Angeles (Chapter Eight)

Chapter Eight: All Your Secret Wishes

London, England, 1348

She knows they’re watching her.

Rachel can feel their eyes on her as she walks towards the market. It is cold, and wet, and she can’t remember the last time she saw the sun.

Rachel stumbles a little as she tries to remember. It isn’t the first time she felt like that, as if there was a memory just out of her reach. Something about the sun… She glances towards the sky but there is nothing but grey mist above her.

Whatever thought she was struggling to find remains out of reach.

Rachel stands still for a moment, listening for something, but she doesn’t know what it is. It is eerily quiet, and yet she closes her eyes and just listens.

She makes a point of breathing quietly. She wants whatever it is to come to her. So she just focuses on her senses, on the fog  nipping at her clothes, on the feeling of the drizzle against her face. There is no wind, nothing to make the noise, but she can still feel the shift in the atmosphere.

When Rachel looks up again, there is a young man standing a few feet in front of her. He tilts his head in confusion.

“Hello, pet,” Finn says, and there’s a trace of something that sounds strangely like affection in his voice. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Have we met?” Rachel asks, looking up at him. He’s tall, tall enough that her neck almost hurts to look at him, and there’s something about his eyes – she doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Huh,” Finn says as he tilts his head. “Interesting. They did quite the number on you, didn’t they?”

Rachel takes a step back. She’s confused, and a little afraid, but the boy is just standing there, watching her. She doesn’t know what to make of him, and the way he’s looking at her suggests he feels the same.

“I mean, I’ve heard about what happened, because, well, who hasn’t?” He muses out loud. “I guess I just didn’t think it would happen to you, of all mortals, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t understand,” Rachel says. “What do you mean, of all mortals?”

Finn blinks at her.

“Exactly what you think I mean, pet,” he says. “Do you honestly have no memory at all?” He sniffs her direction then tilts his head. “I guess not.”

“Who are you?” Rachel asks. She wants to flee, get away from this stranger and his familiar darkness.

“Exactly who you think I am, pet,” he answers. His eyes flicker slightly and blackness swirls in them. A second later, they return to the original color, and Rachel is left wondering if she imagined it to begin with.

“I don’t know you,” Rachel says. “I never met you before, I swear. I promise I would remember if I had…”

Finn gives her a crooked half-smile.

“The ironic thing is, pet,” Finn says quietly, almost as if taunting her, “is that isn’t the first time you believed that.”

“Only mortals can do that, you know,” he says as he starts to disappear back into the fog. “Only they think they can believe in something only once. Others know better.”

Rachel stays where she is, watching him leave until she can no longer see his outline. She can feel the subtle shift in the atmosphere, as if something is changing but she doesn’t know what it is.

The cold continues to nip at her as Rachel starts walking towards the market.

& & &

The older blonde woman tilts her head as Rachel approaches.

“I’d like some bread, please,” Rachel says politely.

The woman hands it over to her and there’s something about her eyes, so blue, so clear, so… haunting? She doesn’t say anything but Rachel can’t help but wonder if there is some sort of test, that this woman is expecting something from her.

For a moment time seems to stand still around them. It feels as if something very, very important is happening, except that Rachel doesn’t understand any of it; she doesn’t know what is happening or how to stop it.

“Who are you?” Rachel whispers quietly. It is the same question she asked the boy on the way here.

The woman doesn’t answer and Rachel begins to suspect the woman didn’t hear her question. She turns to leave but she catches the woman’s eye one more time. The same look of quiet intrigue is in her eyes. As if she’s waiting for something again.

Rachel moves away, keeping eye contact with her the entire time.

Rachel doesn’t notice the blonde girl with hazel eyes standing a little to the side of the older woman. The girl is watching her, too.

& & &

“Well, Quinntus, I don’t know about you, but I find the human mind rather fascinating sometimes,” Sue comments as she watches Rachel make her way through the market.

Quinn grunts in acknowledgement but otherwise doesn’t say anything. Her gaze flickers back and forth between Rachel and the bread on the table. She wants to see Rachel but it hurts to look. It hurts to remember that Rachel doesn’t even know she exists anymore.

Every memory, every emotion had all been erased.

“She knows you’re here,” Sue says quietly, almost as a casual afterthought, but it’s enough to get Quinn’s attention. Sue glances at her then continues to track Rachel with her eyes.

“I mean, she doesn’t know you are here, but she knows someone is,” she continues. “That’s the thing about the human mind. Even when something has been erased there is still a trace that lingers. Some would say that taints the human mind and there’s certainly cause for that, but me, I find fascinating.”

Quinn stays silent, but Sue can tell from the way her jaw is clenched that the conversation is getting to her.

