A/N I guess this a song fic. I'm finishing up the next update of Beautiful Mess and 'Romeo & Juliet' by Dire Straits came on and this story just hit me. All bits in italics are lyrics to the song. This is a bit of a departure for me so all comments/reviews welcome.
You and me babe, how about it?
She could remember how it ended because that memory will be forever etched onto her heart, but how it started, that's a different matter. First looks, then a word here and there. A few conversations later, a shared laugh, then it was something else. Then it was touches and coy smiles. By the start of senior year it was hand holding and long gazes. Then before she could remember going from flirting to kissing, it was love. The kind of love where you can't remember how you ever functioned before it. Days were countdowns until they could finally be alone; nights were talking on the phone until they fell asleep and got to dream of each other. She didn't know how she'd never really seen the girl until then, how she'd not realised that the person her heart should belong to had been there all along. Senior year had been laughs and tears, passion and compassion. Rachel had held her, looked into her eyes and seen the girl she'd always tried to hide. And then she'd loved her with desire and want, lips and teeth and fingers. Quinn had never known quite how much she could feel.
If she closed her eyes she was still back there. Other memories were long gone but the feeling of Rachel above her, around her, in her, that never went; as if everywhere she'd ever touched had left a scar. That's why looking up at Rachel's name written bold and proud in the New York city night Quinn was sure she could feel her fingers gently brushing her neck, lips soon to follow.
It had taken Rachel five years to get here but Quinn had never doubted it would happen. Mostly because Rachel never doubted, not for a second. That should have been a warning to Quinn, a sign that Rachel might not be a safe harbour for her heart. But when had she ever been any good at protecting her heart?
Taking a deep breath she walked through the double doors and into the foyer. Her face was everywhere, on posters, CDs, T-shirts. But she didn't need any of that, all she had to do was close her eyes and she was there lying next to her in bed, hair sleep-tousled with a lazy grin on her face. Then as always happened the image changed. That room, that moment, that blank face she couldn't read. She opened her eyes again to avoid the tears that had sat permanently at the edge of her eyes for five years.
She handed her ticket to the usher and headed into the stalls. Six rows back to ensure that she would be hidden from Rachel's view by the bright stage lights. She opened her playbill wondering what Rachel said about herself these days, if she admitted she'd left her home behind and never once looked back.
The curtain rose and she saw her. Not a picture of her or a memory, but her. She realised they're breathing the same air and for a moment she stopped, holding it until it hurt, because for some reason she just can't, not yet. The play is fine, nothing spectacular. Rachel is good, what did she expect. Not that she really paid attention. She was too busy mapping every new wrinkle, the slight change in her intonation. She wondered if the five years had changed Rachel; the opposite of the way those years had preserved her in this cocoon of loss. She took her bow and Quinn wanted to applaud but she knew all she'd be clapping for was her own sorrow. The curtain fell and she sat there for a while building the courage to do the one thing she'd come here for.
Come up on different streets, they're both the streets of shame. Both dirty, both mean
She went to find an usher and asked if they could get a message to Rachel. Tell her Quinn was here. As she waited for him to return she considered leaving, going straight to the airport and getting the first flight to Columbus and never coming back. But he was back before she had time to make up her mind. He asked her to follow him. She was taken backstage and to a door with another sign with her name emblazoned upon it. He left her there. Taking a deep breath she knocked, having no idea what she would find on the other side of the door.
"Come in." She'd been hearing that voice for the last two hours. But this time it was just for her. Even with a door between them it made Quinn's heart race. She turned the doorknob and entered.
Rachel was in a white fluffy robe, her hair in a messy bun, her stage make-up already removed. She looked older.
"Quinn."
"Rachel."
She couldn't move. The first move could not be hers because although the last one had been Rachel's it was still her turn.
"How long are you here for?" That was Rachel, always trying to work out her parameters, seeing what she had to work with. Plan, plan, plan. She wondered how Rachel knew that she was just a tourist, that Ohio was still home. Then she remembered Rachel always knew that she would end up staying.
"A few days. I had some vacation time left at work."
"Are you…?" It was sweet of her to ask, even though she already knew.
"Still in Ohio? Yeah. I stayed in Columbus after college."
"Do you get home often?"
"A couple of times a year. I see your dads sometimes but we don't really talk, they never did like me."
