XX

.

There's a certain numbness that settles over Rachel's body as she reads Pretty Girl's words. She can practically feel them reaching out of her phone's screen, right into her chest and squeezing her heart in a vice grip.

Quinn's panic is raw and real, and Rachel knows nothing good can come of this.

Almost on instinct, Rachel dials the number, which goes straight to voicemail, and she has to resist the near-unstoppable urge to throw her phone across the room in utter frustration. This isn't supposed to be happening. It was never supposed to be like this. They're supposed to be as far away from this place when they they both come out and officially start their relationship.

Nobody is supposed to know they started as an online relationship.

Nobody is supposed to know anything.

In fact, Rachel wishes she could go back in time to when she knew nothing. There was a time when it was just Little Star and Pretty Girl, just two faceless girls searching for something bigger than and beyond themselves, and now they're here, in this mess that just doesn't seem to want to go away.

Almost two minutes later, Rachel's phone rings, and her heart jolts at the sight of the Caller ID.

It's not Quinn.

It's worse.

The person calling is Santana, and that tells Rachel all she needs to know.

Shutting her eyes tightly, she swipes right and brings the phone up to her ear. "Santana?"

"Okay, I know you don't want anything from me, and that's fine, but Quinn is freaking the fuck out and Brittany doesn't know how to handle her and we need to come up with a plan before Q does something crazy," Santana rushes out, clearly anticipating Rachel hanging up before she can say all the words. "Berry? Are you there?"

"I'm here," Rachel responds, forcing the words out. "You saw the list?"

"The whole fucking town saw the list," she says sardonically. "Quinn is working herself into a panic. Her parents keep texting and calling her about it, and she doesn't know what to do. She's - " she stops.

"She's what?"

"Berry," she says, and she sounds as if she's in pain. "If you know Quinn, and you obviously do, then you know she'll either do everything she possibly can to hide the truth by any means necessary, or she'll remove herself from the situation completely."

Rachel sucks in a breath. "What are you saying, Santana?"

Santana breathes out. "Look, she's at Brittany's house right now. She doesn't want to go home because she's just going to have to answer questions she doesn't have the answers for. I'm going to pick them both up, and then we're going to come to your house. Call Lady Hummel to meet us. We have to figure something out before - " she halts. "Just, before, okay?"

She's met with silence.

"Rachel?"

The sound of her first name from Santana's lips tells Rachel all she needs to know about how serious this suddenly is. What once started out as an innocent friendship between to random Ohio-natives has turned into something dark, and they're now dealing in matters of life and death in ways teenagers definitely shouldn't.

Rachel's heart stutters as that thought flits through her mind. Death. She recalls an almost-conversation with Pretty Girl about the possibility of her hurting herself, and Rachel suddenly feels sick. Almost involuntarily, she lets out a whimper.

"Rachel?" Santana asks again, sounding a little panicked. "Say something. Anything. I have to pick them up before Quinn does something stupid."

That jolts Rachel out of her thoughts. "Okay," she says quickly.

Santana hangs up immediately.

Rachel lets out one, long breath before she's on her phone again, dialling Kurt. He answers on the third ring, sounding somewhat groggy as if she's just woken him from a late afternoon nap.

"I need you to come to my house right now," Rachel immediately says, ignoring his greeting. "It's - it's an emergency."

"I'll be there in ten," he says without asking for more information.

"Oh, and Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"Bring Finn."

.

Almost expected, Kurt and Finn arrive first, just twelve minutes after Kurt hung up with Rachel. The boys find the brunette pacing in the basement, having been sent down by a worried-looking Hiram when they arrived. From the older man's expression, it's clear that Rachel hasn't explained the full situation to him, and Kurt considers that's best for now.

"What should we do?" Finn asks Kurt as soon as he and Kurt step off the last of the stairs and watch a panicked Rachel walk back and forth across the surprisingly large room.

"I think we wait," Kurt says to him, and then bravely steps forward to interrupt Rachel from devolving into something unassailable. "Rachel, honey," he tries. "Finn and I are here."

