Firsts | Summary: Rachel Berry has had a lot of firsts. It only seemed natural that when that pattern started breaking, only Quinn Fabray could be the girl to put everything back together. Disclaimer on profile.


December 24th, 2015.

Quinn-

I remember the first time I drove outside of Lima, when my small bubble of life had been popped and the world didn't seem so small after all.

I was ten.

It had taken hours to drive all the way to the Amphitheater in Columbus. Daddy was a lightweight, so the second it turned ten (we were driving there the night before), he fell straight asleep. I was more like Dad, though. I was too excited, even then, to consider closing my eyes. My hands, normally calmly placed in my lap, were wringing together in anticipation. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest the entire time, which at first was a calamity of the highest proportions but eventually turned into a steady rhythm that blocked out the loudest of noises surrounding me. The road raced past my window, as mile upon mile melted without any semblance of time. There was no such thing as Time in this strange half-out place. The not quite Lima but not yet Columbus of it all frightened and excited me at the same time. The idea of New York had yet to enter my brain, because I panicked at the thought of ever leaving my fathers behind. Even now, fifteen years later, and I still grasp my hand out to my side whenever I cross the street. Only this time, the hand I'm imagining is smaller than my father's, and softer, her hand enveloping mine completely and causing a rush of warmth through my arm.

But that's a story for another time. For this night, it was dark, and in that darkness built anticipation. The kind that has been building in my life ever since I first watched Annie days after I was born and has continued to grow with every passing day. Dad tapped his fingers against the wheel while Vivaldi's Four Seasons played quietly, its soft lullaby doing nothing to ease my pounding heart.

Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.

Dad pulled into the hotel parking lot, finding a spot close to the entrance. When the car stopped, I could see that his hands were tightening on the wheel, indecision in his eyes. Should he wake Daddy up, and have all of us walk into the lobby? (An action that would've screamed 'We're different!' to anyone lurking there at ten at night). Or should he wake his husband up to stay in the car while he got the hotel keys, while Daddy and I waited outside in bated breathe for the man that was essentially the rock of our family? Looking back, I can imagine his predicament. Him and Daddy were in their late-20s, and being out in a town like Lima was definitely not something they were used to yet, even after being there for years. You never know when hatred in someone's heart could strike, even when everything appeared safe. They always had to be on their guard.

We know that more than anybody, don't we?

But, I was a child, and I wanted what I wanted, which at this point and time was to march straight into that lobby and charm every single employee and resident there. I wanted to flaunt off my new traveling coat that I had just gotten for my birthday a few days ago. To put it simply, I wanted to be the star. And the idea that I would get anything different was simply not in my nature.

But I was young, and at ten that quality is considered adorable by adults, and so I was given what I wanted; well, a compromise. Dad and I would enter the intimidating hotel entrance, grab our door keys from the snotty people behind the front desk, and hurry back outside to help Daddy grab our bags to drag them back to the room before collapsing onto my very own king-sized bed.

And so, with my hand firmly wrapped around Dad's, with a plan in mind, we entered the threshold of the dragon's den.


The hotel was just as threatening on the inside as it felt on the outside. I could feel the plush carpet with every step we took towards the main desk, the lack of stability sending shivers up my gangly legs and straight to my core. If this was any other place, I would have wanted to take off my ballet flats and luxuriate in the soft feeling of the carpet against my toes, but even at ten I knew that wasn't something you did in public, especially when all eyes were on you the second you walked into a building - like now. I had felt the glares of the parents at school events when I sat with my two fathers, and had been pushed once or twice on the playground just because (an excuse second to my classmates' you're weird, that's why), but I had never felt completely powerless before, until this moment. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their clarity sending colorful shimmers against the stark walls and furniture. But, I was not one to be intimidated, and neither was Dad. Onward we went, like the front line of a war brigade, exhausted but finding the strength within them to fight to their very last breath. Dad was, and still is, the most courageous man I know. I'd like to think I got some of my persistence from him.

Finally reaching the desk, I hit the bell once, the loud ring filling the room as we waited for someone to come and help us. I tried to stand still like my father, but after a few minutes of my poor imitation of him I grew tired of playing that game and instead decided that he was now a tower meant for climbing. I grabbed his arms, a monologue forming from my brain and effortlessly leaving my mouth as easy as a flick of a wrist from a painter could create a masterpiece.

"And then, Rachel the explorer found the mountain known by the villagers as Daddy Mount-" I grabbed his arm, pulling myself up, my legs wrapping around my towering 6'8" father. His face remained composed, but I could see the hint of a smile on his face. "Eager to prove herself worthy to her classmates, Rachel the explorer climbed up the base, reaching the forf-" My eyebrows furrowed. "A for-"

"Forficate, dear."

