AN: I've heard very compelling arguments for the no-pregnancy option and it would be interesting to veer off canon and other boy!Rachel fics (I still love to read them though) but I'm going to leave the poll open.
Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and follows! This fic wouldn't have grown so much without you.
Chapter 5 – Never Let It Lie
The brief display of courage drained quickly and Ray realized that he did indeed share Spanish with Finn and Quinn. Doubling back, he made it to class just in time. Not that Mr. Schuester was ever punctual.
"RAY-RAY!"
Ray winced at the nickname, but nevertheless faced Brittany with a wide grin. It was hard not to with her infinite enthusiasm and general naivety. The exuberant cheerleader greeted him with a hug attack. As usual, Santana was there to keep the hug from running longer than platonically acceptable.
"Where's Noah?" he asked seeing the empty seat on the other side of Santana's chair.
"Mr. High-As-a-Kite?" Santana replied sarcastically. "He knocked himself out trying to hide from the 'scary maths.' Lucky for his dumb ass, I managed to hide him in the janitor's closet while he sleeps some of it off."
"Are you certain that's an acceptable place for him in his current state? Perhaps the nurse's office would be better… not to mention more sanitary." Ray asked, internally guessing that whatever the answer, Santana would not move Noah.
"Uh… no. See, the only way I can get Puckerman into the Nurse's office without the nurse finding out about his little visit with the tonic lady is if I be sporting my (insanely hot) candy stripper's uniform. And cuz that little keeper is being dry cleaned at the moment-"
"Because we totally used that the other day for se-" Santana scrambled to cover Brittany's mouth before she finished.
"…Anyways, long story way too long for its own good, Puck's staying in the closet."
Brittany's face scrunched up in confusion and she removed Santana's hand, "But I thought we were staying in the closet?"
Both Ray and Brittany jumped at the sound of Santana's head hitting the desk in front of her. Santana lifted her head a bit and stared at him, eyes begging for something. Anything to assure her that everything was going to be okay. It was just a harmless slipup.
He glanced around him quickly and noticed that nobody in earshot had been paying attention then placed a hand on her forearm in reassurance.
Ray liked to think that since Noah had told Santana about his experience with bullying, it was the reason why Santana turned to him when she felt vulnerable. He had been unreasonably and unrelentingly tormented for something that Santana feared she herself would be tormented for.
And he almost lost his life for it.
Maybe all those years being ostracized for being "gay" because he was raised by two dads gave him a really developed sense of gaydar, nevertheless he knew and the only reason why he wasn't concerned about Noah's feelings on the subject was because he knew that the boy also knew and was being a good friend. Knowing Noah Puckerman, he probably thought the whole Santana/Brittany scenario was really hot.
Or maybe Ray knew because of the familiar warmth that the usually fiery and intense brunette would convey whenever Brittany was in the vicinity. It was something that he recognized from personal experience even before Quinn Fabray held as its lighter to the proverbial flame. He definitely felt that tenderness and longing to do anything to make a girl happy. Now knowing that he could never truly do that for that certain hazel (but sometimes green flecked) eyed angel… well, he was a romantic at heart and whatever Santana feels for Brittany, was something they'd make musicals about.
They shared a small, secret smile at the camaraderie before Santana rolled her eyes and smacked his hand away. "Ah, ah. You ain'tz getting handsy on my fine ass, Berry. I need your credit report first."
"S, why do penguins wear tuxedos? Shouldn't they wear comfy sweaters because it's, like, really cold where their igloos are?"
As Santana struggled to answer Brittany with a placating response, Ray took the time to relax. Their presence was a welcome distraction from the sight of Quinn getting mauled by the tree. There was an instantaneous consequence to Ray's careless interaction with Quinn. He likened it to a dog's feral defense when his territory's been threatened. A disturbing image of Hudson peeing on Quinn stopped that comparison in its tracks.
By the irate look on Quinn's face, Ray guessed that she either came to the same disgusting conclusion or Finn's smothering was actually as repugnant. Ray's ego preferred the latter option.
Still, Ray was disheartened to see that Quinn didn't look his way at all. He even tried making eye contact when she looked in his general direction… not one annoyed glance his way.
Mr. Schuester took this time to enter the class with armed with an apology and an awkward slightly racist comment followed by a strange attempt to liven up the lesson with a theme.
Surely Mr. Schue was going to use different methods for New Directions.
SPLASH!
Quinn sputtered a bit but wiped off the rest of the water from her face. Looking up from the sink, she sighed. It wasn't easy getting through Spanish class with everybody but somehow she did. Just like she got through the last week without so much as glancing at Ray Berry.
