Big thanks to Jenn for editing and helping through my various writer's blocks.
Hiram was shocked at the image of his daughter as she came home that evening.
He had never witnessed or experienced one himself, but he was pretty sure that she was having a nervous breakdown. He hadn't seen her this upset since the break up with Finn over a year ago. Scratch that, he had never seen her that upset. Of course he hadn't been oblivious to her overall upset state of mind ever since the wedding and her friend's accident. It had hurt his heart to hear her cry herself to sleep almost every day for the last couple of nights, but this was...
The distraught way she looked when she threw herself in his arms that night was worse than anything he had ever faced. Upon spotting the small cut on her slightly swollen cheek the worst kind of scenarios entered his mind. Had she been mugged? Harassed? Had Finn hurt her?
It was impossible to get an answer out of her for the first twenty minutes or so. All he could do was lead her to the living room and hold his baby-girl tight as she soaked his shirt with her tears. At a point where he was almost ready to feed her Valium the heavy sobs turned into soft hiccups as she still clung to him.
When her breathing calmed down and she actually seemed capable of answering him, he leaned back a little bit to be able to look her in the eye. "What in the world happened Rachel?"
Rachel sniffed lightly. "I was an idiot," she answered. "I thought that if I tried hard enough Quinn would open up to me and let me help her..."
Hiram carefully ran his thumb across his daughter's cheek. "Did she do that to you?" The information he had on his daughter's friend was limited, but he knew enough about the girl, who used to throw iced beverages into Rachel's face, to not put physically hurting his daughter past her.
Rachel only nodded her head softly. While she had considered lying to her dad for a moment, she found she couldn't. The comparison didn't exactly add up but in full she felt like denying it would be a little bit like protecting an abusive husband.
"She didn't mean to," Rachel was quick to add when her dad's eyes widened in horror. She knew that Quinn didn't do it on purpose. Despite the hateful words Quinn had said to her, she knew that physically hurting her wasn't something she intended to do. The look on her face seemed so desperate and hurt. Close to the way it had on prom night, when Quinn had lashed out at her previously. "She's just hurting so badly right now and doesn't know how to handle any of those feelings."
"That's no reason to physically hurt you." Hiram interrupted before Rachel could come up with any further arguments to protect Quinn.
He frowned when Rachel stubbornly shook her head. "It was an accident," she kept on insisting.
"I don't care," he told her firmly. "If she's the reason that's making you cry so hard you can't even talk or breathe properly you won't go back there."
Only twenty four hours ago an order like that would've caused Rachel to protest heavily, but after what happened this afternoon she didn't have the strength for it. Or even see any reason for talking back.
"You won't have to worry about that," she said quietly, slowly loosening the embrace on her father's body. "I think she made her point pretty clear that she doesn't wants me there."
He didn't know if he should've been relieved by those words, but Hiram still wished she would give him more information about what happened. With worried eyes he watched her stand up.
"I'm going to bed."
Standing up as well he made an attempt to get more out of her. "Are you sure you don't want to talk? I can make you some hot cocoa."
She only shook her head and got on her toes to press a kiss against his cheek. "I'm really tired. Thanks for being there dad."
Hiram could only look after her as her even more than normal tiny looking frame slipped out of the living room and up the stairs.
Rachel remembered once seeing a cheesy 90s TV-show where a guy had suggested that a resolution for every problem could be found in a Steven Spielberg movie. While she had switched the channel a little while later, the sentence had stuck with her . She had felt that way about musicals all her life. No matter how she was feeling there was a musical number to fit her situation and help her.
That was why No Good Deed was blasting from her speakers as she went through her daily exercise on the elliptical the next morning. Rachel had never felt the song more. Or felt she understood the meaning behind it better.
The song was at the point in the musical Wicked when the heroine Elphaba reached the realization that all of the good that she had tried to do with her power, had ended in disaster. That even though she had meant well no good would ever come from her actions.
Rachel felt the exact same way about her situation with Quinn right now. She had gone in with nothing but the best intentions, trying to help her to cope with what had happened. Still here she was. Hurt – mentally and physically – and Quinn had closed off from her more than ever before.
She tried to make sense of Quinn's action's and had spent half of the night tossing and turning before falling into restless sleep. Deciding that exercising didn't make any sense when she wasn't focused on it, she slipped from the machine and stood in the middle of her room, just listening to the song she'd had on repeat for a good twenty five minutes now. A bit of understanding hit as she started singing along to her favorite line.
With her eyes closed tight and a hand pressed against her stomach, she started to sing;
One question haunts and hurts
Too much, too much to mention:
Was I really seeking good
Or just seeking attention?
Is that all good deeds are
When looked at with an ice-cold eye?
If that's all good deeds are
Maybe that's the reason why
Rachel had always found it was the most powerful part of the song, but right now she felt the true meaning behind it hit for the first time. She replayed everything that had happened in the past few days since the accident again and again and tried to reflect on her real motivation behind helping Quinn. Maybe it was true, while she of course wanted to be there for Quinn as a friend and help her feel better, the main motivation even if it was subconsciously had been to ease her own guilt.
Since I cannot succeed
Fiyero, saving you
I promise no good deed
Will I attempt to do again
She had tried her best to "save" Quinn and had obviously failed. Maybe Santana had been right from the start. Quinn hadn't wanted to see anybody and they should've just accepted it. Not force her into anything she didn't want.
Trying to be there for Quinn had left her with a crushed self esteem and a stinging cut on her cheek.
If Quinn didn't want her help then so be it. She wouldn't force it on her anymore.
With that resolution in mind she sang out the last notes of the song passionately.
No good deed
Will I do again!
