Pieces of Her, 15/?
Title: Pieces of Her, 15/?
Author: Kagekamay
Rating: R
Length: 2,084
Spoilers: AU after Special Education
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Rachel Berry wasn't unbreakable. Now she's broken and the only person who can put her back together is Quinn Fabray. WARNING deals with self harm
AN: The next two chapters were originally one large chapter, but I had to make some adjustments because it was too long, so if it seems like it ends on a cliffhanger that's why.
" - And they're still adding more words to the language, so I usually go on the website so I can learn more words. I'm practically fluent now."
Quinn tried to look intrigued, and even let out a halfhearted 'wow' that wouldn't have fooled anyone. Well except Sam, who looked rather pleased with himself and smiled, taking it as a sign that he should keep explaining. Yeah, this date was a stupid idea. So far, Quinn had been graced to the tale of "How Sam Evans learned to speak Na'vi in a week," for the past hour, with occasional pauses so Sam could shovel down large mouthfuls of his spaghetti.
It had been cute for the first few weeks of their relationship, but after a while, Sam's closeted dorky side had grown tiresome. Secretly, Quinn figured she wouldn't have minded as much if she genuinely liked him, but since she didn't...well she would rather be back at the bottom of the pyramid than hear one more thing about blue people. Tuning Sam out, she picked halfheartedly at her untouched salad, her mind drifting to Rachel for the hundredth time that night. She could have skipped out on the date and spent the evening at Rachel's, but ultimately that would have led to Sam complaining yet again about how much she neglected him.
"Quinn?"
The sound of her name jolted her from her thoughts, and she glanced up at Sam, who was waving a hand in her face.
"Are you okay? You zoned out for a bit," he said concernedly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Quinn lied, sounding peppier than she felt, "just tired from Cheerios practice I guess."
"Oh. Well anyway, I was asking if you wanted to go see a movie or something. It's only 6:30, and I don't have anything else to do."
"No," Quinn said hurriedly, anxious to get away from Sam as soon as possible, "I have some things I have to do tonight."
Sam's shrugged off her flimsy excuse, placing the money on top of the check and sliding out of the booth, "It's cool. Maybe some other time."
The two of them walked to Quinn's car, where Sam kissed her gently before waving goodbye and leaving in his car. Quinn made sure he was out of sight before wiping away the traces of him that she still felt on her lips, trying to push away how wrong it had felt. Pulling out her phone, she rapidly sent a text to Rachel, telling her she would be at her house in ten minutes. At least her evening wouldn't be a total disappointment.
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
"Shit."
That pretty much summed it up, Rachel thought bitterly, as she stared at the gashes on her legs. They were an angry red and had swollen considerably since she had cut herself. She was sitting on the floor with her back resting against the side of her bed, trying to somehow tend to her cuts. The diva swore again as she dabbed more ointment on them, gritting her teeth at the pain.
She had barely even touched her leg for crying out loud! Rachel was stopped in the middle of her ministrations by the sound of the doorbell, signaling Quinn had arrived. Groaning, she hoisted herself up from the floor, and gingerly climbed down the stairs. The moment she opened the door, she was welcomed by the sight of a scowling Quinn, who stomped past Rachel and made a beeline for the living room. Rachel followed after her, just in time to see Quinn flop on top of the couch.
"I'm assuming your date didn't go well?" Rachel asked, taking her place at the end of the couch closest to Quinn's head.
Quinn made an unintelligible noise and lifted her head up, no doubt to start telling Rachel exactly how much of a disaster it had been, when her eyes fell on the tube of ointment still clutched in her hand. It didn't take long for her to find the angry red cuts on Rachel's thigh, that were still visible since Rachel had rolled up her sweatpants leg so she could put the ointment on them.
"When did you do that?" Quinn asked, sitting up and swinging Rachel's leg so it was resting over her lap to get a better look.
Rachel winced as the blonde's fingers ghosted over the area around the cuts, "Earlier this week. For some reason it hasn't healed properly."
"It looks infected," Quinn observed, frowning as she saw how swollen Rachel's thigh was, "Can I see that ointment?"
Rachel wordlessly handed it to her, and her frown deepened when she read the label, "That's not going to help."
Gently, Quinn moved Rachel's leg off of her lap and stood up, making her way to the nearest bathroom.
Rachel heard her rummaging through the cabinets, and was about to ask what the blonde was looking for when she came back to sit on the couch with a brown bottle, a couple of q-tips, and band aids in her hand.
"Give me your leg," Quinn commanded, and when Rachel looked ready to protest, she gave her a look.
Recognizing when to shut up, Rachel complied, and stretched her leg over Quinn's lap. Quinn unscrewed the lid to the bottle and dipped a q-tip inside. She screwed the lid back on and put the bottle next to her, grasping Rachel's leg so she wouldn't squirm.
