Author's note: Sorry for not posting yesterday! This is the longest chapter so far, to make up for yesterday. Hope you all like it! And please, review!


Chapter 6 - I've been broken but still I can't explain

Quinn was almost done with her shower when she heard the girl starting to cry. It was always the same - starting with tiny whimpers that escalated until she was crying so hard that she couldn't hold herself still.

For Quinn to be able to hear it, even with the noise of the water and two doors between them, it had to be pretty bad already.

She clenched her hands in fists trying to keep herself focused on what she was doing, but like a mother hearing her baby cry, she just couldn't ignore it. She turned off the shower and put her clothes on in a flash, not even bothering to comb her wet hair.

When she got out of the bathroom, she could swear her heart had broken to a million little pieces. The door was half opened again, and the girl stared right in her eyes and they looked so hopeless. She was asking Quinn for help. This was Quinn's opportunity to give back what the girl had done for her. But she had no idea how.

Rachel's eyes were puffy and red, her bangs stuck to her forehead because of all the sweat that ran down her face mixed with the incessantly tears. Her whole body shook, almost as bad as the people Quinn had seen having a seizure.

In spite of her shaking body, Rachel slowly poked her hand outside of the closet door, trying to reach Quinn – without ever looking away from her eyes.

Quinn came closer to the closet and knelt on the floor. She was going to lift her hand to touch the door, like she had been doing lately – she felt closer to Rachel this way, she felt like she was helping. But Rachel prevented her from doing just that when she grabbed Quinn's index finger and held it with her whole hand.

Quinn gulped, but didn't move. If that's what the girl needed, she could have it. She could have all of Quinn's fingers and she still wouldn't mind. She felt Rachel gripping tighter as the sobs wracked her body.

She looked down for the first time since Quinn had come out of the bathroom and shut her eyes, shaking her head and murmuring some things that Quinn couldn't quite make out, even when she came closer. She assumed the girl didn't want her to hear it, and distracted her mind with her prayers.

She wasn't sure if her prayers had worked or if the episode was going away naturally, but leisurely her shakes got weaker and weaker until fading away completely. She took some deep breaths, trying to regain some composure. Finally she let out a few weak hiccupping sobs and opened her eyes to stare into Quinn's.

She gave Quinn a weak smile, which was interrupted by another hiccup, but Quinn smiled back anyway. The little hiccup was adorable. Her finger was still inside the girl's fist, but she could see that Rachel still wasn't ready to let go of it, so she sat down, showing the girl that she could take her time: Quinn would wait there forever if it would make her feel better.

And indeed it did. Quinn saw when Rachel's eyes started to get heavy, and realized how the grip was loosening before the girl actually fell asleep. But Quinn still didn't move; she stayed still until Rachel's hand fell, setting Quinn's finger free.

Quinn gently put Rachel's arm over her knees, inside the closet, and closed the door slowly.

When she knew everything was okay, and that Rachel wouldn't need her anymore, she ran to the bathroom.

And as soon as she make to the bathroom, she threw up. She held herself on the edges of the toilet and just let it happen, but while it happened, Quinn could feel her tears washing her face.

What she had just watched was terrifying – the fear in the girl's eyes, the way she lost control over her own body, how unbelievably fast her breathing was – and she considered herself lucky for being able to hold herself together for so long, to only break down when she reached the bathroom and was alone.

She woke up on the bathroom floor when one of the nurses entered the room yelling at her for missing her appointment with the psychologist. The last thing she needed was to hear the nurse's lecture right now, but she couldn't escape it, just like she couldn't escape the fact that she would have to take her medications all over again.

But when she remembered why she did it, she didn't feel like complaining anymore.

And before leaving the room, she heard a small thank you coming out of the closet.

The fact that the girl had enough courage to speak to her out loud instead of slipping out of one the notes, like she did before, made Quinn feel invincible. She could do anything if she knew she would get a reward like this.