"No, I guess not."
Rachel's dads had never really forgiven her for her past. It made sense; she had enough trouble understanding how Rachel ever did. But every time she'd enquire Rachel would look up at her with big brown doe eyes and tell her it was because she loved her and you always forgive people you love. She finally understood what Rachel meant.
"The Lima Bean's a Starbucks now."
"That doesn't surprise me. Did they repaint it?"
"No. We're still there."
One night they had been in the back of Quinn's car, clothes dishevelled, pulses slowly returning to normal. Rachel was bracing herself with arms either side of Quinn, hovering above her, eyes still filled with lust. Quinn had brushed her thumb along a plump bottom lip and with all the bravery she could muster said what she'd wanted to say for months. I love you. Rachel had smiled, wide and happy. Pushing herself back onto her knees and pulling Quinn with her they had kissed, hungry and joyous. Then Rachel got a mischievous look in her eyes that only Quinn was privy to and starting rummaging in her bag. Fixing her clothes she got out of the car and pulled Quinn with her. She walked around to the back of the building wielding a sharpie, and in bold strong letters that Quinn now realised would be echoed in marquees that would bare her name, wrote 'RB 4 QF' and drew a heart around it. She was glad she hadn't known then that the inscription would last longer than the relationship.
"Do you see anyone else?"
"Finn's the only other one still in Ohio. Everyone else got out. I only hear about him when Mom takes the care into the shop. He's fine."
She wondered how long it would take Rachel to ask how she was and how honest her answer would be.
And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be. All I do is keep the beat... and bad company.
"You should take a seat; I'm going to finish getting dressed."
Rachel motioned at a sofa before picking up a bundle of clothes and heading into the en-suite bathroom. The modesty seemed rather redundant as Quinn just had to close her eyes and she could see Rachel's naked body before her, asking for her, needing her. But maybe it wasn't the same body anymore, now that it didn't need her. She looked at the cards and flowers on the dressing table. 'Break a leg's and 'You'll be wonderful's were written on most of them. She wondered if any of them were from lovers. She didn't know if she should be looking for male or female writing to try and get the answer. She heard a shuffle in the bathroom so went to sit on the sofa not wanting to be found snooping.
Rachel exited the room and hung her robe on the door. She walked over and sat next to Quinn, a very calculated distance from her.
"What are you doing these days Quinn?"
She couldn't say 'missing you' so she gave the next most truthful answer.
"I work for a design company. Nothing major. Working my way up to having some of my own clients."
"I bet you're good at that. You always had a good eye for detail. Do you get to draw still?"
"No. It's mostly Photoshop stuff."
"That's a shame."
Rachel had always made jokes that she was the Rose to Quinn's Jack every time she'd tried to sketch her. Not that Rachel had ever let her draw her naked, always worried about possible future scandal. But she loved sitting under the trees in the park, a pad on her knees as Rachel lay nearby, listening to her ipod to find new songs for glee. In those moments she was allowed to just watch, map out lines with her pencil she could follow with her fingers once they were alone. She still had them all, her sketch pads, in a box in her mom's attic. That was where she tried to keep most of Rachel. That way at least part of her had stayed behind in Lima.
"But you like it?"
"I don't hate it."
"And is there…Someone…any boys?"
"Women. But no one special. No leading lady."
"So."
"Yeah. You changed a lot for me Rachel."
She'd tried to move on when she got to college, joined clubs, went to bars, but she was always looking for someone she'd already found. Eventually she gave up. It wasn't fair to expect anyone else to try to live up to a lingering memory of someone else.
"How about you?"
"No one special. I'm busy a lot."
She was glad Rachel didn't elaborate. She couldn't handle the idea of Rachel getting everything she'd ever dreamed of since she was a child. Probably because as naïve as she'd been at one point she'd hoped those dreams would have changed to include her. But Rachel Berry had always been stubborn.
And I dreamed your dream for you and now your dream is real.
"So you made it, huh?"
"I did."
"But then you knew you would."
"I did."
"And is it everything you thought it would be?"
"It was hard at first, but I was expecting that. Now it's mostly a joy. I get to go out there every night and sing for people that want to hear me. I can't ask for more."
"I always wanted to hear you."
"But you were the only one."
"I never could clap loud enough for you."
