AN: Flashback!

Quinn wasn't sure what alternate reality it was that she'd fallen into, but she was pretty certain it was some sort of punishment. Perhaps it was karma getting back at her for the many sins she'd committed over the course of her life. Her head hadn't stopped aching since that first fateful coffee meeting with Millie, her eyes were perpetually bloodshot, and sleep was something she fondly remembered as having enjoyed once.

And then there was the gaping, shredded hole in her life left by Rachel.

Tears welled up just at the thought of her name, something she'd been avoiding as much as possible. Quinn pressed her fingertips lightly to her eyes to try and stop them from allowing any other fugitives to escape down her flushed cheeks. She'd cried enough.

At least that's what she kept telling herself.

She was so empty now - stuck replaying memories that were all she had left, stuck trying to find the moment where it all went wrong. When she'd fallen asleep it had been with Rachel in her arms, with "I love you" still echoing in her ears; she'd been so blissfully happy and completely unaware that her whole world was about to end. That the apocalypse was nigh. Even that morning she'd woken up and felt like, for once, things were going her way. It was all going to be alright. It would work out in the end. The whole mess with Millie… she could handle it - she could handle anything - because she had Rachel to help heal her. To be her little ray of sunshine guiding her through the storm.

Now she was gone. She'd left, just like everyone eventually did.

And there was nothing now. She'd been abandoned again and now she was fumbling in the dark trying to hold herself together. Ryan was depending on her, Millie was depending on her, and she didn't have time to fall apart like she wanted.

She was a little afraid that if she found that time she wouldn't quite be able to put herself back together. Not fully.

"Quinn?"

Snapped out of her thoughts, Quinn quickly ducked at the sound of her name, rushing to find a file to hide behind so she could wipe her eyes. "What?"

Ryan hedged his way further into her office, ignoring the ache in his chest when he saw her hiding from him. She may be able to fool some of the others, but he knew when she was crying and when she was trying to cover it up. Actually, he was kind of offended that she thought that little trick with the file would be enough for him to not see what was going on. He was an FBI Agent for God's sake.

"Qball. Listen, we're going out tonight..." he said, forcing some merriment into his tone.

Quinn couldn't hold back the growl that passed her lips at his declaration. Going out with Ryan to watch him hit on girls and see all the other happy couples was not high on her to-do list, and she ground out a response to cut him off. "No, we're not."

"Yup, sorry, but we are. Stakeout duty has been shoved at us again," he blatantly lied, right through his shiny white teeth.

"You're joking," Quinn hissed, dropping the folder and glaring over at him.

"Oh, how I wish I was," he chuckled humorlessly, already envisioning the many ways she would kill him. The yelling part was going to be awe inspiring, he just knew it.

"Ryan, if I find out that this was one of your ill-conceived 'cheer-up-Quinn' schemes…" she warned, fingers digging noticeably into her desk.

Hiding a gulp of fear with a broad smile, he put a hand to his chest and gasped as though harmed by the mere suggestion. "That hurts, Quinn, you've hurt my feel bads. I would never attempt to cheer you up. That's just mean spirited and gross. Ew."

With a snort Quinn stood slowly, almost menacingly, from her desk and made a show of pulling her service pistol and badge from the top drawer. "Fine. Whatever. It's your funeral."

It really didn't take Quinn long to realize that she'd been had.

Ryan was acting stranger than usual and making even less sense somehow - which was frightening enough.

That was clue number one.

But when he pulled the car to a stop outside a bar…

They sat in silence for a very long, drawn out moment after he killed the engine. Quinn let him fidget and let him worry while she contemplated escape routes.

The easiest way would be to leave the car, flip him off as she went, and hail a cab, maybe to the airport. Maybe to fly away from it all and go back to DC. Maybe to anywhere that wasn't here.

The more tempting option was to slap him, tear him apart verbally for being an insensitive prick, and then hail the cab. Maybe she'd fly to Hawaii. Hawaii was nice.

