life goes on, it gets so heavy
the wheel breaks the butterfly
every tear a waterfall
in the night, the stormy night, she'll close her eyes
in the night, the stormy night, away she'd fly
Puck drove her home that night after Miss Pillsbury's questions had gone unanswered. He promised he wouldn't tell, and he kissed her forehead in a brotherly way. There was no love there. "If you need anything," Puck said, moving to grab her hand. Quinn pulled back, "anything, just call me." He carried on, undeterred by the movement.
Quinn nodded and went inside. Her mum didn't care about her - Quinn could come and go and she'd be none the wiser. God was her father now, and he took up all her mother's time. Quinn was glad for that today. Today, she could slip upstairs, unnoticed, and collapse on the bed.
She could bury her face in the pillow and cry, as if her body was wringing itself dry, but the tears kept coming.
–––
Quinn went to school the next day. She couldn't show fault in her exterior. Rachel and Puck, they knew - the teachers knew. But Quinn Fabray would not allow anyone else to see her weakness.
She held her breath to steady her hand, drawing a thin line across her eyelid, framing her red-rimmed eyes. Concealer was slathered beneath her eyes, covering up the dark circles. Around her mouth it covered the bruising, but not the swelling. There was a small red line in her gum, a cut, but it had since stopped bleeding. Quinn didn't smile too broadly anyway, no one would notice.
In front of the mirror she stood, running gravel-burnt hands down the front of her Cheerio's uniform.
–––
As she had thought, no one noticed.
Quinn was happy. She told herself she was happy, in between the sympathetic glances she caught from Rachel. The brunette hovered around her, worse now than she had been when Quinn was smoking. Technically she hadn't quit the habit, but she wasn't in a position to buy more - not without Matthew - and it wasn't that big a concern for her.
Santana gave her odd looks - head tilted to the side, and a faint smile across her lips - but she didn't comment on anything. They spoke about normal Cheerio business - about practice, about who in the school needed to learn their place, about Glee club.
"Man, Rachel is all over you like a leech." Santana noted, twisting a chunk of hair tight around her finger. Brittany was pushing her lunch across her plate, spearing her tots as they rolled around.
Quinn didn't know what to say. She looked up, meeting Santana's eyes, which were focused over her shoulder. Quinn turned around the catch Rachel standing a few metres behind her, frown evident. Their eyes met, and Rachel raised a hand, managing a tight smile before disappearing completely.
"What's all that about, Q?" Santana pressed, resting one elbow on the hard metal tables and cradling her cheek in an open palm.
Quinn shook her head, snorting, but her heart wasn't in it. "I don't know, she's probably trying to get me to help her with her Finn problem or something." The blonde mumbled, laying her hand on the table and drawing patterns along the grazes there.
"What happened to your hands?" Brittany asked, attention drawn away from destroying her food with a plastic fork.
Quinn almost jumped. Instead she shoved her hand under the table, hiding it from view. "I fell in the car park yesterday. Puck was taking me home." She covered, speech coming quicker than normal.
Brittany's eyes focused on her with a look that belied her 'dumb blonde' reputation. Santana just laughed, reaching over to take Brittany's hand in her own, "Puck, huh? Got a thing for his baby mumma again?"
Things felt normal again.
Quinn pressed down the sudden longing she'd felt when Brittany pressed her for answers.
She missed talking to someone about her problems. She missed talking to Matthew.
–––
Every afternoon, Quinn took her time packing up. She'd run chores for the teachers, stay late to help Coach Sylvester clean up... whatever she could to avoid going out into the parking lot. Quinn knew that once she got there, there'd be no car waiting for her. No willing ear to listen, no gift waiting on the seat. Quinn could recall the bear she'd seen there. Where was it now? Had Matthew kept it, or thrown it out?
Was he even going to come back?
Quinn sat on the asphalt, out of the way of any cars. She felt like a lost kid. Every time a car like this passed by, same colour and shape, her heart would leap into her throat, and then fall back down again.
Matthew wasn't going to come.
No matter how long she sat there, even after the football practice had finished, no one was coming.
Quinn reluctantly got to her feet and started the long walk home.
–––
No one at Glee said anything to her, but Quinn got the distinct feeling they were all minding their words.
