Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any other materials I will use for this fic. Don't sue, okay? Also, I own all mistakes from here on.
A/N 1: I told you the update will come soon. Thank you for everyone who reviewed, I just needed to know that people are still interested. *insert Santana crying gif* And Oh. My. God. The angst, people, the angst. It's killing me.
A/N 2: Oh, and in case you missed it. ANGST. So much ANGST. You've been warned. Seriously, I cried while writing this chapter. God, THE ANGST.
"You're like a song that I heard when I was a little kid but forgot I knew until I heard it again." — Maggie Stiefvater
Chapter 4
Rachel looked at her reflection in the dressing room's mirror. Her eyes were still suspiciously red. Her nose was definitely red. And she could see her lips starting to quiver once more.
If thoughts could be imprinted on a person's reflection, hers would say one word.
One name.
Quinn.
Always Quinn.
Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long
Twelve years. After all those years wondering where Quinn was, she finally lays her eyes on her blonde angel. There was no way to describe the emotions she felt when their eyes met at the bar. But maybe one way to explain it was to say that she felt like she was back in the tree house. At their tree house where they had no care in the world, where it was only her and Quinn.
But as soon as she saw Quinn's smirk, as soon as they spoke, everything crumbled. At first, she refused to believe that her Quinn was able to forget her. She tried to look for an explanation. Really, she was trying to save her heart. But in the end, when everything is staring at you in the face, how could you even start to deny?
But even after being broken, she still wishes Quinn was with her right now.
Rachel let out a humourless laugh. She looked at herself. Even after all that's happened it's still Quinn that occupies her mind.
"You're an idiot, Rachel Berry." She says with a sneer to her own reflection.
Now she understands what it feels like to drown in pain. It seemed so dramatic. It seemed so impossible to feel the ache she's feeling. But it's there. Digging into her soul, marking a hole in her heart.
No matter what I say or do
I still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone
She still feels Quinn's soft skin and the way their bodies melted with so much familiarity. On the surface, if someone could have seen them, they looked like lovers. But inside, they were just doomed. But regardless, she closes her eyes, trying to remember, to savor her last moment with Quinn.
It was masochistic. But it was so much better than not feeling anything.
And Rachel suddenly wishes that she did not tear the calling card.
It was pathetic. It was desperate. To leave her calling card, just for the empty hope that Quinn might call. For what? Maybe for another fuck. Could she endure that? Maybe she could.
Rachel stares hard at her own eyes. Her brown orbs were swirling with wetness. No, her makeup is going to run down.
"Fuck you, Quinn."
You hold me without touch
You keep me without chains
Quinn stood away from the bed where she and Rachel lay just hours ago. When she was sure that her legs wouldn't give out, she walked around the room.
Her mind was alert for just one thing. Rachel's calling card. Even if takes her forever, she would try to talk to Rachel. She would seek for her last second chance. If Rachel refuses, she would ask for some more. And if in the end, Rachel still refuses, she would try one more time.
And maybe if all else fails, if her transgressions were really too much to forgive, she would still try to call Rachel. She would try even just to tell her that she's sorry. To hear Rachel's voice one last time.
To say 'I love you' one last time.
I never wanted anything so much
Than to drown in your own love and not feel your rain
When she couldn't find the card in her wallet, Quinn started to walk around the room trying to look for Rachel's card. She was starting to berate herself for not remembering where it is. But she rounds up the corner of the room, towards the small couch across the bed. And she sees it. Them.
Hundreds of pieces of paper.
She didn't have to go near the pile to know that it's gold colored. Like the color of the sun. But she approaches it anyway.
The realization hit her and pain settled in her chest. She doubled over to crouch over the unrecognizable pieces of paper. Rachel tore them. She never wants to see Quinn again.
Quinn let out an anguished cry because at that moment, she realized just how much pain she's caused Rachel. Does Rachel hate her? Maybe. She has every right to. But Quinn remembers her promise to herself. She will try. Just one more try. Maybe they can make it.
Maybe.
Quinn looked around the empty and now too-large room. And she wishes that there's still a tiny pinch of hope left. She touches the pieces of paper scattered around just beside her.
She whispers. And the air around her mourns because of how broken her voice sounds.
"Rachel, please don't hate me. One more chance. Please."
Rachel broke down. She tries so much not to. She tries to hate Quinn. To loathe her. To wish her pain the same way she inflicted Rachel with.
