The More Things Change, a glee fanfic

Author's Note: I've never participated in Faberry week, but I've always really wanted to. Day 1 is "Reunion". Enjoy, review, you know.

Not sure how I feel about how this turned out. I've never written a Faberry short story before so don't judge too harshly lol

Ten years. Was it possible that it had really been ten years since they'd graduated? Since they'd all been together? She stalked the darkened halls of the high school, little plastic cup of punch in her hand, one of her 'Kevin Costners' (as Kurt liked to call them) following at a respectable distance. She looked over and saw he was talking to someone else on one of those 'ear things'. Why Gregory had nearly demanded that she surround herself with these people, Rachel wasn't sure. Still, if he felt safer knowing his star was safe, then she felt better, too, she supposed. But really, where was safer than boring Lima, Ohio.

She tried the handle to the choir room, thankfully finding it was unlocked. She went in, turning on the lights as she passed, while… umm… well, shit. She couldn't remember his name. Damn it, she was helpless without her assistant. Nancy would have known this 'Kevin Costner's' name. That was her job, though. Whatever his name was, he was waiting at the door as she walked around the choir room.

Everything was exactly the same. Same piano. Same chairs. Same risers. Same picture of Lillian Adler. Except it wasn't all the same. There were more chairs. More lyric books on the shelves. And most importantly, the plaque there beside Ms. Adler's hadn't been there when she'd graduated. It hadn't needed to be. She walked over to it, letting a tear run down her face. Finn.

He'd always be that teenage boy while she would move on, get married, have children. It wasn't fair. He should be there tonight, on her arm. Instead, he was a memory, a tribute in her first CD's notes, a "Thank You" in her first Tony Award's speech.

Finn…

She left the room, cutting off the light on her way out, leaving the room exactly as she had found it. That was the way memories should be, anyway. There when she needed them, gone when she needed them to be. Ugh! Tonight was such a mistake. What the hell was she thinking?

No, not what. Of who? Of who had she been thinking? Because it wasn't herself, for once. She'd done enough of that to last a lifetime, according to "certain people". People named Kurt Hummel-Anderson who had guilted her into coming tonight. And she'd grown up dealing with 'Jewish guilt' her entire life with her Dad. How had Kurt even managed it?

"Rachel, you've simply got to go," he'd said, in the monitor of her computer. It hadn't even been local guilt. It had been international guilt. "If Blaine and I can come back from Milan three days early to go back to Lima, Ohio, you can get enough time off from filming to make an appearance."

"Kurt," Rachel had started to argue.

"Don't whine," Kurt said. "It gives you wrinkles."

"It does not!"

"Well, it gives me wrinkles then," Kurt said, moving his hand as if that could brush away her objections. "Now you're going. That's that. Don't make me fly to LA to drag you back, either. Or worse, I'll sic Satan on you. She's a cop, you know."

"No she isn't," Rachel said, rolling her eyes. "She just plays one on TV. And that's her joke. Stop encouraging her."

"Cop or no, she's still a Cheerio at heart," Kurt said, "and she'll have you bound, gagged, and overnighted quicker than you can say 'Sue Sylvester' if you don't just go ahead and say you're coming." There was some kind of noise in the background of Kurt's side of the conversation, and Blaine appeared in the background, wearing a towel and nothing else.

"Kurt," Rachel warned, blushing slightly. "You might want to tell your husband there that he's about to expose himself over the internet."

Kurt, looking embarrassed, turned to Blaine. "Sweetie, cover- Actually, don't cover up." Turning back to the monitor, Kurt said, "Rachel, darling, I have to go. And so do you. To Lima. I've already talked Nancy into booking your ticket. Ciao!"

And Kurt had disconnected, leaving Rachel staring at the "K.H-A has disconnected" message. Really, though, how mad could Rachel be? If she had someone in her life like that, she'd enjoy every moment of it, too.

It was another thing that wasn't fair, a trend in her life recently. She'd gotten everything she'd ever wanted. A Tony award at the age of twenty. A Grammy by twenty-three, and filming/starring in her third soon-to-be hit movie at the moment. No Oscar or Emmy yet, but she was only twenty-eight. She still had decades in her career. And yet, without someone to share her life with, it felt empty. Fuck. She should not be having this existential crisis in the darkened hallways of a high school.

