Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Things used to be normal. Things used to be fine. 

But things change. 

There was a time before Charlie knew what a person looked like on the inside. There used to be a time before she knew what her sister tasted like. 

But things change.

And now, Charlie just watches as her peers are dismembered, stepping over young corpses, blood staining her expensive dress shoes, and she feels nothing but satisfaction. 

There was a time when Charlie would have felt revulsion at the very idea of what she’s now taking horrible pleasure in. 

After trekking through the gore strewn around on the asphalt, she finally reaches her sister — busted lip, blood stains covering the front of her elegant dress. Her hair a mess, sweat running down her face along with her eye makeup. 

She’s never looked more beautiful.

Charlie pulls her sister closer, inhaling her vanilla purfume. It’s difficult to smell over the stench of death around them, but it’s enough. 

Charlie leans forward and sucks her sister’s bottom lip into her mouth, sucking roughly upon it as she kisses her with everything she has within her.

Three years earlier…

Chapter Text

                                                                                                 PART ONE

“Charlie, come on you slowpoke!”
Charlie rolls his eyes at his sister as he follows her down the hill into the creek. They had just moved to Deerfield just a few days ago, and mom needed their help unpacking, so they had yet to have a chance to really explore the woods in their back yard. Which wasn’t the end of the world in Charlie’s mind, since he’s always been more introverted than his sister. He’d just about always rather be inside with a book, or watching a movie, or something. But Quinn wants to go outside, and what Quinn gets.
Charlie could never say no to his twin. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming. You should learn some patience!”

Quinn skids to a stop upon the hill, autumn leaves kicking up around her feet. She looks back at Charlie with a raised brow and hands on hips. 

“Patience is for old people and losers, Charlie. Do I look like a loser to you?”

Charlie holds in his laugh.

“No.”

“Do I look like an old person?”

Charlie grins, crossing his arms. 

“No.”

Quinn throws her arms to the sky and shouts with enthusiasm.

“Then let’s go, Charlie! You won’t be young forever!”

She then turns back to run down the hill, very nearly slipping on the moist, brown leaves. She catches herself and runs down into the creek with a battle cry.

“Patience is also for people who don’t bust their asses running down a dumb hill.”

Even with all his grumbling, Charlie still follows his sister — just as he always has. And if it were up to him — just as it always will be.

Splashing around in a bacteria-infested creek turns out to be more fun than Charlie had expected. Quinn started it all by splashing him with the green/brown water, and when he expressed his disgust at this, she then splashed him with yet more gross water. And so he had to exact his revenge. And yes, the water is gross, and yes, outside is always a chore, but seeing Quinn light up. The way her smile looks, the way the sun reflects off the water as it splashes around her.

She looks like an angel. 

“Hi!”

The twins look up to the side of the creek opposite that which they came from to find a little girl - roughly their age - standing on the hill, smiling down at them. 

“I’m Rachel Barbara Berry. And you are?”

Charlie and Quinn trade looks before shrugging — inwardly, that is. Being twins, sometimes you don’t have to say things aloud to know what the other is thinking. Or maybe it’s not a twin thing. They’ve always been twins, so they don’t really have anything to compare it to. Hmm. That’s something Charlie will have to think on another time.

“I’m Charlie. This is my twin sister Quinn.”

“Fabray. Quinn and Charlie Fabray. Quinn comes first, obviously”

Charlie smirks.

“Not according to our birth certificates.”

“Shuddup.”

“Or the alphabet.”

Quinn turns and smacks Charlie’s arm.

“Shut up!”

Rachel rubs her arm nervously before asking, voice shaky —

“Can I play with you guys?”

Quinn answers for them both, 

“Yeah! Come on in, the water’s-”

“Gross”, Charlie cuts in.

Quinn rolls her eyes. “Well yeah, it’s not the best, but it’s fun! Come on!”

Rachel adopts a blinding grin, all but sliding down the hill into the creek to join them - shrieking as she plops into the frigid water. 

“Are you guys crazy?! It’s freezing!”

Quinn turns a thumb down at her. “Boo!”

Charlie laughs and helps Rachel up.

“I told you.”

“You said it was gross, not that it was cold!”

Charlie shrugs.

“It can be both.”

The talking ceases when Quinn once again takes the initiative and splashes both Charlie and Rachel.

“I’ve never met twins before. You guys look just alike.”

Charlie smiles, saying --

“Thanks!”

— just as Quinn says,

“How dare you?!”

Charlie turns on his sister,

“How dare her? How dare you?! Dick!”

Quinn shrugs. 

“Everyone knows I’m the hot one.”

