Disclaimer: This chapter includes violence, so this is just a heads up in case anyone wants to stop reading now. Enjoy! (I think)
A regular week in Finn Hudson's life involved, well, not a lot really. His lifestyle was over glamorised by the media, and when he wasn't working all hours at the bar, he alternated between answering questions, taking interviews, and sleeping; his social life was pretty lame. At times, he missed his Lima life when he only had to worry about which puffy vest to wear and who he was gonna kick the crap out of on COD.
However, his boring New York lifestyle was a breeze compared to the one that Rachel had brought with her like a hurricane. He suddenly found himself excited again and desperate to get time off to spend with her, and that felt nice (hell, it was fucking awesome).
The downside was, by the time a week had passed since Santana's first visit, everything was going up in flames around him. Emma Pillsbury-Schuester had called in tears, crying over a photo that incriminated her husband somehow, and when Finn asked what it had to do with him, she told him that his name and number had been scribbled onto the back of the picture. Finn apologised for her problems but he could do little else, and Rachel did her best to help relieve his guilt.
It worked, for a day at least. Early one morning, Mike Chang sent him a desperate text of distress over a photo that 'proved' Tina didn't love him, and Finn had a heated argument with the guy, which ended with Mike calling him some words that he didn't want to think about. Rachel tried again to help Finn, but as the days went on, and as he received more and more phone calls and emails from people who had had been affected by these photos, it was obvious that it was taking its toll on him.
"I've asked Sean to push back his visit because of 'staffing issues' at the bar, and even if he didn't believe me, he's agreed to come at a later date."
Rachel waited for a response, a thank you, anything, but Finn simply stared into his cereal. She hated that; his eyes were cold and bare, and as more and more time passed, her hatred for Santana only intensified. Who was she to cause such misery to others? None of them deserved it, least of all Finn, and she made a secret vow to track the girl down and stop her herself.
"Brittany and Artie should finally be here tomorrow. Honestly, it's just like her to misplace their cat's travel documents at such short notice, but at least that's something." Finn managed a nod, which Rachel took as progress. She couldn't be mad at Finn for taking it so hard since it wasn't his fault; he just needed her help, and she was going to give him it. "I thought that I could maybe get an airbed for while they're here, and we can sleep in the living room while they take your bed, if that's okay?"
"I should just give in."
"Excuse me?"
Finn looked up wearily at her, and Rachel was shocked by how exhausted he looked. "If I pay her, she'll stop."
"No." Rachel slammed her fist on the table, only wincing slightly at the force. "I don't know how many times I have to say this, but we are not giving in to her ridiculous demands. She's hurt everyone too much, and she'll have to pay for the damage she's done. Now hurry up and eat your cereal because we need to go shopping before our shifts start."
Glee!
"What time is it?"
"Go back to sleep Finn."
"Go back to what? I've been awake since we went to bed."
Rachel let out a small groan as she snuggled closer to him. She gently stroked his hair because she knew how sleepy it used to make him, once upon a time. "What are you thinking about?"
"How big of a jackass I am."
"W-what?"
"Brittany and Artie, really? They managed to make it work and stay together for all these years, and we couldn't? Because of me, because I hurt you and-"
"And I hurt you, and it's not your fault that you couldn't forgive me."
"That's a lie," he said in no more than a whisper. "I forgave you after Christmas break, but I pretended I was mad just to fuck with you."
Rachel, who was now fully awake, could feel her heart in her throat. "Don't do this Finn, don't lie-"
"I'm not lying! I'm a screw up, Rachel, I screw things up! I've always been a screw up, and it's happening all over again. People are unhappy, and I know exactly how to make things better, but I'm holding out because I'm selfish."
"Stop it!" Rachel all but screamed. Even in the dark, she could see the colour leave Finn's face. "Stop making excuses! You didn't forgive me because I hurt you too much and you wanted me to pay, which is exactly what I did to you! I kissed Noah because I wanted you to feel my pain, and because I wanted you suffer, so don't think that I don't know how it feels. As for this, this business with Santana, this is not your fault, so stop feeling sorry for yourself!"
Finn used to think angry Rachel was hot, but this kind of Rachel scared the shit out of him; she always did know how to read his mind. "Then what the hell do we do Rach, huh? What do we do?"
"We fight!" she barked, sitting up to stare at him. "We're leaders, Finn, even now, and we fight Santana for trying to hurt us again. If you want to give up and give in then fine, go ahead." She pulled herself from his bed, her body instantly shivering though she stood her ground. "Just know that I won't be there when you need to bask in your weakness." She headed towards the door, but was, thankfully, stopped by a pair of warm, strong, slightly shaking hands.
"Where do you think you're going Sergeant Berry? We have a battle to win."
Their lips met, and Finn was able to get a few hours sleep, if only knowing that Rachel would always have his back.
Glee!
"Lord Tubbington doesn't like stairs so I have to carry him wherever I go, don't I little baby?"
Finn regretted his visit offer instantly, 'cause crap, why had Brittany brought a cat? He was allergic, and he knew that it would only be a matter of time until he couldn't stay in his own apartment.
"The cat, really?" he hissed to Artie as he helped him with his chair, and the bespectacled boy gave him an apologetic grimace.
"You learn to love it I guess."
Finn wasn't entirely convinced.
"Okay, so through here is where you'll be sleeping..." said Rachel cheerfully, undeterred by the mounds of bags that hung from Brittany's shoulders. She led them into the bedroom, and with four people, a wheelchair and a cat standing side by side, it was obvious just how tiny Finn's apartment was.
"Lord Tubbington's kitty mansion is bigger than this whole floor," Brittany stated, nose scrunched.
"Good for the cat," muttered Finn under his breath, and Rachel shot him a warning glare. "So uh, can I get you guys a drink? Tea, coffee, orange-"
"Do you have any vodka and banana milkshake?" asked Brittany hopefully.
Finn blanched but shrugged all the same. "I'll see what I can do. Rach'll show you to the living room."
He made his way into the kitchen and listened briefly to the sound of Rachel giving Artie and Brittany the grand tour of his shitty little apartment. He had no clue if Rachel was going to permanently live with him (it had sort of just, you know, happened), but he did know that he needed a bigger place because he wasn't a pathetic bachelor anymore. With a groan, he opened the fridge and hung his head against the cold, worn door. Ever since the Santana mess, it felt like he'd had a constant headache that wouldn't leave him alone, and as much as he liked Artittany (Brittany's creation, not his), it wasn't like he had time to celebrate them being his guests.
"You're stressed and unhappy."
Finn hit his head on the top of the fridge (like he needed it to hurt even more) and turned to Rachel, who was looking at him in that way, like she was x-raying him without his consent. "Nah, I'm just tired."
"We can fix this."
"I know."
"I don't think you do."
Finn pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm just tired of everything in general."
"I know, but Brittany's going to tell us what happened, and it should hopefully shed some light on how we can slay the dragon."
His lips quirked up in response to that, and for a second, yeah, he really did think they could do it, so long as he had Rachel.
