A/N: OK, I am officially the most awful writer ever. I told you guys I would update soon and... I lied. Well, I did intend to update quickly after my last update, but things got kinda out of hand. I got the grades I needed in my exams and my debs ball was a whirlwind and I had to move away from home and start college and everything... and I know that's a terrible excuse, but it's what happened. Please accept my apology and this new update with good grace!
As always, thanks to my loyal and wonderful reviewers. Since my last update, these include: cut-thestring, LittleMissCheese, juleszapineapple, TotesGleek120, rj29, Bella1992, LiveLoveLaughLife, SawyersNumberOneFan, KairiNamineStar, VoiceInMyHead, Swing Girl At Heart, Kkaty (twice), TheUltimateGleek123, CirqueDuGleek, OMG and omgBOOKS. I'm proud to say we're now at a whopping total of 106 reviews- so keep up the epic work!
The title this chapter is inspired by Calling All Angels by Train. Brilliant band, brilliant song.
DISCLAIMER: Yeah, I know, I know. I don't own Glee. *dissolves into tears*
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Rachel Berry was dumbstruck, a rarity for her. Normally, she couldn't keep her mouth closed. It was as though her passion for life and music built up inside and then spilled over without warning, like a river bursting its banks. Sure, it drove everyone crazy, but it was her. Though the rest of the glee club insisted that they wanted to suffocate her via stuffing an old sweatsock in her mouth, the truth was that they wouldn't have her any other way.
Which was why it was so unnerving that she was now sitting in complete silence across from her mother at one of the tables in the communal dining building. Finn was in the kitchen, attempting to cook up something edible. Rachel knew he wanted to feel like he was doing something to help her and Shelby; with Puck and Matt gone, he was the one remaining alpha male and seemed to think it was his duty to take care of the women he was protecting. A duty which apparently included cooking spaghetti in an ancient, rusted pot over the stove.
Shelby watched her daughter carefully over the rim of her coffee cup. The girl's blank expression worried her.
"Rachel," she said in a gentle voice. "Is everything OK?"
The diminuitive diva seemed to physically jolt out of her reverie. She looked almost surprised to see Shelby sitting there staring anxiously at her, and she smiled sheepishly as a dull flush spread across her cheeks. However, she soon replaced this expression with one of grim certainty.
"We're going to die," she said, her tone as matter-of-fact as it was when she explained the virtues of a power ballad.
"Oh no Rachel, we-"
"We are," the petite girl pressed firmly. "I may not be a red-blooded football jock, but I've seen enough teen slasher movies in my time to know how this works. Our numbers are dwindling steadily and it's only a matter of time before our unseen attacker turns up in the same place we're hiding. And when that happens, we are going to die."
She jutted her jaw out dangerously as though daring Shelby to argue with her. The older woman sighed wearily and reached across the table to take her daughter's hand. She really wished she had made contact with her sooner.
"You're right," she whispered softly. "There is a distinct possibility that we will die. But I swear to you," she added fiercely. "I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. Even if it means-"
"No!" exclaimed Rachel, so much horror in her voice that Finn poked his head around the kitchen door, a strand of spaghetti dangling from his mouth. She stared openly at Shelby with something akin to disgust in her deep chocolate eyes. "No, there is no way on earth I am letting you sacrifice yourself to save me."
"Rachel, I'm your mother. And I know I haven't acted like it in the past, but I'm stepping up to the plate. It's my job to protect you."
"And what about Beth?" Rachel challenged. "You're her mother now too, and she needs you more than me. You have to take care of her now, and I am not letting you die and leave her on her own just because you feel guilty for giving me up. I've had a happy, fulfilling childhood. You need to ensure that Beth does too."
Shelby opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again promptly when she saw the expression on her older daughter's face. "Fine," she hissed, defeated. She turned to Finn, standing in the doorway watching them squabble with a bowl of spaghetti in each hand and one balanced in the crook of his elbow. "Is she always this stubborn?"
The tall boy smirked. "Pretty much," he shrugged, a note of admiration in his voice, and he flashed Rachel a glimpse of the patented Finn Hudson Goofy Grin®. Shelby sighed huffily.
"Fine," she said again. "Fine, I wont throw myself into the path of any bullets to save you. But in return, you have to promise me something."
"What?"
"If you get a chance to get away, you have to take it."
"Well of course, we'll all-"
"Rachel, if you get a chance to run, you have to go. Even if that means leaving me behind."
"No, I couldn't. You're- you're my mom."