Rachel’s brows raise.

“Who’s been saying that? You’re a child, no one should be saying you’re hot!”

Quinn turns to her now. “What, are you saying I’m not hot?!”

Rachel throws her hands out indignantly. “I’m 12! I don’t know who’s hot yet!”

Quinn points a finger at her with a smirk.

“Well here’s a start — I am.”

Charlie stops them with an outreached arm.

“Look!”

He points up beyond a rising hill to a dusty old wooden shack, resting like a nest egg, just waiting for someone to come along and appreciate it.

“Woah!”, Quinn squeals in excitement.

“Let’s go check it out!” Charlie says.

“Um, I don’t know if that’s such a good i-”

Rachel is interrupted by Quinn’s call of—

“Freeeeedddoooommm!”

Charlie shrugs, following after Quinn; Up the hill and towards the mystery shack.

Rachel sighs a long, deep sigh that sounds like it belongs to an 80 year old war vet rather than a 12 year old girl. 

“If the roof hasn’t caved in yet, what are the odds it would now?”

She flinches when Quinn slams the door open with what could generously be called a tackle. 

But then Charlie turns to Rachel from where he stands just outside the threshold to the shack. She calls out—

“If I’ve gotta go in, so do you!”

Rachel whimpers, reaching down to the star of David hanging from her neck, giving it a kiss before she climbs the hill.

“Wooooooooooh!”

Quinn jumps around the shack, all but barren, with a support beam smack-dab in the center of the room. One of the windows is shattered, glass littering the splintery wooden panels.

Charlie smiles fondly at Quinn as she bounces about the small shack.

Rachel’s face is curled up as if she smelled something foul — which isn’t far off, the place truly doesn’t smell great. “This place is-”

Quinn screams out in her excitement— 

“Incredible! All this empty space, just to ourselves. And no grown ups! Ooh! Or boys!”

Charlie raises a brow. Quinn falters.

“Well obviously not you, Charlie. You’re not a real boy.”

Charlie laughs. “Be careful there, Quinn. I don’t want you to get tetanus.”

“Fuck tetanus!”

Rachel’s brows raise in surprise at her language.

“Are you allowed to curse?”

Charlie leans against the post and smirks.

“Quinn has never cared about what she’s allowed to do or not. And she just discovered her new favorite word watching a Will Ferrell movie.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the fucking room! I’m right fucking here, you fucking dork.”

Charlie raises a hand in a presenting manner. “Exhibit A.”

Quinn stops her jumping and turns to Charlie with narrowed eyes and a smug look.

“Besides… ‘fuck’ isn’t my favorite word — Reagan is.”

Charlie narrows his eyes back at his sister.
“You bitch.”

Rachel pipes up before the twins can bring their argument to the realm of fisticuffs. “Well, we’ve had our fun. I know I certainly have. Perhaps it’s about time we should leave the spooky death shack in the middle of the woods, yes? All in favor, say ‘aye’.”

The twins trade an amused look, then look back at Rachel who gulps nervously at the expression mirrored on the two’s identical faces.

“Oh dear.” 

Charlie stands upright and walks over to Rachel, slinging an arm over her shoulder, pulling her in for a side hug. 

“It’s alright, Rachel. We can fix the place up. Put a new window in, tighten some of these boards so we don’t fall through into hell. Or worse —”

Quinn matches her with the same words, the two reciting in unison—

“New Jersey.”

The two grin at each other, Quinn walking over to duck under Charlie’s other arm. She presses herself close to her twin’s body, the two all but merging.

Charlie smiles warmly down at Quinn, kissing her crown, then turning to Rachel with a bright smile.
  
“It could be a proper clubhouse.”

Quinn looks up to Charlie with mirth in her eyes. “Need a club to have a clubhouse, dontcha?”

Charlie gives her a look. “Details.”

Rachel’s head ducks, voice quivering.

“You guys would want me to be in a club with you?”

Charlie grins down at her again. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Rachel meets her eyes nervously. “I— Well, I’m not particularly popular. You guys just moved here. But, well— you’ll see when school starts again.”

Quinn looks across Charlie at Rachel with a sarcastic, but casual eyeballing.

“Eh, who cares? Fuck those guys.”

Charlie chuckles and squeezes the two girls. “Yeah, fuck those guys.”

Quinn scratches her nails down Charlie’s back, and Charlie turns to her with a look.

“A club, huh?”

Charlie hums.

“We’re gonna need a name.”

Charlie rolls her eyes.