Yet so much of her life had happened here. She'd been proposed to here. She'd found out a friend was pregnant here. She'd won her first major award here. Well, that was actually in Chicago, but… details. She'd given her first autograph here. She's gotten to know and develop a relationship with her mother here. She'd fallen in love here- twice. The first, unrequited. The second, most definitely requited. Wait, was that a word?

Rachel pulled out her phone and found the dictionary app. Typing in, she found that… yes, 'requited' was definitely a word. Her favorite was the fifth definition. "To give or do in return," she murmured aloud. Yes, Finn had definitely 'requited' her love. The idea of it made her smile in the darkness of the hall.

Curiously, she added an 'un' before 'requited'. This one she didn't bother to read aloud. 'Not returned or reciprocated'. Yes, she had definitely experienced unrequited love in high school, too. Specifically from a certain blonde head cheerleader the first year and a half of her high school career until one Finn Hudson, said girl's boyfriend, had found himself in Rachel's sights. That was too many years ago, though, and experience had taught her to never go after gay men or straight women. Or anyone married, but that was another story entirely.

Rachel's phone went off in her hand, nearly scaring her to death and causing her to spill most of her drink on the floor. Damn it! Seeing it was Kurt, she sighed, cursing the boy, and answered a little too harshly with a "What?!"

"Rachel?" Kurt asked, not even hardly put off by her sudden burst of rudeness. "Where are you? People are looking for you." Before she could answer, he was already interrupting her. "No, wait, this is Rachel Berry in a high school. Auditorium or choir room?"

Rachel sighed. "Choir room. But I'm coming back. Just give me a minute." And she hung up, throwing her phone back in her bag. Thankfully their friendship could survive such bouts of rudeness. If it couldn't, the two divas wouldn't have been friends for all this time. Again, she had to stop herself from being shocked by it.

Ten years. She didn't feel ten years older. She didn't think she really looked ten years older. Most of that was thanks to her vegan lifestyle and daily yoga exercises. Kurt had jumped on the vegan bandwagon after commenting one day how healthy her skin looked. Blaine had been pulled on behind him.

"Ma'am," her unnamed 'Kevin Costner' said, opening the door for her as she reentered the gymnasium. Really, this school did everything as cheaply as possible, didn't it? Two proms in this same gymnasium, now their ten-year reunion?

Rachel alone had the money to rent out the nicest hotel in Lima or, even better, Columbus or, best yet, New York City. And, surely, between successful fashion designer Kurt, his Broadway-famous husband Blaine, successful Hollywood starlet Santana, and herself, they could have easily flown everyone out there. And that didn't even include anyone else who had become rich and powerful and successful (Rachel's mind flew back to a certain blonde head Cheerios wh had been poised to take over the world as she entered Yale).

Speaking of, Rachel found she couldn't stop looking around for that certain blonde ex-cheerleader, and, fuck, why was it so hard to say her name? Quinn. Quinn Fabray. QUINN FABRAY! There. Happy, brain?

Rachel took a moment to pause and get herself under control. Sometimes things just took her over.

"Finally," Kurt said, walking up to her. "Rachel, loathe though I am to admit this, much like in Glee Club, you're our star here. You're the person people want to see and get their picture taken with and get autographs from. You need to work this room like an after party."

"And what if I just want to treat everyone like they treated me while I was here?" Rachel shot back.

Kurt paused, appraising her. "Rachel…"

"I'm sorry," she said, hanging her head. "I didn't mean that. That was rude."

"Well, you're a star now," Kurt said, taking her hand and squeezing it. "You can be rude if you need to. But just to me. Everyone else, they're your fans. And we all know how much you love your fans."

Rachel's face lit up at that because she really, really did. It amazed her to no end how much people loved her work. The people that came up and asked for her autograph or wanted a picture or, more than anything, the people that constantly bombarded her on Twitter or Instagram. Even the people that wrote those stories about the characters from her movies or about her and her costars. She loved all of them for caring about her that much.

