The Dawn To End All Nights: Quinn, Rachel, Rachel/Puck, PG-13
Title: The Dawn To End All Nights
Author: Kelsey / marliskelsey
Pairing,Character(s): Rachel, Quinn, Rachel/Puck, some Santana/Brittany and most of the ensemble
Rating: PG-13, for implied sexytimes
Word Count: 4,185
Spoilers: Through 1x13, Sectionals - nothing from the back nine.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. I can only dream.
Summary: Rachel Berry has taken to following her around, trying to talk to her
A/N: LONGEST FIC EVER, WOOT. It's only like four thousand words, though, so I don't know why I'm celebrating ;) ANYWAYS, this has been in the works for a long time, since Sectionals aired. It's been explored a lot, but I just want these two to not hate each other. Title from "The High Road" by Broken Bells. Hope you enjoy!
She wishes she could say she’s never made a mistake.
She wishes she could have stayed perfect.
But Quinn has been wishing for five long months, and she knows now that silly, childhood methods won’t ever work again. She’s not a child anymore.
* * *
Quinn misses her bed.
Of everything at her old house, she misses her huge, comfy sleigh bed, with the pastel pink sheets that she hasn’t changed since she was a little girl.
She almost doesn’t even miss her parents. Almost.
She’s been couch-hopping for a while now, staying sporadically with Brittany and Santana and occasionally Tina, who came out as a Quinn-supporter not long after the truth
But, God, she misses her bed.
* * *
Rachel Berry has taken to following her around, trying to talk to her.
Quinn ignores her, clinging to any sense of normalcy she has left.
But Rachel is persistent.
“Quinn, I demand to know where you have been staying!” Rachel’s eyes are blazing and she’s blocking Quinn’s only path out of the science classroom, so Quinn has no choice.
“None of your business, Granny-panties. Let me out.”
She tries to sidestep Rachel, but not-surprisingly, her growing belly makes slipping past impossible. Rachel notices this (it’s those freakily large eyes - they see everything) and takes the opportunity to push Quinn further into the classroom.
“Quinn. Seeing as it is partially my fault that you currently have no home, I do believe it is my business that you find someplace to stay on a more permanent basis.”
Quinn sighs and hikes her book bag up higher on her shoulder.
“I’m fine. I don’t need your help, Rachel. I don’t want it.”
Rachel smiles and shakes her head a little. “Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve called me by my actual name, Quinn? The seeds of camaraderie are already there.”
“What? Listen, Manhands, I’d love to stay and chit-chat, but I need to get to class.”
Rachel looks confused. “It’s lunchtime . . .”
“Good-bye, Rachel.” With that, Quinn pushes past Rachel and strides into the hallway.
She heads for her alcove to eat her lunch. She hasn’t been to the cafeteria in weeks, not since her spot at the Cheerio table was filled.
* * *
Brittany finds her mid-way through lunch. “Hey, Quinn.”
The taller blonde sits down beside her. Quinn manages a small smile because being mean to Brittany would be like kicking a puppy.
They sit in silence for a minute, Quinn chewing her sloppily made sandwich.
Suddenly, Brittany holds out half of a chocolate-chip cookie. “They’re homemade! My Papa made them, they’re the best.” Quinn takes the cookie, bites off a corner and savours the sweet taste of home.
“I have some bad news. My mom says you can’t stay at our place anymore. My cousin Jocelyn is coming down and we need the pullout couch.” Brittany looks sheepish.
“Its fine, Brittany. Really, I can find a place.”
Brittany half-smiles and leans over to hug Quinn, who pats her arm. “Sorry, Quinn.”
With that, she bounds off again.
And suddenly, Quinn’s alone in this alcove, without a home all over again.
* * *
Begrudgingly, she finds Rachel after school. Without a word, Rachel smiles and leads Quinn outside to her car.
“This doesn’t mean we’re suddenly best friends.”
“I know.”
“And we’re still not going to talk at school.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just going to live at your house, we’ll drive to and from school together and then we don’t know each other, outside of Glee.”
“Quinn, just get in the car.”
* * *
The truth is that living with Rachel isn’t so bad.
After all, she’s the one who’s enduring the crying, the anger and the late-night cravings for those super-salty pickles from that little shop across town and Quinn would be lying if she didn’t get some bitchy delight from it.
She just wishes Rachel wouldn’t do it with a smile on her face.
* * *
Not long after she moves in, Rachel’s fathers decide its time to have a little chat with Quinn.
She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them, because even though the two men are least intimidating men in the world, she can’t help but worry that she’s disappointed them somehow and now she’s homeless for the third time.
