Chapter 2:

Authors Note: So I love the amount of people that are interested in this, it actually sparks my imagination to write even more. Hence, this was churned out rather quickly. I've changed a bit, not much, in the previous chapter, just fixed a few things and added a date.

I'm gonna do some time jumps, just to showcase the Unholy Trinity's relationship with Rachel, and lay some ground work for Faberry.

As always, thank you very much, and please review, I love to hear what people think.
I own the story, the concept belongs to konako on tumblr, characters aren't mine. But enjoy.

******

June 1st

Rachel stood in the beauty aisle at Buehler's, looking at the various dyes and bleaching products, weighing them both physically and metaphorically, because metaphors were important. Three weeks of summer break had already passed, and she was bored of her current schedule. Not so much the singing and dancing and acting, but the lack of people in her life. She sat down the first day of break, made a schedule that included socialization time, ensuring that her time was spent efficiently and effectively. A problem arose when no one else seemed interested in spending time with her, or if they were, which Rachel figured they were just being polite, her acquaintances were just being polite.

Because that was the best definition she could determine at the moment. No, she didn't want darker hair, maybe highlights, which meant the choices on her left were out. They weren't her friends, because, from every definition she could determine through research involving both dictionaries and the internet, the people hung out with at school didn't seem interested in spending time with her. Even her boyfriend avoided her, which was okay, she guessed, at least they texted and talked almost nightly, maybe. Just not that often this past week. Which was okay. It was fine, and she wasn't upset by it.

No, animal testing, not kosher. Kurt talked to her occasionally and met for coffee when it was good for him, and it was just expected that she would drop what she was doing. Mercedes was spending time with Sam before he left, while the rest of the Gleeks had found themselves busy with various other things and plans, and certainly activities that did not concern her.

Rachel had a taste of friendship her junior year, and enjoyed the emotions and support greatly. Even though she was a bit of a diva, she wanted to continue that experience and turn the friendly acquaintances into more. The how as difficult to figure out. She wasn't very likable, and she was aware of how aggressive and controlling she could when she got excited about things. It hurt, the react from people she knew, but it was okay. One day, Rachel Barbara Berry would be a household name; she would be famous and amazing and eventually loved. Rachel just had to repeat it to herself and tell herself that her future would be enough. It had to be. Until it wasn't.

She wiped a tear away, and put the bleach back on the shelf. Maybe blonde wasn't the way to go, what about pink or oh, blue tips, that could be-

Rachel turned to look down the rest of the aisle straight into the chest of Santana Lopez, almost falling over as she tried to avoid touching the girl. She looked around, taking in her surroundings and attempted to determine the quickest means of escape. The problem was that Santana wasn't alone; the other two-thirds of the Unholy Trinity. "I-um-why-" Her words failed her, which was fine, because she mind failed her as well, leaving her with no thoughts or anything to deal with her worst tormentors in high school.

While Glee had lessen the names and taunts and general hatred to the diva, Rachel had found, despite numerous, well-intended, awkward extending of the olive branch in pleas of friendship had fallen on two pairs of deaf ears. Brittany at least seemed interesting in befriending her, but didn't want to go against her pseudo-girlfriend slash best friend, leaving Rachel once again an outcast, even in the group of people who were just losers like her.

The girls had dressed in somewhat normal clothing, though the low tank-top and extremely short shorts on Santana bordered on indecency. Quinn was dressed in a lovely pale yellow summer dress, her shoulders bare and perfectly smooth. Brittany modeled tights that ended at her shins and a shirt that barely hung on her shoulders, showing no bra. Alone, without any of her normal protections like an animal-sweater or stars, or anything really. Not that they worked, but it was the thought that counted, right? She had come straight from a dance lesson, and was tired and didn't bother to change out of her work-out cloths, something that seemed foolish now.

"What up, hobbs," Santana asked, smirking at her. Brittany reached down and picked up a box that Rachel must have dropped or held on and didn't realize it or knocked over.

"Oh, you want to be a blonde?" Brittany asked, examining the model on the front cover of the box. "You sure? Because, its more trouble than its worth. Especially with how it drains your brain."

The smirk that embodied Santana disappeared as her attention turned to the taller girl. "Excuse me? Who told you that, B?" Brittany lost her smile and looked away. "Was it man-hands here, she tell you that bullshit idea?"

"No, Tana," Brittany said, her voice barely audible. "It wasn't Rachel."

