AN: Hey everyone! Man, I got a lot of emails with Story Alert overnight! Amazing! Thank you all so much! It's so good to know people are liking this enough to follow it :) so, chapter 2: we find out Quinn's big secret. Still Rachel's POV, but we're switching next chapter to Quinn's, and I think we'll stay with Quinn's throughout most of the story. Chapter title taken from Misguided Ghosts by Paramore. I really hope everyone enjoys it. If you do, let me know with a review! If you don't, let me know with a review! ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or anything I may refer to.


~ Misguided ghosts ~

She walked out without another look, through the streets, to her house, going through people, trees, cars – ironically enough – until she reached her own bed and laid herself down to think. What did this mean? What did this change? She knew the answer.

"Everything," she whispered. Her life was over, literally. All her hopes and dreams vanished. This would forever be her life, stuck in Lima, never getting to New York and making her dreams come true.

Everything she had ever wanted was now out of her reach before she had really gotten a chance to go on and get it. She felt like she was crying but no actual tears spilled from her eyes. Only sobs from her throat, while all the things she'd lost formed a horrible parade in her head.

She lost track of time with her sorrow, especially when nobody came home after a while, and in the dark, her optimism crumbled along with so many things that shaped her, and she mourned herself till dawn. At the end of it all, there was but one thing wrecking her mind.

What was she still doing here?

Shouldn't her essence have died with her body? She prided herself on never drinking, doing drugs or having sex or anything else that could be described as "sinful".

Frankly, if she didn't deserve to go to heaven, nobody did. Unless the Christians were right and all the Jews were damned from the beginning, which would be highly unfair, but even then she should be burning in hell.

In any case, she shouldn't have been stuck on earth like now. Was she supposed to let the world know her talent in vain before passing on to either heaven or hell?' She didn't know. What she did know was that she would never find anything out if she stayed in bed.

When her alarm clock went off, she sat up with a start. After trying to get her elliptical running – but failing to push the on button – she decided it didn't matter since she would never eat again anyway, never change.

She shook her head and left her home, not bothering trying to bring her bookbag. She would never make another test anyway. That was kind of good. No more tests. No more studying. Never the gratifying feeling of getting an A, never graduating…

She walked on. She had already gone through most things during the night, listing them in her mind, but the list grew as the small things added up to them. Walking barefoot on a newly mown lawn, tasting salt on your lips after swimming in the ocean.

That final bow, hearing nothing but cheers and applause… She suddenly found herself at school, the place her feet had automatically led her to. She checked the clock. First period started 5 minutes ago. She walked through the door and after a minute, she walked in her History class, unnoticed, of course.

She went to sit on her usual seat, and made notes in her mind in stead of on actual paper. After that, she tried the same thing in English, but had that class with Kurt, Mercedes and Brittany and Santana, who were casting such sad, horrible looks at her seat that it disturbed her focus a little.

During lunch she was planning on going to the choir room as for usual, although she didn't know what she was going to do there now, unable to touch something.

Being dead really ruined your day.

Once there, she saw that she didn't need to worry.

Apart from Puck and Quinn, the whole Glee club was there, whispering, scared to talk too loud, it seemed. Mr. Shue walked in. He looked sad and tired, but seemed to have pulled himself together overnight. He was carrying a radio.

He put the radio down with a clap and looked at the Glee club. He sighed.

"It will probably take some time to get over this. But we can't let it crush us, even though it's easy to, we can't. Last night, 2 of your friends stayed up all night and made this happen."

He turned on the radio and on came a presenters voice.

"And the girl—"

"Rachel," Quinn's voice caught him off. Rachel gasped, and wasn't the only one surprised.

"Right, Rachel. She was in your school's Glee club?"

"She was our star," Puck's voice said. Rachel's breath stuck in her throat again.

"Why are they on there? They didn't care for her! They didn't even like her!" Finn said, a little too loudly.

Mr. Shue stepped up. "They lost a friend just like you guys."

Kurt agreed. "Think about it. They did this. Nobody here was always nice to her, none of us really deserve it, if you're fair."

The radio went on, Quinn telling about what she'd meant for Glee club with Puck filling in some blanks.

"So why are you here?"

"To pay a tribute to her. Our own, personal Jewish icon."

"Alright, go for it guys. Here are Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman, with a tribute to the late Rachel Berry."

"This song is called Radio's in Heaven, we switched up the lyrics a little. This one is for our captain."

Rachel closed her eyes, and wished she were there. She knew somehow that it could be done, and when she opened them, she saw Puck and Quinn, Puck playing his acoustic guitar, and Quinn started singing in her soft, delicate voice.

Your time has already come and I don't know why

The last thing that I had heard

you were doing just fine

It seems like just yesterday

I was dancing with you

Songs at Mr. Shuester's house

Well you taught us well, didn't you?

I hope I'm just like you

It was impossible not to notice the change in lyrics, even for someone who didn't know the song. Rachel remembered hearing it once or twice when they were hanging out with the Gleeks, and someone's iPod was playing in the background.

After that, she'd looked it up, because it was infinitely romantic to her, the whole idea behind the song. And who was here singing it? Quinn, of all people. Though Noah joined in for the chorus.

Do they have radios in heaven?

