AN: Since I forgot/neglected to add it at the start... -DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee or any of its characters. Because, if I did own it, it would be so much different and Faberry would be STARTGAME, MIDGAME and ENDGAME. And Finn would be attacked by a swarm of ravenous bees each and every episode.

Credit to pressedlemonsaur .tumblr .com for the cover art! She is willing to make more for other fanfictions, if you request it.

Reviews and queries are strongly encouraged! (you may also send them to my tumblr (thecapitolwhore), if you wish). Feedback makes me want to update faster!


Chapter 4:

She had abandoned her car in the safety of the darkness. Her eyes were trained on the small dark cabin, lit only by the weak headlights of the two cars in front of it. One of the cars belonged, unfortunately, to her – ex – boyfriend; however, Rachel didn't even want to consider Finn's part in this right now.

Yet she had to know what was going on inside that cabin.

Finn always left the keys to his truck on top of the front left wheel. Even so, Rachel had to fumble around in the darkness for a few moments before finding them; she was terrified that even the light of her mobile phone would alert the men and Quinn in the cabin to her presence. If Quinn's life was truly in danger, then taking that chance would be far too reckless. Laying low and without notice was key to survival.

Unlocking Finn's passenger door, Rachel crept in and closed it quietly behind her. She was cloaked by darkness in here, and to be honest, it was much warmer than the rapidly falling temperatures of outside. The cosy atmosphere of Finn's truck, where many a - slightly awkward and overly enthusiastic - make out session had occurred between her and Finn in the past, almost succeeded in calming Rachel's nerves. Alas, a glimpse back up at the cabin, in which Quinn was no doubt trapped, reminded Rachel that her nerves were well-placed. Perhaps some adrenaline would do her some good too, should it hit at the correct moment.

Rachel began her search. Plenty of Twinkie wrappers littered the floor of the truck, as well as the strong stench of bad tacos – the meaty smell made the vegan Rachel gag in disgust – and music sheets from Glee Club rehearsal were piled into a messy stack next to Rachel. Opening a hatch, Finn's mobile phone had been thrown in there, probably just before he vacated the vehicle a few minutes ago.

She took the phone and flipped it open; a picture of her and Finn smiling, her placing a soft kiss on his cheek, stared back at her. The lump in her throat re-emerged and she quickly clicked onto his 'call log'. Other than numerous phone calls to her, Puck, and his mum, nothing seemed amiss.

Suddenly, she saw something that made her double-track. "Quick Solutions" was the contact name and they had called him once about an hour ago; the call had lasted one minute and twelve seconds.

Glancing once back up at the cabin (through the dirty window, partially covered by an unknown man, she could see Finn advance forward, talking down to someone – Quinn? - and he didn't look happy), she clicked the 'call' button.

After three rings, an automated voice spoke, "Quick Solutions: Tie Up Your Loose Ends with America's Number Three Hit Service. Press one to order a hit and we'll connect you through to one of our servicers. Press two to be connected to a supervisor. Press three to confirm a hit. Press four for our special deals and offers this month!" The female voice was cheerful and professional, as if ignorant of the true meaning her words held. Rachel swallowed. The voice was starting to say, "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Press one to order a hit -" She pressed the 'end call' button.

It took Rachel a few moments to catch up with her rampant thoughts. A hit? Meaning an assassination? Why the hell would Finn want to order a hit on anyone, let alone Quinn!

Digging through the hatch again, Rachel found something else she wished she hadn't.

A small revolver, most likely stolen from Burt's locker or somewhere similar, was hidden beneath a few more music sheets.

"Finn, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?" she whispered, her wide eyes slowly raising to watch the cabin; the hand holding the gun trembled. Then, almost as if he'd heard her speak, Finn appeared at the cabin's entrance. He paused, said something Rachel couldn't make out, and then stomped down the steps to his truck.

Rachel gave a little squeak and ducked. It didn't matter anyway; he would see her as soon as he got into the truck. The gun fell into her lap.

When he couldn't find his keys on the wheel and had conducted a quick search on the ground around it, Finn figured he must have left them in the ignition – it wouldn't be the first time. The door was unlocked, which should have registered something being strange with the frankenteen. Yet it didn't, and he got into the truck with a light sigh of someone who has just finished an annoying but worthwhile deed.

"Rachel?!" The gun seemed to raise itself but all Rachel knew was that when Finn entered the car and saw his ex girlfriend sat on the seat beside him, the shaking gun was half a foot higher and pointed at his chest.

She didn't know what to say to him. Who could? He had betrayed hers and Quinn's trust completely and was going to sit in this old truck while that man murdered Quinn in that goddamn cabin.

"Call it off!" Rachel shouted, the gun, although shaking, did not remove its aim from Finn's torso. "Call off the hit!"