"She's gonna be pissed, we only have milk and wine coolers."
Glee!
"And then we had to take that kitty tuxedo back because purple isn't Tubby's colour, right baby?"
Artie nodded solemnly as Rachel and Finn both stifled a laugh, neither of them wanting to ask about the scars that resembled scratch marks on his arms.
"I'd love to own a cat, but Finn's allergic and he seems more like a dog person anyway."
He grinned at Rachel and squeezed her hand as Brittany pulled a face. "I love dogs."
"Dogs are too slobbery," the blonde moaned. Artie sipped at his milk before clearing his throat; he looked extremely uncomfortable, and Finn had the feeling that he was going to try and change the subject to Santana (just like he himself had tried at least five times in the past hour).
"So, Britt, remember why we came? Santana's been hurting people and we need to know why you stopped talking to her."
The smile on her lips and the light in her eyes disappeared instantly at Artie's question, and she clung to her cat like a life jacket (Lord Tubbington looked less than amused, and kept trying to wriggle away).
"How is she hurting people? Has she started using a gun again?"
Rachel choked on her iced tea and Finn did a double take, while Artie patted her hand. "Are you thinking of paintball, Britt?"
Brittany shook her head, looking just as confused as the rest of them. "What does paintball have to do with her killing someone?"
"Brittany!" squeaked Rachel hysterically. "Y-you can't be serious! Are you talking about a video game or something?"
"No, Santana came to me and told me that she'd killed a boy with a gun and that she was scared." She looked from Artie to Finn before shrugging and tickling her cat behind his ear while he purred loudly.
"When... when was this?" asked Artie, dumbfounded.
"Um... Just after we graduated, I don't really remember."
"She can't have been serious!" Rachel shook her head violently. "In our senior year, she told me that she had a tattoo of a-"
"Dolphin above her lady garden, and I can confirm that it's true."
Artie stared at his girlfriend, his eyes practically popping out of his head. "She told me that she had a maid who-"
"She slept with every Wednesday afternoon." Brittany kissed the top of Lord Tubbington's head. "True. I thought it was a Tuesday and I went to bring her some cookies, and the two of them were doing it on the couch."
Finn gulped loudly. "She told me she'd slept with Figgins."
Brittany scrunched up her nose and shrugged. "I'm not sure about that one, but probably true."
"Okay, we're getting off track. Brittany, what did she tell you about the boy she k-killed?" Rachel's stomach dropped at the very thought of it. She knew Santana was many things, but a murderer...?
"It was a long time ago and I don't remember much and she told me not to tell!"
Finn opened his mouth to protest until Artie stopped him. From one of their many bags he produced a brown envelope that made both Finn and Rachel wince.
"I have something to show you," Artie said quietly. He lifted the cat from her lap and removed the photo from the envelope, slowing handing it to her. "This came three days ago, but I didn't... I trust you enough to know it means nothing."
Brittany, Finn and Rachel looked down at the picture to see the blonde locking tongues with a black girl, who had her hand curled in Brittany's hair.
"Artie, where did you get this?"
"Santana sent it to him," said Finn quietly. He caught Brittany's gaze, and did his best to keep it simple since, judging by the tears welling up, the photo had upset her. "She's been sending all of my old friends pictures of different things, intending to hurt people."
Brittany said nothing, but looked back down at the photo, which didn't look very encouraging.
"I can't believe she'd do that to us," she whispered, a lone tear trickling down her cheek. "This was taken at the local theatre company."
Rachel cocked her head in contusion, and Artie quickly filled them in, explaining that she'd joined a drama group so she could improve her memory by remembering lines.
"We were working in pairs and we had to practice stage kisses, but we ran out of boys and Fearne was the only person left." Brittany looked helplessly at Artie. "It lasted five seconds and then it was someone else's turn, and she was a horrible kisser and had bad breath. I'm so sorry Artie!"
"It's okay Britt, I knew it would be innocent." He wiped away her tears, and Finn felt bile rise in his throat at the thought of all the people Santana had screwed with. "But this is why you need to tell us what happened before she really hurts someone."
Shaking, Brittany hugged herself before looking to Finn. "Who else has she sent pictures to? Is everyone okay?"
"Practically everyone," he said quietly. "She wants me to give her a lot of money, and until I do, she's going to keep sending them out."
"But surely she doesn't have that many, does she?" Artie said with a frown. "I don't understand where she got them from in the first place, but what if she's running out of photos?"
"I thought the same," added Rachel, who finished the rest of her drink before offering the three of them some of her homemade cookies (they all took one, including Lord Tubbington, who managed to snatch one from the plate when nobody was looking). "I wondered if she only had one photo for every person, but Quinn has received at least three of Noah and one of her mother, so for all we know, she could have hundreds."
The atmosphere was tense. Brittany was really their only hope, but it was obvious that they couldn't pressure her into revealing Santana's secret against her will.
"Did she send you any of Rachel, Finn?" the blonde whispered. Finn had never seen her so frightened, and by the way Artie reacted, neither had he.
"No, he hasn't, he-"
"Yeah."
Rachel's eyes widened at Finn's admittance because that was the first she'd heard of it. "What? When? Finn, why did you-"
"It wasn't anything that made you look bad," he clarified, his voice soft, "but it, well, it made me feel like an utter douchebag." He pulled the offending photo from his jeans pocket, and though it was creased in several places and covered in greasy fingerprints, the subject was easy enough to see.
Sitting on the bleachers was a younger Rachel Berry. She was wrapped up warmly and wearing the same outfit that she'd worn to go tree shopping with Finn in their junior year, and though it was in black and white, the utter devastation on her face was evident, and the tear stains on her cheeks seemed to stand out more than anything. They each took it in turns to look at the photo, and when Brittany ran a finger carefully over the picture, Finn sighed.
"Turn it over Britt."
She did as she was told, and scribbled in Santana's handwriting was a simple note; 'You killed her spirit and soul, Finn Hudson'.
"I'll tell you what happened," announced Brittany. She managed a smile when Artie took her hand in his and squeezed his tight because she knew what he was going to say before he'd even said it.
"You don't have to do this."
"I know," she said softly, "but I want to. I didn't like it when Santana split Finn and Rachel up the first time, and I don't want her to do it again because they're soulmates, Artie."
Both Finn and Rachel blushed in unison, and they too held hands, united by the strange, endearing consequences.
"Nobody's perfect San, and you're sometimes mean to people and you don't like horses, but you're my friend."
Brittany hated it when her best friend felt sorry for herself. She tried to be a good friend by telling her the truth, but Santana never seemed to listen.
"You're not going to think I'm anything when I tell you what I've done," the Latina girl said with a laugh, but the laugh wasn't a very nice one, and it made Brittany's stomach twist. "I killed someone, Brittany."
"I don't understand."
Santana paced up and down in front of her as she pulled at her hair, and Brittany noticed, for the first time, that her clothes were speckled with blood stains.
