Rachel hates it when Santana automatically assumes that she's the hardest to deal with in a relationship. Especially when she's so smarmy about it, all flippant and just acting like she knows the deal with her and Quinn's relationship, so when they're sat near to one another in Glee Club and just happens to say, "I don't know how Quinn deals with you, Berry. You'd drive me up the fucking wall." She just smiles, because she knows Santana is wrong.

Quinn is the most difficult person she's ever been with, and that's even counting Finn. All he did was sit down and play Call of...whatever it was and rave about Grilled Cheese sandwiches. And although Quinn isn't like that in the slightest, because she's so attentive, and sweet, and caring, and always carrying her books to and from lessons for her, Quinn is just annoying to be with.

Mostly due to the fact that whenever Quinn does something wrong, or tries to bail out on a very important dinner meeting with Hiram Berry so he can finally meet his daughter's allusive girlfriend, she blames it on her wolf.

Her wolf, now the bane of her existence, is coming between the relationship she has with Quinn. Sometimes she wants to rip her hair out when Quinn says something like 'I can't come to dinner tonight, I have to go out hunting' or 'I would see you today, but I was training really hard with Alfred last night and I'm completely wiped out.'

It's a vicious circle that she can't seem to get herself out of.

So she decides to talk to Quinn at lunch. She waits in the cafeteria, at one of the back tables that Quinn, by deed poll, practically owns. She's in the middle of eating the left over lasagna her dad made the night before when she feels such a gentle kiss pressed to the top of her head and then a body thump down beside her.

"Hey baby." It still makes her shudder when Quinn calls her it, and she hopes the feeling with never go away. It's only one word, but to her, it means the world. She's happy that the whole of McKinley know that she and Quinn are together because it just makes things that much easier. No one really knew if Quinn played for one team, so when she walked into McKinley with Rachel Berry on her arm, no one batted an eyelid, except just whisper amongst themselves why two enemies were now dating. But that was all.

"Hey, are you okay?" Quinn smiles and leans in, "Quinn...we're in the cafeteria."

"So?" She glances over her shoulders, "Who cares?" Then she looks back at Rachel, cocky smirk on her face, "I certainly don't."

And they're kissing, and it takes all Rachel has not to just climb onto Quinn's lap, because she can feel that aphrodisiac rushing through her veins already. Their tongues battle in a war for dominance, which eventually, Quinn wins because her tongue does devilish things that makes Rachel melt into the bench she's sat on.

When Quinn pulls back, she's panting, "Pretty good, huh?" But Rachel's still feeling the after effects and all she can say, which Quinn isn't sure is a real word is;

"Guh..."

She laughs and kisses her girlfriend's jaw, "Sorry, I just had to."

"Had to work me up in the middle of a cafeteria filled with students?" She pulls back and shakes her head in mock annoyance, "You're not very nice."

"Oh I'm not...?"

"No..." She looks down to her lunch and starts to dig in once more, "You're not nice at all."

"And why is that...?"

"Because I said so."

"You didn't say that yesterday when I was sucking on your-,"

"Quinn Fabray!" She screeches, and the two tables full of students in front of them all turn around to stare.

Only when they turn around, the guys with smirks because Quinn Fabray being a lesbian is totally a wet dream, and others with pure confusion in their eyes because Quinn just looks cocky and Rachel looks like she wants to melt into the floor and disappear forever.

"Neck. I was going to say your neck."

The singer's head snaps to Quinn, "I thought you meant-,"

"Hm-hm..." Quinn leans forward again, brushing her nose against Rachel's jaw, "But I totally did enjoy sucking on your-,"

"Don't you dare say it." Rachel mumbles, cheeks still flush with embarrassment, "Not here."

Quinn finally relents, mercifully and takes the cookies that Rachel baked her only the night before. It's become a ritual for Quinn; since first eating her girlfriend's cookies, she all but demands to have them made all the time and Rachel is only happy to oblige. So as she opens the paper bag holding those beloved cookies, she can't help but beam like a little school girl.

"How's your training going...?" Rachel asks after swallowing her mouthful of lasagna, "You were suppose to call me last night but you never did." She doesn't want to sound annoyed, but with the way Quinn sighs, it just proves that she didn't pull it off very well.

"I really am sorry. Alfred has been completely kicking me up the ass and I'm just exhausted by the time I get home." Rachel just prods at her food with her fork, "Baby...it's all a good cause. Eventually I won't need to train anymore."

"Yeah, but when will that be...?" Rachel asks, glancing at the blonde beside her, "How long will it be until you can control your urges around me?"

"I don't know, Rach."

It's seems like it's the only thing Quinn ever says these days, "I don't know" or "I have no idea."

So she asks the question that's been wriggling away at her since they first started dating, and she asks it so bluntly that Quinn almost chokes on her mouthful of sugar cookie, "Why do you even need to control your urges?"

"Excuse me?" Quinn asks, eyes watering as she tries to regain her breath.

"We're dating now, Quinn. We're together."

Quinn swallows and turns on the bench, straddling it to face her girlfriend, "Let me ask you a question. I want you to answer truthfully, okay?"

"The fact that you think I wouldn't answer truthfully is absurd, but go on."

"Do you want to have sex with me tonight...?"

Rachel splutters, because honestly, she wasn't really expecting to be propositioned for sex so early on in the relationship. Of course, they'd experimented, what couple didn't? They had well rounded second base; they'd seen each other topless and Quinn's mouth had become well acquainted with her chest, but that was all.