"R-Rachel? What are you doing here? What the hell are you doing with Burt- my gun? Rachel, please. Just calm down," Finn pushed himself back against the door of the truck, his terrified eyes finding the gun. He raised his hands in the air in a surrendering gesture. It was a struggle to keep himself from screaming and his voice calming.

"You want to kill Quinn! Dead, Finn – what the fuck are you thinking? It's Quinn!" Rachel continued to shout, jerking the gun at Finn. Her voice was shrill and her expression was a mixture of horrified disbelief and utter fury.

"I know it's Quinn, Rachel! But that's it, isn't it? It's always Quinn!" Finn argued back, although his fear still remained. He wanted her more than anything to understand him and his motives. Yet he had hoped she would never found out about this. His plan was rapidly unravelling before his eyes and it scared him to death. He couldn't lose Rachel after all of this - all his work and time spent doing this. For them.

"Not this again. Finn, stop it! Stop this madness. Please!" Her eyes still on her cowering boyfriend, Rachel let a hand off the gun and scrambled around to grab Finn's mobile, which she had placed back in the hatch. Seizing it, she tossed the phone toward Finn. "Call them and tell... tell them you've changed your mind. Tell them you don't want Quinn to die. Tell them it's over!"

Finn disconnected his eyes from the gun to stare down at the mobile in his lap. He seemed afraid to touch it, almost as if it were a poisonous snake poised to attack. "I – I can't... Rachel, I can't," he said, a moment later. He refused to meet her eyes.

"Can't or won't?" Rachel's lips curled into a cruel snarl, before she relaxed a little, attempting a different approach. "Please Finn, don't let her die. I... I love you. Not her." On second thought, that truth could be debatable, especially after everything that had happened between the three of them, but now wasn't the time to inform Finn of that detail.

Finn thought for a second, then replied in a low but strong voice. "I won't, Rachel. I may lose you over this but in the long run, she will be the distraction that will destroy you. I love you, though, and will always be there for you. Then, maybe, one day, if you forgive me, you can learn to really love me again."

Rachel was past being shocked or disappointed – but she wasn't about to give up; Quinn's life depended on her next move.

"Get out of the truck, Finn," she tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, despite the pounding her heart was going through in that moment.

Finn tried to argue, even going so far as to reach for his truck keys on Rachel's own lap but she slapped his hand away and kicked him roughly in the calf with her kitten heeled shoes. "Get out!" she repeated, this time the tone was more threatening, pushing the gun closer to him.

If she had to, would she really be able to shoot him?

He obeyed. Shuffling out of the car, Rachel followed him through the same door, gun constantly trained on his back, closing it with a light pat that felt too loud.

"Go to the door," she ordered, tapping him with the gun. He twitched at the touch but did not react otherwise.

Thinking back to several action/adventure movies Puck had made Rachel watch with him last Hanukkah, Rachel would never have thought she'd be starring in her own. Although she couldn't help praying that the genre 'action' would be used loosely in this situation. Approaching the door and seeing the shadow of the hired assassin through the crack, looming over a still Quinn, she just had time to remember to flick off the safety, before her adrenaline kicked in.

With surprising strength, Rachel shoved Finn to the side, kicked the door open with a loud bang that ricocheted around the cabin like a gun shot and ran inside. She directed her gun at the man's back and screamed, "Get the fuck away from her, you piece of shit!"

Silence.

Then, a weak voice broke the silence.

"R-Rachel?"

"Quinn!" Momentarily forgetting the highly dangerous situation they found themselves in, Rachel ran over to the handcuffed Quinn, who was blinking speedily in an attempt to comprehend Rachel's sudden appearance, and took her into a warm hug. "Quinn, I'm here. I'm here for you. You're safe. You're safe, sweetie."

"Not quite," Jensen interrupted the girls' embrace. "Now I'm going to have to kill you both." He shot a glance back at the astounded Finn, who stood by the door dumbly, although jealous anger was beginning to show as he watched Rachel's protective stance over Quinn. Jensen's added comment of "I may have to charge extra for this," went unheard by Quinn.

"Leave her alone! Or I'll shoot!" Rachel threatened, waving her gun in Jensen's direction. For a moment, she considered pointing it toward Finn but he most definitely couldn't be considered as much of a threat to them as the assassin he'd hired.

"You've never used a gun in your life. I can see from the way you're holding it. So don't threaten me, little girl. I can kill you both in one shot and be out of here in five minutes," Jensen told Rachel, narrowing his eyes a little. So this was the Rachel everyone was fighting over? She didn't seem like much – a little short, big nose and too much determination in her eyes for his liking. Still, he appreciated her ambition; there weren't many left like her that he'd met. Her stubborn resilience was impressive.

