A/N: You guys are awesome! Thank you all so very much for the lovely reviews and all of the alerts/favorites too.
Also, this chapter is edited. By me, so mistakes may still be within..
Before I know what I'm really doing - and before anyone can even attempt to stop me - I am running (Hobbling, limping and half jogging) toward Quinn's car. She is slowly backing out of the parking space, which gives me a little time to get to her, but not by much. Strong willed and determined, I use every bit of strength that I have within me and make a break for it, pain be damned. By the time I reach her car, she has pulled all the way out and is about to drive away, my heart constricts and the tears that may or may not have welled up again moments ago, start to slide down my cheeks.
I growl, not willing to give up so easily and let her slip away from me.
"Quinn, wait!" Making a rash, split second decision, I call out to her once again and throw myself at her car, hands slamming down against the trunk as it starts to roll away.
It's easy to hear the girly scream she lets out as the breaks slam down with a loud piercing squeal. The car rocks back and forth, sending me flying backwards onto my ass, hard. A hiss escapes my lips, closely followed by a low, deep groan of excruciating pain. I can faintly hear a door slam shut and then lots of running feet over the blood rushing in my ears; a gasp is next, a very loud, shocked one at that. I would be shocked too if someone flung there self at my vehicle that was not only running, but moving as well. God, I really am stupid, aren't I? Who does that? Me apparently. Is Quinn really worth being killed over and by 'her' own car? Well, yes.
She is worth everything to me and more.
"Oh my God, Rachel, are you okay!" My eyes snap open at the loud, worried, and panicky voice of none other than Quinn Fabray.
I can't help but stare at her, transfixed, as she falls to her knees by my side.
"Rachel! Oh dear God. Baby, are you hurt?" Dad hollers out to me - sounding much like Quinn - and also falls to his knees.
I blink, dazed over how close my Queen of hearts is to me, and not at all because of the pain coursing through my body. I can't seem to find any words to say to either one of them, they are stuck in between my head and throat, lodged in a forming lump. I swallow several times - trying to moisten my now dry mouth - and then lick at my suddenly dry lips as well. Where the hell did all my saliva go?
"Rach, say something! Did I hurt you?" Quinn is now up close and personal, her beautiful hazel orbs penetrating my own brown ones. My breath hitches, Quinn Fabray is just inches from my face, stealing my breath straight from my lungs. I should probably say something, but I'm not even sure what would come out.
Knowing me though, and by the way my series of unfortunate events today told me of my bad luck, it would be highly likely that I would blurt out the real reason why I am so damn speechless and zoned out right now. Which of course, all has to do with her finally being within touching distance after waiting so very long. Not so sure how well that would go, so it is probably best if I turn my head away and address my Dad instead. Painfully tearing my eyes away from her and jerking my head to the other side of me, I squeak out the first thing that comes to mind,
"Quinn?"
Dad arches his eyebrow at me - though understandably not sexy like Quinn's, it is still amusing and effective when used correctly - then glances to the side where Quinn is.
"I mean, I-I'm ok?" I blush, clear my throat, and then try speaking like a normal human being.
"Did, did I hit-"
"No, you didn't hit her, we saw everything. What the hell were you thinking Rachel? You can't just throw yourself at a moving car!" I flinch as Dad interrupts her question, his voice rising loudly for all to hear.
"Excuse me! You did what? Why would you-"
"Please, don't, I'll explain everything later, but right now I really need to get up and find somewhere softer to sit." I cut her off too, not wanting to explain my actions while sitting on hard pavement.
"I'll get her, you two move out of the way." Andrés speaks up from behind us and shoos Quinn and Dad further away so he will have room to lift me up.
They both hesitantly step away, one with a scowl and confusion in her worried expression and the other with a very papa bear expression planted on his face. Andrés helps me up easily enough, managing to avoid my blue painted palms while shouldering most of my weight. I hold my hurt foot off the ground much like a wounded dog, needing to keep any and all pressure off it before I hurt it worse than it already is.
"Rachel…" Another feminine gasp accompanied by my name has me swiveling my head around to find the source.
Quinn is staring at me in nothing short of pure shock, alarm, and even more bewilderment than before, "Why are, what did you, what?"
And now I am blushing again. Am I ready for this? Am I ready to complete my goal and tell her what I went through to find her?
