Project for Improvement [4→5]
Title: Project for Improvement
Author:
rainbombz
Rating: PG-13 at the moment.
Length: ~11000
Spoilers: Almost entirely AU, so there shouldn't be any.
Summary: Quinn Fabray is a pokémon trainer throwing herself into battles to hide from the fact that she has no friends; Rachel Berry is determined to show her that there is more to life than fighting.
A/N: It's been a year since this was updated. Wow. I don't really know what to say, except that I hope that you're still interested in reading it. Feel free to leave a comment if you're: happy about my return/angry with me and prepared to leave abuse/reading for the first time and completely unaware of my absence. Thank you!
Since spending time with Rachel, Quinn found that her usual pass times bored her. The GameCube in her room served as very little distraction from the emptiness she felt without having a person around, her computer likewise. Even playing with Luxray, her best friend, didn't bring the same joy it had two days before. Which was how she ended up lying on her bed, her pokémon nuzzled into her chest as she thought back on today's and the previous day's events.
It was unreal that she could feel so attached to someone so quickly - particularly someone that she had been unwilling to talk to in the first place. She supposed it was because it was new - having someone to talk to, someone to care what she had to say and what she did. That had to be it. It absolutely, one-hundred-percent was not because she had a crush on her. That was even more ridiculous than just wanting to be her friend after a day.
"Ridiculous," the blonde muttered aloud, causing Luxray to cock his head up at her curiously, "Totally ridiculous." It was so damn ridiculous, that Quinn was almost tempted to ignore her phone when it jingled a familiar pop rock tune - almost.
"Hello?" she answered, a little breathless from rushing to catch the PokéGear on its final ring.
"Quinn?" the brunette on the other end questioned, "You sound a little…busy?" She chose not to mention that the other girl's heavy breathing did funny things to her stomach.
"Busy? Me? Nope, never busy," Quinn flinched at her ability to make herself sound friendless with the simplest of statements - but then, she was friendless. To her delight, however, her words brought a small tinkle of laughter from the person on the line and Quinn felt her feeling of stupidity alleviate instantly.
"Well, you are now," Rachel assured her, "I'll be at your house in an hour, okay?"
The blonde nodded, before remembering how a phone worked. "Yes," she grinned, "yeah, that's fine."
"Good," the singer said, and Quinn could practically hear the face-splitting smile she always wore through the phone, "Bye, Quinn."
"Bye," Quinn reiterated, unable to keep the goofy grin off of her face. Yes, she was going to like this friend thing. She was sure of it.
And for the next week, like it she did. She found that they were spending every minute together that they could, and Quinn was loving every second of it - she got the impression that Rachel did too. However, she wasn't loving it so much that she didn't grudge being forced into Contest Club.
"It will be fun, Quinn, you'll see!" Rachel said excitedly, and for a split second the rebellious teen almost found her enthusiasm infectious. Then she remembered she was attending Contest Club. Other people seemed surprised by this development too - silence enveloped the room as everyone, bar Rachel, turned to stare when they realised that the blonde was still in their midst.
It was Mr Schuester who broke it: "Well…glad you could join us, Quinn!" The teenager was wary, but his smile seemed genuine, and it was soon followed by those of the other club members and their assorted greetings. This brought about her own smile, which in turn widened Rachel's - maybe, just maybe, she could like it here.
After that, people's attention turned away and Quinn instantly felt more at ease - that didn't stop Rachel's fingers slipping gently in between her own and giving a gentle squeeze. This was the third or fourth time the brunette had done so and Quinn still felt her heart race and her palms begin to get sweaty. It was because she wasn't used to the contact. That was all.
Their hands stayed intertwined until Mr Schuester called for someone to demonstrate something new their pokémon had learned, and Rachel jumped quickly to her feet. A few people rolled their eyes good-naturedly, and she beamed at them.
"Uh, this one is Skitty's favourite," Rachel said finally, uncharacteristically shyly, "So I hope you like it." Glancing around, Quinn noticed that she wasn't the only one thrown off by the star's nervousness.
"And you say, go slow - I fall behind," the brunette sang softly, and although she was doing so for the cat pokémon in the centre of the room to dance, Quinn couldn't help but wonder if there was a special message in there for her. "The drum beats out of time." Or maybe she was just thinking too hard.
For the rest of the song, she manages to force herself to hear nothing but the music, Rachel's lilting voice creating beautifully simple melodies in a room that is otherwise silent.
