Glee 1. Changes

**AN - This is an edited and improved version of I Broke It. The shitty original is going to be deleted when this is caught up. Also I'm totally holding out for Uni acceptance right now. Annd due to my lack of ownership of Glee, no copyright infringement intended.**

Today hurts, that's the only way to describe it. My eyes ache, I'm sweating like a motherfucker and my stomach is churning. Basically it's like the worst hangover ever. I try to sit up, but can't manage to with the pounding in my head, it feels like someone took an electric beater to my brains. So I just lie there and moan. Looking through cracked eyelids I'm pretty sure I'm in Brittany's room. The bed shifts and suddenly Brittany is leaning over me. What the fuck, how did I not notice her there, oh she's speaking guess I should see what's she is doing here, other than creeping me the fuck out with her intense staring.

"Hey Quinn, baby, what do you remember about yesterday? "

Baby? Shit that's new. Clearly I'm missing something important.

"Um... I... We... Picnic?"

"Yup, that was lunch. Do you remember anything after that?"

Fuck off given this hangover (it has to be a hangover, huge amounts of alcohol is the only explanation for Brittany and I in this single bed together) I'm proud to know my name right now. Shit, I just zoned out and now she is looking at me all weird. "Quinn? You ok? After yesterday there will be ... Problems. So, ah, tell me if you are feeling, I don't know. Off I guess"

"Problems, you mean like Santana murdering me for sleeping with her girlfriend?"

"Ex"

When I look back, that is the word that marks the end of my neat life.

I remember. I remember Brittany calling me. I remember her sobbing on the phone asking, begging more like for me to meet her at the park.

Yesterday

I'm sitting there at a crappy wooden table. In a crappy park, next to a crappy little playground in the middle of a crappy field. Brittany is late and guess what? I'm in a crappy mood. Mum is drinking already today and it isn't even noon yet. I look at the table it's covered in obscene graffiti and I'm considering adding to it if Brittany doesn't show soon. I've decided on Finn sux balls and I'm thinking it'll go pretty well next to the engraved cock. Just as I find a pen I hear a noise. It's a quiet rumble that quickly turns into a roar as a single motocross bike rocks up. Normally these guys travel in packs for the extra attention. I'm apprehensive as it stops next to my table and the rider kills the engine I am so not in the mood to be hit on today. They pull off the helmet and shake out long blonde hair.

"Holy shit! Brittany?"

What the fuck is she doing in control of a motor vehicle, I mean as much I like her she is a bit too simple for me to feel comfortable letting her near machinery.

"Hey Quinn," she says after leaning her bike against the table, " thanks so much for meeting me on short notice. I didn't have anyone else to turn to."

"What about Santana?" Surely she would go to her girlfriend with any problems. Santana has gotten so much more supportive since she came out. She is even there for Kurt and Rachel's problems. Shit. Yep, I can see the tears forming in her eyes even as she says it.

"She dumped me, she said something about how there was no way she could trust me after." Brittany trails off choking back a sob.

"After what Brit?"

"After, after," her shoulders slumped, "After I abused her trust by never letting her know me."

What? I'm confused Brittany is sweet and simple, she would never intentionally deceive Santana. I'm clearly missing a vital point of this story but I open my arms and hug her motocross gear and all. She sobs into my shoulder and we stand there awhile in the quiet park.

Finally she stops. "Anyway, I came to you because you are my best friend. And you are great at the whole denial thing and I sooo don't want to deal today."

"Um ok." I am unsure if that is an insult or not.

"So I bring sandwiches, and then after I thought maybe I could teach you to ride my bike."

"Sandwiches yes, bike hell to the fucking NO."

There is no way I'm letting a simpleton get me on a death trap, I watched Xgames with Puck when I lived at his house. Travis Pastrana dislocated his spine on that shit. Fuck that. And what was that about me being queen of denial? I'm about to rip into her when I see the tears she is just holding back.

"I'll think about the bike after the picnic ok?"

She smiles shakily, "PB and J ok?"

"Sounds good"

She pulls off her motocross armour and un-tucks the top, catching a pair of cling wrapped sandwiches before they hit the ground. Awesome, looks like squashed stomach sweat sammies for lunch.

The sandwiches are long gone and we have gotten bored watching clouds. She is looking at the bike, but I have doubts. Big ones.

"Hey Brit, don't you need a license for that?"

"Nope, it's off road recreational. Besides I have a full for car, bike and heavy vehicle."

I'm confused as to how, because as far as I knew she wasn't allowed behind the wheel of anything. Something of my confusion must have showed on my face because she elaborated. "Look it's a long story, I'll tell you sometime but, Santana found my license and that's where the questions started"

Her lip quivers and she looks down, I don't push it.

"So, bike?"

Fuck. I'm stuck now.

"Sure."

It took about an hour but I got the hang of it. I'm now zooming about the kiddie park at a solid 10mph. She is right this is the shit. I look back at her and she waves back. I'm glad her helmet fit but it seems to limit my vision a bit.

I decide to show off a bit and cut closer to the playground. Shit there is an old bit of concrete foundation hidden the grass. I panic and go for the front brakes smashing the accelerated in my panic. I hit the lump at considerably more than 10mph and fly forward off the bike and into the base

of the old metal slide. There is searing pain, then nothing.

Present

Brittany is still there just watching me. Her blue eyes staring straight into mine watching me process the day before. I rip the blanket up. I realize two things at once, the first being all I'm wearing is briefs, briefs that are stained with blood down the side. Above that side is the second thing that caught my attention. Stitches. A fuckton of stitches. Brittany gets up and grabs a t shirt from her drawers while I'm still shitting it about my side. Being pretty much naked in my best friends' ex's bed is small potatoes next to the 100+ stitches running in a jagged spider web from armpit to hip. It looks knarly as and I feel instantly queasy. She pulls off the cover and passes me the t shirt. I vaguely register it as a school PE top before she says,

"We need to have a little chat."

This time when I try to sit up I can. It is insane pain but somehow I know it should be more. As the blanket slips to sit at my waist I see four equally spaced puncture marks in a squared about a half inch wide under my left breast.

"Fuck, the last thing I remember is coming off. Why am I not in hospital, does my mum know where I am, what happened to me? How many stitches is that?" I have way more questions including why am I nearly naked but those seem the most pertinent at the moment.

I look at Brittany, she seems calm. How the fuck is she calm? I take a deep breath to start asking more questions and her eyes flick down before she looks at the wall.

" If you put that top on I can start trying to answer your questions."

Once I struggle through that Herculean task I clear my throat to indicate she can look back. After that first outburst I'm freaking out. If I got stitches I went to hospital , I'm 17 so mum would have had to sign me out for the discharge so why am I here. Here being half naked in Brittany's bed. I look at her and am relieved to see that she at least has pjs on. This would be much more awkward if she was also nakedish.

"The first thing I need to say is sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen. I'm going to make this as easy as I can for you, but I won't lie there is no way it's gonna be easy."

"What..."

"Quinn, this is gonna take a while and it would be good for you to just listen. Ok. So I guess the start would be my lie to Santana."

As she says this she sits back at on the bed facing me but not really looking at me. I nod for her to continue because if I want answers clearly I have to do this her way. Too injured to consider beating it out of her anyway.

"I'm smart, like insanely smart. Haven't you ever wondered why I've never been held back? I guess being blonde helped ah, distract people from that but really, it should be obvious something is up. Recently I started being as stupid as possible but even then, Santana just supported me and everyone else just mocked me. In reality I had a high school level by the time I was 7, college by 11 and I'm about a year or so off my pHd in genetic modification. The point I'm going for here is that when I saw you dying,"

"There is no fucking way I was dying, I have stitches and a headache!"

She shakes her head " You were dying Quinn, your skull had a dent, your ribs were split like a ripped fence and I had to push your digestive system back into the hole in your side. Grossest thing ever by the way. But, we are friends, you gave up your plans to help when you didn't know what was wrong, you have always been there for me. I panicked I'd forced you onto that bike. I didn't want you dying because of me. So I saved you."

"Saved me how?" It's official Brittany is insane. It is the only possible explanation, well that or I'm high as fuck tripping on hospital grade pain killers.

"I um, fixed your ribs and stitched your side up. Then maybe sort of ..." she trails off and looks at the ground.

"Sort of what, Brittany?" I'm starting to get the feeling this isn't a poor taste practical joke. Shit she is still staring at the floor, "What the fuck did you do?" I start hyper ventilating, I'm working my way to a full blown panic attack when she looks up startled at my condition. She moves quickly, pushes me onto my back, leans over me and starts kissing me. She pushes her tongue into my mouth owning the kiss. With her hands running through my hair, her breasts pushed into mine I forget my side and her crazy story. If I'm being totally honest in that moment I couldn't tell you my name. It is the single most intense moment of my life.

She pulls back and looks at me. It's weird, I have never thought of her or any chick that way, but I'm less freaked out than I think I should be. As she pulls back my hand follows her, Brittany gently intercepts before I reach her side and she places it next to me. OK so only on her terms.

