I have the second part of the last chapter mostly written but I decided I'd break up the angst with a little fluff...although I suppose this isn't all fluff. :p

Not rated R. Spectacular.

Once again, thank you for all the kind words! Especially all of you who have written me multiple times and all of you who have told me that you read this all in one go (because that must have taken a rather substantial period of time). You guys are stupendous and I appreciate you all. :)

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Late August

"Where did you get this?" Quinn lazily traces her finger along a long jagged scar on the front of Will's right shoulder. She looks up at him – past his kiss swollen lips and to his eyes. He smiles gently at her before his eyes move to see what she's referring to.

It's been two days since they last saw Monster and a sense of calmness has settled over them. They spent both days playing with Becky like they used to – dress up and soup bottle bowling. Twenty questions and a dance party. A hand clapping tournament and charades. Becky went to bed smiling ear-to-ear both days. She was ecstatic to have the two of them playing with her at the same time again. Ecstatic to see smiles on their faces.

It's late. Will and Quinn have been laying on the couch for nearly two hours. She's snuggled with her head against his bare chest. She can still feel his hands on her back. His tongue in her mouth. They were half-way through an episode of Fashion Police when Quinn had kissed him to stop his grumbling. She thinks that secretly, the reason he didn't push her away (although judging by his gasps and heavy breathing, he was clearly into it) was because he didn't want to watch the show anymore.

Thank you, Joan Rivers.

He laughs slightly and she knows that her question has made him nervous. "It's a very old scar."

She folds her arms across his chest and balances her chin on her hands. Looks up at him to find him looking back at her. "I can tell but what is it? You said I don't know you. I want to know everything."

He snorts at her breathy tone, "I'm not the hero in some romance novel, Quinn. I'm not very interesting. You'll be disappointed."

"You are the most self-deprecating person I've ever met." She wants to kiss him again but at the look on his face, she refrains. "Don't do that. You're perfect."

"Clearly you're blind." He snorts again and she tickles his ribs for a few seconds. He giggles and his muscles tighten under her fingers until she lets up. He shoots her a glare.

She chuckles at him and then adopts a more serious tone, "I mean it. Don't do that. Why do you do that?" She resumes her initial position with her head against his chest.

"I...I'll answer your questions if you answer mine. A question for a question."

"A game."

"Indeed." And there is an edge of playfulness in his voice again. She nods against his chest, a smile on her lips.

She kisses his stomach and he inhales sharply at the feeling, "I get to go first because of that." She doesn't answer but he feels her lips pull up into a smile against his skin. He takes it as a conformation and thinks for a moment, "Would you rather be a penguin who can't swim or a bird who can't fly?"

She laughs in surprise and turns her head to look up at him, "What kind of question is that?"

He smiles because he's glad he's made her laugh. If he had asked Terri anything like that, she would have called him an idiot. "It's the kind of question you answered with a question. And now I get another."

Her eyes scrunch up in mock anger, "That's cheating!"

"Nope. The rules were a question for a question. Answer the first one." He wiggles his eyebrows at her angry expression and she laughs again.

"Fine. Um. The penguin, I guess. It would be sad to see all the other birds flying around and not being able to do it myself. Next." She kisses his stomach again and his hand goes up to her hair, stroking gently.

"I didn't actually have another thought up. um..." He trails off, thinking. "Okay. What's your favorite color?"

"Green. I like earth tones. My turn now. Answer me about the scar." Her fingers easily find the spot on his shoulder without having to look up.

He sighs, "Fine. I...my mom..." He swallows and the hand on her hair pauses before continuing again with his words, "My mom drinks a lot. I've told you that." She nods and he continues, "When I was ten, she was really bad one night and she threw a wine glass at me and it broke against my collar bone. I guess, I'm sort of boney. My dad took me to get stitches but it didn't close up neatly. Hence the scar."

She looks up at him and he's looking down at her sadly. She leans up and places a chaste kiss on the scar, "That's awful."

"She didn't know what she was doing. She never knew what she was doing." His voice is emotionless but his warm hand on her head is comforting.

"She did things like that a lot?" Her voice is cold. She wants to throttle the woman for hurting him.

"That's a question and it's my turn." He chuckles at her frustrated sigh, "What's your biggest dream in life?"

