My Only Exception 1/20
Title: My Only Exception 1/20
Author: emmelia24
Rating: PG. Seriously, nothing happens.
Pairing: Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. This is purely and simply fiction. The characters belong to Fox and Ryan Murphy and a bunch of other people who I do not know.
Summary: It’s Faberry. Let’s leave it at that. I’m bad at summaries.
A/N: This is my first Faberry story, and I am quite nervous. Reviews would be lovely, but do not feel obligated. I appreciate every read. This will be a multi-part fiction and each Friday I will post a new part. Enjoy!
Quinn looked out the window and watched the rain drops dance down the glass.
She could hear the muffled sound of Schindler’s List coming from the living room above her. How did she get here? Oh yeah, she slept with Puck, got pregnant, lied to Finn, got kicked out of Finn’s house and landed here on planet Jew. Talk about culture shock. Honestly, she expected Finn to kick her out. It made sense then and it makes sense now. Of course Puck was there to take her in, even though Quinn really didn’t want him to take her in; but she had no choice. So she accepted his offer and moved into the small home. They don’t have a guest room, so Quinn has been sleeping in the basement on a cot. It’s peaceful down there, albeit lonely, but it’s better than being homeless.
The former Cheerio sighed into the window, thinking about her pathetic excuse for a life. Suddenly a kick brought her back to reality and her hand immediately gravitated to her stomach. Her hand rubbed it, as if she actually was rubbing her daughter. This baby is all she has left. Sure, she has Puck, but not really. He is all talk and no action. He said he’d take care of her but half the time he ignores her to play video games, masturbate or sext the newest hottie. Gently she traced hearts onto her stomach.
“Hey, baby,” she whispered “Do you want to hear what happened today? You’ll never guess, baby.”
Quinn did this every night. She sat at the window and talked to her daughter, telling her about her day and the like.
“Vocal Adrenaline came to our auditorium today and Jesse decided to leave the club. I always knew he was mean.”
The baby rolled over in her stomach. Quinn smiled and let out a giggle. It was like the baby read her mind.
“He dumped Rachel. She seemed upset.”
A sharp kick pierced at her stomach.
“I know, baby. She deserves better.”
And Quinn meant that. Rachel does deserve better. Sure she was a freak most of the time and wears an unhealthy amount of argyle, but that doesn’t mean she deserves a crappy boy friend. Quinn remembered being mean to Rachel, calling her Manhands, RuPaul, Treasure Trails and so on, drawing pornographic pictures of her on the bathroom walls. Honestly, looking back, she has no idea what she was thinking. She feels ashamed of herself for acting like she had. Now that she is not popular, Quinn can appreciate Rachel and the guilt of what she has done still won’t stop building. She is supposed to hate Rachel; but lately she hasn’t been feeling that way. Not that she wants to be her friend or anything. It’s just the brunette is the only one who doesn’t look at her like she has two heads. Plus, Jesse was a jerk.
Suddenly, a small knock came from her door.
Puck.
She sighed.
“Come in,” she said warily.
Puck walked in slowly, as if he was expecting to find her in labor. Moron.
“Hey,” he replies softly as he sat down in the chair beside her.
Quinn looked at him, really looked at him; she still doesn’t understand what possessed her to sleep with him.
“You okay?” he asked, not really caring.
Quinn nodded automatically. Her answer was always the same.
“How is she?”
Quinn smiled at the mention of her daughter. Her eyes gazed down at her stomach hoping for a kick but the baby was silent. That normally happened around Puck.
“She’s fine.”
Puck sighed, obviously hurt that that’s all he could get out of her.
“Well, good. I’ll be upstairs.”
Quinn saw the flash of pain in his eyes and immediately regretted being distant.
“Puck, wait,” she said quickly as she stood up.
He turned around, a hopeful smile on his face.
“Yeah?”
She took a deep breath, her hands still very much on her belly.
“I’m sorry,” she all but whispered.
