A/N: To the guest reviewer that didn't understand the last line, it meant that Rachel probably wouldn't want to use the rape whistle with him. Thank you for letting me know that it wasn't understandable, though! Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! Please review. Currently unbetaed.
Chapter Two: ~4140 Words - Published 7/29/14
Warnings: Physical abuse; attempted rape.
7:51 PM
Rachel shrieked, "Noah! You scared me!"
She twisted in the swing to look at him indignantly, holding a hand up to her chest. He smirked and sat in the swing to her right.
"Cool it, Jew Babe. It's just Puckasarus."
Rachel rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Do you really call yourself that?"
Puck shrugged and began kicking his legs back and forth, "I haven't swang in ages."
Rachel gently began kicking her legs again, "Swung."
"Swing, swang, swung; whatever," he grunted.
She hummed quietly and swung into the night with Puck; the feeling of dread just barely lessened.
~0~
8:26 PM
Puck walked Rachel back over to the stands with his arm around her shoulder. Usually, Rachel wouldn't let him do such a thing, but tonight with the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach she was grateful that Puck was there.
"Are you okay, my hot little Jewish American princess? You seem really on edge or something."
Rachel closed her eyes and let the side of her lip quirk up at the name, "I'm fine, Noah. I'm just… I don't know. Something doesn't feel right. Like something bad is going to happen."
Rachel gave a small yelp as Puck surprised her with a bone crushing hug, "Don't worry too much, lil' babe. I've been having a feeling like that, too, today. Maybe it's, like, the weather or something, ya know?"
She furrowed her brow and rested her head against his chest. It couldn't just be the weather. Something was seriously wrong. Like, her house was going to get burglarized, or one of her fathers were going to get hurt. This wasn't just a run of the mill feeling of anxiety. This was a deep in the pit of her stomach feeling that was telling her that something terrible happened, was happening, or was going to happen. It was a feeling that she couldn't escape.
She backed away from Puck and gave him a nod, "Maybe, I guess."
Puck smirked and nudged her shoulder, "If you need me to, I know a surefire way to make you forget everything but my name."
She rolled her eyes and hit his arm before walking away, "In your dreams, Noah."
"Every night, babe!"
She wrapped her arms around herself and hated that he had made her smile. She didn't want to smile right now.
~0~
"Rachel! Where have you been?"
She shrugged her shoulders at Kurt and sat back down beside him. The game appeared to be nearing an end, the Titans up by eight points. She briefly wondered why baseball wasn't as popular at her school, when the team was obviously superior in comparison to their football team.
She rested her head on Kurt's shoulder and immediately regretted the decision when he bounced up forcefully with a "You're a wanker number nine, did you even see the ball!?" She sighed resorted to resting her chin in her hands. This was going to be a long night. If only she could figure out what was wrong.
The breath caught in her throat when the van pulled to a stop. This was it. She had a choice to make. She could try and run or she could submit.
She closed her eyes against the fabric that was on them and gulped as she heard the two front doors open and feet walk around to the back. She silently thanked Couch Sylvester for forcing the Cheerios to learn breath control, as she evened her breathing and schooled her facial features. She wanted them to believe she was still out. Maybe they would just leave her in the van if she was out.
Yeah, right.
The door flew open and her heart jumped. She prayed to God that her body had remained still.
She still didn't know what time it was, but it was chilly when the door whipped open. It had to be later in the evening - night time even. She really wanted this thing around her eyes to come off.
Heavy footsteps clanked as someone climbed into the back with her. She could feel the persons eyes on her, observing her, sizing her up. She cringed internally and tried her best to not move.
"Fucking bitch," a low voice whispered, "You need to be taught respect, don't you? Thinking you can just get away with me with a little show of puke? I don't let people go easy once I get my eye on them."
It was James. Quinn would never forget his voice again. She remained still and stiff as a board, surprised that her limbs weren't shaking from fear.
"You're a pretty one. Feisty too. You like a fight, don't ya, darling?"
