RCV
Rachel was furious.
"Was I not clear in my letter?" she seethed.
"I don't care about your kumbaya nonsense," Chase said. "You seriously thought this would be solved over dry breadsticks and overcooked pasta? You can't possibly be that naïve."
"Hopeful and naïve are not synonymous," Rachel said. "I hoped you would be man enough to handle this conversation without the need of force or violence. Clearly, I was wrong."
Chase picked up his gun, tapping the barrel on the table before he pressed it against the side of his head. "Jesus. You're like a fucking Hallmark movie," he said. "What you don't seem to understand is that I'm only righting past wrongs. I'm progressing this family forward before we're wiped out and forgotten by a society that once praised us."
"Bullshit."
"Fine, I'll prove it."
Chase pointed the gun at his sister and pulled the trigger. He did the same thing for their younger brother. The only people left alive on Chase's side of the table was Hiram. The only person on Rachel's side who seemed moderately upset by the display was Leroy. The others were disturbed, but indifferent. Chase licked his lips and aimed the gun at Hiram.
"What would you do if I killed your father? Would you cry? Scream?" he asked.
Rachel looked at Hiram. There was a spark of hope in his eyes that Rachel couldn't bring herself to care about. She looked back at Chase and said, "I wouldn't shed a tear." Santana elbowed her in the side and Rachel grudgingly added, "But his DNA does run through my veins. I would be somewhat affected if he were to die tonight."
Chase laughed and put down the gun. "You have our spark," he said.
"I am nothing like you or your family," Rachel said. "I actually care about people, regardless of their insides, outsides, and personal beliefs."
"I care about people," Chase said.
"That was almost believable."
TW for really insulting, racist bs. You can skip the italicized if it will bother you.
"No, you misunderstand me. I care about my people. White people. Pure people." Chase sat forward and the look in his eyes might've scared Rachel if she hadn't already seen it in the eyes of Russell Fabray, Hiram, and several of the students and teachers at the high school. Chase continued his little speech, "My family has seen every civil rights movement, subculture riot, and religious reformation America has coddled and let go on for a little too long. I've seen brothers die at the hands of gang-bangers like your little chica over there. I've watched women get brutally assaulted by monkeys parading as honorable men when they are nothing more than savages dressed in suits. I-
TW over
Chase stopped when he saw Rachel's shoulders shaking. She had her hand over her mouth and was trying not to laugh.
"What the hell is so funny?" he asked, angry.
Rachel held up her finger and visibly collected herself. "Nothing. You sound like a walking propaganda from the fifties. But, no, all jokes aside, I would be very careful insulting my girlfriend. I might not be a fan of violence, but I can assure you she is. Oh, and I would refrain from insulting my father because my siblings are very protective and not afraid of going to prison," she said.
"I'm not scared of some half-breeds and a bean picker," Chase spat.
Santana moved faster than Rachel could've anticipated. One moment, Chase was snarling like a rabid dog. The next, Santana had her hand tangled in his hair as she slammed his face against the table. His nose cracked on impact, and Santana held him down for a few seconds before she yanked his head back and looked down at him.
"Llámame asi de nuevo? Te cortaré la garganta," she hissed.
Quinn and Rachel looked at one another with the same expression.
What the fuck…?
Quinn shifted in her seat and Rachel remembered what happened in the bathroom only a few minutes earlier. She clenched her jaw and forced herself to look away from Quinn, and also not look at Santana. She chose to stare at Chase, which admittedly wasn't much better.
"Sé de ti," Santana said coldly. "Se todo sobre ti."
Rachel shivered at the tone. Santana released him and settled back in her seat. Chase spit blood on the table and glared at Santana.
"You'll pay for that," he threatened.
Rachel tossed him a napkin. "Was there a reason you called this meeting?" she asked flatly. "Because all you're doing is pissing me off and I'm tempted to walk out."
Chase, with his broken and bloodied nose, smiled with blood-stained teeth on fully display. "I have a proposition for you," he said.
"You're the one going off on tangents. I've been here, patiently waiting for you to explain why you've terrorized my family for the last year or so. Surely, it's not just about money. Money that I don't even have access to."
She didn't see Santana twitch in the corner of her eye nor did she see Leroy wince.
