(A/n Here's the deal, I'm currently in New York (rather than the usual London) so I'm pretty jet-lagged and over-all knackered. As a result, this is the shortest chapter so far. I'm on holiday for the next 3 or 4 weeks in various places so updating may possibly be a difficulty. So, to prevent missing out on this week's update, have it a day early (or maybe it's still a Monday, time-zones are beyond me).

Oh, and I tweaked the summary a bit because I won't be getting to the '8 years later' bit for a while. I was gonna do the whole story as a recollection, but it didn't seem to work out that way.

Previously: "Don't even say anything. Don't say a thing." Quinn took her face in her hands and kissed her softly. )


The muscles in her cheek clenched. Her temples tensed beneath her skin and her nostrils flared. An ice cold gaze was merciless on all those who walked past and to those who watched her. The difference though was that no-one flinched, no-one reacted. They just murmured. God, Quinn hated the murmuring. The constant hum of conversation that encompassed her as she walked from class to class. She would catch parts but it was never anything different; always the same. Always about that god forsaken video that still played in each room of the building. Figgins still hadn't returned to the school and so the loop still continued endlessly. She had managed to stop flinching at the gunshot after the third hour. Then she had become numb. The sound just went straight through her, no damage. By the fifth hour the anger set in once more. By fifth hour she was ready to murder someone. A freshman stood in front of her locker chatting aimlessly with another student and Quinn lowered her stare. The girl shivered and side stepped out of her way. At least that's something, she thought. She roughly shoved her books into her locker and as she removed her necessary equipment, two people edged towards her. They had taken note of her change in manner and had decided to approach with caution. Quinn looked up with an annoyed huff but her lips quirked at her peers. They returned it and breathed their own sighs, theirs being in relief.

"We were wondering if you'd like to walk with us to Calc."

Tina shot her a hesitant smile but Mike's was wide and genuine. Quinn couldn't help but return one. She could never help herself when it came to him. Mike had been a silent reassuring force throughout her mangled childhood after he had moved to the area when he was 5. His father had taken her to school all the times that her mother was passed out or her father was 'away on business'. His mother had fed her after she had snuck out from her house despite being grounded for meagre reasons. His younger brother had a crush on her and his older sister had seen her as her own disciple before she had gone away to Dartmouth. They all walked in step with each other as Mike began to talk excitedly about a new game he had bought.

A student walked towards them and then practically straight through Quinn. She stumbled before spinning on her foot towards the boy. Her lip curled and her eyes flashed with anger.

"Watch where you're fucking going."

"Why? Berry's not here to protect you." He lifted one hand with his fingers curled into his palm and his thumb and index finger extended in a gun shape. He jerked it upwards quickly before laughing and walking away. It felt as if an elephant was on Quinn's chest whilst it was trying desperately to expand and explode. Her pulse was in her ears and her head felt light.

Two sets of strong hands grabbed the boy by his shirt and shoved him abruptly into the lockers. Mike and Tina led Quinn away from the scene and tried to get her to breath rather than gasping sharply.

The boy let out a yelp as he was pulled from the locker and then shoved backwards again. Santana leaned in close.

"What IT class are you in?"

"W-w-w-what?" The boy stammered.

"Answer her." Finn growled.

"Miss Copley's!" They let him drop to the ground and he clambered to his feet, running as fast as they'd take him.

"Another one down." Santana removed a piece of paper from her pocket and drew a straight line through his name.

"But we're no-where closer."

"We're closer than Schue, that's for sure."

Finn agreed with her and thrust his hands into his letterman. A group of juniors walked past them and his gaze followed them threateningly. They sped up and away. Finn and Santana went in the opposite direction and entered their next lesson


Mr Schue sat atop the piano and watched as each student walked in and placed their notepad beside him. The stack grew steadily until the last one came in. Quinn was out of breath and flustered as she quickly made her way into the room. Everyone talking quietly amongst themselves until the door flew open and she rushed in. She hastily gave Mr Schue an excuse for her lateness and went to her seat to go through her bag. Mercedes pointed out the cuts across her knuckles to Sam.

"There's Rachel's as well. Be thankful that that's all there is; she wanted to do separate notebooks for genres and sub-genres." She chuckled. When she turned to go back to her seat she ignored the warm, adoring smiles from her friends.

"Well done everyone! I honestly wasn't sure you'd all succeed, but thankfully you've proven me wrong." Becky walked into the room and he handed the entire stack over. She gave him a note and then held out her hand expectantly. With a sigh and a quiet laugh he slipped a ten into her palm and she left. "Now the next phase of the lesson. Each of these song lyrics that you've written show a different side of you, a side you don't necessarily show to the rest of us. Now, to form a strong, cohesive unit; we need to know each other as well as ourselves. Becky is taking all of those notebooks and she, along with a few other students, is photocopying them for us. There will be two copies of each pad. I want you all to read each of them. Take turns, trade or read together, I don't mind."