Santana cornered Rachel when she saw her in an empty class room as the last person to pull together her stuff.
"What happened to your cheek? Did Finn give you a preview of married life?" She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. In truth the curiosity was killing her. Not only to find out where the cut on her cheek came from – Santana had a vague idea how that could have happened, but what she really wanted to know, was how Quinn was doing. The diva had successfully avoided her the day before, and just because she refused to go there herself didn't mean she had no interest in finding out how her best friend was doing.
Rachel only looked at her warily. "Quinn happened," she told her.
Santana's eyebrows shot up. She had suspected something like that Leave it to Fabray to take Rachel down even when she's bound to a bed, but it was weird that Rachel was so monotonic about it. "How did she manage that?"
"She threw a water pitcher at me," Rachel offered as explanation, her eyes tired. The determination and energy from the other day gone.
She bit back a snarky comment about a water pitcher being an upgrade from slushies, but Rachel already looked down enough and while she normally didn't hold back from kicking somebody who was already down, she did want to get information from her.
"How is she?" Santana asked worriedly.
"She's throwing things and mean to a level that would manage to bring even you to tears." Rachel paused and sighed. "You were right from the beginning. I should've never gone back there when she didn't want anybody around."
Santana didn't like the tone in Rachel's voice. It was resignation. Rachel sounded like she was giving up. She hated to admit it, but if there was someone who could get Quinn out of her shell it was Rachel. Of course Quinn was going to be a freaking bitch before letting anybody in, but that was just how she was. It got way worse before it got better.
"So you're going back for more water pitchers today?" Santana did her best to sound as uninterested and disapproving as possible.
Rachel huffed and pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "I have some self respect, Santana. If Quinn doesn't want me there, than I won't force my support on her."
Santana got a hold of Rachel's arm as she just turned to leave the room. She couldn't let it happen. She had counted on Rachel's persistence to get through to Quinn. Someone had to be there for the blonde. Santana was pretty certain that constantly buzzed Judy wouldn't be able to give her daughter much of support.
"You can't just give up on her!" Santana cursed internally for her outburst. So much for appearing uninterested.
Up close she could see how red Rachel's eyes really were; it was obvious she had cried not too long ago. Her posture was just as surrendered as her voice when she answered. "Why don't you go there and have some insults and objects thrown at you. I did the best I could."
"So you're done?" Santana asked. "That's it? I never would've taken you for a quitter."
Rachel eyes fired up at that insult and for a moment the cheerleader thought she had won. "I tried," she bit out seemingly fighting more tears. "Don't pressure me into anything just because you're too much of a coward to go back there yourself."
With that Rachel shook off Santana's hand and left the room in a rush.
Judy's fingers drew over the outline of the flasks inside her purse. Quinn had sent two nurses out the door crying already today and it looked like she was about to scare off the third one.
The young nurse had seemed nervous from the moment when she entered the room. Judy wasn't sure if it was because Quinn already had a reputation or because of the way Quinn was viciously watching every move the girl made, but it didn't matter. Nor did it matter, the girl who introduced herself as Andrea had shown weakness and Quinn had picked up on it immediately.
As a drop of fluid from the IV leaked out Quinn raised an eyebrow at the girl. "Have you even done this before?"
Andrea's eyes shot up when she was addressed, insecurity visible in them. "Of course."
"Then I guess you're just an idiot who isn't capable of easy tasks?"
"I assure you I'm very competent in my job and-" as the girl let go of the seemingly connected parts of the IV, the line leading from the IV bag fell off and onto the floor, leaking all of the fluid there.
Quinn groaned in annoyance. "So you would be in charge of saving my life if I went into cardiac arrest right now? A person who can't even find her ass with her own two hands?"
Andrea bit her lip and swallowed. "I'm really sorry." She picked up the IV line from the floor along with the bag hanging on the holder. "This isn't sterile anymore. Let me just get a fresh set."
There were tears in the girl's eyes as she rushed out of the room. Judy gave her daughter a disappointed look. "Quinnie..."
"That's three before noon," Fran commented as she walked into the room passing by the upset nurse. "What are you trying to do, set a record here?"
Quinn rolled her eyes at her sister. "It's not my fault they are all PMSing and overly emotional."
The elder sister just pursed her lips and dropped into her chair. "Sure it isn't."
Judy stood up a second later with a bright smile painted onto her face. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to freshen up for a second."
"You know, we could just do shots together, mom," Quinn called after her as she slipped into the small en-suite of the hospital room.
As ladylike as she could she sat down on the closed toilet seat and fished the flask out of her purse. Shaky hands unscrewed the cap and brought it to her lips. The liquid burned as badly as ever and the taste was revolting. She'd never really liked the taste of vodka, which was ironic since it was her stress relief for almost fifteen years. The drink however had the perk that she hardly ever smelled of alcohol.
This was her fourth trip to the bathroom today. Quinn had done such an extreme 180 since yesterday that it scared Judy and almost made her want the stoical quiet version of her daughter back.
As of right now Quinn was absolutely vicious. No matter who from the medical staff would enter the room, Quinn would immediately detect their insecurities and throw them mercilessly in their face.
As her mother it would probably be her task to set Quinn in her place, but if she was being honest, Judy was afraid that she would pull Quinn's anger onto herself if she did that. So instead Judy had made the decision to bring a big gift basket along with a generous donation for the nurses coffee cashthis afternoon to apologize for her daughter's behavior.
"Cleaning up feces for a living, your parents must be so proud," Quinn told nurse Katie as she pulled off her latex gloves and threw them into the garbage. "I guess your grades weren't good enough for med school, huh?"
