Unbeta'd. Partly inspired by a story told to me, partly inspired by Psalm 23.
Rachel will never forget the moment she lost faith in God.
She sat, her heavy white dress weighing her down, her perfect makeup ruined by sweat and tears. It felt like a dream, nothing more, like she would wake at any moment with a harsh jolt, and a shaky breath. But no matter how many times she rubbed her tired eyes, she could not get rid of the nightmare before her.
Machines whirred and beeped as wires created a criss-cross of lines over Quinn's pale form. The blonde lay absolutely still, her pale skin battered and bruised, her small frame dwarfed by the big white bed. Mrs. Fabray sat stoically by her daughter's side, stroking the back of Quinn's hand, the only part of her that seemed uninjured. Rachel was beside Mrs. Fabray, unable to touch any part of Quinn, no matter how much she wanted to. Her phone buzzed every few minutes, she assumed with messages from the rest of the New Directions wondering about Quinn's condition. The others had wanted to stay behind, but Mrs. Fabray had insisted they go home. But no matter how much she insisted, the older lady could not get Rachel to leave.
Rachel imagined how her other friends would react right if they were by her side.
Santana would sit with Brittany at her side, seemingly strong and untouched by fear or sadness for the sake of her girlfriend. Brittany would be a quiet mess, with silent tears streaming from her bright blue eyes.
Puck and Finn would linger in the doorway, unsure how to act, their eyes giving away the grief in their hearts.
Kurt would offer Rachel a shoulder to lean on, calmly looking over Quinn like an incredibly well dressed guardian angel.
Mercedes would tell them all to pray.
Rachel desperately wished she could pray. She held on tightly to her Tehillim, her Book of Psalms, given to her by her rabbi on her twelfth birthday. According to the rabbi, Psalms were read in honour of sick people in order for them to have a speedy recovery. Every time she opened the book, the Hebrew letters seemed to mock her with talks of God and His kindness. Where was He now? Why wasn't He with Quinn when she needed Him most? Rachel couldn't bring herself to read through the Tehillim, but she kept reciting one in her mind, the one she knew best of all.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
There was plenty Rachel wanted right now. She wanted to be out of the damn wedding dress and in some comfortable track pants. She wanted to be holding Quinn's hand in her own. She wanted for Quinn to be okay, to wake up, and hold her gaze. Rachel desperately wanted to peer into the hazel magic of Quinn's eyes just one more time.
"You should go home, Rachel, get some rest," Mrs. Fabray said wearily, "We don't know when she'll wake."
Rachel just shook her head at the older lady.
"I'm not going anywhere. I'll be fine right here."
Mrs. Fabray regarded the small brunette, before nodding. She reached out her free hand, and took Rachel's. Rachel smiled gratefully.
"She's lucky to have a friend like you, Rachel."
"She'd be doing the same for me," Rachel whispered.
If Santana was surprised to see Rachel Berry in a wedding dress and crying hysterically on her doorstep, she didn't give it away, and she didn't question anything. Without a word, Santana ushered the smaller brunette into her house.
He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters.
Santana led Rachel to her bedroom, where Brittany was waiting. She grabbed some spare clothes from her dresser, before leading the two other girls into her bathroom. Together, Santana and Brittany undressed Rachel, carefully helping her step out of her big dress, and tossing it aside. Brittany supported Rachel's small frame whilst Santana turned on the shower. Wordlessly, the couple cleaned the makeup from Rachel's face, and attempted to scrub the sadness off her. Rachel's tears mingled with the running water from the tap, until eventually she felt as though her entire body was wet with the tears she was crying for Quinn.
Rachel didn't object as her friends led her to Santana's bed and sat her down. She had calmed down; the big sobs that had wracked her body had begun to lessen, and tear tracks dried on her cheeks. The three girls sat in a silence that none of them dared to break. It was as if in that quiet, Quinn was okay, unhurt, and back on her feet. In that silence, Santana and Brittany didn't know anything of Quinn's condition, and Rachel knew that once she broke it, nothing would be the same.
"The doctors said that the surgeries went alright, but she just…" Rachel couldn't talk. Every time she thought of Quinn in her broken state, it made her want to crawl into a ball and die. "She looks so sick."
"And her legs?"
"They'll have to wait for her to wake up properly to discover just how bad her injury is." Tears once again made their way down Rachel's cheeks.
"Seeing her like that," she said, "it's killing me, Santana. I can't watch her die."
"Well then it's a good thing she's gonna live."
