Please Don't Go (2/3)
Name: Please Don't Go (2/3)
Author: mooosicaldreamz
Rating: PG-13
Length: 3410
Spoilers: AU (it's its own verse!)
Summary: Quinn's life is changing once again.
Author's Note: OMG FINALLY. Okay, I finished it. Please don't kill me. Please bring tissues. Hopefully it will not take so long to get the third and final part done? But no guarantees. I blame Tumblr, which I believe was created by the devil to drag me into a land of perpetual procrastination. YOU SHOULD JOIN IF YOU ARE NOT ALREADY THERE. Also check out my brand new masterlist, where all other Love Story-verse projects can be found! Plus all other sorts of things!
[ one ]
When Quinn wakes up the next morning, Haley is curled up next to her in bed, with Alex in between them. Normally, Quinn would be upset about that - it wasn't really all that safe to go to sleep with a small child in your bed - but at the moment, she didn't care all that much. Haley had her hand splayed out over Alex's stomach and her face buried into Rachel's pillow, a habit Quinn herself had. Her blonde hair (and what a miracle that hair had been, especially after Rachel insisting that the baby would look like Puck as much as it would look like Quinn all those years ago) was splayed out all around her. Alex had his small fingers curled into Quinn's own hair (which explained the stinging pain on her head in her dream), and his head was tucked toward her.
Quinn couldn't help but think that Rachel would've loved such a moment.
Her bedroom door opens quietly, and she rolls over to look as Santana Lopez stands in the doorway, staring at her with a strange, muted look on her face. She waves a little, and Quinn waves back, reaching for her son and smiling down at him when he squirms but settles into her arms with a sigh while Haley shifts in her sleep. Carrying him past Santana, she is greeted by a cooing Brittany, her fathers-in-law engaged in a quiet battle with Haley and Sam in Monopoly, and Noah Puckerman, leaning against the back of her couch.
The whole history of her life spans the room, from the small boy in her arms to the man she met when she was Alex's age, and all she wants is for her wife to be here, with her, living it with her.
Brittany takes Alex from Quinn, smiling softly down at the boy, who's starting to blink awake at all the movement, and she greets Quinn with a half hug and a whispered, "Hey," before she moves backwards, bouncing the boy up and down and whispering things to him. Santana closes the bedroom door behind her and grips Quinn's shoulder, her face betraying sadness. She only nods before she follows her own wife to play with a gurgling Alex. Puck moves over to her quickly, and Quinn throws herself into his arms with ferocity.
Her relationship with Puck had endured plenty of changes, but he had grown into one of her best friends and a wonderful father to Haley, and Alex's too. He had been one of her greatest allies, her entire life, and it felt good to have him here, with Santana and Brittany, and Haley and Sam, and Aaron and Michael.
In the end, though, she couldn't help but think she'd give them all up to have Rachel awake and smiling.
//
Quinn gets the call from the NYU medical center about transferring to the Neurological Institute of New York to the neuro-ICU. She says yes before they can even explain the benefits, because she already knows what they are.
She already knows what this is, and what this can do. And she already feels like Rachel is slipping away.
//
Brittany can't spend more than five minutes in the hospital room without crying, and Santana can't stand to be in the ICU room with the constant beeping of machines and medicine distributing itself without Brittany there. Michael is stoic, staring down at his daughter before excusing himself to go get a snack from the vending machine. Aaron barely makes it past the doors to the ICU before he turns back, his face pale and his hands shaking. Sam, Haley's wife, sits with Aaron and plays a game of chess on her iPhone with him. Her daughter is at school. Puck is in the apartment, waiting around for his daughter so they can make their way over to the hospital together. The only person who can stand to be in the hospital room, besides herself and Alex (and that's hardly much of an accomplishment, as he's completely asleep) is Haley.
Her cousin was now a producer on Broadway, with a successful show running its way to the Tony awards. Their relationship had changed so much, in the years since Quinn had invited her to she and Rachel's wedding on a whim, almost, and they were closer than ever. They were both outcasts from their family, for the same reason, and they were both married and successful and happy. Or, well, Quinn had been happy. Now it seems as though she's stuck in this inky blackness.
