A/N: The inspiration for this story comes from the greatest woman I have ever known.
PART ONE
(All I Know Since Yesterday Is Everything Has Changed)
Quinn's Grandma used to tell her the same story every night, before bed, when she was little-long before Quinn was cynical, and long before her Grandmother's dementia took away everything that had made her great.
"Listen here, Lucy," her Grandmother would start, her eyes peering over her the rims of her glasses. "This isn't a story for the faint of heart. It's only a story for the brave."
Quinn, with her footie pajamas and wild six year old heart, would puff out her chest, because Quinn believed that she was the bravest of them all. She was especially more brave than Frannie. Her sister Frannie, who was always too scared to squish a bug and often terrified that a boy might not like her back. Yes, Quinn was definitely far braver than Frannie.
"I'm brave!" Quinn would nearly shout, her legs growing more and more restless.
Her Grandmother would smile in return and proceed to tuck her in, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Ah, but are you brave enough for love?"
At this, Quinn would always frown. She made mud pies for her Daddy and she wore those stupid dresses to church for her Mommy and she even kept Frannie's hidden diary spot a secret. She ate all her vegetables and held her Grandma's hand when crossing the street - even though she really didn't need help anymore because she was a big girl. She cleaned her room and listened to her parents and kissed them goodnight. To her, that was love, and it required no bravery. It was as easy as breathing.
"Of course," Quinn would huff out, upset that her Grandma would ever assume that she wouldn't be.
"Well," Grandma Lucy would begin, her voice as quiet as a secret, "Love is a very different kind of brave, did you know that? Sometimes love is for your family and friends. Other times, it's for your soul mate. Remember that word, Lucy. Soulmates . Sometimes you meet them, sometimes you keep them, and sometimes you let them go."
(THIS IS HOW IT WORKS)
They meet when Quinn is ten.
Quinn Fabray is a little chubby and a lot of quiet, the bravery that used to flow so freely through her veins has been shrouded with fear and expectations. She doesn't want an adventure or bravery anymore, she just wants to be the girl her parents want her to be, and that includes getting to her ballet class on time.
There was nobody to blame for her tardiness, but herself. She had gotten caught up in a pastime of Lucy's (stopping to smell the roses, and watch the people, and look at the world) and she hadn't realized how late it was until the class bell was ringing. It was fitting in a sense, because Lucy was always late to the party, even if the party was just a dance rehearsal that she didn't really want to be at anyway.
But she's here anyway and she's going to make an effort, because her parents want her to and she doesn't want to disappoint them. Not when her daddy has been spending more and more time at work. Not when her momma keeps having "extra" glasses of wine, and definitely not while her grandmother is having a hard time remembering who Quinn is.
Quinn shakes her head because she doesn't want to think about things that make her sad, it's too hard. Instead, she rushes through the corridors, her flats sliding all over the newly waxed floor. She's running so quickly and moving so carelessly that Quinn doesn't see any sign of Santana Lopez until she's tripping over a discarded backpack and falling clumsily- in a way that Lucy was all too good at.
She hesitates once she hits the ground, because even though Lucy was good at falling, she was never particularly skilled at getting back up, and Quinn has to grasp her bearings before she can remind herself how to do it.
Quinn peers up at the only other person in the hallway, mostly out of curiosity and partly out of blame. If her eyes could spell accusation, she'd be spelling it out in spades. Whatever that means.
When her eyes focus on the girl a few feet away from her, a part of Quinn wants to laugh. She recognizes Santana. She recognizes Santana like children recall memories: messily and with a strange amount of accuracy.
Santana Lopez at ten is about as terrifying as a baby chihuahua. It helps that Quinn has seen her around since they were in preschool. Lima likes to pretend that it has all the possibilities of an actual city, but it really is just a small country town. Because of this unavoidable history, it's hard for Quinn to be scared of Santana, the girl who used to cry every time they were forced to eat jello in pre-k.
Quinn ignores the thought and continues to stare openly at Santana. She's not intimidating like her older brother and she's not the same little girl who used to cry over snack time. Santana Lopez at ten is awkward looking. She has too many hard angles that are covered up by too baggy of clothes.
Santana's different now, Quinn notices. She wonders, briefly, if Santana is different in the way that Quinn is now, too.
She doesn't look like trouble-not at first glance- or anything that Quinn shouldn't associate herself with. But upon closer inspection there's this noticeable glint in Santana's eyes that screams mischievous, and when Quinn squints, it's easy to see how much Santana is like her older brother.