"I was desperate. I needed the money and I knew which account my dad kept his emergency funds in and I went to the bank to get it out without him knowing. It was late and I took a shortcut through an alley and this guy appeared from nowhere with a gun-" She took a deep breath to pace herself while Brittany shook her head over and over again. "I thought he was going to shoot me, and so I just, I just ran into him to wrestle the gun away and I held it in my hands and I-" Santana gazed at the blonde and her eyes filled with tears as her entire body shook. "I shot him three times. I started to run, and this other guy came up to me and he started laughing. He said that the man I'd k-killed had been carrying some money and he'd wanted to rob him, and he thanked me for doing his dirty work. I stood there and watched the creep steal from the dead guy, and then I ran, I ran, I-" Santana broke down, huge, desperate sobs wracking her body, and all Brittany could think about was the poor man that had lost his life.
"Why didn't you just take the gun and run away?" Her voice was quiet and it cracked a few times, but Santana heard her all the same, though she didn't respond. "Santana; why didn't you just take the gun and run?"
"I don't know!"
"Why-"
"I don't fucking know!" She stood up, though only to bend down in front of Brittany like she was going to kiss her feet. "Please don't judge me, please, I need you to be my friend."
"You stole from your dad and shot a frightened man. I don't want to be your friend anymore." Without looking at her, Brittany got back into her bed in an attempt to stop herself from crying out for her parents. Her best friend was a killer; what was she supposed to do?
Wondering if she'd made the wrong choice, she sat up to look at Santana once more, but the girl had disappeared out of the window.
By the time Brittany had finished telling her story, Rachel was in tears, Finn was sure he was gonna hurl, and Artie simply looked horrified. No matter how harsh Santana had been in high school, none of them had expected that, and it was clear that Brittany felt the same.
"I can't believe it," Rachel hiccupped. "I just... That innocent man..."
"How is she not in jail?" snarled Artie. His raised voice woke Lord Tubbington, who gave a wail of distress and lumbered off into Finn's bedroom to try and get some rest.
"She left Lima after we graduated," said Finn weakly, "and she must have covered her tracks. Apart from the thief, no one would have known that it was her, and she must have taken the gun with her."
Despite the new information, it was a relief to know that Santana hadn't shot him in cold blood (though Rachel couldn't help shedding tears for the man who had been wrongfully killed); it lessened the chance that she was going to do something crazy.
"Does that help at all?" Brittany finally asked. She wanted to help Finn and Rachel so much, and she only wished that she could get in contact with Santana to ask her why she was being so mean.
"No," admitted Finn. He saw Brittany's face fall, but really, the revelation didn't seem to have any connections to the pictures. "I don't know what to do next, but if you don't mind, I need to get some fresh air." Finn waved Rachel off since he needed to be on his own, and with a quick whisper of "I won't be long, and I love you," he left the apartment, trying his best to put the pieces together.
God, Santana killing someone; it was really hard to believe (but he believed it, because he could imagine the scene perfectly in his head). The problem was, if she'd taken some money from her dad on that same night, why was she so desperate for more? Maybe she just wanted to live in luxury? He sighed inwardly as he walked slowly down the street; he was sure he was missing something important.
Glee!
'I won't be long' turned into five hours, and as the minutes ticked by with no sign of Finn, Rachel felt her anxiety rising with every second. Brittany and Artie had tried to keep her distracted with photos that they'd accumulated over the years, but Rachel's enthusiasm was forced and insincere.
To make matters worse, Finn wasn't answering his cell. She'd tried calling Kurt, who hadn't heard from Finn all day, and she'd tried calling Noah, who hadn't seen Finn since the night before. She tried calling Quinn and Mercedes, but they were just as clueless, and as more time passed, Rachel knew that something was seriously wrong.
She briefly wondered if he'd visited the bar on his travels, but it was the one day of the month when it was closed for one reason or another ("All the coolest places take a day off to recover, Rach"), and she doubted that he'd spend his free time at his work place.
At the same time that Artie was about to suggest they order takeout, Rachel's cell began to beep frantically, and her heart leapt into her throat.
"Please excuse me!" she squeaked before rushing into the bedroom, sitting beside Lord Tubbington as she answered the call. "Hello?"
"Rachel-"
"Finn, where have you been? I've been so worried and I thought that-"
"I'm at the bar. You... You need to c-come over."
The elation at hearing his voice disappeared in the way that he stumbled over his words. Rachel could tell by the tone of his voice that something was wrong, and like she'd seen on trashy movies and soap operas, she wondered if he was being forced to speak to her.
She was being silly though, she knew she was being silly.
"Is someone telling you to say that, Finn? If they are, tell me where you are again."
"I said I'm at the bar." Rachel almost dropped the phone as her blood ran cold. "I have... a surprise for you, but y-you have to come alone, okay? The surprise is just... Fuck it, no, I'm not getting her involved, you can go fuck-"
All she could hear was Finn yelling in distress, and then the line went dead.
"Is he okay? I bet he just lost his watch because I do that all the time and- Rachel, what happened?"
Rachel pushed past Brittany and skidded into the living room while she tried to locate her shoes. She was shaking from head to toe and she was trying desperately not to pass out because Finn was in danger, and she was the only one who could help him. "Artie," she panted, turning to the boy in the wheelchair, "you need to call Kurt and Noah and tell them that Finn's in trouble at the bar. You also need to call the police and tell them that he's being held hostage by someone. I have to go." She was about to rush out of the door when Brittany grabbed her by the wrist, and no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't get away. "Brittany, let go, I have to leave!"
"If Finn's in danger, you will be too if you go down there! You have to let the police handle it."
Rachel stared at her in shock, not just because she'd said something intelligent, but because she was right, and it would be completely irresponsible to head down there on her own. Besides, Finn had risked his safety to stop her from going to meet him, and it would be dangerous to track him down.
"I can't just sit here and wait!" she whimpered, and Brittany engulfed her in a hug. "If anything happens to him, I don't, I can't-"
"I'll come with you."
Rachel stiffened at Brittany's suggestion, and over the blonde's shoulder, she could see the fear in Artie's eyes.
"No you won't! Brittany, you said it yourself, we have to let the police-"
"If you were in danger, I'd be at the front of the rescue team." She broke away from the hug, and Rachel looked away to give them some privacy as Brittany perched herself in Artie's lap and stared at him like he was the most important person in the world. "I know you're frightened Artie, but Rachel is too, and I told you, I won't let Santana hurt them anymore." She placed a gentle, heartfelt kiss on his lips that mingled with the tears running from Artie's eyes, and before he could protest further, she jumped up and took Rachel's hand. "Call the police, and the other guys too; we'll be fine."
"I love you Brittany."
Brittany gave Artie her biggest smile. "I love you too. Look after Tubby for me."
With that, she pulled Rachel out of the door, leaving a heartbroken Artie and an overweight cat, who was none the wiser about the day's events.
Glee!
Finn closed his eyes as another punch knocked his face sideways, and he felt the unwelcome sensation of a dislodged tooth in the back of his mouth. He spat a pool of blood onto the floor with a hiss, and braced himself for his seventh punch (or was it eighth? His head was spinning like a bitch).
