By complete coincidence, I found this Firefly fanvid set to Defying Gravity just the other day - .com/watch?v=MdXkGXD7gDc&feature=related. Aside from being completely awesome in its own right, I now randomly look at it when I want inspiration for this fic.

And speaking of Defying Gravity, I was alerted to a slight mistake with the lyrics last chapter, and now feel horribly embarrassed about it. The line 'close my eyes and believe' is actually 'close my eyes and leap.' So, my apologies.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Glee, Firefly, or any songs that you may recognise.


Elphaba: Part 2

Tina was in the grocery store, contemplating whether or not to by a punnet of strawberries (on the one hand, they were short on cash and needed to be practical; on the other hand . . . strawberries), when she saw the man.

Or more correctly, she saw his rather mesmerizing hash of blonde, curly hair. The rest of him became interesting a moment later, when she realized that he was crying over a mango.

Tina glanced back and forth, trying to spot who the man might belong to, but the fruit and veg section was empty except for them. Tina gnawed on her lip. Social propriety would demand that she put the strawberries down, edge away quietly, and leave him to it. But he looked so lonely and miserable just standing there, hunched into his grey sweater vest, staring at the mango like it had killed his kitty cat and then punched him in the face. She couldn't just leave him like that.

"Um," she began, approaching him cautiously. "E-excuse me sir, but. Are you okay?"

The man's head snapped up, and he looked at her in surprise. Then he ducked his head and started blinking rapidly. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine." He gave her a strained smile.

"Are you sure? I know it's none of my business, but you look very, um, bereft."

His expression softened into a real smile, though it still looked sad. "Thanks for your concern, but it's nothing terrible. Just one of those days."

She nodded sympathetically, adjusting her hold on the basket. This would be the polite time to move away- what if he started crying again? – but she found herself asking, "Is there anything I can do?"

The man chucked wetly, and shook his head. "Unless you happen to know a really cheap hotel nearby? I would have booked one in advance, but I left sort of quickly and left my phone on the kitchen bench, so . . ." he trailed off awkwardly, and for the first time she noticed the shabby travel bag by his feet.

"Sorry, but I don't really know this area that well. My friends and I are heading out of town this evening. We don't usually stick around in one place for long."

He smiled wistfully. "Must be nice, being out on the open highway."

"Yeah, though in our case it's more like the highway to hell," she joked brightly. Then she froze. Uh oh, too much information, she thought. Stupid! An illegal song reference and incriminating details all in one! Rachel will kill me if I get arrested in a grocery store . . .

But the man surprised her by laughing. "You know that song? It used to be one of my favourites. I mean," his voice dropped to a low whisper. "Not that I know the words anymore, or anything."

Relieved, she giggled. "My boyfriend really likes those guys. I mean, he used to."

"Well then your boyfriend has good taste." He winked at her, and she thought that he was pretty handsome for an older guy, now that he wasn't looking miserable. And he liked real music! Something about him made her feel at ease, and she found herself sticking out a hand. "My name is Tina."

He shook it graciously. "Will Schuester."

"It's good to meet you, Mr Schuester. So, um. What other songs have you forgotten the words to?"

For the first time, a real smile spread across his face, and Tina felt that this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


"I have a terrible feeling about this," Mercedes muttered as the three of them strode through the street. Rachel was in the middle, Puck and Mercedes were half a step behind on either side of her. It was their classic 'we aim to misbehave' walk, with touches of the 'you can't bring us down' formation. Choreography was essential in presenting a strong, unified front.

"Do you ever have any good feeling about anything?" Rachel demanded.

"Tater tots?" Puck suggested. Both girls shot him a staggering death glare, and Mercedes smacked him sharply upside the head before he could skitter away far enough.

"Don't start with me, boy," she warned.

"Kidding, I'm kidding! Geez."

Rachel sighed. So much for strong and unified. "Let's not think about what could go wrong. Our energy and attention could be far better utilised with other matters."

Their destination was on Badger Avenue, a tiny, inconspicuous-seeming coffee shop that was easy to ignore if you weren't looking for it. Rachel took a deep, fortifying breath as they approached – dealing with Ryan was always difficult. If it weren't for the fact that he was the most well-connected dealer in Ohio, she wouldn't come near him.

But he would do business with them, and Rachel knew they couldn't afford to be picky about this, especially now that the VA were on to them. In the first place, they rather desperately needed cash. In the second place, this music was burning a hole into the hidden compartment of her handbag.

The three of them entered the coffee shop, which was empty except for the young woman behind the counter. Rachel walked up to her and smiled winningly. "Good evening. My friends and I are looking for Mr Ryan, because . . ."

"In the back," the woman said curtly, jerking her head to the right. Slightly put off by the woman's attitude, but recovering admirably, Rachel nodded her thanks and made her way towards the back door, trusting that Puck and Mercedes were following close behind.

They entered a small, dimly lit room, which was occupied by four people. Two large men stood by the back wall, keeping a close watch over everything, while their boss, a blonde man in a suit, stood with his back to the door. He was talking to a short teenager with an unnatural head of hair, who looked both terrified and miserable. " . . . And next time, tell your agent to send someone with some actual finesse, or else I'll be sending him back a dead body. Is that understood, kid?"

He guy nodded, and scuttled towards the exit. He stopped short at the sight of the trio, staring up at the Rachel with wide eyes, until Puck growled a warning. He jumped like a spooked rabbit, and then slipped quickly through the door.

"Ah, Miss Berry and friends," Bryan Ryan spun around to face them with an oily smirk. "Another incompetent group of pubescents for me to deal with, how nice."

"As I recall, Mr Ryan, you practically begged us to take this job for you, so you are in no position to complain," Rachel said. "And if I may, your persistent compulsion to hire high schoolers like that boy, simply because they are cheap and easily suggestible, is just asking for incompetence."

The smirk widened into a nasty grin. "You always have something to say about everything, huh Berry? Such a big mouth, for such a little girl."

"Yes, I get that a lot," she replied nonchalantly. "It has always struck me as one of the most sincere compliments I could receive."

Ryan snorted in disgust, and moved around his desk so that it became a barrier between them. As if to reassert his power over their current situation. "Spoken like a true performer. Or ex-performer, I suppose. Tell me, does that brattish diva attitude make a life of crime difficult?"

Rachel bristled, but Mercedes cut in before she could snap back. "Can we cut to the chase here, Ryan? You're being a little too antagonistic for my liking today. Is there some kind of problem?"

He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers like a campy Bond villain. "I don't suppose you've seen the papers today, children?"

