(no subject)
Title: Reversal
Author: xfindyourlight
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Finn, Puck, Quinn, Sam, Rachel, Kurt; one sided Finn/Quinn and Puck/Quinn, Sam/Quinn, Finn/Rachel
Summary: Finn doesn't remember ever her smiling like this before.
So Finn turned her down. It would’ve been so easy. Rachel was being crazy and Quinn was right there, just the way he liked to remember her. But he couldn’t. Most of the time, Rachel was pretty cool and he loved her and all and Quinn hurt him so bad. Yeah, he’d always love her, but he couldn’t do it again. She broke his heart in a big way and it’d never be the same as it was.
So Finn turns her down and he sees her sad eyes in his dreams that night. But Rachel comes around and he’s really happy and stuff and that shade of hazel green starts to fade from his memory. Things are good. Things are very good.
That is, until Quinn sees Sam Evans. Now, instead of wandering the halls like a lost soul, ignored and invisible, she’s always attached to Sam’s arm. The quarterback and head cheerleader. It’s so iconic or irony or whatever that it make Finn sick.
She looks so happy. Finn doesn’t remember ever seeing her smile like this before. It’s real, it’s genuine, it’s not forced. It makes him nauseous. Rachel has started to notice how distracted he gets, but she hasn’t noticed it only happens when Quinn is laughing at one of Sam’s jokes or Sam is softly kissing her forehead. He plays it off as though he’s sick, so Rachel give him bottles and bottles of vitamins and some immune system stuff. Like a good boyfriend, he takes them (and by like a good boyfriend, he means he takes them because Rachel reminds him all the time to), but they don’t help him fall asleep when memories of the blondes play in his head.
Puck is pissed. Finn and him are okayish now and Puck doesn’t say anything about it, but he can see it. Yeah, Finn is kind of dumb, but he notices a lot more than people give him credit. He sees the flash in anger in Puck’s eyes and how his hands tend to destroy anything when he sees them together.
Quinn can be a real bitch, but she’s got the three of them wrapped around her finger.
It’s so stupid. Even by his standards, it’s a bad idea, but he and Puck do it. Finn’s not really sure why he even thought it would help. It was just misplaced rage on the person who wasn’t really their problem.
Quinn breaks form immediately. Her pom-poms are on the ground and she’s on the field before Ms. Sylvester can even scream her name. She looks like she’s flying; she’s running so fast across the field. Finn and Puck stand by awkwardly, suddenly becoming aware of how freaking stupid that was. There’s a small crowd around Sam, all trying to help. Quinn is teeny compared to the burly football players, but she rips them out of her way, like a lioness fighting for her cub. They disperse uncomfortably and Finn gets a good view of the damage they’ve caused. Sam’s helmet is a good foot or two away from his head and he’s sporting a pretty intense gash across his face. Quinn softly brushes his hair out of his eyes as he heaves for the breath he lost and she takes his hand and holds it tight, even while the nurse and Coach Beiste look him over. It’s decided that it’s best to take him off the field in a stretcher in order to let him breathe right and to make sure he’s not seriously hurt. Quinn is brushed aside in the effort to get him onto it and she looks furious. There’s no real proof that Finn and Puck caused him to get hurt, but Quinn knows. It’s like she can smell it on their guilt. The glare she shoots Puck is enough to light something on fire and Finn gets ready for it himself. But when her eyes shift to him, she looks angry, yeah, but she looks so disappointed too. His lips fall open and he goes to say something, anything, but she’s shaking her head and turning away to catch up with Sam, who’s being carried away.
Finn throws up.
He can’t sleep anymore. Every time he tries, he sees those disappointed eyes and thinks about how he could’ve had her again. He tries everything and anything to get sleep, to be free even for just a few hours. He’s even tried Kurt’s teas and facemasks and all that, but it doesn’t help. And Kurt’s pity does nothing to make it better. Rachel notices this time. He can’t focus on anything and he’s lost weight and looks pale. He’s consumed in guilt and loss. His sad stares in Quinn’s direction, which are met with an icy cold shoulder, are noticed. Rachel tries everything to regain his attention. She cries, screams, sings, talks to him, even goes so far to fake a pregnancy (Finn doesn’t believe it’s his this time) to get something. But he can’t do anything. He’s too sleep deprived, too distracted. Rachel breaks up with him, conveniently the day that Jesse texts her from California.
It’s just another thing that makes Finn feel crappy.
He apologizes to Sam, who’s cool enough to totally forgive him. He’s injured a few muscles in his back, so he’s out of football for a few weeks, but he’s expected to make a full recovery, so it’s not a problem. Quinn is still angry. She’s like an Olympian champion at holding grudges and Finn knows it. But one day, she comes up to him in the hall and Finn feels the tiniest twinge of hope.
“Please,” she says, “take care of yourself. Sleep, eat, all that. You look awful. I don’t want to feel bad about being mad about you being a jerk.”
He reaches out and she lets him take her hand.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers and it’s not just about Sam. It’s about everything and nothing at all. She nods.
“Me too,” she breathes.
They linger there for a moment until Quinn takes her hand out of his and touches his face softly before walking away. He watches her go down the hall and join Sam, linking hands. She looks back at him over her shoulder, giving him the tiniest nod.
Finn feels, for the first time in weeks, free from his guilt. She’s still not his, but he can live again.
When Finn gets back together with Rachel, the corners of Quinn mouth curve up a little bit. He grins.
She may be happy with Sam, but she still cares about him and that’s all he needs at this point.
