AN: Thank you for the reviews, glad to hear you like it!
Quinn had been in New York taping an interview for her upcoming film when it happened. She'd been sitting in her hotel room, wet hair wrapped in a towel, phone to her ear and a smile on her face. Beth had been chattering on and on about school and how excited she was about getting to visit Quinn in Los Angeles that summer.
She'd been making mental notes to visit all the places Beth was asking about when the flickering television had caught her attention. Cutting her short, she'd promised to talk to her soon.
She'd lied.
At first Quinn had thought the whole thing to be a hoax of some sort, or that it was some other thing that the media was over-sensationalizing like always. After all, she starred in a series of action movies based around a zombie apocalypse and she knew that zombies were nothing more than terrifying movie monsters.
Slow moving, bumbling monsters who could easily be avoided or dispatched if necessary.
Now she knew better.
When reality snuck up on her – when she saw the streams of people dropping everything and running, when she heard the screams and gunfire – there was only one thing on her mind. The call to Shelby was immediate, and she assured her that Beth was fine, if a little frightened. The infection hadn't reached them yet but they were packing up and leaving for Shelby's parents place back in Ohio. Quinn agreed to meet them there and Shelby hung up before she had the chance to ask to speak to Beth.
She tried not to think about it now, to keep the what-if's at bay, but every time she closed her eyes she thought about her baby. About broken promises and trips they hadn't gone on. Birthday gifts she'd never delivered. Birthdays Beth wouldn't ever get to have.
Her dreams had been tame as of late, as benign as they could be considering. Or maybe she'd simply adjusted to the normal slew of nightmares. She hadn't dreamt of Beth or her mother or anyone she had known. When she woke up she was in the back of the truck with Luz, her head pillowed on one of their many packs and Chevy blinking at her from around the front seat, his palm warm on her knee.
"How's your noggin?"
"I'm hoping it will hatch soon," Quinn joked roughly, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep and carefully probing at the goose-egg.
"You sure about going with them?" Alex asked from the driver's seat, drawing her attention from Chevy to the activity going on outside their vehicle. She spotted Rachel in the gray dawn light darting from vehicle to vehicle, her wiry little body so different from what Quinn remembered. But it was still Rachel, and now that
Quinn knew that she couldn't seem to stop her eyes from seeking out her old classmate to watch her every move.
"Yeah," she answered distractedly, shaking her head to break her focus.
Rachel's convoy had voted unanimously to follow them to the coast; as Rachel had said to her after, they were all searching some kind of hope for the future and they'd found it in Quinn's plan.
It was more pressure to add to the weight already bowing Quinn's back. More mouths to feed, more names to learn – more people to get to know only to have them die. If there was only one lesson that Quinn had learned it was that people left, and in the place she found herself now they didn't just decide to leave of their own volition. They were taken. Violently. For that reason alone she didn't want to know them, even as she craved the connection. Something as simple as names to go with faces or as complex as their individual stories. They would be different and yet similar in the worst of ways. There wasn't a single person alive who hadn't faced loss. They were all soldiers now in a war they had no choice but to fight. Fight or surrender to the horrible teeth, claws, and endless hunger of the damned.
"You're doing that spacey thing again," Luz rumbled next to her, dark brown eyes narrowed to slits against the sun's glare.
"Sorry, I'll try to think less," Quinn quipped, turning to curl her lip up as she scrutinized Luz bedraggled appearance. "You look awful."
It had the desired effect, Luz barked a short laugh. "And you look like Sunday morning, gorgeous," she shot back, puckering her lips in the mockery of a kiss. "Oh baby, oh baby."
"You want me to do your hair and makeup for that red carpet appearance, Hollywood?" Alex snarked from the safety of his seat, out of reach of one of Quinn's well delivered smacks.
"I hate all of you." Quinn sighed, glaring at each of them in turn. Honestly, her fame had seemed more annoying than anything after the Incident. She hated seeing her face on billboards like never before, but it did provide endless fodder for jokes at her expense and she actually welcomed that, strangely enough.
Anything that could bring some sort of levity to their Tolkien-esque quest she would embrace with open arms.
A flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye pulled her attention from her joking friends, and once again she found herself watching Rachel. An idea struck along with a painful squeeze to her heart. "I think I'll just go where I know I'm welcome."
