Black Keys
Black Keys
Tagline: "A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."
Summary: Love and Lust. Determination and Desire. Feelings and Sex. Student and Teacher. Right and Wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.
Spoilers: None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully AU
Rated: Mature Audiences Only!
Pairing: Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Chapter Eight: All At Once
Part A
The only downside to being able to forget every worry the night before is being forced to remember everything the morning after. Quinn Fabray knows this better than anyone. As the dawn of the morning breaks¸ she finds herself being forced to remember every little painful detail about her life, even the details that she wishes she could forget.
She remembers the way that she leaned into Rachel yesterday after rehearsals, the way that her intoxicating scent filled her nose and the hidden giggle echoed in the back of her throat. She remembers the way that her skin felt pressed against hers, the way the rush of desire pulsed through her veins and the passionate fire ached in the pit of her stomach. She remembers the way that her hoarse voice whispered her name, the way their lips met together in a fury of a rush of lust and desire. She remembers how easy it was to forget with her and how it absolutely terrified her.
She also remembers rejecting her; she remembers how she told her she couldn’t see her anymore, and the drunken voicemail that must have sounded so desperately stupid to the brunette diva. Quinn remembers all of it, every pain staking detail, no matter how badly she wishes that for one small second in her life, she could forget it all.
New York.
Rachel.
Everything.
Quinn steps out of her red, slightly dingy car with a disgruntled sigh, her joints popping at the forced movement. As the gleaming sun basks over the crowded parking lot of McKinley High, she takes a moment to glance over the crowds of people around her. Some of the fellow teachers stand idly by a white Chevy Impala, sipping on their mugs which she assumes to be filled with coffee. A few feet away, a crowd of students chatter at the entrance of the school, waiting until the last possible second to march themselves into the eight hour prison. She remembers when she felt the same way as they did; hell, she still feels that way.
She brushes her golden mane away from her face with a grumbling curse that she expects no-one to hear. Sometimes she wonders how she ended up here, back at McKinley High. And sometimes, she would give anything to forget the reason that brought her back.
Quinn grabs her bag from the passenger’s seat of her car, quickly tossing it over her shoulder and across her chest. Rummaging inside, she grabs the infamous folder of sheet music and closes the door behind her, locking it with a swift turn of the key. She turns around, squinting at the harsh sun as she breathes in the slightly polluted air.
Today is a brand new day.
A new day to avoid the scene that unfolded yesterday in the music room.
A day to try her hardest to ignore any and all feelings that she has for Rachel Berry.
She just wishes it was that easy, she wishes that she could be able to forget anything and everything that the dazzling brunette has ever made her feel. She wishes that she could just ignore the thousands of strings that continuously pull the two of them together; despite the situation.
But forgetting Rachel Berry is a lot like forgetting what happened in New York City.
Impossible.
She enters the school with a disheartening sigh; she wishes this could be so much easier. That she did not have to work in a place that was full of kids so much younger than she, kids that do not understand how good they truly have things. Kids who are reckless and cocky and innocent, kids who have their entire lives before them full of dreams and hopes and chances. She wishes that she did not have to be in a place that is a constant reminder of everything that she has ever lost.
Quinn grumbles a soft curse that just misses every one’s ears as she clutches tight to the folder in her arms. Glancing around the slightly crowded hallways, she does not see Rachel and she knows that now is her chance. Now is her chance to make a break for it and avoid all confrontation with the brunette. Now is her chance to pretend like nothing ever happened.
And her plan would have been flawless, truly, if the final bell had not rung at that exact moment.
A rush of crowding adolescents push past her; elbows and feet flying in every direction, shoving and cursing wildly at the realization that they are late once more. She is unable to withstand the rush of bodies and forcefully accidental attacks that are somewhat similar to a stampede of wild bulls and she is sent tumbling in every direction. With another shove, she is sent tumbling into another human body, sending both of them onto the ground, their things flying in every direction but the right one. A disgruntled curse falls from Quinn’s lips as her body reacts to the tumble in sharp, shooting pain, wincing at the radiating pain that aches through her right arm.
And then… silence.
The once hustle and bustle of the hallway is now ceased.
Teenagers are gone.
All, however, expect one.
“I am so sorry about that. I never realized that kids here are so eager to get to class. It is like feeding time at the zoo or something,” Quinn apologizes in a husky groan, pulling herself up in a sitting position as she reaches for her folder. She had never been one to believe in fate or destiny but this moment make just actually convince her otherwise.
“I suppose this is some poorly thought out plan to gain my attention to make an apology for the drunken voicemail that you left me last night isn’t it?” Immediately, Quinn looks up to find the brunette sitting across from her, her brow furied together in annoyance. Fate had brought Quinn Fabray to Rachel Berry the first time and fate had brought them together now. Quinn groans, raking her nails through her blond hair as she lays the disorganized folder in her lap, studying her now trembling hands.