"I'll deal with this later, first things first," Santana said, the glare now focused onto Rachel. She fought a shiver of fear, and tried not to look into the girl's eyes. "I want to know what makes you think a simple dye-job would make you even remotely attractive, dwarf? You think that it's that simple?" Rachel focused on the Latina, refusing to let the vocal abuse -

"Even in glee, you still are dragging us down into loserville with you, which despite your extremely short stature and child like proportions that make a pedophile cream his pants, it's a fantastic accomplishment. I mean, the schnoz and that mustaches you delude yourself into being small is enough to distract me at times, since I can't seem to focus on anything except the middle of your face, except when you open your mouth, however small it may be, which probably upsets Finnocence since you can't even fit his pinky into it, releases out a tone that can destroy the will to live." Santana paused for a breathe, before continuing her tirade against the little diva.

She had hard these things before, in many different ways, often accompanied by a slushie, though rarely were they direct at her face, and certainly never this many at one time. Some part of her wanted to shrink down into herself, avoiding the looks of hatred and disgust that were so common at school. But she was away from that hellhole, if she could be so bold. Rachel was suppose to be safe and free from that. Santana ignored that Rachel was ignoring her, but it wasn't exactly ignoring. It was despair and sadness stepping over the line where it was just too much.

"Fuck you," Rachel said, interrupting Santana midword and hand wave, which almost brought a smile to her face, but she was tired of it. There was no rage: her body did not shake, or pulse race, or eyes focused on anyone. In fact, she closed her eyes. Rachel was too tired to keep them open.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, Fuck you," Rachel replied. In a penny, in a pound, she figured. It wasn't like she wasn't going to get slapped, so at the very least, she wanted to get her say in, however mean and cruel it would be, even if it wasn't her.

"Oh you did-"

"I did, because you are a bitch, no that's insulting to female dogs, you are fucking slut; you can't say thing a single thing that isn't vitriolic or destructive." Rachel leaned against the aisle, and fought to stand up. She was exhausted. "You are hatred incarnate and can't begin to understand anything that doesn't hurt or is enjoyable. You have sex with so many people probably because somehow you think the physical tingle you get from a mediocre orgasm will ever mimic what actual happiness feels like. A bitch at least will understand loyalty and love and devotion, while you-" A giggle interrupted her and Rachel opened her eyes to the surprised look on Santana's face.

"That was so hot," Brittany said, but Rachel kept her eyes on the Latina, in fear of retribution. "Wasn't it, Tana?"

Santana's surprised look slide slowly into a smirk, like a wolf who had found a weak, tired bunny and was ready for a meal. "Took you long enough, Berry."

"I resent- What?" Rachel said. She was not expecting approval. Or happiness if she was reading the emotion right. Or anything remotely positive. "What do...huh?"

"She's not bad when she shuts up," Santana continued, giving her a quick glance up and down. "I'm sure we can make this work, right Q?" Rachel spun to look at head cheerleader.

Quinn hadn't changed much since New York: short and chopped hair that just sat around her face, drawing the attention to her, without revealing anything. She wore no make up, no lipstick, nothing to hide her face. The smile was new though; a real small that lightened up everything about the blonde. It was nice to see. The former head cheerleader just nodded.

"Good, come," Santana said, picking Rachel up by one arm and Brittany did the other. They were carrying her out the store before she realized that she dropped her bag and- oh, Quinn picked it up and was behind them, with that damn smile on her face.

"Wait, are you kidnapping me?" Rachel asked. Her fathers had wished that she took self-defense in order to ensure her safety, but she decided that the time spent in a dojo could be spent in a studio instead. Stupid choice. "I'll have you know-"

"Relax, Berry," Santana said, "We're not kidnapping you, we're taking you out to lunch. It'll be fun."

Rachel frowned as they carried her to a car; the Unholy Trio would never want to take her any place that didn't involve her humiliation. In fact, she had a hard time convincing herself that they weren't going to take her to some deserted area, probably a forest and finally make her disappear, as often they wished. Rachel backed away from the passenger side door as Brittany entered and then the driver's side, pulling herself in as much as possible, hoping to put some distance between her and the girls.

"My..my..what about..." she said. She couldn't breathe, the air was so stale and stiff and it tasted horrible, oh Barbara, was that bile, she was going to be sick, her stomach was churning, boiling over and bouncing up and down, though she didn't move, oh my Barbara, the room was darkening, it spun around and around and around-

"Breathe, Rachel," Quinn said, cupped her head and stroked her cheek, "It's okay. I promise."

