Fic: I Fear (I Have Nothing To Give)
Title: I Fear (I Have Nothing To Give)
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: R
Length: 11,327 total
Spoilers: Through 1x11 Hairography
Summary: Rachel tries to be there for Quinn.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters or the show.
A/N: This is a follow up to Why? It’s rather angsty through most of it. I promise a happy ending, though. Title is from Sarah McLachlan’s “Fear.” Unbeta’d. Apologies for any mistakes.
When Rachel arrived at school the next day, she was angry. She had spent the better part of an hour in a whisper (she would have shouted, but Quinn was asleep) match with her fathers, and they did not back down when she said she wasn’t going to school. They said it was not an option, and that they would take Quinn to the doctor for her follow up. It wasn’t until Quinn made her way quietly down the stairs and told Rachel to go to school that the stubborn brunette finally gave in. She didn’t know what to do when she was leaving, wanting to hug Quinn, but not wanting to upset her. She was scared because Quinn hadn’t looked at her since the previous night, and had spent the night crying until she physically couldn’t cry anymore, passing out on Rachel’s chest.
Rachel was tired, having spent the entire night comforting Quinn, and she felt emotionally drained. She walked the hallways in a daze, muscle memory the only thing keeping her going. When Rachel got to her locker, Finn and Puck were standing there, and they looked approximately the way she felt. Puck didn’t have anything rude to say, and Finn looked like he was about to cry.
When she reached them, she reached a hand up to cup Puck’s face. “Noah,” she whispered, but when her eyes welled up, he backed away and took off in the opposite direction. Rachel collapsed into Finn’s waiting arms, and he held her tighter than was comfortable, but she hadn’t let herself break down yet, and she needed it. She felt him shudder, and knew he was biting back his own emotion.
Later, when she asked Finn to borrow his car, she met Quinn and her fathers at the doctor. She gave them a look that let them know she knew she was in trouble, but this was not the time. They nodded and left the office, each giving Quinn a kiss on the top of her head. Rachel entwined her fingers with Quinn’s, but the blonde girl wouldn’t look at her.
She swallowed down her hurt, and pledged to herself to be there for Quinn, even if she was pushed away.
---
Two days later, Quinn was back in school. The glee kids were all trying to be supportive, and she tried to appreciate it, she really did. She could recognize that they didn’t mean any harm, at the least. Kurt complimented her dress (which she really didn’t want to hear), and fixed her hair when they were in Trig, but when he placed his hand on her shoulder and looked at her with concern, she felt like the weight of the world was pressing on her.
Quinn felt like she was drowning. If one more person asked her if she was okay she thought she might scream. Earlier she had actually had Finn crying on her shoulder. It was a feat, considering how much taller he was, and it was only when Rachel pulled him off of her that she was able to sneak away. She came out of the bathroom and saw Brittany walking down the hall in her direction. It took all her strength to not turn right around and hide again. Brittany walked over to her and smiled. Quinn blinked, but nodded when the other blonde girl asked her if she could watch her cheer routine and give her some pointers. They agreed to meet during lunch in the gym. When Quinn walked toward History class, she didn’t see Santana’s look of horror.
The dark-haired Cheerio hissed, “What are you doing, Brittany?”
Brittany looked at her in alarm. “I thought she might be able to help.”
“You do realize that she just had a miscarriage, right?” Santana then rolled her eyes, “You do know what that is?”
Brittany looked down and frowned, “Yes, Santana. I’m not stupid.” She raised her eyes and stared deep into the brown eyes in front of her, “I know everyone thinks I am, but I really thought that something that wasn’t about the baby might help Quinn. I’m sad, and cheering makes me feel better.” With that, she walked down the hall to English, leaving Santana staring after her.
Surprisingly, that was the only thing that was actually helpful to Quinn. She was indescribably grateful to the Cheerio for the distraction, however short-lived it was. Puck came into the gym as Quinn was leaving for her next class. Quinn bumped into his chest as he blocked her exit, and he grabbed her shoulders. She squirmed, and pushed at his chest, but he held her firmly to him. He cried softly into her hair when she finally stopped fighting him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly, and she couldn’t stop crying, either. She wished it would just stop. Her head hurt so badly from the constant pressure.
Rachel was in the locker room looking for Quinn when she overheard two familiar voices.
“I’m sorry.” There were a few beats of silence before the first voice continued, “I don’t think you’re dumb, Britt.” Rachel heard some ruffling and a locker closed. “It was a good idea. I think it helped.”
“I think so, too,” the blonde Cheerio finally responded. “And I know. Everyone just thinks I’m stupid because I’m blonde.”
Santana giggled, “Oh, is that what it is?”
“Yes.”
Once she heard telltale sounds of making out, Rachel snuck out of the locker room, realizing that Quinn probably wasn’t in there. She couldn't help feeling even more alone.
---
It had been two weeks, and Rachel was no closer to getting any kind of response from Quinn. The blonde had stopped staying in Rachel’s room, choosing instead to use the guest bedroom every night. It had been the room she was originally given when she moved in with the Berrys, but Rachel’s dads had been very understanding of them staying together. They trusted Rachel, and had always had a very open household.
Rachel peeked in the spare room nightly, checking on Quinn, but she always faced away from the door, so she never knew if she was sleeping or not. She didn’t want to disturb her if she was. Rachel ached for her. She just wanted to touch her, take the sadness from her eyes.
They still went to school together, but it was quiet. It was an empty kind of silence, uncomfortable, and Rachel always wanted to fill it. It was her nature to talk, and talk a lot, but she knew that it wasn’t helpful, so she remained silent.
When they arrived to school that morning, Rachel took Quinn’s hand in her own, just wanting to give her a little bit of … something. Support. Love. It didn’t really matter. She just wanted to convey that she was there. Something she didn’t know if Quinn really understood anymore.
Quinn faced her, but her face was stony. “What, Rachel?” She let out a sigh and looked away again.
Rachel swallowed, “I just-”
“I can’t take care of you, too. Not right now.”
With that, Quinn was out the door.
Rachel was still crying in her car ten minutes later when Miss Pillsbury tapped on the window. “Let’s talk, Rachel.”
Emma quickly peeked behind her desk. Nope. She was right. There were no brochures titled So you’re a lesbian and your girlfriend just lost her baby. She sighed. She was going to have to do this the hard way. The redhead peered across her desk at the singer who had her gaze firmly focused on a spot on the opposite wall.
“Rachel,” the counselor finally said, breaking the silence.
Rachel twitched in her seat, just once, and then broke down into tears. Her watery brown eyes met those of Miss Pillsbury, and she choked between quiet sobs. “I don’t know what to do. I’m trying to be supportive, but I don’t know what to do. She’s pushing me away. She’s completely shut down, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
Well, that wasn’t so difficult to draw out. Emma slipped on plastic gloves as inconspicuously as possible, and passed a box of tissues to the crying girl. She made a mental note to disinfect her office. “I don’t think you can fix it, Rachel. You just have to continue doing what you’re doing. Don’t push her.” Rachel hiccupped and Emma continued, “I know that’s hard, but she’ll come to you when she’s ready.”
“What if she’s never ready?”
Emma wondered the same thing.
---
The next day when they pulled onto the school’s campus, they saw Quinn’s mother. They got out of the car and walked toward her. Rachel looked at Quinn, not really expecting a response, but making sure she was okay if she left her with her mother. “Go to class, Rachel,” Quinn said, her voice barely above a whisper, though she still didn’t look her in the eye.
Rachel nodded. “Ms. Fabray,” she said coolly as she walked by. The blonde woman ignored her.
As the brunette entered the school, she felt a chill sweep down her back. Nothing good could come from that visit.
When Rachel got home after her dance class her dad looked at her sadly and glanced at the stairs. Rachel raced up, two steps at a time. She got to her room and slowly opened her door. Quinn was sitting on the edge of her bed, suitcase at her feet.
Rachel stood there, her left hand still holding the door handle. Quinn stared at her hands, folded in her lap, and when she spoke, Rachel could hear no inflection whatsoever.
“My mother said that she and daddy wanted me to come home.”
“Okay,” Rachel drew the word out, but said nothing more.
Quinn, still focused on her hands in her lap, continued, “I think it’s probably for the best. I don’t want to be a burden anymore to you or your dads. They’ve been very kind, but I shouldn’t keep putting them out.”
The brunette walked slowly to Quinn, dropping to her knees and taking the former cheerleader’s hands in her own. Rubbing her thumbs over Quinn’s knuckles she whispered, “Quinn, you’re not putting anyone out. They love having you here.” Her voice caught, “I love having you here.” She reached up, cupping Quinn’s cheek in her right hand and tilting her head to face her. “Look at me, please.” She knew she might be coming across as desperate, but she was scared. When Quinn looked at her finally, her hazel eyes looked cold. “I love you.” It was true. They hadn’t said those words to one another before, but it was true, and the veracity of her statement was clearly evident in her own deep brown orbs. Quinn’s eyes softened at the words, but only for a moment. She bit her lip and looked away. “I’m not going to tell you not to go back to your parents, Quinn. I just-I need you to know that you don’t have to feel obligated to. We want you here.”