When the song has ended, and both Skitty and her owner have taken a small bow, Rachel takes her seat next to Quinn to scattered applause. Grinning, the blonde leant in to whisper in her ear, "You're a beautiful singer." Rachel's cheeks flushed scarlet, and Quinn feels a strange sense of pride as she turns back to the makeshift stage in the middle of the class.
"Splash," the blonde now doing her own demonstration called out, making her fish pokémon flounder and flail uselessly. "Splash!" People begin to clap politely, and Quinn glances round incredulously - really?
"Wait," the girl told them, dopey smile in place, "I have more." And she did have more - five more magikarp doing the same stupid move. After ten minutes, Quinn could no longer hold back her growl of frustration and it did not go unnoticed - most people in the room smiled knowingly (it had been their first time too, once upon a time) but one dangerous looking Latina glared across from her seat at a desk across the room while the current performer's lip trembled.
"Oh my god," Rachel muttered under her breath, "You made Brittany cry. You are so, so dead."
"What, is she going to set her magikarp on me?" Quinn asked scathingly, at normal volume. There is a deathly silence over the room, and even the blonde can tell that she's taken this (whatever "this" is) too far.
"No," the latina growls, standing up and staring coldly at the newcomer, "I'm going to kill you."
"Santana, she didn't mean it!" Rachel tried to intervene, to protect her friend, but the girl shook her head.
"She did."
Quinn shrugged, and admitted to the room, "Yeah, I did."
Things happened quickly after that, and before Quinn knew it she could feel the trickle of blood streaming down from her nose. "Ow!" she cried out incredulously, and made to swing her own fist back but it was caught by none other than Rachel Berry.
"Let's go, Quinn," the brunette said, her tone and expression unreadable.
"But-"
"Let's go."
From the fact that it was taking three people to hold back an angry Santana on the other side of the classroom, Quinn decided that it was probably best to do as she was told on this occasion. For the first time, there was a tense and awkward silence between the pair as they walked and Quinn bit her lip nervously, stealing glances at a girl who refused to look at her.
"You're mad at me, aren't you?" the blonde asked sadly, and Rachel instantly felt bad for her coldness when she noted the look Quinn was sporting - it was reminiscent of a kicked puppy.
"Yes. No. I-" the singer sighed exasperatedly, "You can't talk to people like that, Quinn."
"Why not?" her companion asked defensively, causing the brunette to sigh again. It was like talking to a five year old.
"Because- Because you just can't!"
Quinn's face fell. "You are mad at me."
Rachel sighed again, and shook her head vehemently. "No, I'm not mad at you." The blonde's face lit up. "But, I am disappointed in you." Her features promptly fell again. The words made a strange, clawing feeling build up in her chest painfully - was that…guilt? Quinn wasn't sure. She wasn't certain it was something she'd felt before.
"Don't pull that face," the singer chastised , quickly noticing the pout that had settled itself on Quinn. "Go home, and I'll come to your house later. Okay?"
The other teenager nodded her agreement. Yes. She had to redeem herself, she had to. Her world would feel empty until she had. Wheels were already turning in her mind as to how she could fix her relationship with Rachel…Relationship? Quinn's mind didn't even want to go there. Not yet. She didn't know if it ever would.
When Rachel arrived at the Fabray home, she found her visit to be much less eventful than the last one. There was no run-in with the older Fabrays, no sign of withdrawal from Quinn and no more palpable tension between them. What little there had been was worn away by the hours that they spent apart.
As they walked along the riverbank, a tradition in the making, Quinn voiced the question that had been running through her mind since Contest Club. "The latina…what's her name?"
"Santana," Rachel filled in helpfully so that the other girl could finish her enquiry.
"Right, Santana. Why did she get so mad about that dumb chick anyway?"
"Quinn, her name is Brittany," Rachel scolded, but the blonde found that she didn't mind - the way that the other girl mothered her was…endearing, she supposed.
"Brittany," the trainer corrected herself, purely to appease her friend, "why did she get so mad about Brittany?"
Rachel laughed, a sound that brought a horde of tiny butterflies to Quinn's stomach. "You honestly can't tell?" Seeing that the other girl looked confused, the brunette laughed further. She honestly couldn't tell. "They're together."
"Together?" Quinn repeated incredulously, "As in, together together? Is everyone in that damn school gay?"
Rachel shrugged with a sheepish smile, "Some of us."
It wasn't until Quinn got home that she realised what that meant.