"That's enough," called a voice from the darkness, and the violence stopped, if only for a minute. It was nearly eleven o'clock, and even though it was almost pitch black inside and out, the only visible light inside the bar was a flickering candle that had been placed near the chair Finn was tied to. It was impossible to see who was calling the shots in the darkness behind him, but whoever the fucker was, it was a guy, as was the bastard who had beaten the crap out of him.
God, his head killed and his cheeks killed and his stomach killed the most; someone had swiftly kicked him as he'd been dragged into the bar, and he'd never stood a chance.
"You better hope she comes," the voice snarled, and Finn winced at his splitting headache. "And you better hope she doesn't call the cops, because that won't be fun for any of us."
"Are you an idiot? Of course she's called the police." Finn didn't recognise his own goddamn voice since his throat was thick with blood, and he was trying his best to be strong. He figured that if he let his fear show through, whoever was behind it all would take enjoyment in it, and he refused to let them have the satisfaction. Therefore, though his false bravado sounded weak and uncomfortable, it was helping him keep a straight head, so that was something.
"Oh well, a fire fight should be fun, especially if Rachel arrives in time."
Finn felt his stomach twist at the way the stranger said her name. It rolled off of his tongue like a delicacy, like something that should be revered, and even though that was the way Finn pronounced it every single time, it sounded sinister and twisted from the mouth of the man.
"If you touch one hair on her head-"
"You underestimate me, Finn. When she becomes my wife, there's going to be a lot of touching. Does it count if I touch the hair between her legs? Then again, she might be a fan of waxing, and that sounds enjoyable."
Finn let out a yell of fury that sounded strangled and weak, and when he heard the snap of the man's fingers, he knew what was coming before the first blow hit him. A fist collided with his nose, and with a sickening crack, the chair nearly flew over with the force. A single tear ran down Finn's cheek, because no matter what happened, he was not going to cry, he wasn't.
"You should learn to control your anger, Mr Hudson," the stranger chastised. He snapped his fingers once more, and his hired grunt took a step back (though not before kicking Finn square between the legs, making him cry out in pain).
"W-what do you w-w-want?" he panted, trying desperately to stay conscious. His whole body throbbed, but despite that, he worried more for Rachel's safety.
He couldn't make up his mind about something. She knew that he was in danger, but would she come and find him? He hoped to God she'd stay away, but he knew that if the roles had been reversed, he would have told danger to fuck off while he made it his mission to save her.
For a second, a shiver of pride rushed through him, but it dispersed instantly when he thought of her being put in harm's way; he had to stop that from happening.
"I have m-money," he said, biting back a groan of pain "I'll... I'll give you money, and y-you can leave, I won't t-t-tell anyone."
"The offer is tempting," said the voice in a snide tone, "but everyone has money, and money is easy to obtain if you know how to obtain it. No, I want something much more precious, like a shooting star."
Finn threw up a mouthful of blood; he was after Rachel, his star, his Rachel, and he was nearly certain that she was on her way, about to walk into the trap. He threw up a second time, and heard the stranger scoff and sigh.
"Man up, Finn! Have you never been hurt before? Stop being such a baby." The snap of the man's fingers echoed through the room, and Finn blacked out as soon as a foot collided with his stomach.
Glee!
"Is it much further?" shouted Brittany as she ran side by side with Rachel. She considered herself to be fit and healthy (all part of being a dancer), yet she was struggling to keep up with the little brunette's pace. If she hadn't been so terrified for Finn, she would have smiled at that, because Rachel was being powered by love, and that was just really nice.
"It's at the end of this street," Rachel panted. It was dark, and the streets were deserted, much to her dismay. She'd hoped that if someone, anyone had been around, they could have helped them save Finn, since there had to be safety in numbers.
As it was, it was just Rachel and Brittany, two girls who had no idea what, or who, they were about to face.
Rachel's legs burnt with the effort she was forcing onto them, and though the pain and exhaustion urged her to stop and catch her breath, she managed to keep going for Finn's sake, her friend trailing behind. They were being so reckless and stupid, and it didn't make sense for Brittany to put herself in danger when the love of her life fretted for her safety. With that notion in mind, Rachel knew that she had to persuade Brittany to stay outside, if only to direct the police when they arrived.
She knew there was no way she was going to lose her. For that she was utterly grateful, because Brittany had shown really bravery and determination in choosing to accompany Rachel, but it wasn't right to make her go any further. She felt guilty for a second at what she was about to do, but it was overpowered by her need to protect her, so she didn't hesitate. "I'll go around the back, and you go via the front entrance." She stopped a few metres away from the bar to catch her breath, and Brittany did the same as she tried to regain control of her body.
"Where is it?" she panted.
Biting back her regret, Rachel pointed down the opposite street, where many bars stood, open for business. "It's the third one down." She pointed to another street that lay parallel to the one in view, and hoped that Brittany would buy it. "I'll run that way so I can get in through the back. I'll meet you in there. B-be careful."
Brittany nodded and leaned forward to wrap her in a quick hug. "You too Rachel. I know you guys will be okay." With that, the blonde sprinted down the street, passing Faithfully without a backward glance.
I really hope so, she thought silently to herself, and once Brittany was out of sight, she ran down the alley next to the bar, hoping that the back door was unlocked.
Glee!
Artie was on the verge of having a panic attack as he fumbled with the cell phone in his hands. Lord Tubbington kept mewing obnoxiously loud, which wasn't helping the situation, and as more time passed, Artie became more and more flustered. His phone was dead, and for the life of him, he couldn't locate the one in Finn's apartment. He tried to kick start the emergency battery power in his cell, but he was shaking so hard that his hands kept slipping (and it didn't help that his tears kept getting in the way).
He was pathetic! He'd been given one of the most important tasks and he couldn't even do that! He'd tried knocking on the doors of the other apartments on the same floor, but no one had answered, and the lift was out of order; there was no way he could get down the stairs.
Unashamedly sobbing, Artie began to root through his luggage, praying to a God he didn't believe in that Brittany had packed his phone charger.
Glee!
Finn woke with a growl of pain as some kind of liquid was poured onto his head. He shuddered and winced because judging by the smell, and the way his face burned with pain, it was alcohol.
"Wake up Sleeping Beauty." He blinked a few times in a pointless attempt to locate his tormenter, but the candle seemed to be growing weaker, and all he could see was the shadow of the flame projected onto the wall. "How can we have a little chat if you're asleep? You're not a very good host."
He had no idea how long he'd been out, but regardless of how much time had passed, Rachel wasn't there, and that was something; he just hoped that the police made it before she did.
A door creaked in the background, and he sucked in a breath, ignoring the pain that screamed in his chest.
"What was that?" snapped the stranger. "Someone's there, turn the lights on!"
Please don't let it be Rachel please don't let it be Rachel God just please don't let it be her
"It's her, it's Berry!"
