So, diva_off at LJ has been discontinued, which is sad, because it was giving me some great motivation to write, which I sort of need. This is my last fic from over there, a Sam/Quinn offering, because the prompt was perfect and I have a soft spot for these two. So I wrote a little happy fic. It can fall wherever your heart desires in the S2 timeline or beyond.
She thought Sam was different. Of course, she always thought they were different, and they never were. But, God, he'd given her a ring hadn't he, and weathered everything with Finn and Santana and Cheerios and Glee and being involved with her in general. So, when she'd pushed his hand away from her shirt and he'd given a slight pout but otherwise shrugged it off, she thought he'd understood.
But then he'd gotten up quickly, left without a word, and she'd stared at the door for a minute in disbelief. Of course, they'd all done it before, and she uses the phrase of course too much, even inside her own head, because with her, nothing is ever certain except that she will eventually mess things up, no matter how perfect they are.
And she can see them each leaving. Donny, the first boy she ever kissed who she didn't really like but felt obligated to be nice to for a few months afterward, and Jake, with his perfect hair and rich daddy, who was a jerk, although it took Quinn nearly a year to figure out. Then Finn, who was often frustrated with her but loved her despite the fact that she had no idea how to love him back, and Puck, who loved Finn as much as she did and helped her shatter his heart because neither of them really understood how a person's heart works.
And now Sam, who loved her despite the fact that she still hasn't figured out how to take care of a person's heart, not even her own, and a part of her is missing and most of the rest is damaged. Who came in totally clueless of her past and had it all shoved at him rapid fire and loved her anyway. It shouldn't work, but it had, until this moment, when he'd stood up and left his handprint where all the others had as they left her behind.
She's halfway to a good cry when the door opens again and there he is, looking confused and slightly angelic, tears blurring her vision so that his hair catches the light just so. And maybe he is her savior, because he just leaves whatever he's carrying on the bedside table and curls up around her on the bed. And Quinn is captured in his arms and his warmth and his love, and what wrongness could touch her here in this fortress.
"Babe, what's wrong?" he asked after a few minutes, and the pet name sounds right when he says it.
"I thought you were leaving," she said, and she feels almost embarrassed now, with his arms warm around her.
He laughed a little, "Never," Sam said, brushing her hair out of her eyes and letting a finger trace the shape of her ring gently. He smiled sheepishly then, "I got kind of hungry, and you said you had pizza."
Quinn laughed again, as he brushed away the mascara smears under her eyes, "Did you bring me any?"
"Of course," he said, and pulled them both up to a sitting position and handed her a plate with a slice of pepperoni pizza on it. They sat in silence, shoulders warm against each other and ate their pizza together.
And Sam was different than all the others, because his handprint was on the other side of the door.