It took everything in her power not to cringe when a rough finger trailed its way down her chin, "I'm going to treat you so good, darling. You won't want to fight anymore or spill your guts. You'll want to be right here with me and Fiona. You won't be a little bitch anymore. I'll make you into a perfect Cinderella."
The gravely voice sounded as if it were attempting to be soft, but it only terrified Quinn more. This man was insane. He wasn't just a kidnapper - that was insane in and of itself. No this man was a psychopath; he wanted to make her, his. He wanted to train her. As if she were a dog.
She felt James stand from where he had been crouched and walk over to the other side of the van. She took this time to release a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.
She remained impassive as James walked back over to her, near her feet. She felt him crouch and run the scratchy hand up her leg. She held back her tears.
"Such pretty legs, darling. Unfortunately, since you like to fight, I'm going to have to take away your ability to run."
She felt cold metal wrap its way around her ankle.
She tried not gasp as realization dawned on her, "Handcuffs."
His eyes were on her again, she could feel it. She didn't move as he climbed over her.
"Darling, wakey wakey."
His finger brushed the hair from her forehead. Chapped lips pressed above her left eyebrow. She clenched her jaw as subtly as she could and pushed back tears. She had to be strong.
She kept her eyes closed as James' hand lifted the blindfold. His callused hand cupped her cheek and his thumb brushed under her eye.
"Open your eyes, Cinderella."
She kept them closed her flexed her hand into a fist. Fear and adrenaline began running through her veins.
"Open your eyes."
She kept them closed.
James removed his hand from her cheek and she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he wasn't going to do anyth-
SLAP!
His hard hand hit her across the cheek with such force her eyes shot open and her body arched into him. Tears sprung to her eyes and she bit her lip hard to hold back her sob.
She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want to see her captors face. Because she knew, she would never, ever be able to forget it.
He had other ideas.
He grabbed her chin roughly and turned her head. He met her eyes and she cringed at the anger she saw.
His eyes were a dark gray-blue. His face was as rough as his hands, stubble littered his cheeks. His nose looked as if it had been broken before, slightly off kilter in the middle. He had to at least be forty-five. His tan complexion was that of having worked in a field for years. His neck was red from what looked like a recent sunburn. His graying black hair was thick and unkempt. He smiled, his teeth were on the yellow side, a couple of them chipped.
"Now there, that wasn't so hard was it, darling?"
She whimpered. It was the hardest thing she had ever done; look at him.
"All I asked you to do was look at me. If you had obeyed me, I wouldn't have had to mark that pretty lil' face of yours."
Her face stung, she had no doubt a red handprint was etched into her cheekbone.
He pressed his body onto hers and leaned his head closer to hers. His breath smelled of alcohol and tobacco. She wanted to vomit again.
But, there was nothing in her stomach.
"Now, darling, let's get these dainty little hands secured."
He reached into the back of his jeans pocket and pulled out another pair of handcuffs. She clenched her jaw and watched as he cuffed her wrists and held her hands above her head.
"Keep those there, understand, princess?"
She worked her jaw and nodded through her tears.
This couldn't be happening. She couldn't submit to this.
He leaned his body up, still straddling her hips. She tilted her head back willing her tears not to fall when she felt… felt that thing press up against her thigh.
She gulped audibly and clenched her fists tighter. She couldn't let this happen.
His hands went to his belt and she tried her best not to gag as his eyes worked their way up and down her body. She hated feeling this exposed. This vulnerable. She was Quinn fucking Fabray. She didn't feel vulnerable.
Except, she did.
Her status didn't help her here. In fact, it probably made her worse for wear. It wasn't like her father cared about her anymore. He wasn't going to pay her ransom or whatever this sickass man would want. Her mother wouldn't probably even realize she was missing until it was too late. Coming from a family all about status and not about love was definitely not playing in her favor right now.
His fingers unbuttoned his pants quickly and then ran their way up her thighs.
She wasn't ready for this.
She wasn't ready for sex.
Not again, anyway.