The tall African-American one starts, Gregory. He smiles at her kindly. “Quinn, we can’t express how happy we are to have you in our home. You’re helping Rachel more than you can imagine. But, we were just talking, and we’d like to know what your financial situation is.”
Quinn’s stomach drops. “If you want me to pay rent, I . . .”
The shorter one, Adam, laughs and shakes his head. “Oh, no, Quinn. We would never expect you to pay rent. We were just wondering how you were dealing with the doctor’s bills, and the new clothing.”
“Oh.” She blushes. “I’ve actually been . . . using my college fund.”
Rachel’s fathers look horrified. “Quinn! You can’t use that money, how are you going to get an education?”
Gregory shakes his head. “Don’t touch that account anymore, Quinn. We’ll help you with your bills, and I’ll put in a good word at the office. Tara, my receptionist, is out on maternity leave. Can you answer phones?”
Quinn nods slowly.
“Fantastic. Everything’s all settled then.” He turns to Adam and smiles.
“So, dinner. I was thinking Chinese!”
* * *
The conversations at breakfast are little more than comments on the weather and the occasional jab about Rachel’s outfit because Quinn’s hormonal and in a bad mood.
Lately though, they’ve come to a hesitant truce.
Hesitant on Quinn’s part, at least. Rachel’s thrown herself full force into it, as she does everything else.
“Good morning, Quinn!”
Rachel smiles as she seats herself across the table from Quinn. She scoops out a piece of grapefruit and pops it in her mouth.
Quinn picks at her toast.
“How is everyone doing?” Rachel eyes the ever-growing bump.
“She’s fine.”
Without thinking, Quinn rubs her stomach fondly, and then snatches her hand away. She can’t afford to get attached.
Quinn won’t want to give her up if she gets attached.
She’s already so unsure.
“It’s perfectly natural, Quinn. To love her, I mean. She’s your child, albeit illegitimate, but we’d be worried if all you felt for her was cold detachment.” Rachel gives her a matter-of-fact look and eats another piece of grapefruit.
Quinn quickly blanks her face, because she’s tired of Rachel reading her like a book.
* * *
There’s a thunderstorm that night, and Quinn can’t sleep.
She sits in the bed in the Berry guestroom, rubbing her belly and watching as the lighting illuminates the pitch-black room, casting shadows on the wall.
When she was a little girl, she was afraid of thunderstorms.
Quinn remembers waking up to the crash of thunder and scampering to her parent’s bedroom, crawling in between her mother and her father and huddling into a little ball until she fell asleep.
When she awoke, there were always two pillows under her head and the smell of her father’s cologne.
Will her baby’s parents do that for her? Will they love her, like Quinn is already starting to?
Quinn slides off the bed and pads down the hallway to Rachel’s room.
Rachel doesn’t even hesitate, just pulls down a sleeping bag from her closet. Quinn snorts because it’s My Little Pony.
“You take the bed, Quinn.”
“If you tell anyone I’m afraid of thunderstorms, I will kill you.”
Rachel laughs. “It’s not a fair fight, Quinn. I can’t hit a pregnant girl.”
* * *
Rachel visits her at work one day.
“Quinn!”
Quinn sighs and leans back into the cushy receptionist chair. She’s particularly exhausted today and she wishes she had sunglasses against Rachel’s incoming ray of sunshine.
Rachel power-walks inside, smiling and waving at Quinn before coming to a stop in front of the desk. She holds out a neatly packed Thermos bag and the smell of last night’s Thai food simultaneously makes Quinn’s mouth water and stomach lurch.
“I was just bringing Dad and Daddy their lunch, so I thought I’d bring you some too.”
Quinn takes the bag, switching to breathing through her mouth. “Thank you.”
* * *
In the car on the way to school, Quinn starts up a conversation.
“Are you ever going to go after Finn?”
Rachel’s eyes widen and her face flushes, and suddenly she’s looking anywhere but at Quinn.
Quinn narrows her eyes. “Rachel?”
Rachel clears her throat.
“No, Quinn, I will not be pursuing Finn in the immediate future. I have made the educated decision that he and I should be friends and nothing more.”
She still looks nervous. Quinn’s an expert at spotting weakness.
“That’s it? Just like that?”
Rachel bites her lip, and her eyes dart around the car. “Yes, just like that.”
Suddenly, it hits Quinn.
“There’s someone else!”
Rachel’s eyes widen and she shakes her head vigorously and the car swerves a little bit. “No, no, what would make you think that?”
“Oh, no reason. What was I thinking?”
Rachel smiles a little bit and sighs in relief.
They drive to school in silence. When they step out of the car, Quinn sidles up beside Rachel and leans into her.
