Title: All of My Memories Keep You Near
Author:
kait1987 Character(s)/Pairing(s): Quinn/Puck
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 800
Spoilers: General season 1 spoilers
Summary: Quinn struggles with her emotions on Beth's first birthday.
April 24th
Quinn tries desperately to ignore the date on her calendar, even going as far as flipping a month ahead to May because every time she sees the bold, black numbers, she wants to vomit. It doesn’t matter what she does though; the events of April 24th are woven deeply into her memory like the plot of a well-worn novel. It is in the quiet moments, when she closes her eyes and allows herself to breathe, that she remembers. She remembers everything- the dull ache that started in her back during the bus ride to Regionals and quickly turned into cramping, the exact moment she realized what was happening, and the fact that through a haze of pain and paralyzing fear all she could think about was how much she wanted a dry pair of underwear.
Her friends were good to her, so good to her that she’s still not sure she is deserving of them. Brittany sat beside her, diligently rubbing the small of her back and murmuring soft words of encouragement against her ear while Santana, of all people, offered Quinn her hand to squeeze, not even batting an eyelash when she dug her nails into her flesh. Mercedes gently pressed a cool water bottle to the back of her neck when the intense pain made her sick and she felt so very loved. Those are the parts of the day she doesn’t mind remembering; those parts and Beth, who exceeded Quinn’s expectations in every way possible. She was more beautiful, more perfect and Quinn loved her more than she thought was humanly capable. It was a suffocating kind of love that made her chest ache. A be all, end all, I will love you forever and would lay down my life for you sort of love. It was beautiful, up until the very moment Quinn placed her baby in the arms of the woman she would forever know as mommy, and then it was not.
Love, Quinn finds, does a funny thing when it doesn’t have anywhere to go. It becomes destructive, tearing away at a person’s insides bit by bit. She spends every day pretending she doesn’t miss Beth terribly because none of her friends seem to understand that there is a difference between not wanting a baby and not being able to keep a baby. They don’t realize that every night Quinn pulls a tiny hospital bracelet from the box underneath her bed, presses it to her heart, and cries because it’s the only tangible proof that Beth was ever hers.
Trying to ignore the day isn’t working and Quinn needs to do something, anything, other than feel sorry for herself so she decides to celebrate Beth instead, on the day she came into her life and unequivocally changed it forever. She wanders down to the grocery store in search of a small pink cake but finds herself staring at a case of strawberry wine coolers. She picks them up without thinking and is eternally grateful that the checkout boy is too young and distracted to ask her for her ID. She knows it’s a totally inappropriate way to celebrate a one-year-old, but it seems oddly fitting since wine coolers were what brought her into the world in the first place.
Quinn lets her feet lead her as she opens a bottle and drinks it quickly, hoping the alcohol will numb her pain. By the time she reaches her destination she’s halfway through her second bottle and her head is fuzzy.
“Puck,” she demands, banging on the door repeatedly and ringing the doorbell for good measure. “Open up!”
“Jesus, Quinn,” he flings open the door, blinking in the harsh light of the sun. “What’s the matter with you?”
“It’s her birthday,” she offers like it’s a logical explanation.
He takes her hand and pulls her into his otherwise empty house. “I know.”
“I hurt,” she emphasizes the word, looking up at him with tears welling in her eyes. “I want you to make it stop. You owe me that much.”
“Q…”
She shakes her head, pushing her mouth against his. “I need to feel something other than this.”
“You’re drunk,” he states, tasting the alcohol on her lips.
Quinn shrugs, already working her sundress over her head. “That has never stopped you before.”
Puck looks at her and she recognizes sadness in his own eyes. “Not today, not like this.” He brings a hand to rest on the slight swell that still remains in her lower abdomen where muscle and skin had given way for eight pounds of baby, lightly brushing his thumb over one of her faded stretch marks.
“Puck…”she chokes out.
He wraps his arms around her and presses a kiss to her head before murmuring, “I know. I miss her too.”
A/N: As always, comments are much appreciated!