FIC: Broken Roads and Bottled Dreams (1/ 10 tenatively)
Title: Broken Roads and Bottled Dreams (1/10 tenatively)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Prompt(s): Rachel is missing something in her life and goes home again. (Thanks metalphoenix)
Summary: Can Rachel really go home again?
Disclaimer: haha...please. If I owned them, they'd so do it every chance they got.
A/N: I'm not sure if I'm finishing this. The plot bunny just wouldn't leave me alone for the past two days. So, I thought I'd write the first chapter and post it and see what you all thought. Let me know. Should I finish it or shouldn't I? I am still planning on doing a sequel for Textually Stimulating, but I'll do that during the porn battle which I hope you all will participate in. This is unbeta'd. I've been bad about that lately, but I just wanted to know what you all thought about this. Comments are love.
Rachel took a deep breath and looked around her room. She knew being there wasn’t the answer to the questions that had been plaguing her for the last five years, but it was definitely a step in the right direction. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed invisible lint off of the new cardigan her fathers had given her the previous evening. She ran fingers through her newly sheared locks. She looked good. The perfect blend of old and new Rachel.
The ride to school was familiar and as she walked down the freshly waxed floors of William McKinley High she sighed nostalgically. That was until she rounded the corner and had to jump back to avoid the all-too-familiar cool splash of slushee. There was a cruel laugh and then someone yelled “loser” and she watched as some poor girl tried in vain to keep the sticky liquid from dripping into her eyes.
Rachel pulled napkins from her bag and offered them to the girl. “Here.”
After wiping away the purple slop, green eyes met hers and the girl muttered, “thanks,” before stalking off to the girls’ room.
Maybe coming back here had been a mistake. Why had she thought things had changed? Perhaps the last two years of high had just been a fever dream which she had suffered from constant external brain freeze. She almost turned around and walked back out of the door. But then she remembered why she was doing this. Mr. Schuester needed her. He’d entrusted her to take Glee and make it even better. And that’s what she was going to do. New Directions would be the best.
“Rachel Berry, as I live and breathe. I can’t say I’m not surprised to see you here. I would have thought that Lady Liberty herself would have eaten you whole, bones and all. I can’t say that I hadn’t thought about it myself a time or two.”
Steeling her nerves, Rachel turned around. “Coach Sylvester…”
“Oh come on, Berry. We’re old pals now. You can call me Sue.” The blonde hadn’t aged in the last thirteen years much to Rachel’s fascination. Then the older woman leaned in. “Hell, if you play your cards right, I’ll tell a few other names you can call me.”
Rachel stepped back, trying to contain her shiver of disgust. “I…uh…I have to go.” She hurried off in the other direction before Sue could stop her. What the hell had just happened? She really hoped that the day didn’t continue on like this. If it did, she didn’t know how she’d survive it.
The rest of the day passed by without incident, much to Rachel’s relief. She really enjoyed her new job as a guidance counselor, though she hadn’t actually had any students to guide that day.
*****
Rachel found herself taking another deep breath as she prepared to enter the music room. For just a moment she was back in the tenth grade and she half expected to be greeted by Mercedes, Tina, Artie and Kurt while Brittany, Santana and Matt sat chatting. Mike and Finn would be goofing off by the drums. While Puck strummed his guitar and Quinn-
“Excuse me,” a girl with a dark ponytail, wearing a Cheerios uniform scooted past her, breaking into her thoughts. She followed the girl into the room and was met by thirteen curious gazes. The ghosts of her and her friends laughing as they waited for Mr. Schue faded and Rachel squared her shoulders.
“Hi, I’m Ms. Berry and welcome to New Directions!” She said brightly and none of them looked terribly impressed, except one girl that she couldn’t quite make out because she was sitting back behind the five Cheerios that were huddled together. Okay so she’d only made it on Broadway twice, but she’d hoped her name would garner some sort of recognition.
“What happened to Mr. Schue?” A tall, dark-skinned boy sporting a letterman jacket called out.
“Mr. Schuester was offered a position at to coach collegiate level a cappella and has left you in my very capable hands.”
There was a moment of silence before the whole room erupted in chaos.
