Deus Ex Machina [god in the machine]

Quinn walked into the house with a sigh, letting her jacket roll from her shoulders and onto the hardwood floor, vanishing with contact. She ran her hand through her hair and tugged out a knot as she made her way past the hallway mirror. Quinn paused, as always, as she searched the mirror for hazel eyes that she hadn't seen in ten years.

She shook her head after a minute before she made her way towards the kitchen. She had already had a hell of a week, which, coupled with the incident at Rachel's house and avoiding the brunette all week, meant that now she just needed to rest. Plus, all of the best shows were on Friday night. Quinn loved her TV.

Quinn flicked her wrist as she passed the stereo on the kitchen counter, and instantly the house was full of Iron & Wine. She sighed as she glanced around the kitchen. Who knew that it would have been so hard to avoid Rachel Berry? She'd been doing it for the past ten years, yet now, Quinn couldn't seem to walk anywhere without the brunette being there. Like, the minute Quinn learned of Rachel Berry's existence, her entire world changed. The thing was, Rachel hadn't been looking for Quinn; Quinn had just continuously run into the brunette.

However, alone in her house, she realized that company, even in the form of said psychotic Smurf, was better than none at all. Quinn paused, letting out a bitter laugh; her house? She had to stop thinking that.

Wandering over to the fridge, she ghosted her fingers over the picture of her aunt and uncle that was pinned up by a McKinley football helmet magnet. "Their house," Quinn reminded herself, "their timeshare." Quinn smiled reminiscently at her family that she only saw every few months.

She shook her head, shaking herself out of those thoughts before she became depressed again. She was thankful that she had a roof over her head, whether she needed one or not, end of story. No reminiscing. Quinn pointedly ignored the picture of her, her parents and older sister that also hung on the fridge as she turned to the kitchen table. Who was she kidding? She didn't need company, she had TV. Hell, she didn't even need to eat - but eating was human, so Quinn made a point to eat three meals a day.

Quinn blinked and suddenly, before her on the kitchen table, sat a steaming bowl of stew. A smile slowly tugged at the corners of her lips as she sat down, twirling the spoon that had just appeared in her right hand. There was one thing, and one thing only, that Quinn would ever admit was cool about being a ghost: Being able to conjure up anything and everything that she could possibly want at any given moment.

Quinn ate her dinner as she let the music from the stereo wash over her. She let her mind drift as she thought back on how Rachel had acted in school that week. Quinn had thought that after Rachel had been so adamant on saying she wasn't going to leave Quinn alone that would have meant that, well, she wouldn't have left Quinn alone. Her arched eyebrows furrowed together as she realized that Rachel hadn't made even one effort to contact or look for Quinn that week. Plus, the only time Quinn had actually seen her in the library was in the music section. Okay, maybe Quinn could admit that she hadn't exactly just "bumped into" Rachel as often as she sought Rachel out.

"Wait," Quinn mumbled to herself, "I tell Rachel to leave me alone, and then I spend the whole week watching her to see why she isn't still bugging me? What's wrong with this picture?" She stood up abruptly, cursing at herself as she passed through the table. With a pointed glare, Quinn made the half-empty bowl of stew and spoon disappear from the kitchen table. "You're losing it, Fabray. Maybe you're the obsessed one, not her."

Quinn stood in silence as the stereo died down and her thoughts took over. The house remained silent as Quinn slapped her palm down onto the table in frustration. "Why did she have to be able to hear me?" Quinn cried out in frustration, "Why did someone have to be able to hear me after all this time, huh?" Quinn screamed to the heavens, running a hand through her hair and choking back a sob. "And why couldn't she have just thought that she was hallucinating," she finished in a whisper, dropping back down onto her chair.

A couple of hours passed, leaving Quinn in the same chair and her hands cradling her face as she thought. The decrepit grandfather clock a room away chimed, signaling midnight and shaking Quinn from her thoughts. "What do I do?" she whispered, dropping one hand from her cheek to palm the wooden cross hanging around her neck. "Why did you send her to me? Is this a trial? Why do I feel so connected to her? You haven't let anyone hear me or contact me for the past ten years, and all of a sudden, you throw Rachel into my life. Why, God?"

Quinn twirled the cross between her fingers as she listened to the expected silence. She never got an answer, but she never gave up asking. "One day… one day, you will make sense. If you could just give me a sign though, just anything to tell me what I'm supposed to do with this girl!"

