fanfic: coming back down
Title: Coming Back Down
Author: Jocelyn
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG 13
Pairings: Rachel/Quinn. Puckleberry friendship.
Word Count: 3000ish
Warnings: Character death. Suspected/implied suicide.
Spoilers: Nothing I can think of.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Summary: In the aftermath, there's feelings to death with and time doesn't stop to wait.
A/N: Since I haven't updated You Were Sent Here in awhile, I decided to throw out this since I found it sitting on my USB. It's the original ending that I wrote for YWSH but I'm deciding on something else. Title comes from Hollywood Undead's Coming Back Down. Also, is it horrible that I want to spend an entire summer with the straight girl I'm crushing on? Probably.
Quinn Fabray's death is an accident, people say. A tragic accident. One horrible mistake. But no one can quite understand the pain of loosing Quinn like her friends. It didn't matter that sometimes they were enemies too. Lima is a small community and a majority of them pretend that they knew that pretty blonde girl but deep down, nobody really did. And maybe that's why she's gone.
She was such a sweet girl. My daughter adored her.
Lies amongst lies that the newspaper eagerly soaks up as news spreads of her death. People want their fifteen minutes of fame so badly that they forget about the whole reason they're getting it. Losing someone, losing her.
It's routine. Glee is a distant memory now. The choir room is too suffocating, a constant reminder of when the blonde use to sit in there with the rest of the Glee club members. The tension in the room is too much and Rachel finds herself skipping more often than not. Any other club she's joined or has a hand in forming has been put on the back burner as well.
Rachel finds it too hard to concentrate on insignificant things like singing and clubs and school when everything around her is a constant reminder that her dreams could be wiped away in a second (half of them were).
Her car rumbles its dissent as she pushes it a little faster. A thought strikes her that she could crash the car and it would be all over (almost over). She would be closer to Quinn if nothing else, but she doesn't allow herself to entertain that thought for long. It's a dangeous line and something she finds far too alluring. The silence in her car is disconcerting. She use to love music but now the tunes just remind her of nights when Quinn spent hour after hour indulging her musical tastes, smiling and just shaking her head fondly at Rachel's enthusiastic manner.
"Baby, just calm down."
"But how is it that you've never watched this musical before? Unacceptable. You will watch it this instant, Quinn Fabray."
Quinn would smile. That soft, unguarded smile she only shows to Rachel. "Alright, put it in."
Rachel knows the exact amount of time it takes to get from school to the cemetery where Quinn is buried. She stares at the clock sometimes with avid fascination because it gives her something else to do beside think. Thinking is too painful these days because sometimes she forgets that Quinn is...is gone. The sheets beside her still painfully smells like the blonde.
She knows how many steps it takes from her usual parking spot to the memorial stone - to where Quinn lies, broken, a sweet girl that nobody understood (too broken, too broken someone told her).
Rachel settles down on the recently trimmed grass. She leans forward to remove a couple of leaves that have landed on the marker before she leans back and just enjoys. Peace is a rare commodity but here, beauty is rampant in the silence.
"You're the prettiest girl I've ever met but you're more than that," Rachel says, eyes pleading with Quinn to understand that she loved her, without a doubt.
Everyone, to some extent, know something was going on between Rachel and Quinn before the...the unfortunate event but not the true extent. Only Noah, Brittany and Santana know. Ironically enough, her past tormentors have become her closest friends because they share common ground - Quinn.
Bitter, insane laughter spills from her lips because she knows that if she ever reveals the truth that no one will believe her and Rachel isn't ready to have her love for Quinn and Quinn for her to be ridiculed.
Puck wanders in after awhile. He stumbles, ungraceful, to crumple on the ground beside Rachel. She turns to look at him with a frown and he responds with an apologetic look. She sighs and helps him to readjust so he's sitting upright beside her, silent.
