Title: One, Two, Three
Rating: PG-13
Words: 2056
Spoilers: Through Journey, just to be safe.
Disclaimer: They are not mine.
Summary: From a prompt on glee_angst_meme on LJ - after her egging, Rachel reflects on her non-existent friendship with Quinn, Quinn's friendship with Mercedes, and the knowledge that the two are moving in together.
"Break it. Break it like you broke my heart."
She had learned, through all the research she did when she decided to go vegan, that there are some health benefits to raw eggs. They can be used to soothe burns, people say, or to moisturize your hair, and even as a facial for bad skin.
She'd take slushies over eggs any day, for that, thank you very much.
Her routine was the same, no matter if it were eggs or slushies. Get emergency kit out of locker. Retreat to the bathroom. Clean up. Cry.
Step by step, a casual map of actions that was the only way she could hold herself together.
The ending was always the same.
Deep breath. One, two, three.
Pick up the pieces of her heart that fell each time, and then return to life with a smile.
It was the only way she knew.
No one had come to her aid in the parking lot, as she stood there with undeveloped baby chickens dripping all over her, trying with all her might not to cry and not let any of the egg get into her mouth.
She knew that no one would come to her aid, then or ever, but that didn't stop her from absurdly wishing they would.
It didn't stop her from wishing, even more absurdly, that it could be Quinn coming to her aid.
She told herself that it was because she was jealous of the way that Mercedes and Quinn were growing closer. Anyone with half a brain could see it, the way they interacted together, both in glee and out. Quinn always had an easy look to her eyes when she talked to Mercedes, as if their friendship was an outlet of peace for her – even if they argued a little bit about how "funky" a blonde-haired, hazel-eyed white girl could be.
And every now and then, when she watched their interactions together while pretending not to be watching their interactions, Rachel Berry would wish she was Mercedes Jones.
What would it be like, she wondered, to be appreciated? Everyone in glee liked Mercedes, but most especially Kurt and Quinn. If it were Mercedes who had been egged, Rachel knew the entire glee club would be in the parking lot, half of them cooing over the girl and taking care of her, and half of them taking care of Vocal Adrenaline.
She wished she could be Mercedes, because she pretty much figured that Mercedes? Had no clue what it was like to be alone. By all accounts Mercedes' home life was a stable one: mom, dad, and… a brother, Rachel seemed to recall. No gay dads who were loving when they were home, but weren't home much at all. No biological mother who didn't give a damn about her, saying that she just wasn't ready, for Rachel.
Rachel wasn't sure anyone had ever really been ready, for her.
But above all, Rachel wished she had Mercedes' feelings for Quinn.
Rachel knew that Quinn would never appreciate her the way she did Mercedes, knew that the former cheerleader who was her sworn enemy would never want to be friends with Rachel Berry. Every slushie Quinn had ever sent Rachel's way had told Rachel as much. And even though they'd pretty much stopped, now, she knew it wasn't because Quinn was making a gesture of friendship. No, it was because somehow they had become united as two rejects, one pretending to understand what it was like, and the other, pretending to be grateful for an appreciation that didn't really exist.
Rachel wished for just a friendship with Quinn. Something that wasn't dependent on roles, something that didn't expect anything in return. Something that wasn't so weighted, so heavy, in Rachel's dreams, now seeping into her waking hours.
A friendship where the voice of a blonde songbird in her ears didn't send shivers down her spine during glee practice.
A friendship where pink lips speaking of the mundane didn't inspire the need for a kiss.
A friendship where hazel eyes didn't speak to her of mournfulness, hope, unshed emotions roiling just under the surface.
Rachel wanted a friendship of just two girls: sitting on the couch watching movies, sharing a bowl of popcorn and throwing it at the screen every time Edward or Bella said something stupid. Sleepovers with shared secrets, one girl looking down over her bed at the other in her sleeping bag on the floor. Or maybe they'd both have sleeping bags and they could pretend they were elementary school students talking about boys and love.
Someone to smile at in the hallway, and know it wouldn't be followed up by ice and cold.
What would it be like to have someone to eat lunch with? Rachel wouldn't have minded even sharing test answers with Quinn, because it meant she'd have a friend.
A reason to look forward to going to school. A reason to get up in the morning and not head straight for the elliptical, but to the cell phone to see what text messages had been left during the night.
A stronger step in her stride, a head held higher in a confidence that was real.
A reason to not hide behind obnoxiousness and self-made esteem that failed her more often and not, when she was alone.
And she was always alone.
Mercedes' voice, loud even outside the door, broke into Rachel's consciousness and she trained one ear, listening.
"We'll go and get your things packed up at Puck's, and then I'll help you get them moved into my brother's room."
"Really, Mercedes, thank you so much, I still don't know what to say."
Rachel's ears perked up at Quinn's voice.
"Ain't gotta say nothing, sweetie. You know I've got your back."
Rachel sighed and shook her head at the irony.
The voices faded down the hall and she stared at herself in the mirror, then down at the sweater and shirt in her hand, bunched up and covered in egg.
The bathroom door opened.
Great, Rachel thought. She turned to ask the intruder for a moment alone, but the words died on her lips.