But she can't.
She can never hate Quinn. Even after everything, she still hopes that she'll see Quinn once more. To hold her once more. Maybe she will take it. Even if Quinn doesn't remember.
God, she'll do anything to make Quinn love her again.
It was pitiful. But when people love, when their hearts rule their souls as if there's nothing else that ever mattered, what is there left to do but to wish? How can you even start fighting something that has ruled your whole being?
Set me free, leave me be
I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity
A tiny part of her is protesting. It's telling her that she doesn't deserve this. But almost all of her is crying for Quinn.
Just Quinn. Anything. She'll take anything she could.
And just like that, she breaks down. Goddamned makeup be damned.
If anyone passed by her now, they would say that she's being overly dramatic. With the way her arms are curled over her knees. With the way she can't even voice out her sobs, so much that they turn into quiet agony. With the way she slides from the chair she's sitting on to the floor.
It was heart-breaking to say the least.
But she was crushed. And yet she was hopeful for Quinn.
And really, there was nothing else she could do.
"Quinn."
Quinn hugged her knees. She didn't care that she was slowly rocking herself because she just wants so much for Rachel to not hate her.
She curses her father. She curses fate. She curses herself.
Why did they always have to come between her and happiness?
It wasn't until now that she manages to ask herself why after all the years of physical and emotional abuse is she still here.
And it hits her.
The reason why there was still a sliver of the old Quinn left.
The reason why she never really succumbed to her father's abuse.
The reason why she didn't just take her life.
The reason why she fought. Why she got out of Lima.
The reason why she kept the old poem in her wallet beside the old locket.
Rachel.
All along it was because of Rachel. Everything that kept her above the surface was for Rachel. Even if Quinn never consciously started looking for her, it was already like her own body was acting towards the sole purpose of finding Rachel.
Why else would Quinn have chosen New York?
Because even if the thought didn't pass her consciously, deep inside she knows that Rachel will be there. New York. The city of dreams.
Here I am and I stand so tall
I'm just the way I'm supposed to be
But you're on to me and all over me
And she breaks into tears once more. Because after twelve years, everything in her life makes sense again. But once more, she's on the verge of losing it.
She lives. She looks forward to the future. She fights.
She loves.
Because of Rachel. Only ever her Rachel.
Rachel's sobs wracked her whole body. And shit, her makeup will soon start running down if she doesn't stop. So she forces the tears to stop flowing. She picks herself up, literally and figuratively. Finally, she locks onto her own reflection at the mirror in front of her.
The damage was not yet beyond repair.
For the makeup or for her? Both, she thinks.
The makeup hadn't completely run down. It was nothing a few tissues and retouch couldn't fix. She starts to re-apply some of the makeup that was streaked with now-drying tears.
As she looks into her reflection, holding the brush and trying to salvage the damage, she tries to smile. Maybe it was not yet too late.
And she thinks of her childhood. With Quinn, of course. Always.
Happy memories.
Lima, Ohio. Twelve yr. old Rachel's summer.
"Ouch!" hisses a petulant Rachel Berry.
Across her, a fifteen yr. old Quinn Fabray only chuckles and shakes her head. The blonde teenager proceeds to tenderly apply antiseptic at the skinned knee of the stubborn girl.
"Quiiinnn. It hurts!" Rachel whines once more.
"What did you expect, Rae?" Quinn says, momentarily stopping to look at the girl in front of her. "You knew that you can't ride a skateboard. But you just had to be so stubborn, didn't you?"
Rachel just pouts and crosses her arms while sticking her tongue out to the older girl. Of course she had to prove to those kids that she can skateboard. No one tells Rachel Berry that there was something she couldn't do and then get away with it. But, well, this time it backfired.
Rachel harrumphed.
"When I get to Broadway, I will tell my security not to let you in my dressing room. Mean person."
The blonde she considers her best friend just smirks and continued cleaning the dirt off the wound. Really, it was only a scratch. Rachel was sure Quinn wanted to say something along those lines. But she was Rachel Berry. Nobody ever tells her that she's overreacting.
Quinn reached for the gauze to cover up the wound while Rachel looks at her with a smile now gracing her lips.
"There. All patched up, my stubborn little star."
Rachel beamed at Quinn and leaned over to place a quick kiss on the blonde's cheek.
"Thank you, Quinnie." Rachel says, almost shyly. In fact she was sure that her face was beet red.