Her eyes turn up again to look at him. No one has ever asked her that. People mostly tell her what she should be doing. No one cares what she wants to be doing. She sees only deep curiosity written on his face and her heart swells. He wants to know her. "Well, I guess if I could do anything, I'd want to be a counselor. I'd want to help girls who have to live through what I lived through. There really wasn't many people to help me besides the Glee Club and some girls don't even have that. I'd like to create a support system. Maybe some sort of shelter. No girl should have to be homeless and pregnant."

He hugs her to his chest and kisses the top of her head, "That is very admirable, Quinn."

She hugs him back. They are silent for a few moments so when she breaks the quiet, he jumps slightly, "Why do you always tear yourself down?"

"I don't." His voice remains passive.

"You do. Even over silly things. You're very negative towards yourself and you blame yourself for things that aren't your fault." She traces a heart above his navel. If he realizes what pattern she's creating, he doesn't say anything.

"Um. I guess... I guess because my parents weren't very nice to me and then Terri – well, I'm not sure why she stayed with me for so long because she was always asking me what was wrong with me. I'm still not sure the answer to that." He trails off, looking away from her.

"Nothing. The answer is nothing." She hugs him tightly again. She's surprised that the terrible people in his life didn't leave him angry and jaded. They were cruel to him and yet he's sweet and funny and kind. She admires that. Her own parents left her bitter for a very long time. She's still a little bitter.

He clears his throat lightly, "If you could eat anything at this moment, what would it be?"

"Mint chocolate chip ice cream. A gallon of it." He laughs against her head and she feels her face start to burn, "Not that – I mean, I wouldn't eat that much. I'm not a pig or anything." She sucks in her stomach slightly. She doesn't want him to feel the slight swell of baby weight that is still hanging around her middle.

"Of course not."

He's made her uncomfortable – unintentionally, but she wants to return the favor, "Why was everyone calling you a man-whore last year?"

He swallows hard and laughs breathlessly. He's nervous again. Her question worked. "I...uh...it was a stupid rumor that Sue started."

"That's not the whole answer. That's cheating."

He opens his mouth to argue but stops himself, "She told Em...Ms. Pillsbury that I slept with Shelby Cochran and April Rhodes."

"Is that true?"

"That's another quest..."

She cuts him off, "You can ask me two in a row."

He wants to argue but relents, "No. It's not true. I kissed Shelby once and April slept over my house but the only person I've ever slept with is Terri. Well...until..."

He trails off and she knows that he means Monster. He slept with his ex-wife and Monster raped him. She kisses his stomach lightly to comfort him. "I think it's kind of tragic that you have this body and you've only given it to one woman. But it's romantic. I was trying to save myself..."

"Terri used to say that my torso was the only good part of me. 'It's a good thing you have those abs to make up for the lack of a brain'. She wasn't very nice. I see that now." He pauses, "We all make mistakes. Next time you...next time you give yourself to someone, it will be for love and it will be beautiful."

He kisses her head and she doesn't tell him that she hopes that the next time is with him. That if they ever get out of the basement, she wants him to give her a ring and have a small ceremony and take his last name. She doesn't want to shock him. She doesn't want to be that girl. The girl fawning over an older man. The girl with the obsessive crush The girl who falls in love too easily.

"Why does everyone call you Quinn when your name is Lucy on roll sheets?" She tenses against him and he wants to take the question back. It's obviously upset her, "I...you don't have..."

"No. It's...you shared with me." She swallows and hides her face so he can't get a look at the red on her cheeks, "My middle name is Quinn. I started going by that because...because I used to be really fat and when I lost the weight, I wanted to lose that girl too. I wanted to be someone else."

His hand goes to her chin and he tilts her head up, "You are perfect no matter what you look like."

And she feels a tear escape her eye because she knows he means it. He isn't just some boy trying to get her skirt off. He cares about her. "Thank you."

He smiles and wipes the tear away. At the look on her face, he decides to change the subject to something more lighthearted. "Would you rather own a dozen monkeys who insist on sleeping at the foot of your bed or one thirty foot alligator?"

"What the hell?" She laughs at him and he smiles wide, "Where do you come up with these things? The monkeys, I guess."

"Good choice. Good choice." He laughs and the sound goes straight to her heart. He doesn't laugh often. She doesn't either, she realizes. She's laughed more tonight than she has in months – maybe a year.

"Okay. Rapid fire." She wants to know so much, "Favorite movie?"

"Singin' in the Rain. Favorite sport?"

"Gymnastics. Favorite dinner?"

"Chocolate chip cookies..."

"That's a snack, not dinner." She giggles and he shrugs his shoulders.

