fic: Settling
TITLE: Settling
SPOILERS: Everything up to halfway through S02 E16
RATING: G. Angst warning.
SUMMARY: “I want to know why you’re settling.”
WORDS: 1,200ish
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Quinn, Quinn/Finn, Quinn/Rachel
NOTES: Written in two hours. Needed a brief break from scrabble-based fluff and everything else I’m writing. Unbeta’d.
Do you want to know how the story plays out? I get Finn, you get heartbroken and then Finn and I will stay here and start a family. I’ll become a successful real estate agent and Finn will take over Kurt’s dad’s tyre shop. You don’t belong here, Rachel, and you can’t hate me for helping me send you on your way.
You know that as she turns and walks away that she’s crying. You know in the way she’s slightly hunched, you know because her shoulders are shaking, you know because you hear a tiny sob echo as she all but runs off the stage and out of the auditorium.
You feel yourself deflate, leaning forward against the piano until your forehead touches the music stand, cool against your skin. Your eyes slide shut as your own tears form and begin to streak down your cheeks, dropping onto the keys. Finally allowing yourself to take a breath, you’re disgusted with yourself when it causes you to hiccup loudly, the noise bouncing off the walls.
Quick footsteps approach and you wipe away the tears with the palms of your hands. You’re unsurprised when you look up and she’s there, standing at the other end of the piano. Her eyes are red and tears are still rolling down her face. You feel a jerk somewhere around your stomach but try not to let anything show, anything but contempt for this girl who insists on making your life hell.
“No,” she states simply, her voice low. Your brow furrows in confusion.
“No?” you repeat, genuinely perplexed.
“You expect me just to step aside so that you can have Finn. You don’t even love him, Quinn. Not the way I do. You see him as some sort of status symbol, your way to stay on top. It was the same with Puck and the same with Sam. As long as you’re on the arm of the most popular guy in school, it doesn’t really seem to matter which guy it is.”
Rachel begins to walk around the piano.
“That isn’t even the point,” Rachel says softly.
“It isn’t? You aren’t going to fight me for Finn?”
“I’ll fight as long as he’s still interested. And he is, Quinn. You can’t deny the way he looks at me. I want to know why you’re settling.”
“I’m settling?” you ask, annoyed that you’ve been reduced to some sort of parrot.
“Quinn, you are smart and talented. You’re acting like you’re doing me some sort of huge favour, settling for Finn so that I’ll get out of Lima? Don’t you want that for yourself? You did, before Beth.”
You flinch at the sound of your baby’s name. Not your baby. Shelby’s baby. She’s never been your baby.
“People change,” you say quietly, looking away, hands clasped in your lap now. “I’m just another Lima loser now. Teenage mom, ex-cheerleader. Just like my mom. Marrying her high school sweetheart, having a couple of kids…”
“Well, it worked out real well for your parents…”
Your eyes rocket up to her, glaring so intensely that you’re surprised she doesn’t burst into flames. Her face falls into apologetic grimace and she holds up her hands.
“I’m sorry…”
“You have no idea… with your perfect dads, in your perfect house…”
“You think my life is perfect?”
The pain in her voice causes you to blink and you share a long glance with her. The tears that had stopped start up again and you stand up from the piano bench, unable to take it anymore. She flinches away from you as you walk towards her but you shake your head, stopping a few inches from her.
“I’m scared, Rachel,” you admit, taking a shaky breath.
“Scared?” she asks, her impossibly deep brown eyes searching yours as her forehead creases. Your fingers twitch at your sides and you have to force yourself from reaching up to smooth her worry lines away. Your heartbeat physically accelerates when you allow yourself to think about touching her and you swallow.
“It isn’t easy for me. Things are expected of me. Be a cheerleader. Be prom queen. Graduate. Get married. Have kids. White picket fences and golden retrievers and Little League games and… you have dreams. You have dreams of Broadway and being centrestage and winning Tony awards.”
