Okay, this is a bit different to what I have written before, but I hope you enjoy it. Set in the future.
You love her. Her dark hair is sprawled around her face, her hand clutches the sheet covering her body. Her bangs are falling in front of her closed lids, as if shielding them from seeing you. She looks so peaceful that you don't want to wake her up.
You place a delicate kiss to the apple of her cheek and she whimpers and moves onto her back, away from you. You giggle, she really is not a morning person. Your fingers skim through her hair several times before you stand up and wrap a robe around yourself.
It's raining.
The water echoes loudly when it collides with the large window in the living room. You don't love the rain but Rachel does. It's her favorite thing, when it's raining, to stay in bed all day and listen to the rain hitting the windows.
You enjoy the silence surrounding you. It is pretty rare, in New York City, to find a moment of silence. No car honk, no people shouting. If only you knew back then that the silence would be broken by muffle sobs and screams by the end of the day, you would have cherished the moment.
It is silly, you think. How it all started.
"You have got to be kidding me, Quinn." Rachel shouts at you as she storms into the apartment. You follow her and slam the door behind you; she spins around, her already dark eyes darker than ever.
"I'm sorry, alright? I didn't know it was such a big deal, Rachel." You cry out because really, you don't know what the big deal is. You kissed her. What is wrong with that? You are her girlfriend after all.
She walks hastily to the kitchen, kicking off her high heels on the way and letting them fall onto the tile floor. You almost trip over them, too focused on following the feisty brunette than looking at where your feet lie. "You can't just kiss me like that!"
"Why not?" You slam your purse down onto the table and shake your head. You are angry. Angry that she feels like this. Angry that the two of you have to hide your relationship. "We do it all the time."
"Not in public!" Rachel shouts so loudly that you think perhaps the whole building has heard her. Her brows are furrowed and she narrows her eyes. "You are going to throw my career."
"By showing you what I feel for you?" it's your turn to narrow your eyes. You both stay like this, hazel eyes challenging brown ones. The only sound in the room is your heaving breathing and the noise of cars passing by in the street fifteen stories below.
"I know that you love me, I do," her tone is softer, and you somehow manage to exhale a deep breath. "But why would you need to show it to the world Quinn? You know what my publicist said. I am not supposed to come out. At least not yet."
You huff lightly and roll your eyes. "Why not? Actors have come out as gay before and they are doing fine."
Rachel crosses her arms around her chest stubbornly. "Really? Okay. Tell me the name of a woman who came out recently and is still at the top."
You think hard, you really do. But your voice dies in your throat and you stare blankly at the petite brunette you call your girlfriend in front of you.
"That's what I thought." Rachel says quietly. "See? No one, Quinn, no one! That is why you weren't supposed to kiss me in the middle of the street in New York city! Paparazzi are following me all the time, Quinn. You know that."
"I'm sorry, alright?" You shout. "When my girlfriend tells me she has has been nominated for an Academy Award, I have the right to be happy and show her that I love her with all my heart."
"Well you might have ruined it! By tomorrow the pictures will be out. Headlines in every people magazine. Do you really think that the Academy is going to choose a queer?"
"Don't call yourself that. Please." Tears pool into your eyes and you can't believe the words that are about to leave your mouth. "I can't do this."
Rachel's mouth falls agape and she stares right back at you. Tears are still streaming down her cheeks but she doesn't seem to care anymore. She lets them.
"What can't you do?" she asks, but you know that she is aware of what you are going to say.
"Being in a relation ship with you, loving you if it means that we have to hide our feelings all the time. I want the whole world to know about my love for you. I want to be able to hold you and to hold your hand when we're walking down the streets, to kiss you when I feel like it. To be your date at the Oscars. If you can't stand that, then I don't think we are going to work out."
Your voice is shaking, the sobs stuck in your throat are begging to escape and you just want to do one thing; take her into your arms and tell her that you love her and forget everything about this day.
"Are you breaking up with me?" it comes out as a strangled whisper, barely audible but you do hear it. You close your eyes and more tears cascade down your cheekbones and fall from your chin and into your neck. "Quinn."
"I'm sorry," You murmur then, "It's best for the both of us. For your career. Someday you'll be at the top Rachel Berry."
You spin on your heels and swallow thickly as you make your way to the door. Her quick footsteps are behind you, getting closer.
"You can't do this, Quinn!" she shouts after you. It's best this way, you think. Or at least you try. You keep making your way to the door and don't look back. "If you walk out this door, we are over. Do you hear me? Quinn!"
You hear her. You just choose to ignore it, it's best for the both of you. You open the wooden door and step out, closing it quietly behind you. You check your watch. It is 3 am.
You stumble out of the building and throw up on the sidewalk. When you get back to your feet, you cross the road.
