Timeline: I ignored about 90% of everything that happened after season three in this. Mainly because I didn't watch about 90% of anything after season three. The locations/settings are all the same, and I kept some NYADA nuggets and Kurt's internship because I'm pretty sure that's the only positive thing to ever happen to him. The only season four character additions I kept were the New York ones, but they're all tangential. Everything else does not exist in this divergence.
Part One
Santana Lopez. That's whose fault this all was. That's where all of this started. And with only six words.
Rachel Berry's summer had kicked off as Rachel Berry-Hudson. She had spent a week debating the hyphen before legally changing her name. It may have been selfish, but the second surname was usually dropped in celebrity life and as much as she loved Finn and their marriage, she had been dreaming far too long about seeing the words 'Rachel Berry' illuminated on bright marquees. Sometimes she still couldn't believe it. Married. It felt like a dream. She supposed, in a way, it was. To be fair, it was hardly the first event in her life that had felt more like a dream sequence than reality.
After graduation, Finn picked her up and they must have spent an hour just driving around together, listening to their favorite playlists. They were both nervous, and finally Finn pulled his truck over to make sure this is really what Rachel wanted to do. It wasn't meant to be an ultimatum. Finn never gave her one. He was content with agreeing to whatever it was Rachel chose. And she wanted to marry him. One day. But they were already engaged, and what would breaking an engagement entail? Surely that would be the end of them, and they had worked too hard to give up after everything. They loved each other. She wasn't sure why it mattered if they did this now or a few years from now. They were always going to end up in the same place.
They drove to the courthouse, and to Rachel's surprise, their parents and friends were all waiting for them. Finn shyly confessed that he had planned this all with Blaine just in case. She couldn't recall ever being prouder of him or loving him more. It was the same wedding they almost had months ago just in different attire. The only significant change was that Quinn had arrived safe and sound whereas Coach Sylvester was nowhere in sight. A trade Rachel would take every time. It may not have been the wedding she (and her dads) imagined having at the Plaza when she was a young girl, but it was real. She was marrying the love of her life. (Besides, they could just renew their vows at the Plaza on their twentieth wedding anniversary.)
Tearfully, Rachel and Finn swore their vows to each other. The glee club sang them "White Dress." Everyone returned to her home for a small reception. Then when they later left, the newlyweds had no idea what to do. They had not discussed sleeping arrangements. Living arrangements. She had just assumed that would come later, like at the start of the fall term. After an animated debate amongst the Hudson-Hummels and the Berrys, the Berry men won (of course), and it was decided that Finn would move in with them. So for the last two months they had been practicing living together by rooming as husband and wife in her fathers' basement. Rachel really couldn't wait to move to New York. New Directions' final summer party was admittedly a nice vacation from all this.
The gleeks chose to throw it during the first week in August. Timing wise it worked out perfectly. Mercedes's father had a dental conference scheduled in Las Vegas and was taking her mother on their own trip. Mercedes mentioned it to Brittany who told Santana who then told Puck, and the boy begged until Mercedes agreed to let them use her house. He had insisted that their group needed a party to unwind. Irish had recently moved back to Ireland which left a rebounded Sugar into over-pursuing Artie. Sam and Mercedes were still dealing with their mutual breakup, and in about three of weeks everyone would be moving away. So Mercedes caved.
Rachel was glad that she wasn't in charge of hosting this party like their last one. And she had to question why Mercedes wasn't automatically the go-to party thrower. Dentists apparently made good money. Maybe Finn could become a dentist. Her house was gorgeous. Sizable but not empty. There was an array of snacks and drinks on display in the newly remodeled kitchen. Only wanting to moderately become under the influence, she slowly sipped her first drink of the night as she gave herself and Finn a private tour. But that was about as pleasant as the night got.
Kurt and Blaine spent the next two hours discussing Kurt's future and what it meant for them. Tina and Mike made similar progress. Brittany and Santana avoided the talk completely. Santana instead seemed hell-bent on getting under Quinn's skin. Despite the happy occasion, the two had been fighting about something before they had even arrived. Rachel never could entirely figure out their relationship, and in hindsight, it probably would have been a good idea to keep them away from the alcohol. Having gotten tired of doing nothing more than straddle Artie's lap, Sugar shouted out the need for everyone to play Spin the Bottle. Rachel, Blaine, and Kurt all immediately protested while Santana immediately countered with Truth or Dare. Sugar could simply dare Artie to kiss her when the time came and was fine with this compromise.
Sam had to stick his face in Puck's armpit. Rachel had to tell everyone how often she and Finn had sex while her fathers were home. Blaine had to sing his least favorite song. Brittany had to put her leg behind her head. Flirting, Brittany then 'dared' her girlfriend to kiss her which regrettably gave Santana the opening she had wanted. With her turn she trapped Quinn. Whether she had decided truth or dare, it was obvious that Santana was going to demand an answer to the same question anyway. Rachel could admire Quinn meeting the challenge head on and swiftly selecting truth. It was then with her common, derisive lilt that Santana flipped everything upside down.
Who really won senior prom queen?
A familiar weight sat on Rachel's chest as the two former cheerios stared each other down. Neither blinked, and Santana took it upon herself to break the rules and answer her own question.
Brittany was the first to respond to the news, as carelessly as expected. "I totally knew that already."
"Fuck you, Santana." With a glare, Quinn stormed off toward the downstairs half-bath.
Santana was not at all fazed. "I thought you'd have someone else in mind!" she shouted after her, slurring with a cackle.
Most of the glee club (read: everyone) was then looking to Rachel for her reaction. For once she'd rather not have their attention on her. It was stifling, and she needed air.
"Excuse me."
Rachel collected herself and quickly got up to leave. She didn't have a plan and wound up on Mercedes's front porch. It was exactly what she needed, cricket sounds notwithstanding. Unfortunately, she was alone for only a few minutes before the front door was opening and closing behind her. She had expected that it would've been Finn to follow her outside. Maybe hoped that it would've been Quinn to come talk about everything. Instead, it was the one who started all of this that quietly joined her.
"Are you here to divulge more truths?" she asked as Santana came to stand next to her.
"Everyone thought I should apologize. I'm not sure what for, but you know, sorry."
"Your apologies need work," Rachel informed spitefully and headed down the Jones' front steps, having no idea where she was going just intent on getting somewhere.
"Fine. I'm sorry you're so sensitive and Quinn's so whipped. Better?" Santana followed down the steps after her, though her strides were less precise as she tried not to trip.
Rachel spun back around to face her once they were both back on solid ground. She was certain that equal footing would be paramount to this conversation. "You don't even care about what you just did or how hurtful it was."
"Hurtful? Okay, now I'm lost."
She paced in her steps and got back behind Santana in order to be closer to the house now. She wasn't sure which direction felt safer. This action only seemed to succeed in making Santana dizzy, though. Rachel couldn't be bothered to care. "I just had to sit there in front of all of our friends while you told them my prom queen win was fake. T-that you and Quinn orchestrated the whole thing. And why? Because you thought it would be funny?"
"Jesus. How drunk are you?" She rolled her eyes, quite hypocritically given her own blood alcohol level. "This was a nice thing. We gave you a crown. How are you upset about this? Isn't there anything you won't cry about? I mean, I get why Quinn is pissed, it's what I was going for, but you?"
"Exactly. You gave me a crown. I didn't win it. I didn't win over our class or peers or even my friends." Despite the confetti New Directions was finally showered in after taking Nationals, Rachel had been waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop on her prom victory. She had been surprised enough that she wasn't being Carrie'd. She just didn't expect the truth would hurt this much. "You know, I really thought that I finally got them to like me. That they finally respected me. That they saw me to be Finn's equal. But that was just another lie. I couldn't get one of them to vote for me, could I? Not one. Not ever."
"Are you even listening? You got one of them to vote for you over a hundred times. And I had to write all that shit out so really you got two. Congratulations. No grow up and stop acting like we were trying to betray your fragile, little ego."
"I don't understand."
Santana appeared not to hear her and launched into a halfhearted rant as she began pacing now herself.
"You know she could have given it to me. You didn't even fucking want it. I was there. I campaigned. Because, yeah, as shocking as it probably is to you, you're not the only one who had a relationship. Do you get how cool it would have been if me and Brittany won? Instead of some wedding top standard. And I was her co-bitch. Who, by the way, only lost by one vote. One. But I guess Berry having a breakdown trumps that. And that's why she did it. Because you were a tad depressed that week. You were more depressed than the girl in a wheelchair. I guess you did win that part." Rachel bit her lip at the reminder of Quinn's accident, and Santana came closer; probably smelling the added vulnerability. She had no clue why the other girl was being so cold. They were all friends now, right?
"And let's be honest here for a second. Quinn always bends for you. Bends so she doesn't break. It's gross. Not to mention really fucking pathetic. Even for her. Like I'm starting to have trouble even being near her when she's near you. It's so nauseating Pepto-Bismol should be paying for my college fund by now."