He nodded and left silently. Quinn made her way over to her bed. Puck wants to keep her baby. She knows that. Does Quinn want to keep her? If she were to be rational and logical she would say no because her daughter deserves the best possible life. Just because her life is ruined doesn’t mean her daughter deserves the same. That is why adoption makes sense. Her daughter needs to be happy and she knows that having a teen mom and Puck for a dad does not ensure happiness. Now, if she were to be completely honest she would say she wants to keep her, badly. This baby is all she has and probably all she ever will have. Ever since her parents kicked her out, she’s become closer to the infant growing inside of her. Now she could distinguish when the baby was happy or fussy, when she wanted to be rubbed or talked to. It makes her feel needed, loved; but it would be selfish of her to keep her daughter just so she wouldn’t be lonely. So she sticks to being Rational Quinn, despite how much it hurts. For now she still pushes back the feelings, the desire to raise the baby. It hurts too much.
Slowly she fell down on the cot and glanced over at the portable clock Puck gave her. The washing machine started up again and the noise lulled Quinn to sleep.
9:27pm
She felt her eyelids drooping, fighting to stay awake. But what for? There was nothing to stay awake for. Her homework was finished and no way was she going to watch Schindler’s List. So she let her eyelids droop, praying that for the first time in weeks she would get a good night’s sleep. And she did, sort of.
Quinn finds herself in an open field, clutching her round stomach. In the distance she sees a piano; it’s black, a baby grand. Slowly she walks over to the object. Once she is there, her fingers gently touch the keys, craving the touch. They begin moving over the object and create music. Claire de Lune. It’s the first thing she plays and her fingers effortlessly hit the notes each one resonating within her soul. All of a sudden she feels a warm soft hand on her shoulder, rubbing it slightly. She smiles as her body melts at the touch. As she continues to play, the wind blows slightly causing something to brush by her porcelain cheek. She whips her face around and is greeted by the sight of a familiar girl. The brown luscious locks sway in time with the breeze as the girl smiles at Quinn, blinding her. The girl leans in and kisses her on the cheek.
“You’re not alone, Quinn,”
Quinn shot up and found herself sweating and hanging on to her stomach for dear life. Did she just dream that? She didn’t just dream that, right? It was pitch black and silent, save for her heavy breathing. A deep fire burned in the pit of her stomach. It startled her and she wondered if it’s heartburn or the baby. She was kicking like crazy, but it was a good crazy, a happy crazy. Quinn lied back onto her pillow, still rubbing her belly, questioning her sanity and something else too.a
Author: emmelia24
Rating: PG. Seriously, nothing happens.
Pairing: Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. This is purely and simply fiction. The characters belong to Fox and Ryan Murphy and a bunch of other people who I do not know.
Summary: It’s Faberry. Let’s leave it at that. I’m bad at summaries.
A/N: This is my first Faberry story, and I am quite nervous. Reviews would be lovely, but do not feel obligated. I appreciate every read. This will be a multi-part fiction and each Friday I will post a new part. Enjoy!
Quinn looked out the window and watched the rain drops dance down the glass.
She could hear the muffled sound of Schindler’s List coming from the living room above her. How did she get here? Oh yeah, she slept with Puck, got pregnant, lied to Finn, got kicked out of Finn’s house and landed here on planet Jew. Talk about culture shock. Honestly, she expected Finn to kick her out. It made sense then and it makes sense now. Of course Puck was there to take her in, even though Quinn really didn’t want him to take her in; but she had no choice. So she accepted his offer and moved into the small home. They don’t have a guest room, so Quinn has been sleeping in the basement on a cot. It’s peaceful down there, albeit lonely, but it’s better than being homeless.
The former Cheerio sighed into the window, thinking about her pathetic excuse for a life. Suddenly a kick brought her back to reality and her hand immediately gravitated to her stomach. Her hand rubbed it, as if she actually was rubbing her daughter. This baby is all she has left. Sure, she has Puck, but not really. He is all talk and no action. He said he’d take care of her but half the time he ignores her to play video games, masturbate or sext the newest hottie. Gently she traced hearts onto her stomach.
“Hey, baby,” she whispered “Do you want to hear what happened today? You’ll never guess, baby.”
Quinn did this every night. She sat at the window and talked to her daughter, telling her about her day and the like.
“Vocal Adrenaline came to our auditorium today and Jesse decided to leave the club. I always knew he was mean.”
The baby rolled over in her stomach. Quinn smiled and let out a giggle. It was like the baby read her mind.
“He dumped Rachel. She seemed upset.”
A sharp kick pierced at her stomach.
“I know, baby. She deserves better.”