Even though Finn had been kicked and punched within an inch of his life, nothing hurt as much as that announcement. He tried to pick himself up from the floor so he could look in her direction, but all of his energy had been depleted, and it took everything he had just to keep his eyes open.
"Finn!"
"R-Rach..." His tongue felt swollen and his lips were cracked and bleeding, and his eyelids felt heavy, really really heavy.
"Tie her up on the chair next to Hudson, then pick him back up, and hurry!"
Finn's eyes fluttered shut involuntarily, so he focused on listening to the proceedings. He could hear the contrast of Rachel's tiny, delicate steps against the thud thud thud of the guy who had kicked the crap out of him, and he could hear Rachel whimpering and sobbing. He really wished he could tell her that it was going to be okay, but he didn't want to lie to her, and his mouth was hurting too much to form words.
Then he felt himself being lifted back into his seat, and though he really wanted to sleep, he forced his eyes to open, and was met with the image of a terrified Rachel Berry. She looked unharmed, which was a relief, but she looked hurt in a different kind of way, only, his head spinning too much to understand why.
"Thank you for joining us Rachel."
Rachel knew she needed to look at the person who was doing this to them, but she couldn't draw her eyes away from Finn, who seemed to have fallen unconscious. For a split second, she feared the worst, but she could see the faint rising and falling of his chest, and she knew that he was strong enough to get through this.
She'd never seen something so awful in her entire life, and she barely recognised him beneath the bruises and cuts and his general swollen appearance. He was caked in his own blood and there were several open wounds on his face, but the most worrying thing was his eyes. Before he'd fallen asleep (she preferred to think that he was just tired, instead of the reality), Rachel had looked into his eyes, and all she had seen was pain, though not for himself. It didn't make any sense, and she knew she was the only one who'd be able to see it, but the pain in his amber eyes had been for her, and for what she was about to endure.
Rachel forced herself to look away from his broken body, and stared straight into the face of Jacob Ben Israel. She hadn't seen him since graduation when he'd tried to kiss her relentlessly after the ceremony, and she was surprised at how different he looked, yet exactly the same. His afro, which he'd been notorious for in school, had been trimmed considerably, and looked much more tamed and cared for. He sneered at her, and she noticed that the gap in his teeth had been rectified. His glasses were different and looked like they were in fashion, and his clothes were pressed and very formal, money screaming from every stitch.
Despite all of the changes, Rachel could see that he was still the same person. The way he leered over her and the way he twitched with nerves reminded her of his younger self, and with disgust, she glanced away when he looked at her breasts and licked his lips.
"Welcome to the party."
Glee!
Artie was about to throw himself down the stairs in the hope that it would gain someone's attention when Puck let himself into the apartment, followed closely by Quinn, Kurt and Mercedes.
"S'up Abrams! God, I haven't seen you in forever! I heard Hudson was having a reunion party and shit, why the fuck are you crying man?"
"No time to explain," he panted. "I need to borrow your cell."
"Why? What the-"
"Here, take mine," insisted Quinn. She passed Artie her phone and grabbed Puck's hand as the four of them watched him dial 911.
"I need to report a crime. I-I don't know, I think they need all of them."
Mercedes gulped as she looked to Kurt. "All of what?"
"The operator always asks what emergency service they need," whispered Kurt, his face white. "So Artie's asking for-"
"Yes, hi, there's some trouble at Faithfully bar. I-I don't know the street name b-but someone's being held hostage."
Kurt was sure that he would have hit the ground face first if it hadn't been for Mercedes, who grabbed him in a tight, desperate hug. They knew it was Finn before Artie gave the operator his name, since Rachel had been frantically trying to find him all night.
"Berry," croaked Puck, who had taken to stroking Quinn's back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "Where the fuck is Berry?"
"Her and Brittany went to find Finn."
"What the hell?"
"No!"
"What were they thinking?"
Puck rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and pushed against the front door. "We have to get down there."
No one argued, and no one complained as they lifted Artie down the stars of the building, only the cat staying behind to look after the apartment.
Glee!
There were many things Rachel regretted about her past experiences and choices, and as she sat helplessly while a stranger bound her in a heavy duty rope, it was her decision not to take self defence classes that troubled her the most. Her daddy had insisted relentlessly that she need to protect herself, but foolishly, she'd declined because she had Finn, and she knew he'd protect her (then, of course, only two weeks later they were no longer an item, and she couldn't face the connotations of attending classes after all).
However, there were many things she was thankful for too, and though ordinarily it wasn't applicable in the real world, she knew that it could buy her some time; her acting skills. Though she was terrified beyond measure, she was a professional, and whatever she needed to do, she could do.
"I've missed you," she said quietly to the man that leered over her. She overcame the sensation of utter disgust in her stomach because this was for Finn, and she had to do it for Finn.
"Don't try that with me," sniffed Jacob, though she could see in the faint light that he looked a little less sinister, maybe even hopeful. "I know that you're trying to play me, but it won't work."
"Do you?" Sucking in a breath, she tried her best not to glance over at Finn. "Because you should know, Jacob, that I've been miserable for all of these years. I t-thought it was because of Finn, but it wasn't... It was you." Thank God her boyfriend couldn't hear her.
She knew it was a long shot, and she knew it wasn't likely to work, but Jacob was clearly delusional, and if the whole thing had been a ploy to get her, then she was positive that this was what he wanted to hear.
"You're lying."
"I've learnt my lesson, and now I never lie." I just act, she added silently. "If you let Finn go, I'll-"
A flicker of emotion flashed over Jacob's face, and she knew instantly that she'd said the wrong thing. It was almost in slow motion, the way he stepped forward and slapped her across the cheek, and for a moment, the pain didn't register. Only when the thug, who seemed to be Jacob's sidekick, grabbed her by the hair and tugged her to the ground, did she feel the pain ripple through her, intensified by her fear, intensified by the image of Finn slumped in the chair, intensified by the worry that help was going to come too late.
"Jack, get some water to throw over Hudson." Jacob paused before a devilish grin appeared on his lips. "Actually, find the most expensive vodka you can, and we'll use that; it seems more poetic, don't you think?"
Jack snickered in a way that made Rachel bite back a groan of terror, and she cowered on the ground, forced to watch as the large, formidable man began to smash bottle after bottle behind the bar. Glass shards shattered against the floor, spirits of all different colours stained the walls, and the coffee machine gave an indignant creak before it was pulled from its position and thrown unceremoniously to the ground.
"Hurry up!" Jacob snapped. "We don't have a lot of time, and we can trash it later!"
The man nodded and grabbed a large bottle of vodka. He trudged towards Finn, grinning stupidly from ear to ear, and with a silent gasp, Rachel realised what they were doing.
She remembered clearly her first experience on her brand new pink bike at six years old, and she remembered clearly her first experience of falling off of her brand new pink bike at six years old. The gash on her knee had looked worse than it felt, but her daddy had insisted that they had to treat it properly, and he'd rushed her into the house and planted her on the kitchen counter while he searched for the first aid kit. She'd only cried a little, and though she didn't tell her daddy, she'd been glad that she'd fallen off, because it meant she was allowed to wear a pretty pink band aid to match her bike. She waited while her daddy inspected various bottles of medicine, and she looked down curiously as he held a brown one in his hand while he shook a little.