With renewed interest, she started making her way around the room, even running into some of her old friends. Mercedes Jones, after becoming a one-hit wonder with "Hell to the No!", had gone back to school and was now a dentist in Colorado. US Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Noah "Puck" Puckerman was stationed in Japan and was married with two kids. Mike Chang, after backup dancing for Justin Beiber, then getting in a fight with Beiber and punching him on live television to become an internet sensation, was now hosting a network cooking contest show. How that transition happened, even he wasn't completely sure. Quinn Fabray, no one had heard from in years. With Kurt and Santana staying close friends, and Finn… having passed… that rounded out the Glee Club seniors. Everyone else she said hello to and spoke to and posed for photos with, but those were the ones she really cared about.

After an hour of face time, Rachel was all ready to call it quits, but that was when Mr. Schuester got on stage and said something about "Glee club performances". Rachel turned, immediately glaring daggers at Kurt, and he was at least thoughtful enough to look sheepishly away as he went up on stage.

"Don't be so hard on him," Santana said, coming up to Rachel. "He knew this would be hard on you, being here without Finn. The karaoke was my idea. I knew if you got a chance to perform, you'd be at least a little happier."

Rachel scoffed, though whether it was because that idea was preposterous or true, she wasn't sure yet. Still, she had to at least act like she was upset by the idea. "When did you get to be so 'Dr. Phil'?"

"Dr. Feel-Me-Up, maybe," Santana said, laughing. She stopped, though, as her eyes landed on someone. "Speaking of… How is it that Q can be rocking the mommy 'do and the PTA look and still be sexier than half the models I know back in LaLa-land?"

"Q?" Rachel asked, confused for a second before it clicked in her head. She spun to see where Santana was looking. "Quinn? Quinn's here?"

"Easy there, eager beaver," Santana said, smirking at her own joke. "Over by the door. Just came in."

She looked where Santana was directing her gaze and saw her.

Rachel had seen Quinn go through a number of looks in high school and afterwards. There was Cheerio-Quinn, Pregnant-Quinn, Skank-Quinn, Non-Cheerio-Quinn, Prom-Quinn, Wheelchair-Quinn, Wheelchair-Prom-Quinn, and, finally, Yale-Quinn. That was where she ran out of Quinns. But if she added all those to the different costumes she'd seen Quinn wear over the two and a half years they were in Glee club together, Rachel would have said she'd seen every version of Quinn. And yet…

This Quinn wore a headband holding back her shoulder-length blonde hair, barely any makeup, a print floral dress with a cardigan over it, and a large purse on her shoulder. It was like the fashionable woman she used to be raided her grandmother's closet. Rachel wanted to laugh, especially after all the crap Quinn had put her through for her own wardrobe back in high school, but… she was too busy being turned on to even think that. What the hell?

"You having mommy issues, there, Berry?" Santana asked, smirking as Rachel stared at Quinn. It took all her willpower to turn and look at the Latina beside her.

"What? No! I'm just… happy… to see Quinn again," Rachel lied. Badly.

"I bet you are," Santana said, smirking. God, she should have never told Santana about that crush back in high school. "I'm going to say hey. You should come with."

"What? No, I don't think-" But it didn't matter what Rachel didn't think because Santana was already dragging her over.

"Hey, Q," Santana said, getting the blonde's attention.

"Santana!" Quinn nearly screamed out of joy and through her arms around the surprised woman. "God, it's been years!" Pulling back, she examined her, smiling widely. "Look at you! I've seen all your movies and have the Blu-rays of them and I'm just in love with the show!"

Turning to Rachel, Santana said, "I like this new Quinn, Berry. She may dress like a milf, but she's way nicer than the Ice Quinn we knew back in high school."

Quinn blushed at the completely inappropriate (so totally appropriate) term 'milf', and said, "Yes, well, that's what happens when you let a four-year-old pick your outfit. This was her favorite dress, and I just didn't have the heart to say no." Turning to Rachel, voice full of quiet sincerity, she said, "Hi, Rachel."

"Hello, Quinn," Rachel said. "And you can tell your daughter that she has great taste in dresses. You look beautiful."

Quinn blushed again. "Coming from you two, that actually means more than you know."

