April Fools
by SiennaKnight

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

Chapter 10

"Come on, Stretchmarks, a love potion? Really? There's no such thing as magical spells that make people fall in love with you. Why would Rachel of all people love you?"

Quinn slammed the door behind her, causing the house to rock in protest. She was such an idiot.

Her head filled with white noise as she tried to quell the raw emotion that thudded painfully in her chest. No matter how much it hurt her, she refused to let them have any more power over her. Cradling her head in her hands, she attempted to even her breathing as a fresh wave of shame swept through her.

"What, no comeback? Just gonna run away?" Santana yelled from the front porch.

Clenching her fists, Quinn let out a scoff and turned her head away from the door. She'd never hated anyone more than she hated Santana in that moment. She knew they weren't friends. They were barely friendly acquaintances. Despite that, she never imagined the other girl would stoop this low. How naïve of her.

It was all so clear. She let them play her, and she fell right into their stupid, little trap. It was so obvious. She might as well have been in on the whole thing, given how stupidly she did everything they wanted. And for what? Rachel didn't love her. Rachel would never love her. Did she expect her to? After years of torturing the other girl, what could she possibly have thought was going to happen? That she'd drop it and they'd go running off into the sunset? Rachel hated her. And now she's proved it.

How could she be so stupid?

Quinn bowed her head, her jaw clenching tightly as she felt fresh tears form in her eyes. Rather than let them fall, she hastily wiped them away and swallowed down the lump in her throat. She let out a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. She refused to give in. She refused to let them win.

Even if it felt like they already had.

"I don't know, Rach… It sounds like a bad idea," Kurt remarked, his face twisted in a grimace. "Why do you even want to contact her? You guys were never friends or anything… In fact, I seem to remember her bullying you every day for years."

Rachel sighed, looking away from her friend and back to her computer. Kurt was right, of course. They were never friends. Their "relationship" only lasted a week, and it wasn't even like it was real. "I know that, Kurt. You don't have to remind me."

Kurt narrowed his eyes, before scooting closer to Rachel and looking over her shoulder. "Then why are you still trying to find her? She made high school miserable for us. I have no interest in seeing what she's up to, and you shouldn't either." Rachel breathed in deeply, not quite sure why she felt so worked up over the whole situation.

"Because, Kurt…" Rachel trailed off. She still hadn't told her friend about what happened. She hadn't told anyone what happened; not that they would've believed her. Maybe this was a bad idea. "You're right," she said suddenly, shutting her laptop with a little more force than necessary. She didn't know why she wanted to contact Quinn. They had a poor relationship before the incident, and they had an even poorer one after. "There's no reason to contact her. She wouldn't even be interested in what I have to say, anyway."

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows, watching his friend with a curious look. "Alriiight," Kurt said slowly. "I just don't see why—"

"I thought you wanted to go over lines for your new musical. Isn't that why you came?" Rachel interrupted, swiveling to face her friend and causing him to blink in surprise. Backing up a bit, Kurt looked at her in confusion for a moment before shaking his head. He was used to Rachel's eccentricity, but he sensed there was something more to it than that.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he quipped, deciding to drop it. He knew Rachel well enough to know she didn't want to talk about. While he'd normally try to push a little bit more to see what was up, something about Quinn made him nervous. He knew Rachel had a bad past with her, and from one day to the next, the blonde went from torturing her to ghosting her. All after that weird week that Rachel went crazy. Every time he tried to ask her about it, she'd change the subject or pretend she didn't hear him. Sighing, Kurt reached into his bag to retrieve his screenplay and flipped to the first page. "I was hoping that you could play this girl named Priscilla. The gist of the musical is that this man has schizoaffective disorder. Think A Beautiful Mind. Basically, his disorder creates a delusion of a woman who's the love of his life. He's fully aware she doesn't actually exist, but that doesn't stop him from loving her.

Rachel raised an eyebrow, a bit apprehensive. "That's a bit dark, no? Is that really appropriate for a musical? What would they even sing about?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at her stupid question. "There is never a time when singing isn't appropriate. Besides," he said, eyeing Rachel in accusation. "I said nothing to you when you did that one musical about masturbating."

Rachel gasped. Spring Awakening was a brilliant piece about the inner and outer tumult of teenage sexuality. "Excuse you, Kurt. It was about my character's sexual awakening amidst the perils of being a teenager in 19th-century Germany," she huffed, snatching the screenplay out of Kurt's hand and skimming through it. "Besides, we're not talking about me."

