A/N: OK, so I'm updating pretty quickly in preparation for the next few days' absence from cyberspace. My cousin is getting married in England, so I'll be gone from Thursday to Sunday… But I'll be back with an update Monday, scout's honour!

The title of this chapter is inspired by 'If I Die Sudden' by John Mellencamp. Hey, if he's good enough for Butch!Kurt, he's good enough for me…

In other news, I am once again delighted with the support of my reviewers. Much love goes to Tayler, MK300, LiveLoveLaughLife and sparklylulz for dropping me a line. It's really appreciated!

DISCLAIMER: Must you crush my dreams? *mumbles* Fine, I don't own Glee. Happy?

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Morning broke slowly over the mountainside lodge. As soon as the first strains of light filtered through the windows, the group were up and about, searching frantically.

Tina had not returned.

"We need to get out there and look for her," Mercedes said firmly once the teens had begun to assemble in the kitchen building. They were sitting around two large tables which Finn had pushed together, all in various states of anxiety. A subdued silence fell when Mercedes spoke, silence nobody seemed willing to break.

"Breakfast!" Rachel declared, bursting through the swinging kitchen doors with two heavy trays. The entire group looked incredulously at her and she seemed to remember herself. "Sorry. I cook when I'm upset, force of habit."

"It looks great Rach," said Finn with a lopsided half-smile. He stood up to help her and gave her hand a quick comforting squeeze as he took one of the trays. Rachel smiled shyly. The trays were laden with pancakes and jugs of maple syrup. There were bowls of strawberries and blueberries and even a couple of small jugs of melted chocolate. Golden apple juice and freshly-squeezed orange juice filled tall, thin glasses and plates were stacked high with French toast. It all looked heavenly.

Nobody could bring themselves to touch a thing.

"Look, Mr Schue is tryin' to make out like nothin's up," Mercedes said in a low, conspiratorial voice. "But we all know that ain't true."

"'Cedes is right," continued Kurt. "Tina wouldn't just wander off. She never does anything by accident. Not even those unfortunately maudlin clothes."

"Maybe she tripped and hit her head," suggested Santana.

"Whatever the hell is goin' on, we've gotta find her," Puck said fiercely. "She's part of the team."

"Never leave a man behind," muttered Finn, nodding curtly at Puck. The pair had never gotten back to their pre-babygate friendship, instead choosing to maintain a frosty civility.

"What if something bad happened to her?" Rachel whispered, voicing the fear nobody else could. "Like… like…"

"Don't," said Mercedes fiercely. "Don't even say it. She's fine. She's fine."

"The only way we're going to know for certain is if we get out there and bring her home," Puck reminded them.

"Schuester won't be happy about this," muttered Santana. Puck smirked.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

BANG.

They all jumped guiltily, expecting Will to enter wearing an accusing expression. Instead, the tall thin form of Mike Chang sloped inside.

"Dude, where have you been?" Matt demanded. "We woke up and you weren't there."

"I… uh, I went…"

Mike was pale and unsteady on his feet. Determined to be of some use, Rachel jumped to her feet.

"Come and sit down Mike," she said, as gently as she could manage. "You don't look so good."

It was true; the dancer's skin was devoid of its usual sallow tone and his eyes were red and puffy. Rachel helped him to her seat, but recoiled when their hands brushed against each other.

"Mike, you're freezing!" she exclaimed, springing away from him. "It's like you've been out in the cold all night."

Mike avoided her gaze.

"You haven't, have you?" Santana asked him. He gave a small, sheepish nod.

"Dude, what the hell?" yelled Puck, thumping him in the arm. "Are you a complete fucktard? Horror movie rule number one: don't go off on your own. You get killed."

Silence developed as the implications of this statement crashed over them all. Even Brittany seemed to sense that something was wrong. She looked at Puck with frightened eyes and he realised his mistake at once.

"No! No, I didn't mean… not Tina," he stammered, eternally grateful that Artie had not surfaced from his bedroom yet. He glanced wildly around for help.

"What were you doing all night, man?" Matt asked loudly. Mike kept his gaze downcast. "Mike, talk to me buddy. You're freaking us out."

Mike swallowed. "I was- I was looking for Tina."

Unspoken shock reverberated through the room. Kurt coughed.

"I was trying to sleep," Mike continued. "But I just couldn't. I knew you guys would try to stop me, so I waited until you were all asleep and I snuck out. I looked everywhere, but I- I couldn't find her. I ran around out there for hours but there was no sign of her."

"Dude, are you crazy?" Puck demanded.

"Mike… why would you go looking for Tina on your own?" asked Kurt slowly. He looked the Asian boy up and down carefully.

"I just… I was worried about her."

Kurt seemed unconvinced.

"I like Tina. We get on well together. She- she's a great dancer."

Perhaps sensing the tension in the air, Finn clapped his hands together in a good imitation of Mr Schue. "How about we split into two groups? That way nobody's going off on their own, but we cover twice as much ground."