Santana doesn't apologize, she just looks at Quinn like she should have known better than to be running through the halls-which, Quinn did, she totally did. She would have apologized for not being more careful if Lucy wasn't disappearing as quickly as her baby fat. A part of her wants to resort to old tendencies because Lucy wasn't good at many things, but she was smart and she was curious and she sometimes did things she wasn't supposed to. Lucy was brave and Quinn...well, Quinn is good at following orders.
Things are different now, Quinn thinks. Dad's stop paying attention, Mom's don't ask you how your day is and Grandma's grow up to forget who you are. There's no time for Lucy in a world that relies on self efficiency.
There's no time to love or challenge or think when you could be succeeding.
So Quinn stands and brushes herself off (the way that she imagines Lucy wouldn't ever do). She contemplates what she should do next because Lucy was never very good at making friends and Quinn never quite knew what to say, so instead of saying anything Quinn just pulls her face into a sneer (exactly like how Frannie had taught her) and directs it towards Santana.
Santana grabs her backpack off the floor without acknowledging Quinn's sneer, and puts her arms through the straps. Quinn's doesn't budge, her sneer in place and her body unmoving.
"Are you retarded or something?" Santana asks, when she finally meets Quinn's eye, her question brash and offensive.
Quinn rears her head back, her whole body in awe that somebody her own age would ever dare utter words so harsh. She's never seen a sentence like that met with anything other than soap, and it's kind of a surprise when an adult doesn't appear out of a classroom, a frown on their face and a punishment in their hands.
"No," Quinn answers after a few moments of silence.
Santana shrugs, her hands waving away Quinn's response. "Then do you want to help?"
Santana's pointing at this glass case that's to Quinn's right. It's full of photos of old ballet dancers and ballet classes and she can't help but be a little curious as to what Santana needs help with. Especially when said help involves the glass case that holds some of her older sisters awards. Quinn had recognized it immediately because Frannie used to always point it out.
This is where things get tricky because Quinn isn't the type of girl to run afoul with a complete stranger. She's not the type of girl to do anything, really, not anymore. She's not even sure what Santana's up to exactly but she knows it can't be good, she can tell from the way that Santana is looking at her, as though she's imploring her quietly to just take a chance.
Quinn looks away because she can't handle it. It's a curse from Lucy, heavy gazes make her uncomfortable. So instead she focuses her attention on the glass display case. Quinn can see Frannie's perfect face and her perfect smile (relating to her perfect, uneventful life), even from where she's standing, and in a split second she decides that whatever this is going to be, it'll worth it.
"Okay."
Quinn has been best friends with Santana Lopez for as long as she can remember.
(well, five years, actually. But often that felt like a lifetime.)
What started as an impromptu hangout all those years ago blossomed into a full grown friendship. Her father had been furious all those years ago when he heard how she had skipped ballet class (the thing he assumed would make Quinn better) to hang out with some girl who had more of a mouth than she had kindness.
Then he found out who Santana's father was, and everything changed.
Santana's father was the only plastic surgeon around for miles. He was wealthy and sought after and his social circle was something Russell could never get into, not even on his best day.
During those first few years Quinn often felt like a pawn in her father's game of chess. He used her, he moved her, and eventually he conquered what he needed to. It didn't change her friendship with Santana but it did change her relationship with her father, something that he has been able to unchange since.
Things are pretty much the same. Well, except for when they're not.
Santana isn't the awkward girl with weird angles anymore. She's filled out in a way that makes all the boys at McKinley go crazy. She's still mischievous, but she's also talented and good at math.
Quinn isn't anything like the girl she was when she was ten, at least not physically. Somewhere between thirteen and now she grew six inches, her hair lightened, she got contacts, and her appearance started being called timeless instead of just being a waste of time.
Quinn thinks about it sometimes, when she's not stuck at another insane Cheerios practice or lounging around at Santana's. She thinks about how weird it is to start one place and end up somewhere completely else. She's grateful, though, because she thinks that there's a lot of things that could have gone differently and if they had, maybe Quinn wouldn't have made it out alive.
They've changed because they've aged, but the important things, the things that will matter until forever, those haven't.
They still love each other fiercely. They still spend as much time as they possibly can together. They're still best friends, even in the ways that don't always count.
Santana is still the brash girl Quinn met when she was ten. She's still brave and rude and a handful, and she still protects Quinn like she's made of glass. She still goes on adventures and sometimes she'll even make Quinn come, too.