It's only been a few days - but for some reason it feels like years.
"Did you see the reporters?" Haley whispers, glancing out the small window overlooking the street, her voice quiet and yet entirely too loud in the room. Quinn only nods, looking down at her son and feeling the way his small fingers clench around her index finger in his sleep. There had been a small, merry band of photographers and reporters badgering her about Rachel's condition when she had walked in, her hand wrapped in Michael's. It was probably a miracle Santana hadn't punched any of them, and if Puck had been there, someone would've been knocked out and Quinn would've probably had to fight off a law suit too, not that Sam or Santana couldn't win it for her.
Haley moves away from the window, her eyes sliding over the room before they land on the charts at the end of the bed, and she slides her fingers over the top of the clipboard before she locks her eyes on Quinn and Alex.
"He looks so much like her," she whispers, and Alex stirs a little, as if her can hear his godmother's voice and knows she's talking about him. "It's amazing."
Quinn only nods again, watching Rachel's hand give a minor twitch on the bed before it still once more - an eternal sleep settled over her as she breathes in and out. She looks so normal, laying there, like she does on Sunday mornings and she doesn't get up until eleven, claiming it's her day off and that she can sleep through as much of it as she wants. She's so peaceful.
Alex stirs even more, his hand unclasping around Quinn's finger and swinging them both above his head as he stretches a little, his eyes blinking open and catching onto her with a happy, toothy smile, and he reaches for her hair once again. Ever since the boy had been born, his habit had been grabbing her hair - he didn't have the habit of doing it to his sister, who had the same hair and everything - he had only done it to Quinn. He gives a small tug at it, before he gives a quiet yawn and moves his head to look around the room.
Haley moves over quickly and offers to take him, and Quinn hands him over willingly, smiling down at the boy and pulling her hair loose from his grip.
"Is it okay if I take him and sit with the rest of them? Puck and Haley should be getting here soon," she says, and Quinn only nods again, because Rachel's hand twitches once more over Haley's shoulder.
But then Alex and Haley leave, and all is silent in the room once again.
//
Puck and Haley (the younger) arrive thirty minutes later, and Puck immediately steps to lean against the wall next to Quinn as Haley stands in the space between her mother and her mom and dad, looking down at the bed. Quinn can't see her face, but her head is rapidly moving, looking around the room with interest, probably a morbid sort of it. She finally points to a machine and asks, "What is that?"
She's pointed to the EEG monitor, hooked up to the electrode pads on Rachel's forehead, and Quinn automatically starts listing off what it is in her head, what the best model is, how it works, and how it measures the physics of the brain before she settles on a simple version of the story even though she knows her daughter could handle the long one.
"It measures brain waves...basically. Um, if you talk to her, she might be able to hear you, and her brain might act up a little, so the number will go higher. Her numbers should be pretty low, because she's in a...coma. It's deeper than normal sleep or even induced sleep," she says, and Haley nods along, her fingers tracing along the edge of the bed absently.
"How bad is it, really?" Haley asks, without turning around to look at Puck or Quinn, her voice quiet but loud, strong but shaky. She's sixteen years old and at her mother's bedside, and she's every bit the child Quinn wanted her to be, beautiful and loving and strong and honest and every good part of Rachel, and Quinn never wanted this to happen to her, never wanted her to know what this feeling was like.
But what can she do?
"It's a coma," Quinn whispers, afraid to upset the fragile balance that permeates the air of the hospital room. "Her motor functions aren't diminished, her brain waves appear to be good...she's just...not awake. It's a coma."
"Research says comas are fifty fifty chance," Haley says, and Quinn almost gives a snort, because if there's one thing Haley's picked up from Rachel, it's her dedication to thorough research.
But she can't even smile, because her daughter is staring down at her wife, who is in a coma, in a hospital bed.
