Chapter Text
"You obviously cannot use that ball, Q." Rachel heaved her own yellow bowling ball onto her lap. While she used disinfecting wipes on her fingers, Rachel's eyes lingered on Q. She had on that ripped, black plaid shirt that Rachel was not fond of, and her hair was wild. It was not as if Q looked bad, it was just that she looked so much like Q and not at all like Quinn. Quinn didn't wear her makeup that dark, nor did she leave her hair totally and completely uncombed.
"Stop staring," Q bit out. She side-eyed Rachel to the point where Rachel looked away in discomfort. Then Q grinned. "And as a matter of fact, I can use this ball. I am the pink queen, and I am going to use the pink ball."
Rachel snorted under her breath as she proceeded to disinfect the entire bowling ball. "It's 18 pounds. I'm aware that I'm not yet a bowling expert, but I know enough to know that is too heavy." She chose to ignore the pink queen comment. Q did equal Queen, after all. Rachel just made a mental note to ask Quinn about that when she got back.
When Rachel snapped herself out of her thoughts, Q still hadn't taken her turn. Her arms were cradling the overweight bowling ball, and her eyes were glued to Rachel. Rachel's eyes widened in surprise, and with a little bit of fear. It was never good to have Q's full attention. "May I help you with something?"
Q's dark eyes flickered around the mostly-deserted bowling alley. Then she shook her head in the negative. "Do you realize how much time we've spent together, Caterpillar, while Alice sleeps?"
Rachel subtly dipped her head to one side. "We have spent quite a bit of time together, yes."
"I would even go so far as to say that we've become acquaintances."
Rachel was in the middle of a small smile when she realized that deserved a frown. "What do you mean 'acquaintances'?" she asked, affronted. Q sat down on the blue plastic chair next to her. She hadn't taken her turn, but neither of them were exactly in a hurry.
When her eyes met Rachel's, she could see that Q's attention and intentions were far beyond a simple conversation in a Lima bowling alley. Rachel's eyes flickered back and forth between Q's. She'd never thought anyone could look into her eyes as soul-searchingly as Quinn could, but then she met Q. "You honestly can't consider us friends."
"And why not?"
"Because you hate me," Q said through laughter. When she was met with Rachel's confused expression, Q frowned. Her face immediately darkened and she realized she was being too nice to Rachel. That had to be the only explanation as to why she was confused. "I'm Quinn's alter; the superior one that will eventually control her. You, on the other hand, are the girl who just so happens to love Quinn. Are you following now, Caterpillar?"
Rachel lifted only her eyes. "You're insane." Her voice was strong enough to make Q falter. Rachel had never spoken so openly about the disorder with Q; not nearly like she did with Quinn. Then Q was hit with a sudden, blinding rage towards this stupid, loser girl who only tolerated her because her other half was Quinn. Always Quinn. It always went back to Quinn, and by association, for some reason, Rachel. When everything boiled down and the storm calmed, it always came back to Quinn and Rachel. The part that enraged Q was there was no room for her in that equation.
Her anger quelled as she looked down into Rachel's furious eyes. Well, at least she had hit a spark there. Making Rachel mad was quite the guilty pleasure for Q. "Keep your temper," Q said absently. Her own temper had been buried back down where it belonged. It wasn't time for that yet. "Insanity, pure and simple. Isn't it beautiful? This, little Rabbit, is why we can never be friends."
Reluctantly, Rachel tore her gaze away.
Gardenias. That was it. That was the smell of Quinn's shampoo. Rachel finally placed it.
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"Run," Quinn whispered. "Run!" This time Quinn screamed it at the top of her lungs. But the girl couldn't hear her. Only Q could, and Q was ignoring her. Or maybe Q couldn't even hear her. The sound of the mud squishing under her boots was sickening. The constant slap even made Q queasy. She drove her shovel deep into the ground and took a moment to breathe. Without much effort, she pushed Quinn back down to silence her. Q hadn't wanted Quinn to see it. Q hadn't wanted to do it. However, therapy hadn't been going well lately, and all of the anger building inside of their body was overwhelming. Flashbacks of the summer had been haunting her. Her father's hands coming down onto her mother. The harmonic sound her mother's wine glass made as it shattered to a million pieces onto the hardwood floor. The way the knife had glistened under the florescent kitchen lights. The way her mother had looked at her after.
Q was Quinn and Quinn was Q. Q hated Quinn, but she didn't want to make her worse. After all, they were one. So, Q had killed two birds with one stone that night; she'd taken out a lot of the anger boiling in her veins and…. Q shook her head. If she thought too much about it then Quinn would hear who the victim had been. That wasn't relevant anymore.
The low hum of Frank Sinatra's "That's Life" played through the headphones in her ears as she picked the shovel back up and started adding more mud to the grave. It was a shallow grave on the outskirts of town. As Q dropped down onto her knees to use her hands and smooth out the grave, she let out a ragged breath.
