A/N: This is not good writing. This is just words transitioned from my head to my monitor.
Rachel rushed right to Quinn's bedside after the crash, and didn't go home for the night like everyone else. The hospital staff were prepared to kick her out, but ultimately Judy stepped in and allowed her to spend the night.
She never left Quinn's side for a week. She skipped school, meals, and hygiene in the hopes that she would be the first thing Quinn saw when she woke up.
One night, when Rachel drifts off clutching Quinn's hand, she's pleasantly surprised to discover that she's not trapped in her recent recurring nightmare of a smashed Volkswagen bug and an angry red smear on I-75.
She's in complete blackness, except for a distant light that is suspended from the heavens. As she draws nearer, she hears suspiciously familiar music.
"I'm limited…"
She knows that voice. She would know it anywhere, even when she hasn't been subjected to its melodic lilt for seven days now.
Rachel is close enough to get a good look at Quinn now. Her leg isn't sticking out at that odd angle, and there aren't any marks on her skin. She's just as radiant as she's ever been, if not more so.
The intro fades and on impulse, Rachel picks up the first verse. It's funny because she always figured that Quinn would the Glinda to her Elphaba and not vice versa, but she supposes that times have changed. Rachel walks in a slow circle around Quinn's spotlight, never looking up from her feet as she gets her way through the first verse and chorus. She finally looks up when she sings "but because I knew you, I have been changed for good." Quinn is staring at her. Her hazel eyes seem dimmer, and the smile that's tugging at her lips looks anything but happy.
"It well may be that we will never meet again," Quinn starts, and something inside of Rachel breaks. A sob looses itself from her body. Quinn looks up, startled, but continues singing as if she is a record spitting out a pre-recorded track. Still, she offers her hand and Rachel desperately entwines their fingers.
Quinn's fingers seem to shoot courage into her body. It flows through her entire being and lets her put aside every other emotion to focus on performing. They make it through most of the song without incident, though when they near the final "because I knew you," Quinn turns Rachel to face her - "I have been changed for good" - and pulls her into a bone-crushing hug.
The music fades out of the nothingness from whence it came, so there is nothing to disguise Rachel's renewed, heavy flow of sobs. Quinn runs her hand comfortingly up and down Rachel's back, and Rachel wonders to herself why she never tried this with Quinn before. She's not sure why she's so sad - this is a dream, she's aware of it now, so nothing that happens here is real. But she's never liked goodbyes, and this feels a bit too final for her.
Quinn pulls back. There are tears streaming down her face as well, but her face isn't an ugly red like Rachel is sure that her own is. It figures that she would still be gorgeous even when she's crying. "Shhhhh." Slowly, Quinn brings her thumb up to wipe the tears from Rachel's left eye. "Pretty girls shouldn't cry." All of a sudden, Quinn's lips are on Rachel's. It's only for a brief moment and then her face is pressed against Rachel's, cheek to cheek. "Hold out, if you can," she whispers into her ear. She kisses her again. It's a little longer so Rachel knows to react this time, but it's also oddly bittersweet.
Their bodies disentangle and Quinn smiles that sad smile at her again. "I'm so proud of you. I want you to know that. I'm not sure that you ever knew." She grasps for her hand again. Rachel doesn't have the heart to grasp back. "And Rachel? I don't blame you. I don't blame you, so you shouldn't blame yourself."
She gives her hand one last squeeze before walking backwards into the darkness. "I'll be waiting. Don't forget, okay?"
And then she's gone. Rachel snaps forward, out of her trance, and starts sprinting in the direction that Quinn left. It's dark and she can't see, and suddenly there's this coldness that envelopes her as a shrill sound breaks through the air…
She wakes to the flatline of Quinn's heart monitor.