Chevy followed the direction of her stare and shook his head as he realized the current object of her obvious obsession. "Wow. Fine. Abandon us common folk for her royal snootiness; go on. You famous people gotta stick together I guess. Don't worry, we know when we're being cast aside."
Quinn could tell he was teasing, mostly, but there was an undercurrent of warning in his tone that she was simultaneously flattered and annoyed by.
"I'm a grown up," she reminded him flatly. "I don't need your approval."
"It's cool, Q, we get it," Alex commented. "Well, I get it."
"Yeah, speak for yourself," Luz snarled, arms crossed across her chest. "I certainly don't understand your infatuation with she-Gollum."
Biting back the urge to remind Luz of her jealousy, Quinn instead gripped her trusty sawed off shotgun with one hand and opened up her door with the other, hopping out into the blazing sand. "That's your first nerdy reference of the day, Lu; don't think I'm going to stop keeping track just because your vitriol is no longer directed at me."
"Oooh, big words – I hit a sore spot," Luz snapped, but her eyes were softer when they locked back on
Quinn's. A small smile tweaked at her lips and Quinn inclined her head slightly: apology accepted. "Get out of here, Encyclopedia Blonde, before I knock your ass out and stow you in the back with the rest of the junk."
Quinn held up two fingers. "That's two, nerd." She shut the door before Luz could fire back, grinning as she heard Chevy laughing and Luz ranting. Luz flipped her off, hand smacking against the glass, and Quinn leaned forward, making a big show of leaving a lip mark as she smooched the window.
"You still have your walkie, so when shit happens and you need me to rescue you expect payback, puta," Luz's voice crackled from Quinn's hip.
With an exaggerated eye roll Quinn turned away from the truck that had been her mobile home for months and waved them off as she headed towards the dusty black Bronco at the front of the line of vehicles. With each step her heart climbed a little higher up her throat, anticipation mixing with anxiety had her doubting her choice the closer she got.
Luz would never let her live it down if she went running back now and Quinn wasn't in the habit of backing down from things that scared her. Not anymore. So with a greedy gulp of hot air she yanked on the door handle and heaved herself inside the Bronco without another thought of running away. The tan leather, well worn and cracked with heat, creaked underneath her as she slid onto the bench seat and closed the heavy door behind her.
Rachel wasn't back yet from securing everyone else – it gave Quinn time to think up an excuse for her inviting herself into Rachel's domain. She nodded to herself when she had a good enough cover story thought up and then decided to take a quick inventory of her surroundings. After all, one could never be too careful and knowing all the exits, even in a vehicle, was a must.
The Bronco looked like the inside of most of the vehicles Quinn had been in since the Incident. The cab was clear of junk but the back was filled with supplies. Curious, she reached over the seat and dug into the nearest bag, finding all kinds of batteries. That only further piqued her interest, and she reached for the bigger, military sea bag next to it and had to bend her entire torso over the seat to use both hands and open it. She found clothes in that one. They even smelled vaguely clean.
"I'm the miscellaneous supply," Rachel explained from the now open driver side door, smirking when Quinn jerked at the sound. "Did you need something?"
Quinn slowly relaxed, her finger sliding away from the trigger on her shotgun. "No, sorry for snooping, I'm actually here to be your GPS."
"So you'll be telling me to turn the wrong way down one-way streets and most likely lead me into a lake?"
Rachel asked, grunting under her breath as she pulled herself into the driver's seat.
"I loved that episode of 'The Office'," Quinn commented, settling back in her seat with a rueful smile. "And if I manage to find a lake in this lake of fire we're currently in, I will gladly steer you in its direction."
"I'd settle for a pond." Rachel sighed. "Are you really here to be my guide? No other reason?"
"I may have some ulterior motives," Quinn replied honestly, soaking in Rachel's presence much like she would gladly wallow in a dank pond at the moment.
Rachel nodded slowly, turning the key and smiling at the sound of the Bronco roaring to life. Truth be told, she'd been thinking about how she could get Quinn to agree to ride with her. Having someone from Before back in her life was the most terrifyingly amazing thing one could dare to hope for. She was flat out unable to deal with the thought of losing that tangible connection, fragile as it may be, to her old life. It had been a pleasant surprise to see Quinn gone from the Silverado and she'd allowed herself to get excited at the prospect of being near the other woman all day. "I expect nothing less of you."
Smirking to herself, Quinn adjusted her sunglasses and pried her walkie from her hip. "Alex, you've got the back end."
