Fic: Remains (2/?), previously Are We There Yet
Title: Remains (2/?)
Author: cellochick92
Words: 2,038
Rating: R overall
Disclaimer: Not mine. Woe.
Warning: This fic deals with abuse of all kinds involving a minor. If this is triggering for you, please don't read. It's not especially graphic yet, but it may get there.
Summary: Done for an anon prompt over at the rq_meme: Rachel finds out Quinn was molested- by her mother (Quinn's, not Shelby!) Unbeta'd.
PLEASE NOTE: This story was previously called Are We There Yet- part one can be found at my journal here. So sorry for sort of abandoning this for a while, my muse has kicked in and hopefully I can get this one moving again! The song the new title is taken from can be found under the cut.
______________________
Quinn inhaled deeply, breathing in the soothing scent of citrus and vanilla. Burying her face a little more deeply in Rachel's hoodie, she exhaled and tried to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over for what felt like the millionth time. Curling up inside the tunnel of the jungle gym, Quinn squeezed her eyes shut tightly, determined not to cry any more.
She had just wanted to get away from her house and be able to get a safe night's rest without worrying about her door opening in the middle of the night and an intruder with alcohol on their breath. She had been trying to get down the stairs when her mom had caught her and grabbed her hard, pinning her against the wall and demanding to know why she was leaving. Quinn hadn't been able to get free, and she had winced as she felt her mother's fingers dig in further, knowing there would be bruises.
She hadn't been able to smell anything on her mom, and she prayed that reason would work as she quickly concocted a story about staying over at Santana's house because they had Cheerios practice earlier than normal and were going to carpool. There was a long, painful moment in which Quinn felt the beginnings of dread in her stomach and tried to mentally brace herself for what was likely about to happen. After another second, however, her mom had let her go with a grunt and a wave of her hand, and Quinn had bolted for the door.
The feeling of relief was overwhelming, and she hadn't stopped to grab a jacket in her haste to make it out the door before her mom could change her mind. The moment the freezing night air hit her she mentally kicked herself for making such a stupid mistake, knowing it meant she had a long, cold night ahead of her.
There was no way she was actually going to Santana's- the latina was her friend, but if Quinn showed up in the middle of the night with bruises the other girl wasn't going to let it drop. Quinn knew she wouldn't be able to withstand the constant questions and worried looks, and if Santana got fed up with waiting and started asking around, or told someone else...no. It was too risky to go to the brunette's house, even if it would mean a warm place to sleep. Instead, Quinn found herself walking in the direction of the park that was a few miles away, knowing she could stay the night there without interruption.
She had been sitting on the swings, wishing desperately for a jacket as the wind picked up, and she had nearly jumped out of her skin when who should come and sit down next to her but Rachel Berry. Quinn hadn't known what to do; she was tired and half-frozen, and there was enough hurt in the world without her adding to it right then with snark and snide comments. Rachel had been quiet, surprisingly so, but when she started talking, she had been so....nice. She was kind and sounded like she genuinely wanted to help, and-
Quinn felt her eyes prickle at the memory and forced herself to stop thinking. She tried to ground herself in the sweet scent of Rachel's hoodie and the way the material was soft against her skin. She tried to take deep, even breaths and focus on Rachel's hoodie- if she could distract herself with that, she was hopeful that the tears would stop.
When she finally felt she could open her eyes without crying, she blinked them open slowly and stared up at the ceiling of the tunnel, reaching up to trace the spray paint and sharpie emblazoned across the ceiling with a finger.
She had the swirling patterns and letters virtually memorized at this point- the park was her most common haunt when she couldn't be in the house any more, when she needed somewhere safe and quiet and calm to think and be by herself for a while. The tunnel shielded her from view and protected her from most weather, and while it wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, it was a good spot all around.
