Let the Rain Sing You a Lullaby (Glee, Kurt/Quinn, Part 11)
Let the Rain Sing You a Lullaby
by aishuu
Fandom: Glee
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Kurt/Quinn
Wordcount: 1,700 (this section)
Warnings: Topics covered include teen pregnancy, sexuality/gender identity, abortion, discussion of the rape... nothing graphic, though.
Spoilers: Season 1, some Season 2 and 3 influences on characterization but nothing concrete.
Notes: It lives! Better a short update than no update.
Summary: How the series might have gone if Kurt was Quinn's baby daddy. Some romances don't fit into any box.
Quinn doesn't like it when a guy speaks for her. She likes being a part of a couple, but one of the reasons Finn had been her ideal boyfriend was that he understood "we" really meant "Quinn," and that he shouldn't use it unless he was sure Quinn would approve.
Kurt does not seem to get this. Sometimes he's very considerate of making sure she is having her opinion considered, but right now he's being a stubborn asshole. She can understand that he's angry, but it wasn't Mr. Schue's fault. They have more than enough problems to contend with than wanting a vendetta against a teacher who's always been nice to them.
She knows Kurt doesn't want her to make a scene, even though she really wants to tear into him. She wants to scream at him for being an idiot, but doing so in front of the rest of the school isn't going to help them avoid the slushie brigade.
She looks at the late pass and realizes that Mr. Schue neglected to put a time or date on them, making them better than a Golden Ticket. She links her arm through Kurt's, who goes rigid at the unexpected contact. "Let's go to the auditorium and have a little talk," she says, smiling pleasantly for the sake of the couple of kids who are loitering in the hall.
He gave her a suspicious look. "You spend way too much time trying to cut classes for an honor roll student."
"High honor roll, thank you. And we need to have a talk, and it's either going to be in private, or I'll be forced to demonstrate how good I am at making a scene," she replies sweetly.
Kurt rolls his eyes, but shifts course so they're on the way to the auditorium. Ever since Principal Figgins cut the school's drama department, the auditorium remains mostly empty during the school day. Aside from the occasional Glee club practice, the most use the place sees is from truant students, looking for a good place to make out.
Quinn certainly isn't interested in that, but knows that Kurt feels comfortable in this room. Giving him the home field advantage might help relax him enough so he actually listens to her, rather than giving her a stream of sarcastic oneliners. At school, Kurt's always got his protective armor on, and she doesn't want to try to fight through it.
They sit on the edge of the stage, which only has a couple of the overhead lights on. Despite the large room, it feels strangely intimate. "I'm really mad at you," she says, deciding to speak to him instead of yelling in his face. "Why were you so mean to Mr. Schue?"
He shifts a bit, studying his nails like he's contemplating whipping out his nail file. "I don't like him," he says finally.
She blinks, trying to think of what to say to that. "He did explain what happened with his wife. You can't hate him because of that."
"I don't hate him - he's not worth wasting my time on. I don't like him because he doesn't like me," Kurt says. "Even before Mrs. Schue decided you were the key to motherhood, Mr. Schue decided I wasn't worth his attention."
"Kurt-"
He cuts her off. "Don't try to tell me I'm paranoid. Mr. Schue has deluded himself into thinking he's the next coming of Jaime Escalante, but he's a fake. He chooses favorites, which is fine, but I don't want to have to pretend that he's the teacher that's going to shape my life. He just happens to be in charge of my favorite club."
"He's always been nice to me," she says weakly.
"Because he understands you," Kurt returns. "Mr. Schue gets how to handle students like you and Finn, and even Rachel, but he doesn't understand how to be there for those that really need to have a teacher take an interest. He hasn't given Artie a solo since Finn joined, and he has the best male voice in the club. He only gives Mercedes the harmonies and not the lead, and the only solo he's given Tina is one that is ill-suited for her voice."
"Are you sure you're not mad at him because he hasn't given you a solo?"
Kurt buffs his nails on his sleeve, still not meeting her eyes. "I was for a while." He pauses for a long moment, like he is internally debating if he is going to finish his thought. "But having a solo isn't one of my major concerns anymore."
"Oh."
"Oh, indeed. These petty little school political plays suddenly mean a hell of a lot less when you have a child on the way," he says. "I'm going to be an adult. So no, I don't like Mr. Schue, but it's not the end of the world."
"Then why wouldn't you let him apologize?"
"Because I have the right to be angry that his wife tried to steal our child," he says. "If I wasn't involved, what would you have told her?"
Quinn likes to think she would have told Terri to shove it, but she doesn't know that for sure. The fact that she'd gone to Kurt first, before telling Terri off, forces her to wonder.
She doesn't need to speak for Kurt to understand her uncertainty. "Exactly," he murmurs. "Mr. Schue doesn't really get it. He thinks a sympathy play for his sick wife will make things all better. But this isn't something that can be fixed by a simple apology. He doesn't really understand that Terri's actions are a horrible violation against us both. And if he's not willing to really think about why I'm so angry at him, then he's not worth forgiving."
