Pieces of Her, 24/?
Title: Pieces of Her, 24/?
Author: Kagekamay
Rating: R
Length: 3,236
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.
Quinn felt like she had barely slept at all when she woke up the next morning. Stifling a yawn, she sat up slowly and eyed her phone, wondering if Rachel had called her back. One quick look told her she hadn't, and with a resigned sigh, she swung her legs over her bed and got up to start getting ready.
Thankfully, her mother was still asleep when she went downstairs, which meant she wouldn't have to withstand the barrage of questions Rachel's absence would have undoubtedly caused. She grabbed her keys from the kitchen table and headed out the door. The wind nipped at her as she got into her car, and the blonde shivered while she pulled her cheerio's jacked closer around her.
Whatever was going on, it was making Quinn nervous, and she knew the sooner she could talk to Rachel, the better. It had nearly killed her to see the brunette standing there, looking just as shattered as she had when Quinn had found her in the bathroom. She couldn't accept that she had caused Rachel to look like that, she just couldn't.
The moment she got to school, she made a beeline for Rachel's locker, determined to catch the girl before she got to class. She positioned herself so that she had a good view of the hall and started looking for any sign of Rachel. She caught sight of a flash of brown hair, and her heart leapt momentarily, until she identified the girl as Santana coming towards her.
"You look like shit," she commented, casually leaning on the locker next to her.
Quinn would have laughed, if for no other reason than the statement was so blaringly obvious, if she didn't feel so completely helpless. Instead, she shrugged and continued to scan the crowd for Rachel.
Santana sighed and shook her head, "Did she ever text you back?"
The question caught her completely off guard, and Quinn actually turned to look at Santana.
"What?" she snapped.
"Nothing," Quinn said, "For a moment there I thought you actually sounded concerned."
Santana scoffed unconvincingly, and Quinn was tempted to push the Latina, but decided it was best not to.
"No, she didn't," she replied, returning her attention to the hallway, "I haven't even seen her yet."
Santana grunted in response, and the pair of them fell into silence, leaving Quinn to wonder what she was still doing here.
"So how long have you liked her?"
Quinn's eyes widened and her head whipped back around, "I don't," she denied quickly. Too quickly.
Santana actually laughed, "Really? After everything that happened yesterday you expect me to believe you?"
Quinn's shoulders slumped in defeat, "No, not really."
"I just can't believe I didn't realize it sooner," Santana admitted, "I mean I thought something was weird at the mall, and it explains a lot, but… you and Berry?"
"There's not much of a me and Rachel," Quinn mumbled bitterly, "I mean I thought maybe…but she said she just wants to be friends right now."
"And you're just gonna go with that?" Santana said disbelievingly.
Quinn shrugged, "I don't have much of a choice. And I can't do anything about it right now even if I wanted to; Rachel doesn't want anything to do with me."
The bell rang at that moment, and the students milling about started to go to their classes. The two cheerios, however acted as if they hadn't even heard the bell.
"Shouldn't you be making fun of me right about now?" Quinn asked.
Santana pushed off the locker, "I should be, right?" she mused, "I mean you're in love with a dwarf."
She rolled her eyes, catching Quinn's glare, "but given everything that's happening, I'm not going to."
"How nice of you, Santana," Quinn said with a straight face, causing the shorter girl to bump her shoulder, "Shut up, Blondie."
But the corners of Santana's mouth were quirking up a little, and Quinn felt a bit better, but it didn't last long.
Sighing she returned her attention to the problem at hand, "I still don't know what I'm going to do about Rachel."
"Well then you're in luck, because B and I think we have an answer."
Quinn cocked her head to the side, "You do?"
"Look you want Berry right?"
Quinn nodded, and Santana continued, "Then sing her a song. She loves that shit."
Quinn blinked, "That's…actually perfect."
It made sense. It was the one thing she hadn't tried yet, and it wasn't like forcing Rachel to talk had ever gotten her anywhere. Maybe if she showed her how she felt, Rachel would be more willing to talk.
"Great," Santana said, jolting Quinn out of her thoughts, "so let's get to it."
Quinn's eyebrows furrowed, her confusion only growing when Santana grabbed her forearm and started to drag her down the hallway.
