This story takes place the school year after Nationals, so hopefully I'll finish before the actual season starts. If I don't, this is AU. It's Faberry, which means two girls. If you don't like that, then I suggest you leave now. I don't own Glee or any of the characters, but I do own some of the storylines in this fic. Oh, and if you like it, please review. It inspires me to continue writing. Thank you, and enjoy!
Do you realize - you have the most beautiful face?
Chapter One: Do You Realize?
Crisp air slashed out at her as Quinn closed the apartment door, nipping at any and all visible flesh and causing her to pull her collar more securely up the nape of her neck. It was meticulously silent all across the streets, not at all how she would have ever imagined it to be in such a city as New York.
"Burrr." she hummed to herself, wrapping her arms around her own torso and descending the cracked, stone stairs that lead to the sidewalk in front of the familiar building. She almost didn't notice the little girl sitting idly on the first step, a pure white bow tied into her golden curls behind her bangs.
When she did she was halfway down, and Quinn hesitated. Pastel lights had already begun to paint the visible bit of sky overhead, just between the jutting buildings and the overcast clouds. This meant that the sun was beginning to set, and it was much too late for children such as this girl to be out. Especially on their own.
Quinn let her hand stray from its grip on her side to ghost over the cold, brass banister, steadying herself before taking the last few steps to the sidewalk and glancing down at the girl. "Hello, can I help you?" she asked, not particularly sure how to go about this. All she knew was that the situation couldn't simply be left alone.
The girl glanced up at her, and Quinn thought for a moment that she had the darkest pair of chocolate eyes for her complexion. She sported a serious expression that might have been amusing on any other child, but this one seemed to pull it off without a hitch. "I'm looking for my mother." she informed Quinn, her words spilling out like liquid and her eyes slipping off the older woman and back into the street where she'd first been staring.
Quinn blinked at her solemn persona, and her legs moved of their own accord, landing her down beside the tiny child. She couldn't have been older than six or seven, she thought, her eyes roaming over the girl. "Your mother? Does she live here?"
"I believe so." was all she said in response, glancing at Quinn boredly before steadying her gaze on her shoe. "I wanted to meet her, but I can't."
The blond peered down the street and then back at the girl, wondering where her mother was and why she would let such a tiny child sit outside on her own. This was New York after all. "Why can't you?" she found herself asking before she could help herself.
Although her expression had remained utterly grave throughout the entire encounter, the girl actually faltered, her cheeks turning a rosy shade. She muttered something unintelligible.
"Excuse me?"
"I can't tie my shoes. My shoe came untied, and I don't know how to tie it. I'm afraid she'll think I'm a moron." answered the girl slightly louder, glancing down at her right sneaker somberly.
Quinn didn't know what propelled her to do so, but before she could think, she was leaning over the child and looping her shoe strings together.
"What on earth are you doing?" she demanded, watching Quinn with widened eyes.
"Tying your shoe. Now pay attention." Quinn instructed, not exactly sure why she was doing this. Some part of her was telling her that she had somewhere to be, but she just wasn't sure where that was suddenly. "Criss-cross, and then loop the tie underneath. Now make a bunny ear here and wrap the string around it. There, it's just like your bow."
The girl watched her intently, fascination scrawled across her tiny face until Quinn had finished the task. "That was amazing." She breathed, poking the tie as the woman leaned away from her and threw her gaze back into the street.
She smiled despite herself. "Why don't you show your mother? I'm sure she'll think it is, too."
The words were immediately regretted when Quinn turned in time to see the girl's face fall, a tiny overbite gnawing at her bottom lip. "I still can't meet her." she mumbled, expelling a sigh and tugging at the laces thoughtfully. "I don't know where she is."
Quinn cocked her head to the side and studied the child, wondering how she couldn't know where her own mother was. "I thought you said she lived here."
"She does. I think. But, I don't…" the girl frowned and shook her head, not meeting Quinn's gaze. Really, why was the woman still here? If she didn't hurry, she'd miss wherever she needed to be. But then… she couldn't leave this little girl all by herself – what kind of person would that make her?
"Maybe I know her." she murmured, wanting so desperately to comfort the obviously troubled kid. "I live here, too, I think..." she said, suddenly unsure. She never got to see what the inside of the building was… Maybe she didn't live there. "What's your name?"
The girl smiled at her generosity and perked up a bit, sitting straight and heaving her gaze to stare full force at Quinn. "I'm Beth."
