AN: Just a quick thank you for those who took the time out to read and/or review. Hope this chapter isn't too long, but how else is the story supposed to be told? Enjoy!

These walls are a light grey color with framed abstract artwork carefully spread across them.

"How are you sleeping?" Her psychologist looks up from the notepad he's been scribbling on for the past few minutes as Quinn has been explaining the minor details of her week. He alines his pen with the others on the coffee table next to him without breaking his gaze.

Quinn meets his stare, "Better than before."

He lets out an exhibrated sigh, "Quinn-"

"I swear. The dreams are still there, they'll always be there. Honestly, Dr. Smythe, they'll never stop. I've accepted that a long time ago." It's not the first time she's explained this and it won't be the last. It's very frustrating. She hits the side of one hand against the palm of the other, "It's not a dream. It forces dreams onto me, yeah." He starts to shake his head in protest. "You don't believe me. That's fine."

"It's not that I don't believe you. I know you think what you're seeing is real," He pauses when she looks away. Quinn's tongue slides up onto her teeth behind closed lips in aggravation. "Just hear me out, Quinn." He leans forward, fingers interlacing as he continues, "Maybe it's real, maybe it isn't. Neither one of us can decide that, but what we can agree on is that it's not normal and we should work to improve on it."

Her eyebrows raise and her mouth gapes open. Normal. She gives him a sarcastic head nod and gestures for him to proceed.

"Do you want to talk about school or work?" Dr. Smythe rests back into his leather chair.

She chips at the polish on her nails. "School is fine, I finished last week. Work is stressful."

He nods, "School was never an issue with you. I had no doubts about that. Aren't you proud of yourself, Quinn? Yale. That's a big accomplishment. Just two more years and you'll have that dipolma."

She wants to tell him how little interest she has in school, how no classes appeal to her, how -no matter how many people tell her differently- she feels school is becoming more and more unimportant. Graduating doesn't mean anything if her problems are going to be adapting and growing there with her. Instead she says, "Can't wait."

He flashes her a quick grin before smoothing out his dress pants for the third time. "Still undecided on your major?"

She bites onto her cuticle. "Yes."

The ever-so-proper psychologist takes his paper and pen and prepares himself for her answer, "I wanted to know what is so stressful at your work place?"

She shrugs and shifts uncomfortably on the couch, the one that she feels her co-pays have purchased for him. "There's just not enough time in the day. Without the work I'd have close to nothing so it's just a struggle." Quinn watches as he copies her words onto the notepad. She adds: "Life's a struggle."

He gives her a polite laugh, "Yeah, well we all have to-"

The bag that had been sitting beside her starts to glow and buzz. She apologizes and reaches in for the vibrating phone.

Incoming Call from Rachel

Her lashes flutter into her vision, "I'm sorry Dr. Smythe, I need to take this." He waves her off and she exits to the hallway of the office before answering, "Hello?"

Silence.

No. No. No. No. No! Quinn makes her way to the stairwell. Her pace is steady but she can feel screams fighting to escape her lips. No. It's barely 6, the sun won't set for at least another hour. This can't wont happen. The phone starts to tremble in her hand, she's jolting in fear. Quinn reaches out and grabs onto the railing. Her body slams against it, she can't feel her heart beating. Shouldn't it be pounding? The hand wrapped around the bar starts to soak with sweat, "Rachel?"

"Quinn! Sorry I was at the gas pump." The chipper voice on the other end of the line shouts back at her. "Where are you?"

She feels her body tense up, still uncertain of what's happening. "I- I'm just leaving work now." She lies.

"Fantastic! Guess who's thirty minutes away from your apartment!"

Quinn paused for a second to regain her composure. "You're coming to New Haven?"

"I'm already somewhere in Connecticut. I just stopped at a gas station and couldn't keep the surprise any longer. So, surprise!" Rachel squeals into the phone about all the plans she had made for them for the week while Quinn creeps back into Mr. Smythe's office to hand over the check for the appointment she barely attended. "Quinn, are you there?"

"Yeah, yeah." She assures Rachel whilst jogging back down the office stairway. "Listen, uh," she fumbles with the car keys in her hand "I'm heading home now, I need to clean up the place I wasn't really expecting company." Quinn finds herself smiling at Rachel's giggles from the other line. "How long are you staying for?"

"I don't really know, I completely forgot to make a reservation with the school year ending and all that. I thought maybe I could just stay at your place for the weekend? I know this must be inconvenient for-"

Quinn cuts in, "Rach, it's fine. I wouldn't want you wasting your money on a hotel room." She makes her way to the car and switches the phone and keys in her hands. She presses the phone in it's original position against her ear. "We're friends, right?" She takes her spot in the driver's seat of her shiny red car.

There's a noticable pause before Rachel replies with a "Yeah, we are."

"Good. So I'll see you in a few minutes?" Quinn readies herself for the drive home, she can hear a car door slam closed from the other side of the call.

