Chapter Six - It's Too Late to Apologize
"Get out of my house, Quinn!" Rachel yelled angrily. Quinn's eyes widened.
"No! What the fuck are you planning? I knew there was a reason you could see us! You were planning this all along, weren't you?" Quinn roared.
Rachel glared at her and opened her mouth to respond before she was interrupted by Santana.
"What is all this stuff? What are you—are you insane? You're recording a video?!" Santana yelled.
Rachel was furious. "Get out! Both of you! I don't want anything else to do with either of you! This is my life and I can end it how I see fit! Get out!"
"Make us!" Santana retorted petulantly. Rachel glared daggers into her.
"Actually Rachel, its my job to end your life—not yours! And I wont do it!" Quinn growled.
Rachel's face contorted in confusion. "What? What are you talking about? Ghosts don't kill people. Poltergeists may have the power to haunt but—"
"We're not ghosts!" Santana yelled, waving her hands dramatically.
Rachel glowered. "I don't care what you are. I don't care! I want you to leave! You don't get to lecture me about my life when people like you cause me to live in misery everyday! I don't want it anymore!"
Quinn and Santana froze. "Rachel, we—"
"No!" Rachel bellowed. "You lied to me! You lied by omission when you neglected to mention at any point in me telling you about my pathetic life that you were bullies! You were bullies!" Rachel sobbed. "You were just as bad as the people who torture me now in your own lives. How can I trust you?! Why did you lie to me! Why does everyone hate me?!"
Quinn and Santana didn't know how to answer that question or those accusations. But Santana tried. "Rachel you don't understand what it was like for us.."
Rachel glared so hard Santana thought she'd shoot lasers. "Spare me. Who gives a fuck how hard it was for you! You're a bully! Why should I care about you?!"
Santana recoiled and the hurt reflected in her eyes. They watered.
"Rachel you can't compare us to your bullies!" Quinn yelled. "We like you now! We sat and talked with you and listened and were friendly to you! How can you be angry at us for something we did five years ago to people you've never met?"
The incredulity on Rachel's face would have been hilarious under lighter circumstances. "Do you even hear yourself? I should excuse the fact that you are bullies because you are nice to me? Tell me something, Quinn." She folded her arms across her chest. "How would I have fared if I was in your class? Would I have been targeted with slushies from you? How about set on fire? Would you have broken my nose had I scuffed your sneakers? How would I have been treated? Hm?"
Quinn's head lowered in shame briefly before the ire came back. "Fuck you, Rachel! You weren't there for any of those incidents! I never threw a slushy at anyone! Neither did Santana! The only reason we ever laughed was because we were supposed to! We were on top of the social ladder and if we wanted to stay there, we had to play the part! Oh, and that kid with the Bunson burner? Yeah, really great guy. He was intending on making me do all the work on our project. When I mentioned that to our teacher he fucking ignored me. That kid figured since I was a woman, he—a man—was automatically superior to me in science, and yet he was going to slack off. Do you know what my parents would have done had my grade suffered because of him? No! You don't! And that little bitch who's nose Santana broke was the same little shit that told my boyfriend that I was cheating on him with Tana. She fucking outed me! If my parents found out they would've killed me themselves! And she fucked up Tana's cheer shoes and she got suspended for being out of dress code until she got her new pair. So fuck you! You don't know anything!"
Santana had remained silent throughout Quinn's tirade, but her own anger was reflected in her posture.
Rachel just laughed. "That's amazing. Simply astounding how you have an excuse for every awful thing you've ever done to someone. You're a regular Saint, Quinn."
"Shut up, Berry!" Santana yelled. "Regardless of what you think we aren't going to help you kill yourself."
"I don't need your help!" Rachel screamed. "I want you to leave!"
"You seem to be misunderstanding why we are here. We are death agents, hobbit. Which means you do need our help." Santana smirked. "Why do you think you can see us? How do you think we knew what you were planning? Without us, you'll probably just trap yourself in a coma. Then what? You'll lie there until your body deteriorates from malnourishment and then when your soul finally separates, it'll be stuck wandering this fucked up world until we decide to lead you to a holding cell for judgement. Is that what you want, Rachel?"
