Part 1
Ohio to Indiana
Rachel tripped up the stairs at graduation. It was fitting, but not because she was fumbling around in the dark anymore. It was out of excitement and enthusiasm and the fact that her feet just seemed to be moving too fast for her body.
Quinn watched her laugh from the line of graduates, applauding loudly at her girlfriend's blunder. Rachel's cheeks flushed and she gathered herself and received her diploma, taking a moment longer on stage than anybody else had to look out at the crowd and see their faces.
And then she switched her tassel to the other side, carefully navigated her way back down the stairs, and bowed when she got back to her seat without falling again.
A week later, Quinn's own tassel swung from her rearview mirror as she drove herself and Rachel to Finn's house for a start-of-summer barbecue.
Rachel's head was pressed against the window, eyes closed, fingers curled loosely around the hem of her dress.
Quinn watched her for a minute at a stop sign. "You okay, babe?" she checked, reaching over to squeeze Rachel's thigh.
Rachel hummed and nodded against the glass.
"You've been quiet." Quinn prodded.
"I'm fine, Quinn."
Quinn danced her fingers playfully along Rachel's thigh until Rachel squashed them like a bug. She was smiling slightly, and she picked up Quinn's hand to kiss it, and Quinn flicked on her indicator to turn onto Finn's road.
She grimaced at the giant, orange RV parked outside one of the houses.
"Somebody's going on a road trip." Rachel remarked softly, pulling a face that said she was just as repulsed by the neon vehicle as Quinn.
It reminded Quinn of the minibus and the Key Largo trip, and she had to laugh for a second because- what if they'd gone in that? That monster of a vehicle. A glaring, orange beacon on wheels, with the phrase "RIDE WIT US" on the side.
And then Quinn stopped laughing, because it was parked outside Finn's house, halfway up the curb, and her fond memories turned into traumatic flashbacks of minibus flat tires and broken air-conditioning and vomit and a psychotic fat cat.
"Quinn." Rachel whispered, in the tone of voice one would use if they'd just caught sight of a murderer in their own home.
The call is coming from inside the house. Finn has an RV in his driveway.
Quinn pulled into the driveway right as the front door of the house opened, and a hoard of glee clubbers poured out into the front yard.
"Oh my God." Quinn muttered, hand on the car lock button.
They'd been ambushed.
"Baby, unlock the door." Rachel instructed, tugging at her own handle because she'd never learned how to use all the buttons in Quinn's car. "They'll get to us eventually if you don't."
Quinn snorted a hopeless laugh. "They're not raging zombies, Rachel."
Santana stepped up and banged both fists into Quinn's window, shouting something unintelligible.
Quinn gave her a hand signal that clearly meant "Back the fuck up," and Santana obeyed. Rachel got out of the passenger side and Quinn rolled her eyes and opened her own door, wondering who was responsible for whatever in the world was going on at the moment.
"Hey, guys!" Finn greeted, smiling brightly. "We've got-"
"What the hell is that?" Quinn interrupted loudly, pointing at the RV.
"It's a recreational vehicle, Quinn." Brittany offered helpfully.
Puck frowned and clapped Finn's shoulder. "Dude, when did you roll it up the curb?"
"It wasn't like that when I parked it. It must've moved by itself."
Mercedes emerged from the back of the group and sidled up to Rachel. "Don't stare at it too hard, girl. It'll make you blind again."
Quinn could see that happening. It was a rolling pumpkin. A jack-o-lantern if the lights were on. Rachel half-smiled at the statement.
"We have a proposal for you guys." Mike stated, stepping forward because the rest of his friends obviously couldn't be trusted to act sane for a minute.
Quinn eyed them all warily. She knew exactly where this was going, and she stepped closer to Rachel until she could take her girlfriend's hand.
"San, I think Lord Tubbington's in the engine." Brittany called out conversationally. "Can you help me get him out?"
"Just start the car." Mercedes suggested, looking far too eager. "That should get him out."