As her fingertip traced a star directly above her head, Quinn watched as her sleeve slid down her arm and the livid bruises became visible once more. She hadn't expected anyone to be out in the park this late at night, and when she had run out the door she hadn't thought to worry about the marks being seen. It had been stupid to assume that, and she knew she would have to be more careful in the future. Half grumbling under her breath that Rachel Berry, of all people, would be the one to decide a late night run was in order, Quinn let her arm drop and watched as the sleeve fell back into place.
Nobody would know that there was anything wrong, or that she was anything less than perfect, as long as the sleeve stayed where it was supposed to. It was miserable, not having anyone to turn to, but she knew it was better that way. If nobody knew, then she could go on pretending that she was just Quinn Fabray, cheerleader and head bitch at McKinley, the blonde with the perfect life.
She could pretend for those few precious hours during the school day that she actually had that life, that she was honestly the bitch who didn't care what anyone thought because she already had it all. For those hours, she could almost make herself believe the lies she fed to everyone around her.
It was like when she was little.
She had loved to pretend that she was a princess, locked away in a tower, just waiting for her true love to come rescue her. She had played for hours, and by about the second hour in, she nearly had herself convinced that magic was real and she was wearing beautiful dresses instead of her jumper. If she tried hard enough, she could hear the sound of hooves as her true love came to rescue her and take her far, far away. She had always hoped that if she believed, then she could make everyone else believe too, and then it might not be pretend anymore.
Now that she was older, she had given up on anyone ever rescuing her, and she knew that she most definitely was not a princess. During the school day, however, the game was the same: make herself believe that she was normal and happy, because then hopefully she could convince everyone else too.
She had changed, growing older and more jaded, but the game had stayed the same.
She felt loneliness threatening to bubble up from deep in her chest at the thought that nobody actually knew her, but she quashed it quickly. She had made it this far without anyone being the wiser for it, and she would much prefer to keep it that way.
Thinking back on her interaction with Rachel earlier that night, Quinn sighed. She was just lucky that the diva hadn't pushed for more information, and had accepted Quinn's obviously fake explanation relatively easily. Quinn let loose a frustrated sigh as she remembered how easily Rachel had offered to let the blonde go home with her. After years of being mean to the petite brunette, the girl was still selfless enough to offer her home to her tormentor because she thought she might be in trouble.
Letting her head thunk back against the side of the tunnel, Quinn closed her eyes briefly. It wasn't that she didn't like Rachel. It was just....people expected her to pick on the brunette since she was a social pariah, and Quinn couldn't do anything that might arouse suspicion. She needed to play by the rules and get by with as little scrutiny as possible, and if that meant that she had to pretend to hate Rachel? Then she would do it.
She felt guilty every time she saw the poor girl, with her hopeful eyes and bright smile, because she knew that her hope would be doused quickly by the sting of ice-cold slushy. She wished there was another way, because really- Rachel was so nice, and she didn't deserve the torment that Quinn put her through.
Quinn fingered the hoodie she was still holding and debated whether or not to actually put it on. It felt awful to accept kindness from someone she was so routinely cruel to, but...it was freezing, and as a violent shiver shook her body she gave in and decided she would just find a way to pay Rachel back.
Slipping it on, she breathed in deeply as she was enveloped in that wonderful smell. She didn't know how she hadn't noticed it before now, because it smelled like heaven and warmth and safety all rolled in to one. Flipping on to her side and curling up into a ball, Quinn pillowed her head on one arm and closed her eyes.
As she waited to fall asleep, her thoughts swung back to Rachel. The brunette might be curious, and curiosity might be bad, but Quinn wouldn't be the one to call for extra slushies to try to dissuade the girl from asking more questions. After how kind Rachel had been, it seemed unnecessarily cruel to thank her for her trouble by having her slushied.
Groaning, she turned over, wincing as her back ached where a picture frame had dug into it earlier. If she had just been more careful in the first place, this whole situation could have been avoided. If she had just made sure to wear sleeves that didn't ride up, if she had been wearing a jacket, if she had been able to control her stupid flinching reflexes...but no.