She lifted her eyes to the kitchen window where the light from the moon was flooding through. She laughed bitterly as she felt her chest tighten, feeling completely overwhelmed. "Most people would be happy about having someone to talk to, but not me. God forbid I be normal about anything." Quinn stood up from the table and made her way to the couch, turning on the TV along the way. As she lied on the couch, her eyes slid closed. She fell asleep somewhere between Funny Girl and Sleepless in Seattle.

Rachel nestled herself against Finn, his arms encircling her waist as she lied against him in her bed. Finn had opted out of going to the usual Saturday night jock party in order to hang out with Rachel, seeing as how she'd completely immersed herself in glee club that week. "I've missed you," Finn said as he nuzzled Rachel's neck.

The brunette smiled as she worked with the DVD remote in her hand. "I didn't go anywhere, silly."

"No," he agreed, "but you have been so busy with glee this week that I barely got to see you. It's kind of nice though."

"Not getting to see me?" Rachel asked, hurt.

Finn chuckled. "No, seeing you putting all of your efforts back into glee; into your dreams, you know?"

Rachel nodded, the frown disappearing off her features as quickly as it appeared. "I suppose so."

Finn watched her twirl the DVD remote in her hand with a quizzical expression. "What's bugging you, Rach?"

Rachel turned her dark eyes onto her boyfriend as she sat to face him. "You didn't tell me the truth last week."

Finn's eyebrows rose as his gaze darted to the left. "What do you mean?"

Rachel watched Finn panic with veiled disappointment. "About the thing with my ghost. You know something about why she hasn't been around me anymore, don't you? I let it go then because I was already emotionally distraught and didn't think that I could handle whatever your explanation would have been. I want to know now, though."

Finn blinked before letting out a sigh. "Come on, Rach. We were supposed to have a nice night."

"And we will as soon as you tell me what you know. Did you do some extra research? Did you do something to offend her, somehow, and were just scared to tell me?"

Finn felt the guilt build up in his stomach as his girlfriend rambled out excuses for him. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "No, it… wasn't like that. I uh, talked to her."

Rachel's mouth dropped open in shock as her breathing hitched. "She - she spoke to you?"

Finn quickly shook his head. He drew in a deep breath before continuing. "Truth is, I set a little trap for her before school a couple weeks ago. I just wanted to get her attention so I could talk to her. Hell, I didn't even know if I was talking to anyone… but the air got all cold, and the little hairs on the back of my neck rose so I assumed it was her." Rachel said nothing, so Finn hesitantly continued. "I-I was missing you, a lot, and I thought you'd become a little too obsessed with finding out how to help her and wanting to know all about her and stuff. I mean, she is dead, it's not like you can do anything -"

"Finn," Rachel bit out in frustration, "you're digressing. Get back to your point."

"I told her to leave you alone. I said I wanted you back, and I figured she didn't want you bugging her anyway. So, I told her to go away."

Rachel retracted from Finn as if she'd just been burned by fire. Her eyes squinted in anger as she shook her head in disbelief. "Finn I can't… I cannot believe that you went behind my back like this. I can't believe you had the audacity to undermine something that I believed in so wholeheartedly."

"That's the thing Rachel," Finn interrupted, loudly, "you could be talking to the friggan air for all we know! This could all be in your mind! You think you're psychic, but you could just be imagining all of this!"

Rachel's mouth snapped shut as she leaned backwards in shock. Finn closed his eyes as he immediately regretted his words. When he opened them, he saw tears welling up in his girlfriend's eyes. "You saw things, Finn. You saw and felt things."

Finn shook his head slowly. "I could have just been caught up in the moment. We were in a dark school, all alone, I was already scared."

Rachel attempted to blink back the tears that were already coursing down her cheeks. "You think I'm crazy."

"I think you're not acknowledging the fact that there could really just be nothing there… you just… really want there to be something, or someone; a ghost… and so you're seeing things that maybe aren't what you think they are."

Rachel fixed Finn with a hollow look, her chocolate eyes completely devoid of any emotion. "You need to leave."

Finn desperately grasped for straws as he sat up from Rachel's headboard. "No, please Rachel I'm just-"

"Get out Finn, now, before I call my fathers up here to physically remove you." Rachel stood up from the bed and smoothed out her skirt, not taking her eyes off Finn.