"Stop. Just stop." Rachel crossed her arms protectively around her midsection, careful not to spill her drink, and tried to gather her bearings. None of this was right. "Quinn wouldn't–she was campaigning with Finn. They were shoe-ins. Finn and I even argued about it. I don't…Why would Quinn give it away after she went through all the trouble? And like you said, we know what state she was in. I'm sure winning would have lifted her spirits. So why-"
"Because she's in love with you," Santana scoffed as if saying the words physically pained her to do so. "Honestly, you can't be that blind."
Blind? No, she wasn't blind. But everything Rachel had ever known about her natural born auditory abilities was tossed out the window because surely she had misheard. Did alcohol have adverse effects on hearing too? They should warn for that on the labels.
Yet Santana appeared to be serious as she stood still, waiting for a rebuttal. As if what she said…was what she said. Okay.
No.
This wasn't possible.
She and Quinn had spent years fighting heatedly over Finn. She had cared a great deal for Sam and had a child with Noah. Santana had wandered so far off base that if it had involved virtually anyone but Quinn, the situation would have been comical. She, however, actually respected the blonde. Something Santana obviously needed practice in. Santana's angle here truthfully did only seem to be self-serving. Rachel was disappointed in that, and her ultimate response, she felt, was adequate given the delicate topic.
"I've read Wicked more than once and yes, obviously I picked up on the subtext. Just like I know that in a town like Lima, it's hard to find diversity. The queer female population here I'd assume is low, and I'm not sure what access you may or may not have to a high speed internet connection. So on a very basic level, I can appreciate your lesbian agenda and desire to have someone else to relate to, but Quinn and I, that's…She's not in love with me. That's-that's just silly," she laughed a bit over the words. Over the very idea.
"Okay, that was offensive on, like, three different levels." Santana continued to look like everything about this conversation repulsed her. "Like I'd even want this. Like Quinn Fucking Fabray isn't way out of your league. As if yours truly and every girl in that house isn't a better option. Hell, Kurt is a better option than you." Rachel found that comparison more offensive than anything she said. "So sorry to burst your heterosphere, but it's not an 'agenda'." She took the time to (sloppily) air-quote. Rachel just inhaled and remained calm.
"I'm married to Finn. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him. An-and Q-Quinn's straight. She doesn't have romantic feelings for me, Santana." She tried to smile again, but despite her range of facial controls as a future actress, it just felt like a grimace.
"We're all aware that Finnept doesn't have a shred of a life and had to chain his to yours. We were in the wedding, remember?" If she could, she'd take back Santana's invitation. Evidently, the girl shouldn't have been welcomed into their surprise wedding ceremony. "And Quinn? Quinn's ambisextrous at best. Where have you been the last four years?"
"You're clearly inebriated. Tomorrow when you replay this in your head, you'll realize how little sense you're making."
"No, actually it makes perfect sense. You just don't want it to because it fucks with that sad, desperate picture you keep painting. The one where everyone finally respects you because you used to be some huge loser but now you're some Broadway big shot who married the star quarterback and is friends with the pretty, blonde cheerleader? Quaint." Her smirk was playful, friendly even, before it dropped away. "Except you're not friends, Rachel. Face it, Quinn will never be your friend."
Rachel wanted to slap her and almost gave into the urge. She had no right to be saying any of this. None of it was even true in the first place. They were supposed to like each other now. She gave Santana one of her eight wallet sized school photos, complete with the backdrop that cost extra! Instead, she clutched her cup–sayin' what's up to my cup–and decided to focus on the last part. It seemed most important seeing as what spurred on this whole conversation. "We are friends. Okay? You can't just erase that or–or change that just so you can win at some–some argument."
"Look, she might indulge you and tell you that you are, but it's only so she doesn't have to admit anything. Just like you won't have to acknowledge everything." Santana smirked again before backing away and holding up her hands in mock surrender. "But whatever. I was trying to help tonight, but fuck it now. In a couple of weeks none of this will even matter. Q will start getting her experimenting on at Yale, and you'll be living out your demented version of some '50s housewife, dropping to Finn's every whim and crushing your own dreams in the process. And you know what? I support that."
She could feel the crack in her cup as she grasped it. It was the only shield she had against her anger. Quinn at Yale would not be an experiment. She had worked too hard to get her future right. And New York would be Rachel and Finn making their dreams come true together. Well, Rachel was going to make her dreams come true while Finn would find a dream of his own, but same difference. Screw Santana Lopez and her need for downgrading everyone else. Really, that had gotten old ages ago. She suddenly wanted to hurt her back. It wouldn't be difficult. Santana was never actually 'keeping it real.' She lashed out due to her own insecurities. It would be easy to toss them back in her face. This suddenly seemed like a great idea.
Okay, so maybe she was a little drunk after all.
"You're just jealous. You're jealous that Quinn's going to the college of her choice while you're going to be nothing more than a cheerleader for another four years because you have no other options. And you're jealous that Finn and I are going to be together and that we're going to make it while you and Brittany will be separated by state lines. It's why you're being such a bitch!"
She was breathing heavily by the end and worried that Santana was going to hit her as she came forward. She looked pissed and had no cup to clutch. Not that Rachel thought a cup would stop her from doing so anyway. However, Santana just strode forward and stopped right in front of her. Her hands momentarily stayed at her sides.
"Take it from someone who's been there, the denial only lasts so long. Eventually, it'll catch up to you. And I was going to be there as a friend who can sympathize, but no." She backhanded the protector cup out of her hands. Rachel watched it sail and fall into the grass. Santana didn't even seem to notice. "You just lost that." Walking around Rachel to go back inside, she stopped behind her and made sure to get in the final word. "I guess that means you're down two friendships."
Rachel kept her focus resolutely ahead of her. Across the street, Mercedes's neighbors had left their garage light on. It was more important to center in on that than to turn around and give Santana the satisfaction of seeing what destruction her words had caused. She waited until she heard the door slam closed behind her before collapsing in on herself.
She was not going to cry over this. Santana was wrong. The facts were very simple. They were friends now. They gave each other advice and offered support. It had taken them years of heartbreak and torment to even get here.
Quinn wasn't…
She cared about this relationship–no, friendship–just as much as Rachel did. It was Quinn who said she wanted them to stay in touch next year. And it was Quinn who bought them the train tickets to do so. Did that sound like someone who no longer wanted to be friends? No, absolutely not. Rachel had half a mind to run inside and argue over this final point with Santana. It would put this completely unwanted turn of events behind them as they each entered into their new lives. However, she somehow doubted Santana would even hear her, and it'd be nothing but a frustrating waste of her time and energy.
Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered anyway, because by the time Rachel encouraged herself to go back inside and rejoin her friends, everyone had seemingly forgotten about the prior exchange. Truth or Dare had officially ended, and the club took to dancing throughout the living room. Quinn and Santana had apparently talked and made up while she was still outside, and soon, amidst all the laughter, Finn was pulling her away to whisper promises into her ear. The night ended on a positive note, and to Rachel's relief that continued into the rest of their summer.
The final weeks they spent together as a group in Lima were as peaceful as they had ever been. There were no fights or any other breakups. Each senior packed their bags and with a tearful goodbye, left one by one. No one brought up prom, and Santana's ridiculous, drunken theories were not ever mentioned.
It was almost like the entire thing never happened at all.
Two weeks after the party, Rachel and Finn were moving out. Burt and Leroy had taken them earlier in the summer for a weekend trip of apartment hunting in New York. They had found a loft apartment within the adjusted price range out in Brooklyn. It needed to be furnished and would require far more commuting than anyone wanted, but it was theirs. Their fathers signed on the lease as the renters because two teenagers, married or not, would never get the space. Besides, they were the ones paying for it.
Rachel's fathers were helping to pay the tuition that financial aid didn't immediately cover while Finn's parents took what they deemed as his college fund and used it to pay for the loft until the couple could eventually live on their own. In the meantime, Rachel and Finn were responsible for all utility bills, groceries, and any entertainment purchases. Using her existing bank account that mostly consisted of a life's worth of birthday and bat mitzvah cards, Rachel was in charge of furniture. Some of it was inexpensive, like the shelves Finn found at a yard sale. The rest of it drained most of her account until Rachel had no choice but to apply for one of those student credit cards companies kept sending her. They used it to buy everything else they needed like dishes and linen and pulsating showerheads. They were alone and together and happy until the bill came. Apparently, credit only lasted so long.
They had begun eating microwavable meals which were not at all suitable for her diet. But then her diet was not at all suitable to their budget. Cable television was out. Their phones were now on a pay-as-you-go plan. Subways and walking were the only forms of transportation. It was far worse than either had anticipated. Thankfully, Finn finally found some luck in his job search and was hired as a mechanic at a privately owned auto repair garage. He was hired on to eventually replace one of the older workers who would be taking a desk job within the next year. The pay was minimal, but it was exactly what they needed. Rachel only wished it wasn't necessary. Finn may have confessed that he only really wanted to pursue acting because everyone in glee was going into show business and it would mean they would always be together, but Rachel knew he had bigger dreams than some undistinguished, everyday job. Even if he hadn't found them yet.
