Alright, so Ashes & Wine originally started out as a oneshot. But after the positive response I got from the first one, I decided to turn it into a collection of oneshots. Some are connected, some aren't, but hopefully that's made clear enough. This is mostly just a place where I can lay out some plot bunnies that float around in my head and where I can try out some new stuff. For the time being, it's mostly about Sam & Quinn, but there may be some friendship-centric fics in the future, so who knows.
I'm also resubmitting this chapter, so I'm not quite sure how it works with all the reviews. So if your reviews are erased, I'm so sorry - it wasn't me that deleted them! :P Anyway, on to this fic.
SUMMARY: Quinn and the rest of the New Directions return to Lima after two years away at college. Sam brings along an unexpected guest. Can be read as a stand-alone.
Please read & review! :) Xoxo.
1. The Pain
It hurts.
She doesn't expect it to come in waves of pain, either. She thinks it's just when she finds out that Mercedes dumped Shane for Sam, but when she sees them walking hand in hand down the hallway…it's like getting hit by a truck, like she can't breathe. She feels the tears coming and she feels her shoulders shaking, but she pushes it all away. She wants to run, get out of school and never come back, but she doesn't, because…well, she's fucking Quinn Fabray. She's come too far, gone through too much to let some stupid ex-boyfriend and his current girlfriend mess things up for her.
At least, that's what she tells everybody else.
And it's literally the only thing she repeats to herself the whole day, even when she sits in Glee club, listening to Rachel drone on and on about some idea she has for Regionals – a number which obviously, puts her in the spotlight. But then Mercedes is suddenly at the front of the class, talking about love and how unexpected it is and before Quinn can even try and escape, the self-proclaimed diva launches into a version of Carrie Underwood's 'Some Hearts.' As much as Quinn loves Mercedes' voice, she can't help but cringe. It's a country song. And then Mercedes make eye contact with Sam and he just fucking grins back at her…it's downright horrifying. Quinn immediately hates it - hates the song, hates the arrangement, hates the way Sam is looking up at Mercedes with big, bright, green eyes…it's despicable.
And yeah, it hurts.
Some hearts just get lucky sometimes…
He doesn't stop talking to her, though.
That's the thing about Sam. No matter what, he's never the one to abandon you. Unless you cheat on him, like Quinn did in junior year, but that's beside the point. Because even after their breakup, they managed to stay friendly and even grew closer during his family's hard times. And ever since Finn and Rachel brought him back to McKinley, he's been checking in on Quinn every once in a while, making sure she doesn't go back to being the crazy psycho girl who wants to murder Shelby and take Beth for herself. It's nice, having Sam there to help her pick up the pieces. It reminds her of the person she wants to be, the person she could be.
"Hey," he says, sidles up to her and leans against the lockers, his bangs falling into his eyes. Quinn wants to reach up and brush them away, like she used to, but she keeps her hands busy.
"Hi," she replies, hesitant to say anything else. She's on edge; she's always on edge around him now. She doesn't want to say the wrong thing, doesn't want him to think she still misses him. Because even though they're still friends and they still talk, it's different now that he's got Mercedes. She's used to flirting and teasing and smirking, but she can't do that with Mercedes in the picture. Like it or not, it changes everything.
"We should hang out sometime," his voice is dreamlike and he's staring off into nothing, but she knows he feels her eyes on him.
"What?"
"Y'know, just the two of us. We could watch Avatar," his green eyes light up and Quinn groans because Avatar is just so damn long and full of blue people and doesn't he have a girlfriend for this stuff?
"Ask Mercedes to watch it with you," she says, careful to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
"She doesn't really get it. And she says it's too long," Sam whines, turning to face Quinn. His eyes are bright and sparkling, like he's a little kid begging for ice cream, and his lips are curled into a mischievous smile and he looks so damn adorable that Quinn nearly gives in.