"Get to what exactly?" she asked, yanking her arm out of the smaller girl's grip and standing her ground.
"Choosing a song," Santana said impatiently, "you're singing it today."
"I'm what?" Quinn squeaked, looking at Santana as if she were crazy, "There's no way I can have a song ready by the end of today! I-I have classes and the competition is today!"
"So skip," the Latina said, waving her hand dismissively, "and Schuester's competitions are a bunch of crap. Chances are he completely forgot about it anyway."
Quinn opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again to argue, but she couldn't. She didn't even know why she was so dead set against the idea.
"Fine," she relented, and then the rest of Santana's words caught up to her, "Wait, we? You're helping me?"
Santana rolled her eyes, "Listen, Fabray," she growled, "I'm going to let you in on a little secret."
She looked around quickly to make sure they were alone and lowered her voice so that Quinn had to lean in to hear her.
"You see, there's this amazing girl that I would do anything for, and if she wants me to help you, even if it means being nice to Berry is part of the deal, then that's what I'm going to do. Sound good to you?"
Quinn simply nodded, and Santana looked satisfied.
She started to walk forward, but she paused and turned back to Quinn, "And if you ever repeat that to anyone, I will go Lima Heights on your ass."
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
The moment Rachel's alarm clock went off, she slammed her hand down on top of it and tried to get back to sleep. Instead, she ended up staring at the mess on the bathroom floor, one arm dangling uselessly over the edge of her bed for a good hour before she mustered enough energy to sit up and shrug out of her hoodie. Her whole body ached, and her skin itched where the blood had dried against the bandages. They clung to her skin as she unwrapped them, making her grit her teeth, but she didn't utter a sound. With a practiced eye, she scanned her arms and stomach for infection, but the cuts seemed to be healing normally. Her eyes hovered over the word she had carved onto her arm and Rachel had to tear her gaze away to stop her shame from growing.
And to think she had been so sure she was getting better, that maybe she could get back to being normal; but no. What was normal anyway? The Rachel who had no friends, that everyone hated? The one who pretended to be happy, that put on her show face every day, clinging to the hope that the memories of pain and humiliation would fade once she left Lima? No, she wouldn't go back to that.
She pulled the hoodie back on, leaving the used bandages on her bed, and gave the bathroom one last glance before deciding she was too exhausted to clean it up; she could always do it later. With a soft groan, she forced herself to stand and made her way downstairs. She would just have something to eat and then go back to sleep, since going to school was out of the question. Her hand was reaching for the lone banana in the fruit bowl when the doorbell rang. She hesitated, wondering who could be at the door at this hour, and if they would go away if she stayed quiet. As if to answer her question, the person started rapping insistently on her door.
"Great," she mumbled, thoughts racing as she tried to conjure a way out of the situation.
As quietly as she could, she made her way to the door and stood on her tiptoes to see out of the peephole.
A flash of blonde hair made her freeze, but she quickly calmed down when she recognized who it was. Cautiously she unlocked the door, and opened the door a crack, just to be sure.
The girl on the other side smiled and waved at her, "Hi, Rachel! Can I come in?"
"S-sure," she stammered, opening the door wider so that Brittany could come inside.
"Thanks!" the blonde breezed past her and headed to the living room.
Rachel just shook her head and closed the door before following behind the cheerio who had taken a seat on the couch.
"Not to be rude, Brittany," she said carefully, sitting down next to her, "but what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you," the girl replied simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Rachel wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she busied herself with twisting her hands in her lap.
"You're still sad."
Rachel's insides clenched uncomfortably, but she knew there was no use lying to the blonde. She nodded, and immediately had to blink back tears that seemed to have come out of nowhere. A warm arm slid around her back, and she found herself plastered to Brittany's side in a one armed embrace.
"I don't like it when you're sad," the blonde admitted quietly, tilting her head so it was resting on top of Rachel's, "It makes my stomach hurt."
"Shouldn't you be at school?" Rachel asked, trying to deflect the conversation from her.
Brittany frowned, "Yeah, but you're more important right now."