Between work and school, they didn't have much time together. They saw each other in the morning over breakfast and in between their showers, and then they'd be together again when Finn returned home. Once they got settled into their daily routine, they didn't have many struggles to work through. They didn't have many issues to talk through. They didn't have much to talk about at all actually. Without their friends and glee club and all the drama, there was no conversation cushion. Rachel was sure that this was normal, though. As soon as they met some new people, it would be much different. They just had to be patient.
They were only in New York for a month before they were provided with that much needed buffer. Kurt had taken an internship at Vogue so, of course, him moving in with his brother and best friend made all the sense in the world. It probably wouldn't have for most newlyweds, but Kurt's father was still paying their rent so even if they were upset, it would be tactless to say so. Nevertheless, that was all moot because Rachel loved having Kurt there. She finally had someone she could talk to about all the things she couldn't share with Finn. Kurt could understand while her husband refused to try.
NYADA's annual underground Sing Off against its rival performing arts colleges was upon them. Students from NYADA, Tisch, Juilliard, and Marymount were to get together at an undisclosed location as they had for decades, and only a select few freshmen were invited. It was a great honor to be chosen, and Rachel had been ecstatic. She had assumed Finn would be equally happy for her. And while he was, Finn was more focused on the fact that it was a guy who had picked her to represent their team. A guy who had asked her out prior to this.
Brody Weston was older, attractive, and interested. But she had quickly told him she was married, and after explaining that she was not making a joke, he had apologized and offered to be her friend. It was innocent, but being an outsider, Finn wasn't allowed to come and see that for himself. Only enrolled students were allowed at the Sing Off. Objectively, if their positions were reversed, Rachel would probably take up the same issue if Finn was running off in secret with an older woman who wanted to date him. So in order to keep harmony, Rachel elected to stay home, and they spent the night cuddled on their secondhand couch watching Almost Famous.
On Monday, Rachel was informed that NYADA lost, and Brody expressed his disappointment in her. He had gone out on a limb to invite her as his choice, and instead, they were short a singer. Rachel didn't like the insinuation that she owed him anything and decided it would be best to cut ties with him all together. She was sure she'd make other friends.
Kurt and Blaine broke up during the first week in October. The distance had gotten to them recently, and Blaine had a hard time handling the fact that Kurt's attention was drawn away to his job and only his job. It was depressing to watch two of her closest friends go through this, but she also took a small pride in knowing that she and Finn had not fallen to the same obstacles. They were the only couple left from glee. Even Mike and Tina were struggling with the separation. It was rewarding, in a way, to know that they were right to get married.
They kept this to themselves out of respect for their roommate, and Finn was even considerate enough to propose that they cut down on their publically displayed couple time until Kurt has stopped mourning his relationship. Rachel agreed as she knew firsthand how grating it was to watch two people in love when your own heart was shattered. Due to not actually having walls, this moderation also sooner or later trickled into their bedroom activities. She reworked their weekday schedules to now exclude Wednesday Sex. Finn used the time to catch up on his sleep, and Rachel would practice the dance routines that were giving her the most trouble. It was far from the worst trade off.
Their first argument came off what had started on a positive note.
Rachel wanted them to go to a party some of her classmates were throwing at the dorms. It was Friday. Neither of them had anything to wake up for tomorrow. It would be fun, and Finn could meet some potential friends from NYADA. Sadly, Finn had worked an hour of overtime to finish something or other on a transmission (Transmitter? She hadn't been listening to the precise details.) and was close to exhaustion. All he wanted to do was snack over his video games for a while to unwind and then go to bed early. She hardly wanted to pressure him or cause him to pass out in public so she assured him that he could just come along next time. But as she and Kurt went back to getting ready, Finn had seemed shocked that they were still going.
That was where it turned sour.
This entire situation was not working out how Rachel planned. She was supposed to be starting her future, and Finn was–well she wasn't sure what Finn was supposed to be doing she just knew that he was supposed to be there. Even if he didn't want to come along, he could still support her. Instead, he just seemed irritated and demanded to know if 'that Brody guy' was going to be there. She hadn't even been talking to Brody, solely because out of respect for Finn, and refused to dignify the accusation with a response. (Also, because Brody was going to be there and that would only start a separate quarrel despite the fact that she had no real desire to seek him out.)
Kurt was haplessly stuck in the middle and had to decide if he wanted to follow Rachel to the party or stay home with Finn as he stewed in his irrational jealousy. With an apologetic shrug to his stepbrother, Kurt joined Rachel in Manhattan. The party should have been amazing. It was her first college party. She was surrounded by peers who shared her same goals and interests. She had freedom and (relative) independence in the city of her dreams. But Kurt seemed more in his element than she did. He looked like he belonged. At least one of them was having a good time.
When they returned home, the pair retired to their respective bedrooms. Finn was already in their bed, but it was clear that he hadn't gotten any sleep. She crawled in next to him, and they glossed over the whole ordeal. It was easier to just ignore it.
"Are you leaving?"
Rachel looked up from her phone and over to her spouse. Finn was staring at her packed bags in dread as his words caught up with her. His posture was rigid. The rejection was evident; as if this was something he had been expecting to happen and had already prepared for. She wasn't sure what that said about their marriage exactly.
"I'm going to see Quinn. At Yale. We discussed this last week."
"Don't you think we should talk about everything instead?"
"We can talk when I get back."
"So it's more important to you to go see Quinn's new life than work on ours," Finn called after her in her exit.
"That's not what I said!" Rachel released her small rolling suitcase and spun back around.
"It kind of is."
"Finn, I want to see my friend. I can't keep…dropping everything I want to do and experience just because it doesn't involve you."
"Yeah, well you're not the only one with a life outside of this apartment, Rachel. I've made friends here too. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I want to go hang out with them sometimes instead of listening to you talk about whatever happened in school which always seems to be the same thing anyway? I get it, NYADA's great, but sometimes I don't need that thrown in my face. Especially when all I'm ever telling you is about some dumb, new customer at work!"
She took a deep breath as Finn's shout echoed away. "If that's really how you feel, then I suggest you take your own weekend and spend some time with your own friends. I'll be home Sunday afternoon."
By the time she got to Grand Central, Rachel realized she may have missed an important point. Finn had obviously been more upset with himself than he was with her. She didn't know how to fix that for him, but she wasn't sure he could do it alone either. She briefly contemplated calling the trip off and going back home. Quinn would understand, and there would be plenty of other dates to do this. However, she really didn't want to wait any longer, and as awful as it sounded, she didn't want to deal with Finn yet. While she understood where he was coming from, her anger from his own incapability of being reasonable still stung, and her desire to talk to someone who understood the rigorous transition into college was too strong. So Rachel got on the train.
She and Quinn hadn't talked as much as she would have liked since moving away to school. They called each other occasionally, but mostly they were keeping in touch through biweekly emails. Rachel would email lively reports to everyone in glee about New York, and Quinn was usually one of the few to respond. They were short exchanges that covered the basics and divulged nothing more, impersonal really.
She couldn't lie. It had been disappointing. She had expected that their friendship would only have continued to grow. She had not anticipated a standstill. They weren't living that far from each other, and why else did they have these passes if not to use them? But at the same time, Quinn truly had seemed that busy. They had debated meeting up a few times, but this was the first time both of their schedules had been freed up enough for a weekend getaway. That and Quinn's roommate was driving home for the weekend to visit her family.
It was about two hours before Rachel arrived in Connecticut. Quinn was exactly where she said she'd be, and Rachel wasted no time throwing her arms around her in a tight hug. It was just so great to see her again! Her hair was a little longer than it was the last time they were together and her smile was a little wider, but she was still the same Quinn. Yale hadn't turned her into a snooty trust-funded republican nor had she reverted back to chasing after a reputation that Rachel would have no place in. She seemed more carefree now than anything.
Quinn drove them back to her residence, having borrowed her floormate's car, and after dropping off Rachel's things, took her around to give them a brief tour. They walked around the gothic campus together, all the while Quinn was filling her in on New Haven and its theater district which she knew would interest the brunette. She met a few of Quinn's classmates. She got to see the library where Quinn had warmed her way into getting a student job. It had been an enviable position, one that freshmen simply have not earned. But the graduate student who was managing everything took a liking to Quinn Fabray's charms. No surprise. He'd be an idiot not to. From there, Rachel was shown the supposed entrances to Yale's secret steam tunnels that either resulted in arrest or death. Finally, they stopped at a small bistro Quinn frequented to get a quick brunch before heading back to the dorms.
After settling in and getting comfortable, she was being handed a bottle of water from the room's mini fridge. "So how are you? How's NYADA?"
When Rachel will later think back on this conversation, it will strike her as an important sign that Quinn asked about NYADA before asking about Finn. For now, she was all too pleased to gush about her school.