The nurse didn't answer anything, but just turned her back and left the room a few moments later.
Quinn breathed in relief and let herself sink deeper into her cushion. That had been the last round of the day. Nobody would bother her until the mandatory bedding round at four in the morning.
She felt drained of all her energy. Being a bitch to everyone all day was exhausting, nor did she like that side about herself very much. Seeing several people leave her rooms in tears today wasn't something she was necessarily proud of. It was just that it helped her. For one people were leaving her alone. None of the nurses tried to start an uplifting conversation with her. They just came in, did their job and left as quickly as possible.
It also made her feel like, despite all of her helplessness, she had some kind of control. Being outrageously mean maybe didn't change how messed up her situation was right now, but it was some kind of an outlet for all of the emotions that were slowly threatening to suffocate her.
And it had helped her to finally get Rachel to back off. She had felt so relieved when the visiting hours today had ended without the tiny brunette showing up.
Mostly.
It was minimal, but a part of her was also disappointed. No matter how much she tried to deny it. The feeling was there.
Because despite all of the peace and quiet it brought, it really meant that yet another person had given up on her because she was just so fucked up.
Sunday every single week for as long as she could remember was brunch day in her family. It was the one time that her "fully committed to take-out" father's would put on their "I love my dads" aprons and cook a brunch that would bring the head chefs of the best restaurant in town to shame.
She wasn't really surprised when she went to the kitchen that Sunday morning and found double the amount of food than usual on the table. Her dads had pampered her ever since her breakdown after getting home from her visit with Quinn Thursday night and comfort food was one of the things they did best.
"Who's going to eat all of that?" she laughed when her dad came out of the kitchen carrying another gigantic plate of chocolate chip pancakes – vegan friendly of course just like all of the options.
Her dad put the plate down and led her to her chair with an arm around her shoulders. "I'm not letting you up from this table until you've eaten at least half of it. I've been scared I was going to be stabbed by your collarbone every time you gave me a hug for the past week."
"Good thing I don't have to worry about that with you," her dad threw in coming from the kitchen.
Hiram gave his husband a glare. "Three pounds! I only gained three pounds! And I'm still convinced that you did manipulated with the scale!"
"It's a high tech digital scale. How in the world would I be able to manipulate it?"
"Don't think I didn't see the flirty looks you were giving the store clerk when we bought it," Leroy shot back.
Rachel leaned back in her chair as her parents kept on bantering back and forth with each other. She loved the way there were constantly teasing each other in a loving way. The normality of it was just what she needed after everything that had happened over the past week.
Her thoughts went back from that just in time to see her dad put his arms around her daddy and peck his lips. "I don't care if you gain fifty pounds; only means there is so much more of you to love."
She rolled her eyes at the cheesy line. "Well, I'm starving, how about we get started before it gets-"
The doorbell being rang insistently interrupting her. The three of them looked at each other in surprise. "Are we expecting guests?"
After a communal shake of heads, Hiram shrugged and went to get the door.
"You didn't invite Finn, did you?"
Rachel shook her head with a huff. She had done her best to avoid her fianceé during the previous week. On top of everything that had happened with Quinn she really hadn't felt like dealing with the anger she felt towards him for avoiding any kind of blame in Quinn's accident.
"Maybe it's Mrs. Hodge from next door. She's been coming by for all kinds of baking utilities lately." Leroy stacked three more pancakes onto his daughter's plate. "I'm serious, you're starting to look anorexic, you have to eat, sweetie."
Before Rachel could answer, her mouth fell open as her daddy came back into the room with Judy Fabray by his side. The girl swiped her lips on a napkin even though she hadn't taken a bite yet and got to her feet.
"Mrs Fabray, nice to see you again," Rachel hoped that the smile on her face didn't look too much like a grimace. "What brings you here?" A terrible thought of this being an bad news visit crossed her mind. "Is Quinn okay?"
Judy's smile flattered only a little. "She's fine... well, actually isn't, she's..." she sighed at loss for words. "Why aren't you visiting any more sweetie?"
Rachel raised her hands defensively. "Mrs. Fabray-"
"Please call me Judy."
Rachel sighed. "With all due respect, but it's obvious that Quinn has no desire for my being there. She made that very clear. And I'm not going to force my friendship on her."
With desperation in her eyes Judy took a few steps closer and rested her hands on Rachel's shoulders, making the girl fear for a moment she would shake her. "Quinn is just confused and overwhelmed with her … condition and she isn't herself right now." She reached out to put a strand of hair back over Rachel's shoulder. "Please come with me and see her."
"I'm sorry, no. Quinn doesn't want me there."
Judy let go of the girl and threw her hands up in frustration. "She doesn't know what she wants. How can she? After everything... Would you really just leave a friend alone who clearly needs your help?"
Rachel looked down guiltily as she answered helplessly. "It's not that I didn't try... Quinn is-"
"Mrs Fabray," Hiram stepped in front of his daughter in a protective manner. "I understand that you're an upset parent worried about your daughter so I'll let it slide that you just barked in here on a Sunday morning, interrupting our family time. I can't however have you coming in here, trying to pressure our daughter into something she clearly – and for good reasons – doesn't want to do. Maybe you should have a talk with Quinn about why Rachel doesn't want to come and see her."
Seeing Judy Fabray start crying unrestrained in the middle of their family room wasn't something Rachel would have expected in a million years. The woman just stood there arms hanging loosely at her side as she sobbed and sniffed like a little kid.
It was Leroy who first got over the astonishment and carefully led the blonde to sit down at the dinner table. "I don't know what to do anymore," Judy said, supporting herself on her arms as she cried into her hands. "I know that Quinn is overwhelmed with everything, but so am I and she is just so mean and vicious … and hurting. I know my little girl is hurting and I don't know how to help her."