"N-no," she tried to peel herself away from the blonde, "I can wait. There's the competition to th-think about, and I'm just…" she sighed, searching for the words, "…I'm not worth it, Brittany," she finished in a whisper.
"Well I think you are," the blonde said firmly, squeezing the smaller girl a little tighter.
Rachel sniffled and shook her head, "I'm n-not, I - "
"You are," Brittany said again with even more certainty.
She dropped her arm from around Rachel, and slid her hand into her pocket, pulling out a small box.
"Here," she said, handing it to Rachel," it's not much, but I hope it helps."
"But Brittany," Rachel stammered, turning the box over uncomprehendingly in her hand, "why are you giving me band aids?"
The blonde smiled sadly, shrugging her shoulders.
Rachel's lip trembled, the truth suddenly dawning on her as she stared at Brittany.
"H-how long have you - ," her words failed her, but Brittany seemed to get the gist of it.
"For a while," Brittany admitted guiltily, "I figured it out after I found you in the auditorium. You're not a very good liar, Rach," she added, a serious look on her face.
The brunette choked back a laugh, and suddenly she was sobbing, whether with relief at being found out, or dismay that yet another person knew what a freak she was, she wasn't sure.
Strong arms wrapped around her, making soft shushing noises in her ear as she rocked her back and forth.
"It's okay," Brittany whispered, "You're going to be okay."
A disturbing sense of déjà vu overcame the diva as she remembered another blonde cheerleader doing almost the exact same thing when she discovered her secret. Thoughts of Quinn just made her cry harder, and she clung tightly to Brittany, the pain clawing at her insides as she gasped for air. Why was she so incapable of shielding herself from all her emotions when it came to Quinn? Brittany waited patiently until her sobs had dissolved into small whimpers before she gently extricated herself from Rachel.
"Better?" she asked, wiping the pad of her thumb down Rachel's cheek.
Rachel took a breath and shook her head, "N-no. Why didn't you tell me you knew?"
"I was going to, you know, when you calmed down. You were really scared when I found you, Rach, and I knew if I pushed, you would panic and wouldn't let me help you."
Rachel smiled a little in spite of herself. Brittany's words rang a little too true.
"But then we ran into Santana, and then Quinn, and well…I didn't get a chance to tell you. I tried to make it up by giving you those band aids, remember?"
Rachel nodded to show she did, and Brittany continued, "but I wasn't sure if you used them all up already, so that's why I brought more. I'm sorry that's all I could do, but if you didn't let Quinn help you, I was going to say something. Well, that's why I'm here now anyway," she finished, looking up nervously, "to help."
Rachel sat still, stunned by Brittany's explanation. She was looking at the girl with new eyes now, and the simple sincerity and care that she saw floored her. It was almost as if Brittany knew exactly how cracked and broken she had become, how far she had fallen; and now all she wanted to do was help piece back whatever she could. Rachel knew what she had to do. Taking a deep breath she handed the band aids to Brittany, and looked into her blue eyes, her heart racing. Slowly, purposefully, she started to roll up one of the sleeves of her hoodie, her eyes never leaving Brittany's, until the cuts she had made last night were exposed.
She resisted the need to cover them, and prayed that Brittany understood what she wanted. The blonde opened the box of band aids and selected one with colorful polka dots. Gently, Brittany took her arm in one of her hands and examined the cuts, while Rachel willed herself to stay still as her fingers skimmed across her skin. Carefully, Brittany placed the band aid on one of the deeper cuts. She then got another band aid and repeated her actions, until Rachel's arm was covered in colorful band aids.
"Now you have something pretty to look at," she said, kissing one of the band aids and letting go of Rachel's arm.
The brunette sucked in a breath and felt tears stinging her eyes again as she managed a nod. Without warning, she reached out and grabbed one of Brittany's hands, squeezing it to convey her thanks. Brittany smiled and squeezed back, but the beeping of her phone ruined the silence.
Brittany pulled out her phone and flipped it open. She scanned the text quickly, and her face broke out into a wide smile before she closed it.
Excitedly she turned to Rachel, "I have a huge favor to ask you, Rach."
She paused to compose herself so that she had a serious look on her face, "Will you please come to glee with me later?"