"Quinn." Mr Schue said, addressing her for the first time since he'd tried to comfort her after everything that happened with Matthew. She looked up, eyes tired and lidded. "Would you like to show the class what you and Puck have been practicing for sectionals?"
Her automatic reaction was to shake her head, but the teacher had his eyes focused sharply on her. Quinn sighed heavily, ensuring everyone heard it, before getting to her feet. Puck followed her up, guitar slung around his shoulders.
Thankfully, he did all the talking. Quinn just had to stand there and suffer through the ridiculous jokes Puck and Finn shared about the deeper meaning behind their song choice. "It was mostly Rachel's choice. Me and Quinn just killed it with our stunning voices, hey?" He joked, nudging her side with an elbow, already laughing when Quinn jumped back.
Her eyes widened, and her breath stuttered. For a second, her heart stopped beating. A look passed over Puck's face, a sudden revelation of what he'd done. "Oh, shit, Quinn." Puck said, voice low - he'd promised to keep what had happened secret, and he was trying.
Quinn wrapped her arms protectively around her body, talking loudly over his apologies. "Let's just get to the song." She all but snapped, keeping a good metre between her and Puck at all times.
Puck nodded once in agreement, then again, firmer, to himself. His fingers ran over the strings of the guitar before starting the opening riff for Run to Paradise. Quinn didn't dance, instead hugging herself tight - the same way Matthew used to.
"You don't mind if I abuse myself, so I can hold my head up." Quinn's voice carried through the room as she sang, a power behind it that was never there before - Rachel had told her to throw her voice, and if doing so got her out of Glee sooner, Quinn would do it.
She sang the lyrics with such disinterest that she didn't notice Rachel's jaw tighten.
A couple times through the song Puck messed up the chords, and his voice was distracted. By the end of the song, Quinn had released her body, swaying slightly side to side, eyes trained on the floor. The rest of the club members applauded, and Mr Schue stood up, beaming. "That was great, guys." He said, patting Puck on the back but catching himself before he did the same to Quinn.
Quinn hurried back to her seat, Rachel getting up in her stead. "I told you that they were both perfect for the song." During Rachel's droning, Quinn was able to tune out.
–––
No one would love her like he did.
Miss Pillsbury had tried again and again to get her to talk to her about the problem, but Quinn avoided her. She didn't want to talk. She just wanted Matthew back. She'd hurt for what had happened, but she needed it - she needed to feel that loving sting again. The burn on her shoulder remained when the other bruises healed, an almost-perfect circle. It was small and easy to conceal, but when she was alone Quinn would run her hand over the injured skin.
She thought about hurting herself.
Who would notice? Quinn had hidden so much for so long that a few cuts would be nothing... but it wasn't the same.
It wasn't his hand hurting her. Quinn didn't even love herself like he did.
I'm sorry babe. I love you. xx
Quinn texted him, one hand holding her phone whilst the other covered up her cigarette burn. It was the one piece of him she really had left. All the presents meant nothing against this, and all the other bruises had yellowed and faded.
It was just this memory of them - the burning love they'd had, the smoke they'd shared between sealed lips.
Quinn cried all night, but he never replied.
–––
The next day at school they were meant to be putting finishing touches on their sectionals routine. She'd made a point of not touching anybody - no one would touch her again, they couldn't do it right - but now she had to dance with Puck. It was an upbeat routine, passionate and youthful. Quinn was expected to dance around and even up on Puck at some points. Earlier the man had had no issue with it - had made offhanded jokes about it all the time, in fact - but now he looked cautious.
Quinn had a headache, and she just wanted to go home. They'd had Cheerio's practice during lunch in preparation for the game they had that night. It was like all the clubs in school had decided they needed to practice on this one day. She was hungry and sad and lonely, damn it. Quinn wanted to go home and sleep, but that wasn't happening. There was still the game that night. She'd have enough time to go home and get changed before she had to get back to school and pretend that she cared about their useless football team.
This time Puck was not the only one playing instruments - they'd gotten the band into the auditorium. They'd even gotten costumes on, loose mock-ups of what they'd be wearing at the actual event.
All the others waited off to the side of the stage whilst Quinn and Puck started off the song.