He'd told her to be brave, like he always did, and he told her that it might sting, like he always did, but she was a brave little girl, and she knew that if she didn't cry, he'd give her a sugar cookie for being a superstar.
Only this time, it had stung, really really stung, and her daddy had rocked her in his arms as he told her that the medicine was a special one for big girls only, and that the alcohol in it would make her leg better.
Snapped back to reality, Rachel knew what was going to happen before it did, and as the vodka splashed onto Finn's stationary body, he came to with a whimper while he shook violently, trying to endure the stinging. Tears ran down her face.
"I need you to be awake, Finn for my grand unveiling, so hurry and compose yourself." Jacob slapped Finn around the face, and Rachel let out a scream that she hadn't realised she'd been holding.
"Leave him alone!"
Jacob looked down at Rachel and glanced between her and Finn, and a small, calculating smile formed on his lips. "Pick her up and put her in Hudson's lap."
Jack looked confused, but not one to disobey orders, her roughly grabbed Rachel by the arms and shoved her against Finn. For a split second, she wondered if Jacob was having second thoughts, that he'd seen the error of his ways; unfortunately, he hadn't. As she was dropped on top of him, Finn let out a low groan of pain, because fucking hell, everywhere hurt. Rachel wasn't heavy, but when his entire body was throbbing, she was an unwelcome pressure on his bruises.
Still, though he had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying, and though his hands were tied to the chair, he leaned his head forward and pressed a brief, clammy kiss to Rachel's neck because they were going to get through this, no matter what. "I love you Rach," he whispered hoarsely, and she turned her face to look at him, her eyes brimming with tears.
"I love you too."
"Alright, that's enough, unless either of you want Jack to play with you a little more."
Reluctantly, the two of them focused their attention on Jacob. Like some kind of large cat, who seemed to prowl up and down in front of them, twitching occasionally as he glanced towards the door.
"What do you-"
"Ah ah ah, that's enough Miss Berry, I'm calling the shots around here, and you'll do as I say." His head snapped towards the back of the bar, but convinced he was hearing things, he faced Finn and Rachel again, sneering at them. "I used to watch movies and sympathise with the villains," he began, pacing up and down while his eyes darted from side to side. "I understood their motives and their frustrations because I, like them, had experienced some kind of torment. Like them, I'd been bullied for the most trivial of reasons, and I too felt the need to seek revenge on those that had made my life hell." He stopped, cocking his head as he seemed to look away in thought. "What I didn't understand was why the bad guy always felt the need to tell the hero everything before they tried to kill them. Why confess your crimes? It always backfired, and then the villain would lose the fight."
"Maybe it's because-"
"I said be quiet!" Jacob snapped, glaring at Rachel with nothing but hatred in his eyes. Though his appearance had been altered a little, it was his soul that had faced the biggest change of all, and Rachel wasn't so sure that he had one anymore. "I understand, now, why they do it. I know that the two of you won't be leaving here alive, and I want you to know the extent of my master plan. Otherwise, my work will go unappreciated, and I don't want that."
Finn felt like someone had punched him in the stomach for the fourth time that night. You won't be leaving here alive; like hell they weren't. Ignoring the constant burning that shimmered over his skin, he tried to free his hands; that's all he needed to stop this from happening.
As if on cue, Rachel leaned in a little closer to him. He could see the way she winced, worried she was causing him unnecessary pain, and for a brief second, he thought she was going to hug him and admit defeat. But no, she kept her eyes focused on Jacob while she inched her hands towards Finn's bound ones. He felt her begin to tug on the rope, and he wriggled against it to try and help her while they continued to listen to Jacob; he couldn't know or he'd probably finish them there and then.
"So, now's the time I tell you about my plan, and you'll be so impressed with the measures I've gone to to achieve my goals that you'll welcome the end, trust me." He pulled up a chair in front of them as if sitting down to talk about casual things over coffee, and began to wring his hands back and forth. "Firstly, wasn't it clever of me to use Santana to do my bidding?" Both Finn and Rachel's eyes widened in unison, though Rachel didn't stop trying to untie her boyfriend's hands.
"S-Santana? She was- The two of you-"
"Yes, Hudson, she was under my control the entire time." Jacob smirked at them both, and Rachel felt her stomach churn at the very sight. "It's amazing what witnessing a crime can do to your existence. I'd been walking home innocently when I saw Santana pull a gun on a stranger and shoot him down, and like any good reporter, I was carrying my flipcam, and managed to record it, gruesome details and all."
"You blackmailed her," Rachel said quietly.
Jacob nodded. "Sure, it took a bit of work tracking her down after the little incident, and then she nearly blew my head off when I told her I'd seen it all, but we soon came to an agreement, and things have been wonderful ever since." He leaned forward in his seat, and Finn moved back instinctively, as if worried that the guy was going to breathe fire on them. "Only, I have a little secret that I haven't shared with her; did you want to hear it?"
"You're gonna tell us anyway, so just get it over with," Finn snapped through sore, cracked lips, and Jacob gave him a sour glare, his eyes darkening behind his glasses.
"Santana didn't kill the man. She badly wounded him, yes, but someone must have called an ambulance, and with my legendary reporting skills, I managed to ascertain that the victim was stable when he arrived at the hospital."
"So you've been forcing her to do your dirty work all this time, because she feared she would spend her life in jail?" Though Rachel didn't want to talk to Jacob unless absolutely necessary, she knew she'd fallen into his trap; she was genuinely intrigued to hear how everything came together, since she was having a hard time piecing the story together.
Besides, she hoped that if she kept him talking, Jacob wouldn't notice that she'd almost undone the knots around Finn's arms (she felt her heart race when his fingers briefly squeezed hers to tell her everything would be okay).
"What happened to you, Jacob? When did you become so bitter and manipulative?"
"High school." He said the word like poison on his tongue while staring angrily at the floor. "High school is a piece of cake for some, or so they say. If you're smart, you'll do fine." He laughed completely without humour, and the noise gave Rachel goosebumps. "I was smart, but I was also an outcast, a nerd, a dork, a worthless piece of shit, take your pick. While people like Hudson could walk around school without fear of violence, I had to endure endless bullying." He sniffed, and pushed his glasses further onto his nose. "I was tormented constantly because of my hair, my teeth, my glasses, my name, and on graduation day, when I was finally ready to leave the hellhole of McKinley, three jocks kicked the crap out of me and left me in a dumpster, broken and bleeding."
Rachel couldn't help it; she gasped and shook her head, because no one deserved that kind of treatment.
"Who-"
"It doesn't matter. I managed to crawl out, dirty and alive, and I cleaned myself up before attending the graduation ceremony. No one understand my pain, but then I saw Rachel Berry, completely alone on one of the most important days of her life, and I thought that she of all people would understand, would want to help."