You hear a honk. You see the lights. You touch the ground. You taste the blood. You smell Death.
They say your life flashes right in front of you before you die. They are right, and the last person you can think about is Rachel, the girl you love, and what your last words were.
You close your eyes, trying to forget the pain you are feeling in your chest. You don't really know where you are. It's white, and there's silent. Until you hear her phone ring. You walk into the room and stand in the doorway as you watch her fumbling through her bag until she catches sight of her telephone. She stops dead in her tracks then and you know it's because she has just looked at her phone background. It's a picture of you both, your arms are around her and your chin is on her shoulder. You both have the biggest smiles on your faces. She sighs and you figure she is remembering last night. You wonder how she has not noticed you yet.
You watch as she shakes her head and answers the phone.
"Hello, this is Rachel Berry speaking." You don't hear what is said at the other end of the phone. A man in a white lab coat enters the room, looking at Rachel. He says your name. You answer him but he does not hear you. Instead, Rachel stands and rushes to him. He speaks o her in a low voice and you take a few more hesitant steps toward them, trying to make out what the gray haired man is saying.
We did everything we could.
Her injuries were too serious.
I am sorry.
You watch as tears flood Rachel's eyes and you want to hug her. There is still a frown on your face, because you don't really understand what is going on. Who died? You feel very much alive, except for the fact that nobody hears you.
You take a deep breath. You don't understand what is going on, you are confused. Why can't she hear you, you have no idea.
"Can I see her?" she asks, her voice shaking. The man nods and he leads Rachel toward some room. You follow them and...it's weird. You don't have to push the door open. You just walk through it. Then it hits you.
Your gaze travels to the limp body on the bed in the middle of the room. Rachel's sobs grow louder and you look at yourself. Your body is covered by a white sheet, except for your head.
"Quinn," You hear her whisper. "I'm so so sorry. You were right. I was wrong. O-our relation ship is-was more important," her body starts to shake and you just want to hold her into your arms. "Oh God, pl-please do something!" she shouts at the doctor all of the sudden. Her eyes are bloodshot and her legs are shaking so hard that she can barely support her weight.
The doctor asks her if there's someone he could call. Rachel doesn't answer, she simply keeps staring at your lifeless body.
When she finally gets out of the hospital, you follow her into her car. You wish you could stop her right now and tell that it's just a dream. Only you're not so sure yourself anymore.
Once she shuts the door, she takes a deep breath and then bangs on the steering wheel. Sobs wrack her body, fists keep banging the wheel until they turn red.
A phone starts to ring. You realize it's hers when she lifts her head and awkwardly takes it out from her pocket. You catch Puck's face on the screen. Rachel accepts the call and puts the phone to her ear.
"Y-yeah. It's true." she whispers so lowly that you are not sure your best friend has made out the words. "I-I...Can you come pick me up at the hospital?" she says through her sobs. "I don't think I can drive."
She hangs up a while later and sits motionless for the next five minutes. Then the door opens and Rachel launches herself in your best friend's arms. She cries into his shoulder and grips onto him as if for dear life. You notice his eyes are red as well.
"She's gone Puck, she's gone." she cries into his shoulder. He gently rubs soothing circles onto her back. You have to lean in a bit to hear what she says because her mouth is muffled by Puck's shirt. Then you cast your eyes to Puck's. They are glassy and red. He has been crying. You are not surprised. Under that big shield he wears all the time, there's a soft person inside, that cares very much about people.
"I know." you hear him whisper, and he too buries his face into Rachel's neck. You want to cry, you really do. You just don't feel anything anymore. There is no tears, no sobs, no heartbreak.
You are trapped. Trapped in seeing the love of your life suffer from your death.
You spend the whole day just watching her. She tries to do things. She fails at every single one of them. She has called her fathers, broken down into a fit of tears on the phone. You are not surprised when you hear a knock at the door a couple of hours later. Both of Rachel's dads come into the room and Rachel's tired body launches herself into their arms. Leroy leads her to the couch and slips reassuring words into her ear while Hiram rubs her back. His eyes are red. You suppose that he has been crying as well. You two used to be really close. 'Used to'.
Rachel cries herself to sleep that night. She curls onto her side, your pillow tucked between her arms and her chest.
Your face is on E!Channel the morning after. Rachel's dads are watching it. You walk closer to the TV to hear what they are saying about you.
"Broadway star Rachel Berry's best friend, a.k.a lover from the photos taken yesterday, Quinn Fabray was hit by a car during the night in front of Berry's apartment building. The young woman was brought to the hospital but unfortunately, she died from her injuries early yesterday morning. Miss Berry was spotted in front of the hospital in the arms of her friend and guitarist Noah Puckerman. Berry's foster dads were seen at JFK airport early in the evening."