Quinn's mind was reeling as she tore through her wardrobe, disregarding item after item even more harshly than she had the first time she had gone out with Rachel. "Gone out". Quinn snorted. She fucking wishes. Oh, god, she actually wishes. What the hell had gotten into her in the past few days? What was that perfect little princess of a pokémon trainer doing to her? She had…what was the platonic term? Hung out. She had hung out with Rachel Berry. Nothing more. Not ever anything more.
Still, there was no harm in…thinking about it. Was there? Of course not. With a sigh, the blonde reminded herself that that was exactly how she had felt about looking, and look where that had gotten her. A crush on the best friend she had never had. There was no denying it. Not anymore. Quinn Fabray was a lesbian. Whether she liked or not.
Not so long ago, she would have opted for "not" - but things were changing now. It was fast, and it was scary - god, it was fucking terrifying - but it was freeing , like a sudden but silent empowerment: the tall gangly guy, the latina bitch and the dumb chick from the hell that was Contest Club. All gay. Not to mention Rachel. Rachel. Well, so it was inferred. Quinn didn't really know for sure. She didn't even know if she wanted to. The star "batting for her team" (a phrase she had heard on the few lesbian shows she got away with watching in the secrecy of the night while her parents slept unawares) was something that made Quinn almost inconceivably happy and sad.
Yes, it meant that in theory, she had a chance - but that was the mistake that everyone in the world with no experience made, wasn't it? If two people are lesbians they must work as a couple, because they have that in common. Quinn was one of the few inexperienced homosexuals who knew better than that. Two straight people didn't automatically fall in love, did they? It was all about the people. In this case, it was all about Quinn. That fact just shot all her chances to hell.
Who, in their right mind, would take an interest in a girl with no friends? A fucked up family? A girl who had taken every one of their attempts at kindness and thrown them back in their fucking face? Not Quinn. That meant not Rachel either. The young trainer slammed her wardrobe doors in disgust, turning and sliding down them into a slumped heap on the floor. With her head in her hands, she let a few tears escape her eyes for the first time in a long time. Who was she kidding? She had nothing to offer Rachel. Nothing. She was lucky the diva wanted to be her friend.
After drying her eyes with the bottom of her shirt, Quinn let out a frustrated breath and leaned back so that her head hit the doors with a resounding clunk. She was lucky and it was time to start acting like it.
Just as the teenager finished pulling a clean hoodie over her head, she heard the tell-tale rhythm that meant her new friend was at the door. A glance at her watch revealed that the visitor was five minutes early, but she didn't mind. She would treasure the extra time as though it was her very last on earth.
"Hi," Quinn greeted the brunette as the door swung open, hoping that her previously piteous mood wasn't evident in her tone. She stepped out of the house quickly, closing the heavy oak equally so. The last thing she wanted was for her parents to make things more awkward than they already were. "Walk with me?" Without waiting for a response, Quinn took off - her feet worked with little thought, leading her towards the same river they had spent the every night previous week lying alongside. Had it really only been a week? How quickly things changed. For someone like Quinn, someone who was used to the same constant routine, it was quite disconcerting. Almost cripplingly so. How was she supposed to know how to feel about her feelings for Rachel when she didn't even know how to feel?
"I-" the teenager began but stopped abruptly, walking the next few steps in obstinate silence. Her eyes flickered over to her companion, whose own brown eyes were just looking at her with a puzzled expression, her brow furrowed. It was adorable really, but that was the last thing Quinn wanted to focus on. Realising that Rachel would say nothing until she finished her statement, the blonde swallowed nervously and then continued. "I'm sorry."
The words felt strange. She couldn't recall ever saying them before, and she wasn't sure she liked the feeling. It seemed to grip her chest, squeezing her heart in a vicelike hold until her crush found the words to say. As it turned out, the beaming grin she received eased the pressure just as well. "Quinn!" the girl squealed, wrapping her arms around the blonde's waist. "I'm so proud of you."
The exclamation made her feel the tiniest bit foolish. Was she really such a lost cause that people were proud of her for performing basic human interactions? Apparently so. For a moment, she let herself get lost in the warmth of the singer's hug. If that was the price of this, well, she could deal with that.
From there, their relationship seemed to instantly fall back to where it had soared over the past eight days of quality time they had spent. They laughed, they joked and, once they reached their special spot, tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs and talked. Talked about everything and nothing at all. It was something that Quinn was slowly growing used to experiencing - someone being interested, and caring what she had to say. The first few times, it had struck her as strange; surreal. Now, she took it in her stride, enjoying sharing her deepest darkest secrets (of which there were few, given her limited experience of the world) with the other girl. There was just one that Quinn wasn't sure how to broach - and Rachel could tell.
