It was one of those moments when the entire world seemed to freeze. The planet ceased turning on it's axis, time, air, everything around them was still. Quinn had never felt a moment like that before, and she probably never would again. Her eyes fell on Santana who was already looking straight back at her. If Quinn had been thinking she would have not looked so horror stricken but she wasn't thinking. She couldn't think. There were no thoughts, no words, nothing registered aside of Santana's face, and the feeling of her girlfriend's hand suddenly heavy in her own. Quinn held it tight as possibly she could, not even realizing she was doing so. They hadn't let go since they moved from the woods, reaping day they only day they ever held hands in public. No one probably ever thought anything of it. Plenty of people held hands on reaping day. Not like this though. When most people held hands on reaping day it was a reassurance, a reminder that they were there, together, with each other. Quinn's grip on Santana's hand was nothing of the sort. It had been. In the years before then it had been exactly that— a reminder that they were together, always. We'll have it all. Just as Quinn always said. Some day. Now though, her holding Santana's hand was desperate. Her grip was tight, clammy, refusing to move. It was a plea more than a reassurance, it was her saying 'no' not 'I'm here.' But no one else would have noticed that.
The only thing anyone else would have seen were two girls, staring at each other like their worlds had stopped. Because, in fact, they had. They would see two unlikely friends. The late medicine woman's daughter and councilman Fabray's Quinnie not moving as peace keepers drew closer to them. They would see Santana standing still and strong as she always was, but they wouldn't see the tears she was blinking away. Only Quinn would see those. They mirrored the ones in her own eyes as she bit her lower lip and shook her head. No. Quinn didn't even know what it was directed at specifically but it didn't matter. No to all of it. No she didn't want to hear Santana tell her what to do, say words that sounded like goodbye. No she didn't want to let her hand go, or let them take her. No she couldn't do it. No she wasn't strong enough. No this wasn't last time she would see her. It couldn't be. No she wouldn't stand in front of her girlfriend and listen to her say 'I love you' like it meant goodbye.
"Santana….. no." Quinn whispered the words. They were desperate and choked, and she continued to just shake her head, raking her lip through her teeth again. How was she the one being weak, when Santana needed her to be strong. She held back crying for as long as she could, until a white gloved hand broke her stare into the dark brown eyes she had grown to know better than the back of her own hand. Then another, more white. One of them wrapped around Santana's arm, and Quinn was stunned when the other girl pushed them away, their lips meeting quickly, as perfectly as they always did. Quinn wanted to grab her, wrap her arms around Santana's body and never move them even if that meant they went together but that wasn't the case and there wasn't time. The gloved hands came back, and Santana pulled away, with an I love you that instantly shattered what little knowledge Quinn had of the things going on around them. A small, choked sob escaped her lips, and Quinn felt her chest shake. They pulled Santana away and she tried to reach for her, get to her, even if it was only another kiss. More peace keepers came. They held both of Quinn's arms despite her fighting. She tried to push against them, kicking, elbowing, yelling, and she didn't even know why.
Quinn's vision, despite all her struggling, was focused only on the back of Santana's head. She walked stoically between two peace keepers, no longer needing to be dragged away. It was a strength and a dignity that Quinn respected. However, it didn't keep her from not caring about her own as she continued to claw uselessly at the peace keepers that held her. One of them pulled her away, spinning as if they were going to leave the area. That was the final blow to the ounce of sanity Quinn was trying to hold on to. In a quick flash she caught a glimpse of Santana's grandmother. My Abuelita. The sick woman was the only thing Santana had left. Santana was the only thing she had. Quinn take care of my grandma, please don't let her die. Those were the only words she heard in her head, as the peace keepers tried to further pull her away. How could she do that? How could she take care of a dying woman? Only Santana knew how to. Only Santana would be what her grandmother needed… wanted. The whole district needed her.
With one last push of her body, Quinn launched herself away from the peace keepers. "I volunteer!" She screamed the words. They were desperate but bold. Who needed her? No one. Everyone needed Santana. Hell… Quinn needed Santana, home, safe. Who needed her? She was the daughter of a man who kept her around to wear dresses and eat dinner with the Mayor's son. Bartered around to Finn Hudson for her father's social status as Santana had said. This was all in her hands. Quinn could trade herself. Santana would probably object. Hell by now she was probably screaming. Quinn didn't hear anything. She didn't even look to where her dumbfounded mother stood, clutching on to her now purple-faced father.