"Oh, you haven't heard?" Chase asked nasally. "The Corcoran fortune officially belongs to you as of a week ago."
Rachel frowned. "Meaning?" she asked.
"Carbon monoxide is a cruel and unforgiving killer."
"Shelby's dead?" Hiram asked.
"Cold as ice."
Rachel felt Quinn squeeze her shoulder, but she didn't know how she felt. She wasn't really upset that the woman was dead. She didn't know her well, but it would've been nice to know from someone other than Chase.
"So, you see, Rachel, you do have access to that money."
"How much?" she asked.
"Ten million dollars," Santana said, answering for Chase.
"All of this for ten million dollars?" LJ huffed.
"There's over seventy-five million dollars in that account," Chase snapped.
"There was over seventy-five million dollars. Now it isn't," Santana corrected.
"You're lying!" Chase shouted.
His fingers inched towards the gun. LJ reached over before Chase could grab it and snatched the weapon off the table.
"Thank you, LJ. I wouldn't want Chase getting trigger happy when he doesn't even know the whole story," Santana said.
"What story?" Hiram asked.
"Glad you ask, deadbeat father. You see, the Corcoran family account had about $75 million dollars about a week ago. Your idiot brother thought Shelby didn't know about the money, but she did. She chose not to spend it, not to legally claim it, because she wanted to work for her fortune. But Chase showed his hand when he started asking too many questions. Shelby took out $65 million and split it between charities across the country."
Chase's eyes widened. Santana smiled, and suddenly stood up from her seat. The atmosphere changed. It got tense, and Rachel played her part. As did the others.
Rachel folded her arms as Santana walked around the table and sat down, her back to Rachel. Puck entered from behind Chase. But he wasn't alone. In fact, he had the entire Glee Club with him. Mr. Schue was there as well, who looked as if he'd taken a beating. Santana acted as if she didn't see them and Rachel tried not to react as well.
"Enough with the lies and the games," she said. "You see, I did a little digging. You, Mr. Miller, are not in charge of a hate group nor are you really that popular amongst your community. People actually hate you and think you're a liability. You're nothing but a lackey with a gun. But I will concede that you are a member of a very dangerous, very vindictive Neo-Nazi group called 'Pure Life.' Now, with Pure Life, you have to bring something to the table to rise in the ranks. You picked show choir as your winning ticket, which is a little weird to me but no judgment. Anyway, no, this was never about the money. Not completely. This was about reputation. Rachel joining the Glee Club was the best thing that ever happened to you. One, because you knew she could sing, and because you lucked out by having an old college buddy of yours in town. Funny how life works, right?"
Puck pushed Mr. Schuester and the man stumbled forward. Chase glanced to the side and saw him, but Rachel had to admit his poker face was pretty intact. Santana sighed and shook her head.
"Good old reliable Will. Your old college roommate and an all-around decent guy who couldn't keep his temper in control. You found out about his wife and got Will drunk enough to admit on tape that he murdered her after she lied about being pregnant. You blackmailed him into making sure Rachel was the one in front. She was the one who got the best parts, the best songs, and the best treatment compared to everyone else. It was working too, until some people started to notice the favoritism. That's when you organized that group trip to Detroit. You told Will to get a specific group of people out to Michigan because you knew that jealousy is a dangerous game. So, you brought them all out under false pretenses and when they got there, it was too late. You did your research, I will admit, but so did I.
"You blackmailed the entire Glee club, a couple of jocks, some Cheerios, and a few police officers. Hell, you blackmailed almost half the town. You thought your plan was foolproof. Mercedes was black. Pretty easy how you got her to agree to your bullshit. Mike and Tina, you threatened with immigration problems for their parents. Sam would've ended up homeless. Blaine's father has a drug problem that could easily get him caught in prison for up to ten years. You went through and picked out every weakness of the Club, every student, every officer, and you put it in front of them. You made them pick between being a human being or helping you be an even bigger prick than you are now! But because you weren't up there in the top ranks, you didn't realize that Pure Life already had a connection to Rachel that you didn't," Santana said.
Chase scoffed and said, "What are you talking about?"
Santana pointed over Chase's shoulder and Rachel nearly fell out of her chair. Puck stepped to the side to reveal none other than Shelby Corcoran.
Very much alive.
Very much angry.