And Quinn meant that. Rachel does deserve better. Sure she was a freak most of the time and wears an unhealthy amount of argyle, but that doesn’t mean she deserves a crappy boy friend. Quinn remembered being mean to Rachel, calling her Manhands, RuPaul, Treasure Trails and so on, drawing pornographic pictures of her on the bathroom walls. Honestly, looking back, she has no idea what she was thinking. She feels ashamed of herself for acting like she had. Now that she is not popular, Quinn can appreciate Rachel and the guilt of what she has done still won’t stop building. She is supposed to hate Rachel; but lately she hasn’t been feeling that way. Not that she wants to be her friend or anything. It’s just the brunette is the only one who doesn’t look at her like she has two heads. Plus, Jesse was a jerk.
Suddenly, a small knock came from her door.
Puck.
She sighed.
“Come in,” she said warily.
Puck walked in slowly, as if he was expecting to find her in labor. Moron.
“Hey,” he replies softly as he sat down in the chair beside her.
Quinn looked at him, really looked at him; she still doesn’t understand what possessed her to sleep with him.
“You okay?” he asked, not really caring.
Quinn nodded automatically. Her answer was always the same.
“How is she?”
Quinn smiled at the mention of her daughter. Her eyes gazed down at her stomach hoping for a kick but the baby was silent. That normally happened around Puck.
“She’s fine.”
Puck sighed, obviously hurt that that’s all he could get out of her.
“Well, good. I’ll be upstairs.”
Quinn saw the flash of pain in his eyes and immediately regretted being distant.
“Puck, wait,” she said quickly as she stood up.
He turned around, a hopeful smile on his face.
“Yeah?”
She took a deep breath, her hands still very much on her belly.
“I’m sorry,” she all but whispered.
He nodded and left silently. Quinn made her way over to her bed. Puck wants to keep her baby. She knows that. Does Quinn want to keep her? If she were to be rational and logical she would say no because her daughter deserves the best possible life. Just because her life is ruined doesn’t mean her daughter deserves the same. That is why adoption makes sense. Her daughter needs to be happy and she knows that having a teen mom and Puck for a dad does not ensure happiness. Now, if she were to be completely honest she would say she wants to keep her, badly. This baby is all she has and probably all she ever will have. Ever since her parents kicked her out, she’s become closer to the infant growing inside of her. Now she could distinguish when the baby was happy or fussy, when she wanted to be rubbed or talked to. It makes her feel needed, loved; but it would be selfish of her to keep her daughter just so she wouldn’t be lonely. So she sticks to being Rational Quinn, despite how much it hurts. For now she still pushes back the feelings, the desire to raise the baby. It hurts too much.
Slowly she fell down on the cot and glanced over at the portable clock Puck gave her. The washing machine started up again and the noise lulled Quinn to sleep.
9:27pm
She felt her eyelids drooping, fighting to stay awake. But what for? There was nothing to stay awake for. Her homework was finished and no way was she going to watch Schindler’s List. So she let her eyelids droop, praying that for the first time in weeks she would get a good night’s sleep. And she did, sort of.
Quinn finds herself in an open field, clutching her round stomach. In the distance she sees a piano; it’s black, a baby grand. Slowly she walks over to the object. Once she is there, her fingers gently touch the keys, craving the touch. They begin moving over the object and create music. Claire de Lune. It’s the first thing she plays and her fingers effortlessly hit the notes each one resonating within her soul. All of a sudden she feels a warm soft hand on her shoulder, rubbing it slightly. She smiles as her body melts at the touch. As she continues to play, the wind blows slightly causing something to brush by her porcelain cheek. She whips her face around and is greeted by the sight of a familiar girl. The brown luscious locks sway in time with the breeze as the girl smiles at Quinn, blinding her. The girl leans in and kisses her on the cheek.
“You’re not alone, Quinn,”
Quinn shot up and found herself sweating and hanging on to her stomach for dear life. Did she just dream that? She didn’t just dream that, right? It was pitch black and silent, save for her heavy breathing. A deep fire burned in the pit of her stomach. It startled her and she wondered if it’s heartburn or the baby. She was kicking like crazy, but it was a good crazy, a happy crazy. Quinn lied back onto her pillow, still rubbing her belly, questioning her sanity and something else too.a