Every last Friday of the month, they celebrated birthdays at the institution. They got everyone that was born in that month together, and had one big party, that lasted for the whole day. They had cakes. They had balloons. They had soda. They had birthday games. The staff tried their best to make each person feel special at least on that day, to make them feel safe and at home.

But Quinn always avoided the cafeteria on that day. She hated how happy everyone seemed. She didn't understand why people celebrated being alive. And she hated how kind everyone was to the ones who were getting older. It just seemed fake to her.

But today, she had to go. If she stayed in the room, the girl wouldn't come out to eat and take her medicines. She went, but chose a seat as far away as possible from the party, and stayed there for just over twenty minutes, before heading back to her room holding the present she brought back for Rachel.

Placing the cupcake by the closet door, she knocked gently and left the room before she could get a response.


Quinn didn't want to fill herself with hope – she knew that never worked out. But her curiosity talked louder, and when she realized she was already in the reception.

"Excuse me?" She asked one of the receptionists. "Is there anything for me today?"

She tried to act casually, being watched by a few people sitting on the waiting room of the hospital entrance.

"What's your name again, Miss?"

"Quinn. Quinn Fabray."

"Oh yes, I think we have a few packages for you!"

Quinn's mouth opened in a surprised smile and she let out a sigh of relief. She had never received any mail, and eventually just stopped checking on the reception. But every patient got something on his or her birthday. And deep down she knew her parents still cared for her.

"Miss?" The receptionist returned from the back room. "I'm sorry, I must have been mistaken. I really thought there were a couple packages. But here, you got this one."

Quinn grabbed the small envelop with a quiet nod. She just wanted to get away from everyone's look. She couldn't help the disappoint she felt, but at least she had a letter.

It was going to be okay. She always liked letters. And sometimes, a heartfelt letter could be better than any gift that money could buy.

When she knew she was out of people's watch, she leaned against the wall to open her envelop.

Quinn was almost sure people from the whole hospital were able to hear her heart falling to the ground and breaking in tiny little pieces.

The envelop had only a standard happy birthday card, from the hospital itself. It didn't even had her name on it. And Quinn had never felt like she was so insignificant.


Quinn spent the rest of the day in the music room. There was no one else there since just about everyone was at the party, and that was the best thing that could happen, in her opinion.

She turned the volume up as loud as the speakers would go, and lay on the floor, facing the ceiling. She didn't have her own CDs so she relied on the ones that other patients had brought. They didn't have the best taste ever, but there were a couple ones that she learned to like.

She liked to listen to the songs and just think. She liked to hear the songs and not think. To be honest, at that moment, she just wanted to forget everything. To fly wherever the song would lead her.

Now, she didn't want to stop there. She wanted to go further, explore more. After playing for the girl, she had grown fonder of the instruments and since she couldn't spend time in her room, she started going there more and more each day.

She listened to the songs on replay for a few times, and then tried to play them, without consulting sheets music or anything; using just her memory of how they had sounded. And she was getting better at it.

Quinn almost dropped the guitar she was playing when one of the nurses bustled into the room and turned the speakers off.

It was time to go to bed, and the day would finally be over.


Quinn was tucked under her blankets; eyes wide open, just waiting for her goodnight.

She heard the girl moving inside the closet, and thought she must have been trying to get comfortable in there, which she thought it was surely impossible.

She wanted to tell the girl to go to her bed. That it was okay. That she wouldn't bother her. That no one would get inside the locked room. That they were safe there.

But as soon as the noise stopped, the voice came.

"Happy birthday, Quinn"

Quinn choked, her eyes bulged out and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. How could she know that? It was just impossible. She literally never talked – to anyone – so how could she find out? She coughed a few times before managing to actually talk again.

"Thank you"

Quinn whispered back, holding her hands together to stop the shaking and closing her eyes tight. The whole day she tried to avoid those wishes that annoyed her so much, but right now, annoyance was the last thing on her mind.

She could feel the truth in those words. She knew the girl meant it, she didn't just say it to be polite, like everyone else did.

Someone actually wanted her to be happy. It seemed unbelievable to her.

Someone cared.