"Spill."
"What? I'm not drinking anything," Quinn said, looking suitably bemused. It caused Rachel to laugh heartily, and again the blonde felt torn between feeling glad that she could make the other girl so happy and disheartened that it was at her own expense.
"No, Quinn. Spill. As in, tell me what you're thinking about," came the explanation, once all giggles had subsided.
"Oh. Nothing."
"Quinn." All hint of merriment gone, Rachel raised a hand and brought it to the shoulder of the girl who lay opposite her. "I can tell you're worried about something, and that makes me worried about you. Please tell me?" The older trainer sighed. It was now or never.
"What do normal people do when they have a crush on someone?"
Rachel was so taken aback by the question that she didn't know which part she should tackle first. After a second, she decided she would start with the one that made her feel the most guilty but the least awful. "Quinn, you are a normal person."
The blonde gave a harsh laugh. "No. No I'm not."
"You ar-"
"No, I'm not!" For the first time since the awkward start to their friendship, Quinn snapped at the other girl with nothing short of pure, unadulterated aggression. She abruptly rolled onto her back, both because she couldn't stand to see the hurt in her friend's eyes and because she didn't want Rachel to see the tears beginning to well in hers'. When her she spoke again, her voice was softer but held the same definitive, but dejected, conviction. "I'm a freak."
The brunette reached out to pull the broken girl into her arms but was forced to stop when she saw the girl flinch as though she was about to be hit. "Quinn…" Rachel tailed off. She had no idea what to say. None whatsoever. Her classmate was obviously hurting so much, and she had never seen it before. She had never thought about how much every rejection in the girl's life must have crushed her. Crushed every part of her. Oh god.
The diva could feel tears spill over and roll down her cheeks, but there was no time to focus on her own despair. That was what she had been doing all her life. Had Quinn really held up such a perfect wall that she seemed not to care a bit about being ostracised, or had none of them looked hard enough? Goddamnit, she was such an idiot. "Quinn, come here." This time, no effort was made to prevent Rachel from scooping her into her arms - instead the blonde threw her arms around her best friend and buried her face into her neck. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I'm so sorry." The older girl didn't have to ask why.
Once Rachel was finally confident it was safe to do so, with Quinn's sobs having mellowed into soft breaths that tickled the skin of her neck in a surprisingly pleasant way, she stopped the gentle circles she was tracing on the girl's back with her palm and pulled away to look into her eyes. "Why were you so worried about some little crush, hm?"
It took a moment for Quinn to respond, and when she did Rachel's sympathy grew even further - and her guilt, knowing that how the blonde had turned out was down to herself and her peers. Her parents, of course, were also to blame - but the pokémon academy's pupils could have made it better. They could have made her life better, they could have showed her the beautiful things in life. Instead, Quinn had spent seventeen years all alone and it broke Rachel's heart.
"It's more than a little crush," the would-be pokémon master admitted. "I really really like her."
"Her?" Rachel cocked an eyebrow coolly on the outside while inside her heart beat rapidly against her ribcage. "Who's the lucky girl then?"
"Just this girl," Quinn remarked flippantly, "but it doesn't matter. She'd never be with someone like me. She's really something. Everyone likes her - she could choose anyone in Lima. Hell, anyone in Ohio. Why would she want me?"
"Why wouldn't she want you?" Rachel asked, freeing a hand from their embrace to tuck some blonde hair behind her friend's ear. "You're smart. You're funny." She paused. "You're beautiful. Any girl would be lucky to have you."
"Didn't you hear me?" the other trainer asked sadly. "She could have anyone."
"Why would she want anyone when she could have you?"
Slowly, Quinn's eyes rose to meet Rachel's. "You mean that?" For once, her voice was timid and unsure.
"Of course I do. She'd have to be really high maintenance not to think you're everything she could ever need."
Quinn laughed a little, the first sign of happiness she'd given since the evening's slight turn for the worse. "She is a little high maintenance, I think - but it's kind of cute."
Rachel smiled sadly at the true feelings her friend seemed to have for this other girl. She wanted Quinn to be happy…she just really wanted her to be happy with her. "You should just ask her, you know. What's the worst that's going to happen if she doesn't like you too?"
"I'll lose everything."
"Just try," Rachel urged. "That's what most," she pointedly avoided the word normal, "people would do. Kiss her."