Rachel takes another five steps before she halts and spins to face them. "She's coming," she says, and her voice sounds like she's being strangled.

"Who's coming?" Kurt asks patiently.

"Quinn," Rachel says, just about managing to say the blonde's name out loud. "Quinn is coming here. To my house. With Brittany and Santana."

Kurt's eyes widen. "What?"

"Did you see that - that list?" she asks, almost spitting the words. "They reduced the candidates to five names, and Quinn's is on it, and she's freaking out, and I've been down here trying to figure out what to do to make it all better, but I can't think of anything. I've literally got nothing, Kurt, and I have a an entire presentation to finish and learn and practice, and I have this girl who means everything to me, who's probably thinking this is all the end of the world, and how are the two of us ever supposed to get past all of this? I don't want to - "

"Rachel," Kurt interrupts. "Honey, breathe. Just, breathe."

Rachel stares at him, helpless. "I don't know what to do," she suddenly cries, and then crumples right before their eyes. Her knees buckle, and she collapses on the carpet as she begins to sob uncontrollably.

In a flash, Kurt is on his knees beside her with his arms wrapped around her shaking frame. He doesn't tell her everything is going to be okay, because he can't be sure everything will. He can't even make assurances that Quinn will come around because, frankly, he can't be sure of that either. If this is what people have to face when coming out; he wouldn't be surprised if Quinn stays in the closet forever.

Kurt looks over his shoulder at Finn. "Maybe you should go upstairs," he says. "It's doubtful Hiram or LeRoy is going to let Santana in here without some kind of conflict. Go play peacemaker. This is about Quinn and Rachel. We can deal with all the other ugly stuff later."

Finn just nods, suddenly sure he would rather face an irate Latina than a mid-breakdown diva.

Once his stepbrother is gone, Kurt takes hold of Rachel's face and forces her to look at him. "I know you're a mess," he says, his voice patient and soothing. "I know it currently feels as if the world is coming down all around you. You're angry and heartbroken and all those other awful things that you definitely don't deserve, but Quinn is coming. She's coming here, Rachel, and I need you to pull it together. You can be mad at her later because, right now, the girl you love needs you not to be this. Okay? We have to get through this part, and then you can fall apart, okay?"

Rachel blinks once, twice, and then clears her throat. "Quinn is coming?"

"She's coming," he confirms. "Now, do you want to look like a crying mess when she gets here?"

.

When the cheerleaders do arrive, Rachel's attempts at trying not to look like she's mid-breakdown are proved useless, because Quinn looks worse than she does, if that's even possible. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and she's hugging herself tightly as Santana leads the way into the basement. Brittany has an arm around Quinn's shoulders, and the Head Cheerio looks so small; so lost.

So beautiful.

"Sit," Santana instructs the blondes, pointing at the couch as she moves towards where Rachel and Kurt are standing. She came in all charged up, but she falters at their stony expressions. "Hi," she says, awkwardly standing in front of them. "So, I know this is your house and all, and I'll definitely sit back and let you handle this, but I think I can be the only objective one here."

"Why?" Kurt asks, scoffing. "Because you don't have a soul?"

Santana flinches, and then nods. "Something like that, yeah," she says, almost off-handedly. "I can be the bad guy in this situation, and I know we can figure something out. Let me do this. Please."

Kurt looks to Rachel, and lets out a relieved sigh when the girl just nods.

Santana does the same.

"This doesn't make up for anything," Kurt feels the need to add.

Santana straightens, and then shrugs. "Didn't think it did."

.

"So, by my understanding, we have several options," Santana starts to say once everyone is seated.

They had to wait for Finn to come back downstairs, everyone to find a seat, and then only did Santana think they could get started. She's particularly nervous, by her own standards, and having all their eyes on her - knowing she's the reason they're even here - is a little daunting.