"Everyone deserves forgiveness," Quinn says, because she desperately wants that to be the truth. "Staying angry just because you can isn't going to make things better."
"Right now, my anger is all I have," Kurt says, glancing away from her. "If I stop being angry, I would only allow myself to be hurt."
"Kurt..." She doesn't know what to say, because she knows that letting go of her own anger at the sheer unfairness of this situation would send her into pieces too small to put back together. She's not going to be a hypocrite. "Can you at least tone down on the hostility? It's going to make school even worse if you maintain a vendetta against our Glee Club adviser."
He sets his jaw, his eyes flashing. Quinn braces herself for the rejection, but is pleasantly surprised when he agrees, "Fine. I'm not about to trust him, but I'll try to keep from saying anything mean to him."
Some of the tension that's been winding across her shoulder lifts, and she is happy. It's strange, as she sits next to him on the stage, but she's comfortable with him. Kurt might be abrasive, but he's always doing his best to make things easier for Quinn, even when he doesn't like it. She knows it's because of the child she's carrying, but she wants to let him go on protecting her. She presses her hand against her stomach, which is still flat although a touch harder than it used to be.
And like that, she makes up her mind.
"Thank you," she whispers. "Kurt?"
He turns his head, cocking his head curiously.
"Do you still want to get married?"
His mouth opens slightly in surprise, but then he nods. "Are you accepting?"
Her throat feels like someone has stuffed it full of cotton, and it's hard to breathe. But she nods, since she can't find the words to speak.
Kurt doesn't smile. He doesn't try to touch her, or show any kind of gratitude that she's agreeing to his seriously fucked up plan. Instead he rises to his feet. "It'll take a couple weeks to pull together, but I think we can get things together pretty quickly."
"We don't need to have a ceremony," she says, not thinking before she speaks.
Something flashes in his eyes. "You don't want one?"
Quinn's always wanted a big white wedding, the kind that takes years to plan. She grew up on Disney films and happily ever afters, and getting married has always been one of her main goals in life. But while she knows Kurt is going to be an excellent husband, he's not going to be her prince. She doesn't want to tarnish her childhood daydreams with a farce.
"Do we really need one?" she asks. "We're not getting married because we're in love, and it doesn't make sense to pretend otherwise."
"I see," he says. "That should make things simpler."
She doesn't know why, but she feels like she's just let him down.
by aishuu
Fandom: Glee
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Kurt/Quinn
Wordcount: 1,700 (this section)
Warnings: Topics covered include teen pregnancy, sexuality/gender identity, abortion, discussion of the rape... nothing graphic, though.
Spoilers: Season 1, some Season 2 and 3 influences on characterization but nothing concrete.
Notes: It lives! Better a short update than no update.
Summary: How the series might have gone if Kurt was Quinn's baby daddy. Some romances don't fit into any box.
Quinn doesn't like it when a guy speaks for her. She likes being a part of a couple, but one of the reasons Finn had been her ideal boyfriend was that he understood "we" really meant "Quinn," and that he shouldn't use it unless he was sure Quinn would approve.
Kurt does not seem to get this. Sometimes he's very considerate of making sure she is having her opinion considered, but right now he's being a stubborn asshole. She can understand that he's angry, but it wasn't Mr. Schue's fault. They have more than enough problems to contend with than wanting a vendetta against a teacher who's always been nice to them.
She knows Kurt doesn't want her to make a scene, even though she really wants to tear into him. She wants to scream at him for being an idiot, but doing so in front of the rest of the school isn't going to help them avoid the slushie brigade.
She looks at the late pass and realizes that Mr. Schue neglected to put a time or date on them, making them better than a Golden Ticket. She links her arm through Kurt's, who goes rigid at the unexpected contact. "Let's go to the auditorium and have a little talk," she says, smiling pleasantly for the sake of the couple of kids who are loitering in the hall.
He gave her a suspicious look. "You spend way too much time trying to cut classes for an honor roll student."
"High honor roll, thank you. And we need to have a talk, and it's either going to be in private, or I'll be forced to demonstrate how good I am at making a scene," she replies sweetly.
Kurt rolls his eyes, but shifts course so they're on the way to the auditorium. Ever since Principal Figgins cut the school's drama department, the auditorium remains mostly empty during the school day. Aside from the occasional Glee club practice, the most use the place sees is from truant students, looking for a good place to make out.
Quinn certainly isn't interested in that, but knows that Kurt feels comfortable in this room. Giving him the home field advantage might help relax him enough so he actually listens to her, rather than giving her a stream of sarcastic oneliners. At school, Kurt's always got his protective armor on, and she doesn't want to try to fight through it.
