Season Three
The Graduation
Chapter 70
The Runaway
People say that strange things can be seen in Lima, Ohio, when the sun goes down and the freaks come out; especially in the cemetery on the town's edge. Reports of wild animals that tore passersby to shreds; pale, seductive people that abducted the innocent and returned them hours later, drained of blood; and on the last day of summer, before the local public high school opened it's doors again after three months of an uneventful summer, six teenagers could be seen in the cemetery, moonlight blanketing their bodies as they chased, stalked, staked and shot flaming balls of fire at the undead.
But those are just reports. No-one can say what is and isn't real in a town like Lima when all you have is your word. One thing you could say for sure was that one girl - possibly the most important girl in the town - was missing, and because of her disappearance, those six teenagers had taken her place and spent a summer growing closer than ever.
xxx
Quinn slammed Sofia's rusty car door shut in the parking lot, in a space farthest away from the school building.
Before, she would never have settled for a parking spot next to the sophomores who rode their moms' minivans and the pathetic teachers who rushed in late with Lima Bean coffee spilling down their shirts. She would have been one of the entitled, too-cool-for-school kids who parked at the handicap spots up front beside the bronze razorback hog bust by the entrance. But then, that was before Quinn had ditched all of the old wardrobe her mother had bought for her two years ago and started wearing the clothes Santana had left behind.
Quinn had commandeered Santana's room, too, and started listening to the bands in the posters on Santana's walls. She'd given herself a choppy haircut, her bubblegum pink spikes just grazing her jawline, and walked around in black biker boots, tight jeans and flannel shirts tied up at the waist to expose her bellybutton, her stomach flat from daily crunches - a habit left over from her days as a cheerleader.
She took an herbal lemongrass cigarette from behind her ears and covertly lit it with a flame that flickered from her index finger. Taking a drag, she tightened her grip on her beaten leather satchel and walked through the high school parking lot.
She attracted the stares of her classmates, as they stopped still on their way to a group of friends they hadn't seen all summer and bumped into each other to get a good look at Quinn Fabray's new getup. Cheerios gaped with their mouths wide open and quickly removed their phones from their pockets, texting at the speed of light. Quinn smirked, her eyes sparkling from behind her shaded Ray Bans. Even now, she loved the attention.
She pushed past gawking schoolmates - even freshman who recognized her face from Fox Sports three years ago - and walked up the wide stone steps to the entrance, where Rachel was waiting. Quinn smiled, glee bubbling up in the pit of her stomach at the sight of her preppy girlfriend. When she and Rachel had started dating - and when everyone found out - Quinn felt more freedom than she ever thought possible. She had gotten on a freedom high, keeping her pink locks and smoking fragrant cigarettes just because she could. And Rachel had liked every bit of it; warning Quinn about getting 'too out of hand' while secretly being excited that she was dating a rebellious bad girl.
Quinn trotted up the steps and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, breathing in the smell of vanilla hand lotion. Rachel smiled blissfully, closing her eyes and squeezing her head against Quinn's shoulder. People were staring now. Let them stare, thought Quinn, as she pulled back and held her girlfriend at arm's length. Rachel's dark brown hair hung long past her shoulders, her bangs cut evenly above her eyebrows. Her brown eyes shone, surrounded by catlike liquid eyeliner and she stood impeccably straight in a tartan dress with pockets on the chest.
Two years ago, Quinn would've seen the outfit and stuck a finger in her mouth, pretending to barf, making her cheerleader friends laugh venomously. But now, Quinn smacked her lips together and shook her head, saying, "You get cuter every day."
Rachel blushed and looked around, half self-conscious and half proud that she had a girlfriend who thought she was cute. "Let me see your class schedule!" she said excitedly, taking her own white slip of paper out of her backpack.
Quinn fished the crumpled sheet out of her jeans pocket and handed it to Rachel, the girls exchanging their schedules, their eyes pouring over them. They had five classes together a day, they noted with smiles and glances, not including glee club.
"Quinn Fabray!"
Quinn winced at the sound of the voice, but looked over Rachel's shoulder and forced a smile. As students shuffled into the school, slowing down at the sight of Quinn and Rachel embracing, Morgan Ru appeared from inside the entrance, her black eyes bugged out.
"Hey, Morgan," Quinn said lazily.
"What happened to you?!" the head cheerleader gaped just in front of the double doors, shaking her head and staring at Quinn's outfit. Her black hair was tied up high in a forehead-stretching ponytail and she looked as toned as ever in her tightly fitted Cheerios uniform.
