fic: deus ex machina
Title: Deus Ex Machina [god in the machine]
Chapter: Six
Author: lifeawakening
Words: 7,483
Rating: R (For future scary images, language, and sexual references)
Summary: Rachel Berry always knew that she was a little bit psychic. In fact, Rachel Berry thought she knew just about everything. That is, until a spirit that refused to die entered her life like a train-wreck. It's only after Rachel's fallen in love that she realizes life doesn't exactly go as planned; and neither does death, for that matter.
Author's Note: I just wanted to apologize to everyone for taking so long to get this damn chapter up. I had a lot of things go on in my life that prevented me from being able to write, and I was going through a hard time. However, I've managed to channel some of that energy and find a way to write again. I will never have a hiatus that long again. I hope you all can forgive me, and I hope that this chapter more than makes up for it. Also, I'll go back to regularly posting every other Friday, I just wanted to get this to you guys as soon as possible because you've waited long enough.
For a week after Quinn disappeared, Rachel discovered that blasting music to try to drown out the silence in her mind, failed. After two weeks, the brunette started considering the words “alive” and “dead” to be curse words; and consequentially reprimanded everyone and anyone who used them.
Rachel woke up that Wednesday morning, the exact morning that marked exactly two weeks sans Quinn, and groaned. There was a soft knock on the door that Rachel barely turned her head towards before asking, “Yes?”
Leroy poked his head in, and smiled at Rachel softly, “There’s ten minutes until you’ve officially overslept by three hours, Rachel. Would you like to stay in bed again, today? Your father and I decided, after hearing your fifth embellished groan from downstairs, that you might need another day off. We realize you’re still upset and are completely willing to console you during your time of loss. But, you really need to at least shower today. Your father and I didn’t say anything about it to you yesterday,” the man said, staying at his spot behind the door, “but by now I’m sure you realize that bathing is a good option. We would appreciate it. Also, breakfast is on the table. While we understand the grieving process is emotionally daunting, we also think it’s a good idea for you to eat, as well.”
With that, Leroy nodded and shut the door. Rachel stared at the door before moving her head back to stare at the ceiling.
Okay, so maybe she was depressed, Rachel thought as she lied flat on her back, staring up and wincing against the beam of light streaming in through her blinds. She had reason to be depressed, though. Three glaring reasons, actually. The brunette stared a hole through her ceiling to the clouds outside as she thought of Quinn. Beautiful, damaged, young Quinn, her ghost. Her ghost. Two weeks is a long time.
“Two weeks is a long time,” Rachel repeated, voicing her thought. But Quinn wasn’t the only reason Rachel was depressed; albeit, she was the main reason.
There were the nightmares. Granted, Rachel always had the nightmare about the crash every couple of months, but these were different. For the past two weeks, either she’d have these new nightmares or she just wouldn’t dream at all. She chalked it up to missing Quinn, but something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. If Rachel didn’t know better, she would guess that these nightmares had something to do with the Ombra, and she didn’t know how to handle this on her own. She supposed that led her back to Quinn again, ironically enough. Everything seemed to lead Rachel back to Quinn now.
Except her so-called “friends”. They didn’t lead her back to missing Quinn, they hurled her back into missing Quinn. They were awful. All Rachel wanted to do was be able to spend some of the break keeping up with vocal exercises, but they still refused to see her. Finn would call a few times a day, but Rachel would ignore that call every time. Puck just flat out refused to even acknowledge that she was alive. Fine by her, Rachel would think, since she wouldn’t even acknowledge that she was alive anymore.
Quinn was gone. That thought passed through Rachel’s mind countless times a day, in an hour, in an instant. Quinn was gone. Had she passed on? Had she just decided to leave Rachel? Or had it been Rachel’s fault? Had Quinn been taken away because Rachel had seen her?
“No,” Rachel heard an almost unrecognizable voice answer her own thoughts, “It wasn’t your fault. She didn’t just leave. She wouldn’t have left voluntarily. Maybe she needs your help, did you ever stop to think of that? Maybe while you’ve been wallowing in your own personal hell, Quinn’s been waiting for you to come save her.”
Rachel stared holes through the ceiling for a few more moments before letting out a short laugh. “Get up,” the voice said again, “get up.” It took Rachel a moment before the realization dawned upon her; the voice was hers.
And so she got up. Slowly, Rachel lowered her feet to the floor and held her head up high for the first time in weeks. Granted, Rachel had gone to Quinn’s house twice after the incident; the first time was the day after, and she found nothing, while the second had been a week later and she again found nothing. Part of Rachel was terrified to go back now and find nothing, no sign of Quinn; but a larger part of her was more terrified of living another day inside her toxic mind. She slipped into a pair of tennis shoes and didn’t change out of her sweats as she walked out of her bedroom door, almost in a trance-like state.
Rachel paused at the bottom of the stairs and listened to her fathers talk about her over the breakfast table. The brunette, in a pair of faded McKinley sweatpants with the year 2000 printed on them and a plain white scoop-neck T-shirt, quickly made her way out of the front door unnoticed. Truthfully, she thought, her fathers probably wouldn’t notice her absence at all since she’d hardly been out of her room for the past two weeks anyway; the beauty of winter break.
The brunette silently cursed herself for running out of the house with neither a jacket nor car keys as she started jogging halfway down her driveway. All Rachel knew was that no amount of snow or bone-chilling Lima weather was going to stop her from getting to Quinn. She couldn’t give up, she couldn’t, and she could kick herself for almost doing just that.
As the wind whipped Rachel’s hair around her face and stung her eyes to the point of tearing up, she ran. She ran past her fellow gleek’s houses and didn’t spare them one look. She ran over cracks in the sidewalk and leapt over snow piles in the street. She ran past the cherry tree in Quinn’s front yard and she ran up the porch steps. Rachel paused, however, as her hand hovered over the doorknob. She used to know that she could just walk in and it would be fine, but what about now? Would it be locked? Would someone have broken in while Quinn wasn’t around to scare intruders off? Rachel’s hand shook, and she tried to still it, before she sucked in a breath and twisted her wrist in a quick motion, opening the door.
The second Rachel stepped into the threshold, she was in a panic. She had to find Quinn here this time, she had to. Quinn had to be here. There was no other explanation and no other option. Quinn was here, Rachel could feel it.
“Quinn?” Rachel called as she ran into the kitchen. Nothing. Rachel repeated her call as she ran across the hall and into the living room. Again, nothing. She would know the second she walked into the same room as Quinn because she would be ignited by that electrical current that only passed through her body when the ghost was around. Rachel tore apart the entire downstairs before hastily making her way up to the second floor.
The brunette ran a shaky hand through her hair as she stepped off of the last step and onto the hardwood floor. Her Nike’s made no noise as she slowly walked to the room that she had been standing in with Quinn right before all hell broke loose. Quinn’s room. Shrine. Whatever. Rachel paused in the doorway as she let her eyes carefully roam the room, taking in every detail, seeing if anything was out of place. Her breath caught when she found the one minute detail that was indeed out of place.
The indentation in the pillow on Quinn’s bed. That hadn’t been there two weeks ago. That hadn’t been there one week ago. Rachel’s eyebrows furrowed together and her face contorted in desperation as she stepped into the room, hoping to feel that jolt of electricity when she did so. And she did. “Oh, Quinn,” Rachel breathed out, almost silently, as she took long strides to the bed. “Quinn,” Rachel repeated, louder, as she prayed for a response.
Almost immediately, Rachel’s ears were greeted by the sound of a low groan from somewhere within Quinn’s chest, and Rachel felt like she could finally breathe again for the first time in two weeks.
Rachel dropped to her knees at the side of Quinn’s bed and brought her hands up to her chest, trying to still her heaving chest as she clearly stated, “Quinn, I’m here for you now.” The smile that painted itself on Rachel’s features was involuntary as she heard Quinn groan in appreciation, this time far less strangled.
The brunette stood up and bit her lip as she gazed down worriedly at the indentation on the pillow. “I’m not leaving you again,” Rachel whispered as her eyes softened immensely, “I promise.” She moved to open the curtains that were closed over the small window in the room. The space was lit up by the bright white of the snow outside the house. Rachel checked her cell phone for any missed calls before sitting down next to the side of the bed that Quinn was lying on. She leaned her head back against the nightstand and set her hand on the bed, just so Quinn knew she was there. In a matter of hours, Rachel fell asleep, not moving an inch.
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Quinn opened her eyes for the first time in she didn’t know how long. She had the strength to lift her eyelids, she thought, so that was a plus. Why was it so bright? Why was her hand tingling and why did she feel - “Rachel,” Quinn whispered as memories of everything flooded back to her. Memories of Rachel being carried out of her house, the hospital, meeting Rachel’s dads, the fight, and…Rachel seeing her. Everything rushed back to Quinn and she let out a groan at the sensory overload. “Rachel,” the ghost repeated as she took in a shaky breath, “I have to get to Rachel.” How long had she been asleep? …Had she been asleep? Quinn’s thoughts were interrupted as the nagging in the back of her mind got louder. Why was her hand tingling? After a few seconds of preparation, Quinn found the strength to roll her head to the right. She let out a quiet gasp and managed to roll her entire body over so that she was now on her stomach with her face six inches from Rachel’s. “Hello, Quinn,” Rachel whispered, very much awake, and Quinn’s breath was taken away at seeing the girl’s face again. The way Rachel’s expression seemed so broken, but so tender and caring. With the way the girl’s eyes were red and puffy in a way that showed she’d been crying for days on end, maybe weeks. But above all, the way Rachel’s hair was pulled back into a messy bun with the layered strands falling down to frame her face perfectly. The brunette quietly interrupted Quinn’s thoughts with an uncharacteristically small voice, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Quinn.”