“This isn’t over.”
She smiles her Head Cheerio smile, the smile that used to leave puny freshmen quaking in their shoes and walks quickly towards the school, leaving a flabbergasted Rachel in her wake.
* * *
A few weeks later, she walks into Rachel’s room to find her on top of Puck in the midst of a heated make-out session.
Rachel notices Quinn first.
“Quinn!” she squeaks, throwing herself off of a surprised and disappointed Puck.
Quinn throws an arm over her eyes to shield herself from the mental image.
She hears Puck as he slides off the bed and saunters up beside her.
“You know, Quinn, if you wanted to join us . . .”
“Out!” the girls shriek in unison and Puck doesn’t have to be told twice before he’s booking it for the door.
* * *
“I knew it.”
Quinn’s pacing the floor of Rachel’s room, while Rachel sits sheepishly on her bed.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you Quinn, but Noah is the father of your child and I’m sure there are some feelings that could potentially go along with that, especially since at one point those feelings were strong enough to prompt you to conceive a child together, and furthermore, I’m very sorry you walked in on us as I have not yet mastered the classic “sock-on-the-doorknob” trick.”
Quinn holds up a finger.
“One, stop talking. Two, I am not into Puck. Let’s just get that into the open right now. Three, I don’t care if you two are together.”
Rachel closes her mouth, a confused expression passing across her face.
“You don’t?”
Quinn sighs. “No, Rachel. You two could get married right now for all I care.”
A beat of silence, rather like the moment of calm before a storm.
Rachel launches herself off the bed and wraps her arms around Quinn’s shoulders, laughing and thanking her and Quinn pats her head exasperatedly in the hopes that Rachel will release her eventually.
They don’t speak of it ever again, until Quinn has to bang on Rachel’s door and remind her to keep it down.
* * *
One day, Quinn returns from the adoption agency and collapses into tears on the living room couch.
Rachel brings her a plate of her special “You’re Awesome!” peanut-butter cookies and sits with her until the tears come to a stop and the cookies are gone.
* * *
When the holidays roll around, Quinn keeps her mouth shut because she doesn’t want to ruin the Berry’s celebration of Hanukkah. They’ve already sacrificed so much for her, helped pay for her doctor’s bills.
So she doesn’t tell them that she misses having a Christmas tree. She misses seeing the presents.
She misses her sister coming home for the holidays.
In truth, Quinn just plans on spending her break at the house, watching crappy holiday movies on TV and looking through files of adoptive parents.
Until one morning, when she wakes up to the smell of gingerbread baking and it smells so much like old times Quinn almost believes it is. Following the scent, she finds a massive Christmas tree in the den, complete with perfectly coordinated ornaments and a Menorah perched on top instead of a star. There’s a pile of gifts under the tree, all addressed to her.
Mr. and Mr. Berry sit on the couch, smiling proudly.
Rachel ducks her head and walks forward as if she’s worried Quinn will turn her away.
“Merry Chrismukkah, Quinn.”
* * *
There’s a pile of wrapping paper at Quinn’s feet, and she’s thisclose to crying with joy.
She fingers the delicate pink baby blanket reverently with images of her baby girl all swaddled and in her arms filling her head until Quinn can almost feel her there.
“We know you would like an adoption, Quinn, but your baby deserves to have some piece of you.”
“There’s a white bunny stuffed animal in my room, on my bed.” Rachel smiles wistfully, “My birth mother gave it to me.”
She smiles at the two men and the girl she once called an enemy, and holds the blanket to her heart before folding it and carefully placing it on the pile of gifts she’s already opened. There are clothes there, jewelry, and gift cards for frozen yogurt because Quinn’s been craving it lately.
She wonders how she lucked out like she did.
* * *
Rachel and Quinn are sitting in the basement.
They’re half-watching The Grinch (the Jim Carrey version, because Quinn insisted and used the I’m-pregnant-and-will-hurt-you act) and half-writing out cards for the Glee club.
“How come no present, Manhands?” The nickname lacks the usual malice.
The Christmas spirit has Quinn going soft.
Rachel rolls her eyes and gets up, leaving the room quickly. She returns clutching a tiny jewelry box.
She drops it unceremoniously in Quinn’s lap, and returns to writing a nauseatingly sappy message in Puck’s special Hanukkah card.
Quinn lifts the lid.
Inside is a delicate silver charm bracelet. There are three charms already on it. One is a miniature baby carriage, one is a cross and the other is a flat little star.
Her heart leaps into her throat. “Rachel, I . . .”
“The charms represent the things that are most important to you. Obviously, the baby carriage is for your daughter and the cross for your faith, and the star represents me.”