Quinn's eyes attached themselves to the stage as she made her way closer to it. Some of the peace keepers were still trying to keep her back. There was a whisper that almost made it's way to the microphone on the stage. One of the men saying something in the ears of Effie Trinket. Quinn didn't know what, but chances are it meant he game keepers enjoyed the idea of a councilman's daughter as tribute.
Effie's voice rang over the commotion, telling them to calm down, to grab Santana, that the brave little girl in the back would be tribute instead. There was a mockery to her voice. Already Quinn knew she was giving them everything that could have hoped for and more. Sure, Santana would have been a good tribute, and she was probably trying to volunteer over Quinn if such a thing was possible, but the daughter of an important man…. what better way to prove the power that the capitol still had. Quinn was already giving them exactly what they wanted. But she wasn't giving them Santana. The peace keepers let her go, and Quinn straightened her back, smoothing her hands over her dress as she had done in the mirror that morning and only then stealing a glance towards her mother, only for a brief second, and only because she couldn't look towards Santana. Quinn was terrified of what she would see in her eyes, and so she walked, quickly but steadily to the stage.
Someone was screaming, a loud, piercing wail that echoed in her ears. It took Santana ten seconds and a hoarse throat to realize that she was the one letting out the unearthly sound. The same two words bounced around in her head. I volunteer. "NO! NO, TAKE ME! TAKE ME! I VOLUNTEER, I'LL DO IT, I'LL VOLUNTEER!" she shrieked, practically sprinting towards the stage. She nearly made it too when two Peacekeepers tackled her, tugging her away. "NO NO NO NO, LET ME DO IT! QUINN!" she howled as she clawed and scratched at the hands forcing her away from her girlfriend, her small body walking up the pathway with a firm, yet timid gait. The eyes in the crowd were split between the stoic girl, marching to her death, and the girl she loved, and who loved her in return, trying desperately to reach her. An arm wrapped around Santana's throat, cutting off her air supply, and consequently her screams. Only a gurgled choke escaped her mouth as she stared, horrified at Quinn who was now standing on the stage, looking shy and solemn, but adamant in her choice. Santana didn't care that her face was probably turning purple from lack of air, or that she would undoubtedly have a large bruise from where the man's forearm was crushing her windpipe. All she cared about was the fact that her girlfriend, the one person she loved more than life itself, was committing herself to her doom.
Quinn stood, looking out over the sea of people that blurred in front of her. Santana. Where is Santana? It was the only thing she could think but her vision couldn't seem to find her girlfriend. Maybe she wasn't supposed to. Maybe if she did they would both spontaneously combust due to an overload of emotion. Quinn felt a thin-fingered hand on her shoulder. "Your name, sweetie". Effie's coaxing tone snapped her out of her trance. Quinn looked at the woman, back out to the crowd again and then directly in front of her, not knowing where else to put her eyes. "Uh… Quinn. Quinn Fabray."
Santana watched as Quinn's eyes flickered around, glancing briefly at her sobbing mother and her livid father, to around the crowd, undoubtedly searching from her. I'm here! She wanted to scream out to her, but she was still rendered mute by the arm around her throat. Someone shifted slightly and blocked her view of Quinn, and she fought even harder to get the arm off her. It tightened even more, and she choked from the pressure.
The rest of the reaping was more blurry than the beginning. Quinn didn't even hear the name of the boy they chose, or his mother cry when they ripped him away. She heard Santana's voice in her head. Take care of my grandma, take care of yourself…. I love you. Quinn could do those things. "I love you too." She whispered inaudibly down to her folded hands, and then as they pushed her away and through the doors, "We'll have it all."
The same person moved again, and the last thing Santana saw was Quinn's retreating back as Effie hurried her into the building, steel gray doors slamming shut behind them. Finally, the peacekeeper let her go, shoving her down onto the dusty ground. Santana coughed harshly, trying to suck in air. No one moved to touch her, but she could feel everyone's pitying gaze upon her. She rested her forehead on the ground, breathing heavily, not letting anyone see her tears. She could hear the soft whirring of a camera trained on her, undoubtedly giving the people in the Capitol a good show. Finally, once she had her breathing under control, Santana sat up, tear tracks showing on her face, her dress ruined by her scuffle with the Peacekeepers. She didn't look at a single person, ignoring everyone around her. She left the crowd, her head held high. She wouldn't let them watch her break down any more. No, they didn't deserve to see her tears.