Quinn’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched as she let out a quiet laugh and dropped her chin onto the bed. “I think I have,” she admitted, “because you are definitely not the same Rachel that I left…” she trailed off, tracing Rachel’s eyes as she waited for the girl to finish her sentence.
“Two weeks ago,” Rachel supplied, softly, her voice even quieter than before, “Today was the first day that I could feel your presence enough to know that…” she trailed off, and Quinn saw the lump in her throat.
“You thought that I had passed on,” the blond said, dropping her gaze down to where Rachel’s hand was laying in hers.
“I didn’t know what to think,” Rachel said, shrugging slightly as she stayed with her back against the nightstand, as if it was the only thing keeping her upright.
“Have you been out looking for me…?” Quinn asked as she shifted her weight until she had her head propped up on her arms folded in front of her.
Her hazel eyes watched Rachel’s cloud over with guilt. “No,” Rachel whispered in a broken sob, “I came here twice, once right after you disappeared and then again a week later. I couldn’t…feel your presence, at all. I didn’t know where else to look and I didn’t even know where else to begin looking so I just…stayed in my bed,” Rachel finished with a small shrug.
Quinn watched Rachel, just watched her, for a few moments as she took note of all of the emotions that trailed across her eyes. However, as soon as Rachel’s eyes moved back to Quinn’s and Quinn saw the quiet desperation in them, she spoke up again and reassured her with a quiet, “You did more than anyone else would have done, Rachel. You came back for me.”
Rachel’s exhausted eyes brimmed with tears as she nodded and stared into Quinn’s eyes. “What happened to you?” the brunette questioned.
Quinn sighed as she managed to roll herself onto her back on the other side of the bed. She noiselessly patted the side of the bed that she had previously occupied and told Rachel, “Come up here.”
Without hesitation Rachel moved to her knees and pulled herself onto the bed next to Quinn. Quinn watched her rest her head in the indentation previously left by herself and turn so she was on her left side, staring at Quinn. The ghost smiled to herself as Rachel’s eyes bore straight into hers; how the girl did that, Quinn would never know.
“Go on,” Rachel urged.
Quinn sucked in a breath and shook her head. “I don’t know what happened to me,” Quinn answered honestly, “One minute I was standing in your kitchen, the next I was disappearing again. Only, I didn’t just disappear visually. Apparently becoming an actual apparition drained every source of energy that I had. I was basically blacked out and on autopilot because I somehow managed to blink myself into my bed before the entire world went dark. I was sort of…” Quinn paused, trying to find the right words, “almost stuck in a sort of limbo. I was aware of my own senses, my own being, but I couldn’t open my eyes and I didn’t have the energy to really exist at all. Then I heard your voice and…”
Rachel furrowed her brows in confusion. “You heard my voice?” she asked.
Quinn nodded then continued, “Yes, I heard your voice. You said my name, and then you said you were here now. I felt peaceful enough to finally let myself slip into a state of sleep.” Quinn brought her eyes up to Rachel and adopted a confused expression. “Why do you look so confused, Rachel?” she asked.
“Because I said that to you a matter of hours ago, Quinn,” Rachel stated, “meaning you forced yourself to stay awake and in a state of limbo for two weeks.”
Quinn stared wide-eyed at Rachel before letting out a single laugh and mumbling, “No wonder it felt like an eternity. And I only felt peaceful enough to sleep-”
“When you knew I was here,” Rachel finished before adding, “you must not have actually existed before then, since I couldn’t feel your presence before today. You must be slowly regaining your energy.”
Quinn was still stuck on the fact that Rachel had been what had allowed Quinn to finally be at peace. This was an interesting discovery. “This is fascinating,” Quinn heard from Rachel, interrupting her thoughts.
“What is, exactly?” she asked as she focused on Rachel again.
“Everything about this, about you,” the brunette clarified, “by all accounts and purposes you should have very well passed on.” Quinn stiffened. Rachel continued, “Do you ever wonder what’s keeping you here, Quinn…?”
“I used to,” the blond bit out through clenched teeth, hating speaking on this subject, “I used to think it was just because I was so adamant about not passing on. Now I think I have a hunch about what’s keeping me here,” Quinn said, trailing off as her eyes roamed from Rachel’s tennis shoes all the way back up to the girl’s eyes. As Rachel opened her mouth to undoubtedly ask Quinn what she meant, Quinn cut her off. “I’m really tired again, Rachel,” the ghost said, not feeling all that bad because it was true, “I think I need to sleep some more.”
Rachel nodded in understanding. “I completely agree. You sleep, Quinn, I’ll be here,” she said, nodding to solidify her point.
Quinn rolled over so that she was on her stomach again and kept her eyes on Rachel for a few more minutes. She ended up falling asleep to the rhythm of Rachel’s chest rising and falling next to her.
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Rachel’s eyes shot open a few hours later. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep but the sounds of Quinn’s rhythmic breathing, telling her the girl was asleep, had lured Rachel into her own state of drowsiness. She immediately rolled over, momentarily ignoring the heaviness that she felt across her waist, as she turned to where she imagined Quinn’s head was. “Quinn,” Rachel whispered urgently, “are you awake?”
Rachel felt the air move in front of her face briefly and smiled, imagining that Quinn had just swatted her away with her hand in her sleep. “Come on, Quinn, just wake up for a moment! This is most urgent!”
The brunette waited until she heard a frustrated groan, followed by a mumbled, “What, Berry?”
Rachel pushed herself up onto her elbows and wildly gestured towards the pillow she had just vacated while excitedly saying, “There was an indentation on this pillow, Quinn!”
There was a moment of silence as Rachel assumed Quinn looked from the pillow back up to Rachel before slowly stating, “Yes, Rachel, that tends to happen when you put your head on pillows. You seriously woke me up to tell me this? I need to rest before I-”
“You do,” Rachel agreed quickly, interrupting her, “but Quinn, I mean when I found you earlier, you had left an indentation on the pillow. I could see you because I saw the indentation!”
The room felt heavy as a thick silence descended. The only sound that could be heard was a jagged combination of Quinn’s steady breathing mingled with the harsh wind hitting against the house. Rachel waited patiently, still propped up on her elbows, as she let Quinn process this information. But what did it mean? Was Quinn becoming a stronger type of ghost? Or was something else entirely happening?
The brunette was focused on the wall behind where she assumed Quinn’s head was, thinking critically about what books she had to skim when she got home to see what this new installment meant, when she felt the material of her T-shirt twist in on itself. No, that was wrong. Her shirt was being fisted in someone’s hand. “Quinn, please tell me that’s -”
“Quiet,” Rachel heard Quinn whisper from only a breath away, “I need to concentrate.” Rachel stayed frozen as her eyes watched the cotton of her shirt bunch in an invisible fist. Her brown eyes snapped down to check - Ah, yes. Now Rachel could see a dip in the bed where Quinn’s body lied.
“What’s going on?” she found herself asking the ghost as Rachel felt a small tug, pulling her towards the dip in the bed.
“I don’t know,” Quinn whispered in return, “but I’m afraid to take my eyes off of my hand because it might break the spell.” Rachel could only nod dumbly in silent agreement. There was a shift in the bed - Rachel gasped as she felt the bed move as Quinn scooted closer to the brunette - and suddenly Rachel’s right ear was on fire with pins and needles as she heard a whispered, “This is real, right? I’m not asleep or hallucinating, am I?”
Rachel shook her head, her jaw unhinged in shock, as her mouth moved wordlessly. Her dark eyes traveled back down to her balled up shirt where Rachel could feel Quinn’s knuckles pressed against her ribcage. For once, Rachel Berry was struck speechless.
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Quinn was transfixed on her own hand. The way her fingers were fisted in the fabric of Rachel’s shirt, the way she could almost feel the cotton under her fingers. It was as if the feeling was right there, on the tip of her fingers, just barely out of reach but close enough to see. Most importantly to Quinn though was not the feeling of the cotton so much as the actual feeling of Rachel breathing. That she could feel in the way her hand rose and fell as the brunette’s heart rate sped up.
“I’m so scared that if I let go-” Quinn said, breaking off as her voice cracked, not raising her voice, not wanting to change a thing. She didn’t understand her sudden sense of being an almost physical being, but she didn’t want to question it. Quinn didn’t know how long it would last, or if it even would at all, so she intended to take full advantage of it. The ghost reluctantly let go of Rachel’s shirt and stared up into chocolate eyes from flat on her back. “Hold your hand up,” Quinn commanded.
