AN: Okay, a confession: I wrote this chapter way before I wrote the last two ones. Let's just say your questions? Most will be answered in this update.
Quinn comes home from work exhausted and wanting nothing more than to collapse in front of the TV and drown her sorrows in some Grey's Anatomy. After a few months of living back home, she can count on certain routines and schedules. For instance, right now she expects to find her mother in the kitchen preparing dinner for herself, her daughter and now, an unexpected house guest. She makes her way to the kitchen and does indeed find Judy Fabray chopping vegetables for a salad. What she doesn't expect is the look her mother shoots at her, accompanied by a tilt of her head towards the backyard. It takes her a while to see what her mother meant.
Rachel is sitting on one of the loungers beside the pool. She has her knees drawn up to her chest, blue heels long discarded on the ground, and her gaze blank. Karl is on the small glass table beside it, meowing loudly in search of a little attention. Once in a while, a hand drops absently to run through the cat's fur but mostly, the woman outside is still and silent.
Quinn has been thinking about everything she's learned from last night - the revelation that Puck and Rachel are married being on the forefront of her mind. She felt – no, she knew – that there was more to the story. So much more. And she wonders once again how much things have changed.
She watches Rachel for a minute from the kitchen window before she joins her. Rachel doesn't say anything when she drops herself on the other lounger. Quinn notices her messy, unbound hair and the pale crescents on her palms. She knows something monumental has just happened but she doesn't say a word; just sits there beside the brunette as she stares at the orangey tint of the sky. They are silent so long, she almost jumps when she hears Rachel's voice.
"This wasn't how imagined my life would turn out, you know?" she starts, her voice strong and controlled. "I didn't even plan on dating any more high school boys, not after the colossal failure that was Finn and me. And getting married at 18 was definitely not part of my five year plan. But then Noah happened and we ended up dating in senior year and somehow…I end up falling for this crazy delinquent of a boy."
"You do realize you just called the boy who once dubbed you 'Berry Crazy', crazy," Quinn observes. "Strangely poetic, if you think about it."
Rachel is silent a beat before she continues. "I must've been crazy. Happy, but crazy. We had so many plans, too. Noah was going to OSU, I was offered a scholarship at the Tisch School at NYU and we were going to make it work long-distance somehow. Then after graduation, he would move to New York and we'd be together and things would just happen for us. I was all caught up in this little fairytale I had in my head. There was supposed to be a plan."
A deep breath."Then I found out I was pregnant."
Quinn had expected something like this but she keeps quiet as the other girl rambles on. "Noah…he'd wanted a family so bad since he was 8. I realized then I wanted it too, no matter that the order of things was a little screwed up, and I loved him so much…so I turned down the scholarship and I stayed. He proposed and then he ended up not going to college either because he said his family was more important and…" She exhales and visibly tries to compose herself.
"My dads didn't understand. Hell, they didn't want to understand. They were mad, and then they were disappointed. They thought I was throwing all my dreams away for a boy. At one point, they even had my mom come and try to talk some sense into me but I didn't care. I was in love, we were having a baby…I couldn't care less about anything else."
Quinn doesn't notice Karl curling up on her lap just as Rachel doesn't pay attention to the nervous twisting of her fingers in her sweater. "We got married that summer. Just a small ceremony with a rabbi, Aviva, Becca, Finn, Kurt, Mr. Schue and my dad." Her voice breaks minutely. "Daddy refused to come at all."
"So basically, Finn and Kurt were the only ones who knew?" Quinn interrupts.
"Pretty much. Finn knew because he was the best man and Kurt knew because…he's Kurt. You were long gone. Mike, Matt, San and Brit had all left on their pre-college road trip. Mercedes was already in Illinois and Tina and Artie were all the way in California. It's not like we wanted to advertise it either. We moved to Cincinnati soon after so Noah could get a better paying job with this guy that my dad knew."
A smile blooms momentarily on her pale face. "She was born on Valentine's Day. Noah was pissed when I started going into labor on February 13, said he didn't want out baby to come out unlucky." There is an involuntary giggle at Puck's expense. "He definitely got his wish because I went through 16 hours of labor and she ended up arriving on the 14th. She comes out this 6 lbs, 2 oz hellion, squalling like a true Berry-Puckerman."