But, that wouldn't matter to this man. This vile, evil man.
He wouldn't care that she wanted to save herself for the person she loved. She shook her head at the thought of those big, brown doe eyes. She didn't want to remember her when this was happening. Her beautiful memory did not need to be here.
He wouldn't care that she was still scarred from giving up her daughter.
He wouldn't care.
Because he only cared about himself.
He leaned his body down over hers slowly.
She couldn't let this happen.
She wouldn't.
Maybe she couldn't run away and maybe she couldn't always stop him; but she was going to at least stall.
Her knees bent forcefully into his groin as she simultaneously swung her hands down onto his neck - the metal chain digging its way into the red flesh.
James cried out in pain lifting up off of her. Quinn used all the force she could to bring her legs up, tuck them in, and spring them out against the mans face. Blood gushed from his nose and Quinn would've smirked at the thought of breaking it again if she weren't so scared.
She tucked her knees to her chest again and extended them as hard as she could into his chest, effectively knocking him back and onto his butt.
She panted hard and focused on channeling all of her stunt knowledge. She closed her eyes, bent her legs and rolled herself onto her upper back. She quickly extended her legs and managed to get upright onto her feet. James growled and grabbed at her, but she used the handcuffs to her advantage and hit him roughly in the temple. She clenched her jaw together as the metal dug hard into her wrists.
James yelled out, his hands flying to his temple and blood began trickling down. She hobbled over on her cuffed feet to the opened van doors.
She had to try.
11:16 PM
It had been hours since she had dropped her friends off and returned home. She should be asleep by now. She had school tomorrow; she should have been asleep by 10:30 like she usually was. But, her feeling of dread had increased almost twenty fold about two and half hours ago. Something horrible had been happening right then and she didn't know what it was or how to stop it.
When she had come home shaking and barely breathing her fathers had been worried, rightfully so. They sat her on the couch (only for her to get up a second later and start pacing) and brought her tea. They comforted her and told her that everyone was okay. That there was nothing to worry about; that they would protect her.
She tried, oh she tried, to tell them that the feeling of pain and sorrow and despair was not from fear of something happening to her, but fear of something unknown happening to someone important. She didn't know who and she didn't know how. She tried to explain to them that she needed to go back out; that she needed to find out what was wrong, but through her hysterics they just guided her to her room and held her securely until she was able to breathe between her hiccups. They laid her in bed and brought her a glass of water. They really were wonderful fathers.
But, they didn't know how dire a situation this was becoming.
Her palms began sweating, along with the rest of her body. She kicked her covers off and curled into a ball. She rocked and scratched at the skin closest to her nails. She needed to feel something besides the knot in her stomach - whirling around and hitting her inner walls with such force she thought she might be knocked over the side of the bed.
For the first time today tears sprang up into her eyes because she finally came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to be able to figure out what was wrong. She needed to know desperately. She wanted to help. Somebody out there needed her help. And she couldn't give it to them. She was left with this horrible feeling of death and guilt and trepidation and someone out there was left with something probably much, much, much worse.
She cried until she passed out.
~0~
Monday, April 11, 2011
5:55 AM
Slowly, serenely, Rachel opened her eyes to her dark room. Birds were quietly chirping out her window. She reached for the comforter at her feet and pulled it over her cold body. She snuggled into the newly found warmth and sighed softly. Her breaths were soft and slow as she made her way into the new day. She had five minutes until her alarm rang and she wanted to savor every second of the quiet warmth that surrounded her.
That was, until she felt a familiar weight settle in her stomach.
She sat up immediately and stared wide-eyed into her room. She couldn't believe how selfish she had been to forget - to not feel. She tried to be rational and tell herself that, that was in no way selfish. But she couldn't help. She felt like the most selfish person alive, especially since she couldn't help the one person out there who desperately needed her assitance.
Rachel reached over and turned her alarm off. She definitely wouldn't need it now.