Quinn shrugged and narrowed her eyes at Morgan. "Got a makeover."
"A makeover? No no no. This is a makeunder. What are you trying to do? Is this some crazy scheme to get back on the Cheerios because we're screening the sign-up sheet so only-"
"Morgan," Quinn interrupted, sliding her hand into Rachel's, "I could care less."
Morgan glanced at their hands entwined, her eyes widening as she realized all the rumours she heard over the summer were true. "What is this, the Twilight Zone?! Has this whole town gone crazy? I mean, not that I'm complaining. Buffy Summers got expelled, Brittany moved away, you're a hipster lesbian and now, I have Prom Queen in the bag!"
Quinn rolled her eyes and walked away with her girlfriend, leaving Morgan staring after them as they made their way through the busy hive of students with eager smiles and fresh new tans from the summer sun.
"You couldn't care less," Rachel corrected once they were out of earshot, "If you could care less, it means you at least care a little."
Quinn just smiled to herself as she spotted a couple of their friends down the hall. "Tina! Mike!"
The Type-A couple looked away from the bulletin board in the school's main hallway, where'd they'd been examining the list of extra-curriculars that would get them into Ivy League colleges, and smiled widely when they saw their friends.
Just as Quinn had gone through a major makeover that summer, so had Tina, who'd traded her streaks of electric blue for light brown highlights. She had taken on a massive surge of studying and all her free time was divided between pouring herself over books, spending time with her boyfriend and frequenting the cemetery with her friends. What the girl was studying, none of them really knew, but since she had little time for shopping at Hot Topic and painting her nails black, she had started wearing the vintage dresses that had once belonged to her mother. There was no ring of black eyeliner around her dark brown eyes. The chains, lace and studs had been too time consuming.
"So how was everybody's summers?" asked Mike, his arm around Tina's waist and a navy v-neck sweater hugging his biceps.
The three girls simply smirked at the question. As if he didn't know. At the end of the hall, two boys exited the registration office, hand-in-hand, catching Tina's eye.
"Guys!" Tina called, excited, as she nudged her boyfriend and nodded down at Kurt and Blaine, who, between the both of them, were decked in bow-ties, white-gold cufflinks, brightly colored pants and peter-pan collars.
Kurt gripped his boyfriend's hand and glanced at the people passing him as they made their way to their cliques. His eyes said I dare you and sparkled green. Now that he and Blaine were seniors - McKinley seniors - he wasn't going to be the lost little boy he was last year. Goodbye to being a victim. Hello to being fabulous.
"I can't believe you guys are here," Rachel gushed, practically jumping up and down as the boys approached.
"I can't believe it, either," said Kurt, glancing at Blaine. Kurt had decided months ago to transfer back to McKinley, to be closer to the action of the Hellmouth, but he hadn't expected his boyfriend to up and leave Dalton Academy to be with him for their senior year.
"And everyone's signed up for glee club, right?" asked Rachel.
The other five nodded enthusiastically.
"Awesome!" she clapped her hands together, "This is gonna be the best year ever."
Tina smiled sadly. "I just wish Buffy was here."
The others grew quiet, reminded of why their summer had been so bittersweet. The fates of two of their friends - Buffy Summers and Santana Lopez - were unknown, and while some of them remained hopeful that the two girls had fled the town to be together in peace, others were less optimistic, silently wondering if both had died in an epic battle that none of them got to witness.
"Do you think Mr. Schue has any new leads?" asked Kurt.
With the steady development of his own psychic powers lending more and more nifty abilities to the teenage boy, Kurt tried almost every day to use his visions to help them all find their missing friend, to no avail. So much for clairvoyance. Mr. Schuester went the traditional route, tracking newspapers in nearby towns, trying to find out if anyone had spotted a cute little blond slayer. No such luck.
"Buffy clearly doesn't want to be found," Quinn said, tight-lipped, "Until she does, I don't think we're gonna find her."
"Quinn's right," Mike agreed, shrugging nonchalantly, "Buffy can take care of herself. She'll come back if she wants to."
"Does she know that school started?" asked Rachel.
"Wouldn't it be amazing if she just showed up, like nothing ever happened?" Tina asked aloud, mostly to herself.
"She can't just show up. She got kicked out," Mike solemnly reminded them, his feet firmly planted in reality.
He had been the most reluctant to up his duties as a scooby that summer with the rest of them, thinking that if Buffy cared at all about the wellbeing of Lima, she would come back, but Tina had eventually coaxed him into helping them patrol the graveyard and several dark downtown alleys in shifts, with no less than three of them together at a time.