Rachel reaches into her pocket and pulls out a worn-out 3x5 picture that Quinn stares at in surprise. Too many times had it been folded, bent or damaged but one could still clearly see a little girl with dark chestnut curls, big hazel eyes and a little pout. "We named her Caroline Anne." She strokes the smiling face in the photograph. "Noah, of course, insisted on calling her Cupid or Valentina but I said until he pushed a baby out of his penis after 16 hours of torture, he'd have to keep his stupid names to himself."
"She's gorgeous." Quinn swallows down thoughts of another little girl, blue-eyed, beautiful and lost out there in the world. Bumping her shoulder with Rachel's, she teases lightly. "Bet she was a brat, considering her who her parents are."
Rachel lets out an amused laugh. "Hardly. She was like a sweet little ball of sunshine - never threw a tantrum, never fussed. Everyone just fell in love with her at first sight. My dads…well, they practically didn't talk to us before she was born but once she was there, it's like none of that even happened. And you know how Puck's mom feels about Jewish grandbabies…"
She tucks the photo away carefully and continues. "So after that, everything seemed to get better. We had enough money to move into a house instead of the cramped, god-awful apartment we had started in. Noah was still working as a mechanic but he also played in this band that did the club-wedding-bar mitzvah circuit. Then pretty soon Caroline was turning 2 and I had started working part-time as a vocal coach and we started making plans again..." she trails off.
Quinn hesitates. "What happened, Rachel?"
Rachel is silent so long that Quinn is afraid that she wouldn't answer the question at all. After several false starts, she starts talking. She manages to keep any emotion from seeping into her voice but it cracks anyway, as she flashes back to the day when it all fell apart. A distant part of her brain wonders if it mirrors her heart.
OOO
It has started drizzling by the time she comes home from her shift at Olive Garden. The house is surprisingly silent; no TV blaring out the latest sports news, no Noah practicing riffs, no toddler jumping around joyfully at her coming home. She makes her way to their bedroom and is treated to the sight of her husband sprawled on their bed, a storybook lying open on his chest and a small bundle of purple romper-clad child smooshed into his side. His tan arm holds their daughter close and when Caroline starts making soft little snorting noises when thunder rolls outside, his other hand automatically reaches up to rub soothing circles on her back until she stops, without either of them ever waking up in the process.
Rachel smiles at the picture they make, her big, strong husband cradling his precious bundle, and once again she marvels at how lucky she's been. There were times when she still thought about what might have been but one look at Caroline and the questions would go away. She was undoubtedly the best thing to ever happen to the either of them.
She steps over to the side of the bed and maneuvers her out of her daddy's arms. Rachel loved having her daughter sleep with them sometimes but she didn't want any bad habits forming either. Besides, tonight she just wanted to be with her husband. Humming under her breath, she gently carries her daughter to her pink and purple room.
"Mama?" a small voice whispers.
"Shh…go back to sleep, babygirl."
She whimpers when Rachel lays her down in her crib and her little hands clutch in the air.
"Do you want mama to sing you a lullaby?" she asks as she strokes the curls off Caroline's forehead.
Her daughter nods drowsily. "Yes pwease."
Rachel's classically trained voice is soft as she launches into Caroline's favorite lullaby, "Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high..." She especially loves hearing it with her daddy's voice and guitar joining in but tonight, it is the dulcet tones of her mother that puts her back to sleep. "Good night, sweetheart. Mama loves you."
She leaves Caroline sleeping soundly and clutching her favorite toy, a stuffed bunny appropriately named Mr. Bunny. She returns to the bedroom, idling singing some of the verses under her breath while taking off her clothes. She is down to her bra and her skirt when a voice out of the darkness says, "Keep going, Mrs. Puckerman."
She whirls around, hand on her rapidly beating heart, and sees her husband grinning lewdly at her. "Damnit, Noah! I thought you were sleeping."
He stretches on the bed and she can hear his joints pop. "Nah. Couldn't sleep." He wags his eyebrows. "Come over here and fuck me until I pass out from exhaustion?"