Rachel and Mercedes shared a brief, worried look as he continued. "Because I'm curious as to how you're gonna explain this one away with that big mouth of yours."

He threw a newspaper down on the desk between them. On the front page, in glaring bold letters, was the caption, "THEIVES IN THE NIGHT: Terrorists steal illegal document from high security."

Rachel snatched the paper up in horror, forgetting her previous conviction to stay cool and collected. "Terrorists? Are you serious?"

"'High security'?" Puck said incredulously. "It was a Goddamned library."

Mercedes scanned the article over Rachel's shoulder, then folded her arms and glared at Ryan. "So what? They obviously don't have any incriminating details. The dude who sold us out gave them the info too late."

"Maybe. Or maybe they have just enough evidence to link you crazy kids back to me. Not a risk I'm willing to take."

Rachel slammed the newspaper back down. "Are you saying . . ?"

"That's right, Princess. Deal's off."

"You can't do that! You have just as much invested in this as us!"

"Now see, that's where you're wrong, Berry. Unlike you poor little rich kids, who are out there floundering in the wilderness without Mommy and Daddy, I'm a businessman. I get deals like this all the time, and can afford to let something go if it's not worth the risk of bringing the VA to my doorstep."

"That's not fair!" Rachel ground out.

"Life's not fair, kiddies. Might as well get used to it now." He leaned back with an apologetic grin that wasn't sincere in the slightest. "Sorry. You might have better luck with another, less savvy businessman. I'm sure there are plenty of young, naive kids willing to cash in illegal smuggling, especially now that the laws are spreading all throughout the Midwest."

"You double-crossing, cowardly douchebag," Puck seethed, taking a step forward, his hands balled into fists.

Immediately, the two silent bodyguards were on either side of the desk, cracking their knuckles. They were both huge, even bigger than Puck, and it was clear he couldn't hope to take on both of them. Ryan didn't even twitch, just smiled benignly. "Oh, I wouldn't do that, Mohawk. They'll make a mess, you see, and that's not healthy in a food establishment."

A tense moment of silence passed. Puck didn't back down, prepared to bust some faces even if the laws of physics were against him. Mercedes held herself stiffly, ready to spring forward and mace the bastards' eyes out. Everyone looked to Rachel, waiting.

Eventually, she looked up from the paper and glared steadily at Ryan. "Puck, stop," she said quietly. "It's not worth it."

"But . . ."

"Let's go."

"Wise choice, little girl," Ryan said as Puck reluctantly backed away.

Rachel only glared at him. "You'll regret not cooperating. Opportunities like this don't come along very often."

"In your case, no." His smirk followed them out the door. "Enjoy your music, kids."


Puck ranted about "that fuckin' cowardly bastard, should'a turned him into a bloody blonde smear on the ground . . ." for three blocks straight, until Mercedes told him to shut up, or else she'd turn him into the VA herself. After that, he kept his complaints to a quiet grumbling, while the two girls walked slightly ahead.

"He ain't our only hope, by any stretch," Mercedes said. "What about Remington?"

Rachel shook her head sharply. "Too risky. He's involved with that Sylvester woman, and the last thing we need right now is her breathing down our necks."

"Tanaka then. He wouldn't dare blab to the VA."

"Tanaka has no idea of Tar- of its value. He'd underprice us horrifically."

"Seriously, at this point? I'm not sure I care. We need money, like, yesterday."

"Well I care!" Rachel said viciously, coming to a sudden halt in the middle of the sidewalk. "I care that this precious, beautiful piece of music is worth so much, but people will only see it as a commodity. A means to an end. And if we start thinking like that, if the very thing that we're fighting for becomes nothing more than . . . than a ten dollar bill, then why even bother." She folded her arms tightly, scowling. "We might as well just sell Elphaba, get jobs in a fast food chain, and listen to homogenous, synthesized VA tunes on the radio for the rest of our lives."

Mercedes dragged her to the side. "Christ, Rach, speak a little louder why don't you? The VA has spies everywhere. And stop preaching, 'cause I get it, okay? You know I care about freedom of expression and real music and all that just as much as you do."

Rachel sighed heavily. "I know, I know. But 'Cedes, just because we're now technically terrorists doesn't mean we can stoop to the level of every other crook in this state, who just wants to make a cheap buck. We have a purpose. A point to make."

"And we're gonna stick to that," Mercedes assured her. "But you can't survive on a purpose, Rachel. We need more."

"Like food," Puck piped up from behind them. "And you know what else I need? A gun. So the next time some smug prick tries to short-change us, I can shoot his balls off."

"Puck, for the last time, we are non-violent criminals," Rachel sighed. "Murder is another whole league of trouble that we don't need to get involved in."

"But . . ."

"Yeah, we don't need this argument right now," Mercedes said sharply. "Puck, shut up. Rachel – please try to be pragmatic about this?"

The shorter girl pursed her lips. "Fine. We'll . . . consider Tanaka. Or someone else. But I refuse to just give it away, so be prepared to fight for our cause!"

"Always am," Mercedes said, rolling her eyes as Rachel stomped off in the direction of Elphaba. "I swear she gets crazier every day."

"Maybe that worm Ryan had a point about her attitude," Puck muttered.

"I heard that!"


It was beginning to get dark by the time Elphaba once again came into view, and Rachel sighed with relief. After such a stressful afternoon with stupid Ryan and his stupid suit, she was ready to hit the road again. However, she caught sight of something that brought her to a sudden halt.

Tina was talking to a man. Rachel had never seen him before, but the two seemed very friendly, laughing together as he helped her pile bags into the luggage compartment. Beside them was another guy, who looked somewhat younger and obscenely tall. He was loading a huge box into the space, and seemed to be treating it delicately, as though there was something very heavy and valuable inside.

"What the hell? I don't remember scheduling passengers," Mercedes demanded.

"Who's the old guy chatting up Tina? Artie'll be pissed," Puck observed.

Rachel was already marching over. "Tina," she greeted without preamble as their conversation came to a startled halt. "Who are your new friends?"

"Oh, um, Rachel. You're back. Um . . . this is Mr Schuester. Mr Schuester, this is Rachel, our . . . ah . . . well she owns Elphaba."

"You can call me Will," the man said, offering his hand and a friendly smile. "I just ran into Tina here in the grocery store, and mentioned that I needed to go to Cincinnati. Since that's your direction, she was kind enough to offer me a ride there."

"Oh really?" Rachel pumped his hand until he winced, attempting to both smile at him and glare at Tina at the same time. "And what did Artie say about that, exactly?"

