A fill for Lima Designs "Somebody Fic This" prompts.
The notes cards are ready to go in her pocket and as she crosses Rachel's driveway she recites her speech to herself. Ideally she won't have to read off of her carefully penned notes, but being prepared helps bolster the courage she needs to pull this off without a hitch.
She stands on the porch in the balmy, late summer air and wills herself not to sweat as her finger hovers over the doorbell. It's not too late. She can still climb back into her car, drive back home, and go to bed early so she can be awake and alert for her 7 am flight to Connecticut tomorrow.
No. That's not an option. If she leaves now without saying what's been weighing on her heart for so long she won't be able to sleep, let alone leave Ohio. She has to ring the bell.
Her finger rests lightly on the button and she can hear the chimes ringing through the Berry's house. She watches through the window as one of Rachel's dads walks towards the door and she's sure she's having a heart attack.
"Quinn, what a surprise! We're just sitting down to dessert. Leroy made his world famous blueberry crumble. Would you like to join us? "
She shakes her head. "No, no thank you." Her mouth is dry and her hands are shaking. Hearing Finn's laugh echoing from inside doesn't help. "But could I…I need to talk to Rachel, please."
"Honey, are you all right? You look flushed." Hiram looks genuinely concerned, and Quinn smiles to reassure him.
"I'm fine, thanks. I just have something for Rachel that I'd like to give her before I leave tomorrow."
He nods and signals for her to wait a moment before disappearing inside the house. Within a minute Rachel is standing at the front door looking confused, but not unhappy.
"Quinn, come in! Dads and Finn and I are just having a little celebration before we leave for New York this weekend and—"
"I can't stay," she interrupts, "but I…I just have something to say."
"You didn't have to come all the way over here, silly. You have my phone number." Rachel laughs at her own joke and Quinn feels the corners of her own mouth lifting, even as she curses herself for the awkward situation she's about to create.
"It's important, Rach."
Rachel's expression shifts and the air feels thicker and the seriousness of the moment is clear.
"Do you want me to..." she motions towards the door and Quinn nods. Rachel shuts it behind her and suddenly it's just the two of them on the porch, alone among the humming of cicadas and the smell of freshly cut grass.
"I'm leaving for New Haven tomorrow," she starts, looking at her shoes, "but before I go there are just a few things that I need you to know."
"Oh—okay," Rachel says uncertainly, but Quinn continues.
"I know we've had our ups and downs and I know that it took me far too long to give you the respect that you deserve. I should never have been so awful to you and I…I think you understand now that so much of how I treated you had to do with how much I hated who I was."
"Quinn, we've talked about this. It's—"
"Please, let me finish." She has to start again. She lost her place. "How much I hated who I was…and part of it, Rachel, was because of how much I hated who I was afraid I might be. You…you have no idea the effect you have on people and…God."
She should have just done this like in Love Actually with the posterboard and the pictures and the music. She could have just held her feelings in front of herself and skipped this. She hates the awkward shakiness of her voice and the lump that's forming in her throat. Posters or a letter would have been so much easier. She had considered, it, but it didn't seem as honest. She needs to say the words.
"You've seen me at my worst and have always, without reason, supported me. You were there every time I truly needed someone, and I should have let you in. You've always been truthful and honest, even if it occasionally gets you in trouble, so tonight I've decided to take a page out of your book."
"I don't think I understand…"
She wipes her palms on her shorts and takes an unsteady breath. It's now or never, Fabray, she thinks.
She remembers being seven years old with her sister at a water park. They had climbed up what felt like a hundred stairs to reach the top of one of the park's leading attractions. A long series of tubes that twisted in and out and around the perimeter before spitting the rider out into a pool of deep water. When Quinn had reached the top of the slide, the urge to skip back down those same steps was overwhelming. But the line behind her was long and bigger kids were blocking her way and her sister wouldn't walk her down. The lifeguard ushered her forward and made her sit at the mouth of the slide.
"Just go, kid," he had said. "People are waiting."
What she remembers from that moment is the complete and utter loss of power she felt then. There was no other option but to face her fear and plunge into that dark unknown. She feels that same anxious rolling in her stomach. She's come to far not to say it now. She has to close her eyes and let go.
"Just…if I don't ever see you again, I need you to know that I love you, Rachel." Once she starts, she can't stop. "I love you like I've never loved anyone. If I could do it all over, every moment since the first time I heard you sing, I would have told you so much sooner so that maybe, I could have a chance."
Rachel is silent, but her eyes are wide and her mouth has formed a small, perfectly round 'o'. Quinn knows she should stop. This is where her planned speech ends, but the words keep coming.
"And I don't think I'm the only one on this porch with feelings she can't explain, because I've seen the way you look at me, Rachel, and I know you feel it, too. You feel something for me, or at least you did. I understand that you're engaged to Finn, and while I think it's ludicrous that you would commit yourself so young to someone who is just so…who just doesn't…who has no idea what you're worth, I want you to be happy. If that really means marrying Finn Hudson, then I wish you the best and I truly hope he loves you as well as you deserve, but if it doesn't, I want you to know that there is someone only 80 miles up the east coast who would kill for the chance to make you happy."
"Quinn…"
"You…you don't have to say anything. I know it's a lot to hear." The truth is that she's dying for a response and if Rachel doesn't say anything, then this whole effort has been fruitless. "I'm so sorry-"
But Rachel has already passed back through the door and Quinn is on the porch, alone and dejected and so, so stupid. She turns and walks across the lawn and feels the cool, damp grass against her ankles. Of everything she's done over the course of the last four years, this is the most selfish, the most self-serving, and the least considerate. What did she expect? That Rachel would end her engagement on the spot and run away with Quinn on a whim?
She's almost to her car when she hears Rachel call her name and it's instinct, rather than desire, that forces her to turn on her heel and catch sight of Rachel on the steps. She's running towards Quinn with a box and an envelope in her hand. As she gets closer Quinn can see the tracks that tears have left on her cheeks.
"Take these," Rachel demands. "And read the letter."
"When?"
"Now. Right now."
She rips open the envelope and pages and pages of Rachel's surprisingly messy handwriting are stuffed in tight.
"Rach, it's dark out here. Can you give me the Cliffnotes?"
"It's just…it says that…it says that I love you, too." Quinn hears the tightness in her voice and the tremor behind her words. "And that I've felt something for you, deep and terrifying, for the last three years, and that I've ended my relationship with Finn-of course, I was going to send this after I actually had and the plan is to do so tonight, but you're here now and with everything you've said it felt like the right moment and—" and she's crying, really crying. It's contagious and the impenetrable Quinn Fabray feels tears pricking the corners of her own eyes. "It's you, Quinn. It's always been you."
"Come here," she murmurs as she wraps her arms around Rachel's small shoulders. Rachel looks up at her, her dark eyes shining in the moonlight under the blanket of stars overhead.
Tomorrow she'll be on a plane reading and rereading Rachel's letter and sifting through the box of what must be at least forty unsent letters and wondering how they're going to make this work while Rachel gently breaks the news to Finn that they're relationship has come to an end. But now, in the simple, soft darkness of this warm night, there is only this closeness of her hands on Rachel's waist and the quiet wonder of this new beginning.
As always, my three favorite words are "I liked this" (unless you don't-in that case I will also accept "I hate this). ;)