A/N: In summary, prepare for the feels. No Faberry interaction, instead we've got Santana, Brittany and Puck. Let's just say, Quinn's got a lot to deal with. We've got some fun on the way for the next chapter, but don't forget to leave a review, I really appreciate them!
"You what?!"
Santana and Brittany sat before her with slack jaws and round eyes. Quinn should have expected this reaction; after all it was a massive revelation considering she was sure nobody in their trio had even imagined Rachel being capable of reciprocating the blonde's feelings. Well, that wasn't exactly true… since coming out to Santana, the Latina had made many a raunchy comment about just what she thought about Quinn's choice in girl crush. Still, nobody expected this, if Brittany's momentary inability to eat the Lucky Charms that sat limply on her tongue were anything to go by.
"We… kissed."
That seemed to be all the conformation that was needed for her two long-term friends to snap out of their shocked daze. Santana rocked backwards, shaking her head as a smile spread along her lips, while Brittany instead returned her focus to digging around in the cereal box on her lap. The scene was a familiar one, as Quinn once again found herself in an empty classroom, standing in front of her confidants as they sat crossed legged on a desk. She'd waited over a week to confess the recent turn of events to them, as they qualified as both her best friends and the most experienced people she knew in this… particular field. She knew what the next question was going to be; she just wasn't particularly looking forward to answering it.
"So, what happened next?" Santana prompted with a leering smile.
"Well, I kind of left. Ran away, actually."
"Hey, just like last time!" Brittany exclaimed.
Santana gave Quinn a look. Not having been present during Quinn's explanation to Brittany on what happened the night she realized she had feelings for Rachel, the brunette seemed to connect the dots.
"Call me old fashioned, but in my experience 'running away' doesn't exactly get a girl's motor going, Q."
The blonde rolled her eyes. While she was ready to reveal the kiss, she wasn't exactly sure neither girl could understand the emotions that came afterwards. That night, Quinn had spent hours driving around in the rain, her mind unable to rest and stomach unable to stop the churn of guilt. Sure, Santana and Brittany had dealt with their own difficult times in their sexuality and resulting coming outs, but neither had to deal with the complexities of the resulting crisis of faith and a boyfriend who died on their watch. Even if she tried to verbalize the difficulties, she couldn't possibly give justice to the feelings brought about by that kiss.
Because the truth was, from the moment her lips touched Rachel's, she knew it was both the best and the worst thing to happen to her. Never before had a kiss given her that intoxicating head rush, allowing her mind to forget everything she'd ever worried about because all she knew, in that moment, was that this was exactly where she was supposed to be. That realization, however, did come with its challenges.
While she was able to come to terms with her feelings towards Rachel, acting on it was entirely different. Despite her body telling her this was the most natural thing in the world, her mind put up barriers to large they were impossible to overcome. She'd read the Bible verses; she'd attended the services. Homosexuals would not inherit the kingdom of God.
Then there was the issue of Finn, the boy whom Rachel had loved so dearly (and quite possibly still did). Quinn had, after all, been the one to select Finn to join her on their mission to scope out the dangerous halls on that awful day. In her mind, she was just as much responsible as the boy who had pulled the trigger.
Before Quinn could respond to the remark, however, the school bell rang. While it would have been answered with a school wide groan any other day, today it was met with utmost silence; because today, that bell didn't mean the start of the first class.
Instead it signified the beginning of the school day that marked one year since the shooting.
The day was to start off with an assembly in the auditorium, which was what Quinn dreaded the most, aside from the very nature of the day itself. Her friends must have noticed her reluctance, as Santana and Brittany slowly slid from their perches to link their arms in hers.
"Today is going to suck," Brittany sighed, resting her head against her fellow blonde's shoulder.
"I think you're right about that, Britt," Quinn murmured in response, as the three girls left the room and entered the hallway.
It was exactly how Quinn imagined it. Many students had plastered posters on their lockers that featured everything from Bible verses to a simple 'Never Forget.' More still had pictures of those lost that day, with one of the fallen student's lockers being transformed into a makeshift memorial, complete with grieving tearful girls. They were sobbing over a memorial dedicated to Mike, whose picture they each held in their hands as they knelt in front of his locker, sobbing openly as they held each other. They wailed loudly as they fought over who he was 'closer' to. As far as Quinn knew, the girls had never spoken a word to Mike, who was reserved outside of the Glee Club and his football team. Judging by the look of disgust on Santana's face, she didn't recognize them from the funeral either.
"No, Britt. This day is going to be shit," Santana growled, leading them past the increasing howling group.
"On second thought," Quinn murmured, as she passed a girl referring to Finn as 'Finley', "I have to agree with Santana."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
For what was possibly the first time in the school's history, there was complete silence as the students filed into the auditorium. Only the faint chorus of sniffles could be heard as more students than not cried into each others shoulders, everyone doing their best to avoid looking at the blown up, black and white photographs that once again took pride of place on stage. Quinn allowed herself to be guided through the masses, Santana and Brittany placing her between them as they took their seats. The blonde had thought she'd be feeling an onslaught of emotions, but instead she felt numb as she sat there, her mind a mere dull hum. She couldn't feel anything despite being surrounded by such heavy emotion, but at the same time, she couldn't
As her eyes scanned over the weeping crowd, she spotted a familiar small brunette awkwardly sidestepping her way along a row. Rachel looked to be hiding her face behind the veil of her hair, clutching something in her hand and avoiding looking at the stage. As she sat down, Quinn felt a surge of guilt overcome her, a feeling she was starting to get used to. Had she made this time more difficult for Rachel, due to the… recent turn of events? Rachel would have undoubtedly- just as Quinn did- remember that the one-year anniversary of the McKinley High Shooting had not been far away. It was then the thought struck her.
