Quinn stared at the blank wall with a deep sense of emptiness as she lay in the hospital bed. She felt oddly restless, and even though she blamed it on a lack of sleep she wasn't tired – not physically at least. She didn't understand the emotions that washed over her at all. Had they been there all the time? Or perhaps they were something new and foreign. Whatever they were, Quinn wanted them to leave. Just like she wanted to leave and get back to the house. She mulled over what lies Paul had made to the fellow's at work, she worried about the children and whether Grace the babysitter was doing a good job, and somehow amidst all of the to-do lists and fears she forgot to worry about herself. The door shifted open and the young blond pulled herself up on the bed as best as she could considering her hands were mittens of bandage.
"You're not Dr Brown..." Quinn noted suspiciously, her eyebrows taking in the man she didn't recognize by the door frame. He was younger than her doctor, with broad shoulders and a tall built. There was something friendly about his smile and something innocent in his eyes, it hit Quinn that he just seemed too young to be a doctor.
"My names Dr Stevens, but please, you can call me James" his accent indicated he was definitely not from around Manhattan, though Quinn couldn't put her finger on it. Flipping through some paperwork in his hands he looked over at her with an edge of compassion, causing Quinn to feel more self conscious than ever before.
"Nice to meet you Dr Stevens" she muttered. "Now I was wondering, when can I be discharged?" Quinn added with greater urgency.
"Discharged?" The doctor repeated.
"Well yes. I'm perfectly fine, you see. I'll have to leave the washing to the maids for a couple of days and I'll have to get a town car instead of drive but I just don't see any other problem here..." she explain rationally, attempting to sit upright to look more healthy. Quinn didn't feel remotely healthy, she felt trampled and broken. But those were two emotions that she just didn't have the time for.
"Mrs Draper, your accident is of great concern to me-"
"Yes exactly, it was an accident. So what with the new health scheme now I'll be in every time I stub a toe or break a nail?" She tried to laugh but her throat was too dry, the doctor remained silently concerned. "Please Dr Stevens, Dr Brown's released me in worse states"
"So this has happened before?"
"What do you mean this?" Quinn demanded with frustration, her heart rate increasing in agitation as she struggled to get herself off the bed. She hated feeling so helpless. To her disappointment the doctor was by her side and stopping her in a manner of respect.
"Mrs Draper, have you hurt yourself before-" but before he could say another word Quinn pushed the large man off her and turned to her bag of belongings that lay seated in one corner of the room, pretending she was much more capable at opening it than she actually was.
"I'm not saying another word to you, do you understand? I'm only going to talk to Dr Brown – and if my husband put you up to this I'll be damned if this is the last you hear about it. I'm completely fine" she argued intently, and to her luck the doctor seemed to leave the room – though she was sure that wasn't the last she'd hear about it. She thought bitterly about how typical this was of Paul, to make her seem crazy. Because it would be irrational to even consider the fact he was the screwed up one. Of course it would ruin his business if he had a crazy wife, which would mean a divorce and then she'd be stuck with two children and nowhere to go. And who would ever want a divorced old maid. In frustration she tugged and ripped the bandaids off her hands, trying her hardest not to gasp of the wounds that dug into her once perfect flesh. Closing her eyes and looking away she rummaged through the bag that Grace had packed her, releaved to find an appropriate outfit for her to wear. In a matter of moments Quinn had managed to transform herself from an inpatient to a wife of an executive business man. The pale green dress and cream cardigan seemed to fit distinctively well with the jewellery she had available to her, and since she didn't exactly have any curlers with her she tied her hair into an up-do chignon in defeat. Quinn wouldn't let her husband win, she just couldn't give him the satisfaction of it. Picking up the large handbag and leaving the hospital gown behind, Quinn made her way down the hospital halls with dignity, a look in her eyes that told every nurse in her way that she had full right to be leaving the premises. As she hailed down a cab she noted that it would probably best for her to buy some gloves.
By the time that Quinn Draper had arrived outside the tall office building it looked as if she'd stepped out of a luncheon. No one could ever have guessed that she'd spent the last 24 hours lying in a hospital bed. She thought that the silk beige gloves were a nice touch, since they seemed to be in this season. Then again she probably just read that in readers digest, which was full of lies. She would know, since her husband wrote most of it. As she left the cab the doorman greeted her with the same intrinsically polite nod of his hat that hadn't changed since her visit yesterday, and wouldn't change if Quinn had anything to do about it. She smiled eloquently as a gentleman caught the elevator door for her, and smoothly stepped inside to stand in front of the three men she knew where utterly adoring her.
