A/N:
- Thank you all for your lovely comments, subscriptions, favs etc. They are much appreciated and keep me motivated to write more and faster everyday. As it stands now, I have a limited time on the computer each day, and have chosen to spend the time writing the story instead of replying to you guys individually, but please know that I read everything and am beyond thankful for them.
-Since I am writing and editing live time now, I hope to get something out there once or twice a week.
-Also sorry about all the grammatical errors, typos etc… I'm afraid English is not my mother tongue and this is the best it's going to get…unless someone would like to beta this for me? Anyone?
4/?
Quinn somehow pushes, drags, carries Rachel out of the room, and onto the stage and down the stairs and up and up and up all the way to the entrance of the theater. Her legs buckle under her right as she reaches the doors. She tries for a soft landing for Rachel's sake, though she doubts she succeeds. Then again it isn't like there's anyone there to say one way or another. Rachel is out cold. And if she hasn't woken up during this bumpy ride, Quinn knows that she's not going to be waking up anytime soon.
Anyway, they need to be quiet now. Very quiet.
Quinn takes a deep breath, and another. Tries to slow down her heart beat but the images of Jacob waiting for her right on the other side of the door are so real in her mind that she barely has enough time to lean over before she's throwing up again. Just fluids this time. There isn't really anything left in her.
When she's sure that she can walk again, she pushes herself up.
There is no turning back now. She says a quick prayer and nudges the door open with her foot. When there is no immediate fire, she pokes her head out.
He isn't there.
She listens for a moment, for an indication of his location, but it's silent out. Quinn realizes that it's been silent for a while now. At least five minutes. So, either it's over or it's one of those false breaks again. She doesn't have time to wait and figure out which.
Not long after, she's out of the cover of the auditorium, with Rachel on her back. It's the most difficult piggy back ride she has ever given, because for all intents and purposes Rachel is dead weight on her back, and Quinn soon discovers that keeping a hold on someone – even someone as small as Rachel – who isn't holding on to you, and trying to run at the same time is impossible. Who is she kidding? Just walking this way is pretty damn difficult.
Just the fact that she's been able to carry Rachel as far as she has is thanks to her years of cheerleading. She is going to thank Coach Silvester if she gets out of this thing alive.
If.
There are bodies along the way, bodies, because no one is moving any more. Quinn tries not to look down, not to see anything if she can avoid it. It's a fruitless effort of course. She can't help but pick out things. Some boy's white sneakers, its soles covered in blood. An algebra book, sticking out of an abandoned backpack in the middle of the hallway. A Sponge Bob lunch box, clutched by a tiny hand.
She doesn't want to see, she doesn't want to see.
She quickens her steps even more, despite her protesting muscles. Starts singing in her head, you are my sunshine, my only sunshine. It's silly, but it's the song Lucy used to sing whenever she was upset; When she woke up from a nightmare, or when her half-full plate was taken from her, or when her mother bought her clothes that were 2 sizes too small - for motivation - their maid, Marcella, would sing it to her, and wipe the tears off her face with her wrinkly hands. Lucy would sing along, and magically feel better. You make me happy when skies are gray. She needs to feel better now.She needs to think of happy things or she's going to fall apart, and she can't afford to do that. Later. She'll fall apart, later.
She is almost there- just one more corner and she will see the glass exit doors in the end of the hall.She walks, as fast as her feet can carry her. She's going to make it, just one more corner and she'll make it. She can already see the sunshine lighting up the lockers up ahead. You'll never know dear, she's there, how much I-
It's the wheelchair, tipped to its side that stops her.
Artie is on the floor next to it, his body bent all wrong, his face sitting in a pool of his blood, his glasses, thrown off.
There is another pair of legs poking out from behind the chair. She recognizes the boots, tells herself she's wrong.
One step, two. She is right.
Mercedes is on her side. Her top has rolled up in her fall, enough so that a good portion of bare skin is showing on her stomach. Her tights cut into her waist, squeezing out a bulge of fat. She wouldn't like that to be seen, Quinn thinks. Lucy never did.
She looks up absently. The exit is right there. Maybe ten feet from where the two have fallen. They came so close, she thinks, catching sight of the police cars outside.
A policeman in swat gear motions at her from behind a car. She doesn't understand what he wants.
She tries to bend down to fix Mercedes' top, stops when she realizes that she's about to drop Rachel. -Rachel! Rachel is on her back and she needs help. Quinn has to get them out of there.
She steps over Mercedes, re-adjusts Rachel on her back and is about to take the last few steps when a weak noise makes her look to her left.
On the floor, leaning against the wall is -
"Finn?"