Mr. Schuester often went with them on patrol, training them in combat like he would have trained Buffy, teaching them how to handle weaponry and work together to overpower a vamp. Each of the six teenagers had their own strengths and weaknesses. Quinn was the most lethal in a pack of vamps, with the ability to throw flames out of the palms of her hands, but her stamina died down after a while, leaving her quite literally burned out. Rachel was weak and easily frightened, but she was the best with tactic and strategy, often mapping plays like a hyper NFL coach.
Tina and Blaine had the most extensive knowledge on the supernatural, and knew what weaknesses belonged to what uglies, but their energy was quickly drained, making them regret all of the times they weaseled their way out of gym class to read a book on the bleachers. Kurt, with the ability to read minds - even those of the paranormal variety - could predict what the uglies were going to do next, but if he came too close to one he was in danger of experiencing a panic attack.
Mike was the only one who seemed woefully unenthusiastic about becoming a superhero that summer, only doing so because his girlfriend had roped him into it, and he hated being that guy, the one who thought it was more important to secure a summer program with Harvard than save lives. His father had been disappointed, but Mike was used to that, and ignored the guilt.
In the awkward silence of Mike's realist remark, Puck bounded over to the group of friends and slapped his arms down on Blaine's shoulders, making the smaller boy jump.
"Easy, Bowtie," Puck guffawed, and looked at the others, "How's everybody doing? Eventful summer?"
He wiggled his eyebrows at them, knowing exactly what they'd done that summer, having helped them patrol a weekend or two. Quinn rolled her eyes at him and he pretended not to notice.
"Football tryouts at the end of the day," he said, "Kurt, you up for it? Team needs a kicker."
"Not this year, Puck," Kurt smiled tightly, "I have everything planned out. Glee club, theatre, student council. Volunteer at the thrift store on Thursdays and put together an online portfolio of stellar performances for NYADA."
"NYADA?" Puck repeated.
"New York Academy of Dramatic Arts," Rachel eagerly interrupted, "The perfect school for Broadway hopefuls, aspiring screen actors, opera singers, recording artists... Our dream school. Kurt and I are going next year-"
"Well, we didn't get accepted yet-"
"-so when I get elected Class President, Kurt can be my running mate."
"Thanks for your generosity, Rachel," Kurt frowned sarcastically.
"Whoa, New York," Puck nodded, impressed, "So I assume Bowtie and Strawberry Shortcake are going with?"
Quinn glared at the mohawked boy and Blaine squirmed, looking uncomfortable.
"Or not," Puck shrugged, feeling the awkwardness in the air.
"It's undecided," said Quinn.
"But possible," said Blaine.
"Uh huh," Puck sighed, and looked at Tina and Mike, "How about Asian Fusion? You lover-birds going to Yale together next Fall?"
"Harvard," Mike corrected.
"I don't know where I'm going yet," said Tina.
"But you're a shoe-in for H-Town," Mike said encouragingly.
Tina shrugged. "Just keeping my options open."
She hadn't meant it to sound so dismissive, but she already knew exactly what she wanted to do, and hadn't gotten around to breaking the news to her boyfriend yet. Besides, she doubted anyone actually called Harvard 'H-Town'.
"Anyhow, Mr. Schue wants to see us in the choir room," said Puck.
Rachel clapped her hands together like a seal. "First glee club meeting of the year!" she said excitedly and grabbed Quinn by the sleeve of her flannel shirt.
The group made their way to the choir room, where Artie Abrams was looking lonely in the front row, Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones were whispering, giggling and clinging to each others' arms and Piper Saberhagen was sitting in the back row looking lost, wearing a denim jacket over a dress, her blond hair lying flat.
"Hey, guys," Mr. Schuester smiled tiredly at them, standing next to whiteboard, "Welcome back to McKinley."
"Nice to see you, Mr. Schue," Rachel smiled sweetly, while the rest of them mumbled greetings and took a seat.
Everyone in the school had regarded Will Schuester with quiet tones and solemn looks. Before the summer had begun, his girlfriend had been killed and Buffy, who'd been like a little sister to him, vanished, leaving only a note for her mother behind. Will had spent the last three months either training the scoobies or searching for Buffy, and getting nowhere, leaving no time for himself and no time to reflect on his life. It was too tragic for him to bear.
"So, welcome back, New Directions," he said to them all, trying to muster up enthusiasm though the sparkle in his eyes were flat, "I know, last year was difficult for a lot of us..."
He trailed off, getting uncomfortable as he tried to remember what he rehearsed.