But she stops herself because she doesn't know what could happen. This whole "Sam and Quinn hanging out alone" isn't a foreign idea, at least. They used to have movie marathons and junk food binges at her house whenever he needed a relief from Finn and Kurt's. But Mercedes is in the picture now and Quinn knows that - she's aware of that this time. She's not going to even tempt herself with the possibility of Sam, so she just looks up at him, trying to hide the hurt in her eyes. He's busy explaining the differences between Star Wars and Star Trek, but Quinn cuts him off.
"Ask Mercedes to watch it with you,"
She says it in a friendly way, like she's giving him advice and she knows it goes through Sam's thick skull, because his eyes widen in realization. She just closes her locker and walks away, giving him a brief smile. She's proud of herself. If it had been junior year Quinn, she would've accepted Sam's invitation and probably would have tried to find some way to kiss him. So yeah, she's really thankful that she's grown up the past year and that she knows not to put herself in a place where she could hurt herself and other people.
Quinn makes it all the way to her car and out of the school parking lot before she bursts into tears.
Being proud hurts.
Joe Hart asks her to prom.
She doesn't even know him that well, except from meetings with The God Squad, which she stopped going to after Mercedes and Sam started dating. But Joe is nice and sweet and he's just a sophomore, so Quinn knows he's not going to try anything.
So she says yes.
Prom is a million times better than last year. She's done obsessing over that stupid crown and she doesn't need to beat Rachel at anything and she doesn't need to keep a close eye on Finn. Instead, Quinn spends her night dancing with her closest friends. They announce prom candidates and even though she didn't campaign this year, her name is called out, so she scurries up to the stage and stands in between Tina and Santana. She sneaks a peek at the boy candidates and her heart does that involuntary twisty thing when she sees Sam, standing there all awkward and handsome in his three-piece suit. She briefly wonders how he got the money for it, but figures Kurt and Finn probably chipped in.
She also notices that Mercedes isn't nominated.
She tries not to smile too hard at that, because when it comes down to it, Mercedes did take her in when she was pregnant and the girl has always been a great friend to Quinn. Still, it's the little things like this that make her slightly relieved, these moments when she catches Sam by himself. Because lately, Sam and Mercedes have been more attached at the hip than usual and they're talking less and less and Quinn just feels really left out of the whole thing, even if she knows she's not a part of it in the first place. Oh, they're still friends, but somehow, it's just not the same anymore.
Quinn's not expecting her name to be called and it isn't, so she just claps and cheers happily as Figgins places the sparkly piece of plastic on top of Tina and Mike's heads. They dance the night away and she's just the happiest she's ever been since the whole Shelby/Puck/Beth drama. She twirls in her pretty dress, saves dances for Puck and Joe, shakes her hips with her Santana and Brittany.
"Can I get a dance?" the voice comes out of nowhere, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she expects it. She turns around, faces him with a smile, and laces her fingers at the back of his neck, pulling him in close enough.
"Hey, Sam,"
"You look beautiful tonight, by the way," he mumbles lazily. His lips are dangerously close and Quinn can feel his breath on her neck and it's making her shiver in all the right places.
"Thanks. You look handsome," she replies out of courtesy.
"How are things going with Teen Jesus?" he asks and Quinn bites her lip, trying not to laugh at Joe's nickname, but it's just ironic because he really is like Teen Jesus, though. If Jesus ever rocked the dreadlocks look, that is.
"He's just my date," she giggles.
"Looks like he wants to be something more," Sam's voice isn't threatening and it's not mean in any way, but Quinn notices there's a slight edge to it. Like there's a scowl to his tone of voice, some form of disapproval. She doesn't let herself think it though, not even for a second, because really, she can't afford to get her hopes up about him anymore. So she pulls back a little, searches for something in those green eyes of his.
It makes Quinn so confused. Why is he doing this? Why is he acting protective and jealous when he's dating someone else? She tries to reason it, tells herself that Sam's just looking out for her, like he always does. Like a friend does. But he pulls her in closer, squeezes her hand tighter, runs his thumb up and down her back for a short second. The song is over before she can say anything back to him and just like that, he drops an unexpected kiss on her forehead and leaves the dance floor. Quinn stands there, dumbfounded and completely blindsided because…well, what the fuck just happened? That wasn't friendly, that wasn't some platonic warning to stay away from the sophomore with the dreadlocks – that felt like jealousy and protectiveness and want.
