Authors Note: I just need to say this - all of you reviewers and readers have been simply amazing lately. Like, really. I just love all of you so much!
And I'm just gonna throw this out there just in case something happens; Recently, my Aunt has passed away after battling cancer for many years. This upcoming week is the funeral and memorial service, so if the chapter is late, I'm awfully sorry. My family comes first.
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Rachel Berry and the Victimizing yet Erotic Glares of Quentin Fabray
Alice Inamorata

These people are going to think I'm crazy, he thought, feeling the sharp air slowly glide its way through his lungs. It stabbed through the visceral tissue, making him clamp his eyes shut in pain. His feet stomped on the ground, leaving footprints in the snow that would soon be covered when the nightly snowfall fell from the sky.

I'm running in twenty-degree weather in a sleeveless shirt and shorts.

He had to get away from everything so he did something that he hadn't done in years – run. Though now he felt out of shape from years of magical education, the running was allowing him to escape from his thoughts, his family…his secret. The idea of telling Rachel Berry his secret was pounding inside his head, prodding with a sharp knife, slowly slicing. He didn't know what he wanted: he could either tell Rachel or not tell her and have Santana expose him fully to the whole school. Telling Rachel seemed like a pretty good option, but then there was the ridicule he may have to endure.

But she is pretty understanding, Quentin thought, walking through the snow and into a park. He wiped the snow off of a bench and sat down. She's understanding, compassionate…kind…beautiful…

He shook his head, running a hand through his ruffled locks.

"I need a haircut."

"Can I ask you something?"

Quentin's head snapped up, his eyes meeting with the warm brown ones across the way. Rachel stood there in grey jeans and rain boots that reached her knees. Upon her upper half was the pink and gold starred parka that he had seen her in the other day.

And there he sat…in shorts and a sleeveless shirt.

"Y-yeah, sure." Quentin stammered. Rachel walked forward, swiping the snow off of the opposite side of the bench, sitting down beside Quentin.

"Why do you let Santana rule you?" She questioned, playing with her fingers. Quentin looked down and saw the soft purple of her gloves; they must have been a little tight because he could see her skin through the sides. "I mean, you're a good person."

"I'm really not," he said, looking down.

My ass is numb.

"But you are," Rachel pleaded, looking to Quentin. "I see the real you, Quentin. I know you're a good person, you're just scared…of something. I'm not sure what, but you are scared."

Quentin had no other option than to sigh, running a hand through his hair once more. He let his head fall down into his palms, a headache slowly settling in.

She's a fucking psychic, I know it.

"I would tell you, but I can't." he replied. "If I could, I would. But I can't."

"Do you…not trust me?" Rachel asked, her eyes soft. Quentin felt his body slowly melting within her presence and he knew he had to back off.

He had to act like an ass. He had to go away.

"No." Quentin stood up, walking away as fast as he could. "Why should I trust you when you don't trust me?"

"Quentin, you're a good person." She called, stopping him in his tracks. "Whatever you're hiding…I promise I won't tell anyone. It's always good to have someone to talk to. Like…well…" she sighed, crossing her arms. "I don't have anyone. That's why I was hoping maybe we could confide in one another."

"Why would I confide in you?" Quentin snapped.

"Because I see you."

"I hate my life!" Quentin yells, slamming the door loudly behind him. Regardless if it's nine a.m or not, Quentin felt as if he had to get his frustration out somehow – he had to do something. Running obviously didn't help because he had found himself running into the last person he wanted to see on the face of the earth. And it was beginning to piss him off that for some reason, he and Rachel Berry had to be on the same street at the same time and place.

He felt like God had it out for him.

"Quentin, honey, please don't yell." Judy called from the kitchen, stepping out in her silk pajamas. She was toweling off her hands as the smell of fresh blueberry pancakes flooded his senses. "Frannie and Christian are still sleeping."

"What about Dah?"

"She's at the table." Judy turned her back to her son before looking over her shoulder, "Come sit down and tell me why you hate the world so much."

Quentin stomped his way into the kitchen, sitting down across from Dahlia. He couldn't help but smile as he saw the little two year old shoving large pieces of blueberry pancake into her mouth. The blueberries were staining her porcelain skin, making it look like she was bruised, but the bruises were very sticky because maple syrup was also dripping onto her face.

Judy placed a plate in front of her son, sitting down at the head of the table and turning to him. "Okay, go on."