“I only signed up to work with Mr. Schue!” Someone shouted.
“There go sectionals.”
“How could he do this to us?”
“I’m leaving…”
“Hey!” Rachel tried to call above the ruckus, but it was no use, so she placed her two fingers against her lips and whistled loudly. All of the kids flinched, falling quiet immediately.
“Now, if we’re all quite done, I’d like to state that mine was the first year of glee students that ever placed in the top three at regionals since Mr. Schuester himself had been a student here. That says a lot because we happened to be the first class he ever taught. And we consistently placed for the remainder of my high school career. If that’s not enough for you, I graduated from Julliard in the top ten percent of my graduating class and I have had a successful career both on and off Broadway. Now if we could get on with it, I’d like to call roll. When I say your name please stand and move into a single file line facing me. I like to put faces to names. I find it’s easier to remember them that way.” Rachel smiled brightly at them before looking down at the paper Mr. Figgins had given her.
She called the names and watched as some of the kids eyed her in disdain, while the others gazed on with begrudging respect. This was going to be a challenge, but Rachel had always thrived in all or nothing situations. As the students stood and made their way over to the line, she was impressed to see a good mixture of jocks and the standard “gleeks.” She felt a burst of pride knowing that it was her class that had set the precedent and for the first time felt some of what she’d been missing in New York.
Her eyes scanned the names quickly, but her words stumbled half the way through the next name on her list. “Kaitlin Fa-bray?” Suddenly images of blonde hair and Cheerios uniforms and sad pregnant girls rushed through her thoughts and the image of Quinn on the last day she’d seen her thirteen years ago, beautiful smile firmly in place appeared before evaporating into thin air.
A short, slightly awkward girl with mousy brown hair and faded jeans and a worn pink sweater stood and walked to stand beside one of the football players. Two thoughts hit Rachel simultaneously as she studied the now fidgeting girl. The first was that the rumors had been true. The girl looked like an odd mixture of Puck and Quinn, but Rachel couldn’t figure out whom she resembled the most. The second came as she took in the now permanent purple stain on the front of her sweater. This was that this was the poor girl that had been slushee’d earlier that morning.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Prompt(s): Rachel is missing something in her life and goes home again. (Thanks metalphoenix)
Summary: Can Rachel really go home again?
Disclaimer: haha...please. If I owned them, they'd so do it every chance they got.
A/N: I'm not sure if I'm finishing this. The plot bunny just wouldn't leave me alone for the past two days. So, I thought I'd write the first chapter and post it and see what you all thought. Let me know. Should I finish it or shouldn't I? I am still planning on doing a sequel for Textually Stimulating, but I'll do that during the porn battle which I hope you all will participate in. This is unbeta'd. I've been bad about that lately, but I just wanted to know what you all thought about this. Comments are love.
Rachel took a deep breath and looked around her room. She knew being there wasn’t the answer to the questions that had been plaguing her for the last five years, but it was definitely a step in the right direction. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed invisible lint off of the new cardigan her fathers had given her the previous evening. She ran fingers through her newly sheared locks. She looked good. The perfect blend of old and new Rachel.
The ride to school was familiar and as she walked down the freshly waxed floors of William McKinley High she sighed nostalgically. That was until she rounded the corner and had to jump back to avoid the all-too-familiar cool splash of slushee. There was a cruel laugh and then someone yelled “loser” and she watched as some poor girl tried in vain to keep the sticky liquid from dripping into her eyes.
Rachel pulled napkins from her bag and offered them to the girl. “Here.”
After wiping away the purple slop, green eyes met hers and the girl muttered, “thanks,” before stalking off to the girls’ room.
Maybe coming back here had been a mistake. Why had she thought things had changed? Perhaps the last two years of high had just been a fever dream which she had suffered from constant external brain freeze. She almost turned around and walked back out of the door. But then she remembered why she was doing this. Mr. Schuester needed her. He’d entrusted her to take Glee and make it even better. And that’s what she was going to do. New Directions would be the best.
“Rachel Berry, as I live and breathe. I can’t say I’m not surprised to see you here. I would have thought that Lady Liberty herself would have eaten you whole, bones and all. I can’t say that I hadn’t thought about it myself a time or two.”