She laughs and tosses her shirt at him. "Pervert."
He ducks and smirks. "Damn, baby, that wasn't even the kinky part."
She turns around to continue undressing but is foiled when he pulls her on top of him and kisses her. The kissing turns heated and soon his hand is under her skirt and he is sucking on his particular spot on her neck. Her bra is just about to go join the rest of the pile when he suddenly stops.
"What time is it?"
She whines in protest. "I don't know." She attempts to push him down to where she wants him to go but he cranes his head to look at the bright numbers on the alarm clock.
He bolts upright so fast, she does a faceplant on the bed. "Shit. Baby, I'mma need you to hold that thought."
To say she's blindsided is an understatement. "Um, I'm sorry…what?"
Puck has gotten up and is now running around, pulling out jeans and socks from drawers. "The guys and I have a gig at the Blind Lemon. Last minute and everything so I'm gonna be home really late. So, um…raincheck?" he shoots her a pleading look.
"Do you really have to go?" she practically whines. She knows he'll be making fun of her later but right now, she just wants her husband.
He hesitates a second. "Damn. I really do, baby."
She couldn't believe it. "Fine. I hope the memory of leaving your sexually-frustrated wife home alone will be sufficient punishment for you," she gripes.
He watches her lips as they pout and her pink tongue darts out to wet them quickly, and he groans before heading in for a (cold) shower. "You have no idea."
Some time later, while he's getting ready for his gig (and after a quick shower that she complained wasn't even a real one, it was so fast), he notices the expression on her face as she watches him in the mirror. "Something wrong, B?"
She shakes her head but he knows what the furrow on her brow means. At his raised eyebrow, she gives in. "It's nothing. I was just thinking...I mean, you can be so much more than just another member of a cover band, Noah. You're a gifted musician and an amazing songwriter. As your wife, I may not be objective but as a fellow artist… you're good. You're very, very good." She sighs. "I just think your talent is wasted here."
"Some people could say the same thing about you, you know."
"Noah! That's—"
"True and you know it. You think I don't know that you're throwing yourself away teaching tone-deaf rich kids?" He scrubs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, I get it, okay? And it's not like what you're saying isn't true either. But this isn't going to be forever."
"I know, I know."
"Do you? Because sometimes I think you forget that." He sits beside her on their bed and cups her face gently. "I know I don't have to do this but tonight is important. It's gonna be all-Puckerman night. No lame-ass covers, just me and my kick-ass songs. It's the Blind Lemon – there's always some agent watching, right? This could be the start for us, baby."
"Noah..." Her eyes are shining and he can't help but kiss her.
"We're gonna get out of here, B. You, me and the squirt," he murmurs into her lips.
"I believe you." She smiles and kisses him one more time. Shouldering his guitar case, he waves goodbye and with a hasty "Love you!", is out the door and into the rain.
OOO
She putters around after he leaves, fixing herself a light dinner and putting into rights anything that her husband and child had touched. The house is tiny, an old single storey sheltered by an aging elm tree whose branches could be heard banging against the windows. It is tiny and old and far too much money to maintain but it is home. So she puts away toys, straightens up the bedroom and cleans the bathroom after the hurricane that is Caroline at bath time. By the time she goes to bed, the rain has died down and it doesn't take long before she falls into a deep, exhausted slumber.
A fact about Rachel very few people knew: not many things (Ain't Nothing' Gonna Break My Stride, Noah's voice, Caroline's cry) could wake her up from her heavy sleep. Tonight, she doesn't rouse because of the creaking of the wood against the gusting wind. She doesn't stir at the clap of thunder in the distance. She doesn't wake at the strike of lightning.
What eventually wakes her is the sound of the fire alarm and the distant scream of sirens. She remembers thinking that what happened next was just a dream.
She remembers coming to coughing, her eyes tearing.
She remembers the smoke curling under the door and the haze in the air.
She remembers stumbling outside into the hallway, the extreme heat clouding her senses, and trying to get to her daughter.
She remembers the heat of her door burning into her palm as she tries to wrench it open .
