"Baby needs a brand new pair of eyes.

Cause the ones you got now see only goodbyes"

- Sadly Beautiful

"Quinn? Wake up". Hazel eyes struggled to open as she heard a familiar voice that should not however be present in her room. "Rachel?", she said, rubbing her eyes and trying to make sense of her surroundings.

"Your mom let me in", Rachel said with a smile that reached her eyes. "It's a beautiful spring day. I thought we could spend time at the park."

Quinn grabbed a pillow to cover her face and started speaking which resulted to a muffled whine.

The brunette crinkled her nose and tried removing the pillow. "Are you speaking Klingon again?"

"I said", Quinn huffed when the diva successfully removed the fluffy article on her face. "I don't wanna"

Rachel blinked and carried a deadpan expression at Quinn's display of petulance. "Wow, Santana wasn't kidding when she said you're cranky in the morning", Rachel said evenly.

"It's not even morning, yet"

"It's seven a.m"

"Is it a Saturday?"

"Yes, so?"

"THEN IT'S NOT YET MORNING!"

Quinn jerked a bit when her alarm went off. She blindly reached from where the sound was coming from and grabbed her phone, quickly turning it off. She felt disoriented, like waking up from a dream only to realize she is still dreaming. She swore she heard Rachel's voice. But when she had collected her bearings and scanned the modern Japanese interiors of the room, reality struck her hard. It's been three days that she's in Santana's apartment. In that instant, her heart fell; her throat began constricting and felt the urge to throw up. Gripping the sheets underneath her, Quinn closed her eyes and began her breathing exercises – something she has learned from therapy to address her panic attacks as an aftermath of the accident – and thought of Beth. The thought of her little doppelganger always made her feel calmer.

After a few minutes, Quinn finally mustered the courage to get up and immediately caught sight of her reflection through the dresser mirror beside the bed. "God, I look awful", she muttered and instinctively combed her hair with her fingers. Wallowing in grief, however, was cut short as her ears perked up to the sound of something being fried coming from the kitchen area. The thought of Santana's cooking was enough for Quinn to get up without a struggle. If she's going to be depressed, she's determined to be depressed on a full stomach. Bless her best friend's heart, she thought to herself. Santana's in for a difficult time but the Latina seems to shrug it off as payback from helping her recover from her own break up with Britt.

"Good timing, Fabray", Santana smirked without turning around to look at Quinn who slumped over the counter sleepily. "Grab us plates and whatever"

Quinn groaned but nodded and obediently reached for a couple of plates, utensils and coffee mugs and carelessly placed them on the counter top that earned her an eye-roll and glare from the shorter girl. "Britt-Britt gave those to me, so I dare you break them, Quinn."

Quinn's eyes widened and sheepishly muttered an apology as she traced the Speedy Gonzales and Slowpoke Rodriguez designs on the two mugs. "She never really cared about the political incorrectness of that show", Santana chuckled after noticing Quinn's curious expression on the cartoon character choices. "She says she's Slowpoke Rodriguez", Santana added with a sigh.

"Nothing slow about Britt", Quinn added reassuringly. "You sure it's okay for me to use this?" She lifted the Slowpoke mug whose ownership became obvious.

Santana nodded. "You're the closest thing to having a sister", the Latina said while flipping the pancakes. "An annoying one, if I may add", she laughed, "So anything that belongs to Britt, you can use while you're here", she ended with a wave not particularly aimed at anything.

"Okay", the blonde mumbled while pouring coffee on her newly assigned mug in the Lopez apartment. She should have felt honored with her best friend's gesture, but she wasn't in the mood to celebrate. The token act of letting her use things that once belonged to Brittany meant that Santana had mentally prepared for Quinn's most likely permanent stay in her apartment.

Quinn sighed as she returned to her seat while the Latina moseyed over with pancakes and sausage on hand. "We should talk about my cost of living share", Quinn finally said. Nothing was really verbally arranged between the two of them. When she told Santana of her situation, the dark-haired girl opened her doors without questions asked. But now, with that simple statement, everything is out in the open and it tore Quinn's whole being.

Santana waved her hand dismissively. "Daddy dearest pays for the mortgage. We can share utility bills if you're being extra generous. But grocery should be fine, Quinn." Santana eyed the girl in front of her carefully as she nodded in response and sipped her coffee. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been trampled on by a dozen elephants", was Quinn's quick and refreshingly honest response. There's no point hiding with Santana. The girl read her like a book and would never accept any crappy answer from the other. "You know what makes this extra frustrating?"

Santana quirked her eyebrows and waited for Quinn to continue.

"I've been thinking last night, about what women normally do after a huge break up. You know drastic things to represent a major change? And I've pretty much done everything before."

The Latina pursed her lips and hid her amusement through her mug as she found the blonde's aggravation particularly amusing. Clearing her throat, she decided to humor Quinn. "Like what?"

"Hair cut? Check", Quinn stated while she stabbed the poor sausage to death. "Change the color of my hair? Check. A tattoo? Check", she finished with a slight cringe at the memory of how painful it was to remove her Ryan Seacrest tattoo.

"One night stand with a manwhore that resulted to pregnancy? Check", Santana guffawed.

Quinn glowered but chuckled afterwards. "Switch sexuality?"

"Check", they said in unison with a laughter that bounced off the walls. "All this before 21", Santana quipped then raised her mug. "S'proud of you."

Quinn quirked the left corner of her lips and stared at her food. "Maybe I should take up bungee jumping or sky diving". Santana merely shrugged at this. "Or you can go out with me tonight and find a hot girl to have angry sex with. You had a one-time thing with Puck. About time you whore it out with a woman. I swear you won't get pregnant this time."