"One of which is not having Quinn come out," Brittany adds, and there's a certain severity to it that's somewhat unexpected of the normally-easy-going blonde. Even her wording sounds dangerously serious, and Santana shifts her weight uncomfortably.

She's definitely still in the doghouse with her own girlfriend.

"Definitely," Santana agrees. "Q?"

Quinn visibly bristles, a certain fire flashing in her eyes. "What?" she snaps.

Santana prefers an angry Quinn to a sullen one. She knows how to handle the former far better than the latter, and they all know there has to be a fight for any of this to be worth it. "Do you - are you - " she stops, clearing her throat. "Do you have any ideas?"

"No," Quinn says, suddenly sullen once more. "I'm sorry if I can't seem to think past the possibility of my parents finding out I'm actually gay and not planning on going to Harvard." She buries her face in her hands. "God, I don't even know which one they would deem worse, at this point."

Santana sighs at the sound of that, and then looks around. "Anyone else have pressing ideas, or can we skip to mine?" Which, if she really considers everything that's happened and still is to happen, is probably going to be what they end up doing. It's the only thing that'll make sense, and the only thing that'll work without making it exponentially worse.

She's already the villain in this story.

Finn cautiously raises his hand. "I don't have an idea, but I have a question," he says, suddenly aware that all eyes are on him. "What about the other girls on the list?"

"What about them?" Brittany asks, curious.

He frowns slightly. "I don't know. It just - do you think they're all going through some kind of panic too?"

"Probably," Kurt says, sighing. "What were they thinking?"

Finn shrugs. "I don't think they were," he says.

Kurt nods in agreement. "They had a single goal, and damn the consequences." He presses his lips together. "I suppose it's too much to ask to, I don't know, kind of pay one of the other girls to be Pretty Girl for a few days, and then have the 'relationship' fall apart?"

Santana doesn't know who the suggestion is directed at, but she responds anyway. "If possible, I think it's best to keep everything within this room."

Kurt says nothing in response.

It's Brittany who brings up the one thing they're really all thinking, but aren't brave enough to voice. "What if we do something like on that show Catfish?" she says. "Quinn can say the reason she's on the list is because she was only pretending to be Pretty Girl as part of a plot of revenge for Rachel stealing Finn."

Brittany says the words so casually, and she seems oblivious to the way three people shift in their seats, suddenly awkward, guilty and regretful.

It's when Quinn lifts her gaze to Santana's, the silent pleading in her eyes - please don't make me do this, please don't make me hurt Rachel anymore than I already have - that Santana accepts the role she's going to have to assume to make sure her best friend doesn't have to go through with this.

"No," Santana says, and all eyes dart towards her. "Not Quinn," she says. "Me."

Rachel releases a small gasp, Quinn breathes out slowly, and Santana isn't bothered with anyone else's reactions.

"It'll be easier for me to sell," Santana says. "I'm already the one who exposed it all, and I just have to mention it to one person, and it'll spread quickly and far enough to discredit the entire 'relationship.'" The moment she says the words, she has to look away from Quinn, feeling her own heart twist at the brief but deeply present flash of anguish.

Their relationship. Little Star and Pretty Girl. Reduced to nothing more than a sick prank.

"I'm sorry," Santana says. "I'm so sorry."

Nobody says anything for a good while, the silence stretching on for an uncomfortably long time, before Brittany speaks. "Quinn and I can get the rumour going around the cheerleaders, and Finn can do the footballers. It'll be all over school by the end of the day, and nobody will even worry about the list." She looks at Quinn, their faces mere inches from each other. "It'll work," she assures her. "It'll work, and everything will be okay. Your parents won't ever have to find out."

Quinn just stares at her. She knows, deep down, that this won't work. They might be able to fool the school but, now that the seed's planted in the minds of her parents; so much more makes sense about their daughter.

Quinn says none of that, though, and just about manages a smile. "Of course, B," she whispers.

Rachel sees straight through it.

So does Santana, but this is the best they have.

.

