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Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
I.
Teenagers are the lowest of the low, practically on the same level as the scum that accumulates on top of greenish mucky liquid, and teenage boys- they were like the collection and formation of eukaryotic organisms. Fungus. The infestation that fed on pond scum.
Rachel loathed the hoodlums that permeated the halls of William McKinley High school.
While the rest of the school was buzzing with excitement - everyone had hope that this was the year the football team would finally end its humiliatingly lengthy loosing streak; people came dressed in school colors and insignias, donning red or white T-shirts and hoodies with Titans embossed on them - Rachel was inside one of the abandoned bathrooms on the second floor, trying to get all the left over foam off of her clothes. All the football players were clad in their numbered game jerseys, and Rachel had painted black stripes under each of her eye to commemorate the day of her first ever game.
She had been so excited about the game and finally having the chance to prove herself that she left her guard down. During her third period chemistry class, some of her hilarious -for the love of Barbra, note the sarcasm- hockey playing, mullet headed classmates thought it would be just so damn funny to put an absurd amount of reactors to her chemical mixture whilst she was distractedly imagining her game winning touchdown, and Quinn giving her a congratulatory kiss-
-with tongue...
It was one hell of a daydream.
Now, here she was- wearing a pair of Sam's Avengers boxers that the boy had found within the mountains of questionable things that invaded every corner of his locker. Don't get her wrong, she loved the superhero team as much as any other Marvel enthusiast, but god, can't she ever get a break? Shoving her ruined khakis in her Patti Lupone backpack, she trudged out of the bathroom and headed to her best friend's locker.
Sam had beamed goofily when he caught sight of her. "Lookin' good, bro." He stated with an appreciative look.
Rachel stood beside her best friend at his locker as students strolled pass them giving Rachel brief baffled looks, before sniggering away with their equally bemused companions.
"Are your dads coming to the game tonight?" Sam frowned as he haphazardly shoved various items at his overflowing locker. He grinned joyously when he caught a glimpse of his Captain Kirk action figure within the pile- he thought he'd lost that!
Rachel stared into Sam's locker, absolutely appalled. She briefly contemplated if she had the time to arranged the boy's locker before her next class. Her brand new label maker was just begging to be used after all.
She looked away from the mess, puffing out a breath. "Unfortunately, daddy's on a business trip and dad couldn't get out of hospital duty," she muttered dejectedly. The girl loved her fathers dearly, and she'd be forever grateful for providing her such a great life, but it was just...lonely, sometimes.
Sam gave her an understanding smile. "Sorry, bro." He held up a zip-lock bag with a -oh Barbra, was that a molding sandwich?- then chucked it back into the blackhole he called a locker, as Rachel swallowed back the bile that rose up to her throat. "But hey! At least you still have me and the kids comin'."
At the mention of her other favorite blondes, she perked up. "And how is Stacy doing?" Rachel asked in concern. The little girl had been feeling under the weather for the past few days. "Is her stomach feeling any better?"
Sam shook his head wearily. "You know Stacy, she doesn't like that kind of attention on her, so it's pointless to ask. All she does is shrug," the boys grumbled with worry. "Her fever hasn't gone down yet."
Rachel frowned at the response. "Perhaps it'd be best if she didn't attend the game, Sam. She should just stay home and rest."
"I keep telling her that there's gonna be other games, but she won't listen." He stated with a mirth filled eye-roll. "I swear that kid loves you more than she loves me."
The half back grins widely. "I am rather lovable, Sam." She affirmed with a head nod. "As I've been informed on numerous occasions."
He snickers, giving her a punch on the shoulder. "Anyways... it's better if she comes, get some fresh air, you know? Besides, my parents are-" he hesitated for a moment, "uh, working...tonight, so there's no one to watch her."
Rachel nodded thoughtfully at the reply, making a mental reminder to give the little girl a very thorough examination after the game. She had picked up a thing or two about health and medicine, due to her dad's obsessive need to share gruesome hospital tales over shared takeout- coupled with her own overwhelmingly curious nature, she was practically a teenage girl version of Gregory House, minus the pill popping and overall unpleasantness.
"Maybe after I lead the team to victory," she began half jokingly, "we can all get ice cream, then play some Zelda at your house?"
