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Chapter Text

They say you never see death coming, that dying always takes you by surprise. They are wrong. In the minutes or seconds leading up to your death you know . You know you are about to die and that there is nothing you can do to stop it. 

Rachel woke up an hour before her alarm was due to go off tangled in her bedsheets, wet from sweat.

She jerked upright and shrugged the bedsheets loose as her eyes darted frantically around the room.

She had died.

She had died.  Rachel shook her head and clenched her eyes shut. 

No.

She had dreamt that she had died. Had had a nightmare that she died. But she, Rachel Barbra Berry, had not died.

Rachel slowly reopened her eyes, her breaths shallow and uneven as she stared into the dark.

Her hand fumbled to the side, finding the switch to her lamp and clicking it on. The soft glow spilled across the room, chasing away the worst shadows.

To steady her racing heart and shake off the lingering memory of the nightmare—the same one for the fifth night in a row—she began silently listing Barbra Streisand’s iconic discography.

Each title felt like a lifeline, grounding her in the present.

Dreams were just dreams, she told herself, albeit they were very terrifying dreams.Everyone had repetitive dreams. It happened. It must be the worry about returning to the halls of McKinley for the first day of Junior year manifesting in nightmares. Once she had braved the halls of McKinley- and her less than intelligent  fellow students - the nightmares would go away. Her sleeping habits would go back to normal.

Rachel nodded to herself as she started getting up out of bed. She would use the extra time to practice. To get through her morning routine and prepare her show face to hide the effect that the relentless teasing and bullying of her peers had on her. Although, maybe, maybe this year would be different she thought as she prepared her protein shake.

It had to be different.  

She had friends now and while she was tragically confident that the bullying from her peers would not stop now - why would they change up what they'd done for two years at this point - she had cautious hope that maybe the teasing inside the choir room would stop. Maybe they would finally appreciate her input after what had happened at regionals? Sure none of her friends had messaged her at all during the break but that didn’t have to mean anything. Did it?

Rachel peddled fast on her elliptical while her mind was a mile away thinking things through and preparing for the day ahead. Finn had dumped her less than two weeks into summer break as he stated he had not wanted a serious relationship and;

“Honestly Rachel, I only said I love you to get you back. I didn’t intend for you to get so clingy.” 

Rachel was still trying to decide if that was better or worse than that time he dumped her to find his ‘inner rockstar’ and date both Brittany and Santana at the same time.

It was okay though.

Rachel had decided in the immediate minutes following the breakup that it was for the best. Less time trying to help Finn be a decent boyfriend meant more time for her to focus on important things.

Like Broadway.

His callous disregard of her feelings and emotions didn’t matter, the lingering feeling of having been manipulated and used didn’t matter. All that mattered was Broadway and how she was going to get there.

The way to get there was clear. And it all started with Nationals. She needed to get the New Directions to Nationals. Nationals were in New York City this year and Rachel was going to get there even if she had to single handedly carry the weight of the whole team, she would do it. 

For Nationals. 

For New York. 

She got off the elliptical, wiped her brow, and caught her breath. She'd worked it all out. It would be fine.

Rachel walked into McKinley with purpose and, without consciously deciding to do so, veered to the left midway down the hall. To her astonishment, a slushy hurtled past, narrowly missing her face, and instead - judging by the startled squeal that erupted behind her - found its mark on the unfortunate soul who had trailed behind her.

Quite a change from her usual fate as McKinley's go-to slushy target for the past two years. A triumphant grin spread across her face as she admired her dry clothes. Then she saw exactly who had been hit with the slushy previously marked as a ‘Rachel Berry special’ and that smile was quickly wiped from her face. 

Santana.

Santana would let it go because of Glee right? They were friends now. 

Sort of.

“You’re dead, dwarf.” 

Well, great. But no. She wasn't going to stand for this. This year was supposed to be different.

“I must ask, Santana, why I am the subject of your rage when it was Karofsky,” she said evenly with only the slightest shake in her voice as she nodded her head in Karofsky's direction “who was the perpetrator of the slushy that is now staining your uniform.”  

Santana hesitated for a second before exploding.

 "It doesn't matter who threw the damn thing, manhands! It was meant for you, now it's on me, so you gots to pay!" 

Karofsky smirked at Rachel’s face before stating, “I suggest you run,” and to the laughter of the rest of the students in the hallway Rachel did just that. 

No, this year would not differ from the last. Rachel thought as she found herself spending her lunch break in the choir room on the first day of her Junior year, a solitary figure amidst the empty chairs and music stands. Unless there happened to be an intriguing Glee club assignment – which, she forlornly admitted, Mr. Schuester wasn't particularly skilled at creating – the room remained devoid of other people. Even Brad, the pianist, seemed to have more enticing lunchtime options.

Here, Rachel could immerse herself in her thoughts, savor her lunch, fine-tune her singing, or even work on choreography, depending on her mood. Mostly, though, it was singing that she devoted her lunch to. The choir room felt like a sanctuary, its refuge secured by the unwritten rule that most jocks and popular kids wouldn't be caught dead setting foot in there by choice.

This isolation was something she'd grown accustomed to. It stung, of course, because she considered the Glee club members her friends, even though they didn't quite see her the same way. She recalled numerous instances from the previous year when she'd rushed to the aid of various Glee club members after slushy attacks, but she couldn't recall a single time they'd reciprocated. She wouldn't leave a friend in the lurch during a crisis, but when she'd approached Kurt at the beginning of lunch today, he'd hissed at her, 

"Go away, Berry. These are new clothes, and you're public enemy number one at the moment." So, with a heavy heart, she'd accepted her fate and relented, bowing her head and making her way to her supposed sanctuary. Although, how safe was it truly ifit was only safe when it was empty?

Rachel shook those thoughts, those memories, off as she set up the piano. Getting ready to prepare her rendition of ‘Send in the clowns’ for that afternoon's Glee club meeting.  It was always good to start the year off reminding her teammates just how good she was and ‘Send in the clowns’ was the perfect way to do that. Lest they get any ideas of replacing her as lead and therefore dooming their chances to make it past sectionals, much less regionals.  

"Into every generation a Slayer is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their number. She is the Slayer." Rachel spun around from the piano to locate where the voice was coming from. Eyes darting across the room before coming to a stop. The voice belonged to a tall blonde woman with legs for days standing at the door.

“What?” she blurted out. Which wasn’t terribly eloquent of her but in her defense - strange, oddly attractive, woman in the choir room. Interrupting her with tragically incomprehensible nonsense. 

There was a smirk carefully hidden behind a polite smile and knowing eyes as the woman said  “You’re the Slayer, Rachel. The chosen one.” 

Still gibberish unfortunately and Rachel, grievously, was still suffering from a limited vocabulary.

“What?” she exclaimed. 

There was a small gap between the stranger and the choir room door. Just beyond that she could hear the neanderthal noises of her fellow students which, normally, was an annoyance but right now? Right now it reminded her that there was still sanity in her reach. If she could just get there.

“Okay,” she said, swallowing deeply. She could talk down a lady who was clearly going through it, she was Rachel Berry and this was just another performance. “Putting aside the fact that I do not understand exactly what you are saying, who, exactly, are you? And! How did you get here?”

“I’m the new English teacher, Holly Holiday.”

Oh thank Liza Minnelli, she was a teacher. Or at least she claimed she was a teacher. She was also claiming Rachel was the Slayer of… something. So, maybe this Holly wasn’t the most reliable figure. 

“I used to be a substitute,” allegedly-Holly continued “but this is my first full time position.” As she spoke she reached behind her and shut the door. That was not good. The gap was gone and along with it the comforting sound of Karofsky yelling out “incoming!” to a new victim.

“But that’s not important, what's important is that you are the next Slayer and I am your Watcher. So here I am” When she finished speaking, she cocked her head at Rachel expectantly. As if that made any sense. As if she hadn’t just trapped her in here and interrupted her performance and made Rachel feel insane.

Then suddenly and all at once Rachel found her voice. 

“What are you even talking about? What is a Watcher? What is a Slayer? Have you taken anything? Did Mr Schue’s ex wife give you anything - you should watch out for that.”

Holly’s face pinched as she heaved an exasperated sigh. 

“Okay, starting with the basics then. Vampires? Exist. So do demons, werewolves, spirits, etcetera. Basically, everything evil you’ve ever heard of in English class exists in some form on earth. Capice?”

A psychotic break was looking more likely. Why was healthcare in America so inaccessible, and why was healthcare in Ohio worse? They really should address that. It would stop innocent Broadway bound high school students having their practices interrupted. 

Proceed carefully, Rachel thought, and remember, she claims to be your teacher.

Step one: Don’t break the fantasy

“I hear what you are saying,” she said slowly, carefully, “I do not necessarily believe you but I understand.”

“Ugh, Rachel. Get with the program already. Evil things exist and to balance things out, so does the Slayer. The Slayer protects earth from the supernatural creepy-crawliess. She banishes demons, kills vampires, vanquishes evil.”

“And that is… me? You are saying that’s me? And there is just… one right? One against… all of that.” Just yesterday she’d seen a spider in the shower and let out a noise worthy of a falsetto. Next this Razzie Award for Teaching nominee would tell her she’d make an excellent quarterback. She just knew it. 

“Ding dong and you get a prize. There is only ever one Slayer but there are many candidates to succeed them. Should they die, or fail. Before this week you were only a potential and now, you are the Slayer” 

This made less sense than that Pyramus and Thisbe bit in Shakespeare. “And none of these potentials are told beforehand? You should give them some training before popping up unexpectedly.” 

Holly’s lips pursed. There was more than a little irritation in her voice when she said:

“We didn’t think it would be you. Truthfully, there were far more promising candidates. We kept an eye on them instead.”

That was rude. Even someone completely delusional failed to see her destined brilliance. 

“We?” she bit out.

“The Watchers. Every Slayer has a Watcher. The person who guides them through their slaying and gives them advice  while rocking a killer outfit - well, that last one’s just me. Jones, for one, dresses atrociously.” 

Rachel had had enough. There were people trained for this sort of thing. People at this very school even, in the First Aid Room for example. Or Emma Pillsbury in a pinch. Rachel was sure she had a pamphlet for this very occasion: The Chosen Hospital: A Guide for Fantasy Mentors’ in a Non-Fantasy World .

“Look, Ms Holliday. That does not make sense and I am sorry but even if it was true - I still would not be this Slayer person. You said it yourself, I am not a promising candidate. I am going to be famous. l am going to be on Broadway. What I am not going to do is die young while killing vampires or exorcising Demons. It is just not going to happen.”

She tossed her head decisively and turned back to the piano, gathering sheet music and placing it in her bag. If she just started tidying everything away before walking determinedly to the door (and ignored everything that this woman was saying) then she’d be able to get away from this conversation. She had to. 

“Then how do you explain the dreams?”

Rachel froze, sheet music in hand. She was in a dark room, there was something leaning over her grinning. Showing fangs and a brutally ridged forehead. A voice saying “embrace your destiny ” her heart was beating faster and faster and - she shook her head. That wasn’t real. That was last night’s nightmare. Now she thought about it, that did sound like a vampire or a thing of evil but… she’d been having these nightmares for five nights now. How did Ms Holliday know? She couldn't. 

“What are you talking about?” Unfortunately, Rachel's voice came out in a soft hesitant whisper rather than the accusatory tone she had been trying for.

“Your dreams Rachel, I know you’re having them. Every Slayer does and they are especially frequent at the start. What they are about varies. Sometimes they are memories from previous Slayers, sometimes they are prophetic, sometimes they are just nightmares. So, Rachel, tell me what they are for you?”

“I die in my dreams. Every night I die,” The answer burst from her uncontrollably. It spilled across her lips as if it has been waiting at the tip of her tongue for days. Desperate to escape. Desperate for someone, anyone, to listen. I’m frightened she thought, I’ve been scared since this started.

“Well, that’s depressing.” 

And that was ineloquent for an English teacher. It was also not very illustrative. 

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of the school bell. It was definitely time to go. Ms Holliday wasn’t prophetic. She wasn’t a Slayer. The questions about dreams were probably just a cold read. Like the charlatans at markets claiming to be fortune tellers or psychics or able to talk to the dead. Everyone knew someone with brown hair, everyone had something that was lost, everyone in the world had dreams they couldn’t explain.

That’s all it was. A cold-read from a crazy lady that she'd one day write about in her memoir: Rachel Berry: Untold Stories. 

She grabbed her bag and started to push past Ms Holliday to reach for the door. To open it. To escape. Instead, her wrist was grabbed. 

“Rachel, wait!”

"I really can't afford to be late for my first Math class of the year, so why are you stopping me when, as a teacher, you should understand the importance of punctuality?" Rachel contemplated mentioning how grabbing a student's wrist was also inappropriate behavior for a teacher but decided to hold her tongue, erring on the side of caution.

"Girlfriend, I'm never on time. I was supposed to speak to you this morning, and now it's already lunchtime."

"Why did you ask me to wait, Ms. Holliday?" Rachel sighed, mentally plotting the fastest route from the choir room to her next classroom.

"I asked you to wait because I need more time to explain."

"I do not have more time.I have Math" 

Rachel glanced down at her wrist, relieved when Ms. Holliday released it, seemingly unaware she had been holding it. She instinctively shook her wrist before being drawn back into the conversation as Ms. Holliday continued.

"Can you meet me in graveyard no.3 tonight?"

"You want me to meet you in a graveyard? You? Someone I hardly know? At night? Are you serious?" Rachel hesitated, reminding herself that this woman claimed to be a teacher. "I apologize; that came out ruder than I intended."

Ms. Holliday waved off her apology and continued, "Deep down, you know I'm telling the truth. Those dreams terrify you, and you'd do anything to make them stop. 9 o'clock, Rachel."

With that Ms Holliday left, leaving Rachel alone to think about the events of the last thirty minutes. The lady was right, those dreams really did terrify her. On the other hand, Rachel was late to her first math class of the year. And vampires weren't real. That should have be enough reason to distrust the new teacher.

Nine o’clock found Rachel standing outside the entrance of graveyard no.3. 

She stared out at the rows of tombstones standing erect in silence to the left and right, in front of her and behind, like a sea of the dead. Some were crumbled with the weathering of centuries, some were smooth marble with new black writing and laid with floral tributes. Most though, were overgrown and unkempt, for now even their mourners had joined them under the clay soil. And upon the hill a new grave had been dug to await its new occupant. 

Rachel didn’t really know why she was entertaining Ms Holliday's crazy delusions. She didn’t understand the compulsion that drove her walk to the graveyard during the time she was meant to be filming her myspace video. But here she was in graveyard no.3, why did such a small town like Lima have so many graveyards they were numbered? Why was  she here because of a crazy lady who was nowhere in sight? 

Ms Holliday hadn’t specified a specific meeting spot though, it was possible she had intended for them to meet at the other entrance. She was already there; she didn’t really have anything to lose (other than her sanity) if she just quickly walked through the graveyard to the otherside to check if her teacher was there. Keeping up a steady flow of complaints under her breath at her unnecessary trip outside of her house for an alleged teacher who couldn’t even be bothered to show up, she started to walk through the graves subconsciously taking note of the names on the graves that weren’t crumbling to pieces. 

None of them stood out to her until she came upon one of the newer graves toward the top of the hill. Augustus St James. That was Jesse’s dad. She hadn’t ever actually met the man because much like her fathers, Jesse’s parents were also almost constantly away on business trips - albeit less frequently. She hadn’t spoken to Jesse since Regionals when they had had a short conversation on the phone after the competition agreeing to put the events that had transpired behind them so that in the future they could potentially be friends. Broadway was a small world; there was no point forming a rivalry now when they were bound to be co-stars one day.

Though for a moment, she considered breaking the silence and texting him to find out if he was alright. They would never be together again but she understood him and he understood her. She knew how badly his dad's death would be affecting him. She knew, though, that the moment those gates of communication were open, they would never shut.  And if the Glee club found out they were communicating all hell would break loose. 

They would never forgive her.

Maybe that made her a coward, but Glee was the one thing keeping her from slipping at school and if today had proven anything it was that the people in Glee weren’t as loyal to her as she was to them. 

It was the same instinct that had her dodge Karofsky's slushy that morning that caused her to spin around midwalk. 

That instinct saved her life. For how long though she wasn’t sure. 

A man around middle age was standing a hair's width away from her, causing every cell in her body to scream danger . She was being attacked by a strange man, in a graveyard, in Lima. If she wasn’t so panicked she might actually take a moment to appreciate the sheer drama of it all.  

He wasn’t doing anything though. 

Just standing there, looking at her. 

Calculating. 

Then, he was running at her. Rachel  couldn’t even blink before he was in front of her.

The shriek of terror escaped from her, unbidden, unplanned. 

Rachel turned on her heels, faster than the thought consciously moved through her brain, trying to run away from the man. The man with superhuman speed. 

Unfortunately all her mornings on the elliptical just weren't enough and she found herself pinned to the cold,damp ground. 

Looking up at the strange man, his face started to change. His forehead became bumpy, his eyes turned yellow and he bared his teeth to reveal fangs. 

What the actual hell?

She couldn't breathe.

The strange man with fangs had his fangs to her neck and while Rachel prided herself on her innovation and adaptability she just didn’t see a way out of this. 

Her heart was racing and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save her. 

But no one would, no one was there. 

A choked cry for help forced itself up her throat, and she felt a tear run down her cheek. 

It seemed as if this was the end of the road for her. 

She was going to die at 16 years old, without Barbra Streisand ever knowing her name. 

Then, suddenly, there was Ms Holiday.

And she didn’t do anything. 

She just stood there looking. Assessing. 

She just stood there looking at Rachel about to die as if she was taking stock of the situation before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a stick?

“Vampire” Ms Holiday said, tossing the stick toward her before walking away without even a backwards glance over her shoulder. 

The stick landed on the ground about a hands width away. Unreachable. 

Rachel’s hands remained steadfastly pinned to the ground by the vampire. The stick agonisingly close and yet out of reach. 

Although, what use was a stick? Against a vampire. 

The vampire lowered his head back down from where he had been silently watching Ms Holliday walk away and returned his focus to Rachel and Rachel’s neck. A small drop of moisture rolled down his chin as he examined her.

She didn’t want to die. 

So as futile as it might be she started to struggle. Struggle in the vampire's grip, trying to make him loosen his hold but he only held on tighter. As a last ditch effort she lifted herself up halfway with her arms remaining pinned to the ground and screamed right into the vampire's ear with the highest note she could muster. Unexpectedly, it worked. He let her go to reach up toward his ears, as if to protect them, before realising his mistake. 

It was too late though, Rachel was already up and grabbing for the stick ... no, stake. 

When the vampire seemed to be preparing to attack her again she gave him a solid right kick right into his crotch and then as he was bending over in pain she pulled back her right hand with the stake in it and stabbed. 

She felt skin and muscle give and how was she that strong as the stake made its way into the vampire. 

She locked eyes with the vampire for a second before he exploded into ash, her mouth dropping open in shock. Just in time for some of the ash to get into her mouth and taste vaguely earthy. She spat onto the grass trying to get it out while the last couple of seconds just kept replaying on a loop in her head. She looked up from the grass to see Ms Holiday leaning against a grave looking at her. She couldn’t help herself. 

She exploded.

“He just turned into ash. Some of which landed in my mouth. Which is extremely disgusting and highly unsanitary, might I add. He turned into ash. His face went all weird and he turned into ash. What is going on?” 

Ms Holliday turned around back in the direction of where the body should be and pointed. “Vampire” then she spun back around with a flourish and pointed toward Rachel “Vampire Slayer.”  

“That is not possible. Vampires are not real.” 

Her name was Rachel and denial was her middle name right now. She couldn’t accept this. This couldn’t be her life. There had to be some sort of logical explanation. There had to be.

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” Ms Holliday asked, cocking her head.

Rachel didn’t have anything to say because she really didn’t have an explanation for any of the events that had just transpired. She didn’t have an explanation for why she felt compelled to go to the graveyard, she didn’t have one for why the man decided to attack her, for why his face went all mangled with fangs or an explanation for why he turned into ash after being stabbed by a stake. 

Vampires couldn’t be real but yet she had seen the evidence with her own eyes. If vampires existed like Ms Holiday had said then that probably meant that she had been telling the truth about everything else as well. That creatures from nightmares were real and that they expected her to be the one to deal with them. 

“Look Rachel, when vampires are left to roam about people get killed. People will die, people have died. You are ‘The Slayer’ now. You slay the vampires.”

“No.” Rachel said, shaking her head. “I, I am not this person,” Rachel looked around futilely.“I, I do not want anyone to get hurt but, but I, I am not the right person for this…” Rachel trailed off uselessly before suddenly adding “I am going to be on Broadway.” Like that had any relevance to the fact that she had just been attacked by a supernatural creature. What did vampires care about Broadway? . 

“You’re ‘The Slayer’ Rachel, you were chosen because whether you realise it or not you are the best person to handle this,” with that Ms Holliday walked away and Rachel stood there in the middle of a graveyard covered in ash and holding a stake watching as her figure got smaller and smaller and then finally disappeared.

Chapter Text

Rachel was a proud member of multiple clubs; something that was going to assist her in her multi-page plan to get into a top performing arts college, itself a subcomponent of her multi-page plan - titled ‘ Rachel Barbra Berry’s Life Plan: Broadway and beyond ’ - to shape her entire life. It was a thing of beauty. Rachel had been working on it and adjusting it since she was a mere five years old and first found out that singing and dancing was something she could do for the rest of her life. Be the best at for the rest of her life.

Being a member of multiple clubs meant that she had also been in the offices of multiple teachers, whether that teacher was willing to have her there or not. Ms Holliday’s office was unlike any that she had been in before. Other teachers' offices had a sense of order to them while Ms Holliday’s was pure chaos.

Ms Holliday was still in the process of setting up her new office, with three open but unpacked boxes situated in the corner. The bookshelves behind Ms Holliday’s desk were currently sitting empty. The desk was unkempt. The papers that Ms Holliday had been working on were scattered here and there,as if Ms Holliday had desperately rummaged through them to find an errant document. A black ballpoint pen sat underneath an overturned folder on the left hand side of the desk. Almost unnoticeable amongst the ruckus on the desk, a small portable laptop sat folded under the papers, connected by tangled cords to a wall outlet and a color printer/scanner.

Ms Holliday herself was leaning backwards in her office chair, almost tipping it over as she listened to Rachel make her case. 

Rachel had been the Slayer for three weeks now. Three long, grueling weeks, and she still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it. The whole thing felt surreal, like she’d been cast in some off-off-Broadway horror production where the stakes were real, and there was no script to follow.

Her nights were no longer her own.

Instead of curling up with her Barbra Streisand vinyls or perfecting her next solo, she spent hours patrolling the graveyards around town. Armed with a stake in one hand and a flashlight in the other, she walked through rows of headstones, her breath visible in the chilly night air. The silence of the cemetery was unnerving, broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl or the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

At first, she’d been terrified. 

The weight of the stake in her hand had felt foreign, and the idea of actually using it on a vampire—or worse—was enough to make her stomach churn. Her first few nights patrolling had been a disaster. She’d tripped over a grave marker during a chase, narrowly avoiding a vampire’s claws. She’d dropped her stake mid-fight more times than she cared to admit, and her screams of panic had echoed embarrassingly loud through the graveyard.

But she’d learned quickly. She’d had to.

Now, she was mostly coming out on top, though every fight still felt like a gamble. She’d developed a rhythm: walking the perimeter of the cemetery first, checking for any fresh disturbances in the soil, then moving toward the center where the mausoleums cast long, eerie shadows. When the inevitable fight came, she relied on her instincts - those freaky new Slayer powers that made her faster and stronger than she’d ever been.

It didn’t make her invincible, though. She still got hurt, sometimes badly. Clawed arms, a sprained wrist, a vampire bite that had come too close for comfort - her body bore the marks of her nightly battles. But by some miracle, or perhaps just the supernatural gift that came with being the Slayer, those injuries were gone by the next morning. Bruises faded, cuts disappeared, and Rachel was left looking as polished and pristine as ever when she walked into school, no one the wiser about the chaos of her nights.

Honestly, she was doing more than she needed to. 

Or at least that’s what she thought.

Ms Holliday disagreed.

"Look," Rachel began, her voice strained but determined, "it is incredibly hard to juggle slaying with everything else I have going on." She gestured broadly, as though her whole life were spread out in front of them. "I am doing all AP subjects - every single one - and I am a member of six clubs on top of Glee Club."

Ms. Holliday raised a skeptical eyebrow, but said nothing, which only made Rachel’s words come faster. "And yes, I will admit, I did not give my best performance at Invitationals last week. But do you know why? I hadn’t slept the night before. Between slaying and my assessments, there just was not time."

Rachel leaned forward now, her voice gaining intensity as she continued. "The Glee Club did not hesitate to remind me how much I’d let them down, either. Like it was not obvious to me! But honestly, I would like to see any one of them even come close to what I did with ‘I Want to Know What Love Is.’ Sure, it was mediocre - for me - but my mediocre performance is still better than their best. And somehow, they still expect me to carry the whole team."

Ms. Holliday’s face remained impassive, her piercing stare unwavering.

Rachel sighed, throwing up her hands. "So no, I do not have time for extra Slayer training on top of it. I barely have time to breathe!"

Ms Holliday’s expression softened just slightly, but her tone remained firm. "Rachel, I understand you’re under a lot of pressure. More than anyone your age should be. But this isn’t just about singing or schoolwork. This is about life and death - for you, and for everyone else. You’re talented and capable, but you can’t ignore the fact that you’re also a Slayer. You need to prioritize your training, or none of this - Glee Club, AP classes, clubs - none of it will matter.” Ms Holliday's chair dropped back to the ground as she shat forward. “You're the Slayer now; that’s got to take priority.” 

Rachel begged to differ. Nothing. Nothing took priority over Broadway. And Rachel wasn’t going to allow anything to come between her and her destiny. Not jealous Glee team members and not her apparent calling to be a supernatural slayer.  

“You’ve been coming out the winner in these fights because word hasn’t gotten around yet that the Slayer is in Lima. The minute the news is out, you are going to face a fight you can’t win unless you start taking this seriously,”  Ms Holiday’s eye contact was unrelenting as she stared at Rachel. Allowing her words to dangle in the air. 

“With all due respect Ms Holliday, I have.” 

Ms Holliday let out a scoff but Rachel didn’t let it deter her. She would have to get used to disbelief when she was on Broadway - this was merely practise. Merely child's play compared to the critique she would get from theatre goers and journalists. 

“I do not want to be responsible for people dying,” She says staring Ms Holliday right into her eyes. “But, I cannot do anything more. Not without sacrificing my future, my one chance to get out of Lima. Why should I sacrifice my future for people who will laugh at me if I fail to make it out of this town? I know that it sounds selfish, but when has anyone cared about me here?” 

Ms Holliday leaned forward on her chair before she responded and locked her eyes right onto Rachel's: “Everyone including you, likes to call you selfish Rachel. You say that the only thing that matters is your life and your career and the bright stage far from here but the minute someone dies that you know you could have prevented - that’s going to destroy you. I know it will. So wouldn't it be better to avoid all that pain and heartache by taking some time to train now?” 

The words stung more than Rachel wanted to admit. Ms. Holliday wasn’t listening to her. No one ever listened to her.

Her throat burned as she swallowed down the retort bubbling up inside her. The injustice of it all - the constant dismissal, the endless expectations, the weight of a destiny she hadn’t asked for - it was too much.

Rachel clenched her teeth, her jaw aching from the strain. “No,” she bit out, her voice sharp enough to cut.

Resisting the urge to stomp her foot like a petulant child, she spun on her heel and stormed out of Ms. Holliday’s office, her steps quick and purposeful as she made her way toward the choir room.

Everybody expected so much from her and she was just a girl she didn’t have that much to give. 

It didn't matter. 

They just kept asking more. 

She just had to use her singing voice and her stage presence and every drop of talent in her entire body to help the Glee club win but she had to do it their way and sit down and shut up and never actually ask them to change. 

Her dads expected her to have perfect grades and perfect friends and sing the lead role every time: their perfect, singing, dancing, all-American wonder girl. 

And now Ms Holliday expected her not just to kill monsters from the deep every night but also, somehow, to train and become some a black belt wielding stakes. To commit to slaying with time and energy she just didn’t have. 

And her nightmares didn't stop. They didn't get better. Every night, she died. Brutally. And then she'd wake screaming, heart racing, unsure if she was living or dying, feeling sick to her stomach and unable to throw up. 

Wishing her dads would notice. 

Wishing they wouldn't. 

Wanting it all to stop. 

“Rachel!” Mr Shue’s irate voice pulled her from her thoughts and back into the choir room.

“Yes, Mr Shue?”

“W ould you like to share with us what you find more interesting than participating ?” 

She was briefly at a loss of words for how to respond. It's not like she was the only one not paying attention. Rachel could see Quinn’s head down as she focused on reading the paperback novel in her hands and Puck was doodling on the chair next to him and yet Rachel was the one that Mr Shue decided to verbally eviscerate in front of the club. Really? Yet more impossible standards for Rachel Barbra Berry! 

“It is nothing important Mr Shue, I apologise I simply have not-”

“-You think you're so much better than us do you," Mercedes sneered tilting her head almost triumphantly, " sitting there in your own little world, not willing to grace us with your attention. ” 

“That is... that is not what I was saying Mercedes-” Rachel stammered. 

“-Oh cut it out, you wannabe diva. Everyone knows you think you're better than us. But I have some news for: you’re not -” Kurt's contribution, of course.

She looked over to Mr Shue for help but based on his posture - casually leaned back against the piano - he did not look like he intended to step in and end the attack that he had started.  

“- Your singing, while passable, is ruined by your outrageous fashion sense, and further ruined by the sheer grating personality you have.The only person who thinks you're all that, is you. The rest of us know you're a joke we're forced to put up with.” 

Burning humiliation crawls up her spine as she takes in Kurts words and the silence in the choir room with no-one coming to her defense.

She needed to leave. 

She had to get out.

She widened her eyes to hold off a blink, knowing that will give her a minute of respite before the tears fell.  By which time she would hopefully be outside of the choir room. 

These weren’t even the worst things people had said to her but somehow the fact that it was coming at her when she was sleep deprived - and by people she had considered friends -meant it hurt more. Why had she ever thought they were her friends? It's not like they were nice to her.

“Well in that case, I am going to leave now,” she said, gathered her things and got up to leave. She didn’t see why anyone would stop her since they had been making it very clear how they didn’t want her there.

“Oh don’t be a drama queen, sit back down.” Kurt scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Rachel, leaving right now would be incredibly impolite," Mr. Shue interjected.

Rachel paused for a moment, then reluctantly settled back into her seat. She didn’t want to make things even worse for herself in the club than they already were. 

“Rachel’s behaviour right now actually perfectly leads us into our topic of the week which is Unity, and -”  

Mr Shue continued on, droning about how teamwork makes the dream work and the importance of respecting each other. As if he cared. She sure felt the importance of respect right now. She closed her eyes,trying to drag her emotions back under where she didn’t need to feel it - where her chest wasn't tight and her eyes weren't burning and her throat wasn't choking around tears. Quiet breath in, quiet breath out, quiet breath in - there, all locked down and boxed up and unable to bother her. Now she could focus on Mr Shue’s babbling. And then, blessed relief, the meeting was over and so she was the first one out the door. As she left, she heard Mercedes' mocking voice, in the background insulting her to the laughter of the rest of the group. 

Thursday night was spent the same way she had been spending every night since Ms Holiday told her she was a Slayer, reluctantly patrolling one of the five graveyards of Lima hoping not to run into a Vampire and shrieking with terror when she inevitably did and was forced to slay it. 

“Rachel!” Ms. Holliday’s familiar voice called out on Friday afternoon, cutting through the din of passing students as Rachel was making her way to the carpark to leave for the weekend. 

The weekend didn't mean rest, of course. Not for her! Her weekends were for voice lessons, and dancing lessons, and 5 pages by Monday please and pretending it didn't matter that between all of that she didn't have any time to relax or hangout with friends, if she had them. But, at least her weekends weren't school. 

Besides, the other students in her group classes were far nicer than the members of the McKinley high school hallways. Sure, they didn't try to befriend her and maybe they sometimes, kind of, ignored her. But they didn’t go out of their way to insult her and they didn't throw slushies at her. 

Of course she now had to add slaying to her list. Although, Slaying was only really there because it had to be. 

Rachel stopped mid-step, her stomach tightening. She turned slowly, plastering on her most polite smile, though her jaw ached from the effort.

Ms. Holliday approached her with a casual stride, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her blazer. “Got a minute?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

Rachel sighed, shifting her books awkwardly. “If this is about Slayer training, I really do not—”

“It is,” Ms. Holliday interrupted, holding up a hand. “Look, I get it. You’re busy. You’re balancing, like, fifty different things at once. But you can’t just ignore this part of your life, Rachel. It’s kind of... the biggest part.”

Rachel’s polite mask cracked. “The biggest part?” she echoed, her voice rising. “Bigger than my AP classes? Bigger than Glee Club? Bigger than my future?”

Ms. Holliday leaned against a nearby locker, crossing her arms. “I’m not saying it’s more important than your dreams but it’s definitely not less important. You’ve been chosen for this. Whether you like it or not, it’s part of who you are now.”

Rachel’s books slipped slightly in her grip, and she adjusted them with an exasperated huff. “I did not choose this, Ms. Holliday. It was thrust on me. And I am doing the best I can. But I cannot just drop everything else in my life to focus on... on slaying!”

Throwing her hands in the hair Ms Holliday exclaimed, “If you are so desperate for a break just take it on Sunday.” 

“But it's Halloween on Sunday?” Rachel questioned, surprised. Surely, Halloween would be busy? 

“ Exactly . That’s why.“ Ms Holliday said without elaborating. At Rachel's questioning look Ms Holliday let out a sigh and expanded. “The supernatural beings of our planet find it overrated and corny-'' Ms Holliday pulled out her phone and attempted to show Rachel a picture while talking. “-Not me. Check out my costume” 

Rachel couldn’t make out the image on the small screen but gave Ms Holliday a placating smile. Just to be safe.

The concept of Halloween seemed to have calmed Ms Holliday down from her earlier frustration. Rachel took the reprieve from lecturing with a relieved smile as some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. She had to be sure though.

“Are you sure I can take a break on Sunday? I am not required to be intensely patrolling all of Lima’s graveyards? ” She asked and Ms Holliday shook her head.

“Take the night off. You don’t need to do anything more than a quick sweep for any new vampires emerging from graves but that’s it.” Ms Holliday started to walk away before turning her head and speaking over her shoulder “Use the time to reconsider your choices and maybe think about starting to take this all a bit more seriously.” Rachel watched her leave for a minute before she walked toward the parking area. 

Ms Holliday had a funny idea of what taking the night off meant. Rachel wasn’t ever invited to any of the parties that occurred on Halloween but she would have liked to have had the option to say yes to the party that Santana was throwing. That all the other Gleeks were attending. That is if anyone actually invited her, at the moment she only knew about the party from hushed conversations that stopped the mintue she walked into a room.  Instead she was stuck out here patrolling a graveyard despite Ms Holiday's claim that Halloween was basically dead for the undead.  She couldn’t even practise her song for her MySpace video. When Ms Holiday found out she practised her songs while patrolling she got yelled at.

Tragic as it may be to admit to anyone, even herself, patrolling was better than being at her house, alone in the dark, listening to the sounds of eggs breaking on windows. Knowing that she would have to clean it up in the morning by herself. Better than being alone and hoping the eggs would be the worst they do. 

The sun went down an hour and twenty minutes into her patrol and all she had accomplished was scaring the bejeezus out of a random mourner that she had mistaken for a vampire. The graveyard was kind of dead of the undead. 

Ms Holliday was right. 

Not that she could relax, or let her guard down, or stop clutching at her stake like some kind of comfort baton. Something could still be lurking. She didn't want it to be though because then she'd shriek and stab and shake on the comedown from fighting for her life. Rachel pulled her arms into her chest trying to create some heat. She really had to start wearing a sweater on her nights out. Maybe she should go home? Get a sweater before going to the next graveyard? No. That would be an unproductive use of her time she’d rather just get this over with and go warm up with a nice warm shower once she was home. 

“Florence I’m telling you I saw them with my own eyes. ” 

Rachel jumped at the sound before slowly edging into the darkness and turning in the direction of the voice.

“But why Andre? Why would the Percussorum Noctis be in Lima?” 

Rachel could make out the shadow of two figures standing between the rows of graves in the distance.

“Well, why are they ever anywhere?” 

Rachel slowly creeps towards what she presumes to be vampires to overhear better. She wasn’t going to attempt to slay them though. She hadn’t fought more than one vampire at a time yet and she wasn’t confident in her ability to come out on top: new-found powers or not. She barely beat one baby vampire two days ago. Rachel Barbra Berry knew her limits thank you very much.

The powers were a bonus that she had not been expecting when Ms Holliday had told her about them: faster speed, heightened hearing, advanced healing and strength far greater than she had had in the past. Ms Holliday also said that she would be able to survive off less sleep than the average human but Rachel had yet to experience that. 

Creak. 

The sound echoed through the graveyard and Rachel let out a wince . She had been taking dancing classes since she was three. She had taken classes on walking lightly and yet she still found herself stepping on a stick. 

How could she be so stupid?

“Do you think that ’s them?” one of the voices exclaimed, two octaves higher than previously.

“Don’t be stupid-” the other vampire paused for a second and then “- actually let's go just in case,” the two vampires scuttled away leaving Rachel in the graveyard alone. 

What could the Percussorum Noctis possibly be that made even vampires scared? 

Rachel was a woman on a mission Monday morning. She would have been a woman on a mission Sunday night but she didn’t have Ms Holidays phone number or home address so she had to wait for school instead. She strode through the hallways dodging cheerios and jocks alike in her trek to Ms Holidays office. She didn’t understand what she had overhead last night. Nor did she understand how she knew that it was something other than a normal conversation between two vampires. Ms Holiday had said that things would get more complicated and more dangerous and, as much as she wanted to believe otherwise, she couldn’t stamp out the feeling that this was it. 

This was the start of it .

Whatever it was.

“Rachel!” Rachel looked around to find who had startled her out of her thoughts. Finn, and by the look on his face it was n’t the first time that he had called out for her.

“‘Yes?’ Rachel replied. She didn’t want to be rude and ignore him, but she had no interest in speaking to the boy who’d shattered her heart. After all, he had been the one to pursue her, and now, from the look of things, he was chasing Quinn instead. She hoped that being short and concise would discourage him from making further conversation but when Finn moved closer and leaned onto one of the lockers it was evident that that was not going to happen.

“Can we talk?”

“I am in a hurry right now, can it wait?” Rachel asked, looking down the hallway in the direction of Ms Holliday's office. She needed to go now if she wanted to still make it to class after. 

“A hurry to what? Go practise in the choir room? That can wait . This is important.” Finn said, puffing out his chest. All of the confidence of one who did not expect to be ignored. All of the dismissive superiority of a high-school quaterback.

“Finn, I really need to go.” She gave him a small smile and started to walk away.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Finn’s arm moving towards her as if to grab her - like he had done so many times in the past. She swerved to the side, dodging his grab, and continued to walk away. In the background she heard the heavy thud of a foot colliding with a locker.  

Ms Holiday's new office was on the far side of the school, next to Ms Sylvester's office, and the cheerios locker room. She really hoped  that none of the cheerios who had just finished a gruelling practise under Ms Sylvester would notice her and decide to use her as their favourite frustration releasing punching bag.. Thankfully, other than a hissed “What the hell are you doing here treasure trail?” from one of the Sophomores, she made it to the office unscathed. 

She leaned in, speaking while knocking on Ms Holidays partially open door: “Ms Holiday, may I speak with you?” 

She saw Ms Holliday look up from a paper plane she was busy folding, out of what looked to be some student’s homework, before responding. “Yes you can.” 

Rachel walked into the office and shut the door behind her softly before continuing. Best that no one overheard the conversation she was about to have.

“I was patrolling last night-”.

“- Why girl? I told you a quick sweep - ” 

“-I heard something, ”

“Something actually happened on Halloween?” Ms Holliday said laughing,  “ There's a first time for everything I guess! What did you hear ?”

“I heard two vampires talking,” Rachel says  “they said the ‘ Percussorum noctis ’-” Rachel stopped for a second to reconsider her pronunciation before deciding she had no idea how to fix it even if she tried again “- was in town, ”

“Are you sure that’s what they said?”

“Well I must admit that I am unsure of my pronunciation but otherwise I am confident of my recollection of events.” Rachel said with a sharp nod.

“This is bad.” Ms Holliday stood up from her desk to turn around to the bookcase behind her and pushed some books to the side to pull out an old leather bound book. She opened it up toward the start of the book and began to read outloud.

 “The Percussorum Noctis - ” Rachel definitely had not said it right  “- are a group of vampire assassins established around the 18th century by a vampire called Whelan O’Malley. They are a group of vampires bound together by a common purpose. Not friendship but bloodlust and the wish to achieve that bloodlust whilst attaining the highest possible riches.” 

Assassins, really assassins? She had to deal with assassins and vampires now? Oh no, that would be too easy - she actually had to deal with vampire assassins. 

“So those two vampires last night were talking about assassins being in Lima?” Rachel said once she had gathered her thoughts.

“Yes.” Ms Holliday said nodding, open book still in hand, “Percussorum Noctis is roughly translated to mean Assassins of the Night and they are killers for hire. They are willing to kill anyone for the right amount and they won’t stop until their target is dead.” Ms Holliday shut the book and placed it down on her desk.

“Who are they here for?”

“That Slayer is what you are going to have to find out.” That seemed to be how Ms Holliday intended to finish the conversation as she started to pack up her things. 

That really wasn't enough information.

Rachel sighed to herself she had no idea how she was apparently meant to gather this information nor was she sure it was her responsibility but she didn’t really want to take it up with Ms Holliday after the way she had reacted when Rachel hadn’t wanted to be trained. Skulking around graveyards had told her that the assassins were in town so maybe skulking around a graveyard would tell her why they were there in the first place . 

Mind made up, Rachel walked out of Ms Holidays office and was met with the ice cold sting of a cherry slushy. She closed her eyes on reflex but her mouth gaped open for a second before she shut it. She could feel the slushy starting to drip down her face and into her clothes and saturing them with the ice water and food dye. She opened her eyes again and they stung, either from the slushy or from the fact that for a second she felt like she was about to cry. Once her eyes were open and she blinked a couple of times she looked up  straight into the face of one Quinn Fabray.

“This is our hallway, RuPaul. What do you think you're doing here?” Quinn said with a smirk looking Rachel and her slushy stained clothes up and down. 

Rachel stared at Quinn for a second before gritting her teeth and walking away. There was nothing she could say. There also was no way she was going to make it to class on time now. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, depending on one's perspective, her teachers had grown accustomed to her frequent tardiness, often arriving in different outfits or, on unlucky days, still bearing the remnants of a slushy attack.

Instead of being at home, diligently working on her assessment and processing the day's unsettling news in relation to the vampire assasins, the evening found Rachel in the gloomy confines of Graveyard Number Two. It was her least favorite among Lima's graveyards, with its ancient tombstones and a location that guaranteed a perpetual chill in the air. But it also happened to be the one graveyard where she could reliably count on encountering vampire activity. If there was any chance of overhearing something of importance, it would be there.

Two hours into her graveyard stalking and she still had nothing. 

It was dark, the graveyard was creepy, even more so now that she was aware that it was full with the things that go bump in the night. She had a five thousand word essay due for AP History tomorrow. It was past time for her to go home. She put the wooden cross she had been carrying for protection into her back pocket but still kept a tight hold on her stake as she started her walk home. 

Her attention was broken by the sound of melodic whistling coming from somewhere in the graveyard. Sound carried really far at night and now she understood Ms Holliday's anger at her singing. She might as well make a quick detour to go check it out lest Ms Holliday accuse her once again of not taking her duties seriously. She followed the whistling to a grave around to the north side of the graveyard where she spotted a vampire leaning against a grave reading a book. The vampire looked like he had died sometime in his teens but based on his questionable fashion sense, in his teens a couple of decades ago.

As she got closer she saw that the book was the ‘Count of Monte Cristo” interesting reading choice for a vampire who probably wasn’t even alive when the book was published. She came up with a great quirp in her head about reading something a bit more from this century but she kept her mouth shut so that she didn’t attract his attention. So far her slaying was only successful because she avoided bringing attention to herself until it was too late.

She walked up behind him carefully this time taking care not to stop on any loose sticks until she was touching distance away from him. That’s when she reached into her pocket to pull out the cross and she pounced holding the cross out in front of her with the stake in her other hand.  She used the cross to force him to lie on the ground after maneuvering him to the side of the grave. 

“You have one chance to live. Tell me what I need to know and I will let you go” That was good. 

She got the one chance to live line from a movie she had watched with Finn while they were dating. Back then she found it stupid but now it was the first thing that popped into her head.

“Okay okay. Just get that cross away from me, ” The vampire said, starting to throw his hands up before hissing when one of them touched the cross. He quickly put his hands back down on the ground.

“Do you think I am a imbiccile? Not until you tell me what I need to know.” Rachel said. Not moving the cross an inch, eyes locked onto the vampire. Attuned to the slightest movement.

“What do you wanna know?” He drawled, eyes darting around the graveyard.

“The Percussorum Noctis who are they here for?” 