"I...why would you...I really..."

Quinn smiles, "Exactly," And she leans back to grab another cookie from the bag, "That's why I need to control my urges around you. If you're not ready, I won't force myself on you."

But maybe that's what Rachel wants? Maybe she wants Quinn to lose herself completely and have her way with her. Ever since they started dating, and started making out, it was becoming a lot more harder to control her own urges. She isn't a werewolf, far from it, but she is a girl, and she has little things called hormones that tend to explode in a big way when mixed with Quinn's aphrodisiac.

But she respects Quinn enough to know that she wouldn't feel comfortable, so she just takes it at face value, leans forward and dots a kiss to Quinn's nose. Her face immediately scrunches up, and she can't help but giggle. Her wolf did the exact same thing. Her wolf.

"So, dinner with my dad?" Rachel asks, calmly, almost innocently so she doesn't scare Quinn away.

Quinn gawks, then grabs another cookie and takes a small bite of it. Rachel waits, patiently, as Quinn continues to chew on the small mouth full of cookie. It's almost agonizing, and all she wants to do is grab Quinn's luscious blonde hair and make her nod her head in agreement.

"Well...I don't know." And there it is again. "I'm still training with Alfred, and I might not get back until late."

"We'll push back dinner then."

"I'll...need to go home and shower, and change, and won't he ask questions if I'm bruised?"

"The power of makeup. And like I said previously, Quinn, we'll push back dinner."

"...I only eat before seven pm."

"Oh for goodness sake!" Rachel rips up from the bench and all but stuffs her things back into her bag. Quinn just watches her, mouth and eyes wide, "It's just a dinner, Quinn, it's not like I'm asking you to propose. My God!"

And she storms out.

No matter how hard she tries, she can't find Rachel. She searches everywhere the singer goes whenever she's upset, or needs to think, or generally wants to pout by herself. But she's not in the Choir Room, or the Auditorium, or in any of the toilets situated around school.

It's a pain in the ass too, because she's surrounded by so many students, who mostly smell like sweat or burgers, so she can't pinpoint Rachel's smell directly. But by the time the bell goes for her next class, she gives up the search in hope that technology will help.

She's in Chemistry, and she's suppose to be doing some sort of experiment with a Bunsen burner that looks way too unstable for her liking. Brittany, her lab partner (Lord have mercy) is playing a game with herself, trying to see how close she can get her hair to the flame without it burning. It's almost cringe worthy to watch, and the amount of times she's had to pull her friend back from getting herself burnt, it's just beginning to get on her nerves.

When Brittany is sufficiently calmed down, or bored of her game, Quinn whips out her phone and taps out a quick message, looking up from time to time when her teacher begins to do a circuit around the room.

I'm sorry about earlier.

She leaves it at that, because she knows Rachel is still going to be amazingly pissed, and Rachel when she's pissed? Is pretty fucking scary, even for an Alpha. She knows she should just bite the bullet and go to dinner with Rachel and Hiram, but she can't, no matter how hard she tries.

Hiram is her father, and with the way things work in her community, the werewolf community, she'd have to lay down the law to Rachel's father. It's a brutal thing to do, and when Russell had told her that he had done the exact same thing to Judy's father, and got himself punched twice in the nose for it, she just put her foot down and refused to go to dinner.

She'd been giving excuses since they started dating, and she knew that Rachel was getting tired, and that they were only excuses. But the thought of looking Hiram Berry dead in the eye and saying, "She's mine now, you have no say in what she does. I protect her, you let me do the work from now on." Just makes her want to die where she's sat because even though Hiram Berry, from Rachel's description, is a small almost frail Jewish man, she's pretty sure he wouldn't mind ripping Quinn's pride down a peg or two.

And even though her human side would accept it, her Alpha wolf side, would definitely, most definitely, not.

She keeps glancing impatiently down at her phone, the nail of her index finger tapping the touch screen almost incessantly. Rachel, even in class, never takes this long to text back. Either she's ignoring her or...something happened to her. She feels her inner wolf growl, and she only just stops it from erupting from her own throat. No. Nothing is wrong. Rachel is in class, she's just being a diva and not texting back. That. Is. All.

But her wolf isn't so sure, so she looks back down again when her teacher turns his back and types out another message.

Just text me so I know you're okay.

Rachel always abides to that; she knows how riled Quinn's wolf gets when it's worried about her. It won't settle down until she either smells her girlfriend's scent, or sees her, or just hears from her. She just needs clarification; she needs to know that Rachel isn't lying in a ditch somewhere...

Okay, really over-active imagination. Quinn props her chin up on the palm of her hand when her teacher glances at her. He narrows his eyes, almost as if he knows something is going on when her other hand is in her lap, but she just acts like she's interested in what he's written on the board, and he's fine.

Her hand isn't buzzing though, and it should be buzzing. She bites down on her bottom lip, because she feels as if she needs to howl, and almost by itself, her body begins to rock back and forward in her seat. It's only a small, almost unnoticeable movement, but it's there, and it's driving her mad.

The bell goes, and she packs away her things while Brittany chirps about something she did on the weekend with Santana. Quinn would be interested, because yeah, Santana and Brittany are her best friends, but why in almighty heaven isn't Rachel texting her back?!

She's a quarter of the way through her next class, Algebra, when her damn phone finally buzzes. Her teacher looks as bored as the rest of the class does, and she seems to be doodling in her notebook or something, so Quinn pulls her phone out of her jeans pocket and clicks on the message.