After carefully ironing out the details, Santana breathes out slowly, her eyes tracking the faces before her. They have a plan. It's an ugly, slap-dash, crude plan that rightfully portrays her as the villain, but it's plan she's convinced is going to work. It's believable for her, and for who they are to one another. It's the least Santana can do to try to make up for... all of this mess she's created.

When the silence drags on, Finn clears his throat. "Uh, LeRoy said he's ordering pizza," he says. "I should - we should go and see if it's here."

Santana nods. "That's a good idea, yeah," she says. "Britt, Kurt, let's go."

Rachel's eyes widen in panic as Kurt gets to his feet, and Quinn lets out a squeak when Brittany rises. Rachel reaches out to grab onto Kurt, but he slips out of reach.

"No," Kurt says; "you two need to talk." He looks pointedly between Quinn and Rachel. "Tomorrow isn't going to be easy for either of you, and it's important that you clear the air before the shitstorm hits."

Rachel can't even breathe properly. "Kurt, no."

He shakes his head. "Just talk," he says, suddenly exasperated. "Jesus, how difficult is it just to talk to each other? You've been doing it for months, haven't you? Forget you're Quinn and Rachel for a minute, and just be Pretty Girl and Little Star. It doesn't have to be this hard." With one last look, he turns on his heel and leaves the basement, his footsteps fading away.

Rachel sits perfectly still as the seconds tick by. She knows she has to be the one to break the silence, and she's just relieved that Quinn is still sitting here. Rachel can see her in the corner of her eye, sitting ramrod straight and her own gaze lowered.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel starts to speak. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen," she starts, her voice barely audible. "I had it all planned, Quinn, I swear. I wanted it to be special, and I didn't want you to be so blindsided by who I was, which is why I tried to get us to be friends first. I thought, maybe, if you actually liked me as a human being; it wouldn't be such a shock to you." She sighs. "But, obviously, that failed."

Quinn wrings her fingers together, unsure what to say or do.

"This is one of my ugly scenarios," Rachel quietly admits. "I've always been worried you would learn who I am and then run. I just can't stand the idea you're disappointed, and all I - "

Quinn's head snaps up. "Rachel," she squeaks. "God - what - no." She shakes her head, trying to clear it. "I'm not... disappointed."

Rachel just stares at her in disbelief. "You're... not?"

"No," Quinn says, stronger now. "How could I be disappointed when I - " she pauses, suddenly looking unsure. "How could I possibly be disappointed when I wanted it to be you?"

Rachel's breath catches, her heart stuttering. "Oh."

Quinn sighs. "I'm sorry my reaction made you feel that way," she says, and she sounds deeply sad about it. "I didn't handle myself well, I know. I'm - I'm still not handling any of this well, or at all."

Rachel shifts her body slightly, angling herself towards Quinn. "You're not disappointed?" she asks again, needing clarification because her brain can't seem to wrap around the potential truth of it.

Quinn looks amused for a moment, her eyes searching and somewhat imploring. "No, Rachel, I can assure you I'm the furthest from disappointed." She breathes out slowly. "It's actually a relief. I thought I was going crazy when I - " again, she pauses, refusing to admit it. "I'm glad it's you, is all."

Rachel nods, feeling both better and worse having this insight into Quinn's thoughts. "What happens now?"

Quinn drops her gaze. "I think we take one thing at a time," she says softly. "We can deal with... all of this other stuff, and then we can - "

"Talk?"

Quinn nods. "I'd like that, yeah."

"You would?"

"I would."

Rachel wouldn't be able to stop her smile even if she tried, and her face splits into a grin. "Do you want to go upstairs to get some pizza?"

The sides of Quinn's mouth tilt upwards. "You're assuming there's any left," she says. "Finn is a hoover. You know that."

Still, Rachel rises to her feet. She's tempted to put out her hand to help Quinn stand, but she stops herself. One step at a time.

One baby step at a time.

.