"Whatever Finn is paying you, I'll double it," Rachel said without hesitation, her gun still pointing at Jensen's rigid form; she stood and straightened her back, doing her best to exude as much authority and confidence as she could muster, even though, inside, all she could consider was how painful a bullet ripping through her, then Quinn, would be.

Jensen laughed a big hearty laugh, but when he finally composed himself enough to return his steady gaze to Rachel, there was some seriousness hiding behind those dark eyes. "How could you possibly begin to get the money for that? You don't even know how much your boyfriend's paying me for this," Jensen challenged.

"My fathers," Rachel replied, her eyes glinting knowingly. "Since I was an infant, they have put together a fund for my future – and it's larger than you would have thought possible for a couple of their salaries. I am quite certain that it will be enough to cover the expenses." Her face betrayed no word of a lie; either this girl was one hell of an actress or she was telling the truth, Jensen thought to himself.

"Rachel, don't! That's your future! I won't let you give up NYADA for me – you belong in New York!" Quinn whispered furiously to Rachel, just managing to lift a restrained hand enough to tug at Rachel's jacket. The blonde did not want to die, but she would rather do just that than sacrifice Rachel's future. Rachel's future was everything to the brunette - her own life.

"Be quiet, Quinn!" Rachel said without turning. "In return, you and your company will never go near Quinn Fabray again," Rachel continued, talking to Jensen. "You will disregard your previous mission and leave Lima, Ohio, and not look back. If you hurt Quinn, ever, the deal is off and I will find you and I promise that I will hurt you – no matter what you believe I am capable of." Rachel's expression was fierce and true; not one person in that room doubted her words.

"Fair enough," Jensen said, a moment later, after taking her words into deep consideration. If the girl was being honest and could deliver the money, he could pocket his original fee and a bit more, and give QS the remaining money to stop their whining about his incomplete job. "But how do I know you're not just bluffing?"

"You don't," replied Rachel simply, angling her head a little to the left and never breaking eye contact. She was on risky ground but couldn't falter yet. "It's up to you whether to believe me or not. I would recommend the former, however, if you would like to go somewhere nice for the summer," Rachel added, licking her dry lips as her nerves threatened to break through.

The big boss would not be pleased at this turnaround. Nevertheless, for a while, Jensen had been considering getting out of the game – should he get that extra money, he would be two steps closer to turning his back on the company and that bitch of a boss. It was too tempting an offer.

Rachel's heart thumped all the wilder when she saw the brief but positive change in her foe's expression; could this really be working? She was literally giving up her life's savings for Quinn's life but she knew it was completely worth it, and now, this was happening.

Until Finn Hudson opened his big mouth.

"We have a deal, Jensen. Turn your back on it and I will tell the police, the company, the President, whoever I can, about this. You will go to prison," Finn warned, half desperately. They had come so far; giving up now was a joke. Anyway, Finn had spent all of his own college funds (and even some of Kurt's) on this endeavour. What other choice did he have but to see it through?

Jensen spun on his heel and rounded on Finn. "Look, kid, you may think you're the boss of me but you're not, okay? I could kill you without you even realising it, so you can go eat shit if you think you can threaten me," Jensen shoved the taller teenager backward, causing Finn to slam painfully into the frame of the door.

Rachel took a step forward in reflex. Despite her current feelings toward her ex-boyfriend, she didn't want to see him hurt.

Fear mixed with anger was evident in Finn's expression but he made no move to act on it. However, he wasn't done with his words. "We have a deal. Don't go back on it," Rachel could just about hear him murmur to Jensen, who stiffened in response.

Jensen lifted a hand and for a terrifying moment, Rachel thought he was either going to smack or strangle Finn. Instead, he clapped a hand on Finn's shoulder, in what could be described as a companionly gesture. Finn even chanced a grin at this.

That was when Jensen whacked a hand across Finn's face, hitting him through the cabin's open doorway and landing just out of view of Quinn and Rachel, the latter of whom was trying desperately to slip Quinn's hands from the cuffs. "Don't tell me what to do!" Jensen screamed, his voice filling the night sky and sleeping birds scattering into the clouds. The muffled thump of a boot hitting Finn's stomach echoed through the trees.

Rachel froze, scrambling to pick up the gun that she had dropped moments earlier to help Quinn. From their position at the side of the small cabin, she could just about make out Finn's feet through the darkness; he wasn't moving. Jensen had knocked him out cold.

The assassin entered the cabin once more; his eyes crazed and his hair ruffled, he did not look happy. "Goddammit!" he shouted to nobody in particular, letting his anger ebb from him in vicious waves, hitting Rachel over and over.

She had to say something. She had to know where they stood. Had Finn truly signed hers and Quinn's death warrant now? Perhaps even his own?