(CHEERIOS.)
Quinn is still quiet and calculating, the only difference is now those things work in her favor. She's cold to everyone but Santana and she spends more time ignoring her empty house than she spends talking to her parents.
Their dynamic works because they love each other and that's the only thing they really need to succeed.
Quinn still goes to visit her grandma every Saturday, even though it rarely helps. She goes to visit and she retells the stories her grandma used to tell her all those years ago, a part of her hoping that they'll both find something they lost along the way. Sometimes it works, sometimes her grandma calls her Judy, and sometimes Quinn just thinks about how some things change in the worst way.
Afterwards, she always hopes that her and Santana don't change in the worst ways because her relationship with Santana is the sanest thing she has, and she just might drown in this ocean of life if she doesn't have at least one buoy to hang on to.
The truth is: everything else in Quinn's life is complicated, to this day, but whenever Santana's around...she just has a way of un-complicating things. The truth is that when Quinn pivots right, Santana always pivots with her, and everything just fits so well and runs so smooth that Quinn can't help but feel like they were always meant to be together somehow.
The summer before their Junior year is when things start to change. Not outrageously or even in a way that makes sense. Quinn just...feels different and she can't figure out why.
They're lying down near Santana's pool, their bathing suits skimpy and their skin glistening from the heat, when Quinn first feels like something is shifting.
Santana has this tiny, black, Calvin Klein two-piece on and has these enormous coach shades and her hair is up in a bun. She looks like a model, is Quinn's thought, because Santana is the prettiest girl around. It's a fact more than it's a nice gesture.
Santana turns around so that her stomach and chest are facing the sun, her arm covering her eyes. Quinn just continues to watch her, just like always, curious as to what Santana will do next.
Santana sighs in an extravagant way, like lying there is taking too much effort. "Puckerman asked me out."
Curious, Quinn sits up, her gaze solely focused on Santana now. "Really?"
Santana tilts her head to the side so that she's peering up at Quinn. "Yeah."
Quinn had never thought about it before because the subject had honestly never come up. Santana rarely expressed an interest in the boys at McKinley and even though Quinn had always thought i was odd, she had always liked it that way. She enjoyed being the only priority of Santana, and maybe that made Quinn selfish or weird, but whatever. She wasn't one to be particular with things, but she was always particular with Santana.
Quinn let's out a short, foolish laugh. "What did he say when you told him no?"
Santana, ever the mystery, looked away. "I didn't."
(This is when things get weird.)
Quinn, who always tried to be understanding with Santana, couldn't wrap her head around such a decision. It was weird because this possessive feeling found it's way to her heart and all she could think about was that Puckerman was a stupid boy with an ugly haircut and no future, and there was no way she was sharing Santana with him.
Her thoughts were alarming and new and Quinn had to look out at the pool to keep Santana from seeing her panic.
Santana knew, though, that something was different. They had been friends too long for her to not know. It made Quinn nervous because she wasn't even certain what was happening and she couldn't handle Santana seeing what Quinn wasn't even aware of until now.
Her heart ached in a way she didn't understand, in the way it used to ache when her parents would leave for long periods of time. In the way hearts ache when they're being left behind and forgotten.
Quinn is so caught up in her thoughts that she doesn't see Santana move, she doesn't even register that Santana is still present until Santana sits down next to her.
"Hey," Santana says softly, her shoulder bumping Quinn's. "This doesn't change anything."
'Liar', Quinn wants to say, because everything has already changed, Santana just can't see what Quinn is finally catching a glimpse of. So instead she says nothing.
Santana grabs Quinn's left hand and intertwined their fingers. "You'll still be my number one, okay?"
Quinn knows that Santana is trying to comfort her but Santana's statement makes her feel uneasy instead. The fact that Santana has to even say these things in the first place, that she says them to Quinn as seriously as a boy would say to a girl, proves that something has been different between them all along and Quinn is only now noticing it.
She wants to hold in her disappointment and be happy for Santana, but she's a selfish sixteen year old girl. She wants what she wants, and that's just how things go sometimes.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Quinn says, as she disentangles their hands.
Santana, to her credit, only looks hurt for a moment. She stands up quickly and pulls the shades off her face before throwing them down onto the pool chair. Quinn crosses her arms because she knows when a battle is coming and she's not willing to give up so easily.