“Or maybe she finds it haunting,” Sue muses. “As I said, I find it fascinating. This acute sense of loss… It consumes her. It confuses her. It confuses them, too, sometimes, and maybe they’re not wrong, for once. How can you miss something you don’t remember?”

“I remember,” Quinn says quietly. “I remember everything.”

Sue glances at her. “Yes, so I’ve gathered. All you do is mope these days, like some star-crossed lover or something. A pity, really, you are such a magnificent creature and look what has become of you. Pathetic.”

“You made this happen,” Quinn snaps.

Anger flashes across Sue’s face.

“No, Quinntus,” she hisses. “You made this happen. You chose to make the deal. You could have said no, you could have refused, but you didn’t.” A moment later, Sue’s face softens. “Whatever became of Santana, Quinntus? The two of you were legendary together. Now look around you, she’s nowhere to be found.”

A muscle tightens in Quinn’s jaw.

“Now, now, Quinntus,” Sue smiles, “I thought we agreed not to lie to each other anymore. Where is Santana? Do tell…”

“She went away,” Quinn answers.

“That’s not what I asked,” Sue responds. “I asked where she is, not what she did.”

Quinn stays silent.

“Very well then,” Sue smiles. “She’s not here because you and I would both be able sense her if she was. She’s not in danger because if she was, you’d feel it, and with your emotions being the state that they are, even common mortals would be able to recognize something was wrong. Which leaves the two humans…”

“But no, she’s not with them,” she continues. “Not without you. She’s far too rash and unpredictable without you to keep her in line. Even Brittany wouldn’t be able to control her, and loss of control would endanger your little pet, and there’s no way you’d let that happen. So tell me, Quinntus, where is Santana?”

“I don’t know,” Quinn says through gritted teeth. “I told you, she went away.”

“And I told you not to lie to me,” Sue smiles as she leans forward towards Quinn. “Tell me where Santana is, Quinn. I do believe you when you say she went away but surely you must know where she went.”

“Why do you even care?” Quinn growls. Her body is almost vibrating from tension. Sue can barely contain her glee.

“Because I do, love,” she answers. “I foresaw great plans for her and I have every intention of her seeing them through. But I need to know where she is to… check on her progress, if you will.”

“What are you saying?”

“Exactly what you think I am, love.” Sue smirks at her. “Now tell me, Quinntus, where is Santana?”

“She went to pray,” Quinn answers. “She went to find a chapel and she went to pray.”

Horror crosses Sue’s face.

“Pray?” She repeats. “Santana went to pray? How… demeaning.”

“You took Brittany away from her,” Quinn reminds her. “It’s not like she has a lot left to believe in.”

Sue chuckles. “How cute,” she says, “that you think that Santana praying has anything to do with that little pet of hers. You and I both know better.”

“She loves Brittany,” Quinn defends.

“She hates Them,” Sue says. “Santana hates anything that takes away her independence. While I’m sure she feels affection for that human, it’s nothing in comparison to what she feels for Them. I mean she convinced you to switch off your humanity just because she knew just how much They’d hate it, and you want me to believe she loves Brittany more than that?”

“She wants to save Brittany.”

“Brittany makes her feel,” Sue corrects, “but what Santana wants more than anything is to feel nothing. Empathy makes her weak. Santana knows that. She can pray all she wants but empathy makes her human. She’s a lot of things but Santana is never that. You can’t pray away humanity, Quinntus, you should know that better than anyone.”

& & &

Quinn’s whole body is almost vibrating from tension as she stands at the entrance of the chapel.

She hates it, she positively hates it. She hates the memories she is associating with this place – her desperate need for forgiveness, the deal she made with Sue, forfeiting Rachel just to guarantee the sisters would live…

Quinn doesn’t have any good memories of the church; she isn’t convinced that will change today.

She pushes the door open and finds Santana lying on the bench, eyes closed. It is a quiet moment, almost even peaceful, but Quinn knows better. She knows that Santana is merely pretending, that there is no such thing as absolute salvation because it is both their nature, to seek something they can never have.

Love, forgiveness, is there really a difference between the two?

“You think too much,” Santana says, interrupting Quinn’s inner monologue.

“You don’t think enough,” Quinn points out as she sits down on the floor. It’s dirty, dusty, but also comforting. “Did you really think that Sue wouldn’t realize what you were doing?”

“I figured she’d have other things on her mind,” she answers, gesturing loosely in Quinn’s general direction. Her eyes are finally open but she’s looking at the ceiling.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on,” Santana sighs, “I can almost smell the remorse on you. You miss your little pet so much it’s starting to eat away at you. Your soul is gone and yet… You’re hurting. You miss something that doesn’t even remember you. I’d say it’s beneath you, if we haven’t been here before.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quinn growls, but it’s weak. She doesn’t mean it.

