A/N: Hi there. So... my boyfriend and I were bored on Labor Day so we watched some Glee episodes he had on DVD. I was surprised he watched Glee, because I've never seen it before. I've heard of it, but never took the time to actually watch it. Turns out my boyfriend is an avid fan of Faberry (Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry, he informed me) because they remind him of me and the girl version of him... (I was shocked and immediately assumed he was on Molly... if you don't know what Molly is, good for you. It's bad stuff.). That's how I got into the whole 'Glee shipping' thing I guess you could say. Now this story came from my mind one sleepless night (last night) and I couldn't resist jotting it down. Please, please, please let me know what you think. For all the readers that are waiting for updates on my other stories, I will to deliver them to you asap.
Disclaimer: Honestly, if I owned anything besides a sometimes working and sometimes not car, I wouldn't be working at a grocery store.
Miss Purple Lips
Prologue
They only met outside at night, right before bedtime, when the air was so cold it stung their faces and created blotchy redness on their cheeks, or when warm breezes welcomed the firefly catching season in the summer. They cherished the sidewalks lining the street that separated their houses. That is where their nightly encounters often occurred.
For Lucy Fabray, it was an escape from overheated kitchens and an older sister's bossy attitude. For Rachel Berry, it was the best part of her day.
If anyone were to see them during their nighttime trysts, that person would automatically assume they were best friends or cousins. The way they whispered and held hands, sitting closely together on the sidewalk with never any space in between, and the way they laughed in each other's faces during the bitingly cold season with jokes nobody else could ever fathom understanding.
That passerby would look past the fact that Rachel Berry wreaked Jewish heritage with her prominent nose, big brown eyes, olive colored skin, and mocha chocolate hair. They would neglect to notice Lucy's sweet vanilla complexion, hazel eyes, and long stringy blonde hair. That passerby would see them as they saw each other—just Lucy and her Rachel.
Lima, Ohio had a small sleepy town feel where anyone out of the norm was harassed. Narrow one-way streets strung everybody together just like narrow minds made up the majority. There was no way not to know someone in Lima, Ohio. Your business was their business and their business was yours.
The late June sun catapulted in the sky one Sunday afternoon as ten year old Lucy waited on pins and needles for her companion. She was lying against the side of her house, out of breath with anticipation, when Rachel slipped out the back door and ran to meet her friend.
Lucy's face erupted into a huge smile. She immediately wrapped her arms around the smaller girl's body. When they parted, Lucy guided Rachel to sit down next to her with their backs toward the side of her house.
"I'm not supposed to be here," Lucy admitted, a sheepish red flashing onto her pale cheeks. "I'm grounded."
"You got grounded?" Rachel gasped. "What did you do?"
Lucy overdramatically peered around Rachel to make sure nobody was in earshot when she spilled the beans. When the coast was clear, she leaned in and Rachel followed suit. Once their faces were a mere centimeters apart, Lucy whispered, "I kissed a girl."
Rachel was at a loss for words when Lucy put her hands on the side of her face and wound her fingers into her hair. She had never been a puppet before but now she knows what it's like to be one. One tug in her hair made her eyes slip close, another tug and her breathing grew faster, by the third tug she forgot her name.
Lucy's lips were gentle and careful and soft and tasted just like warm sour lemonade. Rachel has never seen nice fireworks before—she didn't like the ones on the fourth of July, they reminded her of gunshots— but she's pretty sure she saw some really beautiful ones tonight.
Hot trickles of summer rain beat the tin roof of Leroy Berry's truck. He sat behind the steering wheel, watching it fall with glazed eyes as he waited in the parking lot of Lima Hospital for his partner and their daughter.
He wasn't allowed in Lima Hospital because he was a colored man. Being a gay man did not go well in his favor either.
They had jumped out a few minutes earlier and scurried into the main entrance of Lima Hospital. They went straight to the waiting room—a wide open space with rows of blue chairs, green wallpaper, and a colorful fish tank—to see the receptionist.
"My daughter, Rachel Berry, was here just last week. She has been experiencing shortness of breath and fainting worse since then," Hiram told the receptionist. "We need to see a doctor now."
His tone allowed room for no questioning and within a few minutes of waiting the receptionist called them to the exam room.
Rachel slipped out of her clothes, put on the white hospital gown, and sat down on the cold examine table. The doctor was a short chubby white man with graying hair, wide frame glasses, and a thick southern accent. When he walked into the room Hiram repeated what he said to the receptionist and obediently answered all of the doctor's questions.
The doctor flipped through Rachel's chart—marked to the brim with everything she's ever been treated for at Lima Hospital. Rachel nervously swung her dangling legs and held her father's big hand. She wished Lucy was here. Lucy would know what to say. Lucy always knew what to say.
The doctor checked Rachel with his stethoscope. It was cold against the hospital gown fabric and it made Rachel shiver. Not the good kind of shivers that Lucy gave her either, but the kind she experienced right before a well-earned butt whooping.
The doctor went over to his clipboard and wrote something down. "From what I have read here, and the symptoms she's experiencing now," he said, looking up at Hiram Berry, "I would say Rachel needs a heart transplant."
