What Difference Does It Make?
Why is he asking me this? I'm giving her up.
What difference does it make?
Every time that particular thought entered Quinn's mind, it felt like a small animal with sharp claws was scratching away at her heart with the sole intention of ripping it from her body. The feeling hadn't gotten any easier either. Not yet, at least.
She could feel liquid burning at her eyes as realisation hit her that this was only the beginning. She hadn't even had the baby yet and she felt this helpless about giving her away. What the hell was it going to feel like after she had given her daughter up?
Oh My God. I really can't do this. I'm not strong enough.
Fabrays, she'd been taught, were always supposed to stand strong and proud and never show any sign of weakness. She'd often wondered in the last few months where the hell she'd gone wrong to fuck up her life and let down her family in such a spectacular fashion.
Don't you dare cry, Fabray. You don't show weakness. You've been doing too much of that recently. Weakness is what got you in this damn mess in the first place.
Having the intention not to cry and actually succeeding are apparently two very different things. Even mustering up every ounce of will she had in her and taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself couldn't prevent the solitary tear that rolled down her face.
Way to go Quinn! So not only are you weak, you can't control your body either. Maybe he was right when he threw you out the house.
Get it together! If your father could see you now you would be proving him right.
Oh god. Puck. He's looking at you with that pleading look he does. The one you can't resist. The one that made you give him your virginity and let him take your self-respect. Fuck it! He can name her Jackie fucking Daniels for all I care. It's bound to be changed anyway.
What difference does it make?
She nodded her head, affirming to him that he could call their daughter whatever the hell he wanted. She didn't feel that she deserved the right to name her child anyway.
Please, someone give me strength. I can't break down. One more tear and I won't be able to stop. If I break down now, I don't think I can put the pieces back together on my own.
Just as she thought the last of her resolve was evaporating from her body, as if her silent prayer had been answered, a hand landed softly on her bare right shoulder and gently squeezed, the thumb grazing backwards and forwards across her skin.
Thank you! Whoever you are. Thank you.
She looked up towards the heavens as she blinked back those threatening tears. The ones she had barely managed to hold in their hidden prison of her eyes from making their visible escape down her cheeks. That comforting hand had arrived just in time to allow her to dig down into her soul a tiny bit deeper, to find her last reserve of strength and prevent those tears from making their watery tracks on her skin.
Santana...you are my saviour right now.
They'd had their ups and downs, and Santana could be one hell of a bitch (Quinn would be a hypocrite if she held that against her), but she knew she had her back. Admittedly, public displays of affection, or any form of touching for that matter, to anyone other than Brittany was a bit out of character for Santana.
Normally she only touched people when she was trying to start a fight – nobody believed the self defence line anymore – or if she was trying extra hard to hit on someone. Quinn realised that Santana really must be an angel sent from heaven, not only to notice that she needed someone so badly at that moment, but to step out of her comfort zone in order to be that person.
Feeling relieved by this knowledge and being slightly more confident that the tears would not threaten again, she hooked the hair that had fallen onto her face, back behind her ear carefully avoiding the eyelashes that she was amazed were still attached.
Stupid pink feather eyelashes Kurt made me wear. Who cares if it's not totally authentic without them? Lady Gaga isn't gonna walk in here and see. They are a right pain in my ass and I could do without it right now.
What difference does it make?
She heard Brittany giggle at the same time her peripheral vision was cleared, and looked over at her. Santana had turned to face Brittany behind her, and was running her hand over her knee and tracing patterns up her thigh.
Those two need to get a room.
Shit! If S is over there trying to get into B's pants, then who the fuck's hand is this on my shoulder? I knew she would never show me that much affection.
Quickly whipping her head round to see the owner of said comforting, emotional strength providing hand, she found her answer.
Why? Why does it have to be Berry? Of all the people, why?
"Quinn?"
Turning her gaze back around, and down to the floor in front of her, she could feel the warmth of Rachel's hand burning into her skin. She briefly wondered if it was possible to feel every tiny ridge of her fingerprints as her hand gently squeezed at her shoulder. She'd only ever fantasised about Rachel touching her in such a comforting manner.
-/-/-
Since that damn day that she would remember forever, when Rachel had interfered and revealed to Finn the true paternity of the baby, Quinn had noticed a change in the way Rachel's presence affected her.
How could someone who appeared – to an amateur – to be so obnoxious and selfish, actually be the complete opposite? Rachel would probably have ended up in a better position to pursue Finn if she'd avoided getting involved with the situation. She could have been there waiting with open arms when Finn, rejected and alone, decided to go running into them. Everyone knows how people like to shoot the messenger, and Finn would have been a prime suspect as the one holding the metaphorical gun. Rachel was threatening his relationship with Quinn by dropping the bombshell and risked sending him running for the hills or lashing out at her by doing it.