The vampire burst into laughter at her words. Not really the reaction that she had been hoping for. Maybe she wasn't threatening enough? She attempted to school her face into a more aggressive expression but she had no idea if she was successful as the vampire was still laughing before he started speaking again. 

“You are so not saying that right ” 

The amusement that the vampire was displaying was slightly disconcerting but she reminded herself to focus and pressed onward.

“Is this really the time to be calling me out on my pronunciation problem? Who is their target?” She moved the cross a little bit closer to him and he let out a hiss, laughter trailing off.

“All right, all right chill, it’s the Fabray kid.”

“Quinn?” Quinn’s name left her mouth involuntarily as the implications of who the vampire could mean flooded her.

“Yes, her. Now would you let me go?” The vampire struggled and attempted to move away from where Rachel had been holding him in place on the ground by holding the cross above his chest. She moved the cross even closer to his chest again and he let out a hiss of pain and laid back down.

“Not so fast. Who hired them?” She hissed, mind working frantically in the background. 

Why would anyone want to kill Quinn? 

Quinn had always been this mysterious figure to Rachel, someone who embodied grace and strength. She didn't fully understand why she was so drawn to her, but she couldn't deny the flutter in her heart whenever she saw her. Now, learning that someone wanted to kill her, had hired assasins to kill her was like a punch to the gut. Quinn had her fair share of enemies, that much was clear, but wanting to kill her? 

It was unfathomable.

Rachel had to wonder who could possibly harbor such hatred for Quinn. The mere thought sent a chill down her spine. She'd seen Quinn go through her own struggles, her complex past, and her intricate web of relationships. But to think someone would go to such extremes shook Rachel to her core.

Her mind raced as she pondered what to do. Did Quinn even know about this threat? And if not, should Rachel be the one to warn her? Would Quinn even believe her, considering they didn't exactly share the closest friendship? But then again, no one deserved to be in harm's way.

“How am I supposed to know ?” The vampire drawled looking up at her.

“You expect me to believe that ?” Rachel scoffed  “Who hired them?”

“It’s the truth, I stay away from drama. How am I meant to know why they want the Fabray girl dead? I only found out they were in town today and everyone else knew two days ago which honestly, rude.” 

Rachel  looked up and took a deep breath and then released it. She was closer to answers than she was five minutes ago. She knew who the target was. It was Quinn. Why would anyone want to kill Quinn? She looked back down at the vampire and moved the cross away slowly while her other hand gripped the stake tighter just in case he decided to attack her. 

“Wait, you're actually letting me go?”

“Yes. I promised I would and I keep my promises,” Rachel was immediately doubting her decision but it was too late now. 

The vampire stood up from the ground, dusted himself off and then held out his hand towards her. “Okay, Rad! I’m Steve.” 

Rachel did not shake his hand like he seemed to want and after a second he let it drop to the side.

“Why are you introducing yourself to me ?” She asked incredulously.

“Cause you’re not killing me which is cool . I gave you the information you wanted. So I reckon solid ground for a friendship. ”

“We are not going to become friends. You are a vampire.”

“And I’m guessing you’re ‘The Slayer’. A very bad Slayer but a Slayer nonetheless . Ours is a doomed friendship.” Steve let out a chuckle and remained unphased when Rachel lifted her stake as threateningly as she could manage while still stuck on thinking about how Quinn was the target. “ Okay I’ll go. I’ll see you around Slayer friend,” with that the vampire walked off giving her a little salute before turning away. 

She had to speak to Ms Holiday right away to find out what to do. 

Find out how to stop them from killing Quinn.  She still didn’t have Ms Holiday’s phone number or home address yet. She made a mental note to add that to her to do list and then she made another mental note to make a to do list. She would have to wait till school then . 

She would speak to Ms Holiday first thing tomorrow.

Unfortunately and not for lack of trying she didn’t get any time to speak to Ms Holiday until after the 8th period just before Glee was due to start. Racing against the clock, she hurried down the hallway with purpose, passing Quinn, Santana, and Brittany going the opposite direction, clearly en route to Glee. A fleeting thought crossed her mind – perhaps she should say something to Quinn. However, their expressions when they saw her made her think twice.

She would speak to Quinn later. If she had to. Maybe she could get away with saving her life without her ever being the wiser about it. She wasted no time upon entering Ms. Holiday's office, disregarding her usual politeness due to the urgency of the situation.

"The target is Quinn. They want to kill her," Rachel stated emphatically, searching Ms. Holiday's face for a reaction. 

But when she finally laid eyes on Ms Holliday her reaction was not what she expected. She let out a sigh and then when she started to speak Rachel felt red hot anger beginning to flow through her veins, 

"Rachel, you have to let it go. I've been in contact with the Watchers Council, and it appears they won't stop until their target is eliminated. They'll just keep sending vampire after vampire, relentlessly pursuing her until one succeeds. You have to let this one go. Let them do what they need to do so that they leave.” 

“I am not going to just stand by and let them kill her.” Rachel said, jutting out her chin and standing straighter.

“You don’t have a choice, ” Ms Holliday said, standing up and resting her hands on her desk.

“You always have a choice and I am choosing to protect her no matter what you say, ” Rachel clenched her fist before shoving her hand into her pocket.

“You protect her and you bring a target to yourself and this town. The costs of protecting her outweigh the benefits. ” Ms Holliday poked her index fingure onto her desk in emphasis. 

"I refuse to embrace an 'ends justify the means' philosophy. I have vehemently argued against it in AP History, and I stand by my principles."  Rachel's assertion was an understatement – she had recently submitted a comprehensive five-thousand-word essay opposing the very idea, supported by extensive historical evidence.

"Why her?" Ms. Holliday inquired, tilting her head slightly. "Just the other day, you were arguing that you couldn't commit to slaying because of your future, and now you're willing to risk it all for a girl who, in your own words, has made your life miserable since the first day of freshman year? The same girl who just this morning insulted you and threw a slushy in your face?"

"Wait, you saw that?" Rachel asked, then quickly dismissed the thought. "Never mind that. I want to protect her because it is the right thing to do. She, more than anyone else, deserves a chance to escape this town."

Ms. Holliday raised an eyebrow at Rachel's words but wisely refrained from delving into the complexities of Rachel's feelings. Rachel herself was unsure of how to explain them; they were a tangled web of emotions she couldn't quite decipher.

"I suppose you truly are embracing the Slayer identity," Ms. Holliday eventually commented.

"I am not embracing this Slayer identity you have shoved on me," Rachel countered, shaking her head. "I am simply being a decent human being. But let me be clear, this changes nothing." She met Ms. Holliday's gaze, summoning the intensity of her best 'Mr. Schue, you will not take my solo' impression to emphasize the gravity of her statement. With that, she spun on her heel and departed, heading toward Glee.

She just had to think things through logically. 

She knew who their target was . Quinn. 

She also knew that she wouldn’t be able to stop the assassins which meant that she had to stop them at their source. Assassins get hired; she needed to find out whoever hired them and get them to call off the hit. Thus removing the ‘they never stop coming until their target is dead’ problem. She was thinking the problem through as she walked into Glee only noticing once she was almost at her chair that the room was quiet as everyone, including the perpetually late Mr Shue, was staring at her.

“Nice of you to grace us with your presence dwarf.” 

Just how late exactly was she? A glance at the clock showed her that she was almost thirty minutes late. Considering that she had never been late before and she had just arrived later than Mr Shue had ever arrived she considered their stares to be warranted.

“My apologies, I lost track of time. ”

“You lost track of time down the cheerios hallway did ya,” it didn’t seem like Santana was going to let this one go.

"You cannot banish someone from an entire hallway; that just defies logical reasoning," Rachel retorted, resisting the urge to throw her hands up in frustration. "Ms. Holliday's office is located there, and I was discussing something important with her."

Mr Shue responded to her before Santana could, which was good because from the look on Santana’s face she had been gearing up for a rant.

“That is okay Rachel, just don’t let it happen again. We were just busy running through everybody’s performances about last week's topic. Do you have anything prepared?” 

She did think it was hypocritical of him to be making such a fuss over her being late when he was always late and he never cared if anyone else rocked up late. Nevertheless she did have something prepared that she had worked on in her spare time over the weekend.

“I do Mr Shue. I chose a song from-” She was cut off mid sentence by a sneering Kurt.

“-Wait for your turn. I was actually about to perform a song. It might do you some good to listen to the lyrics Rachel.” 

She let out a little huff and sat down letting Kurt go up and perform his song. When he finished Mr Shue gestured for her to go as she walked past Kurt to the front he hissed at her.

“ Try and top that.” 

She didn’t think she would have to try that hard. Kurt had gone with the rather predictable route of singing ‘Lean on Me’ which while a great song Kurt just hadn’t quite nailed it he was sharp at some parts and flat in others. 

“I chose a song from the musical Carousel called ‘You’ll never walk alone.’”  

As she started to sing she looked out at the Glee club noticing how most of them weren’t even paying attention to her. Santana was busy talking to Brittany. Kurt was filing his nails. Finn looked like he was off in his own world. Only three people seemed to be paying attention Tina, Mike and to her great surprise Quinn. Other than that not even Mr Shue looked interested in her performance. Once she finished it was to a splattering of barely there applause before Mr Shue dismissed them.

Later that afternoon, she found herself standing on the porch of suspect number one. It would be very embarrassing if she turned out to be wrong but that was a risk she would have to take. The only person on her very long mental list called “Who hates Quinn Fabray?” that had both the resources, the money and the power to have requested the hit was one Russell Fabray. So she readied herself and knocked on his door. She started to talk the moment the door started to open.

“Hello Mr Fabray? My name is Rachel Berry. May I please come in?” 

“Berry? Like those two fag-” 

Mr Fabray stood in the doorway, a sort of toddler expanded to adult size, irritation in his anger, a sort of impetuousness. Rachel watched as thin blond hair moved over skin that yearned for more shade and rest. His eyes were on the small side, as if afraid to let the light in; his mouth was small and rigid, as if only used for the sort of smiles that mask cruelty, perhaps born of a lifetime of suspicion and the special kind of superiority that radiates contempt. It was one of those mouths that only twitched upward when a deception was achieved .

She gestured past him into the foyer of the house. “- Please do not insult my fathers, I am not here to talk about them, ” she pushes past him and enters into the house, “we are here to talk about you. ” 

Mr Fabray stumbles a bit from her push before righting himself and going straight into a righteous rant. “What do you think you are doing? I demand you get out of my house right now. I will call the police!” While he was yelling at her he reached into his pocket to pull out his mobile as if to demonstrate that he was seconds away from calling.

“I do not think that you wish to do that. You call the police and I will tell them all about the Percussorum noctis.” Rachel paused for a moment to allow the words to settle before contiuning “You know the assassins you hired to kill your daughter.”

“I don’t have a daughter, ” to Mr Fabray’s undeserving credit he didn’t let any sign of guilt slip into his expression. Rather his expression became even more self righteous than it was previously as he dismissed Quinns very existence in five words. 

“Yes you do and you hired assassins to kill her.” Rachel said stepping forward “What I do not understand is why? Why would you order a hit on your own daughter?” 

Mr Fabrays eyes blazed at her words. “She’s walking around town with her head held high like she was n’t a common whore last year who got pregnant and desecrated my good name.” Spit was flying out of his mouth as his voice got steadily louder, veins in his neck standing out in vivid edges, “she is a blight on this town and she doesn’t deserve to have my name. ”  

“So you admit it? You admit that you hired assassins to kill your daughter?” This felt almost too easy. 

Who just admits to something like that? The answer she guessed was someone so sure of his moral supperiority. So sure that he would never get in trouble and one who believed himself to be above the law. 

“ Yes I do. What are you going to do about it anyway?” Mr Fabray said, face lit up in bitter triumph. “ You and your gay faggot fathers are just as bad. You’re all going to go to hell and nobody, nobody is going to believe you over me. I ’m a good Christian of upstanding character in this town where as you are just the daughter of two fags who nobody likes.” He took a deep breath before adding with a mocking smirk “ I ’m guessing your own fathers don’t even like you since nobody sees them around town anymore. ” 

Rachel swallowed back the sudden lump in her throat and focused on the mission.

“I said leave my fathers out of this.” She spoke evenly, not allowing her voice to shake. “People are going to believe me because of this,” Rachel reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone and turned it around to show him how she had the microphone function on. “Now it might not be enough to convict you due to the whole supernatural element of the assassins. How do you reconcile that with your faith by the way? But it will be enough to make them investigate you and it will, unlike Quinn, actually desecrate your name and destroy your reputation in this town. So I suggest you call them off or I will not hesitate to destroy you.” 

“HOW DARE YOU! ” He thundered. 

“ Easily .” Rachel said, shrugging. “ So are you going to call them off or should I call the police?”

“I’ll call them off.” He said, shoulders dropping  “ Now get the hell out of my house.”

“I will wait,” She nodded her head toward the phone in his hand and leaned against the wall waiting. She could see the internal struggle playing out on his face before he unlocked his phone and started to call . 

That wasn't so hard. She had saved Quinns life with a minimum amount of effort and slaying powers required. 

Take that Ms Holiday. 

Once she left Mr Fabrays house she decided to take a quick detour past the school where the cheerios would be finishing their practice. Just to make sure that the vampires had gotten the message and would leave Quinn alone.

She pulled in to park close enough to see the field but not so close she was in a Cheerios designated spot. This way she would see when practice ended so that she could follow Quinn home ensuring her safety. She wanted to protect Quinn but she didn’t want to sign her death warrant while doing so by parking in a cheerios designated spot. 

She saw him as she was putting her car in park. 

A vampire sulking over near the bleachers but just out of sight. She would have mistaken him for just another creepy janitor if it wasn't for the fact that the light post’s of the football field illuminated his face just enough that she could see it was in full vampire mode: ridged forehead, glowing eyes and all. She jumped out of her car slamming the door behind her. The thud of her car door made the vampire turn and look in her direction.

The lighting from the field illuminated the vampire as a smile crept across his face revealing the fangs. The vampire glanced towards the field where Rachel could see the Cheerios still practising before he started to determinedly walk toward her. It looked like the vampire had decided he wanted an appetiser. She hadn’t thought this through. She was facing a vampire without any of her protection. No stake and no cross. When the vampire reached her she slapped him with her open left hand full across the face. Always go for the unexpected route. Never say Rachel Berry can’t improvise.

It rocked him and he took a step back and then steadied himself, blinking his eyes and staring at her. His headache must have been a starburst. 

As he backed away she followed him, eyes glancing around futilely trying to spot something that she could use as a stake. 

She had to stop him from gaining the upper hand again but how could she do that if she had no weapon to kill him? 

The answer was she couldn’t but she also couldn’t just run and leave Quinn in the vampire's path. She would have to distract him long enough for an oblivious Quinn to get away. As she pulled back her arm to punch him he reacted. 

He  grabbed her arm midmotion and pulled her towards him.

They were standing chest to chest as she looked from the smirk on his lips to his eyes. His eyes were deep and yellow. He didn’t talk; instead, he pushed her to the floor. Rachel swung back around and roundhouse kicked him in the groins, he howled in torment but yet he still chased after her. The skid of car wheels caught her attention and she turned her head to the left. She was worried that the vampire assassin here had some buddies joining him. 

Wait, could vampires drive?

“Get in” and that was Quinn pulling up next to her in her car. 

That was the sound she had heard . How had she missed that the cheerios practice had ended? She looked from Quinn in the car to the vampire. 

She could see the moment that he realised who was in the car. 

The moment his attention switched from killing her to killing Quinn. 

She had to get to the car, to Quinn before he did.

She bolted to the car. She felt her whole body working; her leg muscles running warm, fresh air entered her lungs and blood flowed into all of her limbs. She found herself thinking how is it possible to run this fast? As she opened the car door and jumped in she remembered her Slayer powers. 

“Drive!” she yelled at Quinn as she fasted her seatbelt. 

The only response she got from Quinn was a squeal of the car wheels as they drove out of the school. She watched as Quinn expertly guided the car though the Lima streets at a speed that was towing the line of safe and dangerous while she tried to catch her breath after the attack. But as Quinn guided the car past the entrance to the highway and instead down a road that wasn’t even completely paved she spoke up for the first time since getting in the car.

“Quinn, maybe we should go onto the highway instead.”

“I don’t want to leave Lima. It’s my car I’m driving so just shut up.” There was silence in the car for a few minutes more as Quinn maneuvered the car down the road before Quinn broke the silence “Why was that man attacking you?”

“He was not attacking me, he was trying to attack you. I was stopping him. ” She said plainly and then immediately regretted her strategy.

“ Likely story Berry. Tell me the truth or I’ll make you get out of my car right now,” Quinn took her foot off the accelerator for a second as if attempting to prove her point before putting it back down. 

Rachel glanced around outside the car into the darkness that surrounded them.The nighttime sky was dark as ink and there was no light to break up the dark.

“As far-fetched as it might sound to you Quinn, I am telling the truth. He is after you, not me.” It was too late to change her story. She had committed to it. To telling the truth. “Although I do not understand why because I was under the impression the hit got called off. ”

“The hit? Are you in some sort of gang now?” Quinn scoffed “ Is that why you’ve been acting so weird lately ?” 

Quinn noticed she had been acting weird? Why was Quinn even paying attention?

“I am not in a gang and I am insulted that you would even think that. I can assure you that-” Rachel said indignantly, shocked at the thought.

“-Berry be quiet, ” Quinn hissed as she looked over her shoulder and out the back window.

“Quinn-”

“-I’m serious, be quiet I think I hear something.”

Iin the silence of the car Rachel could hear the sound that Quinn had been talking about. It was a soft but high pitched squeal coming from the car. It went on for a couple more seconds before the car skidded to a stop in the middle of the deserted road from hell. 

“ It is probably just a flat,” Rachel said as they got out of the car. Quinn didn’t respond to her statement, rather choosing to say.

 “I’ll call Santana to come get us. ”

“You really think Santana is going to let me get in her car?” Rachel asked, giving Quinn a look. 

Quinn didn’t respond to that either but she let out a soft sigh as if she knew Rachel was right. Otherwise Quinn said nothing as she pulled out her phone only to let out another sigh as it flickered on.

“There’s no reception here. ”

“Of course there isn’t but if we had done what I said and-” Rachel started.

“-Because what you say is always right, right Berry?” Quinn retaliated sharply . “Your way or the freakin highway!”

“My way was the highway. Whereas your way was an ominous looking road which nobody in their right mind would choose to drive on!”  

The attack came out of nowhere. She had been so distracted arguing with Quinn that she had ignored the prickling sensation at the back of her neck. One minute she was about to continue with her argument with Quinn having just prepared a scathing barb and the next she was in the air.

Flying.

Falling. 

When she landed, she felt her leg pop out of place and then pop in, with this tearing sensation inside of her knee. 

Well that one was going to hurt till it eventually healed. 

If they lived long enough for it to heal. A soft gasp escaped from Quinn and Rachel saw how she started to move closer towards her from where she had still been standing next to the car.

“No Quinn. Stay there!” The words escaped Rachel's lips with a hiss of pain, but she infused them with her trademark determination. 

Pushing herself up from the ground, she clenched her teeth against the agony, refusing to show any more vulnerability to the vampire. With unyielding resolve, she rose to her feet and moved forward, ignoring the sharp jolts of pain radiating up her leg. She drew inspiration from her musical theater idols before fixing the vampire with a resolute, unwavering gaze.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" Rachel inquired, her voice firm and steady. 

The vampire regarded her with the condescending patience one might offer a child they were indulging, then gestured towards Quinn. "Killing her," the vampire replied. 

Rachel paid no attention to the soft gasp that emanated from Quinn's direction as she responded to the vampire's chilling declaration.

"The contract was canceled. Why are you still here?" Rachel's retort was swift and unwavering. She resisted the temptation to glance at Quinn, fully aware that doing so might shatter her composure.

“I never leave a job unfinished no matter what, ” the vampire said with a shrug, baring his fangs.

“Well you are going to leave this one unfinished or you are going to have me to answer to.” Rachel said, stepping closer, ignoring the flash of pain moving up her leg at the motion.

“You? Why would I be scared of you? You’re just a puny little human.” The vampire scoffed as he looked her top to bottom.

 She set her face to ‘casual indifference.’ Her only way out was for the vampire to overestimate her skill level, to assume her lack of fear came from mastery instead of a raw nerve. And she had to hope it would be enough to chase him off. “My name is Rachel Berry and I'm ‘The Slayer’. She is under my protection so I suggest you get out of Lima and do not even think about coming back.”

“So you’re the new Slayer.” The vampire said. Gaze turing caluclating. “We were wondering why nobody had heard from you. We thought it was because you were hiding like a little bitch.”

“Well that is obviously not true and if that’s not true then it stands to reason that the reason you have not heard about is because,” Rachel paused as if to give him some time to think before hissing “They are all dead.” 

That finally seemed to do the trick as the vampire nodded at them before scurrying away. Rachel stood still and stared at him until finally she couldn’t see him anymore. That was when she allowed herself to drop and embrace the pain.

When she woke up, she was in the backseat of Quinns car and the pain in her leg had faded to a dull throb. She looked up and around trying to place herself. Looking around she spotted a flat tire next to the car. So it had been a flat after all before spotting Quinn staring at her through the open window of the backseat. She waited for Quinn to yell at her to demand an explanation but surprisingly the first thing out of Quinns mouth was a soft,

“You okay Berry?” 

“I am okay, thank you for asking. ” Rachel said slowly as she blinked a few more times to orient herself.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” Quinn exclaimed  “You very obviously dislocated your leg then decided to be even more of an idiot and walk on it.”

“How do you know that ?”

“I’m the captain of the Cheerios. Someone gets injured at least once during practice and stop trying to change the subject. What just happened?” For once Rachel found herself at a loss for words she didn’t know if she should tell the truth or lie. “Don’t lie to me I’m serious,” well that answered that question. 

She would go with her gut. 

Her gut was saying that if someone had tried to kill her she’d want the truth. 

Quinn deserved the truth.

“So…” she hesitated for another second trying to find the right words. “Vampires. They exist. I kill them.” 

If Rachel could go back in time she would. She would go back in time to when Ms Holliday explained things to her and take back thinking how incompetent she was at explaining things. 

A shocked laugh escaped from Quinn before she responded, “You’re kidding right.” 

This time Rachel decided to go with a tried and tested Ms Holliday response. “Well how else would you explain what just happened?” 

Quinn was silent for a moment and just as Rachel was congratulating herself on getting through this conversation unscathed a flash of anger went across Quinns face before she hissed back at her.

“You know what manhands, I just can’t deal with you anymore.” Quinn moved away from where she was leaning against the car to get into the front seat of the car “I’m taking you home but shut up before I change my mind.”

“My car is actually at the school,” Quinn didn’t respond to her verbally and only gave a short curt nod before turning on the car and beginning the drive back. 

In the slow rhythmic movements of the car Rachel found herself falling into a dreamless sleep.

Rachel was startled awake by the honking of the car horn. When she looked around she saw that they were pulled up next to her car at the school.

“Get out. ”

“ Quinn-”

“ I said get out Rupaul!” 

It didn’t seem like she was going to get anywhere with Quinn the way she was . So she quietly got out of the car and as she was turning around to say thank you Quinn was already driving away. 

The next morning, Rachel found herself at the school unusually early, a restless sense of responsibility gnawing at her. As she leaned against Ms. Holliday's office door, waiting for the woman to arrive, she couldn't help but replay the events of the previous day in her mind. The encounter with the vampire had shaken her to her core. She had been so sure of her persuasive abilities, convinced that she could talk her way out of any supernatural threat without resorting to violence.

Rachel's thoughts drifted to the Cheerios practicing on the field nearby, their peppy routines contrasting starkly with the danger she had narrowly averted. Over the sounds of their cheers, she could hear the sharp and mocking tones of Sue Sylvester berating her squad.

As she reflected on her misplaced confidence, guilt began to weigh heavy on her. She had risked Quinn's life with her arrogance, and if she hadn't managed to bluff her way through that tense conversation with the vampire, Quinn would have paid the price. Rachel's breath caught at the thought of losing Quinn the supernatural forces she was now entangled with.

It was this overwhelming sense of responsibility, the knowledge that she couldn't afford to make another careless mistake, that drove her to confront Ms. Holliday as soon as the woman arrived. She couldn't wait for the usual formalities, not when Quinn's life had hung in the balance.

"Quinn almost died, and it would have been my fault." Rachel admitted as soon as Ms. Holliday approached. She met the woman's gaze with a rare vulnerability in her eyes, desperately seeking a way to make amends. "I will do the training," she declared firmly, determined to gain the skills and knowledge necessary to stop something like last night from ever happening again..

Ms. Holliday turned to look at her, and there was understanding in her eyes. She nodded in acknowledgment of Rachel's commitment. 

"When do we start?" Rachel asked, her voice unwavering now that she had made her decision.

"I thought you'd never ask," Ms. Holliday replied with a faint smile. 

She swung the office door open, inviting Rachel inside. As Rachel stepped into the office, the door clicked shut behind her, sealing her fate to a path of supernatural training and responsibility. The weight of her choices and the safety of humanity rested squarely on her shoulders.

Chapter Text

Before the sun even thought about showing its face, Rachel found herself outside Ms. Holliday's house ready for her daily "Slayer 101" training session. This early morning routine was a far cry from her old habit still being snug in her bed at 5:30 AM, just minutes before her 6 AM alarm. But things had changed in the last week since her near brush with Quinns death, and Rachel had changed along with them, though not without some nagging uncertainties. 

While Rachel had reluctantly accepted her fate as the slayer and was no longer content lingering under the covers of her bed while being blissfully ignorant of the supernatural lurking around Lima, Ohio. She still found herself questioning her abilities to be this ‘predestined’ slayer of supernatural threats. The gravity of what awaited her weighed heavy on Rachel's mind. She just didn’t understand how she, a glee obsessed teenage girl, somehow held the fate of humanity on her small shoulders. She grappled with the fear that she might crumble when the going got tough. The fear of failing and the lives that would be lost should she fail haunted her dreams mixed in with the same constant never ending dream of her dying.

The guilt, the idea that lives could be at stake if she made a mistake, both drove her and added to her anxiety. As she stood there, ready for another day of training, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was tiptoeing on a tightrope, just one misstep away from disaster. The world beyond remained blissfully oblivious to the secret battles fought in Lima, and Rachel was determined to push through, even if her own doubts were like a pesky mosquito buzzing in her ear.

Once Ms Holliday let her into her house they walked into the room that had been converted into a space for practical training. The room was a testament to their shared purpose, a space where Rachel would hone her skills, confront her fears, and embrace her destiny as a slayer. Here, the battles were simulated, but the lessons, all too real. Meanwhile, Ms Hollidays  living room hosted the theoretical aspects of her training, discussions about demon identification, and other occult matters.

"Scratching a vampire with wood doesn't do much except make him wicked cranky," Ms. Holliday quipped, her stake gesticulations adding a touch of humor to the otherwise serious topic. "You wanna aim for the heart, every single time. When you've got four or five of 'em coming at you, there's no room for being picky, you know what I'm saying?"

Rachel nodded, ensuring Ms. Holliday knew she was giving her complete attention. Clear emotional signaling had been one of the key takeaways from her "Theatre 101" lessons during that memorable summer between middle school and her freshman year at McKinley.

"So, today's training exercise is all about precision, no matter how many enemies you're up against," Ms. Holliday explained, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "I wanted to bring in some real vampires to raise the stakes, but the Watchers Council shot that idea down. They called it 'a great miscarriage of your duty as a Watcher and highly unsafe.' Can you believe it? What a bore, right?"

Rachel did not agree, her gaze fixed on the stake she was absently spinning in her hand. "I must admit, they seem to have a point in this particular situation," she replied. But then, curiosity got the better of her. "On that note, though," she continued, "are you ever planning to enlighten me about this Watchers Council?"

Ms. Holliday, predictably, deflected the question with her characteristic evasiveness. "God, you're such a bore too," she teased before moving to fiddle with some metal buttons on the wall. 

Rachel watched with a mixture of bewilderment and patience until Ms. Holliday finally seemed satisfied with whatever she had been doing. Wordlessly, she gestured towards the sparring mat at the center of the room, the unspoken message clear – it was time to get down to business.

Rachel was still rubbing her side where one of the ‘ fake vampires’ had hit her as she slid into her chair in the choir room for Glee club after school. As usual, she was the first one to arrive, followed closely by Quinn. Quinn however made it a point to not look at her while she took a seat and pulled out a book. They hadn’t spoken since the night Quinn found out about vampires. Honestly at this point Rachel would settle for a slushie to the face if it meant that Quinn would acknowledge her existence again. 

She wasn’t going to think about why that was.

Just as she was considering making use of the time alone with Quinn to go speak to her, Santana and Brittany walked in followed slowly by the rest of the group bar Tina and Artie. The sound of an argument interrupted the various conversations in the room as everyone got quiet trying to hear what the argument in the hallway was about. It seemed like Mercedes and Kurt were about to get up to get closer to listen in when Brittany chimed in.

“It’s getting closer.” 

Brittany was right. The angry words were getting louder as the argument seemed to be making its way down the hall. 

“.. . What do you mean I’m…” 

Rachel couldn’t make out the rest of the words and didn’t want to ask anyone if they could make out the words not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention on herself.

“Not...to be…...rude ...have to admit...”

“You are...” The final words of the argument were undeniable as the argument entered the choir room. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“You’re kidding right?” Tina’s voice was shaking but her clenched hands at her sides seemed to give away exactly how she was feeling about the turn of events.

“No,” Arite, unlike Tina, seemed to be perfectly put together and had no external ticks showing that he was anything less than nonplussed about the cessation of his relationship. 

“You ’re going to regret this. I swear you are going to regret this. ” Tina hissed at Artie.

“See this is exactly why I’m breaking up with you.-” Artie looked set to continue but Tina was executing a Rachel Berry-esque storm out. The only thing lacking in her opinion was a footstomp. 

The choir room was deathly silence with the kind of silence that you only ever find in a room filled with people who had just witnessed an awkward social situation and had no idea how to react. They were saved from their blank gaping at Artie by Mr Shue walking in.

“Hey guys” he paused for a moment and glanced around the room. “What did I miss?” 

Nobody looked like they were going to answer him so eventually he sighed and continued. 

As she listened to yet another Glee club meeting pass with no preparation for Sectionals she let her mind drift to her plans for the rest of the day.  Rachel had more time on her hands in the afternoons now that she had dropped out of all of her other clubs besides Glee to make time for training and slaying. 

By more time she meant that she had thirty minutes. 

An extra thirty between her afternoon routine and homework and when she had to be at the graveyard patrolling. Which was better than the alternative of not dropping out of clubs. She had done the calculations and she would actually be operating in the negatives of hours. She would have more things to do than time to do them. Unless she took out sleep, but, Ms Holliday had informed her that her powers did not include being able to function without sleep. So for the sake of taking slaying seriously she had no choice other than dropping out of all clubs except for Glee. She still had her weekend classes though and she was already bracing herself for when the time would come that Ms Holliday wanted her to drop them too.  

She came back into the present when Mr Shue clapped his hands together.

“That’s why your job for this week is to find songs that fit the theme of,” Mr Shue was walking toward the chalkboard while speaking “kinship” he paused for a second to scribble ‘kinship’ on the board before spinning around and finishing off his sentence “I want you to dig deep this week and I can’t wait to hear what you come back to me with.” 

Rachel wished she had heard more of what he had been saying in the lead up to announcing the theme for the week because honestly what sort of theme was kinship? All though all his themes tended to come back to supporting each other and being a team despite differences while at the same time not practising what he preached.

Excited chatter broke out though the room as her teammates started talking to each other and making plans while paying her no heed. She waited for a bit until Kurt and Mercedees left the room to start packing up her things not wanting to be attacked for thinking she was better than them. 

That had happened last time she left the choir room first. 

She left the choir room and walked toward the bathroom that was conveniently located just a couple of classrooms down.  She was washing her hands and inwardly singing ‘Happy Birthday’ for the second time (she had read that that was the optimum time for handwashing and it was a ritual that stuck with her) when Quinn walked in.

“Why did you quit the Celibacy Club, Treasure Trail?” 

She guessed Quinn was done ignoring her. 

And right back on the insulting her route.

She took a second before responding, finishing the last bit of the song in her head and turned off the tap before turning around to face Quinn. 

“Quinn, I quit last year. Are you just now taking notice? Why does it suddenly matter?”

Quinn appeared unimpressed by the invocation of the passage of time when she continued speaking. “Everyone else quit so now it’s just me and Miss Pillsbury, who blushes every time the word sex is even mentioned.” 

Rachel walked over to the hand dryers as Quinn was talking but she didn’t want to be rude and use it during the conversation so she ended up allowing her still wet hands to fall uselessly to her side.

“I am sorry to hear the others have abandoned their stance on celibacy,” Rachel said, because she really didn’t know why Quinn thought that was relevant to her now. 

Why after everything with the vampire, the slaying, the almost dying this was how and what Quinn decided to speak to her about. 

Celibacy club.

“You’re joining again,” Quinn said. “There’s a meeting today in ten minutes and you ’re going to be there.”

“No,” she was tempted to go back just because Quinn asked and she didn’t want Quinn to go back to ignoring her but at the same time she just didn’t have time for it. 

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. I am not joining the celibacy club again. I thank you for your kind request but unfortunately I have to decline due to prior commitments. ” 

She decided that that had to be the end of the conversation and turned around and started to dry her hands. She waited for the sound of the bathroom door closing to signal Quinn leaving but it didn’t come until Rachel had almost finished. 

The next morning Rachel walked into McKinley later than usual because ‘Slaying 101’ had run longer than usual. Due to Ms Holiday's insistence that Rachel couldn’t leave until she successfully achieved the move she was being trained on; she was still struggling with killing multiple vampires at once. 

She walked into a warzone filled with shrieking and teenagers cowering on the ground. She glanced around trying to find the source of the pandemonium when a shout caught her attention.

“Duck! Berry.” That was from Kurt, normally she wasn’t prone to doing anything Kurt told her too but by the state of the school she thought this might be one of the few occasions Kurt was actually being nice to her so she ducked. Glancing up from under her bangs she saw the source of terror. 

Birds. 

Birds were swooping every student in the halls. A bird had come within a hair's breadth of hitting her head. A bird would have hit her head if it hadn’t been for Kurt.

"Silence, students. Silence," Principal Figgins' voice reverberated through the loudspeakers, momentarily quelling the chaos that had gripped McKinley High. 

The shrieking and frantic commotion subsided as students anxiously awaited his words. It was indeed a day of unexpected events, a day where Kurt's warned Rachel of impending doom rather than watching silently, and a day where students clung to the hope that Figgins would offer guidance and assistance.

But that hope swiftly dwindled as Figgins continued, his tone unwavering and resolute. "First, an announcement," he declared, addressing the pressing issue at hand. "The birds in the hallway are of unknown origin. We are actively working on resolving the problem. However, let me be clear: there will be zero tolerance for anyone found attempting to leave the school grounds."

A collective murmur of concern and confusion rippled through the captive audience. Students exchanged anxious glances as they grappled with the absurdity of the situation. The birds inside the school, menacing and relentless, seemed hell-bent on their indoor assault, despite open doors and windows offering an escape route to the outside world.

Figgins' voice remained stern as he concluded, "Please make your way to your classes calmly, taking care to avoid the birds. We appreciate your cooperation." His words hung in the air, met with a mixture of compliance and defiance.

In the midst of his announcement, a group of determined individuals had congregated near the exits, clutching various objects above their heads, as if prepared to fend off the avian intruders. The birds outside had remained relatively docile, while those inside the school attacked students with a relentless determination, disregarding the open pathways to freedom.

The chances that this wasn’t supernatural was very low so she decided to take her chances of missing her first class of the day and go to Ms Holliday’s office. A quick glance around the school's disheveled interior confirmed that she would not be the only student opting for a different path today.

Collecting her bag, Rachel held it protectively over her head as a makeshift shield against the menacing swoops of the birds. The avian assailants seemed relentless, their wings beating furiously in the confined spaces of the school's hallways.

As she gingerly navigated the treacherous terrain, Rachel couldn't help but feel a pang of unease. It was in one such evasion, where she ducked to avoid a swooping bird, that her bag's zipper betrayed her, and one of her stakes slipped free, clattering to the floor.

Her hopes of this minor incident going unnoticed amidst the pandemonium of the hallway were abruptly dashed when saw Finn bending down and grabbing it. 

“What is this?” Finn said standing back up, stake in hand.

“It is a...” for once in her life she was caught for words she scrambled for a potential excuse “prop for a musical.”

“You’re not in a musical at the moment though.” 

Now was when Finn chose to pay attention really? 

Rachel thought fast before improvising. “Not a school musical, it is for a musical I am doing though Lima’s community theater-” She gestured vaguely with her arm and reached out toward Finn hoping that he would give her back her stake without asking anymore questions.

“Yeah okay, whatever.” Finn passed the stake back to her as he continued talking, “Can we talk now?” He didn’t even pause to allow her time to answer as he kept talking “You’ve been acting really weird lately and I want to know what’s up with that?” 

Rachel clenched her hands at his words and took a deep breath. “Why?” She responded slow and measured.

“What do you mean why?” 

Rachel listened to Finn's tirade, her expression a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. As he questioned her, she couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration building within her. 

“You’ve been acting weird and stopped contributing to Glee as much and while it’s nice that you’ve finally stopped demanding solos all the time you can’t let whatever personal crisis you’ve got going on at the moment affect Glee.” 

She couldn't help but scoff internally. Personal crisis? Is that really what Finn thought? He had no idea what was happening in her life, and he dared to judge her?  

“It’s not okay and you need to stop thinking the world revolves around you and actually care about other people. So seriously what’s going on with you?” Finn ended his rant and took a deep breath and looked over at her for her response. 

She felt herself fill with righteous indignation as she took in how casually he had insulted her numerous times in one breath and now had the audacity to expect an answer from her. “Since you dumped me, twice might I add, I do not understand how my behaviour at present is of any relevance to you. I am not sure why you are under the misguided impression that you are entitled to an explanation from me.” She spun on her heel and stormed away, not paying attention to his frustrated “Hey!” from behind her. 

Her anger fueled her all the way to Ms. Holliday's office, Rachel deftly dodging the relentless bird attacks, her agility reminiscent of a Hitchcock movie where frantic scenes played out amid feathery chaos. Her recent proficiency in dodging slushies had unexpectedly equipped her with the reflexes needed to evade the swooping knives that were the birds' sharp beaks.

Entering Ms. Holliday's office with a sense of urgency, Rachel began to speak almost immediately, her voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

"I have been slaying vampires for about two months now," she exclaimed, her words laced with incredulity. "So I have seen some pretty weird stuff, but birds randomly attacking students? That is new."

Ms. Holliday, unfazed by the unusual situation, simply nodded in agreement as she walked back to her desk. Rachel, however, was eager for a solution.

"So...?" She let the question linger in the air, her gaze fixed on Ms. Holliday, awaiting a response. When none came immediately, she continued, albeit with reluctance, "What can be done to rectify the situation?"

Ms. Holliday strolled over to the bookshelf behind her desk, pulling out an old leather-bound book. Without hesitation, she tossed it toward Rachel, who fumbled for a moment before securing a firm grip on it.

"The answer to our little situation with the birds should be in there somewhere," Ms. Holliday explained cryptically.

Rachel eagerly cracked open the book, only to find a disarray of Latin letters that failed to form any coherent words she could comprehend. She looked up from the pages, feeling a pang of frustration.

"This book doesn't make any sense," she stated, expecting guidance or assistance.

In response, Ms. Holliday rolled her eyes, treating Rachel's comment like that of a naive child.

"It's in Latin. It's a supernatural book; most of those are in Latin," Ms. Holliday explained matter-of-factly, as if this should have been obvious to Rachel all along.

Rachel flipped through the pages once more, hoping to decipher any semblance of meaning but came up empty-handed. She couldn't help but express her frustration.

"I haven't acquired the ability to read Latin yet," she muttered under her breath.

Ms. Holliday, ever the stern mentor, didn't offer any sympathy. Instead, she delivered a characteristic directive.

"Figure it out, Slayer," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

With a resigned nod, Rachel acknowledged the challenge and silently left Ms. Holliday's office.

After Rachel finished her patrol that night she sat down with the book and her laptop and attempted to research what was going on. After an hour however the most she had come up with was that the book was Archaic Latin not classical, which would have been helpful if it didn’t mean that any chance Rachel had of being able to decipher it in even a vague way flew out the window. 

Which left her with only one option. 

One option that she really didn’t want to have to use but as the hours passed that option was becoming more and more clear to be the only option.  

Right at the start of Freshman year before Quinn was the most popular person in the school and Rachel was still paying close attention to Quinn she had noticed something. That, behind the bitchy blond cheerleader exterior Quinn was very smart. So smart that she had taught herself a variety of languages out of interest. One of which was Latin. Hopefully that included Archaic Latin and not just classical. But even a classical translation would help more than the nothing that she currently had. 

That’s why the next day, she found herself leaning next to the door of Classroom 169, as she waited for the Celibacy Club meeting to finish. It seemed like Quinn had managed to convince Santana to come with her and Santana had brought along Brittany but other than those three and Miss Pillsbury the classroom was empty. She could see why Quinn had been trying to get her to come back yesterday. What she was overhearing was painfully depressing. Why Quinn was trying to keep this sinking ship of a club afloat was beyond her. 

She was psyching herself up for the coming conversation. There was nothing Quinn was going to say to her that she hadn’t said to herself. She was doing this to help people. Quinn would understand that. Underneath everything Quinn was a good person. Quinn had saved her life while she was trying to save Quinn so honestly maybe this wouldn’t go too bad. 

Who was she kidding? This was going to go terribly.  

Santana and Brittany left the room holding pinkies and giggling which meant that she went unnoticed lingering by the door as she was . When Quinn walked out she pounced.

“Hi Quinn, it is Rachel,” she chanced a glance at Quinn's face as she was speaking. 

She was furious. What she was furious about though Rachel wasn’t sure. It was either that she was daring to speak to Quinn or the fact that she was outside the celibacy club but hadn’t bothered to go in. Most likely it was a combination of those two things. 

“I am assuming that that death glare you are aiming at me right now, means that you are about to punch my face, but I implore you to hear me out. And to avoid my nose if you can, I really cannot afford breaking it because as you know- “ Quinn’s glare intensified so Rachel decided to get to the point quickly. She took a deep breath and continued on “nevermind. I need you to translate something for me.” 

There was a moment of silence as a flicker of surprise crossed Quinn's face before she responded.

“You. Need. Me. To. Translate. Something. For. You?” 

Definitely frustration, whatever interest had flashed across Quinn's face had been pushed aside to make way for frustration. What would be the best way to deal with this? 

Information overload.

“ I have a book. In Archaic latin . I need to deal with the bird situation due to the whole ‘I kill vampires and other supernatural creatures thing’  so it is imperative that I be able to read this and understand how to get rid of them. Hopefully, I mean. Not- Not that there is anything to worry about that is, I am certain I have it covered. Probably....Anyway! I need you to translate it for me so I will be able to do so, since I know you have an affinity for Latin, and as much as it pains me to admit, I do not um- I do not know how to do it myself. So...will you help me?"

“Slow down Berry, ” Quinn glanced at Rachel before continuing. “How do you know I know Archaic Latin ?”

“I paid attention.” 

“Why?”  

Because she used to have a crush on Quinn before she realised exactly how unlikely that was of ever panning out. Before she had been tormented by Quinn for so long she started imagining various payback schemes when she was trying to fall asleep at night to distract herself from other unachievable fantasies. 

“That does not matter.” Rachel said with a quick shake of her head. “What matters is will you translate this for me?” She pulled out the book from her bag and tried to hand it to Quinn. “I put sticky notes on the pages I need you to translate. ”  

Quinn glanced down at the book but made no attempt to take it.“Gold star sticky notes?” Quinn said raising an eyebrow,

“Gold stars are my thing,” she pushed the book in Quinn's direction again to try and get her to take it. 

Finally, Quinn slowly reached out and took it. 

“Metaphors I know. Translating this will get rid of the birds?” Quinn glanced warily at one of the birds sitting on top of a row of lockers seeming taking a break from a constant bombardment at helpless students.

“I will definitely endeavour to do so.” Rachel said with a sharp nod.

“Fine,” Quinn flicked through the pages of the book and then started to walk away.

“Wait. Quinn.” Quinn didn’t turn around but she did stop and that was all the permission she needed to continue “How long-”

“It’ll take as long as it takes manhands, ” and with that Quinn walked away. The flapping of wings was all the warning Rachel got before the bird was swooping at her. 

It was time to go.  

Thursday morning found her once again nursing injuries after training with Ms Holliday as she sat at the piano in the choir room. Taking a break from the non stop bird attacks outside in the hall. She started going through her scales in an attempt to stop her thoughts from wandering. 

Once she had finished practicing her scales she started practising a song that her piano teacher had given her over the weekend to broaden her ability beyond her slightly limited but still advanced scope. Her thoughts were sufficiently pushed aside as she focused on not tripping up on the chord progressions. 

“I didn’t know you could play the piano. ”  

Quinn’s voice broke her concentration and she spun around on her chair almost wrapping her feet around the piano legs and falling in the process but she managed to catch herself. 

She attempted to shrug off the embarrassment as she started to respond. “I did not wish to give the population of this school in particular the Glee club, yet another reason to insult me and accuse me of showing off. Therefore I made the conscious decision to remain silent about my piano playing ability.” 

