Chapter XIII

Rachel curled up on her palette, trying to keep warm, her hands tucked beneath each other arm. At some time, the rain had started up again, but was dying down once more, the occasional tap against the window coming with a sparse burst of wind. It was so cold with no heat working, no power for that matter. She couldn't sleep, even though that was what she had laid down to do. Her eyes just wouldn't stay shut. She changed after Quinn had found some food, actually putting on her jeans that she found and a thicker shirt. She even put the boots on, finding they were warmer than her other shoes. Still, it was futile against the chill.

The tension between the two girls wasn't easing either. It remained through the hours. Rachel's distracted behavior to Quinn's hardly exposed breasts was questionable. Rachel knew it was. It was also confusing. Didn't she love Finn? Weren't they technically still together even if they hadn't seen each other in the near three weeks? What if he was dead or turned… was she off the hook?

The brunette scrunched her eyes at that last thought. It was disgusting and selfish to so much as entertain that notion. She didn't think like this. She mentally kicked herself, wondering what even provoked her to word a thought like that.

Your attraction to Quinn— that's what.

Rachel physically jumped up. It honestly sounded like someone had just said aloud what she was thinking. She even got onto her knees to look meekly over the desk at Quinn sifting through the cabinets of the room, to see if she had said anything. When there was no change to the motions of the room, Rachel quietly laid back down, folding in on herself once more.

But was that true?

Come on, Rachel. Let's just think this through… Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath, reverting to what she often did back on those lonely nights in her room when she just couldn't go to sleep and she had to work through what was keeping her awake.

You have dated Finn for a while now. On and off since sophomore year. Technically, you are graduated now, even if the graduation has not occurred yet… or will ever. Oh stop that. You'll make it through this. Quinn said you would… Quinn. So, to review. Sophomore year. You and Quinn have had a sketchy relationship. She did not like you much, or at all. She even said so herself. She became pregnant, victim to Noah's antics no less, and you tried to reach out to her on several occasions wanting to prove you were there for her even if she didn't want you to be. So, yes, I have always wanted to be her friend. She has been everything I have ever wanted to be… besides my goal to live up to Barbra Streisand— pretty, popular, smart, confident… but now that I'm thinking… I never tried as hard to be friends with Santana or Brittany, and they're both pretty, popular, confident and smart in their own ways… was I just oblivious to the fact I've always been attracted to her since then… No! It wasn't about Quinn! It was about Finn! It always has been. I'm not really attracted to Quinn… well, I wasn't then. Am I now? Oh, you're just going in circles! But you are attracted to her now. Am I really? Or am I attracted to the way she protects you like Finn? Oh, Rachel, you are an idiot. You have to face reality… Finn would have no idea what he would be doing, you know how he works. He wouldn't think of you if he doesn't even know how to think for himself. He wouldn't protect me like Quinn is doing. Quinn is protecting me and nothing like Finn would. So am I just attracted to her for protecting me? … You are talking to yourself, you don't need to lie. That's denial and it is not healthy, especially at a time like this. You are attracted to Quinn… on some level. It may not be really an attraction. You just appreciate her body. She keeps it toned and strong. She takes care of it. And all this action these past weeks are keeping her in her prime. You appreciate a good body. It is just all this time you have spent with her. You rely on her and you trust her and she is a good friend. She even believes you two are friends, too. Friends are not attracted to other friends… so do I want to be just friends then? … Oh God, just stop. Just stop thinking.

"Rachel?"

Realizing she had begun to doze off to the own madness inside her head, she jerked awake, her fingers digging into her ribs. She was still cold. Quinn stood between the two palettes, her jean jacket hooked on a finger and hanging over her shoulder as she looked down at the motionless singer. Her eyes were dark gold in the gloom. She had a questioning expression on her features.

"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel replied sleepily but politely.

"Are you going to sleep?" the punk asked, swinging her jacket around, holding it by the collar.

"I am trying to, yes," Rachel strained. The air was so thick with broken communication. She stared at the jacket, wanting to take it but wanting to hear Quinn say something first.