"Morning, Quinn" One said with a bashful smirk, the blonde glanced behind her to recognize one of Paul's colleagues and in reply gave a humble smile.
"Looking beautiful as always" the other added, this time Quinn just didn't have the fancy to turn around. As the elevator rang its arrival onto the 11th floor she gave out a soft sigh and took a step out. Muttering an indignant 'thank you' to the men as she made her way through the rows of secretary's fiercely typing away. She loved walking to his office this way, it seemed so much more amusing. Quinn adored the way that their confident little heads ducked and stayed shamefully low as she walked past of them – the room once fully of chatty gossip going silent as a forest in her presence. She loved the power that she held over them, it was the sweetest revenge for all their sins against her. Quinn knew that every other woman had probably destroyed one of her friends marriage, and probably half of those had attempted to destroy her own. None of them would ever be her though. None of them would ever become the Mrs.
Just as Quinn was about to knock on her husband's door something caught her eye in the corridor, or more accurately, someone. She remembered the woman immediately; it was the same new girl that she'd seen the day before when she'd left Paul's office. It was the person who'd sent the Gardenia's, and put an extra 'x', and added the green ribbon that matched her eyes so perfectly.
"You" Quinn said before she could fully register the word passing through her lips. The short brunette stopped in her way as her eyes glared widely at the other woman. For a second Quinn swore she could see her tremble.
"Y-yes" She stuttered as she came forward. Quinn knew there was something different about her. She seemed to stick out less today, and Quinn didn't particularly think that was a good thing. She didn't want the office to get to her, since there was something different about her. It was refreshing to have someone who hadn't slept with everyone in the office. The brunette was pure and new, and though a little humble and definitely not from uptown, if Quinn was being honest to herself – neither was she.
"I don't think we met" Quinn finally replied clearing her voice a little "I'm Mrs-" she started but then held back "I'm Quinn"
"Nice to meet you" Rachel warily returned, staring down at the hand that the blonde had stuck out. She looked up at her through her dark lashes before extending her own and shaking it the way that her mother had taught her. "Rachel, I mean I'm Rachel" the brunette added with as much composure as she could manage. Unfortunately in that moment Quinn's attention was grabbed by the sound of laughter coming from her husband's office, her eyes flashed back towards Rachel's with an apologetic look before turning and making her way towards the door. Just as she was about to pull it open she wavered and looked back once more.
"Thank you for the flowers" she finished softly before sliding herself through the door and leaving Rachel in a stance of guilt.
In the office Paul wasn't alone. Two other colleagues joined the couple on the sofa. She recognized one of them to be Mitch, a fairly young man with greasy blond hair and a plump red face. Though Quinn hadn't known Mitch for a long time she could tell that he desired Paul's job more than anything, and he seemed to have the threatening determination to get it. The other one she knew better than any other individual in the room, even her husband. Salvatore had been an old friend of hers now, as she'd met him around the same time as she met Paul. He was much older than she was and had one of those kind faces that make you feel reassured. His skin had a touch of olive which came straight from the Italian side of his family, and his heavy accent and broad bones came right from his American. Salvatore had always had a soft spot for Quinn, though he never really liked to admit it.
"Gentleman" Quinn broke the laughter as she acknowledged each one of them, making them put their scotch glasses on the nearest surface. Her smile to Mitch was polite, her one to Salvatore earnest, and the one to her husband thick in a menacing betrayal. Paul was the first to approach her, sliding a hand around her waist and pressing his lips to her cheek in a kiss. She could smell the thick stench of alcohol on his lips and her body became ridged at his touch.
"Honey, I didn't think you'd be out till tomorrow" he muttered in her ear. If Quinn hadn't been so accustomed to smiling in jeopardising positions, perhaps the urge to slap him would've taken over completely. None the less her pearly white teeth gleamed with pure ecstasy as she raised her eyebrows at her husband whilst excusing herself from his grip.
"Why wouldn't I be? It was just a broken glass Paul, no need to keep me locked up" she chuckled softly, wavering her glare to the two other men that did the same. She could read the concern in Salvatore's expression, but he too knew better than to talk honestly in front of either Mitch or Paul. "Be a dear and pour me a glass, would you Mitch?" She asked as she perched herself on an empty armchair, placing her bag by her heels and relishing in the fact her injured hands were free from the weight. Mitch quickly did as he would told and handed over the fresh new glass with two ices to the blond, all whilst Paul looked deeply on edge. A silence broke over the scene.