"You'll let Quinn go free now. I will transfer your payment over to you tonight, after you leave Quinn safely to her home – I will even go with you tonight and you can watch..." Rachel spoke quickly, her hand reaching for Quinn's and squeezing it gently.

However, Jensen was barely listening. His mind was a whirlpool of angry, vicious thoughts. "This goddamn job," he growled, waving his gun aimlessly around in front of him. "Should've been a binman, like my dad warned me. But no, had to be adventure, danger, murder. Not worth it," he began muttering, pacing back and forth opposite the girls.

"Mr. Jensen, please. We should go – I called the co-" Shit, no. That was a mistake. Never, ever give up your back-up plan. Never. Rachel zipped her mouth shut, praying he hadn't heard.

No such luck. Her words hit him like a slap to the face.

"Cops!" Jensen was livid. He was in too deep now. He had wasted too much time. It was now or never. If he went back to jail, he was in it for life - or rather, death. He was screwed.

As if on cue, the faint whirring of sirens came into hearing.

He pointed the gun at Quinn first. "This ends tonight. Fuck your money. I'm finishing the job," he told her, striding toward them, gun jabbing the air as he clicked back the safety.

The shot pierced the air, temporarily deafening Rachel, who didn't have time to cover her ears. Not that it mattered, as she leapt to the right. The bullet entered the right side of her abdomen.

Her scream was agonisingly awful; pain erupted through not just her side but her every fibre. The little piece of metal ripped into her flesh, shrapnel exploding and hitting as much of her insides as it could. For all she knew, her mid-section could have been torn clean in half – it certainly felt that way.

Jensen sighed. "For god's sake," he started, cocking his gun again. "That was unnecessary. Either way, you're both going to die."

"Please!" Quinn screamed, finally finding her voice and bending forward to shield Rachel from more harm with her body. "Don't hurt her!" Rachel lay across Quinn's lap, sobbing gently from the pain now that her screams had subsided.

"It'll all be over momentarily. No more pain," Jensen said quietly, bowing his head for a moment as he spoke, and raised his gun, once again for Quinn – after all, the hit was originally intended for her.

Tires on gravel were moving closer - no more than twenty feet from the cabin. "You won't get away," Quinn told him defiantly, very aware of the blood pouring profusely from Rachel's abdomen onto her useless legs. She had to stay strong though; don't react, Quinn; don't cry, she told herself firmly.

Jensen shrugged. "I will or I won't," was his reply. "I'm past caring." There was only the job. Even if the likelihood of this being his last was incredibly strong. Cassie would forgive - she had encouraged this hit anyway.

And then there was a bang and the vision turned black and nothing existed. There was only Quinn and Rachel and the blood slowly dripping from the hole in Jensen's right cheek.

"R-Rachel?" The gun was raised for only a second longer before the weight of it became too much for Rachel and it had to be dropped, clattering to the floor. The sobs continued. Her heart ached. Rachel could feel her mind, soul and everything slowly begin to slip from her, flowing away with the steady stream of blood from her abdomen. No matter how much Quinn tried, her hands could not staunch the flow of blood. It tore her heart in half.

"Oh, god, Rach," Quinn tried to hug Rachel closer, wanting to be as near as possible to her heroine but this only elicited a yelp of pain as the thin material of Quinn's top brushed Rachel's wound.

"I-I'm sorry, Quinn; I'm so sorry," Rachel was weeping. The body of Adam Jensen twitched one final time from where it had fallen to the dirty floor and was still. Quinn and Rachel were alone at last.

Quinn managed a small smile, a rush of emotions hitting her like a flood. "What have I told you about apologising? There's no need. I have plenty to be happy about. Plenty," she whispered, brushing brown hair from Rachel's eyes. It was sticking to her forehead, where a thin layer of pained sweat now rested.

"I know," Rachel replied, her voice quiet and her breaths coming in quick, light bursts. A tear slid from beneath her eyelid, trailing down her cheek onto Quinn's hand, which was gently stroking the brunette's cheek. The simple bead of salty water set Quinn's skin alive and she willed, stronger than ever, for Rachel to keep breathing.

"Please don't leave me, Rachel."

The sirens approached.


AN: I don't usually update this late in the day but school wouldn't allow me to update it any earlier - and it's better than waiting until tomorrow, I guess. Really happy with my new timetable - I have half days every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday, which means more time devoted to my writing. YAY.

By the way, as you probably know, this story was complete weeks ago. Unfortunately, my dad's laptop, on which it was saved, crashed recently. I managed to recover most of the epilogue but this weekend shall be dedicated to rewriting its end. It's annoying to do but it could be worse, right?

Reviews inspire me to write; care to be my muse?