"They're alive," Kurt says with unmistakable relief when Quinn and Rachel arrive at the kitchen, both of them looking a bit more - well, they look less tense. There's obviously still awkwardness there, because they can barely look at each other, but they're standing in the same room and the world isn't imploding.

"Funny," Rachel says as she slides onto a stool next to Kurt, absently pulling out the one beside her for Quinn to sit. She doesn't even realise she's done it until the kitchen falls silent, Santana and Brittany exchanging a significant look, Finn grinning knowingly and Kurt raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"Thank you," Quinn murmurs as she slides onto the stool and reaches for two plates, carefully placing one in front of both herself and Rachel. "I'm assuming there's pizza that's not vegan, right?"

Santana quirks an eyebrow. "You are literally looking at the pepperoni on that pizza."

Quinn shakes her head. "You know as well as I do that those vegans can make anything look like meat."

"Hey!" Rachel says. "I'm one of those vegans."

Quinn looks at her, dangerously amused. "Need I remind you of that 'fake' lasagna you tried to pass off as the real thing the last time I was here," she says.

"Don't act as if you didn't like it."

Quinn just rolls her eyes, and then reaches for the 'pepperoni' pizza to retrieve a slice for herself. As a result, she misses the way Kurt gapes at her familiar interaction with Rachel, and the way Santana scoffs at it, shaking her head.

They're idiots.

Such stubborn, stupid idiots.

And, really, Santana thinks, there doesn't seem to be anything to worry about.

Well, she can only hope.

.

It's gets awkward really quickly.

While Quinn was relatively fine when she and Rachel first emerged from the basement; she seems to shrink right before there eyes as conversation goes on all around her. She barely says anything, just nibbling on her first and only slice of pizza with this dark, broken look on her face that makes them all uneasy.

Rachel keeps sneaking looks at her, and then looking at Santana for some kind of explanation, but the Latina looks equally as lost and helpless. Rachel suspects this all has to do with her parents, but it's unlikely she's going to talk about it with all of them. Pretty Girl - Quinn - has been rather vague and somewhat coy about the situation at home. She's never really spoken at length about it, and Rachel imagines it's a subject she doesn't enjoy.

All Rachel knows is that they might have made a plan to plug one gaping hole, but there are plenty still bleeding.

.

Kurt and Finn leave first, both boys sensing the tension and deciding it's wise to remove themselves from it. Finn hugs Rachel loosely, wary of Quinn's presence, and Kurt kisses her forehead, whispering words of assurance into her hair. He's not sure it'll help with anything, but it's all he's able to offer to her, right now. He gently touches Quinn's shoulder, and they all try not to notice when the girl visibly flinches.

Kurt shoots a worried look at Rachel, but she has nothing for him.

God, she has nothing left at all.

When the boys leave, the four girls remain in the kitchen, none of them saying anything for a good while.

It's Brittany who breaks the silence, her hand reaching across the breakfast nook and taking hold of Quinn's trembling fingers. "What's on your mind?" she asks her fellow blonde, and Rachel sends her a mental 'thank you.'

"I thought I had more time," Quinn whispers. "I was supposed to have more time."

"For what, Q?" Brittany asks.

Quinn lifts her eyes slightly, her eyes landing on Rachel's unassuming face. "You know, I had every intention of coming to New York with you," she says. "I had it all planned. We were going to be happy. It's all I ever wanted for us. I just want to be happy."

"Quinn," Rachel's mouth says, but no words come out.

"But, they won't let me." It's said so quietly that Rachel's not sure she even hears her. She's seen Quinn in various different forms: angry, seething, frustrated, annoyed, despondent, enlightened and even somewhat flirty, but this is the first time Rachel's seen this.

This... defeat.

This... apathy.

Rachel hates it, and it's slowly and effectively breaking her heart.

Quinn eventually shakes her head as she slips off the stool and dusts off invisible crumbs from her clothes. She straightens to her full height, her mask sliding into place until the previously-defeated facial expression is completely gone.

Rachel can't decide if this is better or worse.