Sam visibly began to look uncomfortable. "That- that sounds good," he said with a nervous timbre to his voice. "But maybe we- maybe we should like, go to your place instead...you, uh- you have a bigger TV." The boy refused to meet her confused gaze.
"Are you okay, Sam?" Frowning at the boy's strange behavior, Rachel tugged the boxers higher up on her hips.
He nodded frenziedly. "Yeah, just-"
"I don't mean to a bitch-," Rachel froze at the voice, staring back wide eyed at an equally alarmed Sam, "-wait, actually, I do. Listen, wearing ridiculous clothes won't distract anyone from your unsightly mustache, Hobbit."
The two teens glance at each other gloomily, before turning to face the devil's incarnate. Santana stood before them with that ever present haughty expression on her -admittedly gorgeous- face.
Standing beside her was a beaming Brittany, who waved blissfully at Rachel. "I think your boxers are cool," the blonde cheerio declared with a disapproving glance at her brunette companion. "San has a pair just like them at home." She revealed, much to the latina's shame.
"Santana Lopez is a fan of the Avengers?" Sam asked with a shit eating grin. It fell away instantly when Santana stabbed him repeatedly with her eye daggers.
Rachel subtly stepped in between them, fearing for her best-friend's well being. It was rumored that the girl kept razors in her hair, and while Rachel was never one to judge someone based on possibly false information- it was Santana Lopez, for god's sake! She once set Rachel's pink scooter on fire in the third grade because, 'she gave her the stink-eye', which- what is that even?
"Please stop imagining yourself bludgeoning my friend to the death," she was reluctant to continue. "And just... do or say what you came here for."
With a bright eyed grin, Brittany bounded forward and pounced on the unsuspecting halfback. "Good luck, Rachel," the blonde said, squeezing the air out of her. "From me and San," she whispered into the flustered footballer's ear. "And Q," Brittany added with a wink as she pulled away.
Santana grabbed her girl -gently- away from Yentl and Frog lips, before giving them another disgusted once over. "Hope you don't die, or whatever," she snarled with an accompanied eye roll.
And with that, the two cheerleaders linked pinkies and strutted away from a traumatized Sam and a pleasantly shocked Rachel.
Rachel beamed as she replayed the scenario that had just happened in her head.
"Told you I was lovable!"
II.
It was about a few hours before the game when Sam called her.
She had been sitting by herself on the bleachers, uniform on and ready, watching her teammates throw passes at each other. Finn kept shooting her hopeful half smiles as he practiced tackles with Puck.
Her phone rang just as Puck deemed it appropriate to prance around shirtless, trying to impress some of the girls on the stands who were fawning over her bastard teammates. Grabbing her iPhone from her gym bag, she placed it on her ear and immediately frowned when she was met with her best friend's frantic babbling.
"Hey, hey- what's wrong?" She asked, trying to make out the boy's unintelligible stuttering. "Take a deep breath, bro." Rachel got up in agitation, and began nervously pacing up and down the bleachers.
She listened as the boy on the other line inhaled and exhaled heavily.
Her heart lurched when she heard the tremble in Sam's voice. "Rach, you gotta come help. It's Stacy...fuck- she's been throwing up since I got home and she's crying- I know the game's about to start but my parents aren't here and I think their phones are off- Jesus Christ, I need you here, bro. I'm probably just being a fucking spaz right now, but I'm really scared... I don't know what to do-"
"-I'll be right there, Sam," Rachel promised, already shouldering her bag and making her way down the stands. "Give Stacy a hug for me?"
There was a pause of silence, before someone spoke. "Rachel?"
She blinked back tears when she heard Stacy's lethargic and slurred speech. "Hey, beautiful. You stay strong for me, alright? I'll be right there to check up on you."
"Sorry I can't come to your game," the little girl mumbled tiredly, breaking Rachel's heart in the process. "My tummy doesn't feel good." Even over the phone, she could hear Sam's heavy breathing, knowing the boy was struggling not to cry.
"Hey-" Rachel began in a reassuring tone, "-you're going to be fine, sweetie. And I fully expect to have you there at my next game, okay?"
Stacy moaned incoherently, then a light shuffling noise could be heard. "I'll text you the address," Sam said as he clutched the phone tightly in his hand, struggling to keep composure.
