Author's note: Yep, I'm still going.

Leave a review if you like what you see and I'll keep writing.

I still don't own Glee or Vampires.

The next two nights Quinn remained in her room, unable to move much further than her dresser. Whatever Rachel had done to her, it had completely sapped her of all energy. It was the same lack of strength that occurred in sunlight, except there was no way to draw the shades and hide. Her mouth had been continuously healing itself, which may lend itself to why she felt so weak. Healing on a normal basis took only a bit of energy, but healing constantly was another story. Finally on Sunday the wounds started to stay closed, meaning whatever had been done to her had finally worked its way out of her system. Now that she was able to move again, the realization that she had neglected to eat the night she attacked Rachel sank in. She was starving; another aspect that had kept her in bed for so long. She couldn't imagine drinking blood while her mouth was in such a state, however.

"Mo-om!" She called, her voice cracking in the middle of the word. She still didn't have much of a voice. There was some rustling downstairs and the sound of footsteps, and then Judy opened the door to her daughter's room. She looked concerned, but seeing her daughter propped up on her elbows in bed made her face brighten up.

"Quinn, how are you feeling?" Her mother asked. Quinn was immediately distracted by the reverberation of blood pounding in veins in the previously soundless room. She could almost feel her eyes changing as they dilated and lightened to gold almost immediately. Her reactions were back to normal at least.

"What time is it?" She breathed, looking away from her mother's bony neck. She hardly looked like she would be able to stand a bit of blood loss. Quinn couldn't even fathom how she was thinking of her own mother like that. It was… well, what she always hated to discover in herself; it was something inhuman.

"It's one in the afternoon, I just finished lunch," Her mother reported, lingering in the doorway. Quinn swore out loud, not caring if her mother heard or not; she wasn't going to risk walking around in the sun after being in such a state for so long. "Quinn, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Quinn could only shake her head. There was nothing to tell her mother, not until she found out more for herself. "I don't know what happened," she half-lied, kicking her feet out the side of her bed. Quinn looked haggard and disheveled as she sat on the edge of her bed, her short hair falling around her face messily as she stared down at the floor. She tried to remember the incident to tell if there was something she had missed, something that could have caused a reaction like that, but nothing came to mind.

Judy took a step forward and the percussion of her blood only grew louder. Without looking up Quinn raised a hand for her to stop, and the pale and lengthening fingers and sharpened claws caused her mother to gasp audibly. Maternal instinct was far outweighed by the fear of seeing her daughter turning into something no one quite understood. Quinn's fingers clenched and hesitated back at the sound her mother had made, knowing she was something unsightly, something inhuman. As supportive as her mother wanted to be, she still couldn't bear to see the sight of her.

"Just go, mom," Quinn looked away. There was nothing more that needed to be said to convince her mother. She had backed up and closed the door behind her after only a slight hesitation. She knew the danger her daughter posed, and in the back of her mind she doubted that a single wooden door would stop her if she decided to turn and attack. With good reason, of course.

Left alone in the darkness of her room, Quinn's eyes automatically adjusted to the low light. Her blackout shades did more than a number on the midday sunlight behind them, making the room pitch dark. Judy Fabray had spared no expense on keeping her little monster safe from the big, bad sun. Now if everyone else in the house was just as safe from her…

Putting her mother in the back of her mind, Quinn stood in the center of her room, looking at her reflection in the mirror of her boudoir. She opened her mouth and saw that what had looked like first degree burns the day prior had now returned to normal. Just as expected, of course, but she was still surprised something that seemed so serious had just gone away without so much as leaving a mark. Of course after not feeding for four days her fangs were extended, sharp points glistening in the darkness. Her tongue ran over them once, causing a slight shiver to course through her body as it flicked past the sharp tips of each incisor. They became sensitive whenever she had neglected to feed.

This thought brought her back to her current dilemma: she hadn't had blood since the small dose Santana had given her. Quinn knew that Santana had kept those for emergencies just to get her through the day; they weren't meant for extended use. The real extent of her supply was kept at home, where she could run back to where no one but Brittany could see. Three days was the maximum duration, and that was pushing it. Quinn had gone four days and spent roughly half that time healing. Her cheekbones were becoming more pronounced and her collarbones were already jutting out of her skin. She didn't even have the power to retract her fangs at this point, which was clearly a bad sign.