She got up slowly and eyed her elliptical. She didn't feel like putting her body under the extra stress, but she knew that she would hate herself later for being so lazy. She furrowed her brow as she threw on her workout clothes and stepped onto the machine. The buttons and numbers all looked so foreign to her. Nothing made sense. She moved her legs slowly and immediately are legs screamed at her, "If you're going to run, run somewhere worthwhile!"
She shook her head and stepped off. The elliptical wasn't going to happen this morning.
She grabbed her phone and headphones and walked downstairs. Her fathers weren't awake yet so she left them a simple note, "Gone for a morning run. Will return shortly to get ready for school."
She sighed quietly as she slipped out the door. The feeling was sort of numb now, but it was still pressing down on her gut like an one hundred pound weight - instead of pounding at her sides insistently.
The morning was glum. A light fog filled the air and the sun wasn't even on the horizon. She placed her headphones in and began her run to who-knows-where.
~0~
6:03 AM
She let her feet guide her. She didn't know where she was going or why she was going in the direction she was. All she knew was that there seemed to be a rope around that weight in her stomach that was tugging her this and that way.
Her feet slammed against the pavement and her speed picked up. Wherever she was going she apparently needed to get there fast.
The cold air stung her cheeks and invaded her nostrils. It caused her throat to become dry and burn. She didn't care, as long as she was feeling something other than the fear.
~0~
6:18 AM
The tugging stopped, so her feet slowed. She panted and looked around for signs of where she was exactly. She was in a neighborhood not too far from her own. It was a fancy neighborhood, too, with houses that were more like mini-mansions and immaculate lawns trimmed to perfection.
She eyed the properties around her before turning to the one she had stopped in front of. It looked familiar. She walked towards the end of the road to look at the street sign. Her eyes widened in recognition as she jogged back to the front of the house.
114 Dudley Road.
"Quinn's house."
A jolt seemed to stab her in the stomach and she closed her eyes tightly trying to gain control of the pain and anxiety. This was definitely where she was supposed to be. Something was wrong with Quinn.
It was an ungodly hour, but she had to do it; she had to knock on the front door. She had to know that Quinn was okay. Maybe then the nagging feeling deep in her gut would go away.
She jogged quickly up to the front door. Light was streaming out from the frosted windows beside the door. Somebody was awake.
She desperately hoped it was Quinn.
She rang the doorbell and bounced from foot to foot as she waited for it to open.
Her heart fell when a disheveled Judy Fabray answered the door. Her eyes were puffy and her hair was in a simple ponytail.
This was the most casual Judy Fabray Rachel had ever seen and it shocked her. Because, in all honesty, Mrs. Fabray looked better this way.
Rachel must have been making a surprised face because the older woman simply raised an eyebrow at her.
"She doesn't do it as well as Quinn. No one will ever do it as well as Quinn."
"May I help you?"
Rachel cleared her throat and gave the woman a slight nod.
"Yes, I am a friend of Quinn's," her heart warmed at the thought of being Quinn's friend, finally, "And I was wondering if…" She hesitated. She didn't know how to tell Quinn's mother that she'd been having a horrible feeling about Quinn's safety for the last fifteen hours.
"If she's ready? We had planned to go on a jog together this morning."
She gave a small smile to the woman, proud about her quick thinking. However, she wasn't expecting tears to spring to Mrs. Fabray's eyes.
Rachel frowned gently and looked over the woman's face. The feeling in her gut blossomed like a poisonous flower. Something was definitely wrong with Quinn; especially if Mrs. Fabray was showing her emotions to someone who was practically a stranger.
"I'm sorry, honey, but Quinn isn't in at the moment. Maybe some other time."
The older blonde made a move to shut the door, but Rachel stepped forward and stopped her, "Please tell me what has happened with Quinn. I need to know."
Something must have shown on Rachel's face because Ms. Fabray actually nodded and said, "Come into the foyer, dear. It's chilly out."
Rachel stepped in quickly and rubbed her hands together; both to warm her up and to just give her hands something to do.