A sob is heard in the room and Rachel is standing there, her eyes locked onto the screen of the TV. You watch as Hiram hastily reaches for the remote to turn the damn thing off and Leroy scrambles to his feet to gather his shaking daughter into his arms.
"We got into a fight, daddy." she cries into her father's shoulder. The tall man leads her to the couch, encouraging to continue. "We got into a fight about my coming out. I-I didn't want to come out be-because it could th-threaten my career. B-but then Quinn said something about not wanting to be with me if we coudn't go public. S-she wanted to show the world that she, she loved me. She was tired of hiding. T-then I told her not to come back. She left and I didn't go after her!" she cries. "I should have! W-when I heard the crash I knew it was her."
Your heart aches for her. She's blaming yourself. You don't want that. You want her to be happy.
"Don't blame yourself, sweetheart. It will lead to nothing." Hiram said, stroking Rachel's dark hair. "It was nobody's fault but the driver's. It just happened. And unfortunately, Quinn was the one it happened to."
Rachel shakes her head. "I should have gone after her," she whispers. "She was mad at me."
"What is the last thing you have told her, Rachel?" you hear her daddy ask. You remember the night as if it had happened just minutes ago.
There is an intense pain in your stomach, as if someone stabbed you right in the guts. Your breathing is shallow and there is a pounding in your head. You can hear voices around you. 'Someone call an ambulance', 'She came out of nowhere', 'Oh god.'
Then you hear her voice. It's full of panic.
"Quinn!" You hear her footsteps coming toward you and catch her petite silhouette through your half closed lids. You then feel her warm hand on your cheek. "Baby. Oh my god, Quinn. Can you hear me?"
"R-rach," you manage to say. Her free hand grasps your hand. "It hurts."
You hear a sob coming from her mouth, and tears spill from her eyes. "Where's the damn ambulance?"
She rarely curses, unless it's something very important. She turns back to you and kisses the inside of your hand. "It's okay, baby, you're going to be alright."
"I-I love you." you stammer. You want to say it now, just in case.
"I love you too, baby. So much." she murmurs back at you. A sharp pain shoots through your chest and your breathing gets more difficult. You hear other footsteps and Rachel's petite figure is blocked by two tall men. They crouch down next to you and begin to talk with vocabulary you don't understand. You search for Rachel's eyes. You see her, a few feet away. Her eyes hold fear and sadness. You look at her one last time. Then, the weight of your lids feels too heavy and they flutter shut.
"The last thing I told her was I love you." Rachel chokes out. Her father rubs her back and tucks a stray of her brown hair behind her ear.
"Then I'm sure she wasn't thinking about your argument anymore. Believe me baby girl, she knew you loved her. You showed her every day."
"I don't know Daddy, it seems so blurry now."
Your funeral is how you thought it would be. Your favorite music is playing, because Rachel knows exactly what music you loved. It feels weird now, to use the past tense every time you are talking about yourself. And it is weird that you can still wander around despite the fact that you are dead. You have never believed in the whole soul thing, maybe now you are going to start.
Rachel is wearing a black dress cut to the knees and a grey shawl is draped on her shoulders. Her hand is wrapped around the crook of Puck's arm, his other hand is covering hers. The ceremony takes place outside, it is a beautiful day of Autumn. A few speeches are given. Your mom, Puck. Rachel tries. She makes out a few words, until tears are falling too rapidly and sobs are slipping out of her mouth with each breath she takes. She walks away without another word, Puck on her heels.
She wins the Oscar a few months later. You are beaming. She deserves it and you are so proud of her. When her name is called, her eyes widen and she places her hand over her mouth. Puck, who is sitting next to her, kisses her cheek and whispers something into her ear. You think he has told her something like 'I'm so proud of you' or 'Move your ass to the stage before they think you don't want it'. Rachel smooths her dress as she stands from her seat and walks the short distance to the stage before climbing up the steps. She accepts the Oscar and kisses Frank's cheek. She takes a deep breath and starts to talk.
"It was such an honor to be present here tonight; first time. I wouldn't have believed it if someone had told me that I would actually be standing here, on stage, with an Oscar in my hands." She laughs and looks down at the shining statuette. "This has been my biggest dream since my childhood. Here's to my Dads for having to hear me say, every day of my childhood, 'I'm going to get an Oscar someday.' Thank you, Dad and Daddy for believing in me from the very beginning."
"I'd like to thank my producer, it's been a pleasure and honor to work with you. I'd like to acknowledge my fellow nominees who are so very talented and also my cast and crew. I had a blast during those two months of filming. I would also like to thank my very good friend Noah, who is here tonight and curently blushing because he specifically told me not to mention him in my speech. Sorry buddy. I'd like to thank the academy."