Rachel stared back at her in confusion. “Why did you let go?” she questioned, almost panicked, “Did you let go because you chose to or-”
“Hold your hand up, Rachel,” Quinn repeated, eerily calm like. After a slight hesitation, Rachel obeyed and raised her hand so that her palm was facing Quinn and just put the rest of her weight on her other arm.
Slowly, painfully so, Quinn lifted her own hand and brought her palm up to press against Rachel’s. The blond hesitated when her hand was just about to make contact. Quinn kept visualizing her hand simply passing through Rachel’s, as it did with everything else unless she made herself rest it on an object before passing through it. Quinn could create the illusion for herself easily enough, but that had never erased the fact that she would pass ultimately through anything she touched.
Rachel seemed to sense Quinn’s fear and Quinn noticed that stilled Rachel’s own trepidation, as the brunette spoke low, “It’s all right, Quinn. Don’t be afraid. Touch me.” The last part of Rachel’s sentence came out barely louder than a breath of air, but Quinn heard her loud and clear.
The ghost squeezed her eyes shut tightly and pushed her hand forward, closing the fleeting gap and meeting resistance. Her hand met resistance. Quinn sucked in a ragged breath. Her hand met resistance. She gradually opened her eyes and noticed Rachel doing the same, only Rachel had tears in her eyes and Quinn momentarily wondered if she did as well.
In between Quinn and Rachel’s bodies, their hands hovered in the air, pressed tightly against each other. Both girls stared in fascination, and some time later, renegade tears left trails down Rachel’s cheeks to her lips as they tugged into a smile. Rachel laced her fingers with Quinn’s and clasped tighter.
It was in that moment that Quinn was overcome with emotions. Not new emotions, not any emotion particularly stronger than any other one that she felt around Rachel normally, but emotions that made her chest burn as calescent as it did on the day that she had died. And then suddenly Quinn had surged forward and pressed her lips to Rachel’s. Something erupted in the back of Quinn’s mind when their lips made contact and her senses seemed to explode. She could taste the vanilla chapstick that Rachel had on her lips, she could feel Rachel’s bottom lip between her own two, she could hear Rachel gasp the second of impact, and Quinn felt exactly when Rachel started kissing her back less than a second later.
Quinn felt two small hands fist into the front of her shirt to pull her up roughly into Rachel as the brunette deepened the kiss. The ghost tangled a hand in long chestnut locks as she pushed Rachel onto her back and allowed her to pull Quinn on top of her. They kissed frantically and without hesitation; Rachel not daring to pull away for air and Quinn not needing to.
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Rachel relished the feeling of Quinn’s shirt in her hands and the weight of the blond on top of her. Her body and mind were not connected in that moment, and for that Rachel was grateful because she didn’t want to question anything, she just wanted to feel it. Rachel just wanted to close her eyes and picture Quinn kissing her, the way the girl’s piercing hazel eyes were closed and the way her pink lips were moving against her own in perfect synchronization.
The girls were graced with three more seconds before Rachel no longer felt the comforting weight of Quinn on top of her. In the blink of an eye, Rachel’s entire body ignited in agony as pins and needles exploded everywhere in her. Quinn had returned to her previous state and had fallen through, and into, the brunette.
Rachel cried out a broken sob in anguish as the agonizing pain left her body meaning Quinn had quickly rolled out of Rachel as soon as she realized what had happened. Quinn had been ripped away from her again, only she didn’t think she could handle it this time. The brunette stayed on her back as her face crumbled and her entire body was wracked with sobs. She felt a soothing tingling against her cheek as Quinn desperately whispered, “Please stop crying, Rachel…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Rachel’s shaking hands clutched at the fabric of her T-shirt over her heart as she tried to speak through her tears and failed horribly. She felt the familiar tingling sensation along her left side and a train of pins and needles across her waist. “I’m so sorry,” Quinn repeated continuously into Rachel’s ear, sounding utterly devastated, and Rachel suddenly realized that Quinn sounded faded. Rachel briefly wondered how much energy it had taken Quinn to do all of that.
“Quiet,” Rachel whispered, her voice raw and scratchy from sobbing, “just go to sleep now, Quinn. Rest.”
The brunette decided to take her own advice as her tears subsided and her eyelids started drooping on their own accord. Some time later, Rachel faintly heard another “I’m sorry” before she thought she felt the ghost of a kiss on her cheek. She was asleep seconds later.
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When Quinn woke up Rachel was gone. Quinn sat up and ran her hands through her hair, wincing at the tug of knots she felt. Probably from Rachel’s hands. Quinn paused. She stared straight across the room in utter shock before everything finally sunk in. She had been a physical presence, and she had basically felt and tasted things for the first time in ten years. Quinn had almost been real. And she had kissed Rachel. And Rachel had kissed her back.
And it was as if it had never happened. Except that it did. It did and then Quinn fell through Rachel and now Rachel was gone. And Quinn had kissed Rachel.
As if a mask had been lifted, Quinn’s exterior physically defected and her chest heaved once before her entire body broke down. Quinn felt the ghosts of her tears flood her face and seemingly drown her as she fought to not choke on her sobs.
“Why?” Quinn screamed at the ceiling. She was exhausted, granted, from everything that she had been able to do. Yet she mustered up the energy to tilt her head back and roam her eyes over the painted ceiling, screaming, “Why?” over and over.
Why did you give me her just to take her away again? Why did you give her to me at all? What is the point in this, God? What are you pulling? Where is this leading me to?” Quinn screamed in rapid succession before falling forward face-first onto the bed. She mentally cursed the idiotic “ghost laws” and whoever put them in place for the fact that she couldn’t fall through a floor or a bed but she would, without a doubt, never be able to hold someone’s hand again. Not like she had with Rachel.
With her face pressed into the sheets that should have been soaked with her tears, Quinn stared blankly at the wall across the room from her. Her eyes glazed over and she stared through the dozens of pictures of herself, and she thought. She laid like that for hours and thought. It was clear to her then that she harbored feelings for Rachel, intense ones that she never intended to have. But they were there, and Quinn didn’t want to deny them. She thought about why God sent Rachel into Quinn’s life when He knew she would fall in love with her.
After hours of going through Bible verses and remembering what her parents had made her sit through in church, Quinn came to a solid conclusion, in her opinion. She was going to Hell. Quinn was doomed to be sent down to spend eternity in Hell, and this was it. Her ten years of being a ghost had clearly been a type of limbo, and then God sent Rachel into her life to send her to Hell.
New tears filled Quinn’s eyes as she figured out that she was probably in the first stage of Hell; the first circle or something similar. She didn’t know. All Quinn knew was that was the only conclusion that made sense. This had to be Hell, or love. Right? She thought back to her parent’s marriage and wondered if there was really any difference at all.
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A good matter of hours later, Quinn sat up on ran a hand through her hair to push her fallen bangs out of her eyes. The sun was beginning to peer over the sill of her window and she guesstimated that it was about six or seven a.m. The ghost saw no point in getting out of bed when there was nothing to get out of bed for; Rachel was gone, and probably hated her for that matter, she had been both visible and tangible in the span of two weeks and then had them both ripped from her, what was the point anymore?
Despite all of that, however, Quinn got up. She may have had everything torn from her and been reduced to less than nothing, but Quinn Fabray was not a quitter. Not wanting to feel more like a ghost than she already did, Quinn trudged out of her room as opposed to blinking herself downstairs. Quinn paused on the last step of the stairs, her forehead creasing in confusion, when she heard the TV playing softly in the living room and felt Rachel’s presence.
Quinn stayed rooted in place as she wondered both why Rachel was still there and if it was worth it to make her presence known to the girl. Were they even okay? How did Quinn even want Rachel to react? How would she react if the roles had been reversed? Quinn’s eyes widened a little when she suddenly realized that if she could feel Rachel’s presence that Rachel could probably feel -
“Quinn?” Rachel called out to her from the living room. Crap.
“Yeah, Rachel,” Quinn called back from her same spot, “It’s me.”
There was a moment of silence before a bland, “I figured as much,” was shot back to her, “That was more of a subtly open-ended question as to why you’ve been standing in the same spot for the past fifteen minutes.”
Quinn’s eyebrows shot up in slight awe. Had it really been that long? Wonder, Quinn, because that’s not obvious.
“Oh,” Quinn heard come out quietly from the other room, drawing her attention back to the wall in between the girls, “did you wish to avoid me, Quinn? If so, I can go sit in another room. However, I’m not leaving, I apologize. I promised you I wouldn’t leave you again, so that’s that, I suppose.”
Quinn turned her head slightly as her eyelids fluttered shut and a small smirk played on her lips. She steeled her shoulders and made her way into the living room before taking a seat on the chair kitty-cornered to the couch that Rachel was laying down on. Quinn smiled faintly as she silently noted the fact that when Quinn sprawled out on the couch, her feet dangled over the edge; however, when Rachel laid on the couch, her feet barely reached the edge.
Quinn’s smile faltered briefly when her eyes caught a minor detail that she wasn’t sure how she missed before. “Have you been wearing those this whole time?” she inquired with a steady voice as she kept her gaze on the sweatpants that Rachel was wearing.