The next thing Rachel felt were soft lips on hers'.
Author:
rainbombz
Rating: PG-13 at the moment.
Length: ~11000
Spoilers: Almost entirely AU, so there shouldn't be any.
Summary: Quinn Fabray is a pokémon trainer throwing herself into battles to hide from the fact that she has no friends; Rachel Berry is determined to show her that there is more to life than fighting.
A/N: It's been a year since this was updated. Wow. I don't really know what to say, except that I hope that you're still interested in reading it. Feel free to leave a comment if you're: happy about my return/angry with me and prepared to leave abuse/reading for the first time and completely unaware of my absence. Thank you!
Since spending time with Rachel, Quinn found that her usual pass times bored her. The GameCube in her room served as very little distraction from the emptiness she felt without having a person around, her computer likewise. Even playing with Luxray, her best friend, didn't bring the same joy it had two days before. Which was how she ended up lying on her bed, her pokémon nuzzled into her chest as she thought back on today's and the previous day's events.
It was unreal that she could feel so attached to someone so quickly - particularly someone that she had been unwilling to talk to in the first place. She supposed it was because it was new - having someone to talk to, someone to care what she had to say and what she did. That had to be it. It absolutely, one-hundred-percent was not because she had a crush on her. That was even more ridiculous than just wanting to be her friend after a day.
"Ridiculous," the blonde muttered aloud, causing Luxray to cock his head up at her curiously, "Totally ridiculous." It was so damn ridiculous, that Quinn was almost tempted to ignore her phone when it jingled a familiar pop rock tune - almost.
"Hello?" she answered, a little breathless from rushing to catch the PokéGear on its final ring.
"Quinn?" the brunette on the other end questioned, "You sound a little…busy?" She chose not to mention that the other girl's heavy breathing did funny things to her stomach.
"Busy? Me? Nope, never busy," Quinn flinched at her ability to make herself sound friendless with the simplest of statements - but then, she was friendless. To her delight, however, her words brought a small tinkle of laughter from the person on the line and Quinn felt her feeling of stupidity alleviate instantly.
"Well, you are now," Rachel assured her, "I'll be at your house in an hour, okay?"
The blonde nodded, before remembering how a phone worked. "Yes," she grinned, "yeah, that's fine."
"Good," the singer said, and Quinn could practically hear the face-splitting smile she always wore through the phone, "Bye, Quinn."
"Bye," Quinn reiterated, unable to keep the goofy grin off of her face. Yes, she was going to like this friend thing. She was sure of it.
And for the next week, like it she did. She found that they were spending every minute together that they could, and Quinn was loving every second of it - she got the impression that Rachel did too. However, she wasn't loving it so much that she didn't grudge being forced into Contest Club.
"It will be fun, Quinn, you'll see!" Rachel said excitedly, and for a split second the rebellious teen almost found her enthusiasm infectious. Then she remembered she was attending Contest Club. Other people seemed surprised by this development too - silence enveloped the room as everyone, bar Rachel, turned to stare when they realised that the blonde was still in their midst.
It was Mr Schuester who broke it: "Well…glad you could join us, Quinn!" The teenager was wary, but his smile seemed genuine, and it was soon followed by those of the other club members and their assorted greetings. This brought about her own smile, which in turn widened Rachel's - maybe, just maybe, she could like it here.
After that, people's attention turned away and Quinn instantly felt more at ease - that didn't stop Rachel's fingers slipping gently in between her own and giving a gentle squeeze. This was the third or fourth time the brunette had done so and Quinn still felt her heart race and her palms begin to get sweaty. It was because she wasn't used to the contact. That was all.
Their hands stayed intertwined until Mr Schuester called for someone to demonstrate something new their pokémon had learned, and Rachel jumped quickly to her feet. A few people rolled their eyes good-naturedly, and she beamed at them.
"Uh, this one is Skitty's favourite," Rachel said finally, uncharacteristically shyly, "So I hope you like it." Glancing around, Quinn noticed that she wasn't the only one thrown off by the star's nervousness.
"And you say, go slow - I fall behind," the brunette sang softly, and although she was doing so for the cat pokémon in the centre of the room to dance, Quinn couldn't help but wonder if there was a special message in there for her. "The drum beats out of time." Or maybe she was just thinking too hard.
For the rest of the song, she manages to force herself to hear nothing but the music, Rachel's lilting voice creating beautifully simple melodies in a room that is otherwise silent.