I still don't know why you're dating Berry.

It's from fucking Santana, and recently, after becoming Rachel's girlfriend, she's the bane of her existence. All she does is complain that she's dating the Glee Club Captain, that she's bringing her own rep down and therefore Santana and Brittany's because they hang out around her. It's all so...High School, even though she is in High School, but she just wants to scream at something because honestly, she's happy, and so is her wolf, so why the fuck does it matter?

Is it honestly any of your business if I'm dating Rachel or not? She makes me happy, S. Just like B makes you happy. Would you like it if I kept calling B a ditzy blonde all the time? If I ripped her apart and called her names every time I saw her?

It's her wolf. Okay, so it's part her as well. But Santana really needs to be told to calm the fuck down, because it's really not any of her business who she dates. Santana has her own life, Brittany has her own life, Rachel has her own life, and so does she.

Her phone buzzes, five times in quick succession, and she knows she's gotten her best friend riled up. Part of her is excited to open the texts, just to see how she's reacted, but another part of her wants to lock the phone away in a safe and dump it in the ocean.

Okay. Let's get one thing straight here. You call Britt anything else that I'm not happy with, I'll make sure I take you all the way to Lima Heights Adjacent and deal with you there.

Secondly. Have you actually seen Berry? She dresses like a fucking toddler, and if I remember correctly, Q, you told her the exact same thing only months ago. Get the fuck off your high horse.

Thirdly. Oh yes, I'm still going. I can call Berry the whatever the hell I want. She's bringing down mine and B's rep while we hang out with you. Why do you think we don't sit at lunch with you anymore?

Fourthly. Yes. Still going. Get a fucking life.

And fifth. Screw you.

Her arms are shaking. They're fucking shaking as her eyes just read an re-read those five texts from Santana, and each time she does, she feels as if she wants to lunge over her desk, turn into her werewolf, find Santana, and cut the bitch.

It's driving her crazy, that Santana is so obsessed with being popular that she's willing to turn her back on her best friend. Actually, it doesn't drive her crazy, it makes her sick, because a girl she's known since the beginning of High School, who had her back wherever she went, all of a sudden wants nothing to do with her because she has Rachel Berry as her girlfriend.

Well. She doesn't need Santana. And it looks like Santana doesn't need her.

She punches her thumbs down hard on the touch screen of her phone, not even caring if she breaks the fucking thing, as she types out the last message.

Fine. Don't expect us to be friends then, because I'm not going to turn my back on my girlfriend simply because you don't like the fact that her rep isn't up there along with yours. It looks like you need to get a life, S. Not me.

Suffice to say, Santana doesn't text back.

She isn't there when she makes it to Glee Club. And neither is Brittany, which was bound to happen. Santana's pissed, so she needs sex to calm herself down. She didn't really expect her ex best friend to be at Glee, but the fact that she isn't, does make her smile a little as she walks into the choir room.

Rachel isn't there though. And that smile is gone. Finn looks a little lost, although he's talking to Puck, and his eyes keep slyly glancing at the seat Rachel usually sits at. It still irks her to no end, that Finn hasn't got the fucking message that Rachel is taken, so she just stamps up the risers and sits down beside Mike.

"Wow, you look pissed." He comments, his head snapping toward her when her ass impacts the seat. Tina looks toward her too, and she looks mildly interested at why she's pissed.

Quinn likes both Mike and Tina, they're pretty cool, especially Mike, because he likes all the things she likes. Comic books, Pokémon, video games. When she'd first told Rachel about her love for everything 'dorky' Rachel had just burst into laughter, almost cried, and couldn't breathe for around five minutes.

"Who would have though Quinn Fabray was a dork!"

It should have pissed her off, but with the warm look in Rachel's eyes, she only found herself to melt even more.

But now Rachel wasn't talking to her, Santana, and by default, Brittany, weren't talking to her anymore. How could one thing just spiral out of control? She should have just said yes to Rachel, then she could have at least had control over at least one thing.

"Just girl troubles..." Mike cringes, "Friend troubles."

"Ahhh and that's why Santana and Brittany aren't here?"

"You got it, Chang." She slumps back in her seat and watches with bored eyes as Mr. Schue walks in, pulling the bag off his shoulder and dumping it on top of Brad's piano. The piano player looks pissed, and she can't help but chuckle when he grabs Mr. Schue's bag and tips over the opposite side of his instrument.

"What have they done now?"

"Santana's just being a royal bitch about Rachel."

"Is that why Rachel isn't here? She heard you two argue?"

"Nah. Me and Santana were just texting in class, but Rachel and I fell out at lunch."

"What happened?" Tina asks, bracing her elbows on her knees. Mike leans back and allows his girlfriend to talk to his friend, wrapping an arm around the both of them for comfort. Both she and Tina smile.

"She wants to meet her dad."

"Ah, the parentage problems." Mike shudders, "I remember when I met Tina's parents. I threw up on the dinner table."

"Ouch..."

"My parent's family air loom that had been handed down from generation to generation."

"Double ouch."

"Trust me, Quinn. If I can make an ass out of myself and throw up on a priceless air loom, and still have them liking me, you'll get along with Rachel's dads just fine."

"Dad's..." Quinn whispers, "Oh fuck, I forget Leroy."

"Does Rachel want you to meet him?" Tina asks, kissing Mike's still blushing cheek.

"I...don't know, I never really asked."

"Don't you think you should?"