"This is going to sting," she warned, waiting for Rachel to nod before, swabbing over the cuts.
Rachel hissed in pain and tried to move her leg away, but Quinn kept it in a viselike grip. The cheerio grabbed another q-tip and dipped it in the bottle again, rubbing it over the cuts. This time, Rachel managed to stifle her cry and kept her mouth clamped shut until Quinn was satisfied that the cuts were thoroughly disinfected. Quinn's face was an unreadable mask as she put fresh band-aids on top of the cuts.
The diva felt her stomach twist, a mixture of fear and guilt making her feel worse. She knew watching her hurt herself was tearing Quinn apart, but she kept doing it anyway. What made it worse was that Quinn accepted it, helping Rachel when she needed it, but never demanding an explanation.
"Here," Quinn said tiredly, handing the brown bottle to Rachel. When the brunette looked at her questioningly, she sighed.
"If you get another infection, just put the hydrogen peroxide on it to disinfect it."
"Oh," Rachel mumbled meekly, carefully lifting her legs off of Quinn's lap and taking the bottle, "Thank you."
She got up to put the bottle back in the bathroom and returned to find Quinn slumped against the couch, all thoughts of her date with Sam forgotten. The tension in the room increased as Rachel unrolled her sweatpants to hide the cuts and sat back down on the couch, making a mental note to avoid using her compass to cut again. She wasn't going anywhere near the hydrogen peroxide if she could help it.
It scares me, you know," Quinn said, her voice deceivingly calm.
Rachel tensed as she watched the cheerleader, who turned her gaze towards her. The hazel eyes seemed to stare right through her, seeing straight through the wall that she kept up around everyone else. Quinn took a deep breath and closed her eyes, looking like she was steeling herself to continue.
"Quinn," Rachel started to say, but the girl shook her head violently.
"I have to say this, even if it doesn't make a difference, you need to know."
Rachel nodded, taking the blonde's hand in her own to offer her some form of comfort. Quinn looked at their joined hands blinking back tears at Rachel's display of kindness, "I just feel so helpless all the time. I know I can't force you to stop cutting, and it helps you cope, but I'm afraid one day - " her voice broke and she squeezed Rachel's hand tighter.
Rachel brushed away the few tears that were falling from Quinn's eyes, simultaneously scooting closer to the girl so she could curl into her side. Quinn separated their hands so she could put an arm around Rachel, pulling her closer to her.
"I'm afraid one day I'm going to get there too late," she whispered, taking comfort in the rise and fall of Rachel's chest against her side, "What if I hadn't found you in the bathroom last week? What if you just lay there, b-bleeding until you passed out or worse?" Her voice had grown thick with emotion, and she found she couldn't continue.
"But you did find me," Rachel argued softly, meeting Quinn's tortured eyes with her own.
"Yeah, this time," Quinn choked out, "but what if next time I don't?"
"You can't think like that," Rachel protested, pulling slightly away from Quinn, "it's never going to come to that."
"How do you know?" Quinn asked, her voice trembling slightly. Rachel's heart throbbed painfully as she realized how truly worried the girl was about her. It scared her, and made her want to assure Quinn not to worry so much, that she was going to be okay; but the words wouldn't come.
Instead, she simply rested her head on Quinn's shoulder, feeling the cheerio's arms automatically wrap around her, as if she were afraid she could lose the singer at any moment.
"It won't," Rachel whispered, just loud enough for Quinn to hear. She was relieved when Quinn didn't question her, the slight tightening of her grip around her the only indication that she had heard Rachel at all.
The brunette would have been content to lie there in Quinn's arms for as long as she needed her to, but the sound of Quinn's stomach growling prevented any hope of that.
"Did you eat at all on your date?" Rachel asked aloud, diffusing the tension in the room.
Quinn let out a watery chuckle and managed to wipe the few tears that were still on her face, "Not exactly."
Disentangling herself from the blonde, Rachel stood up and headed to the kitchen, fully intent on finding something for her to eat. Within a few minutes, she had warmed up a slice of leftover pizza, and deposited it in front of Quinn, who attacked it hungrily. While Quinn ate, Rachel turned on the television, mindlessly channel surfing until she had finished.
"So what would you like to do?" Rachel asked, relieved when she saw that Quinn seemed to have partially recovered from her earlier outburst.
Quinn shifted uncomfortably, "Well I was wondering if - "
The sound of keys jingling in the lock made the pair of them freeze, simultaneously turning toward the front door. Seconds later, the door opened.
"Hey, Rachel, is Finn over? Because there's a car in the driveway but it doesn't look like - " Hiram Berry stopped in his tracks, eying the strange blonde girl who was sitting on the couch with a mixture of surprise and suspicion.