The jock hung his head as he stood up and grabbed his coat. Finn paused in her doorway, however, and turned back to the brunette. "I think you need help, Rachel," he gently whispered, "I can't get through to you anymore."

A ghost of a smile played on Rachel's lips as more tears slid down her face. "And I think you need a new girlfriend, Finn. Maybe one who isn't so crazy."

Finn's face remained expressionless as he stared into Rachel's eyes a moment longer before turning and leaving.

Rachel jammed her tiny hands into the pockets of her red pea coat. November had brought an unusual chill to Lima, and the nights were far colder than the days were. It took Rachel five minutes to realize she needed a walk after kicking Finn out. She laughed bitterly into the night air. She hadn't just kicked him out; she'd broken up with him.

She wandered down the suburban neighborhoods around her house, letting the cold air numb her. It wasn't late by Lima standards, so most people were still awake. Rachel blinked back the tears that the cold wind brought on as she lost herself in her thoughts. She loved to walk, it relaxed her and gave her a chance to lose herself in her thoughts and not be distracted by the daunting feelings that the Broadway playbills that hung on her walls brought her.

Rachel rounded a corner, wincing from the light of a streetlight. Was she crazy? She paused mid-step. Was she? No. She shook her head vehemently before walking again. She'd had conversations with her spirit. Rachel had never shown hallucinatory symptoms of madness before, and that wasn't something that just happened to people. Besides, she'd seen her spirit do things. The bathroom door hitting her in the face was just as real as when her spirit had flung Rachel's notebook across the room at her. She wasn't crazy. "I'm not crazy," she whispered into the night air.

"Sure about that, Berry?"

Rachel shrieked, whirling around and pulling out her pepper spray from her pocket. "Who's there?" She focused in and squinted her eyes in the direction she heard a low chuckle from. "Noah Puckerman, is that you?"

Rachel heard another laugh as she watched Noah pull himself up and over a wooden fence that led to someone's backyard, an unopened bottle of Smirnoff in his hand. Rachel dropped her mouth in shock as she stamped her foot on the cement. "Noah! Did you just rob that house?"

The taller, mohawked boy grinned cheekily at her as he used his free hand to dust the dirt off his jacket. "You bet I did, babe. What are you doing just walking around in the dark? Shouldn't you be with that boyfriend of yours?"

Rachel scrutinized her miscreant friend from glee club. "I broke up with him."

Noah looked from the bottle of vodka in his hand, back up to Rachel, before holding up the bottle and smiling. "Wanna forget about him?"

Rachel half smiled as she rolled her eyes. "No thank you, Noah. I'm just out for a walk to clear my mind."

Noah pursed his lips as he rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Berry. If you're not in, I'm going to hit up a party and land me some Cheerios." He paused, looking over Rachel's shoulder and furrowing his eyebrows together. Rachel turned, slowly following his gaze with her eyes.

The brunette turned fully when she saw the house across the street. It was the house that she always used as a reference point to make her way back home; it was the house with the giant, beautiful cherry tree in front of it. "I didn't know the Fabrays were back in town," she heard from next to her.

"Pardon?" Rachel asked, turning to look at her friend.

Noah shrugged, facing the house with all of its lights on. "The Fabrays. That's their timeshare, but they only come for the summers, I wonder why they're back now. Or… maybe it's the ghost," he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he lowered his voice. "They say a ghost inhabits the place, making all of these horrible noises and scaring away anyone who comes near the place. The Fabrays refuse to comment on it."

Noah watched Rachel, hoping he'd scared her. Rachel watched the house in silent wonder, a small smile beginning to form on her face. When he heard nothing from her, he sighed, clapping a hand onto her shoulder. "It's just a scary story, Berry. I was hoping you'd jump into my arms and let me comfort you. I'm sure the Fabrays are just back for the holidays or something."

Rachel shook herself out of her thoughts and turned to him. "You shouldn't spread rumors like that, Noah. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to finish my walk. Don't forget to practice your song for glee next week."

Noah rolled his eyes as he patted Rachel on the back. "Sure thing, short-stack. Be careful out there. See ya around." He turned and pulled his leather coat tighter as he walked away in the opposite direction of Rachel.

Rachel watched him round the corner before she turned and faced the house across the street. What possessed her to walk across that street and knock on that door, Rachel never figured out. After three knocks, the music she had been hearing from inside abruptly shut off. She bit her lip in fear as she took a step back, keeping her fingers wrapped around the pepper spray in her pocket. "What in the hell am I doing?" she mumbled to herself, not hearing any footsteps inside.