Quinn knew that Rachel wasn’t lying, but she stood anyway, rubbing her now empty hands on the skirt of her dress. “I deserve to be there with them,” she muttered bitterly.
Rachel stood, steadying herself by grabbing Quinn’s hips gently. She brought her face to Quinn’s hesitantly. The kiss was brief, but Rachel tried to convey everything she had just said in it. When Quinn backed away, picking up her suitcase, Rachel just smiled at her. She would have time to cry later.
Quinn turned and walked to the bedroom door. And a whispered goodbye was all Rachel had left.
---
Quinn’s stay at home was just as before. It was exactly as if nothing had happened to interrupt her parents’ perfect life. They acted as if she had never been pregnant, and there was no family discussion over what had occurred. Quinn found that easier, and she was sure the same could be said for her parents.
They gave her the keys to her car, and the blonde easily slipped into the old routine. She woke up in the morning-not that she slept much at night-got ready, drove to school. School was more difficult. She realized she didn’t have the patience for anyone. She wouldn’t lose her temper necessarily, but when she was done with a conversation she would just walk away without a word.
The only exception to this was Brittany. For some strange reason Quinn found the other blonde comforting. Maybe it was because she never looked sad. The Cheerio always smiled at her, and it never seemed forced. There was no underlying pity, and Quinn could not understand how important that was now. She needed a sense of normalcy, even though she didn’t feel normal herself.
Three days after she moved back in with her parents, she was sitting with Brittany in the gym. Brittany had just finished a cheer that she was planning on pitching to Sue (despite Quinn’s protestations that it would not end well-Brittany insisted she would work on the ending, then), and they were sitting on the bleachers when Rachel approached them. Quinn felt her heart skip a few beats. She had been avoiding Rachel, and the singer had respected her need for space, but she could see the pain written on Rachel’s face as she walked down the baseline of the court.
Brittany smiled at Rachel, “Hi, Rachel. We were just talking about songs we could do for Glee Club,” the Cheerio’s voice was bubbly, and Quinn couldn’t help but notice how the girl was nice to everyone. She was equal opportunity that way.
Rachel managed a weak smile in Brittany’s direction, but her eyes never left the hazel ones before her. “Did you think of any good ones?”
Quinn’s heart clenched at the lack of enthusiasm in the normally ebullient girl’s voice. They were talking about performing, something that could always draw excitement from Rachel. Rachel had been especially quiet in Glee the last few meetings, and Quinn couldn’t help but feel responsible for this sudden change. As much as the old Quinn would have hated to admit it, she missed the animation, the excitement that the smaller girl seemed to exude. “Brittany actually just brought up the topic,” Quinn interjected. She couldn’t look away from Rachel. With her eyes she tried to tell the brunette that she wasn’t ready for a deep conversation. Not yet.
Brittany, seemingly oblivious, patted the bench next to her. “Maybe you can help. I’m still confused why Mr. Schue wanted us to sing about ducks.” When she didn’t get a response, she just waited, blue eyes flicking back and forth between her two companions. She could see that they were having their own exchange in silence.
Rachel broke the tension, “I actually can’t stay, and I doubt I’d be any help, anyway.” She smiled sadly at Brittany. “Sorry, I’m late for ballet.”
Quinn knew it was a lie. Rachel didn’t have ballet on Fridays. When the singer turned to go, Quinn desperately wanted to tell her to stay. She yearned to tell Rachel that she still wanted her. But she didn’t know how to tell the other girl that she didn’t know how to be happy again. She didn’t know if she would ever be the person she was before. The person Rachel loved. She didn’t know if Rachel could love the person she was now. And she didn’t know if she would ever deserve that love that had been so freely given. So she watched the girl she loved walk away instead.
When the door to the gym closed behind Rachel with a soft whoosh, Brittany took Quinn’s hand in her own. Quinn tore her eyes away from the door, and looked at her friend.
“She really loves you, you know?”
Quinn couldn’t even draw up enough strength to feel fear. They hadn’t told anyone about their relationship, but she honestly didn’t care who knew now. How silly everything seemed in light of recent events. What the hell did her popularity matter now? Her throat tightened when she whispered, “She shouldn’t.”
Brittany wrapped her arms around the other blonde, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. “But she does.” She leaned back. “That must be nice.”
Quinn swallowed hard, but nodded. “Yeah.”
---
After school, it was the same thing every day. Her mother was well into her second drink by the time Quinn walked through the door. She still asked the typical questions about Quinn’s day, but the girl doubted that her mother would listen if she chose to give anything other than the canned response of “fine.” She no longer left the house. Santana and Brittany called her to invite her on their shopping excursions. Kurt invited her to a spa day with Mercedes, and even Tina and Artie offered to hang out on occasion. Finn and Puck didn’t call, but she didn’t really expect them to. Finn had told her that he forgave her for what had happened with Puck, but she didn’t expect anything more from him. Puck couldn’t deal with his own emotions, so she knew he wouldn’t call. He had come to realize that it was easier to ignore it, too. It was too much for him otherwise.
When Rachel called-and she did, a lot-Quinn would usually ignore the calls. She would ignore them, but then in the middle of the night she’d end up calling Rachel. She wouldn’t say a word, but Rachel seemed to know that she just needed to have someone there. Rachel wouldn’t always say much, just whisper about her day, usually. Sometimes she’d talk about when she was a kid, or what she planned for the future. Quinn even found herself smiling occasionally, thinking about a little, three-year-old Rachel getting in trouble for bounding up on the stage at Disneyworld. Rachel explained that it wasn’t to steal the spotlight as one might assume, but it was because Goofy was up there, and she loved him the most. When Rachel spoke of the future, she was careful not to assume anything, sometimes stumbling over herself (which was uncommon for the singer) when she might have implied that she wanted Quinn with her in her perceived future adventures. Quinn felt bad, keeping the other girl up so late, especially because she could see how tired Rachel was in school, but the phone calls were the only thing that seemed to help her sleep. Quinn would fall asleep, phone next to her pillow, and the next day she would continue her act of ignoring the other girl. She hated herself for it. And Rachel never complained.
---
Rachel was exhausted. She was stumbling in her dance classes, and had fallen asleep in school three times over the past week. For a girl who prided herself on never missing a beat, and who always took copious notes… it was alarming, to say the least. She knew part of it was due to her staying up all hours of the night talking to Quinn, but those were the only times she actually felt good. Quinn sought her out. That was hard to come by now. So if it meant staying up into the early morning each day to make Quinn feel even the slightest bit better, she thought it well worth the lack of sleep.
What concerned her, though, was that Quinn had refused to talk to anyone. She knew the Fabrays weren’t going to address any of the issues, and Quinn was bottling everything up. Rachel had done a lot of research, and she knew that would not help matters. She decided to go see Miss Pillsbury. She begged the guidance counselor to give Quinn suggestions for counselors. The redhead told her that she could offer Quinn options, but it was up to Quinn to do it when she was ready. When Miss Pillsbury turned her questions to Rachel, the brunette couldn’t bite back the outburst. She felt bad for snapping at Miss Pillsbury, but she couldn’t help pointing out that she wasn’t the one who needed help. That she wasn’t the one who lost her baby. The diva was furious at the look the guidance counselor gave her after that. It was a mix of concern, understanding and resignation, and it gave the impression that the woman understood how Rachel was feeling. And that was impossible.
Things at home weren’t much better for her. Her temper flared regularly, and she found herself angry with her parents over the silliest things. Anger was usually the emotion saved for Mr. Schuester, who habitually tried to ruin her life. She tried to tamp down her rage, she knew that she was acting out of line, but she felt so out of control. The loving, supportive person she was trying so hard to be for Quinn cracked at home. It was like she had all the patience in the world for one person, and everyone else was out of luck.
Rachel had just drifted off to sleep when she felt her bed dip. She jumped in response, but a soft hand covered her mouth before she could scream. “Quinn?”
Insistent lips suddenly pressed against her own and Rachel moaned at the contact. She felt herself pushed back into her mattress, and Quinn’s body stretched the length of her own. Not really sure what was going on, Rachel kissed back, hands moving up to tangle in golden hair. Quinn’s tongue teased Rachel’s lips, and she opened them, their tongues coming together. Her breath, or lack thereof, was rapidly becoming an issue, so she pulled back a little, pressing Quinn up. Quinn groaned in frustration before her lips attached to Rachel’s neck, sucking at her pulse point.
The brunette’s back arched off the bed, hips straining against the small body on top of her as Quinn’s tongue darted out to sooth the marks she was making on Rachel’s neck. When her hand slipped under Rachel’s tank top, cupping a breast, the singer bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, and she was finding it difficult to get a full breath in before forgetting how to draw in the next. Quinn’s knee slid between her thighs, pressing up against her, and suddenly Rachel was hyperaware of what was going on. They had not gone this far before, they were still getting used to one another before everything had gone to hell. She pushed the blonde back, gently. “Quinn, wait,” Rachel gasped. She twisted their bodies so that they were on their sides, facing one another.
Brushing blonde hair behind Quinn’s ear, Rachel smiled softly at the other girl.
Quinn growled, “What?”