“I am thinking that types like you do not make apologizes that often but normally they start with I am sorry, not with avoiding eye contact with me like I am some unfortunate leaper of some sort,” Rachel states, breaking the sigh and Quinn rolls her eyes in frustration, tugging at the blond curls between her fingers.
“I am sorry that I left you an inappropriate voicemail and I promise that it will not happen anymore. There, is that what you wanted to hear?” Quinn snaps the acid in her voice even surprising herself. Almost instantly, the hardness of Rachel’s face falters, her lips become pursed ad she recoils at the sound of the anger in the blonde’s voice.
“No. That is not what I wanted to hear. I mean, it was an excellent apology and I graciously accept. But that isn’t what I wanted. What I wanted was for you to say that you made you a mistake in saying what you did, that we aren’t a mistake. I wanted you to tell me why you left me a drunken voicemail, why you were drinking in the first place when you knew that you had class this morning. I wanted you to tell me why you freaked out so badly at the thought of us being together or even being friends. I know that I am not the most socially beloved at this school but I did not think any of that mattered to you,” Rachel explains with a wrinkled brow. Quinn sighs, seemingly annoyed with the statement as she shifts her weight awkwardly, reaching for her bag that is scattered onto the floor.
“Berry, you know why we can’t do this,” Quinn sighs and Rachel only shakes her head.
“I know that people would talk and I think that is what you are afraid of. I am not saying that you and I have to be romantically involved, because even I am not sure if I am ready for such an emotional commitment. But what I am asking is that you should give us a chance to figure out what we are and where we stand. A chance to figure out what we are, to figure out who we are. I am asking that you give me a chance to be a friend to you. I know that something happened in your past that has put you off with everyone else but I am not like everyone else. I am not someone who is going to just give up because you say so. I care about you and I know that somewhere inside of you, you care about me too.” Rachel states in a huff, grabbing her History book and clutching it within her hands. For a moment there is silence, a quiet silence that is enough to stop her heart and make her question everything in her life.
For a moment, there is no amount of words that could be said that could bring the two women closer; because they are already separated by thousands of unspoken words and emotions.
Because now they are separated by the truth that Quinn will do anything to keep her from knowing.
“You are Rachel Barbara Berry. You are the star of the Glee club. You are the one who has these big dreams to be on Broadway and see her name flashing in the bright lights of New York City. You have such big dreams and I am not going to be the one who stands in the way of that. You don’t know what happened in my past and you don’t know how it has affected me. You know nothing about me. What happened yesterday was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened and it will not happen again. Do you understand me? As for friends? We can’t be that. We can’t be anything, Rachel. I am your teacher. And our relationship has to stop there for your own sake,” Quinn explains, licking her dry lips as she sucks in a long breath. She does not expect her to understand this, because how could she? How could she understand something that even she does not understand herself? She feels the thousands of strings that pull them together, she feels the rush, the want, the desire, but she also knows that she is no good for Rachel. No matter how badly she wishes that she could be.
“You know what I think? I think you are scared. I think you felt something yesterday when we kissed…” She is interrupted however, when Quinn dives on top of her¸ both of their bodies tumbling onto the floor as Rachel mumbles something beneath Quinn’s hand that is inaudible. Hazel eyes are glaring into a pair of deep russet brown and for a moment, even if it is a brief moment, the world seems to slow around them. Although they are the only two in the hallway, it is as if they are the only two in the world.
For a moment, there is only Quinn and Rachel. No labels. Just human beings.
“You can’t say that here. You never know who might be listening,” Quinn scolds and Rachel rolls her eyes, pulling out from beneath the hand.
“Oh, I am sorry. I did not realize that our agreement to show affection would be bad for your name. We did something that people have been doing since the beginning of time. The French do it twice as often as we do. You are the one who was more dominant than I was in the first place and now are hiding from it because of what? A label? What people think? What society thinks? None of that should matter, what should matter is what you think,” exclaims Rachel and Quinn looks her, her eyes beginning to droop a little. Her lips move to form words, however, none come out because she does not have the words. She does not have the words to explain to Rachel how someone who seemed so strong before truly isn’t, to explain to her that this is not about society but this is about what is best for her, about protecting her. Slowly, Quinn rises up from the brunette, shaking her head softly as she pushes herself up onto her feet. She extends her hand down to Rachel who simply looks up at her, a wrinkled brow in confusion.
“I think that you are already late for class. There is no need to make you any later than you already are. That is not very professional of you to keep someone waiting,” Quinn sighs and Rachel shakes her head, placing her palm within Quinn’s as she allows the blond to lift her from the floor.
“Mr. Jamison is not going to mind that I am not there on time for his class. I am sure he does not even notice me. He is always too busy staring at Santana’s boobs,” She explains with a shrug of her shoulders and Quinn chuckles a quiet laugh. The sound quickens Rachel’s heart beat and creates butterflies in the pit of her stomach; she never knew that a sound, other than Barbara Streisand’s voice, of course, could make her feel so good inside. Quinn reaches down, gathering her folder and her bag within her hand and she gestures for Rachel’s History book with a quaint smile and Rachel nods her head softly, placing it within her hands as the two slowly begin their journey to the classroom.