"Precisely. And what sort of mother would I be if I just let you walk to your death with open arms?"
"But... but..." Rachel trailed off weakly. Shelby's expression was unwavering. "I- OK. But only if you promise me the same thing."
The two women stared at each other for the longest of moments, mirroring each other's stubborn fury. Then, as one, they nodded. The deal was done.
"Um... who's hungry?" Finn asked lamely. He plonked the bowls of spaghetti down on the table and flopped down next to Rachel. His hand found hers and interlaced their fingers as the trio began to pick at a meal none of them really had the heart to eat. A tense silence fell over them.
THUMP.
Finn froze with a forkful of spaghetti halfway to his mouth. Rachel and Shelby exchanged wildly terrified glances.
"Get under the table," Finn mouthed to them as he got to his feet and padded towards the door.
"Finn, what are you-"
The quarterback placed a finger to his lips to silence Rachel's unfinished question and made a frantic gesture to her and Shelby. Rachel tried to hold in a terrified sob and tugged Shelby down under the table with her. They sat facing each other, knees touching, and tried hard not to breathe audibly.
The floorboard creaked as Finn neared the door above them. They heard his sharp intake of breath as he placed his hand on the doorknob. Rachel whimpered and shut her eyes. Shelby pulled her close and hugged her in a vice-like grip. They heard the slight squeal of rusty hinges as Finn pulled the door open wide and then-
"Jesus Christ dude, it's me!"
The two women tumbled unceremoniously out from under the table to see Puck crossing the threshold, Mr Schue stumbling in his wake. Both of them looked pale and shaken, but were blissfully unscathed from their foray into the forest. Rachel clambered to her feet and threw herself at them. Mr Schue grunted on impact and Puck made a noise which sounded suspiciously like a sob, but neither of them shrugged the primadonna off.
"Oh thank heavens!" she breathed hysterically. "I was so worried about you both, out there all alone. I mean, I tried not to show it for the sake of both my sanity and the rest of the group's, but I was. Even more worried than the time I heard Kurt reduce a room full of old women to tears singing Hallelujah, and that was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life, I-"
"Rach," Finn interrupted in his gentlest voice as he prised her away from Puck and Mr Schue, both of whom were gasping for air. "You're babbling."
"I'm sorry," she said, shame-faced. "I do that when I'm feeling particularly emotional and don't have a piano on hand to vent with. I'm just glad you're both safe. I don't want any of us to split up anymore."
"We won't," Puck assured her, massaging his ribcage. "It's gonna be OK Berry. Hummel and Rutherford and Aretha are gonna get help and we're all gonna get home safe and sound."
"That sounds nice," a voice said from the kitchen doorway. "But there's just one problem with that little fairytale. You see Noah, I'm going to kill you all now."
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Matt's leg was killing him. He had been trying to play it down ever since he caught his leg in the goddamn trap, trying to pretend he was fine for the sake of everyone else in the group. He had always been good at hiding his true emotions and fading into the background. At being invisible.
But he didn't want to be invisible anymore. His leg was aching, and Mike was dead, and all his friends were disappearing one by one, and Kurt Hummel had just had his stomach slashed open in front of him. He was hobbling along, holding a sobbing Mercedes under one arm and his crutch under the other, and he didn't want to be invisible. He wanted to scream and curl up in a ball and weep until he shrivelled up and died.
But he didn't. Because he was smart, and he knew he had to keep his head so that he could find the sick bastard who was doing this and rip them limb from limb. Maybe he would even gut them, like they had done to Mike.
So he bit his lip to hold in the screams that were threatening to explode from deep within him and focused instead on propping Mercedes up as best he could. They were in this together now, two kids who had just lost their best friends.
"'Cedes," he murmured quietly as he slowed their already lethargic pace even further. "Talk to me."
"What do you want me to talk about?" the diva shot back with venom. "How Kurt just died to save us? Or maybe about how Quinn is lying in a clearing somewhere and will never get to hold her baby girl? Is that what you want me to talk about? Or maybe Brit, or Artie, or Santana, or Tina, or Miss P, or Mike?"
As soon as she spat out the last name, she seemed to realise her mistake. She shook her magnificent head of dark hair hopelessly and stared at the ground.
"Matt, I'm sorry," she muttered bleakly. "I shouldn't have said that, it was cruel. I just- it's just..."
"I know," said Matt gently. Awkwardly, he pulled Mercedes closer to him and leaned his makeshift crutch against the tree beside him. "I know, 'Cedes."