They sit on the edge of the stage, which only has a couple of the overhead lights on. Despite the large room, it feels strangely intimate. "I'm really mad at you," she says, deciding to speak to him instead of yelling in his face. "Why were you so mean to Mr. Schue?"
He shifts a bit, studying his nails like he's contemplating whipping out his nail file. "I don't like him," he says finally.
She blinks, trying to think of what to say to that. "He did explain what happened with his wife. You can't hate him because of that."
"I don't hate him - he's not worth wasting my time on. I don't like him because he doesn't like me," Kurt says. "Even before Mrs. Schue decided you were the key to motherhood, Mr. Schue decided I wasn't worth his attention."
"Kurt-"
He cuts her off. "Don't try to tell me I'm paranoid. Mr. Schue has deluded himself into thinking he's the next coming of Jaime Escalante, but he's a fake. He chooses favorites, which is fine, but I don't want to have to pretend that he's the teacher that's going to shape my life. He just happens to be in charge of my favorite club."
"He's always been nice to me," she says weakly.
"Because he understands you," Kurt returns. "Mr. Schue gets how to handle students like you and Finn, and even Rachel, but he doesn't understand how to be there for those that really need to have a teacher take an interest. He hasn't given Artie a solo since Finn joined, and he has the best male voice in the club. He only gives Mercedes the harmonies and not the lead, and the only solo he's given Tina is one that is ill-suited for her voice."
"Are you sure you're not mad at him because he hasn't given you a solo?"
Kurt buffs his nails on his sleeve, still not meeting her eyes. "I was for a while." He pauses for a long moment, like he is internally debating if he is going to finish his thought. "But having a solo isn't one of my major concerns anymore."
"Oh."
"Oh, indeed. These petty little school political plays suddenly mean a hell of a lot less when you have a child on the way," he says. "I'm going to be an adult. So no, I don't like Mr. Schue, but it's not the end of the world."
"Then why wouldn't you let him apologize?"
"Because I have the right to be angry that his wife tried to steal our child," he says. "If I wasn't involved, what would you have told her?"
Quinn likes to think she would have told Terri to shove it, but she doesn't know that for sure. The fact that she'd gone to Kurt first, before telling Terri off, forces her to wonder.
She doesn't need to speak for Kurt to understand her uncertainty. "Exactly," he murmurs. "Mr. Schue doesn't really get it. He thinks a sympathy play for his sick wife will make things all better. But this isn't something that can be fixed by a simple apology. He doesn't really understand that Terri's actions are a horrible violation against us both. And if he's not willing to really think about why I'm so angry at him, then he's not worth forgiving."
"Everyone deserves forgiveness," Quinn says, because she desperately wants that to be the truth. "Staying angry just because you can isn't going to make things better."
"Right now, my anger is all I have," Kurt says, glancing away from her. "If I stop being angry, I would only allow myself to be hurt."
"Kurt..." She doesn't know what to say, because she knows that letting go of her own anger at the sheer unfairness of this situation would send her into pieces too small to put back together. She's not going to be a hypocrite. "Can you at least tone down on the hostility? It's going to make school even worse if you maintain a vendetta against our Glee Club adviser."
He sets his jaw, his eyes flashing. Quinn braces herself for the rejection, but is pleasantly surprised when he agrees, "Fine. I'm not about to trust him, but I'll try to keep from saying anything mean to him."
Some of the tension that's been winding across her shoulder lifts, and she is happy. It's strange, as she sits next to him on the stage, but she's comfortable with him. Kurt might be abrasive, but he's always doing his best to make things easier for Quinn, even when he doesn't like it. She knows it's because of the child she's carrying, but she wants to let him go on protecting her. She presses her hand against her stomach, which is still flat although a touch harder than it used to be.
And like that, she makes up her mind.
"Thank you," she whispers. "Kurt?"
He turns his head, cocking his head curiously.
"Do you still want to get married?"
His mouth opens slightly in surprise, but then he nods. "Are you accepting?"
Her throat feels like someone has stuffed it full of cotton, and it's hard to breathe. But she nods, since she can't find the words to speak.
Kurt doesn't smile. He doesn't try to touch her, or show any kind of gratitude that she's agreeing to his seriously fucked up plan. Instead he rises to his feet. "It'll take a couple weeks to pull together, but I think we can get things together pretty quickly."
"We don't need to have a ceremony," she says, not thinking before she speaks.
Something flashes in his eyes. "You don't want one?"
Quinn's always wanted a big white wedding, the kind that takes years to plan. She grew up on Disney films and happily ever afters, and getting married has always been one of her main goals in life. But while she knows Kurt is going to be an excellent husband, he's not going to be her prince. She doesn't want to tarnish her childhood daydreams with a farce.
"Do we really need one?" she asks. "We're not getting married because we're in love, and it doesn't make sense to pretend otherwise."
"I see," he says. "That should make things simpler."
She doesn't know why, but she feels like she's just let him down.