It was something she decided as soon as she left the auditorium that day.
"What's up with you, Quinn?" Finn asked in a rather tactless display of concern. "You've been kinda wacked out and humming since your free period."
"Huh?" Quinn replied eloquently. "I-I was just thinking about Christ Crusaders. We should have a meeting soon."
"Uh… yeah sure." The enthusiasm dead in his tone. "Or… we could go out tonight? Stay in? Whatever you want actually."
Finn never managed to give her butterflies whenever they were together. They never talked at length about anything that didn't involve school drama, football or Christ Crusaders. After all what could Finn Hudson have to say about the themes of family deconstruction and decay in William Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury? Would he ever share the same wonder and awe over Alice in Wonderland (the books and not the film)? What does he know about the deep history embedded in every note of classic Motown, Blues and Jazz?
Besides that he would never know that she could probably thrash his sorry plebeian ass in Mario Kart, Halo and Call of Duty. Because that wasn't what Quinn Fabray would do.
They had nothing else in common but looks and popularity, which Quinn had always thought were the only aspects needed in a relationship. It was all they really needed in all the teen movies and shows, right?
But if life were a cheesy romance movie than wouldn't a spontaneous and passion-filled dance with a stranger count as the beginning of something… great?
Of course not, she mentally scolded herself. Stop thinking about stupid, little Ray Redford Berry.
She had the power. Nobody, not the school's newest loser nor the popular jock had anything over her.
Quinn looked up her dim-witted boyfriend and smiled coyly. "How about we go to my house…"
"Yeah?" he interjected with teenage-hormone fuelled joy.
"…And go up to my room…"
"Yeah?!"
"…And plan the next celibate promoting activity for Christ Crusaders!"
"YEAH!" He threw a fist in the air and then stopped midway. "Wait, what?"
She smirked and dragged him with her. Yes, she's still got it.
And as for Ray Berry… Out of sight, out of mind.
Yeah, that worked. Now Ray was her English partner for the rest of the school year.
An argument bubbled as something inside Quinn told her that the situation wasn't as bad as she wanted it to be. That it was better that he was partnered with her than with Crazy Peppers. That it was okay to think about him and his voice… and his lips.
…And his lips on her lips.
But it wasn't okay because she had her cookie cutter life. Pristinely cut and perfected with the popularity, the power, the envious looks and the quarterback boyfriend. Except maybe now she didn't like the shape.
She gazed at her own reflection in the mirror again. Hair pulled back in the Sue Sylvester approved pony. Crisp blood red and impeccable egg-shell white. She was immaculate. She was invincible. She was-
There was a round of raucous laughter filling the halls outside the bathroom, the football team strutting the halls she guessed.
Murmurs of slushies and loser were heard through the door and for a moment she pitied the poor dweeb getting the start of the school year slushie shower but then her Sylvester alarm began to ring.
Head Bitch in charge. Quinn Fabray was the head bitch in charge and she wouldn't forget it.
McKinley's main halls were clearing out for the day but there were still plenty of students lingering by the lockers. Ray was taking his time and ensuring that nothing was missing from his knapsack.
"Yo, Frodo!"
Ray turned to commend Santana on yet another witty (yet not witty at all) cognomen but was once again the target of Brittany's assault hugs. The air was stolen from his lungs at the unexpected display of affection.
"Ray-Ray! Santana told me that you're taking us to Breadstix today!" she yelled out in his ear then she giggled, "That rhymed."
He glanced at the brunette cheerleader with a raised eyebrow, "Oh she did, did she?"
"Hells yeah, I did. Turns out your credit report is pretty solid compared to the rest of the brainless jockstraps here and can actually hold a stare without looking at my boobs, so you're taking us to gets our breadsticks on."
"Wait, how did you…"
"You don't want to know." Santana replied in a deadly tone, effectively ending any lingering curiosity.
Barely getting his locker door closed in time, Ray let the two cheerleaders drag him away. They were certainly an unusual pair of girls but Ray wouldn't trade their budding friendship for a solo.
Well, perhaps that sentiment was a little too hasty…
Santana grinned impishly and winked, "As soon as we're done with Cheerio's, you can take us to the restaurant."
"But…"
"Ah, ah. You wouldn't want to let Britts here down, would you?" Santana cautioned. Brittany was skipping ahead of the other two and looked back with a wide grin and a wave. Santana narrowed her eyes, "Would you?"
"No! Of course not! Just let me know when you're ready. I'll take this valuable time to rehearse for glee auditions."