Puck is drunk most of the time now. Rachel doesn't approve of it but she knows and understand why he does it. Easier to numb the pain than to deal with the emotion of losing Quinn. The brunette can practically hear the disapproving noise of Quinn's voice at the thought of even considering it as an option. She can see the slight frown on her face as the blonde lectures her about the cons of drinking (read: unwanted pregnancies). Rachel cannot help but feel protected when Quinn is around. The blonde is always a little bit protective and a lot possessive. She chokes on the thought now (in the way she thinks that Quinn is still alive and that she'll never see the blonde again). The blonde isn't around to make her feel okay (or for her to try and make Quinn feel some semblance of alright).
"How you holding up, superstar?" Puck asks in a gruff voice as he takes another sip from the bottle he's holding. He's never been good with his emotions but he's trying a little bit because Rachel needs him. They all need each other now because he knows he's just another ticking time bomb.
"Fine," Rachel mutters in a monotone. She's curled in on herself, knees tucked closer to her body with her chin resting against the top of her knees and arms wrapped around her legs.
"Rach," Puck whispers softly, resting a heavy arm across her back.
"Don't," Rachel chokes out before Puck can start. It feels odd to have Puck care so much now. Sometimes, she wonders if it's the alcohol speaking or the regret of the baby drama.
"Come on, Rach," Puck whispers again, ignoring Rachel's protest as he pulls her closer. "Talk to me, girl."
"Talk to me, Rach," Quinn begs, tilting Rachel's head up so their eyes can meet. "Don't shut me out."
"No," she grits out and tries to throw his arm off but it stays laid out across her shoulders.
"You're feeling things," he says, his face contorts for a moment because he's feeling too many things too and so he takes another sip of his drink. "So let them out on the Puckster." He's looking for a smile on the brunette's face but there's nothing. He's unwittingly reminding Rachel of past conversations with Quinn.
"I'll keep them to myself, thank you very much, Noah."
"Can't do that forever, supernova."
"I can and will," Rachel bites out stubbornly, pushing him away. Anger is the closest she'll ever get to feeling again. This rage and constant hatred against the world - at Puck, at anyone that will take her fiery temper because the world took Quinn away far too early. Plus the two balanced each other out. Her natural flair for dramatics to Quinn's calm collective cool.
"Talk to me, Rach," Puck pleads.
She shakes her head and shuts him out.
Accidental overdose? Rachel scoffs. Quinn doesn't do accidental. Everything she does is precise to a T. This isn't any different. Quinn Fabray did it with a reason, one that nobody else could see (or everyone else decided to ignore).
"Just come hang out with the rest of us, okay?" Puck asks tentatively. "We're hurting too, babe."
"None of you understand," she says stubbornly, refusing. She doesn't understand too but she won't admit that, can't admit that for fear of realizing that she failed Quinn.
"Help us understand then," he pleads again, dropping the bottle on the ground, he steps closer and attempts to wrap her into his arms.
"I-I..." Rachel pauses before she violently pushes Puck away (sort of like how Quinn pushed her away the past couple weeks).
She storms away and Puck stumbles after her. The alcohol might have been getting to him a little bit. It's harder to walk after her and he wishes that she would just stand stationary so they can talk but he struggles on valiantly. He's not ready to lose her too. Not on his watch at least (he can't remember when he started caring).
"Fuck, Rachel," Puck shouts after her retreating form as he trips over a gravestone and barely stops himself from falling over. "I don't want to lose you too, okay? So tell me what the hell is going on," his voice softens. "I lost Quinn already."
"You lost Quinn?" Rachel asks coldly.
"Well," Puck backtracks as he tries to figure out why Rachel is suddenly angry at him (strangely enough, it doesn't strike him as odd anymore - Rachel is always angry at him now). "Yeah."
"I lost her. You were the one that..." Rachel throws her hands up in frustration. "You were the insensitive boy that got her pregnant."
"I was sorry, y'know?"
"Sorry won't bring her back."
"Yeah, well neither will you getting angry and your fucking constant yelling. Rach, babe, you're hurting everyone around you," Puck throws back and he waits with baited breath for Rachel to admonish him for his language.
"I don't care," Rachel confesses. She wants other people to hurt because it means that she isn't the only one hurting. Yes, Rachel indeed knows that everyone is hurting but it's not enough. The brunette wants to lash out because it's easier than thinking about the future.