Rachel bit her lip and was already shaking her head, "I can't, Brittany. I don't feel like performing, and I'd rather not see anyone right now."
Brittany wilted in front of her and looked at her pleadingly, "Please, Rachel? You can just watch us perform, and we can hang out here for now, but it's really important that you go."
"Well, I - "
"Please?"
"A-alright. I'll go I guess."
"Yay!" Brittany exclaimed, launching herself forwards, and wrapping her arms around Rachel's neck.
The brunette tensed, but she wrapped her own arms around Brittany a second later, wondering what on earth was so important about glee, that would get Brittany so excited.
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
"So you found anything yet," Santana called to Quinn, who was scanning lists of songs on the library computer.
"Nope," she said distractedly, clicking on a link to another song. She turned around to see Santana typing away on her phone.
"Brittany?" she guessed, and Santana made an affirmative noise.
"Where is she anyway?" Quinn asked offhandedly as she returned her attention to the computer, "I thought she had a free period now."
"Home," she answered, snapping her phone shut, "she had to watch Charity."
Santana came closer and leaned over her frowning as she stared at the screen, "Seriously? Kelly Clarkson?"
"That's just one song," Quinn said defensively, quickly exiting the screen, "I'm not really looking for anything specific."
Santana snorted and turned her back on the computer, mumbling to herself and pulling her phone back out when it dinged. Quinn ignored her and stared at the screen, her fingers drummed aimlessly on the mouse as she wracked her brain for a song.
The truth was, she had no idea what she was looking for. She was going to come clean to Rachel, that much she knew, but she wasn't exactly planning on serenading her. It wasn't her feelings that she wanted to communicate; she just wanted Rachel to know that she was always going to be there, that she hadn't given up on her and she never would.
And there it was. Staring at her in the face was the song. She remembered hearing it one day on the way home from Cheerios practice, and she had immediately felt a connection with it. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed in the lyrics she could remember. The results popped up, and the moment she saw the name she knew it was perfect.
"Hey, Santana," she called shakily looking behind her to where the girl was still texting.
She glanced up and looked questioningly at Quinn.
"I think I've got the song."
Author: Kagekamay
Rating: R
Length: 3,236
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.
Quinn felt like she had barely slept at all when she woke up the next morning. Stifling a yawn, she sat up slowly and eyed her phone, wondering if Rachel had called her back. One quick look told her she hadn't, and with a resigned sigh, she swung her legs over her bed and got up to start getting ready.
Thankfully, her mother was still asleep when she went downstairs, which meant she wouldn't have to withstand the barrage of questions Rachel's absence would have undoubtedly caused. She grabbed her keys from the kitchen table and headed out the door. The wind nipped at her as she got into her car, and the blonde shivered while she pulled her cheerio's jacked closer around her.
Whatever was going on, it was making Quinn nervous, and she knew the sooner she could talk to Rachel, the better. It had nearly killed her to see the brunette standing there, looking just as shattered as she had when Quinn had found her in the bathroom. She couldn't accept that she had caused Rachel to look like that, she just couldn't.
The moment she got to school, she made a beeline for Rachel's locker, determined to catch the girl before she got to class. She positioned herself so that she had a good view of the hall and started looking for any sign of Rachel. She caught sight of a flash of brown hair, and her heart leapt momentarily, until she identified the girl as Santana coming towards her.
"You look like shit," she commented, casually leaning on the locker next to her.
Quinn would have laughed, if for no other reason than the statement was so blaringly obvious, if she didn't feel so completely helpless. Instead, she shrugged and continued to scan the crowd for Rachel.
Santana sighed and shook her head, "Did she ever text you back?"
The question caught her completely off guard, and Quinn actually turned to look at Santana.
"What?" she snapped.
"Nothing," Quinn said, "For a moment there I thought you actually sounded concerned."
Santana scoffed unconvincingly, and Quinn was tempted to push the Latina, but decided it was best not to.
"No, she didn't," she replied, returning her attention to the hallway, "I haven't even seen her yet."
Santana grunted in response, and the pair of them fell into silence, leaving Quinn to wonder what she was still doing here.
"So how long have you liked her?"
