Authors Note: So, I write this from a request. It starts out featuring a school shooting in detail, and gets a little graphic in parts. It involves the entire New Directions, but the focus will be on how the tragedy leads to Quinn and Rachel falling in love. Thanks to my darling editor RachuBerry once more
The bell rang out as the students gathered in the choir room, everyone falling into the usual rhythm.
Quinn was one of the last to enter, green eyes scanning the room and observing the people who had, over time, become her family. Yes, there was Finn, listening intently as Puck recounted what would naturally be an extremely exaggerated tale of his latest conquest. Kurt and Blaine, hand in hand, chatting away in the corner, while Mike and Tina stood to the side, the dancer continuing his struggle to teach his girlfriend to dance as well as he did. Brittany was stretched out on the floor, her head cradled in Santana's lap as the girl ran her fingers through blonde locks, watching Sam and Rory talk to the band members. Mercedes and Rachel sat near the front, textbooks in their laps and chatting about the homework they would have for the upcoming weekend.
Quinn allowed herself to bask in the warmth the familiarity of the scene provided her. It was moments like these that made her so deeply thankful that she ever made the decision to join the club, even if her original intentions were not exactly positive. Now, however, she couldn't imagine life without the friendships she'd forged here, no matter how stained or weak. These were the people she felt at home with, safe and understood.
It took a while for her to realize that the warmth was no longer from this rush of affection of the group, but rather a blush. Snapping back to reality, Quinn found Rachel's eyes locked on hers, the fierce blush on her cheeks giving herself away. They remained as such, staring at each other across the crowded room, where everyone loved each other but in moments like these, never really noticed each other. Breaking the gaze, Rachel smiled warmly, and patted the seat beside her, calling Quinn over.
Finding her legs could indeed move, Quinn made her way across the floor to sit beside to brunette, flashing a cautious smile her way. Rachel returned the smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she spoke.
"Welcome, Quinn. We were just going over the English homework, what poem were you assigned?"
Quinn, however, heard no such question. Her eyes were focused on the girl's lips, moving effortlessly as she spoke. Instead of Rachel's voice, her own filled her mind.
What are you doing, staring at her like that? For God's sake, Fabray, look at her eyes! Her notebook, Mercedes, anything! But those lips…how are they even so perfect? I wonder what it's like to kiss her, I bet she's an amazing…wait, what are you doing? Stop that. We do not fantasize about kissing Rachel Berry. Those lips though…
She opened her mouth, screaming at her mind to recall what Rachel had said. Something about reading, right?
Suddenly, the bell rang again. This time, however, it didn't end. The continuous noise rang through the room, leaving everyone silent. They knew what this meant, had practiced the drill dozens of times over the years. Lockdown.
Someone had entered the school, armed, with the intention on harming them.
Noah laughed first, rolling his eyes and standing up with his fingers pointed as a gun to Finn's head.
"Alright everyone, get on the ground!" he called, causing the band members to laugh.
Upon their laugher, he turned around in mock anger, narrowing his eyes.
"Fine, then the jock gets it," he playfully snarled, pulling his fingers back.
"Bang."
Though his words were drowned out by the distant sound. It was far away, maybe even across the school, but loud enough to easily be distinguished.
Then, it happened again. Two more gunshots, then silence.
It took a moment for everyone to react, but once they did, it was a flurry of movement. Chairs were thrown to the side, instruments dropped, backpacks spilled across the floor. The band members fled the room, some refusing to leave their instruments behind in their escape. The glee club, however, banded together, watching with wide eyes as they realized they were alone.
"Get on the ground", Puck demanded, his voice an urgent, hushed whisper.
Obliging, the group moved to lie on the ground. Quinn took the opportunity to assess the situation, looking to her friends to gauge their reactions. Santana looked petrified, clinging to Brittany as if she could shelter the girl from the invisible harm. Finn snaked an arm around Rachel's shoulders, holding her close, while Mike gently wiped tears from Tina's eyes.
"I'll get the door. Chang, draw the window curtains", Puck instructed, staying low to the ground as he made his way over to the door.