"It's a coma," Quinn repeats once more, and she's grateful for Puck's arm coming up to rest around her shoulders and pulling her into his side as they watch their daughter watch her mother breathe in and out and in and out and do nothing more.
//
When they get home with multiple boxes of pizza, Brittany plays with Alex while Haley and Santana swordfight on the Wii, and Michael and Aaron sit on either side of Quinn and cheer their granddaughter on, earning glares from Santana who claims they're being unsupportive of her in her time of need. Puck has already crashed in the guest room, claiming a headache, but Quinn suspects he's talking to his girlfriend of almost two years who he left behind to come visit.
This is the family she's always wanted, and she's had it for so many years now, after her parents disowning her (twice, in a way).
It only figures that it would finally be put in danger.
//
Santana is the one who comes with her for a walk down the street to the park. She and Brittany had gotten married in their sophomore year of college, a sort of blink-and-you-miss-it event that everyone anticipated anyway, once Santana got her stuff together and came to the terms with the fact that she was as gay as a rainbow and didn't much enjoy being with anyone besides Brittany. Brittany had been happy to go along. They didn't have kids - a product of Santana's dedication to her job and her dedication to Brittany being successful as a dancer, but they treated Alex and Haley as if they were their own.
They finally stop walking and sit down on a bench, watching runners jog around as the last dregs of sunlight filter in through the trees, and finally Santana speaks.
"Go ahead and say whatever you need to say, before you lose your shit in front of your kids and all the other people."
Quinn looks over at Santana, who's staring straight at her with a familiar exacting look in her eye, cutting right through Quinn with practiced ease. Law school took Santana's usual bitchy dynamic and had shifted it straight into a scary, scary thing. And so Quinn opened her mouth to speak - only to find a choked noise being produced before she has to look away, up at the trees, and down at the sidewalk, and towards an oncoming jogger, her head moving too fast too fast while she feels hot tears start to streak her face.
She curls in on herself, feeling her hands shake, and everything just starts moving in her brain again.
"I don't know what's happening, I don't know why this is happening," she whispers, squeaks, slightly amazed that this is even getting out past the huge knot lodged in her throat. "I love her more than anything else, I'd give anything to wake her up, to keep her, to stop her from climbing the set, I want her here. I need her," she groans, squeezing and twisting her own hands up into a ball and digging nails into her palm. "I can't raise Alex without her, I can't send Haley to college without her, I can barely breathe."
Quinn feels Santana's hand drop on her shoulder, heavy and warm, but it's not what Quinn wants, not what she needs.
"I don't know if she'll get better," Quinn whispers, haltingly, feeling her palms slide against each other as the fingers on her right hand grip onto the ring on her left, feeling out the familiar shape and the smoothness of the gold. "I don't know if she'll wake up."
Santana's hand squeezes, and Quinn's head drops lower, her eyes focused now on her shoes, and she watches as her tears haze her vision and then clear as they drop to splash on her shoes.
"I need her here."
Santana clears her throat and gives a gruff, "I know."
Quinn's shoulders wrack with suppressed sobs as she whimpers, her head hanging and her hands gripping each other, pressed in against her stomach as she's bent over, Santana's hand still resting on her shoulder. She doesn't know how long she just sits there and cries, wishing for all the world that her phone might ring with news of Rachel waking up, smiling, and singing, and there, there for Quinn, like she swore she would be ever since they were sophomores in love with a kid to raise.
When she finally lifts her head, Santana is still staring straight at her, but her eyes are red, and thanks to the last moments of the setting sun, the tear tracks on her face are well-illuminated. She gives a small smile, and Quinn crashes into her waiting arms without a thought.
The sun sets, and they walk home in silence.
//
The next day is Saturday and she and Haley spend most of the day inside the hospital room, watching nurses and doctors walk in and out and spare glances at them. They eat lunch with the rest of the family and then return to the silence of the room, just watching Rachel breathe and twitch occasionally.