She went through the motions. She danced as she should, singing loud enough to satisfy Mr Schue. As much as she didn't want to be there, Quinn knew what had to be done. She had to do everything right, and then she'd be able to leave. If she didn't put her whole into it, they'd be rehearsing all afternoon - or worse, she'd get those sympathetic looks and be sent home.
Quinn hated sympathy.
She already felt sorry enough about her miserable life, she didn't want anyone else showing her pity. Quinn was strong. She didn't need someone to pat her on the back and tell her everything would be okay - not unless it was Matthew.
At some point, Puck had given his guitar away and all the other Glee club members had come out and started dancing with them. Quinn hadn't noticed - she'd memorised the song and moves to the point where her mind didn't need to be there for her to react.
Unfortunately that lead her into a close dance with Puck. Quinn shuddered when his hand closed around her waist, light but still there. It was a simple few steps, and then Puck dipped her body low.
Quin snapped.
As soon as she was hanging back, entire weight resting in Puck's arms, she lurched forward. Her arms struggled to grab hold of the fabric of his shirt and pull herself upright. She grasped one fist in Puck's sleeve, yanking on it to steady herself. Instead of regaining her footing, the thin fabric tore and Quinn fell through Puck's arms and to the floor.
The music cut off with an odd screech.
"Fuck, Quinn." Puck said, a curse Mr Schue was apparently willing to overlook this once. "What happened?" He asked, pulling at the ruined garment hanging off his body.
Quinn had pushed herself up with her hands, climbing shakily to her knees, facing the ground. Her eyes were wide and wild, breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. The grazes on her hands had long since healed, but for a second it felt like she was still on the ground in the parking lot. The smooth wooden surface of the stage was coarse against her skin, and the hand on her shoulder felt like that foot, driving her down. Everyone was talking, shouting, yelling, and it was driving Quinn insane.
They were all talking about her whilst she was down.
"Shut up." Quinn shrieked to the ground, throwing one hand out to push away the ones crowding her body. "Just leave me alone!" She didn't bother with any of her things, leaving it all behind as she sprinted from the room. Her legs felt flimsy and weak but they carried her well down the long deserted halls of the school.
She came to a halt on the steps leading out of McKinley high. Quinn was fit, and the run wasn't what left her panting. It was the culmination of everything - they were all talking about her, they didn't care, they just wanted to keep her unhappy.
She just wanted Matthew back.
The parking lot was practically empty - she recognised some of the cars of the members of Glee and the teachers, but not the one she was looking for.
Quinn sunk down onto the steps, leaning her body against the brick banister. Her feet were flat on the step below her body, and Quinn buried her face into her knees. What was the point of a reputation any more? They'd clearly been waiting for this moment - waiting for Quinn Fabray to break so that they could crowd her body and talk and just watch her suffer.
Her shoulders shuddered, but Quinn was adamant not to shed any tears.
She wouldn't let them have that victory.
"Quinn?"
She didn't know how long she'd been on that step, lost in her thoughts - her fears and her hate. "Go away." Quinn said, voice muffled by her legs.
Something brushed against her side and Quinn shifted away, pressed hard up against the wall now. "I bought you your things. You left them behind in Glee." Rachel said, voice quiet and unassuming.
Quinn lifted her head to face Rachel, eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Thanks." She said, taking the heavy bag off of the smaller girl. All her Cheerio's stuff. She'd have to be down on the field in an hour or two to cheer, but Quinn didn't even want to move off the step at that moment.
Rachel said nothing, and so they both sat on the steps in silence.
–––
Quinn was intent on maintaining her image, and had gone to the next Glee session as if nothing was wrong. No one knew how to react, and Quinn was glad. If they were clueless, that meant she was in control. She'd taken the upper hand back again.
No one spoke to her all lesson. Rachel shifted her chair closer to Quinn's side, but she didn't press. Quinn liked that about Rachel. She could be a nosy bitch when she wanted to, but sometimes she got it through her head that Quinn didn't want to talk. It was at times like those that Quinn didn't hate Rachel. She liked Rachel. She didn't ask questions.
Halfway through Glee, Quinn's phone vibrated in her pocket.
I'll see you after school babe.
For the rest of the lesson, Quinn kept checking and rechecking the message - just to make sure it was from the right number, that the caller ID hadn't mixed it up.
Matthew had texted her.
Okay.