"I remember where you live, Sam." Rachel hurriedly exited the football field and sprinted her way to the parking lot.
"We moved," Came his whispered reply.
Throwing her bag haphazardly in the passenger seat of her car, Rachel shoved the key into the ignition and nodded distractedly at the boy's response. "Right, yeah, okay," she mumbled, putting him on speaker phone, pressing the home button, and opening up her texting app. She quickly sent Finn a text to inform him of the situation, hoping that the boy would talk to their coach on her behalf.
"I'm on my way."
:::.
:::.
Sam avoided her gaze as she looked at him threw the rear-view mirror as they made their way to the hospital. Eye contact between them has been minimal since she knocked on the door of the seedy motel room he directed her at. He had given her a brief explanation, before their attentions returned to the whimpering girl laying on a beaten up futon on the floor.
They drove in morose silence with Stevie staring despondently at his ill sister, a far cry from his usually over exuberant personality. Sam had his arm around the crying girl, rubbing her arm in a vain attempt to comfort her. The three blondes sat huddled together on the back as Rachel continued to break numerous speeding laws.
Quickly pulling up at the hospital parking lot, she haphazardly parked her car, not caring if she was technically not supposed to park with one wheel over the curb. Rachel opened the backseat door and carried out a sniffling Stevie as they followed a distressed Sam as the boy made his way inside the hospital with Stacy cradled in his arms. They rushed up to the nurses station and Rachel demanded immediate medical attention, threatening a lawsuit if her request went ignored.
She probably looked slightly deranged right now, decked out in full football gear, looking like she was about to kill someone if they didn't make Stacy better. When help arrived, Sam was reluctant to let go of his baby sister, but Rachel reassured him that the doctors were going to make sure that Stacy was going to get the best treatment possible and make her stop hurting, all the while glaring dangerously at the medical professional.
:::.
:::.
And now, they wait.
:::.
::::.
Rachel couldn't pinpoint the precise moment that Sam, Stacy, and Stevie became her brothers from another mother. She felt that she had found allies from the minute she met them. She walked into the Evans house that day after school - she and Sam found that they bonded over shared love of people who can flew around wearing tights - and there was this perfect blonde family sitting around together, playing Nintendo and actually laughing. The kids glanced up at her in the wide eyed, innocently sweet way they look at everyone, and invited her to play video games with them.
Mr. and Mrs. Evans invited her over for dinner - that was the first time anyone's done that - and they hardly batted an eye when she mentioned fathers when asked if her parents minded her being out so late.
She went from having just her fathers, to having a whole other family there for her. So she had a friend, someone who would be there for her when she needed him. Someone who would listen to her babble about Quinn and Broadway and Manga, and who would comfort her with his ridiculous jabber about aliens and 'hot chicks' when she just needed to drown in something good after another miserable day at school.
"How long have you guys been living in a motel room?" From her peripheral vision, she could see Sam flush.
"Not that long, a few days." He muttered with a small shrug. "My parent's are working on it though, they're looking for a new place for us. My dad got a job part time as a dishwasher at some restaurant a little bit far from here. It was the only job he could find."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Rachel said quietly, cradling an alert but silent Stevie in arms. The little boy was being distracted by playing games on her iPhone.
From beside her, Sam rubbed at his face dejectedly. "I just- didn't wanna seem like a bigger loser than I already am."
"You're not a loser, Sammie!" Stevie objected with a firm pout from Rachel's lap. "You're the bestest Pokemon trainer I know!"
Rachel gave the boy a quick peck on the cheek, lips quirking in amusement when the boy whined and wiped it off dramatically. She turned to Sam with a serious expression. "You guys are my family, Sam. You know you don't have to be embarrassed. I'm never going to judge you." With a sheepish grin, she added, "You never judge me about Quinn."
"That's cause you're never supposed to talk bad about someone who has mental issues," Sam deadpanned. Stevie giggle when she let out a dramatic gasp.
"Huh," she huffed playfully, bouncing the happy boy, "I see how it is, you guys use me for my car, then turn against me the minute you no longer need my services."
She smiled dopely when her best friend grinned. The boy opened his mouth to respond, but before he could- a doctor approached them with a pleasant expression on his face. Sam immediately stood up. "Is she okay? What's wrong with her?"