“I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

Chapter Text

"What are they?" Rachel wonders aloud as she and her friends stare down at a collection of small fish, a beautiful prismatic shine that has their scales playing with the light in the most beautiful of ways. Quinn's first thought had been of an old children's book that she and Charlie loved — The Rainbow Fish. They used to make their father read it to them every night before their copy mysteriously disappeared one night. Quinn suspected Frannie of the theft. She didn't appreciate having to listen to the same book every night back when they were younger and still all shared a room.

"I think they're Guppies." Quinn says.

"They're not Guppies, dummy. Guppies don't live in America." Charlie says in return.

Quinn turns to Charlie with her famous raised brow. "How do you know? What do you know about fish?"

"We get Animal Planet now. They're doing a special series about fish this week." Charlie says.

"What are they, then?" Rachel asks.

Charlie shrugs. "I dunno. Minnows or something?"

Quinn asks with a mocking tone, "What, you don't know?"

"They didn't talk about minnows on the special, Quinn, they talked about guppies. So I don't know that they are minnows, but what I do know is that they aren't guppies."

In actuality, the fish were actually just common creek chubs, their rainbow sheen really just being a beautiful yet venomous calling card of a nearby fracking operation.

"You're a guppy." Quinn mutters.

Charlie smirks. "And you're my twin."

"Charlie! Quinn!" The two turn to look up the hill towards their mother's voice.

They turn back to each other, both saying in unison "Time to go."

The twins stand abruptly and begin to climb the hill back into their back yard, but are stopped by Rachel—

"Wait!"

The two turn to the girl.

"Where are you guys going?" Rachel asks.

She takes notice in just how different the emotions that play upon their faces are as they answer,

"Church." The two answer in unison. Quinn with a peaceful smile, a perfect casual nature to it. Meanwhile Charlie has a sort of tightness. There's still a smile, but with none of the peace, none of the casual smoothness.

Charlie isn't even sure why he feels the way he does about church — nor even what exactly it is he feels toward it. All he knows is every time they go it feels like the quiet confidence he has about himself is dragged onto the alter for a bloody disquieting; and the comfort he usually derives from his sister makes him feel only more damned. It's foreign to him, any sort of negative feeling surrounding Quinn's place in his mind and heart. Something new and something that seems to be chained to the church, leaving him light and free the moment he's out of those doors.

None of it makes sense. It makes him want to withdraw to his room and spend his Sundays in the comfort of a new world, one he comes upon on the bookshelf set up by his closet. It's either that, or he sits with his own thoughts…

No thank you.

Not that any of this matters, considering Charlie has to go. As reasonable as his parents generally tend to be, everyone has a line. Skipping church is where Russel drew his.

"—and when we look inside ourselves, among the darkness that is the nature of all men… there is one thing that you'll find in us all."

"Communion crackers. The body can't actually digest them, so they just sit there in a pile; clogging up the pipes."

Russel thumps Charlie on the ear, and he leans away from Quinn — who is now trying to hold in a laugh. Whether it's at Charlie's joke or Charlie's misfortune is a secret that will die with the sun when it finally consumes the earth and takes us all with it.

Charlie turns with a reddening face to look at his father, who raises a familiar brow at him. "Sorry, dad."

Russel is unable to keep a smirk of his own from infecting his face. He leans in to mutter,

"Eh, it was pretty funny. They're made of Chinese newspapers, you know?"

Charlie smiles up at Russel.

"God. The one thing all of us have in common is that god lives within each and every one of us. Giving us the strength to fight off the darkness that comes so naturally to us."

Charlie turns back to face pastor Niccol. Maybe that's what it is. Maybe god just doesn't live in Charlie like he does everyone else. Maybe he just forgot about Charlie.

Or maybe there is no god and life is meaningless.

Which would be more depressing?

Ugh, this shit is too heady for a 13 year old.

Charlie wonders what kind of fish those were.

The shack is bathed in soft orange light as the sun goes down out the window. Soft rain patters upon the old roof. And overwhelming the soft sound of the rainfall is banging of little Quinn's little wooden mallet as it raps against the worn out nightstand they've set up beside the support beam in their clubhouse. Quinn stands tall, nose high as she looks down at Charlie and Rachel, both sat with crossed legs upon dusty couch cushions on the floor.

"The first official meeting of The Guppies is now in effect."

Charlie raises a hand. "I object to the name The Guppies."

Quinn bangs the mallet again. "I object to your objection, and advise to to shove it up your ass."

Charlie crosses his arms, mumbling—

"They weren't guppies."

"But we are."

Rachel raises her own hand, Quinn pointing to her with a wave of her mallet. "Miss Berry, you have concerns?"

Rachel shakes her head, keeping her arm up.