She hadn't been able to do any of those things, and now she was stuck with Rachel Berry, but more than that, she was stuck with one Rachel Berry who was suspicious about her home life. All of her careful planning about how to make it through high school and then as far away as possible most certainly did not involve anything about Rachel Berry stumbling across her at one in the morning in a public park.
The poor girl had no idea what was going on, and Quinn knew there was no way that the little brunette would ever understand. Rachel had made a simple comment in passing about how she wouldn't be Quinn's mother, completely oblivious to what that might mean to the blonde, and Quinn didn't know if that obliviousness would ever change, or if it even could.
She supposed that she shouldn't be surprised that Rachel assumed her mother was nurturing and loving, if a bit over-protective. After all, that was the perfect family portrait she painted at school.
Still, though, there were so many societal stigmas and stereotypes about how the father was the abusive one and the mother a passive bystander that Quinn didn't know how to even begin to deconstruct them. She knew that Rachel would most likely be far less judgmental and open-minded due to her own experience with stigmas and stereotypes around having two gay fathers, but that would only go so far.
Having an absentee father who whored around on business trips because his wife was crazy wasn't ideal, but when you added in the fact that her mother was....no. There was no way that simply being open-minded would be enough to let Rachel understand.
The diva was so far removed from Quinn's life and what went on behind closed doors that the blonde wasn't sure it was possible for her to comprehend the reality of it. Hell, it was her life, and she still sometimes couldn't believe it was real, that it was happening to her.
Exhaling deeply and deciding that she would cross the bridge of what to do about Rachel when she came to it, Quinn let her muscles slowly relax. She resolved to be more careful around the brunette, and to put extra energy into school in the coming days. She had been pretending for so long that she didn't know how to do anything else anymore.
As she drifted off, Quinn had very nearly convinced herself that she would be fine on her own, but for the rest of the night her dreams were filled with hopeful brown eyes and the scent of citrus and vanilla.
Part Three
Author: cellochick92
Words: 2,038
Rating: R overall
Disclaimer: Not mine. Woe.
Warning: This fic deals with abuse of all kinds involving a minor. If this is triggering for you, please don't read. It's not especially graphic yet, but it may get there.
Summary: Done for an anon prompt over at the rq_meme: Rachel finds out Quinn was molested- by her mother (Quinn's, not Shelby!) Unbeta'd.
PLEASE NOTE: This story was previously called Are We There Yet- part one can be found at my journal here. So sorry for sort of abandoning this for a while, my muse has kicked in and hopefully I can get this one moving again! The song the new title is taken from can be found under the cut.
______________________
Click to viewQuinn inhaled deeply, breathing in the soothing scent of citrus and vanilla. Burying her face a little more deeply in Rachel's hoodie, she exhaled and tried to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over for what felt like the millionth time. Curling up inside the tunnel of the jungle gym, Quinn squeezed her eyes shut tightly, determined not to cry any more.
She had just wanted to get away from her house and be able to get a safe night's rest without worrying about her door opening in the middle of the night and an intruder with alcohol on their breath. She had been trying to get down the stairs when her mom had caught her and grabbed her hard, pinning her against the wall and demanding to know why she was leaving. Quinn hadn't been able to get free, and she had winced as she felt her mother's fingers dig in further, knowing there would be bruises.
She hadn't been able to smell anything on her mom, and she prayed that reason would work as she quickly concocted a story about staying over at Santana's house because they had Cheerios practice earlier than normal and were going to carpool. There was a long, painful moment in which Quinn felt the beginnings of dread in her stomach and tried to mentally brace herself for what was likely about to happen. After another second, however, her mom had let her go with a grunt and a wave of her hand, and Quinn had bolted for the door.
The feeling of relief was overwhelming, and she hadn't stopped to grab a jacket in her haste to make it out the door before her mom could change her mind. The moment the freezing night air hit her she mentally kicked herself for making such a stupid mistake, knowing it meant she had a long, cold night ahead of her.