"Coming from us two?" Santana couldn't help but ask.

"Well, Santana, you're an actress in Hollywood," Quinn said, "And, I mean, Rachel Berry. Tony award winner, Grammy award winner, also a Hollywood actress that should have been an Oscar award winner if those people had actually seen Liar in the Meadows." Turning to Rachel again, she added, "It was beautiful, and you were amazing, by the way," causing Rachel to blush. "If you two, who always look so glamorous and amazing at awards shows, tell me that I look 'beautiful', then…" And she let the sentence drop away, not knowing how to finish it.

"Wow," Santana said slowly, smiling a little too deviously for Rachel's tastes. "Never thought I'd seen Quinn 'Head Bitch' Fabray fangirling over the two of us. I mean, where's the haughty 'I'm better than you' stare? Where's the ice cold attitude? Where's that Fabray fierceness?"

Quinn's face dropped, and she glanced down at the floor before looking up again. "I'm… I'm not that person anymore," Quinn said. "I'm not proud of how I acted in high school or… even afterwards. It took a long time for me to actually grow up."

"Yes, well, some of us," Rachel stared pointedly at Santana, "are still working on that."

"Whatever," Santana said, sounding not the least bit apologetic. "The only reason I came back to this shitty little town was to rub my stardom in these people's Lima loser faces. But if you're actually… happy…" the word drew a sour look from her face, "with your tiny little nothing of a life then it just isn't as fun. I'll see you around, Berry. I'm going to go lord it over Mercedes. I heard she's a dentist. Ha! Have Nancy call Brian and we can set up a lunch when you're back in LA." And with that she walked off, not even bothering to look at Quinn again.

Quinn stood there looking down at the floor while Rachel just stared after Santana. "I am so sorry, Quinn," Rachel said, looking back to the blonde in front of her. "That was rude and completely uncalled for. I'll have a talk with her later."

"It's okay, Rachel," Quinn said. "She's right. I was a bitch back then. I deserve that."

"No you don't," Rachel said, wanting to grab her hand or pat her shoulder or something. She just didn't know this Quinn anymore. "No one deserves that."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Rachel cleared her throat and said, "So… you said you have a daughter? I mean, I'm guessing that's what you meant. You said 'four-year-old' and 'her', so I just assumed daughter, but I do suppose you could be talking about a niece or a step-daughter or just a friend… though I don't imagine you'd be having many four year old friends. And you can stop me any time you want here, or I may end up rambling all night."

"Why would I want to do that?" Quinn asked, grinning. "You're still so cute when you ramble."

"C-cute?" Rachel asked. What the fuck? She could actually feel herself reverting back to that sixteen-year-old that was constantly intimidated/turned on by Quinn. Is that what high school reunions did? Thrust you back ten years, back to high school? It could explain Santana's antagonism towards Quinn…

"Yes, cute," Quinn said simply, smiling at her. "And, yes, I have a daughter. She's four and, as corny as it probably sounds, she's just the light of my life." Quinn's face lit up in a way that Rachel had never seen back in high school, and she found herself really happy for the blonde in front of her while melting a little at the genuine happiness in that incredible smile.

"Do you have any pictures of her, or…?" Rachel asked.

"Oh, just tons," Quinn said, digging into her purse for her phone.

Pulling it out, she swiped a couple of buttons and turned it for Rachel to see. The blonde staring up at her from the screen was, quite possibly, the most adorable thing she had seen in the world. Quinn flipped through to another picture, showing the little blonde girl at the park, riding on a carousel. Another swipe and there she was eating ice cream. Rachel watched, smiling, as Quinn showed picture after picture, explaining each one. "There she was watching the polar bears at the zoo." "This was her trying to eat a bowl of cereal with a fork." "This is where I was teaching her how to ride a bicycle."

Quinn slid to another picture that showed a half-naked Quinn and another barely dressed woman posing for a "selfie", wrapped in a blanket in front of a fire. The woman's lips were pressed into the crook of Quinn's neck, and Quinn had this wanton look on her face that Rachel had never seen before.

"Oh my God!"