Quinn heard the knocking on the door and froze, the bowl of ingredients she had been working on disappearing from the counter. She shut the music off and in an instant, shut off every light in the house. It had been months since anyone had come knocking on her door. Quinn walked through the door and sucked in a breath. There in front of her was the very bane of her existence, looking absolutely terrified.

"You have got to be kidding me," Quinn blurted out, clamping her hands over her mouth as soon as the words escaped her. She groaned as she watched Rachel's eyes widen in realization.

"I knew it was you. My dear friend Noah Puckerman told me that some terrifying ghost apparently haunted this place. Obviously he was just trying to get into my pants, ironically enough because I'm wearing a skirt, but he unknowingly helped me and -"

"Shut up," Quinn bit out, cutting the brunette off. "Just, shut up. Get in here, now. The door's unlocked."

Rachel beamed, making sure to check behind her before she twisted the doorknob and made her way into the dark house.

The first thing that Rachel thought was that the house didn't smell musty like she'd imagined a ghost's house would. She walked carefully down the dark hallway, gently biting her lip in nervousness before quietly calling out, "I-I would appreciate a little bit of light, spirit. I'm already quite nervous as is, I'm sure you can imagine."

Rachel paused, hearing an exasperated groan before all of the lights came on simultaneously. Rachel blinked, adjusting to the light before moving down the hall. "Spirit, it's rude to invite someone into your house and then ignore them."

She whirled to the right as she heard a short laugh being barked out from the kitchen. "I didn't invite you anywhere, Berry. You showed up on my doorstep," Rachel bit her lip, her entire body humming with both excitement and slight fear as she followed the spirit's voice, "and it's not like I can just let you stand out there. That would draw unwanted attention, which you seem to be amazing at doing."

Rachel scoffed lightly as she walked into the bright kitchen. The entire house had been done in soft colors, and Rachel smiled at the pictures on the fridge. The brunette couldn't hold back her smile as her thoughts raced in her mind. This was it! This was the chance she'd been waiting for since the first time she made contact; just being able to sit and speak with her spirit!

She blinked, taking a staggering step backwards as she heard snapping in front of her face. "Were you even listening to me?"

Rachel beamed in the direction of the voice as she shook her head. "Not at all, spirit. I apologize, but this is incredibly thrilling and yet overwhelming for me. You see, I've been waiting for this opportunity for a while."

"To what, break into my house and harass me? I thought I told you to leave me alone," Rachel heard from next to the sink.

"And if you recall correctly, I distinctly told you that I wasn't going to do that," Rachel answered briskly, unbuttoning the buttons on her jacket. She felt a rush of cool air and heard another heavy sigh.

"Why are you taking off your jacket?"

Rachel smiled to herself as she sat down in a chair and crossed her legs. "You could have just as easily told me to leave, spirit, and I would have left. Yet, you invited me in, that must mean some part of you wanted me here." Rachel paused as she waited for an answer. Not getting one, she continued. "I'm sure you're wondering why I was out for a walk by myself on a Saturday night. Much less, in the very neighborhood you just so happen to live in."

Rachel's eyes traced the kitchen casually before she heard a scoff and a snapped "not really" from the chair across the table from her. The brunette smiled softly as she ducked her head.

"I broke up with my boyfriend tonight," she whispered, chancing a glance across the table, only to see an empty chair. Rachel furrowed her brow as she paused, taking in the fact that an empty chair, albeit wasn't really empty, but, regardless, was serving as a better listener than any of her so called "friends" would have been in that moment.

There was a pause before Rachel heard, "You mean that dopey quarter back?" Rachel nodded once. "You broke up with him, or he broke up with you?"

Rachel glared as folded her hands over her crossed legs. "I broke up with him, thank you very much. He called me crazy for this whole spirit thing."

"Aren't you, though?" Rachel whipped her face towards the direction of the sink.

"You move incredibly quickly, how do you do that?" the brunette questioned, glancing back to the chair that her ghost had just been in.

"I walk. Answer my question."

Rachel blinked, honestly not remembering the question she had been asked, losing herself in picturing how a ghost could possibly walk. "Could you please repeat the question?" She bit back a laugh as she heard an exaggerated groan. Her ghost had quite the temper. Wait. Rachel's eyes dropped as she wondered when exactly she had started referring to the spirit as hers.