"NYADA's wonderful. It's the perfect launching pad, and the references I'll get cannot be bought. Some of the professors have actually been on Broadway. Okay, so they've actually just produced shows on Broadway but still. Admittedly, the success rate after graduation isn't as high as I'd like it to be. And my classmates, Quinn, they're so talented, the best in the country. Sometimes, I'm afraid that I'm going to be one of those statistics that doesn't make it. It's nerve-wracking being around some of them. I couldn't even train to do the things they do."
"I somehow doubt that." Quinn snorted. "You've always stepped it up for competition. Including sending some poor girl to a crack house. I'm sure being around talent of your caliber has somehow made you better. If not more insane."
"Maybe," she agreed coyly. "Just the talent part, though. And I'm supposed to be modest now so that's just between us. Apparently pride, no matter how self-aware, does not look good on anyone unestablished and over sixteen. That's the first lesson at NYADA. It's in our unofficial motto."
After Quinn's amusement at that died away, she moved on to the topics that Rachel would rather not be discussing. "How are you and Finn?" This question was tighter, as if she was reading a line, as if she didn't want to actually be asking it. And it was that inflection that momentarily broke something in Rachel.
A small part of her wanted to just blurt out how right Quinn had been all along; how marrying at their age was unwise. Even though it was insane and impossible, it felt like maybe if she just admitted that, then her world would right itself, and she could go back to that day and redo it all. Or maybe go back farther when she and Kurt stood on stage and sang their hearts out, and she was reminded that it was New York and Broadway that would always hold her heart captive. They would always be there like they were supposed to. That would never change.
But it didn't work like that, and Rachel was still determined to see this through. So as she had practiced for many of life's disappointments during her early adolescent years, she held her chin up and put on a bright–but not too bright–smile and went about answering as best she could.
"We're great. Finn's still working full-time and has made some new friends, and I really think we're adjusting well to living in the city. And, of course, Kurt is living with us too which admittedly put a damper on the honeymoon phase, but we're really good."
"Good. That's good. I'm glad you're happy. You've gotten everything you wanted. That's pretty amazing."
It was a nice thing to say. Mainly because Quinn did genuinely seem to think her accomplishments were amazing, but she really wanted to scream at the girl. It should have been obvious that she, in fact, was not happy like Quinn was assuming. Yet here she sat in a Yale dormitory that, frankly, was too small for human life with Quinn Fabray who appeared lighter and more at ease than Rachel could ever recall seeing her. It was like leaving Lima and everyone behind was all Quinn ever needed to be secure and happy with herself. And while Rachel could admire that, she couldn't help but highlight how unfair it all was. Hadn't leaving Lima and McKinley for much brighter lights been her dream first? It was all she had ever wanted and worked for.
So why didn't it have the same effect on Rachel?
When she returned home, things were better for a while. She and Finn did not fight. It was working again, almost as if all they needed was some time apart. Their apartment routine was going smoothly until Kurt mentioned that he was thinking about NYADA again despite how much he loved his internship. He insisted that he could do both and scheduled himself that week for the spring semester auditions.
Rachel was thrilled, but she noticed underlying Finn's encouragement was a twinge of distress. It couldn't be easy to watch his wife and stepbrother go off to school and their futures without him. She wanted him to feel included. Finn would always be with them, and she had the perfect plan to remedy the situation. It only took a day or so to execute.
While Kurt was in the shower, Rachel determinedly strode into their kitchen where Finn was scarfing down his breakfast. He really should eat slower, it wasn't healthy. She removed his plate and replaced it with a pile of papers.
Finn stared down at where his waffles had just been. "What are these?"
"College brochures." She grinned. "I picked them up after my morning workout yesterday. They're local schools, of course, and cost-effective. You can go part time. It won't interfere with work. I already called their admissions to make sure. I think CUNY is the best fit. They have campuses in all the boroughs so you wouldn't even have to commute as far as I do."
He set down his fork. "And when exactly would I do this?"
"Well, now," she answered with a small smile. Really, that seemed obvious to her. "You can still apply for the spring semester. McKinley will send in your transcripts. You have more than enough references."
"No, I mean, when would I have the time. I get off work at five but I don't get home until after six. Then we eat and I finally get, like, two hours to do nothing before I have to go to bed so I can get up early enough to shower and jump on three different subways. Where does school fit in that? At night when I'm sleeping?"
Rachel frowned. She had expected her husband to be hesitant. She didn't think he'd be angry about the proposal. She was only trying to help, but he just seemed insulted. "Finn, it's…you don't have to enroll. I know how hard you work. But I also know that you don't want to work as a mechanic for the rest of your life."
"Why not? It pays well enough right now, and the longer you stay in it, the more money you make. I could open my own business one day like Burt. There's nothing wrong with that."
"I didn't say there was."
"Not everyone needs to be famous. I know pretty much everyone from glee is trying to be, but some people do normal stuff. Why can't that be me?"
"I just thought that maybe you'd want to do something that that isn't…"
He glared up at her in a challenge. "Isn't what?"
"Necessary," she stressed. "You know, I thought that you could do something because you wanted to for a change. Not because you felt a responsibility to. You have so much to offer, Finn."
He swallowed as he stood up from their small table. "You can't always get what you want. And it's not the right time for college. Maybe later. Like when you finish at NYADA and get your big role and everyone else gets to see how awesome you are." He reached for her waist and gave her his half-smile that she always loved. "Then you can bring home the turkey."
She giggled. "Bacon. Not that I'd bring home either."
"Right. But I can just go to school then." Her laughter died away.
"You shouldn't have to put your life on hold like that."
"Working isn't putting your life on hold, Rachel. I wish you could see that." Finn let her go and stepped away, obviously wounded.
None of this had been her intention.
Rachel was uncertain and waited a day to apologize. They had said only a few words to each other in passing since her proposal the previous morning. She wanted nothing more than for them to just make up with each other and move on from everything that had been weighing on their relationship for the last couple of weeks.
"I'm sorry." She took a seat on his lap as he watched television. "I shouldn't pressure you. Not everyone knows what they want to do with their life or have tight-knit bulletins dedicated to every step on the way to their future success and stardom since they were five."
Finn chuckled and leaned up to kiss her softly. "I'll figure it out. I promise."
"I know. I believe in you."
Finn had always taken a great strength from her pride in him, and his next kiss deepened quickly. The make-up ended up in the bedroom, and it was nice but it was also different.
For the first time, she wasn't nervous. No matter how many times she had been with Finn intimately, she had always felt those anxious stirrings of anticipation. It was similar to being onstage. But the butterflies weren't there. Instead, it was only comfortable. If she had been in her thirties and they had been married over a decade, she may have even called it routine. But it was much too soon for that obligatory marital rut, wasn't it? They were nowhere near having early midlife crises.
The void, however, began to bleed into the rest of her life, and Rachel was almost helpless in stopping it. It was impossible to stop something you didn't understand.
Thanksgiving was upon them and after a few phone calls, it was discovered that all the gleeks were heading home. They decided to have a small reunion over their short break. It would be great to see everyone and catch up. Rachel couldn't wait to prove to all their friends that she had made it; that they had made it. Finn agreed to her suggestion of inviting Quinn out for the weekend to show off their apartment. Having someone other than Kurt see what they've accomplished was essential. They both thought New Directions was more likely to believe Quinn than the three of them.
Their blonde friend took in the loft with all the appropriate compliments and less enthusiasm than had been hoped for. It was easy to ignore, though, as they still had the whole day ahead of them. Rachel had a plan for her and Finn to show Quinn around NYADA and some of New York's lesser known attractions before returning home for an impressive home cooked dinner.
The trio left, and before they got even ten minutes away, they were short a member. Rachel and Quinn began talking excitedly about school, and that was when Finn quit.
"Hey, why don't you two go ahead?" He held them back. "I've already seen NYADA, and anyway, it's probably not fair that we stuck Kurt with dinner just because he's the only one who won't burn down the loft. I'll go give him a hand."
With a goodbye kiss to his wife, Finn left them there.
Quinn frowned after his exit. "If Kurt needs help, maybe we should go back."
Rachel shook her off. "Finn just doesn't always understand or want to talk about NYADA. It's difficult that he's not there too."
"Right."
It was said skeptically. Quinn clearly had questions, probably like why would Finn be at NYADA? That wasn't his dream. It was hers.
"And it's not–I mean sometimes I'm not particularly interested in the garage either. I don't blame him."
"No, I get it." She didn't seem to but Rachel let it slide, too afraid of starting an argument, and Quinn was already dragging them forward anyways. "Come on. I want you to show me your school."
She couldn't help the smile on her face.
Much like the tour Quinn had given her, Rachel chose to take them around NYADA's campus and the blocks it resided over. It was a weekend and they had no reason to go into the dorms, so no introductions were made. She thought about maybe going to Callbacks, but it was still early and they'd probably lose track of time. Rachel would rather they keep to themselves, and following Quinn's lead, they instead stopped for coffee at NYADA's own hidden café. The coffee was horrible, but with her student pass the prices really couldn't be beat.
"So? What is the final grade?"
"It's nice."
"Nice? Did you miss the conservatory studio?"