"Oh, God," Quinn said, immediately blushing and bringing her phone down to where Rachel couldn't see it. The image was already burned into her brain, though. Thankfully. "I am so sorry. That was… it wasn't… That's an old picture. I thought I had deleted it." She looked away, covering her face with her free hand. "God."

"Quinn, hey, it's okay," Rachel said, trying to get over her shock. "I was just… surprised. Are you…" She lowered her voice, getting closer to Quinn so people wouldn't overhear. "Are you gay?"

"I am," Quinn said, no longer hiding her face. Rachel had to give her points for that. She said it without being ashamed, something a teenaged Quinn would never have been able to do. It brought back memories of the strong person Quinn had always been. Giving up her baby, learning to walk again, graduating salutatorian of their class, going to Yale. "And you don't have to whisper on my account. I'm out, and I have no problem telling people."

"Wow…" Rachel let out. "I never would have guessed."

"Really?" Quinn asked, almost dryly, arching an eyebrow at her. "Never?"

"No," Rachel said. "You were always so… well, I don't want to say 'perfect'…"

Quinn laughed at that.

"Okay," Rachel said, giggling along with her. "Not 'perfect'-"

"Far from it, actually," Quinn said, sobering up. "I was more like… porcelain. Like a china doll. I may have been beautiful, but I was so fragile. So easily chipped. And I just wanted to be strong. To look unbreakable."

"Well, you did," Rachel said. She shook her head. "I can't believe I didn't even have a clue that you were gay."

"Me neither," Quinn mumbled, looking down at the floor. She looked back up, smiling that fake Fabray smile that Rachel knew all too well. "So on to other things. I heard you have a new CD coming out sometime in-"

"No, wait" Rachel said. "What did that mean? Should I have known you were gay somehow? I assume you never told anyone, and you were so closed off. I mean, I'm glad you're not that way anymore, but why would I have known you were gay?"

"I don't…" Quinn shook her head. "Can we just talk about something else? Please?"

"No," Rachel said. She was used to getting her way after being a Broadway/ Hollywood star for the past ten years. She wasn't letting Quinn off that easily. This was important to Rachel... though why, she had no idea. "You thought I would know? Or thought I knew? Santana and Kurt didn't even know, and they have the best gaydar."

"Santana knew," Quinn said. "Maybe not in high school, but definitely after the night of Mr. Schuester's wedding. Failed wedding. Whatever."

She was puzzled for a moment before Quinn gave her a look. The look. Understanding flashed in Rachel's eyes at just what Quinn was talking about. Santana had said she'd hooked up with someone that night but would never say exactly who it was. But it couldn't have been Quinn. No. That wasn't possible. Santana's been her friend since high school. She would have told her… wouldn't she?

"No, that's not…" Rachel glanced over at Santana who was talking to Kurt. "She would have told me. She knew how I felt about-" But she stopped herself, eyes going wide as she slapped a hand over her mouth.

"What?" Quinn licked her lips nervously, and Rachel couldn't help but watch the movement before going back to Quinn's eyes. "How you felt about what?"

"Nothing," Rachel said. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we should talk about something-"

"No." Quinn stopped the change of subject this time. "Are you telling me that… that you felt something… for me?"

"What? No, that's just… that's silly," Rachel said, but her tone was calling her a liar. She really was the worst at that, even years later. Amazing actress, terrible liar. What was wrong with her?

"Rachel…" Quinn made her name almost a plea, begging her to tell the truth. When it looked like Rachel wasn't going to say anything, Quinn sighed, downed the rest of her punch, and looked away. They stayed silent for a minute before Quinn, staring at the floor, finally said, "Do you remember after Regionals senior year, you and Finn were going to get married that day? I had to go home and get my dress, remember."

"Of course," Rachel said, finally looking at her again, though she did so with trepidation. "That was the day of your… I remember."

"Do you remember before that, when we were out in the hallway?"

This one caught her off guard. "I… yes?"

"I asked you about our Regionals performance, about the song you sang. 'Here's to Us'," Quinn said, biting her lip in much the same nervous way she had that day. Again, she didn't want to ask the question, but she knew she had to. "I asked you when you singing that song, if you were singing it to Finn… and only Finn."