Kurt shook his head. "He can't be in the engine, Britt."
"Well he's in there somewhere."
Cutting the brakes and wrecking the wires and drilling a hole in the gas tank, probably.
"We want to go on another trip." Mike said loudly, guiding Rachel and Quinn backwards a few steps. It was like walking away from the sun. Maybe something brighter and more horrific. It burned Quinn's eyes.
"But this time we'll go west, and we'll stay in the RV so that all of our money can go to gas."
Artie nodded. "I definitely bankrupted myself last year."
"And it's our last summer together before college or work or whatever everybody is doing," Mike continued, waving a hand around, "and I think Mercedes and I are the only ones who've seen the Pacific Ocean."
Quinn glanced dubiously at the RV. "How many can it fit?"
"Eight, comfortably." Artie answered.
Rachel laughed wryly. "Who are the three who'll be uncomfortable?"
Puck stepped up, shrugging easily. "We thought we'd switch around. Then everybody can have the same experience and we're all even."
Quinn groaned a little bit at the ridiculousness of the situation.
"Okay-no-he's under the spare tire, next to the axle!" was called in the background.
Tina came forward, shoving Puck out of her way. "Look, Rachel, you've been…off, lately. I mean, we've all noticed it. You're quiet and careful, and-"
"Wait, no." Rachel interrupted with a frown.
Quinn squeezed her hand. She'd wondered if Rachel was depressed, mildly, or just taking an exceedingly long time to get used to being able to see, migraines and headaches and all. She had no timeline to go by for something like that.
"She's right, bud." Quinn whispered so that only Rachel could hear.
Rachel stared up at her for a second, searching her eyes, and then dropped her gaze to her feet.
"We'll just-we'll use this trip to bring back the real Rachel Berry!" Tina proclaimed. "The one we caught a glimpse of when you fell up the stairs at graduation."
Quinn snorted at that, unable to control herself, and Rachel elbowed her lightly in the ribs.
Kurt walked out of Finn's garage carrying a wrench, a skateboard, jumper cables, and a package of cat food, and Quinn decided for herself, that yes, she would spend another summer with these idiots, because those people trying to extract an overweight cat from the engine of an RV were her friends.
"You'll be my-my… guide again, right?" Rachel asked in a small voice, pulling Quinn's attention back to her. "I mean, I know I'm not blind, but I don't want to be left at the top of a mountain in Colorado."
Quinn tipped forward and kissed away the worried frown on her girlfriend's lips.
"I'm your buddy, Rachel. I'll be wherever you need me."
And just like that, Rachel agreed, smiling softly and nodding and accepting the celebration that Tina and Mike showered on her.
Lord Tubbington emerged from the RV, covered in oil, cat treat in his mouth, and it was such an obvious omen of how this trip would go that Quinn had to laugh.
~oooooooooooo~
"You know, we may never reach the west coast." Quinn mused, dumping a pile of dresses into the duffle bag on her bed.
Rachel was lying next to it, staring up at the rotating fan. Her lips twitched and she nudged Quinn's bag with her elbow. "You didn't think we'd make it to Florida either."
Quinn scoffed. "Yeah, well, we barely did."
"It was enjoyable though."
"You…do you not think you'll enjoy this one?" Quinn questioned, climbing onto the bed and sitting on her knees, watching Rachel closely.
Rachel's eyes flitted up to her. "I really hope I do, baby."
Quinn hummed thoughtfully, tapping a hand on Rachel's stomach. "Maybe it's new scenery you need. A new environment, to get you out of your pretty little head."
Rachel pursed her lips to suppress a smile.
"See?" Quinn gestured at Rachel's face, smiling herself. "Let it out, baby. You have the biggest smile I know."
Rachel rolled her eyes and fixed her gaze back on the fan. "Being in new places might help."
"Yeah?" Quinn raised her eyebrows.
"Just-nothing changes here." Rachel stated. "As long as I'm not consumed by some large mountainous mammal or killed in an earthquake, this trip will be alright."
