Absolution

We could have had everything.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately. Somewhat AUish, assumes the girls had more contact after high school than they did in canon, essentially disregards events of Season 5.

…..

You have no idea what you're doing here.

It's the "after-party" of your five year high school reunion, which has been, thus far, a pathetic attempt to recreate the glee cast parties your old group of friends used to have. It's made even more ridiculous by the addition of alcohol, though in truth you're incredibly grateful for the salve it offers your battered social conscience.

You've spent the better part of the past hour trying to ignore Rachel. She's doing a pretty good job of doing the same, speaking quietly in the corner with Tina and Mercedes. A congregation of married people. Rachel doesn't have a glass of wine in her hand like the others, the implication of which is not lost on you. You feel bile rise in your throat and you take another sip of your drink.

When Sam and Puck crash drunkenly through the foosball table you decide you've had enough. You retreat to the kitchen and are relieved to find it empty. Unfortunately it doesn't last long; you hear the door open as you're reaching for a cup above the sink. Suddenly you feel someone directly behind you and the hair on the back of your neck rises as they reach around you for a cup of their own.

"Why are you so sad?"

Her voice sounds like a goddamn hallelujah chorus and you hate yourself for even thinking that. You don't turn around, instead sliding out from under her and filling your cup in the sink.

"Excuse me?" You're feeling a little bitter about her inquiry, so personal, as if she still has the right to know, and it comes across in your tone. You see her shrug dispassionately out of the corner of your eye.

"Just don't want to be getting another one of those calls."

It doesn't take long to bring to mind the drunken phone call you made to Rachel in your freshman year of college, after your friendship had disintegrated. You're suddenly very angry.

"Are you kidding me? That was years ago. I think I've grown up a bit since then." You whirl around to face her and she's smirking at you, challenging you. You suddenly realize your error. "And even if I were sad, why the hell would you think it was about you?"

Her demeanor shifts slightly and a shadow of sadness, of remembrance, reflects in the downturn of her lips and frown lines around her eyes.

"Because it always was before."

You tense and turn to walk away from her. "Yeah, well… things have changed."

She smiles sadly and you almost don't hear her reply. "I don't think you've changed that much."

You freeze momentarily despite your effort not to and she knows you're hooked.

"And how would you know that?" You spin around, shoulders set and hands on your hips.

Rachel smiles and says simply, "Because I know you."

"You don't know anything about me." You enunciate each word clearly, pointedly, and you expect her to retreat. You're surprised when she doesn't.

"Oh yeah? What don't I know about you?"

You stare at her, hardly believing the conversation. The gall she has to assume that nothing's changed, that you're the same person you were then.

"You don't know the real reason we fell apart."

You can tell it's not what she's expecting you to say. She pauses. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"What I told you was a lie. I didn't realize it at the time, but it was."

She's intrigued now and she takes a step towards you, bridging the expanse that lies between you. There's silence, a long pause, as she watches you.

"Please tell me." Her voice is gentle, imploring and soon she's standing right in front of you. Her gaze searches for the truth as it locks with yours.

You scoff and turn away. "Why does it matter?"

She grabs your hand, anchoring you there. "Please, Quinn. Don't you think I deserve the truth?" You look at her for a long moment, saying nothing. She drops her gaze and fiddles with the hem of her shirt. "It didn't make sense, what happened between us. I could never figure it out, why you suddenly stopped talking to me. Being "busy"—that just didn't add up. I wracked my brains for months, and all I could come up with was that you got sick of me. If there was some other reason…" Her voice is so soft and broken and it kills you. Shit. You take a deep breath.

"Oh God no, Rach. That wasn't it at all. I'm so sorry I made you think that. I should have handled that so much better, but at the time, I didn't know any other way to deal with what was happening except to not see you at all. I didn't even figure everything out, the real reason, until much later."

Her eyes are alight with curiosity and she's clinging to your words. You feel surreal, like this isn't actually happening. It probably shouldn't be, in all honesty. You forge ahead anyway.

"I couldn't talk to you—I was so angry with you." You pause. You can barely whisper the next few words, aware of their potential to break you all over again. "I was angry, all the time, because you chose Finn over me."

Rachel stills. Your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear the blood it propels rocketing through your ears.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't understand…," she trails off. You drop your gaze to your hands and fidget with your ring. After a moment, she links her pinky with yours and you gasp softly, glancing quickly to her face. You can't look away from her as you whisper the words you've been dying to say for five years.

"Rachel, I am in love with you. When you chose Finn over me… it broke my heart."

…..

It feels like a million years pass as you watch myriad emotions flicker across her face. As more time passes without her response, you drop your eyes to the floor and pull away.

"I'm sorry, Rach," you whisper, turning to leave. You only manage a few steps before she grabs your arm.

"Like hell you're leaving after telling me something like that." The ferocity in her voice startles you and you glance quickly to her face. You're shocked to see pain written so clearly there, outlined in the set of her jaw and the hardness of her eyes. Her grip on your wrist tightens as she stares at you, to the point where it starts to hurt. You don't comment because you know you deserve it. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she finally asks, and your defenses rise instantly. You wrench free of her hold and back away. Rachel realizes her mistake and grasps both of your hands to stop you.

"I'm sorry, that came out poorly." Her eyes soften and you relax slightly. "What I meant was, why would you wait all this time to tell me?"

"Like I said, it took me a few years to figure it out. I was so deeply in denial in high school, I didn't even realize how I felt. You know my family… they weren't like yours. I wasn't able to figure myself out." You laugh to yourself. "Hell, I slept with a girl, twice, before I actually began to admit anything to myself. My family still doesn't really know."