The house was flawless. It was decorated as if it were out of a magazine. Paintings of flowers and different scenery hung on the walls, instead of family photos. It was a far cry from the warm feeling of Rachel's home.
She stood in the foyer awkwardly as Mrs. Fabray walked into the kitchen. This was so out of her element, but she would do anything to know why she had been feeling the way she had.
Mrs. Fabray called out, "Please, please, come into the dining area…"
"Rachel," she supplied with a gentle smile. She was trying her best to be calm. She didn't want to ambush the older woman. It was obvious that she hadn't gotten much sleep last night.
"Right, Rachel," The woman nodded as Rachel sat on one of the bar stools. Mrs. Fabray handed her a cup of coffee and she took it gratefully. She was almost dead on her feet, her late night and run catching up with her.
"Quinn.. she didn't come home yesterday."
Rachel eyes widened and her coffee almost spewed from her mouth. She swallowed forcefully, ignoring the burn that made its way down her esophagus.
"D-do you know where she is? Has she answered her phone or?"
Mrs. Fabray held up her hand and Rachel shut her mouth immediately.
"I don't know where she is. Her phone just rings and goes straight to voicemail. She isn't answering. I think she ran away, Rachel."
Rachel looked into the cup of coffee. The dark liquid sat there reflecting her stare back up at her.
"No, no, she didn't run away. Not after fighting so hard to get her house back," Rachel replied quietly, talking more to herself than to the blonde. She didn't noticed Mrs. Fabray's guilty face at the mention of her daughter coming back to live with her.
Rachel met the blondes hazel eyes; older, and tired, but not as wise and cunning as Quinn's.
"Did you contact the police?"
"Of course, I did. She's my daughter."
Rachel wasn't phased by the older woman's defensive tone, she just nodded and stared back down in her coffee trying to figure out where Quinn might be. If the feeling in her gut had been any indication, she wasn't in a good place.
"Where was she before she disappeared?"
"She went on a run, that's all I know."
"You don't know the direction or her route or anything?"
Another guilty look crossed the woman's features before becoming passive again - not willing to show emotion. Rachel now realized where Quinn got it from.
"No, I do not. I didn't think it would be any of my business."
Anger flared up inside of Rachel, but it only made it's presence known with a clenched jaw. How could Mrs. Fabray be so naive? So juvenile and uninformed? She realized that she wasn't the best mother in the universe, but you would think she could have taken the time to know Quinn's whereabouts! They could have a trail figured out, a plan to find her, if Judy Fabray had taken the time to give a damn!
She glanced over to the clock on the oven as an excuse to excuse herself. It was time she started back home so she wouldn't be late for school.
Mrs. Fabray nodded when Rachel told her and walked her to the door.
"Thank you for stopping by, Rachel."
The brunette turned around when she stepped onto the porch and met Mrs. Fabray's eyes, "Quinn is an amazing girl. Wherever she is right now, I can assure you that after everything she has been through she does not deserve it. It is admirable that you called the police because that is the right thing to do, but if I were you I would be banging on every door in this town, I'd be searching every forest, I'd be checking every car, hotel, and hostel looking for that girl; and I wouldn't stop until I found her. Because she deserves to be cared enough for to at least have her own mother searching for her day and night. If you don't, I will. Because she deserves to be found. Runaway or not, I'm going to make sure of it."
And with that, she ran off down the road before Mrs. Fabray could even open her mouth to respond.
A/N: That was a rollercoaster of a chapter, goodness. I hope you enjoyed it. If you noticed, I am not including times with Quinn's part because each part is the narrative of each girl in a sense; which means that since Quinn doesn't know what time it is, I'm not going to tell y'all what time it is lol. Just have to infer and what not! I hope that's okay!
I also hope you liked this chapter and hope that you're liking how the story is developing. I'm not sure this is exactly how I was wanting it to play out, but I'm liking it anyway. Also, who else thinking Quinn listens to pop punk (referring to chapter one here)? Anyway, suggestions/comments would be appreciated! Thanks for reading!