Rachel doesn't know how to go on. Her life has become too intertwined with Quinn's. Rachel knows it's a horrible idea from the start, to rely on someone when she's better off alone (she did it for her whole life already). Maybe a bit lonely but it's okay in the end since everything is for the greater glory of the Broadway stage. At least, it was okay till Quinn called her one night asking for he help.
Quinn is gone now and she doesn't have the blonde. Rachel isn't sure how her future plays out anymore. All her dreams had somehow included Quinn. Quinn, at the beginning of a show, encouraging and calming her nerves. Quinn, backstage, waiting for her at the end of the play with flowers and praises.
"I need you to care, Rachel," Puck approaches her like she's a spooked animal, ready to run on a second's notice.
"Back off, Noah. I don't want to deal with you right now and if you crack you head on one of these stones, I have no objections to leaving you here to die," she sighs tiredly.
"Let me in that supersized head of yours, superstar," Puck stresses, ignoring her attempts to push her away.
Rachel wants to let him in, she really does (at least she thinks she does), but it's hard, hard to let someone again when the world and society and everything can take them away in a moment's notice. She doesn't think she can take losing Puck or Brittany or even Santana or the rest of their motley crew after Quinn.
But the truth of the matter is, she cares too much. That's just always been how she is and because she wears her heart on her sleeve, she's getting hurt. It's too hard to comprehend that the blonde isn't waiting for her at home. That this isn't all a dream and at any moment now she'll wake up with Quinn wrapped around her and she'll wake Quinn up with panicked kisses and retell her dream and Quinn will reassure her that she's not going anywhere.
"If you're not caring than what is this?" Puck snorts derisively. "You don't go to Glee anymore. You show up here every day after school and don't go home till it's almost midnight. You fucking care."
It's hard to pretend that she's fine and to not think about how much Russell and Judy, Quinn's parents, contributed to the endgame. Rachel wants to know what was running through Quinn in those last moments. Did Quinn think she wasn't pretty enough? Because Rachel knows and tells her often that Quinn is the prettiest girl she's ever met (and will always be). Did the gorgeous blonde believe all the taunts, threats and insults that Russell and his God-believing ways bestowed upon her? Because Quinn was never going to go hell and this wasn't a sin. Love is love. She was intelligent, not useless. She was going to go far, farther than just marrying a good Christian boy and drowning her sorrows in alcohol. (The two of them were going to move up to New York together). Better than just a low grade college in Ohio. So why, why did she give up? Quinn was too young (too wonderful for this world) to go.
Yet like ashes, she fades.
As if Puck can see that he's closing on victory, he pushes on, "What's on your mind, superstar?"
"I miss her," she rasps out in a hoarse voice.
"We all do, Rach."
"I loved her," she continues her confession quietly. "I was so in love with her."
"We know," he comments softly. He's not patronizing her or their love because anyone with eyes could see the extent of their stupidity and how long it had taken them to reach each other. There was so much in between them.
Quinn had her insecurities (too fat, never perfect enough) and fear. Her father's constant beatings and trying not to fall into genetics and what people have planned for her from the very begin. Rachel always blew her own horn because she's so damn afaid that she'll never make it on the stage for anyone else to do it. Quinn blew it for her though, indulged her. Rachel is so afaid that she's just broken baggage and the reason she could never work a relationship prior to Quinn was because she wasn't good enough (too different, high school is cruel).
"And then she left me."
"She's happy now, though, right, babe?"
"I don't know what she is anymore, Noah."
"I know you're not Christian or anything," he murmurs softly as pulls her in and she doesn't resist, just tucks her face against his chest. "But it doesn't matter if you don't believe in this religion or whatever. Whatever is beyond...maybe Quinn's happy there now."
"I'm not happy though," her voice is muffled against her chest and she knows it's a selfish thing to say. Her biggest fan use to be Quinn. It makes her question who it is now. Rachel is just a face in the crowd. Just one of the million of people with dreams to be on that stage. Quinn use to be able to convince her that it was okay. She'd beat everyone with her boisterous voice and annoyingly chipper attitude. She'd laugh and slap the blonde playfully.