Quinn comes back from a trip to the bathroom to find Haley standing at Rachel's bedside, her hand outstretched, hovering over Rachel's shoulder but not touching. Her head is turned enough that Quinn can see her mouth opening and closing, and can see the way Haley's hand shakes in the sunlight coming in through the window. Quinn starts to step further into the room, knocking lightly at the sliding glass door that's permanently pulled open, and Haley jumps as if she's been shot and turns wide, hazel eyes on her mother standing in the doorway. Her hand retracts to rest against her collarbone, grabbing at the prominent bone and clutching there.
Quinn barely realizes Haley's eyes are clouded over with tears before the girl is brushing past her, muttering something in a croaky voice about going to the bathroom before sprinting for the neuro-ICU doors. Quinn is hot on her heels, sparing a quick glance at her unmoving wife before she goes after the girl, tracking a sharp left turn towards the bathrooms, and crashing into the door right before Haley can get it fully closed and locked. She steps in quickly and closes the door with her back, reaching behind herself to slide the lock into place while Haley stares at her shoes.
"Haley..." Quinn starts, then stops as Haley's head lifts to lock her eyes onto Quinn, the clench of her jaw reminding Quinn of Puck as a younger man, and with the way her body is set in Rachel's signature angry pose, Quinn is momentarily stunned into silence. She's never seen her daughter look this angry, not even when she lost her favorite toy or when she and her ex-boyfriend broke up after he met Quinn and Rachel. The red quality of her eyes makes the hazel stand out almost beautifully, tragically, and her fists are clenched in tight balls.
"Why can't I just go to the bathroom in peace? I'm okay," she almost growls, her eyes wide and focused tightly on Quinn. Quinn, for her part, only shakes her head and tries to start again.
"Honey - "
"Stop," she growls again, one of her hands raising to unclench and then clutch once more at her collarbone, her fingers gripping and releasing at her upper chest. "Just stop, I'm okay."
"Haley."
Haley freezes, her eyes meeting Quinn's and squeezing shut at the sincerity Quinn is trying to project before she spins away, crashing into the wall with a loud thump, and leaning her head against the tiles, breathing hard as she starts to cry in earnest, her hand still right over her heart, rubbing and clutching.
"Why are you doing that?" Quinn asks, moving closer, her eyes locked on the odd movement, and all Haley does is shake her head, groaning and crying.
"I can't breathe," she whimpers, her voice cracking as she turns around again, crossing to the opposite wall and away from Quinn. Quinn feels her own heart clench in pure sympathy and for a moment her whole head and chest floods with a constant instinct of protection that tells her to go kill whatever is making her daughter feel like this.
"Baby..." she starts, only to get cut off once more by Haley.
"You said I could talk to her," she croaks, shaking her head against the wall she's rested her head against. "You said she might be able to hear me, that I could talk to her."
Quinn nods, sliding closer once more to her daughter, who thankfully doesn't move away this time, just stares down at the ground with her forehead resting against the wall. The silhouette effect provides Quinn a look at Haley's reddening face, at the pure symptoms of being distraught all up and down her features, in her posture and on her face. She steps closer, her shoulder sliding on the same wall Haley is resting against.
"I couldn't even touch her," Haley whispers, barely within Quinn's hearing range. "I can't even touch her, let alone speak," she says, louder this time, and she finally looks up at her mother. "She's my momma, and I can't even touch her. She's my momma."
Quinn feels her heart splinter even further as the sound in the small bathroom is punctuated by her own tears, by Haley's tears and the scratching sound of Haley's fingers pulling at the fabric of her t-shirt.
"It doesn't seem like it's getting better," Haley finally says, her eyes dropping down to the floor, and she starts sliding down the wall and crumples to the ground, curling in a ball and setting her head on her knees, one arm wrapped around her legs and the other still tucked against her chest. Quinn sinks down to her knees next to her, and wraps the girl, her daughter, she and Rachel's daughter, up into her arms, and cries into the similar blonde hair cascading down from her head, trying to breathe.
She thinks back to her wife in the hospital bed, and she prays to God that she'll wake up soon.
In the mean time, she whispers for Haley to breathe, and Quinn tries to do the same.