The brunette slowly turned away from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest on the small screen to meet Quinn’s eyes (as always) before having the decency to have a mild blush staining her cheeks. “Uhm, yes, I believe that I have. You see,” Rachel began as she misinterpreted Quinn’s silence for anger, “the second time I came here looking for you I happened to stumble upon your drawer of old clothes from what I’m assuming was your last year of high school so, your current age, and I just…” she trailed off.
Quinn cocked her head to the side and quizzically watched Rachel as McMurphy seemed to narrate the scene from inside of the TV as he demanded, “Which one of you nuts has got any guts?”
The blond watched a tiny smile tug at Rachel’s lips and she knew the irony of the quote was not lost on the brunette. “I just needed to feel close to you,” Rachel said after a moment of hesitation, “I needed to feel safe and like I actually had something to anchor my sanity to earth, because I was sure that I was losing my mind.”
“Are you mad at me?” Rachel abruptly asked which caused Quinn to tear herself out of her thoughts and wipe the goofy grin off of her face that had somehow wormed it’s way there after hearing what Rachel said.
“I’m not mad at you,” Quinn said quietly but sternly, “Why would you think that I was mad at you? If anything you should be mad at me, Rachel.”
“For kissing me?” Quinn watched Rachel ask and not knowing what to make of the amusement that was woven into the question, “No, I’m not mad at you for that. Usually people are mad at themselves for kissing me, not the other way around.”
Quinn’s expression tightened and her brows knit together as she kept an unblinking fixed stare on Rachel. The brunette bit her lip and flicked her gaze to the left as she shrugged her shoulders and mumbled, “It was only a kiss, anyway, a spur of the moment incident brought on by a state of euphoria, on both of our parts, at you being solid for the short time that you were.” Liar.
Quinn’s first reaction to get mad and go into defense mode, but she had the luxury of not being seen, and that gave her the chance to get a hold of her emotions and better observe Rachel’s true motives before reacting inappropriately. Quinn knew that Rachel was lying and she thought she knew why.
“Well, it may have been that for you, but for me it wasn’t just a kiss brought on by me being solid or tangible,” Quinn admitted as she kept her gaze on Rachel.
Tears immediately sprang up in Rachel’s eyes and Quinn saw a certain sense of relief pass over the girl's features as she repeated the same thought that she’d had weeks prior. “Falling for a ghost was not on my to-do list.”
“Since when does Rachel Berry deviate from her to-do list then, right?” Quinn asked lightheartedly and with a smile.
“Since four months ago when a ghost interrupted my post-glee self-motivational cheer up session in the restroom by slamming a stall door into my face,” Rachel retorted, not missing a beat.
Quinn’s shoulders rose in laughter as her gaze turned far-away. “I miss the days when I used to prank people,” she admitted after a moment as she got sidetracked in her own thoughts.
“Why did you stop?” Rachel asked.
Quinn stayed in thought before sighing. She wanted to keep this from Rachel but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. Whatever. Rachel wouldn’t think she had gone soft just because of what she was about to tell her. “Remember the day that I saw you get slushied? You know, right in front of me.”
Rachel slowly nodded, “Of course.”
“Well, I realized then that most people at that school are already getting enough hell from the pathetic excuse for Cheerios that are there now, and if not them, then from the pathetic excuse for jocks that are there now. They don’t need a ghost pranking them on top of all of that,” Quinn stated.
For a moment Quinn thought that she had said something wrong, because Rachel just stared up at her with wide eyes before shifting and sitting upright on the couch.
“Come with me to the school tomorrow,” the little brunette demanded.
Quinn paused, taken back and a little frustrated that Rachel had managed to steer the conversation away from the kiss, before asking, “Why should I do that? Besides, it’s locked now. Winter break, remember?”
Despite her frustration, Quinn smirked at the pout that Rachel immediately took on, almost bodily, at being denied. “I have a way in, Quinn. Besides, I wasn’t aware that I was giving you a choice in the matter. It’s completely necessary that you be in the school auditorium tomorrow at noon sharp,” Rachel proclaimed with her chin held high. Quinn’s eyebrow arched up as she stared the girl down. Rachel rolled her eyes and let out a resigned sigh after a moment of silence, adding, “Please.”
“Fine,” said Quinn, “but this doesn’t mean that we’re done talking about-”
The blond let out a hiss of breath between her gritted teeth when she was cut off by Rachel’s cell phone going off. As the instrumental version of Defying Gravity rang through the house, Quinn was almost thankful that she couldn’t physically touch anything anymore because she would have thrown Berry’s phone out of a window. They needed to talk, and it didn't look like that was going to happen.
For her part, Rachel smiled sheepishly at Quinn before answering, “Hello? Oh, hello daddy. Yes, I’m at Quinn’s,” Rachel said very matter-of-fact before listening for a few more moments in which Quinn’s eyebrow began to twitch, “You’re right, and I apologize, I should have told you that I was leaving. However, I’m appalled that it took you this long to realize that. Of course, daddy. Thank you, I do sound better, but that’s because I found her. Yes, she’s all right. Okay, daddy, be home soon.”
Quinn watched Rachel pull the phone away from her ear and snap it closed. “Do not tell me that you have to go,” Quinn said dryly, "I thought you promised that you wouldn't leave."
Rachel looked down as she pursed her lips. “Unfortunately Quinn, I do have to return home. If I had any doubt whatsoever that you would not be in my room tonight anyway, I would not be leaving, but I know you. Anyway, we will just have to continue this conversation tomorrow, at the auditorium! All major events happen there, you know.” With that, Quinn stayed seated as Rachel quickly got up and made her way to the door.
“You know I could haunt you for the rest of the night until we talk about this, right? Since I'll be at your house anyway," Quinn added with a roll of her eyes because damnet it was true, "I could be the biggest pain in the ass you’ve ever met, Rachel,” Quinn called after the brunette.
“While I’m aware that the squeaky wheel gets the grease, Quinn,” Rachel shouted back as she opened the front door, “I’m afraid no wheel squeaks louder than myself. I would surely out-annoy you because it seems to be a hidden talent. Besides, you and I both know that you need to stay here and continue sleeping and resting. You’ve been through very traumatic things in a very short time frame, so please just rest your mind and spirit. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow. Be prepared to do nothing but sleep when you get to my residence, that is of course, if you do come. I suppose I might be wrong about that but I highly doubt it. So, until tonight, Quinn.”
Quinn rolled her eyes when she heard the front door click, signaling Rachel’s departure after her long-winded rant.
“Wonderful, of course, because you haven’t been through traumatic things recently either. Rachel Berry, you aren’t as stone cold and unaffected as you’d like to make me think. God that girl is good at putting up her damn walls! Oh, I’ll get you to talk, Berry,” Quinn said mischievously to herself, “one way or another.”
The blond perked up suddenly when she sensed something near. Quinn tensed as she felt the Ombra in the distance. What the hell were they doing? However, just as she was about to panic, her mind’s eye told her that they were going in the opposite direction of her. Letting out a relieved sigh, Quinn moved from the chair to the couch that Rachel had previously been laying on. The ghost stretched out and laughed through her nose as her feet ended up dangling off of the edge.
The last thought on Quinn’s mind before she fell asleep was about Hell, and how if this was it, if Rachel was Hell, maybe Quinn could risk walking through some flames for her. It's not like she hadn't walked through flames before, anyway.
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Rachel opted to walk home instead of running, like she had to Quinn’s house the day before, as she thought back on everything. She tried to let the freezing air numb her mind to the point of no thought processes being capable, but as predicted, that failed. No matter how hard she tried, Rachel could not stop thinking about the feel of Quinn’s shirt twisted in her hands or how soft the girl’s hair had been. Quinn had kissed her and, not only that, but Rachel had kissed back and it had been perfect. She couldn’t describe it, but something inside of Rachel kept screaming at her to notice just how natural it had felt to kiss Quinn. She certainly had a lot of thinking to do that night, and she had to come to a decision before the auditorium meeting that she had set up.
Did she love Quinn? Could she love Quinn? The girl was a ghost, for crying out loud! Her chestnut hair whipped around her shoulders as she shook her head. No, Quinn was a human. A girl, okay, Rachel could deal with that; she was raised to believe that love was love, regardless. The only thing getting in her way was the ghost part, and she wasn’t quite sure that she could deal with that one. Oh, that was not the proper setting for her to be thinking on matters of the heart like that! She was too upset, too angry at herself for putting up walls and shutting Quinn out. That had been unfair of her, necessary, but unfair.
As the brunette made her way to her house on the quiet street, she watched as the sun started to raise higher in the sky. Mere hours ago she had been a sobbing mess, and now here she was, still a mess, but a mess with a plan. Rachel Berry would never be caught dead without a plan. While Quinn slept, Rachel thought of a plan. A brilliant one that she needed to PowerPoint as soon as she returned home.
As she started up her driveway a few minutes later, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she was being watched. Rachel shook it off and chalked it up to nerves and lack of sleep as she made her way through her front door, fully intending to berate her fathers on the notion that they were so neglectful as to not realize that she had been gone an entire day.