Santana doesn't say anything. She just kneels down in front of Quinn and wraps her arms around Quinn's waist before placing a soft kiss right above Quinn's belly button.
Quinn can't help it when her hands cautiously separate and lower themselves down to Santana's hair. She can't help it when her hands pull Santana's hair out of its bun and start combing through her hair so softly that it makes Santana sigh. She can't help any of these things, just like she can't help the sudden onset of emotions based on the fact that this whole situation is different.
It starts coming to her in spades, then. Things like the fact that they still share Santana's twin bed every night even though they're both too grown to fit into it comfortably. Or like the fact that Santana leaves her voice mails every few weeks, sometimes with songs other times with her love and encouragement. Or like the fact that they have showered together, just not in that way, but still.
It hits her then how whenever Quinn thinks about the future, it always revolves around Santana and her and what they'll be doing together. It feels like this was inevitable and it bugs her because she doesn't know how she didn't see this before.
Santana stirs briefly below her before placing another gentle kiss on Quinn's now flat stomach, and all Quinn wants to do is cry for all the things she has, all the things she won't, and all the things Santana has taken from her (along with the things Quinn's freely given).
It goes to show that Santana always has to be the best at everything because while Quinn was learning what made Santana tick, Santana was busy stealing her heart.
Quinn goes to visit her grandma that weekend-two weeks before school starts.
Sheryl (the front desk receptionist) smiles warmly when Quinn crosses through the automatic double doors. It's been years since grandma Lucy had been admitted to this home, and years since Quinn had started coming alone, and even though lots of things have changed in that time, Sheryl hasn't.
Sometimes Quinn wonders if it's because Sheryl loves her job or if it's because she can't afford to leave or even if it's because she's comfortable. Whatever Sheryl's reasoning is, Quinn finds it pointless, because she likes having a familiar face in a place that feels so unknown.
Sheryl doesn't make her check in, not anymore, she just waves her through with a smile and a wink, like she knows both things are what Quinn really needs right now.
Quinn's grandma is on the sixth floor, along with all the other patients who suffer from mental illnesses. It's a floor that has more nurses and more security. She smiles at the security officer guarding the door and walks the familiar route to her grandma's room.
She isn't really sure why she comes here anymore, especially when her mother, father, and Frannie stopped, but she's here anyway. She thinks it has to do with the fact that she's not ready to let go and Santana thinks it's because Quinn just wants to understand why it was her grandma of all people who had to forget.
Maybe it's both those things.
Quinn stops outside of her grandmother's room and runs her fingers over her dress. Her grandma's door is open, like always, and Quinn likes to think it is because she is always inviting others in.
Quinn inhales a huge breath of air and squares her shoulders. She takes a few steps in, knocks on the door, and walks the rest of the way until she's standing in front of her grandma's bed.
Her grandma is lying in bed, her eyes focused on the view outside the window. Her grandma is a tiny woman, with curious hazel eyes and white hair (that used to be the brightest blonde). She has more wrinkles and liver spots than this building has patients, but they only make her look more kind. If there was ever a woman suited for aging, it is her grandma.
Quinn glances in the direction her grandma was looking. The sun is shining and the birds are singing, but there is hardly anything else worth watching out there. Although, Quinn was pretty sure that wasn't the point.
(Isn't that why the caged bird sings?)
Quinn clears her throat to draw her grandma's attention. It works because her grandma peers at Quinn, her eyes shining in acknowledgement, and for a second Quinn almost thinks that today will be easy.
"Judy?" Her grandma asks, her hands clasped together on her lap.
Quinn shakes her head softly, disappointment making her shoulders drop. "No, grandma Lucy. It's Quinn."
Her grandma makes a pained expression and looks towards the door like she was expecting someone else to come in. "Quinn." Her grandmother says, her face frowning when she said her name, as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. "What a strange name." Her grandma stared at her for a minute as if she was settling on something involving Quinn. "I like that."
Quinn shrugs, worry starting to creep into the corners of her mind. "Thank you."
Her grandma nods, a grin on her face. She frowned after a minute. "You sure do look a lot like my Judy. How do you know her again?"
Quinn's face fell. Honestly, she had no idea why she kept coming to these visits and who the visits were truly for. Herself or her grandmother. "I don't."
Her grandmother sighed and looked back outside the window, clearly tired. Quinn was too, it was draining, this dance they always did. In the end, Quinn always caved, because it was nicer to be somebody that her grandmother knew then it was to be nobody at all.