And now she feels like the worst girlfriend ever.

If you won't talk to me, at least see me. I'm going to be at the park at midnight.

"Pay attention." Quinn's head snaps up and she drops her phone back on top of her hoodie that lays in the dirt. "I know you have issues with your girlfriend, but you can't allow it to impact on your training. Do you understand?"

Quinn nods strongly, "I understand."

"Excellent. Now the key to control your Alpha is simply to allow it to think for itself. If you reign it in too much, it'll become enraged, it'll fight you more, it'll want to break free. You need to learn the line between suffocation and freedom."

Alfred Noble makes it all sound so fucking easy, and the way he just carries himself, an 80 year old octogenarian, makes her infuriated with herself. She's young, she should be able to catch onto all of this.

"But how do I know the line?" She shrugs her shoulders, "I either reign it in too much, or I just let it go. I don't know how to get it down perfectly."

Alfred just smiles, "That is what training is for." He claps his hands together, "Now. You have the item of clothing...?"

The item of clothing she was told to bring was essential for today's training session. It was a t-shirt, a dark green Wicked t-shirt that Rachel had left at her house one day after they'd gone out jogging together. She jumps over to her bag, pulls out the shirt, trying to block herself from smelling too much as she hands it to her trainer.

"Are you holding back?" He asks as he unfolds it, and by doing so the smell gets twice as strong. It's there, it's pungent, and her wolf just wants to lunge at it because he's holding something that belongs to her.

"Yeah." She replies, voice rough.

And he wafts the fucking shirt in her direction, and that bastard wind carries the smell all the way to her, and my god is it glorious. It just reeks of Rachel and she feels her arms begin to tense, just like they do whenever her wolf wants to come out to play. The bone in her right forearm snaps, just like a toothpick as she continues to hold herself back from lunging.

"You hate the fact I have the shirt. You want it for yourself."

What comes out isn't a word, but more like a growl, and Alfred just nods to himself in understanding. He's scared, of course he is. He's training an Alpha, and although he's incredibly strong and agile, Quinn isn't trained; he doesn't even know what she would do if they begun fighting. He saw Russell Fabray's bruises and wounds after the fight with his daughter, and he's sure his 80 year old body wouldn't be able to handle it.

"The smell will always be there, Quinn. It's not going to go away. Rachel is yours, she's no one else's. You're her girlfriend, her wolf. It'll always be that way. No one will take that away from you." But he tightens his grip on the shirt and holds it still at his chest, almost as if he's trying to call a bull toward him.

Quinn's bone snaps back into place, and just like that, her arm is back to normal, and the urge to rip Alfred's throat out is gone. But she still wants that damn shirt, she wants it so bad.

He can hear her thoughts, so he says, calmly, confidently, "Rachel is with you, and not with anyone else. Nor does she want to be with anyone else. You are her protector; you are the one that keeps her safe." Then he pauses and waits until Quinn stands up straight against from her hunched over position, "Do you want the shirt?" He asks all of a sudden.

Her eyes snap from the shirt to him, and her wolf is howling to say yes, so she says, "Yes." Through a tired whisper.

Alfred smiles calmly, throws the shirt back into her bag, and claps her on the shoulder, "You're getting there, Quinn. You're getting there."

But she still has a long way to go.

She gets back from training a little after ten, and that only gives her enough time to eat the dinner that her mom had left her in the oven; steak, chips and mash potato, hallelujah, and shower. So by the time she's scoffed her dinner down and showered off the dirt from her training, it's already going on eleven. She has plenty of time to get to the park.

She's walking, instead of running, because when she does run she has over forty minutes to kill and snapping at small flies is beginning to get a little tiresome. She never seems to catch them, and their little microscopic faces just mock her whenever her snout snaps and misses. So she just takes a stroll, enjoying the way she has time to watch her paw prints press deep imprints into the wet soil below.

At times she can hardly believe she's a wolf. Of course, she had the gene from when she was first born, but had only really come to realize what it all meant when she was six years old, and even then, she didn't really believe her parents then they told her she could morph into a werewolf. A werewolf! Something that only belonged in storybooks, like Little Red Riding Hood, and scary movies that only her big sister was allowed to watch.

They weren't real. She couldn't really turn into one! But on the eve of her seventh birthday, she did. It hurt, like a bitch, and her mother and father had come storming into the room when they'd heard her cry out. But when they realized what was happening, all they did was step back, Russell put his arm around his wife shoulders, and they both smiled as they watched their daughter turn into a wolf for the first time. She was a late transformer; her father had first gone into werewolf form at only the age of three, her mother was one, and her sister four.

It honestly varied from person to person, but she just blames it on the fact that she's an Alpha now. Her wolf needed more time to mature before it made itself seen.

But it still makes her smile when she sees her golden paws imprint the soil like they were meant to be there, and half the time, she wishes she could stay as a wolf and just live in the wilderness with her pack. It's freeing, and rejuvenating, and fuck it's everything she's ever dreamed of. But she's a human at the end of the day; and her human needs come first.

She's only minutes away from the park when her ears prick up. She can hear something, it's close, but not so close that she has to be worried. It's around half a mile away, to her right, in the trees. She's half tempted to go search, it could be a deer or something, and that steak, no matter how big, didn't really fill her up that much.

But she stops herself, and continues on, because if Rachel is at the park waiting for her, she knows she won't stick around long if she isn't there. She's already in the dog house, well...wolf house, but whatever, and she doesn't want to make it anymore worse then it already is.