Quinn had given a lot of thought to Rachel's possible motives for putting herself in a situation that could've so easily backfired. She continued to draw a blank, but the closest possibility she could come up with was that it was in the best interests of Quinn herself. She kept dismissing the idea because it seemed so unlikely, but the thought kept pushing itself to the forefront of her mind. In a way, Rachel had done her a huge favour. Quinn had already acknowledged that she was way too chicken shit to tell him herself, so this way it prevented her from finding the courage to tell him, finding the words to do it and have to look at him as his heart was ripped from his body and drop kicked against the nearest wall.
This being the only conclusion she could come to, she realised that Rachel couldn't have been so self serving as she'd previously thought. The realisation didn't come without some hidden extras though.
Seeing the artist previously known as Manhands in a much less negative light made Quinn a lot more aware of her presence. She could always tell if she was in the same room as her. She would notice things like what type of shampoo she had used that morning. She knew how many teeth you could see when she did one of her dazzling smiles. She noticed the shadow that was cast on her lower legs when the spotlight hit her calf muscles as she sang a solo on stage. This new positive light was hell.
The next link in this chain reaction, to Quinn's absolute horror, was to wonder how those calf muscles would feel flexing into her back as she draped her leg over Quinn's shoulder. Or whether her hair would smell of raspberries or coconut when Quinn buried her face into the gorgeous soft skin of her neck to kiss it as she writhed beneath her whilst Quinn worked her fingers to bring Rachel to the best orgasm she'd ever had.
-/-/-
"Quinn? Are you OK?"
Oh my god. She really is touching you Fabray. This is not a fantasy. Don't show any sign that it is affecting you. She'll think you're a freak.
"Quinn?" Rachel squeezed her hand a bit tighter on her shoulder, trying to draw her attention.
My name sounds so good when she says it. I wonder how it would sound when she's screaming it as I... Shit. Turn around, Genius, before she wonders why you're ignoring her.
Quinn turned back around to face Rachel and the look of concern she was met with made her breath catch in her throat.
Choking on air. Smooth.
"Are you OK?"
She has the most beautiful eyes. I've never really looked at them this closely before. Sure, the passion in her eyes when I'm staring her down is hot, but this is something else.
She nodded. If her brain had lost function to a point where she couldn't even breathe properly, actually forming words didn't seem worth the effort.
Her mouth. What an amazing mouth. No wonder she can produce all those incredible sounds when she sings. Just look at it. I wonder what other sounds she can make, or what those lips would feel like on mine. They look so soft...
Speaking of mouths, how about you close yours, Horndog? You must look like you are trying to catch flies in there. Great, now she's looking at you like you told her Streisand died. Turn back around again so she stops looking like that.
Using the hand still on Quinn's shoulder to support her weight, Rachel leaned forward to whisper into her ear. Quinn wasn't expecting that. Rachel was not normally one for discretion, so why did she have to start now when her thoughts were on a one-way trip down to the gutter?
Why does she have to do this now? As if she's not already affecting me enough. Oh my god, it's so hot in here and if she doesn't get her hand off me she's gonna feel me starting to sweat.
She's so close. I can feel her breath on my face. Oh god, Rachel. I love you. Wait...what?
"Quinn, I think you should accompany me outside. I think you could use some air. Or we could go to the school nurse. Your body temperature seems to be well above the healthy upper range."
Just get up and go outside. How can you possibly make this worse for yourself. You're an emotional wreck and you're daydreaming about being in love with Rachel Berry. Even if she sees that you're a mess, how can it make your life any worse?
What difference does it make?
Admitting defeat she manoeuvred herself from the stool she was sitting on. No easy feat in her condition and wearing a dress that had its own structure.
"Mr. Schue? Quinn is obviously under some stress after Noah's emotional, if a little flat performance. She needs some air. I'm going to stay with her to ensure she is in a satisfactory condition to..."
"That's fine Rachel. I hope you feel better Quinn."
-/-/-
It had been an intense couple of minutes inside the head of Quinn Fabray since Puck finished the song, but the second she got out of the room and into the hallway, relief washed over her.
Thank god for that. I needed to get out of there. She realised it before I did. Oh god. Rachel. I can't look at her right now. She can't see me in this state.
Quinn hadn't realised that she was running until she heard Rachel calling down the hallway after her.
"Quinn! You and I need to talk!"
What the fuck does she mean by that? Just keep going Fabray and don't stop 'til you get to your car.
Apparently Rachel can run faster than a pregnant girl wearing scaffolding.