Quinn smiled, setting down her coffee on the small table they had snagged. "I think it's perfect for you. I can't picture you anywhere else."
There had always been a part of her that craved Quinn's approval and hearing this was doing wonders for her ego. And her heart. Rachel valued their friendship so much. She wasn't sure how that ever could have been brought into question.
"Why did you rig the prom queen vote?"
Quinn was visibly caught off guard at the change in subject. Rachel wasn't even entirely sure why she asked it herself.
"I was hoping you forgot about that."
"No such luck." Not for a lack of trying, though. "Santana basically told me it was out of pity, but then–Quinn, you say these things, and I'm not sure what to believe."
She scoffed. "Santana just should have kept her mouth shut."
Rachel wasn't about to argue with that and waited for the answer to her question. Quinn sat up straighter, unblinking as she debated even responding. For a moment, Rachel was worried until the girl relented with a sigh and played with her cup's sleeve.
"When we counted the votes and I found out I won…it wasn't what it was supposed to be. I used to have this very specific vision of prom and, well it was stupid, but when I finally won I realized it just didn't matter. Everything I had been doing to try and win was shallow, and you reminded me that I didn't need to do that because I wasn't that girl anymore, and I didn't need that validation." She paused. "I think I really needed to hear that."
Quinn gave an awkward shrug before continuing. "Besides, Santana was more pissed about Brittany losing than anything so it wasn't difficult to convince her to go along with it, and for whatever reason you stopped thinking you could do this." She gestured around them, rather nonchalantly given the period in Rachel's life she was talking about. "We thought it would mean more to you, but it's just a stupid crown. It's not that big of a deal."
"But it is. Or it was at the time," Rachel insisted and reached across the table to grab Quinn's hand, ignoring the way it tensed under her palm. Quinn really shouldn't have felt guilty. Rachel may have initially thought that it was all a mean prank, but clearly, it wasn't. It was sweet actually. "Quinn, it made me feel like I could do anything. And the fact that you'd give me that-"
"And Santana."
"Right, yeah, her too." She waved off the interjection. Honestly, Santana didn't seem all that accountable in this. "What I'm saying is: Thank you. It meant–it means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me."
Quinn removed her hand and clutched her drink, shaking her head. "Don't mention it. Seriously. Don't."
She laughed at the warning and how embarrassed Quinn seemed as she drank the last of her coffee. She never would have thought that she'd get Quinn Fabray to blush.
Rachel, Finn, and Kurt flew home together for Thanksgiving and were picked up by Sam in Columbus. The drive home consisted of a retelling of their parents' newest plan. Dinner was going to be held at the Hummel residence where Carole and Hiram were currently cooking up both families' traditional meals. Burt and Leroy had been playing referee, and Sam was in a rush to get back out of fear that he would miss out on who was declared the winners. Never mind the fact that it wasn't technically a competition. So in order to save on time, they forwent dropping Rachel and Finn's luggage off at the basement and just headed straight over to Kurt's.
The kitchen was a mess but the hugs were bountiful, and immediately, both families were talking over each other to catch up on everything that had been missed. Cooking contest forgotten, Burt and Leroy sat down with Sam and Finn to watch football and actively root against the Cowboys. Kurt joined them and tried to get a feel of the game but mostly criticized the uniforms. Rachel stayed in the kitchen to help her father perfect her vegan casserole, answering all of Carole's questions about school and Finn's work regimen. Rachel reassured her that her son was not working too hard. Finally, dinner was served, and they all sat to happily chat over their lives and relationships.
The classic family holiday scene was natural. Even Sam's additional presence was natural. This was her life now. This was going to be her life next year and every year after that. The thought was so suffocating that Rachel barely held it together before having to excuse herself to the restroom.
The cold water on her face did not help. Opening the uselessly small shower window did not help. She could grab her phone from the couch without being noticed, but everyone she would normally call to vent to was sitting at the table not two rooms away. She had no one. It would put a damper on Kurt's night which wasn't at all fair. Her fathers, they would just smuggle her away with a phony birth certificate. And Finn...She hadn't seen Finn this happy since summer. He clearly loved being back home where everything was familiar. He seemed so content in just being one, giant happy family.
So why wasn't she? What was so wrong with her that she couldn't even manage that?
The party at Brittany's house the following night was the best possible distraction. This reunion did not have expectations. No one was around to disappoint or worry. Here, she was happy being with Finn. Their relationship had always made sense in glee, and being surrounded by their friends quickly reminded her of that. It was so heartening to see everyone together again.
Rachel hadn't even realized how much she missed Artie and Brittany and even Sugar until she saw them huddled, talking to each other. Mike and Tina were pleasant as always. Noah and Mercedes talked her ear off about LA, specifically Hollywood. Blaine hugged her so tightly that she laughed from the force of it. And so long as they didn't have any potential, reality-altering conversations, it was even great seeing Santana again. (Teen Jesus was also there, but he really only seemed to want to talk to Quinn, and Rachel found that bothersome enough that she didn't even try remembering his actual name. It really wasn't worth mentioning.)
This party ended up working far better than their last one (and the one before that) as no one dared to suggest playing any games. For a while it wasn't even so much a party as it was a chance to socialize as a group. The current New Directions had Sectionals coming up and were worried they were going to lose to the Warblers. They hadn't been able to fill the seniors' spots and had been using their band members again. Kurt excitedly filled them all in on his fairy godmother of a boss at Vogue, ignoring Blaine's heartbroken expression. Mercedes was singing backup professionally and helping Noah expand his pool cleaning business outside of LA to help it grow. Santana supposedly hated Louisville and was thinking about dropping out. Mike was street-dancing with a group trying to make a name for themselves online in the freestyle dance community. Quinn would not tell them about the secret society she had joined, and then it was the Hudsons' turn.
Rachel had tried keeping them all informed on their happenings when first moving to New York, but at some point she simply stopped caring enough to bother. She could brag about NYADA if she actually participated outside of going to class. And Finn's job hadn't changed at all since she used to send out the monthly emails. The couple just ended up telling their friends that New York was exciting and that it's all going well. No one seemed overly inclined to buy it, but they didn't outright say so either. Instead, Sugar declared this party dull and turned up the music. The party became an actual party which was more than welcomed since Rachel suddenly needed a drink. Or ten. Her mood from earlier had definitely run thin, and as the night wore on all remnants of it were gone.
Everything began to annoy her.
Finn spent too much time playing counter beer pong with Sam and Puckerman in the kitchen. Mike and Brittany treated everyone to a sloppy dance off that Tina was playing judge to and no one else was watching. Santana demanded to know everything about Los Angeles from Mercedes, as if she could make it there too. Kurt and Blaine tried to talk privately, shooing her away. Artie and Sugar disappeared into a bedroom which she felt was rude. And Quinn, well Quinn actually began to engage her stalker, like that was ever smart behavior. Eventually, trapped in an unexpected haze of Jacob Ben Israel's worst deeds, she lost sight of them amongst the party goers.
Rachel wandered off in search of the pair without anyone stopping her. Why Quinn–a student at Yale–would want to waste her time with some high school nobody was beyond her. They didn't even have anything in common other than a fondness for Jesus which they just happened to share with only a few million other people. It wasn't at all unique or special, and Rachel planned on loudly telling the girl this as soon as she found her.
Brittany's house wasn't anything like Mercedes's. It had less square footage which perhaps could have made it cozy, but upstairs, toys were spilling out of her brother's bedroom, and cat toys were spilling out of her own. It was messy, the interior décor clashed with no purpose, and she could have sworn that she smelt a faint whiff of marijuana the deeper she explored. After getting through the clutter, there was still no sign of Quinn or the barefooted boy she was probably attached to–and how was that at all attractive? The only point Rachel reached was a dead end. A dead end that apparently led up.
The set of stairs were barely two feet wide and free of carpet unlike the hallway that led into them. (Why was Extreme Makeover no longer a show?) They curved twice at sharp angles, and regrettably, there was no railing in sight which made climbing them absurdly more difficult than it had to be. They didn't even lead anywhere. Nothing was at the top but a small window overlooking the backyard and the ceiling. Nothing but that and a gloomy looking Quinn Fabray.
Found you.
"You're alone," Rachel noted, oddly relieved. It occurred to her when she got to the top that maybe Quinn wanted to be alone. Maybe that's why she was hiding on this purposeless, forgotten staircase. "Where's whatshisface? He doesn't make a very appealing shadow."
"Someone's drunk."
She succeeded in not spilling her empty cup–red solo cup, I fill you up–and plopped down next to her friend. "I, Quinn Fabray, am not drunk. You're just mad I pointed out your boy dependency." This would have been more convincing had she not missed sitting on the correct stair.
"My–my boy dependency?" Quinn scowled down at her. Rachel couldn't figure out how she was so high above her. "I don't think I've had one of those in a while, thanks."
"Well you have one tonight. I've been watching," she informed. "Sam's nice. We had dinner with him. You used to have one with Sam."
"Briefly. Two years ago. And I'm not even sure I'd categorize it as a dependency." Quinn was being very patient with her right now. She could see that much. Rachel pushed forward anyway.
