AN: Shout out to my amazing beta for all of her hard work. Sarah, you rock! Also a reminder that this chapter is in the PAST. Once more... this is a flashback chapter.
Rachel groaned as she eased awake, languidly stretching out stiff muscles and humming contentedly after holding her stretch until she finally let her body relax back into the warm mattress. It was a good ache, the kind that brought a smile to her face along with memories from the night before. She'd become well acquainted with "sex sore", and really wasn't too upset about that; there were certainly worse ways to wake up.
As she lazily slid her hand across the sheets searching for Quinn, she considered the thought that they could perhaps continue from where they'd left off (see 'passed out') in the wee hours of the morning. When her fingertips found nothing - just a cool spot - rather than the warm skin she'd expected to bump into, she blinked her eyes open, turning her head to find that Quinn really was absent and not just teetering beyond her reach at the edge of the mattress. Waking up further, she began to take notice of more than just the empty spot where Quinn should be, pouting when she heard the faint hiss of the shower running in the background. Rolling over, she stole Quinn's pillow, cuddling up to the Quinn-smelling substitute and snuggling further under the covers; as tempting as it was to join Quinn in the shower, right now she was warm and comfy. Besides, enticing Quinn back into bed - and staying there for the duration of their shared day off - pretty much started and ended the list of her priorities. Confident Quinn would see things her way once she got out of the shower, Rachel nuzzled into her pillow and fell back to sleep.
Or at least tried to.
What seemed like only moments later, the blaring of Quinn's phone pierced her peaceful haven, and she let out a groan at the disruption. Cracking one eye open to squint at the nightstand, she realized it was her girlfriend's personal cell, and weighed the idea of answering it, if only to shut it up. When the ringing abruptly stopped, however, she found herself more than happy to flop back to the sheets and let her now-awake mind wander.
When they'd first started dating, it had taken her awhile to adjust to sharing her bed with someone again. Having been on her own for awhile before Quinn had come back into her life, her sleep habits had changed. She'd grown accustomed to being alone, able to sprawl out and take up as much space as she wanted, to toss and turn without fear of disturbing anyone. Certainly she hadn't had to worry about phones going off regularly at godforsaken hours of the night or someone easing into bed in the wee hours of the morning.
Then along came Quinn.
Rachel felt Quinn had really gotten the worse end of the deal; she knew she was an "active sleeper". But they managed to adjust to one another's presence, and Quinn no longer jolted upright because of something Rachel had said or done in her sleep. Likewise, Rachel had adapted quite well to the challenges of sleeping next to someone who stole blankets and gave off more heat than a bonfire, and was regularly called to work at odd hours.
"On Call" had become a hated phrase to Rachel. She loathed it. It meant that at any point in the night Quinn's phone could go off and wake them both up - leaving Rachel alone in the bed without her blonde bonfire. She did try to compensate with cuddling the stuffed penguin Quinn had brought her after that last extended trip to San Diego for some conference, but, Mr. Waddles was not a very good substitute.
It made Rachel absolutely crazy. Not because her sleep was getting interrupted and she'd end up abusing caffeine more than usual the next day. No, it was the fact that if Quinn left she found it nearly impossible to fall back into a good sleep. The bed was entirely too cold after Quinn left, that even though Rachel complained about the heat it was so noticeably gone with Quinn that it wrecked her ability to return to slumber land. Quinn felt so guilty about the whole thing, so Rachel feigned sleep to soothe her guilt. There was a bonus to that - not only did Quinn feel better thinking that Rachel was getting her much needed sleepy time, but Rachel also got to listen in on all sorts of interesting conversations. She realized that it was rude to eavesdrop, and knew that Quinn would be less than thrilled if she ever found out, but Rachel was curious by nature and really it was nice to have some sort of idea about where Quinn was running off to. Especially when Quinn should have been getting her own needed sleep (three hours was not enough), curled around Rachel, sleeping soundly and dreaming about whatever it was Quinn dreamt about.