"Oh my God, you're still not listening to me. You come here for whatever reason, tell me about your break-up as if I actually care, and then you don't even listen to me. Maybe this is why I never talked to you before!"

"I highly doubt that," Rachel responded smoothly, raising her eyes up to the sink again. "I think you were afraid to talk to me. I think you still are." Silence. Rachel continued, her voice much softer this time, "If it helps, I'm afraid, too. Is it sad that I feel more comfortable talking to you than anyone else?"

"Yes."

Rachel turned to face the chair on her left. "So be it. At least I can take solace in the notion that I'm clearly not crazy or delusional in any way."

"How do you know?" she heard, from the same spot, "I mean this could all be one giant hallucination. You could be lying, out cold, on the pavement outside after having a seizure and now you're hallucinating all of this."

Rachel's eyebrows rose as she chuckled. "Goodness, you really aren't used to human contact, are you?"

Quinn leaned forward in her chair, her bangs falling into her face as she gaped at Rachel. "At least I have an excuse to be socially awkward, or whatever everyone calls it now."

Quinn watched Rachel perk up at her words, leaning forward herself to ask, "You said 'whatever everyone calls it now' which leads me to infer that you aren't from this time period, am I right?"

Quinn slowly cocked an eyebrow. "I just insulted you."

"I'm taking that to mean that I'm correct."

Quinn bit her lip in frustration and blinked herself to in front of the sink, not liking how close Rachel was leaning in to her. "Well don't, because you're wrong." Rachel furrowed her brows and opened her mouth to speak again when Quinn cut her off. "Don't you get it?" she practically yelled, "Don't you understand? This isn't normal! You can't just come in here and expect to sit down and have a normal conversation with me!"

Rachel dropped her eyes as confusion danced across her features. She raised her eyes towards Quinn directions before honestly asking, "And why not? You're human, humans communicate by speaking and conversing. I would assume since apparently no one else can hear you, you'd enjoy a nice conversation with the one person who can."

Quinn stood rooted in the middle of the kitchen, her eyes wide with shock. Human. Rachel called her human. As tears welled up in her eyes, she watched Rachel worry her bottom lip between her teeth. "I-I'm sorry if I was incorrect just now. Perhaps it's not that you don't wish to converse with anyone, perhaps it's just that you don't wish to converse with me. See, I just assumed that your hostility towards me was because I was butting into your personal affairs, or so you thought, but maybe you just don't like me. If that's the case then, I'm sorry spirit, for-"

"Quinn," the blond whispered, her own name both feeling and sounding unfamiliar to herself as it rolled off of her tongue for the first time in ten years, "my name i-is Quinn. Quinn Fabray."

Quinn watched Rachel's features move from awestruck to realization as the brunette stood up. She grew skeptical as the brunette paused in front of her, and it was only then that Quinn saw the unshed tears in Rachel's eyes. "Quinn Fabray…"

The ghost sucked in a breath. God it sounded nice hearing Rachel say her name. Then again, it would probably sound nice hearing anyone say it.

"I'm truly honored to officially meet you, then, Quinn Fabray," Rachel said, smiling softly.

Quinn, eyebrow cocked and, with tears falling down her face, stood stock still as she drank in Rachel's appearance. She noticed the way the brunette's eyes seemed to sparkle and the way her bangs fell across the scar on her forehead that Quinn had noticed during their second encounter in the bathroom. Who was this girl? Quinn took a few steps backward, bracing her hands against the sink counter. "What do you want from me?" she whispered in a hoarse voice.

Rachel's small smile dropped from her lips slowly as her eyes searched the room, looking for an answer that Quinn didn't think even she knew. "I don't know," Rachel whispered back, equally as quiet, "I've been trying to figure that out since you slammed a restroom stall door into my face." Quinn watched Rachel make her way back to the kitchen chair, smooth her skirt, and sit back down. "Nothing has been the same since I met you, though. It's almost as if I'm on autopilot, like I'm being constantly driven to do something I just - I just don't know what."

Quinn caught a breath as Rachel lifted her eyes and met Quinn's - It still freaked her out how the little diva always managed to do that. "I feel like we're connected, somehow…" Rachel breathed out, dropping her gaze again, "Like, I was born… to help you." Quinn watched Rachel laugh bitterly. "How idiotic does that sound? I'm really sorry, Quinn, for bugging you. And for apparently scaring you. I'm not here to hurt you, honestly, I just feel so incredibly connected to you…" Quinn watched the brunette curl her fingers, making a silent gesture that Quinn understood as frustration.