"Goody," came the quick reply.
Lifting her own radio, Rachel cleared her throat lightly and looked up into the rearview mirror. "Ethan, Ollie, Kevin – ready boys?"
"Can we stop at Starbucks?" Ollie sent back, the perfect touch of whine to his voice. "I want a Venti soy chai latte!"
"No, sorry, if you're nice I'll give you some coffee grounds to suck on when we set up camp," Rachel chuckled. Across from her Quinn gasped and reached over to snag Rachel's wrist.
"You have coffee grounds?"
"I'll share," Rachel promised. "Let's go boys. Eyes open for trouble." Shoving the Bronco into gear, Rachel paused to shoot Quinn a wide grin. "Giddy up?"
Quinn wrinkled her nose but waved her hand out at the open expanse of desert. "Let's get this show on the road."
They'd been driving in what was surprisingly comfortable silence for a few hours, though it was loaded and both women could feel the weight of it between them. Rachel's hands remained steady on the steering wheel, holding the squirrely vehicle true as they plowed through the desert leaving a sandy wake behind them. She risked another glance at Quinn, tongue heavy with questions she wanted to ask, regardless of how silly they seemed to her. Quinn was looking out the passenger window, one fist curled under her chin and the other cradling the walkie in her lap. It was strange to see her like that, again. She'd always been somewhat withdrawn in school – nose buried in a book or thoughts clearly off somewhere else.
Rachel had always hoped they were off somewhere better. Still hoped.
She had no opening line, really, to start a conversation with Quinn, and she fumbled a little longer, bottom lip caught in her teeth. One of them would eventually break the stalemate between them, she was sure of that, but at this point what she didn't know was how. It wasn't like they'd run into each other in New York or L. A. or even back in Lima, but now… now they were in the middle of godforsaken nowhere and the situation was less than ideal for a 'catch up'.
Finally, Quinn moved and Rachel turned to watch her while still trying to keep her eyes on the 'road'. It seemed the restlessness they were both feeling had caught up with Quinn as she started checking out the Bronco again.
An opening.
"It's not much, mostly blankets and clothes," Rachel commented lightly, wincing this time when Quinn jumped skittishly. "Sorry."
"No, I'm just – well…" Quinn trailed off, figuring that Rachel knew full well what she was 'just'. They all were.
"Yeah," Rachel nodded. "Quinn, can I – may I ask about Lima?"
Quinn stiffened, eyes stinging behind the dark, polarized lenses of her Sawfly's. "Why?"
"I'm sorry, I was just…" Rachel sighed, rolling her eyes at herself. She hadn't been thinking before she'd opened her mouth. Her social skills may have been a tad bit rusty but generally her brain to mouth filter worked a hell of a lot better. Of course in Quinn's presence she'd found herself tongue tied and blurted out the one thing you never asked. Not right off the bat. She might as well have asked how Quinn felt about knowing that every other person she knew was most likely dead. "I didn't mean to upset you. You're the only person I can – "
"Share with," Quinn listlessly finished for her. "I get it, Rachel, but I'm not – I'm not at the point where I can talk about it. I don't know if I'll ever be there. I know it's been a long time..."
"Right," Rachel nodded again shortly, unable to keep her disappointment completely out of her tone. It wasn't that she wanted to dredge up her own painful memories or rake Quinn over the coals of hers, but the idea of being able to talk about it with someone who knew Lima – well she'd hoped maybe there might be some peace found there. Small or not, any sort of calm to her turbulent memory-fueled nightmares would be a blessing.
But she couldn't begrudge Quinn's reticence to talk about it, so they settled once more into silence.
Rachel had always prided herself on her massive vocabulary, one that didn't require her to resort to crudity to verbally lambaste someone or get her point across. However, when she saw Quinn had returned her attention back out the window and the pale hand that moved with rough quickness to swipe at a cheek, she couldn't find a single word to better sum up her feelings.
"Shit," she muttered, clutching tighter at the steering wheel to keep herself from smacking it.
All those years apart and Quinn Fabray could still reduce her to a stammering, stumbling, swearing idiot.
They stopped as the sun started its descent. Rachel and Quinn had gone the whole day without saying much of anything to each other and by the time the Bronco had rolled to a stop Rachel was already halfway out of the car and watching Quinn walk away.