"Judy?" Her grandma called out after a few minutes. Her eyes were confused and her lower lip was quivering.
Quinn smiles softly and takes the seat right next to her grandma's bed. She grasps her grandmother's hand and does her best to sound gentle. "Yes, it's me."
"I knew you would come back," her grandma says confidently. "I just knew it."
"Yeah," Quinn agrees. "You did."
"Judy, do you remember what I used to tell you about love?"
Quinn's heart swells in a way that reminds her of her childhood. It's nice that some things don't disappear along with the others.
"You said it was an awfully big adventure."
She leaves after a few hours with a promise to come back next weekend. Even though her grandma won't remember, it makes Quinn feel better to say the words out loud. Like they're more true and likely to happen if someone else hears them.
She's in the parking lot when her phone rings. She assumes it's Santana because more often than not, it is. She pushes the talk button and puts the phone to her ear, her voice already excited and playful.
"What's up, sugar lump?"
"Wow," a nasally voice filters through. "You have never sounded so excited to speak to me."
Quinn doesn't need to look at the caller id to know who it is. Instead she rolls her eyes and unlocks the door to her car. "What do you want, Frannie?"
"Ouch," Frannie says, her voice light. "Can't a sister call for absolutely no reason at all except to see how her baby sis is doing?"
Quinn slid into the car, her hands twitching to end the call. "One: that is a reason. Two: you never do that."
Frannie sighs. "I wanted to congratulate you on getting co-captain."
"Really?"
"Really," Frannie reiterates. "I mean, it's no head captain, but at least it's something the scouts at Tennessee State will look at."
"Santana thinks I can get into NYU, maybe even Yale."
Frannie laughs obnoxiously loud. "So you're just going to follow that girl around for forever? You need to separate yourself, Quinn, this relationship isn't healthy and it won't last forever. Tennessee State is a great school and you would do well there, by yourself."
"Who even says I want to go to Tennessee State? It's just like another version of crappy McKinley," Quinn spits out.
"Watch it," Frannie warns. "I went there."
"Which of course means I'll have to do it, too, even though we both know I'll never measure up to perfect Frannie."
"Quinn," Frannie says softly.
"No," Quinn interrupts. "We both know that's what dad wants and we both know that's what mom's thinking. You graduated at the top of your class, you were cheerios captain for three years and won three national championships, you got a full ride to Tennessee State and graduated with honors. You married your college sweetheart and live in an awesome country town where you'll have awesome country kids, and I'm just Quinn. But maybe I like being just Quinn, okay? And maybe I like thinking that one day I'm going to make farther than you ever did." By the time Quinn's done, her chest is heaving and her hand is gripping the steering wheel exceptionally tight. She closes her eyes and does her best to calm herself, Frannie is eight years older and Quinn has absolutely no right to speak to her this way. "Sorry," Quinn mutters, before adding as an afterthought, "I've just got done visiting grandma and she kept calling me Judy the whole time. I'm just..."
"Quinn," Frannie grunts in frustration. "I just want what's best for you, okay? These past few months..." Quinn freezes when she thinks she hears Frannie sob. "These past few months I've just been thinking about what a horrible sister I've been to you, especially with mom and dad, especially when you needed me. I want to change things between us, Quinn, because we really only have each other."
"Frannie?" Quinn calls out, worry lacing her voice. "What's going on?"
"John and I are getting a divorce."
The day of Quinn's sixteenth birthday is an uneventful one. Frannie didn't come home, mostly because she wasn't allowed. Their father...he was tiffed beyond measure at the news of Frannie's divorce. He called Frannie selfish and horrible and all the names a father should never call his daughter, all because Frannie had decided she didn't want to be married anymore.
It turns out that Frannie didn't enjoy being married or living in Tennessee. It turns out that Frannie met this italian guy named Marco and she wanted to go see Europe with him, and she wanted to teach English to students in other countries. Frannie didn't want to be a wife or a mother or any of the things that Judy was.
It was nice in a way because her parents image of perfection had finally been torn down. But it also sucked, because even though perfect Frannie was doing something imperfect, she was still doing it before Quinn and she was doing it perfectly. She was going to Europe to teach English to students. She was living in a way that far outweighed anything Quinn could ever do. Frannie outshine her again, even when she was messing up.
Overall, her birthday was a depressing affair. It was two days before school started so Santana was busy shopping with her parents and Quinn's parents were busy yelling and getting drunk-which, really, isn't different from any other day.
