Fic: Settle the Score (4/?)
Title: Settle the Score (4/?)
Author: cellochick92
Rating: Maybe R? For descriptions?
Word Count: 1671
Warning: Indirect account/discussion of abuse.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine =(
Summary: For xrainingsorrowx ’s prompt over at the rq_angst meme. “Quinn abused Rachel for so long, so she feels it's okay if Rachel returns the favor.”
______________________________________
Part One Part Two Part Three
Rachel sat in her desk, trying to focus on the teacher and failing miserably. She hadn’t seen Quinn yet, and she couldn’t quell the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew last night had been brutal for the blonde, and she had to blink back tears at the memory.
The look Quinn had given her at first, full of love and unadulterated hope, had made her heart clench painfully. But then, close on the heels of her heart, her head was screaming at her that Quinn had no right, no right, to look at her like that. The blonde didn’t deserve anything from her after her past behavior, and somehow the screaming in her head drowned out the aching in her heart.
She didn’t remember what exactly she had said to Quinn, but she certainly remembered the broken look in her hazel eyes. She didn’t remember exactly what she had done to Quinn, but she certainly remembered the pained gasp that had escaped her when she had tried to move. She didn’t remember what, exactly, had possessed her to do it, but she also remembered slipping out of the bed and leaving the blonde laying there alone, and that was what worried her now.
She knew she had hurt Quinn last night, worse than normal, and the fact that the blonde wasn’t in school made her worry that maybe, this time, she had taken it a step too far. That was always her deepest fear when she did this to Quinn- that one of these nights, she would go too far and hurt Quinn too much.
She was jerked from her thoughts by everyone in her class standing. Looking around in confusion, she sighed and just followed everyone, not particularly caring where they were going. As they filed into the auditorium, she sat in one of the rows close to the back, now a little curious as to what could possibly merit the entire student body population’s attention.
As everyone quieted, the lights dimmed, and a video started playing on the projector screen. Watching closely to try and figure out what the point of the assembly was, Rachel jerked back as though bitten when the word Abuse flashed across the screen. Unsure if she had maybe just imagined it there, she sat back and tried to remember how to breathe. As a picture of a woman who was beaten black and blue flashed across the screen, however, she inhaled sharply, feeling like someone had punched her. Suddenly, the screen was full of images of women and a few men who were all clearly victims of abuse.
As the images cycled through, Rachel felt herself shrinking smaller and smaller into her seat. Each of the victims had something that reminded her of Quinn, from that hopeful look to the way some of them seemed to be curling inward on themselves in an attempt to hide.
She tried desperately to repeat her mantra to herself that she was right in hurting Quinn, that it was fair, but as the pictures continued coming, she felt her grasp on the excuse slipping away.
The final blow came when a picture flashed onscreen of a teenage blonde. Her skin was mottled black and blue, but her eyes- they were the same clear hazel as Quinn’s, with that same look of hopeful adoration and utter love. She somehow felt it coming, but she was still unprepared when the next slide held the words, Rest in peace to these and all the other victims of domestic abuse.
The thought of that blonde, so very much like Quinn, being dead before her life had even truly begun was too much, and she could feel the tears slipping down her face. As the speaker came onstage and began to address the nuances of abuse, what caused it, and what could be done to prevent more tragic and unnecessary deaths, Rachel found her feet moving of their own accord.
She shuffled past the other students sitting in her row, fairly bolting for the exit as soon a she was in the aisle. The echoing voice of the speaker seemed to taunt her as she ran, discussing how abuse in any situation was wrong, and how it could never be justified. How nobody deserved it. She heard a teacher call out after her into the hall, but she just kept going, not stopping until she was seated in her car.
As she shut the door, she let the tears fall in earnest, and the only question running through her mind was Why?
Why had she done this to Quinn? Why did she hurt the other girl, when all she had ever wanted was love and acceptance? Why couldn’t she make herself stop?
Her tears finally began to slow, and Rachel exhaled, trying to regain control over her breathing. For the first time, in her head, she recognized what she had been doing to Quinn as abusive. No more excuses- just acknowledgment of the fact that she had been abusing the blonde.
She knew that, yes, Quinn had abused her for the better part of two years. She also knew that the blonde’s past behavior in no way excused her actions. The blonde hadn’t come to her trying to hurt her. She couldn’t justify her actions as self-defense.
The weight of what she had done and how much damage she had inflicted upon Quinn was sinking in, dragging her down into the cold embrace of guilt and fear. Guilt for the needless pain she was responsible for, and fear for the possible consequences of that pain.
She didn’t know how to fix this. Her actions had been purely vengeful in nature, lashing out at the person closest to her. She couldn’t simply wish away the damage she had caused, no matter how hard she tried. Her mistakes would leave permanent reminders for Quinn, possibly for the rest of her life, and the longevity of her actions brought a fresh wave of tears to Rachel’s eyes.
She knew she could never truly answer to herself why she had drawn this out for so long. Maybe she had repeated her mantra of It’s only fair so many times she had tricked herself into believing it. Maybe she had gotten caught up in the power she suddenly held over the blonde. Maybe she had lost sight of who she was, and had somehow transformed into this cruel, mean-spirited person she didn’t really know.