"C'mon, Rachel," Puck holds her smaller frame even tighter. "Quinn would want you to be happy."
"Then she shouldn't have done this," Rachel rages on. She's angry, maybe not at Puck anymore but at Quinn for leaving her behind in such a cruel.
Quinn is suppose to be there. Before and after shows. Through the long, sleepless nights of frenzied studying for both of them. Through the mornings and days when they would barely see each other while they strived to be greater than nothing. That's the plan - or it was the plan.
"You're going to get far," and it pains him to say it but he does it anyways because she needs to hear this. "You're going to leave us all behind and we'll be a distant memory of high school tormentors and friends. You're going to do it for Quinn. She wanted you to go to New York. Live your dreams. Isn't that what you've been planning for awhile?"
"My plans had Quinn in them," Rachel responds somberly.
"She's always going to be with you," Puck continues strives on forward because he's on a roll. His eyes trace over the necklace that Rachel refuses to take off. It's from Quinn. A star for a star. Metaphors are important after all. "So please live."
"How do I live without her?"
Puck has never heard her sound so uncertain, sound so small and un-Rachel berry like. He's at loss for a reply because he hasn't figured out how to live without Quinn and she was only his friend. Rachel was her god damn girlfriend.
"I don't know," he admits honestly.
Everyone is at odds with each other in their terror. It's weird to not have Quinn walking through the halls (her Kingdom, she's the Queen of everything). Sometimes, Rachel wakes up in the middle of the night expecting a phone call from a sobbing Quinn, too messed up for most people to want to fix (but hey, Rachel is that way too). The brunette is utterly perplexed as to how all of her friends (and significant others) never managed to see this ahead of time (prevent this) before it could come crashing down.
"Come hang out with us," Puck suggests.
"I-" she stops the instant refusal on the tip of her tongue. Quinn would want her to be social. "Okay."
"Really?" Puck asks shocked. He's use to her blowing them off that hearing her say yes is astonishing.
"Yes, Puck. I will 'hang' with you."
"Great," he smiles and grabs her smaller hand in his. "Brittany and Santana are at my house right now. Hopefully doing the dirty so we can catch them in the act."
Rachel laughs and then stops.
"Damn, Rach, you still know how to laugh," Puck jokes tentatively. He doesn't want this happiness to go.
"And you still give me whiplash from being all sensitive and then dirty at a moment's notice."
"Hey, chicks dig the sensitive," Puck shrugs and tugs Rachel along behind him.
"When did you grow up, Noah?"
Puck stops and looks at her with a frown. "We've all had to grow up a little bit."
Moving on from Quinn is had. She knows because she sometimes lies in her bed and smells the sheets because the distinct scent of the blond is still there. Time does not stop to wait. There is only the pain and memories to remind her of the fact that yes, Quinn Fabray did exist once upon a time. Maybe the two of them were too serious for high school but they were the only things they had at the time. Lonely and lost, they connected and were dependent on each other. In the long term, it was a horrible idea but in that moment, Rachel needed Quinn and Quinn needed her girl and that was all there was to it.
Rachel still needs Quinn but apparently Quinn didn't need her enough (or too much?). But there's Puck. And Brittany. And Santana, however question she is most of the time. She wants to blame Quinn's downfall on herself (she does already) but she can practically feel the blonde's disapproving glare.
Getting past is going to take time, a long time, but Quinn has always believed in and she's going to achieve those dreams for a young love lost. Because Quinn is too good for this world and Rachel will never regret any moment she got to spend with Quinn before she flew off in a flurry of angel wings.
Someday, she knows she will see Quinn again. It's hurts but it's better than feeling nothing.
"I love you," Quinn murmurs quietly, stroking Rachel's hair. The first contact between the two of them in awhile.
"I love you too," Rachel responds tilting her head up to smile at Quinn from her position in the blonde's lap.
"Don't let anybody tell you any different," Quinn continues. "I - I'll always love you."
And she fades, like spoken words.
But Rachel (and the rest of them) will always remember, will always cherish that young blonde girl who felt too much but couldn't express it enough.