Quinn just smiles and looks at her with soft eyes.
You loved me 'cause I'm fragile
When I thought that I was strong
Rachel finished retouching her makeup. And she smiles at her own reflection, still basking with the memory. It was the time after Quinn cleaned her skinned knee that she knew she was crushing on the blonde.
The smile in front of her was small, but she knows it's genuine.
And she feels a tinge hope light inside her. It was a trivial thing to think, but maybe there was still something left for Quinn and her.
Happy memories.
A knock at the dressing room door pulled her out from her own little world.
"Rachel, curtain opens in 10 minutes."
Rachel just nods. She smiles once more. Happy memories.
Show time.
Quinn buries her head in her arms. How was she supposed to find Rachel now? The calling card was her only way to contact Rachel. God, how is she going to find her?
She wanted to hurl the meagre contents of her stomach at the thought of not being able to find Rachel again. She couldn't imagine how she could go back to the way she's been living for the last twelve years after she finds out that the only thing separating her from her happiness are the streets of New York.
And Rachel is her happiness. She has been the only thing that makes sense for as long as she could remember. And Quinn remembers. Every detail etched meticulously in her brain.
She remembers discovering love for the first time.
But you touch me for a little while
And all my fragile strength is gone
Lima, Ohio. Fifteen yr. old Quinn's summer.
Rachel pouted across her, sticking her tongue out occasionally.
"When I get to Broadway, I will tell my security not to let you in my dressing room. Mean person." Rachel tells her with a little bit of whine in her voice.
Pfft. As if. Rachel wouldn't do that. And if she ever had the guts to, Quinn will just hang around the balcony like a creepy stalker.
Quinn continued to gingerly touch the skinned knee. She smirks. She wonders what Rachel would say if Quinn was to tell her that it's only a scratch. Probably a thousand word rant. The blonde discreetly looks at the brunette in front of her. For the love of all that is holy, she's twelve, but Quinn can't deny anymore that her best friend is really cute. And she's been crushing on this babbling brunette for some time now. Why not, though? She makes Quinn smile like nobody could.
Quinn smoothed the edges of the gauze after covering the skinned knee.
"There. All patched up, my stubborn little star."
Little star. She sighs, she's been used to calling Rachel that. Her little brunette, her little star. Her—
And then she feels Rachel's lips against her cheek. She was stunned. And she closes her eyes momentarily because she could still feel the warmth of Rachel's lips setting her body on fire.
"Thank you, Quinnie." Rachel says and looks at her with a shy smile.
And it was like seeing the brunette for the first time again. And the kiss was a confirmation of sorts to Quinn.
Oh my God. She's in love with her best friend.
She's in love with Rachel Berry.
Quinn's chuckles echo inside the empty room. That memory always overwhelms her. Until now, it rendered her completely speechless in awe of how one kiss could make everything fall into place. She didn't believe in fairy tales then, but that moment when Rachel Berry kissed her with a shy smile, she knows that her story have just begun.
The blonde brushed her hair with her hands. Now, if only she knows where to start finding Rachel.
Set me free, leave me be
I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity
Wait.
"When I get to Broadway, I will tell my security not to let you in my dressing room. Mean person."
God. Rachel's play. She remembers that. Thank Rachel's babbling cast mates last night. There couldn't be that many off-Broadway shows playing Evita in the area.
And Quinn instantly throws on her clothes. She didn't think she ever dressed so fast. With that, she's finally running off, grabbing her phone.
She made a few calls to find out off-Broadway show schedules.
Finally, she gets a cab just after getting the address of the only theatre in the area that shows Evita.
"13th Street. Step on it."
As the cab saunters into the streets of New York with Quinn clutching Rachel's locket, a smile graces Quinn's lips.
Finally.
It's time to find Rachel.
The applause was deafening. As the crowds continued to cheer in standing ovation, Rachel forgot about her heartache if only for a moment.
If only Quinn was here.
She tried to drown herself in the applause and the cheers. She closed her eyes, trying to picture Quinn on the front aisle. Her heart feels suffocated. If only imaginations can be real.
Here I am and I stand so tall
I'm just the way I'm supposed to be
But you're on to me and all over me
The curtain slowly goes down. And Rachel doesn't know why, but it felt like it signified her last chance with Quinn. Before anybody could see the tears running down her cheeks, she runs towards her own dressing room leaving quizzical looking cast mates. It was like the day of the bipolar Rachel.