Rachel frowned, “I just needed to slow down. It’s not a race, babe.”
“Forget it.” Quinn rolled out of bed, quickly yanking on her shoes that had been discarded by the window she snuck through. She was half out by the time Rachel’s arms had wrapped around her. “Let me go,” she rasped angrily.
“No.”
“Rachel, seriously let me go now.”
“I will let you go when you explain to me what just happened.”
The tension slowly bled from Quinn’s body, and she allowed Rachel to pull her back to the bed.
Quinn said nothing, so Rachel tried again. “I’m glad you’re here,” her tone was tentatively optimistic, but she was still expecting the rug to be pulled out from under her.
Quinn shrugged her shoulders once, twice. She suddenly turned to face Rachel. The moonlight illuminated her watery eyes, and Rachel felt a lump grow in her throat. “I just-help me forget,” Quinn leaned in, kissing the brunette again. The kisses were desperate, and her hands were roaming, grabbing, pulling at Rachel recklessly. “I need to forget.”
It broke Rachel’s heart. All she wanted to do was help Quinn, but she couldn’t help feeling this was not the way it would work. With quite a bit of trouble, she managed to disentangle herself from Quinn. She stood quickly, pacing between the door and the foot of her bed.
“Don’t you want me? Is it bec-”
Rachel bounded back to Quinn, “No. Stop.” She couldn’t stand to hear the uncertainty in the former cheerleader’s voice. Rachel pressed a single finger to Quinn’s mouth, keeping her from saying more. “I do. I want you.” She stood again once she was certain Quinn wouldn’t interrupt. She sighed, running her hands through her brown hair, pacing again. “I don’t want this, though.” She hurried on, not wanting Quinn to misunderstand. “I love you. I want to make love to you.” Rachel felt her cheeks burn at how ridiculous she felt saying that, but she continued. “I want it to be special, Quinn.” She managed to stop pacing, setting herself next to Quinn again. “This isn’t the way it should be,” she pleaded, slipping a hand into Quinn’s.
A few errant tears streaked slowly down pale cheeks, and Rachel reached a hand up, thumb brushing them away carefully. “I’m sorry,” Quinn whispered brokenly. “I’m doing this all wrong.”
Rachel leaned in, bringing their lips together reverently. “Shh. I’m here. That’s not going to change.” Letting their foreheads rest together, Rachel asked, “Can you stay tonight? Please?”
When Quinn nodded, Rachel swooped around to kneel at Quinn’s feet, removing her shoes, then moving up to undo her jeans. When Quinn was in just her t-shirt and underwear, she leaned back on the bed, letting Rachel spoon her from behind. Rachel kissed the back of her neck. As she started to doze off, Rachel thought she heard three quiet words, but she was so tired, and couldn’t fight off sleep anymore.
I love you.
When she woke, Quinn was gone, and the chill from the hastily (and therefore improperly) closed window made the air thin and hard to breathe. At least that’s what Rachel blamed it on.
---
She had to get out of there.
She awoke warm, comfortable. There were bare arms draped around her protectively. Half asleep, her lips found the soft inside of an elbow, and she kissed it gently. The smile crept onto her face, unbidden and effortless. There was a soft exhalation of breath behind her, and it tickled the hair on her neck. One of the arms wrapped around her dipped with her little shiver, falling to low on her abdomen. And suddenly she was wide awake. The smile that had been occupying her mouth, fled from her face, and she felt again like she was drowning. Her first instinct was to throw the arms off of her and jump out of bed, but she managed to calm herself and withdraw slowly, not waking her sleeping partner.
Quinn crept silently to her discarded jeans and shoes, slipping them on quickly and making her way out the window. She glanced back at Rachel’s sleeping form and paused. She looked so peaceful, and Quinn knew that she would worry when she woke up. Breathing out a heavy sigh, she wiped the tears from her eyes roughly, and closed the window quietly. It was for the best, she decided. She knew it wasn’t in the cards for her to be happy. She had no right to it.
She was sneaking back into her room when a voice broke her out of her own thoughts. “Where’ve you been, young lady?”
Quinn turned quickly at the sound. Once she saw who it was she continued to her closet, kicking her shoes into it.
“No ‘hello?’”
Quinn turned, lifting an eyebrow, “Hi, Jen.” She looked into her closet again, grabbing a few things and then headed to her bathroom. “I need a shower.”
Jen nodded, “Okay, I’ll be here.” She plopped onto Quinn’s bed and grabbed a magazine.
When Quinn got back into her room, hair wet and wrapped on top of her head in a towel, her sister hadn’t moved. Quinn kept getting ready, ignoring her sister. Jen finally threw the magazine in Quinn’s general direction. “Alright, I know I haven’t been around lately, but you haven’t talked to me, either. I had to find out from Mom-who was drunk at the time, not that that’s new-that you were pregnant.”
Quinn spun around, furious (yet kind of surprised at her sister’s outburst, because no one had talked to her that way in weeks), “I was. I’m not anymore, I don’t know if she told you that.” She moved toward her older sister, not even trying to keep her voice down now, “Or was she too drunk to remember that little detail?” Hating herself for the hot tears now streaking down her face, Quinn faced the opposite wall, staring at the shadows the sunlight was making through the curtains.
Jen’s voice was quiet, “She told me that, too.” She walked up behind her little sister, pulling her back to the bed. “I know I’ve been out of it for a while, but I’m here now.” She brushed Quinn’s hair back off her face, tucking it behind her ears. “If you want to cry, cry. If you want to talk, talk.” When Quinn said nothing, Jen gave a weak smile, “If you want me to shut up, tell me to shut up.”
Quinn smiled back, “No. I just-I’m still getting used to everything, Jen.” Taking a shuddering breath, she continued, “Everything kind of went crazy, you know?” Jen nodded. “And then they kicked me out, and I had to tell Finn it wasn’t his baby, and then Rachel was so wonderful.” Quinn cut herself off there, but she didn’t have to. Her phone rang, and she saw it was Rachel. She quickly hit ignore when her sister cut in.
“They kicked you out?” Jen’s voice conveyed that she had not been clued in on that little tidbit. Suddenly she was off the bed, heading toward Quinn’s door. “I’ll kill them,” the older blonde muttered angrily.
“Jen,” Quinn’s plaintive voice broke through her older sister’s anger. “Stop. It’s not worth it.”
Jen looked at her, really looked at her and Quinn felt like it was the first time anyone in her family had done that in longer than she could remember. Her sister moved back toward the bed. “What do you mean? And why didn’t you come to me and Mike?” Jen’s hand reached out, brushing away a few errant tears. Her mouth quirked into a half smile, “We always have space for you. You should know that.”
It was too much for the younger blonde, and she threw herself into her sister’s arms. And everything just started spilling out, “Jen, I don’t know what to do anymore. Everything hurts. So much. I’m terrified because I can’t think of anything else. I don’t want to be this way for the rest of my life. And I hate myself for worrying about myself when my baby girl is gone.” She looked at her older sister, panicked, “She’s gone. I miss her, and I never even met her.” At this point her phone rang again. Quinn was torn between throwing it out across the room (she could actually picture it shattering) and at the same time she wanted to pick it up and ask Rachel to come over. She wanted the girl with her, but she also was feeling pressured, even though no one was doing anything to cause said pressure.
“Should you get that?” Jen’s voice was concerned, “That’s the second time she’s called in like, two minutes.”
Quinn snagged her phone off the bed and answered, “What?” She closed her eyes tight at her tone. She heard Rachel take a breath, and she didn’t know if the girl was surprised that she answered or shocked at the evident venom in the way that she answered.
“Um, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried when you were gone,” Rachel’s voice was quiet, cautious even.
“I’m fine, Rachel. Look, can we talk later?”
“Of course.”
“Good.”
“I’ll be here, Quinn. Whatever you need.”
Quinn hung up, vaguely wondering why the brunette allowed her to treat her the way she was. It wasn’t right, and she thought it couldn’t last forever. Maybe Rachel would finally leave her alone. The thought terrified her, even though she knew that was what she was pushing for. She faced her sister, who was staring at her with an intrigued look. Quinn sighed, “What, Jen?”
“What was all that about? Is that how you treat your friends? Seriously?”
“She’s not my friend.”
Jen shook her head, “She’s something. Non-friends don’t call repeatedly. And you don’t normally tell them you’ll call them back.”
“I don’t want to have this conversation right now.”
“So there’s a conversation to have?”
“Jen. Shut up.”
The older girl raised her hands in supplication, “Okay, that’s fine. I can wait.”
Quinn rolled her eyes, she knew better. Her sister always managed to pry things out of her. “Fine. I’ll tell you.”
“That was easier than usual.”
“She’s not my friend.” Quinn ran her fingers through her still damp hair. “She’s who I was staying with when Mom and Dad kicked me out. Well, after I told Finn the truth.”
Jen nodded, knowing there was more to it.
“It’s just-please don’t freak out.”
“Why would I freak out?”
“I’m sort of in love with her. I mean, we’re dating. Or whatever.” Quinn’s confession came out rapid fire, in one exhalation of breath. “Or I was, I think. Before,” she added as an afterthought. She hadn’t exactly come to terms with the truth of her words, so hearing them come from her mouth was very strange to her.
