A/N: Eh, I had planned on continuing it anyway.
x
There's no glee today, Quinn knows that, but she haphazardly rolls herself to the choir room anyway. In the trophy case, almost taunting her, is their Regionals trophy. Glittering in all it's glory.
That could have been the happiest moment of her life. Feeling triumph, winning something for once. Even if all she did was sway in the background, it was worth it to see Rachel's face when they were announced winners.
It was worth that feeling in her gut that screamed accomplishment. Something she was finally able to call hers and that she actually wanted to claim.
"No glee tonight; you know that,"
"Yeah, no, I know, it's just," she lets out a frustrated sigh, running an angry hand through her hair then twisting them together in her lap before she clutches at the wheel of her chair tightly. "I don't know."
There's a long silence before she sighs, "This...sucks," and she's not talking about Regionals anymore.
Artie wheels up next to her, placing a hand over the one gripping her wheel. "It's...it'll be okay, eventually. At least you're not stuck like this forever," he offers her a sideways smile.
She scoffs, pulling her hand from him. "It's the fact that I'm stuck like this at all,"
"Look, I get it - "
"Please,"
"I'm in a wheelchair too, Quinn. At least you get the advantage of wondering when you're going to get out - "
"I was actually on my way to getting somewhere in life," she says with a sad laugh. "And I know what I'm missing. You've been fucked from the start." It's out of her mouth before she can clamp down on it and she immediately hangs her head slightly in shame.
Artie goes rigid in his chair, and she can tell how hard he's squeezing his hands together by the squeaking of his gloves. She turns to apologize but he speaks before she can. "I got it. You're upset. Understandably so, but don't take it out on people who are trying to help you. Or there won't be any left."
x
She's tired of the word sorry. She became tired of saying it a long time ago. She's become tired of hearing it just recently. She tired of the pitying looks, tired of people offering to carry her books for her, tired of people holding open doors. She's tired of people treating her like she's a fucking cripple, and yeah, she can't 'walk' down the halls, technically, but she's still as capable as any 17 year old high schooler.
So when Mike goes to grab her books off her desk, she quickly snatches them away and pulls them to her chest.
"Sorry?" He says, and she grits her teeth. "I didn't mean - I was going to...help, you know,"
She forces herself to swallow the snark that's on the tip of her tongue and instead just gives him a small smile. "Thank you, Mike. But I'm fine."
She rolls out into the hallway and towards her locker, opening it once she gets there and stuffing her books inside. A small clearing of someone's throat makes her head shoot up to look at Rachel, who's standing with her hands clasped in front of her.
"Hi," she says.
"Hello, Quinn," Rachel chews her bottom lips and watches Quinn exchange her English books for science ones. "How are you feeling,"
"Fine," She snaps out a little too quickly. "I - sorry. I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Rachel presses. "Your head isn't hurting, your ribs - ?"
"Rachel," Quinn says, sitting up in her chair, setting her books on her lap and closing her locker. "I'm okay. Really."
For some reason, she doesn't mind when Rachel prods her about her feelings. She doesn't feel completely smothered like she does when other people do it. She knows people 'care' - they wouldn't be doing everything they had been doing otherwise - but Rachel shows she cares in a way that 'isn't' completely obnoxious.
It's ironic, for sure, but comforting at the same time.
x
Rachel tries not to blame Finn.
She honestly does, but she can't help but think what might have happened if Finn would have just forgot about their damned slot for one fucking second and stopped being stubborn and just let her wait for Quinn.
It's the selfish part of her that wonders that, she knows it is. It's the selfish part of her that blames her dim-witted - boyfriend? Fiance? - because she knows, deep down she knows, it was her fault.
She could have been patient and not blown up Quinn's phone with a new text message every minute. But she wasn't. And now Quinn was rolling around McKinley in a goddamn wheelchair looking more broken than she did when she had the pink hair and the nose ring.
But it's better to be selfish than to suffocate herself in a mountain of guilt.
...right?
x
"About the wedding..." Rachel stands in front of Finn as he sits on her bed, twisting the engagement ring around on her finger. "With - with everything that has transpired lately I...I'm not sure it's such a good idea anymore,"
Finn looks like someone just kicked his puppy. "But - what happened to life's too short? Rachel, the longer we wait - "
"We rushed into this," Rachel says quickly, quelling his argument. "We're not – I'm not ready for this kind of commitment. I never was, I-" She glances down at the ring on her finger. "I have no idea what I was thinking."