She'd been there all through senior year helping Rachel make her audition CD, driving her get her head shots done, helping write her bio. Bit by bit she'd helped Rachel construct an image for herself that was more than the kid from Ohio with the good voice. Bit by bit she'd helped Rachel leave her. And she'd done it all willingly because she knew if anyone else felt half of what she did when Rachel sang then there was no way she could keep her for herself. But more than that the way Rachel shone on the stage, her face lighting up with the eyes of an audience on her, how could Quinn deny her that? She could still remember the way the high would remain, Rachel always leaping into her arms at the end of a performance and kissing her like it was the last time they would ever see each other. She wondered if that was still the case and how many of these 'no one special's had been given the chance to see Rachel at her most passionate.
"So I don't know if you have somewhere to be. But I'd like to catch up properly. Somewhere at little more comfortable."
She wasn't sure if Rachel still meant the same thing she used to when she'd suggest moving to somewhere more comfortable. But sitting near her, looking into her eyes, she knew she'd agree with whatever Rachel wanted.
"I don't have any plans for the rest of the night."
"Come back to mine then. We can have a drink."
"A drink sounds good."
How can you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals?
They walk down the corridor past stagehands and other theatre people. She doesn't introduce her to any of them, doesn't act like Quinn is anything more than an acquaintance. At the stage door fans are clamouring for her autograph and Quinn waits at one side, trying not to get in Rachel's way. At one point Rachel looks over at her, nods and points at a car waiting on the corner. She feels like she's been dismissed. Rachel still has work to do and she guesses she doesn't want her getting in the way. As she walks over she hears fans asking who she is.
"Someone I went to High School with."
It was true but that didn't make it any less of a lie. She would have preferred if Rachel had called her an old enemy, an old rival. But just someone from High School, as if they'd had no effect on each other's lives. That was worse. Because Rachel had changed her forever. She had told her she was more than a pretty face, more than Lima. And even if it hadn't been true at least for a while she'd got to believe it. For 12 short months she'd had respite from believing she could never be loved. And even now, long after Rachel had left she still had the memory of being loved to warm her on truly cold nights. She hadn't had that before Rachel.
She got in the car wondering how something so profound for her was something so easy to dismiss for Rachel. But that wasn't new. She'd spent five years wondering what it was about her that was so easy to leave. Eventually Rachel joined her.
"Sorry, I can't ignore them or they'll start ranting online that I hate my fans."
"It's OK, I can tell you enjoy it."
"It's nice to be wanted."
"You never were very good at hiding your need for approval."
"Maybe I'm just more honest about it."
"You were definitely always honest."
The words from that night echo in her head the way they have done almost daily since she heard them. She remembers how Rachel tried to apologise, tried to tell Quinn it wasn't her, that she just needed to put herself first. That she'd been thinking and it was probably best if Quinn didn't come with because she'd need to concentrate on her career. She didn't need distractions. Perhaps that's how Rachel should have described her to her fans. A distraction.
You can fall for chains of silver,you can fall for chains of gold, you can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold.
Rachel's apartment is impressive. It's spacious but homely and decorated just the way she had always dreamed. The way they had dreamed when Rachel had still allowed her to be part of the future.
They had spent endless evenings lying on her bed looking through her mom's old issues of 'Better Homes and Gardens' deciding what their New York apartment would look like. Quinn would always give in to what Rachel wanted because in truth all she wanted was for Rachel to be happy. She felt like it was a fair trade for love. Rachel made her soft. With Finn or Puck she'd been the hard one, the one they needed to please. They were lucky to have her. With Rachel it all changed. She was so scared of losing the liberating love the girl offered that she was willing to give anything. She ended up giving everything.
"I'm just going to dump this stuff in the bedroom, make yourself at home."
Rachel walked into a room to the left and Quinn wandered into the kitchen. She looked at the fridge covered in photos. Rachel with friends, Rachel with people, men and women, that were obviously more than friends. She knew Rachel wouldn't have spent the last five years alone but she'd still hoped. She wondered how many of them there'd been, how many of them Rachel had offered the easy promises she had offered Quinn, how many of those promises she'd kept.
Rachel walked back in to the room, her hair now loose and flowing around her shoulders. She looked beautiful and Quinn almost hated herself for thinking it.
"I'm going to open a bottle of wine. Do you drink white?"