Jen shifted on the bed, scooting a bit closer. “Again I say, why would I freak out?”
“You know why.”
“What? Because of this?” Jen pulled her cross up from her neck, smiling at her sister. “You can be so stupid sometimes, I don’t get it.”
Quinn looked at her in shock, “You really think that’s the way to go about reassuring me?”
“I think you need someone to treat you normally.” Jen poked her shoulder, “And just because our parents are idiots doesn’t mean that every Catholic is. You know that.”
Quinn leaned back on the bed, against her pillows. “I guess I know that.” At her sister’s look she allowed, “Okay, yes, I know that. But we’ve never talked about it.”
Jen looked at her, clearly confused, “But you know how close I am to Brooke, and that didn’t stop when she brought Sam to visit.”
Jen was referring to Quinn’s older cousin, who was Jen’s age. She hadn’t ever really put two and two together before. “That’s her step-sister,” she said, feeling kind of dumb.
“Ugh, Mom and Dad have done a number on you,” Jen groaned. “Yes, Sam is her step-sister. But they’re also a couple. How did you not know this? Have you not seen them?”
Quinn furrowed her brow, “Well, I noticed they were kind of handsy, but I just figured they were close.”
Jen grinned, “They are.”
Quinn shook her head, “Whatever. So you’re okay with it. What about Mike? All Dad talks about is what a good Christian boy he is.”
“I feel like I’m talking to a wall.”
“Forget it!” Quinn hopped off the bed, heading to her door.
“Okay, okay. No, he’s fine, too. He loves Brooke and Sam. He was just telling me last week that he wished they lived closer, so they could visit more than a couple times a year,” Jen tried placating her sister.
Quinn looked at her hopefully, “Really?”
Jen smiled gently, “Yes, really.” She patted the bed next to her and Quinn retook her spot. “Now can we talk about some of the more important things?”
Quinn froze up. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
Jen sighed, “You were, though. Before.” Quinn remained silent. “Okay, you don’t have to talk to me about it. Just please,” she cupped Quinn’s stoic face, “please find someone you can talk to. It’s important.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“Yes you do. You just don’t like being forced into it. You’re stubborn.” She ran her fingers through Quinn’s hair. “I’m worried about you, kiddo. I love you.”
Quinn scowled at the nickname, even though her sister had always used it. “Don’t you think that nickname can stop now? I’m clearly not a kid anymore.”
“Do you want me to say something cheesy? Like, ‘oh, but you’ll always be a kid to me!’” Jen smirked. “Because I know you’re not a kid, you dork. It’s a nickname. Get over it.”
“I didn’t ever get a chance to know her, Jen.”
“I know.”
“It hurts so much more than I ever thought anything could.”
Jen said nothing.
“I feel so alone.”
Quinn spent the rest of the morning talking to her sister, finally able to express some of what was going through her head. She didn’t feel better after, not necessarily, but she knew it was a step. Jen gave her a list of a couple different counselors, as well as a group for parents who had lost a child. When Miss Pillsbury had done it she threw the paper out. This time she slid it into her top drawer in her desk. It was a step.
That night when she crawled into bed and called Rachel she was able to talk a little bit, too. She could tell Rachel was pleased, even though she didn’t verbally acknowledge it.
“I told my sister about us.”
“You … did?”
Quinn smiled at the surprise evident in the other girl’s voice. “Yeah.”
“What did you tell her?”
Quinn knew that this was an important question, it was Rachel trying to gauge where they stood. “I told her that I stayed with you,” she said, mentally kicking herself for being afraid to tell the full truth.
“Oh.”
She steeled herself, “And that we were dating. Kind of.”
“Oh.” This response had a bit more life to it, as if Rachel had been given a little extra hope.
“Rachel?”
“Hm?”
“I miss you,” Quinn’s voice was small and vulnerable. And she didn’t actually mean to say it. It slipped out when she wasn’t thinking.
“I’m right here,” Rachel replied evenly.
“Yeah. I’m sorry I’m so fucked up.” Now that, that was how she felt. Quinn heard a rustling on the other end of the line. She assumed Rachel was sitting up in bed.
“You’re not,” Rachel insisted.
“I am.”
“Quinn-”
Quinn cut her off, “No, Rachel. I am. I need you to get that. And the truth is that I don’t know how long I will be. I don’t know if I will ever be the person you loved. Before,” she swallowed hard, “before everything happened.” She bit her lip, continuing, “I don’t know that I can be with you like I was before. It feels wrong.” Rachel’s breath caught, and Quinn rushed on, “Not because you’re wrong. Or what we had was wrong. It wasn’t. I know that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I mean that it doesn’t feel right because…” she trailed off, not knowing how to put her emotions into words. “Because she is gone. And it doesn’t feel right to have that happiness again. Not without her.” Quinn felt her throat tighten, “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t do anything to deserve this. I’m sorry I’ve screwed everything up so royally.”
Rachel broke in, “You haven’t, though. Please, just don’t rush into anything here. I’m not pushing for a decision.”
“I know. I have to go now.”
“Quinn,” Rachel breathed.
The blonde girl clenched her eyes shut tight. “Yes?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. And I love you.” Quinn could hear the resignation in the brunette’s tone as she finished her thought. “I just want you to remember that.”
“Good night, Rachel.”
Quinn hung up before the other girl could say anything else. She didn’t sleep that night.
---
It was a Wednesday, a week and a half after Quinn had spent the night at Rachel’s, and the blonde was sprawled out on her bed. Her sister had only called a handful of times since she left, and Quinn was trying to rationalize that. Jen certainly wasn’t perfect, and she had her own life to live. She knew her sister could only do so much, living two hours away. Quinn sighed heavily, pushing herself up and walking over to her desk, focused on getting some of her homework out of the way before the silent dinner that awaited her with her parents. When she sat down, she pulled open the top drawer. The paper her sister had provided her was still sitting at the top. Quinn looked at it for possibly the hundredth time, and picked up her phone.
---
“Rachel,” the ginger haired counselor’s voice was soft, “you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Emma leaned forward, elbows on her desk. “You’re way too young to be dealing with all of this emotion.”
Rachel sat in the chair opposite, face in her hands, fingers gently rubbing her red eyes. “I’m fine,” she mumbled.
Emma sighed, “You’re clearly not.”
She let her hands drop to her lap, and brown eyes peered up at the redhead. Finally Rachel spoke, “I don’t have time to deal with this. You’re right. I’m quite possibly too young. I should be focusing on my future, on preparing for nationals. I should be working on my dance lessons, my vocal coaching, my studies, my future,” she knew she was being repetitive, but she didn’t care. “I know all this, Miss Pillsbury. I understand the ramifications of falling behind at this point in my high school career. It’s hard to play catch up.” A bitter smile took form on her lips, “But I don’t care. I can’t. I try, but I can’t. And maybe that’s wrong. Maybe that’s why you keep calling me in here.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “I know you think that I’m too young to be dealing with these emotions, but I am. I’m dealing. I love Quinn. And I have to be strong for her. Even when she won’t let me in.”
Emma sat back in her seat, waiting to make sure Rachel was done with her monologue before speaking. “Okay,” she acquiesced, “but how strong do you think you’ll be if you can’t take care of yourself? I believe you when you say you love her. And love, love is tricky. Sometimes you think it’ll never work out, but then the person you love finds out his wife has been lying to him about a non-existent baby. And then, you know, it still isn’t perfect, but it could be,” the guidance counselor trailed off, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to need help. It’s okay to seek it out, and I really hope you’ll take me up on that. I’m here to listen, I’m here to give guidance. It’s actually in my title.”
Rachel, despite her disbelief at Miss Pillsbury bringing up her personal life-albeit unintentionally-nodded in defeat. “Maybe.” She didn’t say that she was hitting the wall, beginning to lose hope. No, she’d keep that to herself.
---
Quinn was surprised that her parents agreed to pay for her counseling sessions, but she figured Jen had talked to them on her behalf. The group for parents who had lost a child met at the hospital weekly, and that was free, but the one-on-one sessions she scheduled were not. She was terrified going to the support group for the first time. She didn’t know what to expect. She was afraid that the people would think her problems were less important, that her pain didn’t matter as much because she had never known her daughter. It turned out that her worries were completely unfounded, of course. The group, which included about a dozen people each week, was supportive, understanding, and actively listened to her when she finally felt comfortable enough to open up. They treated her as they treated everyone else in those hour-long sessions. It was horribly painful to listen to the stories the other parents told, but she felt a kind of connection to them. In listening to their histories, in talking of her own, she felt like she was able to find a thread, a lifeline, and after three weeks she was starting to feel the weight on her chest lifting.
The one-on-one sessions gradually turned their focus to Rachel, and she was able to express her fears of not being enough for her. She finally put into words her apprehension that Rachel might think less of her because she was unable to protect her baby. The counselor explained that it was very common to have those fears. She said that many couples were unable to get past the loss of a child, needing instead to find someone they couldn’t associate with that time in their life. It was common, but it wasn’t the only answer in this type of situation, the counselor assured Quinn. She suggested that maybe Quinn could invite Rachel to one of their sessions, or to her group.