Author: mooosicaldreamz
Rating: PG-13
Length: 3410
Spoilers: AU (it's its own verse!)
Summary: Quinn's life is changing once again.
Author's Note: OMG FINALLY. Okay, I finished it. Please don't kill me. Please bring tissues. Hopefully it will not take so long to get the third and final part done? But no guarantees. I blame Tumblr, which I believe was created by the devil to drag me into a land of perpetual procrastination. YOU SHOULD JOIN IF YOU ARE NOT ALREADY THERE. Also check out my brand new masterlist, where all other Love Story-verse projects can be found! Plus all other sorts of things!
[ one ]
When Quinn wakes up the next morning, Haley is curled up next to her in bed, with Alex in between them. Normally, Quinn would be upset about that - it wasn't really all that safe to go to sleep with a small child in your bed - but at the moment, she didn't care all that much. Haley had her hand splayed out over Alex's stomach and her face buried into Rachel's pillow, a habit Quinn herself had. Her blonde hair (and what a miracle that hair had been, especially after Rachel insisting that the baby would look like Puck as much as it would look like Quinn all those years ago) was splayed out all around her. Alex had his small fingers curled into Quinn's own hair (which explained the stinging pain on her head in her dream), and his head was tucked toward her.
Quinn couldn't help but think that Rachel would've loved such a moment.
Her bedroom door opens quietly, and she rolls over to look as Santana Lopez stands in the doorway, staring at her with a strange, muted look on her face. She waves a little, and Quinn waves back, reaching for her son and smiling down at him when he squirms but settles into her arms with a sigh while Haley shifts in her sleep. Carrying him past Santana, she is greeted by a cooing Brittany, her fathers-in-law engaged in a quiet battle with Haley and Sam in Monopoly, and Noah Puckerman, leaning against the back of her couch.
The whole history of her life spans the room, from the small boy in her arms to the man she met when she was Alex's age, and all she wants is for her wife to be here, with her, living it with her.
Brittany takes Alex from Quinn, smiling softly down at the boy, who's starting to blink awake at all the movement, and she greets Quinn with a half hug and a whispered, "Hey," before she moves backwards, bouncing the boy up and down and whispering things to him. Santana closes the bedroom door behind her and grips Quinn's shoulder, her face betraying sadness. She only nods before she follows her own wife to play with a gurgling Alex. Puck moves over to her quickly, and Quinn throws herself into his arms with ferocity.
Her relationship with Puck had endured plenty of changes, but he had grown into one of her best friends and a wonderful father to Haley, and Alex's too. He had been one of her greatest allies, her entire life, and it felt good to have him here, with Santana and Brittany, and Haley and Sam, and Aaron and Michael.
In the end, though, she couldn't help but think she'd give them all up to have Rachel awake and smiling.
//
Quinn gets the call from the NYU medical center about transferring to the Neurological Institute of New York to the neuro-ICU. She says yes before they can even explain the benefits, because she already knows what they are.
She already knows what this is, and what this can do. And she already feels like Rachel is slipping away.
//
Brittany can't spend more than five minutes in the hospital room without crying, and Santana can't stand to be in the ICU room with the constant beeping of machines and medicine distributing itself without Brittany there. Michael is stoic, staring down at his daughter before excusing himself to go get a snack from the vending machine. Aaron barely makes it past the doors to the ICU before he turns back, his face pale and his hands shaking. Sam, Haley's wife, sits with Aaron and plays a game of chess on her iPhone with him. Her daughter is at school. Puck is in the apartment, waiting around for his daughter so they can make their way over to the hospital together. The only person who can stand to be in the hospital room, besides herself and Alex (and that's hardly much of an accomplishment, as he's completely asleep) is Haley.
Her cousin was now a producer on Broadway, with a successful show running its way to the Tony awards. Their relationship had changed so much, in the years since Quinn had invited her to she and Rachel's wedding on a whim, almost, and they were closer than ever. They were both outcasts from their family, for the same reason, and they were both married and successful and happy. Or, well, Quinn had been happy. Now it seems as though she's stuck in this inky blackness.
