Chapter Three

"All stones are broken stones."

Mercedes was hysterical. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably and she sat on the sidewalk, as near to the entrance of the school as she dared. Only two hours previously, she had been talking to Mr. Schuester about her low grade in Spanish. Now, her C- was the last thing from her mind. Clutching her arms to her torso, she rocked back and forth slightly, attempting and failing to fill her lungs. She gritted her teeth against another surfacing round of sobs, succeeding in only silently releasing the tears that were welling in her eyes.

She looked up when someone said her name. Matt and Mike stood in front of her, looking like lost puppies. Matt had a scrape across his cheek from his nose to his ear. "Are you all right?" he asked. Wordlessly, she nodded. "Do…do you need a ride?" he offered. She shook her head. Her dad was on his way. The next time she looked up, the two of them were gone.

A shout of "Coming through!" cut through the din, and a gurney was rushed past her, a tall and broad-shouldered boy in a football blazer strapped on top with his feet dangling off the end. An oxygen cup was pressed over his nose and mouth, his face pale, and his eyes were dull and half-open, his jacket stained with enormous blotches of dark red. "Finn?" Mercedes said, lurching to her feet and following the gurney as fast as her feet would carry her.

"One, two, three!" a medic counted. On three, the EMTs heaved and lifted him into the back of the nearest ambulance. Mercedes watched in shock as two of the medics rushed off with the gurney to find some other injured person and the other two stayed behind to tend to Finn. "His pulse is slowing," one of them said with a warning tone, keeping her fingers on the side of his throat. "Damn it, he's crashing, get me V-fib, stat!" she ordered as her partner slammed the ambulance doors shut. The last thing Mercedes heard before they closed was the EMT speaking urgently to Finn. "Don't fall asleep on me, kiddo. Don't you dare close your eyes!"

The vehicle worked its way out of the crowded parking lot and drove off down the road at top speed, sirens wailing, leaving Mercedes standing alone and lost. She didn't know what she could do or say or who to go to. Everyone she came across was either busy or just as confused as her. After all, who could you turn to when you had no idea if your friends were alive or dead?

Mercedes was so dizzy with the rush of events that at first she didn't notice when someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Mer-Mercedes?" asked a trembling voice. She turned to see Brittany, looking just as lost, if not more so. "Have…have you seen Santana?"

The innocence in Brittany's tone was enough to break Mercedes' heart. "No, I'm sorry," she said, hiccupping and fighting yet another stream of tears.

The cheerleader simply gave an upset nod and wandered off in search of her friend. Mercedes headed back toward the sidewalk; she had to sit down. The dizziness was getting worse, and she was battling a heavy wave of nausea to boot. Where was her dad?

She jumped when her phone, forgotten in her back pocket, buzzed. Pulling it out, she glanced at the screen and rushed to answer it. "Quinn? Oh, my God, are you okay?"

"Mercedes! Thank God, I haven't been able to get a hold of anyone else," Quinn's voice sounded on the other end. "Finn's not picking up and I can't find him. Have you seen him?"

Mercedes wiped her eyes, pausing before she answered. "…No,"she lied. It hurt to lie to Quinn, but it was somehow impossible to admit Finn's current situation. "Who else have you tried to call?" she managed to ask.

"Everybody! All the Cheerios, all the Glee kids; I even tried to call Ms. Sylvester! Nobody's answering!" Quinn cried, her voice rising in pitch.

"I just saw Brittany," Mercedes told her. "She's fine, and so are Matt and Mike, but I haven't been able to find anyone else either. Did you try anyone's home numbers?"

"The only home numbers I have are Finn's and Puck's, and neither of them are there," Quinn answered tearfully. "God, Mercedes, what are we going to do?"

Mercedes took a long breath in an attempt to steady her nerves; she always responded to problems better when someone was looking to her for answers. "Where are you now?"

Quinn sniffled. "I'm still at school. I can't call my parents."

"Meet me by the front entrance, okay? You're coming home with me," Mercedes said, not waiting for Quinn to question her on the decision. "I'm going to call some more people." Hanging up, she immediately dialed Kurt's home number, followed by Artie's, and then Rachel's. Rachel was the only person to answer.

"Hello?" She sounded exhausted.

"Rachel! It's Mercedes."

"Oh, my God, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, are you?"

"Yes, I'm all right. I think. Puck is here, too; he got hit in the head but he's okay."

"Thank God," Mercedes said. "Quinn's losing it; I'll tell her he's all right."

"Quinn? Is she hurt?"

"No, she's fine. So are Mike, Matt, and Brittany. I can't find anyone else; no one's answering their phones."

"That's not surprising," Rachel stated, her voice deadpanned. "It's already all over the news."

"What are they saying?" Mercedes asked, her voice picking up hopefully.

There was a pause on the other end, then a quiet sigh. "Six people," she said, and Mercedes' heart leapt into her throat. "They haven't said who yet."

"Oh, God," Mercedes breathed, rubbing her forehead. Looking up, she saw Quinn working her way through the mess of emergency vehicles and running people towards her. "Rachel, I gotta go. Tell Puck I'm glad he's okay."

"I will," Rachel promised. "Take care of Quinn. And yourself. If I find out anything else, you'll be the first to know. Goodbye, Mercedes."

Mercedes hung up the phone just as Quinn walked up. "That was Rachel," she said. "She says Puck's okay; he's with her. You all right?"

Quinn hugged her arms around her body, protecting her baby bump. "I…I don't know. I f-fell down," she said, her eyes growing watery.

Mercedes drew the cheerleader into a hug made awkward by Quinn's protruding stomach. "The baby's gonna be fine," she said softly. "Right now, all we gotta do is wait for my dad, then we can get out of here. All right?"

Tearfully, Quinn nodded.

"Quinn, why can't you call your Mom and Dad?"

The look that Quinn gave her was not murderous, like it would have been any other day, but instead was a mixture of sadness and complete and utter fear. "They kicked me out of the house, remember?" she said, trying and failing to maintain her usual biting tone.

"You don't think that after something like this—?"

Quinn hastily shook her head, looking down at her hands, although Mercedes couldn't tell whether the action was from grief or shame. She sighed, at a loss for how to help the pregnant girl who she'd used to hate. Their past animosities seemed so trivial now as they sat together on the sidewalk, surrounded by chaos, with Mercedes' arm draped over Quinn's shoulder.