"I remember," Rachel said. "You were making sure I actually loved him enough to-"

"Rachel," Quinn said, softly. The look in her eyes was pleading for understanding.

Rachel looked down, thinking about it, remembering the way Quinn had looked at her, had asked that question. She thought Quinn was such a good friend, making sure their love was real and not just some high school thing. She remembered nodding, remembered Quinn saying 'He really does make you so happy. I want to support you, Rachel… and Finn… and come to the wedding if it's not too late'. The way she said Finn's name… No. The way she forced it out, as if she hated saying it. Rachel had just been happy that her friend was going to be at her wedding that she didn't notice, but…

"…no." Rachel looked up at Quinn's face, eyes wide. "No. You didn't… you… didn't…" Quinn smiled at her, letting her know that, yes, she really did.

They were silent for far too long, everyone giving them a wide berth because they were clearly having an in-depth conversation. Eventually Rachel said, "When you were running late for the wedding, Finn said 'It's now or never', but… I couldn't. Not without you there. I didn't know why, but I knew you had to be there."

"I gave you prom queen," Quinn countered, causing Rachel to look up at her, again shocked. "You didn't win. I did. But I talked Santana into giving it to you because you had failed your NYADA audition and you were just so miserable."

"But you were in a wheelchair," Rachel said. "And all you ever wanted was to be prom queen. And you still gave it to me?"

"I wanted to make you happy more than that, I guess," Quinn said, shrugging as if it was no big deal. Like she hadn't helped make Rachel's high school career with that one move.

"The bridal shop!" Rachel nearly yelled as the pieces started falling into place. People around her backed up and away from her. She had never really changed much from that overly-excitable (okay, crazy, whatever) little Jewish girl she had always been. "You said… you said you weren't going to let me ruin my life by marrying Finn Hudson!"

"I know," Quinn said, grimacing at the memory. "I'm sorry. If I had known what would happen… I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Rachel said distractedly, still caught up in this 'Quinn liked her' thing. After another moment, she said, "You told me not to marry Finn when I told you he proposed. That I should break up with him. You also told me to wait to have sex with him."

"…I did," Quinn said eventually.

"Did you…" Now it was Rachel's turn to bite her lip, too shy to ask the question on her mind but doing it anyway. "Did you love me? Back then?"

"Back then?" Quinn echoed her, almost laughing. "Rachel…" She pulled out her phone again, flipping through picture after picture until she landed on the one she wanted. In the background, they heard Mr. Schuester calling Quinn to the stage to sing, but she was ignoring him for the moment. Finally finding the picture she was looking for, she showed it to Rachel.

Rachel looked down at the phone. It showed Quinn's daughter again, hovering over a birthday cake with cheeks puffed out, about to blow out the candles. On the cake, she could read 'Happy 4th Birthday, Barbra'.

"I named her after my favorite singer."

"Barbra Streisand?" Rachel asked hopefully. Because anything else would mean-

"No," Quinn said, starting to walk off towards the stage. "After my favorite singer's middle name."

Rachel gaped after her. How had, in that short conversation, Quinn managed to turn Rachel's entire world upside down? The surprises weren't ending, though, as she watched the blonde make it to the stage and smile up at Mr. Schuester, taking the microphone from him.

"Hello, everyone," Quinn said, getting the group's attention. "I know our Glee 'assignment' for this event was to come back and sing a song we sang in Glee club. A reminder of the past. But, as most people who probably know, my past has been rather… interesting." Looking directly at Rachel, she went on, saying, "There are so many things I regret from high school. The people I hurt. The things I said, the actions I took. Mostly, I regret the things I left unsaid. That was always the biggest. So I decided, if nothing else, I would finally say them tonight. So I'm singing a song that came out after we graduated, but it was one I really connected with while in college. I hope you enjoy it."

Quinn moved around to the piano on the stage, taking the spot from Brad who smiled and nodded at her. What the hell? Rachel had never known Brad to smile at anyone yet here he was. Rachel had so many questions, but they all got blown out of her head the moment Quinn started playing the melody. Her brain short-circuited soon after as Quinn started singing. To her.

"Well I only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only knew I loved her when I let her go