Santana frowned, "But you didn't sign up yet."
He resisted teasing Santana as to how she knew he hadn't signed up but it seemed like something akin to poking a sleeping bear. Or tiger… or dragon. "I'm trying something different this time around. Saving my name for last. After all that's where the best goes, no?"
Santana's retort was a solid punch to his arm, followed by her infuriating display of English language massacre. "Whatever, just be ready cuz we's gonna getz our Breadstix on later."
He didn't say anything about her language use because the last time he did, she almost punched him in the nose. Instead Ray merely shook his head, letting Brittany bid him farewell with yet another hug before bounding after Santana and looping their pinkies together.
"Oh and Frodo? No talking about Fabray. We've all had enough of that sappy shit."
Only when they were out of sight and their giggling was out of earshot did Ray finally began to make his way towards the auditorium. He hoped that Brad was still there.
He was always a delightful person to converse with. And such a great listener.
The beating sun shone relentlessly on the Cheerio's but that didn't stop one Sue Sylvester from having practice outside. Of course, all of the veteran cheerleaders knew better than to complain or have heat stroke. Thankfully, Coach Sylvester always let them warm up and stretch independently. This meant that it was the only time during practice that they had to talk to each other.
"So can we keep him?" Brittany asked Santana while doing her usual splits warm up.
Santana stood up from her own stretches and gave Brittany a questioning look in response.
"Ray, S. Can we keep him? Please? He's like totally cool and funny and he wears so many animal sweaters that it's kind of like having fifty different pets in one."
She would never admit it out loud but Santana genuinely did like Ray, as much as a Head Bitch like her could like someone that is. Aside from giving her videos of Puck's performance of Cats, he was the perfect guy-friend.
Why?
The guy bakes crack-cookies. Not necessarily cookies with drugs because Berry would never do such a thing (lame) but they might as well have been special. They were orgasmic. They were vegan too, which made them adhere to the crazy diet that coach put them on. If she weren't dating his best friend and having (daily… no bihourly) sweet lady kisses with her best friend, Santana would consider marrying Ray just to have access to those cookies all the time.
He also didn't let Santana get away with her shit. Usually when that happened, she would verbally cut the guy until he was a weeping mess of flaccidy man parts. She even made Puck shed a tear during a particularly bad time of the month. Ray never seemed to get that she was a bitch with a capital B-I-T-C-H. It seemed that once he made the connection between her and Puck and then the one with her and Brittany, Ray deemed Santana as a misunderstood youth that needed ways to express herself.
It did annoy her most of the time. And then Ray would have the balls to chastise her when she was not PC or had said something really scathing. Nobody tried to stop her before and still stuck around when she did it again. This guy was a paragon of annoying know-it-all big-mouthed lightness.
Or he was that desperate for friends.
Puck filled her in on Ray's life-story months before he transferred to the school. They had both liked their fuck-buddy relationship and decided to stick with it for the next year. Once he knew that Santana was sticking around he laid out the number one rule: don't mess with Ray Berry. She hadn't met him yet but Puck assured her that if they were going to be a thing, she needed to be cool with Ray. He was Puck's Jew-Bro.
There was such a haunted look on Puckerman's face when he sat Santana down to explain that she was actually a little afraid. The fear grew as he told her of what Ray had to go through in middle school.
Deep down, she was terrified that the same thing would happen to her because of certain… feelings she had. She convinced herself that it would never happen. She made sure that it wouldn't.
"No B, sex isn't dating."
Finding out that the kid actually went to school with them now made her feel that same fear but for once not all of it was for herself. She actually wanted to protect the little guy.
He was irritatingly long-winded, cuttingly ambitious and equal parts egotistic and self-serving but somehow he manages to wear his wounded heart on his sleeve and care about the people around him at the same time.
He was a freaking Chihuahua. Who the fuck would kick a Chihuahua?
As Brittany stared up into Santana's eyes (and soul) with her own crystal blue orbs begging to keep Ray Berry (as a friend or pet, who knows?), Santana pretended to hesitate for just a second.
"…Fine, B. We can keep him."
"Hey, Jewfro!"
Jacob Ben Israel flinched, expecting anything from a slushie facial to a one-way trip to the dumpster but all he got was rough slap to the back. He opened an eye in weary curiousity.
The boorish jock lumbered over the smaller boy, "You still got your livestream blog shit?"
Jacob nodded timidly.
"Bring it to the auditorium in ten minutes. Your blog wouldn't want to miss this."
With that the jock was gone. Jacob gathered his things quickly and made his way towards the auditorium.