Quinn couldn't think of much more to say, but she was finally happy again.
–––
"Who was that?" Rachel asked conversationally once Glee was over. Quinn was trying to escape, and this had to be the time Rachel wanted a chat.
"Who's who?" Quinn asked, distracted, wringing the strap of her duffel between her hands. She couldn't help the smile on her lips, no longer a sadistic mockery of a happy gesture but something real.
Rachel frowned. "He texted you, didn't he?" Rachel said, not bothering to hide her disapproval.
"What's it to you?" Quinn bit back, head held high. She'd have her boyfriend back soon, she'd have his love printed all over her body, she'd feel wanted again - whole and complete.
Rachel sighed, and reached out one hand, brushing down the back of Quinn's upper arm. The blonde girl flinched, turning her sharp eyes on her. "Just... Quinn, you shouldn't be doing this." Rachel said, frown lines heavy on her forehead. "You're better than that."
"He loves me." Quinn answered, confidence coating every word.
"That's not love, Quinn." Rachel had dropped her head, looking up at Quinn through her bangs.
Stamping a foot on the ground, Quinn turned around fully to face Rachel. "What do you know about love?" She spat, grasping her bag tighter and storming off down the hall.
"You're better than that, Quinn." Rachel called at her retreating form. "You're beautiful. Don't let anyone take that from you."
Quinn wasn't listening.
–––
Quinn should've listened.
She remembered Rachel's address from that one time they had a party there. It was in the same neighbourhood as Matthew's rental. It was easily within walking distance.
"You ugly fucking bitch." Slap. "You think you can get me fucking arrested? Lock me up, and I'll fucking kill you. Just think about it." Kick, punch, spit.
Quinn didn't want to give him that victory. She didn't want to let him win. But she had. She'd sobbed on the floor, whimpering as he let out his anger on her body. All she'd wanted was for him to listen - she'd wanted to talk to him in his car, a haze of smoke between them, like old times. Instead he'd sped back to his house. Quinn had been fine with that, too - he deserved it. For what she'd put him through, she deserved it.
But the whole time, the only thing Quinn could think of was Rachel.
"You're beautiful. Don't let anyone take that from you."
She pulled her Cheerio's jacket around tighter around her shaking body as she cut through an alley.
Rachel's place, she reasoned, was closer. Quinn could go there and be safe. Santana lived on the other side of town, and Quinn didn't feel right bothering Brittany's family. The blonde was rarely there any more anyway. Rachel was close, and Rachel could help. Rachel wouldn't tell anyone.
"You're disgusting, no wonder the others all left your ass."
"I'm not." Quinn has answered, feeble, eyes scrunched shut. "I'm not disgusting."
"Don't talk back, you bitch."
"I'm beautiful." Quinn yelled, pressing her hands over her eyes as he lay into her again.
If anyone found her like this, Quinn knew that they'd call the police or something. She looked like a wreck. Luckily, the path to Rachel's house was not entirely lit up. Quinn darted between shadows, hood pulled down over her lowered head.
She stood in the street, eyeing up the house. This was it. Definitely. All she needed now was the confidence to knock.
The first time she raised her fist to the door, it was unheard. Her hands shook, and the knock was faint. She knocked again, harder, the sound resonating off the hard wood. There was no response for a while, and Quinn had her fist up to knock again when the door pulled open.
Rachel stood in the doorway, back-lit by the lights in her hall. Quinn heard her gasp. "Oh my God, Quinn." And then she was pulled into a tight hug. Quinn flinched, but didn't pull away.
She didn't respond physically, either. "Earlier today." Her voice broke, and she swallowed, blood and saliva dense in her mouth. "You... you said I was beautiful." Quinn managed to squeeze out, allowing her body to be pulled into the warm house.
"You are beautiful, Quinn." Rachel said, pulling out of the hug to hold Quinn at arms length. "You're the prettiest girl in this town."
Quinn hadn't noticed she was crying until Rachel lay one hand on her cheek, brushing away at the tears with her thumb. A purpling hand-shaped bruise outlined Rachel's smaller hand where it sat. "We have to get you cleaned up, though."
Numb, Quinn nodded, and let Rachel take her hand.
–––
author's notes: so this has become a massive beast, and will now be three parts. thanks for the support, and keep the reviews coming! :)