"Who are you?"
Author: Kagekamay
Rating: R
Length: 2,084
Spoilers: AU after Special Education
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Rachel Berry wasn't unbreakable. Now she's broken and the only person who can put her back together is Quinn Fabray. WARNING deals with self harm
AN: The next two chapters were originally one large chapter, but I had to make some adjustments because it was too long, so if it seems like it ends on a cliffhanger that's why.
" - And they're still adding more words to the language, so I usually go on the website so I can learn more words. I'm practically fluent now."
Quinn tried to look intrigued, and even let out a halfhearted 'wow' that wouldn't have fooled anyone. Well except Sam, who looked rather pleased with himself and smiled, taking it as a sign that he should keep explaining. Yeah, this date was a stupid idea. So far, Quinn had been graced to the tale of "How Sam Evans learned to speak Na'vi in a week," for the past hour, with occasional pauses so Sam could shovel down large mouthfuls of his spaghetti.
It had been cute for the first few weeks of their relationship, but after a while, Sam's closeted dorky side had grown tiresome. Secretly, Quinn figured she wouldn't have minded as much if she genuinely liked him, but since she didn't...well she would rather be back at the bottom of the pyramid than hear one more thing about blue people. Tuning Sam out, she picked halfheartedly at her untouched salad, her mind drifting to Rachel for the hundredth time that night. She could have skipped out on the date and spent the evening at Rachel's, but ultimately that would have led to Sam complaining yet again about how much she neglected him.
"Quinn?"
The sound of her name jolted her from her thoughts, and she glanced up at Sam, who was waving a hand in her face.
"Are you okay? You zoned out for a bit," he said concernedly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Quinn lied, sounding peppier than she felt, "just tired from Cheerios practice I guess."
"Oh. Well anyway, I was asking if you wanted to go see a movie or something. It's only 6:30, and I don't have anything else to do."
"No," Quinn said hurriedly, anxious to get away from Sam as soon as possible, "I have some things I have to do tonight."
Sam's shrugged off her flimsy excuse, placing the money on top of the check and sliding out of the booth, "It's cool. Maybe some other time."
The two of them walked to Quinn's car, where Sam kissed her gently before waving goodbye and leaving in his car. Quinn made sure he was out of sight before wiping away the traces of him that she still felt on her lips, trying to push away how wrong it had felt. Pulling out her phone, she rapidly sent a text to Rachel, telling her she would be at her house in ten minutes. At least her evening wouldn't be a total disappointment.
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
"Shit."
That pretty much summed it up, Rachel thought bitterly, as she stared at the gashes on her legs. They were an angry red and had swollen considerably since she had cut herself. She was sitting on the floor with her back resting against the side of her bed, trying to somehow tend to her cuts. The diva swore again as she dabbed more ointment on them, gritting her teeth at the pain.
She had barely even touched her leg for crying out loud! Rachel was stopped in the middle of her ministrations by the sound of the doorbell, signaling Quinn had arrived. Groaning, she hoisted herself up from the floor, and gingerly climbed down the stairs. The moment she opened the door, she was welcomed by the sight of a scowling Quinn, who stomped past Rachel and made a beeline for the living room. Rachel followed after her, just in time to see Quinn flop on top of the couch.
"I'm assuming your date didn't go well?" Rachel asked, taking her place at the end of the couch closest to Quinn's head.
Quinn made an unintelligible noise and lifted her head up, no doubt to start telling Rachel exactly how much of a disaster it had been, when her eyes fell on the tube of ointment still clutched in her hand. It didn't take long for her to find the angry red cuts on Rachel's thigh, that were still visible since Rachel had rolled up her sweatpants leg so she could put the ointment on them.
"When did you do that?" Quinn asked, sitting up and swinging Rachel's leg so it was resting over her lap to get a better look.
Rachel winced as the blonde's fingers ghosted over the area around the cuts, "Earlier this week. For some reason it hasn't healed properly."
"It looks infected," Quinn observed, frowning as she saw how swollen Rachel's thigh was, "Can I see that ointment?"
Rachel wordlessly handed it to her, and her frown deepened when she read the label, "That's not going to help."
Gently, Quinn moved Rachel's leg off of her lap and stood up, making her way to the nearest bathroom.
Rachel heard her rummaging through the cabinets, and was about to ask what the blonde was looking for when she came back to sit on the couch with a brown bottle, a couple of q-tips, and band aids in her hand.
"Give me your leg," Quinn commanded, and when Rachel looked ready to protest, she gave her a look.
Recognizing when to shut up, Rachel complied, and stretched her leg over Quinn's lap. Quinn unscrewed the lid to the bottle and dipped a q-tip inside. She screwed the lid back on and put the bottle next to her, grasping Rachel's leg so she wouldn't squirm.