She looked at her hands on the steering wheel and felt like being sick as she recalled in vivid detail all of the times those hands had been laid on the blonde in anger. She didn’t know this person who lashed out at little to no provocation. She didn’t want to be this person.
She knew that maybe, if she hadn’t done so much wrong, she and Quinn could actually have worked. She never felt safer or more loved than when the blonde’s arms were around her, and in the rare moment where Quinn smiled it made her heart swell with happiness. The sudden thoughts of what might have been were overwhelming as she thought for the first time about what she had thrown away.
She knew that no matter how much she apologized things would never be completely the same between her and Quinn. She had put the blonde through too much for that to ever happen.
The more she thought about it, though, the more Rachel came to the conclusion that just because she could never take back entirely what she had done didn’t mean she couldn’t still try to fix it as much as possible. She owed it to Quinn to help mend everything she had broken, even if it was never enough.
She refused to let herself turn Quinn into just another statistic. She would not let Quinn end up like the girl in the video. Despite all of her actions speaking to the contrary, she cared deeply for the blonde, and she couldn’t stomach the idea of her just being gone like that.
Throwing the car in drive, she drove to Quinn’s house, trying to work out the best way to talk her newfound realizations through with the blonde. She knew it was going to take time for the blonde to begin to believe it wasn’t just another ploy, and she felt a stab in her chest at the thought of how many times she had wound the blonde up only to drag her back down to earth in a bloody mess.
Parking the car in the driveway, Rachel slowly stepped out. She knew Quinn’s parents weren’t home, and she cringed as she mentally added one more thing she had done wrong to her ever-growing list.
Your own parents don’t even want you, Quinn! Why the hell would anyone else? You’re a fucking mess, not good for anything. I don’t know why I even put up with you. you’re just lucky I’m so tolerant, cause otherwise? You’d be all alone, baby.
Her eyes slipped closed briefly at the memory of how she had taunted Quinn about how nobody wanted her. She knew that the reality of the situation was just that Quinn had assholes for parents, too busy drinking and fucking around to even remember they had a daughter.
Quinn had confessed her fear of being alone and unloved to Rachel near the beginning, before things got really bad, and she cringed as she remembered how she had manipulated the blonde using that information too. Everything the blonde had given her, she had thrown back in Quinn’s face in malice and spite, never once caring about the damage she was doing to the girl.
Grabbing the spare key from its spot under the flowerpot, Rachel unlocked the door and slipped inside, closing it quietly behind her.
Part Five
Author: cellochick92
Rating: Maybe R? For descriptions?
Word Count: 1671
Warning: Indirect account/discussion of abuse.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine =(
Summary: For xrainingsorrowx ’s prompt over at the rq_angst meme. “Quinn abused Rachel for so long, so she feels it's okay if Rachel returns the favor.”
______________________________________
Part One Part Two Part Three
Rachel sat in her desk, trying to focus on the teacher and failing miserably. She hadn’t seen Quinn yet, and she couldn’t quell the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew last night had been brutal for the blonde, and she had to blink back tears at the memory.
The look Quinn had given her at first, full of love and unadulterated hope, had made her heart clench painfully. But then, close on the heels of her heart, her head was screaming at her that Quinn had no right, no right, to look at her like that. The blonde didn’t deserve anything from her after her past behavior, and somehow the screaming in her head drowned out the aching in her heart.
She didn’t remember what exactly she had said to Quinn, but she certainly remembered the broken look in her hazel eyes. She didn’t remember exactly what she had done to Quinn, but she certainly remembered the pained gasp that had escaped her when she had tried to move. She didn’t remember what, exactly, had possessed her to do it, but she also remembered slipping out of the bed and leaving the blonde laying there alone, and that was what worried her now.
She knew she had hurt Quinn last night, worse than normal, and the fact that the blonde wasn’t in school made her worry that maybe, this time, she had taken it a step too far. That was always her deepest fear when she did this to Quinn- that one of these nights, she would go too far and hurt Quinn too much.
She was jerked from her thoughts by everyone in her class standing. Looking around in confusion, she sighed and just followed everyone, not particularly caring where they were going. As they filed into the auditorium, she sat in one of the rows close to the back, now a little curious as to what could possibly merit the entire student body population’s attention.
As everyone quieted, the lights dimmed, and a video started playing on the projector screen. Watching closely to try and figure out what the point of the assembly was, Rachel jerked back as though bitten when the word Abuse flashed across the screen. Unsure if she had maybe just imagined it there, she sat back and tried to remember how to breathe. As a picture of a woman who was beaten black and blue flashed across the screen, however, she inhaled sharply, feeling like someone had punched her. Suddenly, the screen was full of images of women and a few men who were all clearly victims of abuse.
As the images cycled through, Rachel felt herself shrinking smaller and smaller into her seat. Each of the victims had something that reminded her of Quinn, from that hopeful look to the way some of them seemed to be curling inward on themselves in an attempt to hide.