More than ready. At least on the former part, the latter is a bit embarrassing and will take longer for me to reveal. Whatever it is I may or may not be ready for right now, I need to do it in private, which means that my Dad and Santana's Dad need to leave us be and give me some very much needed space for this, "Can you give us a minute?"
Quinn blinks at me, a frown marring her beautiful features, "I-sure?" She mumbles while looking down at her feet, mistaking the request.
It's just so damn difficult to look away from her.
I swallow again and tentatively reach out a trembling hand, my shaking fingertips brushing gently over her wrist, "No, not you, them."
Her head pops up quickly, eyes searching mine curiously, before they land on my hand still sliding over the smooth skin of her wrist now smudged with blue paint, "Oh."
"Uh, well, ok then, we'll just be over…that way if you need us." My Dad, taken aback by the sudden change in atmosphere, mutters out a response and points in the direction of his car.
Andrés quietly agrees, and then deposits me right in Quinn's unsuspecting arms. We both freeze on contact, but neither Daddies notice the tension, as they are already walking swiftly away.
"I-I'm sorry." I apologize softly after peering down at her where our bodies are touching, and seeing paint splotches forming on her skin and clothes.
She gazes at me; facial expression unreadable other than the obvious un-comfort being this close to me is causing, and then looks to where my eyes are.
"It's fine. Rachel-"
"I need to sit down." I quickly butt in, still not comfortable with our location to have this conversation.
"Oh, yeah, of course." She nods out a reply before letting me go and scurrying hurriedly away back to her car.
I'm left having to hold my own weight while balancing with just one foot.
"Berry, come here, you can sit in my car." Oh, poop, back to Berry so soon? Damn her, I was loving my name coming from those delectable lips.
But I had a feeling it wouldn't last.
I let myself pout inwardly, but show nothing as I hobble toward the passenger side door. I grasp onto it - half-glaring at Quinn in the process for not thinking it wise to help me - and carefully hop-turn around to lower myself inside, but before I can even finish turning all the way, I hear yet another Quinn Fabray gasp emitted out of her mouth from directly behind me. Giving only seconds pause, I complete the turn to see if she's ok and to sit, "Quinn, are you-"
"Shit, Rachel, your ass!" She yells at me right as I bend down, her hand attempting to reach out to me, but missing by a split second as gravity takes over and sends me plopping into the seat.
What about my backside? Wait…was…was Quinn staring at- "Quinn?"
"You have freakin' paint all over you, Berry!" Oh. OH! Well, that explains why she would be staring at me.
Right, because why else would she want to stare at any part of my anatomy?
I look up at her, though not for long, because my lips start to tremble and I can't stop the fresh tears from filling my eyes until they become blurry.
"Rach, no, don't do that." Her quiet, surprised, and confused plea only makes the tears well over, and then I am crying for real after having held it in since that damn hill broke my fall.
"I have not done anything right today, I've ruined everything." I blubber out through the tears while trying to stand back up.
Quinn will never want me.
"You haven't ruined anything, Rachel. Well, you know, except for your clothes and possibly my seat…" Her attempt at reassuring me fails.
I'm not even sure if that is what she was trying to do, but if she was, she really sucks at it. A sob escapes past my lips as I give up trying to stand. I don't have the energy or the will anymore to do anything but sit here and cry my eyes out from ruining the chance to set things right between us, and for ruining such a beautiful day on one of the most important days of my young life.
"But it's okay! I'm sure you have more clothes and I-I can get a seat cover to hide the blue mark?" Now frantic, she tries again at consoling me, her hand even coming to a rest on my knee.
Is she kneeling? Oh, whoa, déjà vu.
Oh no, am I dreaming again? Would that really be so bad? This is more of a nightmare after all, and yeah, if I were asleep, I would want to wake up. Right?
But, I don't want her to disappear again.
"Quinn?" I whimper out, suddenly scared that this isn't real.
Why I would be scared of waking up after going through the last few minutes is beyond me. Anyone in their right mind would want to wake up from this travesty, but Quinn is right in front of me, and even though this whole situation could be a hell of a lot better, she is not in my face to mock me or to spit insults that hit me like a shotgun straight to the heart. No, it is the total opposite; she seems to be truly worried over me.
Why would I want to give that up?