"Sorry, I just can't afford for you to panic. It was the easiest way to distract you. But just please don't freak out." My panic is starting to rise again, but I really need to find out what is happening so I squash it. She is watching me closely now. Everything now seems so surreal that I don't think I'm gonna freak again.

"I sort of maybe injected you with the experiment that I am basing my pHd off. My pHd that is being funded by a military science program."

"I don't get it"

"Um we, and by we I mean the research program I've been working with to develop this product, we have been working to make super soldiers."

WTF? "Super soldiers...?"

"You know smarter, harder, faster, stronger?" I must still look confused because she sighs, "Basically better. But the problem is it is all totally experimental. And the experiment is problematic."

"So... Now what?" Now I'm feeling ill(er), I can tell from the way she has been looking at me there must be more to this.

"Well, we have to keep it hidden because we are years away from human trial. But also the problem is we don't know any of the effects for sure, we predict that most subjects are most likely to suffer heightened aggression and sex drive. That's good in a soldier, but will be terrible for you. The kicker is though, the news laws that are currently being developed about these issuses, they are gonna classify altered people as ah, subhuman."

Fuck, yesterday I was head cheerleader today I am fucking subhuman. Fuck.

"You will be ok, but it's going to be a few changes in your life, biggest one being you're going to live here now."

"What?" I like my house, my mum let me move back in, it's strained but still.

"And the changes to your body will really kick in."

"Woah, slow down you can't control my life like this." I don't like this I want to pinch myself to wake myself up, this has to be fucking bullshit. I start to hyperventilate again. This time Brittany isn't quick enough and I start to seize and thrash. For the second time in two days my world goes black.

I open my eyes, I don't recognise this room. It's cold and white, the only lighting is a commercial fluorescent fitting directly above the bed. Bed might be an exaggeration as its more like an operating table. I go to roll over and realize I'm strapped down to it. There is straps over my ankles, wrists, a large one over my hips and an additional one on my right upper arm to keep it still. It seems to be to prevent me jerking the drip out of my arm.

I hear a noise to my right and look over, turns out the room I'm in is split in two by a set of bars, sort of like the drunk tank. The noise is on the other side of the bars. It's Brittany at a computer, I can't make out what's on the screen she is working on, the secondary one has Facebook up. She spins on an office chair,

"And right on time, fuck I'm good at this game," she grins " there has been some changes, as I'm sure you have noticed." She waves indicating the cell and bed I'm in. "Welcome to your new room. You live here now. Your life belongs to me."

"What!" I scream and thrash. The straps give a bit but hold for now. She trying to look sorry but I'm not buying it. "You have been in an induced coma for a month. In that time I got clearance to own you once the you are classified as subhuman and got custody off your mum due to my unique position of being able to watch you at school and sedate or restrain you at need. If you were wondering your mums gone to Florida or some shit."

That's it. Words can't describe my anger at this. I tense everything and just move. The straps rip and I'm reaching through the bars trying to grab her. Don't know what I'm going to do once I have her but I can tell you it'll fucking hurt. Pieces, I'm thinking lots and lots of little pieces until this room is red.

She is now leaning against the bench completely calm. There is no way I can reach her and we both know it. I sit down on the now fucked bed, my world is fucked. I finger one of the straps that I snapped like cotton thread. It's a half inch thick.

"I don't understand how this happened, I had it all. I was happy and healthy and lived at home and"

Brit cuts across me with "And now you are not even a person," she gives me a sad smile, "the sooner you come to terms with the new restrictions of your life, the sooner you can get over it and rejoin society."

I turn away and lie back down on the bed facing the wall.

"I'll be back later, I guess that's enough for now." she leaves, turning the lights off as she goes. I shut my eyes and pretend I'm anywhere else. I fall asleep thinking of sunny days on the football pitch cheering with Santana.

I wake up and sigh, not a shit dream, I am still lying on a bed in a cell. I give a mental shrug at least I'm alive, I could be dead, or in a wheelchair, or a vegetable. But instead I'm lying on a shitty bed in what appears to be Brittany's basement. I remember my side and rub the skin under the t shirt. I can feel the scars. But no stitches. I'm bored. And if Brittany is to be believed I've been sleeping for a month solid anyway. With that thought I get up and swing my legs off the bed, without the adrenaline pumping I'm a little shaky standing but I can deal. With my hands in front of me I stagger to the bars.

"Brittany," I call, "I'm ready to talk now. I don't even want to kill you after my nap or anything." I repeat myself louder and louder until I hear a noise outside the door. I sit back on the bed and wait for her to open the door. The light goes back on before the door opens. Weird. The door opens slowly and I can see a tazer in Brit's hand as she comes back in. She shrugs sheepishly,

"Just making sure you weren't waiting under the desk"

"Brit those inch thick steel bars are a wee bit of a deterrent don't you think?"

"I have no fucking idea anymore."

Oh. As I process this information she sits and watches me. "Can I tell you my plan for not fucking up your life anymore than we can help?" This is a complete 180 from her earlier behaviour.

"Sure."

"Well you missed the last few weeks of school, so we have a few months to sort this out. Basically everyone at school was told you're in a medically induced coma. You don't need to talk to them 'til you go back. And with enough exercise and some kind of restrictor you should be manageable."

"So..."

"Basically, you will live in my basement for the next year or so. Gonna get no privacy because there is a camera in here, but hey could be worse. Once we get you stabilised, no mood swings and figure out any side effects we can turn the cameras off. Maybe even decorate in here. By the time school starts again you should be close enough to normal for things to be ok." She pauses, she wavers, then she breaks. Her shoulders slump forward as she leans back against the door. Her body starts shaking so she hugs herself trying to suck it up. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. " I pause because I hadn't thought of the guilt she had been carrying. If I blame her then she totally blames her too. She is full out bawling right now and even through my anger and fear I don't feel right just watching. I walk forward and stick my arms through the bars.

"Come here, I won't bite," She looks up with a weird mix of relief and fear on her face. I can sort of guess what she is thinking but to be honest my life was fucked before. I can't say happy about my new situation but at least I'm alive. She seems to care, and fuck she can't be a worse care giver than an absentee alcoholic.

I sigh because she hasn't moved towards me, she has just sort of fallen on the ground and is crying harder in foetal position. "Look I promise not to murder you. Just come over here and get a hug so I don't have to break these bars to shut you up," I grab the bars and pretend to pull, "nope these seem solid, you will have to come here for a hug."

She surprises me when she unlocks the cage, steps in and shuts the door. "Seriously how don't you hate me?"

"Well to be totally honest this situation is so fucked I can't totally believe it's happening. And you know I feel bad watching you cry, it does screwy things to my insides." Bitch fake cried for years to get San and I to do things she wanted, apparently real crying works even better.

Brittany just falls into my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder and just starts sobbing. I'm not really listening to all the sorrys, I am way more interested in her pretty pretty hair.  
"Wow, you smell nice," the words just tumble out of my mouth. She stiffens but I just hold her in my hug. I sniff her hair, I vaguely know I'm being creepy but damn. Her smell is totally intoxicating. Her hands slip slowly down my body in complete contrast to the rest of her body language. With her body pressed against mine I'm not thinking about much.  
Her hand slips between the two of us, I definitely like where this is going. When her other hand is between my boobs I let her go, give her control to run this show. Suddenly she pushes real hard and I stumble back. Her other hand comes up. I vaguely register a can before searing pain. I bring my hands up and start rubbing my eyes. I'm totally rolling on the floor holding my face. With my eyes and nose streaming I don't notice her leave the cage and then the room.

I do hear her come back in a few minutes later. By now I'm sitting up and am no longer touching my face due to a half remembered story about not rubbing it in.  
"Holy shit!" Brittany exclaims, "you're ok already?"  
Seriously maybe she is retarded, how the fuck is this anywhere near ok? In response to her amazingly stupid question I stand and lurch to the bars thrusting my right arm through swinging mostly blindly for her face.  
"Sorry, from a detached point of view that was a legitimate observation," she stays by the door appears to think for a few seconds. "I think you may be a bit worked up for me to want to do this, so instead I'll give you the container and you can rinse your own eyes ok?" I just growl and swing my arm out again. She slaps a bottle into my hand. "Now just tip your head back and rinse."

I follow the instructions and it's instant relief. I now feel less angry without the insane pain. "Sorry." we both say it at the same time. I try again "What is this?" I wave the milk bottle and then gently place it outside the bars. I go back to sit on my bed. Basically I'm trying to be as non threatening as possible.

Brittany laughs, "It's milk and gasoline. Pretty sweet combination. To be totally honest I was surprised you weren't still thrashing on the ground. I was expecting to have to sedate you to clean that shit out."

"Alright, what was That then?" my voice dropped an octave or so and she takes a step back at the threat in my voice.

"Ah, super strength pepper spray, like it has an 80% chance of eye damage and is likely to start eating the eyes if left for more than 10 min". She opens her hands and spreads them wide as a gesture of peace. "I knew on you it would just hurt, but the amount of functionality you had was ridiculous."