Just as the sunlight hit her retina's, Quinn was swung round by Rachel's hand grabbing her wrist, bringing them face to face, in the school parking lot.
"Why did you run, Quinn? I know that must've been incredibly emotional for you, but I thought you realised that I wanted to help you. You obviously needed someone to comfort you back there. Let me help you. You don't need to run away from me."
"I... Why would you want to comfort me, Manhands? I've been more than a bitch to you. Why aren't you enjoying seeing me get what's coming to me. I deserve it."
"You deserve it? Quinn, I know, we haven't seen eye to eye in the past but nobody deserves the emotional strain you must be dealing with at the moment."
Why is she being so nice to me? I wish she would stop looking at me like my puppy just died.
To avoid risking eye contact, Quinn dropped her head to look down to the floor.
"I just don't understand you, Rachel. You know if the roles were reversed, I'd be making your life even more miserable."
"Quinn. I think I have a fair idea of what's going on here. Your behaviour back in the choir room just now implied more than just emotional discomfort."
Why the hell can't she just talk like a normal teenager? Implied? Discomfort? Wait...my behaviour? Shit. I knew it was obvious. Way to go, Fabray. Your body betraying you AGAIN! Turn around so she can't see your face.
"See, Quinn. This is what I mean. You can't even look at me. You always look up when I enter a room but then avoid eye contact. You're not ordering as many slushie facials as you used to. You don't insult me as much as you used to. Your whole demeanour towards me has changed. And back in the choir room just now, you relaxed when I put my hand on your shoulder. You were staring into my eyes with the most intense look I've ever seen on anyone, and you looked like I was a meal you wanted to eat when you were staring at my mouth."
If only.
She knows. She knows I'm totally gay for her. I need the floor to open up right now and swallow me whole. She's definitely going to hate me now. Please, Rachel, leave me alone. So what if you've worked it out? What does it achieve? Nothing.
What difference does it make?
Get out of here, Loser. Just walk away from her. She hates you anyway. Get in your car and drive. Doesn't matter where to. Just go.
"Don't you dare walk away from me, Quinn!"
Whoa... Berry grew a backbone. Who knew she could stand up for herself like that to Quinn Fabray? Well there has to be a first time for everything, I guess.
Quinn stopped walking. Rachel walked around to face her and block her escape to her car.
"I've just told you that I've noticed you have a crush on me and you're walking away from me?! Shall I tell you some other things I notice, Quinn?
She's even hotter when she's angry.
"Everything I notice recently is something to do with you. How do you think I know that you look up from what you're doing when I walk into a room? Because you are the first thing I seek out when I enter a room. I notice that small frown you do when you can't get your hair to stay behind your ear. I notice the way you lick your lips when I'm singing on stage. I notice that when the baby kicks, you get a small smile on your face, but you let it disappear before anyone else sees. I notice your legs in that dress you have on right now! I notice things, Quinn! You can't go through life avoiding things that are painfully obvious!"
Wow. Hot! Wait...she notices my legs and when I lick my lips? Maybe I'm not the only one gay for a girl around here.
...She notices when the baby kicks? Nobody else has ever noticed that.
"Rachel, I... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry. You're too nice a person and I'm a total bitch and a complete failure. You don't deserve to have to deal with complicated emotional women and..."
"Quinn. Look at me."
She raised her eyes to Rachel's for the first time since they'd arrived outside. Her face had softened now and her eyes had gone back to looking like they were deep pools of molten chocolate instead of a looking like they'd contained a raging fire as they had seconds before.
"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a complicated and emotional woman myself."
The smile that graced Quinn's lips and the small chuckle she released at that was unexpected, to herself at least.
She just made you laugh. It wasn't even that funny, but she made you feel comfortable and relaxed enough to laugh.
"I know what you are going through is more serious than diva tantrums about not getting a solo, or the fact that the grocery store ran out of non-dairy ice cream, and I can't begin to know how hard this must all be for you, but I do think I can be there for you. You are going through some major changes at the moment. Did you know that pregnancy and moving house are two of the most stressful things you can do? You are doing both these things at the same time, even though the moving house part wasn't quite... I'm rambling aren't I?"
That was adorable. I've never heard her cut off a speech mid-way through. She even looked a bit self-conscious.
Without realising why, and before she had a chance to stop herself, Quinn's hand was on Rachel's arm, just above her elbow, gently reassuring her to continue what she'd been saying. Rachel gave her a small smile back and then looked down self-consciously.
Rachel Berry, self-conscious? I never thought that was possible.
"What I mean to say is that women, much older than you, with much more life experience struggle with what you are coping with right now. And most of them have some sort of support network. You can't do this on your own, Quinn. Well, I'm sure you could, you're a very strong woman..."