Hiram Berry looked grave with shock. He practically collapsed next to Rachel, his eyes looking but not seeing. "A heart transplant?" he stuttered.
"She was born with a hole in her heart—congenital heart defect—which is very common as you already know. With some people this has no effect in later years, while in others it can put a strong damper on blood circulation. That's why she's been having shortness of breath, chest pain, cold sweats at night, and—"
"We—I've been giving her the medications prescribed doctor. The ones you guys said were going to cure all of those things," Hiram interrupted hastily. "She eats healthy, she exercises, and she takes her daily pills. I can assure you of that. Nothing seems to be working. In fact, I'd say she is reacting worse with treatment."
The doctor paused and lowered his clipboard to a nearby table. He went over the Hiram Berry and looked at the man like he would want someone to look at him if his daughter was sick. He'd want support, he'd want options, but most of all, he'd want the truth and the best methods.
"Sir, your daughter has been put on a waiting as of last week."
Hiram frowned. "A waiting list for what?"
"Heart transplant surgery," the doctor continued. "Previous surgeries done weren't enough. Rachel needs a brand new heart." He paused, letting things sink in. Hiram looked ghostly pale and wary. "There are places to go where she might get help sooner. Places like Dallas Texas. They have a charitable program called the Ronald McDonald house where you and your family can stay while top doctors figure out the best route for your daughter. It's one of the best places to go."
They left Lima Hospital with pamphlets about the Ronald McDonald house and tears in their eyes but hope in their hearts. Rachel would get the help she needed if her fathers had anything to do about it.
It wasn't until four days later that Rachel got to see Lucy again. The beautiful blonde girl was waiting at their spot dutifully—leaning against the side of her house with a sour expression on her face—when Rachel snuck out of her house that night.
"Lucy?"
Lucy's head shot up and she almost ran Rachel over in her haste. "Rachel," she mumbled into Rachel's hair while they hugged. "I've missed you."
Rachel laughed to keep back tears. "I've missed you too Luce."
They pulled apart and Lucy gathered the smaller girl close to her side as they sat down, backs facing her house like always. Crickets chirped in the thick silence until Lucy just couldn't take it anymore. "Okay," she said, trying to look Rachel in the eye, "what's wrong. You've never been this quiet before without something being wrong."
Rachel didn't answer. She played with Lucy's fingers, keeping her eyes downcast.
"Was my kissing that bad?" Lucy asked shyly with a kicked-puppy expression. "I'm really sorry if it was Rachel. It's just— that was my first kiss and I didn't know what to do and I love you so I lied about being grounded because I didn't think you'd—"
Rachel kissed Lucy lightly on the cheek ultimately silencing her and causing a light flush that Lucy blamed on the summer heat. "I'm not mad. You're a great kisser Lucy."
Lucy smiled, pleased with herself, before frowning. "So what's the problem?" she asked, confused.
Rachel sat up fully, her body slightly angled away from Lucy. "My dad and I… well… we're moving," she sighed dejectedly. "To Dallas Texas."
Lucy felt the air close up around her throat. She felt like she was underwater and drowning with no one to help her. Not even Rachel. "You're moving?" she asked slowly, her eyes planted on their intertwined fingers.
"Yeah," Rachel breathed. "We're moving. I have a bad heart so I have to get a new one," she explained.
"I'll just give you mine!" Lucy said, eyes bright and smile full of straight white teeth. "That way you don't have to leave."
Rachel didn't doubt that. "That's a nice thought… but I want you to keep yours Luce. How are you gonna love me if you have no heart?"
"I'd find away," Lucy said, her voice full of conviction.
Rachel let a smile show on her face, mainly for Lucy's benefit. "I think my dads are pretty solid on their decision," she said sadly. "But I'll be back soon so don't you worry."
"How long you gonna be gone Rach?" Lucy asked brokenly, tears slipping out without her permission.
Rachel gently wiped them away with the pad of her thumb. "Don't cry Lucy," she said softly. "I won't be gone for long, I promise. I'll be back before you know it."
"When are you leaving?"
Rachel hesitated. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Lucy whimpered. "But-but… Rachel—"
"I'll write to you," Rachel said fervently, grabbing Lucy's hands and looking deep into her eyes. "I'll write to you every day as long as you promise to write me back."
"I'll write back." Lucy sniffed. "I promise I'll write back." She put out her pinky finger and intertwined it with Rachel's.
Rachel nodded with a sad smile. "Okay."
Rachel always viewed Lucy Fabray as a strong invincible girl that didn't let fear or sadness ever take permanent residence in her heart. When Lucy cried though—sobbing harshly into Rachel's blue plaid pajama shirt—Rachel knew she was just a girl with human emotions. A girl just like her.
Lucy kissed Rachel for the second time in her short life—her fingers tangled in Rachel's hair and tears rolling down her puffy cheeks—and Rachel tasted salty tears instead of sour lemonade on Lucy's lips.
What did you think? Good? Bad? Should I continue?