I don't know how to react to that. The burning in my eyes was quite possibly the worst pain I have ever felt in my life and she was expecting it to be worse. Not cool. But on the other hand she must have had a reason right? Oh yea, me being a creepy fuck. If I think about it from her perspective then maybe I would have reacted the same. But in my defence she kissed me first.

"Quinn? I'm sorry. I should have asked you to let me go, instead of just panicking. I guess I just freaked," She is watching me again like jockeys watch spooked horses.  
I huff but drop my shoulders and line back onto the bed.

"I understand I guess. What I was wondering was why you smell good Brit, god your smell is, is... I don't know intoxicating I guess." She looks at me and just starts to laugh. A proper laugh this time.

"Oh Quinn, it had to come out sometime," she laughs harder, but I'm not seeing the funny side. "Unintentional pun sorry, maybe I should have said you had to come out sometime."

"What? Did your fucking science shit make me gay? What the fuck are you on?" I'm not impressed. I am living in a mad scientists basement cage. I can feel me getting mad again.

"No, I didn't make you gay. You can't make people gay anymore than you could make yourself straight. I guess I'm just finding the fact that you are flipping out over something that has been pretty obvious for the last few years rather than the fact we can play Lego with your toes."

Fuck, she is using her usual diversion tactics again but instead of unicorn stickers I have to deal with either the fact that she thinks I'm gay or the creepy connotations of toe Lego. I pick neither. Fuck her mind games, fuck her sense of control and fuck her. Mmm fuck her, those long toned legs, sexy flat stomach, her piercing blue eyes... Maybe she has a point. I clench and relax my hands and think about getting maced. I count back from 10 and open my eyes at 1.

"I don't want to think about that. What I would like is to have a shower some clean clothes and some food. I know you said I'm not a person but I'm asking super nicely see?" These milk covered clothes are shit and I'm starving.

"Quinn you are totally a person, an awesome cooler than a Unicorn person. In fact you don't become a non person until I get busted for making you a super soldier, the only I got permission to own a subhuman is for work related purposes." She stops and looks at me smiling sheepishly, "It will be our secret. School will be sweet."

By this time I have noticed some serious avoidance. "Is there any reason you are avoiding the topic at hand?"

"Well yea... When I bolted, I didn't shut the door properly so it went into lockdown."

I gesture impatiently, and she continues, "That door won't open until this time tomorrow. Sorry. I can totally do clothes and food though. What do you want I can order anything."

I punch the wall to make a little puff of dust and a pretty good blood smear as it is a bare concrete wall. "Quinn? You ok?" She sounds concerned and I remind myself that she is trying to care.

"I really, really don't want to sleep with milk in my hair. It will be rank as fuck by morning."

She looks around and her eyes fix on a tap in the corner, "Do you mind cold?" Well yes actually I do but it's better than nothing.

Three hours later

I'm clean, dry and fed. I Hope to god that I never have to have Brittany hose shower me again. That has to have been the most embarrassing thing ever. She kept saying not to worry because one I'm hot and two she saw it all when I was in a coma anyway. But the point is I'm clean. She left about an hour ago after quoting glee break up party as an excuse. She left a few books, an entire bucket of kfc to snack onand a promise to go on a run tomorrow when the stupid auto delay opens. I'm reading on the bed as the lights go out. Taking this as the hit it obviously is I give up and go to sleep.

Brittany is in front of her computer again. The lights are still off but she is sitting in front of the monitors entering data into spreadsheets. At the end of a column she spins on the chair to face me. She looks like shit, eyes bloodshot as like she cried herself to sleep.

"Rough night?" I ask. I have realized I have to be nice to her or I may never leave this cell.

"Fuck up," Woah that is an insane level of hostility, I am unimpressed as to where this is going. "Yesterday I promised you a run," what am I a fucking dog? Walkies Quinn, good girl. I'm feeling a wee bit pissed off and it's been less than a minute. "so we are going to go on a fucking run, then we can swap the gurney for a real bed. Then I'm done with you for the day. Deal?"

"What am I supposed to do all day alone? That's a bull shit deal."

"It's the only fucking one you're getting, but now I'm thinking just a mattress."  
I stare at her in disbelief, this is rubbish. Then I see how close she is to crying, "Deal. But would it be possible to have breakfast first?"

Her lips twitch, "Well that was a quicker agreement than I expected. Yes you can have breakfast. You can even have a shower after the run," something is off. She looks happier, but the mean happier like when Santana was about to go NATO on people she didn't like. "Just, chuck this ankle bracelet on and we can go."  
And there is the catch, I accept it when she passes it through the bars. It doesn't really look like a bracelet more like a shin pad. It has a click lock on the side. She is still just watching so I click the damn thing on. Before I can ask what it is she disappears out of the room again, just to reappear a minute later with jogging clothes.

"Here, more stuff for you to put on." She thrusts a pair of football shorts and a sleeveless hoodie through the bars. She doesn't look like she will look away so I just change in front of her. Just as I expected she is watching closely, I hadn't anticipated how close however and start to blush under her scrutiny.

"What?" I say after I'm dressed, "internet porn not enough these days? Does Miss Brittany S Pierce need her own private show?"

She gives me the evils, "I was checking the scarring on your side as well as checking you out. Because this is what you will look like for the rest of your life, so forgive me if I was curious. Luckily your smokin' so that won't really be a body crisis issue."

Oh. Now I don't know what to think. I'll be 17 forever? Is that good or bad? I don't have much time to think about it as Brittany has opened the cage and waved me out. She taps a button on the computer and my shin beeps.

"If you were wondering why I was trusting you so much, just letting you jog beside me with nothing but your word to keep you there I'm not. That bracelet will blow your leg off if you get more than 150 metres away from me. It starts beeping at 120, just to give you some warning." She pauses then grins evilly "So better keep up."

We go for about a 20k run. It was insane. I don't think I have ever run that far, I also would never have considered that shit easy. From Cheerio's practice I knew Brittany was fitter than me, but not today. She started flagging at the 15k mark and struggling at 18. When we walked back to her car I wasn't even tired. On the way back from the park she was clearly happier, almost as if she had run off her problem. "Want to talk about it?" I offer. She looks at me and seems to weigh it up internally.

"Sure, ask whatever you want."

So many things. So I start with the obvious. "Santana?"

She turns around and looks at me for a second. Then back to the road. I am very glad of this because there is still a little voice inside my head that is screaming about a certain blonde woman driver.

"I give you free rein to ask anything you want and she is what you pick. Not what is happening to your body, not why I was even at McKinley but Santana."

"Uh yea. When you put it like that it sounds stupid."

"It's not stupid I've seen the way you look at her, let me tell you I would have put the serious Lima Heights smack down on you if you had ever looked to moving out of Narnia."

What... I'm totally confused. Brittany thinks I want Santana? Not impressed. "I, I meant, last night. Was seeing Santana yesterday what put you in such a damn bitchy mood this morning?"

"I guess so. She wouldn't talk to me and I could see her hurting. Which hurt me, which made me drink which made me sad, so I drank more. The cycle perpetuates. Yet. Sorry for being down right evil this morning I had to sweat out my hangover. Also I put rat poison on your Wheaties. Your totally welcome."

"What the fuck, WHY?"

"Two reasons. Firstly because now you are awake you seem to be developing more,"

I look down, they still look the same. Brittany catches the movement and snorts. "Moron, I meant strength and endurance wise. At some stage soon we will go into my lab and sort a way to restrict it but for now I'm kind of just going to poison you. And the second reason is that now you're going to make a move on Santana and I don't like it."

She seems really paranoid about this, and to be totally honest I'm not entirely sure she have ever been wrong judging relationships. We sit in silence for the rest of the trip home.

In the front door, down the steps to the left, Brittany unlocks another door and I'm back in the cage. I decide to push my luck, "Hey Brit, Is there any chance I'm allowed in the rest of your house?"

"Not without me. This whole situation makes my parents really uncomfortable. They loved me being smart, but hated me using that intelligence with military research. You, for all intents and purposes are a weapon now, sort of like a rabid attack dog. So no you can't hang in the lounge with my little brother and play Xbox sorry."

Well, Fuck. "But he totally like grounded so we can just steal it and put it down here." She gives a little smile, "because I know you tots weren't rocking the books I leant you."

"How do you do that? Swap from Scientist Pierce to sweet simple Brittany?"

"Practice. Lots and lots of practice. If I wanted to go into the military research I had to go to high school like a normal kid. My parents insisted and legally being a minor I couldn't refuse. They said something about needing the formative years of my life to be filled with normal interactions with people my own age not just orders and test tubes. Remember how I said I got lost in the sewers last summer holidays? Working on this stuff. When I go missing for periods at a time? Generally on the phone to someone at the base. It is actually really nice not to be treated like a dipshit."

She cracks her neck and sighs. "Enough about me. Let's get your dungeon sorted out. I have shit I need to be doing today."

