no passport is needed. I mean your father can probably still find you, but we can use the private airport."

Rachel nodded again. I felt like I was breaking some sort of law. Rachel was an adult. So was I. We hadn't committed any crime. But I still couldn't shake the feeling that we had.

Sophia nodded. "Do you have money?"

Good question. I did have money. So did Rach.

"Right," Sophia said. "You should be fine then." She stood up and said she had to make some phone calls.

"I need to call Quentin," Rachel announced after Sophia left. Quentin was her record producer.

I nodded back watching her leave.

What the fuck was I doing?

It took less than two hours to set everything up. Rachel slept on the plane. I was stuck with my thoughts. I drank about six tiny bottles of rum I found stashed in the cupboard, before the pilot announced we were landing.

It didn't take long to get a cab. Rachel had the address. I'd had a bit too much to drink and the heat made me sleepy. When I woke up, we were in front of a modest beachfront house. "You been here before?"

She shrugged and walked up to the house. She had a key in her hand. "We'll have to go shopping," she called over her shoulder.

I watched her walk away. I took a deep breath. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn't have taken her away from everyone. Finn was dead. I sighed because it hurt to remember. How could I help her? I couldn't even help myself.

I stayed where I was a few moments longer before following her inside.

"Rach?" I called out. "Rachel?"

She was in the kitchen. "We have food. Don't know who was here last. They had good taste though." She held up a bottle of wine. "See? Good wine. Not that you care, I bet. But they've got beer too. And bourbon. Still like bourbon?" She didn't wait for me to answer. She was flitting around the kitchen, opening doors. "See? Cereal. Fruit. We'll need staples of course, but at least they've got…"

"Rach, stop."

She turned around and scrunched up her face. "What?"

I sat my bag down. "Slow down," I said, walking over to her. I took a deep breath. "What are we doing?"

She shut the cabinet. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." I sat on a barstool. "You and me. What are we doing right now?"

"Quinn," she sighed. "I don't want to do this."

"Tough," I told her. "I just followed you across the ocean, sweetie. I think we sorta need to."

She slammed her hands down on the counter in front of me. "You don't want to be here? Fine, go. I'm not going back."

I stood up. "No one said anything about going back. But the last time I saw you, we weren't exactly on good terms. And now we're in some love nest in the tropics. We need to talk."

She scoffed. "This isn't a love nest. And no. We don't. Just go back to Seattle. I should've known better than to think…"

"To think what, Rach? That we could just pretend like nothing ever existed. That Finn didn't die. That Eva didn't…"

"Don't!" She screamed. "Don't you dare!" She pushed herself off the counter she'd been leaning on. "Don't!"

I moved closer to her. "Okay. I won't." I touched her shoulder tentatively. "I won't."

She nodded. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

I pulled her to me. "Me too."

She pulled back suddenly. "Have they called you? Santana? Daddy?"

I shook my head and pulled out my phone. "I turned it off." I sat it on the counter. "But I want to keep it charged. Just in case."

"In case of what?"

I shrugged. In case I have to call them, I didn't say.

After we explored the rest of the house and admired the pool and the killer beach view, we decided to go shopping. We made our way around the island, bought some clothes, groceries. Rachel blathered on about the scenery. I just nodded. I had a feeling. A bad feeling. None of this felt right. She didn't feel right.

We had one last stop to make. She wanted a certain kind of shampoo. Something about her hair and the humidity or something. There was a market one of the shop girls sent us too. When we got there, she took off. I held back.

"Go ahead," I told her, nodding at a package store across the street. "I feel like I may need more alcohol than we have in that house." I smiled at her.

"Okay," she smiled back. "Meet me back here in fifteen minutes?"

I nodded at her. "Sure thing."

I watched her walk away and when I was sure she was gone, I ran around the side of the building. There was a pay phone I'd seen when we drove by. I wasn't stupid enough to call Santana. No way they didn't know she'd warned us by now. But…

"Hello."

"Sam." I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Quinn? What the hell is wrong with you? Where the hell are you guys? Your parentals are freaking the hell out. Leroy's gonna call in the cavalry soon. Kurt's running around crying. Britt thought you guys ran away forever. Have you lost your damn mind? Are you with Rachel?"

"Yes. I'm with her. And I can't talk long." I was watching for her. "I think I may have made a mistake."

"You think? You ran off with her in the middle of Finn's funeral."

Sam – mister state the obvious. "I know that. But she was… she was…"

"She was what, Quinn?" He cleared his throat. "How would you know what she was? You haven't spoken to her in a year. You haven't asked a question about her. Nothing."

Sam and I had kept in touch. I knew he never told anyone that. Not even Mercedes. Not even Finn. "You didn't offer, big guy." I pushed my hair off my neck. It was hot as hell here. "Look, something is wrong with her."

"You think? Finn died three days ago."

I sighed again. "I know that. I just mean… she's not…"

"Quinn, you are one of the smartest people I know. And also one of the dumbest. Look, I'm not going to tell them where you are. They haven't done Rachel any favors lately. She's been spiraling for a while. Finn dying… it was the final straw." He took a moment. "Thing is, you've been spiraling too. Even if you don't want to admit it. You hurt as bad as she does. You just hide it better. I don't think you're gonna be able to fix each other, but… It may be what both of you need for the time being."

I leaned against the wall and looked for Rachel. Still didn't see her, thank god. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know, Rachel has sat in her pain since it happened. It surrounded her. Consumed her. Even with everyone trying to help her. Britt. San. Her dads… Hope." I didn't bite. "But you… you ran from it. Just ran and ran. And when that didn't work, what did you do? Hide and tried to drink it away." I still didn't speak. "I think it's good you're together. If you don't kill each other or yourselves, you may figure something out."

"What does that mean?"

He sighed. I was imagining slapping him. "Most couples don't survive the death of a child, Q."

I sucked in my breath. "I have to go."

"But they face it. Neither of you have."

"I can't talk to you. I have to go." I was shaking. "Forget I called."

"She died, Quinn. Accept it."

I hung up. I couldn't…

"Quinn!" Rach called.

I rounded the corner. "Over here."

She noticed I wasn't carrying a package. "I thought you were getting something?"

I shook my head. "Changed my mind." I forced myself to smile at her. "Ready?"