So instead of wallowing in the despair that is her life, Quinn swipes her dad's emergency credit card and buys a whole bunch of only books for her kindle. She orders some songs, some stockings, and even a fake Harry Potter Hogwarts award letter. It could be worse, so she settles down around midnight and uploads the new Game of Thrones book, hoping to end her night a better way than it started, when she hears something hit her window.
It's pointless because Quinn knows her parents are already passed out, so there's really no reason to be so sneaky. Still, Quinn's curious so she heads to the window and opens it. She almost laughs in surprise when she sees Santana standing on her lawn, a rose in her left hand and a boombox in the other.
"Are you going to stand there all night looking pretty, Fabray? Or am I going to have to bust a move here and get this thing going?" Santana asks, her hand lifting the boombox.
Quinn shakes her head and closes the window before bolting out of her room and running down the stairs. She opens the door quickly and wastes no time with enveloping Santana in a hug. "I thought you were with Puck tonight?" Quinn whispers into Santana's neck.
"I told you," Santana says as her arms circle around Quinn's waist. "You'll always be my number one."
They kiss a few months later because Quinn is sixteen and a half and because Santana is looking out for her.
At least, that's what Santana says after her lips touch Quinn's.
The day leading up to it starts off weird enough because Finn Hudson goes through this huge ordeal to ask Quinn out and Quinn decides to say yes. She's tired of looking down the hall and watching Puck shove his tongue down Santana's throat with little class or care. At least this way she would actually get to be around Santana more, and she wouldn't feel like the third wheel.
Santana isn't pleased when she finds out and it only serves to make Quinn more confused. The past year has been a whirlwind of things and Quinn hasn't had time to focus on whatever changed between Santana and her during the summer, or to see if Santana felt it too. Santana says it's because she doesn't want Quinn's first kiss to be with Finn 'man boobs' Hudson, she says it's because she wants Quinn to have an actual experience that she'll enjoy remembering years later.
It happens just as quickly as any other moment that has the tendency to change ones life: unexpectedly quick, until further thought and recognition.
Quinn doesn't really think anything of it. She's more caught off guard than she is worried about it because she trusts Santana with her life and Santana wouldn't do something unless it was necessary. She doesn't have many friends so she Isn't certain if this the norm, but she is certain that when Santana's lips brush hesitantly against hers again, everything else just sort of fades away.
It's cliche, but when Santana's lips touch hers the second time, Quinn forgets about empty dinner tables and about fathers who are never pleased. She forgets about countless wine bottles and grandmothers who keep calling her Judy.
She just forgets and it's nice and she thinks that sometimes it's just easier to forget than it is to remember.
It isn't until hours later when her lips are tingling that Quinn decides she's lucky to have Santana in her life, even if she's Quinn's only real friend.
Her mother had tons and tons of half friends. The type of friends who filled her time between boredom and plans, youth and adulthood, this and that. Friends that don't have longevity or compassion but they have time. And now that Quinn thinks about it, her mom really only ended up alone.
So Quinn takes solace in the fact that she has one good-nay, one great- friend. Santana feels like her one redemption in this shithole of a town and even though she makes Quinn confused, even though Quinn doesn't really understand what's happening, she feels insanely lucky to have her.
They kiss frequently over the next few months, and with more intent. Santana keeps saying that she's just trying to prepare Quinn, that she just wants Quinn to be safe and okay, and that Santana is still with Puck and that these kisses don't mean anything. Santana says that it's practice or how to make a guy feel good.
But then Santana pushes Quinn against the bathroom stall and kisses her breath away, until there's no more air in Quinn's lungs and the only thing she can breathe and feel and see is Santana.
It doesn't feel like practice, Quinn thinks, it only feels like love.
"I don't get it," Quinn says one day, "why can't you just break up with Puck. I mean, you don't even like him."
They're in Santana's room cooling off after a rough Cheerio's practice when Quinn brings it up. She's tired of making out behind closed doors while Puck gets to kiss Santana whenever he wants. She's treading dangerous territory, she knows that, but it's getting harder and harder to not claim what she feels like is hers.
Santana stared at Quinn seriously before rolling her eyes. "He's good in bed."
"Oh," Quinn says, as if that answers everything. "Okay."
"Santana?" Quinn asks after a particularly heavy make-out session. Quinn's in her bra and cheerio skirt and Santana's still fully dressed, her hair is in a sloppy ponytail though and she looks happy.