"Artie says it's cool," the young man in question said, wheeling up to them. "Since we're going that way anyway, and he said he'd pay."

"Oh, well. That's alright then." Rachel's smile widened to a blinding level. "Since we haven't been properly introduced, my name is Rachel Berry, and these two are Mercedes and Noah. We should reach Cincinnati in a couple of hours, though I'm afraid it will be a bit crowded."

"That's perfectly fine," he replied, trying to gently pry his hand out of her grip.

Behind her, Puck cleared his throat. "And what about that guy?"

Rachel turned her attention to the tall young man who hung awkwardly in the background. Up close, he looked even more freakishly huge, and he seemed sort of off-balance and nervous. Finally letting go of Schuester's hand, she advanced upon him with another vaguely predatory grin. He took a half-step back, and hastily said, "Finn Hudson. Um, that's my name."

Ignoring his clear nervousness, she seized his hand and shook it. "It's very nice to meet you, Finn Hudson. Are you going to Cincinnati as well?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I see. Well, I must apologise in advance if the drive there is a little tight. And you are awfully tall, so I imagine you might feel that quite acutely."

He gave a sheepish half-smile. "Yeah, I get that a lot. My friends used to call me Frankenteen."

Rachel laughed, and his smile widened slightly. It was a rather nice smile. But then Mercedes ruined the moment by saying, "Well Frankenteen, that's some luggage you got there."

The smile vanished, and he edged a bit closer to where the large box was visible in the luggage compartment. "Um, yeah. It's an expensive table, for my Mom. I'm delivering it to her." He fidgeted a moment, then said, "It's pretty fragile. Do you think it will be okay down there?"

Rachel and Mercedes glanced at each other, and then Rachel said, "It should be fine. Artie's a splendid driver, he'll be sure not to hit any potholes."

"Okay. Good. Um, I guess I'll get on board now?"

"Sure, we'll be leaving very soon. Make yourself comfortable."

He nodded, gave them both another tight smile, and quickly moved away. Once he was safely out of earshot, Mercedes muttered, "Great, another smuggler on board, with a totally different agenda. Just what we need."

"I wouldn't worry, 'Cedes," she replied. "He seems fairly harmless to me. Like, a poor, lost puppy dog. And besides, it's only a couple of hours' drive."

"You're just saying that 'cause he's cute."

"Mercedes! I'm a professional."

"Yeah the way you were eyeing him up was real professional," she said, smirking. "And anyway, it's the lost-looking ones you've got to watch out for, 'cause they're usually kinda desperate."

"Fine, then we'll watch out for him. And on the bright side, we now have money!"

"True enough, though after a couple hours on the road with us they might beg for a refund."

"Don't be ridiculous, we are a charming, friendly group of people. Now, is Quinn back yet?"

Ignoring Mercedes' exaggerated eye-roll, Rachel walked back to the front of the bus, and found their final passenger chatting to Artie. "Oh there you are, Quinn."

"Berry," the blonde girl acknowledged, giving Rachel a critical look over the top of her sunglasses. "Still rocking the bunnies, I see."

Rachel folded her arms over her sweater defensively. "You're very late, we were about to leave without you."

"No, we weren't," Artie said, already hefting himself into the driver's seat with Puck's assistance. "Since this hunk of green ain't going anywhere without me behind the wheel."

Quinn smirked. "Thankyou, Artie. I'm glad someone around here has a sense of courtesy."

While Rachel seethed, Puck glanced up and gave Quinn a lavish wink. "Yep, we give the best service in the state. Lookin' good, by the way."

He was rewarded with a chilling glare. "I was not including you in that, Puckerman. Also, I believe this trip will be much nicer for everyone if you don't speak to me."

He affected a wounded look. "But I'm such a brilliant conversationalist."

Mercedes walked up before things could degenerate further. "Alright, let's get this show on the road. Quinn, it's good to see you again. I missed having some civilised company around."

"A-hem."

The blonde smiled back at her, genuinely friendly this time. "And you. I have some new magazines, if you're interested."

Mercedes grinned. "You are my new best friend."

"A-hem."

"Oh, Rachel, can you get Quinn's bag? Thanks." The two girls boarded the van, chatting in runway language.

Pouting, Rachel picked up Quinn's stupid pink suitcase and threw it into the luggage compartment. It narrowly missed Finn's mystery big box, and she regarded it curiously for a moment, wondering what he really had in there. She hoped it wouldn't bring him – or them, for that matter – too much trouble. He seemed like such a nice young man, but even nice guys had their secrets.

Tina popped her head out. "Are you ready, Rachel? Everyone's on board."

Rachel smiled and nodded. "Coming." She slammed the compartment door shut, and hopped in beside Artie. "Okay, let's get out of here.


They drove for an hour and a half. The people in the back made light conversation to pass the time, and gradually got to know each other. Quinn and Will Schuester managed to find some common ground regarding the education system, and were soon chatting like old friends. Meanwhile, Tina and Mercedes drew Finn into a friendly game of poker, which he was terrible at, but seemed to enjoy nonetheless. Even Mercedes had to admit to herself that his awkward but friendly manner was somewhat endearing.

"So do you guys like, all sleep in here?" he asked, looking around at the interior decor after the girls cleaned out his stash of mini-Mars Bars. "I mean, it's a big van, but doesn't it get a little crowded when you all need to lie down at once?"

Tina shrugged. "Not really. There's enough fold-out beds, and we're all used to each other's close company by now. Besides, Puck, Mercedes and Rachel usually sleep outside during the summer."

"Wow. So it's like a permanent camping trip?"

"Pretty much," she laughed.

"What about showers and stuff?"

"There's plenty of public showers and change rooms in the cities, so we use those most of the time. Or a campsite. Or we'll hire out a motel room."

"That's pretty awesome. What do you do for money?"

The girls exchanged a look, but before either one of them could reply, Quinn interjected. "I do freelance business consulting."

Will, who was listening to the conversation, raised his eyebrows. "That sounds impressive. I have to say, you don't seem the type for this lifestyle."

She tossed her blonde hair. "It's more a part-time thing where I'm concerned. And anyways, being on the road opens up more opportunities for me."

"Also, you love us," Mercedes teased, elbowing her in the side. Quinn sighed theatrically.

"I suppose you're tolerable, for crazy people. Well," she shot a pointed look at the front of the bus. "Most of you are."

They laughed, and Rachel glared back at Quinn through her eye mirror. "I know you're laughing at me!" she called out.

"We love you, Rachel!" Tina replied, grinning hugely.