Well that was word vomit if Rachel had ever experienced it. What was it about Quinn that got her defences down?  

“Um, actually wait, why am I telling you this? Why are you here?” 

Rachel looked at where Quinn was standing. Just inside the doorway to the choir room and saw a flicker of something across Quinns face before it returned back to its blank bitchy facade and she responded.

“It’s a spell. Someone cast a spell on us,” Quinn let out a slight scoff “Mark that down as something I never thought I would say.” Quinn walked closer to where Rachel was still sitting at the piano while she spoke.

“Oh, ” Rachel was suddenly stuck without words. 

She honestly had expected Quinn to take the book and never give it back to her or she had expected Quinn to take a couple of days. The fact that Quinn was here bright and early the very next day meant that she would have stayed up late translating the book. 

The book that Rachel had asked her to translate. 

“That book listed the common causes of which there were only three.” Quinn reached into her bag that was hanging from her shoulder and pulled out the book while speaking. “ First we are actually living in Australia. Second was a whole thing about the positions of the stars and the number of orbits around the sun that have been made since June last year. I did the math and that option wouldn’t be possible yet even if the stars were in the right position. And the third and last was magic i.e. a spell. Someone cast a spell. ” Quinn opened up the book and pointed at a particular paragraph as if expecting Rachel to suddenly be able to read Latin and understand what she was pointing at it.

“That does not make logical sense. Why would anyone cast a spell like that on McKinley? If they cast one on a particular student or faculty member that would be one thing but the whole school?” Rachel said, looking between the book and Quinn.

“You may be right, the question isn’t what the spell is, but who would have cast it?” Quinn shut the book as she spoke.

“To know one we need to know the other. Do you not think?”

“Well at the moment this book you gave me has nothing in it regarding what the spell could be so…” Quinn trailed off and gave Rachel a pointed look. 

Rachel stood up from where she had still been sitting at the piano and took the book from Quinns hands giving it a quick flick through while she started to speak. “I will go speak to Ms Holliday and find out what to do with this new information.”

“Ms Holliday?” Quinn said before Rachel saw her clench her jaw shut. 

“She is my Watcher.”

“Berry, what in god's name is a Watcher?” Quinn exclaimed.

“To be honest I’m not completely sure,” Rachel says with a soft laugh “Ms Holliday says that every Slayer has a Watcher. To the best of my knowledge the Watcher trains the Slayer and just in general tells the Slayer what to do. There is also apparently some sort of council of Watchers but I do not have the slightest knowledge of what that is.” She snapped her mouth shut. 

It was the second time in just one conversation that Rachel found herself unable to control what she was saying around Quinn. Volunteering more information than what Quinn had asked for.

“Someone tells you what to do?” The words came out of Quinn with a scoff. “Nobody tells you what to do.”

“Well Ms Holliday tries,” Rachel felt a smile break out across her face as she glanced at Quinn before walking past her and leaving the choir room. 

Walking to Ms Holliday’s classroom when she was meant to be in her first period class she pondered the fact that she had had a civil and semi friendly conversation with Quinn. Maybe something good was coming out of the whole slaying thing after all. 

The hallways were remarkably empty that morning, as the few people that had bothered to come to McKinley with the attacking birds were all safely in their classes or hiding out in empty rooms away from the birds. That meant that she managed to make her way to Ms Holliday’s office completely slushy and insult free. She knocked on Ms Holliday’s door and waited for permission to go in before speaking.

“So according to Quinn it’s a spell.” 

Ms Holliday’s head shot up from where she had been sitting at her desk marking, to meet Rachel’s eyes with a pointed stare.

“According to Quinn?”

“I got her to translate the book.” Rachel said as she shut the door behind her. 

“You can’t be telling people about the supernatural!” Ms Holliday’s voice rose in pitch as she half stood up from her chair before sitting back down. 

“You should have told me that at the start then because I told Quinn a while back.” Rachel shrugged. 

How else did Ms Holliday think that the car ride with Quinn had gone with the vampire chasing them? Ms Holliday had known about the car ride. Did she think Rachel had just not said anything?

“The existence of the supernatural is not something that can be thrown around as if it’s common knowledge and unimportant. It is a great secret that has been kept with the greatest confidence for centuries and you are going around handing it out to any passing acquaintance. If you can even call what Quinn is to you, an acquaintance.” 

Ms. Holliday's words carried a weighty gravity, and Rachel felt the intensity of her conviction. The vehemence with which Ms. Holliday spoke startled Rachel, but her irritation at being chastised overshadowed any surprise she might have felt.

Ms. Holliday's demeanor struck a nerve with Rachel. The sharpness of her tone and the implication that Rachel had been careless with a long-held secret stung, making her wonder if she was more upset by the way her Watcher spoke to her than by the actual substance of her lecture.

She sighed inwardly, trying to keep her frustration in check as she replied, "I shall bear that in mind." Rachel's sarcasm seemed to sail right over Ms. Holliday's head, the elder Watcher giving a curt nod before speaking again.

"Magic works differently than the way you see it in popular literature. It's a formula," Ms. Holliday explained, her words drawing Rachel's attention back to the ongoing conversation.

 Rachel took a moment to process the shift in topic, realizing that Ms Holliday was now addressing her previous statement about it being a spell.

Rachel listened intently as Ms. Holliday continued, delving into the intricacies of magical workings. Her explanation painted a picture of complexity, a world where words were more than mere incantations. Instead, they formed intricate, interwoven patterns, linking deities, individuals, actions, and consequences. Rachel absorbed this information, her fascination growing as she grasped the meticulous precision required for such spells to succeed, or conversely, to avoid unexpected, possibly disastrous outcomes.

As Ms. Holliday illustrated with her hand movements, Rachel inched closer, eager to comprehend the nuances of this magical art.

"No such thing as a one-word spell then?" Rachel queried, seeking clarification.

"They do exist, but their power is far more limited compared to these binding spells," Ms. Holliday responded, her tone thoughtful. "The simple spells are typically used for benign purposes, like making water warm or causing a pencil to float. The magnitude of power and control needed to orchestrate what's currently happening at the school suggests it must be a binding spell. Whether the gods or goddesses summoned in these spells truly exist can be debated, but the undeniable fact is the immense power these spells wield when invoking these figures."

Rachel absorbed this insight, finding it both enlightening and intriguing. "Interesting," she remarked before delving further into the matter. "But which binding spell would this be?"

A subtle smile graced Ms. Holliday's face as she rose from her chair and retrieved yet another book from the shelf and handed it over to Rachel. 

Rachel flicked through the book. 

Archaic Latin. 

Again. 

She hadn’t even looked up from the book to comment on that fact to Ms Holliday before Ms Holliday spoke again.

“Figure it out Slayer,” with that Ms Holiday walked toward her office door, opened it up and gave Rachel a pointed look. 

That seemed to be that then.

Ms Holiday had been slightly helpful Rachel guessed but she was honestly still drawing a bit of a blank on how to proceed from here. She had gotten Quinn to translate the previous book but what was the chance that she would be willing to translate another new book for Rachel.

Again. 

Although, Quinn had translated the old book without even putting up that much of a fight. So maybe Quinn would translate this one for her as well. It was worth asking, she thought. Plus Quinn had gone through and translated all those parts of the old book last night which meant that maybe she had already come across a section on binding spells and they wouldn’t even need to translate this new book.

She had skipped first period AP Calculus to go and speak to Ms Holiday. Which was a class that she shared with Quinn. If she went and hung around there while trying not to be caught by the teacher she would be able to catch Quinn in between first and second period. To find out whether Quinn knew anything or if she would be willing to translate the new book. Rachel nodded to herself, confident in her planning abilities. Her to-do list, titled "Solve the Bird Problem," now had three items with two checks: One, speak to Ms. Holliday; two, translate the book (subsection A: get Quinn to translate book). The third addition was simple: Three, ask Quinn to translate the new book. Beyond that lay a daunting, unchecked box: "No more birds."

Her thoughts led her all the way to her first period class room. She stopped before walking past the window and hid out next to the lockers and out of sight. She glanced at her watch; she only had to kill ten minutes before the first period would be over. She would use that time to attempt to mentally go through potential suspects. She was pulled out of her thoughts by the bell. It was just as well since her thinking had produced no suspects. Granted she had gotten distracted ranking Barbra’s iconic discography but that wasn’t important. 

She looked up and glanced around for Quinn, she didn’t have to wait too long until she spotted Quinn walking down the corridor while glancing upwards at the birds. Rachel reached out and grabbed Quinn. The look Quinn shot her was pure HBIC before it surprisingly lessened when she realized it was Rachel.

“What! Why did you grab me manhands?” The words were harsh but the way Quinn said them lacked a certain bite to them. 

Rachel decided to dive right into it rather than attempt to make small talk first. She had no idea how long Quinn would tolerate speaking with her. 

“Ms Holiday says that it will have to be something called a binding spell. She also gave me this book,” Rachel held out the book toward Quinn. She could see how Quinn hesitated for a second before reaching out and taking it from her. “Binding spells are allegedly extremely convoluted. Which means that anyone performing that advanced level of magic would need to be someone well versed in the art of magic, who was confident enough that they would not make a mistake which could have disastrous outcomes. Therefore it would have to be a bonafide proper witch.” 

Quinn shook her head at Rachels words and let out a soft sigh.“First vampires and now witches and magic. No wonder houses in Lima are so cheap.” The words were soft, almost under Quinns breath, Rachel had to strain to hear.

“How do you-”

“-My mother’s a real estate agent. That’s not important.” 

Rachel wanted to press Quinn about that some more but Quinn gave her a piercing glare that brought back memories of some particularly hurtful barbs she had experienced on behalf of Quinn in the past so she moved on. She nodded her head toward the book she had given Quinn and spoke again.

“The book Ms Holliday gave me is also in Latin could you-” She was interrupted mid sentence by Quinn.

“Translate it for you as well? Sure. I’m going to be late for class.” With that Quinn shoke Rachels hand off her arm and walked away. 

Rachel hadn’t even realised she was still holding Quinn's arm until then. Rachel allowed a smile to cross her face as she mentally ticked off box 3 on her to-do list ‘Ask Quinn to translate the new book’ as she walked toward her next class.

Lunch time found her in the choir room again but unlike previous lunches she wasn’t practising for Glee but rather attempting to obtain some information from the internet regarding binding spells. 

It wasn’t proving very useful. 

“I’ve been doing more research on these binding spells you mentioned and there isn’t any one spell that does exactly what is happening. The closest I found were two spells that might have been joined if that is possible? A bird conjuring spell and an attacking spell.”

She was pulled from her concentration by Quinn’s voice. That was becoming a surprisingly frequent occurrence. Rachel wanted to ask when Quinn had had time to obtain all that information if lunch had barely started but she decided not to press her luck.

“I presume that that should be possible but I can double check that with Ms Holliday,” Rachel quickly ran through options in her mind. They now potentially knew the spell so that should mean they could undo it right? “Does that say how I can reverse it?” She gestured towards the book Quinn was holding in her hand.

“It does,” Quinn said slowly “but in order to reverse it you need to know the source of the spell.” 

Okay so that was a bit of a problem.

“How can I find out who cast the spell?”

“It’s not much help now but once we have some suspects I know a way.” 

That seemed to be all Quinn was going to say. Rachel meanwhile had two thoughts fighting for dominance in her head. Quinn had said we. She had very clearly said we right after Rachel had said I that was the first and most prominent thought . The second one was how did Quinn know how to find the witch? 

“That book you loaned me on binding spells, it had some stuff in it.” Obviously Rachel had taken too long responding so Quinn had answered what she had assumed the problem was. 

“Okay so once,” she hesitated for a second “we have a suspect, what do we do?” 

“We need some Mercury and Nitric Acid as well as some of the suspects hair-”

“-The book said that?” In Rachel’s experience Ms Holliday’s books were not that helpful.

“Actually the book said Quicksilver and Aqua Fortis but that is just a magical way of saying mercury and nitric acid. Then you heat up the two ingredients and put in the hair. If the hair turns blue it means they’ve done magic within the last week and if it burns up it means they haven’t.” 

“That does not make sense.” She shook her head. Her recent experiences have introduced her to many things which don’t make sense. Such as, birds attacking students. “So honestly that probably means that it will work.”

“Why do you sound so surprised? It’s magic.” Quinn paused almost mid sentence and let out a slight scoff “Magic, okay that’s not something I ever thought I’d say.” Rachel wanted to respond to Quinn but the bell rang out signaling the end of lunch and Quinn suddenly stopped looking as approachable as she had just seconds earlier “Whatever Berry, we can try and figure out who did this after Glee.” 

Quinn didn't leave Rachel any time to respond before turning and walking out. Rachel glanced at her laptop and the clock on the choir room wall and for a second considered skipping the rest of her classes to focus on research before she realised how totally ridiculous that would be. So she packed up her things and headed out. 

At 3:15 pm, Rachel found herself back in the choir room, marking her third visit that day. Glee had welcomed a new member, Sam, whom Rachel suspected might have joined simply to escape the relentless bird attacks. However, when Mr. Schue had Sam audition, Rachel was pleasantly surprised. His voice, though somewhat unrefined and lacking proper warm-up, showed undeniable potential. Mentally, Rachel began sifting through song choices that might complement his vocal abilities. Sam had a certain leading-man quality, a talent that intrigued her.

However, the moment she voiced this thought aloud to the choir room, she received bewildering glares from Kurt and Finn. Their reactions puzzled her; complimenting Sam or herself shouldn't be seen as an insult to them. Sam possessed vocal qualities that Finn couldn't replicate, and although Kurt had a fantastic voice, it didn't always align with the leading male roles.

After Sam's audition concluded, and the club regained its composure following her suggestion about his potential as a lead male, Mercedes took the spotlight to perform her song for the week's theme, "Kinship." Once Mercedes finished her performance, Rachel couldn't help but offer her thoughts.

"That was an admirable attempt at that song, Mercedes," she began, her tone earnest. "While it might not be entirely within your vocal range, you gave it a shot, and it came out remarkably well, with only occasional flat notes. I genuinely believe that with some more practice—"

"Oh hell to the no!" Mercedes interrupted, her voice laden with irritation as she moved closer to Rachel from her position at the front, clearly upset. "I know you did not just insult—"

"That was not my intention—"

"- Shut up and listen to me, Rachel," Mercedes cut her off, her frustration palpable. "I have more talent in my little finger than you have in your entire body, and you're just jealous because you know you could never—"

Rachel slowly clenched her fist and then unclenched it, trying to maintain her composure. She began to respond, her voice measured, "Mercedes, I—"

"Oh, just give it up, Rachel," Mercedes continued, her tone dismissive. "It's not that we don't like you—" She started to speak, only to be interrupted by Kurt mid-sentence.

  "- Actually, it is. Sorry, Rach." 

Kurt's words had a way of being both cutting and seemingly innocuous, leaving Rachel perplexed. He delivered his barbs with a smile, as if unaware of their impact or as though he considered them mere statements of fact. Santana, on the other hand, was more straightforward; her cruelty was deliberate and purposeful. But with Kurt, the lines between insult and compliment blurred, making it all the more challenging to respond.

Rachel opened her mouth to reply, only to be silenced once more by Kurt. "Nah-ah, shhhhh," he interjected, leaving her exasperated.

Searching for support, Rachel scanned the room, but her fellow Glee club members remained silent. Frustration and anger left her breathless as she rose from her seat and walked out. She thought she'd be immune to the sting of their treatment by now, but the hope that someone might come to her defense still lingered, only to be repeatedly dashed.

Time and time again.

As she was walking towards her car while navigating the bird-infested hallways, Rachel recalled Quinn's earlier mention of investigating suspects after Glee club. An annoyed huff escaped her lips, and she turned back toward the choir room. However, she had no intention of reentering. Her emotional defenses had been battered enough, and she knew that a few more well-placed insults from her fellow Glee clubbers could shatter them completely—something she couldn't afford to allow.

She headed into the bathroom that was a couple of doors down from the choir room fully understanding just how much of a loser it was making her that she hid out in the bathroom rather than facing her fellow team mates.The same team that professed to be a family but often treated her as though she were somehow less than that. 

As she settled into the solitude of the bathroom, Rachel's self-pitying reflections were disrupted by the door swinging open, announcing the arrival of another person. Quick as a reflex, she huddled her legs up on the toilet seat, desperately trying to blend into the background, invisible to the newcomer.

"Ring ring ring." 

The familiar chime of Tina's ringtone confirmed her presence. Tina's voice carried through the bathroom, answering the call.

"Hello?" There was a pause as Tina presumably listened to the voice on the other end of the line. "I was just calling in regards to those herbs on your website... I was wondering if they were still available?" 

Rachel listened intently, puzzled by the unexpected conversation unfolding beyond her stall. Herbs? What could Tina possibly need herbs for?

"They are, would I be able to come pick them up this afternoon?" Tina's tone carried urgency now, and Rachel strained to make sense of it. Another brief silence followed, during which Rachel envisioned Tina pacing while speaking. "I understand, but it's urgent. Is there any way you could make an exception?" A sigh escaped Tina's lips as she considered the response.

Rachel watched through the slight gap between the stall door and its frame, her curiosity piqued as Tina continued her conversation. 

"No, okay, I'll come pick them up tomorrow morning, I'll skip school." 

Tina paused, her pacing halting just outside Rachel's stall, and for a moment, Rachel feared being caught eavesdropping, albeit unintentionally. 

"I told you it's urgent." Another silence, and Rachel could sense Tina growing increasingly flustered. "Okay, I can be there in..." Tina checked the time, a sense of urgency in her voice. "Twenty minutes. Would that be okay?" From Rachel's vantage point, she saw Tina making a beeline for the bathroom door while finalizing her phone call. "See you soon. Thank you so much."

Rachel's mind raced with questions as she contemplated what could be so important that Tina sounded so rattled during the conversation.

Rachel glanced at her watch again, five minutes till the end of Glee and because of Mr Shue’s very bad coaching he never really saw the need to keep them practising until the very last minute so by now the club would be packing up and leaving. The bathroom door opened and shut again as another person entered.

“Berry?” 

“Quinn?”

"I saw you sneak in here like a loser and then never leave, so I assumed that you were waiting for me in the bathroom," Quinn commented, her tone dripping with sarcasm. 

The emphasis she put on 'bathroom' left no room for doubt about her opinion of Rachel's actions. Rachel imagined Quinn raising an eyebrow if she could see her. A surge of shame washed over her as she climbed down from the toilet seat and opened the bathroom stall door.

"I did not want to go back on our agreement, but I also had no desire to return to Glee club today after their horrendous treatment—"

"Chill, Berry. We'll wait for them to clear out, and then we'll go to the choir room and try to figure this out."

"We can go to my house?" Rachel suggested.

"I'm not going to your stupid house, Manhands." Quinn's tone was dismissive, but Rachel chose to ignore it and press on.

"Choir room it is, then." Rachel moved toward the bathroom door, bypassing Quinn, and peeked out to see if the choir room was empty yet. She barely touched the door when Quinn's voice cut through her thoughts.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was sharp and displeased although Rachel wasn’t sure why.

“I am just checking if the Glee club has departed from the choir room yet?” Quinn rolled her eyes when Rachel finished speaking.

“Obviously not Berry! I was the first one to leave. Kurt was still prattling on about solo’s when I left.”

“He is not taking away my solo from me,” Righteous indignation filled her and she was prepared to open the bathroom door and storm into the choir room and give them a piece of her mind. 

Before she felt Quinn's hand suddenly touch her on the shoulder and startle her away from her furious thoughts. 

“No one is taking your solos, Berry. Let’s just wait a bit, okay?”

Rachel was so startled by Quinn’s seeming niceness for the third time that day that she just nodded and leaned against the bathroom door to wait. Before suddenly remembering the amount of germs in a bathroom and choosing to stand normally instead.

A few minutes later, Quinn's voice shattered the uneasy silence that had settled in the bathroom.

"They should be gone by now. We can go." Quinn suggested, prompting a nod from Rachel. 

Rachel opened the bathroom door, confirmed the choir room's emptiness, and stepped out, with Quinn following suit. When she arrived in the choir room, Rachel briefly hesitated about where to sit before deciding to take her usual spot. Quinn, on the other hand, chose a chair just one seat away from Rachel.

"So, what do you have?" Quinn gestured at Rachel. 

"Uh?" She stammered, her brain racing to catch up and understand what Quinn was referring to.

"Suspects! You're apparently this mysterious vampire killer now, instead of just the Broadway freak we all thought you were. So, tell me your suspects." 

Quinn's words snapped everything into focus for Rachel, and she mentally chastised herself for not immediately grasping Quinn's meaning.

“The official name for what I am is a Slayer, and while yes I am apparently a Slayer now, it is a new development and while I have been persevering, I tend to find myself slightly over my head. I quite often find myself thinking that there's been some big cosmic mistake regarding my being this Slayer and that one day I will wake-”

“-Berry! Breathe.” Quinn interrupted her from where her ramble had started to pick up steam. 

She was actually thankful for the interruption. She knew from bitter experience that sometimes when she started rambling anxiously she couldn’t stop.

“I apologise, Quinn.” Rachel said before taking a deep breath  “In response to your question, I do not at present have any suspects but I am sure that that is just a temporary setback.” 

“No suspects, okay that’s not great. What do we have then?”

“You know everything I know,” Rachel threw her hands up in the air with exasperation. “Ms Holliday is being completely exasperating. All she ever says is ‘figure it out Slayer.’ It has reached the point where I think she just does not want to admit that she is completely clueless as well.” Rachel trailed off unsure of what else to say. 

Quinn stood up from her chair and turned around to look at Rachel as she started speaking. “So what we do have is as follows: The birds started attacking two days ago, the birds existence is supernatural and is a result of a binding spell and that binding spells are complicated, so any individual using them must at least know more than a little about magic.” Quin paused and looked at Rachel as if expecting a response. When none came she kept going “Correct?” She gave Rachel a rather pointed look until she responded.

“That is correct.” Rachel nodded in response before thinking that she must look completely ridiculous and stopping.

“So that’s not nothing. That’s something,” Quinn walked back to her chair and put her bag on top of it and ruffled through it before pulling out the book “Do you still have the other one?” 

“Yes.” 

Quinn looked at her after she responded before Rachel blushed and reached under her chair to pull her backpack and with it the book out as well. When she took it out she looked at Quinn who held out her hand until Rachel passed her the book. 

“Since you can’t read Latin and I can, I'll go through these books again and you can attempt to do some research on your laptop. The question, Berry is, what are we researching?” Quinn gave Rachel a meaningful look, even though Rachel suspected that Quinn already knew their intended research topic. 

It helped Rachel feel more in control to sound authoritative.

"We need to figure out why someone might want to cast this sort of spell, so we can determine who could cast it, and eventually identify the caster. Alternatively, we should explore if there's a way to undo the spell without identifying the caster. I know you said it might not be possible, but it's worth researching anyway."

“Anything else?” Quinn probed.

“We should see if there is a spell or some other method to figure out who cast the spell if we cannot come up with suspects any other way.” Rachel nodded to herself that sounded authoritative and like she knew what she was talking about. 

Quinn didn't say anything in response; instead, she retrieved a notebook and pen from her bag and then pushed her bag off her chair, settling down to work.

Rachel did the same, opening her laptop. While her success rate with online research without Ms Holliday's provided texts was usually low, she had discovered two websites that offered relevant and, to her knowledge, accurate information. She opened these sites on her laptop and began her research.

“You know what Rachel?” 

Rachel jerked her head up from where she had gotten invested in her research and with a quick glance to the clock on the wall she noticed that they had been sitting there in silence for more than thirty minutes. They had been sitting there amicably without any arguments for thirty minutes, that had to be a record in the history of Rachel and Quinn. 

“What?”

"I have to ask. I've been trying not to, but I have to ask about this whole Slayer thing. When did it happen?" Quinn paused, her voice tinged with curiosity. "How did it happen?"

"You care?" Rachel's surprise was evident. 

Over the past twelve days since she'd found out about Rache’s secret, Quinn had shown no inclination to dig for more information. Even during Rachel's minor freakout earlier, Quinn hadn't asked any questions or probed further. So Quinn's question caught her off guard.

"Don't ask me why, but yes," Quinn replied. Her expression was difficult to read, but it stirred something within Rachel, making her want to open up just a bit. 

She had been desperate to talk to someone about it. Ms. Holliday, while aware of the situation, didn't seem like she would tolerate Rachel rambling and freaking out about it.

"I started having nightmares a couple of days before school started. That is when it began, according to Ms. Holliday, when the last Slayer died, and I became the new one."

"Died?" Quinn clenched her jaw, and Rachel noticed the knuckles of her hand gripping the pen turning slightly whiter.

"That's how it works, apparently. One Slayer dies, and another takes their place." 

Quinn wasted no time in firing off another question. "How many Slayers are there?"

"Only one," Rachel replied. "At least, that's what Ms. Holliday told me. One Slayer at a time, and then whenever they die, another takes their place."

"You can't die, Rachel," Quinn stated vehmently, surprising Rachel.

"That was my thought exactly," Rachel agreed. 

Quinn didn’t respond to what Rachel had said. She seemed to still be stuck on the whole dying thing if the look on her face was any indication. 

"I'm sure it takes years before a Slayer dies. For all I know, the last Slayer lived to old age." Quinn didn’t say anything but a muscle in her clenched jaw twitched so Rachel decided to press on. "But to answer your question, while the nightmares started before school began, I wasn't aware of this great cosmic responsibility until Ms. Holliday told me on the first day of school. I killed my first vampire that night, and let me tell you, it was an eye-opening, stressful experience."

"What did Ms. Holliday tell you?" Quinn's words were measured and deliberate, as if she were carefully choosing each one to shield her emotions.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked, her curiosity piqued.

"When she told you that you were the Slayer, did she say how they chose you? Or if there's any way not to be the Slayer anymore?"

Rachel sighed, her frustration evident. "Trust me, I have told her countless times that I am not the right person for this job, but it seems like the world is stuck with me. When you are chosen, you are chosen, and according to Ms. Holliday, it is time to 'Sack up.' I am not exactly sure how I was chosen, though. She said there are many potential Slayers out there, and I was one of them. But they were not expecting me to be the one."

"You shouldn't have been." 

Even though that was what Rachel had been saying the entire time for some reason hearing Quinn say it made the words cut deeper. 

"Hey! I know I am not perfect, but I am trying my best. I saved your life, didn't I?"

"That's not what I meant, Rachel," Quinn replied, her voice tinged with an emotion Rachel couldn't quite decipher.

"What did you mean, then?" Rachel probed further, but Quinn released her grip on her pen, giving her hand a soft shake and shaking her head.

"It doesn't matter. Let's just focus on our research." Quinn's ice queen persona returned, effectively shutting down any more questions from Rachel. 

Reluctantly, Rachel nodded and returned to her laptop, where she had been delving into methods for identifying witches. While some of the results were useful, most assumed that all witches were female, a misconception Ms. Holliday had already corrected.

Rachel was deep into a website discussing the casting of various spells when a realisation hit her like a ton of bricks. Quinn possessed knowledge of the spell that had been cast, while she remained ignorant, and that knowledge could be invaluable.

"How would the original spell have been cast?" Rachel asked abruptly, her eyes shifting from the screen to Quinn.

Quinn, caught off guard by the question, responded with a puzzled expression, "Huh?"

"It just occurred to me that while we have established that it is a spell, a binding spell at that, I, I am not aware of the particulars of how it would be done, whereas you are."

Quinn nodded, her face displaying a look of understanding. "Okay, uh, according to the second book, whenever a witch casts a binding spell, they have to do it while sitting in a circle of various herbs." Rachel felt a nagging sense of familiarity, but she couldn't quite place it. "The herbs used depend on the spell, and they would use a special type of flame to set the herbs on fire while chanting the spell. Then they extinguish the blaze with a spell-specific liquid."

Rachel tilted her head slightly as a memory surfaced. "Is 'herbs' the usual term? Or is it like earlier when you simplified the magic term?"

"It's both the official and simplified term. For once, they're one and the same," Quinn replied, her shoulders lifting in a casual shrug. "Why do you ask?"

“Tina was talking about needing some herbs urgently on the phone earlier, and I was surprised that Tina was partaking in that particular pastime, that is all." Rachel explained, humming thoughtfully. "She just doesn't seem like the kind of person that would subject her lungs to the harmfulness that particular hobby provides, nor does her particular personality suggest that she would, so you can imagine why I was shocked. But I am realising now that maybe she was talking about herbs in the more magical sense of the word...Which while also shocking, is less shocking than if she was taking part in the drug scene at McKinley." Rachel pauses here, lingering in her speech, before her eyes widen. "That does begat the question though-”

“- Berry!” 

Rachel takes a deep breath.“Um, sorry, based on the new information that you have provided and the information that my quote hiding in the bathroom unquote, has provided us. I suggest we add Tina to the suspect list. As unbelievable as that may be, though not as unbelievable as her taking drugs and proceeding from there.” 

“Tina?” Quinn hesitantly enquires.

Rachel stands up from where she’s sitting and starts pacing while making her point.“The situation as it stands at present is that someone has cast a spell, a complicated one at that. We have no knowledge of anyone showing proclivity toward magic other than the fact that Tina is seeking some magic ingredients in a manner of urgency. Since we have no other suspects it seems to me that we have no choice other than to pursue Tina as a suspect even if for no reason other than removing her from our suspect list.” 

Rachel looked at Quinn who pursed her lips and then nodded.

 “Could you obtain the ingredients that you said you would require to determine if Tina has done magic and I will work on obtaining, what was it you said? Her hair? And then we can reconvene tomorrow over lunch then? Unless you would prefer I carry on from here myself?  If that is the case I completely understand. I would just request that you provide me with the information regarding determining if Tina is in fact the magic caster.”

“Don’t be a moron Berry. I’m not bailing now. I’ll get the mercury and nitric acid for you.” 

Quinn didn’t give Rachel time to respond before standing up, taking her bag and leaving. 

They seemed to have reached the end of their cohabitating for the day although Rachel was surprised at Quinn’s willingness to continue assisting her. Rachel started to pack up her laptop and mentally added yet another box to her mental checkbox. Number four, Get some of Tina’s hair. That might be one of the more complicated aspects of this whole situation. How could she get some of Tina’s hair without her becoming suspicious? She decided to spend her nightly patrol statergising on that very matter.

It was ten o’clock at night during Rachel’s first graveyard patrol that she got hit with the sudden idea that could be a solution to her ‘hair dilemma’ so she allowed her feet to take her all the way to Tina’s front door. Ignoring the fact that doing this would drastically increase the time before she arrived home due to the fact that she would have to double back to finish her graveyard patrols afterwards. Knocking on the door, it was answered by a woman she vaguely recognized from the crowd during sectionals.

"Hello, Mrs. Cohen-Chang, I presume? My name is Rachel Berry, and I am in the Glee club with your daughter, Tina. I was hoping to speak with her if I may," Rachel explained.

"It's ten o'clock at night," Mrs. Cohen-Chang responded skeptically.

"I assure you, Mrs. Cohen-Chang, this is a matter of utmost importance," Rachel insisted. 

Tina’s mother gave her a look that showed Rachel just how likely she found that before she opened the door more fully and gestured for Rachel to come inside. 

Once Rachel was inside, Tina's mother shouted upstairs to inform Tina of the visitor. Tina's confusion was evident when she appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Kurt?" Tina began, but upon closer inspection, her expression shifted to one of greater bewilderment. "Rachel?"

Tina looked puzzled as she locked eyes with Rachel. Rachel gave Tina's mother a small, reassuring smile and made her way toward the stairs. She didn't want Tina to come to her; instead, she needed the conversation to happen in Tina's room to execute her plan. Fortunately, it seemed that Tina agreed because she began walking down the hall and opened a door halfway down for Rachel to enter.

“Rachel, why are you here?”

“I have a matter of the utmost importance to discuss with you regarding the events that I heard took place in Glee club today after I had departed due to the unnecessary-”

“You came here at ten o’clock at night about Glee?” 

Tina and her mum seemed to have an unnecessary obsession with the time. 

While yes Rachel could conclude maybe ten o’clock at night wasn’t the best time to show up at someone's house unannounced, the level of fuss Tina and her mum were making about the time seemed unnecessary. 

“Yes? What else would I have come here about?”

Rachel paused for a second, knowing that it was futile but hoping maybe Tina would confess right now with barely any effort on Rachel’s part it had worked with Mr Fabray afterall. When after pausing for a second Tina still hadn’t responded she continued onwards with her plan instead.

“I heard that Kurt was talking about taking my solo’s and that cannot stand.” Rachel needed to figure out a way to get Tina out of her room so that she could snoop around “I am rather thirsty could I trouble you for a glass of water?”

Tina looked at Rachel with a look that Rachel had gotten quite used to in her life, a look that basically just said ‘Are you for real?’ Before Tina let out an audible sigh and turned around and headed out, presumably to get Rachel her glass of water. A glass of water wouldn’t take that long though she needed to stall Tina just a little bit longer incase she needed some more time so she walked to the door and looked out while Tina was walking down the hall.

 “Some ice too please Tina, I simply cannot drink room temperature water. It is incredibly detrimental to my voice.”

Tina let out another exasperated sigh, clearly annoyed by Rachel's demands for water and ice but otherwise didn’t respond. Rachel seized the opportunity to snoop around the room while Tina went to get the requested items.

Her first order of business was to collect a sample of Tina's hair from her hairbrush, carefully placing it in a plastic bag she had brought for this purpose. Rachel took a moment to appreciate the importance of planning ahead, a characteristic she believed was essential for success.

With the hair sample secured, Rachel began to investigate the room further. Tina's tidy room made her snooping easier. She noticed some books in Latin on Tina's desk, which struck her as odd. Why would Tina have books in Latin if she wasn’t the one responsible for the birds? She jotted down the book titles on a loose sheet of paper, planning to look them up later or ask Quinn for their translations.

Rachel tried to convince herself that the evidence against Tina was circumstantial, but it was more than they had on anyone else. Just as she heard footsteps approaching, she quickly ensured that everything was back in its original place. When Tina returned to the room, Rachel had resumed her previous position, waiting for her return.

“I have your water, Rachel,” Tina said, handing over the glass with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She crossed the room and dropped onto the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on Rachel with a mixture of curiosity and mild exasperation. “So, what was so urgent that it couldn’t wait till school tomorrow?”

Rachel took the glass, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to gather her scattered thoughts. The words she had prepared seemed to slip away, leaving her momentarily speechless. She took a quick sip of water, hoping it would help her regain her focus. Finally, she spoke, her voice steadying with determination.

“Um,” she began, pausing for a second as she marshaled her thoughts. “Right, so it came to my attention that after I left in an attempt to preserve my dignity from where it was being viciously attacked by our fellow team members, Kurt mentioned taking my Sectionals solo away from me.”

She could feel the words tumbling out faster than she could organize them, but the urgency in her tone was clear. “That simply cannot stand for a multitude of reasons. Firstly, while he has a remarkable voice, it is just not up to the star power quality that I would bring to any solo given to me by Mr. Schuester—once he decides to work on Sectionals, so probably the week before, I assume. Nor does Kurt have the self-control required to practice as much as the lead soloist would need to do to compensate for Mr. Schuester’s poor time management skills.”

Rachel finished her rant with a dramatic flourish, taking a large gulp of water as if to punctuate her point. The coldness of the drink made her wince, but she didn’t let it stop her. Her eyes blazed with determination as she looked at Tina, awaiting her response.

"Rachel! I don’t know how you heard that because that isn’t what happened."

With her hand placed firmly on her hip and her chin defiantley raised, Rachel pressed, "Then what did happen?"

“Kurt was simply talking about what song he was going to sing for this week's assignment and mentioned that he thought it might have solo potential.” 

“He is not taking my solo from me!” Rachel gave a small stomp of her foot. 

While she had come here under false pretences she still vehemently opposed losing her solos. Less because she didn’t want to give up the spotlight though and more because she knew that she had what it would take to lead them to victory and knew that with Mr Schuester's poor time management and the others lack of self discipline regarding practising that that  was what they needed. 

“God Rachel! He’s not taking your solo. Not that you even have a solo yet. It’s ten o’clock at night, can you go?”

“I would like it on the record that I oppose this shameless thievery of my rightfully earned lead status.”

“What record?” Tina sounded incredulous “Just go Rachel.”

Tina stood up from her bed and walked over to the door. With a deep sigh, she opened it and gave Rachel an expectant stare, silently urging her to leave. Rachel complied, placing the glass of water down on Tina’s desk and exiting her room. Although Tina's irritation hadn't been part of Rachel's initial plan, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. She had successfully obtained a sample of Tina's hair from her hairbrush and discovered some Latin books on magic in her room, further strengthening her suspicions about Tina's involvement in the bird attacks. However, what still eluded her was a motive.

Rachel left Tina's house after expressing her gratitude to her mother for allowing her entry at such a late hour. She turned left down the road, heading toward the second graveyard to continue her patrol.

It was going to be a long night.

The following morning, as Rachel made her way to school, she ran into Ms. Holliday and found herself being pulled aside for a status update in the midst of evading another swooping bird. Ms. Holliday's firm grip on her arm not only saved her from the avian menace but also demanded her attention. Rachel turned to face her teacher as she released her arm, reluctantly agreeing to go to her office.

"I was going to go practice in the choir room," Rachel began, gesturing vaguely in its direction. "Since I did not get any practice time last night, I am rather behind on my practice and performance schedules, and that simply cannot stand. If I am to make it to Broadway and become the youngest-ever EGOT winner, I need nothing less than—"

"Rachel!" Ms. Holliday interrupted. "You missed training this morning, and I'm letting that one go because being upset with you is just too stressful this early in the morning. Holly Holliday doesn't do stress. But I do need you to tell me what you've found out regarding the birds so I can report back to the council."

Rachel huffed and stomped her foot in frustration but ultimately complied. "Fine," she muttered, agreeing to share her findings as she walked with Ms. Holliday to her office. 

In her mind, she began readjusting her weekend practice schedule to account for the two days she hadn't practiced. She also wondered what the chances were that the Glee club would be okay that she had nothing prepared? 

Probably very low. 

She would have to spend part of lunch, the part not spent with Quinn, attempting to figure out if any of the songs she had in her back pocket would fit the theme otherwise she would be in some trouble.

Ms Holliday opened the door to her office and gestured for Rachel to enter which she did before going to the chair that Ms Holliday had by her desk and sat down tossing her bag under the desk before looking up at Ms Holliday with an inquisitive look waiting for an explanation as to why Ms Holiday had wanted to speak to her.

“So what do you have for me?” Ms Holliday asked her. 

Rachel decided to dive right into it to get it over rather than allow herself to get upset by the way Ms Holliday had posed that question. Ms Holliday had asked that question as if she just expected Rachel to have the answer and be willing to give it to her without any regard to the fact that Rachel had a life outside of slaying. Which granted Rachel’s life outside of slaying was much smaller than in the past. But still.

"Quinn has a way to undo the spell once we know who cast it," Rachel began, "and I have very strong suspicions, about to be verified, that Tina is behind this. Although her motive for casting the spell remains unknown. It could be due to the bullying that the so-called 'losers' endure in this school. Although I must admit that I've entertained thoughts of revenge against some of the people in this school as well. Perhaps involving a giant slushy machine, although that only seems to work in dreams, doesn't it? Why is it that brilliant plans tend to exist only in dreams? But yes, while I understand feelings of anger toward certain members of this school, I cannot fathom how that could escalate to random birds attacking students."

Ms. Holliday raised an eyebrow. "How do you plan to prove that Tina is behind this?"

Rachel sighed, uncertainty creeping into her voice. "Honestly, I'm not sure. Quinn mentioned a method involving Tina's hair to determine if she's been using magic."

"You're still involving Quinn in this?" Ms. Holliday asked, clearly concerned.

Rachel looked up at her teacher defiantly, meeting her eyes and jutting out her chin. "Yes."

"You need to understand, Rachel, that while I like to play fast and loose with the rules, the regulations the council has in place regarding the complete secrecy of Slayers and Watchers are established for the safety of both Slayers and civilians," Ms. Holliday emphasised, her gaze fixed on Rachel. 

But Rachel's determination remained unyielding.

Ms. Holliday sighed lightly before revealing a surprising twist. "So, now that I've said all that, I'd like you to know that while that may be the view of the council, it's not my view. The Slayer life is a lonely one, and while we don't know each other that well yet, Rachel, I don't want that for you."

Rachel was taken aback by this unexpected shift in perspective. Her surprise was evident on her face, and Ms. Holliday seemed to notice. Her next words carried a sense of encouragement and camaraderie.

"I pride myself on being unpredictable. Keep up, Slayer."

Ms Holliday did a dismissive wave with her arm before picking up some paperwork from her desk and looking down, her next words were directed more to the desk than to Rachel.

“Keep me posted Slayer.” 

Rachel understood that to be the dismissal that was so she stood up and grabbed her back and started walking toward the door before suddenly spinning around and addressing a question to Ms Holliday. 

“When did you find out you were going to be a Watcher?” 

Ms Holliday looked up from her desk suddenly and leveled Rachel with a look for a couple of seconds before responding. “Why are you asking me this?” 

Rachel shrugged and ran her hand through her hair before dropping it back to her side.

“Quinn was asking me how I found out I was going to be a Slayer and I just realised that I do not know that much about you. You talk about Watchers and Slayers like they are inseparable from each other but I barely know you. I see you every morning five days a week and occasionally on the weekend but I barely know you.”

“I always knew I was going to have to be a Watcher,” Ms Holliday placed her paperwork back down on the desk and gave Rachel her full attention “It’s a family thing you know. My parents were Watchers and their parents were Watchers. It's our family job. I was raised a Watcher, as much as I might not have wanted to be one I knew it was my destiny it was the only option I had. ”

“You couldn’t just say no?” 

Ms Holliday gave a half shrug with her shoulder at Rachel’s question. “Could you? No I couldn't, I would have lost everything. I would have thrown away my family's legacy. I was the only kid they had, the only one left to carry on the tradition. As much as I am a free spirit, I didn’t want to lose my parents. ”

Ms Holliday picked up the paperwork and this time Rachel did take the hint and leave. She headed down the hallway and she noticed that Cheerios practice had just finished as some cheerios were entering the hallway. Luckily they seemed to be too tired from practice to do anything other than toss a few minor insults in her direction if they even responded to her presence at all. She caught Quinn’s eye as the girl was leaving the locker room but other than giving her a small smile she kept going, not wanting to risk the fragile peace that they had established. 

Rachel met up with Quinn in the choir room over lunch, she had half expected that Quinn wouldn’t be there but to her surprise not only was Quinn there but she had beaten Rachel to the choir room.

“Did you get your supplies?” She asked Quinn as she walked in trying to hide her surprise at Quinn’s presence. 

“I did and I know you did because Tina was complaining about you showing up at her house unannounced very loudly to Kurt throughout class this morning.” 

Rachel felt a slight blush creep across her face. While she had purposefully drawn on her diva personality in order to get away with her behaviour last night she was still embarrassed by it. She wanted desperately for the Glee club to see her as more than what they currently did but unfortunately as Tina taking her at face value last night proved they still saw her as nothing more than the Glee club diva loser.

Which, while Rachel thought that had been true last year it was steadily becoming less true and she hoped that the Glee club would one day see her as more although she had little belief that they ever would. Rachel reached into her bag and pulled out the plastic bag with Tina’s hair in it and held it out like a trophy toward Quinn.

“Honestly though you sound so judgemental, but as you can see my method has provided results. I had to draw on my years of acting experience in order to ensure that Tina was not suspicious while still successfully carrying out my task.” 

Rachel took a deep breath and it was while she was breathing that Quinn took advantage of her silence for a second and started talking before Rachel could continue. 

“Right, so if you have the hair and I have the other ingredients let's get to it.” 

Quinn took charge of the situation. She walked over to the choir room door, the one Rachel had left ajar when she entered, and smoothly shut it. Their actions needed to remain hidden from prying eyes, especially Mr. Schue, and this small act of closing the door added a layer of secrecy to their task.

Turning back to Rachel, Quinn began explaining the procedure as she walked over to the chairs and retrieved the essential ingredients from her bag. She also grabbed one of the books Ms. Holliday had provided earlier. Rachel followed suit, setting her bag down on a nearby chair but keeping the bag containing Tina's hair securely in her hand.

As Quinn returned to where they would be hidden from outsiders, she gracefully lowered herself to the floor and started arranging the components meticulously. The test tube took center stage, flanked by the mercury and nitric acid. Rachel watched her with admiration, appreciating Quinn's efficiency.

In an attempt to mimic Quinn's grace, Rachel positioned herself on the floor beside her, crossing her legs and placing the bag of Tina's hair alongside the other ingredients. Her landing, however, was far from graceful, causing Quinn to emit a brief, genuine laugh. Rachel found herself momentarily surprised by the warmth in that laughter, an unexpected facet of Quinn she hadn't anticipated. 

“You ready Berry?” Quinn looked at Rachel upon saying that. 

When she met Quinn’s eyes she nodded.

Quinn's steady hands began the process by carefully pouring the nitric acid into the test tube, filling it halfway. Rachel couldn't help but marvel at the precision with which Quinn handled the potentially hazardous substances.

Next, Quinn picked up the bottle of mercury, an item Rachel hadn't even noticed in her bag, and proceeded to add it to the test tube. But before doing so, she reached for the book, marked at a specific page. As Quinn examined the page, it seemed as if she were committing its contents to memory, her intense focus on the text evident.