"Paul was just telling us about the new lucky strikes campaign, readers digests are now complaining that smoking is bad for you, it's crazy talk" Salvatore exclaimed with a force smile and Quinn had the urge to a pull out a much needed cigarette. Mitch just shook his head in outrage but Paul still seemed frozen in his gaze. Finally Quinn's brutal eyes found their way to her husband's.
"And what do you think, Paul?" she asked as if nothing in the world was wrong, placing her glass on the table with a ring. "Do you think their bad for you?"
"No" he answered hesitantly, his eyes finding their way to his shoes in a stance of guilt.
"Well maybe I'll ask Dr Stevens next time I see him, he's such a kind man isn't he?" Quinn replied with the same threatening smile. Another uncomfortable silence smothered the room.
"Gentleman, if you'd be so kind as to excuse us I think Quinn and I have some thing we need to speak about" Paul concluded. Mitch's expression lit up as if he'd won the lottery, collecting his stuff and fleeing the room with such haste that Quinn feared he'd trip over. Salvatore was less relieved to be evacuating, glancing over to Quinn with an edge of question in his stare. She just nodded as if to say she'd be alright. And she would, since she had no other choice. Reluctantly he stood up and passed through Paul, giving him a sterner look than someone in a ranking below him should, but it shouted loud and clear to treat Quinn with respect. Finally the two of them were left in the room alone, and the rage that had previously filled Quinn seemed to leak out along with the others. Paul's face seemed to crumble with anguish as he turned away from his wife. The power and confidence that had inflicted him in the presence of his colleagues snatched away just as fast.
"Look at me." Quinn pleaded, unsure of the tone that played up in her voice. "We can't keep doing this Paul, it's not right. You're not happy, I'm not happy" with a shaking hand the blonde picked up the glass and had another sip. She didn't know why she was saying all of this. It was going against everything that her mother had told her. Being happy wasn't an option, it was a rule. She knew what Paul would see as the solution, the image of her without her wedding ring, without anything, ran around in circles in her mind. But when Paul turned around his expression didn't even come close to what she expected. There was no anger or rage in his eyes, like there were in Quinn's. There was no hate in his expression, like Quinn had seen in her own so many times. There was just a man who was broken, a man she didn't recognize. A man that looked more sorrowful than any other man she'd ever seen. He came towards her, but not in the swift walk that usually filled his steps, but with an almost hovel. He dragged himself onto his knees by her legs and took her hands in his, his deep brown eyes begging into hers. She didn't know what to do, she was so caught off guard that she simply had no choice than to shut her eyes for a moment just to take everything in. What was he doing? And more importantly, why?
"I'm sorry, Quinn. I'm so damn sorry" he pleaded. But something about the picture just didn't work. He was a man, and she was a woman. That meant she was always wrong, that's how it worked, that's how it had to work. So why were they both breaking all the rules. "We can fix this, I'll fix this. I just want you to be happy, Quinn. I'll give you anything, you want a new car, baby? A new necklace? Hey – we can even move house, I'll do it all for you" his grip tightened as he pulled himself up and with him the limp body of Quinn. He held her in his arms in plead for love, crushing her hair in his hands as he held her like he used to. "I love you Quinn, you name it and its yours" she drew in a sharp breath at his words as she still resisted his touch. She wanted to trust him, to believe him, to fall back into a pretence of love with him. How simple would it be, how jealous would all the wives be of her. There was no other life for her, there was no Mrs Draper without Paul. Bitterly she stopped resisting with such force and let him hold her for that short moment. Maybe it was because she was tired from the night and the hospital, or maybe it was because she missed being held.
"Okay" she finally whispered, feeling more empty than ever before. "We'll try, Paul." She said in surrender.
As he embraced her further and whispered words of love and promises of a better life and made his way to the nape of her neck, moving his lips at a greater rate of passion, Quinn only remained there by her body, her mind somewhere far away. Somewhere beyond the opaque wall of office and by the desk at the right turn. A desk where a girl sat with bright brown eyes, a girl that had shown her more kindness than her husband had in all their years. A girl that would, to both their ignorance, bring what was left of Quinn back to life. Just hopefully before it was too late.