There was no way she was actually going to Santana's- the latina was her friend, but if Quinn showed up in the middle of the night with bruises the other girl wasn't going to let it drop. Quinn knew she wouldn't be able to withstand the constant questions and worried looks, and if Santana got fed up with waiting and started asking around, or told someone else...no. It was too risky to go to the brunette's house, even if it would mean a warm place to sleep. Instead, Quinn found herself walking in the direction of the park that was a few miles away, knowing she could stay the night there without interruption.
She had been sitting on the swings, wishing desperately for a jacket as the wind picked up, and she had nearly jumped out of her skin when who should come and sit down next to her but Rachel Berry. Quinn hadn't known what to do; she was tired and half-frozen, and there was enough hurt in the world without her adding to it right then with snark and snide comments. Rachel had been quiet, surprisingly so, but when she started talking, she had been so....nice. She was kind and sounded like she genuinely wanted to help, and-
Quinn felt her eyes prickle at the memory and forced herself to stop thinking. She tried to ground herself in the sweet scent of Rachel's hoodie and the way the material was soft against her skin. She tried to take deep, even breaths and focus on Rachel's hoodie- if she could distract herself with that, she was hopeful that the tears would stop.
When she finally felt she could open her eyes without crying, she blinked them open slowly and stared up at the ceiling of the tunnel, reaching up to trace the spray paint and sharpie emblazoned across the ceiling with a finger.
She had the swirling patterns and letters virtually memorized at this point- the park was her most common haunt when she couldn't be in the house any more, when she needed somewhere safe and quiet and calm to think and be by herself for a while. The tunnel shielded her from view and protected her from most weather, and while it wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, it was a good spot all around.
As her fingertip traced a star directly above her head, Quinn watched as her sleeve slid down her arm and the livid bruises became visible once more. She hadn't expected anyone to be out in the park this late at night, and when she had run out the door she hadn't thought to worry about the marks being seen. It had been stupid to assume that, and she knew she would have to be more careful in the future. Half grumbling under her breath that Rachel Berry, of all people, would be the one to decide a late night run was in order, Quinn let her arm drop and watched as the sleeve fell back into place.
Nobody would know that there was anything wrong, or that she was anything less than perfect, as long as the sleeve stayed where it was supposed to. It was miserable, not having anyone to turn to, but she knew it was better that way. If nobody knew, then she could go on pretending that she was just Quinn Fabray, cheerleader and head bitch at McKinley, the blonde with the perfect life.
She could pretend for those few precious hours during the school day that she actually had that life, that she was honestly the bitch who didn't care what anyone thought because she already had it all. For those hours, she could almost make herself believe the lies she fed to everyone around her.
It was like when she was little.
She had loved to pretend that she was a princess, locked away in a tower, just waiting for her true love to come rescue her. She had played for hours, and by about the second hour in, she nearly had herself convinced that magic was real and she was wearing beautiful dresses instead of her jumper. If she tried hard enough, she could hear the sound of hooves as her true love came to rescue her and take her far, far away. She had always hoped that if she believed, then she could make everyone else believe too, and then it might not be pretend anymore.
Now that she was older, she had given up on anyone ever rescuing her, and she knew that she most definitely was not a princess. During the school day, however, the game was the same: make herself believe that she was normal and happy, because then hopefully she could convince everyone else too.
She had changed, growing older and more jaded, but the game had stayed the same.
She felt loneliness threatening to bubble up from deep in her chest at the thought that nobody actually knew her, but she quashed it quickly. She had made it this far without anyone being the wiser for it, and she would much prefer to keep it that way.