Once the book was set aside, Quinn introduced the mercury into the test tube. As soon as the silvery liquid made contact with the nitric acid, Quinn initiated the incantation. Rachel watched in awe at the skillful coordination and precision Quinn exhibited throughout the process.

 “His verbis constantes effecti sunt et falsa in.'' 

Rachel was mesmerised at how Quinn spoke the latin words, how elegantly her lips formed the words and Rachel just knew that Steve the vampire wouldn’t insult her pronunciation. It figured that Quinn would be as perfect at speaking latin as she was with everything.

 “Actum revelare si magicae.” Quinn completed the incantation, and her expectant gaze shifted to Rachel. 

With some effort, Rachel tore her attention away from Quinn's lips, shaking off her lingering fascination. 

She placed Tina's hair into the test tube, and the reaction was immediate—a vibrant blue hue infused Tina's hair.

"That means, that means..." Rachel stammered as she attempted to collect her thoughts. "But that makes no sense. While I may pride myself on my above-average intelligence, which admittedly would not be a high bar if we were talking about our peers, but I mean the global human population's average intelligence. I must confess that Tina being the one behind the spell causing our current school predicament makes no sense."

Rachel rose from the ground and began to pace, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Is there any chance that this... spell could be flawed?"

Quinn stood up gracefully, skillfully avoiding knocking over the test tube, and approached Rachel, stopping a couple of feet away.

“It is my understanding that magic is just a more complicated form of science that we just as of yet don’t understand.” Quinn made eye contact with Rachel while speaking. “Science can be wrong so I assume that is the same for magic however,” she paused for a second as if considering her next words, “there was a reason why you suspected her and I am sure that you would not have done so if you didn’t at least somewhat believe that it was possible. All this magic,” Quinn lifted up her hands and did air quotations around the word ‘magic’ “has done is prove that your suspicions were justified.”

Rachel nodded when Quinn finished speaking. That had made sense and Quinn had done a remarkable job of calming her down before she completely freaked out.

“You are right.” 

A smirk flashed across Quinn’s face at Rachel’s words.“Say that again.” 

Rachel huffed and ignored Quinns statement and just carried on like Quinn hadn’t interrupted. “Since you are right it is therefore of utmost importance that a clear path forward is determined. Where do we go from here? We know what spell was used mostly and we know who cast it therefore we should be able to reverse the spell correct?” 

Rachel was aware that she was using ‘we’ referring to her and Quinn quite liberally and she kept expecting Quinn to interrupt with ‘What do you mean we man-hands?’ but it never came. 

“I do know how to reverse the spell but if I could make a suggestion?” Quinn said instead of the retort that Rachel had been expecting. 

She nodded eagerly at Quinn’s question. Any suggestions would be useful. 

“It might be useful to speak to Tina now that we have semi reputable proof that she was the one who cast the spell in order to determine her motivation and whether or not she will just redo the spell if we undo it. It’s of no use for us to put in the effort to reverse the spell if Tina is simply going to cast it again.” 

That was solid thinking on Quinn’s part.

“Smart, we shall go talk to Tina then but first I must ask the spell to reverse this binding spell of Tina's. Do you have the ingredients for it or must they first be acquired?” 

Quinn thought for a second before she responded to Rachels question.“I have some of them but most of them would need to be bought before we could undo the spell.”

“It is the last day before the Thanksgiving long weekend though.” Rachel said and when she only received an enquiring look from Quinn she expanded on her thought process  “If we do not undo the spell now does that mean that we will have to wait until Tuesday?”

“To my knowledge we do not need to be at school in order to undo the spell but that might be something you should check with Ms Holliday.” 

Quinn said and Rachel nodded at her words.

“I should go give her a status update. She was firm about wanting me to keep her updated on how things were progressing.” Rachel hesitated for a second, took a deep breath and then said “You could accompany me if you wish?” 

Quinn shot Rachel a look before she shrugs her shoulders and surprisingly says, “Okay.”

With the test complete, Quinn efficiently gathered the ingredients and the test tube into a small stone container. Rachel, still taken aback by the results, hurried to collect her bag before heading toward the door. Quinn followed suit, and as they stepped into the hallway together, the reactions from their fellow students were swift and undeniable.

Curious gazes turned toward them, and some students even nudged their friends to ensure they didn't miss this unexpected spectacle. The hallway, though less crowded due to the ongoing bird situation, still had its share of students retrieving items from their lockers or attempting to converse while avoiding bird attacks.

Rachel, well aware of the attention they were drawing, observed Quinn beside her. To her surprise, Quinn's expression remained unaffected by the scrutiny, maintaining her signature HBIC countenance. Rachel opted to stay silent and continued toward Ms. Holliday's office, monitoring the reactions and keeping an eye out for any potential slushie ambush.

As they reached Ms. Holliday's office without any disturbances, Rachel knocked on the door, and Ms. Holliday's voice invited them in. Rachel chances a glance at Quinn while opening the door and for a second she could swear that Quinn looks nervous before it vanishes.

Ms Holliday is engroused in what she is doing on her laptop as they walk in but as Rachel shuts the door she glances up. While she had initially appeared pleased to see Rachel, her smile faded when her eyes fell upon Quinn.

“Quinn.”

“Ms Holliday,” Quinn's voice is measured and even, as if, she wasn’t fazed by what was occuring at all. 

Ms Holliday shut her laptop and fixed them with a stare. “How may I help you girls?”

In response to Ms. Holliday's question, Quinn and Rachel exchanged a brief look. Rachel turned back to their Watcher and spoke, her voice intended to dispel the uncomfortable tension that had settled in the room. 

"We have proof that Tina is behind the spell, and we need some ingredients to reverse it. I was hoping that you might be in possession of them."

Ms. Holliday focused her attention on Rachel, her expression now neutral. "What do you need, Rachel?" 

Rachel glanced at Quinn for guidance, and Quinn promptly listed the necessary ingredients.

When she finished Ms Holliday nodded “I have those. I can’t give them to you now though cause I’ll be remiss,” She used air quotes around ‘remiss’ “in my duty of care to let you take them out during school. You can come grab them after school. Or if you wish you can do the spell reversal here save you from having to drag dangerous objects home with you and then have to drag them back,” Rachel nodded and started to turn to leave before Ms Holliday spoke again. This time directly to Quinn. “What spell are you going to use?”

“I’m going to join two spells I read about in the book you gave Rachel. It’ll be complicated due to my lack of magical experience but I doubt the spell itself that I figured out is incorrect.”

 Quinn had designed the spell itself? After having no knowledge of magic three days prior? 

"Quinn, I understand that, for some reason, Slayer here trusts you and has chosen to inform you about these events despite my explicit instructions to the contrary." 

Quinn's reaction was a departure from her usual indifference. She briefly glanced at Rachel before turning back to Ms. Holliday.

"Therefore, I feel like it’s my duty, as much as it pains me to admit, to inform you that this whole supernatural thing needs to be kept with the greatest confidence and secrecy. Do you understand?" Ms. Holliday's tone was serious and unwavering.

Quinn, however, remained undeterred. She responded with an air of indifference, "I'm not going to tell anyone." 

As Ms. Holliday continued speaking to Quinn, Rachel found herself lost in her thoughts, her mind drifting to ideas for their upcoming Sectionals performance. Lost in her creative reverie, she momentarily tuned out the conversation happening in the room.

Rachel's brief escape from reality was interrupted when she glanced at the clock in Ms. Holliday's office. To her surprise, lunchtime had come and gone, and they were already well into the fourth period of the school day. It was apparent that Ms. Holliday had also noticed this, as she interrupted her own dialogue to address their tardiness.

"I'll write you both hall passes; who cares about attendance anyway?" Ms. Holliday remarked, not dwelling on the subject for long. She swiftly returned to her conversation with Quinn, as if their off-topic moment had never occurred.

When Ms Holliday seemed suitably satisfied that Quinn both wasn’t going to tell anyone and that Quinn was able to perform the required spell she signed their hall passes and let them go. 

Exiting Ms. Holliday's office together, Rachel and Quinn made their way to their fourth-period class, arriving late. The familiar pattern of shocked looks and hushed whispers played out around them. Santana, who was also in the class, shot her a venomous glare as Quinn headed to her seat beside Santana after handing their hall passes to the teacher.

Rachel strained to hear Santana's words as she confronted Quinn, "What the hell are you doing with Rupaul?" 

She didn't catch Quinn's response, though, as the teacher promptly instructed the class to settle down and resumed the lesson.

They intercepted Tina just as she was about to enter the choir room for Glee practice. Quinn reached out and firmly grabbed Tina's arm, pulling her into the nearby bathroom. Rachel couldn't help but think that this bathroom had become the backdrop for some very intriguing conversations this week.

Tina's voice registered surprise as she questioned, "Quinn?" She glanced around at Quinn, who was guarding the door after shutting it behind them. Confusion flickered in Tina's eyes as she then noticed Rachel's presence. "Rachel? What is going on?"

Rachel started to explain, "Tina, I have a question of the utmost seriousness to ask you—" but Tina interrupted her before she could finish.

"—For the last time, Rachel, no! I am not taking your solo, and I don't think Kurt is either."

Rachel tried to clarify, "While that is good to know, that is not, in fact, what we wanted to ask you about."

"Huh?" Tina’s head swung between Rachel and Quinn clearly hoping to get an answer as to why they pulled her into the bathroom. 

One which Rachel was more than willing to provide.

 "We know you are behind these birds, and we would like to request that you please undo the spell. We would also like to know exactly what you were thinking when you decided to inflict this on the students of McKinley. While I understand why one might possess a large amount of resentment and anger toward the neanderthals that inhabit this school, I simply cannot comprehend how this was the particular manner that you chose to vent your inner anger—"

Tina's voice emerged suddenly, cutting Rachel off mid-rant while she was still building up steam to say a variety of other comments about anger management. "It was an accident," Tina admitted.

"Accident?" Quinn's perfectly sculpted eyebrow shot up in a questioning manner. 

With one word and an eyebrow raise, Quinn conveyed more than Rachel could sometimes say with entire paragraphs.

Tina went on to explain, "The spell was meant to have just one bird follow Artie and attack him. Just one. But I made a mistake with the spell somehow, and we ended up with this." Tina’s hands were gesturing wildly in the air as she tried to make them understand that it was an accident.

Rachel couldn't help but be intrigued by the unfolding explanation. She asked, "Firstly, why birds, and secondly, how did you even know how to do magic in the first place?"

Tina clarified, "Artie is terrified of birds, absolutely terrified. And my entire family is a family of witches, so I've known about the supernatural my entire life."

"Do your parents know about our school's current circumstances as a result of your magical miscalculation?" Quinn inquired, her tone serious.

Tina's desperation was palpable as she pleaded, "No. You can't tell them. I'm not supposed to do magic by myself yet."

"So you were just going to?" Quinn let the question hang, waiting for Tina's response.

"I'm going to fix it; I just haven't been able to locate all of the ingredients for the spell yet," Tina explained.

Rachel wasted no time. "We have them, so what we are going to do is fix this right now!"

“You have them? Rachel what is going on? How do you even know about this?” Tina paused for a second “ Wait is this why you showed up at my house last night?”

Rachel wasn’t sure how to respond to Tina’s question. Ms Holliday didn’t want her telling people about her being the Slayer and while she was unexpectedly willing to go against that for Quinn she just wasn’t sure if she was willing to go against it for Tina. She decided to do one of the many things that Rachel Berry does best improvise .

“Having recently become aware of the existence of the supernatural I thought that I should investigate the creation of these birds. I did this completely of my own violation and to satisfy my own curiosity and under no sense of obligation and-”

“-Wait, are you the Slayer?” Tina interrupted Rachel.

“What! No” Rachel sounded unbelievable even to herself so she made it worse by continuing, “What is a slayer? I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, frankly I am-”

“Oh she’s not going to believe that Rachel,” Quinn sounded fondly exasperated as she interrupted Rachel.

"Thank you. I do not think I would have been able to stop," Rachel admitted, grateful for Quinn's intervention. She then turned her attention to Tina, curiosity shining in her eyes. "How do you know about the Slayer?"

Tina responded matter-of-factly, "I grew up in a family that does magic, Rachel. Of course, I know about 'The Slayer.' How are you 'The Slayer,' though?"

“Apparently it is my destiny to be ‘The Slayer’. How and Why though I do not understand.” Rachel paused for a second to gather her thoughts before reversing course away from what was surely going to get Ms Holliday yelling at her again. “Since this all was an accident and you have been attempting to gather the ingredients to reverse the spell I presume that you would be willing to assist us in reversing the spell?”

“Tina nodded fervently, her desperation evident. "Yeah."

"Okay, then," Rachel replied with a decisive nod. "We can go to Ms. Holliday's office. We won't be interrupted, plus she has the ingredients we need."

Tina seemed puzzled. "Ms. Holliday? The new English teacher?"

Rachel saw Quinn reach out and give Tina’s shoulder a pat as if welcoming her to the new strange world they all found themselves in.

“She is not just the English teacher, she is also my Watcher,” Rachel said,  “which so far means that she attempts to tell me what to do and teaches me how to slay.” Rachel let a smirk out before continuing “Only one of those successfully.” 

Rachel led the way towards the bathroom door, which she cracked open slightly to check if the hallway was clear of Glee club members. Once she confirmed it was safe, she opened the door fully and left, staying out of sight of the choir room and the menacing birds. She glanced over her shoulder to see if Quinn and Tina were coming and when she confirmed that they were she started walking determinedly to Ms Hollidays office. 

She reached out and gave the door a knock but barely hesitated before walking in remembering that Ms Holliday had told them just before they left that she had a ‘boring faculty staff meeting’ and wouldn’t be in the office when they came by to get the ingredients. She walked in and held the door open for Quinn and Tina and shut it once they entered. 

Once they were inside Tina looked around before turning to Rachel. “What spell are you going to use?” Tina inquired.

Rachel replied, “Quinn figured it out. She was going to join two spells and then use that.” 

Tina shifted her gaze towards Quinn and asked, “Which two spells?” 

“It’s complicated.” Quinn started walking towards Ms Holliday’s desk “I’ll write it down.” 

Tina nodded and followed Quinn to the desk. Quinn put her bag down next to it and pulled out a notepad and pen before straightening up and placing the notebook on the desk and started writing. When she finished she stepped to the side and Tina moved forward so she could see it. Tina read over what Quinn had written before she responded.

“You’re right this would have worked but since I’m the one who cast the spell we can use a similar but simpler spell to reverse it? Provided I’m the one that undo’s it. Is that okay?” Tina looked at Rachel when she finished speaking.Rachel hesitated for a second before responding.

“We have the ingredients for Quinn’s spell. Would they work for yours as well?”

“Yes they would.” Tina said with a short sharp nod.

 “Write your spell down and let Quinn have a look at it.” 

Tina pulled the notepad over to her from where it was still in front of Quinn and scribbled down on it. Before pushing it back toward Quinn again.

“What do you think Quinn?” Rachel asked as Quinn stepped closer to the desk and looked at the notebook for a second with pursed lips.

 “This spell would work if Tina does it. She has magic experience as well which is better than if I were to do it.” 

Rachel nodded. She wished Ms Holliday was there for a second while knowing that this decision was going to come down to her. 

“Okay, okay. Tina you can do it but be careful and get Quinn to help you. We absolutely cannot afford for this spell to go wrong like your last one did.” 

Tina winces at Rachels words but nods. Rachel walked over to Ms Holidays desk draws where she had told them the ingredients where and opened it up. 

“The ingredients are in here. You can get it set up.”

Tina reached into the draw and started pulling various containers out and placing them on the desk. Rachel stepped back from the desk again and observed Tina and Quinn as they set up for the spell. She hoped she had made the right call. Hopefully the worst that could happen if the spell didn’t work was that the spell didn’t work. Ms Holliday had pressed into her multiple times turning her theoretical slayer training though the importance of magic only being conducted if one was one hundred percent confident of the results or the results could be catastrophic. She decided to trust Quinn. It was a new feeling but not completely uncomfortable.

“We’re ready, Berry.” Quinn's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. 

She glanced over to them. Tina was sitting on the ground surrounded by what she assumed to be herbs and was holding two small white stones in her hand. 

“Um, Quinn, you mentioned something about the herbs having to be on fire?”

“That was only with the binding spell we don’t need fire for this one since it’s just a reversal.” 

Rachel looked at Quinn and locked eyes with her ignoring Tina. “You sure this will work Quinn?”

“Yes,” Quinn's voice was even and confident and showed no sign of doubt so Rachel nodded.

“Okay,” Rachel said and with that Tina struck the two stones together repetitively producing sparks while speaking in latin. 

Rachel was officially in a room with two people who speak Latin better than her. 

“Cum his verbis, quae sit fortuna novis hominibus, et restituet te conservis meis adhæsit in pace” 

Tina stopped talking and let out a breath. 

The room was silent as they waited to see what would happen. 

Just as Rachel started walking toward the door to open it to see if the birds were outside they heard shocked exclamations from the students still in the school as the birds apparently  just suddenly vanished into thin air mid swoop or mid squawk. 

Quinn glanced at Rachel with a rare genuine smile and a soft exclamation of, “yes!” 

Rachel shared a smile with Quinn before turning to Tina. “Are you okay?” 

Tina nodded and stood up. She walked over to Ms Holliday’s desk to place down the stones before turning to Rachel and Quinn.

“I really am sorry about this. It was an accident but I probably shouldn’t have done it in the first place.” 

Quinn walked closer to Rachel and stood next to her as she responded to Tina. “Why did you?”

“I was angry. Artie was really mean when he broke up with me. He said some unforgivable things and I just couldn’t cope.” 

Rachel let out a soft scoff. “You have to control your anger and not let it get the best of you,” 

She understood how emotions could affect you but letting it out by casting a spell resulting in multiple injuries from angry birds just wasn’t an appropriate reaction. 

“No offence Rachel, but what do you know about being angry?”

“You think I never get angry. I’m angry. You think all the insults and slushies and pushes into lockers and snide comments don’t get to me?” Rachel looked at Tina while talking and steadfastly refused to look in Quinn’s direction “It gets to me. I read a book called ‘Emotions: You have them and how to understand them’ and in it the writer talks about how most emotions have another emotion under them. A lot of the time behind Anger is Sad. You were sad about Artie and him breaking up with you. I was sad about everything and that led to a very unfortunate angry outburst, granted the outburst was to myself in my room by myself but it still counts,” Rachel steps closer to Tina not touching distance but closer. “You get sad, you get angry, either one and they win. Lock that feeling away, bury it deep inside and use it to fuel you instead.”

 "I'm sorry," Tina said, her voice filled with sincerity.

Rachel quirked an eyebrow, asking, "For what?"

Tina replied, "For not defending you in Glee yesterday."

Rachel considered Tina's words for a moment, then offered a small but genuine smile. 

“It is okay Tina, I am used to it,” She shrugged her shoulders “Let us focus on the positive. We successfully removed the birds and we have a long weekend for Thanksgiving.” 

Tina nodded and Rachel turned around to open the door and in the process came face to face with Quinn for a second before Quinn hurriedly looked away guiltily. 

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” 

Tina's question about Thanksgiving caught Rachel's attention as she opened the door to leave. She didn't glance at Tina or Quinn but kept her gaze forward as she walked down the hallway.

"My dads are on a business trip, so I will be spending my Thanksgiving feasting on takeaway and having a Barbra Streisand marathon," Rachel replied nonchalantly.

Tina probed further, "Oh. Are you okay with that?"

"Of course I am, why would I not be?" Rachel countered, her tone assertive, not betraying any of her hidden emotions.

Tina then turned her attention to Quinn, asking, "What about you, Quinn? What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

Quinn's voice took on a slightly huskier quality as she replied, "I'm still at Santana's, so I'll just do Thanksgiving with her family."

Tina seemed uncertain about how to respond, and Rachel felt similarly lost for words. They continued walking to the car park, avoiding the choir room where Glee practice would be wrapping up. Rachel couldn't help but shudder at the thought of their club mates' reactions to not just her absence but also Tina and Quinn's. When they reached the car park, they split up, exchanging brief goodbyes before going their separate ways. Rachel headed home to work on her homework and do her afternoon practices, with plans to leave later for her patrol duty.

Rachel was patrolling later that night when she came across a group of 3 vampires having some kind of argument. Maybe it was the euphoria of having just successfully undone a spell, or the euphoria of Quinn smiling at her earlier but either way Rachel wasn’t thinking quite clearly when she decided to attempt to fight multiple vampires for the first time since becoming the slayer.

“"Vampires, I hope you're ready to face the music – because it's showtime!" Rachels words were laced with false bravado as the vampires abruptly turned their attention towards her.

She fumbled for her stake in her pocket, mentally reciting Ms. Holliday's instructions: You have to get them in the heart every time, Always pay attention to your surroundings, don’t get too focused on fighting one vampire you fail to notice the vampire behind you, always always get the heart on your first attempt because you will not get a second.  

“Oh a snack!” One of the vampires exclaimed. 

He was a relatively small looking guy for a vampire who was wearing a bright red puffer jacket. Interesting Style choice. He began to  leisurely walk toward Rachel. What was with that? If Rachel wasn’t the slayer she would have run away. 

A second vampire dressed in a more conventional vampire outfit with a long black trench coat let out a laugh. “Save some for the rest of hey Antonio.”

So that was the puffer jacket vampire's name. 

Rather than run away though she prepared herself taking care to position herself in a way that gave herself a strong centre of gravity. Once she had her stake firmly in her hand and as Antonio noticed it a vicious smile crossed his face.

“Don’t worry sweetheart you won’t have time to use that,” Trench coat vampire said. 

The third vampire of the group who was dressed casually in jeans and t-shirt let out a laugh at what Antonio said. Seems like they found Antonio to be a regular comedian despite the fact that they had all been arguing before Rachel announced her presence.

Antonio turned to gloat at his companions, giving Rachel a fleeting opportunity. With lightning speed, she advanced and drove her stake into his heart. His agonized cry filled the night air as he disintegrated into ashes, catching the attention of his fellow vampires. 

Trench Coat vampire yelled, "Antonio!" and charged at Rachel.

Rachel pivoted sideways to keep both vampires in her line of sight, narrowly avoiding Trench Coat vampire's charge. T-shirt vampire, fangs bared, joined the attack and slammed into her with tremendous force, sending her sprawling to the ground. Pain coursed through her body, making it difficult to regain her footing.

T-shirt vampire lunged at her. 

She had no time to move. 

No time. 

She moved her stake to her chest and just held it out and closed her eyes. 

Ash.

She opened her eyes in time to see trench coat vampire running at her. She jumped to her feet as fast as she could and managed to block his attack block for block. After a couple of blocked attacks by Rachel, trench coat vampire backed away. He threw his hands into the air.

"Okay, okay, I don't want to fight you. Let's just call it quits," he stammered, clearly fearful. 

Rachel, still in pain and unsure of her chances in a renewed confrontation, nodded in agreement.

 Trench Coat vampire began to turn and leave but hesitated for a moment. “I heard there was a Slayer in little old Lima. Mistress will be so pleased.” 

With that the vampire tucked his figurative tail between his legs and ran away. Leaving Rachel confused, what had she just stumbled into? 

Mistress?   

Chapter Text

Rachel had spent the Thanksgiving weekend exactly like she had said she would: Takeaway, Barabra Striestand, musical practice and Slayer training. Tuesday morning found her at Ms Holliday’s for Slayer training before school started again after the Thanksgiving weekend.

“I just do not understand how you are not the slightest bit concerned. The vampire clearly recognised me to be a Slayer and then stated that he would be informing someone called ‘Mistress’ of my presence in Lima.” Rachel grunted the words out while sparring with Ms Holliday.

Ms Holliday reached an arm out to block Rachel’s punch while she started speaking. “And I’ll say it yet again Rachel, that we always knew that vampires would eventually find out about your presence.” Ms Holliday swung a punch at Rachel “and that Lima is a Hellmouth so you’ll find all sorts of weird supernatural groups in it.” 

Rachel blocked the punch and the force of it knocked Ms Holliday to the mat. 

She looked up from the ground at Rachel as she finished speaking “There is nothing to be concerned about.” 

Rachel let out a scoff as she looked down at Ms Holliday before extending her arm to help her up. “Remind me again what a Hellmouth is?” 

Once Ms Holliday was up from the mat Rachel walked toward her bag intending to grab her water bottle. Looking half over her shoulder towards Ms Holliday for her response as she walked.

“A Hellmouth is a place in which the various walls between dimensions such as earth and the various hell’s are particularly fragile and weak. This means that it’s easier for portals to link it to various hell dimensions allowing those supernatural beings into our dimension. Earth. In this case Lima, Ohio.” Ms Holliday explained

Rachel reached into her bag and grabbed her water bottle and took a large gulp before responding. “You are confident that this is nothing to be concerned about?” 

Rachel had had the nagging feeling that this was something big since the moment the vampire had run away with his tail between his legs. She was still rather new at this though and unlike Mr Shuester, Ms Holliday did seem like she was good at her job so she decided that she would trust Ms Holliday’s instincts at present since her own instincts didn’t have very much to go on. 

"Rachel, there's no need to panic," Ms Holliday replied calmly. "We've been preparing for scenarios like this. We have allies and resources at our disposal."

Rachel still felt a knot of anxiety in her stomach. "Shouldn't we inform the Watcher's Council or someone about what happened?"

Ms. Holliday thought for a moment. "For now, let's keep this within our circle. We'll gather more information and monitor the situation closely. If this Mistress or any other vampires start causing trouble in Lima, then we'll take further action. But remember, Rachel, you're not alone in this. You have the skills and support you need."

Rachel gave a slow nod at Ms Hollidays words.

Ms Holliday brushed her hands together once before changing the topic.

“Let’s do one more spar Slayer, this time with stakes and then I’ll let you get to school.” 

Rachel nodded as she put her water bottle back in her bag and headed back to the mat. She allowed a confident smile to slip across her face. While her beating Vampires was still sometimes debatable at least she could count on her slayer powers combined with her recent training to be enough to beat Ms Holliday without fail. And in the past Ms Holliday had been a formidable opponent since she had trained under various martial arts regimes in her Watcher training. That tidbit had been thrown out right at the start of her training when Rachel had made the mistake of asking exactly how Ms Holliday was going to teach her to fight. Ms Holliday had shown her. 

Hard.

The halls of McKinley were already buzzing by the time Rachel pushed through the front doors, just minutes before the first bell. Her mind was preoccupied with the morning’s calculus quiz, the Glee Club set list, and the patrol she had barely made it back from before sunrise. She didn’t see it coming - not until the icy, sickly-sweet slush exploded against her face, splattering her in a wave of blue and red syrup.

The cold shocked her system instantly. It stung like needles against her skin, burning her eyes, freezing her breath. She stumbled a step back, gasping, blinking furiously to clear her vision. The sticky liquid clung to her lashes, dripped from her chin, soaked straight through the layers of her clothes and down to her underwear.

The hallway around her burst into low, muffled laughter.

Someone snorted.

Another person chuckled openly.

And when she finally pried her eyes open, still blinking through the mess, she caught sight of Kurt near his locker, failing - just barely - to stifle a grin behind his hand.

Her gaze drifted past him, zeroing in on the culprit.

Karofsky.

He looked smug as ever, his hand still outstretched from the throw. "Have a nice day, Gl-oser," he said with a wide grin, dragging out the insult as if it were clever. He turned and slapped a high five with Azimio, the two of them swaggering down the hallway like they had just won something.

Rachel stood frozen in place. Every inch of her was sticky and humiliated. The chill of the slushy had sunk into her bones, but it was the laughter that burned. She swallowed hard, trying to force down the lump rising in her throat.

Then, without warning, someone was beside her.

Quinn.

Rachel hadn’t even heard her approach, too dazed by the cold and the weight of being completely drenched. She flinched at the sudden presence, startled by the gentle touch of Quinn’s hand against the small of her back.

"Let’s get you to the bathroom, Berry," Quinn said, her voice calm but firm.

Rachel hesitated, glancing at the bathroom they were heading toward—the one connected to the Cheerios locker room. "Quinn, maybe not that one, I - "

"It’ll be fine," Quinn cut her off with a sharp look.

One of the Cheerios loitering by the door straightened as they approached, her lips already parting like she was about to protest. But Quinn didn’t give her the chance.

She shot the girl a glare that could’ve melted steel. The Cheerio faltered immediately, eyes widening slightly before she turned on her heel and disappeared down the hall without another word.

Inside, the fluorescent lights buzzed quietly above them as Rachel made her way to the sink. She leaned forward, gripping the edges tightly, then began rinsing her hair with cold water. The syrupy remnants of the slushy swirled down the drain, leaving her shivering but a little less sticky.

"You should probably change into dry clothes first," Quinn offered, arms crossed as she hovered nearby.

Rachel frowned at her reflection, water dripping from her hair onto her already ruined sweater. "How would you know that?" she snapped without thinking, defensiveness flaring from her humiliation.

There was a beat of silence.

Then Rachel sighed. "Sorry. I just - I do not have any spare clothes today. I forgot to bring them back after the last time this happened."

A flicker of something passed over Quinn’s face. Sympathy, maybe. Understanding. Maybe even guilt.

She nodded slowly, already turning toward the locker room door. "I’ve got some extras in my Cheerios locker. I’ll go grab them."

"Quinn, you do not need to - "

But Quinn was already waving her off. "Just rinse. I’ll be right back."

Rachel watched her go, startled by the kindness. It wasn’t the first time she had been slushied, not by a long shot. But it was the first time someone had done more than laugh, look away, or toss her a half-hearted tissue. She turned back to the sink, letting the water run over her scalp, trying to let it wash away the sting of embarrassment.

A sudden scream ripped through the quiet of the bathroom.

Rachel’s head jerked up.

It was Quinn.

Heart pounding, Rachel dashed toward the locker room door and flung it open.

The sharp scent of blood hit her instantly.

Her eyes widened as they landed on the crumpled form sprawled across the tile. One of the Cheerios lay motionless, her uniform soaked crimson. A jagged, gaping wound cleaved across her chest. Blood pooled beneath her like spilled paint.

Rachel’s stomach twisted violently. She staggered back a step, one hand flying to her mouth.

She didn’t scream.

She couldn’t.

Rachel walked over to Quinn, who was staring blankly at the gruesome scene. "Emily…" Quinn muttered softly, almost involuntarily, while her gaze remained fixed on the lifeless body. 

Rachel reached Quinn, placed one of her still-sticky hands from the slushy attack on Quinn's shoulders, and turned her away from the grisly sight. “She’s just a freshman.” Quinn said softly.

Rachel pulled Quinn towards her and gave her an awkward hug hoping she wasn’t over stepping. 

“Her lungs there….” Quinn trailed off and let out a choked sob.

“Gone. I know. It will be okay Quinn.” 

The door to the Cheerios locker room, leading from Coach Sylvester's office, creaked open. It seemed to be a delayed reaction to Quinn's scream, Rachel thought.

"What are you mouthbreathers - " Coach Sylvesters voice trailed off as she emerged from around the lockers and noticed Emily's lifeless body. 

Rachel let go of Quinn and waited for her to break the hug before addressing the Cheerios coach.

"Coach Sylvester, I think you should call the police," Rachel said firmly. Coach Sylvester nodded face pale and turned to head back to her office, presumably to alert the authorities. But before she reached the door, she turned back to Quinn, waiting until their eyes met.

"Quinn," Coach Sylvester said, her tone unwavering, "Make sure no one else comes in." Quinn straightened up, and Rachel could see the panic in her eyes morph into determination.

“Yes Coach.” 

Coach Sylvester didn’t respond and instead turned back to her office and entering. 

Quinn walked toward the main entrance to the locker room, presumably to ensure that no one came in without saying a word to Rachel. Rachel stayed where she was though near the bathroom entrance and chanced a glance at Emily only to feel her stomach turn again. 

She forced herself to look closer although all her instincts screamed at her to look away Rachel, look away. 

The cuts on Emily were insanely precise. 

Rachel wasn’t sure how any human could cut another human that precisely while killing them. 

Her stomach turned and this time the only way she could ensure she didn’t throw up was by turning away. 

While turning her eyes fell on Quinn again. Quinn was standing at the entrance, seeming for all the world like she wasn’t affected anymore but the slight trembling of her hands gave her away before she lifted them up and crossed her arms.

"Quinn, are you okay?" Rachel asked softly, concern evident in her voice.

Quinn's response was brief and to the point. "I'm fine." She paused for a moment, then added, almost reluctantly, "How about you, Berry?"

"I am feeling rather queasy," Rachel admitted, the words flowing out of her as if her body were releasing pent-up tension. Once she started talking, she found it hard to stop. "I mean, technically, I have seen dead bodies before because what are vampires if not dead bodies that are suddenly and inexplicably not dead anymore? But I have never seen a truly dead body, especially one as grotesque as - "

"Berry, shut up!" Rachel abruptly cut off her nervous ramble, realizing how insensitive her words might have sounded to someone who knew Emily.

"I sincerely apologize, Quinn," Rachel quickly added. "That was unbecoming of me."

"It's fine," Quinn replied calmly. "You tend to ramble when you're nervous." 

Rachel couldn't help but wonder how Quinn knew that about her.

Rachel attempted to gather her thoughts, turning to look at Quinn while avoiding the sight of Emily's body. Before she could speak, the sound of sirens approached, and Coach Sylvester emerged from her office, addressing Quinn.

"That's the ambulance and the police. Quinn, you can let them in," Coach Sylvester said, her usual insults conspicuously absent since she laid eyes on the body.

"Yes, Coach," Quinn nodded determinedly in response.

"Berry," Coach Sylvester redirected her attention to Rachel, who had been looking at Quinn. "You should probably get out of those clothes." Rachel suddenly remembered the slushy attack, realizing she had completely forgotten about it, despite the stickiness of her clothes.

“Your clothes...” Quinn said softly as if she too had forgotten why they had entered the locker room in the first place. “I’ll go get them from my locker.” She seemed unsure for a second but shook off Rachel's statements that she was okay and could just stay in her current clothes.

Quinn walked to her locker which was luckily away from the body and when she returned she gave Rachel her spare clothes. When Rachel glanced at them she noticed it was just shorts and a plain red shirt not Quinn’s usual at all. 

“I keep them in case I get slushied. I know I’ve only ever gotten slushied once but it’s a memory that stays with you.” 

Rachel nodded and kept her comments on the matter to herself. She walked back into the bathroom to clean up and change.

When she came back into the locker room afterwards she was stopped by a police officer before Coach Sylvester informed him that she was ‘one of the two girls who found her’ and then he allowed her to come in. 

Rachel walked over to where Quinn was standing to the side giving her statement to a different police officer. When she looked at Quinn she could see that she was crying while talking about how Emily was a Freshman who was new to the squad and yet was loved by everyone. 

She reached out her hand to comfort Quinn and was surprised when rather than let her hand fall on Quinns shoulder, Quinn without looking, grabbed Rachel’s hand and held it. 

Rachel couldn’t understand the way Quinn had been acting recently. 

It was all hot and cold. 

One minute she slushies Rachel and then the next she helps Rachel after a slushy. 

One minute she saves Rachel’s life and the next she won’t even talk to her. 

One moment she’s angry at Rachel for leaving the Celibacy Club and then the next she’s non stop helping Rachel when she doesn’t even need to. 

Quinn was being confusing and more so than usual. She had known from the moment that she had first laid eyes on Quinn that Quinn was an enigma that she wanted to get to know but all this back and forth was doing her head in on top of all the added slaying stress.

Rachel was lost in thought until she was jolted back to reality by the sound of a police officer saying her name.

"I am sorry, what did you say?" she asked, a bit disoriented.

The officer clarified, "I just wanted to confirm that you agreed with what Miss Fabray was saying."

Rachel furrowed her brow, still not fully focused. "What was that?"

"That you didn't hear anything when you entered the bathroom," the officer gestured toward the bathroom, "and that your first knowledge of the body was when you walked in here. Is that correct?" 

Rachel nodded in agreement.

"Okay, in that case, that's all I need from you girls now, but we may get in contact with the school later if we need to speak to either of you again," the police officer said before walking away to talk to another officer who had initially prevented Rachel from reentering the scene.

Rachel glanced down at Quinn, who was still holding onto her hand. Concern etched across her face, she asked, "Are you okay, Quinn? Are you good to go to class, or would you like me to take you home?"

Quinn released Rachel's hand and wiped away her tears. Once she had done so, she straightened up and looked at Rachel. If Rachel hadn't seen her crying earlier and hadn't witnessed the tear-wiping, she wouldn't have known that Quinn had cried at all.

"We can go to class," Quinn replied, her voice steady.

"Are you sure?" Rachel inquired gently, not wanting to push too hard but feeling shaken herself, even though she hadn't known the girl who had died. Quinn had known her.

"Yes," Quinn responded, her jaw clenching as if she were physically restraining herself from saying more. Rachel nodded and headed toward the door, avoiding glancing at the body again as they passed the crime scene tape. As they walked by, she caught a snippet of a conversation between the police officers.

“-it’s so clean. Like when is a crime scene ever this clean?” The officer said.

“You’re new to Lima aren’t you?” 

She didn’t hear the rest of the conversation because by that point Quinn had bypassed her and was opening the cheerios locker room door and together they walked into the mostly empty hallway because the first period had already started. 

As they exited the locker room, Quinn glanced at Rachel and pointed down the hallway. "My class is down there."

Rachel nodded, attempting to locate the vague direction of her first-period class. "Right, and mine is..." She trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

"I'll see you in Glee, Berry," Quinn said, not even looking at Rachel as she started walking toward her class.

Instead of heading to class herself, Rachel decided to take a detour after parting ways with Quinn. She retraced her steps, walking back toward the Cheerios locker room. Fortunately, Ms. Holliday's office was in the same hallway, which, under normal circumstances, might have caused complications. But in this instance, it proved convenient as Rachel didn't have to linger in the hallway for too long before reaching her destination.

Rachel knocked on Ms. Holliday's door, realizing only then that Ms. Holliday might be teaching a class at the moment and might not be in her office. A soft "come in" allowed her to push that thought aside. She entered the office and closed the door behind her, catching Ms. Holliday's attention.

Ms. Holliday's eyes widened when she saw Rachel. "Rachel, hey, I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

Taking a seat in the chair near Ms. Holliday's desk, Rachel replied, " I am quite all right, thank you for asking. I just wanted to speak with you about what occurred. The circumstances and the manner of death lead me to believe that this is a result of the supernatural."

Ms. Holliday leaned forward in her chair, resting her head on her hand. "What are the circumstances?"

Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her thoughts and observations swirling in her mind. Her voice carried a mix of concern and unease as she began to explain her suspicions to Ms. Holliday.

"Um, honestly, there are a couple of things. Firstly, the fact that Quinn and I were right next door in the bathroom, and we heard nothing," Rachel began, her gaze distant for a moment as she recalled the eerie silence that had enveloped the crime scene. She felt a pang of guilt at her detached phrasing but continued, "And while that might not mean much, there's also the fact that when I looked at the body," she paused, her voice softening slightly as she corrected herself, "when I looked at Emily, I couldn't help but notice how precise and accurate the cuts were. I mean, who manages to kill someone that precisely? Who stays that still while being killed so that the cuts are perfect?"

Rachel's brows furrowed, her concern deepening as she recounted the disturbing details. "Then there's the fact that one of the police officers commented about how 'clean' the crime scene was, and um, if it were a human that did this, I do not think any of the neanderthals that inhabit this school would possess that ability." She paused, her words trailing off for a moment as she pondered the implications.

"But, finally, the main reason for my suspicions is that whoever or whatever killed her took her lungs." Rachel concluded, her voice catching for a moment as she recapped her list of suspicions.

 She took a deep breath, her energy waning as she finished listing her concerns.

Ms. Holliday remained quiet for a while, processing Rachel's unsettling observations. The weight of the situation hung in the air, and the tension in the room was palpable. Finally, Ms. Holliday broke the silence, her voice measured as she responded.

“Her lungs?”

“Yes.”

“That could be a demon or it could just be a very distirbued individual. You’re right though there is definitely enough there to be suspicious. I’ll look through some books and see if I can find anything but with the very little we have to go on I’m not confident I’ll be able to find anything else.” Ms Holliday gave Rachel a sympathetic smile “Don’t worry Rachel I’ll try and find something. In the meantime you are late for,” Ms Holliday glanced at the clock on her office wall “Second period.”

“Um, can I stay, can I stay and help?”

“We have very little to go on Rachel and it most likely is just a distrurbed individual.”

“You said this morning that we are on a hellmouth prone to all sorts of demons therefore it would be foolhardy to not presume that this is supernatural in nature.”

"That's why I'm going to take a look, Rachel. There's no need for you to trouble yourself with this if it turns out not to be of supernatural nature," Ms. Holliday assured, her voice steady and reassuring.

Rachel took a moment to collect her thoughts, her emotions still raw and swirling within her. "I saw her," she began, her voice quivering with a mix of anger and sorrow. "I cannot stop seeing her. I need to do something, or I will go insane. Well, more insane than I already am, apparently." She paused, her gaze intense as she continued, "something or someone killed her, cut her open, and removed her lungs. She deserved better. I did not know her, but I would not wish that on anyone, regardless of how they've treated me in the past. The fact that I did not know her also speaks to her deserving better. Trust me, I know every Cheerio, normally with their post-slushy faces seared into my mind, and I did not know her until Quinn said her name."

Ms. Holliday regarded Rachel with a meaningful look, her understanding evident in her expression. She reached behind her and pulled out a rather new-looking book, offering it to Rachel. Rachel stood up and walked closer to Ms. Holliday to accept the book. Once she was settled back in the chair, Ms. Holliday continued.

"That's an anthology of demons. It's rather recent and in English. It doesn't contain all of them, but it includes some. Look through it and see if anything stands out." She paused, allowing Rachel to absorb her instructions, and Rachel nodded in acknowledgment. "You can stay here for a while until you feel up to going back to class or until I have to go teach."

"Thank you," Rachel said sincerely, feeling a sense of relief Ms Holliday was taking her concerns seriously. 

Ms. Holliday didn't reply but returned to her work, giving Rachel the space to delve into the book's contents.

When Rachel walked into third period AP History hall pass in hand it was clear that word had spread about what had occurred that morning. The room went silent as everyone turned to look at her when she entered. While Rachel loved being the centre of attention this was different so she did her best to ignore the class's reaction to her and instead just silently walked toward her desk next to Tina. 

When she sat down Tina leaned over to her and whispered, “are you okay?” 

Rachel nodded but didn’t say anything and Tina took the hint and looked back to the front of the class where Mr Cooper was attempting to teach about the Ottoman Empire. Rachel leaned down to grab her notebook and for the rest of the class escaped from the thoughts in her mind by taking incredibly detailed notes even for her as Mr Cooper droned on. When the bell rang signaling the start of lunch she packed up her stuff deciding between braving the cafeteria or just going straight to the choir room for some practice when Tina spoke again. 

“Your notes were so detailed. I might have to borrow them from you to study.” Tina nudged Rachels shoulder with a laugh as she spoke.  

“I can copy them for you and give you a copy?” Rachel wasn’t quite sure what was going on but she decided to go on instinct. And instinct was saying offer Tina a copy so that’s what she did.

“That sounds great!” Tina locked her arm around Rachel’s. It took Rachel by surprise or she wouldn’t have allowed it to happen. “Come with me to the cafeteria.” 

“Um, why?”

“You look like you need to be distracted and I don’t want to go in there by myself and have to face Artie.”

“I was going to go to the choir room.” She gestured vaguely with her unattached to Tina arm  before allowing it to fall back to her side.

“That’s where you always spend lunch. Just come and sit with me. We don’t have to sit with the Glee club.”

“The Glee Club normally sits together?” 

Rachel had never heard of that. Nor had she ever been asked to join them over lunch. Rachel unlinked her arm from Tina’s and turned to face her and saw an uneasy look flash across Tina’s face.

“Not always but sometimes. Most of the time not though.” 

Rachel mentally went through her options: she could shrug off Tina’s seeming offer of friendship like she had shrugged off Tina's arm and go to the choir room or she could go to the cafeteria and see if Tina’s seeming offer was legitimate. 

What did it say about her that her first offer of some sort of friendship came from a girl that had cast a spell against the whole school a week ago? 

What did it say about her that she was going to accept it?

“Okay.” Rachel said and Tina gave her a blinding smile that was at odds with her usual outfit choices and led them out of the classroom towards the cafeteria. 

They managed to make it into the cafferia mostly unnoticed and went to grab their food before they went and sat down at a table close to the door and away from most of the crowd of hungry students. 

“Hey.” Quinn slid into a chair at the table with Tina and Rachel in her Cheerio uniform. They went from unnoticed to noticed with just that one word from Quinn. Quinn paid no heed to the school's reaction or to the presence of Tina at the table and instead turned to Rachel and spoke “So what did Ms Holliday say?”

Rachel, taken aback by Quinn's directness and the sudden spotlight on their table, blinked in surprise. "Huh?" she stammered, momentarily caught off guard.

"Oh, come on, Berry," Quinn pressed on, her tone laced with a touch of exasperation. "We both know you didn't go to second period and instead went to Ms. Holliday, so just tell me - what did she say?"

Rachel hesitated for a moment, her thoughts racing, before deciding to share her conclusions. "She said it could be a demon, but it could also just be a psychotic human," she began, her voice steady. A pause hung in the air before she continued, her tone resolute. "But, honestly, I am not buying that. While, yes, I understand that humanity possesses the innate ability to do harm, I just cannot believe that this attack was the work of a mere human."