Author: Jocelyn
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG 13
Pairings: Rachel/Quinn. Puckleberry friendship.
Word Count: 3000ish
Warnings: Character death. Suspected/implied suicide.
Spoilers: Nothing I can think of.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Summary: In the aftermath, there's feelings to death with and time doesn't stop to wait.
A/N: Since I haven't updated You Were Sent Here in awhile, I decided to throw out this since I found it sitting on my USB. It's the original ending that I wrote for YWSH but I'm deciding on something else. Title comes from Hollywood Undead's Coming Back Down. Also, is it horrible that I want to spend an entire summer with the straight girl I'm crushing on? Probably.
Quinn Fabray's death is an accident, people say. A tragic accident. One horrible mistake. But no one can quite understand the pain of loosing Quinn like her friends. It didn't matter that sometimes they were enemies too. Lima is a small community and a majority of them pretend that they knew that pretty blonde girl but deep down, nobody really did. And maybe that's why she's gone.
She was such a sweet girl. My daughter adored her.
Lies amongst lies that the newspaper eagerly soaks up as news spreads of her death. People want their fifteen minutes of fame so badly that they forget about the whole reason they're getting it. Losing someone, losing her.
It's routine. Glee is a distant memory now. The choir room is too suffocating, a constant reminder of when the blonde use to sit in there with the rest of the Glee club members. The tension in the room is too much and Rachel finds herself skipping more often than not. Any other club she's joined or has a hand in forming has been put on the back burner as well.
Rachel finds it too hard to concentrate on insignificant things like singing and clubs and school when everything around her is a constant reminder that her dreams could be wiped away in a second (half of them were).
Her car rumbles its dissent as she pushes it a little faster. A thought strikes her that she could crash the car and it would be all over (almost over). She would be closer to Quinn if nothing else, but she doesn't allow herself to entertain that thought for long. It's a dangeous line and something she finds far too alluring. The silence in her car is disconcerting. She use to love music but now the tunes just remind her of nights when Quinn spent hour after hour indulging her musical tastes, smiling and just shaking her head fondly at Rachel's enthusiastic manner.
"Baby, just calm down."
"But how is it that you've never watched this musical before? Unacceptable. You will watch it this instant, Quinn Fabray."
Quinn would smile. That soft, unguarded smile she only shows to Rachel. "Alright, put it in."
Rachel knows the exact amount of time it takes to get from school to the cemetery where Quinn is buried. She stares at the clock sometimes with avid fascination because it gives her something else to do beside think. Thinking is too painful these days because sometimes she forgets that Quinn is...is gone. The sheets beside her still painfully smells like the blonde.
She knows how many steps it takes from her usual parking spot to the memorial stone - to where Quinn lies, broken, a sweet girl that nobody understood (too broken, too broken someone told her).
Rachel settles down on the recently trimmed grass. She leans forward to remove a couple of leaves that have landed on the marker before she leans back and just enjoys. Peace is a rare commodity but here, beauty is rampant in the silence.
"You're the prettiest girl I've ever met but you're more than that," Rachel says, eyes pleading with Quinn to understand that she loved her, without a doubt.
Everyone, to some extent, know something was going on between Rachel and Quinn before the...the unfortunate event but not the true extent. Only Noah, Brittany and Santana know. Ironically enough, her past tormentors have become her closest friends because they share common ground - Quinn.
Bitter, insane laughter spills from her lips because she knows that if she ever reveals the truth that no one will believe her and Rachel isn't ready to have her love for Quinn and Quinn for her to be ridiculed.
Puck wanders in after awhile. He stumbles, ungraceful, to crumple on the ground beside Rachel. She turns to look at him with a frown and he responds with an apologetic look. She sighs and helps him to readjust so he's sitting upright beside her, silent.