Rachel huffed, and went back to glaring out the window. She was tempted to go and join in the socialising, but someone had to stay up front and make sure Artie didn't start humming to some song or another while there were guests in the back. Though she too felt like bursting into song (she was really feeling the urge for some Bon Jovi), her worried thoughts kept the musical inclinations at bay.

Instead, she distracted herself with thoughts of how to possibly sell their prize now that Ryan had fallen through. Even if she could resign herself to the fact that no one would pay what it was truly worth, they at least needed enough compensation to keep them going until their next job. It was depressing, but Mercedes was right; they had to be practical.

Sighing, she absently watched Puck's motorbike in the rearview mirror, wishing they could bust out into Living on a Prayer. Why was the world so cruel?

She was startled out of these contemplations by her handbag, which started vibrating. She dug her cell phone out of it and frowned at the unknown caller, before hitting the call button and pressing it to her ear. "Hello?"

The line was bad. Through the static, she could just make out a high, nasally voice saying, "Is this Rachel Berry?"

"May I ask who's calling?"

"Someone with information."

Her eyes widened. Artie was shooting her strange looks, and she flapped her hand at him. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean."

A slow, wheezy chuckle. "It's to do with your . . . interesting cargo."

Rachel's heart slammed into her chest. "Who are you?"

"Just a friendly observer. So do I have your attention?"

She bit her lip, then said, "Hold on one moment." Covering the phone with her hand, she hissed at Artie, "Pretend we hit a bunny."

"What the hell?"

"We need a reason to pull over, so pretend we hit a bunny or something!"

He shook his head. "What . . ? Ok, look, there's a gas station just up ahead. I'll say we need to refill. That do?"

She nodded. In eye mirror, she noticed a couple people were giving her strange looks, including Mr Schuester. To cover, she lifted the phone back to her ear and said brightly, "Oh it's so nice for of you to call, Daddy, I haven't spoken to you in ages!"

The guy on the other end sucked in a breath. "Call me 'Daddy' again."

Rachel blanched, and pulled the phone away in disgust.

Artie pulled into the tiny gas station, announcing, "Okay, people, bathroom break. Tina, let's refill this baby." People tumbled out, stretching and yawning, though Finn glanced at Tina with a worried expression.

"We're not gonna be too long, right? It's just, I kinda have this thing . . ."

"Five minutes at the most," she reassured him.

"Uh . . . ok."

Ignoring Artie's questioning eyes, Rachel disembarked and wandered around to the other side of Elphaba. "Now, what's this all about?"

The mystery caller cleared his throat. "You need a buyer for that sheet music. I have one for you."

"And what makes you think we don't already have one?"

"A buyer who will pay the right amount, and respect its value?"

Rachel frowned. "Say I'm interested. What do you get out of this? A cut of the payment, or something more?"

There was a long pause. Then, "I want to do it for you, Rachel. That's all."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm in love with you, Rachel."

"WHAT? Who the hell are you?"

"I've been in love with you for so long, you have no idea," he gushed. "I've been following your exploits for some time now, listening to the rumours . . . I've always wanted to know what you looked like, and then you walked – no, no, sauntered – into that room and it turned out you were so much hotter than I could have imagined . . ."

"Wait, wait a minute. When I walked in . . ?" Something clicked in her memory. She gasped. "You're that kid! The one Ryan was tormenting earlier! Were – were you eavesdropping?"

The guy stopped rambling for a moment, as if realising his sudden slip. "Don't you dare tell anyone. If my mom found out, I'd be toast."

Rachel wanted to thump her head against the side of the van, out of disgust or frustration or just plain bewilderment. "I'm going to hang up now. Don't bother trying to call again."

"Wait!" he shrieked. "I wasn't lying about the offer, Rachel. I'm very well connected, and one of my connections just happens to be someone who'd really appreciate Tartini."

"Not. Interested," she ground out.

He fell into a sullen silence, but just as she was about to hang up, said, "Fine. Be like that. I'm sure the VA will appreciate my anonymous tip-off."

She felt her stomach drop, but forced her voice to remain steely. "That wouldn't do any good. They'd never catch us, for starters, and even if they did there's no way they could find anything."

"Maybe you can hide some sheet music easily. But what about your other cargo?"

"Other cargo?" she echoed.

"I know you're harbouring fugitives, Rachel."

" . . . What? That's ridiculous. I don't know where you're getting your information, but it's completely incorrect."

"There's no point trying to deny it. You picked up two passengers in Columbus, isn't that right? Well they're wanted by the law on very serious charges."

The heavy feeling of dread in Rachel's stomach increased. Will 'Mr-Nice-Guy' Schuester. Poor, scared, dopey Finn. Of course they were too good to be true. "What charges?"

"I don't know, it's all very hush-hush, even for a well-connected guy like me. But if you don't cooperate, then I'll make a call to the VA and tell them you're on the road to Cincinnati. They'll find you soon enough, that van really sticks out."

"What exactly do you want?"

He giggled. "Not much, beautiful. Just tell me a few nice, dirty things in that sultry voice of yours, and we'll call it even."

"You're blackmailing me for phone sex? Are you for real?"

"What's this about blackmail and phone sex?" Puck's voice interrupted, as he appeared suddenly around the van. At the ashen look on her face, his expression turned stony, and he snatched the phone away. "Hey, who the fuck is this?" A beat. "No, I won't give Rachel back, 'cause I don't think you're saying things a lady needs to hear. Now – hey, listen you little bastard . . . hey!" He glared at the cell. "He hung up."

Rachel slumped against the van, her brain working furiously. The kid could be bluffing. After all, she'd seen him, she could just as easily turn him in to the authorities in retaliation. But all the same . . .

"Rachel, what's going on? Who was that little prick?"

She pushed herself to a standing position. "Puck, it appears our guests are not all that they seem."


Quinn leaned her head against the window, watching as Tina refilled the engine. Something was off. Cincinnati was only another forty minutes away at the most, why did Artie feel the need to stop now?

"Quinn, you alright?" Will asked. The two of them were the only ones not to disembark. She had to say that she enjoyed having someone mature to talk to in this van, even if he seemed to be a little . . . unhappy under the surface. Being shrewd and perceptive – necessary skills for a businesswoman, and more importantly, a socialite – she was good at reading people. And she could tell that both their guests were hiding something.

With Will it seemed to be mostly an emotional thing, as if he'd recently been through some kind of crisis and was simply pasting a smile on over his depression. The fact that he'd rather go with a group of young crazy people to Cincinnati rather than take than an official mode of transport clearly indicated some mental and/or emotional instability. But overall, he seemed harmless.