As Rachel spoke, her words carried a mixture of frustration and conviction. She continued, "Lima is a Hellmouth, and come to think of it, that might finally explain why it is filled with so many losers and is such a dead-end town. Regardless, supernatural activity is at its peak here, and I overheard the police officers talking about how clean of a crime scene it is. We all know that nobody in this place could do that. Therefore, it stands to reason that, yes, this is a demon. Although, what demon..." Rachel trailed off, lost in thought.

Quinn, undisturbed by the grim topic, started speaking as soon as Rachel had finished, her expression serious as she offered her perspective.

“Demons are pure evil,” she said, folding her arms against her chest. “And anyone or anything that could do that to Emily has to be - ”

A thunderous sound cracked across the cafeteria as someone slammed both hands onto the table in front of Quinn.

THUD.

The table shuddered under the force.

A junior football player towered above them, his jaw tight, his eyes blazing with accusation. Quinn’s shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t move, her gaze slowly lifting to meet his.

“You killed her,” the boy growled, his voice hot and shaking with rage.

Quinn arched an eyebrow, her tone unnervingly level when she replied, “Pardon?”

“You killed her,” he repeated, louder this time, jabbing a finger toward Quinn’s face. His other hand remained clenched around the edge of the table, white-knuckled and trembling with fury. “I saw her this morning. She was fine. And then she goes to the locker room and the next thing I hear, you and Glee-och over here are saying she’s dead. Only wait,” he spat the words, eyes narrowing, “there are no witnesses.”

Rachel blinked. She knew him. His voice and stature were familiar. She’d had a few slushies thrown at her by this one. Anthony? Aaron? Something with an A.

“Alex,” Quinn said, coolly interrupting him mid-rant.

Ah, yes. Alex. That was it.

He responded with another slam of his hand against the table.

THUD.

“NO,” he shouted, leaning closer, the vein in his neck pulsing visibly. “You don’t get to talk.”

Outwardly, Quinn looked calm. Steady. Unbothered. But Rachel noticed the small things - the way her fingers were clenching around her fork, tendons tight and knuckles pale against the metal.

“I want you to pay,” Alex hissed.

That was it. 

Rachel pushed her chair back and stood, slow and deliberate. The scrape of the legs against the floor drew the boy’s attention. He turned to face her, as if finally realizing she was more than just a side character in his accusation.

“You need to stop, Alex,” Rachel said, her voice low but firm.

He sneered. “Yeah? Or what?”

She walked toward him, step by step, gathering every scrap of confidence she had left. Inside, her pulse thudded loud and anxious, but she held her chin high.

“I will make you,” she said, drawing herself up to her full height. “And I can assure you, Alexander, that is not something you would wish to experience. Walk away.”

They locked eyes. Rachel’s stare was unwavering. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as his grip on the table loosened. His lips curled in a scoff.

“I’m not scared of you,” he muttered, but his voice was quieter now, uncertain. “And I’m not going to let this … this bitch - ”

He spun back toward Quinn, lifting his hand again, waving it close to her face. Quinn flinched. It was quick, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

Rachel moved. Fast. Her fist slammed into his chest, right over the sternum.

The hit wasn’t elegant, but it was effective. Alex stumbled back a step, caught off guard, his breath hitching in a strangled cough. His hand flew to his chest, eyes wide with shock and something else. Fear.

“I’ll say it again,” Rachel said, voice steady and clear. “Walk away and leave us alone.”

He stared at her for another beat, coughing again, hand rubbing the spot she’d hit. Then, finally, he nodded - barely - and turned, muttering under his breath as he backed off toward the far end of the cafeteria.

Rachel stood there until he disappeared into the crowd.

Then she turned around, walked back to the table, and dropped back into her seat with a long exhale.

She sat still for a moment. Then she inhaled slowly, exhaled again. Twice more. Letting the adrenaline bleed out of her system.

When she looked up, she found both Quinn and Tina staring at her in silence. Rachel blinked.

“What?” she asked, a little too sharp, voice frayed by exhaustion. She winced. It had been a long day and it was still only lunchtime.

Quinn hesitated before answering. “Thank you. For doing that.”

Rachel bit her bottom lip, unsure how to respond. The praise caught her off guard. She dropped her gaze to the tabletop.

“It’s…” she started, then cleared her throat. “It’s quite alright, Quinn.”

She paused, gathering herself, then looked up again with a little more strength in her voice.

“The way he was speaking to you, it was rude and simply unacceptable. He thinks just because he’s some big, blustering jock, or whatever boys fancy themselves to be these days, that he can intimidate anyone he wants. That he can just smack around those he doesn’t like without caution or consequence. And that,” she said firmly, “is despicable.”

Quinn opened her mouth, looking like she might argue, but Rachel pushed forward, her voice gaining conviction with every word.

“I was not going to let him get away with that. Even if our classmates, unsurprisingly, looked the other way.”

She turned toward Quinn and gave her a bright, dazzling smile. “Now, before that rather rude interruption, we were talking about the unfortunate situation that we stumbled into this morning,” Rachel said, smoothing her hair as if to press the moment back into order. “You were saying, Quinn?”

“I was just thinking that based on the circumstances it has to be a demon and therefore there must be something we can do?” 

Rachel shrugged. “Honestly I am not sure what we can really do. Trust me, I want to solve this. I am outraged, appalled and frankly disgusted, however, Ms Holliday made it clear that unless something else occurs there is not much we can do.” Rachel let out a sigh.  “I suppose I can get you some of Ms Holliday’s books that are in Latin?” She looked at Quinn who gave her a nod, “and I can keep going through the book that she gave me but unless we find out more there is not a lot we can do. We don’t have a lot to go off.”

“Then we find more to go off.” Quinn’s tone of voice didn’t leave any room for argument.

“Anything we find is going to have to be out of those books unless whoever or whatever it is strikes again.” 

Quinn didn’t seem deterred by what she said and instead just nodded and smiled at her.

Tina spoke up, “What about me?” Rachel turned her head in Tina’s direction “I want to help. Give me one of those books.” 

Rachel harbored some reservations about letting Tina assist, a fleeting image of a swooping bird flashing through her mind. She hesitated for a moment before responding, "Um..."

Tina sensed Rachel's hesitation and quickly added, "Look, I know that in the whole 'you being the Slayer' thing, we didn't get off on the right foot since I cast that spell, and you had to hunt me down to stop me. But I assure you, I have no negative intentions. I just want to help."

Tina fell silent, her gaze fixed on Rachel, waiting for her response.  When one didn’t come fast enough Tina continued.

“Look Rachel you know me and maybe we aren’t friends but you know me. You have to know that last week was out of character for me. Let me help please?” 

Tina was right Rachel did know Tina. They had been going to school together since they both started school and while they did not have many interactions being at the same place as someone that many days and weeks and years means that you start to get a feel for who a person is regardless of their personal treatment of you. 

And Tina’s treatment of Rachel had been indifferent rather than the outward cruelty of much of their peers and she had attempted to undo the spell the minute she realised it had turned out in an unintended manner.

"Latin or English?" Rachel finally relented, her voice holding a note of acceptance.

"English," Tina replied with a hint of self-deprecating humor. "I can speak Latin when it comes to doing spells, but other than that, I'm about as good with Latin as Mr. Schue is with Spanish." 

An unexpected chuckle escaped her lips, and she heard a similar one from Quinn. She exchanged a brief smile with Quinn before she rose from her seat at the table.

"I will go grab some books from Ms. Holliday before fourth period, and I will pass them to you two in Glee." 

Rachel walked into Glee club that afternoon bracing herself for the club's reaction to not being there on Friday however it seemed like that was behind them now as all the club cared about when they arrived were the events that had occurred that morning and over lunch. She had made a detour to her locker to grab the books for Tina and Quinn so she wasn’t the first one to arrive so when she walked into Glee most of the focus was on Quinn who was sitting in her usual chair at the back. They were pestering her with questions about what she had seen and what had happened.

“Enough leave Tubbers alone.” Rachel was thankful for a second at Quinn getting a breather before Santana continued, “Man Hands just walked in, see if you can annoy her to death which would be a favour to us all.” 

All the manic attention switched from Quinn to Rachel in a second. 

Kurt opened his mouth to start talking but luckily at that exact moment Mr Shuester walked in. 

Rachel had two thoughts, firstly for the first time she was thankful for Mr Shuester for saving her unintentional or not and the second being how had she managed to be almost as late as Mr Shuester? She glanced at the clock. No, Mr Shuester was on time for the first time ever. 

What series of events had caused that?

“Hey guys,” Mr Shuester said while he walked in before looking around the room smiling and walking to the whiteboard and writing ‘sectionals’ “normally I would assign a topic to help you guys deal with what occurred this morning but sectionals is this Saturday so it’s time to knuckle down and get ready.” 

Now wasn’t the time. The time was a couple of weeks ago but no one ever listened to her did they?

“However, if at any time one of you needs to talk or sing about what happened the floor is yours.” He gestured uselessly at the space next to him and waited for the club's acknowledgment. Once he received mostly grunts and okay’s he walked over to the whiteboard and continued “So for sectionals I thought it would be a great idea to draw on those who might not normally get a solo to bring their strengths to-” 

Rachel started to stand up and thought better of it and instead just started to speak instead. “Mr Shuester I must ask if you have completely thought-”

“Rachel! Be quiet. You have to learn to be a team player.”

“Mr Shuester-”

“Rachel no!” 

Rachel huffed but this time she listened and crossed her arms and allowed him to continue talking. 

“As I was saying. I would like to focus on those who may not normally have lead positions during our competitions.” Did Mr Shuester realise that included her? “So I have decided that the solo will go to Kurt, the duet will be Santana and Finn and then we’ll do a group number. How does that sound?” 

He was really throwing out who would be singing before figuring out what would be sung? What if the chosen song doesn’t fit the chosen singer? Rachel sighed like Mr Shuester had any idea about vocal ranges and who best fit them. 

“Okay so I want you guys to spend the rest of this practise figuring out what songs you think we should sing and then next practise we’ll start practising.” The glee club broke into excited chatter amongst themselves and Rachel started going through a mental list of songs that she knew fit Kurt’s range and would lend themselves well to the show choir scene.

She saw Quinn stand up from where she had been sitting at the back and assumed she was heading over to speak to Santana but instead was surprised that she walked over to Rachel and sat down next to her instead. She saw Finn’s head spin around from where he had been talking with Kurt to look at them. The expression on his face was like that of someone who smelled sour milk before he turned back to his conversation with Kurt. 

“Hey.” Quinn said once she had positioned herself comfortably on the seat.

“What are you doing?” Rachel said, turning to look at Quinn.

“What does it look like? Mr Shuester told us to talk about song choices. I assumed you were the best one to come to, are you telling me I am wrong?”

“No I just, nevermind. What were you thinking?” 

Quinn took a second to respond as she seemingly considered what to say. When she did speak it was hesitant and unsure. “It would be nice to have a theme and have all the songs fit into that?”

"That is a remarkable idea, Quinn," Rachel exclaimed, her enthusiasm evident. She couldn't help but feel invigorated by Quinn's suggestion. "I have often also thought that, rather than having three separate songs, having songs that intertwine and tell a story would be a way to set ourselves apart from the crowd. Vocal Adrenaline at Regionals last year did one song, 'Bohemian Rhapsody,' in such a manner that it covered all the required fields. It was a remarkable performance, and while I do believe that we have the talent to surpass Vocal Adrenaline should we face them again, we simply are not putting up the caliber of performances that we should be to face them and win. So, yes, your idea is a sound one, as it is one that I have also had many times, but it would be foolish to expect Mr. Schuester to listen to me."

She paused, allowing her words to hang in the air for a moment. Then, with a thoughtful expression, she continued, "However, if you were to suggest it, he might actually listen." 

Rachel knew that Quinn's influence could be more persuasive in these matters, and she looked at her hopefully, waiting for a response.

Quinn shook her head “It’s too late now. He’s not going to take something like this onboard right now.” At Rachel's disappointed look she added,  “maybe for Regionals though.”

Rachel wanted to push her into taking the idea to Mr Shuester because she knew if Quinn bought it to him he might at least consider it rather than just brush it off straight away. But she didn’t feel comfortable enough with Quinn to try to push her into doing it after she had already declined so instead she just nodded and continued on.

“So for the solo I was thinking that it should be something that fits into Kurt’s vocal range but also helps us stand out. Preferably something new. I know Mr Shuester likes to pull on the nostalgia vote but that’s not going to work everytime.” 

Quinn nodded and they continued on like that until Mr Shuester clapped his hands.

“Okay guys,” he picked up a notepad from the piano and then dropped it back down “if you have any good ideas come and write them down here and I’ll look over them otherwise I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”  

As everyone started packing up Tina stood up from where she had been sitting with Kurt and Mercedees to walk over to them and sat down in the chair next to Quinn.

“Did you get the books Rachel?”

“I did,” Rachel said, nodding. “I procured them from Ms Holliday and I got a rather impressive lecture about involving you in this but at the end of it she did give me some more books.” Rachel reached under her chair to pull out her bag before removing the books and passing them to their relevant persons. “And she also reminded me about the usefulness of the internet. Though I must say that regarding the supernatural the internet has proven to be quite useless in my case.” 

“Did you get one about me?” 

Rachel glanced down at her hands and then at Quinn’s. She had just given her the book hadn’t she? She confirmed that yes she hadn’t just imagined it. She admitted that she was prone to the realistic daydream but she had given Quinn her book. Although Quinns words didn’t really make sense in the context of the books either.

“Huh?”

“A lecture?” Quinn replied.

Oh that did make more sense.

“No, Ms Holliday has accepted that you are involved now. Though how and why you are involved still confuses me.” 

Rachel looked at Quinn hoping for a response but instead all she got was a shrug as Quinn stood up to leave. Quinn gave them a wave and walked over to where Santana was waiting for Quinn by the door.

“What did Rupaul give-” 

Rachel turned to speak to Tina as Santana’s and Quinn’s conversation left the choir room.  

“Are you sure you wish to get involved in this whole,” Rachel hesitated for a second “mess.” She vaguely gesticulated with her hands and looked at Tina expecting that Tina would be reconsidering her choice.

“I’m sure Rachel.” 

Rachel nodded. She wasn’t sure how serious Tina was or how good of an idea it was to let her get involved. Ms Holliday while accepting of Quinn now was less of Tina based on her previous unscrupulous behaviour. Rachel didn’t make decisions purely on what authority figures told her so she decided to just go with it for now and reevaluate later. Plus it would be nice to have a friend. 

Really nice to have a friend. 

“Okay,” she smiled at Tina before she stood up, grabbing her bag and preparing to leave.

 First though she walked over to the notebook Mr Shue had placed on the piano and wrote down her suggestions. While she knew Mr Shue would never accept her suggestions she at least wanted to be able to say that she had suggested something. 

“Goodbye Tina I will see you tomorrow,” she shot Tina a smile before turning out walking out of Glee and heard Tina return her goodbye. 

Rachel was in her room preparing to head out on patrol when there was a knock on her front door. Since her fathers weren’t home she ran down the stairs, taking care not to fall, to open the door. She looked through the peephole first, she didn’t want to be hit in the face with an egg again. That had happened before and the person had run away screeming homophobic slurs. 

So now she looked through the peephole first. 

Quinn. 

What was Quinn doing here? 

She opened up the door reasonably confident that she wasn’t going to be attacked by anything although Quinn's presence on her doorstep was a mystery.

“Quinn?” 

"I read through those books you gave me-" Quinn's words hung in the air, pregnant with urgency.

Rachel, unable to contain her curiosity, interrupted her mid-sentence, "Already?"

“Yes. There are three demons so far that it could be," Quinn replied, her eyes focused and intense.

“I was about to go on patrol Quinn.” Rachel said slowly. 

“Patrol?” Quinn looked genuinely puzzled. 

Rachel made a stabbing gesture at Quinn but Quinn still looked confused.

"In order for me to be proficient in my task of killing vampires, I need to go out at night and find vampires in order to kill them."

Quinn processed this information for a moment before a subtle understanding dawned on her. "Oh," she paused briefly, "I'll come with you."

"What?" Rachel, usually quick with words, found herself caught off guard. 

Quinn's unexpected presence and the determination in her voice, while characteristic of the head cheerleader, felt uncharacteristic when leveled at her, which  left Rachel feeling disoriented.

“Yeah, Berry, show off your slayer skills,” Quinn added with a smirk that quickly faded back into her usual neutral expression.

Rachel hesitated, concern furrowing her brow. "It is dangerous. They try to kill you."

"I figured since they are vampires," Quinn retorted.

Rachel, unsure how to dissuade Quinn, released a heavy sigh and opened the front door wide, silently inviting Quinn to step inside.

“I was still in the process of getting ready,” she paused, thinking, “I should probably give you a stake.” 

Quinn walked into her house and glanced around curiously. “Are your Dads home?” Quinn asked, eyes still scanning Rachel’s entry.

“They're on a business trip. My room is upstairs” She gestured in the direction of the stairs and then started walking. 

She glanced behind her to see if Quinn was following and once she confirmed that she was she walked toward her room without looking back or hesitating.

“So what was it you were saying about a Stake?”

“It is what you use to kill a vampire,” Rachel reached the door to her room and opened it and waited for Quinn to enter before continuing. “Although honestly there are four main ways to kill a vampire. A stake is just the easiest.”  

She shut the door behind Quinn and then observed Quinn’s face as she looked around Rachel's room. At the yellow walls and the broadway memorabilia and then her bed covered in everything she had pulled out in preparation for her patrol. Stakes, crosses and holy water. 

“Interesting room Berry.” 

Rachel walked over to her bed and picked up one of the stakes that was lying on it and turned around to pass it to Quinn. Before she did though she mimicked a stabbing gesture again.

“You just sort of ,” she gestured again, “stab them in the heart and then they explode into ash.” 

“Oh?”

“It has to be the heart though or they get angry and they very much do not explode.” Rachel hesitated “Just let me kill them. That can be your backup if something goes wrong. Last line of defense and all that.” 

"What are the other ways to kill a vampire? You said there were four, right?" Quinn inquired, her curiosity cutting through the air as Rachel gathered her supplies.

Rachel, methodically preparing for the night's hunt, responded while organizing stakes and sharp wooden objects. "There’s stakes or any sharp wooden object that you just stab them in the heart with, or you can chop their head off."

As Rachel placed the stakes in her back pockets, one remained in her hand. "Which I have not done yet, but it sounds incredibly gross, so I am rather quite thankful that I have not yet needed to do so. Or there’s Holy Water, but that only works if they ingest it; otherwise, it just burns them."

The mention of Holy Water prompted Rachel to reach for a container, placing it carefully in her front pocket to avoid accidental breakage. "Finally, there's fire. You can literally burn them to kill them. So you can see why I stick with the stake." She made a vague stabbing gesture before securing her cross necklace around her neck and picking up her stake.

“Got everything?” Quinn's voice dripped with sarcasm, but Rachel, focused on the gravity of their task, let it slide. 

Responding with utmost seriousness, she said, "I do now. Thank you for asking. So, we are good to leave now. Are you sure that you wish to accompany me?"

Quinn offered no verbal reply, instead walking out of Rachel's bedroom with an expectant look that silently urged Rachel to follow. Rachel, flipping off lights as they passed through the dimly lit corridor, trailed behind Quinn until they reached the front door.

Opening the door, Quinn spoke again, her tone casual, "Where to, Berry?"

“I normally start at graveyard number one and then make my way through them,” Rachel replied.

Quinn nodded and they started walking. 

They walked peacefully in silence Rachel keeping an eye out for any stray vampires before the quiet started driving her nuts. Rachel was never one for companionable silence. Why be silent when you could talk or if that wasn’t an option to sing or hum. In this case it was the latter two that weren’t options though so instead Rachel started speaking before she even knew where her words were going to end up.

“So Quinn, what have you been getting up to this afternoon? Oh, wait... wait... you mentioned that when you rather unexpectedly showed up at my house - how did you even know my address - that you had found some potential demons in those books? You read incredibly fast Quinn.” 

Quinn let out a soft laugh. “Did you even breathe?” Quinn looked at Rachel for a second before turning back to the front to see where she was walking “Those books mentioned a species of demons that feast on human organs so that is one option,” Rachel nodded not that Quinn could see her “another is a species of demons that build themselves human bodies out of human organs. Each of those species have subspecies so unless we find out more information we won’t be able to know exactly which one of those it is, if it even is one of those.” 

Arriving at the first graveyard, Rachel walked past the locked gate to a spot where she had disconnected the fence. With practiced ease, she opened it, motioning for Quinn to follow.

“That is what Ms Holliday said. Without any more information we are finding ourselves at a bit of an impasse.” 

After both had walked through the gap in the fence, Rachel shut it behind them and continued in her usual direction. Quinn stumbled momentarily but quickly regained her footing and followed suit.

“Don’t you have a flashlight Berry?”

“A flashlight would be a beacon for all the vampires to come running. It is okay Quinn, your eyes will adjust pretty quickly” She hesitated before holding out her hand to Quinn. “You, you can hold my hand? To help you. Until your eyes adjust?” She stumbled over her words but luckily Quinn didn’t respond and instead just reached out and grabbed her hand. 

They walked together in the darkness for a while before Quinn broke the silence. “Is this what you do every night? Just walk around looking for vampires?” Quinn's inquiry cut through the darkness, her voice breaking the silence that enveloped them.

Rachel nodded, forgetting for a moment that Quinn's eyes probably hadn't adjusted yet to the dim surroundings, given her lesser familiarity with the nightly routine.

“Pretty much.”

“Doesn’t it get boring?”

“When I first started, I used to practice my singing for my Myspace video, but then I was informed that maybe that was not the most intelligent choice on my part. So now I just walk around with my thoughts. It can be quite peaceful, actually.”

“Must be the only time of the day you're quiet,” Quinn's words, surprisingly lacking bite, carried an unexpected tone of affection.

“That is true.”

“Tell me something, Berry-" Quinn began, her voice tinged with curiosity, but Rachel's hand shot out to halt Quinn's words as a silhouette appeared by a grave in the distance.

Quinn quickly caught on, falling silent, her posture subtly tensing. Rachel sensed Quinn's grip on her stake tightening ever so slightly in preparation. The atmosphere shifted, the stillness of the graveyard echoing with an unspoken anticipation as they both focused on the potential threat ahead.

Releasing her hold on Quinn's hand, Rachel was keenly aware of her need to see the coming confrontation clearly, requiring both hands free to face a potential vampire. Leaning closer to Quinn, she whispered into her ear, "Get behind me, and when I tell you to, stop walking and let me deal with it."

Quinn opened her mouth to respond, but Rachel shook her head, prompting a nod of agreement from Quinn instead.

Once satisfied that Quinn had complied and was safely positioned behind her, Rachel cautiously approached the silhouette by the grave, closing the distance. As she got within a few grave plots of the figure, she could discern enough details to confirm her suspicions – it was a vampire. The vampire stood by the grave in old-fashioned attire, stained with blood, like he was waiting for something.

Rachel extended her hand behind her as a signal for Quinn to halt. She continued forward until she was within touching distance of the vampire. With her stake securely in hand, Rachel took a deep breath before addressing him.

"Excuse me, sir," she said, causing the vampire to spin around in startled surprise. 

Rachel seized the opportunity and, drawing upon all her Slayer strength, swiftly drove the stake into his heart before he could react. His face displayed shock before he disintegrated into ash.

With a triumphant grin, Rachel turned around to face Quinn. It had been one of her more efficient slayings, and Quinn had been a witness to it. Quinn surprised her with a genuine smile, not one of the fake ones she often displayed at school. Rachel assumed they were alike in that respect, with more fake smiles than genuine ones.

Quinn moved forward, as if expecting to continue walking, but Rachel instead stepped closer to the grave, examining the dates inscribed on it – "Mark Kent, RIP, 20 April 1972 - 18 November 2010," that was just the other day.

"Quinn, wait," Rachel said. Quinn looked at her questioningly but remained silent. "The vampire, he was waiting, and this grave is recent. A vampire is going to come out of here soon. We have to wait."

Quinn returned to where Rachel was standing, and once again, she smiled. 

"Before the vampire," Rachel gestured vaguely, "you wanted to ask me something?" 

She moved over to the side of the grave and leaned against it. Quinn followed suit, leaning against the back of it, and they ended up side by side.

"I was just wondering how you feel about this whole Slayer thing," Quinn inquired, her voice hesitant. 

Rachel paused, carefully considering her response before she began to speak. “At first I was upset, I did not really believe Ms Holliday when she told me. It was only killing a vampire that made me believe it. I still did not accept it though, that only happened when,” Rachel hesitated, she didn’t want to say too much, “when someone could have died because I was too stubborn to accept the truth and train. Now while I still do not understand why I was chosen, I have accepted it and I will admit that I do enjoy the adrenaline of a good slay.” She shot Quinn a small smile.

“I know why you were chosen.” 

Rachel jerked her head in Quinn’s direction. How?

“You do?”

“You said the Slayer is a mystic chosen one sort of figure right?” Quinn queried.

“Yes.”

“Your heart Rachel, you have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. That’s why they choose you,” Quinn shrugged. “Or at least that’s my opinion.” 

Rachel was confused. Quinn was a bundle of seeming contradictions and while Rachel would admit that that was part of what drew her to the blonde, this time though, she was confused. It was one thing for Quinn to randomly decide to help her but another to stand and compliment her in the dark after two years of doing the opposite. 

“I do not understand-” Rachel started before noticing that the dirt by the freshly dug grave was starting to move. She moved from where she was leaning against the grave to go stand in front of it so she could be in a perfect slaying position when he emerged. Quinn had looked like she was about to respond before Rachel had moved. But understanding what was occuring she didn’t speak but instead she stood up from where she had been leaning behind the grave.

“Get behind me again.”  Rachel ordered. 

Quinn rolled her eyes but otherwise listened to what Rachel said and moved behind Rachel. 

A hand emerged from the grave and started moving around and she felt herself shudder involuntarily and she heard Quinn give a gagging sound behind her. 

It was just something about the sight of a dirty hand reaching out from the ground and grabbing around that was confronting and upsetting. A second hand joined the first one and this time they got a firm grip on the ground so more of the vampire started emerging.

Once the vampire had pulled himself out of the grave and started to look around Rachel spoke.  

“Hi Mark,” She pushed the stake into his heart and watched as he exploded into ash. “Bye Mark,” 

Quinn let out a soft giggle behind her. 

She turned around to look at Quinn and then gestured further into the graveyard.  “We can keep walking now.” Quinn nodded and they started to walk. She couldn’t get what Quinn had said out of her head. “I am confused.” 

Quinn let out a soft sigh and spoke without looking at Rachel. “You are amazing Rachel. Truly. If I were going to pick one great saviour of the human race I would pick you.” Quinn paused as if gathering her thoughts. “On top of your heart which is so big, your determination is just… Your determination is what will get you out of this town and it is what makes you a perfect slayer.” Quinn stopped walking suddenly though and spun around to look Rachel dead in the eyes, “you shouldn’t be though. Not because you can’t do the job but because you deserve better than a job in which it seems you are destined to die. You are going to get out of this town and it’s not going to be in a coffin.” 

Rachel didn’t know how to respond. So she just started walking again and Quinn followed.

“You hate me,” Rachel couldn’t help it out of all the thoughts echoing through her head that was the loudest one.

Quinn reached out and tugged on Rachel’s hand and spun her around to face her.

“I don’t Rachel. I never have” Quinn said earnestly.

“But-” Rachel started but was interrupted by Quinn.

“- I know, I know how I treated you and I know this isn’t going to make it up to you at all but it was never about you. It was about me.” Quinn took a deep breath but continued staring Rachel dead in her eyes. “I am so sorry for how I treated you Rachel.” 

“Where is this coming from?” Rachel asked, trying to duck her head away from Quinns piercing stare but Quinn reached out and gently lifted Rachels head back up before dropping her hand back down.

“You saved my life and I realised that I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t.”

“That was weeks ago.” Rachel said without thinking.

“I’m stubborn Berry, you know that. It took a while for my head to catch up to my heart but I need you to know that I am truly sorry.” 

Rachel wasn’t sure how to respond so she just nodded. She wanted to ask why but she wasn’t confident enough to do that. So she just started walking again instead. 

They were quiet for a while before Quinn spoke again “You’ve offered this in the past and I didn’t accept it but if the offer is still out there I would very much like to be your friend.” 

“The offer is still out there Quinn,” she turned to Quinn and gave her a blinding smile before she turned back and kept walking. They walked in silence again for a couple of meters before they reached the end of the graveyard. Rachel opened another one of her secret entrances and they walked out. Rachel started to walk in the direction of graveyard number two but Quinn got her attention.

“Rachel,” she stopped walking and turned around to face Quinn. That was all Quinn needed as she continued speaking. “I should go. I told Santana I was going to yours when she asked me where I was going and she was pretty upset so I should go do damage control in case she trashed my room.”

“She would do that?” Rachel didn’t know why she was surprised it was Santana after all.

“Not usually, she’s been so nice since letting me come live with them after Beth-”

“-Santana nice?” It shot out of her unintentionally but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret the words.

“She’s different when she’s not at school or if you are someone she trusts.” Quinn took a deep breath and then continued as if she hadn’t previously been interrupted. “She’s been nice, so normally I wouldn’t think that she’d trash my room but she’s been in a weird mood lately and she was angry at the fact that I have been hanging out with you these last couple of days,” Quinn shrugged. “So I should go.” 

Rachel nodded “That is quite understandable Quinn, it is completely reasonable for you to wish to ensure that your personal property has not been vandalised especially considering that they are all that you have since your parents,” Rachel inadvertently made a face as she thought of Russell Fabray and then she thought about how his wife just stood by while it happened and she made a face about that as well, “since they treated you so horrendously.”

Quinn smiled at Rachel “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,”  Rachel started to walk away in the direction of graveyard number two once more but Quinn yelled out for her again. When she turned back around Quinn offered her the stake back. “Keep it.” 

That time as she walked away she wasn’t called back.

The next morning when Rachel walked into McKinley after training she was not met by a Slushy but instead by Tina. It seemed like Tina was intent on making her believe that last week was uncharacteristic of her and that instead she could be useful and be a friend to Rachel. 

“I read those books,” Tina said without a greeting, stepping quickly into Rachel’s walking path. “And I found two potential species it could be.”

Rachel paused halfway to her locker, surprised by the ambush. Tina hadn’t even said hello. Probably trying to get the words out before Rachel could brush her off. Not that Rachel was planning to, but she could understand why Tina might think she would.

Rachel narrowed her eyes, her mind still foggy with exhaustion. “Let me guess. One species feasts on human organs, and the other builds a body out of human organs?”

Tina blinked, taken aback. “Well… yes.”

A reluctant smile tugged at Rachel’s lips. “Quinn mentioned those to me last night. Turns out, they are the same ones I came across in my own book. So at least we are all on the same page. Unfortunately, the lore does not distinguish them clearly enough to tell which one we are actually facing, and that puts us at a bit of a disadvantage.”

“You saw Quinn last night?” Tina asked, and this time her voice held something softer. Something cautious.

Rachel looked away, pretending to focus on the lock as she spun the dial. She could feel Tina watching her closely.

“She came by to share what she had found,” Rachel answered, her tone clipped.

The locker popped open with a soft metallic clank, but Rachel didn’t reach for her books. She turned back to Tina instead.

“Did you tell Ms. Holliday what you found?” Tina asked. There was hesitation in her voice, like she wasn’t sure if she was overstepping.

Rachel nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. “I spoke to her this morning during training. She told me it is nothing new. We still do not have enough to act on. We are stuck.”

With that, she turned back to her locker, pulling out the textbooks she needed. She assumed the conversation was over and Tina would walk away.

Instead, Tina said, “So… what do you think we should sing for the group number at Sectionals? I know Mr. Shuester already made his choices, but if you could choose - what would it be?”

Rachel blinked, caught off guard. She shut her locker door slowly and turned to face Tina.

“Um…” She hesitated, gauging the sincerity in Tina’s expression. Finding only curiosity, she continued, “There is a Frank Turner song called ‘I Still Believe.’ Have you heard it?”

Tina shook her head.

“In it, he sings about the power of rock and roll to change the world,” Rachel explained, her voice taking on a soft passion. “But I interpret it more broadly. I think he means music in general. Music has this strange, beautiful way of shaping people, of reaching into the soul. I think that would be a powerful group number. A way to close with something meaningful.”

They started walking down the hallway together. Rachel noticed Tina hadn’t responded yet and glanced at her.

“What?” she asked. “Are you surprised it is not Broadway? I do like other music too, you know. I weill admit, I often find Broadway vastly superior, but that does not mean I do not appreciate other genres. I love all kinds of music.”

“No,” Tina said quickly, shaking her head. “It’s not that. It’s just…” She paused, biting her lip. “Listening to you now - how passionate you are about music and Glee Club - I don’t understand how we never listened to you.”

Rachel didn’t know what to say to that. The weight of those words pressed into her chest. She merely shrugged as they walked into homeroom, slipping into her seat without a reply. Tina sat next to her, and their conversation died there as the teacher entered and began taking attendance.

The rest of the day unfolded with a strange sense of normalcy. Rachel went to class. She spent her lunch break in the choir room, alone, catching up on vocal warm-ups and practicing scales she’d neglected during nights spent patrolling. Tina kept showing up - walking with her to classes they shared, waiting for her by her locker. Rachel didn’t say anything about it, but something inside her softened each time Tina hovered near.

When their last class ended, Tina reappeared again, falling into step beside her as they made their way to the choir room. Rachel retrieved her bag in silence, and together they entered Glee.

Instead of taking her usual seat, Tina dropped down beside Rachel without comment. Rachel didn’t bother with her warm-ups. It felt too vulnerable with someone sitting that close, especially someone she wasn’t used to opening up to. Besides, she doubted today’s rehearsal would require her voice.

Quinn walked in a moment later, flanked by Santana and Brittany. She gave Rachel a small, fleeting smile as she passed, but didn’t stop or say anything. The others filed in soon after, chatting idly. Rachel kept mostly to herself, only speaking when directly addressed.

Then Mr. Shuester clapped his hands together and took center stage. “Okay, guys, time to get serious.”

The room quieted.

“For Sectionals,” he continued, “the setlist will be ‘Faithfully’ as our duet, ‘I’ll Remember’ as the solo, and ‘Anyway You Want It’ as the group number.”

Rachel stared at him. None of those were songs the club had suggested yesterday. So what was the point of asking? They could have spent that entire rehearsal actually practicing instead of pretending their opinions mattered.

“Mr. Shuester, if I may- ” Rachel started, lifting her hand slightly.

Before she could finish, a voice cut across the room like a whip.

“You didn’t get a solo, and that should be enough of a sign that we don’t want to listen to you.” Santana’s voice was dripping with venom. “So sit there like a good mannequin, and be very still, and very quiet.”

Gasps rippled across the room. Rachel felt her face flush, but before she could find a retort, another voice rose - sharp and unexpected.

“Santana!” Quinn’s voice cracked through the tension. She stood from her seat, eyes hard.

Everyone turned in surprise, including Rachel. She stared at Quinn, heart skipping in her chest.

For a moment, no one moved. Then Quinn sat back down and Santana let out a scoff.

“What tubbers, just because you're friends with the troll now doesn’t mean that we all have to put up with her.” Santana hissed, turning to her side to look at Quinn where she sat. 

“Your friends with Rachel now?” Kurt turned around to look at Quinn in shock. Rachel braced herself for the rejection that never came.

“Yes.”

There were shocked exclamations throughout the choir room and Rachel forced herself to force the hurt down and instead worked to direct the conversation to sectionals. 

“Mr Shuester!” She projected her voice loudly so that it went over the din of shocked questions directed at Quinn and managed to catch their teacher's attention. “I must suggest that we start preparing for sectionals rather than get distracted by these nonsequential matters.'' 

Mr Shuester cleared his throat a couple of times to get everyone’s attention. “So before Rachel interrupted I was going to say that we should start with working on how to split the group song and blocking it and then if Santana and Finn could stay longer at the end we’ll work on the duet and tomorrow after glee Kurt, we can work on the solo.” He clapped his hands together, “then we’ll be all ready to crush it at sectionals on Saturday.”  

When Glee finished Quinn walked over to where Rachel was sitting. Tina had already left as soon as Mr Shuester had dismissed them. Santana, who was standing at the front with Mr Shuester and Finn gave Rachel a piercing glare when Quinn walked over to Rachel. Once Quinn reached Rachel Santana started making some gestures with her hands as if attempting to communicate with Quinn. 

Quinn however just kept her eyes fixed on Rachel until Santana had her attention pulled away from them by something Mr Shuester said. 

Once Santana was no longer staring at them Quinn spoke hesitantly. “Can I come on patrol with you again tonight?”

“Why?” While Rachel understood that Quinn had reached out and accepted her hand in friendship last night she didn’t completly understand how this was happening. 

Quinn seemed to consider her words carefully before she responded “I enjoyed last night.” She shrugged “and who knows I may even get to slay a vampire myself this time” 

“Slaying is incredibly dangerous.” Rachel replied dumbly.

“I’m not scared” Quinn jutted out her chin and stared Rachel dead in the eyes. “So what do you say? Can I come?” 

Rachel could see this going one of two ways. Firstly she said no and Quinn rescinded her offer of friendship or two she said yes and Ms Holliday yelled at her. 

She chose the option that would hurt her less.

“Sure. I leave my house at around 8 or 9pm when it’s dark and the vampires have had time to come out. So if you meet me at my house at 8 you may accompany me on my patrol. However, I will request that the same rules as last night still apply, namely that you allow me to take care of the vampires.” 

Quinn nodded. Rachel smiled at her and started to pack up but when she glanced up after zipping up her back pack as she placed it on her back she noticed that Quinn was still standing there. Still ignoring the looks Santana kept shooting at her. 

“Pardon me Quinn, but why are you still standing here?” 

“I was going to walk out with you.” Quinn said completely casually as if her words were completely expected and normal.

“Oh, okay…” She walked to the choir room door and was followed by Quinn. 

They walked all the way to the parking area before they had to split up for Quinn to go to cheerios parking and Rachel could go to the other non cheerio parking in companionable silence. 

“I’ll see you at 8 Berry,” Quinn turned and walked to the cheerio parking lot, tossing a half wave behind her as she went.

The morning of Sectionals dawned grey and heavy, a low blanket of clouds pressing down on Lima as Rachel approached the school. She was the first to arrive, her shoes echoing faintly against the pavement of the nearly deserted parking lot. The air still carried the sharp bite of winter’s edge, and she pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders as she waited for the bus.

A car pulled into the lot, and Rachel straightened as the doors opened. Out stepped Quinn, dressed immaculately as always, her blonde ponytail bouncing slightly with each step. Santana emerged after her, dragging her feet and scowling at the early hour.

Rachel didn’t have to guess why Santana was here so early. She was willing to bet it was because Quinn had insisted they leave on time. Santana didn’t strike her as the punctual type unless forced.

“Berry,” Quinn greeted with a warm smile as she walked over.

It hadn’t been long since Rachel had last seen her. Only a few hours, really. They had parted ways around midnight, after another late patrol. Quinn had been tagging along since Tuesday, insisting she could help even though Rachel hadn’t asked. 

Santana scoffed loudly from across the lot. “Of course the freak’s already here. We beat the damn bus, too.”

She didn’t move to join them. Instead, she leaned against the side of her car, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in irritation. Quinn ignored her completely and turned back to Rachel.

“Don’t mind her. She hasn’t had coffee yet.”

Rachel tilted her head slightly. “I have found that waking up at least an hour before departure offers a proper balance. It allows one enough time to get dressed, enjoy a peaceful breakfast, and, of course, consume caffeine before interacting with others. It lessens the chances of snapping at innocent bystanders.”

Santana let out another derisive scoff, but didn’t offer a reply.

Rachel and Quinn fell into light conversation, exchanging small, easy words as the rest of the club trickled in. Around the same time the yellow school bus pulled into the parking lot, the rest of their team began appearing, bundled in coats and carrying garment bags.

Once aboard, Rachel made her way down the aisle. She chose a window seat and, to her surprise, Quinn slid in beside her without hesitation. Santana paused mid-step, staring at the empty space next to her and Brittany with a look of pure disbelief.

“Why are you sitting with the troll?” Santana snapped, grabbing onto the back of the seat in front of Rachel and Quinn. “Fabray, come sit with us.”

Quinn didn’t blink. “We’re friends, Santana.”

“That’s what I don’t understand.” Santana's voice was rising, frustration bleeding through every word. “When school started, you were right there with the rest of us sane people who wanted nothing to do with her. Now suddenly you’re best buds? Sneaking around and hanging out with her at night?”

Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Kurt, who twisted in his seat to peer back at them.

“You hang out with her at night?” he asked, surprise flickering in his voice.

Quinn’s jaw tightened. Rachel could feel the tension radiating off her. She didn’t want this to escalate.

Rachel sat forward, lifting her voice before Quinn could retaliate. “Santana, while I understand your deep-seated discomfort with my existence, may I humbly suggest that we suspend our animosities until after Sectionals? We can go back to hating each other tomorrow, but today, we need to be united. A lack of cohesion could cost us the win.”

Santana rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath as she dropped into her seat beside Brittany. “We get along just fine. It’s you we don’t like.”

The rest of the ride passed in tense silence. The hum of the bus filled the void as conversations slowly sparked up again between seatmates. Rachel stared out the window for most of it, trying not to think too much about what lay ahead.

When the bus finally pulled into the venue’s lot, a flurry of motion broke out as students stood, reaching for bags and garment covers. Rachel rose more slowly, methodically gathering her things. She could already hear the rush of footsteps and excited chatter outside as the others spilled onto the pavement.

Once off the bus, she stood a little apart from the main crowd, Quinn and Tina flanking her. She didn’t mind being on the edge. It was quieter here.

Mr. Schuester appeared from the front of the building, clapping his hands together to get their attention. “Alright guys,” he said, sounding far too chipper for Rachel’s liking, “I spoke to the organizers and they’ve told me where to take you all. Follow me.”

The group followed him around the side of the building and in through a side entrance that led into a narrow corridor. 

They were led into a green room, bright with fluorescent lights and filled with folding chairs and mirrors. To either side were the rooms where their competitors waited. Rachel knew both teams by name from show choir message boards. Neither had ever placed at Sectionals, but she wasn’t foolish enough to count them out. A strong performance could always surprise you. Just like New Directions had the year before.

They began changing into their costumes. Simple black pants and black shirts, paired with bold, jewel-toned ties. It wasn’t the most dazzling ensemble Rachel had worn onstage, but it would serve.

Once dressed, Rachel slipped toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Quinn’s voice came in a low whisper behind her.

Rachel turned her head slightly and whispered back, “I’m going to observe our opposition. It never hurts to know what we’re up against.”

Quinn looked like she was about to follow, but Rachel quickly added, “Please, stay here. Someone needs to make sure the others don’t wander off or spill food on their costumes. And we go on in…” She checked the clock. “Twenty minutes.”

Rachel was being nice because last night during the patrol Quinn had confessed that performing still made her nervous, even after all this time. Rachel, while unable to fully empathize with that feeling, having not experienced stage fright ever in her life, knew the importance of ensuring that Quinn didn't get overwhelmed if their competition somehow exceeded expectations.

In response to Quinn's nod of agreement, Rachel quietly turned and slipped away, unnoticed by the rest of their team.

Their initial competitors, the 'Lima Lyricalists' from Lima's other public school, put forth a commendable effort, trying to pose a challenge. However, Rachel couldn't help but notice several moments of vocal imperfection, with leads going flat or off-pitch. It was evident to her that no fair judge would allow them to advance further. She nodded to herself, feeling confident in their chances, and returned to the green room where the New Directions were preparing for their performance.

As they reached the backstage area, Kurt stepped forward, the sole singer to emerge from behind the curtain, ready to deliver his solo. When the curtain rose, he began to sing. Once more, Rachel was struck by the recurring realization that the New Directions possessed immense potential, if only they'd commit to putting in genuine effort and vocal training. It pained her to see and hear their untapped potential and know that they'd never make the effort to reach their full potential, content with mediocre achievements without realising how good they could be. 

When Kurt concluded his performance and retreated from the stage, Finn and Santana stepped up. The rest of the New Directions fanned out behind them, executing a rather simplistic dance routine.

When Rachel used the term 'simple,' she meant it in the most straightforward sense. The choreography was so basic that she could have learned it by the end of her first year of dance classes at the age of four. The only consolation was that the Lima Lyricalists hadn't included any dances in their performance. However, when Finn began to sing, Rachel knew she had to prepare for the possibility of a lower score. Finn sounded as if he had barely practiced at all, except for that one session with Mr. Schuester on Wednesday. Rachel winced, hoping that maybe Finn's voice would sound better to the audience, especially those farther from the stage. In the meantime, she focused her attention on Santana, whose singing was notably more impressive.

She allowed her eyes to glance through the crowd to see if her dads were sitting at the seats she had purchased only to find two empty seats staring at her. She blinked a couple of times to stop any inadvertent tears from falling and refocused on the dancing and singing routine before starting with her backing vocals for the group number. 

When they left the stage and walked to the green room Rachel could see the tension coming off Sanatana in waves. The minute the door shut in the green room she exploded and stormed towards Finn.