"I've eaten them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner before. Cookies are the seventh food group. Favorite song?"

"Hallelujah..."

"I could have guessed that, Ms. Chastity Club."

"Ha ha." But she smiles despite herself, "Favorite band?"

"Band? U2, I guess but there are so many..."

She cuts him off, "You don't say, Mr. Glee Club."

He laughs, long and drawn out and squeezes her gently to his chest, "Favorite TV show, TV fanatic?"

"I loves me some TV." Another laugh and she joins in too, "American Idol. Simon Cowell is hilarious."

"Simon Cowell is a jerk. He's like the male Sue Sylvester."

"He couldn't pull off the track suit though." She laughs as he shudders beneath her in mock disgust, "What did you want to be when you were little?"

"Uh – a dancer, I guess. I didn't really think much about it, I don't think."

"Where did you learn to dance?" She had always wondered.

"Myself. I had a lot of time to myself as a kid." His voice is emotionless again and she turns her head to look at him.

"I'm sorry I insulted you about your dancing when I first joined Glee Club. And I'm sorry about Dakota Stanley and helping Coach Sylvester and..."

"It's okay. It's not like I was really trying to bust a move or anything. I can dance but you were right, I'm not a trained choreographer." His voice is gentle now, quiet. "That was two though. Favorite toy as a child?"

She smiles because she thought he had missed her slip, "Roller skates."

"Annnnnd favorite movie?"

"Question thief. Titanic." She swats him playfully at his disgusted look, "It's a great love story! So tragic and romantic!"

"Romantic, fine. I'm not really into tragic tales."

"Why not!? Romeo and Juliet?! Come on! That's the best play!"

"For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo!" He quotes in a mock British accent and she laughs again.

"Fine. Then what's your favorite Shakespearean play?" She expects Hamlet or maybe MacBeth. Something common place.

"Othello. But I'm more of an Oscar Wilde sort of guy."

"Or show tunes."

"Or those." He smiles, laughs at her teasing and she reciprocates. "Favorite book?"

"The Lord of the Rings or the entire Harry Potter series. But don't tell anyone that. I have a reputation to maintain."

"I shall not sully your good name by revealing that you are a nerd."

She swats him playfully. He laughs. She laughs.

"Quote Shakespeare to me." She's feeling high off of the sound of his voice. His laugh. It's mesmerizing to her. She wants him to romance her because no one ever has. He's so like Finn but so unlike him at the same time. Finn would never do this with her. He would talk about sports or school or TV. Will talks about her dreams, her future, what she likes, what she wants. He's a romantic, an artist – and she wants to learn every piece of him.

"What makes you think I can? I told you, I'm not very bright." He knows it isn't right in the back of his mind but he wants to kiss her. No one has ever taken an interest in him before. No one has ever believed in him, really. Emma came close once upon a time but thinking back on it, maybe it was just an infatuation.

If we were to rank crush worthy teachers at this school, you'd be number one with a bullet.

Maybe she never really cared about him if she was willing to give up on him so easily.

I'm seeing someone. His name is Carl.

If she was willing to believe Sue's lies and half-truths without even asking him about it.

You're a slut, Will. You're a slut, you're a slut, you're a slut. Everyone should know that.

If she was willing to throw him away for a dentist with an expensive car.

And you should know that I'm through with you.

If she was...

Quinn's hand is on his face pulling gently so their eyes can meet, "Where did you go?"

"No where." He must have spaced out. He hasn't done that in a couple of days. Not that he remembers anyway. "I'm right here with you." She leans forward and brushes her lips against his. She can see right through him.

"You told me your ex-wife thought you were stupid. Prove her wrong." She challenges with a smirk.

He blinks at her. Their eyes stay connected and he keeps his voice very low. "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools, the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle. Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

"That's depressing." She lays her head back against his chest and listens to his heart beat. His skin is hot against her own and it warms her. She's always cold and she thinks he's crazy for laying here with no shirt even though she's the one who pulled it off of him. The memory of her hands and mouth against his chest makes her abdomen tighten reflexively. She asks another question to fill the silence, "Boxers or briefs?" She tugs on his belt loops and pretends to peer inside his jeans.

He swats her hand away gently, "That's innap..." He bites his lip to stop himself from finishing the word when she glares at him, "Boxer briefs. Favorite candy?"

"Pez."

"Pez!? Gross, Quinn." He smiles this time when she glares again.

"I like the dispensers. Some of them are cute. What do you really think of Rachel Berry?"