She remembers getting in and marveling at how quiet the room was, how peaceful Caroline looked in her crib, like she was just sleeping.
She remembers grabbing her baby and attempting to stay conscious in the heat. And then blackness and she remembers no more.
She wakes on a stretcher, her arms empty of child. The doors of the ambulance frame the sight of their home in flames. It is still dark and the bright tongues of fire are silhouetted against the night sky.
Something touches her shoulder and she turns bleary eyes to a paramedic. The man says something and it takes her brain a moment to process it.
Her hands.
She looks down at them; scarred and burnt from the doorknob of Caroline's room. Sluggishly, she makes out that he wants to put an oxygen mask over her face. Her chest aches and her throat is raw but she doesn't care about anything except finding out where her daughter is. She tries to get up but the man is restraining her. She wants to argue, to scream, where is Caroline, she needs her husband, what is going on, but for the first time in her life, her voice fails her. She can do nothing but croak out meaningless syllables and glare at this man who is just trying to help her.
That's when she notices the frenetic activity of the paramedics in the other ambulance.
A truck careens into the lawn and barely misses the mailbox before it disgorges her husband, his eyes wide and panic-stricken. The next moment, he is shouting and gesturing and pointing before he sees her. He pushes through the crowd, manhandling quite a few people, and makes his way towards the ambulance. Soon, he has an arm around her, all but crushing her, and crying his relief into her smoky hair. Numbly, she figures it must be after midnight if his gig is done. Noah is asking all sorts of questions and fussing over her but he stops when another paramedic makes his way towards them The man is talking, he's saying something important she knows. She can feel time slow down and she is vaguely aware of Noah crumpling to the ground, back hitting the side of the ambulance hard. Something or someone is restraining her, the paramedic maybe. He is still talking but she doesn't pay him any mind.
She is still trying to get a glimpse, a sign, anything, of what is happening to her daughter.
When she at last gets a look, she sees nothing but white.
Nothing but a pristine white sheet covering something small.
She can't hear anything but a hopeless, agonized screaming in the distance, like the cry of a dying animal as its heart is being ripped out. It takes a while before she realizes that it is coming out of her own mouth.
OOO
She is staring into the distance, going back to that night when she watched her life burn before her eyes. Her throat is parched and her voice is detached. "I was admitted for a few days because of smoke inhalation. I couldn't understand how I survived but she didn't. The doctor said something about how children were more susceptible to inhalational injuries and maybe if she had been gotten to in time…and all I could think was that I was too late."
She faces Quinn, eyes dry and anguished. "I killed my baby girl."
Quinn has been biting back her tears the whole time Rachel was talking but at the misery she sees in her eyes, she begins to cry. Still, Rachel is the one comforting her, her own face calm and composed as she pats her back gently. Quinn feels a little embarrassed that she is the one breaking down when it should be the other way around. Then she hears a choked off whimper.
She raises her head and watches as Rachel's face and entire being crumble. Her body shakes violently and she collapses against Quinn in sobs, the helpless and lonely sobs of a woman who had stored her guilt and grief inside for years and was only now finally letting it go.
The sight of this once-strong and composed woman now with her shoulders shaking and her heart shattering all over again pierces Quinn. This is what broke Rachel Berry. Her own heart is breaking and for the first time in a long time, she feels so utterly useless.
So Quinn does the only thing she can do – she wraps her arms around her friend and holds on for dear life.
AN: ...well, I'm guessing I'll be hearing all about what you thought about this in the reviews.
And to clarify, Rachel and Puck got married the summer after graduation. They had Caroline around 8 months later; she dies a little after her 2nd birthday. 4 to 6 months after she dies, Rachel leaves for New York. She's been in NY for 2 years. So Rachel and Puck have been married for nearly 5 years. Providing that they both graduated at the age of 18, it makes them both 22-23 years old. The other gleeks have graduated by this time. Most of the dates are approximated and I'm not going to be counting each and every day, so if someone actually goes through the trouble of proving my calculations wrong, give me the info and I'll be happy to correct them. Otherwise, any inexact dates will be attributed to artistic license :)