When the song has ended, and both Skitty and her owner have taken a small bow, Rachel takes her seat next to Quinn to scattered applause. Grinning, the blonde leant in to whisper in her ear, "You're a beautiful singer." Rachel's cheeks flushed scarlet, and Quinn feels a strange sense of pride as she turns back to the makeshift stage in the middle of the class.
"Splash," the blonde now doing her own demonstration called out, making her fish pokémon flounder and flail uselessly. "Splash!" People begin to clap politely, and Quinn glances round incredulously - really?
"Wait," the girl told them, dopey smile in place, "I have more." And she did have more - five more magikarp doing the same stupid move. After ten minutes, Quinn could no longer hold back her growl of frustration and it did not go unnoticed - most people in the room smiled knowingly (it had been their first time too, once upon a time) but one dangerous looking Latina glared across from her seat at a desk across the room while the current performer's lip trembled.
"Oh my god," Rachel muttered under her breath, "You made Brittany cry. You are so, so dead."
"What, is she going to set her magikarp on me?" Quinn asked scathingly, at normal volume. There is a deathly silence over the room, and even the blonde can tell that she's taken this (whatever "this" is) too far.
"No," the latina growls, standing up and staring coldly at the newcomer, "I'm going to kill you."
"Santana, she didn't mean it!" Rachel tried to intervene, to protect her friend, but the girl shook her head.
"She did."
Quinn shrugged, and admitted to the room, "Yeah, I did."
Things happened quickly after that, and before Quinn knew it she could feel the trickle of blood streaming down from her nose. "Ow!" she cried out incredulously, and made to swing her own fist back but it was caught by none other than Rachel Berry.
"Let's go, Quinn," the brunette said, her tone and expression unreadable.
"But-"
"Let's go."
From the fact that it was taking three people to hold back an angry Santana on the other side of the classroom, Quinn decided that it was probably best to do as she was told on this occasion. For the first time, there was a tense and awkward silence between the pair as they walked and Quinn bit her lip nervously, stealing glances at a girl who refused to look at her.
"You're mad at me, aren't you?" the blonde asked sadly, and Rachel instantly felt bad for her coldness when she noted the look Quinn was sporting - it was reminiscent of a kicked puppy.
"Yes. No. I-" the singer sighed exasperatedly, "You can't talk to people like that, Quinn."
"Why not?" her companion asked defensively, causing the brunette to sigh again. It was like talking to a five year old.
"Because- Because you just can't!"
Quinn's face fell. "You are mad at me."
Rachel sighed again, and shook her head vehemently. "No, I'm not mad at you." The blonde's face lit up. "But, I am disappointed in you." Her features promptly fell again. The words made a strange, clawing feeling build up in her chest painfully - was that…guilt? Quinn wasn't sure. She wasn't certain it was something she'd felt before.
"Don't pull that face," the singer chastised , quickly noticing the pout that had settled itself on Quinn. "Go home, and I'll come to your house later. Okay?"
The other teenager nodded her agreement. Yes. She had to redeem herself, she had to. Her world would feel empty until she had. Wheels were already turning in her mind as to how she could fix her relationship with Rachel…Relationship? Quinn's mind didn't even want to go there. Not yet. She didn't know if it ever would.
When Rachel arrived at the Fabray home, she found her visit to be much less eventful than the last one. There was no run-in with the older Fabrays, no sign of withdrawal from Quinn and no more palpable tension between them. What little there had been was worn away by the hours that they spent apart.
As they walked along the riverbank, a tradition in the making, Quinn voiced the question that had been running through her mind since Contest Club. "The latina…what's her name?"
"Santana," Rachel filled in helpfully so that the other girl could finish her enquiry.
"Right, Santana. Why did she get so mad about that dumb chick anyway?"
"Quinn, her name is Brittany," Rachel scolded, but the blonde found that she didn't mind - the way that the other girl mothered her was…endearing, she supposed.
"Brittany," the trainer corrected herself, purely to appease her friend, "why did she get so mad about Brittany?"
Rachel laughed, a sound that brought a horde of tiny butterflies to Quinn's stomach. "You honestly can't tell?" Seeing that the other girl looked confused, the brunette laughed further. She honestly couldn't tell. "They're together."
"Together?" Quinn repeated incredulously, "As in, together together? Is everyone in that damn school gay?"
Rachel shrugged with a sheepish smile, "Some of us."
It wasn't until Quinn got home that she realised what that meant.