Quinn smiled. "I'll protect you from the wolves."
Rachel scoffed and lightly slapped Quinn's thigh. "You'd just get us both eaten."
"I dove into the everglades for you, Rach. I'd battle a pack of wolves, easy."
Quinn really just wanted Rachel to smile, and she was glad it was working.
"I think everybody ended up in the everglades at some point." Rachel drawled, eyes sparkling up at her girlfriend.
Quinn shrugged easily and crawled backwards off the bed. "Are you all packed?"
Quinn was working under the assumption that Brittany would be taking up half the RV with all of her luggage, so she was trying to keep her own things to a minimum. She may die of exposure in some forest in Utah when all her clothes disintegrate because they've been lost for months, but she wouldn't have nine suitcases.
Rachel nodded. "Are you?"
"You have pajamas?" Quinn checked, ignoring the question. "And your eye drops and migraine pills? And lots of sunglasses?"
Rachel sighed, nodding again.
Quinn threw a pair of socks at her face, laughing at the grumble she received. "Yes, I'm packed, bud. We can-"
She was interrupted by the resounding rumble of a vehicle outside, louder than the trash trucks and UPS vans, and she just prayed that Finn wouldn't run over her mailbox. She grabbed Rachel's bag and slung her own over her shoulder, and then took Rachel's hand and headed downstairs.
"Wear sunscreen, Quinnie!" Judy called out from the living room, and Quinn laughed and answered that she would, and then ventured in there to give her mom a hug.
"My dads gave me SPF 90." Rachel informed when she returned.
Quinn hummed. If it was possible to drain the color from somebody's skin, SPF 90 would be the thing to do it.
"All aboard!" Finn greeted, hanging halfway out of the RV's door and waving them forward.
He was up the curb, but it was with all of the wheels of the right side of the vehicle, so at least it was even. Quinn hurried to put the luggage in the outside compartments, not wanting this massive, orange eyesore lingering in front of her house for too long.
Rachel went up the steps first, and Quinn followed, bracing herself for what horrors she may find.
The first thing that caught her attention was the driver's seat area, which had to be the size of a small bedroom. There were two black, plush leather seats and a large center console. The dash had more buttons than a jet plane.
"Don't worry, I know how to drive it." Finn assured, grinning confidently.
He must've recognized the terror in Quinn's eyes.
"Um-does anybody else?" Rachel asked skeptically, "Because-I mean, I trust you, Finn, but-"
"Oh yeah, I got this." Puck interrupted, slurping a Big Gulp in the passenger seat. "We'll take turns."
Rachel hummed. "And…what safety features does this vehicle possess?"
Quinn wanted to laugh, but she was curious as well. It would probably end up saving her life.
"There are life jackets under the seats, Rachel!" Brittany called out excitedly. "And I found a raft on top of the little fridge, and I accidentally inflated it halfway, so we put in the closet."
"Yeah, don't go in that closet." Santana warned loudly.
Quinn couldn't even see them. It was like the bus contained multiple worlds. And-was it formerly a ship? What the hell kind of RV came with an emergency raft?
"Front and side air bags, seatbelts on all the seating, all doors are secure…We'll be totally fine." Puck stated. "And we tied Artie down, so no worries there."
"We're good!" Artie cried from the back.
Quinn turned to examine the rest of the bus. There was a three-seater leather couch along the right side of the RV, and a booth-style eating area beyond that, right under a large TV. On the left side, Mike and Tina were sprawled in good-size armchair, next to a kitchen area with a sink and mini-stove.
"Kurt dumped coffee down the sink before all of the plumbing was hooked up, so if you smell that, blame him." Tina explained.
Kurt scoffed. "The sink's the size of a teacup. Anybody would have spilled it everywhere."
At the other end of the bus was a bedroom with a curtained door, and what Quinn assumed would be a tiny bathroom.
"And the toilet's even smaller than a teacup, so…be careful." Mike offered.