"Sounds good to me," Santana agreed.

"The guys should split evenly between the groups," Rachel chimed in.

"Finn and I will go together, and so will Matt and Mike," decided Puck. "Santana and Brit are with us. Berry, Kurt and Mercedes will go with the others."

"What about me?" Quinn interjected.

"You're not coming," said Puck.

"Why on earth not? I had a baby a couple of months ago Puck, I'm not an invalid! So why can't I come?"

"Because," Finn said before Puck could put his foot in it again. "Someone has to stay with Artie. He likes you, Quinn."

"Fine," the blonde snapped. "But you lot better keep me updated every half-hour."

"Keep you updated on what?"

"Jesus Christ!" Finn exclaimed as Will entered, Emma hot on his heels.

"Language," Quinn scolded absent-mindedly.

"Updated on what Quinn?" Will demanded. The former cheerleader stared stonily at the floor. "Updated on what?"

"Look Mr Schue, we're going to find Tina. You can try to stop us if you like, but I'm pretty sure I can take you," Puck challenged, his jaw jutting out dangerously. "We're bringing her back."

They all stared at Will, waiting for their coach's explosively negative reaction. Instead, he just nodded.

"OK. But we're coming too," he added, gesturing to himself and Emma. Finn and Puck exchanged a glance, then nodded.

"Fine," Puck snapped. "Mr Schue can go with Berry's group. Miss P, you're with us."

"Promise to keep in contact when you can," Rachel told the other group, her gaze lingering longer on Finn and anybody else. They all nodded and got themselves ready to head off. Under the cover of the ruckus, Kurt took Matt by the arm and led him away from the rest of the group.

"Matt, I hate to say this but…"

"Don't," Matt interrupted, holding his hand up. "I know what you're going to say, but don't."

"Matt, you have to consider the idea that Mike… that he…"

"Kurt, he wouldn't. I promise you."

Kurt sighed impatiently and ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. "He's your best friend, I understand that. If it was Mercedes… But I mean, why would he go running around in the dark looking for Tina? They're not even close. You have to admit, it's a bit suspicious."

Matt shifted uncomfortably.

"Matt, if you know something…"

"It's nothing. Nothing important anyway. Just trust me, he wouldn't hurt her."

"Tell me what-"

"It's nothing."

"Matt, I swear to God-"

"He's in love with her!" Matt hissed. Kurt's green eyes widened impossibly. "Happy now? Mike's in love with Tina, has been ever since we joined glee. And he told me that in strictest confidence and I never told anyone cos I'm supposed to be his wing man. He's been carrying a torch for her for ages, he worships the ground she walks on. But he won't say anything cos she's with Artie and he doesn't want to upset her. I'm telling you man, Mike would never hurt Tina. He just couldn't."

The coffee-skinned footballer shouldered his backpack and shot Kurt a knowing look. The fashionista slipped his own small cream leather backpack across his shoulderbladed. He nodded sharply to the other boy.

"I believe you," he said softly and they hurried to catch up to the others. Despite what he had said, Kurt could not prevent his gaze from straying to Mike, who walked ahead of him with Rachel. He resolved to keep an eye on him from now on.

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Quinn scratched softly on the wood of the bedroom door, not hopeful for a response.

"Artie," she called. "Artie, please come out."

Silence.

"Artie, please."

Silence.

Quinn began to pace back and forth in front of the door. Her ballet flats made little or no noise on the woven rug. The only sound was the slight catch of her breath as she struggled to maintain a calm façade. Her thumb rubbed a pattern into the thin gold band on her index finger, a gift from Shelby Corcoran. The woman who bore such a startling resemblance to Rachel had been so willing to have her involved in Beth's life- the evidence lay in the little girl's name carved into the hilt of the ring. Quinn refused any association but this. Anything else hurt too much.

"Artie," she murmured again. "Come out. Please. We can do something. Anything. You can play me some guitar. We can eat something. We can even watch that Star Trek boxset you brought with you, and you can point out the physics mistakes to me. Please Artie. I'm starting to get frightened out her on my own."

That did it. There was a squeal as the bolt was drawn back and Artie emerged, propelling himself along glumly.

"Hey," Quinn murmured.

"Hey."

"So… what do you want to do?"

"What I want is to be out there looking for Tina."

His words were a cold slap in the face as he wheeled by Quinn towards the living area. For a moment she was frozen, unable to bring herself to move. Then she forced herself to remember that Artie was scared, that he felt impeded by the prison of his chair. She strode quietly along in his wake.

The bespectacled boy was pushing his chair along with surprising speed, up and down by the glass doors. His head was bowed and Quinn knew he didn't want her to see him cry. He still wore yesterday's orange-and-green argyle sweater vest. She figured he could smell Tina's musky lilac-and-vanilla aroma embedded in its wool. Cautiously, she crept towards him, afraid he'd fly off the handle again.

"I'm sorry," he muttered tonelessly.

"What on earth for?"

