Going to the Chapel (On Her Way)

Quinn didn't have the best track record where Rachel Berry's weddings were concerned.

She still gets a twinge in her left thigh thinking about the collision she got into in her senior year right before Finn and Rachel's wedding was due to start. She'd been late, and apparently texting and driving simultaneously was not a skill she possessed.

She remembers the excruciating pain, and then the blackness, consciousness reclaiming her for seconds at a time, each time in a different place – pinned to the wreckage of her car; the frantic statements of paramedics prodding and prying at her body in the back of the ambulance; being pushed through double doors in a hospital corridor whilst laying in a bed and being wheeled at some pace into a darker room filled with men in blue scrubs and shiny things and medical machines.

She looks in the mirror now and runs the tips of the fingers on her right hand over one of her many battle scars – this one crossing the left collarbone from her shoulder and halting at her sternum (it's kind of her favourite) where the seatbelt had clenched too tightly. She's reminded again of waking up in hospital feeling like someone had taken a sledgehammer to most of the left side of her body. She had been by herself in the clean white room, but the machines whirring around her kept it far from silent. Everything had been foggy beyond realism and she tried not to think too hard about anything, trying not to let herself remember what happened because she knew it was dreadful – the way the pain seemed to skip certain parts of her body gave it some measure of relativity.

But her mind had grown restless at the edges when she was trying to keep it blank and sleeping was difficult, so she gave in and let the thoughts lingering at the edge of her quiet mind rush in. Nothing was coherent immediately but one by one fragments of the blur became salient. A moment of mourning for her car. The tears she couldn't hold back after the irony of having such an incident after only just getting her cheerios uniform back gripped her heart and squeezed. And then the wedding – Rachel – had she been too late? Had she missed her chance?

But she hadn't. While given the choice she would definitely have taken the sound of her own voice stating her objections over the desperate car horn and crush and scrape and crunch of her car, it did the trick.

She stopped the wedding.

She figured it out just after the flashing and buzzing of the thoughts situating her brain were interrupted by the delicate footsteps at the doorway of her room. Her white room, in which the definition of the wedding gown was not immediately obvious until it moved closer still, and the soft "Quinn?" told her brain where her vision should be directed. She almost wished it hadn't, because she'd always hated seeing Rachel cry. Her croaked response and then Rachel's hand on her cheek and the whispers of relief, as Rachel's other hand - her left – took hold of Quinn's right. Quinn figured it out when she couldn't feel the ring.


"Oh thank God, we thought...we just couldn't...you're okay. It's all okay. You're okay."


Rachel had cried herself to sleep at Quinn's bedside and the sounds of her deep breathing had silenced Quinn's mind as she found sleep again.

She awoke hours later and was greeted by the other two thirds of the unholy trinity – Rachel had to leave to go home and shower – who filled her in on the wedding that never happened, on them finding out about the incident midway through the ceremony (the sudden swell of gratitude that Brittany had never learnt how to turn her mobile phone off actually quirked up the edges of Quinn's mouth), and on how Rachel had ended her relationship with Finn within two seconds of him trying to prioritise her marriage to him over Quinn laying in a hospital bed.

That news quirked her mouth up even more. She was actually smiling.

But it dropped when Santana looked away, took a deep breath and tried to hide the shaking in her voice and, as softly and quietly as she could, let Quinn know about her left arm – about the elbow disarticulation that the surgeons had felt was the best course of action because there wasn't enough if it left below the elbow to save.


"Quinn."

"What?"

"There...there's something else, that happened from the accident."

"Something...bad?"

"...Yeah. It's y-...they- the surgeons couldn't..."

"San, I can tell her."

"No, B, I can...Quinn, they...It's-"

"S, what is it?"

"You lost your arm, Q."


That explained why it didn't hurt.

Finding out she could still walk was one of the highlights of the next few days. The rest of the highlights were made up of moments of Rachel – her smile in greeting, the way she held her hand and helped her eat and could spot when Quinn was in pain, even when Quinn didn't even know. She was almost always there, which Quinn knew Santana was secretly okay with - but very secretly. They talked about everything, except about Finn. Rachel didn't bring it up and Quinn crossed 'apologise for ruining her wedding' off her mental checklist without ever doing it because as more time passed it became apparent that Rachel wasn't really mad at her for it anyway.