Quinn's eyes widened and her head whipped back around, "I don't," she denied quickly. Too quickly.
Santana actually laughed, "Really? After everything that happened yesterday you expect me to believe you?"
Quinn's shoulders slumped in defeat, "No, not really."
"I just can't believe I didn't realize it sooner," Santana admitted, "I mean I thought something was weird at the mall, and it explains a lot, but… you and Berry?"
"There's not much of a me and Rachel," Quinn mumbled bitterly, "I mean I thought maybe…but she said she just wants to be friends right now."
"And you're just gonna go with that?" Santana said disbelievingly.
Quinn shrugged, "I don't have much of a choice. And I can't do anything about it right now even if I wanted to; Rachel doesn't want anything to do with me."
The bell rang at that moment, and the students milling about started to go to their classes. The two cheerios, however acted as if they hadn't even heard the bell.
"Shouldn't you be making fun of me right about now?" Quinn asked.
Santana pushed off the locker, "I should be, right?" she mused, "I mean you're in love with a dwarf."
She rolled her eyes, catching Quinn's glare, "but given everything that's happening, I'm not going to."
"How nice of you, Santana," Quinn said with a straight face, causing the shorter girl to bump her shoulder, "Shut up, Blondie."
But the corners of Santana's mouth were quirking up a little, and Quinn felt a bit better, but it didn't last long.
Sighing she returned her attention to the problem at hand, "I still don't know what I'm going to do about Rachel."
"Well then you're in luck, because B and I think we have an answer."
Quinn cocked her head to the side, "You do?"
"Look you want Berry right?"
Quinn nodded, and Santana continued, "Then sing her a song. She loves that shit."
Quinn blinked, "That's…actually perfect."
It made sense. It was the one thing she hadn't tried yet, and it wasn't like forcing Rachel to talk had ever gotten her anywhere. Maybe if she showed her how she felt, Rachel would be more willing to talk.
"Great," Santana said, jolting Quinn out of her thoughts, "so let's get to it."
Quinn's eyebrows furrowed, her confusion only growing when Santana grabbed her forearm and started to drag her down the hallway.
"Get to what exactly?" she asked, yanking her arm out of the smaller girl's grip and standing her ground.
"Choosing a song," Santana said impatiently, "you're singing it today."
"I'm what?" Quinn squeaked, looking at Santana as if she were crazy, "There's no way I can have a song ready by the end of today! I-I have classes and the competition is today!"
"So skip," the Latina said, waving her hand dismissively, "and Schuester's competitions are a bunch of crap. Chances are he completely forgot about it anyway."
Quinn opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again to argue, but she couldn't. She didn't even know why she was so dead set against the idea.
"Fine," she relented, and then the rest of Santana's words caught up to her, "Wait, we? You're helping me?"
Santana rolled her eyes, "Listen, Fabray," she growled, "I'm going to let you in on a little secret."
She looked around quickly to make sure they were alone and lowered her voice so that Quinn had to lean in to hear her.
"You see, there's this amazing girl that I would do anything for, and if she wants me to help you, even if it means being nice to Berry is part of the deal, then that's what I'm going to do. Sound good to you?"
Quinn simply nodded, and Santana looked satisfied.
She started to walk forward, but she paused and turned back to Quinn, "And if you ever repeat that to anyone, I will go Lima Heights on your ass."
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
The moment Rachel's alarm clock went off, she slammed her hand down on top of it and tried to get back to sleep. Instead, she ended up staring at the mess on the bathroom floor, one arm dangling uselessly over the edge of her bed for a good hour before she mustered enough energy to sit up and shrug out of her hoodie. Her whole body ached, and her skin itched where the blood had dried against the bandages. They clung to her skin as she unwrapped them, making her grit her teeth, but she didn't utter a sound. With a practiced eye, she scanned her arms and stomach for infection, but the cuts seemed to be healing normally. Her eyes hovered over the word she had carved onto her arm and Rachel had to tear her gaze away to stop her shame from growing.
And to think she had been so sure she was getting better, that maybe she could get back to being normal; but no. What was normal anyway? The Rachel who had no friends, that everyone hated? The one who pretended to be happy, that put on her show face every day, clinging to the hope that the memories of pain and humiliation would fade once she left Lima? No, she wouldn't go back to that.