Rachel sat down next to Judy carefully pushing a cup of coffee in her direction. "She's not acting any different towards me. I don't see how me being there is going to change anything."
The older woman clutched Rachel's hand before she had a chance to pull back. "But it will. I know it will."
Rachel was torn. Of course the thought of going back to Toledo and seeing Quinn had crossed her mind more than once over the past two days. She felt stuck somewhere between an obligation to go back and the need for her own sanity not to. And there was the promise she had made to herself. The promise that she was done helping Quinn until she would at least apologize to her.
"Why me?" Rachel breathed out when the woman kept looking at her with a pleading tearful face that just reminded her so much of Quinn right then. "Why not ask someone else?" Off the top of her head Rachel could have easily named four to five people who had an equal or even stronger connection to Quinn than she had ever had.
"Because you care for her," Judy answered. "You cared enough to come back even though she asked you not to. You did it even after she pushed you away. Please don't give up on her now."
Rachel chewed on her lower lip, taking a while before daring to look back into the woman's desperate eyes. She shook her head then slowly. "No. I can't. I'm sorry."
The grip on Rachel's hand tightened. "Please," Judy was outright begging now. "Please come and see Quinn."
Tears were starting to collect in Rachel's eyes as well and she had to look away from the mother's tear streaked face.
It was at that point when Leroy decided to step in as he gently, but firmly put his hands on either side of Judy's shoulders, going down on one knee next to her. He handed her a handkerchief. "I'm sorry Mrs Fabray, I can see you're hurting and I realize that your family must be going through a terrible time, but I have to think of my family. If Rachel says she doesn't want to go then I must ask you to accept that."
At his words it was like something in Judy flipped, as she straightened her shoulder's and wiped the tears from her face with the cloth she had received from Leroy. It was like she suddenly remembered that she was Judy Fabray. And Judy Fabray didn't just cry in a strangers family room, begging a teenager for help. "I apologize," she told the Berry family. "I don't know what got into me. I have been behaving unacceptable." She stood up from her chair putting the handkerchief down next to the coffee cup she hadn't touched. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. Thank you for your hospitality. I can find my way out."
As she slipped out to the doorway, Rachel went after her caught in the moment. She caught up with her just as Judy had opened the front door. When she saw the woman look at her with a hopeful face all of the apologies and words slipped from her mind. She just stood there watching the blonde woman leave with a guilt-ridden face.
At first when the PT told her that they wanted to start sitting her up in bed to slowly strengthen her circulation she sort of looked forward to it. Her PT, Julia, explained it to her in all of it's complexity. After a week of lying down flat she would right out collapse if they just lifted her in a wheelchair without preparing her, so what they would do is a step by step mobilization. That meant slowly raising the position of her upper body so the circulation could get used to sitting again. If her vitals were okay during the steepest sitting position the transfer into the wheelchair would happen.
While it was great to finally have something else besides the damn white ceiling in her line of sight, sitting up turned out to be only slightly more frustrating than lying flat down.
For one there is an increasing amount of pain in the part of her spine that she can feel. It start's right above the injury and pretty much just pulls up through the rest of her spine. Julia told her it's partly from the injury and partly because she has to get used to the position again. Quinn didn't really care. She was in pain and that sucked.
And then there was the slipping down. It was already bad when she was lying flat on her back but for the time they have her sitting up every day she slipped down pretty much in fifteen minutes intervals. The first few times she actually tried to push herself up with her good right hand, but it had left her only more frustrated. It was exhausting to realize over and over again that it was no use to try any big movements without any control over the lower half of her body.
Fran sat next to her in her usual chair, frowning over Fifty Shades of Grey. Occasionally she would make comments about the overuse of the word "murmur", "mumbled" and "whispered" ("Do these people ever speak in a normal volume?") or how it was the worst book she had ever read.
"Where is mom today?"
The elder one didn't even bother to take down her book or look at her. "She's in Lima this morning. Only told me about running some errands."
"Why?" Quinn huffed. "Is the local liquor store already sold out?"
"Don't start," Fran warned.
"What? So I'm not allowed to make a comment about our mother's obvious alcoholism? She isn't even trying to hide it anymore. She was swaying in her chair by the end of last night."
In a frustrated gesture Fran lowered her book and put it down on the nightstand. "You know I'll have to go back to Chicago tomorrow morning, right?"
"So?"
"So, you'll have to drop the act just around then. You can't go all über-bitch on mom. You have managed to drive everyone else away and when those walls that you build up so persistently come crashing down, which they will, you're going to want her around."
Quinn felt her jaw clench. Absolutely unwilling to admit aloud or even to herself that Fran had made a point. Instead she just let the spiteful rush of words that worked it's way up her throat come out uncensored.
"Daddy would be so proud of you," she bit out sarcastically. "Not addressing how fucked up this family really is, was always his specialty and right now you're doing such a good job following in his footsteps. You might have been able to drop the last name Fabray, but inside you'll just always be Russell Fabray's perfect little angel, won't you?"
Fran looked at her with hard eyes and Quinn knew she had hit the right nerve. Telling her sister that she was like the father they both hated with the fire of a hundred suns was pretty much the worst thing she could say.
"It's true," Quinn added mercilessly. "You can't even deny it. When you went to college you might have felt like you'd be able to disconnect yourself from his legacy, but it's just in you. You took the major dad approved of, married a guy that met his expectations, all you have to do now is drop one or two kids that you can ignore while you start drinking to make your life more bearable and you'll have our parents marriage."