"I hate women." Quentin spat, cutting his pancakes and drizzling syrup onto them.

"But…ima woman Uncle 'kentin!" Dahlia pouted, "Do you hate me?"

"No, you're a very special woman Dahlia," Quentin smiled, taking a piece of pancake and shoving it into his mouth. Dahlia copied him and he smile. "It's just…" he took a deep breath, realizing his mother would not like this next sentence. "I want to tell Rachel about…you know…"

Judy looked at her son.

"No, Quentin."

"But Mum I-."

"Isn't Santana and Bryan knowing enough for you?" She stated, sipping the warm cup of tea in front of her.

"It's not that, Mum." Quentin shook his head, playing with the small squares of pancake, "There's a reason I want to tell her."

"And why is that?" Judy snapped, placing her cup back down. "Quentin, if she says something the whole school will know."

And if I don't say anything and keep seeing Rachel, everyone will find out anyways.

"I…Rachel wouldn't do that." Quentin shook his head, placing another piece of food into his mouth. He chewed slowly, his mothers eyes slicing his flesh away piece by piece.

"Good morning," Frannie called, slowly walking into the kitchen. She had a set of bags beneath her eyes, slightly puffy from still waking up. She leant down and kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Why do you hate your life, Q?"

Quentin sighed.

"He wants to tell his secret."

Frannie looked at her little brother, raising her eyebrows. "To Rachel?"

Quentin nodded.

"I think she'll be okay, Mom." Frannie said, pouring a cup of coffee. "She's a good girl…trustworthy. She's very dedicated."

"Well, I don't know her." Judy spat, "I don't want Quentin telling anyone this unless he trusts them fully and I approve."

"What's there to approve of, mother?" Frannie sat down beside Quentin, sliding him another cup that she had poured. She looked at him up and down, "And what the hell are you wearing?"

"Mommy!" Dahlia screeched, "That's a dollah in the swear jaaaaaar!"

"Yes sweetie," she smiled at her daughter and turned back to Quentin. "Why do you want to tell her?"

"I feel like she should know. It would clear up a lot of things."

"Like what?" Judy chimed in, now fully invested in what her son had to say.

She really just wanted the gossip.

"It's none of your business…" Quentin sighed, standing up and pushing in his chair. "I need to go text San and Bryan."

Quentin kissed Dahlia on the head as he slowly walked up the stairs, letting them creek beneath his weight before slamming the door behind him. Downstairs, Frannie just shook her head and chuckled to herself.

"What is it?" Judy asked. Frannie looked at her, smirking.

"Remember when he liked what's their name back in junior high?"

Judy nodded.

"He's acting the same way with Rachel." She sipped her coffee, placing it back down in front of her. "I mean…he wants to tell her because he wants to be honest with her."

Judy Fabray went to open her mouth, but Frannie motioned her to let her speak.

"Rachel is a very, very good girl, Mom. Christian works with her father, Hiram at the hospital…she's very driven, responsible…good girl."

Judy nodded.

Then the two smirked at one another.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"…Dinner party?"

"I'll invite them for tomorrow night."

Santana.

Quentin. It's about damn time you texted me. How is Loser Lima?

Shut up. And it's good. Dahlia is too cute.

Oh, so she's like me then?

Yeah, the exact same. Can I ask for a favor?

Depends. What do you want?

Go easy on Rachel.

Go easy on manhands…uh no.

Come on San, please? She's a good person.

Yeah, and you're too good for her. So shut up.

Why do you say that?

She's annoying, small, she never shuts up. Her voice is annoying. I mean, really. And it wouldn't hurt for her to grow a couple inches.

Fine. Be a bitch.

The only straight I am is a straight up bitch, Q. You know that.

So…why are you dating a guy?

I like my cock straight too. You know how we do ;]

…Okay. I didn't need to know that.

Oh Queefton, I've missed you.

Oh Slutana. I haven't missed you. How was your Christmas?

Sucked. Yours?

I watched Dahlia strangle a stuffed Pikachu. And I went for a run this morning. It was cold as hell.

…It is winter. Dumbass.

Fuck you, San.

Fuck you too, Q. *sends a heart*

You have a heart…? lol

My heart belongs to Lima Heights Adjacent and all the ladies in it.

You're an odd one, Santana…but that's why we're best friends.

Unholy Trinity Forever, baby…and you will always be a part of the Unholy Trinity.

Quentin sighed and replied:

I know I will be.