The worst part about this, Quinn thought, was that she understood where Rachel was coming from. Quinn couldn't let Rachel have that yet, though. "What if you tried? You know, going back to your life and being normal."

At this, Rachel perked up, smiling. "That's the beauty of it! A week or so ago I took a walk to the park and re-evaluated my life. I've actually created a perfect balance between every day life and the tasks involved that will eventually lead me to stardom, and-"

"Obsessing over me," Quinn finished dryly.

Rachel pursed her lips. "That's not what I was going to say, Quinn. I am not some Edward Cullen figure, that relationship was certainly unhealthy." Quinn let out a genuine laugh, giving Rachel silent props in her head. Hearing Quinn laugh, Rachel smiled herself. "I was just saying I've brought balance back into my life. I feel better. But that doesn't mean I'm giving up on helping you."

"What if I don't need help?" Quinn whispered.

Rachel thought over that for a minute before shrugging helplessly. "I don't know. I honestly don't know."

There was silence in the kitchen after that for a few minutes as Quinn silently watched Rachel grow restless and start to putter about and search the cabinets. The blond watched Rachel run her fingers over the family pictures on the fridge; and Quinn watched on in envy as the picture's bent under Rachel's touch. She watched Rachel's fingers move over her mother's face, then her father's. Rachel's ministrations paused, however, right before she touched Quinn's face.

"Did you love him?" Quinn asked from her spot, now on the counter, in an attempt to distract Rachel from asking about the pictures. Or so she told herself. Why would she care if Rachel had loved him or not?

The brunette turned to face Quinn, a wistful smile playing on her lips. Her fingers left the pictures as she turned, and Quinn let out a relieved sigh. "Did I love Finn? Yes, I did… but not as in I was "in love" with him," Rachel added, air quoting. "I came close, though, I think. He really is a good guy."

Quinn arched an eyebrow. "He thinks you're insane."

"Well, minus that little unfortunate incident."

"Do you want to get him back?"

Quinn watched something come over Rachel, something akin to conviction before her gaze softened again. "No, I don't. There's a part of me that wants to because he's Finn," Rachel said, as if that would just explain something. "But I broke up with him, so it wouldn't make sense for me to want to get him back. Nor would I take him back if he came crawling back to me on his giant, oaf-like football kneepads," Rachel said bitterly, before calming down again.

Quinn stared at Rachel, an eyebrow cocked as she let out a laugh. "You are kind of crazy, aren't you?"

Rachel turned an amused look on Quinn, showing off her teeth in a genuine smile, and for a minute, Quinn was taken aback by how gorgeous Rachel could be. When she wasn't trying to butt into Quinn's life and give her life lessons on how to not be a delinquent ghost, that is. "I'm not crazy, Quinn, simply incredibly goal driven."

Winter break snuck up on Rachel that year; between glee club, schoolwork, avoiding Finn, and Quinn, Rachel could barely keep track of days. Hiram, Rachel's Jewish father, cautiously poked his head into his daughter's room at 6:15 a.m. that Monday morning. "Rachel, why are you on your elliptical?"

Rachel furrowed her brow under her pink headband, not stopping her movements, "Father, you've been living with me for sixteen years and you're just now questioning my before school customs?"

The shorter man laughed, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I'm well aware of all of your customs, Rachel, what I'm not aware of is why you're up doing them when you're on winter break."

Rachel gasped as she hastily hit the "stop" button on her elliptical. "It's winter break?" Hiram nodded slowly. "I have approximately two to three weeks off of school?" He nodded again, slowly raising his eyebrows. "Do you know what this means, father?" Hiram shrugged helplessly, silently wondering why he had volunteered to tell his daughter that she had no school. "It means I get to spend this time evenly divided between spending time with my ghost and training the glee club all day instead of just in our hourly practices!" She grabbed her towel and ran past the stunned man, hugging him quickly as she made her way to the bathroom.

Hiram shook his head as the whirlwind known as his daughter made her way past him. He rubbed his temples as he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, sitting down across the table from his husband, Leroy. The bigger man raised his eyes to watch his husband across from him, "I take it she took the news poorly?"

Hiram shook his head, reaching for a glass of orange juice. "Quite the opposite, actually. She was thrilled that she would be able to spend time with her ghost and train the glee club with no time constraints."