He looks devastated, his eyes haunted, as tears make their way down his cheeks.
"Are you hurt?" She asks, because she can't see any wounds on him. Though there is blood splatters on his face. And his pants are dark and wet along his inner thighs.
The smell lets her know that it probably isn't blood.
He doesn't say anything, just looks on ahead.
"What are you doing? Get up." She says.
He gives her a heartbreaking look and then his eyes move behind her.
She turns around, following his line of sight, and staggers back, hitting the wall.
There, hiding between the lockers is Jacob.
"Hello Quinn, nice of you to stop by."
The wall keeps her standing, supporting Rachel's weight. It's a good thing too because her knees feel like they might give out at any moment.
"Who's that?" He asks, motioning at her back, his voice full of humor. "Is that Rachel?" He pauses when he sees that it is, but only for a moment. Then he's smirking, "That's rich. You don't even like her. You spend your life making her suffer, and now what? You're carrying her outside?"
His voice rises at the end like it's the punch line of a joke and then he starts laughing, great big barks that just get bigger and bigger.
It pisses her off.
"Carrying her…outside." He's barely able to breath, he's laughing so much. "Rachel Berry on Quinn Fabray's back."
"What's so funny?" She snaps, even though she probably shouldn't. But her fear has left its place to anger. And anger, she knows. Anger, she can deal with.
His eyes widen in surprise but he just shakes his head, chuckling. "Oh, you're really something, aren't you?" He says, as he wipes the tears off his eyes. "She's dead Quinn. You are carrying a dead body. Granted, a body of a goddess but, dead is dead."
He plays with his gun, "I mean, what's the point of risking your life for that? Rachel is gone. She's in a much better place now."
She glances at Finn, who gives her the tiniest of headshakes; his eyes saying don't poke the lion.
"Oh, don't even waste your time with him." Jacob says, noticing. "Mr. Scaredypants over there will just sit there, pissing himself, as I drop his friends one by one. That's what he does best. Isn't that right Finny?"
Finn looks down dejectedly.
"Boo hoo." Jacob says, "I don't know what Rachel ever saw in you. Dumb as a door knob, with that stupid ass grin. And the courage of a lion…Look at you, you're pathetic."
He stares at Finn without saying anything, then suddenly barks "Boo!" Finn flinches in response, which makes Jacob laugh again. "Who's the big man now, bitch?"
"Big men shoot helpless boys in wheelchairs now?" She asks, because to hell with him. She's not going to go down a quivering mess.
"It's the intention that counts Quinny. Him, I sent to heaven." He says, his face suddenly serious. "You, I'll send to hell."
"Why are you doing this?"
"I think we've had enough of a chat, don't you? In fact this is probably the longest that we've ever spoken."
"You're right, just shoot me, get it over with."
His eyes narrow in suspicion. "You really do have a death wish, don't you?"
"Please, like I want to look at your face a minute longer than I have to."
"Do you see this?" He holds up the gun, incredulous. "You sure you want to talk like this to someone with a loaded gun?"
"You're going to shoot me either way."
"You bet I am." He says, annoyed now. "You deserve it. You know what my life has been like because of people like you? People like-
"You're boring me now." She pushes herself off the wall, strengthening her grip on Rachel. "Tell your sob story to someone who gives a damn."
"You can't talk to me this way! I'm in charge here!"
"Yeah, whatever." She says moving towards the door. "Since you're planning on talking me to death, I think I'll be on my way."
"Stop!" He shouts, coming after her, his gun aimed high. "You're going to listen to me!"
She keeps moving, even as her stomach turns and she tastes bile in her mouth.
"I said, STOP!" He lunges at her, grabbing her arm, forcing the gun against her temple.
She takes in a deep breath, shuts her eyes in reflex. She can't actually face this head on.
"You're going to pay-
In the next instance a shot is fired. She screams as something wet hits her on the face.
"Suspect down! Suspect down!" She hears dimly, as she registers that it's him that's shot and not her.
He has a hole on the side of his head.
It's over.
They are safe.
A whirlwind of people rush in then; The swat team, the paramedics, who knows whom else, all barking orders at each other, making it hard for her to see or hear anything.
She stands frozen in the middle of chaos, shaking like a leaf, her body refusing to still. Adrenalin, she thinks, must be the adrenalin. Someone grabs her, moves her outside. Tries to take Rachel off her back and even though her shoulder hurts like it's out of a socket, her arms refuse to release their hold.
They are safe.
"I've got her, sweetie, I've got her." The paramedic says, with a sense of care and urgency to her voice. "Let go, you can let go now."
Quinn lets go.