Quinn stares at the spot where Sam stood, before she realizes she needs to get her feet moving off the dance floor, or else people are going to think she's gone mental. The truth is, she does feel a little crazy. Like the world is just spinning and tilting and it gets too much, so she immediately decides she needs some fresh air. She runs past Finn and Rachel, ignores Joe completely, and sidesteps Artie and Sugar without an explanation. But when she finally pushes open the doors and feels the cool night air hit her shoulders, it's like being doused with cold water.
Because Sam and Mercedes are there, sitting on the school steps, holding hands and touching foreheads and exchanging sweet kisses and it takes Quinn all her strength not to just throw up or start screaming right then and there.
Yeah, that definitely hurts.
Sam and Mercedes break up.
Quinn finds out right after a meeting with her English teacher about her final paper. She's walking towards her car, thinking about how she can't wait to get out of Lima, when she spots Mercedes a couple of feet away, standing over a trashcan and tossing in pictures, one by one. Curiosity gets the best of her and she walks over to her friend, but it's only when she sees who the pictures are of that Quinn wishes she never made the effort to see what was wrong.
"We broke up," Mercedes is calm, collected, and blasé. There's a tinge of sadness in her voice, but it's bittersweet, as if she knows it was coming all along. Quinn just stares at the discarded pictures in disbelief because honestly, when Sam broke up with her (even though it feels like ages ago), Quinn was a downright mess. She had cried, kicked things, thrown things, broken things – she was nowhere as calm as Mercedes is now.
"I'm sorry," she offers her apologies because she's really not sure what else to say. Watching Mercedes throw pictures into a trashcan is sort of disheartening and for some reason, Quinn actually feels guilty. Like it's her fault, somehow. Like she willed the breakup to happen, with all those bad thoughts she's had in her mind about the two of them.
"It's okay. It was a long time coming," Mercedes throws the last picture in – one of Sam in mid-impression – and turns to look at Quinn. "I'm going to New York and he's…he's not," she says it breathlessly, inhaling deeply and then shaking it off, as if she's trying to convince herself that it's right. Quinn recognizes that look all too well.
"Oh,"
They're finally high school graduates.
It's a crazy, surreal feeling and Quinn doesn't know how to describe it, but she's pretty sure it's the best rush in the world. She just can't stop smiling because she did it - she actually graduated with a perfect GPA and she got into Yale and things are finally happening for her. Her mom hugs her and congratulates her and it's the closest she's felt to her mother in years. Quinn takes pictures with everybody, even posing for one with Sam, their heads tilted towards each other, their blonde hair melding into one shade. It's a picture she'll keep for years to come; she knows that even before the flash goes off.
Sugar throws the seniors a celebratory party that night and in true Sugar Motta fashion, it's an absolute rager. Her dad lets her use their house instead of Breadstix and it's spectacular; all red and white decorations with a huge banner that reads, "Congratulations, seniors!" Red cups are everywhere, the music is crazy good, and Quinn is having a really good time. She takes a couple of drinks because fuck it, it's a party and she's done with high school. She stumbles into the kitchen and pours herself another drink, but before she can even take a sip, she's dragged downstairs to play beer pong with a bunch of people. It ends up being her and Tina against Mike and Sam and it's so incredibly useless because they're all wasted before they even started the damn game.
They still manage to beat the boys, though.
Quinn is falling all over the place and she knows she needs to find a place to sit down, but Sugar's house is so big and there are too many rooms, so she opens the first door she finds, checks that it's empty, and lies down on the couch. The room smells of books and leather and it's silent, a nice kind of peaceful quiet for a few minutes. That is, until Quinn hears the door creak open and she flips out, screaming.
"It's me! It's just me!" Sam cries, his hands up in surrender.
"Why are you scaring me?"
"I didn't know you were in here!" he comes closer, sits down next to her, and after a pause, Quinn picks up a pillow and whacks him in the arm.