“The human mind is incredibly fragile,” Santana comments. “It’s ridiculously easy for the likes of you and me to manipulate it. It’s something so, so sacred to them but we can bend it at a whim. But their soul – their very essence – that is far, far more interesting. Especially when it becomes tethered and the like.”

“You feel it, don’t you?” She continues. “It’s a part of you right now, this … emptiness. It hurts. And you’re not supposed to feel. Neither of us. And yet we do. It’s no wonder, really, that we’re here right now, in this church, because we are the most powerful creatures and yet we are feeling.”

“Sue said you wanted to pray away your humanity,” Quinn says softly. “Do you?”

“Don’t you?”

“No,” Quinn answers after a moment. “I don’t. I don’t… like feeling like this, but it will fade, it always does. And then it’ll be like before.”

“They come back, Santana,” she says as she moves towards the door. “They always do. You and I have always been able to hold onto that much. They always come back to us. We just need to… wait it out, or something.”

“Don’t give me that self-righteous crap!” Santana snaps. “They don’t always come back.”

“It was one time,” Quinn says as she walks back towards where Santana is still lying on the bench. “It was one time, and we … It was one time. It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t give me that,” Santana repeats. “You and I both know it could, and will, happen again because you crave it, that darkness is a part of you and you can’t stay away from it. It’s like a … drug to you, or something.”

“The trouble with soul mates,” Santana says quietly, “is that there’s the word soul in there. And you don’t have one anymore.”

Quinn shakes her head as she gets up and moves towards the exit. Her jaw is clenched, anger and frustration clearly written on her face. She pushes the door open and almost knocks into a girl on the other hand.

“Sorry,” she says, without even looking at her.

Brittany watches her go, confused, before turning and walking back to the farmhouse.

& & &

“There was this girl in front of the chapel on the moor,” Brittany says to Rachel as they light the fire in the farmhouse. “She looked rather sad.”

“Did you talk to her?” Rachel asks.

“No,” Brittany answers. “But she still looked very sad. It was in her eyes, I could tell.”

Rachel hums in agreement but doesn’t say anything. Her mind is still on the encounter in the market. She wants to talk about it but doesn’t really know what it all means: the tall boy with his mocking words, the familiar blonde woman with blue eyes, the word games they were both set on playing with her…

“Tell me about this girl,” Rachel says. She needs the distraction.

“I don’t think I’ve seen her before, but she still looked familiar,” Brittany says. “She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there but something was keeping her there, and although she wanted to run far away from London there was a reason she had to stay. And she both hates and loves that reason.”

“You could tell all that just by looking at her, Brittany?” Rachel laughs softly.

“It was in her eyes,” Brittany insists. “It was this mixture of green and gold, I’ve never seen it before. I’ve never seen sadness that intense before.”

“Good thing she was in the chapel, then,” Rachel comments. “Maybe she will find whatever she’s looking for.”

“I don’t think so,” Brittany says, looking at the fire. Rachel glances at her from the corner of her eye, and Brittany’s head is tilted, almost as if she is listening to what the fire had to say. “She didn’t seem like the person who would speak to God, you know.”

“So why was she there?” Rachel asks.

“I don’t know,” Brittany says. “Her eyes were just very sad. I’ve never seen sadness that intense before. It was like her… soul was hurting, or something.”

She glances at Rachel, who has one hand on her heart, as if it is hurting, too.

& & &

“Well, I don’t know about you, Santana, but just being here makes me feel filthy,” Sue Sylvester says as she appears next to the angel. “Honestly, it feels like the desperation is tainting my very soul.”

“You have no soul,” Santana points out. She doesn’t open her eyes. She can sense Sue right next to her.

“Mere technicality,” Sue shrugs, “it’s not like it has stopped me before from sensing things, if you know what I mean.”

“Why are you here?” Santana asks. “Quinn already came.”

For a moment, Sue doesn’t answer, seemingly content with just observing the chapel. She sits very still next to Santana, almost as if she is letting the air move around them. Santana continues to keep her eyes closed.

“I’ve heard about it, you know,” Sue says quietly, “everyone has. The girl who listened to angels – that doesn’t happen very often, you know, so of course when it did… One notices these sorts of things. But what I thought was interesting was, well, no one really wondered what happened when the angels stopped talking back.”

“There’s noise all around us,” she continues casually. “You and I hear so, so much more than the common human so one has to wonder how they feel about silence. There’s always noise, even in complete silence.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Santana protests.