Rachel was the only one by Quinn's side when she woke up. Mrs Fabray had gone to get a quick coffee, and while she was gone, Rachel heard the faint voice that made her heart soar.
"Rachel…?"
"Quinn, oh thank God." Quinn's voice was hoarse after a few days of no use, and her usually bright, attentive eyes were dimmer than usual. But still, Rachel just loved seeing Quinn conscious.
He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness…
"Rachel, my legs. What's wrong with my legs?" Panic stained Quinn's voice, as the blond finally realized that something was wrong. Tears welled in the hazel eyes that Rachel adored, and the small diva felt powerless.
"Quinn, you were in an accident—"
"Rachel, help me. Help me," Quinn cried softly, her tears breaking Rachel's heart into millions of pieces.
"I will, Quinn, I promise. I'll help you," Rachel replied as she pressed the nurse's calling button. She intended to keep her promise with all her soul. For a long time, Rachel had thought she had been put on this earth to entertain the world with her talents. Since she was little, her entire existence was propelled by her talent, because she was destined for stardom. But as she held Quinn's broken frame in her arms, Rachel felt her life change course. Broadway was no longer her life's purpose. In that one moment, Rachel realized that she had been put into this world to help Quinn in her hour of need. God or a cosmic force or something had pushed Rachel onto a new path, a path that would lead to Quinn's recovery.
Rachel was terrified when she entered Quinn's ward to find Judy Fabray crying outside her daughter's room. As she sprinted to where the blond woman sat, it was as though time had frozen, and only one thought could run through her mind.
Quinn is dead.
Judy only cried harder when Rachel's arms enveloped her in a secure embrace, which only made Rachel worry even more. Quinn couldn't be dead; Rachel had seen her the night before.
"The doctors are in with her now… She'd had a collapsed lung overnight, and there's a tube in her side… Her chest infection's turned too quickly into pneumonia…"
Quinn. Beautiful Quinn, with her perfect skin, elegant hair, and the perfect comeback always on her tongues' tip. Poor Quinn, with soon-to-be scars covering her body, a nasal cannula permanently in place, and her lungs refusing to cooperate.
When Rachel thought of living a life without Quinn Fabray, anxiety ruled her body. When Rachel imagined having to go through the next eighty or so years without Quinn, it made her heart hurt with an icy cruelness, and her eyes well with inconsolable tears. And it was when these thoughts crossed her mind, these instances of not being able to survive without the cheerleader, it was then that Rachel began to think that maybe what she felt was more than love for her best friend.
She had always admired Quinn's beauty, but as the two began to know each other more and more, it was things other than her physical features that Rachel saw as beautiful. It was the way Quinn would stop to gather her thoughts before speaking. It was how she'd go out of her way for anyone she loved, and make sure that her mother was safe at night before she went to sleep. It was the way she smiled softly when she heard her favourite song, as if she were the only one who had ever heard the charm of the melody. But most of all, it was the way Quinn made Rachel feel like she was important, like she was magic and wonderful and loved. She made Rachel feel safe with her constant presence, and it was now, faced with the uncertainty of Quinn's death, that Rachel fully understood just what the blond meant to her.
A doctor exited Quinn's room, and regarded Mrs. Fabray.
"Your daughter's pneumonia is especially dangerous, given her injuries. Right now, we're not worried about your Quinn's paralysis and whether she'll walk again in five years, but rather if she's going to make it through the next week."
It was a blow that Rachel didn't see coming. Quinn couldn't die due to pneumonia- that was no way to go. Quinn Fabray couldn't die because she couldn't breathe; there was no poetic justice in that death. Rachel refused to believe that Quinn could die, not with all the praying that everyone was doing. No, Quinn couldn't die. No God could ever be so cruel. Rachel had to believe that Quinn would be okay, because if she stopped believing that, there would be no turning back. She would lose her wits, her faith, and her best friend.
Though I journey through the valley of the shadow of the dead, I do not fear evil for you are with me.
As the doctor continued to speak to Judy, Rachel excused herself and entered Quinn's room. The beeping of a nearby machine almost masked the heavy, laboured breathing coming from the bed.
"Oh, Quinn."
"Rachel?" Quinn squinted to see the small diva, and smiled when she recognized her. "Rachel, I missed you."
"I missed you, too. Anything I can get you?"
"No, thanks. But there's something you can do for me." Quinn lifted a heavy hand, and beckoned Rachel to approach her bedside.
Rachel reached for her friend's hand, and held it tightly.
"Rachel," Quinn breathed, "I want you to let me die." Fresh tears sprung in Rachel's eyes as she listened to Quinn's request.