"Your sister is going to be just fine." The two teens let out relieved sighs and Stevie smiled brightly at the doctor. "Appendicitis. Luckily, you got her here just in time." Rachel sat up straighter- hell yeah they got her there in time! She only broke just about a hundred traffic laws. "Right now, she's asleep, but you can come see her if you'd like."
After giving them Stacy's room number, the doctor left them alone once again.
Bing!
Her phone signaled a new text message, which was weird because the only person who texted her was Sam and her fathers - who liked to think that they were 'in with the youth', much to her utter dismay - Stevie handed her the phone and her eyes bugged out as she read the text.
'Unless you're in an alley somewhere, drowning in a puddle of your own blood after being repeatedly stabbed for being annoying, you best be getting your midget ass over here, we'z be loosin' the game!'
"I think Santana just texted me," she mumbled, still staring at her phone in shock as Sam peered over her shoulder.
Sam nodded in thought. "The overuse of violence and ghetto talk kinda gave her away." Their attention went back to the phone as it sounded again, alerting that she's received another text.
'This be Lopez btw. Got your # outta that kid in the wheelchair after I tipped him over.'
"I think you should go," Sam stated with an encouraging smile.
Rachel shook her head. "Absolutely no-"
"Dude, the team needs you," he said with a proud expression. "Bro, you heard the doc- Stacy's gonna be fine now. Go."
"But-"
Stevie tugged at her uniform. "I wanna come with you," he pleaded, shooting her and Sam hopeful looks. "Can I go with her, Sammie? Please?"
"It's fine with me, bro." Sam grinned when his little brother tackled him in a giant hug.
"Rach, I wanna watch you win the game so I can tell Stacy how awesome you were when she wakes up." God, who could say no to those puppy dog eyes? With another nod from Sam and a pout from Stevie, she set the boy down on the floor and got up with determination.
"Let's go."
III.
They were loosing by five points.
Staring out into the field, Rachel watched as Finn cut the football into the air - perfectly - only to wince as Puck was tackled to the ground - by the most fucking most terrifyingly large mammoths - the minute the ball touched his finger tips. She could of easily dodged that attack, with her astonishingly quick footwork! She needed to get down there and get in the game, but she couldn't just leave a seven year old boy by himself. Standing on the tips of her cleats, she struggled to find a familiar kind face within the sea of strangers.
"Gay Berry!"
Rachel winced, gripping Stevie's hand tighter as she made her way through the rowdy crowd. She cursed her short stature as she shoved her way to the sidelines of the football field, avoiding a frustrated looking Coach Beiste and momentarily delaying her confrontation with the large woman. God, she loathed confrontation, especially with people who could easily cause her numerous irreversible injuries.
Santana broke away from the other cheerios as she spotted them, her glare never straying from Stevie's tiny body. "Who the fuck is this!" She yelled as she reached them.
Rachel slapped both her hands over the obliviously smiling boy's ears. "I'm alarmed at your crass language! And in front of a child, too!"
Stevie shook her hands away and stared up at the hostile cheerleader with a squinty eyed grin. "Hi," he chirped with a shy wave. "I'm Stevie!"
Santana scowled at him in irritation. "I don't ca-"
"Rachel?"
With the flood lamps bouncing off of her slightly damp skin -sweaty from executing another one of Sue Sylvester's dangerous and death defying 'routines', no doubt- Quinn Fabray was literally glowing as she walked over to where they stood. She ignored the way Santana gagged as she looked at Quinn in wonderment. She couldn't help it - dear lord almighty - there was just something about the hazel eyed blonde that made her tongue tied and flustered beyond comprehension.
With a gulp, she waved demurely at the object of her undying affections. "Greetings," she squeaked out embarrassingly. From beside her, she could feel the vibrations of Stevie's laughter. Oh, dear Barbra- even a child could tell that she had absolutely zero game with girls.
"Hey," Quinn husked out.
Instant butterflies erupted within her. She stared stupidly at the girl, forgetting all about Santana and Stevie's presence. "You- you look...look great, Quinn," she stuttered out with shy dimpled smile.
"Ay, esta loca," Santana mumbled to herself impatiently, shoving aside the suddenly bashful looking Quinn. "Where the hellz have you been, hobbit?"