That scenario was just a fear that Quinn herself had harbored about how her future would turn out. It had disappeared and she had started imagining a different kind of life for herself when the Yale acceptance letter arrived. But now she didn't have the slightest clue what kind of future awaited her or if she'd even be able to go to Yale, let alone ever have a family of her own.
It took Fran a moment to calm herself down after her sister's words. "I worked through my daddy issues with a therapist a couple of years ago, Quinn. Maybe you can start working through yours once you actually start talking to the hospital therapist."
Not giving Quinn a chance for any further comments she fished her Ipod from her purse and plugged the earphones in with the volume turned up to the max.
Quinn was left staring out the window yet another time. The kick she had felt at first by taking all the people around her to pieces was becoming less and less satisfying. She could feel that all those damn unresolved emotions where starting to boil in her, again with no outlet. It slowly but surely felt like some giant weight was resting on top of her chest, suffocating her a little more each day and she was pretty much out of options on how to deal with it.
Rachel lay awake for a long time the day of Judy Fabray's visit. If she had felt guilty before, the remorse was absolutely eating her up at this point. There was no longer just the fault of being responsible for Quinn's accident weighing on her. The spark of bad feeling about giving up on Quinn had turned into a blazing fire after she'd rejected Judy's desperate plead to change her mind.
After the woman had left brunch was pretty much over before it had ever really begun. She hated seeing the worried and disappointed looks on her dads faces, but she still told them that she had lost her appetite and decided to go back to her room instead.
She had tried to distract herself with usual Sunday afternoon activities like reading a book or watching some thing on TV but none of it managed to really distract her.
Even though the decision to leave Quinn alone and not go back seemed valid and reasonable, she found herself questioning it more than ever before. Had she given up too fast on Quinn? In frustration she looked at the daunting red numbers on her alarm clock. It was past one in the morning already and sleep still wasn't an option for her.
Her mind tried to recap the reasoning behind her decision to not go back. How she had listened to Wicked and came to the conclusion that all of her attempts to help out Quinn had been fruitless and most importantly grown out of selfish reasons, because going to see and help Quinn had been an attempt to make herself feel better in the end. But was that a bad thing? What would make Rachel feel better was Quinn's state improving. The selfish motivation left aside, it was actually a good thing.
Rachel's thoughts turned back to the musical that had helped her to sort her feelings out before. Yes sure, in the song Elphaba made the resolution to not do anything good anymore, but in the end she didn't really stick to that for more than a couple of minutes. The opposite happened. She did the biggest good deed yet and passed the book of spells on to Glinda so she could become the good witch and be the one to make a change.
Rachel pondered over that. Elphaba sacrificed herself – or at least feigned it – for the bigger meaning. So doing good deeds didn't necessarily mean that good would come from it. Just because she was there for Quinn didn't mean that Rachel would receive an open-arm welcome or even a thank you, but that didn't matter because it was the right thing to do.
Hiram and Leroy looked at each other in discomfort when Rachel announced that she would be late for dinner this Monday evening. Both of them had been ready to leave for work,but immediately dropped their briefcases and brought their full attention to their daughter.
"Why?" Leroy approached Rachel slowly. "You don't have any extracurricular activities on Monday."
"No I don't." Rachel shook her head before looking her daddy directly in the eyes. "I'm going to Toledo to see Quinn this afternoon," her voice as determined as her face.
"Oh, no." Hiram broke in before she even had a chance to finish her sentence. "You're absolutely not."
The thought of his daughter back at the bed side of a girl that was obviously verbally and physically abusive wasn't sitting well with him at all. And with the dramatic appearance Judy Fabray had made here yesterday almost harassing Rachel into coming back, he didn't want her anywhere near that family.
"I know you're worried-"
Leroy interrupted this time. "More like anxious."
Rachel rolled her eyes. "I know you're worried; and what happened with Quinn hasn't failed to leave a mark on me either – literally – but I'm asking you to trust my judgment here."
The fathers looked at each other with uncertainty. Neither of them liked the idea, at all, but it was obvious that Rachel had already made up her mind. Which meant they would have to tie her up if they wanted to stop her from going to Toledo.
Rachel could see her dads eyes blazing with worry. "I promise what happened the other day was an accident and won't happen again. You heard Mrs. Fabray yesterday, Quinn isn't well-"
"If she's throwing water pitchers she clearly isn't well mentally." Her dad told her firmly, with his husband nodding in agreement next to him.
"It is the right thing to try and help her. Even the bible says so. If someone slaps you on the right cheek, offer the other cheek also." Rachel was determined to make her father's understand and didn't shrink back from using the big, dramatic arguments.
"We're jewish, we don't have to listen to anything that Jesus said," Leroy told her his opinion unaffected by her stand.
"Dad, Daddy," she scolded softly walking right in front of them to look them in the eye. "Can you please just try to be supportive? You raised me to follow my heart and that is what I'm doing here."
Entirely aware of a lost cause when they saw one both men held back from further attempts to make Rachel change her mind.
With the feeling that he was sending her off to war, Hiram watched his daughter leave the house, sharing a look with his husband that made it obvious that neither of them approved of this at all.
Monday was the day when she was going to be moved into a wheelchair for the first time. Everyone around her seemed extra cheerful and excited. Quinn couldn't really share that excitement. Why would she look forward to sitting in that thing for the first time anyway? She would have to spend the rest of her life in it. She didn't hesitate to tell exactly that to everyone who dared to ask her how she felt about her, how they put it, "big day".
