It hadn't rained all spring until the day of the funeral. Droplets of water fell down, crashing onto the pavement and exploding into a million pieces like the fractured and broken hearts that were laid down in front of every headstone outside of the church.
Most of the people who were there didn't know Quinn well, but they were there out of respect; others were there out of a sense of obligation, because of the fact that they didn't know her. The Spanish teacher, Mr. Schuester, was there, reeking of alcohol, and standing next to him were a few of the kids on the football team and Cheerios squad.
Rachel Berry, the librarian, was sitting somewhere in the back; she'd always thought there was something special about Quinn, behind the rough and jagged exterior. Beneath it was just a scared girl who was afraid of being someone that her parents didn't approve of. When Rachel and Quinn were seniors, Rachel would catch her sitting in the back of the library, immersed in a new book every week; she knew that she was trying to hide this part of herself from her Cheerio friends and it made her so sad - to have to hide your love for something that important to you was soul shattering. She knew that feeling all too well.
Quinn was the reason that she agreed to take the job in the library after she graduated, when her predecessor had retired. To be able to catch a glimpse at another person who could lose themselves completely like that was magical. And that's why she was at the funeral. She was thanking Quinn for giving her hope when she needed it. Her dreams of moving to New York and being on Broadway were just that - dreams. She knew she'd never get out of Lima; her voice wasn't good enough, she wasn't pretty enough, no one would want her.
The day of the accident, Quinn's friend Santana had been texting her all day and practically begging her to go to a party at Noah Puckerman's house. Their on again, off again relationship was obviously on again and she didn't want to go alone just in case she needed a ride home. Quinn relucatantly agreed, even though she really didn't want to go. On her way to Santana's house, she saw her phone light up from the car stand and reached over to grab it. By the time she realized she'd run a red light, it was too late. The crunching of metal and breaking of glass filled her ears and then there was nothing but darkness.
The only people who came to visit her in the hospital were her parents and her boyfriend, Finn. Even he only came by a couple times, both times with an armful of ragged-looking flowers that were beginning to wilt. He would sit by her bedside for an hour or two, holding onto her hand and willing her to wake up from her coma, but she never did. Santana felt far too guilty to go to the hospital and the other Cheerios were too jealous of Quinn to visit.
Quinn's parents noticed that there was a glass on the end table with a single gardenia floating in it. They assumed that the nurses brought them in to add some life to the dreary room.
Three weeks later, Quinn woke up. Her parents had gone home for the night, Finn hadn't been there in weeks, and the nurses had already come in to check on her.
She was alone.
She tried to say something, to call out to someone, but her throat was dry and her voice was so unused, so unfamiliar, that she couldn't get it to work. Reaching over to the lamp on the bedside table, her hand knocked against the glass with the gardenia in it. She picked it up and turned the light on. The corner of her mouth turned upwards and she nearly smiled.
Then she realized that she couldn't feel her legs.
A wave of panic washed over her as she let go of the cup and let it crash onto the floor, shattering into pieces and spilling water all over. The gardenia slid underneath the bed, lost and forgotten.
Quinn scrambled and looked for any kind of panic button or buzzer. A remote control was connected to the side of the bed and she pushed it at least twenty times. It took a nurse two minutes and forty-eight seconds to get there - Quinn had counted. The nurse did her best to calm Quinn down, but she was inconsolable. Her parents ended up being called into the hospital and they came into Quinn's room and found her rocking herself and whispering, "My legs, I can't feel my legs," over and over again. The doctors took the Fabrays aside and told them that their daughter would most likely never walk again, but telling her would most likely break her.
So they kept it a secret.
A few days later, the Fabrays were allowed to take their daughter home. She was confined to a wheelchair and didn't speak to anyone and rarely made eye contact. When she finally went back to school, she found it nearly impossible to adjust. McKinley didn't have many wheelchair ramps or easy chair access, so it took Quinn a half hour just to get to her first class. When she got there, another student had to move the chair at her desk for her and the arms of the wheelchair would bump into the bottom of the desk, so she had to sit at an arm's length away.
She stopped paying attention in her classes, only did homework when she felt like it, which was very rarely, and no longer took part in any extracurricular activities. Coach Sue Sylvester felt sorry for her former head cheerleader and offered her a spot as the "McKinley Wahmbulance" mascot, but Quinn declined.
