Fic: Identity (4/9) Part 2
Saturday morning dawned clear and warm, and Rachel and Quinn departed the Berry house with a picnic basket in hand.
“Where would you like to go first?” Rachel asked. “Any preference?”
“Well - it’s sort of weird,” Quinn scuffed her tennis shoe on the pavement.
“It’s your tour - wherever you might want to go, we’ll go.”
“Do you know where that cemetery is? The one that woman was talking about?”
“Sure,” Rachel nodded. “It’s not far. Did you want to-“
“Kind of. I told you it was weird, I just - I’d like to see it,” she blushed. “Never mind, we don’t have to.”
Rachel extended a hand. “This way, madam.” Quinn took it with a grin.
Rachel was true to her word - Gethsemani cemetery was no more than twenty minutes’ walk. The grave marker proved easy to find as well, as it was ringed with signs pounded into the grass, all imploring the police department not to dig it up - the irony that they were disturbing the grave themselves apparently lost on the protestors. Quinn pushed a few of them aside and crouched in front of the stone to read it.
QUINN MARY FABRAY
BELOVED OF JUDY, RUSSELL AND FRANNIE
BORN SLEEPING
“MAY HER LIGHT BE ALWAYS UPON US”
She was startled out of her reverie as Rachel reached in front of her to place some stones on top of the marker. Quinn wanted to ask what it meant, but the look on her face kept her from interrupting. Behind them, someone cleared their throat, and they jumped.
“Excuse me,” a soft, feminine voice said, “if you two are protestors, could you come back later? I’d like a minute alone with my sister, if that’s okay.”
Quinn stood and turned around so fast she nearly fell. The woman that stood there was older than her by five or ten years, but Quinn could see a reflection of herself in her features. She wore an old pair of jeans with a checked shirt and boots, and her brunette hair was cut in a short bob. The woman paled.
“My god. Oh, my god,” she whispered. “You’re her - the one the police called me about? You look just like mom.”
“Who - do I know you?”
“My name is Frannie.” Quinn looked back at the grave marker. “If - if you’re really,” she struggled, “then I’m your older sister.”
There was a long, awkward moment as the two of them stared at each other, uncertain what to do next. Rachel finally rolled her eyes and nudged Quinn forward. “Go,” she whispered. Quinn did, and Frannie started forward at the same time - they met halfway, the older Fabray wrapping the younger in a crushing hug.
“Quinn - you’re really Quinn! How - this doesn’t make any sense! None of it - why would Mom lie about-” she pointed at the grave marker.
“I don’t know,” Quinn was crying openly. “I don’t remember any of it.”
“It’s okay,” Frannie soothed, rubbing her back. “It’s okay, Quinn. We’ll figure it out together, okay? Come on - we should head over to the police station. I just got into town an hour ago - I wanted to stop here first.”
“Rachel?” Quinn called her over.
“It’s okay,” Rachel promised. “I’ll let you two-“
“No,” Quinn insisted. “I need you with me, please?”
Frannie disengaged herself from Quinn to look over. “You’re welcome to come,” she promised. That was all the convincing it took for Rachel to take Quinn’s hand and walk out of the graveyard with them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So, you had no idea?” Sergeant Daniels shook his head. “I don’t know how that could be.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Frannie shrugged. “I remember the day Quinn was going to be born - I was seven. My parents - sorry, our parents, I guess, they left me with a babysitter when they went to the hospital. I didn’t see them again until the next morning - Dad came home by himself and said he had to talk to me. He said,” she cleared her throat, “that, uh, that my new sister had been called back to heaven. That she wouldn’t be coming home, and that mommy was going to be very sad, so not to be a bother when she got back.”
“And that was the last you spoke of it?”
“Of course not,” she scowled. “There was the funeral, of course, and when I was older I asked mom what had happened. When I was old enough to understand what stillborn meant, she explained it to me.”
“But there was never any indication-“
“That she’d faked her own daughter’s death? No, actually, she neglected to mention that. I was, uh, a bit taken aback when your officers called me yesterday and explained what was going on.”
“Of course,” Daniels agreed.