"It's cold. Take my jacket." Quinn dropped the jacket over Rachel's shoulder, just like she wanted. Immediately, there was a rush of Quinn's familiar smell and Rachel closed her eyes to enjoy it. She opened them quickly when she realized that was sort of inappropriate as well, and she looked up at the looming girl.

"Are you not going to sleep?"

Pink hair swished as she shook her head. "No. I'm going through the office. Seeing what I can find. It's interesting." She shrugged. "It gives me something to do and a chance to think."

"Really? About what?" Rachel couldn't help herself. Part of her wanted Quinn to say that she was thinking about what she was thinking about, too, but that was highly unlikely. No one would just blatantly spit out what was on their mind if it held that sort of weight to it. At least, Rachel thought their strange encounter had weight to it. It could just be her. And then again, Quinn was a closed book. She was hard to read and she wasn't the type to just flip open her cover for Rachel to read.

Quinn looked to the window for a moment before to another distracting direction. "What to do next."

"Oh," Rachel sighed. Stupidstupidstupid.

"Get some sleep. I'll try to later."

With that, Quinn disappeared around the desk, leaving Rachel alone on the palette with the jean jacket providing some level of warmth. A few moments later, the sounds of her going through the filing cabinets could be heard again, papers shifting and folders being flicked open. Earlier, Rachel even thought she heard a lock being broken open, so she knew what to expect the next time there was a harsh crashing.

Closing her eyes, Rachel opted to black out everything. Thinking only lead to circles, where even when she told herself to not fall into denial, she did anyways. Behind her façade, she was screaming at herself for being so stupid, for not realizing sooner…

It must have been a couple hours later when Rachel awoke. She awoke because Quinn was settling behind her, her back to the desk as she lay on her side. She tried to keep her breathing, feigning sleep just so she could sense the girl behind her. A click echoed in the silent room for the safety being turned on, and then a dull clatter as Quinn set the gun on the overturned bookcase above her head. Rachel hoped her heart didn't give her away when it jumped. Quinn was lying down behind her, her body close. She felt the back of the jacket lift and an unwelcomed brush of cool air before the former cheerleader's body was against the singer's back, blocking out the cold again. Her hands didn't quite touch her shirt, just her knuckles brushing slightly when she breathed, Rachel guessing they were fisted up against Quinn's chest. She wanted those arms to wrap her up like Quinn would sometimes do, just knowing she felt safe in them and the fact that it would probably keep them both much warmer. She kept away the thought that also having those arms around her made her chest fuzzy in a way that would bring a dopey smile to her face.

A few minutes passed with no real activity. Quinn had to be uncomfortable, so tense that Rachel could sense it coming off her body in waves. She didn't touch any part of her body to any part of Rachel's body, keeping careful distance. It had something to do with the fact of Rachel letting her hand trail Quinn's chest experimentally. She hadn't meant to but now she made things awkward between them when she least wanted them to. Deciding she couldn't just go back to sleep with a being behind her all rigid and within reach, she let out a low moan, the kind one forces out as they stretch. In doing so, she herself tightened up like she was trying to get blood flowing back into her extremities, and shifted her body. Her back arched, her lower back pressing into Quinn's abdomen. She shivered lightly for extra measure. It worked, and she kept from smiling as Quinn's arm slowly, like she was afraid to wake the girl, wound around her waist, fingers slipping beneath her waist and the palette for leverage. The pull was gentle and it brought their bodies even closer as Quinn moved her chest to press against Rachel's back. Their bodies were flush together then, the heat accumulating between them gratefully.

Rachel was comfortable and ready to doze off, when she registered the first warm breath from Quinn across the back of her neck. It wafted through her hair, warming, and caressed her skin. It was gentle, just as Quinn was with Rachel when the circumstances were right. It was a total Quinn's breath. Rachel smiled slightly as the breathing became regular against her neck, and it didn't take long to fall asleep to the lull of it and the chest rising behind her, in time with her own breathing.