"I'm not a monster," she whispered. The sky was beginning to turn light overhead, but she didn't rush herself. This needed to be said. The girl lying in the grave beneath Q's hands deserved to hear this. "I didn't want to do this. I never wanted it to come to this. I tried to make it as painless for you as possible," she added. It had been true. Her knife strokes had been quick, and the girl had barely screamed. Q had caught her completely off guard.
She wasn't sure if it was Quinn coming through, or the fact that she really wasn't the monster Quinn thought she was, but Q teared up. Perhaps that came with the territory of taking someone's life. An actual human. God. There hadn't exactly been a guidebook on this.
And to this day, Q couldn't tell you if it had been herself or Quinn who had laid the single pink rose on the wet earth over the grave.
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Quinn woke up in a panic. She immediately looked down at her own hands in horror. There had been a murder. She had committed a murder. Quinn didn't know who, or how, but it had been done. Q had covered her tracks well because when Quinn woke up she had been scrubbed clean and the clothes from the night before were nowhere to be found. She was sleeping peacefully in her bed when her mother came in to wake her up for school.
"Rachel," Quinn whispered under her breath. She needed to get to Rachel. Her hazel eyes were wide as she ran a frantic hand through her hair and fumbled for her phone. Quinn groaned when Rachel's phone went to voicemail. She would just have to catch her at school.
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"Have you seen Rachel?"
Santana's eyes immediately darkened before she remembered she wasn't supposed to care about Rachel. "Nope."
"It's third period and I haven't been able to find her anywhere," Quinn said with desperation tinting her voice. She sounded pathetic enough for Santana to roll her eyes, slam her locker shut, and turn to face her.
"Maybe she's avoiding your crazy ass. Maybe Berry finally wised up enough to dump you because she got tired of spending her dates at the Lima asylum," Santana snapped.
Quinn's eyebrow shot up in perfect sync with her lips parting in shock. "Excuse me? Rachel and I were never dating and-"
"Could've fooled me," Santana mumbled, "But good. Rachel could do better."
"You know what," Quinn bit out, holding up her hands in surrender. "Forget it. I'll find her myself. Thanks for all your wonderful help."
"Brittany! Hey, have you seen-"
"I'm not allowed to talk to you," Brittany said, looking apologetic.
Quinn snapped her mouth shut and closed her eyes tightly. "I just need to know if you've seen Rachel, Britt."
Brittany glanced around the halls in worry before tugging at the hem of her Cheerio's skirt. "I haven't seen her all day. But I usually try to avoid being seen in the same hall as her anyway so, you know."
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By lunchtime, Quinn was on the verge of having a panic attack. She was doing everything in her power to not push herself over the edge and end up with a migraine, but she couldn't find Rachel. A million possibilities were running through her head as she flew through the McKinley hallways. Finally, she came face-to-face with Finn.
"What?" he grumbled, pulling his lunch out of his locker.
"Have you seen Rachel?" Quinn asked. Her chest was tight and her voice was full of hope. Until Finn shook his head.
"I'm not her boyfriend anymore, remember? Usually someone just looks for you if they want to find her," Finn snapped bitterly. He shut his locker and turned towards the cafeteria.
Quinn, completely distraught, stood alone in the hallway. It wasn't until she turned around and saw Rachel that she started to cry.
"Quinn?" Rachel questioned, worry in her voice. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"You're here," Quinn whispered. She reached out to hug Rachel, but stopped herself. Something about Rachel seemed off. Instead, Quinn took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest. "I-I couldn't find you. I need to talk to you, Rachel. I need you." Quinn's voice cracked from her tears, and Rachel's expression fell.
"Of course, Quinn. I'm right here. What's wrong? It's okay. It's just us in the hallway. You can tell me."
Quinn glanced around nervously before her terrified, tear-filled eyes found Rachel's again. They were completely alone. Quinn was taking comfort from having Rachel in front of her; her heart was finally beating normally again. "I…I think I murdered someone last night," Quinn whispered while never taking her eyes from Rachel's.
Rachel's eyes widened and her eyebrows rose. Her lips parted like she was going to say something, but she didn't. Instead, Rachel stood completely still and processed this information. It was long enough that Quinn noticed Rachel was still wearing the same clothes she had been in the day before, which wasn't like Rachel at all.
When her eyes lifted again, she saw how calm Rachel looked. Rachel was just gazing at her, and it completely calmed Quinn. How Rachel was taking the news so well was beyond Quinn, especially since she was a complete wreck. Still, Rachel reached out and took Quinn's hand. "Come on, Quinn. I know where we need to go."
And Quinn followed Rachel without question.
And in the end, Quinn would follow Rachel into the Hell her mother warned her about before placing a small golden cross necklace against Quinn’s throat.