Unfortunately, she was beginning to suspect that it wasn't always just work getting Quinn up from bed and out of the apartment at strange hours. For the last week or so Quinn had been receiving calls - strange, non-work related calls - and Rachel was starting to feel, well, slightly insecure about it. She knew for a fact that Quinn hadn't been on call when she woke up a little after 2am on the weekend to respond to a call on her personal phone. Initially she'd dismissed it; it was possible that Judy or Cam might have called due to an emergency, but, then again, Quinn would tell her that... right?
But then it kept happening, and Quinn had started to act strangely. Sneaking out, not saying a word about it to Rachel, in fact full on lying when Rachel asked where she'd disappeared off to. Rachel had toyed with the idea of breaking her cover and admitting that she'd not been sleeping when Quinn answered the phone, but she figured the repercussions wouldn't be worth the brief satisfaction of telling Quinn to ignore the call. Plus, she was attached to the shallow comfort she got out of knowing where Quinn was going, that way she knew if she should be worried or not.
Not that she wasn't almost always worrying about Quinn. Her job was dangerous - a discussion point that they'd covered several times over. Rachel just believed that it was better for her sanity if she knew whether Quinn had been called to her job, or if she was simply meeting a friend.
With these mysterious phone calls continuing, Rachel started to worry about new things. Wondering if it could be something… bad. If maybe Quinn had gotten caught up in something - her imagination was as active as always and she could see all sorts of crazy scenarios playing out. It didn't even cross her mind at first that Quinn might be sneaking out to see someone else. At least not in a romantic sense. No, that thought hadn't come until later, until after she realized she wasn't sure how many calls and trips there had been.
Then she started wondering.
Eventually she'd caught enough information to know that the caller was a woman. A woman Quinn appeared to know very well, even though she'd never mentioned a "Millie" before.
As the annoying whine of Quinn's phone broke into her musings once again, Rachel decided she just couldn't take it anymore.
That voice, that terribly insidious nudge of insecurity at the back of her mind, had risen once again to whisper things to her. Rachel knew that Quinn wouldn't cheat on her, she did, she did, she did… but the longer the calls went on and with how oddly Quinn was sometimes acting, it wasn't helping.
With all those doubts about herself and her ability to attract and maintain a relationship resurfacing… surely it wouldn't hurt to answer the call, right? Just to know?
Chewing on her bottom lip, she reluctantly crawled out of bed, and stood naked in Quinn's bedroom staring at the still ringing phone, a war going on inside her head.
"Quinn could have anyone, and you think she'd pick you?"
Doubt whispered, and Rachel caved, lunging for the phone.
"Hello?" she answered, a little out of breath just from the anticipation alone.
"Uh, hi? Is Quinn there?" a woman's voice - Millie, she assumed - asked.
"She's in the shower," Rachel said, more smug than she should have been. "May I ask who's calling? I'll let her know."
"That's okay, I'll just call back. Are you… are you her girlfriend?"
"I am - and I know who you are, Millie," Rachel snapped, possessiveness mixing potently with anxiety. She'd be damned if she let this little hussy know she was nervous about her. There'd be time to cry and fret and over think the whole thing later. For now she just wanted to try and put this other woman in her place.
"Right. Didn't know she had a girlfriend. But, yeah, I'll just call back."
The line went dead.
Rachel set the phone down carefully, fighting back tears as her mind took hold of the new information and painted an ugly scene for her.
"Rachel?" Quinn called from the bathroom. "Rach, are you awake?"
Clearing her throat, Rachel shook her head, set her shoulders, and turned her eyes up to the ceiling, banishing her tears back where they came from. If only that worked. "Yes, I'm awake. I'm sorry but I need to - I have to go. I'll call you later."
"You what? Rachel?"
By the time Quinn exited the bathroom wearing a towel and a confused expression, Rachel was already gone. A note on the nightstand caught her eye and she plucked it up apprehensively, only to have her heart drop into her stomach as she read the messy scrawl.
Quinn, Millie called.
By the time Rachel got home, she wasn't sure what to do. She was just so angry. Eventually she ended upspending the day in her apartment, passing the time by attempting to get her emotions out through songwriting, tears, the music of her "good cry" play list, and fitful sleep. She'd taken Mr. Waddles with her, just not able to bear leaving him behind. Not if he was going to be the only thing she had left of Quinn. He was still a poor substitute, but she managed to take some comfort in sobbing into his soft, fuzzy fur and squishing him to her chest. It alleviated some of the ache, even as the memory of how she got him made her cry harder.