"I can't let that happen, Quinnie."
"Please, Rachel. I can't go on like this—" the blond was interrupted as she coughed violently. "I can't live. I won't live."
"What about me, Quinn? What happens to me when you die, huh? I'll just magically be okay and forget that you ever existed?"
"You'll… you'll be okay. You have Finn."
"He's not enough, Quinn!" Rachel cried. "He'll never be enough because he can never be you. And what about your mum, you'll just leave her behind, too?"
"She'll be fine. She's strong, and so are you."
Rachel leaned down so that she was at eyelevel with the blond cheerleader. Gripping Quinn's hand tightly, Rachel looked directly into her eyes.
"I may be strong, but I'm not strong enough for that."
"Please, Rachel. Please." Rachel used her free hand to brush the bangs back off of Quinn's face. Quinn cried miserable tears, her hazel eyes searching for compassion in Rachel's brown ones.
"I am strong enough to help you survive," said Rachel, "I promise you, I will be by your side for every second of your recovery. I will hold your hand through every twist and turn. I can help you get better. But watching you die? Letting you die? That I cannot do."
Quinn clamped her eyes shut, shaking her head softly. She didn't want to accept what Rachel had said, but she knew she'd have to. When Quinn saw the ferocity in Rachel's eyes, she knew the diva was serious, not just about helping her, but also in loving her. In her drugged up, pneumonic state, Quinn still got the feeling that maybe what she felt for Rachel—and what Rachel felt for her—was bypassing friendship, and heading straight towards full blown, stay-together-forever, love.
Five months after her accident, after five bouts of pneumonia, a collapsed lung, three emergency surgeries, excruciating physiotherapy, and more stitches than she could count, Quinn was finally ready to be discharged from hospital.
Rachel sat with Quinn in the hospital room that had been home for far too long. Judy was at the nurse's station, signing the last of the papers that would deem Quinn a free woman. The two girls sat right by each other, their legs touching, though only one of them could feel it.
"Dr. Torres says that if all goes well, I could get feeling back. I could even walk."
"Please God," Rachel added quickly, touching a hand to the Star of David that hung on a chain around her neck.
"You know it's funny, in the past couple of weeks, I haven't really thought about Him all that much," Quinn mused.
"Why's that?"
"Because it's been you by my side all this time, Rach, not Him."
"Saying something like that will get us both killed. Struck down in a freak lightning storm or something. He'll smite us," Rachel laughed.
She turned towards Quinn, who wasn't laughing. Quinn stared intently at Rachel, as if she were seeing God Himself. More self aware than usual, Rachel tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ears. Quinn licked her lips, and Rachel felt her heart skip a beat. In a single moment, the air in the room became unbearably thick with tension between the two of them, both their hearts pounding in tandem. Rachel's skin was on fire just from the anticipation of what might possible happen. She scooted closer to the cheerleader, swallowing her doubts. Quinn leaned in, a millimetre at a time, not wanting to move too fast. Rachel ached for their lips to touch, but she didn't want the moment to end. She wanted to be frozen in time, in that exact spot—waiting to kiss Quinn Fabray—for all of eternity. Because to be locked into that one moment meant that nothing bad could ever happen. In that moment, the possibilities were endless, a sea of love ahead of them. In that moment, they were no longer the broken cheerleader and the tearful diva, but they were Quinn and Rachel, best friends who loved each other with such fierceness that no one else could possibly understand.
"Are you scared?" Quinn whispered.
"Terrified," replied Rachel.
Neither of them dared to move, and both were startled when the door was thrown open and Judy Fabray entered, unannounced.
"Ready, Quinnie? Time to go!"
If she realized what had just been happening, Judy was an excellent actor. She acted as if she didn't feel the intensity that filled the air, ready to be set off with a single spark. Pulling herself together quickly, Rachel jumped up, and moved to help Judy get Quinn into her wheelchair.
Your rod and your staff comfort me.
Rachel wheeled the chair as Judy carried the bags, and together they led Quinn through the hospital, on their way home. Rachel blushed when Quinn reached up to put her hand on the diva's. Judy smirked, and pretended not to notice.
Rachel sat in the Fabray's kitchen, drinking tea with Judy, and ignoring the cries of pain and the swearing that was coming from outside. Quinn and her physical therapist were in the middle of a session, and no matter how much the doctors insisted she was improving, Quinn was still in too much pain to notice a difference during her sessions.