The whole group suddenly felt nervous. They were under the impression that only Mr Schuester was to read them. Puck had put some Streisand in there, Santana had put some Michael Buble and, hell, Artie had put in some Barry Manilow. Quinn was suddenly very aware that practically her whole notebook was love songs. She considered jumping up and running from her seat. She'd grab her notebook and flee the school before burning it; making sure no-one would see that side of her. That is until she risked a glance at her peers and saw that they were as worried and scared as her. The look on their faces and how they matched hers caused her some comfort and she sat a little straighter in her seat.

The end of class swiftly approached,and Becky and a few other students traipsing into the room yanked her from her day-dreams. They gave the packs out, each person receiving two that weren't their own, and then left without a word apart from the "You're welcome" replied to every thanks given. Quinn looked down at the two in her hands. She had been graciously given Puck and Santana's, she already knew them both well enough to expect the songs that would make any other person confused. Quinn shot them both a smile and then someone caught her eye. Finn was holding one of the packs with a hesitant look on his face. He didn't know if he wanted to see what Quinn's other side was. They'd dated for some time, but she always had her walls up, what if he didn't want to see what was behind them?

Quinn swallowed and gave him a tight smile. She just didn't want to see his reaction to her entries. He wasn't so dumb as to not know who they were directed at. Mr Schue called the end of lesson and as she left he handed two more packs to her.

"Wish her well, Miss Pillsbury, Principal Figgins and I will visit on Monday afternoon to discuss her return to school."

She nodded stiffly and left. Her mind wandered to that day and when it would come and if Rachel would react the same way she had. She shivered at the thought and then decided that if she were to, then she'd be there to help her through it. Quinn passed Coach Sylvester but she was called back to the woman.

Santana slammed her locker shut and a flash of blonde in the corner of her eye made her turn. She was about to turn to call out Brittany's name until she saw Quinn's distinct features. Coach Sylvester held a rigid posture, as usual, but reached out a hand and rested it on the blonde's shoulder. She patted it and then turned away. Quinn calmly strode over to her highly confused and slightly flustered friend.

"Was that a sympathetic shoulder pat? Did you get a sympathetic shoulder pat?" Quinn just stared at her, silent. "I want a sympathetic shoulder pat! I've never seen her give anyone-"

"A sympathetic shoulder pat?"

Santana nodded, still reeling from the sight of a marginally compassionate coach rather than the steely, cold-hearted bitch that she was known to be.

"Have your enemy get shot right in front of you, nearly breakdown in the hospital, and then become best-friends with your enemy before breaking down in school. That's a sure-fire way to get a sympathetic shoulder pat. Or you could just go to Brittany; she'd give you much more for much less."

With a grin at each other they linked arms and walked the halls. After the tension the year before, they had decided to put everything behind them. It didn't hurt that Quinn had decided to appoint her as co-head cheerleader. Granted, that only meant she had to put the equipment away and formulate routines, but she had much more power and she could always force a baby cheerio to do the dirty work anyway. Brittany joined them before they slipped through the double doors and to the football field. They passed the parking lot and all stopped in their tracks to absorb the scene before them. After the day Quinn had been through, she just let it wash off of her with a sigh.

The silver of the hood of her car was tainted with red paint. A bullseye sat, spread across its entirety, with words laid out, bold on the black of her windscreen. "It should have been you." Brittany ushered her to the bleachers and Santana shot a text to Finn.


There was a soft knock and Rachel quickly threw down her pen, happy for the distraction. A hesitant Sam walked in and softly shut the door behind him. Rachel regarded him with a gentle gaze.

"It's the middle of the day, shouldn't you be in school?"

He wrung his hands.

"Coach sent me for a check-up. She wants to make sure the whole team are fit for the game next week."

Rachel nodded. "It's a derby, right?"

"Yeah, against Spencerville." He paused and looked up. "Will you be there?"

"Should be." She told him cheerily. "I get out next Wednesday, but that's not why you came, is it?" He shook his head in reply. Rachel could see him trying to formulate the words in his head and waited patiently.

"I don't want you to…take offense. I just…I just… You're a diva." Rachel raised an eyebrow. "No, I mean…you're a diva-"

"This is not helping your case."

"-and Mercedes is too!" She couldn't help but laugh at the flustered boy which only worsened his condition. "What I mean to say is; we've been together for a while. A long while, and… well, I love her. But it's her birthday soon and I want it to be special."

"So you want the advice of a fellow diva?" He nodded sheepishly.

"Well I asked Quinn but she said to ask Kurt but I knew that the moment I say anything it'll go straight to 'Cedes. She said that apart from herself, you knew her best next."

"Why didn't Quinn help?"

"She said that I should do extravagant, and whilst she is understated, you're extravagant." Rachel could only smile at the thought.

"What about performing in Glee?"

"I want to do more though."

Rachel tapped her chin and thought about her friend, about whom she was and what she liked.

"No-one in school knows, do they?" He shook his head, no. "Do you want them to know?" Sam nodded. "There we go then. There's your extravagant."

She pulled her notepad towards her and flipped the page of History notes away from her.


(A/n I'll try my darnedest to post my next update on time, but it all depends on me finding an internet connection.

Review?

Until next time, you wonderful people. Thanks for reading.)