Rachel smiled for her dads as they took yet another photo of her trying to be happy and proud, but she couldn't keep her gaze away from Finn, who was being engulfed in hug after hug. Carole was openly crying as she smoothed down his shirt while taking pictures of her baby, and Burt was getting misty eyed over the sight of Finn and Kurt in their graduation gowns.
"Rachel honey, look this way and smile," cooed her daddy, and Rachel tried desperately to ignore the entire Glee club bombarding Finn in hugs and tears and general shouts of encouragement. She caught his eye and gave him the briefest of smiles, and for a second, he looked like he wanted to come over to say something.
He didn't though, and he simply returned her half smile before pulling his mom in for a hug; her daddy made sure to delete the photos of his daughter crying.
"If you could excuse me, I'm just going to get some water." She hurried away from her parents before they could protest, and without looking where she was going, Rachel ran straight into Jacob Ben Israel, who was watching her with an intense stare that made her feel uncomfortable.
"I was looking for you Rachel. This could be our last chance for the two of us to become an item, so I thought I should declare my love for you while I can."
"I'm sorry Jacob but I'm not interested in you in that way, and I really have to go."
"But I need your help with-"
"I have to go."
She disappeared to find a bathroom so she could reapply her mascara, oblivious to Jacob's broken heart.
"I didn't... I d-didn't know you needed help, I w-was upset, and I-"
"Save it," Jacob said sharply. "It was at that moment that I realised that no one would ever care for me, so I set out on my own to seek revenge on those that had harmed me. And then, of course, I saw Santana casually shooting a man in an alley, and it continued from there." He stood up from his chair and rubbed a hand down his arm as he let out a yawn. "There's not much else to tell, and then it'll be time for the two of you to pay for the humiliation you put me through."
"This was all about money?" Finn croaked, wincing at the pain in his throat. "All the s-stuff with the p-pictures?"
"No." Jacob stood up again and began to pace up and down, like there was some great weight on his shoulders. "I wanted you to pay, Finn, not just with money but with dignity. You took Rachel from me time and time again, and then you left her, broken hearted."
"I was never yours in the first place!" Rachel spat, her hands squeezing Finn's. "I was the one to blame for hurting Finn, not the other way round, and you had no business trying to ruin his life!"
"He ruined mine!" Jacob shrieked, and Rachel had never heard him so angry before. "Him and the rest of the football players made my life hell, and they locked me in someone's cellar for three days!"
"That wasn't me," Finn said weakly, spitting out an alarming amount of blood onto the floor. He could barely focus on the man in front of him since his eyes were stinging and he was consistently fighting the urge to pass out. "Yeah, I made mistakes in the past, but I didn't do that, not to you, not to anyone. It was me that-" He slumped forward and rested his face against Rachel's shoulder; it felt nice not to hold himself up anymore. "Rach, my head hurts," he slurred, and he could feel her tears without needing to open his eyes.
"It doesn't matter either way," said Jacob quickly. "I have my money, I've sent out all of the photos I needed to, and Santana's waiting outside; I think I'll have her finish you off."
He disappeared into the back of the bar, leaving Jack to watch over them, then stumbled slightly as his fear caught up with him.
He was sure, he was sure Hudson had been there when arms had been grabbing and hitting him, and he was sure he'd seen Finn's face as they'd locked him in the darkened room.
No.
He remembered seeing his face alright, as one of the boys who had pulled him out of that place, who had giving him something to drink, who had taken him to the hospital.
He threw up violently, clutching the wall for support as memory after memory flooded through his head. He couldn't be wrong! His grand scheme, to ruin Finn's life, was because he'd been there to ruin Jacob's! He'd remember if he'd been there to save him!
"Dude, be quiet, I think I can hear him."
"H-help, somebody!"
"Fuck, Finn, what the hell where they thinking? This shit is out of order."
"I dunno, but we need to get him out. Come on! Jacob, can you hear us? It's Finn Hudson and Noah Puckerman, are you there?"
"Let's just leave him, it's just Jewfro-"
"No. Jacob, can you hear us?"
Jacob stared down at his hands, and he was sure he could feel the invisible blood that coated his fingers; what the fuck had he done?
Glee!
Santana shakily lit her fourth cigarette in ten minutes. She was completely on edge, and whatever Jacob was doing in there, she knew that he was up to no good. What the hell was he doing in Hudson's bar? She was pretty sure he wasn't robbing the place, but she'd learnt long ago that there was no point trying to understand the crazy schemes he came up with.
"Damn it," she snapped as she fumbled with the lighter in her hand. "Light you fucking- That's better." She drew in a large breath, her eyes flickering at the sensation of nicotine infecting her lungs, and she blew it out again, watching the tiny sparks dance in the cold night air.
She tried to forget that she had a gun tucked inside the rim of her jeans, and tried to forget the way the weapon had felt in her hand, her finger pulling sharply on the trigger.
Jacob had told her to use it if anyone tried to go inside the bar, and though she doubted anyone would bother, her eyes kept flickering to the uncomfortable bulge in her pants, the outline of the gun more than visible in the moonlight.
"We'll try the back exit."
Santana stiffened, dropping the cigarette to the floor. She could hear voices getting gradually closer, and fuck, who the hell was sniffing around? She pulled the gun out of her jeans and held onto it for dear life, hoping she wouldn't need to use it, wouldn't have to use it.
"We should wait for the police Puck, we don't know what's happening."
"I'm not letting Finn fucking die because I was too chicken to get him! You need to stay outside though."
Santana cursed under her breath in Spanish; she could clearly hear Puckerman and Fabray, and by the sound of things, they weren't alone.
She couldn't shoot them.
She had to though.
But she wouldn't.
The high metal fence that cordoned off the bar's backyard suddenly shook, and the gate opened with a forceful creak, to which five figures appeared in the dimly lit space.
"We can't just walk in there Puckerman, they might be armed!" whispered Kurt, whose voice cracked repeatedly.
"Don't worry about it, I'll go in on my own."
"Are you crazy?" snapped Artie. "I'm coming with you."
"Actually," announced Santana as she stepped out of the shadows, gun raised, "none of you are going inside." She flashed them the briefest of smiles. "Sorry."
"Santana." Mercedes spoke her name as a statement, rather than a question, and the Latina cocked her head with interest.
"Why hello there Wheezy, what a pleasant surprise." She twisted her lips into some semblance of a grin, though her resolve didn't waver, and the gun remained fixed on Puck (if needed, she could easily aim for any of them). "Hummel, Wheels, it's good to see you too."
"Where are Finn and Rachel?" At the fear in Quinn's voice, Puck took her hand and squeezed it gently in an attempt to reassure her, though it did little to quell her nerves. "What have you done with them?"
The smile of Santana's face disappeared, replaced by a frown of confusion. "I don't- They're not here."
"You don't know 'cause you're not in charge." Puck snorted, shaking his head. "I knew you didn't have the brains to be behind this shit. You're just the silly little bitch who does the dirty work, aren't you?"
