A/N: Props and Nationals were amazing. I just. I had so many feelings. Graduation is next week. There's going to be a Faberry scene in said episode. I can't. I just. I can't.
A/N 2: Dedicated to blaze007 for an amazing review on the last chapter.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Glee or its characters. If I did, Faberry would be more in-your-face than Finchel and Klaine combined.
Word Count: This Chapter: 1,897. Total: 7,280.
Take My Breath Away
Chapter 4: Can We Make It?
"This is all your fucking fault!" The words echo and reverberate in Rachel's mind as she turns and silently runs to the bathroom to cry.
xxx
"He wouldn't hurt you, you know," Quinn says as she wheels herself into the bathroom. "He was drunk off his rocker and way out of line, but he would never, ever hurt you." Rachel sniffles and turns her back to the mirror, resting her hands on the edge of the sink. Quinn methodically reaches for a paper towel, dampens it, and offers it to Rachel. It's a role-reversed scene from last year's prom, and both girls notice. Fingertips brush as the paper towel exchanges hands, and the girls blush as sparks tingle up their arms. Rachel sighs quietly, her breath shaking.
"How do you know that he's drunk, Quinn?" The blonde smiles faintly.
"Santana told me." Rachel turns away from Quinn and watches the blonde in the mirror. The brunette's heart hurt at the thought of Quinn and Santana together. She felt... jealous. Maybe Brittany is right... Quinn continues to speak. "She said that when she was dragging him outside, she could smell the alcohol on his breath. When he was outside, he clung onto Puck and started sobbing hysterically. Something about rainbow monkeys. I dunno. What I do know is that he wouldn't hurt you. He was crude and illogical, sure. But he wouldn't do anything to hurt you." Rachel nods. Quinn's certain and firm voice is reassuring. But then, tears begin to form in the diva's eyes as she remembers the real reason why she came to the bathroom in the first place.
"Quinn, he was right." The blonde looks like she's about to say something, but Rachel barrels onward. "It is my fault. Not about the sex," she adds hurriedly, "about you." This only proves to confuse the blonde even more. Rachel sighs and continues speaking. "The crash." Now, Quinn understands. She opens her mouth to cut Rachel off, but the brunette keeps talking. "If I hadn't been texting you while you drove, you wouldn't have gotten hit. And if you hadn't been hit, you wouldn't be in a wheelchair. And if you weren't in a wheelchair, Finn wouldn't have tried to pressure you into standing when you weren't ready." The diva sighs.
"Rachel, you need to stop beating yourself up about that," Quinn whispers. "It's not your fault. And I know you're going to try and interrupt me and argue, but it's true. Everything that happened was all bad luck. It was bad luck that I got hit. Bad luck Finn saw me 'standing' before I was ready to really stand. It's all just bad luck, Rach. Please, please stop thinking you're to blame. Even if you were to blame, and you're not, I would forgive you. Okay?" the blonde soothes. Rachel is crying quietly– steady tears of joy that Quinn understands and Quinn cares and Quinn forgives her, even if she hasn't fully forgiven herself. Quinn pats her lap, asking Rachel to take a seat on her lap again. Rachel complies, and Quin winds her arms around the diva. The cheerleader presses a gentle kiss to the top of Rachel's head, and the diva blushes at the sweet gesture.
"Quinn, you're amazing..." Rachel whispers into her neck. She smiles against pale skin when Quinn's heart skips. "I really could fall in love with you. It's just–"
"Finn. I know. I understand. You're in love with him."
"But I want to give this a try." Quinn gives the diva an incredulous look. Rachel smiles and continues, "I can't explain it, but I find myself comparing him to you every time he and I are together. I'd think of how his huge hands don't fit mine quite right, and I'd wonder if yours would fit better. They do. You smell better than him. Smarter than him. You remember that I'm vegan, and you've done such amazing things for me. I really want to give us a try." Quinn smiles the "it's Rachel" smile.
"I'd like that. But Rachel... Do you think maybe we could talk about all this later? Perhaps... would you like to come over to my house after prom? My mother wants me to return home and rest my legs. Maybe you could stay the night, so we can talk about all this? This kind of thing requires heavy thought," Quinn rambles as Rachel beams.
"I would love to, Quinn Fabray," the diva replies.
"Good. How about... we'll drive to your house, grab some of your things, then go to my house? Does that sound alright?"
"Marvelous," Rachel answers. Quinn nods.