******

November 1st

Rachel yawned and pulled her body pillow closer to herself. It shivered and shook, and frankly, it was annoying her when she actually wanted to sleep in. While five days a week she had devoted herself to being up early and exercising and generally the best she could, Brittany explained that she would hurt herself if she continued at that pace, and she didn't want to see that. So Santana threatened Rachel to slow down and relax. One of the benefits of having friends she supposed.

"Aww," Brittany's voice echoed through her dream, "They look so cute together." Rarely did she dream about that blonde, but it happened before and Rachel wouldn't complain about those dreams.

The body pillow shivered again as a breeze caressed her. Rachel shifted to her side and pulled it closer, burrowing her face into its neck. It also shifted and caressed her leg with it's own. She decided it felt nice, and this dream could continue as long as possible. The body pillow was warm, though it shivered constantly, which shook Rachel and would wake her up. She tightened her grip, move her head so it was just under its, and pressed her chest against, trying to share their heat.

"We should take a picture," Santana's echoed somewhere. "You know, for blackmail and shit."

"That is a mean thing to say," Brittany replied.

"It'd be funny, though," Santana said. The two would not let her sleep. Why were they even in her bedroom this early. The sun was doing nothing to keep her warm. Usually five or six blankets did that. But she had none, here, apparently, which was stupid and inconsiderate of wherever she was. That is a problem that should be fixed.

The leg continued to move, and despite the cold, Rachel felt a warmth between her and her pillow. It felt physically stiff, but texturally soft, which was an interesting combination, but still, it made her warmer and she wasn't going to complain. She pressed hard against it and her pillow moaned, its chin pressing down on her head so Rachel was forced down a little bit, her mouth just about the clavicle of her pillow.

"Standard bet says she freaks," Santana said.

"She who?"

"Berry. Berry'll freak."

"Kay, sounds fun."

The stiff, warm rod continued to move against her stomach, and Rachel smiled against the soft skin. This dream was wonderful, and never had her body pillow...felt...like...She opened her eyes and stared at the pale, perfect skin that was pressed to her face. Arms wrapped themselves around her head and the legs tangled with her. The thing, well, things that interested her the most was what could only be defined as supported by that bride movie she watched over the summer with the Unholy Trio, alleviating the world of its "shortage of perfect breasts." They were much smaller than her own, but Rachel could only stare as they rested on top of her own. She felt the warm between her body and the other girls and -

"Holy fuck!" Rachel rolled away, jumped up and pulled her cheerleader top back down. Laying on the ground, still sleeping despite the rather echoy scream as she normally did, was Quinn Fabray, hottest girl in all of Lima despite what Santana liked to say, and a...a...penis was between her legs, erect despite the cold (Rachel liked to think herself well-read so she knew of the issues of cold had on the male anatomy).

"Damn," Brittany said. "Tana wins."

"As always." Rachel turned and looked at the couple. They looked no worse for the wear. The cold wind bit at her, and the cheer-leading outfit she rented and needed to return before the weekend was over did little to protect her. Santana and Brittany wore heavy winter jackets, boots, the works and held a bag.

"Who...what is... I don't..." She pointed down at Quinn's appendage and the sleeping blonde before shifting to pointing at the couple. "Did you...how is...what?" Rachel nearly fell over a root of a nearby plant-tree thingie as she stepped back, trying to put as much space between her and the strangeness, because she wasn't ready to deal with this. And strangeness didn't explain the tiger that chased her, if that wasn't a dream. If it was, then how did she end up outside with Quinn, who was naked and buried her hands under Rachel's top, tangled up her legs and rubbed an erection against her bare stomach. Rachel hadn't decided which was worse, if there was an even worse situation here(or if she was upset that she was woken up when enjoying the warmth of Quinn, but she wouldn't admit that yet. Warmth was nice. Shut up, brain. You're not longer aloud to talk).

"Berry, I always love when you can't speak," Santana said. "Its so..." She shivered with an expression between a smirk and pure enjoyment. "nice."

Brittany slapped Santana's arm lightly, though had a smile on her face. "Be nice. Quinn's probably cold."

"Right," Santana replied. "Berry wake her up. Sleeping Beauty style."

"What?"

"You've seen the Disney movie right? Just kiss her and she awakes. I'll be cool. I'll have video evidence of it."

"The original fairy tale involved the prince raping sleeping beautiful, Aurora mind you was her name, and she only awoke when giving birth, the baby pulled the thorn out," Rachel said. The two cheerleaders stared at her. "Sorry."