She pulled the hoodie back on, leaving the used bandages on her bed, and gave the bathroom one last glance before deciding she was too exhausted to clean it up; she could always do it later. With a soft groan, she forced herself to stand and made her way downstairs. She would just have something to eat and then go back to sleep, since going to school was out of the question. Her hand was reaching for the lone banana in the fruit bowl when the doorbell rang. She hesitated, wondering who could be at the door at this hour, and if they would go away if she stayed quiet. As if to answer her question, the person started rapping insistently on her door.
"Great," she mumbled, thoughts racing as she tried to conjure a way out of the situation.
As quietly as she could, she made her way to the door and stood on her tiptoes to see out of the peephole.
A flash of blonde hair made her freeze, but she quickly calmed down when she recognized who it was. Cautiously she unlocked the door, and opened the door a crack, just to be sure.
The girl on the other side smiled and waved at her, "Hi, Rachel! Can I come in?"
"S-sure," she stammered, opening the door wider so that Brittany could come inside.
"Thanks!" the blonde breezed past her and headed to the living room.
Rachel just shook her head and closed the door before following behind the cheerio who had taken a seat on the couch.
"Not to be rude, Brittany," she said carefully, sitting down next to her, "but what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you," the girl replied simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Rachel wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she busied herself with twisting her hands in her lap.
"You're still sad."
Rachel's insides clenched uncomfortably, but she knew there was no use lying to the blonde. She nodded, and immediately had to blink back tears that seemed to have come out of nowhere. A warm arm slid around her back, and she found herself plastered to Brittany's side in a one armed embrace.
"I don't like it when you're sad," the blonde admitted quietly, tilting her head so it was resting on top of Rachel's, "It makes my stomach hurt."
"Shouldn't you be at school?" Rachel asked, trying to deflect the conversation from her.
Brittany frowned, "Yeah, but you're more important right now."
"N-no," she tried to peel herself away from the blonde, "I can wait. There's the competition to th-think about, and I'm just…" she sighed, searching for the words, "…I'm not worth it, Brittany," she finished in a whisper.
"Well I think you are," the blonde said firmly, squeezing the smaller girl a little tighter.
Rachel sniffled and shook her head, "I'm n-not, I - "
"You are," Brittany said again with even more certainty.
She dropped her arm from around Rachel, and slid her hand into her pocket, pulling out a small box.
"Here," she said, handing it to Rachel," it's not much, but I hope it helps."
"But Brittany," Rachel stammered, turning the box over uncomprehendingly in her hand, "why are you giving me band aids?"
The blonde smiled sadly, shrugging her shoulders.
Rachel's lip trembled, the truth suddenly dawning on her as she stared at Brittany.
"H-how long have you - ," her words failed her, but Brittany seemed to get the gist of it.
"For a while," Brittany admitted guiltily, "I figured it out after I found you in the auditorium. You're not a very good liar, Rach," she added, a serious look on her face.
The brunette choked back a laugh, and suddenly she was sobbing, whether with relief at being found out, or dismay that yet another person knew what a freak she was, she wasn't sure.
Strong arms wrapped around her, making soft shushing noises in her ear as she rocked her back and forth.
"It's okay," Brittany whispered, "You're going to be okay."
A disturbing sense of déjà vu overcame the diva as she remembered another blonde cheerleader doing almost the exact same thing when she discovered her secret. Thoughts of Quinn just made her cry harder, and she clung tightly to Brittany, the pain clawing at her insides as she gasped for air. Why was she so incapable of shielding herself from all her emotions when it came to Quinn? Brittany waited patiently until her sobs had dissolved into small whimpers before she gently extricated herself from Rachel.
"Better?" she asked, wiping the pad of her thumb down Rachel's cheek.
Rachel took a breath and shook her head, "N-no. Why didn't you tell me you knew?"
"I was going to, you know, when you calmed down. You were really scared when I found you, Rach, and I knew if I pushed, you would panic and wouldn't let me help you."
Rachel smiled a little in spite of herself. Brittany's words rang a little too true.
