Title: They Had to Scrape Me Off the Floor
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Synopsis: Quinn has to figure out how to get through the muck of depression. Rachel trails lightly behind, ready to help when needed.
Author's Note: Hey guys, been a long damn time, I know. Hopefully the next couple of weeks will see at least 2 or 3 more updates in this and/or other stories. Lyrics from "Stars" by The Weepies.
–
2. Recovery
Pink Magnolia, blushing and coy
Savors the sun while she shines
You've got yours and I've got mine
Together we glide through the blue-velvet dark and stars
Rachel entered her room as quietly as possible. Her clock read 5:32AM and Quinn was passed out, a foot peeking out from beneath Rachel's comforter. She was snoring, but lightly enough for it to be only mildly amusing. Sipping at her glass of water, Rachel sat on the edge of the bed, eyes lingering on the sleeping form beside her.
This was the third time since that fateful knock on the door that Quinn had stayed the night. Rachel was in a state of mild disbelief because in those short few days, she'd felt an awakened and intense pull to Quinn. It held no nuance other than strong. Yet it was quiet and subtle, like a half-remembered dream. Rachel touched a lock of blonde hair gently before getting off the bed and getting in the shower, the door clicking behind her.
–
"I'm not sure how much longer -" Hiram was whispering hotly to his husband, brows knitted together in apparent irritation. His husband gave a brief warning 'shush' as both Rachel and Quinn entered the room, already having been within earshot.
"Ready to go girls?" Leroy asked interestedly, straightening his husband's tie before grabbing the second set of car keys.
Rachel nodded. Beside her, Quinn was shifting lightly back and forth on her feet. Last night the Berry dads had driven her to her mother's house to get clothes for today. She was looking her Cheerio-best, white sneakers and all. Her hair, however, hung loosely around her face. Rachel had been lucky enough to see the process of decision, and felt as if she'd seen another facet of Quinn's vulnerability. Unlike the haughty expression the blonde wore while she looked in the mirror at school, Quinn had been frowning at her reflection while deciding upon her hairstyle. She didn't know Rachel was paying attention. There had been a crease between Quinn's eyebrows and it was difficult to ignore the suggestion of disdain it held.
Rachel hadn't said anything, only cleared her throat and announced that it was time to leave for school.
In the car, trees zipping by, Quinn's gaze was again cloudy, distracted. Rachel reached over and delicately, almost fearfully, touched Quinn's knee. After all, the intimacy and the bond they'd developed over the last few days had been in a contained environment. That would no doubt change the moment they were in public together. She didn't even know if Quinn considered her a friend, but she hoped so.
"I'll be fine," Quinn spoke quietly, sounding doubtful of her own words. "It's not like anyone knows – just you – about this weekend."
"About -"
"About me having that kind of breakdown," Quinn glanced over, clarifying. Her expression shifted a little as she seemed to realize Rachel's concern might be related to whether or not Quinn was ashamed that she had spent the weekend at Rachel's. It had been like an extended sleepover, really. However, Rachel wasn't popular, wasn't on the list of acceptable people for Cheerios to hang out with. (Literally. Jacob Ben Isreal had found a list just outside the girl's locker room and proceeded to share it with the whole school.)
Rachel nodded simply. "Nobody knows. For all they know you're feeling just as you normally do."
"Nobody actually pays attention to how I feel," Quinn glanced away with a subtle shake of her head. "Trust me."
Rachel made a vow there to make Quinn Fabray feel genuinely valued. And cared for. She swallowed her fear and reached over, fingers squeezing Quinn's hand meaningfully and guiding it between them. Quinn's expression gave away her surprise, her hazel gaze dropping between them. Maybe she, too, had been expecting their bond to disappear as soon as they left the Berry household. She looked searchingly at Rachel, seemingly at a loss for words. Rachel wanted to say too many things, and they all sat heavily on her tongue.
Tension built in her chest as she noted the way Quinn seemed to have stopped breathing. And then – fingers, slipping over the top of Rachel's grip, sandwiching Rachel's hand between both of Quinn's. Delicate and ever so brief.