About an hour in the morning she spent just with Julia her assigned PT who moved all of her joints as usual. When that was done she raised the head of Quinn's bed and lowered the foot, leaving Quinn in a leisure chair position which looked a little bit like sitting in a dentist chair before it was moved back; to prepare her circulation for the real thing, so she wouldn't get dizzy or even collapse later when they would move her out of bed for the first time.
"Well isn't this nice?" Her mother commented when she showed up at noon. "You're able to sit up for lunch and won't need any help eating."
Quinn's reply was short and had only the intention to hurt. "Let's see if you stay sober enough to do the same for dinner today."
Judy only pursed her lips at the answer briefly and then right away went on about how exciting it was that Quinn was allowed to leave her bed for the first time, what a huge step it was in her recovery process.
Quinn barely listened and wondered instead what exactly the progress of her situation was. Regardless if she was lying down or sitting in a chair, the lower half of her body would still just hang there uselessly as if it wasn't even part of her anymore. So no, Quinn didn't really see anything progressing.
It was four in the afternoon, her mother had already left for the day, when the moment everyone but Quinn had been waiting for, had finally come. Her vitals had been stable for the required amount of time and for the first time in over a week Quinn was actually wearing a pair of pajama pants her mom had brought her from home. It was nice not to be quite as exposed, in other words not have the diaper and the catheter leading from it on free display.
Quinn's eyebrow flipped up in disbelief as someone from the PT staff rolled in a wheelchair. It wasn't the classical wheelchair like the one Artie used. They had brought in a mobilization wheelchair. Quinn remembered that her Grandmother had sat in one like this when they had visited her in the nursing home in the past.
"All in good time," Julia told her in response to her distasteful face. "There isn't only the injury on your back to think about. You had hip and shoulder surgery, for now this is the better option until your bones have had a little more time to heal."
Quinn didn't look impressed. "Whatever. Can we just get this over with?"
There were two nurses, one doctor and two PT members in her room. Quinn realized that it wasn't – paraplegia aside – going to be necessarily easy to move her out of bed. She was still attached to various IV's, had a few wound drainages hanging from the different places where she had surgery done and there was the catheter. It would have been a logistical challenge to get her out of bed even if her legs worked. Despite the logic of it she didn't like so many people fussing about her, especially given her current condition.
Her bed was brought back into a laying position and the wheelchair was brought parallel to the bed also in a laying position. The neurosurgeon Dr. Weiss gave the commando. "Okay, everybody, you know what you have to do."
As everyone around her set into motion Quinn literally felt like she had involuntarily ended up with the role of the patient in an episode of Grey's Anatomy. Every single member of the staff had been assigned a task in order to move her out of the bed and turned to it immediatley.
One of the nurses moved behind the head end of the bed and made sure all of the IV and vital lines were in order and wouldn't get messed up. The second nurse took care of all of the drainages including the catheter. The two physical therapists were on either side of her, ready to transfer her with the help of a sheet. Dr. Weiss remained at the foot of the bed observing everything with hawk's eyes.
In true Emergency Room fashion one of the PT's counted out loud "Okay. One, Two, Three!"
Her body was lifted in the air, which felt really, really weird with the lacking feeling in her legs and pelvis and only a moment later she was brought down on the slightly harder surface of the mobilization wheelchair. They kept her lying flat there for a little while until all of the hoses and tubes had been adjusted properly.
The surgeon nodded towards the PT and with the push of a button and a few seconds later Quinn found herself sitting up right for the first time since she had been cut out of her car by the rescue team over a week ago.
"Good job everybody," the doctor praised and then she turned to Quinn. "Are you feeling okay, Quinn?"
The blonde only shrugged. "I guess." It wasn't like she was feeling any different.
The doctor put her hands on her hips, looking everything but amused. "I know everybody here has been somewhat tolerant of your bratty behaviour, but when I ask you a question, it's not because I want to make small talk but because I'm responsible for your well-being, so I need you to give me more than a proper answer."
"I feel fine," Quinn bit out, not appreciating the woman's attitude in the least. "No different than before."
"Good." Dr. Weiss seemed satisfied with the answer.
Once everything was put into place Julia moved behind the chair and rolled Quinn up closer to the window, remarking that she was looking out there all day long anyway and maybe could get a better view this way. She placed a drinking cup and a couple of magazines from the nightstand on the little tray that had been moved in front of Quinn and was on top of the armrests. Quinn was pretty sure that the tray normally had the purpose of keeping disoriented patients from getting up.
Julia was the last one in the room giving Quinn some basic final information. She told her that for today they would aim for no more than an hour of sitting time. During the next few days they would slowly increase that stretch to get her body used to it.
"I want you to push the call button at the slightest sign of dizziness or discomfort. This isn't a test you have to pass, do you understand me? You have to tell us if you're not feeling okay."
Quinn had fixed her eyes outside and only gave Julia a nod. She was in it for barely more than a minute and she already hated the damn chair. The sensitivity ending somewhere around her navel made sitting awkward. She tried to lean forward a bit to get a better look of the outside area, but that turned out to be extremely difficult, as was any movement she attempted with her upper body. They had told her to prepare for that, and still Quinn couldn't have imagined that it would be just this hard. That it would be this bad. She tried her best to ignore the thought in her mind that it would never really get any better.
"Quinn, did you hear what I said?"
"Push the button when dizzy," Quinn deadpanned. "Yeah I got it. It isn't exactly rocket science."
With a sigh the PT turned, almost knocking right into the person who was just about to enter the room.
She called out to her patient. "Quinn, you have a visitor."
Rachel was irritated. She had not been prepared for such a prompt entry. She was still trying to figure out if she was really going to knock, if she was really going to do this when the door just opened and all of Quinn's attention had been drawn to her immediately by the nurse who just left the room.