"I just broke up with her, Santana". Quinn was pointing out the obvious while avoiding acknowledging Rachel's name. "That's kind of the point, Q. And don't think I didn't notice you flat-out rejecting my suggestion", the Latina smirked.

Quinn never admitted it publicly, but Santana was pretty much the Oprah of her life. She worried about the appropriateness of the timing but "whoring it out", as the Latina eloquently described it, might just be what she needs right now. Her grief had been slowly turning into anger now that that the shock had been wearing off. Socializing outside the confines of her school was something that Quinn had shunned since she started in Fordham. For a good year while in Baruch, she had avoided acquiring friends completely. Her life revolved around school and home, with occasional dinners with Santana and Kurt. Her therapist had called it out as part of her manifested PTSD – the fear of stepping out of her comfort zone.

That had been a major source of strain with Rachel. The brunette immediately felt at home in New York, where for the first time, she felt genuine acceptance and not just tolerance. The confidence boost was quite evident as Rachel found herself crossing different circle of friends while Quinn remained distant and detached from the metropolitan life. The small diva was outgrowing her at a rapid pace, and Quinn failed to read the writings on the wall.

Quinn rummaged through her bag to find her apartment keys then paused as she heard boisterous laughter inside their apartment. She sighed then composed herself knowing Rachel has brought home some of her friends from NYADA. Kurt was more than welcomed, but Quinn was never keen on her girlfriend's other schoolmates invading their personal space. Her apartment shared with Rachel is one she considered an extension of their intimacy, and for that, she never understood why the brunette was too open to accepting visitors.

She channeled Judy Fabray and immediately acted like the good housewife she planned to be as she walked in with a plastered smile on her face.

"Hey, Quinn", Rachel quickly stood up and hugged the blonde at the hallway while everyone waved at her. "Hope you don't mind having them over for dinner", she whispered then kissed Quinn's neck, knowing fully that this was her girlfriend's weak spot.

The blonde closed her eyes to avoid eye contact with Rachel. Most of the time, the color of her eyes give her mood away to Rachel and today won't be an exception. "It's alright. Do we have enough for…" She counted the individuals sitting on their living room floor and internally groaned, "six people? I can go and buy take out at Vermicelli"

Rachel beamed and shook her head. "No, it's okay. We brought food", she said before standing on her toes and kissing Quinn on the lips. "Then..", she wrung her hands together and smiled sheepishly. "…we thought we could go clubbing after."

"Clubbing", Quinn repeated in the hope that she heard wrong. But much to her dismay, her girlfriend nodded earnestly. "Who's going to take you home?", the blonde asked, careful to maintain a relaxed tone in her voice while taking off her shoes.

Rachel's face fell visibly. "I..I was hoping you'd go with us, Quinn." The brunette looked into Quinn's eyes expectantly. "I want to show off my gorgeous girlfriend." She followed Quinn in their walk-in kitchen and spoke in a hushed tone. "We've not really gone out since we moved here, sweetheart, and it's a Friday night. Plus, where we're going allows below 21, just that we can't order drinks. But that's alright because all I really want to do is dance a bit with you", Rachel rambled on. " It would be good for you to –"

"Don't even go there, Rachel", Quinn hissed before pouring a glass of water. "I've just been psychoanalyzed by my therapist. It's been a tiring day for me. I just want to curl up in our bed and read a book. I was very much looking forward to that."

"Quinn...", Rachel looked down with a guilty expression.

The blonde sighed and leaned against the sink. "I'm sorry. I'm just really exhausted. Can you go without me?" Quinn tucked a few strands of hair behind Rachel's ear as a peace offering. "I want you to have fun. And just because I'm not with you, doesn't mean you shouldn't. I promise to go with you the next time, okay?"

That next time unfortunately never came. After several attempts and a dozen excuses later, Rachel finally gave up and went about with her night life without Quinn. There wasn't any reason for the blonde to take issue over it. Rachel went out with her friends every Friday night, never went home drunk, or went beyond her self-imposed curfew of 2 a.m. It was very predictable and safe. Quinn waited diligently at home then slept as soon as Rachel lies down with her. She never asked if the brunette had fun because she feared another argument about missing out on life.

"Alright", Quinn nodded emphatically. "It's a go for tonight."

Santana leaned back and studied Quinn's face. "Are you sure?"

"You suggested it, now you're asking me if I'm sure."

Santana buckled down. "Jesus, Quinn. I was just..I was kidding."

"Well, I'm not", Quinn responded resolutely. "She always complained about me not going out. Maybe it's about time I introduce myself to the world."

"Look, Quinn.."

"Are you going with me or not?"

The Latina raised her eyebrow at the blonde's challenging demeanor. "Right. I'm in. Someone has to watch out for you anyway."

Quinn scoffed then silently thanked Santana. She gazed outside the window and thought about her new situation. It's been three years of feeling unsafe and constantly dreading that she would never live a normal life. She thought it was still okay, as long as she was with Rachel. But now that she's alone, and fueled by resentment, she needed to know what it felt to be hunter and not the prey.

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind reviews. I'm in a bit of a conundrum, because to answer some of your questions would mean giving away the plot (including the huge break up), so if you can be a little bit more patient, that would be greatly appreciated. I do intend to keep this at a slow pace. Because the show, unfortunately, leaves us with very little character development, I do feel that's is all up to us to create a more multi-dimensional perspective, lol.

I'm also gunning for quicker updates, though I promise nothing.

And finally, I've decided to shift the rating to M for future possible subthemes.