Fic: Acceptance (1/1)
Title: Acceptance
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: G, I think.
Spoilers: "Journey," if you squint.
Warnings: Character Death
Summary: Future!Fic. An attempt at this prompt: Shortly before the Oscars, for which Rachel has been nominated, Rachel Berry is killed. Whether she is murdered or dies in an accident is up to the author. Rachel wins and her wife, Quinn, must receive the award. I would like it if the Oscar is the last award Rachel needed for her EGOT.
A/N: This is a different format for me - it's either all dialogue or there's no dialogue, depending how you look at it. Hopefully it's decent, anyhow!
I left my phone at home on Monday. It was sitting right on the kitchen table - the simplest thing to remember, in its bright green case. Rachel had hated the case since the minute I got it, protesting that it clashed with all of her outfits. But I kept it, partly because it was my favourite color, and partly because it annoyed her. And I should have seen it there that day, on the table, but it was under a pile of magazines, and I forgot it. And on any other day, it wouldn’t have mattered in the least. But on Monday it did.
We’d had an amazing life, Rachel and I. Who would have believed that two girls from Lima could grow up to be who we’d become? We’d left for New York at different times - Rachel had left to be a star, and I’d stayed behind to care for Mom after her heart attack. Three years later, though, after her sudden death, I’d decided that I badly needed a life change. I’d enrolled at NYU, paying my own way with the enormous amount of money that Mom had left me in her will - she’d cleaned out Dad pretty good in the divorce, because of the adultery clause in their prenup. I studied law - it was almost funny, the blonde cheerleader in law school like a Reese Witherspoon movie, but I loved it. I devoured every case, every book that I could read. I articled at one of the best firms in the country, and they offered me a job at the end of it.
The new job meant eighty-hour weeks, and no time for anything outside of work, but I was okay with that. My only meaningful high-school relationship had produced a child that I put up for adoption, and I had no urge to go down that road again. So I threw myself into the work. I got a reputation, of course - people at the office, guys particularly - they called me the Ice Princess. But I could have beat the pants off them in any courtroom, on any case, and so I didn’t bother worrying about anything they had to say. And then one day Stephens, one of the senior partners, called me into his office and explained that they needed a fresh face in their entertainment division. It wasn’t where I’d dreamed of working, but I knew better than to argue. And then, when my secretary ushered in my very first client, I nearly fainted.
I had followed Rachel’s career on the news, of course - she was the most famous person ever to come out of Lima, so it was hard not to be interested despite our rather chequered relationship in high school . Her first award was an Emmy, for Guest Actress in a Comedy - she’d played a character so remarkably similar to her high school self that I couldn’t help but laugh when I watched it and wonder if it had been written by her. Astoundingly, she’d followed that up the very next year with a Tony, for her performance as Elphaba. And I’d actually watched live and held my breath three years later when they announced the Grammy for Song of the Year - and she won again. But I had no idea she’d ever done business with Bob Masterson, the old coot whose job I’d been forced into. And she had no idea I worked at the firm she’d visited so many times. We talked for hours that first night, over a generous number of drinks billed to the firm.
Her life, despite the fact that she was famous, was remarkably similar to mine - all work, and no play, that sort of thing. She’d come to the firm that day to have a contract drafted for an upcoming movie appearance, as it turned out. The night ended with a promise that we’d see each other the next week, when I had her preliminary contract done. It turned out that neither of us could wait that long - we called each other at the same instant the next afternoon.
I don’t know exactly how it happened, even now, but we were in bed together before the end of that week. We were lovers, and then we were friends, and before long we were family. The movie project she’d come to see me about was cancelled - which was a good thing, because I saw the script and it was a stinker - but we were always grateful to it all the same, because it brought us together. Five years later, we adopted our first child. She was gorgeous - every bit the spitting image of Rachel, even though they didn’t share a single gene. Looking at her now, beside me, it’s hard to believe she’s nearly ten.
When the script for Flesh and Bone arrived on Rachel’s desk, we knew there was something special about it. It spoke very deeply to us both, and we immediately thought it was a story that badly needed to be told. I wrote her contract, but my signature carried a lot more weight now that I was a senior partner. Even before the film was halfway through production, we began to hear all the positive buzz around it, and we were so gratified. When it wrapped, and was being talked about as an Oscar contender before anyone ever saw a minute of it, we were overjoyed. It was Rachel’s dream, you know? Her absolute greatest fantasy in life - to win them all, the EGOT. The film was officially nominated, and the dream was in reach at last.