The car stopped and their hands separated rather quickly, Quinn's entire body language changing as soon as she stepped out of the car. "Thank you for the ride, Mr. Berry. And for being so hospitable."
"See you later, Dad," Rachel leaned between the front seats, pressing her lips to her father's cheek and getting out of the car just after Quinn.
Quinn waited, to Rachel's surprise. It made her heart flutter. Quinn had waited expectantly a few feet away after saying goodbye to Rachel's father, eyes searching for Rachel in the passing bodies. In silence, they walked beside one another, closer than one might have expected before.
Now, it seemed, a thread tethered them closely. They didn't exchange words in those early hours, only parting in silence, but it was in the way Quinn made it a point to search Rachel's face before they parted that made Rachel's heart stammer against her ribs. Before she could say anything or even wave, her former enemy – now friend? – was being surrounded by Cheerios.
Rachel wasn't sure if she imagined the weight of a stare at her back, but she flushed red anyway.
–
Most of the day, through lunch, everything had been pretty normal. Until the guidance counselor came in, passing out pamphlets. Rachel wasn't sure what they were about – she hadn't gotten one yet – but judging by the expressions of amusement, confusion, and surprise, it was something sexual. One of the younger boys yelled something about barebacking and everyone erupted in laughter at his table.
It was movement at the Cheerio table that caught Rachel's attention. Santana was reaching for a fleeing Quinn, hand flailing in the air after her but failing to catch her. Quinn reached back roughly, slapping away Santana's hand.
Taken by something she couldn't explain, Rachel got up loudly from her own table and grabbed a pamphlet from a nearby table.
PREGNANCY=REGRET: WHY YOU SHOULD WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!
She didn't even need to leaf through the pamphlet. Rachel knew Quinn would need her, and regardless of the confused and annoyed way Santana was staring at her in passing, Rachel took off at a run. She wasn't sure where to even begin looking for Quinn. Normally she'd check the nearest bathroom since that was always where they seemed to find one another when they didn't want to, but something in her hit the autopilot button.
Through the choir room shades Rachel was able to see Quinn's hunched figure in the back row. She tried the door handle but was a little surprised to find it locked. Habit, she thought, developed while hiding from an alcoholic mother or living with Puck's family. Quinn's eternal need to protect herself.
Rachel hesitantly tapped on the glass. Once, and then when she heard Quinn stop crying, she tapped the glass again. The shades parted briefly, one reddened hazel eye staring at her. The lock clicked and the door opened. Quinn had hidden half her body behind the door and closed it just as quickly behind Rachel as she had opened it. She locked the door again.
"Quinn -" Rachel began, having rehearsed and written a whole comforting script in her head, but she was instead suddenly burdened with the weight of Quinn's shaking form and stumbled back, warm arms slipping around her and fingers digging into her shoulders. Quinn buried her face against Rachel's neck.
It would not do to leave Quinn open to ridicule. If anyone saw her in such a state, they'd take the first chance they could to put salt in her wounds. Weakness, in the higher social ranks, was preyed upon. Rachel glanced back as best she could, ensuring the door was locked and the shades were drawn, and she delicately disengaged from Quinn and guided her as delicately as possible to the back of the room. Quinn collapsed into a chair, speechless in grief and from tears, but before Rachel could sit, Quinn's hands were slipping around the brunette's waist and forcing her forward. Surprised at the ferocity of Quinn's need to have physical comfort, it took Rachel's body a moment to respond.
Rachel sifted fingers through Quinn's hair as the blonde head ducked forward and a face was pressed against Rachel's navel. "Sweetie," Rachel whispered delicately, leaning forward as much as she was able, wanting to hold Quinn fully. Resigned to this standing position, she waited for Quinn to calm down (ignoring the bruising and painful way Quinn's fingers were digging into her lower back) before she disengaged and kneeled before Quinn, hands reaching to her legs and catching the blonde's falling hands. "It's okay."
"The universe is really fucked up, you know?" Quinn spat pathetically, face reddened with grief. "I'm so tired of – I don't want to hurt like this anymore. It's haunting me. And then this stupid – why would a counselor ever pass out a pamphlet like that?"
"It did have a really badly written title -" Rachel joked quietly, catching Quinn's eyes and squeezing her hands delicately. "I'm sorry," she added in a gentler tone. "I know that certain things are going to be triggering right now."
"I almost thought you were Santana but she would've yelled through the door," Quinn spoke after a few moments, still slightly gasping with tears. Rachel had barely tapped with her fingertips. The brunette fell silent, playing with the tips of Quinn's fingers before standing up and taking the seat next to her.
"Can I ask you something?" Rachel let go of Quinn's hand (with some reluctance), cleared her throat a little, "Why did you come to me? Why my house, of all places?"
Quinn covered her face for a moment, giving a brief sob tinged with laughter, "You're the only person I trust."
The admission was astonishing. "You have spent all this time – not recently, but before … you spent so much time bringing me down. And then this weekend – you came to me like we've always been close."
"I always felt close to you," the tone in Quinn's voice made Rachel hold her breath a little, tension and anxiety sitting on her chest. "I hated you because I wanted you to protect yourself from people like me."
Rachel avoided Quinn's eyes as they rose to search her expression. She didn't know how to feel about this admission. It didn't make much sense to her. Clasping her palms together, she turned them over and stared at the lines there as if she could understand the meaning of these events.
"Rachel, if I hadn't come over to your house this weekend, would you still have run after me today?"
Nodding, Rachel gave a half-smile. "You know I would have."
"That's why I came to you. You've never had any reason to care about me but you always have. I have given you every reason to hate me and – you never have," Quinn whispered the last bit, covering her eyes momentarily. "I'd trust you with my life, Rachel. All this – all the things we've been through, logically I know it's all relatively pointless and that the world continues on after we graduate. I see you as a constant. You're a still point in all of this awfulness, most of it which I create."
"You don't," Rachel soothed, reaching over again.
"I do. That's not the point though. You're the one who knocked on the door today when – you could've just let someone else do it."
Rachel swallowed a knot in her throat and felt the warmth of Quinn's shoulder next to hers. "We both know I never let someone else take the lead," she joked in a quiet tone.
Quinn's laughter rung beside her, clear and sweet like a bell.
Nothing could have made Rachel smile any more happily than that sound. And she didn't understand why, but maybe sometimes one has the follow the tugging of their heart, wherever it takes them. She nudged Quinn gently, "Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah, I just wish I could stop crying at the smallest things. It seems like all I am is this wadded up mess of sadness and anger," Quinn admitted. Neither could meet each other in the eye – too much was swirling between them and eye contact would've made it all multiply, the good and the bad.
"I'm sorry," Rachel didn't know what you said to someone when they felt that way. She surmised that anything she said might be relatively pointless, "I can promise you that one day it gets just a little easier and the depression won't be so heavy."
"Does this mean we're friends now?" Quinn's question was surprisingly full of uncertainty. "I wasn't sure if you'd – I mean of course my friends are going to say something because that's the only thing they know how to do – but I didn't know if you – after everything I've done." A groan of frustration, "God – I can't even speak properly when it comes to how I'm feeling. It's like someone's stolen 89% of my vocabulary. I'm even spelling things wrong."
"Depression, from what I know, makes a sort of fog. Your brain has a hard time focusing," Rachel soothed the best way she could. "I'm not saying anything you've done to me in the past is right, or that you get a free pass, but – " the brunette took a small breath, reached over, fingers delicately grazing Quinn's wrist. Their fingers tangled the second Quinn's palm turned over. "I'm not going anywhere. Seeing you cry -" Rachel shook her head, "I don't think you understand how much I care about you."
They both fell into a mutual silence, neither bothering to disengage their fingers from the tangle. Rachel, in retrospect, never thought she'd see the day when Quinn Fabray was confiding in her or allowing her to hold her hand. Regardless of her confusion over the fresh bond between them, she was grateful for this very moment. And she was grateful Quinn would be alright.
–
A well-manicured hand slammed Rachel's locker shut right as she lifted her book out of it. Squealing, she moved away from the intrusion only to find a taller body behind her, two pale hands grasping her shoulders.
"So now that you're Quinn's friend or whatever we can't slushie you but I need you to know one thing -" Santana Lopez tapped her finger roughly against Rachel's shoulder, eliciting a small, pained sound, "- this does not mean you are safe."
"I mean she kinda is because that's really the only -" Brittany had begun thoughtfully. Her grip on Rachel wasn't firm at all, and if Rachel really thought about it, Brittany was kind of pulling her closer as she spoke. A long blonde lock of hair dipped by her ear and she moved away from it a little. "Santana, why are we threatening her? Quinn said she's totally cool now."
"Look at that sweater – do you really think she's cool?" Santana rolled her eyes a bit before examining Rachel closely, "Just watch it, Berry. If you're using Quinn or trying to get some popularity points or something equally lame, you'll see what it's like to be on my bad side."
Brittany pressed a kiss to Rachel's cheek before skipping off after Santana, who seemed to be scolding her girlfriend for being too kind. Rachel caught the tail-end of Brittany's question, "-n't you like cats? Her sweater had a cat on it."
What a very confusing encounter. She assumed, from what she could glean, that Quinn's closest friends, the Cheerios, now knew that Quinn was going to be associating with Rachel in social settings. She also absently appreciated the fact that they were afraid for Quinn and wanted to be sure their friend wasn't being taken advantage of. It just confirmed the hope that Quinn had more than just one Rachel Berry on her team through this very difficult time.
A panting Quinn came through the after-school crowd, "Am I too late? Did they find you?"
Donning a very somber look, Rachel nodded and turned to open her locker. "Oh, yes. It was pretty terrible. Brittany kind of spooned me and Santana tried to come up with a threat. And told me that I'd better not be using your friendship to gain popularity."
Quinn groaned, "I'm sorry, I told them that you weren't the kind of person to ever take advantage but then -"
"I rolled plus ten toward Slushie Immunity though, so my fathers will be happy about that."
"You what?"
Okay, apparently Quinn had never played D&D. Rachel made a mental note not to use those references despite her disappointment; she'd kind of hoped Quinn was a closet nerd. "They said they can't slushie me anymore. You realize this means I don't have to buy new clothes every few weeks?"
"Oh," Quinn replied, glancing down the hall where she must have supposed her friends had gone. "They said they couldn't do that anymore?"
"Yes, they must value your feelings. I for one am glad that they care enough to look out for you."
Hopefully it wouldn't be a brittle peace between Rachel and the Cheerios. Her friendship with Quinn was, however, officially a public affair. So when she reached forward to touch Quinn's arm, she was glad to feel a hand cover her own briefly. They exchanged meaningful smiles, Rachel's heart lifting at the sight of Quinn's.
"How are you feeling?" She asked quietly after the contact broke. Side by side, they passed through the front doors and down the sidewalk, where inevitably Rachel's fathers would be waiting to pick Rachel up. She regretted this moment – a part of her wished Quinn was coming home with her. She worried about the state of things once Quinn returned to her mother's home. Had the woman even noticed her child was gone? Had she cared?
"I'm okay," Quinn replied, eyes seeming to linger at the line of cars. She walked a little slower than usual. "I'm scared to go home."
Rachel glanced aside, eyes drifting upward to search Quinn's expression. She wanted to offer her home for Quinn, but something in her knew the offer would be rejected. She also had a feeling Hiram and Leroy were kind of annoyed with the extended stay.
"I have to, though," Quinn sighed, "That's the worst part. I have nowhere else to go and I don't have any of my clothing with me, so it's not like I could be anywhere else for long. I mean – at one point I was sleeping in my car."
Rachel vaguely recalled a part of that narrative, but it still surprised her and made her heart ache. The image of Quinn sleeping in her own car made a knot form in her throat. She reached over, taking a gentle hold of Quinn's elbow. "You know you have somewhere to go."
"I know. I mean – I – " she seemed to want to say something else, but her hazel eyes clouded with uncertainty. And then her gaze dropped to the ground at their feet. "I want to. I don't think I've been so comfortable anywhere before – " there was almost a hint at the end, ghosts of words unspoken. Something that made Rachel's heart stutter in its pace. "I have to try to stay at my house though. Maybe I can get through to my mother. Maybe if she knows what I'm going through... she'll stop what she's doing."
Rachel nodded in understanding, "At least call? I'm sure – even if they seem cranky about it – my fathers would be happy to take me to come get you if you need to leave. If something happens." Her eyes searched Quinn's face. In truth her fear was that the moment Quinn was left alone she might lapse into that headspace she had been in. The last thing she wanted to be was the person who could've done something to stop it.
Quinn waved behind Rachel. "Hey Mr. Berry!" She greeted kindly before looking again at Rachel. The brunette had to admit she'd never been so disappointed to know her fathers were here. The shorter girl stepped forward and took Quinn's hands, turned them over before she let them go, wrapping her arms around Quinn's neck, standing all the way up on the very tips of her toes. To her surprise, Quinn not only hugged her back – publicly! – but held on nearly tight enough for Rachel to feel the wind squeezed from her lungs. And she didn't mind.
Rachel wanted to say so much, wanted to plead with Quinn to be safe and to text her every moment, anything to soothe the deep fear that Quinn might still be on that precipice. Instead she could only tangle her fingers in the wispy hairs at the back of Quinn's neck. "Promise to call?"
"Pinkie promise."
So they parted, Rachel feeling a pang of something as she watched Quinn's still figure gazing down the road as the car moved further away. She only vaguely registered Hiram's voice, too busy watching the rear-view mirror.
–
"She still hasn't called," Rachel bolted into the livingroom, her cell phone clutched in her hand. "Dad, Daddy, what if something happened? What if she's still depressed or in a bad state of mind and I was wrong to let her go back home?" Panic clutched her chest.
"Sweetheart," Hiram soothed delicately.
"Rachel Barbra Berry," Leroy stood, a little more firm in the way he parented in the midst of Rachel's panic. He took her by the shoulders and pushed her gently to a chair. "Your friend is a perfectly capable lady. She came here when she knew it was safest not to be in the environment she was in. Don't you think, after the nice weekend you both had, the way you helped her, that she'd rather – "
"Stick around, so to speak," Hiram finished his husband's sentence, kneeling beside Rachel's chair. "She's going to be fine. It's only 8:30. Maybe she's finally having a real discussion with her mother. It could be going better than you think."
Leroy nodded. "Besides, she doesn't seem like the kind of girl to break a promise. You told us she promised that she'd call."
Rachel conceded silently with a nod, fingers running circles over her leg. "You're both right."
"We were going to ask – "
"Maybe now isn't the best time, Hiram."
"Do you like this girl?"
Rachel looked up, flabberghasted. "I mean I – she's – we have a very complicated – "
"You've been fixated on her, darling. Ever since you met the girl. She's been cruel, and I can't say I like that, but your father and I see the way you interact and it reminds us – "
"Of us."
"You?"
"Leroy made my life a living hell in college. He was Mister Football and I was – well, an admissions geek. I gave the freshman tours on campus. I thought I hated him, or that I should, but when a fraternity picked him to be a scapegoat I was the first one to come to his defense in front of a whole committee. It turns out he was only a jerk because feelings were a totally alien concept to him."
Rachel raised an eyebrow and glanced between her fathers.
"We're not saying that cruelty is acceptable, but we are saying that maybe you two girls have been trying to manifest your feelings in the wrong ways. Fighting over the same boy who – quite honestly – neither of you really wanted in the end."
"The girl we met this weekend wasn't the same girl that's been torturing you. Something's changed her and I think it's safe to say that having you around may be good for her. And maybe – "
Rachel couldn't really believe she was hearing all this. It wasn't that Quinn was female. She'd never been silly enough to think that she should limit who she might love. It was just that her fathers had essentially called her out for having been fixated on Quinn all this time. It was true, they had been passionate toward one another – regardless of whether it was a negative passion or otherwise – even as they tortured one another. And then with Quinn's sudden vulnerability toward Rachel and the strange, strong bond that had grown over the weekend, it seemed that her fathers might actually be a little bit right.
"Let this friendship develop, honey. Take time to enjoy it. We're not saying you should give us a reason to ban sleepovers with Quinn, but you seem happier around her. That's something I can get behind," Leroy finished, silencing his husband with a pat on his shoulder.
Rachel, silenced as well, nodded. Her mouth felt dry. Did she really like Quinn? She cared about Quinn. Felt deeply for Quinn. And – okay, there was some romantic tension there these last few days, once Quinn had relaxed a little.
There was a sense of rightness and completion when she was around Quinn. Quinn, to Rachel, felt like an inevitability. She could be 45 years old and turn a corner and wouldn't feel a drop of surprise if she found Quinn there.
–
Doing ok. Mom's drunk though. Depressed but not BAD. - Q
You had me so worried! It's 10PM! - R*
I was thinking about some stuff. I'm sry. - Q
It's ok. What stuff? - R*
… Idk. I just miss being around u and that's weird. - Q
Oh...- R*
Like it was only a few days. I just got used to waking up n u being there. - Q
Rachel's stomach flipped a little. In truth, her bed felt a little empty. And the hoodie Quinn had been wearing was still laying on the pillow. Rachel tucked it gently against her side and lay back.
I miss you too, Quinn. - R*
I don't like being around my mom. When she's drunk she gets mad or gets weird. I want to leave. - Q
Come over? It's safe here. - R*
It's stupid but what if I've been wrong about why I was so mean to u. - Q
It's ok if you are. I'm not going anywhere. It's ok to not know. - R*
Can u come get me? - Q
I'll ask Dad. - R*
–
Rachel watched Quinn step out of her house, backback slung over her shoulder, feeling a conflicting set of emotions. She was happy to see Quinn, upset at the reasons Quinn didn't want to be in her own home, and upset with herself for being happy that Quinn was coming over. It didn't feel appropriate under the circumstances.
The blonde opened the back car door and slipped in with relative quiet, stifling a yawn. "Thank you, Mr. Berry. Other Mr. Berry."
Rachel gave a small, genuine smile. She searched Quinn's face; was she upset? Was she okay?
"I looked up that reference you made," Quinn spoke by way of greeting Rachel, albeit quietly. "Don't tell me you play D&D?"
"Once or twice. It's not as bad as you think," Rachel defended with a coy smile. "If you're going to be my friend you must accept that sometimes I am very nerdy."
Quinn rolled her eyes, but smiled afterward. "I suppose."
The drive back to Rachel's wasn't very long, and both of the Berry dads said their goodnights, gave Rachel slight warning glances, and headed off to bed. Leroy had also kissed Rachel on the forehead and murmured, "No funny business."
Rachel felt a strange nervousness. This time felt different. After all, Quinn's text had left her slightly confused and slightly excited. It could mean many things, but maybe Rachel hoped her dads were right. Maybe she hoped Quinn's feelings had just long-manifested in a different way. Maybe she hoped the wires were uncrossed now. She closed the door as Quinn dropped her bag next to the bed.
"You're sure it's okay if I stay for the rest of the week? I'm sure your dads aren't happy about the extra mouth to feed."
"They're not," Rachel gave an apologetic smile, "but they wouldn't ever turn away someone who needed a place to stay. Especially someone who's important to me."
Quinn studied Rachel, palms spread over her stomach. The silence unnerved Rachel but before she could speak, Quinn sat up and tugged at Rachel's hand. Obligingly, the shorter girl sat down and looked curiously at Quinn. Tooclose. Too close.
"What?"
"I don't know why, but you're important to me too. I think you pretty much always have been. I expended so much energy trying to – " Quinn trailed off, shaking her head momentarily.
Rachel reached forward, drawing her fingers along the cusp of Quinn's ear, "It's okay. Let's just – have a good week together." She flushed warmly when Quinn's eyes fluttered shut.
She was determined to not let her hormones or her feelings run away from her.
"I'm glad you're okay. I was really worried that you'd – "
Quinn leaned forward, pulling Rachel against her, the shorter girl's arms tucked against Quinn's chest. Rachel had never really put much thought into how lovely Quinn's embraces felt. Her eyes closed and she was fisting the fabric of Quinn's sweater. Breathing as quietly as possible, she pressed the bridge of her nose to Quinn's collarbone. "I don't think I could now," came the gentle voice, a shimmering, beautiful assertion.