“So…”
“So.”
Never has a silence been so awkward! Rachel groans, diverting her attention away from the golden manned blond who walks beside of her. Finally deciding to bite the bullet, Rachel ducks her head with a heavy sigh and swallows the lump in the back of her throat.
“Why were you drinking last night? And why did you decide to call me?” The question is rather blunt and it catches the gorgeous teacher beside of her entirely off guard. The walking halts for a brief moment as Quinn looks at the brunette with shifting eyes as she sways her weight from one side to the other. There are all these truths that Rachel deserves to know and yet, all these truths that Quinn just is not quite ready to share wither. Blowing the question off with a sigh and a roll of her hazel eyes, the blonde once again continues her walk to History class.
“Why do you ask all this annoying questions about my life?” Quinn groans in annoyance and Rachel shrugs, dropping her left shoulder only slightly. She cannot manage to keep her eyes off the woman beside of her; she can’t stop staring at the eloquent beauty that makes her who she is. The beautiful frame of her body, the way her golden hair caresses her face in the softest wisps, her unusual and yet entirely perfect style, the way she walks. Everything about Quinn Fabray is beautiful and it is everything about her that leaves the brunette in awe-struck wonderment.
“My dads always told me that even the smartest people in the world ask questions; it is a form of learning. We are constantly learning our entire lives, even if it is small thing such as why one would become intoxicated the night before she knew she had classes. The second that we stop learning is the day that we die. You cannot sue one for simply being curious.” Rachel states in her infamous all-knowing tone and Quinn grumbles.
“You did hear what curiosity did to the cat, right?” Quinn shares a glance with Rachel who shrugs with a smirk.
“Good thing I’m not a cat,” retorts Rachel playfully and Quinn rolls her eyes with a hasty laugh. Instead of answering the previous question however, the blond just continues to walk, placing one foot in front of the other without so much as a second thought to the girl behind her. Because she knows that’s how things have to be now; no more treating Rachel like she is different than anyone else, no matter exactly how special she may be.
“Why were you drinking last night, Ms. Fabray?” Rachel asks again, pushing for the answer. Quinn groans, stopping at the history class with a huff, using her free hand to twist her fingers in her blond curls, tugging at them slightly. The fury and passion within her eyes collide hard with Rachel’s and for a moment, both of the girls forget how to breathe entirely.
“God damn it, Berry, when are you ever going to fucking learn to mind your own business, huh? If there is a reason someone did not answer the question the first time you asked it when it is very clear they heard you, don’t ask it again! I am not hearing impaired, I clearly heard you the first time that you asked the question; I just chose not to reply. For reasons that are my own. You are not my mother or my wife; I do not have to explain every fucking menial detail of my life to you. I am an adult; I don’t have to make excuses for myself anymore! I was drunk because I didn’t want to think about anything anymore, because for one second in my life I just wanted to forget. And maybe when you are a little older you will understand that concept! And when I’m drunk I do stupid things like call my students, but I insure you that phone call meant nothing . There, is that wanted, huh? An answer. Well now you have one,” Quinn blurts in a snapping, harsh tone that sounds like acid when it falls from her lips and her heart cracks inwardly in her chest. Instantly, Rachel recoils, her face attempting to crumble but she keeps the cry in with a hard lined jaw. Yet, the look of hurt on her face is enough to tell Quinn all the things that she needs to know, all the things that she has done to her.
“Maybe because I just care about you,” mumbles Rachel, careful to not allow her voice to crack. Quinn sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she clutches the books just below her chest. She wonders if Rachel can see it, just how she is falling apart on the inside, how this is literally killing her.
“Well don’t. Please just don’t. I am no good for you, don’t you see that, Berry? I am no good. And I am standing here right now, trying my damnedest to keep you from getting hurt because you don’t deserve to hurt. Not like this. And you’re making so fucking hard to do this. I am trying to protect you, can’t you see that? Don’t you get that? I am protecting you. So please just walk away and let me,” Quinn chokes back the cry, fighting the tears that are desperately trying to form within her orbs. Rachel shakes her head with a shaky breath, licking her dry lips as she grabs the books from Quinn’s arms in a hasty movement.
“Yeah and maybe if you would open your eyes, you would see that I am not a child. I don’t need protecting; I can take care of myself. I can judge for myself if you are good for me or if you are not. I’m not helpless,” Rachel huffs, clutching her books tight to her chest before her eyes meet Quinn’s once more, and both of the girls break more than they ever expected,
“And for the record? This…well this hurts me. A lot more than you probably ever could,” The brunette mumbles, her voice breaking before she pushes past her and into the classroom. Quinn watches her for a moment, a brief and quiet moment before she groans, slamming her fist into the wall as she forces to choke back the cry.
How is it possible that doing the right thing for someone could hurt so damn bad?
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