As soon as she reached her dressing room, she collapsed on the floor to cry again.
God, when will the crying stop?
There was a small knock, but Rachel was too focused on her own sadness to notice. Santana's head peeked from the door. The Latina was the last person she expected to check on her.
They regarded each other with questioning glances. And then Santana broke the silence.
"Quinn wasn't just a friend, was she?"
Rachel sat on the floor with tears streaming down her face. She looked up to her usually bitchy cast mate open mouthed.
Rachel started to speak.
"How—"
Santana raised an eyebrow as she interrupted Rachel.
"Please. With the looks you were giving each other yesterday, it was more obvious than Finn's puffy nipples."
Rachel chuckled at the not so subtle jibe towards her date last night.
"And then there was the whole two teenage girl thing. Love, promise and all the lalala shit you were babbling about yesterday."
Rachel just stared at her cast mate.
"Please. Midget, you don't give me enough credit."
Rachel's eyes welled up upon remembering last night. This is so fucked up. She sobbed. Normally, she would have tried to hide her tears. She is Rachel Berry, after all. She shows no weakness.
But this time, maybe crying was warranted. Maybe it was time the agony escaped along with her withering hope.
So she just sat there, heart-wrenching cries sounding across the whole room. Vaguely, she felt Santana's strong arms encircling her from the side.
"Shhh." Santana whispered.
And Rachel cried some more.
Quinn was tapping her fingers on anything she could find. It feels like the drive is taking forever. She just wants to see Rachel. She wants to hold her. To tell her how sorry she is. To explain.
To tell Rachel she loves her. Even after all those years.
The cabbie's stereo was in the middle of playing a familiar song.
I live here on my knees
As I try to make you see
That you're everything I think I need
Here on the ground
How will she even start when she sees Rachel?
How will Quinn tell her that just like the song, Rachel is literally everything she needs? It sounds so cliché. But clichés are our honest truths. No matter how many times repeated between two people.
And God, how she loves Rachel Berry.
"Hey, how long 'til we get there?" Quinn finally asks the driver.
"Not long, Miss."
Quinn closes her eyes once more. In a few moments she'll see Rachel again. She cannot wait. She just wants her little brunette. It's becoming repetitive now. But it is what her heart shouts. It is what her soul yearns for.
Rachel.
'Not long' has never seemed so long.
"I love her, San. I love her so much." Rachel sobs into her cast mate's shoulder.
"I know."
Santana looks at Rachel. The diva's eyes were full of tears. Her face is red from all the crying and wailing. In anyone's opinion, it is the look of someone so deep in agony.
But Santana sees something else. She sees the eyes of someone holding on to hope of all hopes.
She sees a Rachel Berry drowning in love and sadness. And the grip of the invisible hand on her heart chokes her as she looks at her friend. She has never seen Rachel like this.
And all she wants is to ease her friend's pain.
"Rachel, c'mon. Let's get out of here. We can talk at the coffee shop across the street."
Rachel stays silent. But she's thankful because someone is there. Even if it's not Quinn. She rose to her feet and let Santana guide her towards the door.
But you're neither friend nor foe
Though I can't seem to let you go
Quinn is being assaulted by a plethora of fears. She is almost afraid that her heart would suddenly burst out of her chest with how fast it is beating.
What if she ends up in the wrong place?
What if it's already too late? What if Rachel hates her now?
What if she never finds her happiness again?
The one thing that I still know
Is that you're keeping me down
Quinn shook her head to keep the thoughts away.
She can feel it. And she just knows that she will meet Rachel again for the second time in the last twelve years. And she will make sure to get it right this time.
How she knows this? She has no idea.
But she just knows it.
Maybe because in the middle of all the clusterfuck that her life has become, her heart, her soul was really intertwined with Rachel's. Maybe it really is destiny.
At that moment, Quinn Fabray has never put so much faith on happily ever after.
She was pulled out of everything when she realized something.
The taxi is stopping.
Santana ushered Rachel from out the building. The smaller brunette is still holding on to her for dear life.
And Santana sees a speeding cab stop on the other side of the street.
A blonde head started to emerge from the passenger's side. The Latina's eyes widened.
Is that—?
Holy. Shit.
Two figures emerged from the building.
And it was all Quinn needed to see. She found Rachel again. It's her last second chance.
She tosses a fifty at the cabbie's direction before it completely pulled up. She was out the door in a split second, not even bothering to close it. Sara Bareilles' voice following her.