"Rach, I 'love' you - "
"And I love you, Finn, but...this," she gestures between them. "It isn't working for me right now."
"Are you...breaking up with me?" Finn's brow furrows.
The metal slips from around her finger and she closes it in her fist before she reaches out and puts it in his.
He looks like someone kicked, shot, and killed his puppy as he slumps his giant shoulders, pushes off the bed and leaves without a sound.
x
Life's too short. That's one thing she's learned, if anything, from these past few weeks. Because even if she hasn't exactly shown it with the way she's been behaving, she understands it enough to know that she needs to suck up her pride and apologize to one of her closest friends.
She finds Artie at lunch, sitting at a table with the rest of the Glee club.
She gets a chorus of 'Hey's from everyone who notices her approaching and she gives a small smile in return. "Artie? Can we, um, can we talk?"
He just stares at her a moment, then nods, waiting for her to continue.
"I was...I thought maybe we could go somewhere a little more - "
"If you have something to say," he interrupts. "You can say it in front of everyone."
She clears her throat. "Right. I just wanted to apologize for...the other day. You were - you were only trying to help and I - I shouldn't have said the things I did. It was uncalled for," he makes a grunt of agreement. "I'm just - I'm really sorry. To the rest of you, too. I know I haven't been the most pleasant of company lately but...I'm working on it."
She sucks in a breath, then lets it out in a relieved sigh when Artie smiles at her. "It's all good, Quinn,"
"Thanks,"
"You can make up for it even more by letting me whoop your ass in a wheelchair race after school." he grins.
She grins back. "I'll be there,"
x
"Helmets? Really,"
"Wheelchair racing is an extremely dangerous sport, Quinn," He raps his knuckles on his helmet. "You can never be too safe."
"Right," She chuckles, pulling the light blue helmet onto her head and fastening the strap.
"You're so going down, Fabray," Artie readies himself, leaning slightly forward, his hands poised over his wheels.
"You wish, Abrams,"
He chuckles and shakes his head. "One,"
"Two,"
"'Three!'" they both shout, propelling themselves forward, forearms burning in seconds as they zoom down the empty hall.
x
"Okay, okay, Jesus, Artie. You won," He grins and pumps his fists in the air in triumph and Quinn pants a few yards behind him, shaking arms reaching up to take off her helmet and letting loose a flurry of sweaty, choppy, helmet hair.
"You good?" He asks, a smirk sliding across his face."
"Just...just give me a minute," Quinn drops her head gear to the floor with a small clatter and leans back in her chair. "How do you...everyday..."
He wheels over to her, pulling of his helmet with less shaky - but shaky nonetheless - arms and pats her on the shoulder. "You get used to it."
The hallway is quiet, except for the sound of Quinn's labored breathing, and when she calms down enough to speak she says, "Thank you, really. You didn't have to...do anything after what I said and I just - thank you."
He waves a gloved hand in dismissal. "It's all good, Q," he raises a fist for her to bump and she does, laughing.
"Quinn? What are you doing here?" They both spin around.
"I get that I'm sitting down all the time, and it might be a little hard to see me, but come on, Rachel,"
"Forgive me, Artie. Hello to you, too," Rachel nods at him with a slight smile before she turns back to the blonde. "You two do realize school ended approximately..." she glances down at her wrist. "...twelve and a half minutes ago?"
"Yeah," Quinn and Artie glance at each other. "He was just giving me some...pointers."
"Pointers that require helmets?" Rachel points to the discarded item by the wheel of Quinn's chair.
"Handling a wheelchair can be an extremely dangerous activity, Rachel." Artie supplies.
"Well, I for one don't think Quinn should be participating in anything even remotely dangerous with all she has been through recently."
Quinn gives Artie a death glare that screams 'Oh, now look what you've done.' He clears his throat. "I'm gonna roll away..."
She feels Rachel's eyes on her, probably searching for any nick or scratch she could zero in on, and while Quinn found it slightly heart-warming, the more annoyed part couldn't help but roll her eyes and sigh, "I'm fine, Rachel." Rachel hums in response.
Quinn is struck with a thought. "Why are you here, then?"
"I always practice after school, even on the days we have no Glee. A rising starlet like myself must keep her voice in check at all times."
Quinn lets out a soft, amused snort.
"My future is no laughing matter,"
"No, but what you were about to do to it was,"
What was with her and her sudden inability to keep her mouth shut?