The dash across the road is imminent, and she can see the wire fencing of the park right in front of her. Her right paw moves forward in preparation for a mad dash, but before she can move, she hears a click behind her.

Rachel decides that even though she's being a bitch after reading all of Quinn's texts and allowing them to go unanswered, she's not going to go to the park. The fact that Quinn thinks she can deal with everything if she's in wolf form, and she usually can, because Rachel just tends to melt whenever she sees those golden hazel eyes, and that cute little snout, and those twitchy ears that just begged to be scratched, this time it can't be sorted.

So she sits in her room, staring at the clock on her bedside table, just watching it click from 11:59 to 12:00 in the blink of an eye. She should be at the park now, but she can't, and she won't. She's going to stand strong, because she knows that Quinn is well in the wrong here.

She's going to stand her ground.

She drifts off sometime around quarter past twelve, only because the day has just been emotionally exhausting for her, and it feels as if she's only been asleep a few minutes when she hears a commotion outside. She puts it down to drunks coming home from a night out or something, and settles back down in her pillows, cradling herself against the pillow that Quinn tends to use whenever she takes a nap.

Less than a minute later, she hears her dad, walking down the hallway. Weird, to say he has work in less than six hours. So she gets up, gets herself up out of her warm cocoon and opens her bedroom door. Hiram is halfway down the stairs at the end of the hall, and he seems to be in a rush, so she follows him.

He's outside the front door, barely, just leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

"Are you okay, dad?" She asks from the top of the stairs. He jumps slightly, but turns to regard his daughter, "Why are you up?"

"It's nothing honey, go back to bed, okay? You have school in the morning."

She would usually keep asking, but the look in his eyes just makes her back up and return to her room.

She's in her first lesson of the day when she hears, "Did you hear?" Puck asks Finn from his seat behind her, "I heard they caught that wolf that attacked that Hunter dude a few months back."

Her pen slips from her hand, eyes staring blankly at her desk, "No way! They finally did?"

"Yeah, one of those hunting groups shot it or something."

She feels sick.

"Finally. Kurt was beginning to get on my nerves, thinking that a giant wolf was gonna come jumping through his window and eat him or something."

She needs to be sick.

"Or eat his moisturizing shit."

And they're fucking laughing. She needs to get out.

"Rach, you okay?" She hears Finn ask, but she's already packed up her things and halfway out the door.

Quinn, text me back. Please.

Answer your phone, Quinn.

ANSWER YOUR PHONE!

But there's nothing, and she's just sitting alone in her car, tapping the bottom of her bedazzled phone on her steering wheel. She keeps texting, keeps ringing, keeps leaving messages, but there's nothing just white noise.

By the time she finally gets a call, she's sobbing and she's already picked all of the bedazzled jewels off of her phone with a shaky hand.

Rachel, honey. I'm at the Fabray house.

Her dad.

She's over there in less than ten minutes, and she swears she's gone through three red lights just to cut time. She expects to receive some sort of fine, but she could hardly care less, because she's slamming her fists down on the front door of the Fabray household and she only stops when Judy comes to the door.

"Oh my God..."

"Oh honey," Judy wraps her arms around Rachel as she collapses against her, and just stays there, content to hold her as the girl sobs, "She's okay...she's okay..."

And she just cries more, because she knows she was that close to losing the one good thing in her life.

Hiram Berry walks out of Quinn Fabray's room and clasps Russell's hand in his, "She'll be fine. The bullet went clear through her leg, so the wound is clear. I've stitched her the best I could possibly do with what I had and it's bandaged tight. I'll change it when I come back in a few days."

"Thank you." The older Fabray sighs, "Thank you so much, Hiram."

"Don't mention it." He takes his hand back and shakes his head, "I just don't understand why you wouldn't take her to the hospital. She lost a lot of blood, Russ."

"We don't like hospitals, Quinn especially. She never has, not after watching her grandmother die."

"Russ..."

"Just leave it at that, Hiram. Please."

Hiram looks far from happy with the answer his lifelong friend has given, but he just nods half-heartedly and looks down the hall toward Judy and his daughter. Rachel is shaken, visibly, and she looks like she's been crying.

"Baby, are you okay?" He wraps his arm around her, and quietly thanks Judy as she walks around them both to talk to her husband, "Quinn is going to be okay."

But Rachel, without thinking, just says, "The hunting party."

Russell and Judy's head snap up from their whispered conversation, and Rachel can barely see them shake their heads at her, "Hunting party? Baby...? Quinn was shot after someone tired to steal her purse."

"I..." She clears her throat and swallows heavily, her throat bobbing gently, "Oh. But...she's going to be okay?"

Hiram raises an eyebrow and regards his daughter silently, before eventually saying, "Yes. She'll be fine. She needs a lot of bed rest, but she'll be fine."

He holds her as she slowly begins to calm down, just running smooth patterns up and down her back with the palms of his hands. She always enjoyed it as a baby, especially when she wouldn't sleep at night; he'd just do the same pattern over and over again, only using the palms of his hands, and eventually, no matter how distressed she was, she would go out like a light no problem.

She calms and pulls back, wiping the tears from her eyes with the arm of her sweater, "Can I see her...?"

"She's sleeping right now. How about you come back tomorrow after school and see her then, okay?"

"But..."

"Rachel, honey. It's for the best." Judy butts in gently, "Quinn needs to rest. I'll call you if she wakes up, okay?"