The hardest would be to stay. To stay and let him fumble his way though trying to help shoulder some of the weight crushing her. To go in and have a drink or two or five until the pain in her heart was drowned. It was also the scariest thing she'd thought of, because it sounded so good. Too damn good. She could lose herself in the promising sting of alcohol and for a brief time she would be able to deal. There would be crying, she knew that for sure, and she'd probably confess to Ryan like he was her priest, but then she'd be able to sleep. Be able to pass out on her empty bed and not lie there for hours thinking about how it still smelled like Rachel, about how if she closed her eyes she could, without much effort, imagine that little body balled up next to her. Sometimes if she was still enough she could even still feel her, the thump of her heart and the rhythm of her breath. Those adorable snorts as she snored, that silky skin, soft dark hair…

"My parents are drunks," she uttered, jerking in surprise at what had fallen out of her mouth.

"I know," Ryan replied, surprise coloring his tone as well. He smiled over at her sadly and she wanted to hate him for it. "I promise I'll cut you off. I'm your battle buddy, Qball; I take that job seriously. I'd never let you do that to yourself."

Shivering at the memories, at things locked deep down where they would stay, Quinn nodded shortly and forced herself out of the car. "I'm still furious with you," she mentioned casually, curling her lip up at him. "And I'm going to get revenge. Bet on it."

Ryan held up his hands in surrender, having already known his fate the moment he set this plan into motion, then pointed with both towards the door. "Fine. Just try not to mess up my face, ok? The ladies like the face."

"That's because there's not much else for them to like," Quinn replied with as much sugary sweetness as possible, fake honey practically dripping from the words.

"Nice," Ryan huffed and pulled the door open for her with a gentlemanly flourish, only to nearly smack her in the face with it. "Oops, my bad."

"I hate you," Quinn sniffed, yanking the door from his hand to duck under his arm into the crowded bar. She took a deep breath and inhaled the familiar aroma - stale smoke that lingered, greasy food, spilt booze, and body odor. "Lovely."

Ryan ushered her further in and she grudgingly allowed him to herd her with one of his hands pressed into her lower back, the other slightly in front of them to clear a path. They made it out onto the main floor and then…

Quinn's traitorous heart leapt up into her throat at the sight of long dark hair. It could have been anyone, any other petite brunette perched there with perfect posture that came with nervousness. But she knew, she just knew.

That silken sable waterfall shimmered in the lighting as the woman stood, turning slowly to look back at them.

Rachel.

"Rachel?" Quinn said without meaning to, body angling forward, drawn like a magnet until the memories of their argument came rushing back, a warning that hit her like a slap to the face so harsh that she stumbled back into Ryan's hand.

Rachel waved awkwardly, coffee colored eyes glimmering, her lips twitching in an almost smile. "Quinn."

"You," Quinn spat, whirling around to grab a fistful of Ryan's shirt. "What is wrong with you? Have you lost what little mind you have?"

She had every intention of leaving, of running as far away as possible right that very second. She'd run until her legs couldn't carry her, until she could barely breathe anymore. Then she'd hail a cab and she'd…

"Q, don't run, just give her a chance," Ryan pleaded, his grip strong around her biceps as he forced her to meet his eyes. "You owe it to yourself to see this through, even if it's to the end. Don't give up."

"She left," Quinn hissed, low enough for his ears only, eyes closed tight to keep from seeing that hopeful look on Rachel's face. "Don't make me do this. I can't watch her walk away." Again.

"She didn't leave, Qball. She's right there and she's trying, ok? Talk to her, Quinn; use your words. You like your big words," he teased lightly, drawing a glare in response. He smiled and used his head to gesture back towards the bar. "I will be right over there, ready to swoop in and be the big brother if I have to. I'm not leaving you, alright? But you have to try for me." With that said, he turned her back around and gave her a light shove in Rachel's direction.

Neither woman said anything as Ryan stepped away from them. They each simply stared, hurt and hopeful, hands in pockets or hanging useless at sides, eyes searching and tongues tied.

"Quinn," Rachel finally said, her voice breathy like she'd run all the way to the bar. "Quinn, I'm so sorry."

"You left," Quinn managed, feeling like a broken record, but it was all she kept seeing. Rachel walking away.

"I came back," Rachel argued, tentatively reaching for a pale hand, pleased when Quinn didn't recoil from her touch. "I'm sorry, baby. I never should have left."

"I told you to," Quinn recalled, unconsciously moving closer. Not because she couldn't stand being this close to Rachel without being close to Rachel. She couldn't hear anyone else, see anyone else, even in the crowded bar. The whole world had shrunk down to just them. Always just the two of them.