Continued HERE
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: R
Length: 11,327 total
Spoilers: Through 1x11 Hairography
Summary: Rachel tries to be there for Quinn.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters or the show.
A/N: This is a follow up to Why? It’s rather angsty through most of it. I promise a happy ending, though. Title is from Sarah McLachlan’s “Fear.” Unbeta’d. Apologies for any mistakes.
When Rachel arrived at school the next day, she was angry. She had spent the better part of an hour in a whisper (she would have shouted, but Quinn was asleep) match with her fathers, and they did not back down when she said she wasn’t going to school. They said it was not an option, and that they would take Quinn to the doctor for her follow up. It wasn’t until Quinn made her way quietly down the stairs and told Rachel to go to school that the stubborn brunette finally gave in. She didn’t know what to do when she was leaving, wanting to hug Quinn, but not wanting to upset her. She was scared because Quinn hadn’t looked at her since the previous night, and had spent the night crying until she physically couldn’t cry anymore, passing out on Rachel’s chest.
Rachel was tired, having spent the entire night comforting Quinn, and she felt emotionally drained. She walked the hallways in a daze, muscle memory the only thing keeping her going. When Rachel got to her locker, Finn and Puck were standing there, and they looked approximately the way she felt. Puck didn’t have anything rude to say, and Finn looked like he was about to cry.
When she reached them, she reached a hand up to cup Puck’s face. “Noah,” she whispered, but when her eyes welled up, he backed away and took off in the opposite direction. Rachel collapsed into Finn’s waiting arms, and he held her tighter than was comfortable, but she hadn’t let herself break down yet, and she needed it. She felt him shudder, and knew he was biting back his own emotion.
Later, when she asked Finn to borrow his car, she met Quinn and her fathers at the doctor. She gave them a look that let them know she knew she was in trouble, but this was not the time. They nodded and left the office, each giving Quinn a kiss on the top of her head. Rachel entwined her fingers with Quinn’s, but the blonde girl wouldn’t look at her.
She swallowed down her hurt, and pledged to herself to be there for Quinn, even if she was pushed away.
---
Two days later, Quinn was back in school. The glee kids were all trying to be supportive, and she tried to appreciate it, she really did. She could recognize that they didn’t mean any harm, at the least. Kurt complimented her dress (which she really didn’t want to hear), and fixed her hair when they were in Trig, but when he placed his hand on her shoulder and looked at her with concern, she felt like the weight of the world was pressing on her.
Quinn felt like she was drowning. If one more person asked her if she was okay she thought she might scream. Earlier she had actually had Finn crying on her shoulder. It was a feat, considering how much taller he was, and it was only when Rachel pulled him off of her that she was able to sneak away. She came out of the bathroom and saw Brittany walking down the hall in her direction. It took all her strength to not turn right around and hide again. Brittany walked over to her and smiled. Quinn blinked, but nodded when the other blonde girl asked her if she could watch her cheer routine and give her some pointers. They agreed to meet during lunch in the gym. When Quinn walked toward History class, she didn’t see Santana’s look of horror.
The dark-haired Cheerio hissed, “What are you doing, Brittany?”
Brittany looked at her in alarm. “I thought she might be able to help.”
“You do realize that she just had a miscarriage, right?” Santana then rolled her eyes, “You do know what that is?”
Brittany looked down and frowned, “Yes, Santana. I’m not stupid.” She raised her eyes and stared deep into the brown eyes in front of her, “I know everyone thinks I am, but I really thought that something that wasn’t about the baby might help Quinn. I’m sad, and cheering makes me feel better.” With that, she walked down the hall to English, leaving Santana staring after her.
Surprisingly, that was the only thing that was actually helpful to Quinn. She was indescribably grateful to the Cheerio for the distraction, however short-lived it was. Puck came into the gym as Quinn was leaving for her next class. Quinn bumped into his chest as he blocked her exit, and he grabbed her shoulders. She squirmed, and pushed at his chest, but he held her firmly to him. He cried softly into her hair when she finally stopped fighting him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly, and she couldn’t stop crying, either. She wished it would just stop. Her head hurt so badly from the constant pressure.
Rachel was in the locker room looking for Quinn when she overheard two familiar voices.
“I’m sorry.” There were a few beats of silence before the first voice continued, “I don’t think you’re dumb, Britt.” Rachel heard some ruffling and a locker closed. “It was a good idea. I think it helped.”
“I think so, too,” the blonde Cheerio finally responded. “And I know. Everyone just thinks I’m stupid because I’m blonde.”
Santana giggled, “Oh, is that what it is?”
“Yes.”
Once she heard telltale sounds of making out, Rachel snuck out of the locker room, realizing that Quinn probably wasn’t in there. She couldn't help feeling even more alone.
---
It had been two weeks, and Rachel was no closer to getting any kind of response from Quinn. The blonde had stopped staying in Rachel’s room, choosing instead to use the guest bedroom every night. It had been the room she was originally given when she moved in with the Berrys, but Rachel’s dads had been very understanding of them staying together. They trusted Rachel, and had always had a very open household.
Rachel peeked in the spare room nightly, checking on Quinn, but she always faced away from the door, so she never knew if she was sleeping or not. She didn’t want to disturb her if she was. Rachel ached for her. She just wanted to touch her, take the sadness from her eyes.
They still went to school together, but it was quiet. It was an empty kind of silence, uncomfortable, and Rachel always wanted to fill it. It was her nature to talk, and talk a lot, but she knew that it wasn’t helpful, so she remained silent.
When they arrived to school that morning, Rachel took Quinn’s hand in her own, just wanting to give her a little bit of … something. Support. Love. It didn’t really matter. She just wanted to convey that she was there. Something she didn’t know if Quinn really understood anymore.
Quinn faced her, but her face was stony. “What, Rachel?” She let out a sigh and looked away again.
Rachel swallowed, “I just-”
“I can’t take care of you, too. Not right now.”
With that, Quinn was out the door.
Rachel was still crying in her car ten minutes later when Miss Pillsbury tapped on the window. “Let’s talk, Rachel.”
Emma quickly peeked behind her desk. Nope. She was right. There were no brochures titled So you’re a lesbian and your girlfriend just lost her baby. She sighed. She was going to have to do this the hard way. The redhead peered across her desk at the singer who had her gaze firmly focused on a spot on the opposite wall.
“Rachel,” the counselor finally said, breaking the silence.
Rachel twitched in her seat, just once, and then broke down into tears. Her watery brown eyes met those of Miss Pillsbury, and she choked between quiet sobs. “I don’t know what to do. I’m trying to be supportive, but I don’t know what to do. She’s pushing me away. She’s completely shut down, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
Well, that wasn’t so difficult to draw out. Emma slipped on plastic gloves as inconspicuously as possible, and passed a box of tissues to the crying girl. She made a mental note to disinfect her office. “I don’t think you can fix it, Rachel. You just have to continue doing what you’re doing. Don’t push her.” Rachel hiccupped and Emma continued, “I know that’s hard, but she’ll come to you when she’s ready.”
“What if she’s never ready?”
Emma wondered the same thing.
---
The next day when they pulled onto the school’s campus, they saw Quinn’s mother. They got out of the car and walked toward her. Rachel looked at Quinn, not really expecting a response, but making sure she was okay if she left her with her mother. “Go to class, Rachel,” Quinn said, her voice barely above a whisper, though she still didn’t look her in the eye.
Rachel nodded. “Ms. Fabray,” she said coolly as she walked by. The blonde woman ignored her.
As the brunette entered the school, she felt a chill sweep down her back. Nothing good could come from that visit.
When Rachel got home after her dance class her dad looked at her sadly and glanced at the stairs. Rachel raced up, two steps at a time. She got to her room and slowly opened her door. Quinn was sitting on the edge of her bed, suitcase at her feet.
Rachel stood there, her left hand still holding the door handle. Quinn stared at her hands, folded in her lap, and when she spoke, Rachel could hear no inflection whatsoever.
“My mother said that she and daddy wanted me to come home.”
“Okay,” Rachel drew the word out, but said nothing more.
Quinn, still focused on her hands in her lap, continued, “I think it’s probably for the best. I don’t want to be a burden anymore to you or your dads. They’ve been very kind, but I shouldn’t keep putting them out.”
The brunette walked slowly to Quinn, dropping to her knees and taking the former cheerleader’s hands in her own. Rubbing her thumbs over Quinn’s knuckles she whispered, “Quinn, you’re not putting anyone out. They love having you here.” Her voice caught, “I love having you here.” She reached up, cupping Quinn’s cheek in her right hand and tilting her head to face her. “Look at me, please.” She knew she might be coming across as desperate, but she was scared. When Quinn looked at her finally, her hazel eyes looked cold. “I love you.” It was true. They hadn’t said those words to one another before, but it was true, and the veracity of her statement was clearly evident in her own deep brown orbs. Quinn’s eyes softened at the words, but only for a moment. She bit her lip and looked away. “I’m not going to tell you not to go back to your parents, Quinn. I just-I need you to know that you don’t have to feel obligated to. We want you here.”