But I drifted a little there, didn’t I? I’m sorry about that. On Monday I forgot my phone - and then I got a call at the office from the NYPD. They - I’m sorry. They said there’d been an accident. I begged them - tell me she’s okay. But they couldn’t. They couldn’t tell me that. Tina - our daughter - I picked her up at school, but I stopped at home first and picked up my phone. There was a voicemail. I…
She was on the phone, leaving me a voicemail, when it happened. I could hear it on the message - squealing brakes, and a crash, and then - then there was a gasp. It was hardly audible, but believe me - I’ve listened to that message a thousand times, and I’m sure it’s there. It was her last breath. Her very last one before her light went out of the world.
…I’m sorry, I’m going to get through this, I promise. Anyway, I missed my wife’s very last breath, is my point. And so, when the Academy invited me to be here tonight, even though it’s only been two days since Tina and I laid her to rest, I couldn’t decline. I had to be here, in case she beat the odds one more time and won. And here we are - this statue in my hand has her name on it. She did it, she - she won. And it fell to me to accept this on her behalf.
I know I’ve rambled a long time, and I’m profoundly grateful to the Academy, and to all of you, for letting me finish - if I could just say a few more words? Yeah? Okay, thank you.
Rachel, sweetheart - this is yours. You earned it, you did it, all of your hard work and drive paid off like you knew it would. I love you, and I miss you so much - I never would have believed back at McKinley, when I was throwing slushies at you, that you’d one day turn out to be the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I never thought we’d be friends, let alone family. I will always, for now and for eternity, love you. And Tina’s asked me to say just a few words she wrote, because she didn’t think she could get through them if she tried.
Mommy - I never really understood why winning awards was so important to you. Mama said you were competitive, that you needed to be the best, and I know sometimes I didn’t help - I was jealous, I guess, of the time you spent at work. And I’m sorry. But I think I understand now - these aren’t just awards, they’re monuments, like the pyramids. They’re so that I can look at all of them in the house now that you’re gone, and say “see? My Mommy was amazing, and here’s the proof.” I get it - and I’m proud to be your daughter.
…Sorry. I…sorry. So, on behalf of Rachel, and Tina, and myself, I’d like to thank the Academy. You made her dream come true, even if she couldn’t be here in person to see it. But wherever she is, I know that she’s smiling tonight. Thank you.
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: G, I think.
Spoilers: "Journey," if you squint.
Warnings: Character Death
Summary: Future!Fic. An attempt at this prompt: Shortly before the Oscars, for which Rachel has been nominated, Rachel Berry is killed. Whether she is murdered or dies in an accident is up to the author. Rachel wins and her wife, Quinn, must receive the award. I would like it if the Oscar is the last award Rachel needed for her EGOT.
A/N: This is a different format for me - it's either all dialogue or there's no dialogue, depending how you look at it. Hopefully it's decent, anyhow!
I left my phone at home on Monday. It was sitting right on the kitchen table - the simplest thing to remember, in its bright green case. Rachel had hated the case since the minute I got it, protesting that it clashed with all of her outfits. But I kept it, partly because it was my favourite color, and partly because it annoyed her. And I should have seen it there that day, on the table, but it was under a pile of magazines, and I forgot it. And on any other day, it wouldn’t have mattered in the least. But on Monday it did.
We’d had an amazing life, Rachel and I. Who would have believed that two girls from Lima could grow up to be who we’d become? We’d left for New York at different times - Rachel had left to be a star, and I’d stayed behind to care for Mom after her heart attack. Three years later, though, after her sudden death, I’d decided that I badly needed a life change. I’d enrolled at NYU, paying my own way with the enormous amount of money that Mom had left me in her will - she’d cleaned out Dad pretty good in the divorce, because of the adultery clause in their prenup. I studied law - it was almost funny, the blonde cheerleader in law school like a Reese Witherspoon movie, but I loved it. I devoured every case, every book that I could read. I articled at one of the best firms in the country, and they offered me a job at the end of it.
The new job meant eighty-hour weeks, and no time for anything outside of work, but I was okay with that. My only meaningful high-school relationship had produced a child that I put up for adoption, and I had no urge to go down that road again. So I threw myself into the work. I got a reputation, of course - people at the office, guys particularly - they called me the Ice Princess. But I could have beat the pants off them in any courtroom, on any case, and so I didn’t bother worrying about anything they had to say. And then one day Stephens, one of the senior partners, called me into his office and explained that they needed a fresh face in their entertainment division. It wasn’t where I’d dreamed of working, but I knew better than to argue. And then, when my secretary ushered in my very first client, I nearly fainted.
I had followed Rachel’s career on the news, of course - she was the most famous person ever to come out of Lima, so it was hard not to be interested despite our rather chequered relationship in high school . Her first award was an Emmy, for Guest Actress in a Comedy - she’d played a character so remarkably similar to her high school self that I couldn’t help but laugh when I watched it and wonder if it had been written by her. Astoundingly, she’d followed that up the very next year with a Tony, for her performance as Elphaba. And I’d actually watched live and held my breath three years later when they announced the Grammy for Song of the Year - and she won again. But I had no idea she’d ever done business with Bob Masterson, the old coot whose job I’d been forced into. And she had no idea I worked at the firm she’d visited so many times. We talked for hours that first night, over a generous number of drinks billed to the firm.
Her life, despite the fact that she was famous, was remarkably similar to mine - all work, and no play, that sort of thing. She’d come to the firm that day to have a contract drafted for an upcoming movie appearance, as it turned out. The night ended with a promise that we’d see each other the next week, when I had her preliminary contract done. It turned out that neither of us could wait that long - we called each other at the same instant the next afternoon.
I don’t know exactly how it happened, even now, but we were in bed together before the end of that week. We were lovers, and then we were friends, and before long we were family. The movie project she’d come to see me about was cancelled - which was a good thing, because I saw the script and it was a stinker - but we were always grateful to it all the same, because it brought us together. Five years later, we adopted our first child. She was gorgeous - every bit the spitting image of Rachel, even though they didn’t share a single gene. Looking at her now, beside me, it’s hard to believe she’s nearly ten.
When the script for Flesh and Bone arrived on Rachel’s desk, we knew there was something special about it. It spoke very deeply to us both, and we immediately thought it was a story that badly needed to be told. I wrote her contract, but my signature carried a lot more weight now that I was a senior partner. Even before the film was halfway through production, we began to hear all the positive buzz around it, and we were so gratified. When it wrapped, and was being talked about as an Oscar contender before anyone ever saw a minute of it, we were overjoyed. It was Rachel’s dream, you know? Her absolute greatest fantasy in life - to win them all, the EGOT. The film was officially nominated, and the dream was in reach at last.
But I drifted a little there, didn’t I? I’m sorry about that. On Monday I forgot my phone - and then I got a call at the office from the NYPD. They - I’m sorry. They said there’d been an accident. I begged them - tell me she’s okay. But they couldn’t. They couldn’t tell me that. Tina - our daughter - I picked her up at school, but I stopped at home first and picked up my phone. There was a voicemail. I…
She was on the phone, leaving me a voicemail, when it happened. I could hear it on the message - squealing brakes, and a crash, and then - then there was a gasp. It was hardly audible, but believe me - I’ve listened to that message a thousand times, and I’m sure it’s there. It was her last breath. Her very last one before her light went out of the world.
…I’m sorry, I’m going to get through this, I promise. Anyway, I missed my wife’s very last breath, is my point. And so, when the Academy invited me to be here tonight, even though it’s only been two days since Tina and I laid her to rest, I couldn’t decline. I had to be here, in case she beat the odds one more time and won. And here we are - this statue in my hand has her name on it. She did it, she - she won. And it fell to me to accept this on her behalf.
I know I’ve rambled a long time, and I’m profoundly grateful to the Academy, and to all of you, for letting me finish - if I could just say a few more words? Yeah? Okay, thank you.
Rachel, sweetheart - this is yours. You earned it, you did it, all of your hard work and drive paid off like you knew it would. I love you, and I miss you so much - I never would have believed back at McKinley, when I was throwing slushies at you, that you’d one day turn out to be the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I never thought we’d be friends, let alone family. I will always, for now and for eternity, love you. And Tina’s asked me to say just a few words she wrote, because she didn’t think she could get through them if she tried.
Mommy - I never really understood why winning awards was so important to you. Mama said you were competitive, that you needed to be the best, and I know sometimes I didn’t help - I was jealous, I guess, of the time you spent at work. And I’m sorry. But I think I understand now - these aren’t just awards, they’re monuments, like the pyramids. They’re so that I can look at all of them in the house now that you’re gone, and say “see? My Mommy was amazing, and here’s the proof.” I get it - and I’m proud to be your daughter.
…Sorry. I…sorry. So, on behalf of Rachel, and Tina, and myself, I’d like to thank the Academy. You made her dream come true, even if she couldn’t be here in person to see it. But wherever she is, I know that she’s smiling tonight. Thank you.