She wasted the day away thinking, pacing, and trying to rationalize and calm her thoughts. Part of her knew she wasn't thinking clearly, that she was being insane, absolutely crazy, but the other part couldn't let go - not once the "what if's" got planted in her head. It wasn't the first time whispers of supposed infidelity had caressed her mind, but this time seemed so much more plausible than the others. Jealousy hadn't caused these thoughts; no one had given her these ideas to upset her and try and usurp her when she became emotionally unstable.
This time the evidence was all in her hands.
Evening came and with it the anger returned, flaring hot and sudden. It was so fierce that it shook her hands, dried her tears, and gave her purpose.
Rachel Berry was a lot of things, but she wasn't a coward.
Stomach in knots, hands in fists, Rachel made up her mind, and quickly found herself knocking on Quinn's door, even though she still had a key. Still, but maybe not for much longer.
Quinn's eyes were puffy and bloodshot when she opened the door and Rachel immediately felt conflicted, just for a second. The voice of Reason on her shoulder opposite of Doubt was pleading with her to stop and think, to look at Quinn and see past the fog of fear. She shook it off, insecurity pulling more strongly. There would probably always be a part of her that wanted to take Quinn into her arms and shield her from the world, to hold her and love her and make it all better. Some things hadn't changed over the years - they probably never would - but just because she felt that way still didn't mean Quinn was innocent.
"Who is she?" Rachel demanded, crossing her arms firmly to keep from reaching out.
"Rachel," Quinn said softly, and opened the door wider. It was simple and sad, and it tugged at Rachel's heart.
"Who is Millie, Quinn?" Rachel asked again, stomping into Quinn's living room and spinning on her heel to level Quinn with the harshest glare possible with tears already burning her eyes. "Just tell me."
"Rachel, I can't talk about this right now, okay? I really… I just can't." Quinn slumped under some invisible pressure, proud shoulders caving as she scrubbed at her own teary eyes.
"You can't?" Rachel repeated and punctuated it with a snort. "If I had a dollar for every time I heard that. You can't what, Quinn? Admit that you're cheating on me?" That word. That vile, disgusting word. Rachel almost choked over it.
"You…" Quinn's mouth fell open, hands falling away from her face. "You think I'm cheating on you? Because of…"
"God, I thought you'd at least be grown up enough to admit it," Rachel interrupted with a sneer, so caught up in her own hurt that she missed the honest shock that passed across Quinn's face. "I can't believe I thought that you changed. But when have I ever learned with you?"
"Wait. Really?" Quinn said lowly, voice wobbling. "You're going to - because of high school? Is that what you're bringing up, what you're implying? Really, Rachel, is that what you think of me? That I've never grown, never changed from the girl I was?"
"It doesn't matter," Rachel hissed, dismissing the destroyed way Quinn was looking at her. "It doesn't matter what I thought of you. I trusted you now, I loved you. How can you do this to me? I don't know how you can even look at me right now. Or is that the pay off, Quinn - getting to see Rachel 'Man Hands' Berry humiliated and heartbroken one more time, just for shits and giggles. You won't even admit it. I mean, maybe I'm wrong," Rachel swallowed hard, that voice on her shoulder begging louder now for her to listen. She couldn't be wrong, she wasn't. "If I'm wrong then just tell me who she is. Explain yourself for once in this relationship."
Quinn was staring at her, tears streaking her face and arms shaking at her sides, with such unbelievable pain on her face that it nearly stole Rachel's breath away. In hindisght, she was really wishing she'd chosen a different tactic for this confrontation. Quinn didn't look guilty.
She looked devastated.
"Loved?" Quinn finally croaked, those trembling arms snaking around her own body to try and hold herself together.
"Quinn," Rachel whispered, the enormity of what she'd just pushed them both into crashing down on her. Doubt left her to clean up her mess and rationality couldn't help her now. "I… I didn't…"
"Just go, Rachel," Quinn said stiffly, changing before Rachel's eyes. She was still obviously devastated, but walls went up, her eyes dried, her chin lifted, and just like that Rachel was being locked out.