Her friends tried to engage her in things, but soon enough, Santana gave up and stopped calling. Finn was as supportive as an eighteen-year-old boy could be, but he could only take so much verbal abuse from Quinn. She'd call him incompetent, useless, and never let him touch her. Eventually, he said he couldn't handle it anymore and broke up with her, leaving her to tumble down into the abyss of self-destruction alone.
Quinn's health began deteriorating shortly after she arrived back at home. Her parents decided that she would be too sick to attend Yale and deferred her acceptance. Now that she had nothing to look forward to, nothing to live for, Quinn would just sit in her room and either lie in bed or sit in her chair and stare out a window blankly.
One day, Judy knocked quietly on Quinn's bedroom door. She slowly peeked her head through the door and saw Quinn sitting at her window, as usual.
"Quinnie, someone left these on the front porch for you. Take a look." When Quinn didn't answer, or even look at her mother, Judy sighed sadly and left the room, closing the door behind her. It took her fifteen minutes to move from her spot; she rolled herself to the foot of her bed and picked up the things her mom brought in for her. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky, The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, Looking for Alaska by John Green, and one of Barbra Streisand's biographies were stacked neatly, beckoning her closer. She thumbed through each book carefully and didn't realize that she was crying until a tear fell onto one of the pages, wrinkling it slightly.
When she picked up the Barbra Streisand autobiography, a note fell out and floated gently to the ground. Quinn struggled to bend down and pick up the piece of paper; she unfolded it and read it to herself.
Hi, Quinn. I just thought you might like some books to read while you recover. I know you like to read, so I've picked out a few of my favorites. I hope you like them, too. -RB
Quinn racked her brain to try to figure out who "RB" was. The initials didn't look at all familiar to her; she even looked through yearbooks and the only person it could have been was Rachel Berry. She had no idea who this person was and couldn't remember ever seeing her around school, but then again, Quinn didn't notice anyone if they weren't a Cheerio or part of a sports team.
She spent her spare time reading through the books that this Rachel person had sent her, laughing at the funny parts and crying throughout the sad. She wished that she could thank the other girl, but had no way of contacting her. Out of all her so-called friends and (ex) boyfriends, none of them had paid close enough attention to Quinn to know that she loved to read and write, but this person that she didn't even know could see that.
By the time she'd gotten through the second book, her mom mentioned that the local theater company was putting on a play every weekend that month and suggested that they go, so Quinn could get out of the house and get some fresh air. At first, Quinn said no, but when she saw the flyer on the kitchen table one, day, she noticed Rachel Berry's name as part of the cast. This would be her opportunity to finally thank her. She told her mom that she'd go and they planned on going the next weekend.
But she never made it.
Judy came home from work one day to find Quinn on the floor of her bedroom; she had fallen out of her chair and was unconscious for who knows how long. Rushing to a telephone, Judy called the paramedics and then called Russell who came home immediately. They followed the ambulance to the hospital where they took Quinn. Russell and Judy held each other in the waiting room; Judy was crying and Russell was doing his best to keep it all together. His baby girl was staring death right in the face for the second time in her short life.
They waited there all night, Judy had fallen asleep and Russell was on his third cup of coffee when one of the doctors walked out. Russell woke his wife and they stood in front of the man who would bring them the news of their daughter's fate.
He had a sympathetic look on his face, but he was calm; he'd probably given this talk hundreds of times before to distraught parents. The only thing that Judy heard was "I'm sorry" and she collapsed to the floor. Russell crumbled down with her and held her while she sobbed into his arms. The doctor explained the cause of death, which was just a bunch of medical jargon, and gave his last condolences and said that when they were ready, they could come see their daughter.
Neither Russell nor Judy could really comprehend what was happening, so they concluded that Quinn had just died of a broken heart. She'd spent all of her time alone, not seeing any of her friends and barely speaking to either of them. The only kindness she had seen was from a student she didn't even know and would never get the chance to know.
Rachel was on her way to Spanish class when Principal Figgins announced that Quinn had passed away. The details of the funeral would be released at a later time. The hallways were quiet and solemn; some students were crying, others merely despondent. Then there was the football team, who had just gathered together to share stories of how they would've "tapped that" even if she couldn't feel anything below the waist. Hearing that caused Rachel to fly into a blinding rage. She charged up to the main offenders, Quinn's ex Finn and Noah Puckerman, and told them to have some fucking respect for the girl. She never swore, but something came over her and she felt the need to stand up for someone who could no longer stand up for herself.