She didn't even bother with hoping that Quinn might come back to try again; instead she threw herself back into her role as a leader, setting teams to work, preparing once more for the dangers of the night. One that would with any luck not bring a repeat of the previous evening.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Quinn again, waving her arms as she animatedly "discussed" something with Luz. Jealousy surged and Rachel bit down on her lip so hard she tasted the sharp tang of blood. She had no reason to expect that she and Quinn would instantly be best buddies, but it still hurt – just as it always had – to see Quinn being friendly with everyone else. Only Rachel had ever seemed to bring out that closed off, angry, defensive part of Quinn.
No doubt sensing the eyes tracking her movements, Quinn turned and stared right back, gaze lingering and heavy even across the distance.
Shaking her head, Rachel lifted a hand in a wave and then continued on her way, headed for Kevin's van.
There was already a line for food and Rachel made sure to walk up from the back, checking with each and every person to see how they were holding up. They all seemed tired, but they smiled at her, a new gleam shining in their eyes – hope for a better future now that they had some sort of plan beyond "drive to the horizon and then keep going". The children, especially, were very excited about the prospect of seeing the ocean, and they asked her all sorts of questions about sea life. Rachel did her best to answer them, having been a lover of the Discovery Channel and Animal Planet; she knew enough about dolphins and sea turtles to whet their appetites.
Finally, she made her way up to Kevin, who smiled at her in that fake way that never ceased to make Rachel's heart drop into her stomach every time she saw it. She knew what it meant but asked anyway.
"Kevin, how are things here?"
His smile actually tightened, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he bared his teeth at her in more of a grimace than a smile. "Same as always, boss. You know, it's peachy."
Rachel rubbed a hand against the back of her neck and pushed her sunglasses up her nose with the other. "Peachy" was their code word for "out of food". Kevin had picked it, of course, and he found it ironic while
Rachel found it depressing. "I'll talk to Ethan and see if we can't get a little more variety," she told him, grinning down at the little dirt smeared boy who was reaching up for his dinner. "Hey, Skyler, are you going to help me learn how to fish when we get to the coast?"
Skyler blushed, hands wrapped around his can of mystery food, and nodded shyly. Rachel held her hand out to him for a high five which he quickly delivered before racing off to join the other children gathering around Ollie for a campfire tale or two.
"Rachel," Kevin said, dragging Rachel's eyes away from the small group of orphans surrounding Ollie. He was holding a can out towards her and she stared at it for a long while before pushing it back towards him firmly. "Rachel."
"Not hungry. Thanks though," Rachel told him, quickly leaving him behind before he could chase her down and force the food on her.
She found Ethan easily enough. He often teased her about having "mad stalker skills", but the truth was she just knew him and it wasn't hard to figure out where he'd be. They were all predictable in their own ways. He looked up from the rifle he was cleaning on the tailgate of his Suburban and smirked briefly before returning his attention to the weapon. "Decided to mingle with us commoners?"
"Don't be like that," Rachel scolded, carefully perching on the tailgate and picking up the scope. "We're out of food."
"Rachel, we've been out of food for five years, but I suppose what you really mean is that we're dangerously close to the "red line"?"
Rachel curled her lip at him and pulled her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to glare at him over the top of the frames. "I'm sure I've earned some sarcasm, but I'm not in the mood."
"Too bad," Ethan grinned at her, putting the rifle down. "I think you may need to sing a little Corey Hart
'Sunglasses at Night' this evening. Love the shades, babe."
With a huff Rachel pulled her Aviators completely off and shoved them on top of her head. "Ass."
"Yes Ma'am," he nodded and reached deeper into the back of the car, prying free a tattered map from one of the various cubby holes. He spread it out carefully for both of them to look at under the dim light from the car. "God, I miss the days of Google Maps."
"It would certainly help with the whole global positioning nightmare," Rachel groused, leaning over his burly shoulder to squint down at the map. "When you find a good spot for us to try for gas and canned goods let me know. We'll hammer out a plan later."
"Are you going to consult the cool kids?" he asked, his large hands splayed out along the map, dark eyes not even bother with a glance her way.
"I'm going to talk to them, yes," Rachel sighed again and leaned her forehead down on his arm. "Try not to be so sensitive; you know you're the favorite."
"Hmph. Well, see if they have a better idea of where we are and maybe get some more details other than 'drive West' from them."