"You lived with Noah. That was dependency. Literally."
"Okay." Quinn started to get up to leave. Rachel almost felt bad about kicking her out of her secret spot.
"And Finn. You lived with him too. You were going to sell houses with Finn. Marry him. And he'd fix cars." Rachel frowned, suddenly very upset. "Do you know how much that hurt me when you told me that? How much it hurt to know that Finn would choose to date you again even though you cheated on him first? I couldn't understand that. What made me so different from you?" She could feel the tears and saw as they began to blur her vision. Quinn must have seen them too because she sat back down.
"Finn's an idiot."
"I didn't hear what you were saying then. Not really. I just thought you were being mean and w-was too focused on how it felt like we all went back in time. I was so worried that you were just–just erasing my relationship with him, and it was so stupid, Quinn, it was so stupid because I know what you were saying now. You didn't really want to marry him and sell houses and you're so lucky you didn't and I'm sorry I didn't listen to you." The sob choked her, and she ran a fitful hand through her bangs, turning away. "God, why didn't I just listen? I never listened. I don't know what I'm going to do."
"C'mere." Quinn moved a step down to pull her into a one-armed hug. Instantly, she wilted into her side. Rachel would probably look back on this tomorrow with some form of embarrassment. She really needed to stop drinking. "You're going to be fine, Rachel. This can all be fixed, okay? It's not the end of the world. And it's certainly not rock bottom, trust me."
"It feels too late."
"It's not."
"I don't even know how I got here."
"You got here because you never give up on what's important to you."
She pulled back a bit and wiped at her tears. "And that's a bad thing?"
"I don't know. But if you're not happy, then I don't think it's a bad thing to let go either. You deserve to be happy, Rachel."
"Even if that comes at the expense of someone else's happiness?" She wasn't even sure anymore if Finn would be entirely unhappy about walking away. His dream couldn't really be fixing cars.
Quinn seemed to be confused by this too and was suddenly hesitant about what she said. "It's okay to put yourself first, you know."
Rachel didn't think that was very true. And it definitely wasn't true now when she had legally sworn otherwise. Most of the time people had always berated her and told her she was self-centered when she chose to do something for herself and only herself. Quinn included, but that hadn't been for a while.
"Would you put me first?"
Quinn didn't seem comfortable with this question either. She shifted quietly and pulled her arm away before clearing away her agitation.
"You mean if I were in your shoes?" That was not what Rachel meant. "Probably. But I've always been more selfish than you," she joked, bumping their shoulders. Rachel didn't think that was necessarily true either. "Come on. You can go clean your face, and then we'll get back to the party. They're probably wondering where we are anyway."
They weren't. And Rachel would have rather spent the rest of the night with Quinn on that tiny staircase that no one seemed to care about. She felt broken. Admitting out loud that her life was not going the way she wanted was supposed to relieve her of her burdens. Or it was supposed to feel that way anyhow. But now she just felt worse and she had to go downstairs and pretend everything was fine. No one noticed something was wrong, and if they did, they didn't bother saying anything. They just gave her a very specific look. Rachel was sick of that look. It was her fathers' default faces now. She had to see it on Kurt every single day. Mercedes, Sam, Santana, even Puck all had it.
And Quinn. She had that look too. But she also had another one whenever Finn was the topic of discussion. One that wasn't sad exactly. Just resigned. Rachel recognized what it was now. That brief flicker of emotion in her eyes that appeared every single time before it went away and she said everything Rachel wanted her to say. It wasn't there tonight. Maybe there was something to be said about honesty. Because Quinn looked–
Quinn was…
Quinn had feelings for her. A part of her was willing to believe that now. And it hurt. Just like everything else, it hurt. Because there really wasn't anything to do with that information, was there? There should have been. This mattered. She should have seen it before. She should have listened months ago. Years ago. Maybe then everything would have been different. But it was too late for that. The past couldn't change. It was fruitless.
It wasn't a problem like Rachel feared it would be. Once they got back to their respective lives, Quinn and Rachel shared the same regular calls and emails as they had since moving to the east coast. Thanksgiving was never brought up directly. Quinn never asked her what she planned on doing about her life and marriage. She'd instead ask about NYADA and reiterate how great Rachel's future was going to be. This wasn't new. Quinn had told her all this before in one variation or another, and Rachel had said as much to her in return. There was only one, subtle difference.
Quinn no longer mentioned Finn at all if Rachel didn't bring him up first, which was becoming more and more rare. When they talked it was almost like she could pretend that she wasn't someone's wife at eighteen. She was just like any other college student trying to make her dreams come true in New York. With Quinn, Finn did not have to exist.
It wasn't fair, not in any conceivable way, but it was so very easy. It was so easy to separate them; to separate who she was at home and who she was when she was talking to Quinn.
And Rachel yielded to that.
Finn would not be getting a Christmas bonus this year, but he would be getting a small raise and better benefits come January. He was also being sent to a couple of night classes for a month to learn about the advancement of the newest technology in future vehicles. It was the first time Finn was truly excited about something outside of their marriage since Nationals. Kurt was thrilled for him, and Burt was already promising to pick his brain. This was something Finn had accomplished all on his own without any help from her, and she should be proud. Was proud. But she couldn't shake the knowledge that Finn was settling and that wasn't what she wanted for either of them.
It probably didn't help that this was all coming on the heels of the news that after only recently making the move to LA, Santana was already getting cast in local commercials because, apparently, she was still set on being famous. She didn't know how to deal with the idea of Santana becoming a star before she did. Rachel didn't know how to deal with anything and promptly chose not to. Despite exams being right around the corner and her finals portfolio for Music Composition 1 being incomplete, Rachel ran straight to a safe (New) haven. Perhaps it was inconsiderate, but Quinn didn't seem to mind. Probably because Quinn liked her. When Rachel had romantic inclinations for someone, she typically wanted to be around them. Of course, Rachel would also heavily pursue them regardless of the circumstances, and that was where she and Quinn differed. (The irony that Quinn was once one of those circumstances was not lost on her.)
After giving it more thought (to be precise, it had been the only thing on her mind whether she wanted it there or not), Quinn having feelings for her was not entirely unforeseen. Though, it wasn't any less astounding. She wanted to ask how long or how deep they were. She wanted to hear Quinn say it herself. Ideally, she wanted it done in song. Rachel wanted a lot of things. Far too much. Always too much. But she had Finn and they would be fine. Better than fine. This raise was a positive sign of things to come.
Hypotheticals were dangerous, and she had been falling into their trap far too often.
"You realize I will actually need to read these notes."
She continued her doodles in Quinn's notebook. "But not the margins."
They sat side by side on the floor, leaning against Quinn's bed. Even with her small stature, Rachel's stretched out legs nearly reached the bed opposite them. The room was not worth the price of admission.
"Rachel, you came here to finish your songs because, and I quote, surely a centuries-old Ivy League campus responsible for so many great minds would spew forth your academia prowess."
"My creative prowess, but yes. However, clearly I was wrong because these are not coming along any more here than they were in New York. Writing songs is difficult when you have everything you want. Contentment isn't exactly a strong selling point."
"It's just assignment. Why don't you use other people's lives and experiences?"
"That might work," she mused and turned to Quinn with her brightest smile. "Can I use yours?"
"No."
She sat back again and pouted. "Why we don't know any interesting people?" This was troubling.
And yes, fine. She could be writing about Quinn's newly acknowledged feelings for her. It's not like Rachel hadn't tried. This was most definitely something in worth of lyrics. Except nothing really rhymed with unrequited, so mostly Rachel usually ended up making a list of some of her past interactions with Quinn and tried to find any possible romantic ulterior motives behind them. So far she was certain of four. "Maybe I'll just write the music now and worry about the lyrics later."
"Finn could probably help you with that." It was the first time Quinn had uttered his name in a while. It threw Rachel to hear it and caused a noticeably delayed–albeit adequate–response.
"True. I have enjoyed his original work. But he'd probably be too tired after work which means we'd have to wait until the weekend except these are due this week. I just don't have the time."
"Well no, actually you kind of have the time right now."
Rachel frowned. "But I'm here."
"Yeah, and you don't need to be," Quinn told her slowly.
Her frown turned to one of concern. "Do you want me to leave?"
"No, of course not. I love when you visit, but I thought maybe you'd like to spend this time with Finn. Maybe talk to him."
"I'm with Finn every day. I barely get to see you. And besides, he gets to see his friends when I come here. It's…balanced."
"Good." Quinn nodded, and if she had just stopped this conversation there, it would have been fine and the Finn-slip forgotten. "But it didn't seem very balanced at Thanksgiving."
"Can we not do this?"
"I think you need to talk with Finn about what was upsetting you."
"I wasn't. There's–there's nothing wrong. I'll admit that I had been drinking and seeing everyone together again brought this wave of nostalgia back from when everything was easy. Because it's always easier to dream than it is to live out. Everything can't be perfect. That's all it was. I promise."