Puck is drunk most of the time now. Rachel doesn't approve of it but she knows and understand why he does it. Easier to numb the pain than to deal with the emotion of losing Quinn. The brunette can practically hear the disapproving noise of Quinn's voice at the thought of even considering it as an option. She can see the slight frown on her face as the blonde lectures her about the cons of drinking (read: unwanted pregnancies). Rachel cannot help but feel protected when Quinn is around. The blonde is always a little bit protective and a lot possessive. She chokes on the thought now (in the way she thinks that Quinn is still alive and that she'll never see the blonde again). The blonde isn't around to make her feel okay (or for her to try and make Quinn feel some semblance of alright).
"How you holding up, superstar?" Puck asks in a gruff voice as he takes another sip from the bottle he's holding. He's never been good with his emotions but he's trying a little bit because Rachel needs him. They all need each other now because he knows he's just another ticking time bomb.
"Fine," Rachel mutters in a monotone. She's curled in on herself, knees tucked closer to her body with her chin resting against the top of her knees and arms wrapped around her legs.
"Rach," Puck whispers softly, resting a heavy arm across her back.
"Don't," Rachel chokes out before Puck can start. It feels odd to have Puck care so much now. Sometimes, she wonders if it's the alcohol speaking or the regret of the baby drama.
"Come on, Rach," Puck whispers again, ignoring Rachel's protest as he pulls her closer. "Talk to me, girl."
"Talk to me, Rach," Quinn begs, tilting Rachel's head up so their eyes can meet. "Don't shut me out."
"No," she grits out and tries to throw his arm off but it stays laid out across her shoulders.
"You're feeling things," he says, his face contorts for a moment because he's feeling too many things too and so he takes another sip of his drink. "So let them out on the Puckster." He's looking for a smile on the brunette's face but there's nothing. He's unwittingly reminding Rachel of past conversations with Quinn.
"I'll keep them to myself, thank you very much, Noah."
"Can't do that forever, supernova."
"I can and will," Rachel bites out stubbornly, pushing him away. Anger is the closest she'll ever get to feeling again. This rage and constant hatred against the world - at Puck, at anyone that will take her fiery temper because the world took Quinn away far too early. Plus the two balanced each other out. Her natural flair for dramatics to Quinn's calm collective cool.
"Talk to me, Rach," Puck pleads.
She shakes her head and shuts him out.
Accidental overdose? Rachel scoffs. Quinn doesn't do accidental. Everything she does is precise to a T. This isn't any different. Quinn Fabray did it with a reason, one that nobody else could see (or everyone else decided to ignore).
"Just come hang out with the rest of us, okay?" Puck asks tentatively. "We're hurting too, babe."
"None of you understand," she says stubbornly, refusing. She doesn't understand too but she won't admit that, can't admit that for fear of realizing that she failed Quinn.
"Help us understand then," he pleads again, dropping the bottle on the ground, he steps closer and attempts to wrap her into his arms.
"I-I..." Rachel pauses before she violently pushes Puck away (sort of like how Quinn pushed her away the past couple weeks).
She storms away and Puck stumbles after her. The alcohol might have been getting to him a little bit. It's harder to walk after her and he wishes that she would just stand stationary so they can talk but he struggles on valiantly. He's not ready to lose her too. Not on his watch at least (he can't remember when he started caring).
"Fuck, Rachel," Puck shouts after her retreating form as he trips over a gravestone and barely stops himself from falling over. "I don't want to lose you too, okay? So tell me what the hell is going on," his voice softens. "I lost Quinn already."
"You lost Quinn?" Rachel asks coldly.
"Well," Puck backtracks as he tries to figure out why Rachel is suddenly angry at him (strangely enough, it doesn't strike him as odd anymore - Rachel is always angry at him now). "Yeah."
"I lost her. You were the one that..." Rachel throws her hands up in frustration. "You were the insensitive boy that got her pregnant."
"I was sorry, y'know?"
"Sorry won't bring her back."
"Yeah, well neither will you getting angry and your fucking constant yelling. Rach, babe, you're hurting everyone around you," Puck throws back and he waits with baited breath for Rachel to admonish him for his language.
"I don't care," Rachel confesses. She wants other people to hurt because it means that she isn't the only one hurting. Yes, Rachel indeed knows that everyone is hurting but it's not enough. The brunette wants to lash out because it's easier than thinking about the future.