"Santana, can we go, please?" Quinn says, the tone of the HBIC filling the room. "I'm going to have to face the music at some point. Why delay the inevitable?"

It sounds ominous to all their ears, and all Rachel wants to do is reach out and hold onto her with everything she has. She wants to wrap her arms around Quinn's body and anchor her to this world; to this earth. She just wants to hold her, and keep her here.

She doesn't, though.

.

Sometimes, she wishes she did.

.

GoldStarRBB: Maybe you don't want to hear it from me, but I honestly believe everything is going to fine, Quinn. I have to believe it, because it's all I can do right now. Whatever happens next is no longer in my hands... if it ever was. Sometimes, I get the feeling we were always meant to play these parts in life, and we're only given the impression we're actually in control when we're really not.

GoldStarRBB: That's the part that gets to you, isn't it? The lack of control this entire situation puts us in? That it wasn't and will no longer be under our own terms how we came to know each other's identities or how we eventually come out? For that, I'm sorry, Quinn. I am so deeply sorry my actions took that away from you. I've never wanted to be one of those people in your life, Quinn. I've never wanted to be anything like your parents or your sister to you.

GoldStarRBB: I've never wanted to hurt you. It's the last thing I wanted, and I need you to believe that. I just wanted to be able to love you the way you deserve, and I hope you'll let me, one day. I hope you'll let us love each other.

GoldStarRBB: We're going to get through this part, though. I know it. Everything is going to be okay. You'll see. It's all going to work out. I have great faith in our plan. I don't know how not to. It's part of who I am, but I suspect you already know that. Because you know me, don't you? I think I was reminded about that tonight, and I hope you were as well. This is just the part we have to get through before we can get to all those great scenarios we've been dreaming about.

GoldStarRBB: Despite the circumstances, it was nice to see you tonight. I miss talking to you. I just miss YOU. Just know I'm right here. Whenever you're ready.

GoldStarRBB: I love you. I love you so much.

GoldStarRBB: Goodnight, my pretty girl :*

.

.

.

XXI

.

Quinn isn't in school the next day, which is something that definitely doesn't sit well with Rachel.

But, everything else goes to plan.

.

It's easier than Rachel expects to act devastated when the news breaks that Santana is 'Pretty Girl,' a persona she supposedly created in order to catfish and humiliate Rachel Berry in the worst way.

Even if it's not entirely true, it's close enough to the truth that Rachel can still feel and channel the desolation she's been feeling about her forcing out and the revelation of her secret relationship with a nameless, faceless girl she happened to fall in love with.

The worst part, really, is that nobody even bats an eye when the rumour starts to spread. It's completely believable that Janice Ramsey overheard Santana apparently boasting to her fellow cheerleaders about how she has Rachel Berry convinced she's in love with a complete ghost. Apparently, Santana explained that she drew on Brittany's 'flexibility' and Quinn's general 'snark' to appeal to Rachel's desires, and it was really just 'too easy.' When asked why, all she had to say was 'Why not?' and the stage was set.

The pitying looks start after third period, and Rachel is sorely tempted to take a note out of Quinn's book and skip the day entirely. She almost snaps when Ian and Stacey catch her between classes with obvious and definitely-unwanted sympathy in their eyes. She wants to scream at them that it's all their fault. She wants to yell and shout about the fact that they didn't listen to the words she wrote in her letter.

Because she's who she is, Rachel just nods at their words, accepting their 'condolences,' and then politely walks away.

She doesn't even have to fake the crippling anger and crushing hurt that shows on her face as she goes.

.

"Hey, have you heard from Quinn at all today?"

Rachel sighs heavily as she turns to look at Kurt, resisting the urge to snap at him. It's been a trying day, and she's irritated and exhausted and she just wants to go home. "No, Kurt," she says, sighing. "Quinn hasn't contacted me today. Why? Did she say something?"