"You've slept with a girl?" You're a bit taken aback by the inquiry. You nod, looking warily at her. Her mouth drops open slightly and you must be imagining the flash of her eyes and the way she clenches her teeth. "Do I know her?"

Okay, now you're really confused. "Yes… it was Santana. Anyway, I don't really think my dating history is relevant here…"

Rachel drops your hands. "I knew it," she mumbles, mostly to herself. You can't figure out why she's stuck on this.

"I'm confused, Rach. My dating girls," you notice her flinch at your use of the plural, "not telling you about how I felt, it doesn't matter… it doesn't change anything. It wouldn't have changed anything then."

Rachel steps away from you abruptly, turning to face the sink. You wait a moment and then approach her. When you rest your hand tentatively on her back, you realize she's shaking. Alarmed, you try to get her to face you, which she does begrudgingly after a minute, and you realize she's crying.

You don't know what to say, so you wait, your hand coming to rub circles along her spine without your awareness. She chuckles suddenly, the sound choked by a half-sob that bubbles up her throat, and curls into herself, crossing her arms protectively over her stomach. "It would have changed everything."

Your heart starts to race and you can't catch your breath. "What do you mean?" The words tumble rapidly out of your mouth. You're hanging, desperately, on every word now. You understand the implication, but you need to hear her say it.

The silence stretches so long that you feel compelled to fill it. "I mean, you're married now…"

Rachel laughs harshly and finally meets your eyes. "Yeah, I'm married. To the wrong person."

…..

It feels like the world has tilted on its axis, and you're struggling to hold on. Shocked, you remain silent for a long time. When you're finally able to form words, your voice reflects more vulnerability than you've felt in years. "Did you—did you know when we were friends?"

Rachel ducks her head in affirmation, avoiding your gaze, and your chest clenches. "Damn it, Rachel," you whisper softly, "why didn't you tell me?"

Anger flares in her eyes as they snap to meet yours. "I tried! I gave you so many clues, so many hints, but you just did NOT get it. All you'd ever say is how we weren't together, and you'd be so uncomfortable whenever anyone would bring it up. How the hell was I supposed to react to that?" All you can do is stare at her, open-mouthed. Your silence seems to infuriate her further. "Well?!" she demands. "Say something, damn it!"

You meet her gaze, taking her hands gently in yours. The action seems to calm her. "Rachel," you begin, checking to ensure she's looking at you, listening to you. "I am so sorry. I can't even express how sorry I am. I was so lost then, and scared—I didn't know what to do. I wouldn't even let myself entertain the possibility, and even after Santana, it took me so long…"

Rachel covers her mouth with her hand and closes her eyes, though not quickly enough to stem the tears that had gathered there. "I can't believe it. Santana, she-," Rachel's voice breaks, "she stole my chance."

"Oh, Rach, no," you murmur, moving to embrace her, to let your touch apologize to her better than your words ever could, but a loud thump outside the kitchen door stops you. The two of you spring apart, breathing harshly. Rachel looks at you for a long moment and heads to check outside the door. You follow and halt abruptly when you hear what she says.

"Oh, shit… Finn… what did you hear?"

You can't help but press your ear against the door. There's a pregnant pause and you can only imagine the look on Finn's face. Despite your rocky history, and his many shortcomings, he doesn't deserve this.

You hear him sigh and it isn't angry, just sad.

"Nothing I didn't already know."

You close your eyes against the guilt. A moment later, you hear footsteps and Rachel's attempt to stop him from leaving, and the pain in her voice makes you wish you never opened your mouth.

You're leaning against the counter when Rachel re-enters the kitchen and you look up, your chest aching when she refuses to meet your eyes. You start towards her and she freezes, shaking her head and shielding her body from you.

"Don't." It's not so much a warning as a plea.

Your hands drop to your side and you lean once again against the counter, tears sparking at the corners of your eyes.

A moment's silence, and then, "You ruin everything."

You drop your gaze to the floor. You have no rebuttal to that, because you know it's true.

"I know. I'm so sorry."

The silence that falls then is heavy and tense. You trace the pattern of the tiles with your shoe until you feel the weight of her gaze finally settle on you. Suddenly she's standing in front of you, tucking her fingers under your chin and bringing your eyes to hers.

"And you know the worst part?"

You wait. Her fingers slip from under your chin to cradling your cheek, and you close your eyes, turning your face into her hand and sighing at the familiar touch. Your hand comes to cover hers on its own volition and your fingers instantly intertwine.

"The worst part is that this, us, still feels like coming home. Even after all this time." She takes a quick breath and you open your eyes to see the tears that linger in hers. You untangle your fingers and wipe a stray tear away with your thumb. She chokes on the sob that comes then and your hands fall easily to her waist, drawing her close to you. The familiarity of the embrace, the feeling of her curling into you just like before, has you splintering and soon you're the one having to pull away. You turn towards the window, your back to her, and try to regain your composure.

She gives you a moment before turning you back around, and then she's kissing you, sweet and soft, pouring five years of everything into the whisper of her breath against your lips.

"You ruin everything."

"I know," you concede. "I know. But Rach…" you pause for a moment, making sure she's listening to you, really seeing you, perhaps for the first time. "I love you so much."

When she says it back, it feels like absolution.

…..

AN: This may seem slightly AU in parts because it is based upon a relationship in my life that disintegrated because of something stupid I did. If everything were perfect, this is how I would hope to repair it. I'm thinking of writing a prequel to explain the back story/their history in this 'verse, one based upon my own experience. Thoughts?