"This is going to sting," she warned, waiting for Rachel to nod before, swabbing over the cuts.
Rachel hissed in pain and tried to move her leg away, but Quinn kept it in a viselike grip. The cheerio grabbed another q-tip and dipped it in the bottle again, rubbing it over the cuts. This time, Rachel managed to stifle her cry and kept her mouth clamped shut until Quinn was satisfied that the cuts were thoroughly disinfected. Quinn's face was an unreadable mask as she put fresh band-aids on top of the cuts.
The diva felt her stomach twist, a mixture of fear and guilt making her feel worse. She knew watching her hurt herself was tearing Quinn apart, but she kept doing it anyway. What made it worse was that Quinn accepted it, helping Rachel when she needed it, but never demanding an explanation.
"Here," Quinn said tiredly, handing the brown bottle to Rachel. When the brunette looked at her questioningly, she sighed.
"If you get another infection, just put the hydrogen peroxide on it to disinfect it."
"Oh," Rachel mumbled meekly, carefully lifting her legs off of Quinn's lap and taking the bottle, "Thank you."
She got up to put the bottle back in the bathroom and returned to find Quinn slumped against the couch, all thoughts of her date with Sam forgotten. The tension in the room increased as Rachel unrolled her sweatpants to hide the cuts and sat back down on the couch, making a mental note to avoid using her compass to cut again. She wasn't going anywhere near the hydrogen peroxide if she could help it.
It scares me, you know," Quinn said, her voice deceivingly calm.
Rachel tensed as she watched the cheerleader, who turned her gaze towards her. The hazel eyes seemed to stare right through her, seeing straight through the wall that she kept up around everyone else. Quinn took a deep breath and closed her eyes, looking like she was steeling herself to continue.
"Quinn," Rachel started to say, but the girl shook her head violently.
"I have to say this, even if it doesn't make a difference, you need to know."
Rachel nodded, taking the blonde's hand in her own to offer her some form of comfort. Quinn looked at their joined hands blinking back tears at Rachel's display of kindness, "I just feel so helpless all the time. I know I can't force you to stop cutting, and it helps you cope, but I'm afraid one day - " her voice broke and she squeezed Rachel's hand tighter.
Rachel brushed away the few tears that were falling from Quinn's eyes, simultaneously scooting closer to the girl so she could curl into her side. Quinn separated their hands so she could put an arm around Rachel, pulling her closer to her.
"I'm afraid one day I'm going to get there too late," she whispered, taking comfort in the rise and fall of Rachel's chest against her side, "What if I hadn't found you in the bathroom last week? What if you just lay there, b-bleeding until you passed out or worse?" Her voice had grown thick with emotion, and she found she couldn't continue.
"But you did find me," Rachel argued softly, meeting Quinn's tortured eyes with her own.
"Yeah, this time," Quinn choked out, "but what if next time I don't?"
"You can't think like that," Rachel protested, pulling slightly away from Quinn, "it's never going to come to that."
"How do you know?" Quinn asked, her voice trembling slightly. Rachel's heart throbbed painfully as she realized how truly worried the girl was about her. It scared her, and made her want to assure Quinn not to worry so much, that she was going to be okay; but the words wouldn't come.
Instead, she simply rested her head on Quinn's shoulder, feeling the cheerio's arms automatically wrap around her, as if she were afraid she could lose the singer at any moment.
"It won't," Rachel whispered, just loud enough for Quinn to hear. She was relieved when Quinn didn't question her, the slight tightening of her grip around her the only indication that she had heard Rachel at all.
The brunette would have been content to lie there in Quinn's arms for as long as she needed her to, but the sound of Quinn's stomach growling prevented any hope of that.
"Did you eat at all on your date?" Rachel asked aloud, diffusing the tension in the room.
Quinn let out a watery chuckle and managed to wipe the few tears that were still on her face, "Not exactly."
Disentangling herself from the blonde, Rachel stood up and headed to the kitchen, fully intent on finding something for her to eat. Within a few minutes, she had warmed up a slice of leftover pizza, and deposited it in front of Quinn, who attacked it hungrily. While Quinn ate, Rachel turned on the television, mindlessly channel surfing until she had finished.
"So what would you like to do?" Rachel asked, relieved when she saw that Quinn seemed to have partially recovered from her earlier outburst.
Quinn shifted uncomfortably, "Well I was wondering if - "
The sound of keys jingling in the lock made the pair of them freeze, simultaneously turning toward the front door. Seconds later, the door opened.
"Hey, Rachel, is Finn over? Because there's a car in the driveway but it doesn't look like - " Hiram Berry stopped in his tracks, eying the strange blonde girl who was sitting on the couch with a mixture of surprise and suspicion.
"Who are you?"