"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."
Rachel actually lets out a soft laugh and worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "Not really. It's the truth, after all,"
Quinn can't help but let her eyes wander to Rachel's bare ring finger. "What happened?"
"I realized what a huge mistake I was making," Rachel shakes her head. "And it took you getting in that mess of an accident for me to open my eyes."
"Everything happens for a reason," Quinn shrugs. "Quit beating yourself up over it; it wasn't your fault."
Rachel nods, dropping her head to stare at her flats.
"Do you remember - after Regionals, you - you had asked me if I was...singing to Finn, and Finn only,"
Most things before her accident are blurry around the edges, but for some reason the moment Rachel is speaking of sticks out with surprising clarity. "Oh. Yeah."
"I don't - I never quite got what you meant. When you said that, I mean."
She doesn't know what she meant when she said it either. She was high off the Regionals win and being back on the Cheerios (she had to have been high if she decided that she suddenly wanted to support Finn and Rachel's marriage); it all just kind of came out.
"I still don't get quite what I meant either. Maybe I was just looking for some kind of...hope to cling to that would give me a reason to still be against the wedding, but...now that I'm actually thinking about it, that's...really not the case at all."
"Can I - I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, Quinn, but - a part of the reason I called off the wedding was because of you. That should have been the first sign it wasn't going to work out; I could barely even walk down the aisle without you there," Rachel chuckled bitterly, recalling the way she had crumpled into a heap at the altar. "I was a sobbing mess. You'd think it was you I was about to marry."
The last sentence strikes a strange chord inside Quinn and again she's left wondering what she actually meant when she sought out Rachel that day after Regionals.
You'd think it was you I was about to marry.
It's like the last piece of the puzzle that she's been searching for, and it was hidden under the lid of the box the whole time. She makes a strangled sound in the back of her throat and Rachel is in front of her in an instant, worried brown eyes boring into her hazel ones.
"Quinn?"
One of Rachel's hands slip into hers and it's like the icing on the cake because a spark just 'shoots' up her arm and to her head and a light bulb switches on.
You were singing to Finn, and only to Finn...right?
You'd think it was you I was about to marry.
"Jesus," Quinn finally breathes.
"Quinn?"
And, much like the words that seem to tumble out of her mouth on their own accord, her hand closes around Rachel's, keeping her rooted to the spot so she can reach out and grab the front of Rachel's owl sweater and pull their lips together.
It's lightning and tornadoes and hurricanes and tsunamis crashing over Quinn's senses, and when she feels the tentative force of lips pushing back against hers it's heaven and shooting stars and volcanic eruptions. She swears the whole world stands still because everything is just clicking right into place and wow, this is what a kiss is supposed to feel like.
It's over too soon, way too soon, but she allows the softness of lips against hers to pull away and her eyes flutter open to rest on the pink face of Rachel Berry.
"Quinn, what - "
"Me. When I asked you after Regionals. I wanted you to say me. But I - you didn't, and I figured if I couldn't have you I could at least be there to support your wedding, and – wow." Quinn sighs. "I just - I'm sorry if I - "
Soft lips crush hers again, but they pull back a second later with a whisper of, "Don't apologize for that. Ever."
"Okay. Okay," She tugs on the sweater again and this time, small hands come to tangle in her sweaty, messy hair, but Rachel doesn't seem to care. She tugs lightly on the blonde locks, pulling Quinn's mouth harder against hers.
"Ahem,"
Rachel jumps almost five feet into the air and spins around with a terrified squeak. A towering janitor stares at them with a gray eyebrow raised, mop in hand.
"Excuse us, Joseph - " Quinn's not even going to ask how Rachel knows his name. " - we were just - "
"Oh, I know what y'all were doin'. I've been workin' at this school for 25 years; I've seen all kinds of kids in various stages of hooliganin'," He chuckles to himself. "Never seen any of 'em that have the audacity to do it 'n the middle of a hallway. Now I can officially say "I've seen it all,"" he flings mop water at them. "Run along."
The mortified face that Rachel sees when she turns around makes her snort. Quinn's cheeks pinken and she mumbles something.
"Sorry?"
Quinn clears her throat. "I said, um, can I give you a ride to the parking lot?"
Rachel smiles, climbing sideways onto Quinn's lap and slinging both arms around her neck. "I'd like that."
x
A/N: And, ah, here we are. It got kind of majorly fluffy at the end. Read and review?