"...But glee club has always been a home for anyone who needs it, so with each other's support, we will be able to get through anything. All of you are set to graduate this year, and while our goodbye will be bittersweet, I look forward to sending you on your way with everything you need. Nationals are in Los Angeles this year, guys."
He paused to let the glee clubbers swoon and giggle excitedly over thoughts of beaming California weather and star-spotting.
"And with your commitment, we're going to win," he nodded convincingly, "Firstly, I want to welcome our new member and transfer student, Blaine Anderson."
The glee clubbers clapped, smiling warmly at Blaine, who blushed charmingly.
"I'm glad to see you're already at home here, Blaine," Mr. Schue smiled, "Now, as you can see, we're two members short."
In the silence, they all felt the blunt absence of the club's bubbliest blonds, Buffy, and Brittany Pierce, whose family moved away that summer after the death of Brittany's father. Only the scoobies knew that Doug Pierce died at the hands of a soulless Santana Lopez, before her soul could be restored by their witchcraft. Brittany had been depressed before that, but the loss of her parent made her sadness sharper and harder to distract herself from, so their mother took her and her sister up north to be with family and repeat her junior year in a new school.
"As hard as it'll be to replace who we've lost," said Mr. Schuester, pausing before he could get choked up, "We have to recruit at least two new members to qualify for state championships. So keep on the lookout for students with talent. Maybe find some freshmen who want to find their niche or seniors looking to round out impressive college applications, alright?"
The bell rang for first period - the first class of the year, and the glee clubbers filed out, waving politely at Mr. Schuester as they left. Rachel pursed her lips and worried that the watcher would never feel right without his slayer. Will worried the same.
xxx
Buffy let her feet dig into the sand and the frothy, low-tide waves tickled her ankles. The gorgeous Californian beach was practically deserted and she closed her eyes, basking in the sun, a thin cotton daydress clinging to her legs as she smelled the salt-water. Two arms slid around her waist from behind and she smiled at their touch and opened her eyes, easing herself around.
"How did you find me here?"
Santana smiled back, her cinnamon eyes warm. "If I was blind, I could still find you."
Buffy folded herself into Santana's arms. "Stay with me."
"That's the point, slayer," Santana murmured into Buffy's blond hair, "I'll never leave. Not even if you kill me."
Buffy shot up from her bed and coughed, sweat making her fair hair cling to her forehead. She reached over and turned on the lamp on the bedside table, illuminating the spacious room. There were no windows in her room, but the digital clock told her it was five o'clock on the morning as the numbers glowed red. Buffy clutched her head in her hands, exhausted.
Every night, her dreams alternated between a vision of what she wished had happened after that fateful night in May, and a recollection of what actually happened. The latter always included her and Santana, sometimes embracing on a beach, or lying in a pile of crunchy autumn leaves. Sometimes they were with friends at the Bronze, sometimes they were alone under silky sheets. The former was a much bleaker reality.
The memory was vivid in the slayer's mind. A curse had taken Santana's soul, turning her into the malicious and blood-thirsty Snix, who was hell bent on destroying the world as they knew it. All Buffy had wanted for months was for Snix to disappear and Santana to come back, with her sarcastic smirk, her warm, loving eyes and her taut arms holding Buffy tight. For a brief moment, Buffy's wish had been granted.
She had held Santana - the real Santana - in her arms, realizing that Quinn's spell, the one to restore Santana's soul, must have worked with flying colors, because here she was! But then Buffy saw the whirlpool portal to Hell over Santana's shoulder. Snix had opened it, intent on sucking their world into one much nastier, using her own blood as they key. Buffy realized, as she hugged her girlfriend, that if Snix's - Santana's - blood had opened the portal, only her blood could close it.
Buffy brought her hand to her temple and squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to remember what happened next. She skipped forward the scenes of that night until she was at the Lima bus station with the little savings of allowance she had, intent on hitching her way back to LA and finding some tiny rental apartment in a bad neighborhood. All she knew was that she couldn't go home. She had met Santana on her first day at McKinley and she couldn't face living in Lima and not seeing her in the cemetery or at her house. Besides, her mother had flipped when she found out Buffy was a vampire slayer. She couldn't face her again.
Just as the bus screeched to a halt and Buffy picked up her duffel bag, ready to cross the country on her own, a heavy hand had clapped down on her shoulder. Buffy jumped and spun around, tears streaking her face even after she'd stopped crying.
"Angel," she sighed, looking up at the broad-shouldered, dark-haired man.