"Not concerns, not really. More like queries."

"You may proceed." Quinn nods seriously.

Rachel shifts upon her cushion. "I'm just wondering how we're going to handle tomorrow. It is the first day back at school, after all."

Charlie turns to her. "What do you mean,'handle it'?"

Quinn looks at Rachel in agreement with Charlie's question, her own curiosity plain.

"I just mean how should we handle our friendship in public? Like I told you the day that we met, I'm not well liked at school, and I just want to make sure that you aren't treated poorly for an association with me."

Charlie raises a hand. "I move that we dismiss this subject immediately as bullshit."

Quinn smacks the mallet again. "Motion granted. We shall interact the same way at school as per usual. All in agreement?"

Charlie and Quinn each shout out a boisterous "Aye", then look expectantly to Rachel. Her face glows, a genuine but restrained smile blossoming upon her face.

"Aye." She says softly.

Quinn brings the mallet down again, Charlie raising a brow at her. "Do you really have to do that every time?" Quinn ignores Charlie and bangs it thrice more, shuffling a few comic books upon the wooden tabletop as if they were some sort of important documents.

"The next matter is one of my own suggestion; Charlie, we need to talk about your clothes." Quinn says as she sneers at Charlie's wrinkled, baggy t-shirt.

Charlie looks down at his clothes, confused. "My clothes? What's wrong with my clothes?"

"You have holes in your jeans, your shoes are stained, and frankly Charlie, your shirt is more wrinkled than granny Fabray."

Charlie gapes, inundated with discontent. "What? That's not… well it's technically true, but— Well-" Charlie turns to Rachel, "You like my clothes, right?"

Rachel avoids Charlie's eyes, which is all the answer he needs. He turns back to his sister.

"It's a style choice. That's a thing, right? Torn jeans and stuff?"

"This isn't the 90s, Charlie. And you can't pull of grunge. I love you more than anything, Charlie, but I will pretend I don't know you if you don't wear something that at the very least matches at school!"

Charlie rolls his eyes. "We're twins, Quinn. You can't pretend you don't know me if we look like the same person."

"People are dumb, Charlie. They'll believe anything as long as you say it enough and with enough conviction."

Charlie narrows his eyes. "You heard dad say that when he was watching the news, didn't you?"

Quinn slams her fists down onto the nightstand, "Dammit, Charlie, does it matter where I heard it? It's still true! And I will excommunicate your ass if you don't wear clothes that haven't been eaten through by fucking moths!"

"Okay, okay! Jesus. Psycho."

Quinn crosses her arms. "Besides — we don't look that alike."

At that, Rachel and Quinn both turn on her, skepticism unfettered in their disbelieving stares.

"What? We don't!" She insists.

Rachel interjects, nearly laughing her way through her words, "Quinn, you can't honestly believe that. Charlie looks exactly like you. All he needs is to grow his hair out and put on a little makeup."

Quinn tilts her head, nostrils flaring as she eyes her twin.

"Hmm. How much you wanna bet?"

Charlie's features jump. "Umm, what?"

Rachel lights up, getting Quinn immediately. "I don't have money, but I could perform for you as a prize."

Quinn's lip curls, "Perform what? Is this something I'm gonna want to see, or is it something gross?"

Rachel recoils. "What do you mean, something gross?"

"Don't ask her what she means." Charlie cuts in with a groan.

Quinn shakes her head in agreement, "Don't ask me what I mean."

Rachel rolls her eyes and stands to her feet. "Yes, it is definitely something you'll enjoy."

"Where are you going?" Charlie asks nervously as Rachel walks toward the shack door.

"To get the makeup."

Charlie blows a calming breath through pursed lips. "You know, I actually—" Charlie cuts himself off, jumping to his feet and making a break for the door. Rachel slams it shut, holding onto the knob from the outside, keeping Charlie inside for just long enough for Quinn to tackle him, wrapping her arms and legs around her twin to restrain him.

"No! Lemme go, Quinn!"

"Never! Go, Rachel, go!"

"Wow." Quinn says, disbelief coloring her voice as Rachel pulls away from Charlie, having put the finishing touches on his makeup. Charlie grumbled throughout it, but allowed the girl to do her work. The sun has gone down in the time past, but thankfully Rachel had the foresight to bring a lantern upon her return. With the rickety shutters closed over the windows to keep the rain out, Rachel remakes Charlie. With the soft lighting, and Rachel's good work, Charlie has become a feminine vision. Quinn feels something stir in her stomach as she stares at her twin. Is it conceited to be this attracted to someone who looks just like me? Quinn wonders. Her eyes widen as she then wonders as a follow-up, Wait, am I attracted to my twin brother?