"Fantastic. Now, Rachel Barbra Berry, we have fifteen minutes left of prom. I suggest we go out there and have a good time. Try and put all this drama behind us and enjoy ourselves. C'mon." Rachel rises from her place on Quinn's lap and hurriedly helps wheel the cheerleader out of the bathroom and back into prom. Upon reentering the dance, they are quickly intercepted by Santana and Brittany, who tug them onto the dance floor. The four of them laugh and dance happily. Even Quinn, seated in her chair, manages to have fun. Brittany pulls Quinn aside to dance with her alone. Rachel eyes the two blondes, jealousy bubbling in her chest again. Santana notices, and tries to placate the diva.
"They've been friends since the get-go. Don't be jealous. Britt is hooked on me, and Quinn's hooked on you. You've got nothing to worry about." Rachel nods. Santana, realizing that for a moment, she seemed to care, tries to lighten the mood. "I wish you'd seen the face Finnept pulled when you were called for prom queen. He looked constipated. Well, he always looks constipated, but he was so confused; it was hilarious! And Quinn, well, she was so proud. It was adorable, really." Santana laughs, a hearty chuckle, and Rachel can't help but laugh along with her. Rachel sobers as a thought strikes her.
"Santana... Coach Sylvester said Quinn could have... could have died from Finn's freakout. Was that true? Could Quinn have died?" Santana shakes her head.
"Coach was just being dramatic. Quinn could have been re-injured, but I doubt she'd die. There's no way in hell Q would've let Fetus Face kill her off. Hell no. Q's got a lot to live for."
"Like what?"
"You. Duh. Yale. Beth. Her future," Santana rattles off easily. Rachel asks a question that had been on her mind since Quinn mentioned it.
"Santana, Quinn said that she comes third in importance. Who's first and second?" Santana laughs, as if the answer were obvious. To Rachel, it isn't.
"The answer is obvious. Maybe to you, it isn't. But to anyone who really knows Quinn, it is. You, Berry, are the second most important person in her life." Rachel's emotions conflict. One one hand, she's extraordinarily pleased that Quinn cares more about Rachel than herself. On the other, she felt extremely jealous of whomever takes precedence over her. Santana continues, "The most important person in her life is Beth. So, Berry, can you live with being second to Quinn's child? She loves you. Like, a lot. But Beth will always come first in her mind. You're second, sure, but this is Quinn's daughter." Rachel understands. Oddly, she's okay with it. In fact, she realizes that she'd be very disappointed in Quinn if anyone were more important than her child. Her jealousy turns to pride. Her thoughts are interrupted as rhe two girls turn to listen to Mercedes announce the final couple song of the night. Rachel and Santana nod in mutual respect and separate to seek out their favorite blonde, Quinn and Brittany, respectively. Rachel offers a graceful hand to Quinn.
"May I have this dance, m'lady?" Rachel smirks and Quinn laughs. The diva helps Quinn stand up, and provides a strong shoulder on which Quinn leans. The blonde's arms instinctively latch onto Rachel's hips, and the diva entwines her fingers at the back of Quinn's neck. Santana, otherwise preoccupied with Brittany, signals to the New Directions kids, who form a circle around the pair. Rachel understands; Quinn is afraid of being outed without being prepared. Suddenly, Rachel giggles, and Quinn quirks an eyebrow.
"It's just... the height difference. With you, it's perfect. Finn made me feel so small in comparison, but you feel just right." Quinn blushes, and hazel eyes meet brown.
"You are so beautiful, Rachel," Quinn whispers in honest awe. The diva blushes, tips her head upwards and pecks Quinn's cheek. She watches with pride as pale skin flushed pink.
"As are you, Quinn."
"...Do you really think this could work?" Quinn asks. Rachel nods with certainty.
"We won't know until we try, but I know it will. I can feel it." The diva takes Quinn's hand in her own and presses it to her chest, so that Quinn can feel Rachel's strong heart pounding quickly. Rachel's fingers curl atop Quinn's hand.
"I like you, Rachel. A lot." Hazel eyes plead with Rachel, begging her to understand what she really means. The diva realizes that, while Santana and Brittany are certain that Quinn loves Rachel, the blonde is still scared to admit it. Rachel offers her a small smile.
"I like you too, Quinn. A lot." Light blushes adorn both faces. Quinn leans down slowly, and Rachel meets her halfway. Their lips brush against each other gently. Sparks fly from the brief contact. Quinn tilts her head to the right, and lips meet again in a real kiss. Rachel forgets how to breathe. All that matters is that Quinn Fabray is kissing me. Quinn's lips are on mine. They fit perfectly. They're so soft and gentle and... oh... The kiss is gentle and curious. A soft rhythm generates between the girls. Santana and Brittany, resurfacing from their heavy and heated make-out session, catcall to the girls. They hardly notice; they're in their own little bubble, where nothing matters but each other.
They're so engrossed in each other, they don't notice Kurt's rapidly widening eyes.