She knows she's outnumbered, so she just nods and allows her father to walk her out. He goes to work, and she goes home at her father's request, because after everything, she can't go back to school with her emotions going haywire.

As she pulls into the driveway of her house, she pulls out her newly non-bedazzled phone and calls a familiar number.

"Why was she shot?"

"The hunting party."

It's all she needs to know.

She manages to go to school the next day, only after he dad orders her to go; that moping around the house will do nothing for her mood. She needs to go to school, see her friends, sing in Glee Club. But she feels if she opens her mouth to sing she'd just burst out crying.

Finn is by her side, for some stupid reason as soon as she gets to her locker. She says hello, because she's nice, and he's a good friend, but he's pulling something out his letterman jacket pocket and handing it to her, "I bought you something."

She looks at it. Literally, she just stares at the long package, and she knows what it is, because it's all Finn gives as a present when he can't think of anything else. First it was the necklace with his name on, then it was the one with the star on...which one would it be now?

"Open it." He smiles bashfully, pushing it further toward her. She wants to clonk him over the head with it, but she just tears open the packaging half-heartedly, opens the box and drops uninterested eyes to look inside.

But then there's tears in her eyes as she regards the jewelry.

"I know I've been a bit of a jerk with you and Quinn getting together, because y'know, I still love you and all. But she makes you happy and...well, this is kind of a gift for the two of you. To say I'm happy for you and that I'm gonna back off."

It's two different necklaces, both silver, one with R engraved, and the other Q. It's oddly symbolic, and as she shuts the box again, she looks up and envelops Finn in a tight hug. He has to bend down to hug her, but he just smiles and pats her gently on the back. "Just be happy, okay? She makes you a lot happier then I ever could."

And she does.

She feels Santana glaring at her from across the choir room, and usually, she doesn't let it bother her. But her defenses are down, she doesn't have Quinn or her wolf here to protect her, so she just slides down in her seat, almost like she's trying to disappear. She feels so small, so insignificant, and the glare from both Santana and Brittany (Because whatever Santana does, she mimics) just makes her feel like a pile of shit.

When Glee is over, she half expects Santana to storm out, closely followed by a pinky linked Brittany. Brittany does leave, but Santana doesn't. And as the rest of the club files out the room, Santana stands by the piano, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"You've fucked my friendship with Q up."

"Excuse me?" She asks, because she honestly has no idea what the hell she's talking about. "I don't believe I know what you're talking about, Santana."

"Oh cut the crap. Thanks to you and Quinn going all hero on your ass she tossed me out like nothing. I've known her longer than you, Berry, and I believe friends come before girlfriend's...right?"

"If that's what you like to think. But I still don't know what you're talking about Santana, I haven't spoken to Quinn in almost two days."

"Oh...so she throws me out on my ass and then falls out with you? Hysterical. I should mark it on my fuckin' calendar. I'll tell you now Berry," She's so menacingly close, finger to her chest, almost nose to nose, "Just because you're Quinn Fabray's girlfriend doesn't mean you're more popular or that people are going to flock to you because they want to be your friend. You're still that insignificant twerp that sings Broadway tunes and dresses like you're in kindergarten. That'll never change."

She has no fucking idea where it comes from, but before she can stop it, she spits out, "But I have Quinn. And you don't. Where's your popularity now, Santana?"

She expects a punch, or some form of slap, but instead Santana's leaning back, eyes narrowed dangerously, "She's not here right now, is she?" She gestures around the room, almost mockingly, "Where's your little hero now, Berry?"

Lying in a bed, leg bandaged, half asleep on pain medication.

Tears prick her eyes, and Santana sees it as a win, "Don't cross paths with me Berry, or I'll make you regret it."

She doesn't want to go into the room, although she knows she has to. She's already put it off by drinking a glass of water downstairs and talking to Russell and Judy about the attack. Apparently a member of the hunting party had caught sight of Quinn as they passed through the woods. They'd only managed to see part of her body through the trees, and had to shoot at an awkward angle, hence the shot only to her back leg. She had managed to run away and get back home before collapsing in the hallway outside the living room. Russell, luckily enough, had been up and tended to his daughter.

"My dad woke up in the middle of the night, he was just staring out into the street."

Judy sighs distastefully, "Apparently the hunting group that shot Quinn decided to parade around the streets with their victory." She snarls, "It's disgusting."

With a heavy breath, just to calm down the heavy thumping of her heart, she twists the doorknob and pushes ever so gently against the wood to gain her entry. She can't look at the bed, not until the door is closed and she can cry without some comfort of knowing the Fabray's downstairs might not hear her.

So when that door closes, and she turns and catches sight of her girlfriend, pale, tucked up to the chest with her blankets, hair fanned out against the pillow. She just sobs. She could have died. She could have died that night and she would have never have even known. If she had spoken to Quinn, if she had just answered those texts instead of being so damn stubborn Quinn would be awake, smiling, laughing, kissing her and telling her not to be silly.

But she's just laying there, chest falling and rising in a slow succession. She's sleeping so peacefully. With nimble fingers, Rachel picks up part of the blanket and looks at the bandage on Quinn's right leg. It's wrapped tightly, so tightly, and she sees where the bullet went in and out, because the usually stark white bandage is soiled with dried blood.

She drops to her knees and collapses against the bed, sobbing against Quinn's neck, and quietly pleading into those ears that are usually so keen, "Please wake up. Just let me know you're okay."

But her plea goes unheard.

