A/N: This is set just before Nationals in season three, just time-shifted to 2016, and the flashbacks are to the summer following season one.

RachelBerry SHE'S HERE!

FinnHudson Who's here? Finn, are you okay?

RachelBerry Quinn! Someone just reported seeing Quinn at the bus station!

Rachel didn't even reply, just ran down the stairs and exploded out of the house. Her fathers stared helplessly after her, but her exit had been so quick that they hadn't even had time to ask where she was going. Her car pealed out of the driveway and she was going at least double the speed limit the whole way. Parking at the bus station was sketchy at best, but she simply pulled up in front of the main entrance and left her car there. If Quinn was really back, there was no telling how long they had to catch up to her. It was the first sniff of her in two years, and Rachel wasn't about to let the chance get away.

She shouldered the doors open, inhaling the smells that always seemed to permeate the station – urine, mostly, and unwashed bodies. But among the people waiting for a ride and the people sleeping on the benches, one person stood out. She was dressed in white, a dress so bright that it was nearly blinding compared to her dingy surroundings. Her hair had gone from blonde to an unnatural shade of purple, and the piercings in her lip and nose were new. But there was no question – it was Quinn Fabray.

Rachel ran for her life, only noticing as she skidded to a halt that Quinn hadn't so much as taken a step since she'd been spotted. In fact, she actually met Rachel's appearance with a little smile that almost – but not quite – reached her eyes. Every instinct Rachel had told her to reach out and grab her one-time friend, but she held back. This wasn't the same Quinn – or at least it didn't look like her. "Quinn?" she managed in a shaky voice. "Is it really…are you back?"

Quinn's smile got a little wider. "I should have known it'd be you. My mom was supposed to be here to give me a ride to the house, but I guess she's got her phone turned off. And someone really needs to teach the people in this place what the word discretion means. If you're trying to sneak a pic of someone, maybe don't hold the phone pointed right at them, you know?"

She was speaking like nothing had happened, and Rachel went from curious to infuriated and back in the span of a breath. "Where the hell have you been? Where's Beth? Two years we looked for you, and you just…you brush it off like this? Like you've just been gone for the weekend and you're popping in for a visit?" This time she did reach out, grabbing Quinn's bare shoulders. Quinn's response was instant, and she grabbed Rachel's wrists to force her hands away.

"You don't get to touch me. Okay? And I don't have to answer your questions. I was away. Beth is fine, but she's not with me right now. The only reason I'm here is because I need to sign some legal stuff at my house, and then I'm getting the hell out of this town – and this time, I'm not coming back again. I never asked any of you to look for me, and I never wanted to be found. So turn around, get back in your car, and forget you ever saw me. You'll be happier that way, I promise, because there aren't any answers here. Not for you."

Stunned silent, Rachel actually took a step backward before she found her voice again. "How dare you? There are still posters of you in the post office, in the police station. Everyone mourned you, they thought you'd done something incredibly foolish like wander off and take your own life in some horrible act of postpartum depression. You don't get to just show up in this town and act like you don't owe us anything. A bad dye job and a bunch of new piercings doesn't change who you are or what you did-"

The murderous look in Quinn's eyes is enough to tell Rachel that she crossed a line that wasn't meant to be crossed. "Back the hell off of me, midget," she snapped. "You have no idea what I did, and you're never going to. After tonight I'm going to be in the wind, and maybe someday Beth will come and visit this shitty little town. But I can guarantee you I'll never be back again." Judy's voice floated up the stairs, and Quinn grabbed her single bag before pushing roughly past Rachel and skipping down to hug her mother. Rachel looked on, mouth agape, trying to process what was happening. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to find Quinn and bring her home to a hero's welcome, and instead she was bound and determined to disappear all over again.

The hell with that! She wouldn't allow it. Not until they all got some answers, and someone could prove that Beth was happy and healthy. Digging her phone from her purse, Rachel began messaging every single member of what had once been the New Directions.


By the time Judy's car pulled into the driveway of the Fabray home, almost half of the former glee club was gathered at the front door. Quinn took one look and cursed loudly, prompting a scandalized look from her mother that she pointedly ignored. "Do you want me to go somewhere else, Quinnie?"

"No," it came out as a breathy sigh. "They'd just follow us anyway. I'm sorry, Mom. I thought we could do this quietly, but I should have known Rachel would be on the phone to every damn person that she knew."

"They still care about you, that's all. It shook everyone up when you left."

"That doesn't give them the right to expect that I'll tell them anything." There was no choice but for her to confront them, though, so she patted her mother's shoulder and grabbed her bag from the back seat. "Go ahead inside. I'll take care of this – be in in a couple of minutes." Judy kissed her cheek and walked, head held high, past the crowd of high school students that had invaded her property. Quinn emerged a moment later, and she could almost hear the audible gasp that went up from the group.

"You can't be here," she shook her head. "This is private property, and no one invited you. So please do me a favour and just go away. I already went over all of this with Rachel, and I'm not going to tell you guys any more than I already told her." Quinn closed her car door and began walking toward the house, but this time the crowd didn't part. It solidified instead, leaving her trapped fifteen feet from her front door.

Not surprisingly, it was Santana that went for her throat. "Do you really think it's going to be that easy? That you're going to breeze into town and breeze back out, and never once have to explain what the hell happened? Think again, Fabray. Because we're not moving until those little lips start talking." She was enough of a bitch to actually do it, too, and they both knew it. But they hadn't fought for control of the Cheerios so expertly without Quinn giving just as good as she got.

"Yeah, I do think it's that easy, actually. Because despite what Berry thinks, and despite what you think, I don't owe you a single damn thing. I'm sorry you felt the need to look for me, and I'm sorry that you're all standing out here waiting for me to tell you some grand story about where I've been. Because I'm not going to thank you, and I've got no stories. Where I went isn't anyone's business but my own. I'm fine, and Beth is fine. And that's all you get to know. So you can either get away from my door, or I really will call the police to have you removed."

"You fucking bitch," Santana snarled. "You have no idea what you did. What you cost us. How much fell apart when you decided to pull your little Houdini impression. So you don't get to come back and dictate terms to us. You don't get to make demands, and you don't get to order us around. I'm only going to say it one more time. Start talking."

There was a long standoff, as Quinn stood with her bag on one shoulder and stared at Santana, who crossed her arms over her chest and refused to budge. The rest of the gathered glee club members stood silently, knowing that any chance they had of getting answers rested on Santana's shoulders. Almost three full minutes went by before Quinn sighed angrily. "We're not doing this here. Not in my house. You can all get your asses back to the school, and we'll do this there. And before you say something, Santana, like you're dying to, you can drive me there. I'm not going to run off, since I do actually have some things that need to get done tonight." She turned away, and then back one more time. "And stop calling me Quinn."