Author: xfindyourlight
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Finn, Puck, Quinn, Sam, Rachel, Kurt; one sided Finn/Quinn and Puck/Quinn, Sam/Quinn, Finn/Rachel
Summary: Finn doesn't remember ever her smiling like this before.
So Finn turned her down. It would’ve been so easy. Rachel was being crazy and Quinn was right there, just the way he liked to remember her. But he couldn’t. Most of the time, Rachel was pretty cool and he loved her and all and Quinn hurt him so bad. Yeah, he’d always love her, but he couldn’t do it again. She broke his heart in a big way and it’d never be the same as it was.
So Finn turns her down and he sees her sad eyes in his dreams that night. But Rachel comes around and he’s really happy and stuff and that shade of hazel green starts to fade from his memory. Things are good. Things are very good.
That is, until Quinn sees Sam Evans. Now, instead of wandering the halls like a lost soul, ignored and invisible, she’s always attached to Sam’s arm. The quarterback and head cheerleader. It’s so iconic or irony or whatever that it make Finn sick.
She looks so happy. Finn doesn’t remember ever seeing her smile like this before. It’s real, it’s genuine, it’s not forced. It makes him nauseous. Rachel has started to notice how distracted he gets, but she hasn’t noticed it only happens when Quinn is laughing at one of Sam’s jokes or Sam is softly kissing her forehead. He plays it off as though he’s sick, so Rachel give him bottles and bottles of vitamins and some immune system stuff. Like a good boyfriend, he takes them (and by like a good boyfriend, he means he takes them because Rachel reminds him all the time to), but they don’t help him fall asleep when memories of the blondes play in his head.
Puck is pissed. Finn and him are okayish now and Puck doesn’t say anything about it, but he can see it. Yeah, Finn is kind of dumb, but he notices a lot more than people give him credit. He sees the flash in anger in Puck’s eyes and how his hands tend to destroy anything when he sees them together.
Quinn can be a real bitch, but she’s got the three of them wrapped around her finger.
It’s so stupid. Even by his standards, it’s a bad idea, but he and Puck do it. Finn’s not really sure why he even thought it would help. It was just misplaced rage on the person who wasn’t really their problem.
Quinn breaks form immediately. Her pom-poms are on the ground and she’s on the field before Ms. Sylvester can even scream her name. She looks like she’s flying; she’s running so fast across the field. Finn and Puck stand by awkwardly, suddenly becoming aware of how freaking stupid that was. There’s a small crowd around Sam, all trying to help. Quinn is teeny compared to the burly football players, but she rips them out of her way, like a lioness fighting for her cub. They disperse uncomfortably and Finn gets a good view of the damage they’ve caused. Sam’s helmet is a good foot or two away from his head and he’s sporting a pretty intense gash across his face. Quinn softly brushes his hair out of his eyes as he heaves for the breath he lost and she takes his hand and holds it tight, even while the nurse and Coach Beiste look him over. It’s decided that it’s best to take him off the field in a stretcher in order to let him breathe right and to make sure he’s not seriously hurt. Quinn is brushed aside in the effort to get him onto it and she looks furious. There’s no real proof that Finn and Puck caused him to get hurt, but Quinn knows. It’s like she can smell it on their guilt. The glare she shoots Puck is enough to light something on fire and Finn gets ready for it himself. But when her eyes shift to him, she looks angry, yeah, but she looks so disappointed too. His lips fall open and he goes to say something, anything, but she’s shaking her head and turning away to catch up with Sam, who’s being carried away.
Finn throws up.
He can’t sleep anymore. Every time he tries, he sees those disappointed eyes and thinks about how he could’ve had her again. He tries everything and anything to get sleep, to be free even for just a few hours. He’s even tried Kurt’s teas and facemasks and all that, but it doesn’t help. And Kurt’s pity does nothing to make it better. Rachel notices this time. He can’t focus on anything and he’s lost weight and looks pale. He’s consumed in guilt and loss. His sad stares in Quinn’s direction, which are met with an icy cold shoulder, are noticed. Rachel tries everything to regain his attention. She cries, screams, sings, talks to him, even goes so far to fake a pregnancy (Finn doesn’t believe it’s his this time) to get something. But he can’t do anything. He’s too sleep deprived, too distracted. Rachel breaks up with him, conveniently the day that Jesse texts her from California.
It’s just another thing that makes Finn feel crappy.
He apologizes to Sam, who’s cool enough to totally forgive him. He’s injured a few muscles in his back, so he’s out of football for a few weeks, but he’s expected to make a full recovery, so it’s not a problem. Quinn is still angry. She’s like an Olympian champion at holding grudges and Finn knows it. But one day, she comes up to him in the hall and Finn feels the tiniest twinge of hope.
“Please,” she says, “take care of yourself. Sleep, eat, all that. You look awful. I don’t want to feel bad about being mad about you being a jerk.”
He reaches out and she lets him take her hand.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers and it’s not just about Sam. It’s about everything and nothing at all. She nods.
“Me too,” she breathes.
They linger there for a moment until Quinn takes her hand out of his and touches his face softly before walking away. He watches her go down the hall and join Sam, linking hands. She looks back at him over her shoulder, giving him the tiniest nod.
Finn feels, for the first time in weeks, free from his guilt. She’s still not his, but he can live again.
When Finn gets back together with Rachel, the corners of Quinn mouth curve up a little bit. He grins.
She may be happy with Sam, but she still cares about him and that’s all he needs at this point.