Chapter: Six
Author: lifeawakening
Words: 7,483
Rating: R (For future scary images, language, and sexual references)
Summary: Rachel Berry always knew that she was a little bit psychic. In fact, Rachel Berry thought she knew just about everything. That is, until a spirit that refused to die entered her life like a train-wreck. It's only after Rachel's fallen in love that she realizes life doesn't exactly go as planned; and neither does death, for that matter.
Author's Note: I just wanted to apologize to everyone for taking so long to get this damn chapter up. I had a lot of things go on in my life that prevented me from being able to write, and I was going through a hard time. However, I've managed to channel some of that energy and find a way to write again. I will never have a hiatus that long again. I hope you all can forgive me, and I hope that this chapter more than makes up for it. Also, I'll go back to regularly posting every other Friday, I just wanted to get this to you guys as soon as possible because you've waited long enough.
For a week after Quinn disappeared, Rachel discovered that blasting music to try to drown out the silence in her mind, failed. After two weeks, the brunette started considering the words “alive” and “dead” to be curse words; and consequentially reprimanded everyone and anyone who used them.
Rachel woke up that Wednesday morning, the exact morning that marked exactly two weeks sans Quinn, and groaned. There was a soft knock on the door that Rachel barely turned her head towards before asking, “Yes?”
Leroy poked his head in, and smiled at Rachel softly, “There’s ten minutes until you’ve officially overslept by three hours, Rachel. Would you like to stay in bed again, today? Your father and I decided, after hearing your fifth embellished groan from downstairs, that you might need another day off. We realize you’re still upset and are completely willing to console you during your time of loss. But, you really need to at least shower today. Your father and I didn’t say anything about it to you yesterday,” the man said, staying at his spot behind the door, “but by now I’m sure you realize that bathing is a good option. We would appreciate it. Also, breakfast is on the table. While we understand the grieving process is emotionally daunting, we also think it’s a good idea for you to eat, as well.”
With that, Leroy nodded and shut the door. Rachel stared at the door before moving her head back to stare at the ceiling.
Okay, so maybe she was depressed, Rachel thought as she lied flat on her back, staring up and wincing against the beam of light streaming in through her blinds. She had reason to be depressed, though. Three glaring reasons, actually. The brunette stared a hole through her ceiling to the clouds outside as she thought of Quinn. Beautiful, damaged, young Quinn, her ghost. Her ghost. Two weeks is a long time.
“Two weeks is a long time,” Rachel repeated, voicing her thought. But Quinn wasn’t the only reason Rachel was depressed; albeit, she was the main reason.
There were the nightmares. Granted, Rachel always had the nightmare about the crash every couple of months, but these were different. For the past two weeks, either she’d have these new nightmares or she just wouldn’t dream at all. She chalked it up to missing Quinn, but something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. If Rachel didn’t know better, she would guess that these nightmares had something to do with the Ombra, and she didn’t know how to handle this on her own. She supposed that led her back to Quinn again, ironically enough. Everything seemed to lead Rachel back to Quinn now.
Except her so-called “friends”. They didn’t lead her back to missing Quinn, they hurled her back into missing Quinn. They were awful. All Rachel wanted to do was be able to spend some of the break keeping up with vocal exercises, but they still refused to see her. Finn would call a few times a day, but Rachel would ignore that call every time. Puck just flat out refused to even acknowledge that she was alive. Fine by her, Rachel would think, since she wouldn’t even acknowledge that she was alive anymore.
Quinn was gone. That thought passed through Rachel’s mind countless times a day, in an hour, in an instant. Quinn was gone. Had she passed on? Had she just decided to leave Rachel? Or had it been Rachel’s fault? Had Quinn been taken away because Rachel had seen her?
“No,” Rachel heard an almost unrecognizable voice answer her own thoughts, “It wasn’t your fault. She didn’t just leave. She wouldn’t have left voluntarily. Maybe she needs your help, did you ever stop to think of that? Maybe while you’ve been wallowing in your own personal hell, Quinn’s been waiting for you to come save her.”
Rachel stared holes through the ceiling for a few more moments before letting out a short laugh. “Get up,” the voice said again, “get up.” It took Rachel a moment before the realization dawned upon her; the voice was hers.
And so she got up. Slowly, Rachel lowered her feet to the floor and held her head up high for the first time in weeks. Granted, Rachel had gone to Quinn’s house twice after the incident; the first time was the day after, and she found nothing, while the second had been a week later and she again found nothing. Part of Rachel was terrified to go back now and find nothing, no sign of Quinn; but a larger part of her was more terrified of living another day inside her toxic mind. She slipped into a pair of tennis shoes and didn’t change out of her sweats as she walked out of her bedroom door, almost in a trance-like state.
Rachel paused at the bottom of the stairs and listened to her fathers talk about her over the breakfast table. The brunette, in a pair of faded McKinley sweatpants with the year 2000 printed on them and a plain white scoop-neck T-shirt, quickly made her way out of the front door unnoticed. Truthfully, she thought, her fathers probably wouldn’t notice her absence at all since she’d hardly been out of her room for the past two weeks anyway; the beauty of winter break.
The brunette silently cursed herself for running out of the house with neither a jacket nor car keys as she started jogging halfway down her driveway. All Rachel knew was that no amount of snow or bone-chilling Lima weather was going to stop her from getting to Quinn. She couldn’t give up, she couldn’t, and she could kick herself for almost doing just that.
As the wind whipped Rachel’s hair around her face and stung her eyes to the point of tearing up, she ran. She ran past her fellow gleek’s houses and didn’t spare them one look. She ran over cracks in the sidewalk and leapt over snow piles in the street. She ran past the cherry tree in Quinn’s front yard and she ran up the porch steps. Rachel paused, however, as her hand hovered over the doorknob. She used to know that she could just walk in and it would be fine, but what about now? Would it be locked? Would someone have broken in while Quinn wasn’t around to scare intruders off? Rachel’s hand shook, and she tried to still it, before she sucked in a breath and twisted her wrist in a quick motion, opening the door.
The second Rachel stepped into the threshold, she was in a panic. She had to find Quinn here this time, she had to. Quinn had to be here. There was no other explanation and no other option. Quinn was here, Rachel could feel it.
“Quinn?” Rachel called as she ran into the kitchen. Nothing. Rachel repeated her call as she ran across the hall and into the living room. Again, nothing. She would know the second she walked into the same room as Quinn because she would be ignited by that electrical current that only passed through her body when the ghost was around. Rachel tore apart the entire downstairs before hastily making her way up to the second floor.
The brunette ran a shaky hand through her hair as she stepped off of the last step and onto the hardwood floor. Her Nike’s made no noise as she slowly walked to the room that she had been standing in with Quinn right before all hell broke loose. Quinn’s room. Shrine. Whatever. Rachel paused in the doorway as she let her eyes carefully roam the room, taking in every detail, seeing if anything was out of place. Her breath caught when she found the one minute detail that was indeed out of place.
The indentation in the pillow on Quinn’s bed. That hadn’t been there two weeks ago. That hadn’t been there one week ago. Rachel’s eyebrows furrowed together and her face contorted in desperation as she stepped into the room, hoping to feel that jolt of electricity when she did so. And she did. “Oh, Quinn,” Rachel breathed out, almost silently, as she took long strides to the bed. “Quinn,” Rachel repeated, louder, as she prayed for a response.
Almost immediately, Rachel’s ears were greeted by the sound of a low groan from somewhere within Quinn’s chest, and Rachel felt like she could finally breathe again for the first time in two weeks.
Rachel dropped to her knees at the side of Quinn’s bed and brought her hands up to her chest, trying to still her heaving chest as she clearly stated, “Quinn, I’m here for you now.” The smile that painted itself on Rachel’s features was involuntary as she heard Quinn groan in appreciation, this time far less strangled.
The brunette stood up and bit her lip as she gazed down worriedly at the indentation on the pillow. “I’m not leaving you again,” Rachel whispered as her eyes softened immensely, “I promise.” She moved to open the curtains that were closed over the small window in the room. The space was lit up by the bright white of the snow outside the house. Rachel checked her cell phone for any missed calls before sitting down next to the side of the bed that Quinn was lying on. She leaned her head back against the nightstand and set her hand on the bed, just so Quinn knew she was there. In a matter of hours, Rachel fell asleep, not moving an inch.
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Quinn opened her eyes for the first time in she didn’t know how long. She had the strength to lift her eyelids, she thought, so that was a plus. Why was it so bright? Why was her hand tingling and why did she feel - “Rachel,” Quinn whispered as memories of everything flooded back to her. Memories of Rachel being carried out of her house, the hospital, meeting Rachel’s dads, the fight, and…Rachel seeing her. Everything rushed back to Quinn and she let out a groan at the sensory overload. “Rachel,” the ghost repeated as she took in a shaky breath, “I have to get to Rachel.” How long had she been asleep? …Had she been asleep? Quinn’s thoughts were interrupted as the nagging in the back of her mind got louder. Why was her hand tingling? After a few seconds of preparation, Quinn found the strength to roll her head to the right. She let out a quiet gasp and managed to roll her entire body over so that she was now on her stomach with her face six inches from Rachel’s. “Hello, Quinn,” Rachel whispered, very much awake, and Quinn’s breath was taken away at seeing the girl’s face again. The way Rachel’s expression seemed so broken, but so tender and caring. With the way the girl’s eyes were red and puffy in a way that showed she’d been crying for days on end, maybe weeks. But above all, the way Rachel’s hair was pulled back into a messy bun with the layered strands falling down to frame her face perfectly. The brunette quietly interrupted Quinn’s thoughts with an uncharacteristically small voice, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Quinn.”