"You can ask yourself since they'll be joining us for our planning," Rachel said, holding up her hand to stop him from objecting. "Nope, it's happening. I'm not saying you have to be nice, but I'm telling you that it's happening so you can go ahead and prepare your scathing marks ahead of time."
"How kind of you," Ethan grumbled. "Fine. You're the boss, boss. Best go get your transmission done while I figure this out."
Grinning to hide her apprehension of another face off between her people and Quinn's, Rachel leaned in and kissed his rough cheek. "You're a saint, and never let anyone tell you different."
"Blah, blah, don't try to sweet talk me now," he said, shoving her away lightly. "Go on now, get."
As soon as her back was turned to him the smile slipped off her face. Rachel looked up at the darkening sky and pleaded silently with whoever was watching that things would work out. Just this once.
After sending out the transmission (with a heartfelt rendition of Michael Buble's "Home") Rachel needed some space before trying to navigate her way through what would surely be a tense meeting around the back of the Bronco. The hostility between Quinn's group and her own had diminished slightly, but there was still an obvious separation between parties. Quinn had stayed away from her after their lovely car ride, and she'd caught a couple of glimpses of her people giving the newcomers a wide berth. She could only hope that by the time they reached the coast the two groups would be able to come together, otherwise it was going to be a longer trip than anyone had anticipated. Especially if they succeeded and ended up stuck on a ship together for God knew how long until they found a suitable place to relocate.
"Busy?"
Rachel hadn't heard the approach, too lost off in her own thoughts to be paying attention. A dangerous pastime she really couldn't afford. It was careless to get so comfortable. Her body jumped, muscles coiling, knife halfway from its sheath as her head snapped up so fast it burned her neck. The figure looming behind her was like the angel of death, finally coming to claim her. You could only be lucky for so long. She relaxed almost as quickly as she'd tensed when she made out who it was that had gotten the drop on her: Quinn. Of course it was Quinn, staring down at her and stepping the rest of the way out of the shadows, a curious expression just visible.
Quinn took the single shoulder shrug that Rachel offered as an invitation to drop down into the sand beside her old schoolmate. But neither said a word, both staring into the fire, contemplating their presence in each other's lives but unable to come up with anything to say.
"I saw your movie, um, the last one. The..." Rachel said, breaking the stalemate. She hesitated, seeing Quinn's eyebrow lift. The word was there, right on the tip of her tongue. She hated that word, felt that it diminished the very real horror they were all caught up in. Zombie. "The apocalypse one."
Amused at Rachel's dodging of the 'z' word, Quinn snorted. It was so very Rachel, charming and ridiculous. "Funny, isn't it?" She jabbed the stick she'd been fiddling with into the fire, hazel eyes flashing in the shower of embers that drifted up at the harsh poke.
"Not really," Rachel said softly - carefully - mesmerized with watching those eyes burn in the reflection.
The air between them seemed to crackle with hushed energy as they fell back to silence, Quinn seemingly content to continue to prod at the fire while Rachel stared at her struggling to find the words she needed.
"I wish… I wish that I'd gotten there sooner."
It could barely be called speaking, Quinn's voice was so soft, but Rachel heard it and picked up on the guilt that laced Quinn's raspy voice. Something inside her cracked at the familiar vulnerability and her mind raced back to a similar side by side conversation in a school hallway.
"Quinn," she started, faltering as the name crossed her lips. She was unsure of what she could say – these types of conversations didn't happen often, or at all, anymore. Quinn didn't need to give further details, Rachel knew what she meant, what she was referring to, but as for responding… Quinn was broken, more so than anyone else Rachel had encountered, more than Before even. Quinn always had been just a little broken. Without pausing to think it over first Rachel reached out because her words had failed her, laying her fingers on Quinn's knee.
Quinn twitched away, recoiling and almost cowering.
Rachel drew her hand back, unsure of what Quinn was seeing in her face but she hoped it was her unspoken apology. When Quinn looked over at her, though, tears shimmering in her eyes and a small, sad, little smile on her lips reminiscent of the one she'd given Rachel after their first and only duet – the nostalgia threatened to knock the breath out of her.
She'd been unable to find anything to say to Quinn, all those years ago. Now seeing that same expression again Rachel wondered what it meant. Quinn had always been a master of secrets, but now Rachel wondered if maybe - given enough time - she might learn what it was Quinn was saying to her without a single word.
TBC...