a/n: i honestly have no idea. anyhoo, quinn's at yale, rachel's at nyada, and slightly au. also, short.
The thing is (and this is the really annoying thing) that no matter how hard they want it to work, long distance is hard.
But they try (Fabrays and Berrys don't give up) and hope that it'll all be worth it in the end.
I miss you. I love you. I want to see you.
The day Quinn left, she had been filled with promises and promises, things she hoped were true and hoped Rachel would believe too.
"It's okay baby" she had whispered in Rachel's ear, her lips grazing the side of Rachel's face "an hour isn't far. We can do this."
Rachel had nodded (while holding back her tears) because she had no idea what else to do. They could do this.
Rachel pressed her hand to the car window, a pane of glass separating her from Quinn, and waved until the car was gone (and even after that.)
Promise me. Promise me it'll all be worth it in the end.
Rachel sends her postcards every week (stupid postcards, with every sight from New York. Stupid postcards that Quinn loves.)
She pins them all up, until her pinboard is covered, and she reads each and every one of them til she's got them memorized. (She lets her fingers trace over the star at the end.)
"Those from your girlfriend?" her roomate (an annoying girl from Chicago who Quinn doesn't even know the name of) asks, smirking a little at Quinn's pinboard.
"I wouldn't care if anybody else wrote to me" she replies (and it's the truth.)
I'll see you at break. Missing you.
They chat on Skype every week (Rachel talks about NYADA, and Quinn just smiles.)
"I miss you baby" Quinn breathes "So much." (An hour turns out to be too far.)
"I know. I miss you too." (And it hurts. Everyday.)
And like they did with the car window, they press their hands up against their screens. (But it's more than just a pane of glass separating them now, it's miles and school and everything else.)
We'll see each other soon. I promise.
One week, Quinn doesn't turn up for their Skype chat.
One week, Rachel doesn't send a postcard.
(And this is how it starts to fall apart.)
Is it worth it?
"I can't come down this week" Quinn says, voice breaking slightly. (She can, she just doesn't know how it'll feel."
"Oh." (And that's all Rachel says before there's a beep.)
"Rachel" Quinn begs "Rachel!" (And it doesn't matter to her that she's already hung up.)
I wanted to see you. But I couldn't.
"How was it?" Quinn asks, wondering if Rachel can tell she's been crying over Skype. (She can, and that might make everything worse.)
"It was fine" Rachel replies. (She loves Quinn, but she can't do this. Not now/"
"Rach-"
"I think we need to take a break, Quinn." (Quinn signs off.)
(Rachel presses her hand to the screen, but there's no one else to do the same.)
But we're not over.
A break turns into six months. (Six months of missed phone calls, delayed Skype conversations and mislaid postcards.)
"This isn't going to work. I'll always love you." (The voicemail understands Quinn nearly as much as Rachel.)
We tried.
Quinn takes down all of Rachel's postcards (but she keeps them in a drawer.)
Rachel deletes all of Quinn's texts (but forwards them to her new phone.)
(Long distance never works.)
I miss you.
Rachel dates two other people (they both looked somewhat liked Quinn.)
Quinn dates three (they all sang.)
They don't get me like you do.
Rachel rips up fifty unsent postcards (they all say I miss you and I love you.)
Quinn deletes 100 unsent emails (they all say I love you and I miss you.)
There's so many things I wanted to say.
It takes 3 years, 1 months and twenty-five days for Quinn to get her girl back. (And a slap from Santana.)
It takes 3 years, 1 month and twenty-five days for Rachel to get her girl back. (And several insults from Kurt.)
I'm coming for you.
The day Rachel graduates, is the day Quinn steals Rachel Berry's heart again (although she's had it since she was seventeen.)
All it takes is a kiss and promises for the future (to forget three years, 1 month and twenty-five days, fifty unsent postcards, a hundred unsent emails, missed holidays and not quite deleted texts.)
"Baby. I'm sorry. You were worth it" Quinn breathes, holding Rachel like she'll never let her go (and this time, she won't.)
"Maybe this time we'll get it right." (And Quinn laughs, and like gold stars fit Rachel, it fits them.)
(And that time, they do.)
It was worth it in the end.