Quinn’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched as she let out a quiet laugh and dropped her chin onto the bed. “I think I have,” she admitted, “because you are definitely not the same Rachel that I left…” she trailed off, tracing Rachel’s eyes as she waited for the girl to finish her sentence.
“Two weeks ago,” Rachel supplied, softly, her voice even quieter than before, “Today was the first day that I could feel your presence enough to know that…” she trailed off, and Quinn saw the lump in her throat.
“You thought that I had passed on,” the blond said, dropping her gaze down to where Rachel’s hand was laying in hers.
“I didn’t know what to think,” Rachel said, shrugging slightly as she stayed with her back against the nightstand, as if it was the only thing keeping her upright.
“Have you been out looking for me…?” Quinn asked as she shifted her weight until she had her head propped up on her arms folded in front of her.
Her hazel eyes watched Rachel’s cloud over with guilt. “No,” Rachel whispered in a broken sob, “I came here twice, once right after you disappeared and then again a week later. I couldn’t…feel your presence, at all. I didn’t know where else to look and I didn’t even know where else to begin looking so I just…stayed in my bed,” Rachel finished with a small shrug.
Quinn watched Rachel, just watched her, for a few moments as she took note of all of the emotions that trailed across her eyes. However, as soon as Rachel’s eyes moved back to Quinn’s and Quinn saw the quiet desperation in them, she spoke up again and reassured her with a quiet, “You did more than anyone else would have done, Rachel. You came back for me.”
Rachel’s exhausted eyes brimmed with tears as she nodded and stared into Quinn’s eyes. “What happened to you?” the brunette questioned.
Quinn sighed as she managed to roll herself onto her back on the other side of the bed. She noiselessly patted the side of the bed that she had previously occupied and told Rachel, “Come up here.”
Without hesitation Rachel moved to her knees and pulled herself onto the bed next to Quinn. Quinn watched her rest her head in the indentation previously left by herself and turn so she was on her left side, staring at Quinn. The ghost smiled to herself as Rachel’s eyes bore straight into hers; how the girl did that, Quinn would never know.
“Go on,” Rachel urged.
Quinn sucked in a breath and shook her head. “I don’t know what happened to me,” Quinn answered honestly, “One minute I was standing in your kitchen, the next I was disappearing again. Only, I didn’t just disappear visually. Apparently becoming an actual apparition drained every source of energy that I had. I was basically blacked out and on autopilot because I somehow managed to blink myself into my bed before the entire world went dark. I was sort of…” Quinn paused, trying to find the right words, “almost stuck in a sort of limbo. I was aware of my own senses, my own being, but I couldn’t open my eyes and I didn’t have the energy to really exist at all. Then I heard your voice and…”
Rachel furrowed her brows in confusion. “You heard my voice?” she asked.
Quinn nodded then continued, “Yes, I heard your voice. You said my name, and then you said you were here now. I felt peaceful enough to finally let myself slip into a state of sleep.” Quinn brought her eyes up to Rachel and adopted a confused expression. “Why do you look so confused, Rachel?” she asked.
“Because I said that to you a matter of hours ago, Quinn,” Rachel stated, “meaning you forced yourself to stay awake and in a state of limbo for two weeks.”
Quinn stared wide-eyed at Rachel before letting out a single laugh and mumbling, “No wonder it felt like an eternity. And I only felt peaceful enough to sleep-”
“When you knew I was here,” Rachel finished before adding, “you must not have actually existed before then, since I couldn’t feel your presence before today. You must be slowly regaining your energy.”
Quinn was still stuck on the fact that Rachel had been what had allowed Quinn to finally be at peace. This was an interesting discovery. “This is fascinating,” Quinn heard from Rachel, interrupting her thoughts.
“What is, exactly?” she asked as she focused on Rachel again.
“Everything about this, about you,” the brunette clarified, “by all accounts and purposes you should have very well passed on.” Quinn stiffened. Rachel continued, “Do you ever wonder what’s keeping you here, Quinn…?”
“I used to,” the blond bit out through clenched teeth, hating speaking on this subject, “I used to think it was just because I was so adamant about not passing on. Now I think I have a hunch about what’s keeping me here,” Quinn said, trailing off as her eyes roamed from Rachel’s tennis shoes all the way back up to the girl’s eyes. As Rachel opened her mouth to undoubtedly ask Quinn what she meant, Quinn cut her off. “I’m really tired again, Rachel,” the ghost said, not feeling all that bad because it was true, “I think I need to sleep some more.”
Rachel nodded in understanding. “I completely agree. You sleep, Quinn, I’ll be here,” she said, nodding to solidify her point.
Quinn rolled over so that she was on her stomach again and kept her eyes on Rachel for a few more minutes. She ended up falling asleep to the rhythm of Rachel’s chest rising and falling next to her.
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Rachel’s eyes shot open a few hours later. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep but the sounds of Quinn’s rhythmic breathing, telling her the girl was asleep, had lured Rachel into her own state of drowsiness. She immediately rolled over, momentarily ignoring the heaviness that she felt across her waist, as she turned to where she imagined Quinn’s head was. “Quinn,” Rachel whispered urgently, “are you awake?”
Rachel felt the air move in front of her face briefly and smiled, imagining that Quinn had just swatted her away with her hand in her sleep. “Come on, Quinn, just wake up for a moment! This is most urgent!”
The brunette waited until she heard a frustrated groan, followed by a mumbled, “What, Berry?”
Rachel pushed herself up onto her elbows and wildly gestured towards the pillow she had just vacated while excitedly saying, “There was an indentation on this pillow, Quinn!”
There was a moment of silence as Rachel assumed Quinn looked from the pillow back up to Rachel before slowly stating, “Yes, Rachel, that tends to happen when you put your head on pillows. You seriously woke me up to tell me this? I need to rest before I-”
“You do,” Rachel agreed quickly, interrupting her, “but Quinn, I mean when I found you earlier, you had left an indentation on the pillow. I could see you because I saw the indentation!”
The room felt heavy as a thick silence descended. The only sound that could be heard was a jagged combination of Quinn’s steady breathing mingled with the harsh wind hitting against the house. Rachel waited patiently, still propped up on her elbows, as she let Quinn process this information. But what did it mean? Was Quinn becoming a stronger type of ghost? Or was something else entirely happening?
The brunette was focused on the wall behind where she assumed Quinn’s head was, thinking critically about what books she had to skim when she got home to see what this new installment meant, when she felt the material of her T-shirt twist in on itself. No, that was wrong. Her shirt was being fisted in someone’s hand. “Quinn, please tell me that’s -”
“Quiet,” Rachel heard Quinn whisper from only a breath away, “I need to concentrate.” Rachel stayed frozen as her eyes watched the cotton of her shirt bunch in an invisible fist. Her brown eyes snapped down to check - Ah, yes. Now Rachel could see a dip in the bed where Quinn’s body lied.
“What’s going on?” she found herself asking the ghost as Rachel felt a small tug, pulling her towards the dip in the bed.
“I don’t know,” Quinn whispered in return, “but I’m afraid to take my eyes off of my hand because it might break the spell.” Rachel could only nod dumbly in silent agreement. There was a shift in the bed - Rachel gasped as she felt the bed move as Quinn scooted closer to the brunette - and suddenly Rachel’s right ear was on fire with pins and needles as she heard a whispered, “This is real, right? I’m not asleep or hallucinating, am I?”
Rachel shook her head, her jaw unhinged in shock, as her mouth moved wordlessly. Her dark eyes traveled back down to her balled up shirt where Rachel could feel Quinn’s knuckles pressed against her ribcage. For once, Rachel Berry was struck speechless.
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Quinn was transfixed on her own hand. The way her fingers were fisted in the fabric of Rachel’s shirt, the way she could almost feel the cotton under her fingers. It was as if the feeling was right there, on the tip of her fingers, just barely out of reach but close enough to see. Most importantly to Quinn though was not the feeling of the cotton so much as the actual feeling of Rachel breathing. That she could feel in the way her hand rose and fell as the brunette’s heart rate sped up.
“I’m so scared that if I let go-” Quinn said, breaking off as her voice cracked, not raising her voice, not wanting to change a thing. She didn’t understand her sudden sense of being an almost physical being, but she didn’t want to question it. Quinn didn’t know how long it would last, or if it even would at all, so she intended to take full advantage of it. The ghost reluctantly let go of Rachel’s shirt and stared up into chocolate eyes from flat on her back. “Hold your hand up,” Quinn commanded.