An hour later I have a mattress with a bottom sheet and one thick blanket, an old as TV and Tommy's Xbox in my cage. Brittany runs an extension lead, in chucks a pillow and multibox at my head and promises to come back with dinner. I never got the shower she promised but I guess the Xbox is better long term. As it comes to life sounding like a jet engine I realise who I am right now.

Dirty? Check. Smelly? Check. Playing games in a dark room? Check. Not trusted to get my own food? Check. Shit I am totally Finn.

I'm dirty, hungry and bored. I've never been one for video games as I use them more as a social tool than a solo event. So as I got hungrier and the games got harder I got angry. I tried taking a nap but I'm not tired. I tried a different game but fuck C.O.D. I get bored quickly and start the doing the basic strength endurance test Sue made the Cheerios do. Ten push ups at a rate of one per second then ten sit-ups again at one per second. Next round fifteen each, then twenty. By the time Brittany gets back I'm up to a hundred and twenty per cycle.

"Wow you must have been bored." She wrinkles her nose at the smell in here. "This room is gross. Want to go out for dinner?"

I stop mid push up and slowly stand. I'd been doing exercise for ages and I'm sweaty, but weirdly not puffed. Incidentally I think I might be the source of this rooms smell. "Sure. Can I shower first?"

"Please do. Come we are going to my ensuite." She unlocks the cage and hands the ankle bracelet back. I notice that the room door stays firmly shut until I click it on. She holds the basement door open for me. "Move it smelly." As I go past her heading for the stairs she smacks my ass. I file this motion away to think about later. I'm not sure what to make of her new touchy feely behaviour.

It is heaven. I'm clean for the first time in days. I shaved a coma's worth of hair off my legs, shampooed my hair, brushed my teeth. I'm so clean I swear my skin changed colour. Nothing has ever seemed so good. Looking in Brittany's mirror I can see the scars. They run from my left armpit to hip, huge tears that look sort of like a spider web. In the month I was out they have healed up to an angry pink. I will never wear a bikini again. The door opens and I grab for my towel. Brittany seems to have some mad privacy issues. She throws underwear at me, I pride myself on not catching it and holding the towel in a concealing position.

"Looks like you do have hidden brains in there Fabray, hurry up we are meeting my friend."

I put the underwear on and exit the bathroom feeling somewhat self conscious about my state of undress. "My clothes are in there, go for it," Brit waves her arm at a cupboard on the far side of the room. I enter it and start looking for some of her older clothes, maybe they will be shorter in the leg. Everything in here is so bright. I settle on a gray skirt that looks like it has never been worn, a white tank top and a black cardigan. Suck on that Brittany I found normal clothes in here. Grabbing the walk ins handle I attempt to open the door. "HAHA Quinn you are stuck in the closet."

"Very funny, now can I leave or do you want me to break the door down."

Brit drops her voice "Oh Quinn baby, if you are willing to smash the door down for me I'll be yours All Night Long." I stop touching the door immediately and take a step back. She needs to stop fucking with my head because soon I might actually take her up on the offer, and that would not bode well for either of us. Don't think I would ever be able to focus in Cheerio's again. Can you say dropped?

She notices the hesitation and opens the door. "Just hurry up. It's toats important you meet this guy."

McDonalds. Brittany takes me to meet Chuck at fucking McDonalds. I think she is aiming for me to be the size of a house because she orders me a couple of family meals. Speaking of Chuck he is a nice sweet guy. I was a little nervous when Brittany said she knew him from her research but he seems like a harmless nerd. A lot like Sam if I'm honest, except Sam liked sci fi and football where as Chuck is more interested in making video games real. The dude started telling me about IRL HUD's before Brittany elbowed him. I zoned out when Brittany and Chuck started chatting with the big boy words, something about biology, limiters and heart surgery. I'm watching the cashier smile and flirt with her customers. How on earth did McD's get someone pretty behind the counter.

"So what do you think Quinn?" Britt's question is out of the blue.

"Uh what?" That girl just needs two more buttons undone and the view would be so much better.

"See told you she wasn't listening." This is directed at Chuck, "Asking her is only like a formality anyway."

"Well if your sure, I mean you have to live with her and ..." Their bickering is making me feel like a third wheel.

"I'm still here guys. Talk to me not through me."

"Quinn I brought you here so we could have an adult conversation. We spent 20 minutes solid explaining what we were going to do to stabilize you more because I'm pretty sure you don't want to be eating rat poison as a long term plan. Chuck has kindly made a kick ass device that will solve most of your problems. And you would rather drool over some random minimum wager than listen to what will happen."

"But she is pretty..." I whine. Chuck looks amused. Brittany really doesn't. "Sorry. Yes I'll do whatever you're talking about because Chuck seems nice and trustworthy and it's not like you were going to give me a real choice anyway."

Chuck is full out laughing now. "Goddamn, if you will agree to letting us do open heart surgery cos you were perving at her, I really want to see what you would do for a lap dance."

Wait, what? Not cool. Brittany sees the look on my face yells "No Backsees," then hi fives Chuck. That right there made me even more nervous.

It was a Friday night when they did it. And I really want to make a note that singing "Friday Friday gotta get down on Friday" just about the least confidence inspiring thing ever. Closely followed by 'here get really really high because we can't sedate you'.

"What? Why not?" this is seeming like a worse and worse plan by the minute. The three of us are standing in my cell, the bed and Xbox pushed into a corner and the hospital bed is back in the middle above the drain. The straps have been fixed and it looks ominous as fuck.

"Look, I stopped feeding you poison so you will heal really quickly as we aren't qualified to perform surgery in any way shape or form. That means we can fuck up a bit attaching the limiter, but it also means your body will completely process out any sedatives and painkillers we could use. Likewise we can't get you drunk, but that was never really an option because that makes you bleed more."

At this stage Chuck steps forward holding said bag of weed.

"So maybe if you're really high and don't look at what we are doing we can get this done quick and it will heal and then we can all get smashed to black this out," he gives me a small smile. The fact that he isn't super excited about this reassures me. I'd hate for anyone to be happy while cutting me open. There is no more time to think because Brittany shoves me back onto the bed.

"Just hurry up," I swing my legs up and she starts strapping me down.

"Kinky," I say, just to be making noise and pretend I have a say in this. She gives me a death glare and just keeps going. Ankles, thighs, waist, wrists and across the shoulders. I now have no mobility whatsoever. She sits down and rolls a fat joint, wow that right there is definitely a skill I want my open heart surgeon to have. She gently places the joint in my lips, "Breathe deep baby." We sit there for a while I'm getting higher and higher.

After a few minutes it stops affecting me as much and they get ready. The higher straps come off, my top and bra come off then Brit puts an operating gown on me backwards so the flaps are at the front. The straps go back on tighter then she tapes the gown down leaving about four inches across my sternum clear. All of this happened while Chuck was staring into his bag, he refused to look up until Brittany cleared her throat.

"Alright let's do this, in the third alien movie there is a pretty realistic autopsy bit. I think if we do the same as they did in the movie to crack her chest then this should pretty much just hook over her heart, slip the wires into the main arteries then it should attach to the inside of the ribs when we push them shut. Is the plan."

Holy fuck. They have to be fucking kidding me, they are basing their plan off what they saw in a movie. Not happy. But I'm strapped down and they stole surgical tools from somewhere. Fuck this shit. Brittany removes my roach to slip a chunk of solid plastic between my teeth. With that done the mask goes back on and she tells me to go to my happy place. I take a quick look at Chuck and in that moment I know that he has no desire to be here and this will probably haunt him for ages.

Slice. Don't look down. I don't care how much it hurts don't look down. Slice. keep staring up. Slice. That three. I think that's the Y cut. Ahhh Fuck yes that was the Y I can feel them pulling the flaps open. I can't concentrate on anything. This is the most ridiculous amount of pain. Someone should have told them pot isn't an effective painkiller. When I feel the bone saw hit my exposed sternum, that's it I'm gone.

_"Hey Q, I can't believe we made the squad," Santana is gushing. I don't think I have ever seen her this happy. It's the very start of freshman year, just after trials. We are the last ones in off the field as Sue called the new names last. We have just been presented with our very first Cheerio uniform. To us it's like the keys to the city. Santana rips it out the box and pulls it on. Her hair isn't in a high pony yet, but otherwise she is the perfect McKinley High Cheerio. She spins and I stop opening my box mesmerised. The pleats rise during her twirl and her ass is so fine. The thing that gets me though is her smile. Goddamn does she look happy. At this moment she is pure perfection. Inside and outside just fucking perfect. _

I wake up to Brittany's face hovering over mine. She looks relieved when I open my eyes. I notice that Chuck is nowhere to be seen as Brit undoes all my straps. After pulling off the mask and spitting out my fucked chew toy I ask "Where did he go?"

"Well after vomiting up everything he had ever eaten he panicked when you didn't wake up after we pushed you back together."

"Wait what time is it? How long was I out? It only seemed like a couple minutes max."

"It's 2AM, so that makes it like 6 hours. We maybe forgot that the limiter would kick in immediately. We had to wait for you to stabilise like a normal person before we could slowly shut it down. It was real touch and go for a while."

"But..."

"But now you are good, and I can totally let you go for runs by yourself now," She smiles and I remember my dream, I'm going to make Santana smile like that again. I don't care what it takes. I'm going to make her happy. "But I'd rather you avoid McKinley people for now. Way to many awkward questions." Alright I'll postpone my plan till school.

This is the life though. I am totally allowed to leave the house by myself. I can run in the park, swim in the duck pond, fuck I could even get a job like a real person to kill my day. Everything is coming up Quinn. I look down and the Y-incision is only pale pink lines. If I'm being honest it is way less nasty than the scars on my side. "Let's clear this gurney out so I can go to sleep Brit."

Boom baby, I can almost pretend I'm normal for awhile.

**AN - Please review, it's like mental hugs.**


	2. Friends(ish)

Like usual I wake up to the sound of Brittany tapping away on the computer. What wasn't usual was waking up tired and feeling like shit. Recently I've been waking up bursting with energy and bouncing off the walls until Brit takes me for my morning run. I got over being treated like a dog after our little comprise. She doesn't call me Quinnie and yell heel when I get far enough away for my bracelet to start beeping, if I just use the hose to shower down here. Apparently I haven't proven trustworthy enough to her parents. I get that because I don't even know what the fuck my body is doing most days. It's like puberty all over again but way more brutal. I started sweating at weird times, I started noticing girls a lot more and I'm getting huge impulses to act on these urges. Luckily I'm not getting anymore weird patches of hair. I digress, what I really want to know is if waking up feeling like arse is related to the dynamic duo playing operation yesterday.

Before I can ask she spins around with golden hair flying, my breath catches, fuck she is stunning the things we could do. Her piercing blue eyes hold mine and then I realize what I was thinking. Brittany Pierce has piercing eyes, nice one Quinn. I snort and shake my head to clear the image. She raises an eyebrow,

"Wha? Actually never mind. What I want to know is how you feel."

"Tired, cranky and sore"

"Awesome." She looks so fucking pleased with herself right now, sort of pissing me off.

"Alright how the fuck is that awesome?" I really have the worst conversations with her. It's never hi how are you, oh that's no good hope you feel better. Its oh look your fucked that's cool. How about we make that worse. I guess she sees I'm looking angry because she raises her hands in a placating gesture.

"It's totally awesome because it means the limiter is working. Normally you would just heal up to a ridiculous level, and sleep it off. But now you wake up normally but feel like shit, so hence awesome. The theory is you should heal up quicker if you eat more. That's why you have been eating ridiculous amounts of calories recently, it's been keeping your body in overdrive."

"So what your saying is after breakfast I'll feel better?"

She gives me a look of disbelief. "Open heart surgery last night, by total novices in a totally unsterile environment, you were fucking lucky to even wake up after you stopped healing midway through, and your main thought is Breakfast?"

I plaster the blankest, stupidest look on my face kind of like the one Brittany usually wears at school. "I like breakfast. Rachel."

She gives me the evils, and I struggle to maintain my bland face. I probably shouldn't provoke her and she does has a point but petty annoyance is sort of all I have going for me. She keeps staring. Then I guess again she decides to ignore it. "Let's get hungry Quinnie some brekkie then. You'd like that wouldn't you. Yea you would. Good girl."  
Well maybe not.

Point taken, don't fuck with Brittany when she hasn't had much sleep. I don't apologize though. Fuck it if I'm not being treated like a person I won't act like one. She leaves and comes back with an entire loaf of bread, a butter knife and a jar of nutella. She thrusts all of them though the bars. "There you go, breakfast is served."  
I look dubiously at what I'm holding. It is all super processed carbs. Pure sugar spread, white bread there is absolutely no nutritional value in any of it. On the other hand if I understood Brit earlier then I'm not going to get fat, just hyper. At this I look up and Brittany, "I can go for a run today right?" I say this around a mouthful of bread, because I was to hungry to wait.  
She is laughing at me, I know it. Still making more breakfast is way better than confirming this. She waits patiently until I am debating whether or not to eat the crusts to answer my question.

"Yes you can go on a run by yourself today. But there are still rules. 1, try your best not to be seen by people you know, 2, don't run super speedy so it's not obvious you're super abnormal and I'm going to put this gps tracker in your arm so if anything does happen I can find you. Alright?"

There is nothing there I can really argue with so I nod and stick my arm through the bar. In the few weeks since I woke up in this basement our whole dynamic has changed. We have slowly settled into a pretty steady rhythm with each other now though. A quick slice into my arm and she is done. The computer and her phone beeps in recognition of received signal so clearly she had forward planned this. I vaguely wonder if she has ever stalked someone because she would be fucking good at it. I watch with morbid fascination as my arm heals around the tracker. Maybe not as this is pretty invasive.

After my arm is all scabbed up she unlocks the cage and hands me a house key.

"Wow, you sure?" This is fucking huge. Yesterday she wasn't letting me out of her line of site, and even that was with a freaking bomb strapped to my leg.

"Yup." There is a huge shit eating grin on her face, oh fuck I really don't like that glint in her eyes. It's like her eyes have turned into ice. She hits a button on her iPhone and I hear a sickeningly familiar beep, or rather feel the beep because it comes from inside my chest. All the blood drains from my face and all I can do is stagger backwards until I can fall onto my bed. Being a mattress on the floor it's a bit of a fall.

"It's just a warning Quinn. No need to panic. Be back by 10pm and I don't give a fuck what you do so long as you don't get caught." At that she just gets up and leaves. What the hell am I supposed to do? I have a goddamn bomb strapped to my heart. I huddle under my blankets for a while but I can't fall asleep to forget this. Nothing will be normal again. After about an hour I can't take it anymore. I realise I can leave this fucking dungeon, so why the fuck am I here?

Fuck finding shoes, fuck the spare phone she left out for me, I jam the house key in my hoodie pocket and leave. Up the stairs and out the front door without even checking the hallway for her family. What the fuck kind of family raises someone that's ok with putting a bomb in her supposed friend's chest?

I'm seething with rage and I want to hit something. I push that impulse down because I know deep down in my rational mind that if I fuck my new found freedom up Brittany isn't likely to give me a second chance.

My feet hurt, they have been bleeding on and off for the last few hours I guess in hindsight I probably should have grabbed shoes. My lungs are burning and my legs are jelly. The sun has started to dip and I realize that I should probably start heading back. I pause and look around with my heart pounding in my chest. It's nice to feel this fucked to be honest. It makes me feel normal and I don't know if it's Brittany's dubious surgical skill or just luck but even with my lungs heaving I can't feel the bomb in my chest. I guess I understand why she did it but fuck it makes me angry. It feels like she may as well be standing behind me with a gun to the back of my head. The way I can run until it hurts comforts me. Just because it took longer than it should of and my feet are starting to heal up again doesn't make me feel any less human. It's nothing at all like being dissected.  
Which I can't quite get out of my mind. Just that feeling of having my skin peeled back sits in the back of my head making me freak out, slowly seeping into my conscious thought until it's all I can think about, I'm hyperventilating now paying no attention to where I'm moving.

_I'm driving my mum's minivan to the shop tonight so I don't have to get up early tomorrow. I called and cleared it with Finn beforehand. I hate this car, it completely kills my street cred and handles like a fucking whale besides. But I'm smart, I'm taking the back roads so no one sees me in this piece of shit. Turning the corner, I'm on the home stretch now baby ain't no one gonna see the Puckasaurus in this piece of shit. I get mad sun strike when the cloud shifts and can't see fuck all. I tap the brakes when THUD. Fuck me, musta hit a deer. Lucky I was heading to the shop already. Wait... There hasn't been deer around here since I was little._

Bang, I go flying. The road rushes up to meet me but I'm going too fast to give it a proper hug, instead I glance off it, bounce up and come down on the gravel shoulder sliding a bit before I stop. As I lie there in the most incredible pain I decide I must have the shittest luck in existence. I'm thinking about this to avoid looking down. If I don't look it hasn't happened right? I look down. Fuck there is blood everywhere and a lot seems broken. From what Brit has told me over the last week or so if I just lie here I should be fine. But it really really isn't feeling that way. In fact I'm feeling worse and I know I'm hallucinating when I see Puck run up.

"Oh fuck oh fuck. It's a person. I hit a fucking person." Well maybe not. Surely if I imagined Puck he would seem cooler right? I lift my head to look up at him and he some goes paler. "Quinn? How the fuck did I hit you? You're in a coma. Not here. You can't be here." I drop my head back and just chill sprawled on the shoulder. Well it totally sounds like Puck.

"Uhhhhhgh." Wait that's not right I try harder. "Cahhhl," I cough some blood and try to spit it out but is too hard. By now he has knelt down beside me. Sweet that'll make it easier to talk, also I'm loving having coherent thought right now "call,"

"911, yea I'll call them now you just hang on ok?" He fumbles in his pocket for his phone, shit that is the last thing I wanted him to do.

"Nuh, cahl Brit," I cough and try to take a deeper breath, "call Brittany" I finally manage to choke out. He stops fumbling for a second, he looks confused. He clearly decides to ignore my request as he is about to hit call for 911. Using all my energy I manage to swat his phone down. It hits the ground and when my clearly broken arm hits soon after it I pass out. I wake up to arguing. I'm not feeling any better and I'm still lying on the side of the road.

Looks like Brit showed up without being called. "Just put her in my car and forget about this Puck."

"You're crazy, she needs to go to a hospital. I don't care if I go back to Juvie over this, I'm not letting her fucking die."

"She's fine Puck. Just put her in my car and leave"

"Fine, FINE? How the fuck is she fucking fine? You know what every second we argue is a second she doesn't have." I feel arms scoop under me. I can't help it I scream in pain. I see Puck's face go whiter but he doesn't drop me. "Don't worry Q, I got you. Gonna take you to the hospital. Get you all fixed up." louder at Brittany "Open the back... Why the fuck is there a tarp?" he is starting to sound scared, " did you know she was gonna be bleeding? How..." I miss the next bit because Puck put me on the backseat, but the next thing I see is Brit in the driver's seat pulling a fucking gun on Puck when he goes for the door handle.

"I told you to forget this but seeing as you can't get in and shut up." She delivers this speech over a gun that doesn't waver a single millimetre. Poor Puck I'm pretty sure this makes a quarter of glee that Brittany has fucked over. Santana with her lies, me with her science and now Puck with this incident. I'm the only one with visible scars though, lucky me. The boy is shaking and white as he sits down in the passenger side, from this angle it looks like I got a lot of red on his shirt. He leans through the gap and gently takes my unbroken (left) hand.

"I am so sorry I failed you Quinn. First I fucken hit you, then I can't even get you to the hospital."

Brittany just snorts, "You're just sad cos now you have to go further for your hookups. Where were you going anyway?" I can see him shaking with rage over how flippant Brit is over this. To be honest this is the first time I have seen her be this much of a cold bitch. With me she generally treated me nicely enough, just not like a person.

"The Hummel garage," he get out through gritted teeth, "I was dropping my mum's car off at the Garage for a service."

"Oh awesome, that makes things like super easy." Just like that Brittany has slipped into her dumb super happy mode. She pulls out her phone and starts calling. She flashes Puck and I with a huge grin before putting on a fake sad voice. Recently I have been wondering about her mental stability.

"F-f-finn? It's Brittany. Could you please use Burt's tow truck to pick up Pucks car? We were driving to the garage and he hit Bambi," at that she let out a large sobbing noise, "my mum picked us up so we can give Bambi a funeral. Puck wanted to wait with the car but he needs to dig the grave to make things right... Finn, how will the forest be ok without Bambi?" There is a long pause in which I guess Finn tries to comfort her, then "Thanks Finn, you are like the nicest forest giant ever."

She hangs up with a smug look on her face. I'm just scared that it took her two seconds to deal with the problem. Smashed car covered in blood? No deer body? No problem. Just give her some fake tears and a cute story and no questions asked.

We pull up outside her house. The lights are on and we can hear people inside. This seems to stump Brittany. "Fuck it, we will just wrap her in the tarp and you carry her down to the basement. I'll say hi to my parents then meet you down there in a second."

They get out of the car and wrap the tarp around me while I'm on the backseat hidden from view. I start to scream at the rough treatment I'm getting from Brittany's end, Puck is being nothing but gentle and she is in my face in an instant "Shush," she whispers quietly. Her soft words are the opposite of her actions as she tapes my mouth shut. The tarp gets pulled over my face and I can feel tape being wrapped around it before I pass out from the pain of being picked up.

_Today has been a nightmare. I don't know what I'm doing anymore as I stagger downstairs into Brittany's basement holding Quinn in my arms. What the fuck was with Brittany showing up like that? She just knew Quinn was going to be there and bleeding. And who the fuck can just wrap their best friend up like a slab of meat to bury in the woods? I hold my Quinn package as tight as I dare with one arm while I struggle with the door. I get through and stop again with it swinging shut behind me. What the fuck is this? Half this room looks like a science lab with computers and shit and the other half is clearly a cell. There is a drain in the middle, a mattress and xbox set up at either end. It really looks like some lives in there. The door opens behind me and Brittany steps in. I'll admit it. I am shitting myself right now, there is only one door and she is blocking it. I know she has a gun and I realise I know nothing about her._

_"So Puck, welcome to my room." Brittany crosses the room and opens the cage. "Just chuck her on the mattress and I'll sort this out," I watch her hold the door but I am to stunned to move. "Urgh, stupid boys, I'll do it." She grabs Quinn out of my arms, staggers under the weight and just drops her onto the mattress like a sack of dirt. I wince at the rough treatment but after the roadside I don't really expect any better. She comes back out of the cage and grabs a scalpel from a bag under the computer bench. Brittany then proceeds to quickly unwrap Quinn by slashing open the tarp until she is just lying in a blue plastic canoe. Looking closely I can see new straight cuts that can only be from careless cuts. This isn't even horror movie shit, there is no malice in what B is doing to Quinn, she just straight up doesn't care that it's a person she is hurting. "Huh, your right Puck. She does seem pretty fucked up. Ah well she'll tots be better by the morning." With that she leaves the cell to go mess with stuff on the other side of the room. I just stare at Quinn, she looks so broken. Fuck it's all my fault._

Brit pushes past me and hooks up a drip to Quinn's left arm. She just duct tapes the line to her arm and the bag to the wall at about head height.

_"In or out?"_

_"What?"_

_She rolls her eyes, in a way very reminiscent of Santana and slowly repeats "Are you staying in the cell or out of it? Like you aren't leaving this room til Quinn is good and the mattress probably fits two people."_

_"Uh in I guess." _

_"Awesome, I'll see you two in the morning. Night guys." She shoves me into the cell, swings the door shut and skips out. Now it's just me and Quinn in this fucked up room. I sit down and hold her hand._

_"I'm so fucking sorry, I don't know what's going on but I'll be here for you." I lean against the wall and against my best intentions I fall asleep.  
_  
I wake up disorientated, the last thing I remember is being put in the back of Brittany's car. Opening my eyes I can see I'm back in my cage and I'm not alone. Puck is crashed out next to me, from the position he is in it looks like he was holding my hand when he fell asleep. It's weirdly sweet but is probably more related to guilt for hitting me rather than actual feelings.

I feel a tug when I stretch, looking down I see the drip in my arm. I follow the line up, bags empty so I pull the needle out. Fuck it's weird watching my arm heal up instantly. I stand up and stretch. All this dried cracked blood comes off me. It's fucking gross. My clothes are ripped and bloody, fuck. I want a shower and I don't think I actually have any other clothes. I sit back down and wake Puck up.

"Bro," I shake his shoulder, "Bro, wake up. Brit will be down in a second." He wakes up and shoots straight up,

"Holy fuck how are you ok?" he wraps his arms around me. "But thank fuck you are. What's going on?"

Our little moment is broken up by Brittany coming in. Like yesterday she has breakfast. Same thing too, score I love nutella. I walk up to the bars and chuck my arm through. Fuck I'm hungry again. I feel like I haven't eaten in days. Puck is watching us closely trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. I can tell he is confused, shit I know he is because a week ago that was me. Difference is I just stopped caring, I figure what happens happens. Ain't nothing I can do to fix it now. Surprisingly Brit opens the cage and props it open.

"Wanna wash your hands and face before breakfast?" She gestures to the tap. Yea I guess that's a good idea. As soon as I saw the food I had totally forgotten how gross I was. I walk to the tap look at Puck, decide I don't really care and strip 'til I'm in the running shorts and bra. I soak the dirty tops in cold water and use them as a washcloth. To finish up I rinse my hair under the tap. Hot damn being clean feels so much better.

"Can I have breakfast now?"

"Yea sure thing babe." Early morning endearments in front of Puck? Not cool. Never the less I take the bread and start eating all of it, today I'm so hungry I just dip the bread into the nutella jar. Needless to say that doesn't really work and I end up eating balls of smooshed bread and hazelnut like a pig. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Pucks jaw moving, there is no sound though.

"As you can see Puck, Quinn is fine. Like I said yesterday it would be best I you had just dropped it. But you didn't so long story short; Quinn is now like a shitty as version of superman. Don't tell anyone. Also I have shit to do today so please get out." she smiles sweetly and I can see that Puck is still confused as fuck.

"Hey Brit seeing as Puck knows now can I please hang with him? I'll avoid other McKinley people, but I hate being locked down here. Besides I kind of know that you monitor the fuck out of me with your phone so it can't really hurt right?" I give her my best puppy dog eyes and she sighs.

"Fine, but you owe me. Take this phone and txt me if anything at all happens. Now get out."  
Puck looks like he is about to keep questioning her so I grab his hand and pull him towards the door. I really don't want to be stuck inside playing Xbox all day if she changes her mind. She gives me a once over and I realize I'm half naked, fuck it I'll grab something from by the door.

"As soon as you open the door we will be gone Brit."

"Try not to get in any more accidents Quinn, have a good day."