Her eyes fluttered open, lashes revealing a pair of misty hazel orbs as she fought to get her bearings, her heart clenching with reminiscence of the dream. Something was tickling her nose, she realized, and when her vision cleared, Quinn roared with indignation.
"Jake Evans, get your butt out of my face!" she cried, shoving the Border Collie from his perch over her pillow with his tail slumped across her nose. Waking with the sudden movement, the dog barked in protest and almost seemed to scowl at her.
Jake was a stray. One that Sam and his siblings had found scavenging around the garbage bags in front of their motel. The Evans had attempted housing the dog since Stacey and Stevie couldn't bear to let him go. That is, they attempted it until their father returned from work and demanded the filthy beast be gone since they could "hardly feed themselves, let alone that monstrosity," and things fell along after that.
Quinn wasn't exactly sure what had prompted her into volunteering to care for Jake until the Evans got back on their feet – probably the somber looks on Sam's brother and sister's face one day at church when they had spilled the story to her or a spawning ulterior motive to befriend Sam again – but she had, and it had been three full weeks since then. So far, she and the dog were mortal enemies.
A sigh escaped her lips as the girl leaned upward out of bed and rubbed her eyes, not sparing a dejected looking Jake, who had busied himself with sulking in the corner of her mattress, one glance. It was then that she began recounting her dream, eyes glazing over as she did so. Strange – it had been almost a year exactly since that particular nighttime interlude had graced her subconscious, and the thought that it was returning made her feel somewhat ill. So she did what Fabrays did best and shoved it down, casting a forlorn glance at her alarm clock.
It read two in the morning, she saw, which made absolutely no sense. Quinn narrowed her eyes in confusion and looked over at the lengthy window that took up half of the wall beside her bed. Sunlight was already snaking through the blinds, causing a myriad of golden bars to wash over her. She stared; sleep lingering on her features until everything clicked.
"Crap!" she cried suddenly, thrusting the covers off of her and knocking an indignant Jake off the bed with a yelp. It was Monday, and that might not have meant anything in the past few weeks preceding today, but this particular Monday was the first of the semester. Otherwise known as the first day of school.
My alarm, what happened to my alarm? She thought frantically as she leaped out of bed and ran for the bathroom connected to her room. On the way over, however, her legs met with something large, and she abruptly faceplanted. On the verge of screaming her frustration, Quinn rubbed her jaw where it had hit with the floor and looked down. Apparently, she'd tripped over Jake who had somehow thought it wise to veer into her path and was now moaning from being smothered.
"Jake! I swear to God." Quinn shouted, not bothering to make sure he was all right before scrambling to her feet and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. I could kill that dog.
When she was done primping herself for school – which consisted of brushing her teeth, clumsily changing clothes, applying deodorant and body spray, and running a brush through her hair for lack of time – Quinn found herself stampeding down the stairs, about to rush right out the door until she realized her mother was sitting in the kitchen, reading a newspaper. She couldn't help herself.
"What happened to my alarm?" Quinn demanded the woman, darting into the room to grab a banana for breakfast and fixing her mother with a cold glare.
Judy Fabray let her newspaper descend slowly to reveal her eyes peering at the girl over the top of it, and she winced. "Stop screaming." she whispered in a croaky voice, the top of her disheveled blond curls now visible from over the paper. "The power went out last night… Storm…"
Quinn stared at her mother as she hastened to toss the banana in her messenger bag and snatch her keys off the counter. Unbelievable. Who drinks on a Sunday? Jesus. Well, if she was hungover, the girl certainly wasn't going to make it easy for her.
"Yeah?" she asked unnecessarily loudly, eyes blazing with her fury. "Are you sure a storm was the only thing that went down last night?" The growl was delivered icily as Quinn moved to race out of the kitchen and toward the front door, not looking back at her mother.
Judy rubbed her temples at her daughter's volume and muttered something intelligible before, "Quinnie… It's not like that. Honey, stop. Your shirt—" Unfortunately for her, the rest of the sentence was cut short as Quinn slammed the door behind her and headed out to her car, mumbling all sorts of expletives.
It was humid, the scent of rain smacking her in the face as soon as she was outside. Despite herself, Quinn couldn't help but remember a past conversation about this type of weather.
"Yeah, yeah, 'cause you know how awesome it is when it's just drizzling outside, but it's not really rain, so it smells like rain but you don't need an umbrella to go outside…"
"Are you a moron?"