You're keeping me down
"Rachel."
"Rachel. Rachel. Rachel."
Rachel hears Santana's quivering voice full of excitement. She looked up at her cast mate who was the least likely she has expected to comfort her in this moment.
Santana was wide eyed.
"Quinn." The Latina blurted out.
Rachel's brows furrowed. She doesn't comprehend. Why would Santana say Quinn's name?
And then she feels her face being cupped by Santana's strong hands.
Rachel's eyes widened. Is Santana going to kiss her? Oh, no, no, no.
But then she feels her face being turned towards the street in front of them.
And then Rachel heard her.
"Rachel!"
Tears streaked down Quinn's beautiful face in the middle of New York's chilly evening. Everything was a blur. She could see only Rachel.
You're on to me, on to me and all over
Rachel is staring at her. And Quinn felt a surge of emotions hit her when those beautiful brown orbs connected with her hazel ones.
"Rachel!" She shouts again.
She started to run. So that she could scoop Rachel in her arms. Spin her around. Kiss her.
Only Rachel.
Rachel is still staring at her. She sees her little star's expression turn from surprise to longing.
Quinn clutches the locket in her palms.
Rachel started crying, looking for support in Santana's arms.
Quinn starts to smile. She hears the faint music coming from the cabbie that was yet to speed away.
Something always brings me back to you
She's finally back at Rachel's presence. Her happiness. Her little brunette. Her little star.
Her love.
She watches Rachel's face turn from longing to happiness—unbelievable happiness. And then her face morphed to horror. Just the same time Santana's did.
"Quinn! No!"
Quinn stared, confused for a second. And then white light blinded her from the right. She hears the impact rather than feel it. A sickening crunch of body hitting cement.
"Quinn!"
Quinn stared upwards. When did she face the sky?
Rachel's face peered over her, glorious chestnut hair cascading on her shoulders.
"Rachel…" She said weakly, touching the brunette's face.
Rachel can hear a commotion. Somebody calling 911. People shouting. Cars screeching. Santana screaming. Footsteps approaching.
But she sees only Quinn.
"Rae, I love you."
Rachel closed her eyes and willed herself not to faint. Quinn loves her. Quinn still loves her. God, why is this always their fate? Why is destiny so cruel to them?
Rachel eased her lover's head. She could feel the stickiness of the blood in her hand. Quinn's blood. But it didn't matter at that moment.
"Shhh, Quinn, baby, don't talk."
Quinn smiled, dazed.
"Rae, I found you."
It never takes too long
It felt like déjà vu. It felt like the car accident twelve years ago. Quinn is afraid that Rachel's not really in front of her. But she feels a hand smaller than her own grip hers.
Two hands gripping one locket.
And she just knows that this time it's real.
Rachel is here. She found Rachel.
This is not the Lima skyline. She's in New York.
With Rachel. Chasing happiness.
Her little star is glowing. A perfect combination with the mesmerizing New York sky. Beautiful. Rachel is beautiful. Always beautiful.
Always her Rachel.
Her vision started to dim. And she fights again to keep her eyes open. She's tethering to unconsciousness.
"Quinn!"
Her vision is becoming dark and blurred. She just wants to see Rachel again. She doesn't want to get lost. She wants to be wherever Rachel is.
Rachel is sobbing. No, little star, don't cry.
She wanted to open her mouth, to speak, to kiss Rachel. But she finds that she doesn't even have the strength to breathe.
She's being pulled towards a spiralling sea of oblivion. But she holds on because amidst Rachel's sobs, falling tears and her own pain, she hears something.
Something she has always wanted to hear.
"Quinn, I love you too. Quinn, please."
It was all Quinn ever needed. To hear those words was like fulfilling the happiness of a lifetime.
It was unfair that it had to be this way when Rachel first tells Quinn she loves her.
But it will have to do.
And so Quinn smiles.
Finally.
The locket falls on the ground.
And Rachel's scream fills the busy New York street.
"QUINN!"
A/N 3: Now, Imma go watch me some Achele GG kiss and burrow myself in some hole where you cannot hurl tomatoes at me or my laptop. Go on convince me to write the next chapter faster. *evil laugh* But kidding aside, tell me what you think. REVIEW. REVIEW. REVIEW. I cannot stress that hard enough.
A/N 4: Song is "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles. I really hope you all have heard of this wonderful song.