Finn was another story. Mostly he just had the scared, lost look of someone who was very clearly out of their depth. He seemed open and friendly for the most part, but she'd notice that now and then he'd catch himself, and pull back slightly as if forcing himself not to make any connections, despite instinctively wanting to. Whatever his secret was, Quinn had a feeling it was more serious than Will's. She wondered what he was trying to escape from.

All this passed through Quinn's mind in a heartbeat. She smiled at Will and simply said, "I'm fine. Just not a fan of gas station restrooms."

He laughed in response, and nodded. "I'm definitely with you on that one. There was this one time . . ."

A sudden bout of yelling distracted them. It was Rachel-yelling, which Quinn usually ignored, but there was something unusually vicious about it that made her sit up a little straighter, frowning. She glanced out the window, and was alarmed to find both Rachel and Puck facing down Finn in an apparent confrontation.

She and Will exchanged a look, and hurried outside.

". . . Don't know what you're talking about," Finn was saying.

"Finn, I understand that you are scared, and I will go out on a limb and guess that you are not exactly used to being in trouble. But it's clear that there is some kind of trouble, and we are now involved in it, and if you come clean now, it will be better for everyone." Rachel stood with her hands on her hips, a hobbit-sized force of pure determination. Rather than be placated in any way, Finn only looked more defensive, and terrified. Though, that could have been because Puck was looming behind Rachel, cracking his knuckles threateningly.

Quinn grasped Mercedes' arm. "What is going on?"

"I came in late to the party, but apparently Frankenteen here is a fugitive. Or maybe a spy; Rachel hasn't been clear with the accusations."

Well, that it didn't take long for that damaging secret to explode. Typical.

Meanwhile, Finn was backing up towards the van, a panicked look on his face. "Seriously, I'm not a bad guy! I just want to get to Cincinnati, that's all, I swear."

"The evidence would indicate otherwise," Rachel said, also advancing.

Will cleared his throat and took a step forward. Before Quinn could warn him to stay out of his, he said, "Um, guys, perhaps we should all calm down a little?"

Puck threw him a threatening look. "Stay put, man. Your interrogation is next."

"What? I have no idea what's going on!"

"To be fair, neither do I," Mercedes cut in, folding her arms and looking at Rachel. "I mean I know this guy, at least, an agenda, but a couple hours ago you were convinced it wasn't a threat to us, right?"

"Agenda?" Will frowned.

"No, no agenda!" Finn insisted.

"I . . . received a phone call," Rachel said, ignoring him. "I was told that we were harbouring fugitives, and that the VA would be alerted if I didn't comply with . . . a certain request."

She was immediately bombarded with questions, but rose her voice to drown them out, "Now, he could have been bluffing, but I can't risk that without finding out for sure. So, Finn – I need to have a look in that box of yours'."

The boy went deathly white. "No. No, please, you can't do that. I . . . I won't let you!"

Rachel and Puck exchanged a look, and the next second Finn was being tackled to the ground. Schuester jerked forward, but seemed to think better of it at the last second. The rest of them hung back, holding their breath as Mercedes and Rachel opened up the luggage compartment and dragged Finn's large box out of it.

"No . . . let me go . . . you don't know what you're doing!" Finn struggled against Puck, and the mohawked boy had to struggle to keep him pinned. He was the strongest, but Finn had both height and sheer desperation to his advantage. "Please!"

"I'm sorry, Finn, but this is best for everyone," Rachel said, somewhat patronizingly (but that was her default tone of voice). Then, with the help of Tina, Mercedes, and a wrench, she managed to pry the lid loose; after an appropriately dramatic pause, she kicked it off.

Everyone leaned forward a little, curious in spite of themselves. At first, there was only a stunned silence. And then . . .

"Oh, my God," Rachel said, quite calmly. "It's a body."

They clustered around and peered inside, incredulous, only to find that she was right.

Inside the box was a boy. His skeletal frame was curled into a tight foetal position, eyes closed, and his face deathly pale. He had delicate, almost feminine features, and was dressed in a sombre black outfit. He did indeed look like a corpse.

"Well. That's something you don't see every day," Artie quipped.

"OhmyGodYOU STOWED A DEAD BODY IN OUR VAN!" Rachel shrieked.

"Rachel!" Mercedes said sharply. "Look."

They all looked, and realised that the boy was actually breathing, so, not a corpse. And not only that, but he was beginning to stir. His eyelids fluttered open, his limbs slowly untwisted themselves from the cramped position, and his eyes – a pale, blue-green colour – sharpened to awareness.

Then he saw the thong of unfamiliar faces standing round, and let out a high, piercing shriek of terror that made everyone leap back a few paces in shock.

Meanwhile, Finn took advantage of Puck's slack grip, and wrenched himself away. He scrambled forward, pushing through the throng of spectators, and knelt by the boy. "Hey, hey! Kurt. It's me, it's Finn. Do you remember me?" he reached up and gently grasped the kid's thin shoulders, trying to stop his hysterical flailing. "Kurt?"

Slowly, the boy – Kurt – calmed down and focused. Recognition dawned in his eyes. "F-Finn?"

"Yeah, dude. It's me."

They watched Kurt absorb this for a moment, and then, his face creased and he began to tremble violently. "Finn, you can't be here, they'll catch you and – and they'll hurt, and they'll make me do things that hurt and I can't, I can't do it anymore, please you have to go . . ."

"Shh, shh. It's alright, they're not here. We're far away now, we're safe, and they can't hurt you." He pulled Kurt out of the box and wrapped his arms around him tightly. With shaky arms, Kurt clung to him and buried his face in Finn's broad shoulder.

"Safe?" he whispered.

"Yeah."

"Then . . . where's Dad?" he asked, his voice muffled and broken. "I w-want my Daddy."

As Finn only closed his eyes and only held on tighter, Rachel stepped forward. Everyone else was still frozen in shock. "What is this?" she asked softly.

Finn opened his eyes and looked up at her. "This is my brother."


Artie had no idea what was going on, how he ought to react, or why there was suddenly a traumatised, androgynous boy falling out of their luggage compartment. Given that, it was almost a relief when the gas station owner finally spotted the mass freakout that was happening right outside, thought they were lunatics, and chased them off with a shotgun.

At least he forgot to make them pay for the gas.

They decided to continue this confrontation elsewhere, so everyone climbed back into the van with a silent, subdued air. Finn guided his brother towards the back – still trying to keep him calm – and kept a protective arm around his shoulders as they pulled away.

After ten minutes of driving in total silence, Rachel asked him to turn off into a dirt road, which lead up to an old, unused shed. He parked behind it, keeping out of sight of the main road.

