Broken Strings
AN: So I know a lot of Q/P shippers who feel deprived of much needed interaction between the parents of baby Beth since his declaration of love last season so I wrote this fic as consolation. Enjoy!
He sits on his flat single bed, back against the window blowing breeze his way in the august night. His shoulders are hunched up and tense form the events of last night. His coarse hands hold his acoustic guitar, the strings a little torn and he sheds tears as he remembers his daughter in a moment of loneliness. He wonders where she is, if she's happy, if settling in with a family he couldn't provide her. He thinks of Quinn and how they've barely spoken since that night in the hospital after she brought Beth into the world, both of them brushing the life changing event as something surreal, as if it didn't even happen.
Let me hold you for the last time
It's the last chance to feel again
But you broke me
Now I can't feel anything
When I love you it's so untrue
I can't even convince myself
When I'm speaking it's the voice of someone else
He strokes the guitar strings and starts to sing. Thank God nobody's here to see him belt out a corny song about heartbreak and dissolution of a relationship that never really began. He's far too badass to be singing this sappy stuff; nobody knows he likes James Morrison anyway so this would totally ruin his rep if someone was standing behind him listening in as he expressed his pain. He's not a guy who often talks about his feelings, he's more the strong silent type, and his actions speak louder than his words can. He's not a guy of words either. He remembers his little girl, all pink and new in that cubicle as her mother looked over at her with a forlorn expression on her face as they signed over the adoption paper to Shelby Corcoran. She was gurgling, asking to be held. He never did get to hold her.
Oh it tears me up
Try to hold on but it hurts too much
Try to forgive but it's not enough to make it all okay
You can't play on broken strings
You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell you something that ain't real
The truth hurts the last words
How can I give you anymore?
When I love you a little less than before
He sighs and rubs his hand over his sweaty Mohawk. This is all so overwhelming. They barely speak now, sometimes they'll cross paths in the hallway or on their way to glee practice, and sometimes their hands would brush against the lunch table of the cafeteria and they would awkward glance away pretending they felt nothing at all as their fingers tingled. It was torture, like an endless doom of silence looming over them everytime they were left remotely alone. What was there to talk about? They had a kid together then they gave her up. Correction. She gave her up. He was so frustrated of always being a disappointment. He got a girl pregnant, housed her and she moves out a month before the due date to live with a supposed friend, then he can't even bring up his daughter cos he's such a fricking loser. He continues to stroke the chords of the guitar, the rhythm the only sound in the room until a sweet voice enters the room and defuses it with a heavenly sound. It's her voice.
What are we doing?
We are turning into dust
Playing house games
To the ruins of us
Running back through fire when there's nothing left to save
It's like chasing the very last when it's too late
His head turns slowly, as they sing together, the lyrics hitting a nerve as shallow tears flow from his taut face and her mask of strength. She was always the ice queen but he always knew how to break down her walls. Her fierce green eyes stare back at him with as much longing as he's been holding since he told her he loved her. They sing the words they can't speak as she steps closer, his fingers playing on the strings of the guitar. She's still glowing majestically in her powder blue prom dress and he's still boiling in his white suit jacket. He breathes out, taking her in as she offers a weak smile; he takes off his jacket and unbuttons his collar. She gingerly takes a seat in the spot on the bed next to him. No words. Silence. There's been a lot of that this year between them. A lot of silence, unspoken conversations.
Oh it tears me up
Try to hold on but it hurts too much
Try to forgive but it's not enough
You can't play on broken strings
You can't feel anything tat your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell you something that ain't real
Truth hurts the last words
How can I give anymore?
When I love you a little less than before
It's Beth's birthday today. This very day, she was born. He knows she probably doesn't remember since she's done such a great job of pretending it never happened, reclaiming her old life of being the queen bee of the school. It seems like she's forgotten a lot of things lately, him included. He grimaces as her pale slender hand edges closer to his bulging arms, an attempt at affection or intimacy, he can't tell. He can't read her so clearly these days. It's like she's been hiding and she's finally ready to come out but maybe it's too late cos he's tired of waiting for her to want him like he wants her. She was the one that got away. He turns his gaze to her and sings the next lyrics passionately, directing them to her. She wipes away a tear from her mascara ridden face. She's all made up but there's nothing to hide.
We're running to the fire when there's nothing left save
It's like chasing the very last train when we both know it's too late
You can play on broken strings
You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell you something that ain't real
Truth hurts the last words
How can I give anymore?
She's clutching onto his arms now as he furiously rings the chords of the last few verses on his guitar, his fingers tired, his mind tired, his eyes tired. He's so fucking tired of pretending it's all okay. That everything's normal and nothing's changed. They were a family. He was a dad. He resists the temptation to ask her if she remembers she's actually a mother too.
When I love you a little less than before
I love you less than before
Let me hold you for the last time
It's the last chance to feel again.
'I miss her,' he whispers into the air, breaking the silence as the song draws to a close. They sit; their hands entwined as she leans on his shoulder and hold her as she cries that night.
'Me too.'