"That'd be a first," Kurt joked, laughing as he saw Rachel narrow her eyes. "Do you have any wine around here? I think this party deserves a little wine."

Rachel looked up at her friend, trying to decide if he was making another one of his jokes. "It's 3 in the afternoon, Kurt," she said, before pausing a moment. On second thought. "It's in the pantry next to the fridge. Bring me a glass, too?"

"What's wrong, Mr. Jenkins? Is it your feet? Do you want them propped up?" Quinn asked, staring in confusion at her patient. He had just come out of surgery a few hours ago, but he hadn't yet opened his eyes. At the blonde's question, the older man wagged his finger, gesturing toward his lower half.

"Uhm… Is it…?" she asked, her eyes following his hands. When he started grasping at towards his little Mr. Jenkins, Quinn's eyes widened in realization. "Do you have to go the bathroom? It's okay, sir, I already inserted a catheter. You can go at any time." A look of relief swept across the older man's face, and Quinn watched as his body relaxed. Guess that solved that mystery. "Alright, sir, you have a button on your left side by your hand that pages us in case you need anything. Your nurse will be here in a moment to administer your pain meds, and then we're going to give you a chance to rest. You've been through a lot, so we don't recommend pushing yourself just yet."

When she received no response, Quinn nodded again, before heading over to the soiled linen container. After grabbing the bag, tying it, and securing it over her shoulder, the blonde smiled again at the older man. "I'm going to head out now, but remember to call us for anything you need. We'll be checking on you periodically to monitor your vitals."

Quinn waited a moment for a response, before exiting into the hall and beginning her trek to the chute room to deposit the soiled linen. It was finally Monday, and Quinn was tired. Between school, church, and squashing down her personal life, the blonde felt like her "weekend" wasn't really much of a break. Not that it ever really was.

Quinn felt off balance. She couldn't stop thinking about Saturday night, and for as hard as she fought against it, her mind kept drifting back to Rachel and their past. She was lying if she said she was completely over everything that happened in high school. She had immediately buried herself in schoolwork and club activities, and refused to even think about what she called, "The Incident." She didn't talk to anyone about it, and instead just pretended the whole thing was a nightmare. Though the shock and initial pain had long since faded away, it had been hard for her to let go of her anger. Not just at Rachel and Santana, but at herself. She just wanted to put that chapter of her life to rest. She'd moved on. Running into Rachel this past Saturday was unexpected, but Quinn wasn't about to let her forget about her new life.

With that said…

Quinn looked at her watch, before heading down the hall and toward her charge nurse for the day. It was already four, and Quinn still hadn't taken her lunch. It'd been such a busy day due to the influenza outbreak in the area that she'd barely even had time to catch her breath. Not that she was going to use her lunch to take a break. She had things to do.

As the blonde reached the other woman, she took note of the other woman's appearance. She was an older lady; a veteran at the hospital. Unsurprisingly, the woman looked a little frazzled from the day. She watched as the woman's eyebrows furrowed, deep in concentration as she made notes on her charts. "Renee?" Quinn asked, causing the older woman to blink and look up. "I collected all of the soiled linen for the floor and finished my rounds. I was wondering if I could take my lunch? Or was there something else you wanted me to do before I head out?"

"No, no, I think you're good to take off," she said, her voice sounding far away and distracted. The older woman glanced at a nearby computer screen, blinking in surprise at the time. Was it really already four? "When you come back, I'm going to need you to clean and sterilize Room 387. Mrs. Warner's about to check out and we need the room ASAP."

"Yes, ma'am," Quinn nodded, before giving the older woman a mini salute. "I'll be back in 30." With that, the blonde spun on her heels and speed-walked out the door. She hoped she wasn't too late.

Less than five minutes later, Quinn had made it to the other side of the hospital and stood in front of the door to the post-OP rehab facility. She knocked twice on the door, before stepping back and smoothing out her scrubs. A few moments later, the door swung open and Quinn found herself face to face with Brittany Pierce.

"Quinn!" the taller girl squealed, reaching out and embracing her before she had a chance to protest. A large smile rested on Brittany's lips, before she scrunched her face in confusion. "Why are you here? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," Quinn said in reassurance.

"What do you mean?" Brittany asked, causing Quinn to furrow her eyebrows.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? I'm good. I'm fine, Brittany," she said, already confused by their interaction. Sometimes she didn't really know what to say to the taller girl. "I came here to talk about that thing we talked about awhile go."

"What thing?"