With Quinn's eyes boring into her Rachel remained in the door frame for a moment before plucking up her courage and taking a step closer to the blonde. "Hello Quinn."
Quinn couldn't even say she was surprised to see Rachel back. It had really only been a matter of time, before she came back. Only she hadn't expected her so soon. According to how upset Rachel had been when ran out of the room only four days ago, she would've suspected that it would take her about two weeks more to gather up the courage to come back.
"Rachel," she acknowledged the other girls presences with a nod and turned her gaze back outside. "How's your cheek?"
Though Quinn's words irritated her, Rachel was relieved that it held none of the outright hatred and mercilessness from the last time. That encouraged her enough to approach her and pull a chair up to sit next to her. "Healing quite nicely. Even though I'd appreciate it if you stay clear of throwing any objects this time."
"Can't make any promises," Quinn answered.
The hint of seriousness that wavered in her voice managed to raise Rachel's nervousness again. She captured her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to remember the reasoning of why exactly she had thought this was a good idea. She fought back the urge to push the sipping cup in front of Quinn out of her reach.
Quinn didn't look directly at her but was aware of the girl being antsy in her seat. While she wasn't really surprised that Rachel had come back, Quinn felt it put even more stress on her. She had been in this damn chair two minutes, trying to adjust to the feel of it. It took up all of her energy. She seriously didn't feel capable of fighting off any attempts at small talk. And she certainly didn't have the emotional energy to be mean enough to scare Rachel off again. This chair felt like it was sucking the energy right out of her. When she lay in bed it was easier to talk herself into ignoring the lack of feeling, sitting in this chair made it tremendously harder.
For Quinn it was safe to say that it wasn't good timing that Rachel chose just this moment to make heartfelt conversation.
"I just want you to know that I'm going to be here for your Quinn. I don't care if you throw that whole nightstand at my head. I've made up my mind and I'm not going to leave your side."
Quinn didn't respond to any of Rachel's mini monologue. Instead her eyes fell onto the brunette's hand that was nervously twitching in her lap, clearly in order to keep herself from reaching out to Quinn. She figured it was a good thing that Rachel could read her well enough to know that she didn't like to be touched in this moment.
When there was no reply, Rachel took that as a good sign and tried to get a positive message across.
"So how are you? Is this the first time you're out of bed? Does it feel very weird?"
Quinn didn't feel strong enough to offer Rachel an answer, instead she found herself continuing to look at Rachel's fidgeding hands. It took her a moment to realize what irritated her about them.
"Where's your ring?"
Rachel stretched out her fingers, before lifiting her hand slightly. "It's right-" then it dawned on her. "Oh you're talking about... you mean..."
Quinn's eyes darted from Rachel's left hand to her eyes. "Your wedding band."
Rachel's gaze switched between her engagment ring and Quinn's face several times before she answered. "There never was a wedding... or a wedding ceremony to be exact. We... I insisted on waiting for you and lost the spot."
Rachel felt awkward. This was almost normal conversation and that was nothing she had prepared herself for. Her preparation scenarios reached from an aggressive to an extremely vicious Quinn; but certaintly not this strange behaving version of her.
She considered telling Quinn about the new date they had set for after graduation, but decided against it. Talking to Quinn about anything wedding related felt more wrong than ever. It hardened the unrelenting feeling within her that the wedding was a mistake, because what better proof was there than the girl who had said so from the beginning, sitting in a wheelchair in front of her now.
"Sorry you lost your spot because of me," Quinn told her in a quiet voice.
Rachel did an actual double take. The question of whether Quinn was feeling alright stuck in her throat when Quinn – looking at her seemingly normally – suddenly slumped in the chair, her eyes rolling back in a scary looking way.
Jumping out of her chair Rachel jolted forward and caught Quinn's face in her hands. "Quinn? Quinn! Come on look at me! Talk to me!"
She reacted by instinct and called out a panicked "Help! We need help in here!" before even wasting a thought on looking for the nurse call button.
It couldn't have been more than ten seconds later, but it might as well have been an hour as she tried to get a reaction out of Quinn by softly slapping her cheek continuously and demanding for the blonde to look at her. She had never wished for that pair of hazel eyes to open and look at her more before.
The nurse that had entered the room had to use a little force to push her out of the way. The woman triggered an alarm with the push of a button and another two nurses shot into the room only moments later. While the first brought the chair back into a lying position a male nurse firmly put his hands on a protesting Rachel's shoulders and escorted her out of the room. The blinds of the small window in the door were closed shortly after, leaving Rachel with the image of the medical staff moving restlessly around Quinn's still body.
Rachel didn't realize that she was crying until the young woman who Rachel had ran into when she had arrived, pulled her into a comforting side hug. "She's going to be okay," she promised softly.
Rachel was led away from the door to the small staff room of the ICU where she slumped down on a couch, looking at the woman in front of her, full of panic.
"What was that?" she asked hugging her arms around herself. "She didn't have a cardiac arrest did she? Because I am capable of doing CPR, I just didn't think of it right then. Is it even possible to do it with all of her injuries? Oh god, she'll be okay, right?"
Julia – as her name tag read - put a steaming cup of tea in her hands and sat down next to her, running a calming hand over Rachel's back. "She's going to be okay. Her circulation just wasn't as strong as we had hoped. She collapsed. It looks more scarier and more dangerous than it is, I promise. And she is in good hands right now. They'll put her back in bed and stabilize her with some fluids. I bet she's already conscious again and her vitals are stabilizing right now."
Rachel tightened her fingers around the cup, wanting nothing more than to believe the brunette next to her, but she couldn't get the image of Quinn losing consciousness out of her mind.