"Sure."
"Sit down, I'll bring it over."
Quinn moved to the couch and sat down, looking at the art that covered Rachel's walls. She recognised one print.
"You still have the Chegall."
"Yeah. It went well with the room."
"Oh."
It was too much to hope that Rachel had wanted to keep a piece of them. Back when their dreams had included both of them Quinn was going to end up with her own gallery space in Brooklyn. She had often shown Rachel the artists that inspired her. One night she pointed out 'Les Maries de la Tour Eiffel'. Rachel had liked it but said it looked like a dream and nightmare all at once. Quinn realised now that was probably the perfect way to describe their relationship. She had bought Rachel a print of it that night, saying it could be the start of their art collection.
Rachel sat down on the sofa and handed her a glass.
"So how's your mom taken it not just being a phase?"
"She's better now than she was. But I never take anyone home so I think she mostly lives in denial."
"No one?"
"No one's mattered enough."
They looked at each other and Quinn realised she had no idea what Rachel was thinking. Her acting had improved over the years.
"You've done well for yourself Rachel, this is a beautiful apartment."
"Thank you. I'm busy but I get paid well."
"Not much time for distractions, huh?"
"No. Not really."
"You always did know how to make the right decisions Rachel."
"Quinn…"
She wasn't going to cry. Because this whole thing had meant to be about closure, moving on. Unlike Rachel she'd never been able to make the right decision. At that moment she felt like she was back in that room. She felt like she'd just been sucker punched by Rachel's words all over again. Not being chosen. Again.
You promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin
"Was it hard?"
"Of course it was hard Quinn, I loved you."
She wondered how Rachel had managed to turn it off when five years later her love was still eating away at her.
"But you loved this more."
"Yes."
"Even after all the promises? Even after you told me you would always love me?"
"I also promised myself nothing and no one was going to get in the way of me going to New York."
"And I was getting in your way?"
"You would have needed me and I didn't know if there was going to be any of me to give."
She imagined Rachel always told herself that her decision was selfless, that she was really doing it for Quinn. If only she'd known the shell of a person she'd leave behind. Would it have changed Rachel's mind if she'd known that she wasn't able to survive on her own anymore? Self-sufficient Quinn Fabray was gone the first morning she woke up in Rachel's arms.
Rachel had stayed over before but this time Quinn's mom was away. That night they had gone for a long drive and picnic by the lake. Rachel had sung along to a mix of cheesy love songs she'd made for the occasion and persuaded Quinn to dance in the light of her car's headlamps like in a movie. They had got home really late and just crashed on her bed wrapped in each other. When she'd woken that morning Rachel was everywhere. Her arms were around her, their legs entwined, her smell was enveloping her and strands of her hair were covering her face. Everything was Rachel Berry and everything was perfect. She had turned in the girl's arms and kissed her 'til she woke. That morning they had made love for the first time. Rachel had been reverent, asking Quinn to trust her and promising to never hurt her. And as she'd felt those waves of euphoria pass through her Rachel had held her close, protected her at her most vulnerable and Quinn had let her walls come down. She soon found out that once she let herself need she couldn't stop.
You said, "I love you like the stars above, I'll love you 'til I die"
"It's not like you were the first person to leave me."
"It wasn't you Quinn. I didn't leave because of you, I left for me."
"Semantics didn't make me any less alone."
"Don't make me out to be like them. Don't you think it hurt me too?"
"I wouldn't know, I never heard from you again."
"I didn't want to make it worse. I wanted you to have space to move on. It wouldn't have been fair to leave and then try to still be part of your life."
"But it was OK to just go and leave me with nothing? To make me doubt you ever loved me at all?"
"I loved you so much Quinn. Please tell me you didn't think it was all a lie."
"How else could you just leave?"
She had tried but it was futile, the tears were inevitable now. She let them flow because what was the point of trying to be strong in front of Rachel, she'd never managed it before. She wiped at her cheeks with her sleeve and felt Rachel moved closer on the couch. She took the glass from her hand and placed both on the coffee table. Quinn could smell how now and it was the same smell she'd always had. Suddenly she was back in the choir room, Rachel sat as close as she could without them sharing a chair. Mr. Schue is writing something on the whiteboard but they aren't paying attention because Rachel is whispering something filthy in her ear and she's trying not to giggle. Her finger traces patterns on Rachel's thigh and she promises to do whatever Rachel asked of her as soon as they got home from school. But she's not at school and Rachel is no longer desperate just to touch her. She felt Rachel put her arm around her shoulder and she closed her eyes because the attempt at comfort hurts far more than it helps.