“What was that?” She came to a stop an arms width away from Finn. “I didn’t know it was possible for you to sound worse than when we had sex but you live to surpass expectations, don't you Finnocence? Because you just did!” Santana reached out and uselessly shoved at Finn “You sounded worse than when we had sex!”

“Hey!” Finn rubbed at his shoulder as if Santana had actually hurt him with that shove. 

If Finn was about to say anything else though Rachel didn’t know as Santana’s words fully sunk into her.

“You and Finn had sex?” 

Finn reached up and ran his hand through his hair. “Last year when you and Jesse,” he muttered to Rachel while staring at the ground before drifting off and not finishing the sentence. 

Rachel didn’t need him to though, she knew what he was talking about. 

“So while you were pressuring me to have sex with you this summer you were lying to me having already partaken in intercourse with Santana?” 

Her voice, laced with a simmering anger, quivered with the profound hurt and a sense of betrayal that churned relentlessly within her. It was as though the trust she had placed in Finn, while in the past, had been shattered into a thousand pieces, each fragment cutting her deeper as she stood there, grappling with the weight of her emotions. 

“Oh give it up dwarf, nobody cares about your drama. This is old news everyone already knew. What I care about is how badly Finncompetant here sang today.” Santana reached out to shove Finn again. 

Finn made a soft sound of indignation but otherwise didn’t respond. 

“Everyone knew?”  Rachel looked around the room and nobody would meet her eyes, not even Quinn or Tina.

“Nobody ever tells you anything because, A: We all just pretend to like you and B: You’re a humongous loser Berry.” Santana said without looking at Rachel, keeping her eyes fixed on Finn.

“Gee, I've always wondered who was in charge of deciding who is, and who isn't a loser.” The retort came out of her mouth without even thinking of the consequences.

“What did you just say to me yentl?” 

Rachel wasn’t really interested in getting into it with Santana. She had been feeling the frustration building up in her for days since Santana first started increasing her verbal attacks on Rachel. So what if Santana was upset Quinn was hanging out more with her now? Why should punching down at Rachel compensate for the gap?

She was so close to biting back and releasing some of the steam pent up inside. Any other day she would take the opportunity but she was slightly more stuck on the fact that Finn had been dating her and pressuring her to have sex while lying about being a virgin. And that was a slightly bigger problem than Santana. A more deserved outlet for her frustration and rage. The more she thought about Finn, the more she felt some of the lingering affection for him leave her. He was going to get ranted at, she just had to figure out exactly what to say. 

Rachel was pulled from her thoughts by a scream so piercing and raw it seemed to slice through the air and lodge itself in her chest. It came from the room next door.

She didn’t hesitate. Something primal surged up inside her, one of the new Slayer instincts she was learning to trust: run toward the screams, not away. Face the thing that terrified everyone else. Confront the horror before it could do more damage.

That was the logical reason. The less logical one - the one she didn’t want to linger on - was that she needed space from the mounting tension inside their green room. 

She stepped out into the hallway, the fluorescent lighting buzzing faintly above her. Just outside the door to the next green room stood the entire team from the Lima Lyricists, clustered together in a pale, silent huddle. Several of them leaned against the wall like they couldn’t quite support their own weight. Their eyes were wide, locked on the door that stood ajar behind them.

Rachel slowed as she approached, eyes scanning the group. Something was wrong. The scream had come from their room. Judging by their expressions, they had walked in and seen something that would not soon leave their minds. She counted heads quickly. Their lead female vocalist was missing.

And all of them looked sick.

Rachel pushed forward, meeting only minimal resistance as she slipped between two members of the group. Inside the room, the fluorescent lights hummed their indifferent song.

The body was impossible to miss.

She froze at the threshold, nausea crawling up her throat as her eyes locked on the scene inside. The lead singer - just yesterday bragging on the message boards about her new solo - was lying in a dark pool of blood. Her limbs were twisted slightly, head turned toward the ceiling. Her skin looked waxy under the lights.

Rachel swallowed hard and took a step closer.

At first glance, it was almost identical to what they’d found with Emily. But this time, the girl’s lungs were still in her body. Rachel exhaled slowly, trying to keep herself steady. Then her eyes moved again, scanning the torso. Her stomach twisted all over again.

No heart.

She barely registered the hand grabbing her arm until the voice followed.

“Hey! Get out of there!”

Rachel blinked and turned to see one of the Lyricists gripping her sleeve with red-rimmed eyes and fury etched across his face. He pulled at her like he could yank her out of the room with sheer force.

“That’s our friend! Back off!” he snapped.

“Apologies,” Rachel said quietly, gently slipping free from his grip. Her voice remained calm, even though her own pulse was hammering in her ears. “I was simply trying to understand what caused the screaming.”

With one last glance at the body, she turned away and walked back into the hallway, her shoes nearly silent against the linoleum. She made her way toward the New Directions, who had stepped outside their green room and were clearly waiting for her return.

“What are they freaking about, Berry?” Santana's voice had undergone a complete transformation since her earlier yelling. Her intrige into what had happend outweighing her dislike of Rachel. Judging by the expressions on everyone else's faces, they were equally curious.

“Their lead singer, she is pretty good, although she was sharp a couple of times. She is dead.”

Kurt let out a sharp exhale, his hand flying to his chest. “God, do you have any tact?”

He shook his head, but his voice shifted quickly to a lower register. “How, though?”

Rachel shrugged, not because she didn’t care, but because it was the only gesture that could contain how overwhelmed she felt. “I cannot say for certain. That is up to the authorities. But there was quite a lot of blood. So I think it’s safe to say it was not caused by natural causes.”

Kurt looked like he wanted to say more, but fell silent.

“What’s with you and dead bodies this week?” he muttered instead.

Rachel only narrowed her eyes slightly in response.

“I suppose death has taken an interest in my schedule,” she replied dryly.

Before anyone could react, Mr. Schuester arrived, pushing open the door with a look that tried and failed to be comforting.

“Okay, everyone,” he said, gesturing for their attention. “The police are on their way. I need you all to stay in this room until they arrive.”

The room broke into a low chorus of mutters and shifting feet, but no one disobeyed. They returned to their seats, some more reluctantly than others. Rachel remained standing, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Once the door shut behind them, she turned to Mr. Schuester with practiced calm.

“Mr. Schuester,” she said. “I know these are unpleasant circumstances, but will the winners of Sectionals still be announced?”

Kurt groaned aloud, throwing his head back dramatically. “Seriously, Rachel? Someone just died.”

Rachel didn’t flinch. “And yet, the competition was still scheduled to continue. So yes, I am asking.”

Mr. Schuester hesitated. “There won’t be a formal announcement,” he said after a beat. “But I just spoke to the organizers. So... congratulations, guys. We’re going to Regionals.”

There was a pause. No one cheered. The victory felt hollow.

“Start packing up,” he added. “We’re getting out of here.”

Back on the bus, Rachel took her usual window seat near the back. She didn’t expect anyone to join her, and when Quinn sat beside her again without asking, Rachel didn’t say anything. She stared straight ahead, her jaw set.

They were on the road when Quinn finally broke the silence.

“Was the body the same as Emily’s?”

Rachel kept her gaze fixed on the window, her voice as cool and composed as she could manage. “It was similar. A lot of blood. But this time the demon took her heart.”

Quinn let out a breath beside her. “That should help narrow it down.”

Rachel nodded, still not looking at her. “It should.”

Quinn hesitated before continuing. “Anything come to mind yet?”

“I’ll speak to Ms. Holliday tomorrow,” Rachel answered quickly. “I’ll get her input. She’ll know what this points to.”

The bus rumbled beneath them. Quinn was quiet, thoughtful. She tried again.

“I could go through the books again tonight. Help figure out what—”

“I already said I’ll speak to Ms. Holliday,” Rachel interrupted, sharper than she intended. She sighed and softened her tone just slightly. “You’ve done enough.”

Quinn recoiled faintly but said nothing else. Rachel felt the tension thicken between them, but she refused to acknowledge it. She let the silence stretch out, heavy and final.

Quinn gave up trying after that. 

When they pulled into McKinley’s parking lot, the Glee Club filed off the bus in clumps. Rachel gathered her things with mechanical precision and stepped off last, keeping her eyes on the pavement.

Before she could disappear completely, Tina caught up with her, walking in step beside her.

“So... do you think it’s the same demon?” Tina asked quietly.

Rachel didn’t even glance at her. “You can check the books. You’re good at that.”

Tina slowed her pace, sensing the dismissal. She nodded silently and drifted away without another word, pulling her phone from her pocket as she headed off to the library.

Rachel kept walking. Her shoulders were stiff, her bag heavy on her back, and her mind spinning in tired, bitter circles. For now, she just wanted the world to stop needing things from her.

But she knew it wouldn’t.

Later that night, at eight o’clock, Rachel was jolted by a knock on her door. Expecting solitude after the strained bus ride home, she was surprised to find Quinn standing there, clad in her customary patrol outfit of comfortable jeans and a sweater, stake in hand.

“You ready, Berry?” Quinn lifted her stake, awaiting Rachel's response. 

Flustered, Rachel could only manage a nod. Leaving the door ajar, she fetched her belongings before returning to where Quinn had stationed herself in the foyer. The two left without exchanging words, Quinn following Rachel as they approached Graveyard number one.

“What’s with the silence? Normally you're talking pretty constantly by now,” Quinn inquired. 

Rachel struggled to formulate a response, her internal defenses against revealing her emotions gradually weakening. Suppressing feelings was second nature to her, except when she sang, but Quinn's persistence chipped away at those defenses.

“I, I,” she took a breath, steadfastly gazing ahead at the approaching entrance of Graveyard number one, “do not understand what it is about me that makes me so, so undesirable and unlikable that,” she spat out the next words, “everyone knew.” She paused, took another breath, and continued calmly, “Everyone knew, and nobody told me, nobody even thought to tell me. And you all just let Santana let everyone talk to me like I do not matter, like I am just some freak, and,” she sighed, trailing off as she reached the entrance, holding it open for Quinn.

“And?”

“I just do not understand what it is about me that makes everyone hate me,” she confessed. 

Quinn abruptly halted, grabbing Rachel's hand before they even reached the first grave.

“I don’t hate you,” Quinn's words echoed the sentiment from Tuesday night, yet Rachel still struggled to fully believe them. 

“Then why did you not tell me?” Her eyebrows knitted together in a mixture of doubt and vulnerability.

“I, I didn’t know until recently, and by then you guys had already broken up. Also, I thought you knew. I knew Finn was a jerk, but I didn’t know he was such a big jerk.” 

Rachel shook her hand to free it from Quinn's grasp before resuming her walk.

“But why with the insults and, and,” Rachel struggled to articulate her words, “Santana.” She trailed off, unable to express the depth of her hurt and unwilling to let Quinn know how wounded she had been when they were only friends for a couple of days. Quinn shrugged, taking a moment before responding as if carefully composing her thoughts.

“Santana is just struggling with some stuff that I don’t know about, and she hates that we are friends now. She’s really possessive over the people she cares about. Not in a bad way, but still, it’s not personal?” 

Rachel scoffed at Quinn's words. “I can assure you that it is, in fact, very personal. Not just with Santana but with Finn as well. You can say that about all of Santana’s insults, but I can assure you that despite appearances to the contrary, I took them, I took everybody’s insults very personally. Finn, Finn knew that, and he slept with her anyway while saying that he loved me.” She trailed off before mumbling her last thought, her gaze distant, lost in the painful memories. “You know if it was you, I would understand.”

Quinn had been about to respond to Rachel before her last statement, but when Rachel said that last comment, Quinn stopped dead, and Rachel had to stop and turn around to look at her. Quinn was gaping at her, opening and shutting her mouth before finally seeming to settle on what to say.

“You would understand?”

“I mean, yes, you are,” Rachel gestured vaguely at Quinn, her hand trembling slightly,  “you. Why would he not if he could? You're perfect, and I am, well, I am me. And he knows I have never held any animosity toward you but, Santana!” She took a deep breath. “And honestly, while who he slept with is deeply hurtful, that is not, that’s not what hurts the most. What hurts the most is that he lied, tried to pressure me into having sex, and everyone knew and said nothing.”

“I’m sorry, Rachel. I am so sorry.”

“It does not matter.” She attempted to shrug off Quinn's apologies, but Quinn didn’t let her.

“No, it does. We knew, we all knew that the insults affected you. We saw you going into the bathroom and coming out with red eyes. We knew, and I am so sorry that I apologized for all of that and then did nothing today when Santana was insulting you. Which must have made you doubt my sincerity. I am so sorry, Rachel.” 

Rachel nodded but didn’t say anything else. When they reached the entrance to the graveyard, Quinn spoke again.

“I know that I am the last person you want to be around right now, so I’ll go home. I just wanted to tell you I’m so sorry.” She turned to walk away, and Rachel shouted after her.

“You are not the last person. That honor would go to Finn or Santana. You are not the last person.” 

Quinn smiled at her. “Good to know.” She walked away, and Rachel turned to enter the graveyard for her patrol, a ghost of a smile still on her face.

When Rachel woke up the next morning she did a quick version of her usual morning routine in order to make it to Ms Holliday while still hopefully having time for the rest of her Sunday activities. When she arrived at Ms Holidays at 7am Ms Holliday answered the door with tousled clothes and hair. She stared at Rachel in quiet befuddlement for a couple of seconds before speaking.

“Is everything okay?”

“The demon struck again and I am quite certain as to the supernatural elements of this-” 

Ms Holliday held up her hand to stop Rachel and opened the door wider with her other hand “I haven’t had coffee yet. Come in.” 

Rachel walked into Ms Holidays heading straight to the couch to sit down before she spoke again. “So as I was saying the demon-” 

She was interrupted once again by Ms Holliday “-Coffee,” Rachel let out a sigh and acquisened and waited for Ms Holliday to make her coffee “Would you like a coffee too?” Ms Holliday said without looking over at Rachel.

“Yes please, I did not get time to prepare myself one this morning before leaving.” 

Ms Holliday hummed in response but otherwise said nothing as she poured a second cup of coffee milk free before walking over to the couch handing the coffee to Rachel and sitting down with a sigh. 

Once Ms Holliday had taken a sip of coffee Rachel took that as her signal to start speaking again. 

“The demon killed a girl from one of the opposing teams at sectionals yesterday. She was a good singer, occasionally sharp or flat but nothing that could not be fixed with some vocal training, but the demon killed her and took her heart. The two species of demons that we were thinking it could be, does this narrow it down?” 

Ms Holliday didn’t speak immediately, instead taking two large gulps of coffee before placing the coffee down on the coffee table and speaking. Rachel took the time to start drinking her own coffee.

“Yes.” Ms Holliday gave a sharp nod. “Based on the pattern, that narrows the demon down to two still within those two particular species but considering each species has at least fifty demons within them that is a pretty good narrowing down of the options. If the pattern continues and the next victim is a female missing a stomach then it’ll be the Zurnezan Demon of the Ar'erik Family. However if the pattern breaks and the next victim is a male that isn’t killed straight away but instead kept for a period of time before being killed with the previous organs being placed inside of him then it’ll be the Darzather Demon of the Argrannod Family.”

“Gross” Rachel said, blanching at the imagery.

“That’s most demons for you.” 

“So how do I find this demon and get rid of it?”

“That would be in those books that I believe you gave Quinn.” 

Rachel let out a soft sigh while Quinn and her had departed on good terms last night it was still hard for her to figure out where she stood with her. 

“Otherwise I have another book I can give you and you can also tackle some research on the internet. I’ll do some research of my own as well and we can touch base again tomorrow morning?” 

Rachel nodded, appreciating the guidance, and placed her empty coffee cup down on the coffee table next to Ms. Holliday’s. As she stood up, Ms. Holliday mirrored her actions, rising from her seat.

“Come with me, and I’ll grab you that book,” Ms. Holliday said, leading the way with purpose.

Following Ms. Holliday, Rachel entered a room lined with shelves filled with books. Ms. Holliday swiftly located the book she had mentioned and handed it to Rachel with a supportive smile.

Once the book had been obtained, Ms. Holliday walked with Rachel to the front door. Rachel opened the door, ready to depart, but Ms. Holliday caught her attention, prompting her to stop.

“Before you go, let me show you where I keep my spare key.” Ms. Holliday reached under her doormat and pulled out a key, revealing a well-intentioned but arguably unsafe hiding spot.

“That really is incredibly unsafe. If anyone was attempting to burglarise your residence, that would be the absolute first place that they would look,” Rachel pointed out, her concern etched across her features.

“I’m showing you this so that if the inspiration ever strikes you to come to my house again at an unholy hour of the morning when we don't have training, you don’t need to wake me up. Also, if you ever need to come here for whatever reason when I’m not here, you’ll know where the key is as well.”

“Thank you,” Rachel replied sincerely, her gratitude evident. 

Ms. Holliday smiled in response before placing the key back under the mat. The unexpected gesture touched Rachel -  Ms. Holliday was offering her house as a place of safety. Once the key was secured, Ms. Holliday stood back up, and they exchanged goodbyes before Rachel left to go home, the warmth of the mentorship lingering in the air.

Once Rachel arrived home she placed the book down on her bedside table intending to return to it once she practised her solo that she planned to perform in Glee the next day. It was while she was practising it that she was interrupted by a banging on her front door. When she went downstairs and opened it she found Tina standing on her doorstep. Tina pushed though and started speaking before Rachel had even greeted her. 

“I went to Mike’s this morning and he wasn’t there.” 

Rachel shut the front door and turned around to look at Tina.“Okay?”

“I did research last night and there’s a demon where this is what they do. Collect organs then kidnap an attractive male and then all frankensteins them,” Tina took a deep breath and went up in pitch, “Mike’s an attractive male, he would never stand me up he’s never late and, and it has to be the demon. You’re the Slayer, fix it and save him.” 

Tina fixed Rachel with a piercing look as Rachel took a deep breath and attempted to figure out a tactful response knowing that tact wasn’t really her forte.

“Okay, well I feel like maybe you skipped a couple of…” She puased for a second gathering her thougths. How could she phrase this delicately? “Logical steps there. You went straight from defcon four to defcon one. I am sure there is a completely logical non demon reason for Mike not being home.” 

Maybe she was using the word ‘logical’ too much.

“A non demon reason? In Lima?” Tina spat out. 

And Rachel had to hand it to her once she had found out about demons, the supernatural and hellmouths, a lot more about Lima had started to make sense. 

Rachel was pulled away from her conversation with Tina by another knock on the door. Rachel recognised the knock as the one Quinn always used when she arrived. Why Quinn was here on a Sunday morning was unknown though. It was a welcome distraction though hopefully giving Rachel some time to form her thoughts.

“That is Quinn.” Rachel said, glancing at the door. 

“Quinn is here? Why?” 

Rachel shrugged and walked over to the front door to open it and let Quinn in. Quinn walked into the foyer holding the two books from Ms Holliday before pausing upon seeing Tina.

“Hello Quinn.” Rachel said while shutting the door.

Quinn didn’t respond straight away, instead looking at Tina for a couple of seconds before turning her attention back to Rachel.

“Hello Rachel,” she gave Rachel a soft smile and then turned to Tina “Hi Tina,” she didn’t wait for a response before continuing speaking. “I was doing some research last night after we patrolled and I narrowed down the potential demons to-” Rachel interrupted Quinn not wanting to hear narrowed down demons for the third time that morning. 

“Zurnezan demon or the Darzather demon?” Quinn nodded surprised before Rachel continued “I do not suppose you know how to find them do you? Ms Holliday said that would be in,” she nodded toward the books in Quinn’s hand “those books and that would save time if we already have a way to find them.”

“I do but in order for the information to be useful we need to know which of the two it is.”

“It’s the Darzather  demon.” Tina chimed in for the first time since Quinn had arrived. Quinn shot an inquisitive look at Rachel.

“Tina is under the belief that the demon has taken Mike.” Rachel clarified.

Quinn looked over at Tina “How so?” 

Tina opened up her mouth no doubt to go into her whole spiel so Rachel cut her off before she could, “Before we get into all that” she gestured vaguely “I propose that we step out of the foyer and instead go upstairs to my bedroom?” 

She didn’t wait for their responses before walking in the direction of the stairs but she did see Quinn smile at her again as she turned. Once she reached her bedroom she held the door open for Quinn and Tina to enter before shutting it in case her dads unexpectedly came home. When she turned around Quinn was sitting on her desk chair with the books placed down on her desk on top of her sheet music she had been using for practising her solo whereas Tina was just standing in the entrance to her room looking around. Once Tina realised the door was shut she immediately started speaking.

“The demon took Mike. I am sure of it. I know I have given you guys no reason to trust me but please trust me. Please.” 

Rachel looked at Tina for a second and took in the desperation on her face and the tense way she was standing before responding.

“Okay, Quinn. If we assume it’s the Darzather demon and they’ve taken Mike, how do we find them?”

Before Quinn could answer, Tina, who had been hovering near the door in anxious silence, broke in with a soft, shaky breath.

“Thank you.”

Her voice was so quiet it almost disappeared into the silence of the room. Rachel didn’t respond. Instead, she turned her eyes to Quinn, waiting.

“If it is that demon,” Quinn began, her tone low and clinical, “they tend to hide in cave-like dwellings near bodies of water. Usually rivers.” She paused, her gaze flicking to Tina, who looked pale and near tears. “If they’ve taken Mike... he only has twelve hours. And that’s being generous. We don’t know exactly when he was taken, do we?”

Rachel turned her head toward Tina again, watching as the girl shook her head in short, helpless movements. Tina looked like she wanted to collapse.

“Then we narrow that timeframe significantly,” Quinn said. “Just to be safe.”

Rachel nodded in agreement and stepped closer to the desk, standing beside Quinn. She reached over and pulled the laptop closer, her fingers flying across the keys as she brought up a digital map of the city.

“You can sit down, if you want,” she said to Tina, who was still lingering by the door like she didn’t know if she was welcome.

Tina shook her head, eyes distant. Rachel offered no further encouragement. She turned back to the screen, eyes scanning the highlighted paths of Lima’s rivers. Minutes passed in silence before she spoke again.

“There are three possible locations. All of them fall within the city limits and are near water. I suggest we split up. If one of us finds the demon, we call the others immediately. No one engages alone.” She waited for the nods of agreement before adding, “There’s still the matter of how to kill or banish it. Ms. Holliday mentioned both were possible.”

“You can try both,” Quinn replied, already flipping through one of the old demonology books scattered across Rachel’s desk. “According to this,” she said after a moment, running her finger down the page, “Darzather demons can be banished—but only if they accept the Slayer’s authority. Otherwise, you have to kill it.”

“How?”

Quinn turned another page, squinting, then let out a small breath of disbelief. “Salt. It says if you empty an entire bag of salt over it... it melts.”

Rachel blinked, the lyric “so if you care to find me, look to the western sky” humming in the back of her mind. She bit her lip, refusing to sing it aloud, though a faint hum escaped before she could stop herself.

Quinn giggled softly. “You’re impossible.”

Rachel looked at her, just for a second, and the brief warmth passed between them.

She cleared her throat and bent back over the laptop. After printing out three copies of the map, she circled the potential demon locations on each and numbered them. “I will  take number one. Tina, you take two. Quinn, you are three.”

They quickly reviewed a few safety rules and agreed on contact points. With a final nod, the three left the room before splitting up.

Rachel's search was proving fruitless when her phone rang. She had had the foresight to put it on silent so it luckily didn’t blast ‘don’t rain on my parade’ loudly into the potentially demon filled cave. When she answered the phone Quinn informed her in hushed whispers that she was confident that her cave was the cave with the demon in it. She called Tina on her way to Quinn’s location which conveniently was just a fifteen minute walk up river from where she was. Tina’s was further away so with any luck Rachel would have dealt with the demon before Tina put herself in the danger zone. When Rachel reached the cave Quinn was standing outside it clearly waiting for her.

“Rachel,” Quinn smiled at her. She instinctively smiled back, still getting used to Quinn smiling at her before speaking.

“Okay so, Tina is on her way but I hope to have resolved this situation before she reaches here. I do not wish for her to be here in case we are too late and Mike is,” she trailed off and rather than pick up where she had left off she changed topics instead. “Wait here and I will go in and attempt to resolve this as quickly as possible.”

“You’re not going in there alone,” Quinn's tone was vehement as she fixed Rachel with a piercing look.

“We have no idea what to expect in there. It is not safe. I will go alone.”

“No.” 

She looked at Quinn and saw no sign of budgeing in her face but nevertheless she attempted it again “It is not safe. I am the Slayer I will go in,” She paused and for extra clarity added “by myself.” 

“No. I go on patrols with you and that’s not safe either but I still come. I’m coming with you Rachel.” 

Rachel looked at Quinn and then back out into the distance to see if she could see any sign of Tina approaching. She let out a defeated sigh and by the smile on Quinns face she knew she had won. 

Had probably known that she was going to win from the start.

“Fine, fine  but stay behind me.” She said reluctantly while she looked toward the entrance to the cave. 

She faced the cave. Its mouth yawned open, black and breathless, swallowing the last of the daylight. As she stepped into it, her shadow vanished almost immediately. The air was cold and wet, the ground slick beneath her boots.

She held out her hand behind her, fingers open. She didn’t have to wait long before Quinn's hand slid into hers, warm and steady.

“Just wait,” Rachel whispered. “We need to adjust to the dark.”

Quinn didn’t answer. Instead, her fingers squeezed Rachel’s for a brief second before falling still again.

Rachel stood motionless until the shapes around her began to sharpen. The dripping water echoed somewhere deep within the cave. When she felt her eyes had adjusted enough, she gave Quinn’s hand a slight tug and began to move forward.

Each step was measured and precise. Rachel kept her weight centered, her balance light, careful not to shift anything beneath her that might slip or break.

They moved deeper in silence, only the occasional crunch of gravel underfoot punctuating the dark. Then Rachel saw it—a faint orange glow flickering farther ahead. A light.

Quinn’s grip tightened.

Rachel gently moved them toward the edge of the tunnel, pressing them against the cold, damp stone of the wall. When they reached the cavern’s edge, she paused, pressed Quinn back slightly, and released her hand.

Stay here, she hoped Quinn understood.

She peeked around the edge.

The cavern was dimly lit by torches. In the center stood a low metal chest, rimmed in blood. The pool had spread wide beneath it, still fresh. Suspended against the far wall was Mike, bound and gagged, barely conscious but struggling faintly - alive, at least for now.

Her stomach twisted.

Near the chest stood the demon. It was smaller than she expected, hunched and wiry. Its skin was mottled and cracked, with a sickly blue sheen. It hovered over the chest, muttering low in a language Rachel didn’t recognize, its long fingers dipping into the blood at its feet.

Rachel leaned back from the mouth of the cavern, pressing her spine against the cold stone wall beside Quinn. Her breaths came fast and shallow, her pulse thundering in her ears, and for a moment she closed her eyes, trying to calm the rush of adrenaline. Quinn’s hand reached for hers again without hesitation, fingers wrapping firmly around her own. The touch was grounding.

Quinn gently tugged her closer and leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of Rachel’s ear. Her whisper was so soft that it barely stirred the air.

“Is everything okay?”

Rachel nodded instinctively, then realized Quinn couldn't see the motion in the darkness. She shifted closer and leaned in to murmur against Quinn’s ear in return.

“Yes. However, I am currently attempting to determine a method of attack.”

Quinn said nothing, only squeezed her hand again in quiet solidarity. Rachel felt the last of her panic start to dissolve, replaced with the sharp clarity of focus. Somehow, holding Quinn's hand had steadied her more effectively than any breathing exercise or meditation ever had.

She held on a second longer before drawing a deep breath and stepping forward into the cavern’s entrance.

“I am the Slayer,” she called out, her voice echoing off the stone walls, bold and unwavering, “and I demand that you release him this instant.”

The demon startled, jerking upright so quickly it knocked the lid of the blood-soaked chest shut with a metallic clang. Its head snapped toward her, revealing eyes as black as tar and a mouth full of jagged teeth. Mike, tied and gagged on the wall, let out a muffled sound that might have been her name.

“Slayer?” the demon rasped. Its voice grated like a rusted blade dragged over stone.

“I said release him. Now.” Rachel took another slow, deliberate step into the room. Her posture was rigid with purpose, every inch of her radiating command.

The demon flinched, retreating a pace, then steadied itself. Its gaze darkened.

“What are you going to do? Hmmmm? Make me?” Its voice still held the threat of violence, but there was something thin and brittle underneath. A tremor.

“Yes.” Rachel met its stare and didn’t blink. “Either you leave now and never return,” she said, her voice steady as steel, “or I will make certain you never return. Permanently.”

The demon didn’t answer. Instead, it snarled, raising a taloned hand from behind its side and turning toward Mike. Its intent was clear.

Mike whimpered involuntarily, eyes wide, his body straining against the ropes.

Rachel didn’t hesitate. Her fingers closed around the small pouch of salt in her pocket as she moved forward, quiet as a cat. The demon was too fixated on Mike to notice her drawing close, too confident. She tore the bag open just as she stepped within reach and flung its contents directly at the creature.

The effect was immediate.

The salt struck its skin and the demon let out a horrific, ear-splitting shriek. Its body jerked violently, and steam burst from its skin as it began to bubble and crack apart. It thrashed, reaching for her with clawed fingers, but its limbs were already disintegrating, melting into a thick, black sludge that hissed and frothed at her feet.

Rachel took a step back, breathing heavily.

Behind her, she heard footsteps approaching fast. She turned her head just enough to see Quinn entering the chamber, her eyes wide with awe and a touch of disbelief. The demon let out one final gurgling hiss before collapsing into a puddle of slime and silence.

“Demons are weird,” Quinn muttered, her voice breaking the tension like a blade through fabric.

Rachel looked over, catching the smirk on Quinn’s face. She couldn't help herself - she smiled too.

“So I am discovering,” she replied softly.

Mike let out a muffled groan, wriggling against his restraints. Rachel stepped forward, careful not to step in the remnants of the demon, and made her way to where he hung on the wall.

Her Slayer strength made the task easier than it should have been. She lifted him effortlessly, catching his weight and lowering him to the ground before beginning to untie his wrists. A quiet sound drew her attention - Quinn clearing her throat, maybe, or something else - but when Rachel glanced over her shoulder, Quinn’s face was pink and unreadable. She didn’t comment.

As she crouched to untie Mike’s legs, he yanked the gag from his mouth, coughing lightly. “Um... guys? What was that?” He looked up at her, eyes round. “Rachel?”

Rachel rose, brushing her hands off on her jeans. “That,” she said matter-of-factly, “was a demon.”

Quinn let out a soft laugh behind her. “You always do that.”

Rachel turned, brow furrowing. “Do what?”

“Your supernatural explanations,” Quinn replied, crossing her arms and giving her a look that was half exasperated and half fond. “They leave a little to be desired.”

Rachel’s mouth opened, then closed. She huffed. “Well, I would like to see you try. Actually, next time you can explain it. We will see if you do any better.”

“Next time?” Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quirking into a smile.

Rachel didn’t get a chance to respond.

Mike cleared his throat, shifting their attention back to him. “Okay, but seriously... what’s going on?”

Rachel glanced around the room. The torchlight flickered across the blood-stained stone, the metal chest still resting ominously in the middle of the floor. The air was thick and stale, and the coppery scent of blood clung to everything.

She turned back to Mike. “I promise I will explain everything,” she said gently. “But let’s get out of this cave first. It smells like death in here, and I’d rather not develop a trauma-induced aversion to breathing.”

Mike blinked at her, then nodded. “Yeah... okay. Yeah.”

He took a cautious step forward, and Rachel followed close behind. She felt Quinn’s hand find hers again, threading their fingers together without a word. Rachel’s heart gave a quiet, startled flutter, but she didn’t pull away.

She squeezed Quinn’s hand and held tight.

When they emerged into the daylight and fresh air, the relief was immediate. The sky was a clear blue and the river was  murmuring softly nearby.

A shout broke the quiet.

“Mike!”

Tina came sprinting toward them from the treeline, her face pale and eyes wide. As soon as she spotted him upright and walking, her shoulders dropped with visible relief. She launched herself into his arms.

Mike caught her, holding her tightly as if anchoring himself to her.

“Tina,” he whispered, burying his face in her hair.

Rachel couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “I did not know that Tina and Mike were so close?” She said to Quinn while observing their reunion.

“They were at the same camp over the summer. They became friends at it. Mercedes thinks that’s why Artie broke up with her. That he was jealous.” 

That made sense to her. That, that was why Artie would break up with Tina, not the irrational jealousy. Artie always seemed irrational to Rachel though. She had heard the way he reacted to Tina’s stutter as well as the way that he had then attempted to reinstate their relationship. So him breaking up with Tina over irrational jealousy fit with his personality. But she was upset on Tina’s behalf knowing that the girl would never cheat.

“That doesn’t make any sense. In fact it’s stupid” 

Quinn let out a soft laugh but didn’t say anything else. 

When Mike and Tina separated Tina spoke with a soft reverence, “You're safe,” as her eyes scanned all over Mike’s body and face as if to verify that very fact. 

Mike smiled at her “yeah.” He looked over at Rachel and the shock was evident in his voice as he said “Rachel saved me.” 

“Rachels good at that. Saving people,” Quinn smiled softly at Rachel as she spoke before turning to look at Mike. “Are you okay?” 

Mike was rubbing his left hand over his right wrist which was red from the rope the demon had tied him up with.

“I’m okay. I’m very confused though,” his repetitive rubbing of the wrist continued while he spoke. 

Rachel observed how Tina was standing touching distance from Mike as if afraid he might suddenly disappear. 

“Tina.”

“Yeah?”

“How about you walk Mike home and explain everything to him?”

“Everything?” 

Ms Holliday was going to be so angry at her again. Mike was a good guy though and he deserved an explanation. She gave Tina a nod to confirm that when she had said everything she had infact meant everything.Tina nodded and put her arm gently on Mike's back and they started walking away. Rachel observed them for a second before turning back to Quinn. 

“I should inform Ms Holliday that we have dealt with the demon situation and that there is no need for her to continue her research.”

Quinn nodded and was silent for a minute before she spoke once more “Are you still patrolling tonight?”

“I am. No rest for the Slayer,” she let out a soft laugh and smiled at Quinn.

“I’ll see you tonight then,” Quinn turned and walked away up the river in the opposite direction to Rachel’s house and Rachel reigened in the impulse she had to call out to Quinn and suggest that she could just come back to Rachels until they left to patrol. Instead she simply sighed and walked home.

Quinns knock on her door came promptly at eight pm like every other night that week and Rachel was ready for it. So when she opened the door it was to step out and shut it behind her ready to patrol. Quinn looked surprised for a second before her face evened out again. 

She didn’t say anything before turning and starting to walk the familiar path to the graveyard. 

They walked some of the way in comfortable silence before Quinn started speaking.

“That was really impressive today how you dealt with that demon.” 

“Not really, he was not that hard to beat.”

“No Rachel, I’m serious, that was really impressive. I’ve seen you,” Quinn made the stabbing gesture with her hand holding her stake “vampires but this was something else.” A blush crept up Rachels face and she was thankful for the darkness so that Quinn didn’t see the result of her compliment. “How did you do it?”

“I have started to think of the Slayer as a role so when I step out to face a demon or a vampire I am not Broadway bound diva Rachel Berry but instead I put on the role of Slayer. It is easier like that. It’s not me facing those demons or vampires it’s my character The Slayer”

“It is you though?” Quinn sounded oddly concerned..

“I know, I do. I am not suffering from dissociation. However, thinking of it as a role gives me the confidence to step out there and face them. I have the skills or at least Ms Holliday is attempting to give me the skills and so I am basically just stepping out onto the stage and performing.”  

Quinn hummed in response and reached out to lift up the entrance to the graveyard to allow Rachel to enter before following. 

They made soft casual conversation as they walked through the graveyard occasionally interrupted by Rachel needing to kill a vampire. They made it through graveyard number one unscafed but halfway through gaveyard number two Rachel saw a large looking vampire wearing a pitch black suit in the distance attacking a girl who was most likely a late night mourner. 

“Stay here.”

“Really Rachel again? You really think that’s going to work?” She heard Quinn say from behind her as she started jogging toward the vampire staying out of his line of sight.

“Just stay out of my way please,”  She threw over her shoulder at Quinn before slowing down and silencing her approach as she reached what would be the vampire's hearing zone. 

When she was a meter away from the vampire she shouted out to get his attention.  “Hey leave her alone.” 

The vampire loosened his grip on the woman and turned to face her. Blood was dripping down his face from his lips and his face was contorted into its vampire form, with eyes blazing yellow and elongated fangs. He took her in, and a smirk went across his supernatural, menacing face.

“Slayer,” the vampire released his grip on the woman completely, and she seized the opportunity to flee, disappearing into the shadows of the graveyard. The vampire shifted his focus solely on to Rachel. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

He cast another appraising glance her way, and the calculating glint in his yellow eyes sent a shiver down Rachel's spine. Desperately, she hoped that Quinn was listening to her for once and remaining concealed in the safety of the shadows.

“Well you are a vampire and I am as you put it the slayer so where else would I be?” Rachel spoke confidently, taking care to not reveal her fear.

“Dead,” A low, guttural growl emanated from the vampire's lips, revealing elongated fangs that glistened with the fresh blood. 

His face twisted into a sinister grin and then he pounced. 

She moved to the side dodging his attack and used her right hand to attempt to stake him. He moved to the side leaving her stake to barely graze him. 

He used the same moment to swing his fist at her. 

Impact. 

It struck her straight in the face and stars dashed across her vision as she struggled to centre herself only to be overwhelmed by the vampire's attacks. 

His attacks were relentless and yet Rachel had the feeling he was holding back. 

He swung another one of his fists at Rachel’s face again and this time she couldn’t keep her balance and fell onto the ground. She thought she heard a gasp from the direction she had left Quinn in but the ringing in her head was overwhelming and she struggled to make out the words the vampire was speaking at her.

“Here’s a message from Mistress: You're only alive right now because we are letting you,” the vampire's foot came at her once he had finished speaking and kicked her in the head. 

Pain. 

And then she mercifully blacked out.

“Rachel. Rachel, oh no. Rachel, wake up.” 

She started to become more aware of her surroundings and tuned in on Quinn’s increasingly desperate voice. She opened one eye and found herself grimacing from the pain shutting it again quickly.

“I have been defeated. Let me revel in misery some more and sleep.''

It hurt to talk but she loved to talk. She was okay with being in pain if it meant she could do something she loved plus she was sure those slaying healing powers would kick in soon. 

“Rachel!” she felt Quinn hugging her and experienced a sharp stabbing pain and let out a pained groan. “Did that hurt?” 

She opened one eye again, flinching at the pain but focusing on Quinn’s concerned face.

“I will be okay. Powers remember,” she shut her eyes again, sighing at the brief respite of pain. 

Quinn’s desperate pleas continued though so she forced herself to open her eyes again. This time doing so was pain free as her healing powers had started to kick in. She started moving herself painfully and accompanied by groans in the direction of a grave. 

Quinns hands fluttered uselessly around her as she spoke. “Rach, I don’t think you should move.” 

She didn’t have the energy to respond as she was focused on moving but when she finally reached the grave she forced herself up into a sitting position and leaned back against the grave for support.

“It is okay Quinn. I am quite alright or at least I will be.” Quinn sat down on the ground next to Rachel and put her arm over Rachels shoulders. Rachel turned her head slightly to examine Quinn and forced herself to speak through the pain. “He left you alone?”

“He either didn’t see me or didn’t care. He left as soon as you were unconscious.” 

Rachel nodded in response. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. The only movement was Quinn’s hand on Rachel’s arm from where it sat on her shoulders. A slow rubbing sensation as Quinn attempted to provide comfort as Rachel breathed through the pain. Once the pain had subsided to a more manageable level Rachel spoke again. Leaning forward from the grave so she could look at Quinn as she spoke.

“Remind me to tell Ms Holliday she was wrong.”

“About?”

“She said this Mistress thing was nothing. She was wrong.” 

She leaned back against the grave as she waited to build her strength up. As the last dregs of her pain subsided leaving her with aches and pains that she knew would be gone by morning she stood up and held out a hand to help Quinn up. Quinn didn’t take it and instead stood up by herself. 

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight Berry,” Quinn sounded indignant at the very thought and Rachel didn't have the energy to put up a fight.

“You can stay in my guest room then,” Rachel said and Quinn nodded before following Rachel out of the graveyard.

Chapter Text

Wednesday after Glee, Rachel found herself navigating the mostly empty school hallway, her destination was the library, a sanctuary where she could bury herself in books and attempt to salvage the remnants of her neglected studies. The presence of her dads at home for the first time in a while made the prospect of study time away from them particularly appealing.

Tina caught up to her halfway to the library.

“Rachel, wait up,” Tina's voice, tinged with a mix of curiosity and genuine interest, prompted Rachel to pause. 

Once Tina reached her, Rachel resumed her brisk walk.

“Where are you going?”

“I am on my way to the library to attempt to use the remaining hours of the school being open to catch up on some studying that I foolishly allowed to fall to the wayside with recent events.”

“Can I join you?” 

Tina's request hung in the air, and Rachel, although not verbally responding, nodded in agreement. Together, they continued their journey toward the library, the muted sounds of their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

Rachel settled into one of the library tables with a palpable sigh of relief. Glee had been brutal. Sanatna had been particularly interested in insulting Rachel. It was as if she was trying to provoke a storm out and not even Quinns attempts to stop her did anything. Tina sat down at the table next to her and Rachel turned to her and asked her softly.

“Is it just me, or is Santana getting meaner lately?” Rachel's voice carried a hint of vulnerability, her eyes revealing the hurt beneath the surface.

“No, it’s not just you.” Tina offered a sympathetic shrug before continuing, “Though she does seem particularly fixated on you.”

That was true just the other day Santana tried to stop Rachel from performing her solo by flushing her sheet music down the toilet in the girls bathroom and not even Quinn’s assurance that it was about her and not about Rachel did anything to help. 

Rachel pulled her books out of her bag and dropped them on the worn table, the dim light in the library casting a soft glow on the pages. Tina settled in across from her, and together, they dived into their studies, the hush of turning pages and whispered discussions filling the otherwise quiet library.

An hour slipped by in this companionable silence, only disrupted by Tina's gentle reminders when Rachel unknowingly hummed along to her music. Tina eventually had to leave, leaving Rachel alone in the dimly lit library. She continued to study for another hour or two, surrounded by the faint scent of old books.

When Rachel finally decided to call it a night, she gathered her belongings and stepped out into the deserted school hallway. The dim, flickering lights above cast elongated shadows on the lockers and lockers. The emptiness of the corridor felt eerie, with only the distant hum of the building's systems and Rachel's soft footsteps echoing through the emptiness.

As she walked down the shadowy hallway towards her locker, the distant murmur of voices reached her ears. The argument seemed to float through the air, creating a sense of tension in the deserted corridor. 

The voices sounded vaguely familiar in the sense that they were voices that she knew but she wouldn’t say they were close enough that she could regonise their owners.

“Come back here! We're not finished!” The hallway reverberated with the shout, the echoes amplifying the tension that hung in the air. Silence followed, a brief pause pregnant with unspoken turmoil, before the voice resumed its desperate plea. “You don't care anymore, is that it?”

Rachel heard the sound of sobbing before another voice responded, weighted with resignation. “No, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter what I feel.”

“Then tell me you don't love me.” The demand sliced through the air, the anger palpable and Rachel heard some whimpering from the other person. “Say it!” 

Rachel started to walk in the direction of the voices to see who they were.

“Will that help? Is that what you need to hear? I don't. I don't! Now let me go.” 

The plea, desperate and filled with fear, triggered Rachel into action. While in the past she may have been powerless to intervene now she could make a difference and that voice sounded scared.

“No! A person doesn't just wake up one day and stop loving somebody.” 

The proclamation echoed off the walls, and Rachel gasped as she rounded the corner to find two senior Cheerios, Paige and Liz, locked in a volatile confrontation. Paige's grip on Liz's arm released, but the atmosphere thickened as Paige raised a revolver, pulled the hammer back, and pointed it at Liz. 

“Love is forever.”

Fear gripped Rachel, but she refused to be a passive observer. “Hey!” Her voice, filled with urgency, cut through the charged atmosphere, an attempt to divert their attention. 

However, neither Paige nor Liz spared her a glance.

“I'm not afraid to use it. I swear! If I can't be with you…” Paige's threat hung in the air, the tension thickening as she kept the gun steady, her emotions volatile and raw.

“Oh my god.” Liz, exasperated and overwhelmed, tossed her arms in the air before turning away, retreating from the escalating situation. 

Rachel surveyed the scene, her mind racing to assess her limited options.

“Don’t walk away from me, bitch!” Paige's desperate shout echoed through the hallway, a tremor of uncertainty in her voice hinting at the rapidly escalating crisis. 

Rachel didn't hesitate. Seeing an opening, she sprinted toward Paige, her shoulder colliding with the Cheerio. The impact sent them both sprawling to the ground, and Rachel swiftly reached for the hand holding the gun, knocking it loose. The weapon clattered across the floor, a short distance away.

As Paige struggled to make sense of the sudden turn of events, Rachel scrambled to her feet, keeping a vigilant eye on the discarded gun. Coach Sylvester came barreling around the corner, her stern expression registering the severity of the situation. Rachel's attention momentarily shifted from the weapon to the approaching coach.

In the midst of the chaos, Liz hadn't ventured far down the hallway. Instead, she stood trembling next to some lockers, mirroring Paige's confusion.

