AN: This is the final chapter. I f*cked you over big time. Prepare to be Dallased.

Chapter-Whatever-it-is, Posted: 05.12.12, Rated M or some sh*t.

Finn looked more than a little confused when the blonde girl introduced herself and promptly began running her fingers up and down his bicep.
He wasn't one to question things like this, though, so he smiled and flexed just a little bit.
It couldn't hurt.
The rest of the club looked on in varying states of disgust.

Puck yawned and stretched an arm over the back of Jessie's chair only to discover that she wasn't in it. Nor was she anywhere else in sight. He shrugged and moved on to Mercedes who seemed to be torn between being repulsed by the boy, flattered at the attention she was finally receiving or pissed off at being cut off mid-rant.
Kurt didn't notice that she'd stopped speaking.
If you cut off a zombie's head, is it, like, double dead or is it still just regular undead but you can't tell because it can't use its body anymore?
What an awful fate!

Tina was writing in a black, leather-bound journal and ignoring everyone and everything.
Mike and Matt were doing whatever it is that minor characters do.
Santana was trying to pretend that Brittany's hand wasn't up her skirt.
Artie was slowly becoming more and more of a sexist arse hole.
Mr. Shuester was rubbing his stomach through his vest and remembering what it was like to have muscles.
Quinn was fidgeting in his seat as Ryan wrote in his notebook in the row ahead.

Glee ended pretty quickly which was good because it was boring.
Ryan took his time putting away his things, giving Quinn time to wait for everyone else to leave before approaching him.

"Hey, Ryan," Quinn said quietly "I was thinking that I might take you on that date you wanted today. If you want to. But you don't have to. But I'd like it if you did."

Ryan looked up at the still pink-haired boy.
"Sure, Quinn. That sounds nice. Pick me up at seven?"

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

Ryan sat on his bed waiting for Quinn.
He was rather looking forward to this evening.
He'd had to drop a lot of hints to his boyfriend to get him to finally ask him of a date.
Actually, he'd given up on the hints and resorted to blatant demands.
Either way, it worked.

Quinn knocked on the front door and waited a full minute and a half for Ryan to answer.
He'd only been to Ryan's house once before and that hadn't ended so well.
This time was going to be different.
This time, Quinn would get the sex he wanted so badly.

"Quinn, hi, how are you?" the singer smiled.

"Um…ok, thanks." Quinn answered "I don't really know what to get a guy for a date and, like, flowers or chocolates seemed stupid so…um…here." he said, holding out a can of lynx body spray.

Ryan stared at it for a moment before looking up at Quinn who seemed uncomfortable.
He decided not to question it and simply took the can, placing it on the table inside the door.

"Well, let's go then shall we?" he asked.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

"Mmmm, right there." Quinn moaned as Ryan kissed his neck.

They had watched half of the film playing in the cinema in silence before Quinn's awkwardness annoyed Ryan and he decided to put an end to it the obvious way.

"Why were you so uncomfortable?" Ryan whispered into Quinn's ear.

Quinn took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding.
"I've…um…never been on a date before."

Ryan pulled away.
"Never?"

Quinn shook his head shyly.

"Well then I'd better make this one memorable for you." Ryan husked.

A hand was slid into trousers, a head rolled back, an angry "Shhhhh!" was hissed, a drink was spilled, a phone beeped, a text was read, the hand was removed, and exasperated groan sounded, a pink-haired boy was dragged out by a brunette, a butterfly flapped its wings and an earthquake destroyed a barn in Japan.

"Why are we leaving?" Quinn whined.

"Someone needs accompaniment." Ryan answered "The psychic band? Remember?"

Quinn stared.
"What!?"

Ryan just pushed him into the passenger seat of his car and drove them to their destination.

It turned out that Jessie was the one in need of backing music.
Bloody Broadway types.
She was singing to a bewildered Karofsky about her intense love for him.
They played some terrible love song from the shadows as the poor idiot looked around for help.
Quinn didn't think he knew the song but he somehow managed to play it perfectly on an instrument he'd never even seen before.
Black magic. It's the only explanation.

Afterwards, they made their way back to Ryan's house where they kissed chastely and said their goodbyes.
And then Quinn spent twenty minutes in his car trying to get rid of that damn erection from the partial hand job he'd received.
The date was memorable alright.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

"San…San…San…San…San…Sa - "

"What, Britt?"

"Do you like this?"

"Yeah it's awesome."

"What about this?"

"That's awesome too."

"And this?"

"Britt! Baby, please, stop asking me if I like it. If you're doing it, I like it."

"What about if I was dressed as a duck?"

"Then I'd still like it."

"What if I stapled you to the ceiling, set you on fire and jabbed twenty seven rusty katanas through your scorched flesh in front of a bunch of school kids while Jacob Ben Israel filmed it all without any clothes on and coach Sylvester shouted insults at you while wearing Mr. Schue's skin as a cape?"

Santana didn't achieve orgasm that night.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

"We should have sex." Quinn whispered into Ryan's ear as the glee club did anything but sing around them.

"There should be less war in the world." Ryan whispered back.

Santana looked on with narrowed eyes.

"Sanny, you're doing the eye thing again. Are you ok?"

