Completed for the moment, but I may expand on it a little, depends on the response. Hope everyone enjoys!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. Title came from 'Hindsight' by Death Cab for Cutie, which I also do not own.
Quinn sat, flicking the pen in her small hand repeatedly. All she had to do was sign, carve the letters of her name. Why was something so fleeting so difficult? She stared at the dotted line, and the more she gazed at it, it seemed to loom out of the paper at her, cornering her, pushing her, goading her.
It had been five years. Call her cold-hearted, but she honestly thought she would never have to deal with this ever again. She thought it was over with – out of sight, out of mind.
Of course, she still thought about Beth. All the time, every minute. The baby would own a slice of Quinn's heart forever – she would always remember the mild, pale face, the almond shaped eyes, the darkish, fluffy hair sheltering the soft, delicate head. The photograph that lay in her bedside drawer was cracked and fraying at the bottom left hand corner where she held it every night before sleeping.
But she never once regretted giving her away.
Puck did. Quinn had never forged an attachment to Beth. She felt no strong maternal feelings towards her, however malicious that might sound; she endured a sort of longing, and there was a definitive connection, but it didn't hinder her life, because she was convinced that her decision had been the right one. She knew that Puck's attachment, however, had been much stronger. The look on his face when he gazed at their creation had shocked her beyond anything she had ever felt – the pure amazement and complete wonder that graced his former poker face had evoked the feeling within her that she was intruding on something sacred. He had been devastated at the adoption – signing the adoption papers had been the only time Quinn had ever seen him cry.
Even so, the guilt Quinn felt over Puck's grief did not make her any more keen to keep Beth. She had wanted her away, so she could move on with her life – become Prom Queen, maintain her popularity – things she had viewed as vital back then. When she looked at Beth sleeping in the hospital nursery, she felt no familiarity – she could not fathom the fact that this was her baby, could not connect the beautiful, innocent life laying in front of her to the bump she had grown accustomed to. She was still just a baby herself. Beth was just a child, for whom she felt tangible affection, warmth and love – but she was detached from her, this separation born from the knowledge that she was never going to be a mother to this baby.
Her own mother told her she was in shock, numb – but Quinn knew she wasn't. She knew it took a hell of a lot more than giving birth to someone to be their mother. And so, early on in the pregnancy, she had started regarding herself as a surrogate – she was carrying this little girl, but she was always going to be someone else's daughter, someone else's lifeline, someone else's little girl. She kept such good care of Beth while she carried her so that she could give this gift in the best possible condition, to the best possible people.
Quinn had painstakingly chosen Beth's parents. They were her idea of the perfect family; Peter and Amelia Francis, he thirty-two and she twenty-eight – they had been trying for a baby for four years before she was declared infertile. He was tall, brown-haired, bespectacled, and she, petite and pretty. They lived in Nassau County, just outside New York – he worked as a doctor in the city, she a teacher at the local elementary school. They lived in a handsome detached four bedroomed house in a respectable part of town, had savings put away for the future, and, at Puck's request, were practising Jews. They were perfect.
Which was why Quinn had felt an overwhelming turn of her stomach when she had read the letter she had been sent a few mornings ago: "… it is my regret to inform you … Peter John Francis and Amelia Jane Francis … killed on August 5th 2015 … car accident … three miles from their home in Kings Point, Nassau County, Long Island …"
She couldn't fathom her emotions. She felt overwhelming loss for Beth – she was barely five years old, had lost both her parents in a freak accident and was now an orphan. She would never know them; never have the life Quinn had so scrupulously chosen for her.
Quinn read the pivotal part of the letter again. The part she was agonising over, the part that she was signing for, that would forever change Beth's life, for better or worse, she had no idea.
Puck was getting her.
She knew that she sounded petty. She felt petty. Beth wasn't a toy to be fought over in the schoolyard, snatched at and claimed victoriously. She was a child, a life that would need nurturing, cherishing and guided into adulthood. Her best interests had to be prioritised. Puck had opted to take advantage of Beth's open adoption, receiving updates, letters and photos every few months or so, while she had not.
She remembered signing the papers, five years ago, at the tender age of sixteen. And – she hated herself for it – but she barely even read the form. She just wanted to forget; not thinking about Beth was her way of avoiding the swell of guilt and yearning that grew in her stomach whenever the subject was brought up. She remembered something about the circumstances of Beth's future, what would happen if such-and-such occurred, blah, blah, blah. She skimmed the papers when they came through the post, signed them, and proceeded to write yet another spiteful comment on one of Rachel Berry's MySpace videos.
Rachel.
She was the real problem here, and Quinn knew it. Rachel Berry had plagued Quinn Fabray's life since the very first day of high school. She seemed to take over everything in Quinn's life and send it flying in the wrong direction. Not deliberately, of course. Though Rachel was - when it came to attaining her inevitable Broadway stardom - self-centred to an unbelievable extent, she had a heart of gold and would never intentionally set out to make someone's life a misery, like she used to.
Quinn was prettier than her, more popular, wealthier, she was blonde and athletic and had a nice nose - she was everything Rachel Berry wasn't and she took advantage of that fact. But Quinn Fabray was maddeningly jealous of Rachel Berry.
Rachel was more talented that Quinn could ever wish to be. She seemed to have Finn wrapped around her little finger and, even when he wanted her, he always wanted Rachel too – she was like this thing in the background that would never go away.
Quinn didn't know the details of how Puck and Rachel got together. She knew that Rachel had jetted off to New York days after graduation for college and had never looked back. She learnt from Mercedes that Rachel had landed a supporting role in an Off-Broadway show just a few months later, and had left college spontaneously to concentrate on attaining her dream – a few months after that, she had won a role on a real Broadway stage, and she was being reviewed in the newspapers – and good reviews, at that. Quinn knew that Rachel was making it, in a few years she would be living her dream, and the thought made Quinn scowl.
Puck had moved to New York a year after Rachel – when they were nineteen. He had tried his hand at an engineering course at the community college in Lima but got bored (according to Mercedes), and went in search of excitement, a better life. He ended up in New York, found Rachel again, and … as they say, the rest is history. Puck was working his way up in the production industry and they had been together for two years, living in a small but neat two-bedroomed apartment on the Upper West Side.
Quinn was ashamed to say it made her sick.
She was upset that Rachel had it all and she didn't; she was run ragged, finishing up her degree at Yale while interning at a publishing company. Being at Yale had been strangely lonely, despite being surrounded by people. She was jealous that Rachel was mere steps from achieving everything and she was stuck in a rut.
She knew this wasn't completely true. When she graduated, she would have a veritable degree in English Literature and Management, and, thanks to her internship, she was guaranteed a job as soon as she left college. She had money saved and so would be in a decent place financially, able to afford a deposit on an apartment.
But it was so normal.
Shaking herself, she read through the papers again. She knew she had to sign; Beth would be in the best possible place, especially after the death of her parents – she needed stability and support and Quinn couldn't give her that. As much as it angered her that Rachel of all people would be mother to her daughter, she knew that Puck and Rachel both had stable, relatively well-paid jobs, a nice apartment; they were in the best possible position to raise Beth.
She willed away her tears and curved her hand across the page, signing the papers.