Hot damn this is a good way to start my day. I'm allowed to leave and have a friend? There are no words to describe how awesome this is. It's like a snow day without the snow. Half dragging Puck up the stairs to the door it is really hard not to giggle with excitement. I stop at the coat rack and grab the butt ugly participation hoodie that every McKinley student was given after our hugs not drugs workshop. Rachel is the only person I have ever seen stupid enough to wear it. The upside is that if people do see me in it they won't come close enough to see who I am. We run out the door onto the street, "Where to Puck? The day is ours," he is standing stock still, staring at Brit's house. Yup she has definitely fucked with his head too. I flip my hood up and grab his arm, "C'mon, I'll explain this shit to you at yours." I hold his arm until we are both jogging towards his house.

We get there in about 10 minutes, Puck is sweating and bitching about running in jeans. I love how short a teenage attention span is. Doesn't matter what we are faced with give us 5 minutes to forget the issue and we will find a minor annoyance to complain about. "Toughen up bro, at least you have shoes, I'm pretty sure I stepped in at least one broken bottle on the way here."

"What the fuck happened to you Q? How... "

I cut him off as he is getting kinda loud, clearly his attention span is longer than mine, "Can we do that inside? Please?"

He gives me a look, oh I know that one he is trying to think. "Alright but my mom is home so if you want to avoid talking to her as well your gonna have to climb into my room."

"No problem, anything to avoid explanations." I give him a grin and run into the back yard. Hot damn I'm happy to have someone other than Brittany to hang with. Breaking and entering is a small price to pay for a break from that nutcase.

Ok so his bedroom is on the second floor. And there is no conveniently placed trellis or a balcony or anything useful. I look around the yard for a chair or something to jump off. If the base of the window is 3.5m up and I can reach 2m with up arms outstretched then I should be able to jump of a pile of crap and then pull myself up, right? The highest thing I can find is a stool they leave the washing basket on. That leaves me with just under a meter to jump. Yay maths. Should be doable. I take a run at it, get my right foot placed and push. Well that was easier than I thought. With both hands firmly on the ledge I pull my head up to look in. Fuck, the windows shut. I don't really want to do the jump again because in hindsight if the chair had gone sideways then I could have been seriously injured. Wait, that was yesterday. I start laughing and my arms relax for a second. That's enough to go from peering over the windowsill to hanging off it. Now I'm laughing way too hard to pull myself up. Luckily that's when Puck opens the window. He scans the yard before hearing me.

"How did you get there?"

"Magic. Please move so I can get in," he steps back and I pull myself in. I land on some dirty clothes under the star wars poster, instead of getting up I pat the ground next to me.

"Sit down and I'll tell you a story."

It feels nice to talk. So I sit and tell Puck everything, well not everything. I don't tell him that I think I've always had a sub conscious crush on Santana. But I tell him everything else. At the end of it he is sitting there slack jawed. He swallows a few times.

"If I hadn't seen your roadkill act yesterday there is no way I would ever believe that."

"I know. And I'm sorry I broke your phone yesterday, I just really didn't want to go to the hospital and get legally registered as a freak. I don't have any money, but maybe I could help you clean pools to make up for it?"

"That'd be primo, I actually got my first installation tomorrow and I really don't wanna dig the hole. Up for it Fabray?"

"Some nice hard manual labour? Sure why not."

After our big deep and meaningful Puck gets up to take a shower. The dude has a weird collection of crap around his room to keep me entertained. He also appears to have thrown nothing out ever, I go through his closet and find clothes that can't have fit him since he was 14. Be close enough for me though. I cannot stand this hoodie any longer. I am pretty sure even Berry only wore hers once. I pull it off just as Puck comes back into the room. He is just wearing jeans and is drying off his torso. He looks at my state of undress and smirks.

"Nice to see you still have those abs Q babe, looking go..." he trails off the smirk dropping off his face. "It that where you came off?" He had stepped totally into my personal space and was now running his fingertips down the scars gently. "Fuck." I step back. I don't want his pity. It's done it's over. So long as I never wear a bikini again no one should see. I go to pull the singlet I found over my head and he stops me.

"No, shower. You smell fucking terrible."

"You didn't notice before." I don't know why I'm arguing I haven't had a hot shower since before the initial accident.  
"I smelt before too. But you smell like jockstraps in a slaughter house so get the fuck in my shower before I wash you myself." He is saying this in a mock serious voice. Just like that the mood is broken. I sidle up to him, his nose wrinkles at the stench but he holds his ground.

"Sorry Puck, but Brit is the only one who gets to do that..." I run my hand down his chest and quickly duck into the bathroom as he tries to process that.  
I hear a loud "What?!" just before the water starts.

I wash myself while laughing. The hot water feels so fucking good, I crank it up to just under scalding and just bask in the feeling of being clean. I steal shampoo and body wash laughing at the testosterone filled labels. I'm not convinced smelling like diesel soap will help me with the ladies but whatever. I reluctantly step out of the shower, find a cleanish towel in the mess on the floor. Fuuuuck, forgot to grab my clean clothes. There's a knock on the door as I'm drying off.

"Want some clothes Quinn? Just gotta walk out here and get 'em" I can hear the laughter in his voice. Making sure to wrap the towel around me tightly I leave the ensuite. He is holding the jeans and black wife beater I found. He has also dug up a purple bra and some star wars jocks from somewhere. I raise an eyebrow, he shrugs "You can go commando if you want, but I reckon that'd be more fun for me than it would for you." He waggles his eyebrows at me. "Feel free not to use the bra."

Snorting I take the offered clothes, "In your dreams Puckerman." I get dressed then realize we have now exhausted our limited conversation topics. "Sooo, now what?"

"I take it you don't wanna to back to Brittany's?"

"Fuck no."

"Then pony up and show me your mad COD skillz."

With that he fires up the Xbox and throws a controller at me. The next eightish hours pass in a nice comforting cycle of frustration, scathing insults and junk food as we try and 3 star all of spec ops. Fuck this oil rig. I refuse to play anymore without real food. Besides we have died enough for me to throw a tantrum and rage quit.

"So Puck, whose bra is this?"

"Yours now. Santana left it her in like sophomore year. Given how she and Brittany are together now I doubt she's ever coming back for it."

I'm kinda distracted by the fact that Santana's boobs touched what my boobs are touching. Then I think about what if our naked torsos were actually touching. I start to really zone out before puck snaps his fingers in front of my face.

"They broke up." I blurt this out before he can say anything.

"Wha? You sure?"

"Yup, that's how this started. Besides Brittany keeps weirdly hitting on me."

"Hot." I smack him with a pillow.

"Fucking creepy," I correct him, "she doesn't even think of me as a person anymore. So I really don't want to get my mack on with her." Whoops, that may sound kind of gay.

"With Her?" Puck muses, "How about... Let's say Rachel." I snort but go slightly pink. He notices and grins "So I got the gender right," I go redder but say nothing. "but clearly not the person. Damn I so thought it would be Rachel, the way you watch my hot Jew friend. Let's see it's you so no one is really out of your league." From Puck that is pretty much a compliment, I can see the wheels turning in his head he sits there in silence. He starts laughing. "It's Santana isn't it?" I go completely red before stuttering out a pretty unconvincing no. "It is, it so fucking is. That is fucked up with you living with Brittany," He stands up and points at me before singing "Quinn and Santana sitting in a tree f - u - c - k - i - n ofph." He grunts as I tackle him before he gets to g. I had heard enough to guess where he was going. We wrestle on the floor as I try to get him in a decent headlock. By the time I manage it he seems to have forgotten I'm a girl because he swings a fist into my stomach. I release him and we both get up. "Fuck sorry Quinn, it was a reflex"

"Don't worry Puck you will be." With that I lurch forward leaning low and sideways. I manage to grab him around the thighs. Straightening up I flip him and he squeaks as his head nearly hits the floor. He's heavier than I was expecting but with my new strength I deal. I lean back and start staggering to the bathroom.

"Swirly time,"

"Oh fuck no Fabray." He wraps an arm around the back of my legs and starts tickling behind the knee. End result being us just lying on the floor laughing and slightly sore. "Truce?" He offers. I look at his hand get up and then pull him up.

"Only if we can go get food."

"Good enough"

Dinner consisted of all you can eat Pizza Hutt. I talked Puck into paying with the excuse of "but you hit me, think of this as sorry food."

"You were trying to beat me up. Besides you nearly gave me a swirly as revenge."

"Just pay the nice lady Puck. My wallet isn't in these pants."

"Those are my pants!"

"See now you have to pay." The male cashier is looking at us like we have an extra eye in the middle of our foreheads. I vaguely recognize him as a junior wannabe hockey player from school. This might lead to awkward rumours when we get back. Whatever, if I'm going after Santana I'm sure to generate way more. Halfway through our fifth pizza I am ready to admit defeat. Puck can win this stupid eating competition. Just before I call it my phone goes off, clearly it's Brittany as I don't even know the number for this brick.

"Hey Q is Puck there? I tried his phone but it doesn't ring anymore."