Rachel stared back at her in confusion. “Why did you let go?” she questioned, almost panicked, “Did you let go because you chose to or-”
“Hold your hand up, Rachel,” Quinn repeated, eerily calm like. After a slight hesitation, Rachel obeyed and raised her hand so that her palm was facing Quinn and just put the rest of her weight on her other arm.
Slowly, painfully so, Quinn lifted her own hand and brought her palm up to press against Rachel’s. The blond hesitated when her hand was just about to make contact. Quinn kept visualizing her hand simply passing through Rachel’s, as it did with everything else unless she made herself rest it on an object before passing through it. Quinn could create the illusion for herself easily enough, but that had never erased the fact that she would pass ultimately through anything she touched.
Rachel seemed to sense Quinn’s fear and Quinn noticed that stilled Rachel’s own trepidation, as the brunette spoke low, “It’s all right, Quinn. Don’t be afraid. Touch me.” The last part of Rachel’s sentence came out barely louder than a breath of air, but Quinn heard her loud and clear.
The ghost squeezed her eyes shut tightly and pushed her hand forward, closing the fleeting gap and meeting resistance. Her hand met resistance. Quinn sucked in a ragged breath. Her hand met resistance. She gradually opened her eyes and noticed Rachel doing the same, only Rachel had tears in her eyes and Quinn momentarily wondered if she did as well.
In between Quinn and Rachel’s bodies, their hands hovered in the air, pressed tightly against each other. Both girls stared in fascination, and some time later, renegade tears left trails down Rachel’s cheeks to her lips as they tugged into a smile. Rachel laced her fingers with Quinn’s and clasped tighter.
It was in that moment that Quinn was overcome with emotions. Not new emotions, not any emotion particularly stronger than any other one that she felt around Rachel normally, but emotions that made her chest burn as calescent as it did on the day that she had died. And then suddenly Quinn had surged forward and pressed her lips to Rachel’s. Something erupted in the back of Quinn’s mind when their lips made contact and her senses seemed to explode. She could taste the vanilla chapstick that Rachel had on her lips, she could feel Rachel’s bottom lip between her own two, she could hear Rachel gasp the second of impact, and Quinn felt exactly when Rachel started kissing her back less than a second later.
Quinn felt two small hands fist into the front of her shirt to pull her up roughly into Rachel as the brunette deepened the kiss. The ghost tangled a hand in long chestnut locks as she pushed Rachel onto her back and allowed her to pull Quinn on top of her. They kissed frantically and without hesitation; Rachel not daring to pull away for air and Quinn not needing to.
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Rachel relished the feeling of Quinn’s shirt in her hands and the weight of the blond on top of her. Her body and mind were not connected in that moment, and for that Rachel was grateful because she didn’t want to question anything, she just wanted to feel it. Rachel just wanted to close her eyes and picture Quinn kissing her, the way the girl’s piercing hazel eyes were closed and the way her pink lips were moving against her own in perfect synchronization.
The girls were graced with three more seconds before Rachel no longer felt the comforting weight of Quinn on top of her. In the blink of an eye, Rachel’s entire body ignited in agony as pins and needles exploded everywhere in her. Quinn had returned to her previous state and had fallen through, and into, the brunette.
Rachel cried out a broken sob in anguish as the agonizing pain left her body meaning Quinn had quickly rolled out of Rachel as soon as she realized what had happened. Quinn had been ripped away from her again, only she didn’t think she could handle it this time. The brunette stayed on her back as her face crumbled and her entire body was wracked with sobs. She felt a soothing tingling against her cheek as Quinn desperately whispered, “Please stop crying, Rachel…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Rachel’s shaking hands clutched at the fabric of her T-shirt over her heart as she tried to speak through her tears and failed horribly. She felt the familiar tingling sensation along her left side and a train of pins and needles across her waist. “I’m so sorry,” Quinn repeated continuously into Rachel’s ear, sounding utterly devastated, and Rachel suddenly realized that Quinn sounded faded. Rachel briefly wondered how much energy it had taken Quinn to do all of that.
“Quiet,” Rachel whispered, her voice raw and scratchy from sobbing, “just go to sleep now, Quinn. Rest.”
The brunette decided to take her own advice as her tears subsided and her eyelids started drooping on their own accord. Some time later, Rachel faintly heard another “I’m sorry” before she thought she felt the ghost of a kiss on her cheek. She was asleep seconds later.
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When Quinn woke up Rachel was gone. Quinn sat up and ran her hands through her hair, wincing at the tug of knots she felt. Probably from Rachel’s hands. Quinn paused. She stared straight across the room in utter shock before everything finally sunk in. She had been a physical presence, and she had basically felt and tasted things for the first time in ten years. Quinn had almost been real. And she had kissed Rachel. And Rachel had kissed her back.
And it was as if it had never happened. Except that it did. It did and then Quinn fell through Rachel and now Rachel was gone. And Quinn had kissed Rachel.
As if a mask had been lifted, Quinn’s exterior physically defected and her chest heaved once before her entire body broke down. Quinn felt the ghosts of her tears flood her face and seemingly drown her as she fought to not choke on her sobs.
“Why?” Quinn screamed at the ceiling. She was exhausted, granted, from everything that she had been able to do. Yet she mustered up the energy to tilt her head back and roam her eyes over the painted ceiling, screaming, “Why?” over and over.
Why did you give me her just to take her away again? Why did you give her to me at all? What is the point in this, God? What are you pulling? Where is this leading me to?” Quinn screamed in rapid succession before falling forward face-first onto the bed. She mentally cursed the idiotic “ghost laws” and whoever put them in place for the fact that she couldn’t fall through a floor or a bed but she would, without a doubt, never be able to hold someone’s hand again. Not like she had with Rachel.
With her face pressed into the sheets that should have been soaked with her tears, Quinn stared blankly at the wall across the room from her. Her eyes glazed over and she stared through the dozens of pictures of herself, and she thought. She laid like that for hours and thought. It was clear to her then that she harbored feelings for Rachel, intense ones that she never intended to have. But they were there, and Quinn didn’t want to deny them. She thought about why God sent Rachel into Quinn’s life when He knew she would fall in love with her.
After hours of going through Bible verses and remembering what her parents had made her sit through in church, Quinn came to a solid conclusion, in her opinion. She was going to Hell. Quinn was doomed to be sent down to spend eternity in Hell, and this was it. Her ten years of being a ghost had clearly been a type of limbo, and then God sent Rachel into her life to send her to Hell.
New tears filled Quinn’s eyes as she figured out that she was probably in the first stage of Hell; the first circle or something similar. She didn’t know. All Quinn knew was that was the only conclusion that made sense. This had to be Hell, or love. Right? She thought back to her parent’s marriage and wondered if there was really any difference at all.
----------
A good matter of hours later, Quinn sat up on ran a hand through her hair to push her fallen bangs out of her eyes. The sun was beginning to peer over the sill of her window and she guesstimated that it was about six or seven a.m. The ghost saw no point in getting out of bed when there was nothing to get out of bed for; Rachel was gone, and probably hated her for that matter, she had been both visible and tangible in the span of two weeks and then had them both ripped from her, what was the point anymore?
Despite all of that, however, Quinn got up. She may have had everything torn from her and been reduced to less than nothing, but Quinn Fabray was not a quitter. Not wanting to feel more like a ghost than she already did, Quinn trudged out of her room as opposed to blinking herself downstairs. Quinn paused on the last step of the stairs, her forehead creasing in confusion, when she heard the TV playing softly in the living room and felt Rachel’s presence.
Quinn stayed rooted in place as she wondered both why Rachel was still there and if it was worth it to make her presence known to the girl. Were they even okay? How did Quinn even want Rachel to react? How would she react if the roles had been reversed? Quinn’s eyes widened a little when she suddenly realized that if she could feel Rachel’s presence that Rachel could probably feel -
“Quinn?” Rachel called out to her from the living room. Crap.
“Yeah, Rachel,” Quinn called back from her same spot, “It’s me.”
There was a moment of silence before a bland, “I figured as much,” was shot back to her, “That was more of a subtly open-ended question as to why you’ve been standing in the same spot for the past fifteen minutes.”
Quinn’s eyebrows shot up in slight awe. Had it really been that long? Wonder, Quinn, because that’s not obvious.
“Oh,” Quinn heard come out quietly from the other room, drawing her attention back to the wall in between the girls, “did you wish to avoid me, Quinn? If so, I can go sit in another room. However, I’m not leaving, I apologize. I promised you I wouldn’t leave you again, so that’s that, I suppose.”
Quinn turned her head slightly as her eyelids fluttered shut and a small smirk played on her lips. She steeled her shoulders and made her way into the living room before taking a seat on the chair kitty-cornered to the couch that Rachel was laying down on. Quinn smiled faintly as she silently noted the fact that when Quinn sprawled out on the couch, her feet dangled over the edge; however, when Rachel laid on the couch, her feet barely reached the edge.
Quinn’s smile faltered briefly when her eyes caught a minor detail that she wasn’t sure how she missed before. “Have you been wearing those this whole time?” she inquired with a steady voice as she kept her gaze on the sweatpants that Rachel was wearing.
