A/N: Okay, yeah, so after Hush (which, by the way, AMAZING RESPONSE. You people. I love you!), I really wanted to write some baby!fic. And it was just going to be stand-alone, but then I felt like it would be good as a tie-in to the latter section of Hush, so here we are. I can never possibly write just straight fluff anyway, so this will be good. For this first part, you are really going to have to have read Hush. It's like not even an option that you don't, because you won't get any of it. I'm counting on a total of four installments, but that could change. This is just a short set-up, and after that it's just going to be some good, old-fashioned baby!fic with some minor angst.
Also, please, please forgive me for the title. It is so cheesy. I was writing this and it was untitled, and then Bright Eyes' Road to Joy came on, and I was like, "FML, I have to do it."
The first year is hard.
When Rachel regains her footing in life and they begin healing together, they are overwhelmed by how vastly everything has changed. There is nothing that hasn't been touched, and memories of times before Eli feel more like past lives that they only barely recall experiencing.
It feels like every beam of light that cracks through the clouds of their grief only illuminates another pile of rubble that they have to sift through. Sometimes they are thankful for this, because they don't think they would know where to start if they had to take in all the damage at once. There is so much to rebuild in the wake of their loss.
They spend the days doing their best to function normally and holding each other up when they feel themselves slipping, and the nights with their bodies pressed tightly together, whispering through tears that everything will be better someday. Neither will say it to the other, but they are both truly terrified that this is their new forever.
The only time they ever even think about having another child is on the rare occasion that they come across someone insensitive enough to suggest that they can just try again, as if a baby is an object they can replace, and not a missing piece of their hearts that will never grow back.
At nine months, when Eli has been gone for as long as he was there, Rachel admits that she doesn't think she wants another baby. Quinn simply nods, kissing away Rachel's tears and silently thanking God that she wasn't the one who had to say it first.
–––––
The second year finds them in a better place, if only slightly.
Rachel still doesn't sleep well, and they're often both awake at three in the morning, thanks to another nightmare. Rachel never tells Quinn what they're about, but she knows. She has them occasionally herself, and sometimes she's already awake when Rachel bolts upright with a gasp. She does her best to feign sleepiness as she pulls Rachel close and strokes her hair, because she can deal with her nightmares on her own. She's had practice.
They know that they will never have their son back, and they know that wounds of this nature never fully heal, and sometimes it's more than they can bear. Sometimes it's enough to keep Rachel in bed all day and set Quinn on the warpath, snapping harshly at anyone who gets too close. For every day that they hold themselves together with strength they didn't know they had, sometimes grief still gets the best of them.
They're not fixed.
However, by eighteen months, they find that there are slightly fewer tears, and occasional moments of genuine laughter. When they're not just getting by, they find themselves actually living. And though their hearts ache every single day, their grief ebbs and flows, and there are moments of respite. Happiness doesn't always feel out of reach.
They're not fixed, and they can never recreate what they had before, but they are working towards building something new.
Rachel throws herself into a new production after over two years away from the stage. Her return is well received, and the stage lights make her heart feel lighter. Quinn is there every night to give her wife a standing ovation, and after the show, they go out to dinner with Rachel's cast or Brittany and Santana, if they feel up to it. If not, they walk home together as soon as Rachel can slip away from the stage door, and they have a quiet dinner alone.
They feel like they're twenty-three and fresh out of college again, and it's enjoyable for the first few months.
It's enjoyable until it's just not.
It's ten in the morning on a Sunday and they're still in bed when Quinn admits that this isn't what she wants anymore.
She's weary at the thought that this is the rest of their lives. She loves the alone time, but she can't stop picturing a future playdates, soccer games, and chaotic dinners around a big table, and Sunday mornings that start at six, not ten. Some days, it's all she thinks about.
She had never been quite as desperate for a child as Rachel at first, but she comforted herself after Beth with the knowledge that she would raise children when she was grown, and she comforted herself after Eli with the knowledge that she would raise children when the time was right. There was a point when she truly believed that it just wasn't mean to be, but now she can't imagine that she will never have another child.
Rachel nods as Quinn is telling her this, and then takes a deep breath. "I don't…I don't know if I'm ready yet," she says softly.
Quinn nods quickly and swallows back the emotion rising in her throat. "I understand," she says. "But maybe…"
"Someday," Rachel smiles, snuggling closer to Quinn and closing her eyes. "Definitely someday."
–––––
The third year is okay. They are okay.
Not a day goes by that they don't imagine what their lives would be like with Eli, and they'd still give anything to have him back, but thinking of him doesn't always bring an unbearable wave of sadness. In fact, they've occasionally found themselves smiling as they muse about what he would look like, who he would take after, or what he might be doing now.
Passing babies and young children on the street is no longer a devastating occurrence. While visiting Lima for the holidays, Rachel holds Artie and Tina's four-month-old for two hours at a Christmas party, and the grin plastered on her face is genuine. Kurt emails them a photo of Rachel cooing at the little one while Quinn looks on with a bright smile, and they stare at it for ages.
They are terrified of losing another child, even though they have been assured that it is unlikely to happen again. They know that they will be on edge for the entire pregnancy, and will probably be helicopter parents. They worry that they're too damaged to raise a child well, and they worry that it will seem like they are trying to replace Eli. They know that another pregnancy will open some wounds and leave things raw at times, and they are sure there will be times when they feel overwhelmed by it all.
But they walk into the doctor's office with their hands clasped tightly together and smiles on their faces, because they're going to give it a try.
They are ready.