Russell Fabray watches the sleeping figure slumped across the bed from his daughter's doorway. Rachel is sleeping, but her cheeks are stained with dried tears, eyes puffy and swollen, hands clutching so tightly to the blanket that surrounds Quinn's chest.

With a sigh, he leans down toward Rachel, brushes the hair away from her face and whispers, "Rachel. Wake up." Slowly, she does, eyes bleary as the open, and they shoot from wall to wall slowly as she tries to remember where she is. "That's it. Come on, we'll go get you something to eat."

"I'm...not really hungry." She lies, but Russell just picks her up, wrapping her arm around his strong neck, "Russell..."

"You're eating or you're going home. Pick your choice."

Obviously, she chooses to eat.

Judy took the privilege to buy in some Vegan ingredients, because somehow, she knows that Rachel will be around for a while. So Rachel only has to wait minutes until a warm dish is being pulled from oven, and a portion of mushroom risotto is being piled onto her plate. She accepts it warmly, and after taking the first bite, and Judy's questioning look, the way she scoffs the rest down, answers Judy's question of: Is it nice?

"She's turning into our daughter," Russell quips as he watches her eat, and she soon slows down, because she knows what Quinn looks like when she eats, and it so isn't pretty. "How are you feeling now?"

"Better," She mumbles after swallowing a mouthful of mouth watering risotto, honestly, it seems to melt in her mouth. Judy should be a damn chef, "When will Quinn wake up?"

"Her body is still healing," Judy replies, pouring more onto her plate from the oven dish in her hand, "Werewolves tend to sleep off their injuries. She should wake up in a day or two."

"Speaking of which, I should really tell Hiram not to come around. If he sees her healed leg after three days, he'll know something is wrong." Russell butts in, scratching his chin, which is scratchy and unshaven.

"I'll tell him you got a stay at home nurse to stay with her or something. He'll believe that, right?"

"With how protective Russell is of his daughters?" Judy asks, "Yes."

Russell and Rachel smile.

An old man is in Quinn's room the next day when she arrives after school. It wasn't hard, today, because Santana seemed to be keeping away and Finn was just being a nice friend to her all day, and didn't overstep any boundaries. Although he did ask where Quinn was. To which she just said she was ill and was just staying at home until it passed. He seemed happy enough with that.

But this guy just looks at her when she walks in, takes one almighty sniff and says, "You're Rachel."

That's...just terrifying.

"Yes." She doesn't shut the door this time, because she isn't even sure if he's meant to be in here. She's half tempted to shout for Judy, because Russell is at work, but he seems friendly enough.

"I'm Alfred Noble." He extends his hand, which she takes, because she knows who he is now. "I'm the one training her."

"Oh." She doesn't really have anything else to say, because after all, she doesn't really want to know what they're doing with all the bruises Quinn comes home with afterwards.

"She's a strong girl, Rachel. She'll be up and about in no time. I've already checked her leg, and it's already healed."

"It's only been a few days."

And he winks so playfully, "That's an Alpha wolf for you." She's charmed by him, and he makes her more comfortable when she glances down to Quinn, who looks a lot more better than she did the day before. The color is back in her cheeks, and altogether, seems a lot more comfortable.

"So she should wake up soon?"

He nods happily, "I'll bet my last dollar its within the hour." He pats her gently on the shoulder as he leaves, "You make her happy. She tries so much to tame her wolf for you."

"I know," Is all Rachel can whisper in return as she watches the rise and fall of her girlfriend's chest.

It's been an hour, and she hasn't woken up. She doesn't have time to worry though, by her bedside, because her phone is ringing. With a grunt, she leans over to her bag and pulls it out before bringing it to her ear.

"Yes?"

"Rachel?"

Leroy.

"Yes?"

"Hi. I was...just wondering if you were doing okay. You haven't been around for the past couple of days, I was starting to get worried."

She just bites down on her bottom lip and shuts her eyes, "I've been busy."

"Okay. How's school?"

"It's fine."

"Great."

She opens her eyes and looks down to her lap, and she can hear the hesitation in his voice, but she doesn't let it last, "Was that all?"

"You don't call me daddy anymore." He whispers at the same time, but she hears it, and she taps her finger on the base of her phone, gently, slowly.

She can't lie to him, although all he's ever done for the past few months is lie to her, so she just sighs and says, defeated, "I don't really think you deserve the title."

"Oh..." His voice is so weak, and somewhere inside her, something breaks, "Well...I'll uhm...leave you to it then."

"Yeah."

"I love you, Rach..."

"I know. Bye." She flips the phone shut and just sighs.

"That was painful," It's groggy, and her head snaps up almost immediately, looking at her with warm hazel eyes, is Quinn, awake, well, half asleep, but she's awake, "You okay?"

Rachel scoffs, "You're asking me if I'm okay?" She sits up on her knees and leans over Quinn, effectively barring her against the pillows, "You were shot, Quinn Fabray! Don't you understand?"

"I understand. And I'm fine."

"You..." Rachel slumps back again, "It was my fault."

Quinn frowns, "Why do you say that?" She tries to roll over onto her side, but even though the wound in her leg is healed, it still aches like a fucking bitch, so she just stays still, and tries to shuffle ever so slightly closer toward her dejected girlfriend.

"If I had answered your texts, you wouldn't have needed to go to the park that night. Everything would have been fine."

"But you didn't," Rachel looks up slowly, "But it's in the past, and I'm still here, alive and kicking. Well, not kicking yet, but I will be soon enough." Quinn adds a cocky smirk, and Rachel chuckles ever so slightly. "So. Are you okay?"