"I'm sorry Quinn. I should have said that more then, made you realise how much there was a part of me that wanted you there too."
"But you still would have left without me."
"Yes."
I can't do the talk, like the talk on TV and I can't do a love song, like the way it's meant to be.
"I was never enough was I?"
"Don't ever say that. Not ever. Do you know how much I loved you Quinn, how much you changed me?"
Rachel turned her face so that they were looking in each other's eyes. Quinn saw tears there now as well. That should have made her feel better but it just hurt more. She never could bear to see Rachel cry. That's why that day she had just told her to go. The minute Rachel had delivered the death blow Quinn had told her to just leave then if that's what she wanted to do. Rachel had tried to keep talking but Quinn didn't listen. She needed Rachel to leave because she couldn't bear to see Rachel crying while she tore her heart out.
"But I wasn't enough to sweep you off your feet and make you love me so much you couldn't stand to let me go. That's what you'd always wanted wasn't it, the fairy tale romance."
"Yes. It was what I'd wanted. But you made me realise how stupid that was."
"You mean I made you settle."
"No you made me realise that I could have a reality better than a fairy tale. The way you used to look at me, I thought I might die from that alone. I never felt loved like I did with you. You made me feel ten feet tall and invincible. You would get this smile when I'd sing for you and it made me feel like my dream wasn't a dream at all, just a future I hadn't got to yet. It was because of you that I could leave."
"So you're saying if I'd still been a bitch you would have stayed."
"Yeah, maybe. Would you have wanted that?"
"No."
Rachel smiled just a little and she smiled back. This was how they used to talk, Quinn trying not to be passive aggressive and failing and Rachel making her see what an idiot she was being. She realised how much she just missed talking to her. There were so many things she wanted to tell Rachel. Places she'd been, things she'd seen. She wanted to go back to a life were Rachel was the first person she told things to.
"You were…you are the greatest love of my life Quinn."
"More than Broadway?"
"Different than Broadway. The stage makes me feel elated and powerful. Your love always made me feel safe and protected."
"I still love you Rachel."
I can't do everything, but I'll do anything for you. I can't do anything, 'cept be in love with you
She didn't want to still want this but she did. The ease of her kiss, the old familiarity, it seeped into her bones. She should have stopped her, she knew this kiss wouldn't heal her pain, wouldn't rectify her constant sense of rejection. But she couldn't remember the last time she felt the touch of another and it was years ago that she stopped being able to remember exactly how it felt to have Rachel's lips pressed against hers. They fell into old rhythms, their need for one another was a well-rehearsed play. As Rachel's tongue entered her mouth she couldn't help but moan and grasp at her clothes. She needed to hold onto something solid because everything felt like liquid right then, like it could all slip through her fingers at any moment.
Rachel broke the kiss and stood up, holding her hand out for Quinn. She accepted it without word and Rachel led her to the bedroom. She knew how wrong it was but she'd never been willing to admit that Rachel just might have made her an optimist, even if it'd been hidden under layers of pain for so long. And really she knew she had no choice. Just like Rachel had to leave she had to stay. There was no her without this girl in front of her offering, if nothing else, a chance to delude herself once more. She was Rachel's and she always would be and she knew that she'd always give herself to her whenever she asked.
She tried her best not to cry as they made love because she wanted Rachel to remember the Quinn she used to be before she broke her. Because maybe then she could love her again. Maybe she'd let her stay this time.
She wanted to ask Rachel if she thought she could love her again but she knew it didn't matter, that she'd be willing to love enough for both of them. They were lying there in her bed, Rachel wiped away a stray tear with the pad of her thumb, a tear Quinn tried so hard to hold back.
"Quinn. I…
Then the phone rang. Rachel looked over and read the caller ID.
"It's my agent. I have to take this."
She got up, wrapped herself in a robe and answered the phone. Quinn watched as she left again.
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong?
As Rachel closed the door behind her, already talking to her agent, Quinn couldn't help but hope this time it would be different. This time she'd matter.