Rachel doesn't know how to go on. Her life has become too intertwined with Quinn's. Rachel knows it's a horrible idea from the start, to rely on someone when she's better off alone (she did it for her whole life already). Maybe a bit lonely but it's okay in the end since everything is for the greater glory of the Broadway stage. At least, it was okay till Quinn called her one night asking for he help.
Quinn is gone now and she doesn't have the blonde. Rachel isn't sure how her future plays out anymore. All her dreams had somehow included Quinn. Quinn, at the beginning of a show, encouraging and calming her nerves. Quinn, backstage, waiting for her at the end of the play with flowers and praises.
"I need you to care, Rachel," Puck approaches her like she's a spooked animal, ready to run on a second's notice.
"Back off, Noah. I don't want to deal with you right now and if you crack you head on one of these stones, I have no objections to leaving you here to die," she sighs tiredly.
"Let me in that supersized head of yours, superstar," Puck stresses, ignoring her attempts to push her away.
Rachel wants to let him in, she really does (at least she thinks she does), but it's hard, hard to let someone again when the world and society and everything can take them away in a moment's notice. She doesn't think she can take losing Puck or Brittany or even Santana or the rest of their motley crew after Quinn.
But the truth of the matter is, she cares too much. That's just always been how she is and because she wears her heart on her sleeve, she's getting hurt. It's too hard to comprehend that the blonde isn't waiting for her at home. That this isn't all a dream and at any moment now she'll wake up with Quinn wrapped around her and she'll wake Quinn up with panicked kisses and retell her dream and Quinn will reassure her that she's not going anywhere.
"If you're not caring than what is this?" Puck snorts derisively. "You don't go to Glee anymore. You show up here every day after school and don't go home till it's almost midnight. You fucking care."
It's hard to pretend that she's fine and to not think about how much Russell and Judy, Quinn's parents, contributed to the endgame. Rachel wants to know what was running through Quinn in those last moments. Did Quinn think she wasn't pretty enough? Because Rachel knows and tells her often that Quinn is the prettiest girl she's ever met (and will always be). Did the gorgeous blonde believe all the taunts, threats and insults that Russell and his God-believing ways bestowed upon her? Because Quinn was never going to go hell and this wasn't a sin. Love is love. She was intelligent, not useless. She was going to go far, farther than just marrying a good Christian boy and drowning her sorrows in alcohol. (The two of them were going to move up to New York together). Better than just a low grade college in Ohio. So why, why did she give up? Quinn was too young (too wonderful for this world) to go.
Yet like ashes, she fades.
As if Puck can see that he's closing on victory, he pushes on, "What's on your mind, superstar?"
"I miss her," she rasps out in a hoarse voice.
"We all do, Rach."
"I loved her," she continues her confession quietly. "I was so in love with her."
"We know," he comments softly. He's not patronizing her or their love because anyone with eyes could see the extent of their stupidity and how long it had taken them to reach each other. There was so much in between them.
Quinn had her insecurities (too fat, never perfect enough) and fear. Her father's constant beatings and trying not to fall into genetics and what people have planned for her from the very begin. Rachel always blew her own horn because she's so damn afaid that she'll never make it on the stage for anyone else to do it. Quinn blew it for her though, indulged her. Rachel is so afaid that she's just broken baggage and the reason she could never work a relationship prior to Quinn was because she wasn't good enough (too different, high school is cruel).
"And then she left me."
"She's happy now, though, right, babe?"
"I don't know what she is anymore, Noah."
"I know you're not Christian or anything," he murmurs softly as pulls her in and she doesn't resist, just tucks her face against his chest. "But it doesn't matter if you don't believe in this religion or whatever. Whatever is beyond...maybe Quinn's happy there now."
"I'm not happy though," her voice is muffled against her chest and she knows it's a selfish thing to say. Her biggest fan use to be Quinn. It makes her question who it is now. Rachel is just a face in the crowd. Just one of the million of people with dreams to be on that stage. Quinn use to be able to convince her that it was okay. She'd beat everyone with her boisterous voice and annoyingly chipper attitude. She'd laugh and slap the blonde playfully.