Quinn knew that Rachel wasn’t lying, but she stood anyway, rubbing her now empty hands on the skirt of her dress. “I deserve to be there with them,” she muttered bitterly.
Rachel stood, steadying herself by grabbing Quinn’s hips gently. She brought her face to Quinn’s hesitantly. The kiss was brief, but Rachel tried to convey everything she had just said in it. When Quinn backed away, picking up her suitcase, Rachel just smiled at her. She would have time to cry later.
Quinn turned and walked to the bedroom door. And a whispered goodbye was all Rachel had left.
---
Quinn’s stay at home was just as before. It was exactly as if nothing had happened to interrupt her parents’ perfect life. They acted as if she had never been pregnant, and there was no family discussion over what had occurred. Quinn found that easier, and she was sure the same could be said for her parents.
They gave her the keys to her car, and the blonde easily slipped into the old routine. She woke up in the morning-not that she slept much at night-got ready, drove to school. School was more difficult. She realized she didn’t have the patience for anyone. She wouldn’t lose her temper necessarily, but when she was done with a conversation she would just walk away without a word.
The only exception to this was Brittany. For some strange reason Quinn found the other blonde comforting. Maybe it was because she never looked sad. The Cheerio always smiled at her, and it never seemed forced. There was no underlying pity, and Quinn could not understand how important that was now. She needed a sense of normalcy, even though she didn’t feel normal herself.
Three days after she moved back in with her parents, she was sitting with Brittany in the gym. Brittany had just finished a cheer that she was planning on pitching to Sue (despite Quinn’s protestations that it would not end well-Brittany insisted she would work on the ending, then), and they were sitting on the bleachers when Rachel approached them. Quinn felt her heart skip a few beats. She had been avoiding Rachel, and the singer had respected her need for space, but she could see the pain written on Rachel’s face as she walked down the baseline of the court.
Brittany smiled at Rachel, “Hi, Rachel. We were just talking about songs we could do for Glee Club,” the Cheerio’s voice was bubbly, and Quinn couldn’t help but notice how the girl was nice to everyone. She was equal opportunity that way.
Rachel managed a weak smile in Brittany’s direction, but her eyes never left the hazel ones before her. “Did you think of any good ones?”
Quinn’s heart clenched at the lack of enthusiasm in the normally ebullient girl’s voice. They were talking about performing, something that could always draw excitement from Rachel. Rachel had been especially quiet in Glee the last few meetings, and Quinn couldn’t help but feel responsible for this sudden change. As much as the old Quinn would have hated to admit it, she missed the animation, the excitement that the smaller girl seemed to exude. “Brittany actually just brought up the topic,” Quinn interjected. She couldn’t look away from Rachel. With her eyes she tried to tell the brunette that she wasn’t ready for a deep conversation. Not yet.
Brittany, seemingly oblivious, patted the bench next to her. “Maybe you can help. I’m still confused why Mr. Schue wanted us to sing about ducks.” When she didn’t get a response, she just waited, blue eyes flicking back and forth between her two companions. She could see that they were having their own exchange in silence.
Rachel broke the tension, “I actually can’t stay, and I doubt I’d be any help, anyway.” She smiled sadly at Brittany. “Sorry, I’m late for ballet.”
Quinn knew it was a lie. Rachel didn’t have ballet on Fridays. When the singer turned to go, Quinn desperately wanted to tell her to stay. She yearned to tell Rachel that she still wanted her. But she didn’t know how to tell the other girl that she didn’t know how to be happy again. She didn’t know if she would ever be the person she was before. The person Rachel loved. She didn’t know if Rachel could love the person she was now. And she didn’t know if she would ever deserve that love that had been so freely given. So she watched the girl she loved walk away instead.
When the door to the gym closed behind Rachel with a soft whoosh, Brittany took Quinn’s hand in her own. Quinn tore her eyes away from the door, and looked at her friend.
“She really loves you, you know?”
Quinn couldn’t even draw up enough strength to feel fear. They hadn’t told anyone about their relationship, but she honestly didn’t care who knew now. How silly everything seemed in light of recent events. What the hell did her popularity matter now? Her throat tightened when she whispered, “She shouldn’t.”
Brittany wrapped her arms around the other blonde, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. “But she does.” She leaned back. “That must be nice.”
Quinn swallowed hard, but nodded. “Yeah.”
---
After school, it was the same thing every day. Her mother was well into her second drink by the time Quinn walked through the door. She still asked the typical questions about Quinn’s day, but the girl doubted that her mother would listen if she chose to give anything other than the canned response of “fine.” She no longer left the house. Santana and Brittany called her to invite her on their shopping excursions. Kurt invited her to a spa day with Mercedes, and even Tina and Artie offered to hang out on occasion. Finn and Puck didn’t call, but she didn’t really expect them to. Finn had told her that he forgave her for what had happened with Puck, but she didn’t expect anything more from him. Puck couldn’t deal with his own emotions, so she knew he wouldn’t call. He had come to realize that it was easier to ignore it, too. It was too much for him otherwise.
When Rachel called-and she did, a lot-Quinn would usually ignore the calls. She would ignore them, but then in the middle of the night she’d end up calling Rachel. She wouldn’t say a word, but Rachel seemed to know that she just needed to have someone there. Rachel wouldn’t always say much, just whisper about her day, usually. Sometimes she’d talk about when she was a kid, or what she planned for the future. Quinn even found herself smiling occasionally, thinking about a little, three-year-old Rachel getting in trouble for bounding up on the stage at Disneyworld. Rachel explained that it wasn’t to steal the spotlight as one might assume, but it was because Goofy was up there, and she loved him the most. When Rachel spoke of the future, she was careful not to assume anything, sometimes stumbling over herself (which was uncommon for the singer) when she might have implied that she wanted Quinn with her in her perceived future adventures. Quinn felt bad, keeping the other girl up so late, especially because she could see how tired Rachel was in school, but the phone calls were the only thing that seemed to help her sleep. Quinn would fall asleep, phone next to her pillow, and the next day she would continue her act of ignoring the other girl. She hated herself for it. And Rachel never complained.
---
Rachel was exhausted. She was stumbling in her dance classes, and had fallen asleep in school three times over the past week. For a girl who prided herself on never missing a beat, and who always took copious notes… it was alarming, to say the least. She knew part of it was due to her staying up all hours of the night talking to Quinn, but those were the only times she actually felt good. Quinn sought her out. That was hard to come by now. So if it meant staying up into the early morning each day to make Quinn feel even the slightest bit better, she thought it well worth the lack of sleep.
What concerned her, though, was that Quinn had refused to talk to anyone. She knew the Fabrays weren’t going to address any of the issues, and Quinn was bottling everything up. Rachel had done a lot of research, and she knew that would not help matters. She decided to go see Miss Pillsbury. She begged the guidance counselor to give Quinn suggestions for counselors. The redhead told her that she could offer Quinn options, but it was up to Quinn to do it when she was ready. When Miss Pillsbury turned her questions to Rachel, the brunette couldn’t bite back the outburst. She felt bad for snapping at Miss Pillsbury, but she couldn’t help pointing out that she wasn’t the one who needed help. That she wasn’t the one who lost her baby. The diva was furious at the look the guidance counselor gave her after that. It was a mix of concern, understanding and resignation, and it gave the impression that the woman understood how Rachel was feeling. And that was impossible.
Things at home weren’t much better for her. Her temper flared regularly, and she found herself angry with her parents over the silliest things. Anger was usually the emotion saved for Mr. Schuester, who habitually tried to ruin her life. She tried to tamp down her rage, she knew that she was acting out of line, but she felt so out of control. The loving, supportive person she was trying so hard to be for Quinn cracked at home. It was like she had all the patience in the world for one person, and everyone else was out of luck.
Rachel had just drifted off to sleep when she felt her bed dip. She jumped in response, but a soft hand covered her mouth before she could scream. “Quinn?”
Insistent lips suddenly pressed against her own and Rachel moaned at the contact. She felt herself pushed back into her mattress, and Quinn’s body stretched the length of her own. Not really sure what was going on, Rachel kissed back, hands moving up to tangle in golden hair. Quinn’s tongue teased Rachel’s lips, and she opened them, their tongues coming together. Her breath, or lack thereof, was rapidly becoming an issue, so she pulled back a little, pressing Quinn up. Quinn groaned in frustration before her lips attached to Rachel’s neck, sucking at her pulse point.
The brunette’s back arched off the bed, hips straining against the small body on top of her as Quinn’s tongue darted out to sooth the marks she was making on Rachel’s neck. When her hand slipped under Rachel’s tank top, cupping a breast, the singer bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, and she was finding it difficult to get a full breath in before forgetting how to draw in the next. Quinn’s knee slid between her thighs, pressing up against her, and suddenly Rachel was hyperaware of what was going on. They had not gone this far before, they were still getting used to one another before everything had gone to hell. She pushed the blonde back, gently. “Quinn, wait,” Rachel gasped. She twisted their bodies so that they were on their sides, facing one another.
Brushing blonde hair behind Quinn’s ear, Rachel smiled softly at the other girl.
Quinn growled, “What?”
Rachel frowned, “I just needed to slow down. It’s not a race, babe.”