She is so cute.
Oh my god Fabray... you're smiling. What is with you today? I know pregnancy hormones give you mood swings but the past 5 minutes are enough to make anyone's head spin.
"...but you shouldn't have to do this alone. You don't deserve to be as unhappy as this. Let me be there for you. I can help, even if it's just for practical things like carrying your books at school, or getting the food you need when you are craving it. I'll even be there if you need a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold. Plus, I think that you and I have more in common than you think."
"What do we have in common?"
That was stupid. If she took that in the flirty way you meant it, (and if she heard how quiet and low your voice was just then how could she not?) then you're so about to be shot down! Don't say I didn't warn you.
Quinn's body and mind may as well have belonged to two different people at that moment. Her hand was still gently rubbing Rachel's arm and it was apparent that they were both well aware of its presence and effect. Quinn had moved slightly closer and Rachel was now looking directly into her eyes which made her feel like she was being enchanted by some sort of spell to keep her there forever.
"After all the things I told you I notice and the fact that you never denied any of it, I think you know."
OK. She didn't shoot you down (her voice sounded as quiet and low as yours) and she's moving even closer. What next? Shit. Run. No, stay. This could be a BIG mistake. Or it could be incredible. You better make your mind up quickly or you're not gonna have a choice in the matter.
Her lips look so soft. I've never wanted to kiss anyone as much as I do right now. I don't think I could stop this from happening even if I wanted to.
The hold that Rachel's eyes had on her was so intense, and the thought of Rachel's lips on hers was so distracting, that she couldn't tell how or when they'd moved so that there was only a couple of inches between their faces.
Fuck it. This is the best you've felt in months and considering how desperate you were for someone a few minutes ago... just let her in. This is Rachel Berry. She may have her faults but she's not a liar and she puts her all into everything she does. If she says she'll be there for you, she will. She's proved that by being here right now. Plus, if she got that annoyed about you walking away from her, then she must've really wanted you to hear all those things she said. Trust her. She won't let you down.
The small animal that Quinn thought was in clawing her heart out earlier, seemed to have burrowed down to somewhere around her stomach. She could feel a fluttering that she was sure wasn't her daughter and felt a bit similar to how she used to feel when she was little and her parents took her on the most amazing holidays. The anticipation and excitement she felt then was nothing compared to this though. Or maybe it had been so long, that she'd just forgotten the feeling.
She closed her eyes as she tilted her head forwards and her lips made contact with Rachel's.
WOW. Her lips really are as soft as they look. She tastes amazing. And she must be wearing vanilla lip balm. This feels so right...
She kissed her bottom lip, pulling it gently between her own lips and did the same to the top. It wasn't particularly passionate, or intense, it was just a relaxed, gentle kiss. Quinn realised Rachel was letting her control it and wondered if she really did have a sixth sense, especially when it came to what Quinn needed.
Even though it felt like something in her stomach was doing somersaults, her lips were tingling everywhere they were in contact with Rachel's and she wanted to carry on kissing her forever, she didn't want to rush this. She pulled back from the most amazing kiss she'd ever had and looked Rachel straight in the eyes again.
There's that dazzling smile again where I can see all her teeth. I love that smile!
Smiles are apparently infectious though, and Quinn found herself wearing an expression to rival it.
"That was more amazing than I'd imagined it would be. And I'm so glad you're smiling. I haven't seen you look like that in months. I was starting to wonder if I'd ever see it again. You know I can see all your teeth when you smile like that?"
Quinn just laughed at that and pulled Rachel into a hug with the smile that Rachel loved so much still adorning her face.
Looking back on the last ten minutes, she thought she might've been dreaming. She'd gone from sheer emotional desperation, to horny, to wanting to run as far from civilisation as was possible, to being incredibly happy. She had to question if it was a dream or some sort of paranoia based hallucination, but her senses were telling a different story. She could still taste Rachel's lip balm. She could smell the coconut shampoo in her hair as the summer breeze made it tickle her neck. She could hear Rachel whispering that everything was going to be okay into her ear. She could feel her own heart, and possibly Rachel's, pounding in her chest, and Rachel's arms around her waist. And she could see through her clouded eyes her own hand running up and down Rachel's back.
My God. Why didn't I realise this sooner? I could've saved a lot of people a lot of shit if I knew this would feel so right and she would feel the same. It really does feel like she's my angel. She gets me. Someone's gonna be there for me. She's not gonna let me down. I didn't realise how much I needed her. I knew I felt something, but never this. All the emotions, all the heartache, all the conflicts...
What difference does it make? It turns out, quite a lot.