"And I should have ignored you," Rachel admitted, smiling softly as she grabbed for Quinn's other hand. "I never feel like I deserve you, like I'm good enough for someone as special as you, or that I've earned your feelings for me. When you told me to leave… it was like an 'I told you so' from the universe. From inside my own head."

"I didn't mean it," Quinn whispered. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I didn't mean to push you away and keep you in the dark. I know I made you feel insecure about us and that's… I'm sorry. I was mad and hurt but I shouldn't have told you to leave. I never wanted that." She stared down at their hands and squeezed, the familiar sensation swamping her precarious control over her tears.

"I shouldn't have let myself doubt you like that, or let my fears get the better of me. I'm so embarrassed at what I said." Rachel stopped inching forward, the tips of her shoes against Quinn's, and looked up at her from under her eyelashes.

"Me, too. I was... I was going to talk to you - about Millie - but it's been hard. I needed - I still need - some time to deal with it first. I gave her my word that I'd keep it to myself," Quinn explained, watching Rachel closely for her reaction and waiting for the anger to resurface. "I hate the secrets; it kills me not to be able to confide in you, and I know it makes it hard to trust me, but I just... I thought you trusted me."

"I do trust you," Rachel said firmly, thumbs swirling against Quinn's hands. "I do. I trust you. I always have, with all of me. With everything."

That was all Quinn needed, and everything she'd been desperately wanting to hear. She pulled her hands free from Rachel's loose grasp and opened her arms, cautiously waiting to see what Rachel's choice would be.

Rachel reacted instantly, choking back a sob she launched herself into those open arms, throwing her own around Quinn's neck and clinging to her fiercely.

Quinn sighed, tears getting stuck in the back of her throat as she clutched Rachel to her just as fervently. It was going to be ok.

At the bar Ryan was nodding to himself somewhat smugly, and raised his fist to bump with someone, only to realize he was alone and staring at his friends having a rather private moment in a stalkerish manner. "I need a sidekick," he muttered to himself, twisting back to try and get the bartender's attention.

When Rachel could finally pry herself away from Quinn she dropped back and wiped at her eyes, then grinned, laughing through her tears. "I, um, I might have something for you, something special. A true 'Rachel Berry gift slash apology'. An apology gift."

Quinn didn't even bother with trying to clear her face, she just smiled back and quirked an eyebrow. "'I'm Sorry' cookies? I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to bring your own food into bars."

Shaking her head, Rachel took Quinn's hands again and started to pull her deeper in to the bar, towards the small stage set up in one of the corners. "No, baby, it's way better than cookies."

"That, I'm pretty sure, would get us arrested," Quinn said, eyes going wide as she glanced around the crowded bar.

"Not that," Rachel laughed, impulsively leaning in to kiss Quinn's cheek. "That, as you so articulately referred to it as, is happening later. If - if you want." Suddenly shy and unsure of herself, Rachel retreated with a blush and bit her bottom lip.

"I want," Quinn told her, gentle fingers lifting Rachel's quivering chin, hazel eyes locking onto worried brown. "Rachel, I want. Badly. I missed you."

"I can't sleep without you anymore," Rachel confessed, her full attention on the small, loving smile that now graced Quinn's lips.

"I don't want to sleep without you ever again," Quinn replied just as earnestly as she used the light pressure of her fingers to tilt Rachel's head back and then stooped to kiss her. It was sweet, if short, and more than enough to erase any lingering doubt or worry. It - in one simple act - sealed over the cracks left behind with the promise of a future. Rachel whined softly when Quinn pulled away, her eyes still closed as she held on to the sensation a second longer. When her eyelids slowly lifted they found Quinn watching her with such a lovesick expression it made her knees wobble.

"Sit down, Q," she husked once she found her voice again.

Quinn reluctantly pulled away with a pout, curious as to what Rachel had in store for her. Willingly taking a seat at the nearest table, she barely noticed that Ryan joined her. She'd thank him later; Rachel was the only one she wanted to concentrate on right now.

Rachel sucked in another deep breath, feeling lighter than a feather as she leapt onto the stage with the ease only found in a true performer. Taking the microphone from the stand, she beamed out at the crowd that was mostly ignoring her.

"This is for Quinn," she announced and then lowered her hand, staring at Quinn while she waited for the music to start.

This time they were going to get it right.

TBC...