There are a few comments that spring to Quinn’s mind, each one mean and cutting and what the old Quinn would have said without hesitation.
The new Quinn realizes that Rachel’s right.
* * *
“Ugh, he’s just so insufferable, and crude, and irritating, and such a Neanderthal . . .”
Rachel and Puck fight a lot. Quinn has to listen to all of Rachel’s whining.
She considers this her debt for living with the Berry’s.
* * *
Puck ends the latest fight with a sappy rendition of “Hey, Soul Sister” by Train in the middle of Glee rehearsal.
She avoids Rachel’s room when she gets home from school, because Quinn knows what’s going on in there and she’s been on a roll today with the no puking thing.
* * *
Quinn’s sitting in the living room when Puck bounds down the stairs. When he sees Quinn, he spins on his heel and heads towards her.
“Hey, Fabray. Do you have my weekly stack of parent files?”
Quinn nods and hands him the stack of file folders, colour-coordinated by Rachel.
“Thanks. Peace out, Q!”
“Stop.” When he looks back over his shoulder, Quinn smiles coolly and indicates that he should sit with her.
Puck quirks an eyebrow.
“We already made a baby, Quinn, and my girlfriend’s upstairs . . .”
Quinn rolls her eyes. “Shut up and listen to me. If you hurt her, I will break your penis.”
A panicked look crosses Pucks face and his hand unconsciously moves to protect his junk before the panic is replaced by a mocking grin. “I had no idea you cared so much about Berry, Quinn.”
She returns the grin. “I don’t care. I just don’t want to endure her whining if you do hurt her. Which you won’t. Clear?”
Puck chuckles and nods, before leaving out the front door.
* * *
The next few months go by incredibly fast, what with Glee and the baby and living with the Berry’s.
Quinn’s a blimp. Her stomach protrudes so far out that it makes it hard to get into Rachel’s tiny little car in the mornings, and she can barely walk to class. Artie’s been giving her rides, which is kind of him. Everyone has been so kind to her recently, Quinn’s just given up the pretense of Ice Queen.
She misses it a little, though.
It used to make Quinn feel safe, but when the new Quinn wears it, she just feels out of place.
* * *
The day of Regionals, Quinn is awoken by the sound of loud singing from Rachel’s room.
She rolls of out bed, groaning as her feet hit the carpet with a thud and she stumbles a little bit. Quinn rights herself and follows the wall until she’s reaches Rachel’s room.
“Rachel! What are you doing?”
The singing stops for a glorious moment, before Rachel opens the door.
She smiles. “I’m practicing! Tell me you haven’t forgotten that today is Regionals?” Quinn leans against the doorframe, glaring at the grinning brunette. “It’s Saturday, it’s Spring Break and it’s also six in the morning.”
Rachel rolls her eyes.
“Please, Quinn, the foundation of a good day is an early, productive morning. Besides, we’re leaving at eight.”
* * *
They board the bus to Cleveland in varying states of consciousness.
Quinn and Puck share a look because they’re both equally disheveled and exhausted. Artie and Rachel are smiling and giggling and Quinn just wants to curl up into her sweater and never wake up again.
* * *
The set list is pretty awesome, Quinn has to admit. And the baby’s being especially cooperative, because she hasn’t kicked once during one of their numbers and Quinn doesn’t feel too much like keeling over.
When they’re done their set, the energy is electric.
Quinn feels happy, for the first time in so long.
She rests a hand on her stomach, rubbing her thumb over her daughter, and watching as her teammates, her friends, wait nervously for the verdict. Rachel’s clenching Puck’s hand in that damned vice grip of hers, and Puck actually doesn’t seem to mind. Finn, Artie and Tina are having a deep discussion about the judge’s facial expressions (Finn mostly just looks confused) and Santana, Brittany, Mike and Matt are dancing frantically, probably to appease their nerves. Kurt and Mercedes dissect the other clubs poor fashion choices.
Suddenly, Rachel plops down beside her.
“You were very good Quinn. It was like you weren’t even nine months pregnant.”
Quinn smiles a little bit. “Thanks. You were amazing.”
It’s becoming less and less weird to admit that to Rachel. She acts surprised every time Quinn says it.
Rachel’s face gets reflective, staring out at the group of their friends. “I didn’t even know if we were going to make it, but I hoped so badly. Until now, all I could ever do was hope. But it feels so amazing to be here, don’t you agree?”
Quinn nods.
Rachel bumps Quinn’s shoulder with her own. “Who’d have thought we’d be friends, huh?”
“I know.” Quinn manages a small smile.
She wonders when Rachel became the truest friend she’s ever had.