It's times like these where Quinn thinks she could do this forever, be here forever.
She watched as her mother took less than what she deserved and resigned herself to a life that clearly made her unhappy, just because she was terrified of being alone. Quinn didn't really get it until now, because even if she has to keep whatever this is a secret, even if she doesn't know what's happening between them and even if Santana never tells her, she could spend the rest of her life here...as long as Santana looked that way forever.
"Yeah?" Santana asks, her voice husky in a way that makes Quinn's stomach clench.
Quinn wants to say it. She wants to say what's been on the tip of her tongue since the day last summer, even before she knew what it was. She wants to say it but she can't bring herself to spill the words.
Quinn learned life lessons in the silence after alcohol. Regardless of her fathers selfish ways and her mother's alcoholic tendencies, Quinn often pardoned them, because they were kids once too. She likes to believe that they weren't always like they were now.
She wants Santana to pardon her, too, for saying what it is she wants to say. But she doesn't think Santana will, so instead Quinn smiles mischievously and removes her bra top because at least that's a language that Santana will understand.
"Come here and kiss me."
Quinn isn't anything other than thrilled when Santana obliges.
It happens a few weeks later because Santana is nestled between her legs and they both don't have tops on and Quinn just can't take it anymore. She doesn't care if it's practice or fucking, as long as Santana's touching her where it counts.
"Touch me," Quinn demands when Santana's teeth nip against her neck. "Now."
Santana lifts her head up so that she can see Quinn's face. Santana's cheeks are red and her skin is literally glowing and Quinn just wants all of her, everywhere.
Santana licks her lips and kisses Quinn's forehead. "You're so beautiful."
"Okay," Quinn says, not really caring.
"No," Santana disagrees. She frowns and looks away, like she can't say it if she knows Quinn is looking at her. "Listen. You're...perfect. To me. You always have been."
Quinn's heart doesn't melt, it seizes and completely stops, only for it to start pumping in a completely different way.
When Santana touches her, her skin doesn't burn or tingle or do any of those things that girls always talk about. Instead, when Santana's fingers touch Quinn, she feels alive. And when Santana's finger pushes inside of Quinn, it's hard for Quinn not to clench down to keep it there forever-to keep her dreams and desires, to keep Santana forever.
Santana continues to touch Quinn because she says it's better this way, Quinn let's Santana touch her because she's curious. But mostly because she can't imagine not giving all of herself to Santana.
Santana's always been a storm to be reckoned with and Quinn has always been perfectly fine with getting swept up in her.
Santana pushed another finger inside of Quinn and this time she does clench, because it hurts at the same time that it feels good, and she doesn't really know what to do anymore. This is crossing lines and crossing barriers and Quinn just doesn't know, she just doesn't know anymore.
Santana exhales shakily. "You okay?"
Quinn nods. She's uncomfortable, but she's okay.
Santana licks her lips. "I'm gonna move your leg over my shoulder, okay? It'll feel better."
Quinn nods again as Santana lifts her right leg to give her fingers better access. It's awkward and probably not as sexy as it could be, but it's okay. Santana leans down and kisses Quinn again as she slowly pulls out her fingers and thrusts them back in, Santana's body moving with her fingers.
Quinn wraps her arms around Santana's shoulders because she doesn't know where else to put them and she doesn't want to look ridiculous, especially if Santana recalls this memory later.
All coherent thoughts go out the window when Santana thrusts again. It feels good and soon Santana is setting a pace that's kinda awkward and kinda sloppy, but that feels way too good to ever stop.
Quinn is making weird noises she never thought she would make. Something between a grunt and a sigh, and she can't physically stop herself when her fingernails dig into Santana's shoulder as she chants, "don't stop, please don't stop."
Santana shook her head and closed her eyes, "never," she whispered. "Never."
It's intimate in the only way they haven't been but that's okay because Quinn feels perfect and Santana looks perfect and her fingers are perfect and when she thrusts in particularly hard, Quinn comes apart, and even that's perfect.
She doesn't mean to say it or to grab Santana's hand to hold her in place when she tries to pull her fingers out. It's just that Quinn's thoughts are a mess and she keeps thinking about how Frannie was always perfect y herself and Quinn's only ever been perfect with Santana, because she was perfect for Santana, and maybe it makes sense. Maybe it doesn't. All she knows is that she holds Santana in place and whispers, "I love you."