The brunette slowly turned away from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest on the small screen to meet Quinn’s eyes (as always) before having the decency to have a mild blush staining her cheeks. “Uhm, yes, I believe that I have. You see,” Rachel began as she misinterpreted Quinn’s silence for anger, “the second time I came here looking for you I happened to stumble upon your drawer of old clothes from what I’m assuming was your last year of high school so, your current age, and I just…” she trailed off.
Quinn cocked her head to the side and quizzically watched Rachel as McMurphy seemed to narrate the scene from inside of the TV as he demanded, “Which one of you nuts has got any guts?”
The blond watched a tiny smile tug at Rachel’s lips and she knew the irony of the quote was not lost on the brunette. “I just needed to feel close to you,” Rachel said after a moment of hesitation, “I needed to feel safe and like I actually had something to anchor my sanity to earth, because I was sure that I was losing my mind.”
“Are you mad at me?” Rachel abruptly asked which caused Quinn to tear herself out of her thoughts and wipe the goofy grin off of her face that had somehow wormed it’s way there after hearing what Rachel said.
“I’m not mad at you,” Quinn said quietly but sternly, “Why would you think that I was mad at you? If anything you should be mad at me, Rachel.”
“For kissing me?” Quinn watched Rachel ask and not knowing what to make of the amusement that was woven into the question, “No, I’m not mad at you for that. Usually people are mad at themselves for kissing me, not the other way around.”
Quinn’s expression tightened and her brows knit together as she kept an unblinking fixed stare on Rachel. The brunette bit her lip and flicked her gaze to the left as she shrugged her shoulders and mumbled, “It was only a kiss, anyway, a spur of the moment incident brought on by a state of euphoria, on both of our parts, at you being solid for the short time that you were.” Liar.
Quinn’s first reaction to get mad and go into defense mode, but she had the luxury of not being seen, and that gave her the chance to get a hold of her emotions and better observe Rachel’s true motives before reacting inappropriately. Quinn knew that Rachel was lying and she thought she knew why.
“Well, it may have been that for you, but for me it wasn’t just a kiss brought on by me being solid or tangible,” Quinn admitted as she kept her gaze on Rachel.
Tears immediately sprang up in Rachel’s eyes and Quinn saw a certain sense of relief pass over the girl's features as she repeated the same thought that she’d had weeks prior. “Falling for a ghost was not on my to-do list.”
“Since when does Rachel Berry deviate from her to-do list then, right?” Quinn asked lightheartedly and with a smile.
“Since four months ago when a ghost interrupted my post-glee self-motivational cheer up session in the restroom by slamming a stall door into my face,” Rachel retorted, not missing a beat.
Quinn’s shoulders rose in laughter as her gaze turned far-away. “I miss the days when I used to prank people,” she admitted after a moment as she got sidetracked in her own thoughts.
“Why did you stop?” Rachel asked.
Quinn stayed in thought before sighing. She wanted to keep this from Rachel but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. Whatever. Rachel wouldn’t think she had gone soft just because of what she was about to tell her. “Remember the day that I saw you get slushied? You know, right in front of me.”
Rachel slowly nodded, “Of course.”
“Well, I realized then that most people at that school are already getting enough hell from the pathetic excuse for Cheerios that are there now, and if not them, then from the pathetic excuse for jocks that are there now. They don’t need a ghost pranking them on top of all of that,” Quinn stated.
For a moment Quinn thought that she had said something wrong, because Rachel just stared up at her with wide eyes before shifting and sitting upright on the couch.
“Come with me to the school tomorrow,” the little brunette demanded.
Quinn paused, taken back and a little frustrated that Rachel had managed to steer the conversation away from the kiss, before asking, “Why should I do that? Besides, it’s locked now. Winter break, remember?”
Despite her frustration, Quinn smirked at the pout that Rachel immediately took on, almost bodily, at being denied. “I have a way in, Quinn. Besides, I wasn’t aware that I was giving you a choice in the matter. It’s completely necessary that you be in the school auditorium tomorrow at noon sharp,” Rachel proclaimed with her chin held high. Quinn’s eyebrow arched up as she stared the girl down. Rachel rolled her eyes and let out a resigned sigh after a moment of silence, adding, “Please.”
“Fine,” said Quinn, “but this doesn’t mean that we’re done talking about-”
The blond let out a hiss of breath between her gritted teeth when she was cut off by Rachel’s cell phone going off. As the instrumental version of Defying Gravity rang through the house, Quinn was almost thankful that she couldn’t physically touch anything anymore because she would have thrown Berry’s phone out of a window. They needed to talk, and it didn't look like that was going to happen.
For her part, Rachel smiled sheepishly at Quinn before answering, “Hello? Oh, hello daddy. Yes, I’m at Quinn’s,” Rachel said very matter-of-fact before listening for a few more moments in which Quinn’s eyebrow began to twitch, “You’re right, and I apologize, I should have told you that I was leaving. However, I’m appalled that it took you this long to realize that. Of course, daddy. Thank you, I do sound better, but that’s because I found her. Yes, she’s all right. Okay, daddy, be home soon.”
Quinn watched Rachel pull the phone away from her ear and snap it closed. “Do not tell me that you have to go,” Quinn said dryly, "I thought you promised that you wouldn't leave."
Rachel looked down as she pursed her lips. “Unfortunately Quinn, I do have to return home. If I had any doubt whatsoever that you would not be in my room tonight anyway, I would not be leaving, but I know you. Anyway, we will just have to continue this conversation tomorrow, at the auditorium! All major events happen there, you know.” With that, Quinn stayed seated as Rachel quickly got up and made her way to the door.
“You know I could haunt you for the rest of the night until we talk about this, right? Since I'll be at your house anyway," Quinn added with a roll of her eyes because damnet it was true, "I could be the biggest pain in the ass you’ve ever met, Rachel,” Quinn called after the brunette.
“While I’m aware that the squeaky wheel gets the grease, Quinn,” Rachel shouted back as she opened the front door, “I’m afraid no wheel squeaks louder than myself. I would surely out-annoy you because it seems to be a hidden talent. Besides, you and I both know that you need to stay here and continue sleeping and resting. You’ve been through very traumatic things in a very short time frame, so please just rest your mind and spirit. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow. Be prepared to do nothing but sleep when you get to my residence, that is of course, if you do come. I suppose I might be wrong about that but I highly doubt it. So, until tonight, Quinn.”
Quinn rolled her eyes when she heard the front door click, signaling Rachel’s departure after her long-winded rant.
“Wonderful, of course, because you haven’t been through traumatic things recently either. Rachel Berry, you aren’t as stone cold and unaffected as you’d like to make me think. God that girl is good at putting up her damn walls! Oh, I’ll get you to talk, Berry,” Quinn said mischievously to herself, “one way or another.”
The blond perked up suddenly when she sensed something near. Quinn tensed as she felt the Ombra in the distance. What the hell were they doing? However, just as she was about to panic, her mind’s eye told her that they were going in the opposite direction of her. Letting out a relieved sigh, Quinn moved from the chair to the couch that Rachel had previously been laying on. The ghost stretched out and laughed through her nose as her feet ended up dangling off of the edge.
The last thought on Quinn’s mind before she fell asleep was about Hell, and how if this was it, if Rachel was Hell, maybe Quinn could risk walking through some flames for her. It's not like she hadn't walked through flames before, anyway.
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Rachel opted to walk home instead of running, like she had to Quinn’s house the day before, as she thought back on everything. She tried to let the freezing air numb her mind to the point of no thought processes being capable, but as predicted, that failed. No matter how hard she tried, Rachel could not stop thinking about the feel of Quinn’s shirt twisted in her hands or how soft the girl’s hair had been. Quinn had kissed her and, not only that, but Rachel had kissed back and it had been perfect. She couldn’t describe it, but something inside of Rachel kept screaming at her to notice just how natural it had felt to kiss Quinn. She certainly had a lot of thinking to do that night, and she had to come to a decision before the auditorium meeting that she had set up.
Did she love Quinn? Could she love Quinn? The girl was a ghost, for crying out loud! Her chestnut hair whipped around her shoulders as she shook her head. No, Quinn was a human. A girl, okay, Rachel could deal with that; she was raised to believe that love was love, regardless. The only thing getting in her way was the ghost part, and she wasn’t quite sure that she could deal with that one. Oh, that was not the proper setting for her to be thinking on matters of the heart like that! She was too upset, too angry at herself for putting up walls and shutting Quinn out. That had been unfair of her, necessary, but unfair.
As the brunette made her way to her house on the quiet street, she watched as the sun started to raise higher in the sky. Mere hours ago she had been a sobbing mess, and now here she was, still a mess, but a mess with a plan. Rachel Berry would never be caught dead without a plan. While Quinn slept, Rachel thought of a plan. A brilliant one that she needed to PowerPoint as soon as she returned home.
As she started up her driveway a few minutes later, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she was being watched. Rachel shook it off and chalked it up to nerves and lack of sleep as she made her way through her front door, fully intending to berate her fathers on the notion that they were so neglectful as to not realize that she had been gone an entire day.