Leroy chuckled deeply, returning his gaze to the newspaper in his hands. "Do you think we should be worried about the ghost thing?"

Hiram paused in thought before shaking his head. "No, I don't think so. Whatever she's in contact with doesn't seem to be evil, from what she's told us. Worse comes to worse, we'll go to the house with her and see for ourselves."

Leroy nonchalantly took a sip of coffee, his eyes still on the paper. "I have a feeling we'll be meeting her soon, anyway."

Rachel strode purposefully down the street outside, her Mary Janes crunching against the snow on the sidewalk. She pulled her jacket closer around her as she made her way past the street sign for Dudley Road. A smile graced her lips as she walked up the three steps of the Fabray porch, rapping her knuckles against the door three times.

She cocked her head lightly, listening for the expected -

"Don't you have any other friends?"

There it was. Rachel smiled, primly opening the front door and striding inside, locking the door behind her. "Does that mean we're friends?"

She heard an amused "no" from the living room. The brunette followed the voice, taking off her jacket and hanging it on the coat rack before leaving the hallway. She smoothed her green houndstooth skirt before sitting down on the ivory colored couch. "What are you watching?"

Rachel heard a sigh from the other end of the couch before, "The Human Monster."

Rachel scrunched her nose at the grotesque black and white images on the screen before her. "How old is this?"

"It's from the 1930's. I like old films, okay?"

Her lips drew together to form a straight line as she ducked her head, glancing towards Quinn's direction. "I wasn't judging you, I apologize."

"Whatever. I'm really hoping you didn't come over here today to watch movies with me. Although, it would be a nice break from you trying to get information out of me like you've been doing every day for the past week."

Rachel smiled, racking her eyes over the classical furniture in the living room. "While I would not mind watching movies with you, horror movies are not exactly my forte. Why do you watch them?"

There was a beat of silence before Rachel heard, "It comforts me to be reminded that not all monsters are real."

Rachel's gaze softened as she whipped her head around to face Quinn's direction. Her voice was soft as she whispered, "You're not a monster, Quinn."

There was another beat of silence before Quinn's whisper broke the stillness. "I didn't mean me."

Quinn watched Rachel's eyes widen in realization. The brunette's mouth open and closed as she tried to find the right words. "You-you mean… there are others here, besides you?"

Quinn pursed her lips as she stared hard at Rachel. The little diva had become far too comfortable around Quinn lately: coming to her house regularly and asking questions that Quinn had a hard time avoiding. It was unnerving, and Quinn was terrified that she had passed the point where she could get rid of Rachel like she had wanted to. Quinn was terrified she was past the point of wanting to get rid of Rachel. But, maybe… maybe if Rachel knew the truth about the horrors that surrounded Quinn, she would finally be scared off and Quinn's life could go back to normal. She cringed. Her life; well, her afterlife.

"Yes."

Rachel scooted closer to Quinn; her interests had clearly been peaked. "Are they like you? Do you speak to them or spend time with them?"

Quinn bit her lip, nervously looking around the room. She wasn't sure if talking about them would be a good idea, she didn't want to lure them out. It was broad daylight though, so maybe it would be fine. Maybe. "They're… not like me, Rachel. I avoid them at all costs." Confusion flashed across Rachel's brown eyes before Quinn continued. "I call them Ombra; they're… demons, bad spirits, I guess. They're… terrifying," Quinn whispered, her voice choking on fear as she remembered her last encounter with them.

"Ombra," Rachel whispered. Quinn shook herself out of her thoughts as she looked into Rachel's eyes, listening. "Do they haunt you?"

Quinn swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched Rachel's eyes search for her own. She shook her head slightly, wincing at the burning in her chest at seeing the worry in Rachel's eyes. "Not haunt, hunt." Rachel gasped, and Quinn smiled bitterly. Good, this would scare her away. It had to. "Their single goal is to drag my spirit down to hell."

"Oh, Quinn" Rachel breathed, her hand reaching out to Quinn before she snapped it back in realization. Quinn's gaze moved from Rachel's hand, back to her eyes. Suddenly, Quinn was overwhelmed by the sympathy radiating off Rachel. Quinn wanted more. She wanted to drown her worries and her pain in Rachel's sympathy. She hadn't known any form of caring in years and now this girl - who really should be running - was sitting there, staring at her - through her - as if she cared about Quinn.