Was the kiss simply a way of Rachel looking for comfort?
Girls did that all the time, right? At least from what Santana had told her in the past, many girls had no qualms with kissing the same sex. After all, it was Rachel who had made the first move, or at least that's how she saw it. Did Rachel think that Quinn made the first move? Maybe she felt pressured to follow through in fear of destroying their already struggling friendship? Rachel was understandably vulnerable due to the near anniversary of her boyfriend's death… had Quinn taken advantage of that?
Before she could fully begin to analyze any of these questions, the microphone clicked on, causing the well-known feedback to screech throughout the room. Principal Figgins readjusted the microphone down to his height, clearing his throat before addressing his students.
"Today, we remember the events that took place within our school walls only one year ago. In our halls, our cafeteria, our classrooms and our choir room."
Quinn hung her head, closing her eyes in an attempt to escape the words.
"It has been a year of trying times, painful memories and growth. We aim to preserve the memory of those you've known in many different ways. With that, I'd like to call Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman to the stage."
Her stomach dropped. She should have expected this. Only now did she see the reporters hidden away in the wings of the stage, cameras at the ready. Admittedly there were fewer than before, but the year memorial had still managed to draw some attention. She still couldn't quite understand what had made her the 'face' of the shooting; after all, she was the one that had caused one of the deaths. She wasn't a hero, she was the idiot who thought it was the best cause of action to leave the safety of the choir room and actively enter the openness of the shooter's territory.
Quinn was quickly snapped to her feet from a sharp jab to the ribs courtesy of Santana. She slowly made her way to the stage, silence in her wake. Puck reached the stage first, his expression unreadable but clearly not impressed. The blonde soon joined him, the pair standing close together but far from both Figgins and the reporters. It didn't take long for the assault of camera flashes to partially blind her, but she was silently thankful that this time she wouldn't fall to the floor in panic.
"Quinn and Noah, your actions of bravery on that day are far from forgetful. Those of you who may not have heard, Quinn took charge of the Glee Club in their teachers absence, and lead a small group who looked for an escape route. Noah was the young man who disarmed and… disabled the assailant, which-"
"I didn't disable him, I killed him."
If there was a moment where silence could get any more still, this was it. Puck's words even caused the tirade of flashing to grind to a halt.
"…Well, quite right," Figgins murmured, clearly uncomfortable with the interruption. Instead of finishing, he waved on an assistant from offstage, who carried out a large plaque.
"So to ensure these events are never forgotten, and hopefully never repeated, we've organized a memorial plaque to be laid at the entrance to our school. Miss Fabray, Mister Puckerman, for your actions we feel it is only right to give you the honor of placing this plaque."
Applause broke out amongst the mass of students. The assistant trotted over, placing the large golden plaque into Quinn and Noah's arms, causing the strobes of cameras to ignite once more. The assembly continued, with speeches from a police officer ("So proud to see the community bounce back") and a parent of one of the lost students ("I'm sure she'd be happy to see life going on.") Quinn wasn't listening, however. Her fingers wrapped around the object, fingertips pressed against the raised names of the dead.
Once the assembly came to a close, they were finally allowed to leave the stage. Before Quinn could make her way back to her friends, however, she was ushered alongside Puck to the front of the school. Apparently she had misunderstood; she literally had to place the plaque. Heaven forbid the journalists lose their photo opportunity.
As they laid the object on top of the freshly prepared slab of concrete, Quinn had her first full glance at it. As she expected, there was a general quote about the loss of young life, the date of the event and the names of all the students who had lost their lives that day. Well, at least that was what she thought until she felt Puck tense up alongside her, furiously turning to face the principal who was stoically posing alongside them.
"Adam Clark's not on here."
Figgins shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the reporters. Before he could respond, however, one of the reporters interjected, his recorder extended in front of him.
"Adam Clark is the name of the shooter, Mr. Puckerman. Are you saying you think that monster's name should be on that plaque?"
"Well he died, didn't he?" Puck spat back, and Quinn recognized the spark of anger that lit inside his eyes.
"Yes, well, he also killed many of your classmates."
"He was just a kid, and now he's dead."
"So were they," the reporter countered, causing many of his coworkers to turn their camera's to Noah.
"That's my fucking point," the mohawked boy all but growled.
The reporter stood still for a moment, before shifting back into position. The mob then turned their attention to Figgins, who began mumbling about the 'loss of life' and his concerns about 'memorializing such a student'. The blonde, however, quickly lead her friend away from the group, breathing a sigh of relief once they walked over the school threshold and out onto the street.
For a while, the two of them simply leant against the fence, watching cars drive by. When he spoke, his words were heavy with the guilt he had clearly never been spoken.
"I think about it a lot, you know? My fist pounding into that kids head until it caved in. He was just a kid. What he did was fucked up, but he was still a kid. He still died, his folks still cried, they still wanted a fucking funeral and it got egged. I mean, shit, they would have had to identify his body…. no parent should have seen their kid the way I left him."
Quinn wasn't sure what made her say it. But in that moment, she gave into the fact that despite her initial reluctance, her relationship with Puck was now one of the strongest she had. While there was a strong history between her and Santana and Brittany, it was Puck who best understood this aspect of what happened. So while the wind blew stray leaves into a dance across the street, she accepted that Noah Puckerman was the best friend she had, for better or for worse.
"I kissed Rachel."
They continued to watch the world pass before them for the moment that passed, until, with a sigh, her friend placed his arm around her shoulder.
"It's a strange, strange world, Fabray."