Quinn grimaced and squeezed Rachel's hand at her little noise of disgust.
Overall, the RV was gigantic, and there was no possible way that they wouldn't crash somewhere along the line. Quinn settled into the booth with Rachel, glad that it was like they were driving a tank because they'd be less likely to be injured.
Sure, they could crash through the side of a building because Finn had enough trouble with a miniature bus, but at least they would be alive.
"Away we go!" Finn yelled, and a moment later the RV jerked forward, dropping back onto the road and leaving big brown splotches in Quinn's yard where grass had once been.
Rachel shut her eyes, and Quinn did the same, and they were off.
~ooooooooooooo~
Quinn learned very quickly-within about thirty minutes, actually-the good and bad things about riding in an RV. For instance, they never needed to stop. Snacks were stocked and the gas tank was full, and nobody had vomited yet, so they rumbled right along.
The bathroom was free to be used, but there was never any doubt what anybody was doing in there, so that was unsettling, and Quinn opened the closet with Brittany's half-inflated raft about an hour into the drive and nearly gave herself a heart attack.
"I SAID DON'T GO NEAR IT!" Santana roared, helping her shove the door closed again.
Quinn tried to calm her racing heart.
Rachel pulled her into her side when she sat back down, vowing to never ever open any doors at all for the rest of her life.
Mercedes pulled out Monopoly, which is exactly what the trip would need-anger, frustration, impatience, and flying plastic houses-and Kurt put Harry Potter on the TV. Tina and Mike fell asleep, and it was actually a peaceful couple hours out of Ohio.
Things had degenerated a bit by the time they hit Indiana.
"I'm not cheating!" Artie argued, shoving a wad of fake money in Mercedes' face. "I passed go and didn't pick up two hundred, so I paid my income tax!"
"I saw you pick it up!"
"I was sorting money! I'm the banker!"
Kurt slammed his hand violently against the table. "Lord Tubbington ate my thimble again!"
Quinn could feel Rachel relaxing against her side, despite the noise. She understood; it was familiar. But she also knew that it was odd for Rachel to not have broken into song by now. Or turned up the radio or started a license plate game or anything at all other than quietly watch her friends argue over a board game.
"Hey, guys, there's a weigh station up ahead." Finn yelled over his shoulder. Quinn felt the RV drift. "Do we exit for it?"
Brittany sat up. "Yes!"
"No, Finn, we're not an eighteen-wheeler." Quinn called back, rolling her eyes.
Puck looked doubtful. "You sure? 'Cause this thing's a beast."
"Yeah, Quinn, they might need to weigh us to make sure we're not gonna break through the road."
Kurt snorted. "Britt, please be quiet and help me get my thimble out of your cat's throat."
"Alright, I'm exiting!" Finn shouted, losing control of his voice a bit because of how close he was cutting it.
"No, Finn, we are not carrying commercial goods!" Quinn protested, clutching the table as the bus swerved slightly. "We do not need to be weighed!"
"How many wheels does this thing actually have?" Puck wondered casually.
Mike nodded with Quinn. "Dude, if you take this exit, you'll embarrass us all."
Because that would be new.
The RV swerved back the other way and a pile of little green plastic houses was dumped on the floor.
"Okay, we're good! No worries!" Finn called once he'd composed himself.
Lord Tubbington leapt out of Brittany's grasp to roll around in the little houses under the table. Quinn figured he'd eat them if he hadn't already swallowed a metal thimble.
The arguing died down about halfway through Indiana, and Finn traded places with Puck at a rest stop. While Finn's style of driving was more stilted and slow, Puck's was smooth and let's-try-and-break-the-sound-barrier fast.
"If we had wings, we'd take off right now." Tina muttered.
There probably were wings somewhere on this monster.
"It might happen anyway." Artie remarked, watching the scenery fly by.
Rachel shifted against Quinn's side, and Quinn was surprised because she thought her girlfriend had fallen asleep. Rachel sat up straight and placed her hands flat on the table, looking like she was gathering herself for something.