“You’re allowed to have dreams too, Quinn,” she says. Her left arm rises slightly and you’re divided: part of you wants her to touch you, comfort you. The other part of you wants you to run because the second she tries to comfort you, you know you won’t be able to keep your tears in check. She battles her indecision and lowers her arm, fingers flexing nervously.
“Tell me,” she whispers and you laugh a little, wiping away an errant tear and shake your head; not because you don’t want to tell her, but because you have no idea. You want to see the world, you want to study something you’ll enjoy, get a job you like, settle down at some point, maybe have kids, maybe not. You don’t know.
“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. She accepts this, nodding. “There is one thing I want,” you say, your voice is thick with tears and now you don’t want to stop the words. You don’t want to hide. You don’t want Finn and prom and white picket fences and clothes stained with oil from the garage your husband works at and a golden retriever that keeps chewing up your favourite shoes. Your heart speeds up again and it feels as though the auditorium is starting to close in on you. All you can see is her, her eyes questioning, her mouth parting, her cheeks shining with the tears that haven’t dried, those worry lines you still want to smooth out… you feel yourself move closer to her and then her lips are right there and everything stops. Your eyes close as hers close and there’s everything and nothing and fireworks as you meet each other. Hesitantly, you slide a hand around her waist, pulling her closer and her hands are in your hair as the kiss deepens.
It feels like minutes pass before you break apart, breathing heavily and staring at each other. Her eyes searches yours once again, trying to figure out if this is some kind of joke. She breaks out of your hold and you feel your heart break… shatter.
“What…” she tries to speak but just stares at you. “You just…”
“You kissed me back,” you say dumbly. “You did.”
“I did,” she says with a nod, touching her lips with her fingertips. “I have to go.”
She doesn’t turn away immediately, still trying to process what’s just happened. Eventually, she turns away and walks out of the auditorium, leaving you to sink back down on the piano stool and take breath after breath until you’ve tricked yourself into believing that none of it happened, that you didn’t slip up.
You ache as you walk down the corridors to your locker and find Finn there waiting. You force smiles as he fusses around you. You smile and you walk with your back straight and Finn’s arm around your shoulders.
And you settle.
SPOILERS: Everything up to halfway through S02 E16
RATING: G. Angst warning.
SUMMARY: “I want to know why you’re settling.”
WORDS: 1,200ish
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Quinn, Quinn/Finn, Quinn/Rachel
NOTES: Written in two hours. Needed a brief break from scrabble-based fluff and everything else I’m writing. Unbeta’d.
Do you want to know how the story plays out? I get Finn, you get heartbroken and then Finn and I will stay here and start a family. I’ll become a successful real estate agent and Finn will take over Kurt’s dad’s tyre shop. You don’t belong here, Rachel, and you can’t hate me for helping me send you on your way.
You know that as she turns and walks away that she’s crying. You know in the way she’s slightly hunched, you know because her shoulders are shaking, you know because you hear a tiny sob echo as she all but runs off the stage and out of the auditorium.
You feel yourself deflate, leaning forward against the piano until your forehead touches the music stand, cool against your skin. Your eyes slide shut as your own tears form and begin to streak down your cheeks, dropping onto the keys. Finally allowing yourself to take a breath, you’re disgusted with yourself when it causes you to hiccup loudly, the noise bouncing off the walls.
Quick footsteps approach and you wipe away the tears with the palms of your hands. You’re unsurprised when you look up and she’s there, standing at the other end of the piano. Her eyes are red and tears are still rolling down her face. You feel a jerk somewhere around your stomach but try not to let anything show, anything but contempt for this girl who insists on making your life hell.
“No,” she states simply, her voice low. Your brow furrows in confusion.
“No?” you repeat, genuinely perplexed.
“You expect me just to step aside so that you can have Finn. You don’t even love him, Quinn. Not the way I do. You see him as some sort of status symbol, your way to stay on top. It was the same with Puck and the same with Sam. As long as you’re on the arm of the most popular guy in school, it doesn’t really seem to matter which guy it is.”
Rachel begins to walk around the piano.
“That isn’t even the point,” Rachel says softly.
“It isn’t? You aren’t going to fight me for Finn?”
