A/N: Just a little oneshot while I continue to write Blindsided :) (and obviously there's a good reason as to why I put this under Rachel/Quinn)
- Theresa
ATONEMENT
Summary: Quinn and Kitty have a heart-to-heart. Kind of.
"How did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Stay at the top," she breathes. "Be the best."
Quinn is slightly flattered by Kitty's awestruck voice.
"You say you're head cheerleader?"
"Handpicked by Ms. Sylvester herself." Kitty looks proud for a moment before slouching a little, her pen still poised over her notepad. "Although, nothing shines a light to you, apparently."
At this, Quinn can't work out if it's slight jealousy or awe, but she takes it in stride, gesturing for Kitty to sit down. She does - right on the piano. Quinn cringes a little, but moves to stand in front of the girl, planting her hands on her hips. She sees Kitty look up at her immediately - something akin to an officer standing at attention and it makes her want to smile, but she doesn't.
"You want to stay at the top?" Quinn asks, and immediately tries to think of something wise to tell this hopeful girl in front of her. Something helpful.
Somewhere inside her, Quinn feels as if she should feel more powerful and more accomplished, but she can't shake that nagging question of what exactly she accomplished.
"Obviously," Kitty replies. "I mean, why on earth would I want to be at the bottom?"
"Well you are in Glee Club," Quinn says lightly, trying to make a joke out of it.
Kitty's eyes harden and Quinn almost wants to retract what she just said. "I'll have you know that I only joined to keep an eye on Jake."
Quinn almost dies from trying to keep her laughter contained. "Rule one - and write this down - never pine after a Puckerman."
Kitty's brow furrows and she puts her notepad on her lap. "Why not? I mean, I know he's half-Jewish or something, but I'm sure my parents won't mind once I convert him over to Christianity."
Quinn looks slightly alarmed and she shakes her head. "I made a lot of mistakes and I've said it once, so I'll say it again: Sleeping with Puck was one of my greatest mistakes."
"Not that I'll be-" Kitty's nose crinkles and she eyes Quinn judgmentally "-spreading my legs any time soon, but what's wrong with having a bit of arm candy to boost my status? I mean that's what arm candy is for, right?"
Quinn shrugs and she can almost see the vein throb in Kitty's forehead. "Look," she says quickly. "I'm going to be the first to tell you that you definitely don't need a guy to get you through the day."
"Are you a lesbian now?" Kitty asks bluntly.
"What?"
"Nothing," Kitty mutters, even though they both know Quinn heard the question loud and clear.
"I'm trying to help you, alright? Look, the first thing I want you to know is that you'll eventually grow to love the Glee club."
At this, Kitty bursts into laughter. "You're - you're joking right? Spending the next few years with a bunch of singing dancing losers?"
"I heard you were quite the singing, dancing loser yourself on stage during that performance of Grease."
Kitty flushes. "It's - I didn't enjoy it," she says, avoiding eye contact.
"Rule two," Quinn says shortly. "Make yourself happy. Don't lie to yourself."
"What kind of tips are these? What, are you a self-help therapist?" Kitty asks, scowling. "If I wanted advice like that, I'd go to my parents. Or God." Kitty leans forward and Quinn can feel the head-cheerleader aura radiating off her. It's nothing she can't handle though. "I want to ensure my reign lasts through my entire high school career. How do I do that?" she asks, punctuating each word with a tap against her notepad.
"Look," Quinn says, trying to remain calm. "I've been there, alright? I've been the head of the chastity club, I was honour roll, I was head cheerleader-" she says this last part clearly "-and I've struggled with self-image before. I'm trying to make sure you don't make the same mistakes I did."
"Please," Kitty says dismissively. "I won't get myself knocked up."
It's like a swift kick in the stomach and Quinn almost feels the wind rushing out of her.
"That was highly uncalled for," Quinn says, her defensive instincts kicking in. She straightens and fixes Kitty with her patented glare.
"Whatever," Kitty says, rolling her eyes, but her tone is slightly less aggressive.
"Tell me what you've done so far - tell me how you've made a mark at this school."
"Well," Kitty says, straightening. "I've taken after the well-practiced tradition of slushy showers-"
"-I've never thrown a slushy at anybody," Quinn says instantly and she immediately thinks of brown hair stained with various shades of blue and purple and red and the pathetic rain-jacket.
"Not even at some of the losers in Glee club?" Kitty looks momentarily incredulous. "Well I mean, I don't like the idea of personally throwing one, but I enjoy watching it happen," she says nonchalantly.
"I-" Quinn sees a younger version of herself laughing, being cruel and then the vision seamlessly morphs into Kitty doing the same and she feels sick.
Kitty is still talking while Quinn struggles to shake away the memories that feel like a bad dream. "Also, that Marley girl - she's definitely on my list."