Quinn set her jaw and attempted to pull the hood of her sweatshirt up her neck as she clicked the button to unlock her car. It was then that she realized she couldn't find her hood and blinked before casting a look down at her appearance. Her shirt was on backwards, the hood in the front.
"For Pete's sake!" she shouted loud enough for the neighbors to hear and stormed back inside the house.
The first couple periods of her first day as a senior were a nondescript blur, all of the teachers preaching various interpretations of the exact same guidelines in every class. Honestly, Quinn felt as if she was in a daze, simply going through the motions while her mind was somewhere else entirely.
Fourth period she found herself in Calculus, draped across her desk and snoozing. She wasn't certain why she was suddenly struck with such exhaustion – probably had something to do with the fact that Jake snored, loudly, and he howled if he was put to bed anywhere but her room – but she had slipped into a heavy, dreamless unconsciousness as soon as Miss Harding had begun her lecture.
In fact, she was so far gone that it took the teacher three nudges to her shoulder with a ruler before smacking it down on the desk in front of her for her to jerk upright, eyes widened.
"Miss Fabray, if you'll stay roused, perhaps I can conclude my dissertation and cease wasting valuable class time tending to your undisciplined antics." the old lady told her, evoking a round of giggles from the spectating students as Quinn embarrassedly wiped the drool off her chin.
The slightly more Fabray-ic part of the girl willed her to inquire whether the teacher had swallowed a Thesaurus, but knowing that would get her nowhere except a feasible trip to Figgins' office, she bit her tongue and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
Once the hag was out of earshot, she turned to cast a glance around the room but stopped short when she realized Santana was sitting beside her and practically jumped out of her seat. When had she gotten there?
The Latina met her gaze full on with an amused smirk and read her mind, answering in a whisper, "I was late to class. You were already out by the time I came in, Sleeping Beauty."
Quinn nodded because that made sense, and she rested her chin on the flat of her desk drowsily, arms splayed over the side in a somewhat comical form. "Why were you late?" It was small talk, one of those up in the air questions, but when she noticed her companion remained silent, she shot a weary look her way.
Santana was visibly agitated and appeared for the entire world as if she was attempting to think up a lie to her question right on the spot. That was so not her – the Latina was much more subtle. Which was definitely cause for worry if whatever had happened was severe enough for her to not tell the truth. Quinn sat straight.
"You look upset." she commented quietly, not sure if that was completely accurate. If anything, she would have described it as "a tad troubled", but shooting in the dark worked to her advantage.
Her friend stiffened, telling her all she needed to know, and her eyes narrowed. "Yeah, well, you look like a fucking zombie." she muttered, quick to change the topic. "What happened? I thought you were supposed to dress to impress on the first day of school."
Because they had been friends for such a substantial amount of time, Quinn had long since learned to preemptively forgive Santana her bluntness. Sometimes it was an asset when she actually did want somebody to tell her the truth. Not that she did now, emphasizing this with a tiny huff. "I woke up late because the storm cut our power, but I didn't get any sleep because of this dog—" she began when a wadded paper ball sailed through the air and smacked her in the back of the head, ricocheting off her hair and into her hood. You know, since she'd taken the initiative to put it back on the right way.
"What the…?" Quinn began before suddenly being shushed by Miss Harding, the teacher pausing to glare at her in the middle of one of her wordy sentences. This caused another round of snickers as Quinn nodded her head obediently. She waited for her to start speaking again before plunging her hand into her hood to retrieve the bit of paper. As she did so, she managed to glance around her shoulder and found herself staring into a pair of the exact same chocolate eyes as her dream.
Noah Puckerman smirked before motioning for her to proceed examining the projectile he had slung at her. With a roll of her hazel eyes, Quinn unfolded the wad, not bothering to move it away when Santana leaned over her shoulder to read as well.
Once it was thoroughly unwrinkled, she attempted to read Puck's near illegible handwriting. It said:
You snore. I thought you should know since that's why Hardass figured you were catching some z's. Oh, and party. Saturday. Seven. My place. Mom and sister are going to be out camping and, like… hunting for cookies or something for her Girl Scouts. You and Lopez. Be there.
P.S. By the way, I'm really digging the sweatshirt look on you. Mrow.
Puckasaurus
Santana smirked as Quinn shot a cold glare in Puck's direction. "I do not snore!"
The cry of outrage was met with the ruler smacking the flat of Quinn's desk yet again by Miss Harding. "Miss Fabray, be quiet!"