"Britt, you know I love you but I just can't look at you right now. I need some time apart to get over the horrific images you conjure up in that sick, sick mind of yours. I hope you understand."

"Totally, baby! I'll just be over here, imagining what you look like naked."

"But you know what I look like naked. You could just remember it."

"I mean 'without-skin' naked."

Santana would never tell Puck why she looked so pale when she went to sit next to him but years later, while visiting his blonde cheerleader friend in the clink, Brittany would reveal to him what she'd said that day.

It would later come up again in his suicide note after he murdered all those children.

"Alright, maggots! Listen up! This is Sue's show now! Everyone who's fat, get out! Everyone who's ugly, get out! Everyone who's annoying, get out! Everyone with a stupid haircut, get out! Everyone - Oh, wait, that is everyone…Everyone, get out!"

"Sue, don't you think -"

"William, I am a doer, not a thinker. Do you know who was a thinker?"

"…Albert Einstein?"

"Right! And where did it get him? Nowhere! Now get out of my new Sue Sylvester Appreciation room!"

"NO!" bellowed Matt "We don't have to listen to you! You're just a comedic antagonist who…has no…thingydoodle…caramel…washing machine…" and then he faded into nothing.

"What the Hell just happened!?" Mike cried but he, too, fell victim to the mysterious fade.

"Oh no! They're getting rid of the minor and secondary characters! I'm too young to faaaaade!"
There goes Puck.

Mercedes faded next, to which Kurt let out a sigh of relief before fading himself.

Artie had the gall to look surprised when he began to peter out. Like he thought he was an important part of the story or something.

Brittany's grinning image seemed to flicker for a second before disappearing along with a terrified Santana.

Finn and Sam were locked in a passionate smooch as they faded and Sue and Schue did the same. Gross, right?

Jessie hadn't shown up today but she probably faded too. Who cares?

Ryan dropped to his knees and threw his hands in the air as his edges became fuzzy.
"I was meant to be a star, dammit!" he cried before he was gone.

"Great, now how am I going to get laid?" Quinn huffed as he became transparent.

In the silence of the once-full choir room, a lone figure closed its leather-bound book and calmly stood.
"How come when I auditioned I was a punk and then I was suddenly goth and then Asian vampire? They're not the same, people. They're not the same."
And then Tina was gone too.

The room was calm and still and quiet and so much better than it had been before.
All those fucking teenagers were getting on my nerves.
And then there was the smell of blackcurrant squash and the air felt like copper oxide.
The ground opened up and sucked everything in so it was upside-down inside the Earth and everything tasted like a cross between Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in green crayon and How To Teach Quantum Physics To Your Dog by Chad Orzel read by the peanut m&m.

It was hot and cold like when you come in from the snow and your feet start to thaw out and it feels like they might be burning but they're really freezing.

And then the feet fall off and grow legs that grow legs that grow legs in a fractal-like fashion that would give M. C. Escher a seizure.

And then Escher throws himself down those damn stairs and his bloody, mangled corpse keeps falling forever, hitting the edge of every step and splitting his skull further and further apart until tiny Phil Collins that was controlling him falls out and starts jamming along to You'll Be In My Heart from Tarzan.

And Tarzan punches Escher's corpse in the face, grabs some of the fractal legs and bends them into Möbius Strips for the new Doctor Who to wear around his warped head.

And Doctor Who takes the Möbius Strips into the TARDIS and destroys the universe.

The universe breaks into eleven separate verses and each verse is from a different Disney song and they all play together to create the ultimate Disney medley.

The medley, which exists outside of the fractured universe, inspires Escher to draw those damn stairs which later kill him causing the medley to be created which leads to the stairs being drawn which leads to the medley which leads to the stairs which lead to more stairs which lead to more stairs which lead to the first stairs which lead to more stairs…

And the cast of Lost fell upwards out of the ground through the hole in the space-time continuum thus setting right the wrongs of that awful final episode.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

"Baby…Baby…Babe! Wake up!"

"Wha - B, what is it? What's wrong?"

"It happened again." the blonde replied.

"B, it's just a dream. Go back to sleep."

"But San! It was so real!"

The covers were thrown back, a tired body was stretched out (and leered at) and a comforting hand was placed on a shoulder.

"It was a dream, Brett," the Latino stated "None of it was real. There is no Jessie, no Finn, no singing-dancing-gay-club, there's no such thing as a cheer-leader or high-school and you are not a girl."

"But what if it was real and this isn't!?" Brett cried.

Santiago pressed a firm kiss to his lips.
"Does that feel real to you?" he asked gently and waited for his boyfriend's nod "Then stop worrying."

The blonde nodded and flopped onto the bed as his lover walked over to open the curtains.

As he looked out over the rolling, blue hills to the double sunrise in the distance, he couldn't help but feel like life wasn't meant to be any other way.

AN: And they were in space the whole time.

I actually have a great idea for Tina and her diary but it might just stay in my head forever.

I also could do a couple of one-shots later on from this dream-verse that include all the filth that I was too lazy to put in here.

Anyway, this is what happens when you start a story and don't have a clear plan in mind. Tell me how pissed off you are.