“I’ll fight as long as he’s still interested. And he is, Quinn. You can’t deny the way he looks at me. I want to know why you’re settling.”
“I’m settling?” you ask, annoyed that you’ve been reduced to some sort of parrot.
“Quinn, you are smart and talented. You’re acting like you’re doing me some sort of huge favour, settling for Finn so that I’ll get out of Lima? Don’t you want that for yourself? You did, before Beth.”
You flinch at the sound of your baby’s name. Not your baby. Shelby’s baby. She’s never been your baby.
“People change,” you say quietly, looking away, hands clasped in your lap now. “I’m just another Lima loser now. Teenage mom, ex-cheerleader. Just like my mom. Marrying her high school sweetheart, having a couple of kids…”
“Well, it worked out real well for your parents…”
Your eyes rocket up to her, glaring so intensely that you’re surprised she doesn’t burst into flames. Her face falls into apologetic grimace and she holds up her hands.
“I’m sorry…”
“You have no idea… with your perfect dads, in your perfect house…”
“You think my life is perfect?”
The pain in her voice causes you to blink and you share a long glance with her. The tears that had stopped start up again and you stand up from the piano bench, unable to take it anymore. She flinches away from you as you walk towards her but you shake your head, stopping a few inches from her.
“I’m scared, Rachel,” you admit, taking a shaky breath.
“Scared?” she asks, her impossibly deep brown eyes searching yours as her forehead creases. Your fingers twitch at your sides and you have to force yourself from reaching up to smooth her worry lines away. Your heartbeat physically accelerates when you allow yourself to think about touching her and you swallow.
“It isn’t easy for me. Things are expected of me. Be a cheerleader. Be prom queen. Graduate. Get married. Have kids. White picket fences and golden retrievers and Little League games and… you have dreams. You have dreams of Broadway and being centrestage and winning Tony awards.”
“You’re allowed to have dreams too, Quinn,” she says. Her left arm rises slightly and you’re divided: part of you wants her to touch you, comfort you. The other part of you wants you to run because the second she tries to comfort you, you know you won’t be able to keep your tears in check. She battles her indecision and lowers her arm, fingers flexing nervously.
“Tell me,” she whispers and you laugh a little, wiping away an errant tear and shake your head; not because you don’t want to tell her, but because you have no idea. You want to see the world, you want to study something you’ll enjoy, get a job you like, settle down at some point, maybe have kids, maybe not. You don’t know.
“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. She accepts this, nodding. “There is one thing I want,” you say, your voice is thick with tears and now you don’t want to stop the words. You don’t want to hide. You don’t want Finn and prom and white picket fences and clothes stained with oil from the garage your husband works at and a golden retriever that keeps chewing up your favourite shoes. Your heart speeds up again and it feels as though the auditorium is starting to close in on you. All you can see is her, her eyes questioning, her mouth parting, her cheeks shining with the tears that haven’t dried, those worry lines you still want to smooth out… you feel yourself move closer to her and then her lips are right there and everything stops. Your eyes close as hers close and there’s everything and nothing and fireworks as you meet each other. Hesitantly, you slide a hand around her waist, pulling her closer and her hands are in your hair as the kiss deepens.
It feels like minutes pass before you break apart, breathing heavily and staring at each other. Her eyes searches yours once again, trying to figure out if this is some kind of joke. She breaks out of your hold and you feel your heart break… shatter.
“What…” she tries to speak but just stares at you. “You just…”
“You kissed me back,” you say dumbly. “You did.”
“I did,” she says with a nod, touching her lips with her fingertips. “I have to go.”
She doesn’t turn away immediately, still trying to process what’s just happened. Eventually, she turns away and walks out of the auditorium, leaving you to sink back down on the piano stool and take breath after breath until you’ve tricked yourself into believing that none of it happened, that you didn’t slip up.
You ache as you walk down the corridors to your locker and find Finn there waiting. You force smiles as he fusses around you. You smile and you walk with your back straight and Finn’s arm around your shoulders.
And you settle.