"Marley?" Quinn asks.
"Brown hair - boring in general. I think by being her friend, I'll probably get a lot of brownie points from that Finn Hudson. It'll put me at the top of the Glee club as well. All I need is to knock her down a peg or two."
Quinn feels lightheaded. "You don't need to do all that to stay at the top," she says faintly. "You really don't."
"But that's what they deserve, don't they? Isn't that the point of everything? Isn't that how you ensured that the social hierarchy wasn't disturbed?" Kitty argues. "People like her-"
In the forefront of Quinn's mind, she sees words like hierarchy and prom queen fade in and out and suddenly everything strikes too close to home - scratch that, everything is repeating itself. Suddenly she feels shame and disgust - all the previous self-hatred that she pushed away comes crashing down and she explodes.
"What's wrong with her exactly?" Quinn shouts. She winces and lowers her voice when Kitty looks at her wide-eyed. "What?" she demands as her vision swims momentarily and she's struck by a younger version of herself.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Shut up," Quinn snaps. "What - Is she better than you at singing? Does she have an actual life plan set out in front of her instead of focusing on being popular? Let me guess - did you start by tearing down her self-esteem? I bet you did," Quinn says, unable to stop everything from spewing out of her mouth. "I bet you feel like shit for making her miserable but there's nothing else for you do because this is who you're supposedly meant to be, right? This whole - this whole-" Quinn wants to scream in frustration, suddenly wondering why this was a good idea.
Kitty looks slightly afraid of her now. Good, Quinn thinks viciously. "They deserve to be put in their place - they're noth-"
"-You don't get it," Quinn cuts in exasperatedly. "Don't you see how it's not about where you stand, but about how you choose to act? You can't just do that to people and expect it to be OK."
Kitty blinks at her once, then twice. "You're kidding me, right? You expect me to buy into your - your BS-"
"-I've been in your place!" Quinn exclaims, throwing her hands up. Kitty quietens down. "I've been-" she struggles to maintain her composure. "I've been-" Her breath catches.
"You've been what?" Kitty demands.
You, Quinn wants to scream. I used to be you.
"Are you mute now?" Kitty asks derisively. "You're supposed to beare hero, Quinn Fabray and I have to say, I'm not impressed right now. How could you let me down like this?"
Quinn feels a strange feeling descend upon her - nothing like the flattery she felt earlier. It's uncomfortable and twisting in her chest like a vice and she takes an instinctive step back. She feels as if she's been slapped.
"I'm sorry," she says, surprised at how breathless and hoarse she sounds. "I'm-"
"-Yeah, you should be. I just wanted tips from the great Quinn Fabray, but I guess now you've become some soup-kitchen helper who actually helps the poor."
Quinn's heart clenches and she drops her hands, balling them into fists.
"You want the take-away lesson from this?" she asks.
Kitty nods eagerly, leaning forward with her pen poised to write.
Quinn reaches out and smacks the notepad out of her hand. The sound it makes with the floor is deafening. The silence that follows is even heavier.
"You-"
"-I had the best years of my life because of Glee club," Quinn says quietly. "I met the best people and I made the best friends. You won't find them anywhere else. I was disillusioned and-" she tries to breathe deeply to calm herself down, but only manages a sharp intake and a shaky sigh. "And I was such a sad, pathetic child." She puts her hand on Kitty's arm. "And that's where you're going if you don't change," she says softly.
"What - so you're saying I should be friends with all of them now? Even Marley?"
"One of the most important people in my life was somebody I used to-" Quinn breathes as a huge selection words comes to mind (Torture. Bully. Pick on.) and tries not to think of her too much or she just might break. "I would say it doesn't matter - but it really does," she finishes. "It sticks with you."
Kitty is quiet as she slides off the piano. She picks up her fallen notepad and gives Quinn a scrutinizing look before turning around.
Quinn closes her eyes as the door slams shut.
She looks for a chair, gratefully sinking down into the closest one.
How did you do it? she hears in her head.
How did she manage to stay at the top?
Easy, she thinks to herself viciously in a self-deprecating tone, grabbing the edge of her chair. I pushed her - everybody - to the bottom.
She feels like her head's about to burst, and barely manages to pull out her phone.
Rachel shuts the door behind her, effectively drowning out the sound of party raging inside her and Kurt's apartment. She fumbles with her phone, giggling as she tries to shush it.
"Hello?" she says as clearly as possible. "Rachel Berry speaking."
"Rachel, I need you - I need you to listen to me, alright?"
"Who is - Quinn? Is that you?"
She hears Quinn sigh, and then laugh. "Yes, it's me. How are you?" Quinn asks, her voice washing over Rachel like a warm blanket. She feels sleepy, so she sits. "You're not drunk, are you?" Quinn asks, and Rachel can almost see the way Quinn's brow is probably furrowed.