Thinking back on her interaction with Rachel earlier that night, Quinn sighed. She was just lucky that the diva hadn't pushed for more information, and had accepted Quinn's obviously fake explanation relatively easily. Quinn let loose a frustrated sigh as she remembered how easily Rachel had offered to let the blonde go home with her. After years of being mean to the petite brunette, the girl was still selfless enough to offer her home to her tormentor because she thought she might be in trouble.
Letting her head thunk back against the side of the tunnel, Quinn closed her eyes briefly. It wasn't that she didn't like Rachel. It was just....people expected her to pick on the brunette since she was a social pariah, and Quinn couldn't do anything that might arouse suspicion. She needed to play by the rules and get by with as little scrutiny as possible, and if that meant that she had to pretend to hate Rachel? Then she would do it.
She felt guilty every time she saw the poor girl, with her hopeful eyes and bright smile, because she knew that her hope would be doused quickly by the sting of ice-cold slushy. She wished there was another way, because really- Rachel was so nice, and she didn't deserve the torment that Quinn put her through.
Quinn fingered the hoodie she was still holding and debated whether or not to actually put it on. It felt awful to accept kindness from someone she was so routinely cruel to, but...it was freezing, and as a violent shiver shook her body she gave in and decided she would just find a way to pay Rachel back.
Slipping it on, she breathed in deeply as she was enveloped in that wonderful smell. She didn't know how she hadn't noticed it before now, because it smelled like heaven and warmth and safety all rolled in to one. Flipping on to her side and curling up into a ball, Quinn pillowed her head on one arm and closed her eyes.
As she waited to fall asleep, her thoughts swung back to Rachel. The brunette might be curious, and curiosity might be bad, but Quinn wouldn't be the one to call for extra slushies to try to dissuade the girl from asking more questions. After how kind Rachel had been, it seemed unnecessarily cruel to thank her for her trouble by having her slushied.
Groaning, she turned over, wincing as her back ached where a picture frame had dug into it earlier. If she had just been more careful in the first place, this whole situation could have been avoided. If she had just made sure to wear sleeves that didn't ride up, if she had been wearing a jacket, if she had been able to control her stupid flinching reflexes...but no.
She hadn't been able to do any of those things, and now she was stuck with Rachel Berry, but more than that, she was stuck with one Rachel Berry who was suspicious about her home life. All of her careful planning about how to make it through high school and then as far away as possible most certainly did not involve anything about Rachel Berry stumbling across her at one in the morning in a public park.
The poor girl had no idea what was going on, and Quinn knew there was no way that the little brunette would ever understand. Rachel had made a simple comment in passing about how she wouldn't be Quinn's mother, completely oblivious to what that might mean to the blonde, and Quinn didn't know if that obliviousness would ever change, or if it even could.
She supposed that she shouldn't be surprised that Rachel assumed her mother was nurturing and loving, if a bit over-protective. After all, that was the perfect family portrait she painted at school.
Still, though, there were so many societal stigmas and stereotypes about how the father was the abusive one and the mother a passive bystander that Quinn didn't know how to even begin to deconstruct them. She knew that Rachel would most likely be far less judgmental and open-minded due to her own experience with stigmas and stereotypes around having two gay fathers, but that would only go so far.
Having an absentee father who whored around on business trips because his wife was crazy wasn't ideal, but when you added in the fact that her mother was....no. There was no way that simply being open-minded would be enough to let Rachel understand.
The diva was so far removed from Quinn's life and what went on behind closed doors that the blonde wasn't sure it was possible for her to comprehend the reality of it. Hell, it was her life, and she still sometimes couldn't believe it was real, that it was happening to her.
Exhaling deeply and deciding that she would cross the bridge of what to do about Rachel when she came to it, Quinn let her muscles slowly relax. She resolved to be more careful around the brunette, and to put extra energy into school in the coming days. She had been pretending for so long that she didn't know how to do anything else anymore.
As she drifted off, Quinn had very nearly convinced herself that she would be fine on her own, but for the rest of the night her dreams were filled with hopeful brown eyes and the scent of citrus and vanilla.
Part Three