“Your little human listened to angels,” she says. “It made the Gods most uncomfortable, but really, the question they should have been asking is what happened to her when the angels stopped talking back? What happened to those voices?”

Santana doesn’t say anything, keeps her eyes closed. She starts to count in her head. One, two, three. She doesn’t know what exactly it is that she is counting, just that the rhythm is important.

She feels more than sees Sue getting impatient and begin to pace.

“I don’t have time for games,” Sue growls.

“You still haven’t told me what you wanted,” Santana says quietly.

“I shouldn’t have to!”

Santana keeps herself very, very still. She wishes – she wishes that Quinn were there, because the other angel was always better at handling Sue when she was like this. Right now Sue is angry, ready to lash out over something Santana doesn’t quite understand, and she doesn’t know how to read the signs.

Quinntus always could.

“You are so pathetic,” Sue snarls at Santana. “Look at you, praying among this disgusting filth as if it will somehow erase the harm you have caused. As if you can somehow be redeemed for your sins.”

“Have you forgotten what you have done?” Sue continues. “Do you want me to remind you? I haven’t forgotten, Santana, in fact I remember everything, do you?”

“Do you remember Troy?” She taunts. “Oh, Santana, it was glorious, the way you played with that girl’s head. What was her name again? Cassandra, was it not? Oh, really, how you gave her that gift of foresight but it wasn’t that that destroyed her, was it? No, Santana, you were brilliant, really, you were, how you made sure no one would believe her visions…”

“Stop it,” Santana says. It is a plea more than a demand.

“No wonder Quinn’s little pet expressed such concern when she found her sister was talking to angels.” Sue continues as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “You know, what with having been there before in a previous life and all that.”

“Brittany isn’t Cassandra,” Santana defends weakly. “Neither of them are.”

“Let’s hope not, I mean, we both know how that particular story plays out,” Sue shrugs. “But you have to give yourself credit. I mean, you accused Quinntus of being addicted to darkness but it is nothing compared to your enjoyment of simply… watching what happens when others are stripped of their minds.”

“We both find the human mind fascinating,” Sue concludes. “At the end of the day, we have at least that much in common.”

“What do you want,” Santana pleads. She just wants it to stop. She lives with the guilt enough as it is without constantly being reminded of what she has done.

“The pets don’t remember you and honestly I think that is for the best,” Sue nods to herself. “I mean, really, think of it like this, if they remember then they’ll start to question things, and it is just so much harder to control someone’s destiny when they are going around talking about fate and the like.”

“I don’t understand,” Santana says.

Sue smiles.

“I don’t think they should remember,” she repeats. “But if their memory were to… say, receive a jolt, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” A look of confusion flashes across Santana’s face.

“Be creative,” Sue says. “I remember how much you like it when you’re given free reign.”

& & &

Rachel and Brittany are still sitting in front of the fire when they hear a knock on the door.

“Is it Mother?” Brittany asks. Rachel frowns.

“I don’t think so,” she answers. “She said she wouldn’t be back for another few days.”

They wait a little longer, and almost believe whoever it was has gone away before the knocking resumes.

“We should go see who it is,” Brittany presses. “They might need something.”

“I don’t know…” Rachel hesitates. There is something just on the edge of her memory. Something tells her they have been before, but she can’t remember what it is or why it is so important.

The memory stays just beyond her grasp.

“We should answer the door,” Brittany repeats, as the knocking continues.

Rachel sighs as she moves towards the door, Brittany lurking behind her. It is raining outside, as it has been the past few weeks. Another memory… Something to do with rain… But it is gone once more.

They open the door to find a girl with dark hair and brown eyes staring back at them.

She looks pitiful, and miserable, and so completely alone that Brittany knows they will be inviting her in before Rachel even steps aside.

“What’s your name?” Rachel asks politely. The girl hesitates, looking at her hand. It is a similar look of confusion, of intrigue, and Rachel struggles to remember where she has seen it before.

A blonde girl with hazel eyes, watching the rain… But the memory escapes before she can fully comprehend it.

“Tina,” the girl answers. Another look of confusion passes across her features. “But I think my real name is Cassandra.”


Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten

Disclaimers:
- Don't own Glee. Don't want to own Glee
- Title of the chapter is taken from the song "Angeles" by Elliot Smith
- Special thanks to Erika for looking it over
- Cassandra is taken from the line from Oscar Wilde: "Cassandra saw the future but was never believed". It's a Greek tale which takes place during the battle of Troy. Apollo had fallen in love with Cassandra but she rejected his advances, as punishment he gave the gift of foresight but cursed her so she would never be believed until it was too late. It drove her to insanity.