The morning of the funeral came quickly and Rachel wasn't prepared. She took hours to find something to wear; she'd never been to a funeral before, so she wasn't quite sure what was appropriate and what wasn't. After a while, she'd settled on a black skirt and a grey blouse. She kissed her dads goodbye and they said they were proud of her for what she did for Quinn, someone she barely knew. She shrugged and said that if the situations had been reversed, she would have wanted to know that someone cared.
Rachel made her way to the church and was a few minutes late, so she found a seat in the back. Judy and Russell Fabray were giving their speeches about their little girl, saying how she was going places and doing great things until her life was cut way too short. A few months prior to the accident, she had been accepted into Yale to study law, just like her father. The Fabrays had been so proud of their daughter that they'd bought her a new phone to take with her to college. Quinn had a bad habit of texting while driving; it was almost a compulsion. When she saw that she had a message, she had to answer it immediately, because she was afraid that whoever had sent it would think that she was being a bitch and ignoring them.
After the service, Rachel walked up to Quinn's parents to give her sympathies. They'd thanked her with soft eyes and forced smiles. Before she knew it, Rachel was asking if Quinn liked the books, never intending to expose herself as the one who'd left them, but she was curious.
"You're RB?" asked Judy.
Rachel nodded and as tears rolled down the other woman's face, she was brought into a tight embrace and a whispered, "thank you" reached her ear. "When she read, it was the only time that she looked content. You made her last days enjoyable."
Judy fumbled through her purse and pulled out an envelope. She handed it to Rachel and said that she'd found it in one of the books that Quinn was reading - the Streisand biography. Rachel thanked her, said her goodbyes, and walked to her car. She sat quietly, staring at the envelope. Rachel's name was written on it in Quinn's neat handwriting. Carefully pulling open the flap, Rachel opened the envelope and took out the handwritten letter.
She read through it, word by word, and felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes. Quinn was thanking her for the books and said that they were excellent choices for her. She said she didn't know who Rachel was or why she cared, but she appreciated it and wished they had gotten to know each other. She also said that she was looking forward to seeing her in the play and she hoped that Rachel would pursue her dreams if acting was something that she wanted to do, because she wouldn't get to chase her own.
Rachel was sobbing now and clutching the letter to her chest, not only mourning the loss of a classmate, but also mourning the idea that she and Quinn could have been friends if they had just reached out to each other. At that moment, Rachel had made a promise to herself and to Quinn. She was going to get out of Lima and follow her dream to make it to Broadway; it was the same dream that she had since she was three years old, but she never thought she'd make it. But this letter gave Rachel a newfound hope. Someone believed in her when they had no reason to.
From that day on, Rachel visited Quinn everyday, updating her on her Broadway status. She'd applied to a couple of schools in New York, one being NYADA - probably one the most prestigious musical theater schools in the United States. She told Quinn that she did it for her and none of it would have even crossed her mind had she not read the letter and been given that extra push that she needed.
Whenever she was about to leave, Rachel would place a single gardenia on top of the gravestone, glossing over Quinn's name with her fingers, and bringing her lips to the cold stone before saying goodbye.
When Rachel came to give Quinn the news that she had been accepted to NYADA, she was so excited. She brought some celebratory sparkling apple cider and two glasses, placing one in the round hole where the flower vases usually went. Rachel was leaving for New York the next month and she told Quinn how her fathers had helped her find an apartment and furniture.
The last time Rachel came was the day she was leaving for New York. It was raining and the area around Quinn's grave was covered in mud; Rachel cleaned it as best she could. She loved the rain and the romantic in her always wanted to dance in it like Gene Kelly. Since there was no one there to dance with, she'd settled for dancing with an imaginary Quinn.
When she was done, she thanked Quinn once more for believing in her when no one else did and she promised to make Quinn proud and would do everything in her power to make sure that she thanked her in her eventual Tony Award speech as "the girl who she never knew, but loved anyway". With one last kiss on the gravestone, Rachel let it linger, knowing that she probably wouldn't be able to come back for a while. But she knew that wherever Quinn was, she would be watching and cheering her on, never giving up on her like she hadn't given up on Quinn and that would be enough.