"Keep an eye out," Rachel murmured, and he nodded in understanding.

"Don't even think about making a run for it," Puck was saying, looming over the two brothers with his arms folded.

Quinn glared at him. "Puck, you're scaring them."

"Good!"

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Stop that. And don't look so terrified, Frankenteen, we're not gonna shoot you."

"What are you gonna do with us, then?" Finn asked quietly.

"Well first and foremost, get some answers," Rachel said as she walked up to them.

He avoided her gaze, and didn't say anything.

She sighed and said, "Look, Finn, we're not the bad guys. It's obvious you have some . . . issues . . . and we're sympathetic to that. But we can't help unless you tell us what's going on."

Finn looked wary, but clearly recognised that he had no choice in the matter. He glanced down at Kurt, who was gazing vacantly into his lap, looking completely disengaged from his current environment. "Outside? I don't want him to have another panic attack, but . . ."

"Of course. Tina will stay with him, won't you Tina?"

The Asian girl nodded, and sat up next to Kurt. "Hi, do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?"

He didn't answer, but blinked slowly and reached out to touch her hair, apparently fascinated. Finn unwrapped himself from Kurt, squeezed his shoulder and said, "I'll be back in a moment, ok?"

Kurt gave a tiny nod, still distracted by the blue streaks in Tina's hair. Sighing, Finn followed Rachel outside, along with almost everyone else.

Artie stayed put, but kept an eye on the proceedings. This was one explanation he didn't want to miss.


"Well, it kind of started about five years ago. Before all the new laws and stuff about music. It was just after Kurt's dad and my mom married."

"You're step-brothers?"

"Yeah. My Dad died when I was a baby, and Kurt . . . well, similar deal. So our parents met, they fell in love, and got married. Anyway, we were both in our school's show choir and stuff –"

"Oh, I love show choir!" Rachel said. At everyone's collective glare, she cleared her throat. "Sorry. Continue."

"Um . . . anyway. So we both liked music, but Kurt . . . he was really good. Like, insanely good. He had this huge range, and everyone made a big deal out of it, even if people teased him for sounding like a girl. School was kind of hard for him, you know? But, he didn't care, 'cause he knew that he was gonna be a star one day.

"Then the laws were passed and he was – well, furious. I mean, we both were, but him especially. He started posting all these videos of himself singing on the internet in protest, even though it would get him into trouble. Then someone from the VA came to our house, and we thought they were gonna arrest him or send him to juvie or something – but he said that they'd seen the videos, and were really impressed. He wanted Kurt to train at their music school, and then get him to work for the VA company.

"Kurt didn't want to at first, but then decided that, maybe if they were interested in his voice, they wanted to incorporate real music into their stuff again. Or he thought that he could reform them, somehow. But mostly I think he was just desperate to sing, so, he went to their school."

"We weren't able to see him. They didn't tell us where the place was, apparently for security reasons – they'd had problems with sabotage and stuff, I think – and for a while we could only send letters. At first Kurt seemed happy – he liked the challenging lessons, and liked being appreciated for his voice. Then after a while the letters stopped. We thought maybe he was just busy, but the weeks stretched on, and then months, and we still had no word. Burt – his dad – started getting worried, and began trying to investigate.

"Then, we finally got a letter. But it wasn't from Kurt, it was from the VA. It basically said that we couldn't see Kurt for a while, so stop trying.

"Burt was pissed. He and Kurt are really close, and no one was gonna tell him he couldn't see his own kid. He and Mom started rallying against the VA, getting support, basically doing anything they could to get Kurt back. But then one of their protests turned violent, and they were arrested. I was there too, but Burt told me to run away before they could arrest me too. I . . . haven't seen either of them since."

Here, Finn's voice cracked slightly. Will, who was closest, put his hand on Finn's shoulder in support. After taking a deep breath, he continued.

"So I had, like, no clue what to do. Mom and Burt were gone, and Kurt was still missing, and I was basically his only hope. But then I was contacted by some organisation, who knew about other young singers being taken away by the VA and not coming back. They told me that if I gave them money, they could infiltrate the place and get Kurt out. I gave them everything I could, because I knew Burt would pay anything to get Kurt back.

"So it worked. I met them in Columbus, and they gave me Kurt. He'd been given some kind of drug, which made him sleep for days. It was due to wear off tonight, and I'd planned to be in the next city by then."

"So you put him in a box?" Mercedes couldn't resist asking. "Didn't you think that might be a little dangerous?"

"It had air holes!" he said defensively.

"I didn't see any."

"They were just little air holes!"

Quinn cleared her throat and said, "All the same, was it really necessary?"

Finn sighed and said, "The guys who got them out, they told me that the VA knew he was missing, and would be looking for him everywhere. I couldn't risk them someone recognising him in the Columbus or on the way to Cincinnati.

"So, now we're both fugitives. I don't care what happens to me, not anymore, but I can't let him go back to that place. I don't know what they did to him, but . . . well, you saw how he was when he woke up! It's like he's . . . damaged somehow. I just. I need to keep him safe. I'm all he's got now."

There was a long pause as everyone absorbed this information. Then Will cleared his throat and said, "That's . . . quite a story."

"And this thing is now a lot more serious than I thought," Rachel said, frowning thoughtfully.

Finn's head snapped up. "You're not gonna turn us in, are you? I'm sorry we got you involved in all this, but we can just get off in the closest city and get out of the state, you'll never have to see us again . . ."

"We could, you know," Puck said. "I'll bet there's a reward."

"Shut it, Puckerman."

"What? It makes sense!"

"We are not turning them in," Quinn said. "Rachel, tell me that's not what you're thinking."

The other girl looked up. "Hmm? Oh no, of course not! In fact, you guys are exactly what we need!"

Blank silence. "Um . . . Rach?" Mercedes said. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't you see, Mercedes? This is the purpose we've been waiting for! An actual lead, on how to bring the VA down!"

"Oh, Lord," Quinn muttered, while everyone began to protest.

"Look, I just want to keep my brother safe, we don't need to cause any more trouble . . ."

"We're just trying to get by, Rachel, we can't afford to make waves right now . . ."

"Hello, am I the only one remembers that we have some stolen goods that need selling?"

". . . I really should have just got a room for the night. Or taken a public bus . . ."

"This is unfair . .!"

"GUYS!" Artie suddenly barked from up the front. "We have a problem."

Rachel scrambled up to the front. "What?"

He pointed out towards the main road, where three black vans were stealthily inching up towards them. "You're secret admirer wasn't kidding about the tip-off."