"Um, why don't I give you a lift home? I'm sure you would like to get out of those clothes and wash up." Seriously, am I dreaming? Quinn has never; in our high school life offered me a ride anywhere.
Afraid or not, my eyes open of their own accord, needing the confirmation that yes, this is real.
They land right on hers.
I'm not dreaming.
This is real.
She is real.
"You would do that for me?" I ask, unsure whether to believe her or not.
"Yes, Rachel, I would do that for you. We don't live too far apart and besides, you still have some explaining to do. Like why in the world you would throw yourself at my car." I feel my heart flutter at her affirmation, and at the fact that we don't live far apart from each other, which I never knew because there is no reason for Rachel Berry to know where Quinn Fabray's lives.
Then my heart stutters, because she is right, I do have to explain my actions, and because that is probably the only reason she would even suggest taking me home. So that we can talk.
So that 'I' can talk.
Am I really ready for this?
"Brittany, tell me who the hell groped you and why the hell their hands were blue!" Santana. Oh no, they are headed this way!
I'm ready! I'm ready!
Quinn hears her too and shoots up from her spot, she looks around for them, perfect eyebrow raised in question.
That perfect arched eyebrow turns on me, "You groped Brittany?"
"I certainly did not!" I protest, face turning into a tomato.
"Oh my-Rachel, her boobs have handprints on them!" She hisses in a loud whisper, apparently not convinced now that there is evidence against me.
"San, I'm not telling you right now, you'll just get mad and this is supposed to be a happy day, remember?" Britt's voice is close as she thankfully denies Santana an answer.
"I won't get mad, I just want to know whose been feeling up my girl! Hey, Q." Santana negates the accusation; - though we all know that it is a blatant lie - as they both come to a stop beside a bright, burnt orange convertible that is parked in front of where Quinn's car had come to a halting stop.
Satan's car.
"Hey." Quinn mumbles in reply, voice cracking.
"Why are you parked like-is that Berry in there? Hey, munchkin." Oh no, she is getting closer! Wait, did she just acknowledge me without someone pulling her teeth?
"S-Santana!" I stutter out, exclaiming her name in a high-pitched voice that makes all of us wince.
Including me.
She blinks in response, and then her brows furrow as her eyes dart from me to Quinn, "Did you break her?"
Ha! No, I broke me. Now you are going to break me into little pieces and toss me into the abyss, never to be seen again.
"Come on, San; let's go home, I'm ready to celebrate!" Brittany bounces over, butting in to the conversation impatiently.
Her eyes catch mine, however, and that one look tells me that she is doing this for me.
She is trying to save me from being pummeled by her girlfriend.
"Sure, Britt." She looks to her other half, giving in instantly -totally whipped - and then turns her gaze back over to us, "Later, bitches. I gots to go. Britts and me have some celebrating to do."
Right when I think she is about to turn around and walk away, she pauses, an unusual soft expression taking over her face. She stares at Quinn before stepping the rest of the way over, and then she wraps Quinn up in a tight(also unusual) hug that takes Quinn off guard and causes her to noticeably stiffen up. Santana ignores it, waiting for her to loosen up and relax into the awkward embrace, and when she does; her arms return the hug.
"I'm so proud of you, Q." Santana murmurs in Quinn's ear, seeming to hold on to my angel just a little tighter.
I feel like I am intruding on them, but I can't not watch, especially when Quinn melts into her.
"I'm proud of you too, S." Quinn returns the sentiment before pulling away.
Is it wrong for me to be turned on right now?
Probably.
But, really, who could blame me?
"Great, now that we have that shit out the way-Quinn, why is there blue paint on your clothes?" Finally, Santana moves back, but the hopeful moment of her not discovering who the handprint culprit is, is dashed when she see's the same blue paint on the side of Quinn's pants.
Oh no, no no no!
"Uh, I-"
"Show me your hands." Santana cuts her off, face no longer soft at all.
"Santana-"
"Show. Me." She cuts her off again, now getting angry.
I watch Quinn lift her arms up and then I'm assuming she flips her (clean) palms over.
The only evidence on her is the little smudge of paint on her inner wrist.
"If it's not you, then that leaves-oh hells no, you have got to be kidding me. Q, I suggest you get outs my way, right now."
Oh, Damn.