“What’s going on here, Streisand?” Coach Sylvester's booming voice cut through the lingering tension, demanding an explanation.

“I was on my way from the library after getting a mediocre level of study. Which, while mediocre, still supersedes what the rest of my classmates would have attempted - ”

“-The point.” Coach Sylvester interjects interrupting Rachel and forcing her to recalibrate what she wanted to say.

“I heard Paige and Liz here having a fight, and when I came to look, Paige pulled out a gun.” Rachel said. 

A shortened version of what she had started to say earlier. 

Coach Sylvester's eyes darted around the hallway, searching for any sign of a weapon “I don’t see any gun, Broadway.”

“I knocked it out of Paige’s hand, and it went - ” Rachel turned her head to look, her eyes widening as she found no trace of the gun. Her frantic gaze mirrored Coach Sylvester's earlier search, but the weapon seemed to have vanished. “I do not understand.”

“Paige and Liz here were just finishing up a character-building exercise with one Sue Sylvester. They wouldn’t have the energy to walk, much less fight like you were describing.”

“We were fighting,” Liz spoke from where she stood by the lockers. “But I don’t remember why. One minute we were walking, and then the next- ” She gestured vaguely, her memory hazy. 

Coach Sylvester nodded, contemplating the perplexing situation. “Since there is no gun, I propose we leave this situation to ourselves and mark it down as just one of Lima’s day-to-day unexplained occurrences.” 

Coach Sylvester looked around at Paige, who nodded, and then at Liz, who did the same. When her gaze fell on Rachel, she hesitated before nodding.

Internally, Rachel decided to conduct her own investigation. Suspicion lingered in her eyes as she processed the strange turn of events. Satisfied with their responses, Coach Sylvester turned and left the way she came. Rachel followed shortly after, sparing one last, wary glance around the hallway for the missing gun. When she came up empty again, she left to go home, determined to perform some research before her upcoming patrol.

When Quinn arrived at Rachel’s house in time for them to patrol Rachel was sitting outside on the porch waiting for her. Rachel was busy browsing the internet on the reliable supernatural websites for results on disappearing guns. So far she was coming up empty. When Quinn arrived she tucked her laptop under the outside bench cushion rather than going back inside and putting it away.

“Hey” Quinn smiled at her as she went up the two steps to get to the porch. “Why are you outside?” 

“I just wanted to get some fresh air.” She stood up and walked over to Quinn. Rachel swung her arm out in the direction of the street. “Shall we?” 

Quinn let out a small giggle and nodded. Rachel felt a small blush creep across her face at the sound.

The night wrapped around them like a blanket as Rachel and Quinn stepped off the porch into the quiet darkness. The moon hung in the sky, casting shadows across the silent streets. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and the distant hum of the city seemed muted in the stillness of the late hour.

The graveyard, with its hushed ambiance, beckoned in the distance. Rachel led the way, her senses heightened in the dark. The soft crunch of gravel underfoot accompanied their footsteps as they approached the entrance. The iron gate creaked open, allowing them entry into graveyard number two.

The air within the graveyard held a certain chill, but it wasn't solely the temperature that sent shivers down Rachel's spine. The moonlight bathed the tombstones in an eerie glow, casting shadows that seemed to dance with the whispers of the night. No amount of patrols could make Rachel feel at complete ease in Lima’s graveyards.

Quinn walked beside her, the soft rustle of her sweater blending with the ambient sounds of the graveyard. The gravestones stood like silent sentinels, each one a marker of a life once lived. 

Rachel's mind, however, was preoccupied. She had hoped the patrol would provide a distraction from the earlier events but she couldn’t stop thoughts from lingering on the fight between Paige and Liz and the gun that had vanished into thin air. As they reached a quiet spot, Rachel turned to Quinn. Quinn came to a stop next to her.

“You okay?” Quinn asked softly. “You’ve been really quiet”

“Something happened,” Rachel started before proceeding to slowly fill Quinn in on the earlier events.

As she spoke, the moonlight cast shifting shadows on their faces, emphasising the gravity of the situation.

Quinn's expression shifted from curiosity to a furrowed brow. "That's bizarre. Do you think it's related to the ‘mistress’?

Rachel sighed. "I have no idea, Quinn. It just feels... off. I thought maybe the patrol would help me clear my head, but it is like that missing gun is haunting me."

Quinn placed a comforting hand on Rachel's shoulder. "We'll figure it out.” 

The certainty in Quinns voice calmed the lingering unease that Rachel felt and she allowed a breath of air to escape, releasing the tension.

“You are right,” Rachel said, nodding “we will figure it out. We always do.” 

They continued the patrol in a comforting silence before they reached a clearing amidst the tombstones, a serene space where the moon's glow was unobstructed. Rachel glanced at Quinn, a silent agreement passing between them. It was time to part ways for the night.

"Take care, Rachel," Quinn said, her voice soft against the stillness of the graveyard.

"You too, Quinn." Rachel offered a small smile, a blend of gratitude and something deeper. Quinn nodded, and with a final glance, they separated, disappearing into the shadows of the night.

Rachel retraced her steps, leaving the graveyard behind and returned home. 

Rachel climbed into her bed and got under her comforter, feeling the warmth enveloping her as she settled into her bed. The ambient sounds of the night lulled her into a peaceful slumber.

She’s in the choir room in McKinley. It has a different layout than the one she spends her days in but it’s undoubtedly the choir room. She can hear the sounds of students walking through the corridors but here in the choir room, it is quiet except for two girls sitting on the chairs at the back of the classroom whispering softly. One of those girls is dressed in the old cheerio uniforms from the days before Sue Sylvester that she had only seen in photographs in old yearbooks. The other is dressed casually in jeans and a shirt for a science camp.

In the dream, the atmosphere was thick with a sense of nostalgia. The distant echoes of students in the hallways created a distant backdrop to the intimate scene unfolding in the choir room. The lighting seems softer, casting a warm glow on everything it touches.

“The Sadie Hawkins dance is this Saturday. I was thinking maybe…” The science girl trailed off, her eyes filled with hope as she looked at the cheerio. The cheerio, a vision from the past, let out a soft sigh.

“Sarah, you know we can’t.”

“I know. I just thought that maybe, maybe this time we could. We can say I don’t care and walk into that dance hand in hand. Say we are in love and we don’t care what you think.”

“I wish we could.” The cheerio sighed again, her hand reaching out to gently cup Sarah’s cheek. “But the world isn’t ready for a love like ours yet.”

Rachel woke up to the blaring of her alarm and shook her head. That was one specific dream. She had gotten used to specific dreams since becoming the Slayer, but they tended to be more ‘you are going to die!’ dreams and less of whatever that had been. 

The residual emotions of longing and unfulfilled desires clung to her for a moment before dissipating into the morning air. Rachel rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream that felt like a bittersweet memory.

With a deep breath, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, letting the dream slip away like morning mist. The routine of the day beckoned, and Rachel embraced it, pushing the dream to the recesses of her mind as she faced the challenges of the waking world.

When she arrived at school she started heading to Ms Holliday’s office. Ms Holliday had postponed training that morning as she was following up on some leads regarding the mysterious “Mistress.’ 

As Rachel walked down the hallway, Tina intercepted her.  “Hey Rach, do you want to study together again after Glee?” 

“Um, maybe. I do apologize but I was on my way to go speak to Ms Holliday about,” she paused and thought better of telling Tina about the occurrences of yesterday. “Something” she finished lamely.

“Something supernatural? I’ll come with you.”

“No I should go alone,” Tina didn’t respond to Rachel however and instead just smiled at Quinn who was walking over to them.

“Where are you going?” Quinn asked, falling into step with them.

“We are going to Ms Hollidays wanna come?” Tina said and ignored Rachels splutter of indignation at the words.

“Sure.” 

Quinn ignored the indignant squeak Rachel let out. Eventually Rachel let out a sigh as she accepted that they would accompany her. 

These last couple of weeks they both had seemed persistent in becoming her friend and while she tried to keep their friendship and the Slayer duties apart Quinn had already broken that barrier by accompanying her on patrols and it didn’t seem like Tina was going to allow her to keep their friendship separate from being the slayer either so she might as well accept that they would be intertwined. 

As they walked past Santana and Brittany, Santana shot Rachel and Tina a glare, but no words were exchanged. Rachel felt Santana’s eyes on them until they entered Ms. Holliday’s office.

“Hey, girls,” Ms. Holliday greeted them, crouched on the ground as she searched through the bottom shelf of her bookshelf. Standing up and dusting off her pants, she asked, “What’s up?”

Tina and Quinn both turned to Rachel, awaiting an explanation. Rachel began recounting the events of the previous day, Tina gasping in surprise at various points. Quinn, having heard the story before, stayed silent until Rachel finished.

“That explains their behavior during practice this morning,” Quinn added.

“How so?”

“They just seemed shaken. Normally, they're attached to each other like glue, much like Santana and Brittany, minus the whole extra special friendship part. But today, they barely spoke.” When Quinn finished speaking she ran her hand through her hair and looked back at Rachel as if expecting her to speak some more. 

Rachel was just about to do exactly that when Ms Holliday spoke again from her spot by the bookshelves.

“Interesting, well,” she glanced at the clock on her office wall, “we don’t have time to get into research mode right now as I have a class to teach in five minutes as do you three. So how about we talk at my house this afternoon instead?” 

Rachel nodded and started to walk toward the door when she noticed that Quinn and Tina weren’t immediately following. 

She looked over her shoulder. When she did that they started walking toward the door as well. 

Once they were in the hallway Tina leaned slightly over to her. “You know where Ms Holliday lives?”

“I do my training there every morning?” 

Tina let out a soft “oh” and that seemed to be that as Rachel and Quinn walked into their class and Tina left to go to hers.

Rachel and Quinn were the first ones to arrive for Glee that afternoon as they had walked directly to Glee after their class had finished. Quinn sat down in the chair next to Rachel as she had started to do occasionally when she didn’t sit at the back with Santana and Brittany. 

“Hey Rachel,” Tina said, sitting down on the chair next to Rachel. Once Rachel looked over at her she continued, “what’s Ms Hollidays address?” 

Rachel gave it to her but the rest of the New Directions started arriving before the conversation could progress any further. They got less curious looks than previous times as their fellow team members had started to realise that Quinn and Rachel’s friendship along with Tina’s was genuine. 

That didn’t mean that they accepted it. 

Rachel could hear the muffled conversations between them about what had prompted their sudden friendships. The most common theory was that somehow Rachel was blackmailing them into friendships as that was the only reason they could see why anyone would associate with her.  Mr Shue walked into the choir room late as usual and started speaking once everyone quieted down after he greeted them.

“So as I said on Monday the theme for this week is,'' Mr Shue walked over to the white board while speaking “One hit wonders.” 

He turned back from the white board to face them and Mercedes let out a laugh while Santana snorted. Instead of the theme. Mr Shue had written ‘ DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME BITCH ’ in capital letters across the entire white board. 

“Mr Shue,” Finn said hesitantly from where he sat. 

That combined with the rest of the group's reaction seemed to be enough to make Mr Shue turn around and see what he had written. 

When he did, he immediately started wiping it off while apologizing. Rachel turned to see Quinn looking at her. Once Quinn saw Rachel looking back, she raised an eyebrow and glanced at the whiteboard, then back at Rachel. Rachel couldn’t wait to go to Ms. Holliday’s after school. 

She needed answers. 

When Glee finished, Quinn and Rachel walked outside together and into the hallway.

The hallway was filled with after-school stragglers who had stayed behind for clubs or were just spending more time with friends before heading home. A gust of wind swept down the hallway with a roar, slamming locker doors shut in its wake. Some of the students yelped as they moved their hands away from the slamming doors. Those who did not get their hands out of the way in time cried out in pain. Just as quickly as the gust of wind had come, it disappeared. It didn't even go down the full length of the hallway before vanishing. Rachel noticed Quinn looking over at her before raising an eyebrow.

They exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging the unusual occurrence. The wind had been powerful and abrupt, far from the ordinary drafts in the school corridors. It left Rachel with a sense of unease, as if the natural order of things had momentarily slipped.

"Did you feel that?" Quinn asked, her voice barely audible over the chatter of students.

Rachel nodded, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "It was strange, was it not?"

Quinn shrugged, her gaze lingering on Rachel. "Very."

As they continued walking down the hallway, Rachel's thoughts raced. The wind, the strange occurrences – it all seemed connected. The pieces of the puzzle were scattered, waiting for someone to put them together. Ms. Holliday's held the promise of answers, and Rachel couldn't shake the feeling that something big was on the horizon.

When Rachel and Quinn arrived at Ms Holliday’s they didn’t have time to knock before Tina and Mike showed up.

“Mike?” Rachel exclaimed, head swinging between them.

"I told him what was happening, and he wanted to come," Tina smiled at her, and Mike just shrugged his shoulders before giving her a soft smile. 

Rachel let out a soft sigh. What was one more? She had somehow gone from having no friends to having two friends since becoming the Slayer. The subtle comfort of companionship was slowly growing on her, and she couldn’t deny how nice having friends felt. While she couldn’t be sure that Mike’s presence here meant they would become friends too, she didn’t want to send him away in case that was what his presence meant.

Of all the boys in Glee Club, Mike, while silent, stood out as one of the nicest. He was the only member of Glee who had never insulted her. He had stood idly by, but Rachel would be hard-pressed to find anyone in the school who hadn’t witnessed her being bullied and done nothing. She reached out and rang the doorbell. She stepped off the doormat in preperation for potentailly having to grab the spare key. However, the door swung open within seconds, revealing Ms. Holliday on the other side. The corners of her mouth lifted into a smirk as her gaze lingered on Mike.

"Mike Chang! The mystery man of Glee Club. What brings you here?" 

"I wanted to help," Mike replied with a shrug.

Ms. Holliday let out a soft laugh, “Rachel isn’t one for following insturctions is she?'' 

Ms Holliday stood aside and allowed them to enter. As they entered, Rachel noticed the cozy atmosphere of Ms. Holliday's home. The walls adorned with art, the aroma of brewing coffee, and the soft jazz playing in the background all created a comforting environment. 

“No she isn’t” Quinn said before looking over at Rachel and giving her a surprisingly affectionate smile. 

Ms. Holliday led them to the living room, where they settled on the couch and chairs. 

“Anything new?” Ms Holliday asked once they were seated.

 Surprisingly Mike was the one who spoke first. “There was this big gust of wind that blew through the school and slammed all the lockers shut. It was wicked,” he seemed to notice everyone’s eyes on him and he sank back in his chair “It was.” 

He quieted down and Tina smiled at him before Rachel spoke.

“That unexpected gust of wind occurred right after Mr Shue seemed to be influenced by the same supernatural element that influenced yesterday’s events as he wrote ‘don’t walk away from me bitch’ on the whiteboard. Which is the exact same thing that Paige said yesterday as she was pointing the gun at Liz.”  

Ms Holliday clapped her hands from where she was sitting on the coffee table. “Ooh! Sounds like paranormal phenomena.” Ms Holliday looked around and seeing Tina and Mike’s blank faces she spoke again. “A ghost. Which is pretty cool. I’ve heard about ghost’s but I've never actually encountered them.”

“Ghosts are real?” Quinn said softly under her breath from where she sat next to Rachel. 

Before Rachel could turn and ask her why the ghost part was tripping her up Mike spoke again.

“This was no friendly casper though. This was I’m dead as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore” 

Ms Holliday smilled at him. “I like you. That is exactly what it is'' 

“Well why is it here? Does it just want to scare people?” Rachel asked.

That didn’t sit right with Rachel. All her condolences regarding being dead but that was no excuse. At least vampires didn't have a soul anymore but according to her research on the supernatural interwebs poltergeists did still have their souls. 

Ms Holliday stood up from where she was sitting on the coffee table and started pacing. Rachel had noticed that she liked doing that. That and drawing unique diagrams on a chalkboard.

“Unfortunately, it doesn't know exactly what it wants. That's, that's the trouble. See, uh, many times the spirit is plagued by all manner of worldly troubles. Being dead, it has no way to, uh, to make its peace. So it lashes out, growing ever more confused, ever more angry.” Ms Holliday clapped her hands together “so figuring this out should be fun.”

“How can I stop it?” Rachel asked.

“The only known way is to find out what unresolved issues are keeping it here and then well resolve them.” Ms Holliday shrugged, “so you're going to have to tap into that big heart of yours and use that to help it.” 

From her spot on the couch Quinn spoke agan. “We have to figure out who it is or well was first though.”

“That is correct.” Ms Holliday replied. 

The atmosphere shifted, and the group began their collective research. Books were opened, laptops were fired up, and the glow of the computer screens illuminated their focused expressions. The room buzzed with quiet discussions, occasional laughter, and the sound of keys tapping on keyboards.

Time blurred as they delved into the realms of the supernatural, combing through online resources, ancient texts, and personal accounts.

The day transitioned into night, and the room gradually dimmed, casting shadows across the walls. The soft hum of the fluorescent lights replaced the fading sunlight. 

Eventually, as darkness settled outside, Rachel rose from the couch and declared, "We will continue our pursuit tomorrow." 

The group gathered their belongings, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow of the fluorescent light before heading out into the night. 

Rachel arrived at McKinley early the next morning. She wanted to do some snooping around the area where the incident involving Paige and Liz had occured before the school got busy again. She had informed Ms Holliday of this fact and she had been granted permission to skip that morning's training and make it up over the weekend. She could get away with missing one weekend of dance lessons right? Her plans were faughted when upon arriving near the corridor she heard echoes of the same fight as last time although with new voices. 

“You can't make me disappear just because you say it's over.”

“There’s no way we can be together. No way people will ever understand. Accept it”

“Is that what this is about? What other people think?”

“No! I just want you to be able to have some kind of normal life. We can never have that. Don’t you see?”

“I don’t give a damn about a normal life! I’m going crazy not seeing you. I think about you every minute.”

“I know. But it’s over. It has to be.”

“Come back here! We’re not finished yet!” There was silence for a second. “You don’t care anymore? Is that it?” 

Rachel could hear words and she knew they were the same as Wednesday afternoons fight between Paige and Liz except this time she had heard more from the lead up to the fight. She started running towards the voice to locate where they were coming from.

“It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter what I feel.”

“Then tell me you don’t love me. Say it!” The voice went up in anger. 

In contrast the reply was soft, “will that help?  Is that what you have to hear? I don’t. I don’t. Now let me go”

“No, a person doesn’t just wake up one day and stop loving somebody. Love is forever” That was around the point that the gun had shown up last time. Rachel increased her running trying to get there faster. “I’m not afraid to use it. I swear. If I can’t be with you…”

“Oh, my god.”

“Don’t walk away from me bitch!” 

Rachel rounds the corner to the corrdior and finds it empty. She looks around frantically and notices them outside on the balcony. 

Mrs Henderson, the substitue teacher, is pointing a gun at Ms Blethliam and yelling. “Don’t do that, damn it! Don’t talk to me like I’m some dumb…” The hand holding the gun goes up as if to swipe at her forehead but the movement is enought to make the gun go off. 

Rachels runs closer but it’s too late and Ms Blethiem falls backwards and tumbles over the balcony. Mrs Henderson looks over the balcony and seemingly panics and attempts to run into the hallway. Rachel steps in front of her before she reaches the hallway. When she tries to move past Rachel grabs her and pushes her to the ground taking care not to use too much force. When Mrs Henderson hits the ground the gun jerks out of her hand and slides away. As it does, it dissolves and disappears with a whiff of black vapour. 

That explained what happened with the gun last time then. 

At lunch time, when Rachel had finally finished explaining what had happened to everyone. Police, teachers and Mr Figgins she walked to the choir room to meet with Quinn. She had texted Quinn what had happened in between interrogations. Surprisingly Mr Figgins hadn’t canceled school even though a teacher had been murdered at the school right before classes started. Although she supposed if classes were canceled everytime something upsetting happened school would never be open. When she arrived at the choir room she didn’t just find Quinn waiting for her but also Tina and Mike. 

“Are you okay?” Quinn was the first one to speak. 

Rachel nodded and headed over to where they were all sitting. When she reached her seat she sat down with a sigh. Quinn reached out and put her hand on Rachel’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze before moving her hand back to her lap. 

“What happened?” Quinn asked.

“Mrs Henderson you know the substitute - with a very loose understanding on what is a reputable source and what is just gossip - we had for AP History? She shot Ms Bleithiam in an eerily similar fight between Paige and Liz. It is as if the ghost is reenacting the same event over and over again” 

Quinn reached into her bag that was sitting on the chair next to her and pulled out her laptop. “If it’s renacting the event for a reason it would be usefull to do a cross check and see if there have been any other shootings at McKinley.” Quinn trailed off while typing on her laptop before looking up “I found something.” She spins her laptop around to face them. 

Tina and Mike move closer to look as well. On Quinns laptop is an old Lima newspaper with a headline reading ‘ McKinley High lesbian lovers murder suicide ’ Rachel leans forward and reads the article. Quinn spoke to Tina and Mike while Rachel read.

“A student shot a cheerio on the night of the Sadie Hawkins dance and then went into the choir room and shot herself. They found out that they had been dating for months before hand-”

“Wait” Rachel interuppted Quinn while she was talking as the picture attached to the article caught her attention “I dreamed about them.” She points at the picture. She gestures to one of the girls “her name is Sarah right?” Quinn nodded. “I dreamed she asked that girl,” she points to the other girl, “to the Sadie Hawkins dance and got turned down.” 

She scans back over the article to see if she could see the name of the other girl, the one who had been shot. 

Phoebe. 

“Pretty acurate dreams you are having. Is that usual?” Tina spoke from where she was leaning over Rachels shoulder reading the article.

“For Slayers apparently. This is a first for me though. Usually my dreams are all about…” She trailed off for a second considering the intelligence in informing everyone of the contents of her dreams. “Broadway. Normally my dreams are about Broadway.” She says firmer as she makes up her mind. 

Quinn looks at her curiously but doesn’t prob anymore. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a ghost.” When they looked over at Mike from where he had chimed in he shrugged, “it’s one of those two right?” he pointed at the picture.

“It does fit the chain of events. With the gun, my dream and the Sadie Hawkins dance. That is on Saturday, correct?” 

Tina nodded. Quinn shut her laptop and placed it back in her bag. Once she does that she looks at Rachel.

“So which one is it?” Quinn asked.

“Considering the violence of it all I will cautiously say I think it is Sarah’s ghost. She’s probably hoping to get forgiveness.” She gets up from her chair and walks over to the back of the choir room where she had seen them in her dream. “She’s doomed though. Rather than get forgiveness she just keeps repeating what has already happened though. We need to stop her before the next time we end up with two dead bodies rather than one.” The bell signalling the end of lunch interupted them. “I am going to Ms Holliday’s after school to try and figure out how to deal with this paranormal situation…” She trails off unsure of how to ask what she wants to ask. 

Tina solved that problem for her “We’ll come with you.” 

She shoots Tina a grateful smile before leaving to go to her next class.

They left Glee as a group the moment Mr. Schuester dismissed them. As they exited, Rachel overheard Kurt and Mercedes immediately launching into theories about Mike’s involvement, their voices hushed but animated.

After a short drive in both Rachel and Mike’s cars, they arrived at Ms. Holliday’s house. She wasn’t there yet, so Rachel reached under the doormat for the spare key and let everyone inside. Once they were settled in the living room, sitting in the same positions as the day before, Quinn spoke up.

“I did some research- ”

“When?” Rachel interrupted before she could stop herself. Her eyebrows rose as she turned to stare at Quinn in disbelief. “We had classes, Glee… when could you possibly have had time?”

Quinn turned her head, calm and unbothered. “In Spanish class. I live with Santana. I speak better Spanish than Mr Schuester does.”

Mike let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. “Anyone speaks better Spanish than Mr Schue.”

Quinn rubbed her palms together and refocused.  “I think you are right Rachel, the ghost is stuck in a catch 22. There is no way for it to get peace because there is no way for it to get the forgiveness it seeks. Therefore, I think we should do a…” Her voice dropped a little, and she reached up to touch the cross hanging around her neck as she said it. “Excorsism.” 

Tina drew in a sharp breath. “Those are hard,” she said, looking over at Quinn with concern. “Are you sure?”

Rachel answered before Quinn could. “I trust Quinn.” She held Tina’s gaze until Tina gave a quiet nod. Then Rachel turned back to Quinn. “So what do you propose?”

Quinn stood and crossed the room to the chalkboard Ms. Holliday used to explain fighting techniques. She picked up a piece of chalk and began to sketch. “The balcony,” she said, underlining the word. “That’s where Phoebe was shot in 1975. It’s where Ms. Blethiem died. It’s the hot spot, the center of all this bad energy. We need to create a Mangus Tripod.”

She drew a triangle on the board. “One person stands here, right in the hot spot, chanting. The other three form the tripod around them. It’s supposed to bind the spirit, stop it from hurting anyone else. Tina, we’ll need you to work out the exact words of the chant.”

Tina nodded. “Okay. I’ll figure it out.”

Mike glanced toward Tina, then back at Quinn. “What if it doesn’t work? I’m sure it will, but… what if it doesn’t?”

Rachel finally decides to join in on the conversation, “Ms Holliday has a bunch of bullet proof vests that will keep us safe if a gun comes into the picture. Tina, is there anything you can put together to protect us from the ghost?”

“I can make protective scapulas.”

“Right you can make whatever that is-” Rachel replied, waving a hand vaguely.

“-It’s a bag of herbs bound together with some spells for protection. You wear it around your neck” 

Rachel nodded seriously, like she hadn’t just brushed Tina off a second earlier. “Thank you, Tina. So, I propose we meet outside McKinley at eleven-thirty tonight. I’ll stay here a bit longer to update Ms Holliday and get a key for the school.”

Tina and Mike both nodded and rose from their seats. Quinn, however, remained on the couch beside Rachel.

“I’m going to stay with Rachel,” she said softly.

Tina gave Rachel a curious look but didn’t question it. She simply nodded and walked out with Mike.

Rachel turned to Quinn, narrowing her eyes slightly. “What?”

Quinn’s tone was calm and genuine. “Nothing.”

Rachel studied her for a second longer, searching her expression for an explanation, but eventually let it go with a slight shake of her head. Quinn leaned back, settling more comfortably into the couch beside her.

As the afternoon faded, the sunlight began casting golden streaks through the windows. The sky outside turned soft with shades of orange and pink, and the room quieted. Quinn fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, sneaking occasional glances at Rachel, who sat quietly, lost in her own thoughts. The air felt charged, tense with the weight of what they were about to attempt. Rachel checked her watch now and then, a growing restlessness bubbling inside her.

When Ms Holliday finally returned, Rachel stood and briefed her on the plan. With Ms Holliday’s cautious approval, Rachel retrieved the key and returned to the couch, joining Quinn again in silence.

At exactly eleven o’clock, Rachel rose from her seat. The sudden movement startled Quinn, who had been immersed in a book.

“It’s time,” Rachel said, her voice steady and sure. 

Quinn nodded, closed the book, and stood up with her.

McKinley was silent and dark when they entered. The only light came from the street lamps outside, casting long shadows across the linoleum floors. Rachel switched on her flashlight, the beam slicing through the gloom and bouncing off the lockers. One by one, the others turned on their flashlights as well, creating scattered cones of light.

Rachel turned to face the group. “You ready?”

They all nodded. With a single glance over her shoulder, Rachel led them down the hallway toward the balcony.

A sudden, deafening bang echoed through the empty corridor. Everyone froze. Rachel turned sharply, eyes darting toward the sound. The double doors at the end of the hallway -the ones she had deliberately left open - had slammed shut with no help from the wind or human hands.

She let out a shaky breath, tried to still the shiver that ran through her, and started walking again.

As she passed one of the lockers, her hand brushed against the cool metal surface. The instant contact sent a jolt through her system. A barrage of images flooded her mind. Pain. Screams. The flash of a gun. Blood.

The visions hit her like a wave, and she staggered, barely catching herself before she hit the floor.

Phoebe and Sarah inside the dark choir room dancing slowly to soft music playing from a record player. Rachel looks around the room and sees a poster for the Sadie Hawkins dance on the window. Sarah and Pheobe are in the same clothes as last time she saw them. 

Phoebe leans in and whispers into Sarah’s ears “I know it’s not the same but it’s something right?” 

Rachel sees Sarah nod and place her head softly on Phoebe’s shoulders as they continue swaying to the music. As the song enters its last few notes Pheobe takes one arm off Sarah’s back and moves Sarah’s face towards her and softly kisses her. The scene fades out and the ones that follow come at her in rapid succession.

Paige and Liz’s fight for the third time but this time she sees it with the original cast. 

The hurt and anger on Sarah’s face is unmistakable as is the hurt and sadness on Pheobe’s face. 

She sees the moment Sarah pulls out the gun while yelling about love. 

She sees Pheobe run out onto the balcony being chased by Sarah. Phoebe is crying and the desperation on Sarah’s face is evident as she reaches up to wipe her forehead the gun goes off and shock and terror flash across Sarah’s face.

She sees the bullet hit Pheobe in the chest and hears the soft gasp she lets out before she stumbles off the balcony. 

She sees how Sarah lets out a gut wrenching sob and turning and walking away, gun still in her shaking hand.

She sees Sarah in the music room putting on a record. Playing the same song she and Pheobe had danced to before closing her eyes and silently swaying tears streaming down her cheeks.

She see’s Sarah put the gun to her head as the last notes of the song fade out before pulling the trigger.

She sees Sarah’s body fall almost in slow motion to the ground.

"Rachel!" Quinn's voice cut through the haze, snapping Rachel out of her visions. "Are you okay?"

She nodded shakily, her breath still uneven, but didn’t speak as she turned to open the door that led onto the balcony.

Rachel checked her watch. 11:55 p.m.

She turned off her flashlight and slipped it back into her bag, then pulled out a bundle of candles. She paced quietly across the balcony, handing them out, collecting the torches from the others and tucking them away as well. Once she was certain everyone had a candle and a lighter, she spoke.

"Okay. Let us get in our positions."

She moved to the center of the balcony, watching as Tina, Mike, and Quinn took their designated places, forming a triangle around her. She glanced once more at her watch - 11:59pm. With a small, steadying breath, she lit her candle. One by one, the others followed her lead. Their faces flickered in the soft, golden light, shadows dancing across their features.

As the clock ticked over to 12:00am, Rachel began the chant Tina had provided them. Her voice was calm, deliberate.

"I shall confront and expel all evil,
Out of marrow and bone,
Out of house and home,
Never to come here again."

When she finished, Quinn repeated the chant. Then Tina. Then Mike.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Rachel caught a flicker of confusion on Tina’s face in the candlelight - then a gust of wind surged from nowhere and snuffed out the flames.

Darkness engulfed them.

Rachel’s eyes adjusted slowly. She walked toward Quinn as the others converged behind her.

“Did that work?” she asked, her voice quiet. 

Quinn gave a helpless shrug.

Rachel frowned, turning toward the balcony doors. “We followed every instruction exactly. It had to have worked.”

“Magic is more complicated than that,” Tina said softly from behind her.

“Oh, well,” Rachel began, looking between Quinn and Tina, “do either of you have a way to determine whether tonight’s attempt was successful?”

She resumed walking as she spoke, but before anyone could answer, a low, guttural roar echoed down the hallway. The lockers began to rattle violently as a powerful gust of wind barreled toward them.

Rachel staggered as the wind struck her full-force. She reached out, trying to grab Quinn’s hand, but the strength of the wind was too much. The school doors swung open on their own, and the four of them were shoved backward, stumbling into the school courtyard.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the wind vanished. The doors slammed shut behind them with a deafening bang. Rachel rushed forward and tried the handles, but they wouldn’t budge.

“Based on the evidence we have just been provided with,” she said dryly, turning to the others, “I am going to hazard a guess and say the exorcism was not a rousing success.”

Mike looked at her, clearly hoping she’d have a plan. Tina and Quinn were watching her the same way.

“Uh… we should regroup,” Rachel said after a beat. “We’ll go to Ms Holliday’s place and figure out our next steps there - someplace that is not haunted.” She gave a firm nod and started walking toward the street, glancing back to make sure the others followed.

When they arrived at Ms Holliday’s house, she opened the door almost immediately.

“Judging by the looks on your faces, I’m going to guess the ghost won this round?” she said as the group filed into the living room and dropped into the nearest available seats.

Rachel remained standing. After a moment, the pent-up tension in her body took over, and she began to pace across the room. She gave Ms Holliday a succinct summary of what had happened, keeping her voice steady despite the lingering adrenaline.

“Well,” Ms. Holliday said slowly, “the good news is no one was shot - ”

“We wore bulletproof vests,” Rachel interrupted quickly, a note of pride in her voice.

“Smart thinking. So no one was injured, and based on the parallels and Rachel’s visions, I think we can safely say this ghost is Sarah.”

Rachel turned toward her, eyes wide. “So how do I fix this?”

“Well… she’s clearly reliving the night of the Sadie Hawkins dance - 1955, I think? That’s when she killed Phoebe. Spirits often do this, recreating their own tragedies in a loop. She’s stuck, trying to resolve what’s holding her here.”

“Rachel was right,” Quinn said, her tone decisive. “She wants forgiveness. But Rachel’s also right that she can’t get it.”

“Yes, you’re both correct,” Ms Holliday replied. “When Sarah possesses people, they reenact the events of that night exactly. So instead of receiving the forgiveness she craves, she’s forced to kill Phoebe again and again. She’s trapped in a cycle of her own guilt.” Ms Holliday looked Rachel directly in the eye. “Forgiveness is impossible.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Rachel stared at the floor, the weight of those words settling in her chest. But Quinn didn’t seem burdened by it at all.

“Good. She doesn’t deserve it,” Quinn said flatly.

“Everyone deserves forgiveness,” Rachel countered, her voice soft but unwavering.

“Sarah hurt someone she claimed to love. It was selfish. Cruel. Phoebe shouldn’t forgive her. Sarah should have to live with that.”

“She can’t live with it. She’s dead,” Mike muttered, but Rachel ignored him.

“To forgive is an act of kindness,” she said, her eyes fixed on Quinn’s. “You don’t do it because someone deserves it. You do it because they need it.”

Quinn let out a quiet scoff but said nothing more.

After a beat, Tina and Mike began whispering to each other, their conversation drifting softly in the background as Rachel returned to her pacing, her mind still turning over the question that hadn’t yet found an answer.

Rachel stopped her pacing and headed toward the kitchen. Once inside, she filled a glass with water, eyes drifting out the window as the stream trickled from the tap. It was then that she heard it.

The song.

The same one that had played when Sarah and Phoebe danced. The song that had been playing when Sarah took her own life. Rachel froze, heart pounding as the melody wrapped itself around her. She turned sharply, scanning the living room.

No one reacted.

No flicker of recognition crossed their faces.

It had to be in her head.

The path from the kitchen to the front door was clear, and nobody in the living room paid her any attention. Her steps were quiet as she slipped out into the hallway. She had only made it halfway down when Quinn's voice called from behind.

“Where are you going?”

“I am just departing this apartment complex in order to obtain some fresh air,” Rachel replied, stiffly.

“Liar. You’re going back,” Quinn said as she stepped closer. “And I’m coming with you.”

“I... I...” Rachel stuttered, then exhaled, knowing there was no point in arguing. “Okay.”

Quinn smiled, and without another word, closed the distance between them. They walked side by side to the school in silence.

When they arrived, the school’s front doors creaked open on their own. They exchanged a look before stepping inside. Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridors, lit only by pale moonlight filtering through the windows. Rachel had been too rushed to grab a flashlight.

It was cold.

She rubbed her arms instinctively, but the chill remained. She couldn’t warm herself.

The words slipped from her lips, unbidden. “You can't make me disappear just because you say it's over.”

Quinn turned to her, brows furrowing at first, but then comprehension flickered in her eyes. She stepped closer, her expression going blank as she responded.

“There’s no way we can be together. No way people will ever understand. Accept it.”

Phoebe’s words. 

Sarah’s pain surged up in Rachel’s chest, overwhelming her. “Is that what this is about? What other people think?” Her voice came out sharp, angry, but she knew - deep down - it wasn’t rage. It was heartbreak.

“No! I just want you to have some kind of normal life. We can never have that. Don’t you see?” Quinn took another step closer.

“I don’t give a damn about a normal life!” Rachel’s shout rang through the hallway. Her fists clenched and released, as if Sarah’s grief were battling her every muscle for control. “I’m going crazy not seeing you. I think about you every minute.”

Quinn’s hand came up, gently cupping Rachel’s cheek. Her voice was soft, barely a whisper. “I know. But it’s over. It has to be.”

Rachel looked down, blinking back tears. When she looked up again, Quinn had turned away, walking.

“No,” Rachel whispered. Then louder. “Come back here! We’re not finished yet!”

She caught up to Quinn, grabbing her arm and spinning her around.

Quinn was crying.

Rachel felt the next words rise up and tried to stop them, tried to push them down, but they exploded from her lips. “You don’t care anymore? Is that it?”

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what I feel.” Quinn’s voice cracked, and tears streamed down her face.

“Then tell me you don’t love me. Say it!” Rachel gave Quinn’s arm a sharp tug, flinching at the pain that twisted Quinn’s face.

“Will that help? Is that what you have to hear? I don’t. I don’t. Now let me go!”

Rachel stepped back. The panic rising in her gut tangled with Sarah’s sorrow and fury. She flicked her eyes across Quinn’s body, searching for the bulletproof vest. Relief bloomed when she saw it was still in place.

But the gun was already in her hand.

The cold weight of it. The metallic click as she flicked off the safety. Her fingers moved with skill they should not possess.

“Love is forever. I’m not afraid to use it. I swear. If I can’t be with you...” Her voice trailed off, and her hands trembled as the barrel of the gun leveled toward Quinn.

“Oh, my God.” Quinn’s voice broke as terror rose in her.

Rachel stared at her, eyes wide with Sarah’s regret, her own horror. She didn’t know if Quinn could see it, if any part of her showed through.

Quinn spun and bolted down the hallway.

Rachel gave chase.

The memories of the last two times this had played out flooded her mind. She tried to stop herself. To stop the sprinting, to stop the yelling.

“Don’t walk away from me, bitch!”

Quinn burst onto the balcony. Rachel followed right after, watching as Quinn came to a halt near the edge, realizing she was cornered.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Rachel cried. “Don’t make me!”

She skidded to a stop a few feet away. Quinn turned around, eyes wide, breath ragged.

“All right. Just... you know you don’t want to do this. Let’s both just... calm down. Now just give me the gun.” Quinn held out a trembling hand.

Frustration churned inside Rachel, Sarah’s torment mounting. Her free hand curled into a fist.

“Don’t. Don’t do that, damn it!” she shouted. “Don’t talk to me like I’m some stupid - ”

The gun went off.

The recoil knocked her off balance. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up, expecting the worst.

Quinn stumbled.

But there was no blood.

Rachel’s knees went weak with relief even as Sarah’s panic screamed through her body.

Quinn took a final staggered step, then tumbled backwards over the edge of the balcony.

“Sarah,” the name slipped out like a ghost on the wind.

Rachel didn’t hear the impact. Only the silence afterward. Her heart thundered. The vest had stopped the bullet, but what about the fall?

She wanted to run to Quinn, to help her, but Sarah still controlled her limbs. Instead, her feet moved toward the choir room, gun still clutched in her hand.

She drifted toward the record player sitting near the back of the room. It hadn’t been there earlier.

It was like the gun. Like the scene playing out through her body.

She placed the needle on the record, and the familiar melody began again. Slowly, she began to sway.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

The gun inched toward her temple.

The cold barrel pressed against her skin.

She took in shallow, ragged breaths, fighting for control. Her muscles trembled with the effort. Just as she thought she couldn’t hold on any longer, a warm hand closed over hers, guiding the gun downward.

Quinn.

“Pheobe.” The shock she’s feeling isn't purely her own, as if the ghost inside her is relieved that finally, finally something is different.

“Don’t do this,” Quinn said softly.

Rachel’s eyes scanned her, looking for blood, for bruises, for breaks. Nothing.

“But - but I killed you.” Her voice cracked.

“It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Oh, it is my fault. How could I—”

“Shhh,” Quinn interrupted. “I’m the one who should be sorry, Sarah. You thought I stopped loving you. But I never did. I loved you with my last breath.”

She cupped Rachel’s cheek and wiped away the tears.

Rachel sobbed. Deep, shaking sobs. Her knees gave out, but Quinn steadied her.

“Shhh. No more tears. It’s okay.”

Rachel looked up into Quinn’s eyes. She saw the flecks of color, the warmth, the single tear still clinging to her lashes.

Quinn leans in and Rachel feels the relief and love building up inside of her. 

Inside of Sarah. 

And then, they kissed.

It was slow at first. Gentle.

But then it deepened, and Rachel clung to Quinn, her hand fisting in her shirt.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw light.

It streamed from both of them, golden and warm, rising toward the ceiling.

Sarah was leaving.

When Rachel pulled back, her chest heaved as she adjusted to the quiet in her own mind.

“Quinn!” she gasped. “I apologize profusely - ”

“It’s okay, Rach,” Quinn cut her off gently, though confusion lingered in her expression. “We were possessed. It’s okay. Breathe, Rachel. It’s okay.”

Rachel nodded, forcing herself to breathe. “Correct me if I am wrong, but it seems we were dealing with both Sarah and Phoebe’s ghosts?”

Quinn nodded.

Rachel reached out and took her hand. “How... how are you okay?”

“I’m a Cheerio, Rachel. I know how to fall.” Quinn smiled faintly. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Rachel tried to smile back. “I was so worried. I wanted to help you, but I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay, Rach.”

She nodded again, pushing back the tide of fear and sadness. “We should go back to Ms Holliday’s. The others must be worried. If they noticed.”

“They noticed.” Quinn’s hand tightened briefly in hers, then relaxed.

They walked out of McKinley together.

When they entered Ms Holliday’s, the others jumped to their feet. Rachel gave them a weak, reassuring smile and walked straight past, heading for the training room.

She heard Tina mumble, “Huh?” just before the door shut behind her.

She crossed to the bench and sat down, folding forward until her arms were cradling her head.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

But it wasn’t working.

She had shot Quinn.

She had kissed Quinn.

The door creaked open and shut. Ms Holliday walked toward her, but Rachel didn’t look up.

In and out.

In and out.

The bench shifted as Ms Holliday sat beside her. Rachel focused on her breath. Only when she felt steadier did she lift her head. Ms Holliday’s hand came to rest gently on her shoulder.

“Quinn told us what happened. Are you okay?”

Rachel didn’t answer. She didn’t know how.

“She was so sad. Sarah.” Her voice was a whisper. “I am so sad.”

She doesn’t know what to do with all the emotions coursing through her body. Emotions that used to be blocked behind a big brick wall in her brain. 

She stood up suddenly, shrugging off Ms Holliday’s hand. She began to pace.

“I thought I was okay. I thought nothing at school could touch me. That I could be the Slayer and handle it. But I shot Quinn. I shot her.”

“You didn’t shoot Quinn. Sarah did.”

“It was my hand!” Rachel shouted. “My hand pulled the trigger. What does that say about me?”

“It wasn’t you.”

“Sarah was angry. I’m angry. Sarah was sad. I am sad. Sarah pulled the trigger. I pulled the trigger.” She raises her voice but doesn’t look back at where Ms Holliday was sitting. “What does that say about me?”

“It wasn’t you Rachel.”

“Sarah was angry. I’m angry. Sarah was sad. I am sad. Sarah pulled the trigger. I pulled the trigger.” 

“She allowed her emotions to outweigh her common scese and her morality. You wouldn't do that. You have one of the biggest hearts. Someone can slushy you and you’ll help them two minutes later. You have a great capacity for forgiveness and love .You're a good person Rachel.”

“I do not feel like one.”

“That’s okay. But listen to me. Listen to Quinn. Listen to all of us. You are.”

Rachel let out a soft breath and walked back to the bench.

“Is Quinn okay?”

“She’s shaken. Not as much as you, but she’s okay. Mostly worried about you.”

Rachel nodded, leaning forward again. Ms Holliday’s hand returned to her shoulder.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

“Does this ever get easier?” Rachel asked quietly.

“What do you want me to say?” 

“Lie to me.”

“Yes, it's terribly simple. The good guys are always stalwart and true, the bad guys are easily distinguished by their pointy horns or black hats, and, uh, we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after.”

“Liar.” 

Chapter Text

After training on Monday morning, Rachel pushed open the doors of McKinley High and made her way down the familiar corridors, her shoes clicking softly against the linoleum. The fluorescent lights above flickered faintly as she walked, casting long shadows on the scuffed floor. She kept her eyes open, scanning faces and hallways, hoping - though she wasn’t sure why - to catch a glimpse of Quinn.

She hadn’t seen her since Friday night.

The weekend had passed in a blur of patrols and restless sleep. Rachel had started leaving her house earlier than usual, long before the time Quinn might have shown up. She didn’t know if Quinn had even tried to join her. The absence stung, but she wasn’t sure who was avoiding whom anymore.

She exhaled sharply as she reached the choir room and pushed the door open, hoping to steal a few minutes of practice before homeroom. But instead of the empty room she expected, she was met with sharp brown eyes and a look that could have cut glass.

Santana.

The moment Santana spotted her, her entire posture shifted. She straightened up from where she’d been lounging across a chair and stalked toward Rachel with the predatory grace of a lioness sizing up her kill.

“What did you do, troll?” Santana’s voice was low and dangerous, dripping with venom.