“Forget it.” Quinn rolled out of bed, quickly yanking on her shoes that had been discarded by the window she snuck through. She was half out by the time Rachel’s arms had wrapped around her. “Let me go,” she rasped angrily.
“No.”
“Rachel, seriously let me go now.”
“I will let you go when you explain to me what just happened.”
The tension slowly bled from Quinn’s body, and she allowed Rachel to pull her back to the bed.
Quinn said nothing, so Rachel tried again. “I’m glad you’re here,” her tone was tentatively optimistic, but she was still expecting the rug to be pulled out from under her.
Quinn shrugged her shoulders once, twice. She suddenly turned to face Rachel. The moonlight illuminated her watery eyes, and Rachel felt a lump grow in her throat. “I just-help me forget,” Quinn leaned in, kissing the brunette again. The kisses were desperate, and her hands were roaming, grabbing, pulling at Rachel recklessly. “I need to forget.”
It broke Rachel’s heart. All she wanted to do was help Quinn, but she couldn’t help feeling this was not the way it would work. With quite a bit of trouble, she managed to disentangle herself from Quinn. She stood quickly, pacing between the door and the foot of her bed.
“Don’t you want me? Is it bec-”
Rachel bounded back to Quinn, “No. Stop.” She couldn’t stand to hear the uncertainty in the former cheerleader’s voice. Rachel pressed a single finger to Quinn’s mouth, keeping her from saying more. “I do. I want you.” She stood again once she was certain Quinn wouldn’t interrupt. She sighed, running her hands through her brown hair, pacing again. “I don’t want this, though.” She hurried on, not wanting Quinn to misunderstand. “I love you. I want to make love to you.” Rachel felt her cheeks burn at how ridiculous she felt saying that, but she continued. “I want it to be special, Quinn.” She managed to stop pacing, setting herself next to Quinn again. “This isn’t the way it should be,” she pleaded, slipping a hand into Quinn’s.
A few errant tears streaked slowly down pale cheeks, and Rachel reached a hand up, thumb brushing them away carefully. “I’m sorry,” Quinn whispered brokenly. “I’m doing this all wrong.”
Rachel leaned in, bringing their lips together reverently. “Shh. I’m here. That’s not going to change.” Letting their foreheads rest together, Rachel asked, “Can you stay tonight? Please?”
When Quinn nodded, Rachel swooped around to kneel at Quinn’s feet, removing her shoes, then moving up to undo her jeans. When Quinn was in just her t-shirt and underwear, she leaned back on the bed, letting Rachel spoon her from behind. Rachel kissed the back of her neck. As she started to doze off, Rachel thought she heard three quiet words, but she was so tired, and couldn’t fight off sleep anymore.
I love you.
When she woke, Quinn was gone, and the chill from the hastily (and therefore improperly) closed window made the air thin and hard to breathe. At least that’s what Rachel blamed it on.
---
She had to get out of there.
She awoke warm, comfortable. There were bare arms draped around her protectively. Half asleep, her lips found the soft inside of an elbow, and she kissed it gently. The smile crept onto her face, unbidden and effortless. There was a soft exhalation of breath behind her, and it tickled the hair on her neck. One of the arms wrapped around her dipped with her little shiver, falling to low on her abdomen. And suddenly she was wide awake. The smile that had been occupying her mouth, fled from her face, and she felt again like she was drowning. Her first instinct was to throw the arms off of her and jump out of bed, but she managed to calm herself and withdraw slowly, not waking her sleeping partner.
Quinn crept silently to her discarded jeans and shoes, slipping them on quickly and making her way out the window. She glanced back at Rachel’s sleeping form and paused. She looked so peaceful, and Quinn knew that she would worry when she woke up. Breathing out a heavy sigh, she wiped the tears from her eyes roughly, and closed the window quietly. It was for the best, she decided. She knew it wasn’t in the cards for her to be happy. She had no right to it.
She was sneaking back into her room when a voice broke her out of her own thoughts. “Where’ve you been, young lady?”
Quinn turned quickly at the sound. Once she saw who it was she continued to her closet, kicking her shoes into it.
“No ‘hello?’”
Quinn turned, lifting an eyebrow, “Hi, Jen.” She looked into her closet again, grabbing a few things and then headed to her bathroom. “I need a shower.”
Jen nodded, “Okay, I’ll be here.” She plopped onto Quinn’s bed and grabbed a magazine.
When Quinn got back into her room, hair wet and wrapped on top of her head in a towel, her sister hadn’t moved. Quinn kept getting ready, ignoring her sister. Jen finally threw the magazine in Quinn’s general direction. “Alright, I know I haven’t been around lately, but you haven’t talked to me, either. I had to find out from Mom-who was drunk at the time, not that that’s new-that you were pregnant.”
Quinn spun around, furious (yet kind of surprised at her sister’s outburst, because no one had talked to her that way in weeks), “I was. I’m not anymore, I don’t know if she told you that.” She moved toward her older sister, not even trying to keep her voice down now, “Or was she too drunk to remember that little detail?” Hating herself for the hot tears now streaking down her face, Quinn faced the opposite wall, staring at the shadows the sunlight was making through the curtains.
Jen’s voice was quiet, “She told me that, too.” She walked up behind her little sister, pulling her back to the bed. “I know I’ve been out of it for a while, but I’m here now.” She brushed Quinn’s hair back off her face, tucking it behind her ears. “If you want to cry, cry. If you want to talk, talk.” When Quinn said nothing, Jen gave a weak smile, “If you want me to shut up, tell me to shut up.”
Quinn smiled back, “No. I just-I’m still getting used to everything, Jen.” Taking a shuddering breath, she continued, “Everything kind of went crazy, you know?” Jen nodded. “And then they kicked me out, and I had to tell Finn it wasn’t his baby, and then Rachel was so wonderful.” Quinn cut herself off there, but she didn’t have to. Her phone rang, and she saw it was Rachel. She quickly hit ignore when her sister cut in.
“They kicked you out?” Jen’s voice conveyed that she had not been clued in on that little tidbit. Suddenly she was off the bed, heading toward Quinn’s door. “I’ll kill them,” the older blonde muttered angrily.
“Jen,” Quinn’s plaintive voice broke through her older sister’s anger. “Stop. It’s not worth it.”
Jen looked at her, really looked at her and Quinn felt like it was the first time anyone in her family had done that in longer than she could remember. Her sister moved back toward the bed. “What do you mean? And why didn’t you come to me and Mike?” Jen’s hand reached out, brushing away a few errant tears. Her mouth quirked into a half smile, “We always have space for you. You should know that.”
It was too much for the younger blonde, and she threw herself into her sister’s arms. And everything just started spilling out, “Jen, I don’t know what to do anymore. Everything hurts. So much. I’m terrified because I can’t think of anything else. I don’t want to be this way for the rest of my life. And I hate myself for worrying about myself when my baby girl is gone.” She looked at her older sister, panicked, “She’s gone. I miss her, and I never even met her.” At this point her phone rang again. Quinn was torn between throwing it out across the room (she could actually picture it shattering) and at the same time she wanted to pick it up and ask Rachel to come over. She wanted the girl with her, but she also was feeling pressured, even though no one was doing anything to cause said pressure.
“Should you get that?” Jen’s voice was concerned, “That’s the second time she’s called in like, two minutes.”
Quinn snagged her phone off the bed and answered, “What?” She closed her eyes tight at her tone. She heard Rachel take a breath, and she didn’t know if the girl was surprised that she answered or shocked at the evident venom in the way that she answered.
“Um, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried when you were gone,” Rachel’s voice was quiet, cautious even.
“I’m fine, Rachel. Look, can we talk later?”
“Of course.”
“Good.”
“I’ll be here, Quinn. Whatever you need.”
Quinn hung up, vaguely wondering why the brunette allowed her to treat her the way she was. It wasn’t right, and she thought it couldn’t last forever. Maybe Rachel would finally leave her alone. The thought terrified her, even though she knew that was what she was pushing for. She faced her sister, who was staring at her with an intrigued look. Quinn sighed, “What, Jen?”
“What was all that about? Is that how you treat your friends? Seriously?”
“She’s not my friend.”
Jen shook her head, “She’s something. Non-friends don’t call repeatedly. And you don’t normally tell them you’ll call them back.”
“I don’t want to have this conversation right now.”
“So there’s a conversation to have?”
“Jen. Shut up.”
The older girl raised her hands in supplication, “Okay, that’s fine. I can wait.”
Quinn rolled her eyes, she knew better. Her sister always managed to pry things out of her. “Fine. I’ll tell you.”
“That was easier than usual.”
“She’s not my friend.” Quinn ran her fingers through her still damp hair. “She’s who I was staying with when Mom and Dad kicked me out. Well, after I told Finn the truth.”
Jen nodded, knowing there was more to it.
“It’s just-please don’t freak out.”
“Why would I freak out?”
“I’m sort of in love with her. I mean, we’re dating. Or whatever.” Quinn’s confession came out rapid fire, in one exhalation of breath. “Or I was, I think. Before,” she added as an afterthought. She hadn’t exactly come to terms with the truth of her words, so hearing them come from her mouth was very strange to her.