It's only been a few days - but for some reason it feels like years.
"Did you see the reporters?" Haley whispers, glancing out the small window overlooking the street, her voice quiet and yet entirely too loud in the room. Quinn only nods, looking down at her son and feeling the way his small fingers clench around her index finger in his sleep. There had been a small, merry band of photographers and reporters badgering her about Rachel's condition when she had walked in, her hand wrapped in Michael's. It was probably a miracle Santana hadn't punched any of them, and if Puck had been there, someone would've been knocked out and Quinn would've probably had to fight off a law suit too, not that Sam or Santana couldn't win it for her.
Haley moves away from the window, her eyes sliding over the room before they land on the charts at the end of the bed, and she slides her fingers over the top of the clipboard before she locks her eyes on Quinn and Alex.
"He looks so much like her," she whispers, and Alex stirs a little, as if her can hear his godmother's voice and knows she's talking about him. "It's amazing."
Quinn only nods again, watching Rachel's hand give a minor twitch on the bed before it still once more - an eternal sleep settled over her as she breathes in and out. She looks so normal, laying there, like she does on Sunday mornings and she doesn't get up until eleven, claiming it's her day off and that she can sleep through as much of it as she wants. She's so peaceful.
Alex stirs even more, his hand unclasping around Quinn's finger and swinging them both above his head as he stretches a little, his eyes blinking open and catching onto her with a happy, toothy smile, and he reaches for her hair once again. Ever since the boy had been born, his habit had been grabbing her hair - he didn't have the habit of doing it to his sister, who had the same hair and everything - he had only done it to Quinn. He gives a small tug at it, before he gives a quiet yawn and moves his head to look around the room.
Haley moves over quickly and offers to take him, and Quinn hands him over willingly, smiling down at the boy and pulling her hair loose from his grip.
"Is it okay if I take him and sit with the rest of them? Puck and Haley should be getting here soon," she says, and Quinn only nods again, because Rachel's hand twitches once more over Haley's shoulder.
But then Alex and Haley leave, and all is silent in the room once again.
//
Puck and Haley (the younger) arrive thirty minutes later, and Puck immediately steps to lean against the wall next to Quinn as Haley stands in the space between her mother and her mom and dad, looking down at the bed. Quinn can't see her face, but her head is rapidly moving, looking around the room with interest, probably a morbid sort of it. She finally points to a machine and asks, "What is that?"
She's pointed to the EEG monitor, hooked up to the electrode pads on Rachel's forehead, and Quinn automatically starts listing off what it is in her head, what the best model is, how it works, and how it measures the physics of the brain before she settles on a simple version of the story even though she knows her daughter could handle the long one.
"It measures brain waves...basically. Um, if you talk to her, she might be able to hear you, and her brain might act up a little, so the number will go higher. Her numbers should be pretty low, because she's in a...coma. It's deeper than normal sleep or even induced sleep," she says, and Haley nods along, her fingers tracing along the edge of the bed absently.
"How bad is it, really?" Haley asks, without turning around to look at Puck or Quinn, her voice quiet but loud, strong but shaky. She's sixteen years old and at her mother's bedside, and she's every bit the child Quinn wanted her to be, beautiful and loving and strong and honest and every good part of Rachel, and Quinn never wanted this to happen to her, never wanted her to know what this feeling was like.
But what can she do?
"It's a coma," Quinn whispers, afraid to upset the fragile balance that permeates the air of the hospital room. "Her motor functions aren't diminished, her brain waves appear to be good...she's just...not awake. It's a coma."
"Research says comas are fifty fifty chance," Haley says, and Quinn almost gives a snort, because if there's one thing Haley's picked up from Rachel, it's her dedication to thorough research.
But she can't even smile, because her daughter is staring down at her wife, who is in a coma, in a hospital bed.