There was a second of sympathy for whoever was the jocks' target for public humiliation but he shrugged it off quickly.
At least it wasn't him.
The performance was his raison d'etre. The audience was his fairy dust.
And the stage? The stage was his sanctuary; the clouds that accompany him as he flies (metaphorically of course). The place in which he could both hide and reveal yourself in the most theatrical ways. It was a home away from home… away from home. (It was still confusing, getting used to calling Shelby's place home even if he did spend a year there while attending Carmel but he did consider it one.)
Brad the piano guy had just finished his set, allowing Ray to sing along if he recognized the tune. Now left alone, he sat meditatively in the centre of the stage.
He should have known the peace wouldn't last.
"HEY, BERRY!"
A fist came out of nowhere to grab Ray's sweater. He felt himself get pushed back forcefully and he caught himself before falling over.
The stage light shone too brightly for Ray to recognize the brute that shoved him but knew that escape was the only option. He made started to make his way towards the rear exit but was halted by the threatening football players walking slowly, surrounding him. All of them wore their varsity jackets, signs of their sheer authority and conceived superiority. All of them were concealing something behind their back.
The shot of fear that seized him only in his nightmares for the last year and a half was back… only this time it was reality once again. Each and every painful memory from middle school rushed back, escaping its shackles from the dark abyss to which his mind and therapist sentenced them. But now it was happening again.
"W-what do you want from me?" he choked out.
There was a string of deep barking laughter. Surround sound to his ears.
The light veered off as the guy that first approached him walked closer. It was Finn Hudson. Ray gulped and started to think that his little burst of daring earlier was a big mistake.
"Greetings, Finn and Finn's very large football-playing comrades. What brings you to the hallowed stage?" Ray chuckled nervously.
He received a silent scowl in response, forcing him to revaluate his initial impression of the boy.
Finn looked so harmless in his role as the dimwitted and undeserving boyfriend of the girl of Ray's dreams. Now he was the jealous, very tall and intimating, quarterback boyfriend of the unattainable cheerleader. It was a sad yet perpetual American cliché and one that would probably cause Ray a lot of pain topped with a daily dose of humiliation.
And maybe through his first few weeks at McKinley, Ray was asking for this. His flippant regard for Quinn's (clearly discontented) relationship, his 'I can change everything' attitude and his underhanded tactics to remove Ryerson from his position… was it karma that led him to this moment?
"I'm going to tell you this once, Berry. Stay. Away. From. Quinn."
Ray recoiled at the deadly tone. How was he going to get out of this mess?
The image of the golden-haired angel flashed through his mind and a more important question was brought to the forefront.
Would getting out unscathed mean that it will cost him the tentative acquaintanceship he managed to generate with Quinn?
"MORRIS! What the hell are you doing on my field?" Quinn Fabray, head cheerleader, was in her element. "You want to check your email and see that nobody likes you? Do it on your own time!"
Santana was more than used to ignoring the scathing screeches coming from the captain. Quinn was set to be a young Sue Sylvester after all. What was interesting about this particular incident was that Jenny Morris ignored their good captain and continued to laugh and point to her laptop screen. It had to be something good.
"What the hell is so interesting, Morris?" she asked, peeking at her screen.
Morris snickered, "My boyfriend, Duncan? He said that Hudson and the rest of the boys were going to hail the loser of the year in with the works… Best part? They got JewFro to do a livestream for the whole thing."
The rest of the Cheerios stopped pretending that they weren't listening in and tuned into to the show. Santana saw Quinn's face descend in shade until it reached a furious red. That was when she knew it would be good to watch. Anything to see if the frigid ice queen would finally snap.
"San!" Brittany's exclamation made Santana's head jerk. "It's Ray-Ray!"
Aw hell.
There on the little screen was the newest addition to Santana's circle. Ray looked like a-
"San, he looks like a scared little bunny." Brittany whispered fearfully in her ear.
¡Mierda!
An unfamiliar weight of sympathy filled Santana as she witnessed Ray's worst fears come alive again. Brittany's tight grip on her hand reminded her that he was theirs now.
Something needed to be done. If anything, Santana needed to do something to get back feeling in the hand from which Brittany was currently cutting off oxygen.
Not in the wanky way either.
"We're-" He coughed; Finn had picked him up by the lapels of his white button-up that he always wore under his sweaters. "We're just partners for English. I assure you, Finn. Quinn and I… We're not even friends."
A few seconds of tense silence lingered while Finn digested this new piece of information. Seeing as Finn's look of concentration resembled one of constipation, Ray was a bit disconcerted.