Rachel froze, her breath catching in her throat. She had faced vampires. Demons. Creatures that wore twisted, nightmarish faces and wanted her dead. But none of them inspired the same sharp spike of dread that Santana Lopez did when she was angry.

This was different.

This was personal.

Rachel took an involuntary step backward, the heel of her shoe scuffing against the floor. Santana didn’t slow down. If anything, her pace quickened, her glare intensifying as she crossed the room like a storm.

Rachel’s mind raced. What had she done to make Santana this furious? Yes, Santana found her mere existence irritating on a good day, but this... this felt different. Focused. Targeted.

“I… what?” Rachel stammered, cursing her own lack of composure.

Her voice sounded too high, too thin, and Santana’s eyes narrowed further. It was like standing in front of a ticking bomb and not knowing which wire to cut.

“God. Quinn,” Santana snapped, her tone slicing through the air like a blade. “What did you do to Quinn?”

The name hit Rachel like a punch to the chest.

Quinn.

Her breath caught, and guilt twisted sharply in her stomach.

Rachel felt dawning realisation but she was unsure of exactly what Santana would be specifically referring to. 

Both potential options terrified her. 

Though how Santana would know them she was unsure. While she had been avoiding Quinn she couldn’t see Quinn opening up to Santana about the events of last week. At her lack of response, Santana let out a growl of frustration and stormed forward. She got so close Rachel could feel the heat of her breath.

"She's been sulking in her room the entire weekend, the depressed little shit." Santana rolls her eyes, before narrowing them. "The only time she left was to go find you, and well- let's just say that if her room's door is broken from it being slammed too hard you're paying for it, Berry. So I'll ask you again. What. Did. You. Do?" Santana reaches out to grab her and Rachel shoves the instinct to dodge to the side and allows Santana to grab onto her sweater and give her a slight shake. 

The guilt inside her allows her to acknowledge that she deserves Santana’s anger. 

What kind of Slayer shoots her friend? 

What kind of friend kisses another friend without their consent? 

Someone like her. 

Granted they had both been possessed but as the Slayer she couldn’t help but think there must have been something she could have done to prevent those events. She didn’t deserve Quinn as her friend and she was sure that Quinn would have realised that by now so the fact that she had even attempted to see Rachel over the weekend was surprising. Although, maybe she just wanted to tell Rachel exactly what she thought of her in person? That was the most likely option she concluded. She took a deep breath and mustered the confidence to look Santana dead in the eyes while responding.

"Santana," Rachel said, keeping her voice even despite the tight grip on her sweater, "while I find your concern for your friend touching, albeit unexpected, I must ask that you release me immediately."

Santana did not move. If anything, her grip tightened, fingers twisting more insistently in the wool of Rachel’s cardigan as she stepped even closer, eyes locked on Rachel’s face with razor-sharp intensity.

Rachel blinked, trying not to recoil as Santana's breath hit her face, warm and furious.

"Wow. Okay," she said, voice trembling slightly but determined to hold its edge. "You have truly mastered the art of appearing threatening. It's actually quite disconcerting how close you are to my face right now."

She took a deep breath, swallowing down her nerves. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

"Um. Regarding Quinn," she continued, eyes darting quickly over Santana’s face to read her expression, "I’m unsure as to what you are referring to."

Lie .

“And though I understand the level of disdain you hold for me, my friendship with Quinn is not your concern.”

Rachel gave a small nod, hoping to appear more confident than she felt. Santana’s jaw was clenched tight, her knuckles whitening against the fabric of Rachel’s sweater. Her dark eyes flickered with restrained fury as she considered her next move.

The room was silent, the tension between them sharp and suffocating.

"Santana!" Quinn’s voice rang out from the doorway, sharp enough to cut through the thick silence.

Santana dropped her hand like she’d touched a hot stove and stepped back, breathing heavily as she turned toward the sound. Rachel stumbled slightly from the sudden release, eyes darting to Quinn.

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked as she crossed into the room, her voice calm but unmistakably edged with authority.

“I know it’s Yentl’s fault you’ve been acting so weird,” Santana muttered, the nickname laced with venom. She folded her arms across her chest and gave Quinn a look brimming with judgment and frustration.

Quinn didn’t respond right away. She crossed the space with careful deliberation and came to stand beside Rachel. Her shoulder brushed Rachel’s, and her body angled protectively in front of her.

Rachel’s brow furrowed. That... didn’t make sense. Every chart in her bedroom, every late-night mental loop, every shred of logic told her Quinn should be angry with her. Distant. Done. But now she was standing between her and Santana like a shield.

What was this?

What was her angle?

“Leave Rachel alone,” Quinn said, her voice steady, firm.

Santana scoffed. Her eyes narrowed as she looked between them with disbelief. “Why do you care?”

There was hurt in her voice, buried beneath the snarl.

“We’re friends,” Quinn said, the words flying out of her mouth without hesitation.

Rachel blinked.

Santana looked stunned. She shook her head and let out a bitter laugh.

“You and the freak? Nah. I don’t buy it.” She pointed a sharp finger at Quinn. “What’s your game?”

Rachel flinched slightly. That was her thought too. She didn’t want to admit how much it scared her not knowing the answer.

“No game,” Quinn said again, stepping closer. 

For a second, it looked like Santana might back away. Instead, she stood her ground, jaw clenched, eyes hard.

“You know that,” Quinn continued, her voice softer now, tinged with something more vulnerable. “What’s going on, really?”

Santana looked at her for a long second, then let her gaze swing back to Rachel. She scoffed again.

“I can’t believe that lizard baby damaged your brain so bad you think Yentl is a good friend choice.”

“Santana - ” Quinn started, her voice still calm but firmer now, trying to hold the line.

But Santana didn’t let her finish. She threw up her hands.

“Whatever.” The word was spat out like poison, and she turned on her heel.

It was remarkably similar to Rachel’s diva strom outs she thought except unlike her Santana didn’t flip her hair while storming out. 

Quinn turned to face her again, lips parting as if to speak, but the bell rang before she could say a word.

Rachel straightened her shoulders, clinging to the reprieve. “Bell!” she announced, a touch too brightly.

Quinn blinked at her, clearly confused.

“In order to maintain our attendance records,” Rachel explained, her voice racing slightly, “mine of which are impeccable, and yours, which while strong, are slightly less impeccable, we should postpone this conversation and go our separate ways. To homeroom.”

She gave a short, abrupt nod and pivoted toward the door before Quinn could answer. Her bag bounced against her side as she walked briskly into the hallway, her thoughts in chaotic disarray.

She had no idea what any of that had just meant.

She was glad she had postponed the conversation. It gave her time to wrap her head around the events of that morning. Due to the years of avoiding slushies she knew all the fastest routes to various locations in the school which meant that she successfully made it to homeroom in time and incident free, despite only heading to class at the bell rather than before as per usual. 

She slid into her chair at the front of the room before beginning to organise her things on her desk. While she was looking down at her desk placing her notebook and pens on it, Mike sat down at the desk next to her. 

The desk was usually empty. 

A quick glance around the room showed that there were still a fair amount of open seats so Mike was sitting next to her by choice. 

“Are you okay?” Mike asked. 

She looked up at Mike who didn’t give her time to respond before continuing.

“You hightailed out of Ms Holliday’s so fast we didn’t get time to speak and Tina says you aren’t answering your phone.” Mike was looking at her and his brows were pulled together as he waited for her response. 

She weighed up her options on how to respond. Unlike other people, Mike didn’t seem frustrated by having to wait for a response.

“I will admit that I find myself slightly more shaken by the events of Friday night than I thought I would, however I am sure that this is just temporary and I will be back to my usual vivacious self shortly,” she punctuated her sentence with a sharp nod as she flashed Mike a smile. 

She chose not to mention that rather than giving her new emotions, Friday had instead released all the emotions that she usually kept well hidden. Mike looked at her for a second in silence before speaking once more.

“Okay. Well if you need to talk…” Mike gave her the ghost of a smile and turned to the front as Mr Robertson walked in. 

Rather than sit down at his desk and ignore them as he usually did though he instead paused at the whiteboard and waited for the class to quiet down before addressing them. 

“Last night your classmate Mr Rick Nelson committed suicide.” 

The class broke out in exclamations. 

“Quiet!” 

When the chattering went down to mumbles he continued as if accepting that that was the best he was going to get. 

“Ms Pillsbury asked me to remind you that her office is always open.” 

He didn’t say anything else and walked over to his desk and pulled out a book and started reading it paying no heed to the chaos that his statement had caused. The class was in an uproar as discussions broke out. Mike let out a deep sigh and Rachel looked over at him.

“Rick the stick, I never would have thought…” He trailed off and let out another sigh. 

Rachel reached out and gave his shoulder a hesitant squeeze. Before looking back down at her notebook and reading through her notes for the exam next period. 

Her thoughts wouldn’t allow her to focus though. She kept thinking about the series of events that would lead Rick the stick to commit suicide? Rick had thrown so many slushies on her and had insulted her so many times she had lost count before the end of freshman year but still she wouldn’t wish the headspace of the suicidally depressed on her worst enemy and Rick wasn’t even her worst enemy. 

Although who in particular got that honor she wasn’t sure. 

She let out a sigh and tried to gather her thoughts away from Rick but the chatter in the classroom didn’t allow her much reprieve and the rest of the school day passed in similar fashion. 

All around her, all day, people were talking about how they would have never thought he was feeling like that. Not taking into account that it’s very rare that one does know what is happening inside another person’s head. No one knew anyone as well as they thought. 

Rachel just kept her head down and was thankful that for once everyone was too distracted to even attempt to slushy anyone. A slushy was the last thing her tremulous headspace needed right now. 

When Rachel walked into Glee club that afternoon she wasn’t the first one in it. For the second time that day someone was waiting for her. 

Quinn.

“I told Ms Walker, Coach Sylvester needed me. We need to talk.” Quinn said from where she was sitting on the chair next to Rachels usual seat. 

For a second Rachel considered turning around and hightailing it out of there to avoid the coming conversation but she dug deep inside herself to summon the courage to allow her to walk towards Quinn and respond. She had faced multiple vampires at once so she could face scary Quinn. 

She could.

“Okay…” She trailed off as she sat down in her seat but slightly angled herself to face Quinn. 

She had hoped to avoid this conversation as long as possible to be able to live in the time where she was still friends with Quinn as long as possible but unfortunately Quinn had beaten her to the punch.

“You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” Quinn’s face was closed off as if she was trying to hide her emotions from Rachel. 

While in the past that might have worked, their late night patrols and other hangouts had made Rachel more intune with Quinn’s emotions via facial and body ticks so she could see the lingering hurt and frustration behind Quinn’s statement. Rachel lifted up her hand and ran it through her hair. That wasn’t what Rachel had been expecting. She had been expecting a quick cessation of friendship followed by a return to the previous status quo but like this morning Quinn was surprising her. She had been expecting anger and hate, not the hurt and frustration on Quinn’s face. She had been expecting something other than this.

“You know why.” 

Quinn raised her eyebrow at Rachel's words before drawling. “No! Rachel I don’t.” 

How could she not? 

How could she not be as angry at Rachel as Rachel was at herself? 

How was it that in the past Quinn wanted to punch her in the face every time she opened her mouth but now she stood in front of Rachel as if confused as to why she should be upset with her?

“I shot you.” 

She glanced at the choir room door quickly while responding to ensure that no one was witnessing this conversation. When she was satisfied that the coast was clear she glanced back at Quinn before quickly looking down at her lap instead.

“No you didn’t,” Quinn reached out and put her hands over Rachels that were nervously clenching on her lap. “You were possessed. We were possessed.” Quinn’s voice was soft and tender and when Rachel looked up at Quinn’s face she was surprised that the usual locked down expression on Quinns face had been replaced with one that Rachel could clearly read the concern in.

“That does not excuse my actions. I am ‘The Slayer’. I am supposed to protect you, people, I’m supposed to protect people and I failed.” She slipped one of her hands out from under Quinns and ran it through her hair and glanced back down. “I do not understand how you are sitting there looking at me like, like I did not do anything wrong. Like I am not a failure.”

Quinn squeezed Rachels hand and bent her head to look Rachel in the eyes from where Rachel was staring at her lap before responding.

“Because you didn’t. I promise Rach. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Rachel shook her head but Quinn was undeterred. “You didn’t. You got rid of the ghosts and you gave them the peace they needed. You gave us the bullet proof vests. You kept me safe. You did nothing wrong.”

“I kissed you.”

“I kissed you too.” 

Quinn’s voice was even and left no room for argument although Rachel still had plenty more she wanted to say. There was silence for a moment before Quinn spoke once more. 

“Talk to me Rach, what’s going on in your head?” 

Rachel struggled to make sense of the myriad of thoughts in her head, the most prominent of all of them though was confusion. Confusion as to why this conversation was happening. Confusion as to the contents of this conversation. 

Just confusion. 

When she spoke it was in barely a whisper. It was only Quinn's proximity that meant that she would be able to hear her.  “I just do not understand.”

“What is it that you don’t understand?”

“Why, why you are here talking to me like we’re friends,” She avoided Quinn's eyes as she spoke but she couldn’t avoid Quinn’s response which was quick and earnest when it came.

“We are friends.”

“I do not understand how, how we are friends.” She shrugged and chanced a look over at Quinn and noticed her leaning forward and staring at Rachel unflinchingly. Rachel quickly looked back down at her lap before she moistened her lips and continued speaking. “I know that you apologised for your past mistakes but you do not need to pretend to be my friend under some misguided sense of obligation.” She looked back up at Quinn and met her eyes “Really.” 

Rachel waited for Quinn's response but it didn’t come. 

Instead Quinn just sat there holding Rachels hand before reaching up with her other hand and wiping away a tear. 

“Quinn?”

“I’m so sorry,” Quinn’s words came out, choked in the manner of one holding back tears. 

Rachel didn’t understand why Quinn was crying and apologising perhaps she had misunderstood what Rachel had said? 

“It’s okay Quinn.”

“It’s not, it’s really not. You are, you are this amazing person and anyone would be lucky to be your friend.”

“I do not understand?” Rachel seemed to be saying that a lot today but if anything she had become even more confused as the conversation progressed. “Why are you apologising?” 

“Because I was the reason you became a target. This is my fault.” 

Quinn reached up and wiped away another silent tear as Rachel pondered her words but only one thought kept echoing through her head.

“You were the reason?”  

Quinn nodded her head and in her mind's eye Rachel remembered the very first time a slushy had hit her. Not two hours into her first day, the first couple of periods Rachel had made some casual conversation with her peers and was excited for the lunch period where she had hoped to cement some of those conversations into friendships only for those hopes to be dashed when the slushy hit her and her status of a loser was imprinted into the minds of everyone at McKinley High. 

“Why would you do that?" Rachel asked, frowning.Quinn sighed. 

“Because I was an idiot, Rachel. I told you before: I will never deserve your forgiveness for all the stupid things I've done to you.”

“Whether or not you deserve my forgiveness is irrelevant because I have already forgiven you. I am simply hoping for an explanation if you are willing to provide one?” 

Quinn let out another sigh before she responded. “I don’t have one,” she shrugged. “I wish I did Rachel but I don’t have one other than the fact that I wanted to be popular, I wanted to ensure that I would not end up on the bottom of the school hierarchy and the way to do that is to choose someone else to be on the bottom.” Quinn wiped away another tear and shook her head as if attempting to stop more tears from emerging. “It is my greatest regret doing to you what I did.”

“So I just had the misfortune of what, being in the wrong place at the wrong time?” Rachel looked at Quinn for her response but Quinn hesitated for a second before nodding. “That is not a very satisfying reason.I was hoping for something a tad bit more dramatic” She gave Quinn a soft smile to show the humor in her statement and was rewarded by a soft chuckle from Quinn.

“Like what?” Rachel smiled and hummed a soft tune and she could see the moment Quinn recognized the tune because she burst into laughter. “Am I Glinda in this scenario?”

“Of course,” She smiled at Quinn and allowed all the weight that had been on her shoulders since last week to slip away.

The arrival of Kurt and Mercedes into the choir room shut down their conversation but Quinn’s hand remained on Rachel’s lap holding her hand. It was only as the rest of the club started to trickle in that Rachel felt Quinn give her hand a soft squeeze before letting go. Quinn pulled out a book from her bag and started reading it. Rachel however grabbed some sheet music from her bag to go over it before performing her chosen song later on in the meeting. 

“Did you hear about his note?” Rachel heard Kurt say from behind her pulling her attention away from the sheet music.

“No?” Merceedes responded.

“Apparently he left a multi page note listing every incident of bullying he had ever partaken in and he’s Rick the Stick you know so it was a lot and finished off by saying he didn't deserve to live.'' 

Mercedes let out a scandalised gasp at that. Rachel tuned out whatever it was that Kurt said in response. That didn’t make sense. While Rachel could understand the impulses and thoughts that would drive one to commit suicide, one driven by guilt just didn’t suit Rick. Not that he didn’t have anything to feel sorry for he had a lot, however he had shown no signs of remorse at all, just last week Rachel had been doused in a slushy by him. It just went to show you never know, she supposed but still. She shook those thoughts off and instead focused on Mr Shue as he walked into the choir room. But the lingering uneasiness about the situation remained.

“Hey guys,” Mr Shue clapped his hands together to grab their attention. “I want to take a minute to talk about Rick. I know you guys must be feeling shocked by what he did and I want to reiterate what I’m sure you have been told by your other teachers. That my door is open to talk as is Ms Pillbury’s. In saying that we are all a family here and I know that none of you would feel hesitant to speak to each other if you were in a hard place.” 

Mr Shue kept talking but Rachel was stuck on the pure absurdity of Mr Shue’s statement. The Glee club a family? Sure for some of them but not all of them.

 “...that’s why this week I want you to sing songs about family, be they blood or choosen. Okay?” Mr Shue clapped his hands together again as the glee club broke out in agreeing chatter. 

Rachel sighed and placed her sheet music back into her bag as her song choice would no longer work given the week's theme. 

“It’s rubbish right?” She was startled for a second before she processed that Quinn had leaned over to whisper into her ear. 

“What?”

“Glee being a family,” Quinn tossed her a smirk as she finished speaking and Rachel let out a soft laugh in response.

“Hey!” Santana’s sharp voice from where she had materialised next to them broke them apart “Just because we don't count the freak as part of the family doesn't mean the rest of us aren't.” 

Santana moved as if to shove her but Quinn intercepted her arm before Santana could reach Rachel. Santana shrugged off Quinn’s hand and shot out another barb looking straight into Quinn’s eyes as she spoke but Rachel could still make out the sneer on her face. 

“We'll still accept you- Berry could have a disease... Do you really want to be infected?”

Rachel took a deep breath and swallowed down the sob that almost escaped. She looked down at her lap and blinked a couple times before looking back up at Santana, show face firmly back in place. 

When Santana met her eyes her jaw was clenched before Santana rolled her eyes and turned to look at Quinn.  Quinn who was shaking her head and while Rachel didn’t know what the expression on Quinn’s face was it was enough to further enrage Santana as she looked back at Rachel and started shooting out as many barbs as she could, presumably hoping to make the most impact possible. 

It was her final insult at least a minute into her tirad that got a response. “It’s really concerning how much time you spend in Ms Holliday's office Berry, maybe we should be calling the cops about that?” 

“Is that true Rachel?” Mr Shue interrupted Santana. 

All heads turned to look at Rachel and she struggled to form words for a couple of seconds due to the incredulity of what was happening right now. She regained the powers of speech just before it seemed that Quinn was about to come to her defence. She reached out and placed her hand on Quinn’s shoulder stopping her from speaking as she responded to Mr Shue.

“Of course not.” Rachel shook her head while looking at Mr Shue and avoiding looking back at the rest of the club. “While I admit I do frequent Ms Holliday’s office it is simply due to the fact that she is assisting me with an admissions essay for a prestigious music program in New York. New York is my destiny and I refuse to allow anyone to take that from me.” 

Rachel let out an internal sigh of relief when Mr Shue nodded and seemed to let it go.Rachel had gotten a lot better at thinking on her feet since becoming the Slayer and if nothing else it would assist her when it came time for her improv classes at the college level. Mr Shue’s interruption did have the benefit of stopping Santana’s rage-filled tirad allowing the rest of Glee to carry on undisturbed. When Mr Shue dismissed them with instructions to prepare songs to sing tomorrow Quinn leaned over to whisper to Rachel.

“So can I patrol with you again tonight?” 

Rachel thought about how to respond for a second with two vying thoughts. She enjoyed Quinn’s presence on her patrols but Santana was getting increasingly angry and volatile and the only way Rachel could see to curb that was to slightly cut down on the time spent with Quinn outside of school. 

‘Um, I was thinking maybe we should cut down on how often we patrol together just so that Santana has some time to calm down.” Rachel saw a look of hurt flash across Quinn’s face before it got buried. “I am not saying we cannot patrol together anymore, just maybe not every day?” 

Quinn looked like she was going to argue before looking over and seeing Santana glaring at them from where she was sitting talking to Brittany. Seeing that Quinn deflates letting out a sigh and looks back at Rachel.

“Okay,” Quinn starts to pack up her things before suddenly looking at Rachel again. “This is just temporary though. I will not allow her whatever to derail our friendship.” 

With that Quinn walked away she was quickly followed by Santana who shouted out for Quinn to wait up. 

Rachel allowed a smile to slip out at the turn of events. Not only was Quinn still her friend but she was defending that friendship from Santana. She started to pack up her belongings when Mike and Tina, on their way out stopped to ask if she was okay after Santana’s tirad. Which was a definite step up from no one asking and crying alone in the bathroom so she allowed herself to finally start to truly accept that there was a chance that Quinn, Mike and Tina genuinely did want to be her friends. She smiled at them as she responded and followed them out of the choir room.

Quinn was standing next to Rachels locker when she arrived at school the next morning after her training. Seemingly impervious to the stares her presence at Rachel's locker was getting her. You would think after weeks of Quinn and Rachel being friends that the masses would be used to it by now but no. 

Quinn didn't even wait for Rachel to reach her before she started speaking. “Alex killed himself last night.” 

Once the words completely sunk in Rachel searched through her memory to locate who this was before remembering the brute of a jock that had tried to attack Quinn the other week.

“Alex? Why would he though? I suppose the recent death of his girlfriend could have been a factor though he seemed to me to be more prone to violent outbursts than suicidal ideation....” She trailed off, stopping the rest of her verbal word vomit from happening as she looked at Quinn for her response.

“Apparently, he felt guilty,” Quinn shrugged. “He left a whole note about it.” 

The trickle of unease she felt yesterday turned into a flooding stream of unease at those words.That couldn’t be a coincidence could it? 

She blurted out her question to Quinn to attempt to rein in her suspicions. “Like Rick the Stick?” 

Quinn raised an eyebrow and looked at Rachel for elaboration. She supposed Quinn hadn’t overheard Kurt and Mercedes' conversation like Rachel had. 

“I heard that he left a note listing his many failings as a decent human being and cited overwhelming guilt as his reason for choosing to commit suicide. Which I must admit does not really seem in character. Honestly, I personally had always thought that years down the lane I would be asked about my perspective as a famous person on my classmate, the serial killer.” 

She shrugged her shoulder and started turning toward her locker to open it before Quinn spoke again. 

“They say it’s never the ones you expect,” Quinn’s lips quirked in a half smile as she spoke. 

“Serial killers?” Rachel responded.

Quinn let out a soft laugh, “That and the ones who commit suicide.”

“I suppose that is true. And while I admit I understand what could drive one to take such an extreme measure,” she didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out. She started talking faster trying to stop Quinn from picking up what she had said. “Rick and Alex just don’t fit the normal profile for ones who would do so, much less within days of each other. I may be overly paranoid, something that I have frequently been accused of but maybe something else is going on.” 

Quinn's eyes moved contemplatively across Rachel's face. Her eyebrows pulled slightly together before softly replying. “Like what?”

“Well that is all I have so far. That something does not seem quite right regarding the events of these last couple of days but I am unsure of what exactly this could be due to or what it could mean.” Rachel opened up her locker and started gathering her books to distract herself from Quinn’s probing eyes. 

“So what do you want to do?” 

She shrugged at Quinn’s question and turned back to face her as she responded. “I will go talk to Ms Holliday but unlike in the past we do not have that much to go on other than my instinct.”

“You have good instincts.” 

She looked into her locker to avert her gaze from Quinn but the rosiness of her cheeks gave away her reaction to Quinn’s comment.

“Well my instincts don’t give us a lot to go on.'' She gave a small shrug while reaching into her locker purposefully not looking at Quinn for her reaction. An announcement came over the loudspeaker interrupting whatever Quinn would have said in response.

“Attention students, attention, please proceed toward the gym for an assembly instead of attending your homeroom classes. I repeat, proceed toward the gym for a school assembly. Thank you.” 

Rachel shut her locker and started walking toward the gym checking that Quinn was accompanying her. 

“What do you think Figgins wants to talk to us about?” She looked over at Quinn as they walked, glad that Figgins announcement allowed the conversation to move on.

“I will hazard a guess that it is to do with the fact that we’ve had two suicides in two days?” Quinn deadpanned and Rachel felt a blush of shame. 

Obviously that would be what it was about. She had been so desperate to move the conversation on before Quinn could ask her questions about her accidental throwaway comment that she had made a fool of herself. 

“Hey,” Mike said as he and Tina joined Rachel and Quinn as they entered the gym. 

Tina didn’t bother with mindless pleasantries and instead jumped straight in with a question, “Did you hear about-'' 

Rachel interrupted Tina before she finished her question “Alex? Yes we have.” 

The gym was rapidly filling with students all conversing amongst themselves as to the reason for the assembly. When Figgins walked over to the microphones he was followed by Ms Pillsbury. 

Mike leaned over and whispered into Rachel’s ear, “Suicide awarness assmbly for ten bucks?” 

Rachel couldn’t help the soft laugh from escaping her as she nodded. She turned her attention to where Principal Figgins had finished taping on the microphone and had started speaking.

“Attention students, many of you may have heard the news regarding Mr Alex Johnathan Hoffman. Last night Mr Hoffman commited suicide in his fathers garage. It is due to these events that I have asked Ms Pillsbury to say some words.” 

Rachel looked around the gym, her eyes tracing the disinterested expressions of her fellow students as Ms Pillsbury attempted to convey the importance of discussing emotions and maintaining connections with friends. The chatter and lack of engagement seemed to amplify, drowning out Ms Pillsbury's well-intentioned words.

It was evident that Ms Pillsbury was swimming in unfamiliar waters, well beyond her comfort zone. Her usually poised demeanor wavered, and Rachel could sense the palpable discomfort radiating from the well-meaning guidance counselor.

Rachel, however, struggled to summon any sympathy for the counselor. How could Ms Pillsbury not perceive the evident disconnection between her advice and the reality of the students' experiences? Talking to friends was supposed to magically cure depression? What about those who didn’t have friends she thought? Or what if someone had bigger problems than a simple talk could fix? Rachel could see how the average joe could think that happiness was a choice but having a teacher in a bullying abundant school preaching the same message was negligent in her opinion. She tuned back in as Ms Pillsbury was wrapping up.

“...remember that you are not alone and that my door is always open.” She half nodded as if unsure how to wrap it up as she backed away from the microphone. 

Principal Figgins walked back up to the microphone and dismissed them.

When AP Calculus finished and the bell rang for lunch time Rachel leaned over to Quinn and informed her that she was going to go speak to Ms Holliday. 

“I’ll come with you.” Quinn said.

Rachel couldn’t help the smile from slipping across her face at Quinn’s words. Being friends with Quinn had been something she wanted since the first time she laid eyes on her. Granted she had wanted to be more than friends for a while but she had accepted that that was never going to happen so just being friends with Quinn was unexpected and enough for her. They ran into Ms Holliday before reaching her office but upon Rachel mentioning that she wanted to talk to her about Slayer related reasons Ms Holliday gestured from them to follow her to her office before talking. 

Once Ms Holliday shut her office door Rachel jumped right into it. She had learnt that Ms Holliday wasn’t one for perfunctory small talk. 

“I find myself unsure that these ‘suicides’ that have been occuring are unrelated to the fact that we are on a hellmouth but as I was telling Quinn we have nothing to go on other than my instinct.”

“A Slayer's instincts are more accurate than most,” Ms Holliday responded as she walked toward her bookcase but rather than pull any books out she stood next to the bookcase and turned to face Rachel. “Think really carefully Rachel and try to explain exactly why something seems off to you.” 

Rachel pondered her thoughts for a moment and when she started to speak it was slow and measured, “Neither Rick or Alex have shown any proclivity for suicidal thoughts or even depressive thoughts.” She looked at Ms Holliday who nodded for her to continue. “I understand depression, I understand guilt, but both occurring at random, unexpectedly with no prior signs? That does not seem possible to me.” Rachel paused. 

That wasn’t the main reason though. What was it exactly that had made her go from uneasy to suspicious? Neither Ms Holliday or Quinn seemed upset by her pausing as they allowed her a moment to gather her thoughts. 

“It is the notes that get me. Yes, um the notes the fact that one leaves a suicide note is nothing unexpected but that two of McKinley’s prime bullies within mere days of one another got filled with such overwhelming guilt of their past actions that not only did this drive them to suicide but it drove them to write down their every indiscretion before hand? I do not accept that.” 

Ms Holliday nodded and this time she did reach into the bookshelf and pull out some books. 

As she placed them down on her desk she spoke. “So based on that information, should the cause of these suicides be supernatural in nature it could either be a vengeance demon or what is known as a iratus spirit. The most likely of those two would be the iratus spirit as vengeance demons tend to be a one and done type of demon whereas iratus spirits can affect multiple people.” 

Rachel walked over to Ms Holliday’s desk and picked up one of the books and flicked through it. Latin. She placed it back down and picked up another one. This time it was in english.

“So…” She looked at Ms Holliday as she spoke and noticed that Quinn had moved up next to her and picked up the Latin book. “What is an iratus spirit?” 

“It’s a person that has died but stays on the earthly realm delivering vengeance.” Ms Holliday shrugged. “Well that’s a very simple way of putting it but those books should describe it better.” 

From next to Rachel, Quinn deadpanned in response, “so a ghost? Didn’t we just deal with ghosts?”

“This isn’t a ghost, it's a spirit. It’s what happens when someone is filled with so much rage upon their death that the rage separates from them and becomes its own entity.” 

Rachel let out a soft mmh at Ms Hollidays words as she placed her book back down on the table and glanced at Quinn where she was staring into her book as if trying to translate it in her head. Come to think of it, that wouldn’t surprise her. 

She looked back up at Ms Holliday and asked the always important question. “So what do I do? How can I get rid of it?” 

Ms Holliday gestured with her head toward the book on the table. 

Rachel let out a soft sigh “Research.” 

Ms Holliday, seeming to take pleasure in her dissatisfaction, let out a smile. Rachel looked back down at her book, starting to scan it before being interrupted by Ms Holliday saying with a soft laugh “shoo,” she gestured towards the door before sitting back down at her desk. 

Rachel smiled back at her before reaching out and tugging on Quinn’s arm from where she was still engrossed in her book towards the door. Quinn looked up and with a sheepish shrug followed her out.  

When they walked out into the hallway it was to the sound of the bell, this time it was Quinn that reached out and tugged her arm to get her attention before she started walking to class. 

“So research....” Quinn trailed off and looked at Rachel but before she could respond Quinn kept speaking. “Do you want to do it after Glee?” Rachel nodded and was about to respond some more before Quinn continued speaking hesitantly. “Do you want to come over to mine? After Glee and then we can patrol afterwards?” 

Rachel glanced around at the rapidly emptying hallway and replied. “That sounds great.” 

The barely restrained smile that Quinn gave her wiped away any doubts that she had regarding what she had agreed to. She gestured down the hallway with her hand.

 "We better head to class. Coach Sylvester has stated she cannot wait to catch me outside during class time, so that she can write me up for being late. I am not giving her the chance.” Quinn nodded at Rachel's words and they split up and headed in opposite directions.

When Rachel slid into her desk next to Tina,Tina leaned over to talk to her after furtively glancing toward the front of the class to ensure that the teacher hadn’t come in yet.

“I saw you and Quinn talking with Ms Holliday earlier. Do you think there's something going on with these suicides?”  

“It is nothing more than a slight unease regarding the situation that will most likely turn out to be nothing.” Rachel responded, not wanting to go into details in the classroom surrounded by eavesdropping ears.

“Can I help?”

“I will be partaking in some minor research but nothing that requires any assistance as of yet.” She glanced at Tina’s face and noticed that she was looking disappointed. Hhowever if anything changes and I do require some assistance I will let you know?” 

Tina nodded at Rachel when she finished talking and then Rachel quickly turned to the front as the teacher walked in. There had been mention of the fact that they would be going over exam relevant information in today’s class and Rachel refused to let her grades slip as a result of her night time activities. The rest of the day passed eventually and before Rachel knew the day was over and she was packing up her things after Glee.

Quinn made her way over to Rachel from where she had been sitting at the back and waited till Rachel was done organising her belongings before she started to leave. Rachel followed Quinn out of the choir room and it was only upon noticing Santana staring at them once more that it struck her.

“What about Santana?” When Quinn turned her head slightly to look at Rachel she used her own head to gesture towards Santana’s antagonistic stare down. “It escaped my thoughts earlier as I was preoccupied with maintaining my tardy free streak but you and Santana live together. How will she feel about me coming over?” 

Quinn didn’t respond straight away until they were out of the choir room and out of Santana’s line of sight.

“Santana has made it very clear that it is my home too and I am not just a guest so if I want to have you over I can but she’s going to Brittany’s now anyway.” 

Rachel nodded and chose to let it go rather than pursue it upon seeing the determined look on Quinn’s face. 

When they reached the car park Quinn turned toward Rachel once more. “Do you need to go to yours first to get your stuff for a patrol?” 

Rachel shook her head. “It is quite alright Quinn I have all my requisite supplies in my bag. I have taken to carrying them with me at all times as one never knows quite when a supernatural emergency will occur and I find myself in need of my equipment.” 

“Okay, I’ll meet you at mine then?” 

When Rachel nodded Quinn headed off towards her car and Rachel followed suit towards hers.

When Rachel parked on the street outside Quinn and Santana's place, Quinn was just getting out of her car in the driveway. Quinn waited for Rachel to catch up before leading the way to the front door. Once inside, Rachel took in the interior of Santana's house,the foyer was adorned with tasteful yet extravagant decor, and the air was infused with a subtle aroma of luxury.

Quinn locked the door behind them, and Santana's residence unfolded before them. The living room, adorned with elegant furnishings, showcased a perfect blend of sophistication and comfort. Soft ambient lighting accentuated the warmth of the space. The Lopez family's affluence was evident in the meticulously curated artwork and the subtle gleam of polished surfaces.

"My room is towards the back," Quinn explained, gesturing down a hallway adorned with family photos and framed achievements. "It used to be the guest room, but now it’s mine."

Rachel followed Quinn down the hallway.

"Her parents are doctors," Quinn added casually. "That’s why they can afford such a nice place. I used to live about three streets down before..." Quinn's voice trailed off, leaving a momentary silence. 

Sensing the need to break it, Rachel spoke up before it lingered uncomfortably.

“I guess Santana was stretching the truth to the extreme all the times she said she was from Lima Heights then.” 

She let out a soft laugh and Quinn nodded as she opened up the door to her room. 

It was Rachel’s first time in Quinn’s room. She had overheard from a conversation between some of the New Directions what Quinn’s room at her parents had looked like but the room she walked into now was nothing like that. It was classy and restrained but Rachel could see traces of Quinn throughout the room: the pile of books on the bedside table, the framed photo of Santana, Brittany and Quinn next to another photo of Quinn in the hospital holding Beth on the windowsill and the Cheerios letterman draped over the back of Quinn’s desk chair. Little things that showed that this was Quinn’s room, a room just for her and not for the performance of being a perfect daughter.  

She looked up and saw Quinn smiling at her. The back of her neck felt hot at the thought that Quinn had noticed her examining her room. Quinn dropped her back pack on the floor next to her desk and unceremoniously dropped to the floor next to it. 

Rachel stood near the edge of the room, watching as Quinn knelt beside her bed and reached into her backpack. From it, she pulled the Latin textbook that Ms Holliday had distributed during their last training session. When Quinn looked up and caught Rachel still standing there, she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head meaningfully toward the floor.

Rachel took the hint and sank to the carpet beside Quinn’s bed, settling against the frame. She slipped off her bag and opened it slowly, the worn zipper hissing in the quiet. One by one, she pulled out her notebooks and textbooks, arranging them neatly on the floor in front of her.

They studied in silence for nearly an hour, the only sounds in the room the occasional rustle of paper and the soft turning of pages. The sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, casting warm, shifting shadows across the carpet. Rachel had just been underlining a particularly obscure passage when Quinn spoke her name.

“Rachel.”

The sound broke her concentration. She looked up, blinking as she adjusted to Quinn’s voice after the long stretch of silence.

“I think we need to approach this from a different angle,” Quinn said. She closed her book and glanced across at Rachel, waiting.

Rachel tilted her head. “Oh? Why is that?”

“I feel like I’ve gotten everything I can out of this one.” Quinn tapped the cover of her textbook. “How about you?”

Rachel considered the notes she had jotted in her journal, the dozens of carefully highlighted lines in the margins of her book, and nodded. “I would say that that is correct on my end as well.”

Quinn gave a small, thoughtful nod. “Then maybe we tell each other what we’ve found. See if anything overlaps or sparks a new lead. Sound good?”

Rachel agreed with a quick nod, but Quinn only gestured toward her, waiting expectantly.

Apparently, she was meant to go first.

Rachel exhaled and straightened her back, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “The information I obtained from this text,” she said, nudging the book resting near her knee, “clarifies the overview we were given by Ms Holliday. An iratus spirit, as she described, is someone who has died but whose soul partially separates upon death. That part of the soul remains on Earth, driven by vengeance.”

Quinn didn’t interrupt, just leaned back slightly and shifted to sit more comfortably, her gaze attentive.

Rachel felt encouraged by the lack of judgment at her slow pace of setting the scene and continued, “Ms Holliday emphasized that an iratus spirit is different from a ghost. Though, if I may speak frankly, I see little practical difference.” She gave a small shrug, and Quinn let out a soft, surprised laugh.

Rachel smiled in return and pressed on. “The key point that wasn’t mentioned is that the spirit’s vengeance is almost always tied to either the cause of their death, the root of their anger, or both.”

She paused, watching Quinn’s face for a reaction. Quinn gave another nod and reached for her notepad, flipping through a few pages before responding.

“That matches what I’ve got too,” Quinn said. “Except I also found something about how to get rid of them. Did you find anything on that?”

Rachel shook her head.

Quinn’s gaze dropped to her notes. “Much like with Tina it’s only useful once we identify who the iratus spirit was. We either have to force them out or calm them enough to let them pass on and reunite with the rest of their soul.”

Rachel’s brow furrowed in thought. “Then it seems like our next step should be identifying the spirit.”

Quinn nodded, and Rachel flipped to a fresh page in her notebook.

“I propose we look for a common thread between Rick and Alex. If we can determine what ties their deaths together, we might be able to trace it back to the spirit responsible.” She uncapped a pen and began writing quickly, her fingers moving with practiced ease.

Quinn was quiet for a moment, then said, “Aside from the obvious similarity in the cause of death, I’d say the common thread is guilt. Both of them seemed deeply remorseful about the bullying.”

Rachel nodded slowly. “If we say the connecting factors are suicide and guilt over bullying, then we should look into any deaths in the last ten years that match those conditions.” She glanced down to her notes, checking for confirmation. “Ten years is the maximum amount of time an iratus spirit can go undetected.”

Quinn sat up straighter. “I’ll check to see if I can find anything.”

She stood and moved to her desk, grabbing her laptop. The soft hum of it powering on filled the quiet space as she settled back down onto the floor.

Rachel watched her for a moment. Quinn’s brow furrowed in concentration as she typed, her fingers gliding smoothly across the keys. Rachel found herself smiling faintly, then quickly looked away and pulled out her own laptop.

By the time an hour passed, the silence had settled into something companionable. Books lay scattered across the carpet, highlighters sat uncapped, and both girls had retreated into their research.

“I have something,” Quinn said suddenly, breaking the quiet.

Rachel looked up. “Already?”

“I found a list of suicides in Lima in the last ten years,” Quinn explained. “Compiled from news archives and obituaries.”

Rachel arched a brow. “They keep a list?”

Quinn smirked faintly. “I made one. Pieced it together from articles.”

Now that made more sense.

She crawled over and knelt beside Quinn. “Can I see?”

Quinn nodded and turned the laptop so Rachel could look.

“I organized them by year,” Quinn said, pointing to the screen, “and added any additional information I could find in that column.”

Rachel leaned in to get a better look. The list was neatly formatted, each row labeled and color-coded. “This is really impressive, Quinn.”

A pink tint spread across Quinn’s cheeks, and she dropped her eyes to the screen. “Thanks.”

“Can you send it to me?”

Quinn gave another small nod, and Rachel rose to retrieve her laptop. A soft ping alerted her a moment later that the email had arrived. She smiled at Quinn, then settled into her own spot and opened the file.

“Maybe we start researching the people on your list,” Rachel suggested hesitantly. “See if any names stand out or line up with Ms Holliday’s timelines.”

Quinn looked up and met her gaze. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

The quiet returned as they both leaned over their laptops, scrolling through the names of the dead. Each girl worked in silence, but it wasn’t heavy or strained. It was focused. Intent. For now, they were in sync. And Rachel, surrounded by notes and screens and the occasional sound of keys tapping, allowed herself to believe that maybe they could do this.

Maybe, just maybe, they were on the right path.

The door to the bedroom swung open so fast it slammed into the wall with a dull thud, startling both Rachel and Quinn. Their heads snapped up from the open books and scattered notes on the floor, the quiet of their research broken in an instant.

Santana stood in the doorway, her eyes immediately locking onto Rachel. Her body tensed, caught off guard by the unexpected sight. Her voice cut through the room like a blade.

“Quinn,” she said sharply, not taking her eyes off Rachel. “What is she doing here?”

She stepped fully into the room, moving to stand between them and effectively blocking Quinn from Rachel’s view. Her presence filled the space like a storm cloud.

“I invited her,” Quinn replied calmly, her tone quiet but unwavering.

Rachel winced internally. She knew that tone wouldn't pacify Santana. If anything, it would provoke her further.

Santana’s eyes narrowed. “My house is a Troll-free zone. I want her out.” She kept her glare on Quinn, but her arm shot out, finger pointed directly at Rachel as if she were something offensive that had crawled in uninvited.

Rachel sat up a little straighter, bracing herself. She couldn’t see Quinn’s expression from where she sat, but she could feel the weight of Santana’s fury pressing against her chest.

“This is my house too, isn’t it?” Quinn’s voice remained soft, but there was no mistaking the steel beneath it.

For a brief moment, Santana faltered. Her shoulders dropped slightly, her expression flickering with something more complicated than anger.

“Of course it is,” she said, quieter now.

But the softness evaporated in an instant. Santana’s eyes landed back on Rachel with renewed heat.

“I want Rachel here,” Quinn said firmly, her voice final.

Santana looked between the two of them, her jaw tightening. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out. The slam of the door echoed off the walls, making Rachel flinch.

Quinn gave her a sheepish look, the corners of her mouth twitching apologetically before she dropped her gaze back to her laptop. Rachel hesitated, watching Quinn carefully, before returning her focus to her own notes.

They returned to their research without speaking, but the air between them had changed, prickled by the aftershock of Santana’s interruption. After a few minutes, Quinn cleared her throat and sat back.

“We should probably eat something before patrol.”

Dinner was as strained as Rachel had expected. She sat stiffly at the table, caught between Santana’s alternating glares and sharp glances toward Quinn. Quinn, for her part, avoided Santana’s eyes altogether, choosing instead to answer Santana’s parents’ questions with clipped politeness. The parents seemed oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface. They chatted amicably with Rachel, asking about school and complimenting her posture, clearly trying to make her feel welcome.

Rachel nodded and smiled at their kindness, all while counting down the seconds until it would be socially acceptable to leave.

When Quinn finally excused them with a polite, “We’re going to take a walk before Rachel heads home,” Rachel could have melted with relief. She pushed back from the table quickly and followed Quinn down the hallway without another word.

Back in Quinn’s room, Rachel collected her things while Quinn gathered their research into a stack and set it on her desk. From the top drawer, Quinn pulled out the wooden stake Rachel had given her on their first patrol together. She held it for a second, as if weighing its importance, before slipping it into the waistband of her jeans.

Rachel reached for her own stake and tucked it into her back pocket. She zipped her bag closed and adjusted the strap on her shoulder as Quinn moved toward the door.

When they stepped into the hallway, Santana called out to them from the kitchen, her voice sharp and expectant. Quinn didn’t slow down or turn her head.

“Not now, Santana,” she said curtly, and pushed open the front door.

Rachel stepped outside behind her and took a deep breath, letting the crisp night air clear some of the tension that had been wrapped around her shoulders like a wire.

“Is…” Rachel paused as the door shut behind them. “Is Santana going to keep being upset about this?”

She glanced over, catching the profile of Quinn’s face in the dim streetlight. Quinn didn’t respond immediately, just let out a long sigh.

It wasn’t until they were halfway down the block, their steps falling into rhythm, that Quinn finally spoke.

“I’ll talk to her,” she said quietly. “It’s not fair to you.”