"There, we're even," she sighs, leaning back against the couch.
"Okay," Sam shrugs. "Hey, you think they have comic books in here?"
"Shut up," Quinn rolls her eyes, but a giggle rises in her throat and she just playfully hits him in the arm again. It's nice, talking to him like this again. Even after the awkward situation at prom (which they never spoke of) and Sam's breakup with Mercedes, Quinn likes the fact that they can still stay friends. Maybe it's a twisted version of a friendship, but for now, it's all she really needs. "I'm sorry about Mercedes," she blurts out. She doesn't know where that comes from, but it needs to be said.
"It's not your fault. Things don't work out," Sam shrugs. "I mean, look at us," he gestures.
"Sam, you and I were different," Quinn says, dreamily. The entire world sort of fades away, melts into this blurry vision of what she once knew. She's really never been this wasted before and she knows Sam hasn't either, because his speech is slurred and his head keeps falling over to one side, like it's struggling to stay up, and it's worse than it was at Rachel's party in junior year. But it's one of those conversations that needs to happen, that can only happen honestly, and if all it takes is Quinn and Sam getting wasted, then so be it.
"Well, we loved each other, right?" his question is harmless, but somewhere in the back of Quinn's mind, a red light goes off. It dims right away when she lets her head fall to the side and sees his face right in front of hers. The last time they were this close was during prom and she can't believe it, because he still makes her feel the same way she did back then.
"Yeah, we did,"
"So how come we didn't work out?" he asks, almost whines. Quinn sighs; because that's the question she asks herself everyday, only to have the same answer slap her in the face.
"Because I cheated. Because I didn't appreciate you," she says in one breath. He looks right at her, eyes wide and trusting, and Quinn automatically feels like she doesn't deserve it. Because that's the truth - she doesn't deserve his forgiveness, she doesn't deserve his friendship, she doesn't deserve him. She's hurt him and she doesn't understand why he doesn't push her away like anybody else would have done.
"But Mercedes didn't cheat and we still didn't work out," Sam points out, confused.
"I know. I just…people screw up sometimes. Our hearts lie to us or whatever," she waves her hand dismissively in the air and Sam grabs it, interlaces their fingers together and she's taken aback because the gesture is so…intimate. He rubs his thumb across the back of her hand, pulls it closer to him, and presses a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist.
"Sorry," he slurs, running a hand through his hair. He takes a big sip out of the cup that sits on the side table. Quinn isn't sure where any of this is going, so she grabs her own cup and throws it back, feeling the vodka burn her throat and numb her thoughts.
"Sam, I…" she doesn't know what to say. It feels good to have his lips against her skin and they're so close, in an empty room, and Quinn would be crazy not to take a chance, right?
Right.
She kisses him, just grabs his face and parts his lips with hers. It's sloppy and misguided because they're both drunk, but it's sweet and sincere and they taste of alcohol. She doesn't even register what she's doing, all she knows is that his hands are all over her body, sending fireworks across her skin, making her feel more alive than she's ever felt before. Her legs are tangled with his and they fall back onto the couch, Sam's arm supporting his weight so he's hovering above her. They don't have time to speak, to ask if it's okay, because all Quinn is aware of right now is the fact that Sam's lips are biting at her neck and then ghosting over her collarbone and she just never wants it to stop. She tugs at his jeans and he pulls off her dress and really, there's no going back now.
They stop talking.
She doesn't know how or why it happens, but truthfully, everything is coming at her so fast that she can't afford to stop and figure it out. Yale is coming, her future is coming, and that's what matters. And with only two more days until she heads off to New Haven, Quinn is busy doing everything else but think about Sam. That is, until Rachel stops by her house to visit.
"He asked about you today," the brunette says, perching herself at the edge of Quinn's bed.
"Yeah?"
"He asked how you were doing. I said you were fine," Rachel glances around the room, noticing the mess that comes with trying to pack your life into several boxes. "You are fine, right?" her voice is tentative, as if she doesn't want to overstep some boundary. Quinn just sighs, places three leather bound books into a box. Is she fine? How the hell is she supposed to know?