She takes a brief pause and tears fill her eyes. "I would also like to tell you about the love of my life. She is not here today because she passed away two months ago." Her voice starts to quiver. "She was my best friend, my confident, my soul mate. The person who did not let me give up during tough times. The one who was always there by my side, to encourage me. I did not want to be here tonight, not without her. She is the person who convinced me that I could win this Oscar. I loved her with all my heart, I still do." She looks up toward the ceiling. "Quinn, this is for you. Thank you."
A round of applause echoes in the room and you are not sure there's a dry eye in the house.
Rachel does not attend the after party. Puck drives her back home instead. He unlocks her apartment door for her and walks her inside.
"Are you going to be alright?" he asks, concern itching his eyes. Rachel turns and steps closer to him. You fear what is going to happen next. She looks up at him and locks eyes with him.
"Can you stay over?" she asks. You want to scream. You know Puck has always had a crush on her. Then, she raises herself on her tiptoes and presses her lips to his. Puck pulls away before she can deepen the kiss. He lightly pushes on her shoulders and shakes his head.
"You don't want to do that. You-you can't do that. You still love her. You just want a rebound. You'll regret it in the morning."
"I miss her."
"I know." he simply says. He wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her head. "It's okay to miss her."
"She was the only person that understood me, you know? We were so much more different and yet we could finish each other's sentences. I felt like I could be myself around her. Not that I had to hide who am I, but rather, that I never really knew who I was until I met her. She had changed something within me, something was not the same. Did you know that her favorite book was Alice in Wonderland?"
He shakes his head.
"Well, she read it at least once a year. She didn't do it usually, only when she needed some clarity or a familiar friend. It was strange, her relationship with books. She felt as strongly about them as I do about music. And her musical choices! Our tastes were so different, yet similar at the same time. I don't really know how to describe it."
She pauses, wallowing in her fond memories of the blonde.
"She quoted the book constantly. One day I was attempting to tell her about my day, but I was so flustered I didn't know where to begin. She told me, 'Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop.' I looked at her incredulously. She simply replied, 'The King – Alice in Wonderland.'"
When her ramble ends, you feel tears gather into your eyes. She knew you so well, you hadn't even realized. Puck smiles sadly and leads her to the bedroom. He unzips her long dress, letting it pool to her feet. She steps out of her heels and he fetches her sweat pants and a t-shirt. He tucks her in bed and makes sure she is okay before leaving the apartment. Once Rachel hears the door shut, she cries.
She starts the next day by drinking a glass of whiskey. You watch as she gulps it down and, without a second thought, fills another one with the auburn liquid. And another one. She has soon finished half of the bottle. When Puck walks in the apartment, he finds her passed out on the couch, rock music blaring through the speakers. He looks down at her sadly and straightens her up.
"Berry," he says softly, gently shaking her shoulder. Rachel only moans in response and shakes her head.
"Let me go," she whispers. "I wanna go."
You are not sure, and you think Puck is not sure either, what she means by that.
"Where?" he asks.
"I wanna go to sleep. Just close the door behind you when you leave."
Later that day, Rachel goes to the cemetery with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. Lilies, you note. Your favorite. She gets down on her knees and whispers words of love as she sets the flowers down on the grave.
"I miss you." You hear her say and it feels as if she speaks directly to you. "It's hard, you know? I was used to always having you by my side. I won the Oscar, by the way. You were right; I could do it. It felt bittersweet, though. You are the person who believed in me the most and you were not here to celebrate it with me." she says. She wipes the wetness off her cheeks and takes a deep breath. "I kissed Noah yesterday. It was stupid, I was stupid. He pushed me off, thank God. I would have never forgiven myself had I slept with your best friend. I just...I miss you so much. And I was a bit drunk, I didn't realize what I was doing until this morning. I want it to stop, you know? The pain. It's always here, everywhere. I feel as if I am empty."
You want to touch her. To take her in your arms and squeeze as tight as you can. You watch as she kisses her fingers and lies them on the stone before rising to her feet.
That night, she pulls open what looks like a journal and begins to write. She writes all night, only stopping to fetch some wine in the kitchen. She writes several pages before stopping when her body wracks with sobs, then she goes on. There are a few orange bottles set on the coffee table and you are afraid to look at it. A few hours later, she sets her pen down on the coffee table as well as her notebook. She opens all three bottles and drops a few pills of each in her hand. Your eyes widen when you realize what she is going to do. You want to scream, to cry, to snatch the pills out of her hand, to save her. You scream as loud as you can; only no sound is able to come out of your mouth.
You watch helplessly as she drinks down the pills and closes her eyes, the only sound in the apartment being the soft noise of the water drops colliding with the window.
Her notebook is left open, the pen carelessly tossed aside. You are able to make out a quote;
"Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop."