Five.
She sighs, the hand clutching a bouquet falling limply to the side. No response from her phone, no matter how many times per second she checks. Somewhere deep in her heart, she knows Santana's right. She's not coming.
Finn calls her name repeatedly, tries to shake her into mobility by her arms before her fathers step in to restrain him. A loud debate between them - and Finn's parents - ensues over whether or not they should postpone. She barely registers any of it over the mantra that echoes through her, body and soul. She's not coming, she's not coming, she's not-
"Hey, Rachel," Santana's voice rises above the chaos in her mind. It sounds more than a little annoyed, but Rachel knows that to be more or less her usual state. "Why don't we take a deep breath, get out of these clothes and into something a little less heinously polyester, and then try calling her?" She gives a shrug and glances over her shoulder at Brittany. "Maybe she just can't text right now." A series of nods from the others accompany her.
Rachel sighs again and peers one last time at her phone. Still nothing. A thousand 'what ifs' pound in her head. What if this is Quinn's last 'gotcha!'? What if this is all just a plan to stop the wedding through indirect means? What if she's secretly wanted Finn back all this time? What if, after everything they've gone through, Quinn still doesn't…like her?
She looks up to Finn, whose face registers something between consternation and reluctant acceptance. She starts to apologize, to explain for the hundredth time just how important Quinn is to her even after this mess, but the words don't quite come out. The first time in her life she's ever been rendered so speechless. She supposes the others would give Quinn a medal on any other day but today.
He just nods, though, because it's written in his eyes just how much he knows their wedding won't happen today. "I'll take you home," he says and rubs a hand over her shoulder.
She shakes her head. "No, being alone right now would…" Would result in her spending all night staring at that damn phone. Would result in her stomping down to the Fabray home and demanding an answer. Would result in the angriest and most ill-conceived Facebook status update ever. "Let's just go back to your place. I'm sure Quinn-" She chokes on even the name itself. "-Quinn had a good reason. I'm sure we'll hear from her soon."
They file out of the waiting room, two-by-two. She hears Mercedes speaking to Tina in hushed whispers behind her, no doubt declaring yet another 'hot damn mess'.
Four.
She curls further into herself atop the Hummel couch, only barely acknowledging the continued presence of Kurt and Finn. They've been trading off in attempts to console her. Finn doesn't quite understand how badly she wanted Quinn there, while Kurt…seems to. At least, a heavy dose of pity reflects in his eyes every time she can bare to glance up. They sing her songs, ones they both have and haven't performed previously in glee club. It's when Finn starts to rumble his way through "Keep Holding On" that the dam breaks and tears course down her cheeks to a rapidly growing wet splotch on the fabric.
"She said-" Rachel tries to sputter through sobs. "S-She said she wanted to be there. She wanted me to be happy." She snorts in a decidedly unattractive manner as she scrubs a hand across her nose. "How could she just…not be there?! The one time I needed her to be there! And after all those times I've been there for her!"
Kurt rakes a hand through her hair, only barely loosened from her wedding updo. "I know, sweetie," he murmurs. "I'm sure something just came up."
She gives another snort and catches Finn walking back into the room with another mug of tea. Chamomile. He's learning. Or he just let Kurt actually prepare it. She sits up and takes a tiny sip, careful to not burn her tongue, before setting it down atop their coffee table. "What could possibly-"
Her phone beeps. She falls all over herself in a desperate scramble to reach it.
It's Santana.
Three.
Her earlier weeping is no match for the sheer agony writ large across her face as she sits in the hospital waiting room. Finn and Kurt flank her, as always, each rubbing a hand over her arms. Blaine just sits dutifully next to them, quiet and picking at his nails. Tina's nearby, balled up on Mike's lap as he tries to keep a brave face. Mercedes just leans against Sam and blots under her eyes every few seconds.
Santana's manic and flailing and ranting in something vaguely Spanish as she marches back and forth. Brittany tries unsuccessfully to tug her into a chair with each pass. Rachel thinks she'd find the entire display hysterical were it not for the cause. Were it not for Judy Fabray sitting just across the way.
She's met the woman all of once and and can't begin to fathom what she could possibly be going through as a mother. Rachel can't even look at her more than a second or two without a fresh set of sobs bursting forth. She can see clear strain in the woman's eyes even from where she's sitting. Another day, another time, she'd be marching over to wrap her in the Rachel Berry-est of hugs.
Movement catches her eye, and she tears away to look around. Her breath catches as she spies the salt-and-pepper-haired doctor, still in surgical scrubs and cap - her fathers imparted many an episode of ER onto her - and twiddling his fingers nervously. Nervous is never good, she knows. Never. "Mrs. Fabray?" he asks, glancing around the area at the several pairs of keen eyes shooting lasers in his direction.
Judy stands up on visibly wobbly legs, purse clutched in her hands. "Y-Yes, that's me…" she murmurs. She looks as afraid to hear news as Rachel herself feels.
"Quinn's out of surgery now, ma'am," he says with a tiny upward curl of his lips. "She's stable." These words are met with the loudest joint sigh of relief on record. Rachel feels nearly faint. "But," he punctuates once the rumbling dies down, "she's not out of the woods yet. We're going to be prepping her for additional surgery in a few minutes, but we thought you might like to see her beforehand."
A nurse steps up to usher Judy off through a pair of double doors, and Rachel leaps to her feet before the doctor has a chance to follow suit. "C-Can we…also…?"
He turns back to look at her, at them all. "I'm sorry, miss. Family only right now." He gives her a smile that she's sure is meant to be reassuring. "She's going to be in surgery for most of the night. You kids should go home and get some rest."
Rest sounds an impossible task but when Finn loops an arm around her waist to guide her out of the hospital, her mind finally registers the sheer exhaustion her body's been screaming this whole time.
Two.
She insists to Finn and Kurt that they return to the hospital first thing in the morning, even though none of them have heard any updates. Sitting in the waiting room makes her feel better, though, like as long as she's as close as she can get at the moment, Quinn won't fade away from her. From them. She's not the only one whose friend is in danger, she reminds herself.
Santana and Brittany are already curled up in chairs by the time they storm through the sliding glass. Santana meets her gaze for a brief moment, her eyes red and glowing likely from a sheer lack of sleep the previous night. Brittany looks a little more rested, but not by much.
Judy's nowhere to be seen, however. "Is Quinn's mom-"
Santana interrupts her with a shrug. "Haven't seen her," she replies. "Might be home still. Might be with Quinn. Might even be at church."
Rachel sighs and leans further against Kurt's shoulder. More of the waiting game, though she supposes it's a good sign that none of the nurses or doctors have yet approached them with… She can't even think the words, lest they burst forth into a picture of Quinn's broken, bloodied, lifeless body. She closes her eyes, letting her mind sink into happier things. Quinn getting into Yale. Quinn-
A door swings open, shaking her from a doze, and a blonde woman appears, glances around the area, then marches over to where they're all gathered. Younger than Judy, older than Quinn. Same scowl that Rachel's been overly familiar with for several years now. A relative, Rachel guesses, and the word jolts up out of her chair. "You're… Is she…?" So many half-formed questions, all in desperate need of an answer.
"She's awake. You can come in to see her, one at a time."
One.
She practically wrestles Santana for the chance to be the first among them to see Quinn. She hears Finn calling out whether or not he can go with but the only reply is the nameless Fabray letting the door slam shut in his face. He's just looking out for her, she knows, but even she thinks the question is silly immediately on the heels of being told "one at a time".
She follows through the hospital halls in almost a daze, paying hardly any attention to the medical hustle. It's not long before they're staring at a featureless door with a tiny wired window. She almost can't bare to step forward after Quinn's someone-or-other eases it open and enters, but she does. She can't turn away now…
…but the sight of Quinn bandaged from head to toe, eyes closed and breath shaky, nearly sends her scurrying right back to the waiting room as fast as her legs could possibly carry her. She approaches her bedside on unsteady feet, nonetheless, and Judy gives her a wan smile and encouraging nod. "Q-Quinn…?" she asks in a whisper, reaching for her free gauze-wrapped hand.
Hazel eyes crack open and slowly roll over to look at her. She almost heaves a sob, she's so glad to look at those eyes and-
"Get…out…"