Her nigh-starvation aside, her thoughts shifted to Rachel. It had been plaguing her since the encounter, but she was still unable to wrap her mind around what had happened. She had thought back to all of the stories about vampires, trying to reach some conclusion. She hadn't tasted garlic in her blood, and that was just an old count's tale. She hadn't been wearing anything like a cross either. Berry was Jewish, but that was totally besides the fact. There had to be something in her blood, something that made Rachel who she was that had caused the reaction. She obviously wasn't a vampire herself…

Was she? Quinn immediately stopped and backtracked. She had never tried to suck another vampire's blood. How would her body react to that sort of thing? Was there a threat to vampires from the blood of their kin?

This new thought settled in the blonde's mind as she sank into her desk chair, now suddenly aware that she was in darkness. She curled her knees into her chest and sighed, taking out her cell phone. It wasn't even two in the afternoon yet; she wasn't going anywhere any time soon. Best to just get settled in and wait until nightfall. Once the sun was down, humans beware. A vampire this hungry was bound to cause some damage. There was still Rachel she had to figure out. What could possibly have done that much damage? The phone in her hand silently vibrated, as if offering an answer to the unspoken question. She frowned as she saw the sender, however.

Im downstairs, the text read.

Like clockwork Quinn could hear a knock at the door, her mother answering it with a surprised tone in her voice. The sound of footsteps up the main staircase closely followed, and then the door to her room opened, light from the hallway spilling into the inky blackness. The broad figure stood in the doorway, his eyes catching on the two yellow rings watching his movements.

"Finn," Quinn exhaled his name, not moving from her seat. He stumbled around for the light switch on the wall. He had been in this room often enough to know where it was. Finally locating it, the lights above her bed flashed on, and her reaction was to immediately recoil. She hid her face in her knees, trying to keep her features hidden from one of the only people who knew her true nature. Finn stepped forward boldly, far more boldly than any human had the right to.

"You attacked Rachel?" He demanded. She gave a huff, knowing this was the only reason he had come to see her.

"Given that I was the one nursing myself back to health, I'd say she was the one who attacked me," she hissed back.

"Quinn, look at me," his volume rose. She shook her head into her knees, refusing to show him just how far she was falling. She couldn't let him see her boney cheeks and sunken eyes, and she especially didn't want to get the smell of blood from him. She could already hear it much the same as her mother earlier; Finn's blood was always louder and heavier sounding, matching his body type.

"Quinn, look at me!" He repeated, slamming his hands down on the side of her desk. The small objects covering the tabletop rattled against each other with the force of impact, and even the vampire herself jumped in her seat. Slowly she brought her head up from her knees, her yellow eyes meeting his. His mouth was clenched tightly, like it had done whenever he was angry. Like it had done when he broke up with her.

If there was one thing to be said for Finn, it was that he didn't know what fear was. He was either not intelligent enough to understand how dangerous she was, or had placed so much faith into the thought that she wasn't going to hurt him. Either way, he was the only human who would dare get so close to her, knowing what she truly was.

"And what if I did," she asked, glancing away from him. She didn't know why, but she could already feel tears coming on. Vampire tears were the worst.

Finn's jaw clenched at her reply, and she could hear the adrenaline surge into his bloodstream. He was angry, that was certain.

"Stay away from Rachel, Quinn," he demanded, his voice firm.

She could only scoff. "You don't have to tell me twice," She enunciated. "She's poison." Her thoughts went back to celibacy club, where Rachel had used the very same words to describe the jock currently glaring her down. Finn is poison, she had said. The irony of the situation was scathing.

Finn's small mind tried to figure out exactly what was going on. He had expected Quinn would be attacking Rachel to get back at him, but it seemed there was something different with the situation. As he processed this new information, his face softened to that blank stare he sported during Spanish class. He pushed off of her desk and seemed as if he was leaving.

Before he got a single step away, he felt Quinn's hand lash out around his wrist. He glanced back and saw the look of hunger on her face, but her eyes were miserable. "Finn, I'm starving," she tried to tell him, her fangs no longer hidden behind her knees. "Please." She could feel his pulse under the tips of her fingers.

He looked hard back at her, then snapped his wrist out of her grasp. "I'm not your blood bank anymore," He growled. Even from arms length she could see past the collar of his orange vest to the scars of past bites littering his neck like a minefield. "Stay away from Rachel and stay away from me," He repeated. She didn't even have the energy to stop him as he closed the door behind him. Quinn was left in the darkness, curling her knees back into her chest once more.

Finally she reached for her phone again and typed out another text message.

It's Quinn. Can I come over?

She hesitated a moment, then pressed the green send button.

Halfway across town in Lima Heights, a cell phone buzzed on a side table.