Surprisingly, Rachel was the first to awake. As she opened her eyes, she realized she hadn't woken up this morning, screaming Quinn's name, although she could feel the name stagnant on the back of her throat. It must have been the fact that the other girl was so close behind her, the closest they have ever slept together, that stopped her. Carefully and cautiously so that she wouldn't wake the punk, Rachel rolled onto her back beneath the arm that was still draped over her waist so that she could properly see Quinn. It was the first time she has seen that face peaceful and completely clear of any raw emotion. Her brows were straight, no creases furrowing them. Her full mouth was softened, no hard downturn to them. Her aristocratic nose held a smudge of blood over the bridge, looking something like war paint that she put there herself rather than against her will. Despite her better judgment, Rachel raised a finger and gingerly wiped at it.

Quinn's eyes opened. It was so sudden, Rachel didn't process it for a few seconds. In those few seconds, she saw the true hazel tone. The dark green ring outlying the darker tawny color circling the black pupil. She never noticed the dark brown specks in them either, like little tarnished gold flecks that added to the true beauty of her eyes.

"This is a nicer wakeup than usual," Quinn quipped, breaking the moment of silence between them.

Rachel chuckled once in the back of her throat. "What do you mean?" Her voice carried the lightness she felt in the fact that Quinn wasn't automatically pushing her away or that there was no weird air that hung around them. It seemed to have been forgotten in the haze of their sleep.

Twisting her back so that her legs remained along Rachel's form but she was facing the ceiling, she yawned, stretching. She rubbed one eye before propping herself up on her elbow, turned toward Rachel. She set her head temple in the palm of her hand, a smirk on her features. "Usually, you wake up screaming or calling for me and I wake up in a panic."

Rachel averted her eyes, blushing slightly. That was true.

"Hungry?" Quinn offered, sitting up the rest of the way. The jacket slipped off her legs as she stood, the brunette left to miss the warmth of their positions and then with the fact that she was starving and was starting to ache being on the ground so long. She stood up to join Quinn at the desk, who had seated herself there.

Accepting a muffin and another bottle of water, she cracked open the container and popped open the plastic, taking a drink before biting deep into blueberry and glaze. It filled her mouth immediately, her eyes closing momentarily like she wanted to capture the moment of deliciousness before she started devouring her breakfast.

"So what's on the schedule for today?" Rachel looked over her shoulder as she spoke, looking out the window. She was surprised to see the clouds finally rolling out, a sunrise appearing and providing a sense of time, that they weren't lost in some space continuum.

"We get out of here," Quinn answered simply, tossing rotten items to the floor while picking at her own breakfast. "There's nothing and no one here for us anymore. But I want to check the Cheerio's locker rooms before we leave."

"Why?"

"There might be something Santana or Brittany left there."

Her jaw clamped shut, Rachel having to force it to start chewing again even though the shock still riddled her. She hadn't thought of something like that. "Again… why?"

"It would seem like something Santana would do," Quinn shrugged, biting her slab of beef jerky. Rachel rolled her eyes— some breakfast. Quinn finished the pack, stood up, ruffled her matted pink hair, and then pulled out her white bandana from a cargo pocket. She folded it and tied it up in her hair, like she was prepared to leave in that simple motion. They hadn't brought anything inside with them, but they didn't think they were going to stay long after that first day. "And it would be nice to maybe see them again. After that, we get the hell out of this school and back into the car. Maybe we can make it out of Lima. Or get a better car?"

Rachel swallowed the last of her blueberry muffin and nodded, wondering what she meant "maybe see them again." It seemed highly unlikely there was anything to find but… it really just seemed like Quinn wanted to say goodbye to the best aspect of her high school career— being a Cheerio. They already had their round at the choir room, so it was the least Rachel could do and understand. Brushing off her hands, she stood from her lean against the desk.