"Really?" he questioned sceptically.
Nodding fervently due to loss of oxygen was Ray's only response.
"Oh, okay." The taller boy finally let out and he let him down.
A flicker of hope sparked in Ray but was quickly blown out.
"What? That's it?" One of the other guys on the football team came up from behind and shoved Finn out of the way. "Fuck it. Come on Hudson, get your pussy-ass together and let's get this little bitch."
"Wait, guys…" Finn raised his hand as if that would have been all that was needed to stop the Neanderthals from their assault.
Unfortunately for Ray, the captain of the football team was no Moses and the slushie shower was not the Red Sea.
Quinn finally made it over to see what the fuss was all about before Coach was done with her usual pre-practice massage. The scene painted on the screen caused her to gasp, quietly but not quiet enough as Santana's attention was caught by the sound.
How could she forget?
"… I better see that Berry kid covered head to toe with color-dyed shaved ice before the week is done."
The Cheerio's sniggers and jeers at the screen that were accompanied by the matching lower registers from the football players in the video brought the weight of her actions plummeting down on her shoulders.
There would be no recovery from this… would there?
"Santana, we have to go!" Brittany cried as she pulled her other half along back towards the school. "He's needs us!"
Santana was still staring at Quinn with eyes narrowed to slits in suspicion.
"Santana!"
There was a pause before Santana gently tugged her arm away from Brittany's. She stalked over to Quinn stopping nose to nose making the head Cheerio step back.
"This is your fault isn't it?" she seethed, voice low enough that only Quinn would hear. It was just like the frigid bitch to do something like this to a loser she didn't like.
Nothing. Then a twitch. Barely noticeable but Santana knew her Captain. It was a tell. Bitch.
Quinn saw the aggressive change in body language and matched it with her own. "Why do you even care, Satan? You've known the guy for what? A week. You know his place."
"You conniving little bitch!" Santana bit back, "I had to listen to that stupid guy talk about you like you were some kind of angel for hours. You could be a bipolar, sociopathic, crippled baby-napper* and his argyle coloured ass would still worship the ground you walk on. You sent them to go after Ray, didn't you?"
"Get out of my face, S." Quinn growled threateningly. "You're supposed to be with us and if this happened to any other kid, you wouldn't even hesitate to join those girls in cheering that spectacle on."
Santana crossed her arms, looking down in a split second of shame before glaring back at Quinn. "Ah, ah, ah. See there's a difference. I ain't on anybody's side but Santana Lopez'. I'm an equal opportunity bitch cuz I'm not afraid of telling everybody that they suck."
"Yes, because that just makes it better?"
"It makes it real. Shit ain't all black and white, Princess. If I say a dude's okay then he's okay. Loser or jock. 'Sides anything I do is shitloads better than what you did to the guy."
They were both doing what they did best, denying they're real feelings, shifting blame on others and striking out at whatever targets they could find: proving why they were the best of enemies and worst of friends.
"What are you talking about?" Quinn asked incredulously.
"Giving that poor sap hope and then pulling the Carrie on him? Even I'm not that cruel… and that's saying something."
Quinn recoiled as if slapped, "Wait- no that's not what I- It happened before-"
"San, Ray needs us… Come on!" Brittany interrupted, putting a halt to whatever excuse Quinn was going to give.
She didn't need to ask permission. She was after all, Santana Lopez. Still, she sent Quinn a look, pausing on her way off the field.
Quinn responded with a borderline frantic nod towards the auditorium, saying without words: "What the hell are you waiting for? Go!"
Huh, Santana thought as she sprinted away with Brittany, the flash of concern on Quinn's face made her think that maybe the captain did have a heart somewhere… a heart that did those special skips for Berry.
It would be fun using that particular piece of info to mess with Fabray... Especially since ditching practice would mean that Quinn's knee would be digging into her back for the rest of the month.
AN: *yes that is my little season 3 criticism disguised as a good old Santana slam. And yes I know it probably doesn't make sense (but hey that's the whole season 3 Quinn storyline right? A hot mess that made no sense)
Anyways I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Again not a whole lot of Faberry but it's there bubbling. I wanted to get a look at Santana's POV with things because even though this is an AU, canon Santana a la Season 1 wouldn't be so nice without a reason.
I also wanted to make Finn more like he was in season one: he has good intentions in a way but he's altogether extremely selfish and immature. He just wants to be popular but he loves to perform. We will see the consequences to this ambush in the next chapter and how his attitude conflicts with Ray's.