"Go. Get out, leave, and don't look back. I have too much going on right now to try and untangle this. Clearly you've already made up your mind. So get out."
"Quinn," Rachel tried again, scrambling to find words, any possible way to back up and try again. But whatever she might have come up with wouldn't have mattered, because Quinn was already turning and heading back towards her room.
She didn't turn back.
The bedroom door closed with a firm sound and the click of the lock finalized it.
Rachel was left standing in Quinn's living room, looking around and seeing signs of herself, a picture here, a memory there. All of her anger had faded, leaving her desolate and vulnerable to the sting of guilt and the heaviness of the abuse she'd just put them both through.
She barely made it out of the apartment her eyes were so blurry. The entirety of the trip back to her own apartment was a blur, filled with a single repeated thought.
What had she done?
"What did you do?" Ryan asked brusquely, three days later, as he shouldered his way into Rachel's apartment with no other words of greeting. Not that you could really call his question any sort of greeting at all.
Normally Rachel would have been annoyed at his lack of manners, but considering the reason for his visit she figured she'd more than earned a little rudeness. Closing the door back behind him she dropped her forehead against the solid wood, grateful for the temporary leaning post.
"I messed up," she admitted hoarsely, slowly rotating around until her back was pressed into the door, unwilling to completely give up its support just yet. "Ryan, I messed up so badly."
"No, you think?" Ryan snipped, arms firmly crossed over his chest as he observed her. "Jesus. You both look like shit that got stuck to the bottom of a shoe and then scraped off with a credit card."
She wanted to smile at his colorful description - so classically Ryan - but fresh tears welled instead, trailing down the well-worn path left on her face by the seemingly endless stream she'd been dealing with ever since she fled Quinn's apartment. "Is - is she...?"
"She's not good if that's what you're about to ask," he grumbled, shaking his head. "You and me are going to figure this out, little girl, right now. Because I either need to kill you for what you did or I need to fix it. So, I repeat, 'What. Did. You. Do?'"
"I lost her," Rachel whispered, promptly losing what small bit of resolve she'd been holding onto.
Dumbfounded, sleep deprived, annoyed, and worried, Ryan reached out and crushed her into his chest, easily overpowering her flailing protestations. "Okay, alright. I'm really not good at this girly, feelings stuff but I can't take this. Come on, shhh, you didn't lose anything."
"She was getting these phone calls from this woman and she lied when I asked and I thought she'd found someone better and I don't deserve her!"
Ryan blinked an extra couple of times, trying to process that rapid fire, tear garbled sentence. He was used to being confused by the fairer sex, but sometimes it was like they were speaking a foreign language and he didn't even have Google Translate on his side. Still, he got the gist of what she was still somewhat hysterically blubbering into his shoulder - enough to know that this was going to be more of a patch job. That was a relief, because he liked Rachel and he had been afraid he'd have to do his big brother duty and tell her to stay the hell away from Quinn forever and some other aggressively big brotherly stuff. Helping them repair whatever hole they'd put in their love boat would be much easier. Flexing his arms around her in warning Ryan easily picked Rachel up, halfway dragging her into the living room to deposit her weepy, snotty mess onto the couch.
"If you ever tell me that you don't deserve Quinn again I'm going to Ghost of Christmas Past you so hard you'll be stunned stupid for weeks, got me?" he snapped, using his "Marine" voice to get her attention. It worked like it always did, just like a freakin' charm. She immediately sucked in a sharp breath at his tone, bit into her bottom lip to stifle her cries, and stared up at him with wide, teary, trusting eyes. "Good. Now can we try this whole conversation thing again? In English instead of whatever garbled mess that was before? Also, you really need a tissue; I can't focus with the snot bubble peeking at me from your left nostril."
Rachel squeaked in mortification and quickly reached to cover her nose, only to realize he was teasing her as he broke into a grin and a warm chuckle at her expense.
"That's not funny," she sniffled, dropping her hand back into her lap to tangle with the other.