"What are you doing? Don't provoke her!" hissed Kurt. He'd taken Santana to be many things, but he stared at the gun in disbelief; he'd never seen one in real life before, and it made him feel sick just looking at it.
"What? I'm just keeping it real," Puck deadpanned. "What's the deal, Lopez? Does your boss pay you a nice sum? Does he throw in a free fuck?"
"Shut it Puckerman," she yelled, the gun shaking a little in her hands. "You don't know anything, so shut the hell up!"
"I do though." Santana's eyes flickered towards Artie, who wheeled himself forward so they were face to face. "Brittany told me everything. She's in there with Rachel, trying to stop Finn from being hurt, and no matter what you did in the past, I know that she still cares about you." He fought back a gulp as Santana redirected the gun to face him. "You're still her best friend."
"I can't let you in there," she barked, though insecurity had cracked her confidence a little. It had been hard enough seeing Puck and Quinn at the bar, but now that Kurt, Mercedes and Artie were in the mix, her decisions were making less and less sense.
And Brittany... She couldn't believe Brittany was in the building, metres away from her, and her heart ached at the realisation that no, they weren't friends anymore, because the blonde had turned her back on Santana when she'd needed it the most.
With that in mind, she pressed a finger to the trigger, trying to ignore the way that Artie recoiled, the way Mercedes cried out, the way Kurt covered his face, the way Quinn screeched in protest, the way Puck just stared, as if he'd always known she was a screw up.
"Let us in," he said hoarsely, and though he was acting cocky and pissy and exactly like himself, Santana could hear the rawness and fear in his voice.
"You actually give a crap about Hudson and Berry?" She flicked the gun towards Puck's head, noting the way Quinn's eyes widened, a silent scream on her lips.
"Course I do," he replied gruffly. "Finn's practically my brother, and he's my best friend, and Rachel might be a pain in the ass, but she's still my pain in the ass."
He took a cautious step towards her, and she immediately reached for the trigger.
"Don't mess with me Puckerman, I don't want to shoot you."
"I know you don't," he said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender, "and I know you're not as fucked up as you think you are, 'cause you can stop this." He nodded towards his friends behind him, and Santana's confidence wavered again. "We used to be your teammates, remember? We don't wanna cause you any trouble; we just wanna save Finn and Rachel."
"But why?" The gun began to shake as she held her breath, trying to compose herself but failing with every second that passed. She couldn't deal with this shit, with the talking and the looks of horror and pain. She couldn't deal with the way Puck looked understanding; as if he could ever understand what she'd been through, what she'd done and seen and regretted every day! "You hated Berry, you all did, just like me, so why does she get to win you all back?"
"Because she's our friend, San," answered a voice behind Mercedes, and Santana felt like her heart had been wrenched out of her chest. "Friends forgive each other, even if it takes a long time."
"Brittany!" Artie wheeled towards her, temporally forgetting the danger in front of him, and pulled Brittany into his lap so that he could cover her in kisses. "I'm so glad you're safe," he choked out, and Brittany wiped away the tears that steamed up his glasses. "Where are Rachel and Finn?"
"I don't know," she said softly, and Artie stiffened in his seat. "Rachel lied to me, Artie, she sent me the wrong way so I wouldn't help her. I'm so stupid, I can't believe that I let her get away!"
"You're not stupid," he insisted, taking her hand and holding it to his heart. "She just didn't want you to get hurt."
"We can all save her now though." Brittany stood up, looking warmly at Santana as she took Puck's hand, along with Kurt's. "You're coming, right San?"
"No," she said flatly, aiming he gun at her former best friend. She hoped, for a mad second, to see fear in her eyes, but she looked confused, as if they were playing a game and she couldn't remember the rules. "And you're not going in there, unless you want me to shoot you."
Brittany steeled herself and tugged Puck and Kurt forward. "We have to save them!"
"Move again and I'll shoot, I'll fucking shoot!"
"No you won't San, you're not a bad person."
Brittany took another step towards the door, and as the night echoed with the sound of a bullet rushing through the air, she looked down at her stomach, where a tiny hole had begun to gush with blood. She dabbed numbly at the wound, unable to hear Quinn's screams, Puck's yells, Artie's tears.
Brittany looked at Santana, and simply shook her head once. "I don't understand."
And then she fell.
Glee!
"Finn baby, please, wake up." Rachel gently shook Finn's shoulder, and he murmured something under his breath, though his eyes remained closed. Blood seemed to be dripping from him somewhere, and the more time that passed, the more desperate Rachel became. "Finn, please, you're going to be okay, you-"
"Can it lady," said the gruff voice of Jacob's henchman, and Rachel turned her attention to him, glaring as her body shook.
"Can't you see he's dying? I need to get him to the hospital! Please, just let us go, just let us-"
Whoever the man was, he had an extremely powerful slap, and Rachel's head snapped backwards as her eyes overflowed with tears.
"Don't you dare touch my girl, you hear me?" Finn managed to lift up his head, which was pounding pounding pounding with pain and confusion and fucking hatred for Jacob, and as much as he needed to sleep or die or something, there was no way some creep was gonna hurt Rachel and get away with it.
It didn't help that the bastard had the balls to laugh in his face as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket. "Or what, you gonna spit some blood at me and throw a hissy fit?" He snorted to himself and shook his head. "Waste of space, the pair of you."
Finn was about to scream a few profanities when Jacob stumbled in, no longer looking confident and in control. His face was devoid of any colour, sweat seemed to pour down his face, and he looked terrified.
"Did you hear that?" he asked in a panic, and Jack shrugged his shoulders dumbly. "A gunshot, Santana's just fired at someone! We have to get out of here."
"What about Hudson? I thought you wanted-"
"I made a mistake," Jacob shouted in a blur. "Leave them, we need to go before the police arrive!"
Though it had been a few years since she'd seen it, Rachel remembered spending the evening at Finn's house while they watched a movie called Zoolander. She hadn't had the pleasure (or displeasure, she couldn't make up her mind) of watching many Ben Stiller movies, and Finn had been more than eager to catch her up.
They'd settled on the couch together, a large bowl of popcorn between them, and when Finn let out huge belly laughs, he made her laugh just listening to him. She hadn't been particularly fussed on the movie herself, but it was nice that he'd been enjoying himself all the same.
One scene in particular had stuck in her mind, and she remembered rolling her eyes incredulously at what she was seeing; men spraying each other in gas before one of them lit a cigarette. She remembered thinking that honestly, no one was that stupid, but as she finally managed to free Finn's hands, wondering what the mistake could possibly be, and as he managed to stumble upright, holding her protectively in his arms, ready to fight them if he had to, they watched in slow motion as Jacob's sidekick nodded in a daze, and dropped a lit match to the alcohol soaked floor.
Everything went up in flames.
A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay, and oops, yeah, this is a bit of a cliffhanger but it's over 12000 words long and I didn't want to split it up even further. Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed so far, and to those who have added this story to their favourites; it means the world to me!
Reviews would be appreciated! :)