"They're horrible. They can turn into any shape and form; most of what they choose to turn into aren't things you'll ever even be able to comprehend." She watched Rachel bite her lip and nod for Quinn to continue. "I've gotten good at being able to judge when they're coming. I hide from them, and I pray… I pray until I can feel that they've left."

Rachel arched an eyebrow. "You pray?"

Quinn's head snapped up. "Of course I pray. There's nothing else I can do."

"And is it enough…?" Rachel asked, carefully.

Quinn was silent for a moment, studying Rachel's face, before whispering, "Sometimes. Sometimes they get in, anyway. They invade my mind, and…" she drops her voice even lower, and Rachel leans in closer to hear her, "and sometimes they win." Quinn scoffs lightly, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Sometimes I think they won years ago, and that this is hell and now they're just torturing me for fun."

Quinn wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her worn T-shirt, looking at Rachel. The blond's eyebrows rose as she saw tears in Rachel's eyes. "Are you okay?"

Rachel wiped her cheeks with shaky fingers as she nodded. "I had no idea, Quinn… that's… terrifying. I could never imagine-"

"And you never want to," Quinn interrupted harshly, "In fact, you should just leave now. You don't want to be a part of this hell. I told you to leave when you had the chance; well, you have no excuse now. Stop meddling in this, Rachel, you can't handle it."

Quinn groaned inwardly as Rachel's eyes blazed. "If you think I'm leaving you alone now, Quinn Fabray, you're out of your mind."

The blond's mouth sagged as she knit her brows together. "I'm not the one who's out of her mind!"

"I have my doubts about that," Rachel said promptly before standing up and making her way into the kitchen.

Quinn gaped at the brunette's back as she hissed out, "For God's sake!" She lifted her eyes to the ceiling and gestured wildly towards the kitchen. "What are you trying to pull here? God, you're sick sometimes." Quinn got up and stomped off silently towards the kitchen when she heard the cabinets being tossed open and something about there not being any vegan friendly canned goods in the house. Quinn scrunched her face in confusion as she mumbled, "And what in the hell is a vegan?"

Rachel made her way into her house later that night, absent mindedly dropping her coat onto her bed and kicking off her shoes. She had called all of the glee members that day before she had gone to Quinn's, in hopes that she could get everyone's schedules for the break and draw up one large, color-coded schedule for vocal practices. However, none of them had answered their phones.

Rachel sat in her desk chair in the dark, flipping open her cell phone and wincing against the blue light that illuminated her face. She stared at the screen for a few more seconds before gently closing the phone again, turning, and setting it on her desk. No new messages. No one had returned her call that day. She shrugged to herself as she ran her fingers through her hair. Maybe they were all busy. It was, after all, only the first day of break. There was plenty of time for her fellow glee clubbers to get back to her. Rachel bit her lip as she got up and slid her sweater over her head, getting ready to change into her pajamas. Try as she might, she could not shake the nagging thought in the back of her mind that told her no one would call her back.

So be it, Rachel thought, as she buttoned up her yellow flannel pajamas. If her friends were going to be obstinate and not take their vocal lessons seriously, Rachel would just have to go to their houses one by one and diligently talk them into realizing how atrocious it really was to not train their voices ritualistically.

Rachel sat down at her computer and spent the next two hours diligently creating a Power Point. She highlighted each member specifically; reminding Puck on his slide that most famous Jewish singers had to put in hours a day on their vocals, reminding Santana that she could only vocally keep up with Brittany if she practiced for at least three hours a day, reminding Finn that while their breakup was difficult to handle, they were the captains and as such had to not let their dislike for each other taint team practices.

Rachel smiled at her finished product before shutting down and putting her laptop in her gold star carrying case. Tomorrow, she would make the rounds and encourage each member of the team to help her create the practice schedule for break. Rachel knew, she just knew, that once they had heard her out, they would want to help her get the team ready for sectionals.

However, when Rachel laid down in her bed that night, that voice in the back of her mind was still telling her that the team wouldn't want anything to do with her. Rachel groaned into her pillow. She hated that voice… She hated it because it was always right. That didn't mean Rachel wouldn't hope. These were her friends, and friends stuck together. They were a family now.

Rachel clung to that thought, smiling softly as she drifted off to sleep, wondering if Quinn ever sang like Rachel did. Could ghosts sing? She didn't see why not.