Stevie wrapped his arms around Rachel's waist and glared up at the brunette cheerleader. "Don't call Rachel mean names, she's a hero...sorta like Spiderman, cept she's a girl!" The boy announced, looking up at the halfback with an affectionate look. "She saved Stacy."
"I don'ts got time fo' this." Santana stated with a disgruntled scoff. The Latina made a move to attack the tiny football player, making her jump lightly, before backing away with a cocky smirk. "I'mma go tell Britts that you're not stuffed in a trashcan somewhere, unfortunately." Santana called out behind her back as she swaggered away. "See you later, Stan!"
"My name's Stevie, not Stan," the little blonde mumbled, staring at the ground despondently.
Quinn looked back at them apologetically, glancing down at Stevie curiously. "I hope the mean lady didn't scare you," she offered to the blonde boy with the nicest smile Rachel's ever had the privilege of seeing.
Stevie shook his head and puffed out his chest. "Nothing scares me!" He declared with grandiosity.
The blonde smiled, completely charmed. "You do seem like a very brave boy," Quinn replied, ruffling up his hair much as he smiled in delight. She straightened up and regarded Rachel with a questioning look. "Where have you been? Your coach was accusing Coach Sylvester of kidnapping," she said with a playful smirk. "To tell you the truth, I sort of believed it."
Is she... joking with me?
Oh, dear god, I think she is.
Is this real life?
Look at us! Makin' jokes with Quinn Fabray!
Hoozah!
"Rachel?" She was broken out of her deliriously happy daze by the concerned timbre that coated Quinn's words.
"I'm sorry, Quinn. I tend to zone out from time to time," she babbled, oblivious to the blonde's amusement, "according to my therapist, it's apparently because of my overwhelming anxiety over social situations and general nervousness around people. To answer your aforementioned question," shuffling nervously, she ducked her head in embarrassment at being caught drifting off, "I was um, at the hospital."
Amusement morphed into concern in an instant. "Are you-"
Rachel shook her head vigorously in reassurance. "Everything's okay now. There is no need to worry, Quinn." Her eyes bugged out and she immediately backtracked, "Not that I'm assuming you were, of course- worrying, I mean. You don't- I-"
"She saved my sister!" Stevie exclaimed with a proud grin.
She flushed as Quinn shot her an indecipherable look that seemed to bore into the core of her being. "Did she now?" the blonde girl purred with mirth, not taking her eyes off of the crimson faced football player.
"IS THAT YOU, BERRY? GET YOUR BONY ASS OVER HERE!"
Oh, no.
We've been spotted.
She looks angry. Oh, god, is it too late to hide?
"Here, how about I take Stevie, while you go out there and win us the game," Quinn quirked a perfect brow at her teasingly, causing her knees to buckle.
I won't let you down.
Rachel nodded dumbly. "I- okay," she murmured to her crush, trying desperately to not stumble over her words, eyes fluttering as Quinn stepped closer-
-wait.
What is she-
Is she about to-
Impossible.
:::.
:::.
Everyone had those moments in life that they know -immediately from the time it happens- they were going to remember forever, always with a fond beaming smile and a happy heart.
And for Rachel Berry-
-this was one of those moments.
Quinn Fabray, prettiest girl she's ever met, the reason why she dragged herself to the miserable hell hole that was her WMHS- was hugging her. Her - Rachel Berry, the kid who even teachers and faculty liked to pick on. And right then and there, wrapped up in Quinn's arms, Rachel knew that she made the right decision in joining the football team.
It was brief, she didn't even get to hug the girl back, and her dream girl was already pulling away. But it was enough to get her heart racing, holy shit- one hug from the girl and suddenly, she felt like she could do anything.
She gaped wordlessly at the smiling blonde, taking in the light dusting of pink on her porcelain cheeks. "What was that for?" Rachel breathed out, looking starry eyed at the head cheerio.
Quinn shrugged lightly as she took Stevie's hand. "I just-" it was weird to see someone other than her stumble over their words for once, and the fact that it was Quinn made her heart want to leap out of her own chest and into the gorgeous girl's hands. "Don't get hurt, okay?"
"I promise, Quinn." She answered with all the sincerity she possessed.
.
A/N: If this sucked, blame it on my god awful painful sunburn and the fact that I've gotten no sleep at all the past week. Part two of chapter six will be posted soon!
Review?