* * *
They’re all standing behind the stage. It’s between them and Vocal Adrenaline for first place and everyone’s holding hands in anticipation, waiting, hoping.
“Our first runner-up . . . Vocal Adrenaline!”
Everyone’s quiet. “That means we . . . won?” Finn pipes up.
The cheer erupts like wildfire. Brittany plants a huge kiss on Santana, who looks horrified for a moment before just accepting it and kissing her back.
Finn, Artie, Mercedes, Tina, Kurt, Matt and Mike do a flying, seven-way high-five.
Puck twirling Rachel in the air and Rachel looks as happy as Quinn has ever seen her.
Quinn smiles so wide she swears it reaches her ears.
They all rush the stage, Rachel practically tearing the trophy from the announcer while everyone hoots and hollers and laughs and hugs each other. Puck shoots Vocal Adrenaline the middle finger.
Suddenly, she lurches forward, a sharp yelp of pain escaping her lips.
“Quinn?”
She feels a cool hand on her back that she knows is Rachel, and Puck crouches down in front of her. “You okay, Q?”
She glares at him. “No, I’m not okay. I think I just had a contraction.”
She can hear Artie’s voice. “Are you sure it’s not a false alarm, Quinn? My mom had a bunch when she was pregnant with my little brother.”
Quinn shakes her head, wincing again.
“No. It’s time.”
Puck’s face whitens. He quickly scoops Quinn up in his arms.
“Put me down! I can walk, I’m still perfectly capable.”
“No way, Fabray.”
Rachel takes the microphone. “We’d just like to thank everybody for coming out and to excuse our hasty departure, but it appears that one of our members could be going into labour and we really must get her to the hospital. Thank you so much for your support. We love you all!”
She curtsies for the audience, who look on with expressions of confusion. She can see Rachel’s fathers sprinting down the aisles.
“Rachel! Are you coming or not?” Quinn hisses.
“Thanks again!”
With that, the Glee kids rush off stage.
* * *
Quinn’s half-convinced this kid is clawing her way out of her body.
The labour is long and painful and Quinn just wants to go home to the Berry’s and dream away this pain. She’s screaming and squeezing Rachel’s hand and pushing with all her might to get the baby out.
And suddenly, swiftly, it’s over. The cry of a newborn baby pierces the air.
The doctors whisk the baby away quickly, and Quinn snatches at thin air because she wants to hold her. She watches nervously, Rachel and her fathers beside her. Gregory pipes up. “We’ll go inform your club.” He smiles and touches Quinn’s knee before twining his hand with his husband’s and leaving the room.
And suddenly, there’s a tiny pink bundle in her arms, two curious blue eyes staring up into the eyes of her mother.
She’s absolutely breathtaking.
Rachel speaks up. “Most babies are born with blue eyes, you know,” she notes, smiling softly. Quinn rolls her eyes. “Thank you, Wikipedia.”
Rachel chuckles.
“Hey, baby.” She runs a hand over the fine dark hairs on her daughter’s head, marveling at the silky smooth texture of her skin. The members of the Glee Club are slowly trickling in now.
Puck’s hands are shoved in his pockets and he’s staring out the window, like looking at the baby will make her disappear.
“Hey, you big idiot. She’s right here. You can hold her.” He looks over, surprised. Quinn smirks and holds the baby up a little bit.
“Shut up, Fabray, I know that.” He grins, taking the baby into his arms.
He’s holding her completely wrong. Quinn can’t bring herself to tell him, though.
Rachel sniffles a little bit, a hand against her heart.
Quinn leans back against the pillow, exhaustedly watching as her baby is passed around among her friends and then to Gregory and Adam, who gush and coo like proud grandparents.
Rachel leans in close to whisper in Quinn’s ear. “She’s so beautiful, Quinn.”
The tears fall slowly.
* * *
They return from the hospital three days later, minus one baby.
Quinn hasn’t stopped crying since she handed the baby to Ted and Amanda, the new parents to her daughter, little Sophie Rose Piedmont (the Fabray was implied).
They left with a promise to send her photos and video every other week.
But there’s a photo only Quinn has, during that first alone time with her little girl, taken by Rachel who was crying too hard to hold the camera properly.
It’s of Quinn in her hospital bed, a tiny pink bundle in her arms. She looks awful.
But her smile is real.
She’s kept the photo in her pocket since they left and when they get home, Rachel wordlessly hands her a photo-frame before heading towards the kitchen.
Quinn places the picture inside, and smiles a bit through the ever-streaming tears.
She places it on the nightstand of her room.
And it’s her room now, too. They invited her to stay on the second night in the hospital.