Santana doesn't say anything back. To her benefit, the 'i love you' could have gone either way: as a friend or as a lover. Instead Santana kiss Quinn's neck and pulls her fingers out, her lips trailing down her collarbone to the valley in between her breasts, to her navel, to her pelvic bone, and finally to the place Santana's fingers were just at. It doesn't take Quinn very long to come undone a second time, or a third.
When it's all over and done with and Santana has sated whatever desire she had been overcome with earlier, Santana grabs Quinn and holds her close. Santana's mouth behind Quinn's ear and her legs intertwined with Quinn's.
"I just..." Santana trails off while Quinn is drifting in and out of consciousness, her arm tightening possessively around Quinn's waist. "I just don't want anyone to ever hurt you."
It's clear to Quinn that Santana can't see how she already has.
The summer before their Senior year, this girl Brittany changes everything.
Quinn isn't even sure how Santana met the blonde before she transferred to McKinley, but she overhears something about a rival glee club. It doesn't make sense though because Santana would tell her about that. They didn't have secrets.
Well, not until Brittany.
It hits her out of nowhere, and hard. She doesn't know much about Brittany, all she knows is that one week Santana is there with her and the next week Santana's dumping Puck and traipsing through the hallways, her pinky linked with Brittany's.
Santana doesn't even warn her, she just looks at Quinn and shrugs, as if it was to be expected. As if they hadn't spent the past three months fucking in every god known place. As if Quinn hadn't just told Santana that she was in love with her, that she wanted Santana, that she needed Santana.
Never mind the fact that she hates Brittany, because she honestly does. Brittany with her quick movements and stupid questions and pretty smile. She doesn't see what drew Santana to such a dumb, useless girl. Brittany tries to be nice to Quinn, tries to invite Quinn out with them, but Quinn can't handle it. She can't watch Santana with Brittany, she can't be around it. So she distances herself.
It hurts, but not because Santana had been deceiving her. It hurts in other ways, worse ways, because Santana's willing to be so open and so free with Brittany in all the ways that she demand Quinn be secretive with her.
They've been each other's number ones for as long as Quinn can remember, so it's really hard to accept the fact that she's now Santana's number two. It doesn't matter what happened or what she did in the following months after Brittany's transfer, because no matter what Quinn did and no matter how hard she tried, she wasn't Santana's first choice anymore.
She's spent so much time planning her future around them being a duo that her mind can't even begin to comprehend that they're more of trio now.
Best friends are tricky things because Quinn went all in with the assumption that their friendship would last forever due to loyalty, love, common denominators, etc. Only for their friendship to be torn apart by something as simple as someone else. Someone who isn't Quinn. And maybe that's why it gets to her, maybe that's why it hurts, maybe that's why she cares, Because none of it is Quinn.
Quinn wants to scream at Santana, she wants to yell that Santana had made a promise, but she was too tired. Instead she sat back and waited, hoping that someday soon Santana would find her way back to her.
The last few months of her Senior year held a few life changing moments for Quinn:
The first being that she got into Yale.
The second being that she met and befriended the wonderful Rachel Berry (who years later, would turn out to be her Godsend).
The third being that Frannie came home.
The fourth and final thing (what led to everything else) was her grandmother's funeral
Her grandmother passes away three weeks before graduation, and even though Santana is barely around anymore, Quinn still expects her to be there for her.
Santana isn't. Not even on the day of grandma Lucy's funeral.
She sends Quinn a text saying, "I already promised Britt we'd go to the lake. Sorry."
It's the last straw in a friendship that has been breaking for months. Quinn needed Santana to be there and Santana just wasn't and Quinn doesn't know how to do any of this without her, but now she's going to have to try.
She doesn't know what do or even what to say to her mother. She's never had to console somebody twice her age. She doesn't know why but that makes it worse, somehow. Like, all the things she could or will say will never be enough for someone who has lived-and seen-more than Quinn's mind could comprehend.
She tries, of course, but her words fall on deaf ears. Her mother just continues to stare blankly ahead and all Quinn can think during the funeral is that it's much better to grieve in private.
So she will. For Santana and for her grandmother.
Her grandmother used to say that falling in love was the bravest thing you could ever do. Quinn doesn't know if she understands what her grandma meant, because she's been best friends with Santana Lopez for as long as she can remember. And Quinn Fabray has been in love with Santana Lopez for almost as long, she just didn't know it.
"Sometimes you meet them, sometimes you keep them, and sometimes you let them go."