Biting her lip, Quinn put her hands on her hips and appraised the other girl. Three months ago, the blonde was minding her own business and working her rounds when suddenly some random person attacked her from behind in a hug. When she turned around and got ahold of herself, Quinn was shocked to see Brittany standing behind her in bright pink scrubs. It wasn't that she didn't miss the other girl. It was just that with Brittany came Santana and with Santana came so much more. "I… ran into Rachel on Saturday," Quinn said, a little hesitant. Brittany gasped, her lips forming a little 'o' as she began to catch on. "I just want to make sure we're still on the same page. I'd prefer it if you continued to refrain from telling Santana that I work here. I just- you know what happened, Brittany. I don't know if Santana even talks to Rachel, but I just wanted to remind you that nothing's changed between us."

Brittany sighed. She remembered the conversation. "I know. But you know that I told you I wouldn't lie to her if she asked. I don't want to get in the middle of this. She's my wife, Quinn."

Quinn let out a short breath of air, her face remaining unchanged. She knew this would happen. She knew the second that she found out Brittany had been hired on as a Physical Therapist that everything from her past was going to get dug up somehow. That's what she got for moving to New York. Why couldn't she have gone to medical school in California? USC had a fantastic PA school.

"I know that. I just ask that you don't tell her unless you need to," Quinn said, rubbing at her temples. "I appreciate everything you've done for me so far. I know you don't have to, so… thank you."

Brittany nodded, an almost sad smile forming on her lips. Santana told her about everything that transpired as soon as it happened. She was hoping that everything would blow over after a couple weeks, but it never did. "No problem, Quinn. I have to get back to work now, but I'll see you?"

"Of course," Quinn responded, rocking on the balls of her feet. "I'll see you, Brittany."

"Bye, Kurt," Rachel drawled, a bit louder than she'd anticipated. Normally, she wouldn't let her friends leave when they'd had too much to drink, but since he literally lived three doors down, she thought she'd let it slide. "Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe." Kurt rolled his eyes at her, but waved anyway as he began walking to his door. Giggling to herself, Rachel closed the door and locked it. She was so funny.

"Hmm…" Rachel swept over her living room. What a mess. It was about 8 o'clock, and her and Kurt had spent hours going over lines, talking about the latest drama at work, and drinking wine. Rachel wasn't drunk, but she certainly felt a little tipsy. Walking over to her coffee table, she began to gather up the dirty dishes and empty bottles that littered the living room.

After an entirely unacceptable amount of time, she finally finished washing a grand total of three dishes without injury. Rachel put her hands on her hips. Now what?

Her eyes trailed to her phone, which was sprawled out on the couch next to her laptop. She imagined a lightbulb shining over her head. Less than a minute later, she found Santana's contact information and listened to the ring tone as the call tried to connect.

"What do you want?" Santana barked on the other end.

"Can't I just call because I miss you?" Rachel asked, trying to school her voice to prevent it from slurring.

"Have you been drinking?" the other girl asked, immediately hearing the change in Rachel's voice. It wasn't like her to drink; especially not on a Monday when she had work the next morning.

"No!" Rachel gasped. How did she know? "I only had one drink."

"Don't lie to me, Rachel," Santana said, and the smaller brunette could practically see her eyes narrowing at her. Rachel huffed. She was a grown woman, dammit. She could drink with her best friend if she wanted to.

"Don't scold me, Santana. Last time I checked, you're neither my mom nor my dads." Before the other girl could get another word in, Rachel decided to cut right to the chase. "I have something to tell you."

There was a pause on the other end. "Are you pregnant?"

Rachel huffed. "That's not funny." She eyed her pantry as she debated whether she should have more alcohol. She may have had work the next morning, but it was only 8:30, right? She had plenty of time. "You know I haven't felt comfortable doing… that with anyone since Jesse." Reaching into her pantry, she grabbed the last of her wine and popped off the temporary cork. Instead of grabbing a glass, she took a swig straight from the bottle.

"Well, what is it, then?"

Rachel let out a breath, feeling a little nervous suddenly. "I… ran into Quinn."

a/n: Hey, guys! I first want to thank everyone for the amazing welcome back. I really never expected there to still be anyone out there, but you guys proved me wrong. I'm so happy to finally be a part of this community again, as I'd almost forgotten how encouraging and engaged everyone is. It's truly the best community out there.

With that said...

How do you guys feel now that Santana's back? She may have matured a bit, but yknow... not that much. She is Santana, after all. Is there anything you guys are hoping to see? A blowout fight? A tearful forgiveness? Or Quinn remaining strong in her decision to keep these two as far away from her as possible?

Thanks again, everyone!