Rachel was breathing erratically in her anger. Quinn noticed they were getting nowhere with this so she tried a different tactic. "You don't want to do this, Rachel. You've got such a bright future ahead of you. Why would you want to give that up?"
Rachel huffed and started pacing. "You don't get to lecture me, Quinn Fabray. You know what I thought? I thought you guys were like me. I thought you knew what it was like. I thought maybe for once in my life, or my death even, that I could have friends who understood me."
"We are your friends Rachel! We've been trying!" Quinn groaned.
"You're not. If you were my friends you would have been honest. Instead, you were deceitful. You even allowed me to believe you were harmless ghosts, when the whole time you had a job to do." Rachel said.
"I told you like, a million times we weren't ghosts!" Santana growled.
"That's irrelevant!" Rachel exclaimed.
"What about your Mom, Rachel? Doesn't she care? I know you said she replaced you as a daughter, but you also said she was your friend" Quinn tried.
Rachel let out a tired and exasperated sigh. She ignored the question. "What's in my file?"
Quinn's eyebrow lifted in confusion. "What?"
Rachel sluggishly walked back over to her desk where she left her wine. She grabbed the glass and sipped it again, before bringing it with her where she sat on the edge of her bed. "My file. You came in raving about some file that was so important, and you ruined my video. What's in it?"
Quinn looked at her curiously, "everything."
Rachel chuckled softly. She was feeling it. It wasn't long now. "Everything huh? Hmm. Does it tell you that you're too late?" Rachel smirked.
"What? What are you—"
Rachel raised an eyebrow and raised her glass of wine for her final sip. "You're. Too. Late." She smirked, before her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out.
Santana and Quinn stared at her in disbelief before they sprung into action. "Fuck! Fuck! Do something, Q!" Santana said frantically.
"Like what?! I've never tried to save a life before! My job is to take them, remember?" Quinn yelled.
"Trigger her gag reflex or something! Make her throw it up!"
Quinn's hand went through Rachel's throat to try and trigger her gag reflex. "I can't, her throat is still part of her body and has a life force. I cant touch it. Give me something I can stick in her mouth!"
Santana looked anxiously around the room for something they could use. They couldn't touch living things but the could manipulate objects. She spied a pink pen with a fuzzy ball topper. "Try this atrocity." Santana frowned at it.
Quinn rolled her eyes and grabbed it from her, forcing into Rachel's mouth in an attempt to tickle her throat. She randomly chuckled to Santana's horror.
"What the fuck, Q!"
"Calm down, I just realized she has no gag reflex. That would've been a useful gift." Quinn pointed out inappropriately.
"Are toy fucking kidding me Quinn!" Santana growled.
"Alright, alright! Just, gimme a second. Little Miss DramaBerry isn't in any danger. I think I can reach into her body and gather the drug substance since its technically not a part of her being. I can clean it out if I concentrate." Quinn said smugly.
Santana wanted to hit her. She could've mentioned that sooner.
She watched as Quinn's hands worked within Rachel's being, collecting the substance from her stomach, her bloodstream, and her brain. Santana watched in amazement just how good Quinn was at this. "Q, you could've been a surgeon. You're so skilled with your hands."
Quinn smirked. "My skills were already being practiced with your body."
Santana groaned. When did Quinn seriously become the perv between the two of them?
When Quinn collected all the matter, she sifted it back up through Rachel's esophagus and into the wine glass. "There. She's gonna be pissed when she wakes up."
"She's not the only one." Said a third, male voice.
Quinn and Santana turned around to see dark hair, dark wings, a gorgeous face, and abs.
"Oh, hey Mike." Santana smiled nervously.
"Its Michael." He growled lowly. "And her Holiness wishes to speak with you."
"Shit." Quinn and Santana whispered.