"If you say so. I'm sure Lima does that to a lot of people." Quinn shook it off and returned to her notes. "It's none of my business anyway. I'm sorry I even brought it up." She didn't sound sorry at all, didn't even try to. It was more than a bit belittling.
"Don't. Don't do that, okay? Don't pretend to believe me just because you think it's what I want to hear."
"Then what do you want to hear? Because I just told you what I really thought and you weren't okay with that either. I'm trying to be your friend."
"How about we just don't talk about it? Quinn, I appreciate your support, but it's my life. And I'm happy in it." Quinn's lack of response made it clear that she didn't believe that one either, and Rachel suddenly felt the need to be anywhere but in this overpriced dormitory. "It's still early. Maybe I should go home. Finn might actually be of assistance." She hastily stuffed her own notes in the bag she had brought with her and pulled herself up, fully intent on leaving via the perfect storm out.
Quinn tossed aside her books and stood right up after her. "Would you sit down? There's not a train to New York for an hour."
"You don't know that."
"Please. I always check the schedules when you're here," she told her as if that was the most obvious thing in the world to do. It was all so frustrating. Why must she continue making everything so complicated?
Rachel didn't contemplate the answer and tried instead to prove Quinn's schedule keeping wrong. Her phone seemed to be on the blonde's side. There was, indeed, no train for another seventy minutes. Damn it.
"Fine. Then I guess I'll be your guest for another hour. I'll try not to disturb your note taking. I understand that my presence is a burden that you'd rather have gone which I have to say puts a damper on the surprise I had planned."
"That's not–when did I say that?" she snapped, but the rest of Rachel's statement caught up with her and her anger cleared. "Wait. Surprise?"
"Yes. I had gotten you something. Both of us, actually. Perhaps with the holidays upon us I was infected with December joy. My plan was to give it to you when we said goodbye at the station, but you can just forget about that now. The right mood is gone."
"What did you get me?"
She folded her arms and held up her chin. "No, I'm no longer inclined."
"If you weren't inclined, you wouldn't have mentioned it."
She scrutinized Rachel from head to toe, looking very much like a former head cheerio. Always ready to thwart an opponent, Rachel threw her bag at the other girl in surprise, already having snuck out what was important. But Quinn had caught the flash of white now hiding behind her back.
"What's in the envelope, Rachel?"
"It's not an envelope."
"I just saw it."
"You're mistaken."
"Really? Prove it. Show me."
"I'm not responsible for you needing your eyes checked. And really, Quinn, eye prescriptions should be regulated as often as you would for medication. They do expire."
Said eyes rolled lazily. "Okay, hand it over."
"No." She dodged as Quinn lunged, laughing as she barely made it around her. "Why is your dorm so small?"
"Is it a card? A little early for Christmas cards, and you'd just mail it anyway," Quinn continued her thought process aloud. "Your birthday's in a couple of days. You are the only person I've ever met who would send out cards for their own birthday."
Rachel laughed again. "Well, now I'm really not going to show you."
Quinn didn't laugh with her, only smirked at their positions. She had Rachel trapped in between herself and the dressers on the far wall. There was something predatory in her stance. Quinn exuded confidence like she knew that she was going to win this and get what she wanted. They hadn't done this dance in a while. It was oddly unfamiliar given the amount of time they used to spend doing it. Lacking a defense left her open for attack, and Quinn was on her in a second.
After fainting left then right and getting nowhere, she backed her up farther and reached around behind her to grab ahold of the envelope. In truth it would have been easy to twist away and maybe even gain the upper hand. However, Rachel put up no fight and stopped moving all together. The absence of action seemed to throw Quinn if her now nervous expression was anything to go by. They shared each other's space, and Rachel silently counted out her breaths.
Quinn was so close. She wondered what it would be like to kiss her. To just lean forward and close that insignificant amount of distance. Undoubtedly a pleasant experience. Rachel hadn't kissed anyone other than Finn in years, and now she never would. The thought used to be romantic. But Quinn let go of the envelope and was backing away before she could get herself in anymore trouble.
"Sorry."
Rachel cleared her throat and brought her arm out in front of her. Clutching the paper in her hands seemed like a very wise thing to be doing. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but our Metro North passes expire in a few weeks. I took the liberty of purchasing them for this semester."
"You didn't have to do that."
"Neither did you." She shrugged. "I want us to stay in each other's lives, and I think it's only fair that we both put in the time and money so no one feels indebted. I propose that we take turns for the next three years." Rachel removed the pass and very deliberately held on to a corner. It meant Quinn could only touch the ticket if she so choose.
Quinn's fingers grazed hers as she took the gift. "You're on."
This would all have to be a secret. Rachel had been putting aside her money here and there to buy the tickets. It was dishonest, irresponsible, and more than slightly selfish. She didn't really feel bad.
Rachel Berry(-Hudson) closed out her first semester in college by performing for an audience at NYADA's Winter Showcase and winning it. It was a prelude to what she knew was coming down the road, and it was only made better by Kurt receiving his acceptance for the spring semester.
Everyone from New Directions, past and present, sent along their congratulations. Burt and Carole called next to express their pride over their speaker phone. Rachel had no idea how her in-laws were going to pay for NYADA's tuition on top of helping pay their rent, but she was too happy to care. Kurt was going to be at NYADA with her! Together they would be unstoppable for the next three and a half years, and it would all conclude with them breaking into the business. If McKinley could see them now.
Kurt excused himself to take Blaine's call, and Rachel was forced to face an oddly quiet Finn. He was as dejected as she could ever remember seeing him so she once again tried to talk to him about enrolling into a school of his own. Finn would do wonderfully in college. He wouldn't have the same social pressures to be popular as he did in high school and could take the classes of his choice; ones that he could even excel in. But Finn didn't want to hear any of this and ended the discussion by leaving the apartment.
She had no idea what she kept doing wrong.
The distance between them remained throughout winter break. The worst part wasn't that she and Finn no longer cared enough to try and work through it. That hadn't been true in some time. No, the worst part was that they didn't even pretend everything was alright anymore. Kurt had noticed the rift and had talked to them both about it to no avail. Before they could even begin to address it, the holidays were upon them and their parents decided they would come for an early visit. Hiram and Carole wanted to see the loft they were helping to pay for, and Burt and Leroy wanted to see the improvements in person.
Finn had been upset that they weren't going back home again, and Rachel felt it was obvious to all that something was amiss, but the families shared a pleasant early holiday dinner together. Particularly since their parents, preordered catering for the event. After giving gifts and singing seasonal songs, the adults flew back home and the loft reentered into its same old routine. No one was happier for it, and with Finn at work for most of their break, Rachel and Kurt had a lot of time alone together. Kurt proposed that they try and turn this around and bring a little cheer just in time for the year to end. Rachel immediately agreed to his plan, and they waited for they felt was the perfect time before asking Finn.
"That seems kinda, I don't know, excessive." Finn put his cereal bowl in sink and looked over to where his roommates were standing together at their kitchen counter.
"How? It's just one party. Not even that big of one."
"Because I don't work to throw parties, Rachel. My pay check is for, you know, electricity and stuff. Using that for a party…it's not smart."
Rachel sighed. She knew what he paid for, but this wasn't going to bankrupt them. It wouldn't kill Finn to drop his responsibilities for a night. "I know how to manage money, Finn. This fits into our monthly budget." She held up their flat's Budget and Receipts Folder for emphasis.
"I don't really think you do," he muttered.
"What does that mean?" Seriously. Their budget plan–that she wrote alone, mind you– proved she knew what she was doing. How dare he?
"It means you don't have a job. Your bank account just gets an allowance every month from your dads."
"Which I use to buy our food with. And I do the shopping. Do you know how hard it is to grocery shop in this city, Finn? I once had to hit a woman with a baguette just so I could get your specified flavor of Pop-Tarts before they went out of stock."
Kurt crossed the kitchen to get between them. "Okay, okay. Let's stop now before this becomes a contribution contest. We all pull our weight."
"We can't afford a party. Not that and each other's Christmas gifts." Finn cast a glance at his wife. "Sorry, holiday gifts. And buy our normal share of food. Why can't we just go out on New Year's? I'm sure that's even free." He grinned.
Kurt didn't bite, wiping the smile from his brother's face. "Because this is our first year away from home, and we should celebrate that. This apartment is huge given our location. We clean it up a bit, decorate, get the right music…People won't forget that. And I would like to make a good first impression on my fellow NYADA students. I won't get an orientation, not like Rachel had. This party will be a great place to meet people so I don't walk in there blindly."
"Yes, and you can invite your friends too. I'm sure I speak for Kurt when I say how nice it will be to finally meet them," Rachel pitched.
They both watched, hopeful, as Finn began to cave. "I'm not saying it wouldn't be fun, it's just-"
"Finances," Kurt interrupted. "So why not make it a Bring-Your-Own-Everything party? We'll provide cups and napkins and plates and the rest of the goodies, and our guests can bring food and drinks. I'll be sure to stipulate on the invitations."