Mercedes allowed her body to fold against him and pressed her face to the tight muscles of his chest. She fisted her hands in his neat dark curls and cried, angry, pained weeping that came from somewhere deep inside her. And Matt buried his face in the raspberry-scented haven of her glossy black hair, finally allowing the tears to slip down his cheeks. It would have been a beautiful moment had it not been so unspeakably tragic.
Eventually, the two broke apart. Matt picked up his crutch and rubbed self-consciously at his red-rimmed eyes. Mercedes picked at a frayed thread in her jeans.
"We should keep moving," Matt mumbled, sliding his hand around hers. "We have to get back to the others before..."
He couldn't force himself to finish the sentence, and Mercedes didn't need him to. She gave him a watery smile and led the way back through the undergrowth.
Ten minutes later, they emerged in the clearing between the main house and the kitchen unit. Seeing the lights blazing in the latter, Mercedes and Matt surged forward.
They froze inches from the building's French doors and stared inside in horror.
Their dark-clothed attacker was standing with his back to them, facing Finn, Rachel, Puck and Mr Schue. He was holding Shelby tight to him, and both Mercedes and Matt could see the blade of his knife winking in the glare of the halogen bulb overhead. It was still dark with Kurt's blood.
Matt caught Puck's eye and inched forward slowly. He placed a finger to his lips and Puck widened his eyes a fraction before allowing his gaze to return to the dark figure. Matt took another ginger step forward, holding Mercedes back with an outstretched arm. He raised his crutch in the air and sidled towards the door, close enough to the handle to see his breath fogging up the glass.
And then a twig snapped beneath him.
The figure turned, still wearing its ghastly mask. Matt could still see its smile though.
"Matt, Mercedes," it said cordially, as though welcoming them to a tea party, its voice muffled only slightly by the glass between them. "How nice of you to join us. Come on in."
Neither of them moved, transfixed by fear as they both were.
"Oh, don't be like that. If you don't come inside, I may just be so upset that I find my hand slipping-" The knife was jiggled menacingly and Rachel gave a little scream. "- and that would be a pity, wouldn't it?"
Matt felt Mercedes grasp his hand and squeeze it tight. He knew what they had to do and allowed her to pull him inside. The figure chuckled.
"That's better. Well, now that everyone's here-"
"Cut the crap asshole," Puck growled furiously. "Just tell us what the hell you want with us."
"Ah Puck," the other sighed heavily. "You really are a dumb jock, aren't you? I want to kill you, of course."
"But... why? I mean- who..."
"Haven't you figured it out yet, Mr Schue? I thought you were supposed to be a teacher. I guess I'll be waiting a while."
"Just tell us!" Mercedes begged.
"And where would the fun be in that?" the figure laughed coldly. It drummed its fingers along the hilt of the knife and a collective shiver ran through the group.
"Please," Rachel whimpered. "Please, just put us out of our misery. Tell us."
The figure froze and a smile crossed its face beneath its mask. It tugged Shelby hard, pulling the two of them closer to Rachel's cowering form.
"Well Rachel," it said silkily. "How can I ignore a request such as that when it comes from such a sweet, cherubic mouth?"
With one fluid movement it reached up and removed the mask which had been hiding its identity for so long, taunting and threatening them.
"Holy shit," Puck and Matt chorused. Finn staggered. Mercedes choked on a sob.
It wasn't some escaped mass murderer from the newspapers.
It wasn't Karovsky or Azimio or one of their vengeful pals.
Heck, it wasn't even Sue Sylvester.
It was-
"Jacob?" Rachel breathed incredulously. The boy with the jew-fro withdrew a pair of wire-rimmed glasses from his breast pocket and slid them onto his nose with much more grace than any of them had ever seen him affect before. He pulled Shelby by the hair again, narrowing the gap between himself and the small girl even further. He ran a single finger down her cheek.
"The penny drops."
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OK, so our killer's identity has been revealed. Congratulations to everyone who guessed right, and I hope it wasn't too predictable! I promise, all will be revealed before long...
At this point, I would like to mention some of my favourite incorrect guesses- they really made me smile. Other than Jacob, people guessed Emma (these guesses obviously ended with her death) Rachel, Mike, Matt, Puck, Santana, Jesse, Sue Sylvester, Sandy Ryerson, Principal Figgins, Bryan Ryan and Dakota Stanley (these last four are my personal favourites, for sheer epic randomness- credit to Swing Girl At Heart, I was in stitches).
Keep on reading and reviewing guys. Now that Jacob has been unmasked, I wonder who you want to survive?