She tried desperately to repeat her mantra to herself that she was right in hurting Quinn, that it was fair, but as the pictures continued coming, she felt her grasp on the excuse slipping away.
The final blow came when a picture flashed onscreen of a teenage blonde. Her skin was mottled black and blue, but her eyes- they were the same clear hazel as Quinn’s, with that same look of hopeful adoration and utter love. She somehow felt it coming, but she was still unprepared when the next slide held the words, Rest in peace to these and all the other victims of domestic abuse.
The thought of that blonde, so very much like Quinn, being dead before her life had even truly begun was too much, and she could feel the tears slipping down her face. As the speaker came onstage and began to address the nuances of abuse, what caused it, and what could be done to prevent more tragic and unnecessary deaths, Rachel found her feet moving of their own accord.
She shuffled past the other students sitting in her row, fairly bolting for the exit as soon a she was in the aisle. The echoing voice of the speaker seemed to taunt her as she ran, discussing how abuse in any situation was wrong, and how it could never be justified. How nobody deserved it. She heard a teacher call out after her into the hall, but she just kept going, not stopping until she was seated in her car.
As she shut the door, she let the tears fall in earnest, and the only question running through her mind was Why?
Why had she done this to Quinn? Why did she hurt the other girl, when all she had ever wanted was love and acceptance? Why couldn’t she make herself stop?
Her tears finally began to slow, and Rachel exhaled, trying to regain control over her breathing. For the first time, in her head, she recognized what she had been doing to Quinn as abusive. No more excuses- just acknowledgment of the fact that she had been abusing the blonde.
She knew that, yes, Quinn had abused her for the better part of two years. She also knew that the blonde’s past behavior in no way excused her actions. The blonde hadn’t come to her trying to hurt her. She couldn’t justify her actions as self-defense.
The weight of what she had done and how much damage she had inflicted upon Quinn was sinking in, dragging her down into the cold embrace of guilt and fear. Guilt for the needless pain she was responsible for, and fear for the possible consequences of that pain.
She didn’t know how to fix this. Her actions had been purely vengeful in nature, lashing out at the person closest to her. She couldn’t simply wish away the damage she had caused, no matter how hard she tried. Her mistakes would leave permanent reminders for Quinn, possibly for the rest of her life, and the longevity of her actions brought a fresh wave of tears to Rachel’s eyes.
She knew she could never truly answer to herself why she had drawn this out for so long. Maybe she had repeated her mantra of It’s only fair so many times she had tricked herself into believing it. Maybe she had gotten caught up in the power she suddenly held over the blonde. Maybe she had lost sight of who she was, and had somehow transformed into this cruel, mean-spirited person she didn’t really know.
She looked at her hands on the steering wheel and felt like being sick as she recalled in vivid detail all of the times those hands had been laid on the blonde in anger. She didn’t know this person who lashed out at little to no provocation. She didn’t want to be this person.
She knew that maybe, if she hadn’t done so much wrong, she and Quinn could actually have worked. She never felt safer or more loved than when the blonde’s arms were around her, and in the rare moment where Quinn smiled it made her heart swell with happiness. The sudden thoughts of what might have been were overwhelming as she thought for the first time about what she had thrown away.
She knew that no matter how much she apologized things would never be completely the same between her and Quinn. She had put the blonde through too much for that to ever happen.
The more she thought about it, though, the more Rachel came to the conclusion that just because she could never take back entirely what she had done didn’t mean she couldn’t still try to fix it as much as possible. She owed it to Quinn to help mend everything she had broken, even if it was never enough.
She refused to let herself turn Quinn into just another statistic. She would not let Quinn end up like the girl in the video. Despite all of her actions speaking to the contrary, she cared deeply for the blonde, and she couldn’t stomach the idea of her just being gone like that.
Throwing the car in drive, she drove to Quinn’s house, trying to work out the best way to talk her newfound realizations through with the blonde. She knew it was going to take time for the blonde to begin to believe it wasn’t just another ploy, and she felt a stab in her chest at the thought of how many times she had wound the blonde up only to drag her back down to earth in a bloody mess.
Parking the car in the driveway, Rachel slowly stepped out. She knew Quinn’s parents weren’t home, and she cringed as she mentally added one more thing she had done wrong to her ever-growing list.
Your own parents don’t even want you, Quinn! Why the hell would anyone else? You’re a fucking mess, not good for anything. I don’t know why I even put up with you. you’re just lucky I’m so tolerant, cause otherwise? You’d be all alone, baby.
Her eyes slipped closed briefly at the memory of how she had taunted Quinn about how nobody wanted her. She knew that the reality of the situation was just that Quinn had assholes for parents, too busy drinking and fucking around to even remember they had a daughter.
Quinn had confessed her fear of being alone and unloved to Rachel near the beginning, before things got really bad, and she cringed as she remembered how she had manipulated the blonde using that information too. Everything the blonde had given her, she had thrown back in Quinn’s face in malice and spite, never once caring about the damage she was doing to the girl.
Grabbing the spare key from its spot under the flowerpot, Rachel unlocked the door and slipped inside, closing it quietly behind her.
Part Five