She didn't plan on sleeping with her ex-boyfriend the night of her graduation. She didn't plan on waking up in his arms the next day, completely and absolutely content feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath he took. She didn't plan on sneaking out before he could wake up, just so she wouldn't have to break down crying when he opened his eyes.
"Yes, I'm fine," she lies, right through her teeth.
"Okay," Rachel nods once. There's silence in the room, which is usually unheard of any time Rachel Berry is around, but it's a nice kind of quiet. She helps Quinn pack up more of her stuff and then gives her a hug goodbye, tells her she'll be back in the morning.
Quinn watches her leave from her bedroom window, watches Rachel happily get into the car and give Finn a kiss. It makes her heart ache a little, because Rachel is getting the dream she always thought she'd have.
But no, Quinn has new dreams now. Better dreams.
She finishes packing up the rest of her books, shuts the boxes and labels them neatly. Time passes and before she knows it, the sun is setting and she takes a deep breath, fighting back her tears. Quinn never thought she'd say it, but she's going to miss Lima. It's home. It comes back to her in little snippets, like when she's in the middle of pushing a heavy box to the side of the room and she notices a picture of the Glee club she forgot to take down. Quinn just stares at it, her body going numb, when she hears someone clearing their throat behind her. She spins around, scared out of her mind, because her mother is out for the day and nobody else is supposed to be over – besides, Quinn is pretty sure she asked Rachel to lock the front door when she left.
"Um, hey," he looks around the room sheepishly, running a hand over the back of his head and leaning on the doorframe. He's uncomfortable, she can tell.
"What in the…Sam?" she says, a little dumbfounded, because she really didn't expect him to show up.
"The one and only," he shrugs, crosses the room and sits on her window seat.
"What are you doing here?" she doesn't sit next to him. Maybe it's because she's afraid of what might happen, maybe it's because he looks really adorable, but whatever the case is, she just doesn't. She can't let her heart get tied up and twisted, especially not now.
"I can't…I can't let you go without saying goodbye," his eyes are shining bright and he's wringing his hands together nervously.
"Sam, I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow,"
"I know, I just didn't want to say goodbye in front of everybody," he shrugs again, licking his lips. "About graduation night…"
"We don't have to talk about that," she holds up her hand to stop him without missing a beat. She doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to relive it. It's just a bittersweet memory to both of them now and when she looks him in the eye, she knows that it's what he thinks, too.
"Quinn, I'm just trying to say I'm sorry," he huffs a little and she keeps quiet, taking his words in. What does he have to be sorry for? It was one night, one impulsive night. It couldn't have meant something.
"Sam, we were both lonely. And drunk," she explains.
"And totally hot for each other," he adds and Quinn suppresses a giggle. It's enough to make her cross the room and sit next to him, her shoulder touching his.
"That too," she smiles. "But I'm going to Yale and you're going to be in Tennessee. It was one night that we needed each other. And I'm glad it was you and not some stranger," she sees his knuckles turn white and a part of her feels happy that he's still overprotective of her.
"We were good, right?" he turns to face her, his green eyes sad.
"We were perfect together," she murmurs, resting her forehead against his. They stay like that for a few moments, Quinn just relishing the closeness, because even if it's bittersweet, Sam is still the most comfortable human being to be around. She feels safe, loved, and protected with him.
He pulls away first, gets to his feet and pulls her up with him. Quinn lets him crush her against his chest and she breathes him in, committing the way he smells, the way he feels, to memory. When they pull apart, she notices tears falling down his cheeks and then he reaches up to wipe away her own tears – she hadn't even realized she had been crying.
"You're going to do amazing things, Quinn. Yale isn't going to know what hit 'em," he whispers it into her hair, close to her ear, and she chokes back a sob. Somehow, she never thought a goodbye with Sam would be this heartbreaking or this painful.
"Stay in touch, Sam,"
And then he's gone.
And it still really hurts.