The longest twenty minutes of Rachel's life passed until one of the nurses who had come to take care of Quinn before entered the staff room and the teenager jumped up anxiously.
"She's alright," she told Rachel with a soft smile. "A little weakened, but that will straighten out in a little bit."
"Can I see her?"
The nurse nodded. "Sure. Go ahead."
Not even caring for proper manners, Rachel rushed out of the common room without as much as a "Thank you" to either woman and ran back to Quinn's door. When Rachel returned to the room, Quinn had been bedded on her right side, so that her back was facing Rachel. She only took tentative steps into the room. She didn't know what to say. What did you say to a friend who had just collapsed right in front of your very eyes and when it was your fault she was in this position in the first place.
Rachel couldn't bring up the courage to face her. She just stood there, looking at Quinn's seemingly fragile form, recognizing with some relief that her torso moved with calm breaths.
"You know that moment when you wake up and just feel so relieved that everything was just a terrible nightmare?" Rachel looked up in surprise when Quinn started speaking first. Her voice was hoarse and very quiet. She had to pause as a chocked sob escaped her. "I keep waiting for it, but it never comes."
Rachel still didn't know what to answer, a few more seconds passed and Rachel felt her heart ache when she noticed Quinn was shaking heavily from crying silent tears.
"I'm laying awake all night wondering what I could've possibly done that was bad enough to deserve any of this." Quinn chuckled humorlessly through the tears. "I probably shouldn't ask you of all people this. You can probably name thirty reasons off the top of your head."
Quinn could feel her tears getting the pillow damp.
"When I woke up in the wreck of my car, before the paramedics arrived, I was so afraid of dying. I just kept on thinking that I didn't want to die. That there was so much that was still ahead of me. And I felt so relieved when I heard the sound of the ambulance approaching."
She didn't know why she was telling Rachel any of this. Maybe because shedding a few tears in front of her was nothing compared to the realization of how damaged her body really was. Quinn just felt she had reached her breaking point. She couldn't even handle sitting up for more than five minutes. It was disgusting how weak she was.
Quinn pressed her palm against her mouth hoping that it would quiet her sobs. The mattress dipped behind her and she didn't protest or do anything to stop it when she felt soft fingers start to to run through her hair soothingly, but all the comforting gesture did was make her cry even harder.
"Now, I find myself wishing sometimes that they wouldn't have made it on time," Quinn admitted, giving up with wiping the tears away and just balled her hands into tight fists until her nails pierced into the skin of her palm.
Rachel finger's were still running through Quinn's hair and there were tears in her eyes now too. "Please don't say that," she pleaded in a whisper.
Quinn was shaken by a new wave of tears. "It's not that I want to die," she explained earnestly. "I just don't want to live like this."
Rachel felt deeply ashamed. Her ambitions of making up for what happened seemed so petty right now. She would never be able to make up for robbing Quinn of a normal life. She couldn't even bring herself to speak out the apology that was on the tip of her tongue, because she felt that she would be mocking Quinn with it.
So she did the only thing she could think of as she kept on threading through short blond hair. Her voice was gentle and soothing as she started singing.
Whoever made the claim that words could ease the pain
Never watched your tears fill up an ocean
Never saw your face, the moment you found out
That you'd have to live without, until heaven
The song wasn't entirely suitable for the situation. It was about the lost of a loved one. Rachel had discovered it during her attempt to create a playlist of comforting songs for the blonde. Ironically enough, a complete list with about thirty songs was tucked away in Rachel's handbag only a few feet away, but this was the only one she could come up off the top of her head. And it did sort of fit. Quinn might not have lost a person, but she had still suffered a great loss.
Is there somethin' I can do other than being here for you to ease the pain
If I can keep you from fallin', fallin' down'
I'm sorry to sound selfish but I feel so helpless
Is it okay if I stay here with you and cry for awhile
The lyrics spoke her true mind, because she was at loss for comforting words or actions. All she could offer Quinn was her company and comfort. Her hand came to rest on Quinn's shoulder and a moment later Quinn's clutched it tightly with her own. Fresh tears cascaded down both girls cheeks and Rachel continued with the song.
Whoever made the claim that words could ease the pain
Never watched you fall apart, never put you back together
When you were broken down, into a million pieces
Scattered on the ground
Letting go and just crying her heart out felt better than Quinn could even begin to describe. It was like all of the weight that had rested on her slowly began to lift and she allowed herself to mourn for everything she had lost for the first time. That it was Rachel to witness this breakdown was upsetting and familiar at the same time. Cause it had always been Rachel happening to be around in these moments of her life.
Is there somethin' I can do other than being here for you to ease the pain
If I can keep you from fallin', fallin' down'
I'm sorry to sound selfish but I feel so helpless
Is it okay if I stay here with you and cry for awhile to help you ease the pain."
Her voice was quiet as she continued with the song and until the the last two lines when her thumb was caressing the back of Quinn's hand.
Is there somethin' I can do
What can I say, what can I do?"
They sat there in silence, still connected by their hands. Rachel still felt like she couldn't come up with anything appropriate to say. A few minutes passed when felt Quinn's fingers squeeze her hand firmly to get her attention.
Quinn turned her head as good as she could and looked at Rachel with glassy eyes and for the first time since the accident actually looked as lost and helpless as she really was. Like she had let gone of putting on a strong front for the first time and allowed herself to be weak and emotional over what had happened to her.
Quinn's voice was barely audible, but Rachel heard the words nonetheless.
"Thank you."
Music:
No Good Deed – Wicked
Is There Something I Can Do – Five Star Iris
Thank you guys for reading! Let me know what you think about it.