"No, she hasn't," he says, frowning. "She told me she was going to email me the revised speech, and I haven't received anything." His eyes dart to the left, looking down the hallway at all the people who can't stop looking at Rachel with... pity. He doesn't know if these looks are better or worse than what she was experiencing last week. He's sure she just wants them to stop looking at her at all.

Still, he knows she would rather have them looking at her than at Quinn.

Kurt clears his throat. "It's... unlike her."

Rachel can hear something very particular in his tone of voice that forces her to turn her body to face him fully. "You're worried, aren't you?"

"Aren't you?" he immediately asks, and then instantly regrets it. "I'm sorry. Of course, you're worried." He sighs, nibbling at his bottom lip. "Whatever drama's been going on, she's always come through when it comes to her Academics," he says. "It's not like her not to follow through on something like this."

Rachel's done her best not to focus too much on Quinn's absence. It's somewhat easier to deal with the rest of the student body without having to face Quinn today, but Kurt's right when he claims she's been stressing over it.

Why isn't she here?

She's supposed to be here.

Kurt meets her gaze. "I talked to Brittany earlier, and she says she hasn't heard from Quinn since she and Santana dropped her off last night."

Rachel hears the words he's saying, but she registers something else entirely. It's what Kurt is not saying that turns her blood cold and makes her breath catch. "Do you think - " she starts to ask, and then stops, unsure what she's actually going to say.

"Do I think what?" he questions.

"I don't even know," she says, sighing. "I don't know anything anymore, Kurt."

Humming in sympathy, he draws her into a hug, which she willingly accepts.

"It's never going to end, is it?" she asks, mumbling into his shirt.

"It will," he says. "It's just taking a little longer." His hand rubs slow circles on her back, and at least they can 'explain' this sort of comfort he's giving her in the school corridor during their lunch hour.

She needs the comfort, and he's all too willing to give it to her. She's his best friend, and he knows she would be moving heaven and earth for him if the roles were reversed.

"Do you want to get a dessert burrito?" he asks.

Rachel lets out an unexpected laugh, pulling back to look at him. "If I ate my feelings, I would be six hundred pounds by now."

He shrugs, looking unconvinced. "You're much too vain for something like that, and you know it."

Before she can respond, she spies Santana and Brittany walking down the corridor, towards them. Santana's face is blank, and Brittany looks as if she's been crying.

Rachel's mind immediately takes itself to a place it should never go, and she actually stops breathing.

No.

No, no, no.

Kurt feels her tense up and, from the look on her face, he can practically sense the news that's coming.

"What happened?" Rachel finds herself asking as soon as Brittany and Santana are within hearing distance. She doesn't even care that she's supposed to hate Santana with every fibre of her being. Right now, Santana holds news that Rachel needs. "Tell me what happened."

"I got a call from my dad," Santana says soberly. "He told me Quinn called him earlier, asking him to meet her at her house after her parents left. He said she's - she was - " she stops, her mind spinning with all she's been told in the last ten minutes. "Quinn needed my dad. He's - he's a doctor."

It's Kurt who reacts first, his eyes widening. "What? Why? What happened?"

"I think they found out," Santana says, and she sounds like a small child. She's trembling, her eyes pooling with tears. "I think he found out, and he did something, and they want it all to stay hidden behind closed doors, and I - God - I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Rachel. I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. I never meant - " her voice catches, and she looks away, trying to compose herself.

Rachel's sure her heart is beating. It must be, because she's still standing, and you have to be alive for that, right? She has absolutely no idea what to say or do in this moment, and she doesn't think her brain is actually working.

Quinn.

Her Pretty Girl.

She needed a doctor.

Because - because -

Rachel nearly jumps a foot in the air when her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she immediately reaches for it. She doesn't know how or why she knows it, but she's certain it's Quinn.

She's not wrong.

.

Pretty Girl: They know, Rachel.

Pretty Girl: They hired someone to go looking through my laptop while I was out yesterday, and they know. They know about me, and they know about you. They know who you are, and who we are to each other.

Pretty Girl: I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.