Quinn muttered something and rolled to her stomach. She rested her head in the crook of her elbow and waved behind her with one hand, shooing other three girls away. Santana sighed and stepped forward. Without even a preamble, she slapped Quinn's ass hard. The sound echoed the almost empty forest, and Rachel smiled; she couldn't help it. It was a nice sound.

"huh?" Quinn raised her head slowly. "Whtshppnng?" She rolled over to her back, her eyes covered by one of her arms, the other just laid there. She didn't seem concerned by the penis that was sticking out where her clitoris should be.

Quinn Fabray was the least morning person Rachel knew. Everyone else was at least somewhat conscious of their surroundings and the world. Rachel was one of the few people she knew who had a zero to five hundred, as Brittany liked to put it, in the morning. Quinn preferred to slowly ease her way out of slumber, and by ease, that meant remaining in her bed as much as possible before falling out and crawling to the kitchen for coffee and bacon. Rachel had seen it. It was a funny as it sounded, since Quinn actually crawled one time. She wasn't even hungover or anything.

"Wake up, Lucy Q," Santana replied. "It's morning."

"Cold." Quinn said, her eyes refusing to open.

"That's cause you're buttass naked."

"Pillow?"

"She stood up. And is still staring at your cock." Brittany slapped Santana's arm again. "What, Berry is." Rachel pulled her eyes away, turning around and crossed her arms. This was not happening. This was not happening. This- "Weren't you, hobbit?"

"Nooo," Rachel replied. "I was just-"

"Santana," Quinn growled. An actual growl that reverberated in within her body, and for a brief moment, Rachel was warm again, from the tip of her nose down to her... "Cloths."

"Right, sorry." The girl actually seemed contrite, sorry even. A bag landed somewhere near by, and Rachel listened to the rustling of cloths and a few grunts. "Better?"

"Yes," Quinn said. A coat wrapped around Rachel's shoulders and she turned around. "You're freezing."

"This isn't-" Rachel started, but Quinn pressed a finger against her lips. She stared at the blonde. Quinn was always a bit taller than her, but now, it seemed like the girl was even taller. In the bright morning sun, Rachel could see faint blue lines across her bare skin, from her face down to her, stop looking there Rachel. Despite wearing sweatpants, Quinn hadn't buttoned the flannel shirt yet, which just hung around her breasts. The erection was still evident too, which Rachel fought with herself to keep her eyes off of it. Like now.

This was too strange. First being stalked/chased by a male tiger, then almost sexually assaulted by said tiger, then the tiger decided it was her blanket, then waking up with Quinn as her blanket, who had a penis. That didn't exist over the summer. Rachel would remember seeing the girl with a penis when she wore the thong. It was a very clear memory. Very clear.

"You're freezing."

"Yes," Rachel said. Though her teeth shook and lips felt numb. Winter had come early, and it wasn't even Westeros. She couldn't deny it. Finally pulling her eyes up, Rachel could only see concern and a faint smile on the blonde. She had cut her hair sometime during her punk phase, but at least she took out the pink highlights. It didn't suit her complexion like a light blue did or maybe a pale purple. Damn sixteen bit color scheme.

Quinn looked around and sniffed the air. "We should get you warmed up. It'll probably snow today and I need coffee." She turned away, starting to walk barefoot in the forest and buttoning up her shirt. Santana and Brittany followed her, but Rachel refused to move.

"No," she said softly. Rachel knew she was being silly and childish. But this would not fly.

"Excuse me, princess?" Santana asked.

"I said no," Rachel repeated. "I want answers."

"You will get them," Santana said. "When we're warm." She glared down at Rachel, despite almost being the same height, which was a great achievement and never failed to make her feel small. The Unholy Trinity were her friends, but three years of insults and torments had its effects. Quinn stepped in front of the Latina, giving her a brief raised eyebrow.

She stepped closer to Rachel, and she felt again the small, insignificant loser that she was, a small scared bunny under the gaze of a predator. She was used to this feeling, didn't mean she liked it; it was suppose to be in the past. It was. "Rachel."

"Is this why you..." She stuttered for a second. "Is this why you weren't around at the beginning of school, why you avoided me? Because of..." Rachel waved up and down. "The penis?"

Quinn said nothing, but stepped closer.

"Or was it the tiger thing? Where you terrified I'd run away? I'm assuming that the male tiger I was chased by, which is your fault by the way because it was dark and scary and you were big, and still are I guess, but the point is you hid this from me. From me." Rachel nearly screamed the last bit, but kept her voice down. It was one of two money makers for her, and she'd be stupid to ruin it.