Quinn's mind was reeling as she tore through her wardrobe, disregarding item after item even more harshly than she had the first time she had gone out with Rachel. "Gone out". Quinn snorted. She fucking wishes. Oh, god, she actually wishes. What the hell had gotten into her in the past few days? What was that perfect little princess of a pokémon trainer doing to her? She had…what was the platonic term? Hung out. She had hung out with Rachel Berry. Nothing more. Not ever anything more.
Still, there was no harm in…thinking about it. Was there? Of course not. With a sigh, the blonde reminded herself that that was exactly how she had felt about looking, and look where that had gotten her. A crush on the best friend she had never had. There was no denying it. Not anymore. Quinn Fabray was a lesbian. Whether she liked or not.
Not so long ago, she would have opted for "not" - but things were changing now. It was fast, and it was scary - god, it was fucking terrifying - but it was freeing , like a sudden but silent empowerment: the tall gangly guy, the latina bitch and the dumb chick from the hell that was Contest Club. All gay. Not to mention Rachel. Rachel. Well, so it was inferred. Quinn didn't really know for sure. She didn't even know if she wanted to. The star "batting for her team" (a phrase she had heard on the few lesbian shows she got away with watching in the secrecy of the night while her parents slept unawares) was something that made Quinn almost inconceivably happy and sad.
Yes, it meant that in theory, she had a chance - but that was the mistake that everyone in the world with no experience made, wasn't it? If two people are lesbians they must work as a couple, because they have that in common. Quinn was one of the few inexperienced homosexuals who knew better than that. Two straight people didn't automatically fall in love, did they? It was all about the people. In this case, it was all about Quinn. That fact just shot all her chances to hell.
Who, in their right mind, would take an interest in a girl with no friends? A fucked up family? A girl who had taken every one of their attempts at kindness and thrown them back in their fucking face? Not Quinn. That meant not Rachel either. The young trainer slammed her wardrobe doors in disgust, turning and sliding down them into a slumped heap on the floor. With her head in her hands, she let a few tears escape her eyes for the first time in a long time. Who was she kidding? She had nothing to offer Rachel. Nothing. She was lucky the diva wanted to be her friend.
After drying her eyes with the bottom of her shirt, Quinn let out a frustrated breath and leaned back so that her head hit the doors with a resounding clunk. She was lucky and it was time to start acting like it.
Just as the teenager finished pulling a clean hoodie over her head, she heard the tell-tale rhythm that meant her new friend was at the door. A glance at her watch revealed that the visitor was five minutes early, but she didn't mind. She would treasure the extra time as though it was her very last on earth.
"Hi," Quinn greeted the brunette as the door swung open, hoping that her previously piteous mood wasn't evident in her tone. She stepped out of the house quickly, closing the heavy oak equally so. The last thing she wanted was for her parents to make things more awkward than they already were. "Walk with me?" Without waiting for a response, Quinn took off - her feet worked with little thought, leading her towards the same river they had spent the every night previous week lying alongside. Had it really only been a week? How quickly things changed. For someone like Quinn, someone who was used to the same constant routine, it was quite disconcerting. Almost cripplingly so. How was she supposed to know how to feel about her feelings for Rachel when she didn't even know how to feel?
"I-" the teenager began but stopped abruptly, walking the next few steps in obstinate silence. Her eyes flickered over to her companion, whose own brown eyes were just looking at her with a puzzled expression, her brow furrowed. It was adorable really, but that was the last thing Quinn wanted to focus on. Realising that Rachel would say nothing until she finished her statement, the blonde swallowed nervously and then continued. "I'm sorry."
The words felt strange. She couldn't recall ever saying them before, and she wasn't sure she liked the feeling. It seemed to grip her chest, squeezing her heart in a vicelike hold until her crush found the words to say. As it turned out, the beaming grin she received eased the pressure just as well. "Quinn!" the girl squealed, wrapping her arms around the blonde's waist. "I'm so proud of you."
The exclamation made her feel the tiniest bit foolish. Was she really such a lost cause that people were proud of her for performing basic human interactions? Apparently so. For a moment, she let herself get lost in the warmth of the singer's hug. If that was the price of this, well, she could deal with that.
From there, their relationship seemed to instantly fall back to where it had soared over the past eight days of quality time they had spent. They laughed, they joked and, once they reached their special spot, tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs and talked. Talked about everything and nothing at all. It was something that Quinn was slowly growing used to experiencing - someone being interested, and caring what she had to say. The first few times, it had struck her as strange; surreal. Now, she took it in her stride, enjoying sharing her deepest darkest secrets (of which there were few, given her limited experience of the world) with the other girl. There was just one that Quinn wasn't sure how to broach - and Rachel could tell.