"On my way."

Quinn takes a look at herself in the rear view mirror, she sees the black marks underlining her eyes. "Oh, and Rachel?" She reaches into her bag and takes out the cover-up.

"Yes?"

She smears the makeup over the evidence of her lack of sleep and mass amounts of stress. "Next time, no surprises."

They share a grin over the phone, "Deal."

Click. Called ended.

She pretends she doesn't hear I'll see you later, baby as she starts up the engine.


Quinn has always felt directionless, especially the past few years. The pain was always there as far back as she can remember. When she was in middle school she began to recognize that what she was constantly experiencing wasn't normal. She- like her counselors do - passed it off as something easy to explain. First it was family problems, puberty, peer pressure.

The submissive behaviour followed her into high school. She worked daily to improve herself. Make up, hair dye, weight loss. The typical things girls her age would do. She joined teams and clubs trying to fit in. When she got onto her school's cheerleading team things became more hectic. Suddenly Quinn Fabray was popular.

It was half way through her freshmen year when she met Rachel Berry. She was everything Quinn was underneath her braveface; misunderstood, self-conscious, afraid, but there was something else. Rachel, too, was forever trying to better herself. She was the type of person who had been hurt so much by her peers to assume everyone would hurt her. Quinn took advantage of that- like she felt this connection to Rachel, a girl she barely knew, and feared it. Because of that connection and intimitation, Quinn made Rachel the bullying target for her friends.

Time passes and things change, Quinn fell in love with a boy named Finn. She started to blame her skeptical thoughts on him, assumed he's always after other girls. She joined a glee club to keep him away from a girl who'd caught his eye, Rachel. Irony truly is cruel. Finn wanted all that Quinn hid away.

Quinn gave away her virginity to a boy who, in that moment, made the frantic behavior disappear. She got pregnant. Blamed the pain on the baby and gave it away. Quinn was back at the bottom, Rachel was always there to comfort her when Quinn allowed it.

Despite her best attempts, the panic inside of her started to burst out. People saw it, friends blamed it on the boys, teachers blamed it on her, she blamed it on the baby. None are true. It's the monsters inside of her trying to break out.

The brunette had snuck her way into Quinn's life by the end of their High School days, they'd bond over Finn, glee club, dreams. They were big dreamers, always thought the world was so much brighter outside of Ohio. It wasn't.

Rachel found peace doing what she always enjoyed, singing. She now attends a preforming arts college in New York that's roughly two hours away from Quinn's college in New Haven. The two kept a promise to each other to keep in touch, unlike her other friends, Rachel is special to Quinn. It doesn't matter if it's planned or unexpected, short or long, Quinn is always uplifted when Rachel is coming to stay.

Their glee club days seem like ancient history now, they are a hazy memory burried away in Quinn's mind. The friends she made are close to nothing now. Where have they been through all her struggles? Didn't they see her suffering? Was she that good of an actress, to hide the trama inside her head for so long? Didn't they care? Apparently not. They moved on with their lives, as everyone eventually does. The young adults she used to spend everyday with in the choir room were now spread out all across the country- the world even. But not Rachel.

Rachel -the girl who Quinn would victimize purely because she hated herself- is the one who sees the person Quinn is, and not the issues she's drowning in. Two hours of road is all that separates them now. Sometimes Quinn wonders if Rachel feels the same connection as she always has.


Smoke occupies her lungs, she's been sitting on the front step of her apartment building for the better half of an hour. There's cigarette buds tucked between the cracks in the pavement. Specks of rain are falling around her but the walk back upstairs for an umbrella is too much of a hassle for a small shower such as this.

Today is a good day, not essentially different from most others but then again there's the reassurance that Rachel Berry is somewhere in this world and not just in her head. Days when Quinn is reminded she isn't crazy are always valuable. So she awaits the arrival of her best friend, her only friend.

She takes another drag. Her mind starts to wander, where is she? Is she okay? Should I call? I'm almost there! Did you miss me? Quinn bangs her wrist against her forehead, mumbles "Get out." Child-like laughter floods her mind. She tries to count how many are with her, there's three distinct voices. Is there others? It feels like a crowded room inside of her, she sits alone scraping at the broken chips of polish that are left on her nails.

Her phone begins to buzz again, she sighs in relief as the inaudible noise fades away. Quinn checks the screen only to read 7:30 Pill Alarm. She smashes the cigarette between her fingers against the ground. Quinn leaves the phone to sit in her lap and digs through her purse for the medication.

She washes the Zoloft down with the salvia resting under her tongue before rumaging through her bag for some Haloperidol. Better safe than sorry she tells herself although she knows it will come anyway. She gulps down the pill hard before looking up to see a tiny silver car with a New York license plate sliding in between the faded lines of the parking lot. Suddenly Quinn's mouth seems much dryer.

A small figured woman with shiny brown hair steps out. "Did you miss me?"