"This. Being a jerk. I just- it's hard, you know? My girlfriend is lost out there, probably scared to death, and I'm stuck in here in this stupid chair. I can't do anything to help her. I'm too weak. Damaged goods." A sigh fluttered through his lips. "It just really sucks."

Quinn put a gentle hand on his shoulder, taking it as a good sign when he didn't throw her off.

"You love her," she reminded him patiently. "That's enough."

A tiny smile flitted across Artie's face. "Thanks Quinn." He laughed bitterly. "You know, I used to be completely terrified of you."

"Funny what a cheerleading uniform will do for you," she replied ruefully, stroking the slight curve of her post=pregnancy stomach. She plastered on a glowing smile. "So, how about we watch some TV?"

She crossed the room and picked up the remote control. She pointed it at the screen but nothing happened. She tried again. The screen remained resolutely blank. A frown puckered her smooth brow slightly as she pushed the power button on the TV. Nothing.

"Huh," she murmured. "I guess the power's gone. I'll get Puck to take a look at the fuses when they come back. In the meantime…"

She scanned the large room with keen eyes, eventually coming to land on a shelf full of old, dusty board games.

"Scrabble?"

The two of them settled in to play a tense, half-hearted game of scrabble. Even in his dazed, anxious state Artie ran rings around Quinn. In spite of herself, the longer they were left alone in the lodge the only words Quinn could think of were horror movie titles. Halloween. Nightmare on Elm Street. The Shining. She shivered.

"Did you hear that?" she said suddenly as Artie laid out the tiles for a triple-word score. He shot her a questioning glance. "There it is again! It sounded like… like a door opening."

"Tina?" Artie said, hardly daring to hope. Quinn leapt gracefully to her feet and skimmed down the girls' corridor towards the source of the noise. She thought it had come from the bathroom.

"Tina?" she called, her voice quivering no matter how hard she tried to control it. "Tina, is that you?"

Her hand gripped the doorknob and she twisted it before she could change her mind and chicken out. The bathroom blind clattered constantly against the open window. The white tiles glared wickedly at her. Her head spun and she stumbled over the threshold. The linen basket tumbled to the ground with a clatter.

"Quinn, is it her?" Artie called. His voice made her flinch. "Is it Tina?"

Quinn stared at the white bathroom tiles in a trance-like state. She swallowed against the hard lump obstructing her throat and turned away.

"No," she replied. "No, it was just the wind."

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Matt's group arrived back first, minus Tina of course. It must have rained at some point, unbeknownst to Quinn and Artie, for Rachel and Mercedes' hair was plastered to their heads. Emma was clad in a plastic rain poncho and looked distraught, no doubt due to the dirt which was so rampant in the forest.

"Matt," Quinn demanded immediately. "Where are Mike and Kurt?"

"We lost track of them about an hour ago," he replied. "Don't worry. They both have torches, and we left a trail for them."

"And Tina?" Artie asked shakily.

"We didn't find her sweetie," Mercedes said kindly.

"But we will," added Rachel. Quinn had never heard her sound so fierce, not even when Mr Schue had given the Tonight solo to Tina. It made bile rise in her throat. Eyes rooted to the floor, she made her way over to Matt.

"Have you heard from the others?" she enquired, indicating that he should walk with her. "From Puck?"

Matt shook his head. "Sorry Quinn. It's impossible to get signal up here." He gave her a brief hug and Quinn was reminded of how much she really liked Matt Rutherford. They had been friends ever since the third grade, when Dave Karofsky snapped the head off her Barbie doll and Matt retaliated by pushing him into the little kids' sandbox. Matt was quiet, even subdued at times, but he was one of the sweetest guys she knew, and he trusted Quinn unquestioningly.

"Matt," she said quietly, twisting to face him. "If I told you to keep everybody out of the girls' bathroom, what would you say?"

"I'd ask you if you were up to showing me why."

Quinn nodded and blinked back tears furiously. Matt followed silently as she made her way to the bathroom and pushed the door open. It swung and banged against the wall.

"Fuck," Matt swore, recoiling. He tried to shield Quinn's eyes, an action which was absolutely futile. She had already seen.

Tina was propped up against the bathtub. She was barefoot, her skin icy and stiff as stone. One foot was bloody, as though it had been caught in some sort of trap. Her silky black hair was a tangle, held away from her face by a blood-red rose on a hair band. She was shrouded in her usual black garb, but the chiffon sleeves of her shirt were pushed back. They revealed matching wounds, ugly and clinical. There was one gash on each arm, dark with congealed blood. Her open eyes stared unseeingly, her face twisted in terror.

"She killed herself?" Matt managed to choke out in a strangled whisper. Quinn shook her magnificent blonde head, unable to utter a single syllable. She pointed with a trembling finger to the tiled wall behind Tina. There, tacked up with masking tape, was a note scrawled in leaking blue fountain pen. It read:

I always knew being Goth was bad for your health.

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Oh dear. Sorry Tina lovers. Review? Please?