Well, that took a while, right? Really sorry but been quite hectic with tests and I have exams in 2 weeks so but still my muse's been going crazy, all these ideas in my head.. only problem is writing them down, but I'm trying!
Disclaimer: I don't any of the main characters!
After the 'bloody' incident – which they did not talk about due to Santana -, Quinn fully lost her Faith in the Government; the increased missing-people-reports on television or radio didn't aid either.
The blonde didn't hear much of her Running lover throughout the next following months and it scared her to death as the fights between the Runners and the cops sometimes heated up to right-out shooting wars with multiple fatal victims on both sides.
The next time Santana popped her head inside the window, Quinn immediately pulled her into a passionate embrace, pulling the brunette to the bedroom without protest.
"Wow.." Santana panted, staring at the beige ceiling of Quinn's room, the blonde's head nuzzled under her chin.
"Yeah.." the said woman breathed out, her fingers unconsciously playing with a few locks of dark brown hair: "That was..-"
"Amazing?" the Runner raised an amused brow, placing her hand securely around the blonde's shoulder, pulling her even closer.
"Yeah.." Quinn repeated again, smiling despite herself as she listened to the brunette's steadying breaths; she felt like she could stay here forever.
Police sirens, far away from them, blemished that heavenly feeling and gnawed at the blonde's heart.
The Runner hummed softly which vibrated through her chest, tickling Quinn's cheek.
"I'm scared.." the blonde whispered in the tiniest voice, not daring to lift her eyes.
"Why?" Santana asked, very much oblivious: "Those sirens are coming from Old Town, they won't come here so there's no need to be afraid."
"You don't understand," the blonde sighed, sitting up with her back to the Runner.
The brunette frowned confused: "Then explain."
Quinn took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come: "I'm not scared for myself, I'm scared for you."
"I still don't under-"
"I want you to stop Running."
The volume of this statement couldn't even be called a whisper, but still Santana had heard it loud and clear and it gripped at her painfully.
She stared at Quinn's back for what seemed endless seconds in deafening silence, trying to process the situations.
"I can't do that.."
Quinn closed her eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek at the answer she had been fearing but wishing she wouldn't hear, unfortunately.
"I won't do that!"
Santana voice was stern and even a little angry as she got up from the bed and started gathering her clothes, carelessly throwing them on.
"Why not?" Quinn countered, rubbing the tear away before turning around.
"What would I be, if not a Runner?" the brunette grumbled as she struggled with buttoning her shirt properly.
"You could be with me," the blonde offered softly as she rose from her spot to aid her lover by buttoning the shirt, letting her fingers touch tan skin lightly now and then.
"You mean I could hide here. Look at me, Quinn, I can't have normal life; not until the Government is overthrown!"
She rolled up her sleeves, the tattoo on her right arm almost shining in the moonlight flittering through the curtains before she pulled up her pants angrily.
"I just don't want to lose you," Quinn tried to place a hand on Santana's cheek, to calm her down, but it was violently batted away.
Santana glared at her before she headed towards the living room, to her window.
"What if you fall?" was yelled after her: "What if you misplace your foot, just once? What if your arms get tired and fail to pull you up? What if your grip on one of those tubes you swing around, weakens for the slightest moment?… What if you fall?"
Santana balled her fists, practically fuming: "Are you hearing yourself? You are weak, you'd rather hide than fight for what you know is right!"
Quinn's eyes fell to the ground in shame.
"Well, I would rather die knowing I fought for something than live a miserable life with you!"
She knew they weren't true, these words leaving her mouth, but it was for the best; the fairytale had gone on long enough, it would have been only a matter of time before the police had figured it out and Santana wouldn't let them hurt Quinn.
"Just leave then!" Quinn shouted at her, hurt etched in every fiber of her being.
Santana complied and climbed out of the window, jumping away from that one open window, her open window, hearing some more shouting behind her: 'Don't ever come back!'
She clenched her jaw together and leapt to the next building, running and jumping from roof to roof until her muscles burned and cried out at her to stop.
Quinn told herself not to cry, she wouldn't give in to her sadness and sudden loneliness because she had been the one to kick Santana out but still she found herself in front of her television, crying at movies like Charlotte's Web with a huge bucket of ice cream melting on her lap.
It wasn't until a special visitor climbed through her window, which she hopefully still hadn't locked, that her world shook out of the ice-cream-eating pattern.
"Who are you?" Quinn's voice quivered as she defensively held out her spoon at the intruder, a young, tall woman with Runner's tattoos on her left cheek, her light blonde hair loosely waving in the wind coming from the open window .
"My identity does not matter," she said softly: " Yours on the other hand does. Are you Quinn Fabray?"
The blonde nodded slowly, standing up from the couch, still holding out the spoon: "Now tell me who you are."
"As I said before, that is irrelevant," the Runner said calmly, her deep blue eyes holding Quinn's as she slowly approached.
"St-stay there!" the later blonde sputtered, scared out of her wits: "I'm warning you, I will call the police!"
The Runner stopped momentarily, canting her head lightly and smiling amused before she suddenly charged at Quinn, pinning her to the wall before she could even react.
Quinn's scream for help was effectively muffled as the Runner pressed their lips together, not waiting for permission to deepen the kiss but just pushing through the pair of lips into Quinn's mouth.
The smallest blonde moaned involuntarily before trying to push free from the powerful hold – to no avail.
Finally, the Runner broke the kiss, yet still holding Quinn close; luckily because the blonde didn't trust her own legs enough to carry her.
"An indirect kiss from Santana," the tallest blonde whispered, running a single digit over Quinn's swollen lower lip.
Quinn's heart clenched painfully at the mention of that name and blinded by sheer want, her hands found their way to the other's neck before she pulled their mouths together once more.
The Runner finally, after lots of nagging, identified herself as Brittany, a friend and occasional lover of Santana.
"Why are you here, Brittany?" Quinn questioned, pouring herself and the other blonde a glass of water.
"Santana," the Runner answered simply before drinking her whole glass at once.
Quinn swallowed once: "What about her?"
"She hasn't been herself these last weeks: she's reckless, taking missions she never would before, doing stuff as if she wants the cops to find her, Running in broad daylight in view of everyone then killing off them blue guys who're sent after her mercilessly," Brittany explained, noticing Quinn's flinches: "Last week she came to me, covered in blood from god knows how many people, and took me on the cold floor of some torn-down building, not once looking at me, yet she cried out your name."
Quinn felt disgusted at the image popping up in her head, a bitter taste forming in her mouth as she spoke: "What do you want from me?"
"You must stop her before she gets herself killed," the Runner stated as a-matter-of-factly, as if this was a daily conversation.
"What can I do against a Runner on the loose?"
"You can start by not only seeing her as a Runner," Brittany said bitterly: "She is broken in so many ways, on so many levels and unfortunately you're the only person who can mend her."
The tallest blonde stood up abruptly, grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling something upon in before stepping towards the window: "Come to the address in two days when it gets dark."
"Wait, I.." Quinn halts as the Runner is already gone and out of hearing-range.
She slumps back into her seat, absentmindedly running the address through her finger.
Brittany has made her intro, hmm, interesting? Yes/No?
Reviews = love and love= Happy!Me and Happy!Me = more stories! Keep in mind ;)
Thanks for reading, you've just made my day!