The brunette stared out into the backyard, unable to hide the admiration on her face. Over the past few months since Quinn's release from hospital, Rachel had been to visit Quinn every day, staying up until all hours of the night to talk and listen and just relish each other's company.
"So, Rachel…"
"Yes, Judy?"
Rachel didn't even turn to face the older woman; she just kept staring at Quinn, hard at work. She took a sip of tea.
"How long have you been in love with my daughter?"
Rachel had not been expecting that question. She swallowed her mouthful of tea in panic, the hot liquid searing her throat as it went down.
You set a table before me… My cup overflows.
"I, uh, I don't know what you're talking about?" Rachel said, finally, her voice an octave higher than usual.
"Before the accident, I would've been sceptical," Judy began, acting oblivious to Rachel's discomfort and horror. "I was raised a good Christian home, by God fearing people. And those people used their love of the Almighty to mask their bigotry.
I like to think of myself as an open, honest woman. And if I were being honest with you, I'd tell you that I cannot imagine my Quinnie with anyone but you in this lifetime."
"Excuse me?"
"Darling, you have been by her side from the moment this happened. You have cared for her, and helped her and me throughout this journey. And I know at some point or another, you ditched that giant fiancé of yours. There's a pure love inside of the both of you that you'll only find once in this lifetime, and you're pretty damn lucky you found it so young."
"Crappy circumstances, though," Rachel interjected. Judy laughed.
"The worst. But we can't pretend to know God's plan; clearly there's something magical that will come out of this. But you have to know something, Rachel. Choosing Quinn like this, Quinn who has survived everything that God has put in her path, it's choosing a difficult future. One filled with physical pain, and emotional damage, and a person who will think herself incomplete. Are you sure you can handle it?"
"Judy," Rachel began, "I know what it'll be like, and I'm not expecting an easy ride, believe me. First of all, Quinn is a lot stronger than you're currently giving her credit for, and so am I, for that matter. You think that what I feel for her is just that beginning love where I feel giddy every time I see her, and the excitement of passion that a new love promises… but it's so much more than that. I'm ready to love her for the rest of my life, through thick and thin, through sickness and health, through darkness and light."
Judy sighed.
"It will not be easy-"
"But it will be worth it," Rachel finished, and Judy smiled warmly at her.
"So worth it."
May only goodness and kindness pursue me all the days of my life.
A knock at the front door pulled Rachel away from dinner with her fathers.
"Coming," she called out as she slowly made her way to the front of the house. Opening the door, her mind stopped, and her heart swelled, and tears sprung to her eyes.
Quinn stood—stood—before her, grinning proudly like an idiot, one hand on a walking stick to keep her steady, the other behind her back.
"Quinn?"
"Tada!"
"Quinn!"
"I wanted to surprise you."
"Well, you've succeeded. I'm speechless."
"There's a first time for everything, dear," they heard Leroy call from inside the house. The two girls laughed.
"I have something for you," Quinn said, pulling her hand out from behind her back. In her grip were a bunch of miniature roses, redder than the blush in Rachel's cheeks.
"They're not a thank you, because to thank you properly would be to do the impossible. They're more a proposal." Rachel took the flowers from Quinn's hand, and gently pressed her nose against them.
"Will you be my girlfriend?" Rachel blurted out, overcome with emotion.
"Hey, I was just about to say that! You stole my line!" Quinn shrieked, playfully indignant.
"I couldn't go another second without acknowledging my feelings for you," Rachel admitted.
"Oh yeah? And what feelings would those be?" Quinn asked playfully.
"Well," Rachel said, "I might be just, like, a teeny tiny bit in love with you."
"This is awkward, because I really fucking love you. A lot. And a little from you won't cut it."
Rachel stepped forward, diminishing the space between them until it was non-existent. Making sure the blond was steady on her feet, she leaned in, pressing their lips together, sparks flying as their passion finally ignited.
Nothing else mattered to Rachel now that she had Quinn in her arms. She understood that it wouldn't be easy, that Quinn would always be battling, but Rachel knew that she would be fighting by her side the entire time.
"I forgot how tall you were," Rachel murmured into Quinn's neck.
"I forgot how small you were," Quinn replied.
"I forgot how rude you are," Hiram chastised, coming to the door, "invite your girlfriend inside out of the freezing cold. And go get her mother from the car!"
Rachel will never forget the moment she found God again.
It was as she walked down the driveway with the girl she loved more than anyone else. Something much larger than the two of them had brought them together, and seeing love and happiness in Quinn Fabray's bright eyes was all the proof Rachel Berry needed.