Will was confused. Somehow the evening had begun with him leaving his wife, and now he was on the run from the authorities in a green van, with a bunch of college-aged smugglers, a clueless fugitive, and his traumatised brother. Somehow in his effort to escape his personal problems, he'd ended up headfirst in a situation that was much worse, and so, so far out of his control. Sort of like Finn, he supposed, except Will was clinging to the peripheral of this whole mess rather than being at its very centre.

Well, that's what he got for breaking down in tears in a Vietnamese grocery store.

And now, there was really nothing for him to do but hold on tighter and just go with it. So for the second time that night, Will found himself clambering back into the van in a panicky rush, while Rachel hissed instructions at their driver to go, go, now!

"Black and blue, black and blue, black . . . blue?" Kurt was muttering to himself in the back seat, and in their absence had plaited all the vivid indigo streaks in Tina's hair. He stopped as soon as Finn returned, however. "Not safe anymore?"

"Don't worry, Artie'll get us out of this," Tina reassured him. Right on time, the engine kicked into life and he began to pull away.

"Quickly, quickly," Rachel chanted. "We'll have to cut across the paddock."

"Yeah, I know . . ."

A gunshot tore through the air. Everyone jumped about a foot out of their seats, and at least half of them yelped. Will's heart thumped against his chest. Oh Jesus, it just got very, very bad.

"Looks like they ain't messing around," Artie said, in a remarkable calm tone of voice. "Shit's about to get real, people."

"No shit, really?" Puck snapped.

"What do we do?" Quinn said sharply, one hand on Kurt's shoulder as he huddled into Finn.

Rachel watched in quiet dread as the figures in black began to advance upon the car. One of them called out, "Everyone come out now, and don't give us any trouble or the next shot will not be a warning."

"Yeah, like that's going to happen," Rachel said, glaring through the window. "Just drive, Artie. Cut across the paddock, mow right through them, I don't care. Let's just get out of here now."

"You got it."

The engine roared to life for the second time, and Elphaba jerked into motion. Artie roughly manoeuvred her into position, then accelerated sharply – right into the path of the VA. Confronted with the van's sudden, piercing headlights, they winced. Then they realised that it wasn't stopping, and leapt out of the way.

"Don't kill them!" Rachel shrieked.

"Mixed signals much?" he complained, but made sure he didn't actually hit the bastards. Even if it would be worth, like, a gajillion points.

"Everyone either buckle up or hold on!" Puck yelled as the van swerved past the black VA cars. One of them skidded against her side, causing her to rattle violently, almost jerking a couple of people out of their seats. Then he spotted something out the window that made his eyes go wide. "Oh, shit . . . GET DOWN!"

Everyone in the back ducked, and a flurry of bullets ripped into Elphaba. Quinn, Will and Finn screamed, Tina and Puck swore loudly, and Kurt whimpered. Will's ears were ringing with the lingering sound of gunfire, and the roaring white noise of adrenaline. He was quite sure that he was going to die any minute now.

"Boy, it sure would be nice if we had a gun right now, don'cha think!" Puck bellowed.

"Don't start with me, Puckerman!"

Oh yes, they were all definitely going to die.

Up front, Rachel chanted with increasing volume, "Faster, faster, faster would be better!"

"I'm doing all I can, woman!" Artie yelled back as the van continued to speed up.

"Actually, faster would be a lot better." Mercedes said, raising her head slightly to look out the back window. "They're following us!"

"Then we'll just have to lose them."

Artie finally reached the main highway again and swerved sharply. Then he accelerated once more, and they rocketed down the highway, leaving the VA cars far behind.


It took less than five minutes for the VA to be out of sight, but Artie continued to speed along the highway until Will was sure they were no longer in Ohio. Gradually, they began to uncurl themselves from the floor, or each other, and dazedly tried to regain a sense of equilibrium.

"Okay," Rachel breathed. "Okay, I think we're good now. Artie, well done."

"No prob," he said, still stuck in his little bubble of driver zen. Will wanted some of that zen.

"Is everyone alright?" she demanded. "No injuries?"

Mercedes did a quick headcount, and reported back. "Everyone seems more or less intact."

"Says you," Quinn muttered. "My nerves are destroyed, so I can't tell for sure what the damage is."

While the others bickered, Will looked over at Finn and Kurt, who were both silent. "Finn? You okay?"

The tall boy nodded jerkily. He was still holding Kurt, who had yet to remove his face from Finn's lap, and was trembling all over.

Quinn also observed this, and called out, "Guys, I think we should stop for a while. Get our bearings, discuss what the hell we're gonna do now, you know."

"Where are we, anyway?"

"West Virginia," Artie replied. "About fifty minutes out of Parkersburg."

"I agree with Quinn," Rachel said. "Let's stop somewhere for the night."

Their home for the night turned out to be outside an old church, because even though they were no longer in Ohio (and hopefully the VA thought they still were), they still wanted to keep off the highway. Just in case.

They clustered around a small campfire, talking quietly and munching on some barbeque stuff Tina had bought earlier. Will stared despondently at his hamburger and remembered that he'd watched her buy that stuff. God, it felt like a lifetime ago.

"Hey." The girl in question sat down beside him, offering him a Pepsi. He accepted it gratefully. "Rough day, huh?"

"You could definitely say that," he replied, popping the can open. "It's a little worrying how much this seems not to bother you guys, though." He looked over at Puck, who had procured a guitar from one of Elphaba's hidden compartments, and was now plucking at it while Mercedes, Rachel and Artie talked quietly amongst themselves.

"Yeah, well – we're kinda used to rough days."

"I don't know how you do it," he admitted.

"I guess it's the only way we know how to live now," she said with a shrug. "Look, I – I wanted to apologise. It's my fault you've been though all this crap today."

He smiled gently. "Don't be sorry. You were just trying to help, and that meant a lot to me. Still does, actually."

"Really? Even after everything?"

"Really."

She ducked her head, smiling. "Well anyways. We'll be passing through a city tomorrow, so you can get off there and take another bus back to Cincinnati or wherever. One that's not, you know, on the highway to hell."

He chuckled. "Right. Thanks, Tina. I know this day has been weird and scary, but it was certainly something I'll never forget."

She grinned, and wandered back over to Artie. They all looked happy. It was really quite amazing.

Someone shifted behind him. "You know, you don't have to leave."

Will sighed. "Yeah, I do. I'm not cut out for this life, Quinn."

She took Tina's vacated seat. "None of us really are."

"Even Rachel?"

A wry smile flitted over her pretty face. "Especially Rachel. She's just trying to get back the life she really wants, by any means necessary."