Jen shifted on the bed, scooting a bit closer. “Again I say, why would I freak out?”
“You know why.”
“What? Because of this?” Jen pulled her cross up from her neck, smiling at her sister. “You can be so stupid sometimes, I don’t get it.”
Quinn looked at her in shock, “You really think that’s the way to go about reassuring me?”
“I think you need someone to treat you normally.” Jen poked her shoulder, “And just because our parents are idiots doesn’t mean that every Catholic is. You know that.”
Quinn leaned back on the bed, against her pillows. “I guess I know that.” At her sister’s look she allowed, “Okay, yes, I know that. But we’ve never talked about it.”
Jen looked at her, clearly confused, “But you know how close I am to Brooke, and that didn’t stop when she brought Sam to visit.”
Jen was referring to Quinn’s older cousin, who was Jen’s age. She hadn’t ever really put two and two together before. “That’s her step-sister,” she said, feeling kind of dumb.
“Ugh, Mom and Dad have done a number on you,” Jen groaned. “Yes, Sam is her step-sister. But they’re also a couple. How did you not know this? Have you not seen them?”
Quinn furrowed her brow, “Well, I noticed they were kind of handsy, but I just figured they were close.”
Jen grinned, “They are.”
Quinn shook her head, “Whatever. So you’re okay with it. What about Mike? All Dad talks about is what a good Christian boy he is.”
“I feel like I’m talking to a wall.”
“Forget it!” Quinn hopped off the bed, heading to her door.
“Okay, okay. No, he’s fine, too. He loves Brooke and Sam. He was just telling me last week that he wished they lived closer, so they could visit more than a couple times a year,” Jen tried placating her sister.
Quinn looked at her hopefully, “Really?”
Jen smiled gently, “Yes, really.” She patted the bed next to her and Quinn retook her spot. “Now can we talk about some of the more important things?”
Quinn froze up. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
Jen sighed, “You were, though. Before.” Quinn remained silent. “Okay, you don’t have to talk to me about it. Just please,” she cupped Quinn’s stoic face, “please find someone you can talk to. It’s important.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“Yes you do. You just don’t like being forced into it. You’re stubborn.” She ran her fingers through Quinn’s hair. “I’m worried about you, kiddo. I love you.”
Quinn scowled at the nickname, even though her sister had always used it. “Don’t you think that nickname can stop now? I’m clearly not a kid anymore.”
“Do you want me to say something cheesy? Like, ‘oh, but you’ll always be a kid to me!’” Jen smirked. “Because I know you’re not a kid, you dork. It’s a nickname. Get over it.”
“I didn’t ever get a chance to know her, Jen.”
“I know.”
“It hurts so much more than I ever thought anything could.”
Jen said nothing.
“I feel so alone.”
Quinn spent the rest of the morning talking to her sister, finally able to express some of what was going through her head. She didn’t feel better after, not necessarily, but she knew it was a step. Jen gave her a list of a couple different counselors, as well as a group for parents who had lost a child. When Miss Pillsbury had done it she threw the paper out. This time she slid it into her top drawer in her desk. It was a step.
That night when she crawled into bed and called Rachel she was able to talk a little bit, too. She could tell Rachel was pleased, even though she didn’t verbally acknowledge it.
“I told my sister about us.”
“You … did?”
Quinn smiled at the surprise evident in the other girl’s voice. “Yeah.”
“What did you tell her?”
Quinn knew that this was an important question, it was Rachel trying to gauge where they stood. “I told her that I stayed with you,” she said, mentally kicking herself for being afraid to tell the full truth.
“Oh.”
She steeled herself, “And that we were dating. Kind of.”
“Oh.” This response had a bit more life to it, as if Rachel had been given a little extra hope.
“Rachel?”
“Hm?”
“I miss you,” Quinn’s voice was small and vulnerable. And she didn’t actually mean to say it. It slipped out when she wasn’t thinking.
“I’m right here,” Rachel replied evenly.
“Yeah. I’m sorry I’m so fucked up.” Now that, that was how she felt. Quinn heard a rustling on the other end of the line. She assumed Rachel was sitting up in bed.
“You’re not,” Rachel insisted.
“I am.”
“Quinn-”
Quinn cut her off, “No, Rachel. I am. I need you to get that. And the truth is that I don’t know how long I will be. I don’t know if I will ever be the person you loved. Before,” she swallowed hard, “before everything happened.” She bit her lip, continuing, “I don’t know that I can be with you like I was before. It feels wrong.” Rachel’s breath caught, and Quinn rushed on, “Not because you’re wrong. Or what we had was wrong. It wasn’t. I know that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I mean that it doesn’t feel right because…” she trailed off, not knowing how to put her emotions into words. “Because she is gone. And it doesn’t feel right to have that happiness again. Not without her.” Quinn felt her throat tighten, “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t do anything to deserve this. I’m sorry I’ve screwed everything up so royally.”
Rachel broke in, “You haven’t, though. Please, just don’t rush into anything here. I’m not pushing for a decision.”
“I know. I have to go now.”
“Quinn,” Rachel breathed.
The blonde girl clenched her eyes shut tight. “Yes?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. And I love you.” Quinn could hear the resignation in the brunette’s tone as she finished her thought. “I just want you to remember that.”
“Good night, Rachel.”
Quinn hung up before the other girl could say anything else. She didn’t sleep that night.
---
It was a Wednesday, a week and a half after Quinn had spent the night at Rachel’s, and the blonde was sprawled out on her bed. Her sister had only called a handful of times since she left, and Quinn was trying to rationalize that. Jen certainly wasn’t perfect, and she had her own life to live. She knew her sister could only do so much, living two hours away. Quinn sighed heavily, pushing herself up and walking over to her desk, focused on getting some of her homework out of the way before the silent dinner that awaited her with her parents. When she sat down, she pulled open the top drawer. The paper her sister had provided her was still sitting at the top. Quinn looked at it for possibly the hundredth time, and picked up her phone.
---
“Rachel,” the ginger haired counselor’s voice was soft, “you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Emma leaned forward, elbows on her desk. “You’re way too young to be dealing with all of this emotion.”
Rachel sat in the chair opposite, face in her hands, fingers gently rubbing her red eyes. “I’m fine,” she mumbled.
Emma sighed, “You’re clearly not.”
She let her hands drop to her lap, and brown eyes peered up at the redhead. Finally Rachel spoke, “I don’t have time to deal with this. You’re right. I’m quite possibly too young. I should be focusing on my future, on preparing for nationals. I should be working on my dance lessons, my vocal coaching, my studies, my future,” she knew she was being repetitive, but she didn’t care. “I know all this, Miss Pillsbury. I understand the ramifications of falling behind at this point in my high school career. It’s hard to play catch up.” A bitter smile took form on her lips, “But I don’t care. I can’t. I try, but I can’t. And maybe that’s wrong. Maybe that’s why you keep calling me in here.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “I know you think that I’m too young to be dealing with these emotions, but I am. I’m dealing. I love Quinn. And I have to be strong for her. Even when she won’t let me in.”
Emma sat back in her seat, waiting to make sure Rachel was done with her monologue before speaking. “Okay,” she acquiesced, “but how strong do you think you’ll be if you can’t take care of yourself? I believe you when you say you love her. And love, love is tricky. Sometimes you think it’ll never work out, but then the person you love finds out his wife has been lying to him about a non-existent baby. And then, you know, it still isn’t perfect, but it could be,” the guidance counselor trailed off, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to need help. It’s okay to seek it out, and I really hope you’ll take me up on that. I’m here to listen, I’m here to give guidance. It’s actually in my title.”
Rachel, despite her disbelief at Miss Pillsbury bringing up her personal life-albeit unintentionally-nodded in defeat. “Maybe.” She didn’t say that she was hitting the wall, beginning to lose hope. No, she’d keep that to herself.
---
Quinn was surprised that her parents agreed to pay for her counseling sessions, but she figured Jen had talked to them on her behalf. The group for parents who had lost a child met at the hospital weekly, and that was free, but the one-on-one sessions she scheduled were not. She was terrified going to the support group for the first time. She didn’t know what to expect. She was afraid that the people would think her problems were less important, that her pain didn’t matter as much because she had never known her daughter. It turned out that her worries were completely unfounded, of course. The group, which included about a dozen people each week, was supportive, understanding, and actively listened to her when she finally felt comfortable enough to open up. They treated her as they treated everyone else in those hour-long sessions. It was horribly painful to listen to the stories the other parents told, but she felt a kind of connection to them. In listening to their histories, in talking of her own, she felt like she was able to find a thread, a lifeline, and after three weeks she was starting to feel the weight on her chest lifting.
The one-on-one sessions gradually turned their focus to Rachel, and she was able to express her fears of not being enough for her. She finally put into words her apprehension that Rachel might think less of her because she was unable to protect her baby. The counselor explained that it was very common to have those fears. She said that many couples were unable to get past the loss of a child, needing instead to find someone they couldn’t associate with that time in their life. It was common, but it wasn’t the only answer in this type of situation, the counselor assured Quinn. She suggested that maybe Quinn could invite Rachel to one of their sessions, or to her group.
Continued HERE