Charlie can feel his body quivering. He's never felt so nervous before — almost akin to walking in on something you're not meant to see. Something you're not meant to know. Charlie has no idea how to describe what he's feeling, nor does he want to. What he wants is to go outside and let the rain wash all of this away and forget about it all. At least that's what he wishes he feels. What he could make himself feel. But the truth is what he actually wants is —

"Let me see." Charlie holds out a trembling hand, beckoning Rachel to hand him the compact makeup mirror from the little pile of supply on the floor next to her.

Rachel hesitates when she sees Charlie's visible discomfort. "Charlie, are you-"

Charlie's fingers jerk in a demanding motion. "Give it to me."

Rachel swallows, but unfolds the mirror and places it into Charlie's shaky hand.

Charlie stares back at himself — a face that's so familiar, but the very sight of it sends electricity through his veins. He can't stop the forceful rush of tears to his eyes. Nor can he stop the smile that tears its way across his face — the widest, brightest smile that's ever come from him. He sobs through the grin; He just can't seem to get it down.

Everything in him feels alight. The overwhelming glow of happiness tears itself through his body. He didn't know one could shiver with joy, but it's exactly what he feels like is happening right now. He never knew something was wrong until now. He's never felt real until this moment.

"Charlie?" Quinn says nervously. She shoves the butterflies she feels while looking at her brother down when she notices the emotional state he's in.

Charlie just laughs as he looks in her mirror, or is he crying? It's hard to tell at this point. He doesn't seem to even process that she's speaking to him.

The euphoria can't last forever. And when Charlie is hit with the implications of everything he's feeling, the grin falls and he's hit in the gut with a very different feeling. One that's more familiar, but equally devastating. Charlie's chest feels as though it compacts itself, pushing the breath out of him along with more tears.

Quinn feels herself becoming emotional at the pain pouring off of Charlie. She scoots over toward him, going to comfort him, but as soon as she touches Charlie, he recoils. Charlie pulls away from his twin and jumps to his feet.

"Charlie, wa-"

Charlie doesn't listen, running out into the night. His tears blend with the rain, making the newly-applied eyeliner run down his face in dark streams.

"Charlie!"

He ignores Quinn's voice shouting after him as he sprints through the woods, feet splashing against the puddles swallowing the grass as he tries to get away. Where he's going he doesn't know. All he knows is that any place is better than here.

He keeps running, deeper and deeper into the woods. He's never been this far into them before.

"Ugh!" He slips falling face-first into the pooling water. He coughs as he tries to get his bearings, pushing himself up to recline on his knees. He looks around, finding himself in something of a clearing, one enormous tree in the center of it — branches stretching out until they graze the tips of the surrounding trees.

Charlie stands, eying the moistened bark of the thick, twisted tree. Charlie steps toward it as his eyes run down the length of the wood, finally coming upon a large hole in the tree. It opens up as though a doorway into the hollowed-out thing.

Charlie walks closer as if in a trance. There's something about this tree…

He freezes, blinking harshly at the sting of the running makeup in his eyes. He rubs them with clenched fists, hissing in remembrance.

Then there's a sickening cracking sound. He looks back up slowly to the tree hole, a shadow moving within.

Bones seem to crack from disuse within as something beastly comes staggering out of the tree. Something alive. Something angry.

The thing has rough, leathery flesh, a familiar prismatic quality to it. It's body long and jagged. As though you took a man riddled with scars and deformity and stretched him beyond capacity. The ridged head adopts a concavity where it's face should be — as though someone caved the head in and left nothing but a dark, reflective pool in it's place. Charlie is horrified to see his own face reflected back in it's surface. The thing steps out toward him.

He steps back with a frantic quality to his distraught movements. He's confused when the thing steps back in perfect replication of his movements. It's like looking in a funhouse mirror. You don't recognize the thing you see in it's warped surface, but it mimics you perfectly. Both he and the thing fall back onto their asses in perfect unison.

Charlie wipes the stinging water from his face, watching as the thing reaches up with dark, clawed hands to do the same.

"What are you?"

The thing doesn't respond, instead only tilting it's head at Charlie as he does the same. They stare at each other, Charlie drawn in by the shining blackness of his own — no, her own eyes reflected back at herself.

Finally their staring contest ends when they both turn abruptly to look over Charlie's shoulder when they hear Quinn's voice shouting out,

"Charlie!"

Charlie can hear Quinn coming toward them, and she turns back toward the thing, to find that it's gone.

A shadow moves within the tree.

And then nothing.