He laughs because the question is unexpected and the mock-scandalous look on her face is adorable, "She's very driven."

"She's kind of a bitch."

"I wouldn't say that. She's..."

"You wouldn't say anything negative about anyone though."

"I would! Uh - she can be a little...abrasive." He grimaces and she knows he didn't want to say it. He does a lot of things for her that he doesn't want to do. "Cats or dogs? And this is very important because if you choose the wrong answer, I may never speak to you again." His voice is very serious but when she locks eyes with him, they're mischievous and playful.

"Dogs."

"Be still my heart!" He pulls her body fully on top of his in one fluid motion and squeezes her tightly. She laughs against his chest.

"What's so bad about cats? They're cute!"

"Careful!" He's still holding her and his voice rumbles in her ear, "My grandfather had a cat when I was a kid." He lets her go so he can show her his arm. There are several barely-there-scars along his forearm. "That stupid cat attacked me if I walked in the same room as it. Sadly everyone was always on the cat's side." She isn't sure if he's serious or not but she puts an open mouthed kiss on his heart anyway, "And Terri had a cat when I first met her. The thing was covered in fleas. Come to find out, the only thing in the world I'm allergic to is fleas. You'll never know misery until you've had hives in your ears."

"You just haven't met the right cat. You should meet Lord Tubbington..." Her throat tightens immediately with sorrow. She said it without thinking.

"Who is Lord Tubbington?" He chuckles at the name but when she doesn't answer he tilts his head so that he can see her face. His eyes scrunch together in concern when he sees her tears, "Did I say something wrong? What's the..."

"No. No, no, no. It's not that." She wipes her eyes and then buries her face in his chest to hide her pain, "He's Brittany's cat. I...she..."

He pulls her up gently so that her face is against his neck, her body draped across his. Hugs her tightly and strokes her hair. He feels his own eyes sting at the mention of the Brittany's name. He closes his eyes and tries to picture her face smiling during Glee rehearsal or Spanish class but all he can see is her dead eyes and the bullet hole marring her forehead. It was supposed to be Quinn. She was supposed to be dead on the pavement. Brittany was supposed to be here. His eyes are losing focus and his mind feels foggy. He realizes it but can't stop it.

Quinn cries for a long while. Will's hand has stopped moving on her head and she thinks that he has maybe fallen asleep. She discreetly dries her eyes and then looks up, expecting to find his closed. They aren't. He's wide-eyed and unblinking. She's seen him lose focus before but this is...different and it worries her. Her hands move up to cup his face softly and she has to call his name several times before he blinks and looks at her. "Where did you go?" She repeats her question from earlier.

"I...no where." His voice is scratchy, confused. He stares at her for a moment trying to process where he is. They were playing a game. Everything is fine. His voice is strong again when he continues. Also repeating himself, "I'm right here with you."

"Don't leave me?" She whispers it against his neck and he shivers.

"Never."

They're quiet again but this time his hand moves in a continuous pattern on her upper arm and she knows that his mind is still here. "Sing to me?"

"I..." He will. But his head feels clouded and he needs something first. Something to anchor him here. He's afraid to ask. He knows he shouldn't. She's his student and he's older and...and...and...

"Quinn...?"

"Yeah?"

"I...will you...before I sing to you, will you..."

She's never heard him quite this nervous before. She wonders if it has to do with his spacing out. "Will I...?"

"Kiss me." He breathes it into her hair. A hope whispered on a breath. And she does. It's the first time that he has initiated this sort of touching without being in distress first.

She scoots up and pulls his face gently to hers and kisses him with everything she has. It's soft and slow and full of all the love she feels for this man. They break apart when air becomes a problem and he holds their foreheads together and smiles against her lips. "I'm sorry."

She doesn't ask why. "I love you." She breathes it and her breath mixes with his between them.

"Don't." His voice is serious but the small smile remains.

"Always."

He kisses her again – their mouths molding together easily. Tongues caressing gently. He pulls back slightly, "Well I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?" He sings softly and then captures her lips again before pulling back, "Well it goes like this: The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift, the baffled king composing Hallelujah."

He kisses her again and she shivers against him. Finn and Puck have both sang to her but not like this. She pulls away this time and places her finger over his lips to keep him quiet. She takes over the song, "Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah." She kisses his neck and his eyes drift closed, "Your faith was strong but you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof. Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you." She sucks the spot beneath his ear that always makes him groan and smiles in satisfaction when he does, "She tied you to her kitchen chair. She broke your throne and she cut your hair. And from your lips she drew a Hallelujah."