"But then we ran into Santana, and then Quinn, and well…I didn't get a chance to tell you. I tried to make it up by giving you those band aids, remember?"
Rachel nodded to show she did, and Brittany continued, "but I wasn't sure if you used them all up already, so that's why I brought more. I'm sorry that's all I could do, but if you didn't let Quinn help you, I was going to say something. Well, that's why I'm here now anyway," she finished, looking up nervously, "to help."
Rachel sat still, stunned by Brittany's explanation. She was looking at the girl with new eyes now, and the simple sincerity and care that she saw floored her. It was almost as if Brittany knew exactly how cracked and broken she had become, how far she had fallen; and now all she wanted to do was help piece back whatever she could. Rachel knew what she had to do. Taking a deep breath she handed the band aids to Brittany, and looked into her blue eyes, her heart racing. Slowly, purposefully, she started to roll up one of the sleeves of her hoodie, her eyes never leaving Brittany's, until the cuts she had made last night were exposed.
She resisted the need to cover them, and prayed that Brittany understood what she wanted. The blonde opened the box of band aids and selected one with colorful polka dots. Gently, Brittany took her arm in one of her hands and examined the cuts, while Rachel willed herself to stay still as her fingers skimmed across her skin. Carefully, Brittany placed the band aid on one of the deeper cuts. She then got another band aid and repeated her actions, until Rachel's arm was covered in colorful band aids.
"Now you have something pretty to look at," she said, kissing one of the band aids and letting go of Rachel's arm.
The brunette sucked in a breath and felt tears stinging her eyes again as she managed a nod. Without warning, she reached out and grabbed one of Brittany's hands, squeezing it to convey her thanks. Brittany smiled and squeezed back, but the beeping of her phone ruined the silence.
Brittany pulled out her phone and flipped it open. She scanned the text quickly, and her face broke out into a wide smile before she closed it.
Excitedly she turned to Rachel, "I have a huge favor to ask you, Rach."
She paused to compose herself so that she had a serious look on her face, "Will you please come to glee with me later?"
Rachel bit her lip and was already shaking her head, "I can't, Brittany. I don't feel like performing, and I'd rather not see anyone right now."
Brittany wilted in front of her and looked at her pleadingly, "Please, Rachel? You can just watch us perform, and we can hang out here for now, but it's really important that you go."
"Well, I - "
"Please?"
"A-alright. I'll go I guess."
"Yay!" Brittany exclaimed, launching herself forwards, and wrapping her arms around Rachel's neck.
The brunette tensed, but she wrapped her own arms around Brittany a second later, wondering what on earth was so important about glee, that would get Brittany so excited.
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"So you found anything yet," Santana called to Quinn, who was scanning lists of songs on the library computer.
"Nope," she said distractedly, clicking on a link to another song. She turned around to see Santana typing away on her phone.
"Brittany?" she guessed, and Santana made an affirmative noise.
"Where is she anyway?" Quinn asked offhandedly as she returned her attention to the computer, "I thought she had a free period now."
"Home," she answered, snapping her phone shut, "she had to watch Charity."
Santana came closer and leaned over her frowning as she stared at the screen, "Seriously? Kelly Clarkson?"
"That's just one song," Quinn said defensively, quickly exiting the screen, "I'm not really looking for anything specific."
Santana snorted and turned her back on the computer, mumbling to herself and pulling her phone back out when it dinged. Quinn ignored her and stared at the screen, her fingers drummed aimlessly on the mouse as she wracked her brain for a song.
The truth was, she had no idea what she was looking for. She was going to come clean to Rachel, that much she knew, but she wasn't exactly planning on serenading her. It wasn't her feelings that she wanted to communicate; she just wanted Rachel to know that she was always going to be there, that she hadn't given up on her and she never would.
And there it was. Staring at her in the face was the song. She remembered hearing it one day on the way home from Cheerios practice, and she had immediately felt a connection with it. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed in the lyrics she could remember. The results popped up, and the moment she saw the name she knew it was perfect.
"Hey, Santana," she called shakily looking behind her to where the girl was still texting.
She glanced up and looked questioningly at Quinn.
"I think I've got the song."