"Except for thinking I almost got you killed, oh I'm fine."

Quinn rolls her eyes, "I meant Leroy."

"Oh." But she stays silent, because she thinks if she talks about it, she'll just burst out sobbing. And she's sick and tired of crying all the time, it's all she's done since Leroy cheated, and she just wants it to stop, at least for a little while.

But Quinn's patting the side of the bed that's unoccupied, and Rachel doesn't hesitate to get up and stumble to the other side of the bed. "I won't hurt your leg if I get on, will I?"

Quinn chuckles, "You're not mounting a horse, Rachel."

But she gets on the bed like she's mounting a horse anyway, and Quinn just laughs until Rachel is snuggled tightly at her side, arm resting over her abdomen. "Feel better?" She asks, kissing the top of the brunette's head softly.

"Kinda."

"Wanna talk about it...?"

"The hunting party?"

Quinn rolls her eyes, yet again, "No. Your father."

"Talk about the hunting party first...then I'll talk about him."

"Rach..."

"I just want to know what happened. It'll...ease my mind a little."

Quinn pulls back as best she can, and tilts Rachel's face up with a finger under her chin, "Why do you say that?"

"I was the last to know, and I'm your girlfriend Quinn, I just...I at least want to know what happened, how you felt, it'll make me feel a little less inadequate."

"Rachel..."

"Please?" And she asks with a kiss to Quinn's soft lips.

"Baby, I haven't brushed my teeth in like...I don't know how many days."

"I don't care," Rachel mumbles back, just content to feel Quinn's lips and tongue against hers again. They kiss slowly, almost as if they're trying to re-memorize each other's mouths once again. They take their time, and not a single flick of a tongue is rushed. The way Quinn's hands fist the back of her blouse just makes her melt further into the girl beneath her, and she finally knows that Quinn is really okay. "Tell me..." She finally mumbles, pulling back.

The aphrodisiac is there, and Quinn is panting softly, but it's not as pent up, it's sedate, and it's almost like she's coming home to something.

"I was about to run across the road to the park," Rachel settles herself back down against Quinn's side, and squeezes the blonde's ribs gently to let her know when she's settled, "I thought I heard something a little earlier on, but I just put it down to a deer or something. But I literally had one paw on the road, and I heard this mute click. Like the sound of a gun being cocked, and then I just felt it. I didn't see it, but I felt it in my back leg. I knew I'd been shot, but I didn't stay around to see what happened because I heard some...guy shout from in the trees 'I shot the fucker'."

"So you ran...?" Rachel whispers against Quinn's neck, placing soft chaste kisses to the skin, just to soothe and not to tease.

"I had to, or I would have been..." The kisses to her neck stop, "You know." The kisses continue and she melts back into the touch, "I was struggling by the time I got onto my street, but I managed to get through the door and transform back into my human self before I collapsed on the floor. I...don't remember much then, just my dad saying some stuff really."

"My dad bandaged your leg for you."

"I'll have to thank him for that."

She feels Rachel smile against her neck, and she knows it's coming, "Thank him at dinner when you're feeling better then."

But she knows what avoiding things can do to a person, or to a wolf, so she just smiles, presses a kiss to the top of Rachel's head and mumbles, "Sure."

They talk for hours, because they feel as if they haven't seen each other in years. It's satisfying to watch Rachel laugh once more when she tickles her, or the way she chastises her with a soft 'Quinn Fabray!' when she nibbles on her neck.

Both Judy and Russell had come up hours before with dinner that they both demolished. Well, Quinn demolished both hers and Rachel's, so either way, both plates were empty and almost licked clean by the time they were done with. Both the Fabray's seemed happy with Quinn's progress, and told Rachel she cold sleep over if she promised to let their daughter rest and made sure Rachel herself, got to school.

They steadfastly agreed. But they hadn't slept, and just toyed with their intertwined fingers, kissing softly and making sure their bodies were as close as possible.

"Your wolf isn't jumping for me."

"My wolf's ego is battered. It'll take a few hours for it to want you in that primal way again."

Rachel softly giggles and presses a kiss to Quinn's nose, once again enjoying the way that her face scrunches up, "Good thing I leave in a few hours for school, then."

Quinn sighs, "Yeah. I guess so."

"I'll be back straight after." Rachel promises, and Quinn honestly believes her, because she knows Rachel won't abandon her. But then the mood is shifting, and Quinn smells it on Rachel, "What happened with Santana?"

"Huh?" Ah, fuck. "She just riled me up that's all."

"Riled you up, or your wolf up?"

"Both."

"Ah." Rachel shifts closer, if it's even possible, and she lowers her voice, "What happened?"

Quinn's eyes shoot from the dark brown of Rachel's eyes, they seem to glow in the early light of sunrise, and it shows the true beauty of her girlfriend. She looks so pure, almost angelic, and it honestly takes her breath away.

"She just...She thinks that my being with you, brings down her rep. She didn't say it, but she insinuated that I needed to choose between you and her."

Rachel's face is poker, and Quinn thinks she's said something wrong, but then she's smiling, so softly and kissing Quinn for all she's worth. She's on her back before she knows it, and Rachel is carefully, gingerly straddling her hips as to not knock her leg. "You chose me," She whispers against soft lips.

And Quinn just smiles and says, "I'll always choose you." Before kissing her girlfriend in the haze of a beautiful morning sunrise.