"What happened?" Quinn asked.
She was radiant, as always, from the baby glow to the pink flush of her cheeks that matched her cardigan. Her hair was down, straight, flowing over her shoulders.
Like a halo, Rachel thought.
She shrugged.
"Jesse. Jesse happened."
"Is that…" Quinn lifted her hand to the dirty shirt in Rachel's hand, plucking off a piece of white and staring down at it.
"Egg shell?" Rachel offered sadly, looking at the palm of Quinn's hand. Funny, how Quinn always seemed to hold a piece of her self-esteem in her hand.
"He egged you?"
"They. Vocal Adrenaline. And Jesse."
"Jesus."
"I doubt he had anything to do with it."
"I swear, if I saw him right now—"
Rachel laughed, but it was humorless. "Don't put your reputation on the line for me, Quinn. Not after all this time."
Quinn's hands, which had been curled into fists at her sides, dropped. She seemed to deflate then, and Rachel was sorry for the bitter tone that had crept into her voice.
"I don't have a reputation anymore, Rachel, remember?"
Rachel inclined her head in agreement.
Quinn leaned against the bathroom door, looking at her. "Sometimes I wonder which is worse: having had a reputation and then losing it… or not ever having it at all."
If she was surprised by this rare philosophical moment with the former head cheerleader of McKinley High School, Rachel wasn't going to let on.
"I wouldn't know. I've only ever had the one side."
Quinn nodded slightly. "I'm sorry."
It wasn't insincere, but it was unnecessary.
Apologies from the inner circle did nothing to salve the wounds of those on the outside.
"I heard you and Mercedes," Rachel said carefully. "You're going to live with her?"
Quinn nodded again.
"I'm glad you're getting out of Puck's house."
"Oh?" Quinn raised an eyebrow.
"As much as I think a mother needs the support of the father of her child, I do feel that Puck has failed, woefully, where supporting you is concerned. Giving the mother of his child a place to stay is one thing. Actually providing emotional support is an altogether different requirement, and I fear that Puck is… well, let's face it, he's got the maturity of a puppy chewing on a shoe."
A soft smile had crossed over Quinn's face, listening to Rachel rant, and her eyes had never left the little diva's.
Rachel felt herself blush under the scrutiny.
"You really care about me, don't you, Berry?"
Her voice was uncharacteristically gentle, and Rachel all but squinted at her, wondering if the real Quinn Fabray had been abducted by aliens.
"After everything I've done to you, you still care about me. Why?"
Rachel occupied herself with trying to pick the remaining eggshells from her sweater.
"We're teammates," she said finally. "And though your voice could probably vastly improve with some pitch lessons… glee wouldn't be the same without you." I wouldn't be the same without you.
"Besides, no matter what's happened in the past, you don't deserve to be treated the way I have."
Quinn winced, and Rachel sighed.
Somehow she always managed to say the exact wrong thing at the exactly perfect time.
"I'm just glad you have a friend like Mercedes."
Quinn smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, and Rachel's brow furrowed because she thought she detected a tinge of sadness in them.
"Me, too," Quinn said quietly. "I need to go grab my books; I think she's waiting on me."
Rachel nodded and went back to looking at herself in the mirror, trying to make sure there were no more traces of murdered chicken fetus on her body. She tried not to care about Quinn's back to her, making her way out of the tenuous circle they had wrapped themselves in, if only for just a moment.
Quinn had turned to go, was crossing the floor towards the bathroom door, when Rachel had a moment where everything wasn't held together, and it spilled from her lips like oil from a broken underwater pump.
"You know, Quinn, I wish I had had the courage… to ask you to live with me."
It was as far as Rachel could go, the closest she could get to admitting to Quinn what she really wanted to ask, had wanted to ask, since that first slushie had made contact with her face and she'd seen the sneering face of Quinn Fabray from behind a cherry ice-induced veil.
Be my friend.
Love me.
Quinn stopped. She stared at Rachel, an unreadable expression on her face. Suddenly, Rachel stiffened as she felt Quinn come up behind her, so close she could feel the other girl's breath on her neck, the baby bump pressed softly into her back – and she thought she felt the baby kick.
But that wasn't what made her eyes widen.
No, what made her breath still in her lungs and her mouth gape open slightly was Quinn's cheek, coming to just barely rest against hers.
There was no way Rachel could have known that this was as far as Quinn would go, as far as she would let herself fall into the want and shame, the need and the fear.
"I wouldn't have had the courage to say yes."
Quinn stayed there, only for a moment, her eyes looking into Rachel's through her reflection, and then, just like that, the warmth of her skin against her enemy's was gone, and all that broke the silence was the creak of the door as it closed behind her.
Once again, Rachel was left alone. She stowed her hair dryer and shampoo bottle into her emergency slushie cleanup kit, and slipped her egged clothes into a plastic bag. She glanced at herself in the mirror, and quickly scrubbed the tears from her eyes with her fists. She took a deep breath, and went to the door.
One, two, three.
Pick up the pieces, and go back to life with a smile.
And if that smile wavered as Rachel, confused and warm with the memory of Quinn's cheek against hers, headed towards her locker?
It was okay. No one would ever notice.