We Are Going to Make It: Chapter 12/16
“Bye, Dad!” Rachel called out cheerfully after her parents, whose hands were entwined, as they walked into the chilled air towards their car.
As she shut out the winter breeze, she turned to face her now empty home with a sigh. It was Sunday night and Rachel Berry was home with the entire house to herself. It was a rarity to say the least. On a normal Sunday evening, the starlet would be standing behind a thick red velvet curtain, her hands shaking with adrenaline, anticipating its rise. Due to a lack of tickets purchased, the Sunday night show had been cancelled rewarding the brunette with a surprise day off. Her first thought was to run to her phone and call Quinn to invite her over. Then she remembered the conversation they had had just a few hours earlier.
“Hello, Quinn!” Rachel exclaimed after she had seen the blonde’s name on the bright screen of her cell phone.
“Hey,” she replied quietly.
Rachel immediately noted the tired, melancholy tone of her best friend and was concerned.
“Is everything alright?”
There was silence on the other end of the line, only causing her anxiety to rise.
“Yeah, I just have a bit of…” the pause was deafening, “bad news.”
Rachel didn’t like where this was going.
“What’s the bad news?”
Quinn sighed, “Well I heard about the show being cancelled because they called me to tell me that I should pick up the money I paid for my ticket. I was planning on surprising you actually, but that plan fell through. My parents overheard me telling Sam about it at church this morning. My father,” her voice broke, “wants to have dinner tonight as a…family now that I don’t have plans.”
Rachel was a bit confused.
“Wait, why is this bad news for me?”
“Well, I was sort of hoping to spend tonight with you, together. But now my father…”
Quinn didn’t need to continue her sentence because Rachel already understood why this impromptu “family” dinner qualified as bad news.
“It’s alright. Although I would have loved to have spent the evening with you, and was actually planning on asking you myself, I don’t want to upset your father. We’ll talk later.”
“Wait-,”
Rachel abruptly snapped her phone closed and released a shaky breath. She understood Quinn’s father, what he has done to her, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. She was well aware of the fact that Russell Fabray was a raging homophobe, how he despised her fathers and in turn despised her and had forbidden Quinn to befriend her when they were children; but even being raised in the presence of two gay men had not made Rachel secure about her sexuality. She had dated only four boys in her life, all but one making a severe impact on her life. None of them, save for Finn, had made her feel the way she was supposed to. There were no butterflies or accelerated heartbeats with Jesse or Puck or even Sam for that brief, blink and you missed it moment in high school when Finn had left her for Quinn and both Sam and she had wanted to make the other jealous.
She hadn’t felt anything remotely close to love until she met Quinn Fabray that night the blonde had come to see her show. To say the brunette was shocked was an understatement. Imagine seeing your arch nemesis, past torturer, standing in the lobby of your theater with her holier than thou mother. Rachel had been horrified; but she felt something other than fear that first time seeing Quinn. Her palms had begun to moisten, and her heart beat had sped up. As she drank in the woman for the first time in five years, Rachel Berry lost herself in hazel swirls and perfect blonde hair. It scared her, truly it did. She was supposed to hate Quinn, not admire her flawless figure and porcelain skin. The girl had made her life a living hell for two years and then proceeded to basically ignore her for the next two, aside from the points when they battled for the other’s boyfriend.
Yes, her parents were gay, but that didn’t mean she was automatically okay with the prospect of being gay herself. Every time her fingers threaded through Quinn’s or she felt a slender hand wrap itself securely around her petite waist, Rachel felt overwhelming warmth she had never felt before. It was that feeling that helped prevent her fear and confusion from precluding her friendship with Quinn.
And here she stood in her empty foyer unsure of how to spend her evening. She decided to go upstairs and see if there was anything remotely interesting that she could do. As her small feet padded up the soft carpeted stairs, Rachel remembered something in her closet. She ran into her room and into the closet. After some digging, she found a small box, brown and worn, that she had kept after she repainted her bedroom. She dramatically brought it over to her bed and sat Indian style on the soft comforter. One deep breath and a sigh later, Rachel finally removed the top of the box. Her breath caught into her throat as she looked down into the contents of the box. A single rose, now shriveled up and frail, lay on top of a clean white card. With shaking hands, Rachel picked up the card and traced her thumb over the reassuring words. The instant she felt the word paper in her hands, the same feeling she had the night she received it returned to her so quickly that she didn’t even realize she began to cry.
It was her most prized possession. Whoever had given it to her had made her believe in herself more than she had ever before. And she promised herself that the moment she discovered who wrote it for her she would thank them until they begged her to stop. She placed the card back into the box, wiping away her tears in the process, and pulled out a sleek silver camera. As her fingers felt the smooth plastic, she remembered the nights she spent singing her heart out to the inanimate object as if it were a living, breathing audience. For a few minutes, she would lose herself in the music singing until she was brought abruptly back to reality when the degrading comments flooded her MySpace page.
Get sterilized.
She hadn’t recorded one in ages. A light bulb went on above her head. Quickly, Rachel returned to her closet and brought out her tripod and extended the legs. After positioning the camera at the right height, the same as high school since she still hadn’t grown an inch since then, Rachel realized that she didn’t even know what she was going to sing. As she began to run through her endless repertoire, her thoughts were interrupted by the harsh pitch of her doorbell. She shoved the camera and box back into her closet, suddenly ashamed by her attempt to revive her high school traditions, and raced down the stairs.
The instant she swung open the door, her heart breath hitched at who awaited her on the other side of the door. Quinn Fabray stood before her with labored breathing and tears running down her flushed cheeks as she choked on the cool winter air. Rachel didn’t care what was wrong or what had happened. All she knew was that she wanted to fix it and make it better. So she pulled Quinn’s shaking hand into hers and brought her into her home, closing out the world with the slam of her door. Carefully, Rachel guided the blonde upstairs into her bedroom and onto her bed. After taking off Quinn’s shoes and pulling down the covers, Rachel brought the woman into her arms and under the warm blankets. Quinn shuddered and shook and wheezed in and out as she released sob after sob. All Rachel did was hold her, her arms never relinquishing their grip, even when she felt tired towards the end because she had lost track of how long the woman had been crying for. Rachel knew she had to stay strong, that she would never let go.
Rachel began to stroke her soft arm and entangle her fingers in her blonde hair. It was remarkable how Quinn seemed to fit perfectly in her embrace, how perfect it felt to have her in her arms, how it made her heart pound and mind calm at the same time. Her scent overtook the brunette; the aroma was intoxicating. The body in her arms was still shaking and in an effort to assuage her pain, Rachel did was she did best; she sang.
It's going to be alright
It's going to be alright
I can tell by your eyes that you're not getting any sleep
And you try to rise above it, but feel you're sinking in too deep
Oh, oh I believe, I believe that
It's going to be alright
It's going to be alright
I believe you'll outlive this pain in you heart
And you'll gain such a strength from what is tearing you apart
Oh, oh I believe I believe that
It's going to be alright
It's going to be alright
When some time has past us, and the story if retold
It will mirror the strength and the courage in your soul
Oh, oh, I believe I believe,
I believe
I believe
I did not come here to offer you clichés
I will not pretend to know of all your pain
Just when you cannot, then I will hold out faith, for you
It's going to be alright
It's going to be alright
And just like that, the sobbing ceased. The frail body in her arms became still, save for the hypnotizing rise and fall of her chest. Rachel continued singing until she was sure Quinn was asleep. Finally, a calm haze overtook the two and Rachel simply stared at the blonde as she breathed in and out. Her lips were still, her eyes fluttering as she dreamed while safely in Rachel’s arms. It amazed Rachel how someone so beautiful could exist and actually wants, even enjoy her company, because Quinn truly was stunning, even after crying for three hours.
A feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that her meltdown had been caused by that ass of a man Russell Fabray. Ever since she was a young girl, Rachel had wanted to be friends with Quinn; but there was always something in the way, well someone. She never understood why the Fabrays hated her family, hated her father, until one day her parents broke down and told her the true reason that Rachel wasn’t allowed to be friends with Quinn
“Daddy, why doesn’t Quinn want to be my friend?”
Leroy brought his attention to his daughter who was looking up at him with innocent eyes. She was seven years old, addicted to riding her pink bike, and endlessly curious. He looked to his husband nervously.
“Would you like to be her friend?”
She smiled and nodded profusely.
“Of course I do, Daddy! Quinn always looks so sad and I really want a best friend. I want to make her not sad anymore so…”
Their normally chatty daughter was at a loss for words. Leroy sighed. How does a father tell his daughter that she cannot be friends with a girl because her father hated her and their family? How does he explain that some people think that being gay is evil even though he and his husband are happier than they have ever been?
“Rachel, do you know what religion Quinn follows?”
She nodded proudly.
“She is Christian,” she said with a confident grin.
“Good, and do you know what religion her daddy is?”
“Christian.”
“Right,” he nodded, squeezing his husband’s hand for support.
“Rachel, Dad and I went to the same school with Quinn’s dad. He-,” he paused, trying to find the right words, “He didn’t like your Dad and me very much.”
Her smile faltered.
“Why not?”
“Because in school, Dad and I were together and her father believes, because he is Christian, that when two boys or two girls love each other like I love your Dad that those boys or girls will go to Hell.
“But you and Dad are in love,” she retorted, unsure of why anyone would hate someone for being in love and rightly unsure.
“I know, sweetheart. Quinn’s father doesn’t like our family because we’re not like his.”
“Does Quinn think we’re bad too?” she asked quietly, her fingers crossed that the answer would be no.
“I’m not sure, but her father may be mean to you because of your father and I. Now listen carefully, Rachel. We are not bad people. Love is love and I never want you to feel bad about yourself because of anything Quinn or her father say to you. Do you understand? If she doesn’t want to be your friend, it will be because of her father not because she doesn’t like you. I cannot see how anyone could not like you,” he said with conviction
He took her face into his large hands and kissed her on the forehead.
“Do you understand me?”
She nodded and gave him a small smile.
“I understand, Daddy. I’m really happy I got you as my daddy instead of Quinn’s.”
From then on, she accepted the fact that she and Quinn could never be friends as long as her father was around; but then high school happened. Quinn began to bully her but not for the reasons Rachel thought she would have made fun of her for. She made fun of her because she though Rachel was ugly, nerdy, stupid, worthless. And it hurt. It hurt that Quinn actually believed what her father believed and it made high school hell; until Quinn was kicked out of her house, until Quinn became human. It was then, that Rachel decided to give friendship a try. Unfortunately, Quinn refused, only cementing the idea that she hated her into the ground. So they tolerated each other, passing each other in the hallways without a word, though Rachel was dying to wave or smile. She still wanted to make that little girl in the window smile.
Rachel would be lying if she said she didn’t have feelings for Quinn Fabray. She’s known that she didn’t just want to be her BFF since their coffee date. Ever since high school, there had been something about the girl that captivated Rachel like no one had ever captivated her before. Something about her smile, her confident gait, the way she could humiliate someone with the snap of her fingers made her feel something completely foreign yet exhilarated.
The night of their…coffee hangout Rachel knew she wouldn’t be able to hold back her feelings for much longer. Despite their rocky past, Rachel was more than willing after that evening to put it behind her, move one, and run head first into a friendship she had longed for ever since she was seven years old staring at the sad blonde in the window of a large white house. And now she had it. Now she was here, holding her best friend in her arms, rocking her to sleep and she wanted more. It surprised her, this new desire. Rachel knew she wanted things to much, but she had never wanted to kiss someone so much. She had never wanted to hold anyone closer, make anyone smile more, and love anyone harder until she met Quinn.
Before Quinn, Rachel’s life seemed to have hit a dead end. Night after night was spent alone in her room or performing. She was just so lonely. Living with her parents reminded her daily of the failure she had become. She was twenty-five, single, living at home, and performing in a mediocre rendition of Rent with people she could not stand to be around. It had been so long since she’d hugged someone other than her parents, kissed someone other than her short fling with Jesse in college. Loneliness was definitely an understatement; but right now, with Quinn, she felt far from lonely.
Rachel knew what loving Quinn would mean. It meant having to face Russell Fabray. It meant having to somehow get Sam out of the picture. And then there was the possibility, the terrifying possibility, of facing Quinn. What if Quinn didn’t feel the same?
No, that’s impossible.
But what if Rachel was just imagining everything? She had never had a best friend like this. She had never wanted to be around anyone this much. Could she have created this fantasy in her mind as she had done so many times before? It was a prospect that horrified her but seeing Quinn so tranquil, her lips slightly parted and eyes gently closed, made Rachel dismiss her fears. Before she could stop herself, Rachel leaned down and placed a light kiss on a smooth cheek. Her lips were tingling as she lifted her head to gaze upon the sleeping beauty. To her amazement, Quinn’s lips formed into a soft smile and she nuzzled closer into Rachel’s pounding chest. It was enough for Rachel to know she would wait until Quinn came to her. She would never hurt Sam by cheating with Quinn. No, if she was going to have Quinn she was going to have her the right way. Content with her plan, the brunette yawned and tightened her grip on the blonde as she let herself drift off into a dreamless sleep.
***
As she felt a smooth finger trace up and down her arm, Rachel slowly opened her eyes to meet the loving gaze of Quinn Fabray.
“Morning,” the blonde whispered in a husky voice causing Rachel to shiver.
“Hey,” she breathed back, soaking in the warmth from the sunlight and from Quinn.
She realized then the position they were in. Rachel’s arms were still firmly around Quinn’s waist, only now Quinn’s hand had snaked around her and pulled her even closer into the blonde. They could feel the other’s warm breath on their cheeks. It was moment so intimate that neither wanted it to end. Instead, Rachel raised her hand and brushed her thumb over her jawbone.
“How are you?” she asked, still unaware of the reason Quinn had been so upset the night before.
The blonde sighed and shifted out of Rachel’s arms. She propped herself up onto her elbow and looked back to her concerned best friend.
“The truth?” she asked, not sure if Rachel really wanted to know.
“Always.”
“I went to dinner with my parents last night.”
Rachel had no idea how dramatic Quinn could be.
“I am aware. What happened?”
She paused.
“Well, after our…after we hung out the other night Sam and I sort of got into an argument.”
“About…”Rachel inquired, though she had a feeling about what their “argument” was about.
Her eyes dropped, no longer deeply staring into Rachel’s.
“You,” she whispered.
Now Rachel was really confused. She thought the fight would have been about her father’s disapproval of their friendship not specifically about herself.
“What?” was all she could ask.
“He-he asked me what was going on between us,” she said shakily, her breath becoming more raged as her eyes began to well with tears.
Rachel’s eyes widened, trying not to feel happy about Sam’s sudden increase in perception.
“What did you say?”
Quinn released a breath as she looked out the window, trying desperately not to cry. Her happiness was fleeting as her heart broke at the sight of the woman she had fallen for. She realized that this wouldn’t be simple. No, it would be complicated, so very complicated. Sam had always been in the equation but she never realized how hard it would be for Quinn.
“I told him you were my best friend.”
Rachel tried not to smile. No one had ever called her their best friend.
“But then he asked me what he was to me and,” her head bowed as she suppressed a sob, “I couldn’t answer.”
“He’s your husband, Quinn,” Rachel stated.
Quinn leapt out of bed, suddenly infuriated by the situation.
“Don’t you think I know that?” she yelled, surprised by the volume of her voice.
“He hasn’t looked at me for the past two days. Then yesterday my father had to have that fucking dinner party with my mother. Sam told him that we were hanging out a lot, more than I was with him, and my father asked what was going on with us. I told him to mind his own business.”
Rachel gasped.
“He-,” her voice broke, “he called your dads faggots and then I slapped him before he could insult you. Before I could stop myself I ripped off that goddamned table cloth from the table and ran out before he could, before he could…” she couldn’t finish her sentence, the reality of her situation dawning on her as she stopped pacing the room.
She ran her shaking fingers through her messy hair, trying to hold on to the small bit of control she had though it was quickly slipping out of her grasp.
“Rachel, I couldn’t answer. Why couldn’t I answer?” she asked helplessly.
The brunette slowly got out of the bed and walked over to Quinn.
“Do you love him, Quinn?” Rachel asked as she stood face to face with the blonde.
Her eyes cast downwards towards the floor as she contemplated her answer.
“No,” she breathed, and Rachel released the breath she had been holding.
For some reason, this was more important than Quinn declaring her love for her. Sam had seemed to be dragging Quinn down with him into a boring life of basically solitude. She knew Quinn had been miserable with him but she also knew that she stayed with him for control; but after their marriage, Quinn realized that she never had any control. Her father had it and knew exactly what he wanted for his daughter. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
Rachel took Quinn’s chin and lifted it up so their eyes could meet. Two hazel orbs gazed back at her with a look of utter confusion, pain, and longing. Tears threatened to fall, but Rachel wouldn’t let them. She brushed away the small droplets of water and asked her one final question.
“What is going on with us, Quinn?”
The sun had finally risen and the light flooded the room illuminating the blonde woman standing before her. Her eyes glistened with tears yet she was stunning. Rachel’s breath caught in her throat and it took all she had not to kiss her then and there. She couldn’t cause Quinn anymore pain than she already was enduring. Quinn shook her head and placed her hand over Rachel’s that was currently stroking her cheek. The gesture stopped Rachel’s heart as she felt a surge of electricity run through her. Her hand was warm against hers and she didn’t want to face the question she had just asked, the answer now seeming irrelevant though in reality is was more than significant.
Suddenly, Quinn moved her hand and brushed away a lock of brown hair from Rachel’s cheek. Rachel shivered at the touch yet wanted more. It was a desire stronger than she had ever felt before. A fire ignited in the pit of her stomach as she longed to encompass that pair of soft lips with her own. Her breathing became arduous, her heart beat increasing as she felt Quinn’s breath hit her cheek.
“Quinn,” she breathed as her eyes closed.
She felt a shift in the blonde’s movement causing her eyes to immediately open. Something had changed. Quinn was no longer shaking or scared. She looked suddenly confident.
“Rachel,” she began, taking a tan hand in hers, “I don’t want to be best friends with you anymore.”
Rachel’s heart dropped.
“What?”
Quinn’s lips curled into a nervous smile as she squeezed the hand in hers.
“I want so much more.”