Finn smiled once more. "Okay, fine. But you guys can rework the budget plan yourselves."
"Deal." Kurt walked back to the counter and pulled out his laptop next to Rachel. "I'll get started on the evites. I plan on pestering Mercedes until she and her ill-fated roommates agree to come. Hopefully, a few of our favorite McKinleyites can make it too. Did you want to call Quinn and just fill her in? It seems impersonal to just send her a standard invitation seeing as how often you two visit."
She and Quinn hadn't really talked since Rachel's last visit. At first it was due to struggling through their finals, but even after they finished them, Rachel was still too nervous to pick up her phone and call. Every hypothetical conversation she planned out between them resulted in her rambling too much and Quinn hanging up after telling her that this entire relationship had been a mistake. But she couldn't very well share any of this with Kurt, and an evite might send the wrong message and then Quinn might not even come.
"No, I'll call her."
"Great. This is going to be so much fun. I feel like hyperventilating." Rachel laughed with him and headed toward her room until Kurt spoke again. "And make sure to tell her that she can bring someone. It's New Years. I'm sure she'll have a date."
Right. Well that wasn't going to happen.
She went into her bedroom for privacy and to check the time. Ignoring all the while that this was not a conversation that required privacy, she was relieved by the fact that Quinn would at least be at work right now. She would get her voicemail and leave a quick message going over the details, and then Quinn would just text back her RSVP later. Painless. Like ripping off a band aid. One problem. Quinn picked up on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"Quinn? Shouldn't you be at work? You know, just because college offers more freedom and doesn't particularly focus on the individual student doesn't mean it's okay to simply not attend to your duties. I don't even think it's fair when the teachers do that. No one is paying an absurd amount of money to master their future livelihoods via a TA. Of course, maybe that only applies to drunken dance instructors. I'm sure Ivy Leagues are much different."
"I take it you don't like your TA?"
"No, he's…" Handsome. Talented. A catalyst for Finn's jealousy. "Where are you?"
"The library. I'm not ditching. Scout's honor." She was being sarcastic, but Rachel still felt guilty about her impromptu timing.
"I'm interrupting, aren't I? I don't want to get you fired from your job. Let me just call back and leave a message."
"Rachel, relax. I was falling asleep anyway. It's break. No one but some creep who likes to hang out in the anatomy section is here. What's up?"
"Kurt and I, um, and Finn are throwing a New Year's Eve party at the loft. A lot of people from school and work and maybe even home will be there, and we were hoping if it doesn't conflict with your schedule, that you'd like to come too."
"Sure. It sounds fun."
"Great. Okay. It's a BYOEverything because, well, we don't have any money, but there's no pressure to contribute. A-and you can come early if you want. I'm confident that if you decided to take a night train on New Year's that I'd be texting you every five minutes to know that you haven't been kidnapped into some human trafficking ring. It really wouldn't be pleasant."
Quinn chuckled. "No night trains. Got it."
No one from McKinley came on New Year's which did not surprise her. She already knew Sam was in Kentucky with his family until the end of break, and truthfully, the only glee clubber Rachel had been expecting was Blaine. However, he and Kurt both thought it would be too awkward. Conversely, Mike was the only graduate who could not make it. He had already made plans to spend the weekend with his parents in Chicago. But their west coast friends were all able to fly out and help make their first BYOE Bash a success.
More people ended up coming from the city than had been anticipated (or invited), and most had all diligently brought something with to the point of leftovers. Rachel had chosen wisely on whom to ask from NYADA, choosing classmates she knew would hit it off with Kurt. So far they seemed to be getting acquainted well enough, and Rachel took enough pride in her taste that she could ignore the fact that several of her classmates were rather liberal in their definitions of 'everything.' Not only did they bring party supplies, they had also brought along their own guests.
Finn's work friends did not necessarily mix well with hers, but they were pleasant company. Rachel was happy to finally be able to put faces to the names. She met Keith and Santos, two of the mechanics nearest to Finn's age. Kenny was middle-aged and thus not in attendance, but his son Pete was graduating high school in May and was the closest friend Finn has made. They had plenty in common, and Pete kept repeating all the great things Finn had said to them about her. They all then told her lighthearted stories of Finn's mishaps in hopes of embarrassing him. Rachel joined in the teasing, succeeding in making her husband's cheeks redden.
This should be enough, and there was something very wrong that it wasn't. Especially because this was the happiest Finn had ever been in New York. Rachel basked in that knowledge and the love she's always had for him to try and make this night work. They kissed at midnight, and she laughed as she tugged on his silly party hat. It was easy and romantic until one of her overly dramatic scene partners from Theatre Studies 1 reminded everyone that how you spend New Year's is how you'll spend the next year. She supposed it could have been taken as a compliment on their party, but that was not how she heard it. She needed to get out of here. And more than that, she needed to talk to Quinn.
Rachel waited a good half hour after the countdown for the perfect moment. The party was still going strong, and Quinn was currently tucked away in a corner, gabbing with Mercedes. With a deep breath, Rachel put on her best showface and approached the duo.
"Hello, Mercedes. I feel like I haven't even seen you at all tonight. We need to catch up sometime before you fly back home. But I assume that since you're here and wearing such bright and pleasing colors that Los Angeles is still working out well for you? That's absolutely wonderful. Kurt was just looking for you, it seemed important. Drastic, really."
"Nice to see you too, Rachel," Mercedes grunted and glanced over at Quinn. "Later."
Rachel watched their friend walk over to Kurt's vicinity before turning back around. "Are you having a good time, Quinn?"
"Yeah, it's surprisingly nice seeing everyone."
"Uh-huh. Do you want to maybe take a walk with me? I could use the air. Playing hostess to a crowd this size is not what I'm accustomed to. Though, I feel like I've done a sufficient enough job."
"Let me get my coat." She chuckled and set down her cup. Rachel simply glowered.
Will she ever again have a significant exchange without those overly common cups being present? They weren't even environmentally friendly. Why did she even buy them? What is it with these cups?
She may have been having a minor panic attack. And she may have lost it completely when Quinn brought back not only her own coat but Rachel's as well. She pulled her hair out of her collar as Quinn helped put it on and tried desperately to get her heart rate under control. This was going to happen.
This was going to happen right now.
They tossed quick goodbyes over their shoulders to Kurt and Mercedes in the kitchen, telling them that they'd be right back. The old pair of friends was too engrossed with something Santana was drinking to respond with anything more than a glance and wave. The girls made their way downstairs where the music was drowned out by the neighbors' mutual gatherings.
"So are you going to tell me where we're going or is it meant to be a surprise?" Quinn asked. She was joking. It would be easy to banter back. They did that now, sometimes, but Rachel gave no response; only stopped them before they reached the exit. "Rachel?" Quinn looked back.
She quickly shook off the concern. "I'm fine."
"You sure? We don't have to," Quinn trailed off and gestured back to the main door until she was being pulled down a dark, empty corridor that led somewhere near the building's furnace.
"I'm sure." She was uncertain which one of them she was assuring or what she was even referring to. Rachel just knew that she wanted this.
She stopped them again at the end of the bricked hallway and tugged the other girl closer. Quinn got one of those adorably confused frowns on her face that really had no right being attractive, and that was the final straw.
"Wait-"
Rachel did what she did best in their relationship and chose not to listen. Quinn responded to the kiss automatically but only for a moment, and then she was pushing the shorter girl away. Quinn took a few shaky paces back and held a hand up to her mouth, looking thoroughly disconcerted.
"I'm just going to assume that you've been drinking, and then we'll never ever talk about this again." The hand that was just on her mouth punctuated out each word, making her warning clear. But Rachel was long past the point of warnings and did not flinch. She merely stared until Quinn was close to panicking herself. "Please come back upstairs. You need go back upstairs."
"I don't want to be upstairs." It was quite possibly the most honest thing she had said in a year.
Quinn sighed as she moved to lean against the wall, careful to only place one hand on it. The resistance was deliberate but flimsy, and it motivated Rachel enough to keep moving forward. She tucked herself snuggly between her friend and the wall, allowing her lips to brush Quinn's throat. She was so grateful Quinn didn't put on her scarf.
"Rachel." It was now a sad excuse for a warning, and Rachel had no qualms about softly nipping at the smooth flesh in front of her. She felt the whimper and barely had time to register Quinn shoving her away far more harshly than she did moments ago.
Rachel caught her footing and watched as Quinn collapsed flatly against the bricks. Watched her chest rise and fall, her eyes blink open and closed. The desire that flashed in them was palpable, and the aching look that chased it away was so familiar and so Quinn that Rachel almost wanted to call the whole thing off to cry whilst writing an MVP worthy ballad. God, she owed Santana a batch of apology cookies. Quinn Fabray was so in love with her. She had no idea what she did to earn such a precious keepsake.
Reaching out tentatively, she brushed back wispy, blonde bangs. Quinn evened out her breathing and lifting a hand of her own, cupped Rachel's neck as she pushed back off the wall. Her kiss was bruising and ravenous, and Rachel felt wanted enough that she forgot everything else.