His mouth was in a tight frown and his eyes were paler than Buffy had ever seen them. It had only been two hours since... Buffy shook her head. She didn't want to think about it. But something in Angel's eyes told her that he already knew.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," he said, "I went to Snix's lair."
Buffy sniffed. "You did?"
He nodded solemnly. "Quinn says they finished the spell-"
"I know," Buffy nodded, "I mean... it worked."
Angel frowned, understanding. "The portal was already open-"
"-I had no other choice-"
"I know. You don't have to explain."
Buffy swallowed and ignored the tightening of her throat. She glanced at the bus to see all of the passengers had either left or boarded. "I better go," she murmured.
"Where are you going?"
"Anywhere. I can't stay in this town anymore. Not after tonight."
"Buffy-"
"Don't try to stop me, okay? I can't bear it. My mom doesn't want me around and I can't go back to my friends and tell them... What am I supposed to tell them? I can barely think about it, never mind say it. Oh, God-"
"I'm not trying to stop you," Angel said softly, "I'm trying to offer you a place to stay."
Buffy blinked through a blur of tears. "What?"
"Where were you planning on going?"
Buffy sniffed. "I was gonna stay at a hostel or something and find a job... waitressing or something. Then get a cheap apartment. As cheap as I can find. Probably in LA."
"You're seventeen years old. You're gonna live in the slums of California on your own?"
"Well-"
"Come with me to New York."
Buffy gaped at him for a moment. "What? Why?"
"I have a place there. It's not much, but my name's on the deed. Or, well, a name is on the deed. You can stay there for as long as you like."
"Angel, you don't have to-"
"You can't be on your own. Not because I don't think you could, but... she wouldn't want you to be."
Buffy looked down at the gravel under her feet.
"I'm not such a bad roommate," he said when she hadn't spoken, "I don't cook, but I'm clean. Quiet during the day. Not usually home at night."
Buffy smirked and sniffed, looking up at him, grateful. "Thank you, Angel."
And now, she was here. Living in New York City, in a basement apartment under an unused office building that Angel had bought back in the '20s when it had been under a tuberculosis clinic. It had a few bedrooms, a small kitchen and one bathroom, but since Angel had no need for human amenities, Buffy mostly had the bathroom to herself.
Unable to sleep, she stood up, leaving her bed a mess, and crossed the hardwood floor to her dresser, where her green smock was waiting. For the first month, she hadn't gone anywhere, wallowing in self pity, but the lack of sunlight in the basement apartment was starting to make her crazy and she needed to start generating her own money.
Angel - whose personal bank account had swelled over the better part of two hundred years of existence - had generously supplied money for groceries he didn't eat, but it made Buffy feel useless. So she got a job waitressing in a cafe. The pay wasn't great, but a job was a job, she told herself. And hers wasn't so bad. At the very least, it wasn't life-threatening.
She dressed in her uniform - a jade green polo shirt and smock, and knee-length black skirt. She pinned on her nametag - it said 'Anne'. She brushed her blond hair back into a ponytail and looked at the day's date in the corner of her alarm clock. Today was the first day of school. The first day of what would have been her senior year.
Her heart panged at the thought of her friends attending their first glee club meeting and laughing together in the cafeteria. Rachel was probably on hyper-drive, trying to get into the country's top performing arts academy, while Tina went the Ivy League route. She frowned and thought about Will. Did he miss her? Did he hate her for leaving? If she thought about it for too long, she would cry.
She left her room and went to the kitchen, the old-fashioned fridge humming softly. She took the last of the eggs out of the fridge and whisked them into an omelette. Once it was made, she found her appetite just wasn't there and left her plate by the sink. Angel came in, a dark jacket draped over his hunched, broad shoulders.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Hey," she replied, "Just getting home?"
Angel nodded. "Sun's about to rise. You're up pretty early."
Buffy shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."
"Oh," he said, "Well, I'll be in my room."
Buffy watched him leave down the hall, unsatisfied with their awkward exchange. Restless, she left the house and decided to be ridiculously early for work.
a/n: Thanks for reading! I'm really excited about Season 3! A lot of cool stuff is gonna happen and I hope people will be pleasantly surprised. I hope this chapter gave a good summation of how everyone is after their summer, since that was it's only real purpose. Next chapter, you'll get to see Jesse and Shelby again, and Buffy bumps into someone from her past. Please review! I'd love to hear what you think about the start of a new season.
Sidenote: Did anyone catch the Teen Choice Awards? So much love for Lea Michele right now, and for all of the Gleeks.