"Why are you calling me?" Rachel asks instead. "Why are you -" She points her finger at the opposite wall. "You never -hic- call me."
There's silence. "I'm sorry," Quinn whispers. Rachel cradles the phone closer to her head. She must have heard wrong.
"Quinn? I didn't quite catch that. Could you maybe-?"
Quinn's breath hitches. "I said, I'm sorry," Quinn says, a bit more clearly. "I'm sorry," she repeats, as if she can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you sorry for calling me? I can assure you that I definitely don't mind at all. You're free to call anytime, but I must admit now isn't quite the best-"
"-No, wait!" There's a rustling sound, then Quinn sounds clearer than before. "I'm not apologizing about calling you."
Rachel slumps against the wall. "Then what's this about?"
"I'm..I'm apologizing about everything else. Everything that's happened over the past three years. Everything that's happened between us. Every single fucking thing that I've done to you." Quinn lets out a shaky laugh and Rachel clutches her phone tighter. "I'm apologizing now," Quinn laughs. "Do you believe this? No, I bet you can't. You probably can't believe that I've actually got a shred of decency in me - that I could never be half the person you are, but God I'm trying, Rachel. I'm trying and I ju-" Quinn's voice completely cracks and Rachel can hear rapid breathing.
"Quinn," she says softly, her fingers running along the phone as if she's there - stroking away Quinn's tears. She craves that closeness - that necessary physical contact just so she can feel like everything is going to get better. "Quinn, please don't do this to yourself-"
"-The thing is," Quinn continues, as if Rachel hadn't said anything. "You're so forgiving and no matter what I do I can't shake the fact that I did those things to you and yet you're so fucking forgiving and you accepted me when nobody-" Quinn cuts off mid-ramble and Rachel hears a distinct sob.
"Quinn," she pleads.
"You should have slapped me," Quinn says. "That night at prom during our junior year. You should have slapped me. You should have punched me - you should have made me feel something for every single thing I've ever done to you."
"Quinn, violence wouldn't have been the answer," Rachel croaks, now completely sober. She slides down the wall so she's sitting down. She needs to sit down.
"No, but pain - God, Rachel - I fu - I hurt you and I just - " Quinn's broken sentences are strung together haphazardly.
"What brought this on?" Rachel asks because she has to know.
"This girl - this new girl in Glee. Kitty-"
"-She was Patty Simcox," Rachel says promptly.
Quinn laughs. "Yeah, she was - but that's not the point. She came up to me and asked me for advice."
"Advice?"
"Advice on how to stay at the top - advice on how to be popular, basically."
"Oh."
"And...well," Quinn laughs and this time it's a mean, soulless laugh. "Obviously I'd know all about that. I'd know all about pushing people down to get my way, wouldn't I? I was head cheerleader - I was the top of the metaphorical social pyramid and I shoved you all the way to the bottom."
Rachel doesn't need a reminder of that, but she lets Quinn continue, listening with rapt attention.
"I shoved you and I hurt you," Quinn whispers. "I hurt you, but you're ten times the person I'll ever be. You're so much better than me, Rachel. You were everything I wanted to be. You were everything I wanted."
Rachel thinks she couldn't possibly have heard right. "What?" she manages to choke out, sitting up straight.
Quinn is silent and Rachel thinks she might have stopped breathing. "You were everything I wanted to be," she repeats, but Rachel knows what she heard.
"Quinn..."
"No - I just needed to tell you that. I need you to know how sorry I am," she rushes to say.
Rachel can hear the tell-tale sign of a conversation coming to a close. She struggles to hold on. "Quinn, wait-"
"-And I was just wondering, could I come visit you next weekend?"
Rachel almost cries at the method of deflection Quinn uses, because there's no way she could say no to that, ever. "Of course, Quinn. I'm actually kind of disappointed you haven't visited earlier - granted I haven't visited you either. We should definitely put your wonderful gift to good use."
Quinn exhales deeply over the phone. "Yeah," she whispers. "Yeah, we should."
"Get some rest, Quinn."
"You too, Rachel," Quinn says gratefully.
Quinn feels emotionally drained. She tries to arrange her face into one of indifference when Santana pokes her head in, but she knows that the girl can see right through her.
"Hey, ready to get dinner at Breadstix?"
"Yeah," Quinn nods, managing to smile.
"Feels good to be home, doesn't it?" Santana says lightly, as they walk down the hallway.
"This isn't home," Quinn says quietly, making Santana falter in her steps. She meets Santana's eyes and she feels like she understands. "Not anymore, anyway."
She thinks of forgiveness and a long-overdue embrace.