"I . . . I get it, Quinn. I really do. Music used to be my life too, you know. And I think it's fantastic that you guys are willing to fight so hard for it, but to sacrifice so much? Being constantly hunted and persecuted? I couldn't do that."

"Finn couldn't either, I'm sure. But he is anyway, to protect his brother."

Will glanced back at the van, to where Kurt and Finn were settling down for the night. "He's a strong kid."

"True, but he needs support. Someone to trust, or else neither of them will survive. He trusts you."

He shrugged. "Don't know why. I'm not the most reliable person."

Quinn was silent for a moment. Then she said, "We're all running from something, Will. But being with people, with friends . . . it can sometimes make you feel like you're running towards something instead."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Sage advice."

"I'm a consultant, it's in the job description."

Will laughed quietly. "Well I'll keep it in mind."

"See that you do. Goodnight, Will."


The others were all outside, sitting around the fire. Finn could see it flickering outside the window, and felt suddenly, incredibly alone. Sighing, he clambered up to where his stepbrother lay, huddled in Tina's blankets.

"Hey. I know you're awake," he said to the back of Kurt's head.

Kurt's shoulders hunched inward for a moment, before he sighed and rolled over. Once again, Finn was struck by how small and pale he looked, his eyes sunken and wary.

"Sorry about the t-shirt," he said, sitting on the edge of the bunk. "I know you hate stuff from Target."

Kurt wrinkled his nose and plucked at the baggy red shirt Finn had given him to wear in place of that awful black suit. "Polyester," he muttered. "Yuck."

It was so much like his old self that Finn was momentarily speechless. He took a deep breath and tried to smile. "Are you feeling any better?"

Kurt shrugged one shoulder, causing the shirt to nearly slip off. "Sleepy. But . . . can't sleep." He sniffed, and turned his face into the pillow. "I miss Dad," he whispered.

Finn hesitated, then reached out to hold Kurt's hand. "I know, man. I miss him too."

"And your Mom?"

"Yeah . . . God yes. But we'll see him again soon, don't worry."

"Liar," he said calmly. "They're gone."

Finn squeezed his hand tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

For the first time, Kurt looked up at him directly. He frowned slightly, as if puzzled. "You're not gone. "

"No. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

"You came and got me. I didn't think you would."

Finn leaned over and gave him a tiny, crooked smile. "Well, you're an idiot."

Kurt blinked, and then his lips also quirked into the ghost of a smile. Then he surprised Finn by hauling himself up and wrapping his arms around his neck. Finn hugged him back tightly, enveloping the fragile limbs and sparrow-thin shoulders, wanting desperately to give his brother a sense of safety and security. Wanted him to forget the years of darkness and loneliness, and remind him that he wasn't alone. I'm not going anywhere.

"Sing something," Kurt whispered, his face buried in the crook of Finn's neck. "Please."

"Like what?"

"Something you like. Nothing rap though. You can't rap."

Finn chuckled and slowly lowered him back to the bed, tucking the covers around him. "Says you." He made to brush Kurt's bangs back off his forehead, but then remembered that Kurt hated people touching his hair. So he instead brushed his thumb in slow, rhythmic patterns over his brow, just like his Mom used to do when he couldn't sleep. After a moment's thought, he began to sing the first song that came to his head.

"Oh, why d'you look so sad?
Tears are in your eyes
Come on and come to me, now
Don't be ashamed to cry
Let me see you through
'Cause I've seen the dark side too."

As he crooned softly, Kurt's eyes began to drop shut. Finn felt his heart constrict at how childish he looked. He'd always been small, yes, and kind of fragile-looking, but he'd still been one of the strongest, most stubborn people Finn knew. He hoped to God that that person was still in there somewhere.

"When the night falls on you
And you don't know what to do
Nothing you confess
Could make me love you less
I'll stand by you
I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you . . ."

Kurt had fallen asleep by the time the song finished. Finn adjusted the covers again, and reluctantly pulled away.

"You're a good singer," Rachel Berry said. He turned around and saw her standing by the door, her hands clasped in front of her.

Finn shrugged. "I did show choir. I'm not totally useless."

"Quite the opposite, I'd imagine." She fiddled with the hem of her sweater for a moment. "Look, Finn. I just wanted to say that I'm not planning on using you or your brother as a tool to bring down the VA."

He frowned. "But you said . . ."

"I know, and I apologise. Sometimes I can get a little caught up in my own concerns and don't immediately think about what I say. But I do understand that Kurt is very hurt by whatever happened to him, and your first priority is to keep him safe. Just know that – although I imagine you might want to go as far away as possible – you are both welcome here."

"Why? If you don't want to use us, then why bother keeping a couple of fugitives around? I mean, you saw what happened with the . . . car chase and . . . bullets and stuff."

Rachel was quiet for a moment, then said, "My parents were taken away from me by the VA, because they protested too much. For my sake. I've been there, Finn, I know what it's like to suddenly be left all on your own with nothing but a purpose to keep you going. If it weren't for my friends – Mercedes, Artie and Tina, even Puck – I wouldn't have been able to keep fighting." She smiled, a little sadly. "So if you have nowhere else to go and need that support, we are happy to offer it to you."

Finn didn't know what to say. "I . . . um. Thanks."

"No problem." There was a pause, and the sound of Puck's guitar filled the silence. It was a familiar tune, one he hadn't heard in years. She gestured outside. "Would you like to utilise that voice a little more? We frequently indulge in some illegal musical activity after a stressful day. Helps keep our spirits up."

For the first time in what felt like too long, a real smile stole across his face. "Sure."

". . . She says: We've got to hold on to what we've got
'Cause it doesn't make a difference
If we make it or not
We've got each other and that's a lot
For love - we'll give it a shot

Ohhhh, we're half way there
Woah-oh, We're livin' on a prayer
Take my hand and we'll make it - I swear
Ohhhh, we're livin' on a prayer!"


Wow, big chapter :P Hope you enjoyed it.

So, because Glee is first and foremost a musical, I'm randomly purring lyrics and things in to help tell the story, or trying to incorporate them with the text. If people find this annoying or obnoxious, then don't hesitate to tell me. But for now, here's the soundtrack to both chapters thus far.

Elphaba: Part 1

- The Ballad of Serenity - Firefly
- Defying Gravity - Idina Menzel, Wicked
- American Pie -
Don McLean
- Long Way To The Top - AC/DC

Elphaba: Part 2

- Highway to Hell - AC/DC
- Living on a Prayer - Bon Jovi
- I'll Stand by You - Glee Cast

Next Episode: The Trophy Job