"It's a coma," Quinn repeats once more, and she's grateful for Puck's arm coming up to rest around her shoulders and pulling her into his side as they watch their daughter watch her mother breathe in and out and in and out and do nothing more.
//
When they get home with multiple boxes of pizza, Brittany plays with Alex while Haley and Santana swordfight on the Wii, and Michael and Aaron sit on either side of Quinn and cheer their granddaughter on, earning glares from Santana who claims they're being unsupportive of her in her time of need. Puck has already crashed in the guest room, claiming a headache, but Quinn suspects he's talking to his girlfriend of almost two years who he left behind to come visit.
This is the family she's always wanted, and she's had it for so many years now, after her parents disowning her (twice, in a way).
It only figures that it would finally be put in danger.
//
Santana is the one who comes with her for a walk down the street to the park. She and Brittany had gotten married in their sophomore year of college, a sort of blink-and-you-miss-it event that everyone anticipated anyway, once Santana got her stuff together and came to the terms with the fact that she was as gay as a rainbow and didn't much enjoy being with anyone besides Brittany. Brittany had been happy to go along. They didn't have kids - a product of Santana's dedication to her job and her dedication to Brittany being successful as a dancer, but they treated Alex and Haley as if they were their own.
They finally stop walking and sit down on a bench, watching runners jog around as the last dregs of sunlight filter in through the trees, and finally Santana speaks.
"Go ahead and say whatever you need to say, before you lose your shit in front of your kids and all the other people."
Quinn looks over at Santana, who's staring straight at her with a familiar exacting look in her eye, cutting right through Quinn with practiced ease. Law school took Santana's usual bitchy dynamic and had shifted it straight into a scary, scary thing. And so Quinn opened her mouth to speak - only to find a choked noise being produced before she has to look away, up at the trees, and down at the sidewalk, and towards an oncoming jogger, her head moving too fast too fast while she feels hot tears start to streak her face.
She curls in on herself, feeling her hands shake, and everything just starts moving in her brain again.
"I don't know what's happening, I don't know why this is happening," she whispers, squeaks, slightly amazed that this is even getting out past the huge knot lodged in her throat. "I love her more than anything else, I'd give anything to wake her up, to keep her, to stop her from climbing the set, I want her here. I need her," she groans, squeezing and twisting her own hands up into a ball and digging nails into her palm. "I can't raise Alex without her, I can't send Haley to college without her, I can barely breathe."
Quinn feels Santana's hand drop on her shoulder, heavy and warm, but it's not what Quinn wants, not what she needs.
"I don't know if she'll get better," Quinn whispers, haltingly, feeling her palms slide against each other as the fingers on her right hand grip onto the ring on her left, feeling out the familiar shape and the smoothness of the gold. "I don't know if she'll wake up."
Santana's hand squeezes, and Quinn's head drops lower, her eyes focused now on her shoes, and she watches as her tears haze her vision and then clear as they drop to splash on her shoes.
"I need her here."
Santana clears her throat and gives a gruff, "I know."
Quinn's shoulders wrack with suppressed sobs as she whimpers, her head hanging and her hands gripping each other, pressed in against her stomach as she's bent over, Santana's hand still resting on her shoulder. She doesn't know how long she just sits there and cries, wishing for all the world that her phone might ring with news of Rachel waking up, smiling, and singing, and there, there for Quinn, like she swore she would be ever since they were sophomores in love with a kid to raise.
When she finally lifts her head, Santana is still staring straight at her, but her eyes are red, and thanks to the last moments of the setting sun, the tear tracks on her face are well-illuminated. She gives a small smile, and Quinn crashes into her waiting arms without a thought.
The sun sets, and they walk home in silence.
//
The next day is Saturday and she and Haley spend most of the day inside the hospital room, watching nurses and doctors walk in and out and spare glances at them. They eat lunch with the rest of the family and then return to the silence of the room, just watching Rachel breathe and twitch occasionally.