"Yes, the fork in the road. Where to go? And then, all of a sudden, an avalanche hit - "

Before I could even tell him of how Rachel the Explorer saved all of the town villagers, making them regret ever doubting her amazing mountaineer climbing skills, the silence of the lobby broke as a ding from the other side of the room indicated that another family had entered just behind us. I turned around, and seeing girls my age, instantly looked back at my father with my very own pout (one that we've talked about before, Quinn, that you think should be branded. I'm still going to pretend I'm not flattered every time you say that. Because, well, the apologies are the best part).

He laughed openly now, knowing the pout as well as everyone who spends time with me does. Before I could do my signature floor stomp, Dad nodded in approval as the desk clerk finally came around to help him sign into our room.

Taking the nod as assent, I climbed down from my father and ran over to the girls immediately, taking in their appearance as I got closer to the pair. One was older than me, but even though her clothes were the prettiest things I've ever seen, her nose was held as high into the air as physically possible, her blonde hair harshly pulled behind her ears into a low ponytail. It was the other girl that held more interest to me. Dirty blonde hair, with hazel eyes that were almost imperceptible with her small framed glasses that were precariously perched on her nose, her hand moving up to push them up the bridge every few seconds. She was around my size, and she was wearing a sweater with an animal on it! I could already tell we were going to be fast friends.

But before I could introduce myself, the elder girl barked out a question. "Who are you?" She pursed her lips, allowing herself to show a slightly crueler edge as both of her parents went to the desk, waiting behind my father. "We're the Fabrays. Surely you know of us." The younger girl scoffed next to her, earning a glare from what I imagined at the time (correctly) to be her older sister. "I'm Francesca, but friends call me Frannie." She looked again at my disheveled appearance. I didn't see anything wrong with me, but she must have because her sneer turned even more unattractive, as if she smelled something bad in the room. "You, don't call me anything.." She flicked her hand briefly over to the girl next to her, but it didn't look like she really noticed her much. She didn't even look her in the eyes." This is my little sister, Lucy."

Lucy. What a pretty name. What a pretty girl. Her eyes were locked onto mine, and I smiled despite myself. This other girl, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice that at all. Unlike her sister, I had no problems with standing up for myself. "Hi, my name's Rachel Barbra, as in Streisand." I smirked, my hands on my hip. Unlike Lucy, who seemed to be already folding within herself at the very idea of conflict, I rose to the challenge. "That's my dad, over there. He's getting our room keys. We're here to see The Lion King." Okay, I was bragging. But you remember Frannie; she was and is to this day an insufferable know-it-all, especially back then. She could be taken down a few pegs, and I love being the one who's doing it.

"Him?" She pointed towards the desk, where my father was quietly speaking to the man behind the desk, filling out paperwork and asking questions as only a lawyer knows how. "Isn't he a little, well..."

"Well, what?"

"Dark?"

My fists balled up, a gasp emerging from somewhere but later revealed to be Lucy.

"Why are you being so mean, Frannie?" Lucy turned back towards me, her hazel eyes somehow causing my muscles to relax slightly, for my heartbeat to slow down. "We're going too. To the Lion King, I mean." She smiled slightly, a flush coming up her neck and reaching her cheeks. "It's my favorite movie, and so for Christmas my dad said we could go here for the weekend."

"She doesn't need our life story, Luce." Frannie walked over to me, towering over me in her four years of seniority. "You're going to the show too? Honestly, they'll let anyone in, won't they?"

"Leave her alone!" I closed my mouth, shocked, as the soft-spoken girl in front of me practically barked at her older sister. Fearing the worst, I looked surprised when Frannie merely smirked back at her.

"My, my. Already so touchy. Fine, far be it for me to stand in between true soul mates. Besides, that bell boy has been looking at me for ages and you two are boring me." Without a second thought, she walked away, her steps looking as stiff and frozen as her entire personality did. I turned back to Lucy, smiling as the girl shook slightly at what just happened. My hand unconsciously slid into her own, my thumb rubbing the top of her hand in comfort, and she looked backed up as a soft smile filled her face.

"You didn't have to do that for me." I whispered, never usually so solemn.

She nodded. "Yes .I think I did, Rachel." Then, before I could even register it, I felt a quick soft press to my cheek as her lips met it, before a quick flush covered her face and she walked towards her parents.

My hand never left my cheek that night, even as I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

"Good night, Lucy."

If I closed my eyes hard enough, I could almost imagine her saying it back.


A/N: Dedicated to the following: Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray, for taking over my heart; Emily, for causing me untold amounts of faberry feelings this week; Kris, the sick girl who enabled me to jump over that hurdle of writing again, however short; Alix, for getting crazy excited for something when she probably shouldn't have; Ellen, for letting me message her countless times today which got my writing slash beta juices flowing; and most of all, Laura, who's opinion matters the most to me and who I wouldn't trade for anything. I love you guys, and you the most. I'm not going to say which one I mean by you, but you know who you are. It's you if you are shaking your head like "it couldn't be me". I hope you enjoyed it!