"Yup, want me to pass the phone over?"

"Nah just tell him that he needs to get his mums car pronto, apparently Finn's been trying to call him all day. He only just remembered that I called him for a pick up."

"Will do, is it ok if I stay at his tonight? I wanna help him dig a hole tomorrow."

"I guess just eat lots and txt if you start feeling antsy. Also remember I'll know if you have sex so don't." How the fuck am I supposed to take that?

"Sure thing Brit. I'll see you tomorrow." I hang up and jam the phone back in my pocket. "Well that was weird. Brittany says go get your mums minivan and that she will know if I have sex."

Puck chokes on his food at the last bit. He coughs and finally clears his throat. "Let's blow this joint."

Turns out sleeping on the pile of dirty clothes on Pucks floor isn't particularly comfortable. Weird that. He wakes me up with a gentle kick to the ribs.

"Up and at 'em lazy. You have a hole to dig today." I stagger into the bathroom, wash my face and chuck my hair into a messy bun. Alright I'm ready for the day. I don't have shoes so seeing as I slept in my clothes I'm ready to leave as well. I walk back into the bedroom about 30 seconds after I left. That has to be some kind of record for getting ready.

"Can't expect me to do anything on an empty stomach," I grin and rub my belly to emphasize.

"Are you serious? You ate like 3 pizzas yesterday,"

"That was like yesterday this is today, don't worry you can just get me a loaf of bread on the way."

"Fattie fattie fattie. Also jump out the window because my mum is home again." This reminds me that I need to ask Brittany when I can tell people I woke up from my coma. For now I open the window, peer out to make sure his mum isn't in view and jump. I forgot it was this high up but I roll and it's ok. I hear a noise and quickly run onto the street to wait for Puck.

"That was hardcore Fabray, thought you were gonna lower yourself and drop. Not full on fucking jump."

" What can I say, I'm awesome."

We get to the house. Turns out Puck forgot to mention it is a full pool this dude wants. It's going to be about 72 cubic meters of dirt that need to be moved. What a dick. We measure out the 6x8m hole that needs to be dug. He backs his truck up and gives me the spade and wheelbarrow. This is total bullshit. Digging this hole is worth way more than a phone.

"Right if you put the dirt in a pile here I'm going to get a new phone from the mall. See you in an hour." I give him a death glare but I totally talked myself into it yesterday so I can't complain. He blows me a kiss out the window as he tears off.

It's now two hours later and he hasn't show up again. I have made a pretty impressive hole in this guys lawn though. The rate I'm going it might even be possible to finish it in two days. I'm taking a sneaky drink from the garden hose because I'm fucking thirsty when I hear a low quiet voice.

"Quinn? Why are you making a hole in my lawn?" It's Dave Karofsky. I drop the hose and he sees it. "If you come inside for a break you can use a cup." This boy sounds nothing like the bully from school. I figure I'm already busted so I head in wiping my feet on the mat.  
He makes me toast which is sweet.

"I'm kinda skint at the moment. Basically I broke Puck's phone a few days back and offered to give him a hand with some work to make up for it." That is the sum total of explanation I give him. He looks out the window almost wistfully.

"Musta been some phone. Want a hand?" Something seems off. I have never gotten on with this boy and he helped torment the shit of the entire glee club. But now I'm sitting in his kitchen eating his food while he offers to help me for no discern able personal gain. He sees my hesitation. "I'm bored, lonely and need to answer the phone every thirty minutes. I'll also lend you shoes." It is the shoes that sell it. With shoes I'll be able to stomp the blade and get better digs going.

With two of us going for it we have it two thirds done by the time his dad comes home. He peers at Dave and into the hole, "I thought I hired the Puckerman boy to do this." He chucks some keys at me. " Can you dump the dirt by the motocross park? I was supposed to get a crew over there to redo the berms but got too much going on." After he walks inside Dave looks at me in amazement.

"He likes you. I don't think he has given keys to that ute to anyone before." I shrug and clamber out of the hole.

"Wanna help me dump the dirt then?" He looks way too excited for the simple question I asked.

"Yes but. Uh I'll ask."

I feel like I'm intruding when Dave goes to talk to his Dad, they both keep glancing out the window at me so I back the truck up to the pile of dirt and start shovelling it in. This is gonna take fucking heaps of trips. I get the bed full by the time Dave comes out.

"He said it's all good, also do you wanna stay for dinner?" Again with the Uncharacteristic behaviour, but I haven't seen Puck and I like the idea of avoiding Brit some more so

"Sure."

"Really? Cool, he said it will be after a few more runs."

It's weirdly easy hanging with Dave. He is completely quiet and doesn't care that I'm the same. The run is pretty simple. Drive down to the park, shovel dirt out near the fence, drive back refill tray. Repeat. On the second run we turn the radio on. Third, I hum along to the crappy pop. Forth and I'm singing and he is humming. We decide the fifth will be the last for the day. Driving down to the park I swear I saw Berry walking in the opposite direction. This lot I unload by myself as Dave claims his shoulder hurts. Personally I think he just wants to play with his phone in private but he didn't have to help me all day so I don't really mind. He is driving back and it's def the midget. She looks really sad with slumped shoulders and fuck in the street lights I think that's tears running down her face. I point her out as we drove past. To my complete and utter surprise Dave pulls over about two minutes walk ahead of her. "it's Finn problems," he says. My jaw drops. How the fuck does he know this. "I saw it on JBI's blog on my phone, something about famous people are either hotter or sluttier or they don't get to be famous. What do you want to do about it?"

"Me what? I just said she looked sad." How and why is this my responsibility? He looks vaguely disappointed.

"I thought you gleek freaks were supposed to help each other," he has me there. She wouldn't hesitate to help me. I can now see her in the rear view. He sighs and turns the engine back on. "Whatever not my problem." As the car starts so does the radio. " ...and here is a treat for all you directioners." I recognize the tune and grin.

"This is what I'll do." I crank the radio so it's blasting in the still night air. Opening my door I climb into the bed. Rachel is about 10m away at this point and I doubt she saw me with the way she is looking at the ground sniffling. I take a big breathe really fucking grateful there is no one here to see this.  
She can hear the music and looks up just as I start.

_You're insecure, don't know what for  
You're turning heads as you walk through the door or or_

I sing her the whole fucking song having as big of a stage presence as possible in from the back of a truck. Jumping down I go to give her a hug when it finishes. Dave nicely turns the radio down and engine off while we have our moment. I open my arms for a hug and get a slap instead.

"Ow," I work my jaw and try to figure out what's going on. She was sad so I did the glee thing and sang her a song. Sure I didn't rehearse it and I kind of figured to get some snide remark about going sharp but still. I whip my head around when I hear a snort from the truck.

"God can't you leave me alone for one night. I know this has to be some stupid game you and Finn cooked up. He was like oh no Quinn won't wake up now I'm sad and can tell Rach she was just the non pregnant consolation prize. Hey Rachel you should put out because you aren't hot enough to get away with teasing like Quinn. Oh Rachel don't walk out I'm only being honest. Oi Rachel I'm not chasing you cos I know you will be back begging for me I'm the best you can do." She pauses for a breath and I'm stunned. I hadn't realized Finn was such a dick. "So thanks for telling me you woke up. Guess our friendship really did mean nothing. Just climb back into Finn's truck and you can be on your merry cookie cutter way." She yells the last few sentences into my face. I don't think I've ever seen her this angry.

"It's not Finn's truck. I just saw you when we were driving and thought I should cheer you up."

"Oh so you just happened to drive up and down this road ten times, waiting until its dark to pull over and humiliate me?"

"Um yea, but without the humiliation part."

"And singing about my appearance after Finn told me I was worthless next to you, coincidence?" Fuck I really need to go put the beat down on Finn. Or make Puck do it because clearly everyone thinks I'm still in a coma and last year I wouldn't have had the strength or anger to give a good beating. Instead of answering her question I lean forward and kiss her. I wrap my arms around her small cold body and pull it into me. I hold the kiss and put all the energy I can into it. I put all the compassion and possession I can in. I slowly pull back, she looks a little dazed.

"You are not worthless. You are pretty and smart and talentful."

"That's not a word Quinn,"

I laugh, "See smart. Now come on we will drive you home."

She panicked at seeing the school bully driving but just sort of accepted it when I sat in the middle of the bench seat. With three people it was a bit cramped. I was hyper aware of her hand on my leg, it was pretty much burning a hole into my skin. Huge relief when we got to hers and she jumped out. I'm speechless as she presses a quick kiss to my cheek and says goodnight.

Dave's dad just gave us nuked leftovers which we wolfed down. "See you tomorrow Quinn?" the way Dave says it more of a hopeful question than statement so I nod yea. It's late so I pull my phone out and give Brits a call. "Wanna pick me up?" bitch bitch moan etc. "Alright I'll run back see you in 20."

**AN - Wooooo I had a productive day. Also I have come to the decision that I can move all my furniture into my younger sister's room while I am between flats, I haven't told her yet so shhh.**


End file.

Glee, Friendship, Humor