“But after seeing her,” she squeezed Quinn’s hand, “there’s no doubt. She looks just like her mother.”
“Speaking of her mother...”
“As I told your officers, I don’t know where she is. We’ve grown apart, and both moved away. After the divorce-“
“Your parents are divorced?”
“Well, yes, but I meant my divorce. We haven’t talked much since then.”
“Do you know where your father is?”
“Last I heard, he was in jail.”
“What?” Daniels exploded. He turned to berate the officer beside him. “I told you to search prison records, dammit!”
“Not here,” Frannie shook her head. “In Mexico.”
“Why?” Quinn looked at her.
“Why was he in jail, you mean?” Quinn nodded. “Russell had a bit of a gambling problem. That’s why mom divorced him about a year after we left Lima. I heard he tried to hold up a bank to pay his debts, and the Mexican police threw him in jail.”
“I don’t suppose you know where in Mexico?”
“No. By that point I’d long since stopped caring.”
“That’s fine - we’ll do some digging. You mentioned your mother had moved away - where was she living the last time you talked?”
“Some little town in Arizona. Bisbee, I think.”
“You’ve been very helpful, Miss McIsaac, thank you.”
“Fabray - I haven’t changed it back legally, but I don’t go by that anymore.”
“Miss Fabray, then. One final question, if I may - do you recognise the necklace that Quinn’s wearing?”
“Yeah, that’s mom’s cross. I’ve got a picture of her wearing it,” Frannie opened her purse and removed her wallet, pulling a small picture out. “Here,” she handed it to Quinn, who gasped and clutched her head.
“Are you okay?”
“I’ve seen that picture - that exact picture,” Quinn whispered.
Daniels took the picture, giving it a cursory glance. “Certainly looks like the same one. Thank you again, Miss Fabray,” he shook Frannie’s hand. “If it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition, could we ask that you remain in town for a few days until we have this investigation wrapped up?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Frannie assured him, looking at Quinn. “We’ve got some serious catching up to do. Where are you staying, little sister?”
“I’m living with Rachel at her parents’ house,” Quinn replied dazedly. “Look - I don’t want to seem rude, or whatever, but could we maybe do this later? This is all too much - I need some time. I can’t do this right now.”
Rachel swung into action. “Here’s our address,” she scribbled it down and passed it to Frannie. “Would you join us for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Of course,” Frannie gave Quinn a fierce hug. “Take all the time you need, okay? I’m not going anywhere, and we’ll take it all at whatever pace you need to go - I’m not losing my sister again. I’ll see you tomorrow night,” she stood and left the room, heels clicking on the floor, and Quinn trembled.
“Rachel, I don’t think I can get up,” her voice was tremulous. “It feels like the room is tilting, and I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Don’t rush,” Daniels assured her. “We’ll leave you two alone.” He beckoned the officer to leave and followed him out, shutting the door. Quinn collapsed into Rachel’s arms, sobbing.
“Shh,” Rachel held her tightly. “It’s okay, Quinn. I’m here.”
“Thank you,” Quinn managed. “Thank you for being here. I can’t do this alone.”
“I’ll be here as long as you want me to be, Quinn, I assure you.” They sat that way until Quinn had cried herself dry, and Rachel stood to help her up.
“I can’t,” Quinn whispered. “Rachel, I can’t.”
“You can, I promise,” Rachel replied. “Lean on me, okay? I’ll get you home.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They made it - slowly, but they made it. James saw them approaching through the front window and rushed to open the door. “What happened?” he demanded.
“Quinn’s had a bit of a shock,” Rachel whispered. “I’ll explain later.”
“Can you lay down with me?” Quinn mumbled.
“Of course, Quinn,” Rachel helped her up the stairs, and she collapsed onto Rachel’s bed fully dressed. “Do you want-“
“Nothing, just you,” Quinn insisted. “Just hold me, please?”
Rachel did, as tightly as she could manage. Quinn trembled in her grip, and she reached down to pull a blanket over the both of them. She meant to stay awake, in case Quinn needed her, but as she listened to her soft breathing, she found herself slipping under as well.