Steeling her nerves, Rachel turned around. “Coach Sylvester…”
“Oh come on, Berry. We’re old pals now. You can call me Sue.” The blonde hadn’t aged in the last thirteen years much to Rachel’s fascination. Then the older woman leaned in. “Hell, if you play your cards right, I’ll tell a few other names you can call me.”
Rachel stepped back, trying to contain her shiver of disgust. “I…uh…I have to go.” She hurried off in the other direction before Sue could stop her. What the hell had just happened? She really hoped that the day didn’t continue on like this. If it did, she didn’t know how she’d survive it.
The rest of the day passed by without incident, much to Rachel’s relief. She really enjoyed her new job as a guidance counselor, though she hadn’t actually had any students to guide that day.
*****
Rachel found herself taking another deep breath as she prepared to enter the music room. For just a moment she was back in the tenth grade and she half expected to be greeted by Mercedes, Tina, Artie and Kurt while Brittany, Santana and Matt sat chatting. Mike and Finn would be goofing off by the drums. While Puck strummed his guitar and Quinn-
“Excuse me,” a girl with a dark ponytail, wearing a Cheerios uniform scooted past her, breaking into her thoughts. She followed the girl into the room and was met by thirteen curious gazes. The ghosts of her and her friends laughing as they waited for Mr. Schue faded and Rachel squared her shoulders.
“Hi, I’m Ms. Berry and welcome to New Directions!” She said brightly and none of them looked terribly impressed, except one girl that she couldn’t quite make out because she was sitting back behind the five Cheerios that were huddled together. Okay so she’d only made it on Broadway twice, but she’d hoped her name would garner some sort of recognition.
“What happened to Mr. Schue?” A tall, dark-skinned boy sporting a letterman jacket called out.
“Mr. Schuester was offered a position at to coach collegiate level a cappella and has left you in my very capable hands.”
There was a moment of silence before the whole room erupted in chaos.
“I only signed up to work with Mr. Schue!” Someone shouted.
“There go sectionals.”
“How could he do this to us?”
“I’m leaving…”
“Hey!” Rachel tried to call above the ruckus, but it was no use, so she placed her two fingers against her lips and whistled loudly. All of the kids flinched, falling quiet immediately.
“Now, if we’re all quite done, I’d like to state that mine was the first year of glee students that ever placed in the top three at regionals since Mr. Schuester himself had been a student here. That says a lot because we happened to be the first class he ever taught. And we consistently placed for the remainder of my high school career. If that’s not enough for you, I graduated from Julliard in the top ten percent of my graduating class and I have had a successful career both on and off Broadway. Now if we could get on with it, I’d like to call roll. When I say your name please stand and move into a single file line facing me. I like to put faces to names. I find it’s easier to remember them that way.” Rachel smiled brightly at them before looking down at the paper Mr. Figgins had given her.
She called the names and watched as some of the kids eyed her in disdain, while the others gazed on with begrudging respect. This was going to be a challenge, but Rachel had always thrived in all or nothing situations. As the students stood and made their way over to the line, she was impressed to see a good mixture of jocks and the standard “gleeks.” She felt a burst of pride knowing that it was her class that had set the precedent and for the first time felt some of what she’d been missing in New York.
Her eyes scanned the names quickly, but her words stumbled half the way through the next name on her list. “Kaitlin Fa-bray?” Suddenly images of blonde hair and Cheerios uniforms and sad pregnant girls rushed through her thoughts and the image of Quinn on the last day she’d seen her thirteen years ago, beautiful smile firmly in place appeared before evaporating into thin air.
A short, slightly awkward girl with mousy brown hair and faded jeans and a worn pink sweater stood and walked to stand beside one of the football players. Two thoughts hit Rachel simultaneously as she studied the now fidgeting girl. The first was that the rumors had been true. The girl looked like an odd mixture of Puck and Quinn, but Rachel couldn’t figure out whom she resembled the most. The second came as she took in the now permanent purple stain on the front of her sweater. This was that this was the poor girl that had been slushee’d earlier that morning.