"C'mon, Rachel," Puck holds her smaller frame even tighter. "Quinn would want you to be happy."
"Then she shouldn't have done this," Rachel rages on. She's angry, maybe not at Puck anymore but at Quinn for leaving her behind in such a cruel.
Quinn is suppose to be there. Before and after shows. Through the long, sleepless nights of frenzied studying for both of them. Through the mornings and days when they would barely see each other while they strived to be greater than nothing. That's the plan - or it was the plan.
"You're going to get far," and it pains him to say it but he does it anyways because she needs to hear this. "You're going to leave us all behind and we'll be a distant memory of high school tormentors and friends. You're going to do it for Quinn. She wanted you to go to New York. Live your dreams. Isn't that what you've been planning for awhile?"
"My plans had Quinn in them," Rachel responds somberly.
"She's always going to be with you," Puck continues strives on forward because he's on a roll. His eyes trace over the necklace that Rachel refuses to take off. It's from Quinn. A star for a star. Metaphors are important after all. "So please live."
"How do I live without her?"
Puck has never heard her sound so uncertain, sound so small and un-Rachel berry like. He's at loss for a reply because he hasn't figured out how to live without Quinn and she was only his friend. Rachel was her god damn girlfriend.
"I don't know," he admits honestly.
Everyone is at odds with each other in their terror. It's weird to not have Quinn walking through the halls (her Kingdom, she's the Queen of everything). Sometimes, Rachel wakes up in the middle of the night expecting a phone call from a sobbing Quinn, too messed up for most people to want to fix (but hey, Rachel is that way too). The brunette is utterly perplexed as to how all of her friends (and significant others) never managed to see this ahead of time (prevent this) before it could come crashing down.
"Come hang out with us," Puck suggests.
"I-" she stops the instant refusal on the tip of her tongue. Quinn would want her to be social. "Okay."
"Really?" Puck asks shocked. He's use to her blowing them off that hearing her say yes is astonishing.
"Yes, Puck. I will 'hang' with you."
"Great," he smiles and grabs her smaller hand in his. "Brittany and Santana are at my house right now. Hopefully doing the dirty so we can catch them in the act."
Rachel laughs and then stops.
"Damn, Rach, you still know how to laugh," Puck jokes tentatively. He doesn't want this happiness to go.
"And you still give me whiplash from being all sensitive and then dirty at a moment's notice."
"Hey, chicks dig the sensitive," Puck shrugs and tugs Rachel along behind him.
"When did you grow up, Noah?"
Puck stops and looks at her with a frown. "We've all had to grow up a little bit."
Moving on from Quinn is had. She knows because she sometimes lies in her bed and smells the sheets because the distinct scent of the blond is still there. Time does not stop to wait. There is only the pain and memories to remind her of the fact that yes, Quinn Fabray did exist once upon a time. Maybe the two of them were too serious for high school but they were the only things they had at the time. Lonely and lost, they connected and were dependent on each other. In the long term, it was a horrible idea but in that moment, Rachel needed Quinn and Quinn needed her girl and that was all there was to it.
Rachel still needs Quinn but apparently Quinn didn't need her enough (or too much?). But there's Puck. And Brittany. And Santana, however question she is most of the time. She wants to blame Quinn's downfall on herself (she does already) but she can practically feel the blonde's disapproving glare.
Getting past is going to take time, a long time, but Quinn has always believed in and she's going to achieve those dreams for a young love lost. Because Quinn is too good for this world and Rachel will never regret any moment she got to spend with Quinn before she flew off in a flurry of angel wings.
Someday, she knows she will see Quinn again. It's hurts but it's better than feeling nothing.
"I love you," Quinn murmurs quietly, stroking Rachel's hair. The first contact between the two of them in awhile.
"I love you too," Rachel responds tilting her head up to smile at Quinn from her position in the blonde's lap.
"Don't let anybody tell you any different," Quinn continues. "I - I'll always love you."
And she fades, like spoken words.
But Rachel (and the rest of them) will always remember, will always cherish that young blonde girl who felt too much but couldn't express it enough.