Quinn turns now from her reflection to the knock on the door and sees her best friend poke her brunette head around it.

"Ten minutes, Q." she says with feigned nonchalance. She's just as excited as everybody else, but she'll never admit it. Quinn nods and her friend backs out of the room to wait with the other bridesmaids. She turns back to the mirror and the slight dent in the left side of her forehead catches her attention. She smiles.


"Can I ask you something?"

"What's on your mind, Rach?"

"I don't mean to offend with this and you don't have to give an answer if you don't want to but do you...Do you ever consider cosmetic surgery or anything, for the scars? Not that you're not still incredibly beautiful, and not that beauty is only skin deep but I was just wondering...I mean...is it hard? Having them?"

"I used to think about it. But then I realised something kind of cool."

"And what's that?"

"Chicks dig scars."


Rachel had laughed then, and shot Quinn a look that took her three years to decode.

She looks down and runs her right hand over her white gown to smooth out the invisible creases in the fabric of her wedding dress. She feels like she's been waiting so long for this.


"I have to tell you something."

"Quinn?"

"Yeah. Um...I was going to save this until later but I've been meaning to tell you something and I don't think I can wait anymore."

"Quinn, I'm opening the NYADA junior performance showcase in four minutes and the make-up artist hasn't even seen me yet. Are you sure it can't wait until afterwards?"

"I'm in love with you."

"...I know, Quinn. I love you too. Now wish me luck please, I have to be onsta-"

"You knew? Really?"

"Yes, and just as well too - who gives someone news like that over the phone, Quinn? You've been waiting to tell me that for six years, would three more hours really have been that difficult?"


She steps out of the room, meeting Santana half way down the corridor. She's by herself as the other girls are with the other bride.

"Took you long enough."

"Shut up, S."

They continue down the hall to Leroy Berry who had been waiting next to the doors of the chapel. He stands to attention and something that looks a lot like pride washes over his face as he steps forward with his right arm pointing out slightly at the elbow. Quinn slips her prosthetic arm through his and takes a deep breath.


"Do you ever miss your father?"

"No. He was a bastard. I'm happier without him."

"He didn't come to the hospital, did he?"

"Not even a card."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not, Rachel, he was a terrible human being. Besides, who could miss my dad when they get to borrow yours?"

"Speaking of, they want you to come to dinner with us this weekend...as my girlfriend."

"That sounds kinda scary."

"Daddy's making vegan lasagne."

"Sold."


The room stands as Quinn and Leroy make their way down the aisle, followed by Santana who's holding the ring. Quinn grips tightly at the bouquet in her right hand and makes a mental note to aim it at Brittany later on.


"Are you and Britt ever going to get married? It's been six years."

"Pfft, we don't need marriage to be the most perfect couple in existence. Besides, she hasn't mentioned it. What about you and Berry?"

"I...She hasn't..."

"She wants to, Quinn. Didn't you see the serious side-eye she was giving you at the Asian Fusion wedding?"

"...oh crap."

"I call dibs on head bridesmaid. Or best man. Whatever."


Quinn turns to the doors and her heart stops for a second because on Hiram Berry's arm, holding a bouquet of her own and being succeeded by Brittany, Mercedes, Tina and Kurt, is the girl of Quinn Fabray's dreams and she's never looked more beautiful. Quinn can't help but think about how brilliant an idea this whole 'marriage' thing is.


"Quinn, I wanted to ask you something...I love you so, so much and I want to spend the rest of our lives together. So I've been thinking about the future and-"

"Rachel, stop."

"But Quinn, we need to talk about this-"

"Rachel Barbra Berry, I love you. Will you marry me?"

"Oh thank god, I thought you'd never ask."

"That's a yes right?"

"Yes, Quinn Fabray, it's a yes"

"You really wanna marry me?"


"I do." Rachel uttered, smiling in a way that let Quinn know they were both exactly where they needed to be as she slipped the white gold wedding band onto Quinn's right ring finger.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Quinn hasn't had the best track record where Rachel Berry's weddings are concerned. But so far this one's going pretty well.