"Spill."
"What? I'm not drinking anything," Quinn said, looking suitably bemused. It caused Rachel to laugh heartily, and again the blonde felt torn between feeling glad that she could make the other girl so happy and disheartened that it was at her own expense.
"No, Quinn. Spill. As in, tell me what you're thinking about," came the explanation, once all giggles had subsided.
"Oh. Nothing."
"Quinn." All hint of merriment gone, Rachel raised a hand and brought it to the shoulder of the girl who lay opposite her. "I can tell you're worried about something, and that makes me worried about you. Please tell me?" The older trainer sighed. It was now or never.
"What do normal people do when they have a crush on someone?"
Rachel was so taken aback by the question that she didn't know which part she should tackle first. After a second, she decided she would start with the one that made her feel the most guilty but the least awful. "Quinn, you are a normal person."
The blonde gave a harsh laugh. "No. No I'm not."
"You ar-"
"No, I'm not!" For the first time since the awkward start to their friendship, Quinn snapped at the other girl with nothing short of pure, unadulterated aggression. She abruptly rolled onto her back, both because she couldn't stand to see the hurt in her friend's eyes and because she didn't want Rachel to see the tears beginning to well in hers'. When her she spoke again, her voice was softer but held the same definitive, but dejected, conviction. "I'm a freak."
The brunette reached out to pull the broken girl into her arms but was forced to stop when she saw the girl flinch as though she was about to be hit. "Quinn…" Rachel tailed off. She had no idea what to say. None whatsoever. Her classmate was obviously hurting so much, and she had never seen it before. She had never thought about how much every rejection in the girl's life must have crushed her. Crushed every part of her. Oh god.
The diva could feel tears spill over and roll down her cheeks, but there was no time to focus on her own despair. That was what she had been doing all her life. Had Quinn really held up such a perfect wall that she seemed not to care a bit about being ostracised, or had none of them looked hard enough? Goddamnit, she was such an idiot. "Quinn, come here." This time, no effort was made to prevent Rachel from scooping her into her arms - instead the blonde threw her arms around her best friend and buried her face into her neck. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I'm so sorry." The older girl didn't have to ask why.
Once Rachel was finally confident it was safe to do so, with Quinn's sobs having mellowed into soft breaths that tickled the skin of her neck in a surprisingly pleasant way, she stopped the gentle circles she was tracing on the girl's back with her palm and pulled away to look into her eyes. "Why were you so worried about some little crush, hm?"
It took a moment for Quinn to respond, and when she did Rachel's sympathy grew even further - and her guilt, knowing that how the blonde had turned out was down to herself and her peers. Her parents, of course, were also to blame - but the pokémon academy's pupils could have made it better. They could have made her life better, they could have showed her the beautiful things in life. Instead, Quinn had spent seventeen years all alone and it broke Rachel's heart.
"It's more than a little crush," the would-be pokémon master admitted. "I really really like her."
"Her?" Rachel cocked an eyebrow coolly on the outside while inside her heart beat rapidly against her ribcage. "Who's the lucky girl then?"
"Just this girl," Quinn remarked flippantly, "but it doesn't matter. She'd never be with someone like me. She's really something. Everyone likes her - she could choose anyone in Lima. Hell, anyone in Ohio. Why would she want me?"
"Why wouldn't she want you?" Rachel asked, freeing a hand from their embrace to tuck some blonde hair behind her friend's ear. "You're smart. You're funny." She paused. "You're beautiful. Any girl would be lucky to have you."
"Didn't you hear me?" the other trainer asked sadly. "She could have anyone."
"Why would she want anyone when she could have you?"
Slowly, Quinn's eyes rose to meet Rachel's. "You mean that?" For once, her voice was timid and unsure.
"Of course I do. She'd have to be really high maintenance not to think you're everything she could ever need."
Quinn laughed a little, the first sign of happiness she'd given since the evening's slight turn for the worse. "She is a little high maintenance, I think - but it's kind of cute."
Rachel smiled sadly at the true feelings her friend seemed to have for this other girl. She wanted Quinn to be happy…she just really wanted her to be happy with her. "You should just ask her, you know. What's the worst that's going to happen if she doesn't like you too?"
"I'll lose everything."
"Just try," Rachel urged. "That's what most," she pointedly avoided the word normal, "people would do. Kiss her."
The next thing Rachel felt were soft lips on hers'.