Santana had barely made it out of the square before her heart wrenched again, and she had to force herself to take each step. She couldn't do this. Not here. It seemed like an eternity before her feet took her back to their spot by the stream, a place where only an hour before had seemed like their little piece of heaven in their hellish existence on Earth. Now, it looked barren and cold to her, like another nameless plot of grass along a muddy bank of barely there water. She realized that it only looked bright when Quinn was there to share the beauty of it with her. Quinn was the beauty. She felt tears well up in her eyes again as she remembered the calm, resigned look on her beautiful face, as though she knew exactly what she had done, and that she would do it again to save her. Wiping her tears furiously from her face, she let out a raw scream, startling the birds and animals in the nearby woods. She didn't care if the Peacekeepers heard her, if they found out that she was beyond the fence. Her anguished cry erupted into the air, but then faded in the wind, carried away by the breeze. She knelt on the ground, weeping for her love, for the cruel twist of fate that tore them apart. "We'll have it all," she whispered to herself mockingly, scoffing at their naiveté.
Finally, Santana knew that she had to get home. Her abuelita would be worrying about her, or practicing the speech to kick her out of the house. She wasn't really sure yet. That little public display of affection at the Reaping would not go over well with the old-fashioned women. Somehow though, Santana couldn't bring herself to care. She walked aimlessly through the district, like a zombie. No one came up to her, talked to her, tried to offer any comfort. They all stared, watching the girl who had just had her life pulled out from under her. When she neared her house, her heart jumped in her throat as she saw a Peacekeeper waiting for her. It was Flux, one of the Peacekeepers that often looked the other way when she returned from the forest, laden with herbs and plants for her cures. He looked sympathetically at her as he began to move towards her. "She wants to see you," he murmured quietly. "It's not customary, but since she's a volunteer, and her father… they're allowing it." Santana's eyes widened. She didn't think she would see Quinn before they took her away, but now that she had the opportunity, she had no idea what she would say. "Let me… let me clean up real quick," she said hoarsely, her voice raspy from her bruised throat and the harsh screaming she'd been doing just a little while earlier. Flux nodded and Santana brushed past him, ripping off her soiled green dress and opting for her preferred pants and sturdy shirt. She washed her face, ridding it of all remnants of her tears, except for the redness in her eyes. Staring at her reflection in the looking glass, she barely recognized herself, the haunted look in her eyes, the bruise that was beginning to form on her tan skin. Tearing her eyes away, she stepped outside, and she and Flux set off for the Town Hall, where Quinn was waiting for her.
Neither of them spoke as they trudged through the town, eyes on them nearly burning through Santana. They were in the merchant area now, where Quinn had lived. These were her neighbors, her acquaintances. She could feel the judgment in their eyes. Why had the councilman's daughter volunteered herself for this nobody? Standing up even straighter, she kept her eyes focused straight ahead, feeling Flux's hand on the small of her back, guiding her through, keeping her grounded. She walked up the steps to the ominous building, and stepped through the threshold as Flux opened the door for her. Nodding her thanks, another Peacekeeper met them at the door, identifying them both before motioning for Santana to follow her. Flux gave her an encouraging smile, and Santana walked after the other woman, her hands growing clammy as she tried to think about everything she would say to Quinn. They wouldn't have long, and it wouldn't be enough time, but right now, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Before she knew it, they were before a plain mahogany door and the Peacekeeper nodded at her before leaving. Taking a deep breath, Santana knocked once before reaching for the doorknob. Opening it slowly, her breath caught as she glimpsed Quinn's face, willing her tears to go away. Stepping in, she shut the door behind her as Quinn spoke:
"So… I… guess we have… three minutes…"
A/n: As before we would really love to hear any feedback that you guys have. Also as mentioned before, this story is based on our RP. There will be writing after this chapter that does not take place in the first version. If anyone would like to follow for updates on this version, you may look for either of us on tumblr under the urls Fabray and acciolopez. The urls for the original rp of this story are quinn-12 and Santana-intheforst. Also, we would still appreciate some feedback of what you guys would prefer in terms of length of time between chapters. As most of the content is already written, we are capable of posting every day or two, but are more than willing to wait if people would prefer we spread it out.