I hope they do

'Cause they're playing my song on the radio

And I'm singing it to you

And I'm singing it to you, ,you, ,you, ,you

You left before we had a chance to say goodbye

But that's the way life usually is

It just passes you by

But you can't hold on to regrets and you can't look back

So I'll just be thankful for the times that I had with you

I hope I'm just like you

Quinn kept her eyes closed throughout the whole song. Usually Rachel would have commented that it was bad if you wanted to connect with the audience, but this was radio.

Well, do they have radios in heaven?

I hope they do

'Cause they're playing my song on the radio

And I'm singing it to you, I'm singing it to you

If they don't have radios in heaven

here's what I'll do

I can bring my guitar when my time is up and I'll play it for you

I'll play it for you, you, you

Puck changed up the rhythm, a light frown was etched on his handsome features. He let the last chord of the bridge ring while Quinn held her tone longer than was necessary, showing off.

Rachel kept in a snort. She was often guilty of showing off herself, and she wasn't a hypocrite. The key change went swiftly, and suddenly Quinn was singing a key higher.

Tell me can you hear me now

if not, then I can try to sing real loud

What's it like up on the other side of the clouds?

I hope I'm just like you

I hope I turn out to be as good as you

And do they have radios in heaven?

I hope they do

'Cause they're playing my song on the radio

And I'm singing it to you, I'm singing it to you

And if they don't have radios in heaven

here's what I'll do

I can bring my guitar when my time is up and I'll play it for you

I'll play it for you, you, you

It was quite the tearjearker, the song, not that something was wrong with that of course. When Puck strummed his final chord, Quinn let out a shaky breath, seemingly emotional, Rachel detected surprised.

Quinn opened her eyes, and hazel eyes locked with chocolate brown.

Rachel gasped. Quinn wasn't looking through her. The surprised look in the blonde's eyes gave her away. The radio cut to commercial and the presenter gave them his condolences before leaving quickly, taking full advantage of his short break, no doubt.

"That went great. We rock!" Puck said grinning, before stating: "I'm pretty freaking sure she heard that."

"Yeah," Quinn agreed. "She sure did."

As they walked to the elevator, Rachel was on Quinn's tail. In the elevator, Quinn was focused intently on the numbers that told her they were going down, until Rachel said: "…Quinn?"

Quinn cringed and Rachel squealed.

"I knew it! You saw me, you heard me! You can see and hear me!"

"Are you alright, Quinn?" Puck asked doubtfully.

"Alright? Alright? Noah, she is a psychic! She's gifted! You're more than alright, Quinn!"

"Ugh," Quinn said, before loudly – trying to get over Rachel's voice – saying: "Thanks Puck, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

"Why are you yelling? We're in a freaking elevator."

"Yes, Quinn, why are you yelling?" Rachel asked, grinning wildly.

"Oh, don't you start," Quinn muttered, before the 'bing' indicated they'd arrived downstairs.

"What?" Puck asked.

"Nothing. Ehm, Puck, I think I'd rather walk home, if that's okay. Get some air. It's barely a 15 minute walk."

"Are you sure?"

"Very."

Puck was still doubtful, looking at her concernedly.

"Do you need me to like, call someone or something? You don't seem normal."

Quinn sighed, trying to hide her annoyance.

"It's fine, Puck, I promise. Just need to get some air. See you soon."

"Yeah, take care alright?" Puck said.

When he walked away, Rachel sighed.

"I thought he was never going to leave. Now, I have several questions I would like to ask you, as you probably can imagine."

Quinn turned around, looking dead tired and worn out. She cringed again when she saw Rachel, and groaned: "Why does it have to be you? Can't I see, like, someone cool? Like Marilyn Monroe or Paul McCartney?"

"Actually, you will find that Paul McCartney is still very much alive, unlike me."

Quinn groaned again, exasperated.

"My point exactly. Why does it have to be you?"

"I am very sorry to disappoint you, but I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter. And don't pretend that everything you feel towards me is negative, because that radio performance just now proved otherwise. I am unsure where exactly all that heartfelt emotion came from, but I grant you my compliments. Now, do you have an explanation or are we both just lost in the dark here?"

"You're dead."

"I know."

"Well, that's a start. You died in a car crash last Sunday."

"I know. I saw my body."

Quinn wasn't sure how to reply to that and so she didn't. Rachel wasn't about to waste any time, though.

"You can see me, and hear me."

"Unfortunately, you're right."

"Why? How? Am I a ghost? Are you like Jennifer Love Hewitt in Ghost Whisperer? Are you psychic? Am I not really dead? Are you a witch?"

"This is so not happening." Quinn started walking from her, but Rachel caught up with her within a second.

"You can't do this! You're my only hope! Please, you must help me! You have to help! They always do on Broadway!"

"I don't have to do anything!" Quinn snarled at her, coming to an abrupt stop. "I'm not obliged to help anybody, least of all you! I don't owe you anything! This isn't one of yourstupid shows, this is my life! And let me tell you this, Berry, I didn't choose this… whatever, and if there's one person I didn't want to come and haunt me it would be you! You're dead, Treasure Trail! Stay dead, and act like it!"

Quinn decided to jump on a bus, and Rachel knew that at that specific moment, she wouldn't reach anything with Quinn. Quinn was tired and taken by surprise, probably upset, possibly emotional, and Rachel could do with some time to sort things out as well. So she gave Quinn a break. For now.