"You gonna table dance for us, Berry?" Santana smirked.
Quinn narrowed her eyes.
Santana opened her mouth again, but Brittany nudged her shoulder before she could speak. "San, don't." she whispered. "She might put you in that closet."
The closet with the now almost fully inflated raft jammed into it. It sat there untouched, ready to jump out at the next moron who would open the door.
Quinn nodded. "What are you doing, babe?" she asked, turning her attention to Rachel.
Rachel kissed the side of her head and climbed over her lap and out of the booth-Quinn ran her hands helpfully over Rachel's legs and butt-and Rachel was careful not to land on Kurt, the cat, or the minefield of tiny plastic houses.
"We have been driving for over six hours, and it is about time that we sing a song." Rachel proclaimed, sticking her hands on her hips and watching her friends' reactions.
Quinn smiled right away. She reached over Kurt's head and poked Rachel's thigh, and Rachel flushed a bit bashfully when she looked at her.
"No Broadway." Santana stated immediately.
Quinn cut her eyes across the table.
"Adele?" Tina suggested.
"Okay, we want to sing, not drive off a cliff in despair." Artie vetoed.
"Something classic?"
"Oh God, Britt, Tub's vomiting." Mike pointed. "Thimble's coming up…Yep, definitely coming up."
"Okay!" Rachel clapped loudly over the sound of the cat retching. "Sweet Home Alabama! Thank you for your votes. You brought your guitar, right Artie?"
He had, and somebody handed it to him because his chair was still strapped down-which was probably a safety hazard in itself-and he played the opening notes easily. Quinn pulled Rachel onto her lap and bounced her knees to the beat, and Rachel clapped her hands until everybody starting singing.
Puck joined, until he swerved off the road and hit the wake-up bumps, terrifying all of his passengers.
"Sweet home Alabama," Rachel sang loudly and freely, turning to sing "Lord I'm comin' home to you," right in Quinn's face.
And Quinn sang it right back, deafened and pleased and dancing and twanging her voice to make Rachel smile, because this was the Rachel Berry she knew.
~oooooooooo~
Puck had to pull over right around midnight, unable to keep his eyes open, so they situated themselves in a parking spot at a rest stop in Indiana, about half an hour away from the world's largest ball of paint.
"How is that even a real thing?" Mercedes questioned when Mike informed them of its existence.
"Well, he took a baseball and kept painting layers on it, and now it's like the size of Rachel, so-"
"She wasn't asking how it was made." Kurt interrupted, struggling with the safety latches on the cabinets. "She was saying it's idiotic."
"It is idiotic." Quinn threw in helpfully.
But it would only be a short stop tomorrow, so nobody complained too much. They had half-frozen Kid Cuisines and milk and cereal for dinner, not wanting to press their luck with the oven quite yet. Better to wait until they were closer to the ocean to set the bus on fire.
Quinn handed Rachel an apple, and then stood next to her and crossed her arms. Ten kids lined up outside an RV in the middle of the night at a rest stop in Indiana.
Everything was going exactly as Quinn expected.
"Isn't there a button or something, dude?" Puck called through the door, watching Finn try to expand the sides of the bus.
There were two "pop out" sections, which would create more sleeping room, but they hadn't yet "popped out."
Finn stuck his head out an open window. "Shouldn't it be more than a button?" he asked. "Like, if you were goin' down the highway and you accidentally hit that button, the bus would just be, like, expanding, and-"
"Oh my God." Tina muttered, hand to her face.
Artie rolled up to the door. "Maybe there's a lever? Or a button with a cover?"
Rachel sighed and tilted her head back so it rested against Quinn's shoulder. The lights were on in the RV, so it looked like a jack-o-lantern, and they watched Finn's head bob past several windows. Rachel was halfway through her apple when some kind of engine whirred and the two partitions expanded out from the bus.
"Oh my God, make sure they don't fall out!" Brittany cried, rushing forward like she was going to hold them up if they did.