"It's a little funny," he disagreed, plopping down onto the couch next to her. "Now. What the hell happened?"
"Quinn was getting phone calls from another woman on her personal line. Someone named "Millie"," Rachel explained slowly, trying to keep from hiccupping in the middle of a word. "I started, um, I started to think that maybe she was cheating and then I couldn't get it out of my head. I - then it was - I never feel like I'm enough, Ryan. Like I've earned things. I'm always trying to be deserving and it's never ending. I let my insecurities get the best of me and I…" Rachel paused, screwing her eyes tightly shut but unable to escape the image of Quinn's face, the way she'd looked at her the last time they saw each other. "I accused her of cheating. She said she doesn't have time to deal with this right now." Embarrassed, Rachel ducked her head, avoiding looking him in the eye. "I pushed and pushed her and sabotaged myself like I always do, and now…"
She trailed off and left it there, wallowing in her guilt and despair. Rubbing her chilly hands up her arms to try and work some semblance of warmth back into her body, she realized she missed her blonde bonfire. Not that she'd ever get to feel that warmth again...
"Tadpole," Ryan said, hesitating only for a second before he draped a long arm over her shoulders. She leaned willingly into him, shuddering like a frightened dog as he kissed the top of her head. "We all get insecure. Everyone's got insecurities, and they always seem to pop up when things are going really well. What I don't understand is how you could believe them; you really thought Quinn would cheat on you? That's… never, Rachel. She would never do that to you."
Rachel took a steadying breath and reached for words to explain it. "It's one of those horrible ideas that gets trapped in your mind. Like a song that you hate that comes on the radio and no matter how much you hate it you can't stop from humming it later." She tilted her head up, bending back far enough to bravely look at him again. "What did I do, Ryan? What did I do?"
"It doesn't matter - it's done. What does matter is that you're going to undo it and I'm going to help," he stated calmly. "Millie, by the way, is from DC; she's from Quinn's old unit."
Rachel stared at him, his features going blurry through her tears as she felt even worse than before. You're so stupid. Her insecurities had always weighed her down, always blinded her to the reality of situations, and she wondered when that would ever stop.
"You know her?" She swiped wildly at her eyes, not bothering to try and hide her attempts to wipe away her tears, eternally grateful when Ryan just squeezed her closer and held out a Kleenex.
"Not really. It's more that I know of her. She was sort of Quinn's apprentice, I guess you could call her. I know she's in town right now, but I don't know why. Q wouldn't talk about it, which tells me that it's nothing good."
Groaning piteously, Rachel dropped her face into her palms. "I made such a mess. She's never going to forgive me for what I said."
"Quinn loves you, you idiot," Ryan huffed, wanting to slap both of them for over complicating something so simple. If they'd just learn to talk to one another he wouldn't have to be risking life and limb to mediate. "This is repairable, Tadpole. Though I do still want to kick your ass for leaving the apartment. Why did you run? You didn't stay and work it out. It sounds like you didn't even try."
"She told me to go and I didn't know what else to do - I think I was in shock," Rachel whimpered. "I knew it was wrong the second the door closed. The look on her face… I hurt her, Ryan. God, I really hurt her."
"You two are too stubborn for your own good," Ryan grumbled, scratching at his chin and wincing. "She's not entirely without fault, you know. One of these days she'll actually learn how to talk to people instead of stonewalling all the time."
Rachel didn't comment on that, knowing that it would probably take a long time before Quinn ever gave up that defense mechanism. "How - how are we… you said I can fix it and it sounds like you might have an idea how?" she asked hopefully, relaxing deeper into his warm side.
"I have an idea, yeah, but you're going to owe me because she's going to be pissed," he told her sternly.
"Ryan, if you help me get her back I'm going to owe you until the day I die," Rachel said, grabbing for one of his hands and squeezing it. "Please, please help me get her back."
Ryan sighed again, squeezing her hand in return. "You get me a date with Allison and we'll call it even. Deal?"
"Deal," Rachel eagerly agreed.
Setting her jaw firmly and holding tightly to Ryan's hand, Rachel listened with rapt attention as he began to detail his plan to her.
It had to work. It was going to work.
There just wasn't another option.
TBC...