The two ex-students packed up their belongings, finding a hiking backpack that Mr. Schuester had already begun to use stashed beneath his desk. They obtained all that they could from the room, including ammo, the rifle, the shotgun, and a small pistol while keeping from encumbering themselves. They had to be practical about these things. Quinn unlocked the door, scoped the hallway— the dusky light from the morning lighting up the scene since the rainstorm— and stepped out. They didn't bother locking the door and instead set the key on a ledge of one of the windows, Rachel building up a sort of shrine around it to attract attention. Maybe someone else could have use of this room in the future. It was like a safe room after all and it certainly served its purpose for the girls.

The two traveled through the school with no interruptions, not to say they weren't being careful. It was like the same place, hallway after wrecked hallway. A broken light fixture buzzed with the last of any residing energy and they passed on by. Everything was becoming numbing to the senses, creating an insensitivity. They made it to the locker rooms on the near opposite side of the school and entered the tiled walls, ignoring the smeared blood hand prints and the crackle of paper plastered to the floor. Quinn armed herself with the M9, the spaces becoming much more confining and leaving no room for mistake. But even from behind, Rachel could tell this was taking a toll on Quinn, passing through the rooms that really consisted of her high school years, even if she hadn't been a Cheerio for a while. To find it also one of the places of retreat and death was sickening, just as was the broken piano. Neither of them liked to think of their respective locations being ruined by this apocalypse. Still, she strode through the benches like it wasn't affecting her, and approached the lockers that she pointed out in a whisper had belonged to the one and only Unholy Trinity.

Using the butt of her gun, she broke the weak lock from the handle. She opened her own first. It was nearly empty, a few things remaining that she didn't seem to remove even though she hadn't come back in her since the year began. It really had been a while. The other two cheerleaders kept the locker for themselves, not allowing another Cheerio to make use of it. It was always going to be Quinn's locker. As it was, the rebel picked up a picture from the bottom of the locker, right before her. It was of the three incredible and talented athletes out on the field in their uniforms that shouted pride for William McKinley in red and white. It was strange for Rachel to see Quinn in her former glory compared to her darker infamy now, complete with her blonde hair and missing her nose ring. However, Quinn didn't take long to ponder over the picture, perhaps because it hurt to stare at it too long, and instead opted to fold it up enough for her to slip into her pockets. She closed her otherwise useless locker and then turned to Brittany's. There were a couple water bottles they put in the backpack, some hair and cosmetics products, and a picture of the light blonde and Santana as a couple. Where Rachel found it equally as useless, Quinn took that picture, too. She folded it up and placed it in the same pocket. Now it made sense when she said "it would be nice to see them again."

At the final locker, Quinn broke off the lock, the metal clanging as it hit the floor. The door swung open and the rebel froze, her eyes wide, her mouth parted in an inaudible gasp.

"Holy shit," she breathed, astounded.

Rachel craned to look inside. There, lying on top of a note, was another gun similar to Quinn's Beretta M9— a Beretta 92 from the etching on the handle. Quinn looked around as though she were afraid of being caught, or as if the very girl was in the room with them, and then grabbed the gun, checking the safety and sticking it in her waistband. She grabbed the note. She still looked shocked at her discovery, unable to comprehend her discovery.

"Let's go. You're driving. Is there a map in the car?"

Rachel was still trying to mentally catch up and stuttered, "I think so." Santana has really left them something?

Backtracking through the school, Rachel had to keep a fast-paced jog with the fleeting girl in front of her. The sounds of their boots hitting the floor with each rapid footfall followed them through the dilapidated hallways before the punk broke through the unchained door from whence they came. A quick scan proved the coast was clear for the meantime, and with note clutched in hand, she bolted for the car, jumping into the passenger side. The little brunette was quick to car as well, falling behind the steering wheel and catching the keys that were tossed shakily, igniting the engine. She pulled out of the space and put the high school in the rear view mirror, driving much safer than Quinn had but with the same urgency to continue moving, for fear of followers. All the while, she spared glances at her companion, curiosity on overdrive.

"So what did Santana say?"

Revised!