He draws her back up and crashes their mouths together. Pulls back a long moment later. "Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah."

And then the song is abandoned as the kiss takes on a frenzied passion. Their mouths smack together again and again and again. Tongues battling and teeth nipping at already swollen lips. Quinn is too far gone to know better and grinds her hips down reflexively. She feels him through his jeans and shudders – he's hard for her. She made him that way. A sense of pride spreads throughout her chest even though his hands go up to her waist to still her movements.

"Well, well, well. This is an interesting turn of events."

They jump away from each other at the sound of the intruder's voice. Quinn is now sitting next to Will instead of laying on top of him.

They were distracted. Too caught up in each other to hear the creak at the top of the stairs or the footsteps on the wooden steps. There is a smile on his ugly face. He's holding a box. The gun is secure in his right hand but pointing downward.

"Relax. Mom and Dad are supposed to love each other. This is good. Mom left the first time because Dad wouldn't..." He trails off. His voice is light and Quinn wants to run away. She remembers the last time his voice sounded like that. Will's hand is clenched tightly in her own. "Actually, I don't want to play pretend right now. I want to celebrate! I was given a promotion at work and since you guys are my friends, I wanted to share the good news with you first!"

'Friends'? Seriously? Quinn wants to punch him in the balls.

Will swallows. He doesn't want to anger Monster. He doesn't want to go upstairs. He doesn't want to feel him inside of him. Doesn't want the pain or the humiliation or the crushing shame. He just wants him to go away. He manages to keep his tone even, "Congratulations."

"Thank you! Thank you!" Monster smiles wide and drops the box to the ground. "I can only stay a minute because I have to be up early to train but I brought you some gifts to celebrate and the next time I come back, I'll bring cake and we can celebrate my success together as a family!"

"Sure. Whatever...whatever you want." Will smiles uneasily. Quinn tries not to glare.

"And next time I come back, we can play a game to decide who I get to bring upstairs next! It'll be so much fun! He keeps the gun trained on Becky's sleeping form as he hugs one and then the other. Quinn's skin is crawling at the feel of his body against hers. Will feels the overwhelming urge to vomit.

He doesn't.

Monster says good-night and then is gone just as quickly as he came. Their eyes lock but they say nothing.

Will clears his throat awkwardly and moves first. Kneels next to the box to peer inside. Fresh towels, more soup (of course), toothpaste, a few loaves of bread, crackers, and surprisingly – a large plastic bag full of tacos from Taco Bell and a pizza from Pizza Hut.

Will returns to his feet. Quinn expects him to pull away now that Monster has returned. Expects him to retreat and act distant again. Instead he steps close to her and captures her lips in a tender kiss.

She pulls away first. An idea is formulating in her mind. "We're going to get out of here." She runs her fingers along his chest and to his biceps, "You're going to bulk up now that we have some solid food. You'll get as strong and healthy as you possibly can and then we wait. We're going to wait until he's not expecting it, and then we're going to attack. Eventually, he's going to let his guard down and when he does, we're going to be ready."

He nods even though he's sure that it's never going to work. He'll humor her. He kisses her again until his heart stops pounding in fear and his mind clears. "Wake up Becky." He smiles against her lips. "It's dinner time."

"You want to eat tacos and pizza in the middle of the night?"

"Yep. While it's still hot."

"Well, okay then."

They end up saving the pizza but splitting all ten tacos between them because Will says they won't keep until morning. Quinn thinks he just wants to pig out on junk food. Either way, she's fine with it. Becky is groggy at first but the prospect of a full stomach has her up and active in a few short minutes. They sit on the floor and tell each other stories and riddles while they eat. Their own little picnic in hell.

It's close to 3 am when Will nods off against the side of the couch. Becky follows soon after – her head lolling against his chest, his arm protectively around her shoulder. Quinn wishes she could take a picture. This man would have been a great father to her daughter.

It's funny how things work out.

She wakes them both and they sleepily make it to their beds. She tucks Becky back into her bed and then crawls under the covers, snuggling tightly against Will's already sleeping form.

She wants to leave their dungeon so badly. Doesn't want the fear of the unknown gnawing on her insides constantly anymore. Monster could come back at any moment and rape, torture, or kill them all.

But she doesn't want to give Will up. Doesn't want to lose him. Doesn't want to give Becky up. Wants to keep them both with her forever.

A different sort of fear invades her mind as she drifts off to sleep.