"Rae, I-"

"We're friends, aren't we," Rachel said, and looked down. She couldn't let the former Cheerio see the tears, not after surviving three years avoiding them see her break. "Or was this a giant joke to play on the loser of McKinley, the girl everyone hates. Just build her up, pretend to be her friend, and then when she's finally close to being happy, lie to her, hide from her, avoid her, and then scare her so much that she runs through a forest filled with insects and bugs and things that crawl, not to mention numerous roots that she could have broken an ankle on, effectively ending her career before it began. Oh Barbara, I forgot about the bugs." She rubbed her arms, quickly, trying to scratch them and push the non-existent things away.

"no, no," Quinn replied, "Rae, I swear." Rachel looked up to see Quinn standing only a few feet away from her.

"AM I really that horrible to be around?" Rachel asked. She avoiding looking at Santana who small lines in her make up, or Brittany's shattered happiness replaced with silent sobs. "I know I'm difficult, and it can be really annoying when I get excited, but I thought, you guys helped, I mean, I'm not – please, Quinn, this isn't some joke is it? I'm not-" Rachel was pulled into a hug despite being a few feet from Quinn; at least, she was a few feet. The blonde had wrapped her tightly, and Rachel fought the nightmares she had since the three of them befriended her, trying to avoid the thoughts about how when she finally had friends, actually friends, not just acquaintances, they would leave her.

"Don't cry, sweetie," Quinn said. Rachel wasn't. She couldn't not in front of the three worst tormentors in school, well two and Brittany. She hadn't before and refused to now. The train of thought didn't stop her silent gasps of breathe, her heaving shoulders, and eyes squeezed shut as much as possible.

"please," She begged, and wrapped herself tightly around Quinn, "I... I..."

"I"m so, so, so sorry, Rae," Quinn said. "I never meant to hurt you. Not after the summer, not after we finally got to know each other. And I am so sorry about everything we ever did to you. Nothing can remove the pain and sorrow we made you suffer, but Santana and I wanted, want Rachel, we want to make it up to you, even if we never can."

"Rachel, I'm," Santana said, having stepped so she was right next to the diva. A hand covered her shoulder and squeezed it tightly. "This wasn't suppose to happen this way. You weren't suppose to-

"Find out?" Rachel asked, her words escaping faster than she could think, which was amazing given how her mind accelerated so quickly now, until she couldn't hold a thought in her head. "I wasn't suppose to know about Quinn having a penis, or being a tiger sometimes, or-"

"No," Santana said, "you weren't suppose to find out this way. Quinn wanted to tell you, I wouldn't let her."

"Why?" She turned in Quinn's arms. The girl refused to let her go, which Rachel was okay with, because she didn't think she could stand. Her face was wet, but she didn't know why; it wasn't tears, she was certain of it. "Am I not-"

"Oh sweetie." Santana rushed forward and hugged her tightly, adding herself to the hug. Brittany followed suit, and rested her head on Rachel's shoulder. "No, we trust you completely, it's just-"

Brittany spoke softly, her words almost not reaching Rachel's ear. "Quinn was terrified you wouldn't want to be around her, so she ran away. Tana just wanted to ease her back and slowly let you know." Rachel shook her head in defiance. "Yes, she did. Quinn was gone for so long, being a skank and all, and it hurt when she came back, even if she did, because she wasn't there for a while and now she's back and with us and-"

"I'm sorry," Rachel said.

"Rachel, you should never have to apologize about this," Santana said.

"So you're not made about me being..." Quinn trailed off. Her head must have been just above her own, which was weird because that certainly wasn't true before. Brittany was the tallest of the trinity, not Quinn.

"No, I'm not," Rachel said. "I'm mad that you felt you couldn't trust me, and that you felt that it was something to be ashamed of, and that it's pressing into me now, isn't it?" Her face felt really warm all the sudden.

Santana jumped back out of the hug. "God, it's like you're a teenage boy. A stiff breeze will give you a stiffy."

"I am teenager, Satan," Quinn laughed. It was hearty and full and feminine, and so Quinn that Rachel didn't even realize how much she had missed hearing it. She gave Rachel one last, long hug before pulling away. "Come, Rachel's cold, I'm starving and Brittany probably wants Lucky Charms."

"Fruit Loops!" Brittany said, joining her girlfriend and picking up her pinkie with her own, swinging their linked arms back and forth, as though nothing was wrong. For the moment, there wasn't.