Santana caught her arm before her girlfriend could get sucked into the mechanism.
Nobody was awake enough to argue over sleeping arrangements, so Quinn didn't protest when she and Rachel were assigned the bunk over the driver and passenger seats. But then she looked at that bunk and knew that she should've protested. They'd drawn the shortest straw out of a batch of very short straws.
"How the hell are we supposed to get up there?" she questioned, gesturing vaguely at the small bunk.
She'd have to vault. Maybe obtain some kind of springboard, or master tandem aerial acrobatics so that Rachel would be able to come with her.
"Just climb." Mike suggested, rolling into his own bed on the large armchair with Tina.
Quinn stared at him.
"Girl, you fall outta there in the night and you'll end up in the hospital." Mercedes warned, like she thought that would be helpful.
Puck waved her off. "Nah, there's a barrier that pulls up. You're good."
Rachel narrowed her eyes. "So we're sleeping in a tiny crib ten feet off the ground."
"I don't think it's ten feet, Rachel." Brittany stated sagely. She turned to Quinn with a smile. "Maybe you could use gymnastics to get up there!"
Finn shuffled out of the bathroom and past the pulled-out couch, and lifted the curtain away from the window, revealing built-in slats to climb up to the bunk. "I accidentally found them looking for the button earlier." He explained.
Rachel climbed up first, and Quinn stood at the bottom of the "ladder" to catch her if she fell.
"Stay away from the edge, bud." She instructed as she made her own way up.
Rachel was pressed into the far side of the bunk, just short enough to sit up without hitting her head on the ceiling. Quinn climbed over and pulled the curtain closed and the barrier up-flimsy, definitely not trustworthy-and knocked her head about four times before just giving up and lying next to Rachel.
"This is very, very tiny." Rachel whispered, snuggling into her side and wrapping an arm around Quinn to make sure she wouldn't roll over the edge.
Quinn knew she'd just take them both over.
"Even smaller than that bunk bed." Quinn added, remembering what had once been the greatest and worst thing in her life.
Rachel smelled like apples and toothpaste, and she was soft in her fluffy pink cupcake pajamas, and Quinn smiled despite her claustrophobia.
"I'll make them give us the bed tomorrow." Rachel assured, squeezing Quinn closer. "Let me know if you need to climb down and get some space."
Jump down, fall down, roll over and plummet down. All more likely to happen than climb down.
Quinn nodded. "Night, baby. Love you." She murmured.
"Wait, Quinn," Rachel ran a hand through her blonde hair and made sure her eyes were still open. Quinn raised an eyebrow. "I'm-I liked today. Just so you know. I don't know how this trip is going to go, but it was fun today. So that's…"
She trailed off and frowned like she really didn't know what was going on in her own head, and Quinn tilted forward an inch and kissed her nose.
"That's good." She finished for Rachel, lips quirked up.
Rachel hummed quietly. "Yes. It's good."
"And I'm taking you to a Wizard of Oz museum tomorrow, so that should be even better." Quinn murmured, eyes sparkling.
Rachel had only watched the movie about three hundred times since she'd gotten her sight back.
"You found a Wizard of Oz museum?" she questioned, voice low and eyes wide like Quinn had just told her she'd robbed a bank.
Quinn nodded. "I don't know why there's one in the middle of Indiana, but yeah. We'll stop there tomorrow."
It seemed sketchy, the more she thought about it. But nothing could be less legitimate than the world's largest ball of paint.
Rachel kissed her lips and held her there for a moment. "Maybe they'll have souvenirs." She mused softly. "Like ruby red slippers."
"Or dogs." Quinn indulged. "Little terrier dogs named Toto. We can take one home."
Rachel tapped her chin. "Don't joke. I'll make that happen."
"OKAY, THE COUCH IS FOLDING IN ON ITSELF. EVERYBODY UP." Kurt screeched from ten feet below, and Quinn figured that maybe they hadn't gotten the worst sleeping assignment of them all.