All eyes remained on the mohawked boy as he slowly walked over to the door. Quinn could feel her heart hammering loudly against her chest, palms sweaty, as everyone held their breath while Noah slowly stuck his head around the corner too peer into the corridor…
The gunshot was loud. Louder than Quinn had ever expected a gunshot to be. The sound echoed around the room, amplified by the choir walls, joined by several high-pitched screams.
Noah turned around, eyes wide, mouth agape as he looked past the group to the boy behind them.
It happened in slow motion. Quinn knew, logically, that time doesn't change. But she'd swear, along with the rest of the group, that time slowed. Turning around to follow Noah's gaze, Quinn saw Mike's face drop. Then fall from his position on the chair, the window he was covering smashed from the bullet.
Slowly, slowly, his body fell backwards, a single hole perfectly in the middle of his forehead. The body, so very graceful, landed with an all too human thud on the ground.
And all hell broke loose.
Brittany screamed the loudest, Santana turning her away and holding her head to her shoulder, unable to take her own eyes off the boy. Kurt and Blaine were blank faced, clearly in shock, Kurt's trembling lower lip the only sign of the events that were unfolding around them. Quinn leapt to her feet, not really sure why, but knowing she felt more in control that way. She joined Noah in rushing to Mike's side, Quinn cradling his head in her lap while Noah grabbed his shoulders.
"Everyone, up against the wall, now!" Noah shouted, fingers pressed against Mike's neck.
Everyone scrambled up against the wall with the whiteboard, in an effort to hide from view through the doors.
"Fuck! Chang!" Puck shouted, all fear of talking too loudly lost in his efforts to search for any sign of life.
Everyone was silently pressed against the wall, sliding down in their shock, unable to stand. One girl, however, didn't join them, instead remaining frozen where she crouched. Where her boyfriend had last tenderly wiped tears from her eyes. The silence was broken by a small voice. A voice so rarely heard, that it was a miracle they recognized it at all. A voice so small, so broken, so raw, that it was almost as loud as the gunshot.
"Mike…"
All eyes fell on the girl. The girl who broke down so often, that Quinn would have expected her to be the first one in tears. Definitely not Santana, who was silently whimpering into Brittany's hair. Slowly, Tina stood, her face pale and drawn, and made her way through the group of frozen friends to the boy who had captured her heart and mind.
"Mike," she repeated in the same whispered voice that screamed louder than any shout ever could.
Falling to her knees, tears threatened her eyes as she gazed down at the boy who was always moving, always smiling or dancing or joking or something.
He was so very still in death.
Tina's bottom lip trembled, as she reached for Mike's hand, gripping it tightly in her own. The paleness of her skin warned Quinn that the girl was very likely in shock, and the absence of tears in such an emotional girl was unnerving.
Everyone was staring. Nobody would admit it, but they were blankly staring. Kurt clutched both Blaine and Mercedes arms tightly; Brittany still had her face buried into Santana's shoulder, while Finn held a now crying Rachel in his arms.
When Quinn went to release Mike's head from her lap, she realized her hands were soaked in blood. Despite the wound to Mike's head, Tina had kept it together. Until that moment, where Quinn's hands came into view. The sobs started out small, barely audible as they raced through her chest. Then, suddenly, she grabbed a fistful of Mike's shirt as she placed her head to his chest, crying violently.
Agonizing screams of grief and loss that would never be forgotten by those who heard them.
Noah looked pale, standing over the pair, looking like he was going to be sick. Quinn's suspicions were confirmed when Puck stepped quickly away to the opposite side of the room, throwing up to the side.
Nobody said anything.
Quinn looked at the group, suddenly realizing that every single one of them was still in danger. Rising slowly, she stood on top of the blood-splattered chair and slowly, closed the blinds. Moving across the room, she made it to the door. Her heart was hammering so loudly, it was all she could hear. With every instinct in her body screaming at her, she gingerly reached out and pulled the door silently closed.
Turning around, she found all eyes on her. Eyes filled with tears, loss and fear. Everyone needed someone to console them, to tell them everything was going to be alright, to get them out of this mess. Someone had to step up, pull what was left of them together, and get them through this.
And that person, however unwilling on her part, was Quinn.
"Alright," Quinn said, surprised at the strength in her own voice.
"This is what we do."