Quinn comes back from a trip to the bathroom to find Haley standing at Rachel's bedside, her hand outstretched, hovering over Rachel's shoulder but not touching. Her head is turned enough that Quinn can see her mouth opening and closing, and can see the way Haley's hand shakes in the sunlight coming in through the window. Quinn starts to step further into the room, knocking lightly at the sliding glass door that's permanently pulled open, and Haley jumps as if she's been shot and turns wide, hazel eyes on her mother standing in the doorway. Her hand retracts to rest against her collarbone, grabbing at the prominent bone and clutching there.
Quinn barely realizes Haley's eyes are clouded over with tears before the girl is brushing past her, muttering something in a croaky voice about going to the bathroom before sprinting for the neuro-ICU doors. Quinn is hot on her heels, sparing a quick glance at her unmoving wife before she goes after the girl, tracking a sharp left turn towards the bathrooms, and crashing into the door right before Haley can get it fully closed and locked. She steps in quickly and closes the door with her back, reaching behind herself to slide the lock into place while Haley stares at her shoes.
"Haley..." Quinn starts, then stops as Haley's head lifts to lock her eyes onto Quinn, the clench of her jaw reminding Quinn of Puck as a younger man, and with the way her body is set in Rachel's signature angry pose, Quinn is momentarily stunned into silence. She's never seen her daughter look this angry, not even when she lost her favorite toy or when she and her ex-boyfriend broke up after he met Quinn and Rachel. The red quality of her eyes makes the hazel stand out almost beautifully, tragically, and her fists are clenched in tight balls.
"Why can't I just go to the bathroom in peace? I'm okay," she almost growls, her eyes wide and focused tightly on Quinn. Quinn, for her part, only shakes her head and tries to start again.
"Honey - "
"Stop," she growls again, one of her hands raising to unclench and then clutch once more at her collarbone, her fingers gripping and releasing at her upper chest. "Just stop, I'm okay."
"Haley."
Haley freezes, her eyes meeting Quinn's and squeezing shut at the sincerity Quinn is trying to project before she spins away, crashing into the wall with a loud thump, and leaning her head against the tiles, breathing hard as she starts to cry in earnest, her hand still right over her heart, rubbing and clutching.
"Why are you doing that?" Quinn asks, moving closer, her eyes locked on the odd movement, and all Haley does is shake her head, groaning and crying.
"I can't breathe," she whimpers, her voice cracking as she turns around again, crossing to the opposite wall and away from Quinn. Quinn feels her own heart clench in pure sympathy and for a moment her whole head and chest floods with a constant instinct of protection that tells her to go kill whatever is making her daughter feel like this.
"Baby..." she starts, only to get cut off once more by Haley.
"You said I could talk to her," she croaks, shaking her head against the wall she's rested her head against. "You said she might be able to hear me, that I could talk to her."
Quinn nods, sliding closer once more to her daughter, who thankfully doesn't move away this time, just stares down at the ground with her forehead resting against the wall. The silhouette effect provides Quinn a look at Haley's reddening face, at the pure symptoms of being distraught all up and down her features, in her posture and on her face. She steps closer, her shoulder sliding on the same wall Haley is resting against.
"I couldn't even touch her," Haley whispers, barely within Quinn's hearing range. "I can't even touch her, let alone speak," she says, louder this time, and she finally looks up at her mother. "She's my momma, and I can't even touch her. She's my momma."
Quinn feels her heart splinter even further as the sound in the small bathroom is punctuated by her own tears, by Haley's tears and the scratching sound of Haley's fingers pulling at the fabric of her t-shirt.
"It doesn't seem like it's getting better," Haley finally says, her eyes dropping down to the floor, and she starts sliding down the wall and crumples to the ground, curling in a ball and setting her head on her knees, one arm wrapped around her legs and the other still tucked against her chest. Quinn sinks down to her knees next to her, and wraps the girl, her daughter, she and Rachel's daughter, up into her arms, and cries into the similar blonde hair cascading down from her head, trying to breathe.
She thinks back to her wife in the hospital bed, and she prays to God that she'll wake up soon.
In the mean time, she whispers for Haley to breathe, and Quinn tries to do the same.