"Goodnight, Quinn"

She smiled with her eyes still closed, picturing the girl, all curled up inside the closet. The image made her uneasy, but not in a bad way. She wanted to hug the girl. She was just so happy to know that someone cherished her in a sincere way.

But she hugged her legs instead.

"Goodnight, Rachel."


Quinn was finishing getting dressed when the door opened abruptly. She grabbed the sheets that lied on her bed and covered herself as she finished putting in her shirt.

"Excuse me! No one taught you how to knock?"

She groaned and looked behind her when she was ready, rolling her eyes when she saw the psychologist standing by the opened door.

"Wow. Just because I missed an appointment this week, doesn't mean you need to come to my room and get me, you know. I can still walk."

She groaned, and the psychologist let out a small laughing, shaking her head.

"You are very self-centered. Who says I'm here to talk to you, Ms. Fabray?"

Quinn frowned for a moment, but then figured what the doctor was trying to say and gasped.

"What are you doing here then? She won't talk to you!"

She never talked to anyone, only Quinn, only sometimes. Quinn was proud of that. Everyone knew that. The psychologist knew that – Quinn had told her. Then why was she there?

"Well, we'll see. Can you excuse us?"

Quinn huffed and crossed her arms, sitting on her bed and making it clear that she didn't plan on leaving any time soon.

"No."

The psychologist wasn't laughing anymore, and the always gentle – fake – smile she always carried had faded away from her face. But Quinn didn't let her expression flicker; she needed to show that she meant it.

"We need privacy. You would rather have me calling the guards to help me take her to my office?"

Quinn groaned again and stomped her foot before leaving the room. She felt childish, but she hated to lose arguments.

"And you're not allowed to stay by the door either, Quinn"

She was bluffing, Quinn thought. She just had to stay really quiet and she would hear everything.

"Quinn!"

She smashed her fist against the door and yelled.

"I hate this place!"

But she regretted it immediately, thinking of how that could have scared Rachel, and gave up, leaving the hall and heading to the music room, to clear her head.


Quinn rolled on bed once more. She couldn't stop thinking of how the talk between Rachel and the psychologist had gone. She even tried to ask her during her own appointment, but the psychologist adamant – something about doctor/patient confidentiality. Quinn got angry and didn't talk for the whole hour, even though she knew that acting like that wouldn't get her anywhere.

She wanted to ask Rachel, but she didn't have the courage. She felt like she was overstepping – actually, she knew she was – but it had been long since she had lost control over her mind. She wanted to know if the girl had opened up, she wanted to know if she had been scared, she wanted to know everything.

"Quinn?"

Quinn's head snapped back to look at the closet, and she found the closed door. She frowned. It still amazed her how perfect the girl's timing was; she always knew when Quinn needed to hear her voice. But that's not the usual goodnight she gets.

"Yeah?" She asked curiously.

"I can't sleep."

Her voice was so small. Like a children's one, when they've broken something and they know they have to tell their parents, but they are afraid of the consequences. Like someone confessing one of their darkest sins. But that's not how she should feel, at least not about something so innocent.

Quinn got up and walked to the closet, sitting next to the door.

"It's okay"

She murmured, but she knew the girl would realize that she had walked towards her.

"Why don't you try to sleep in your bed today?"

Quinn suggested, although she didn't really think it would work. She had a pretty good idea of what had happened: the psychologist had pushed her too far and made her anxious. That seems to be the way they worked there – they did it with Quinn too, on her first appointment – they push you, and they try to get you anxious and scared so you will open up and start talking until you feel better.

But it didn't work with Quinn, and clearly it didn't work with Rachel either. In fact, Quinn wondered if it had ever worked with anyone.

Rachel didn't answer Quinn's question. She understood that the girl was not ready for that step yet, and she didn't want to be like all the others; she didn't want to push Rachel. So she dropped it, and changed subject.

She looked around and her eyes fell in her nightstand, giving her an idea.

"Maybe- Maybe I could read something for you?"

She asked expectantly. The silence spread across the room again, and Quinn pursued her lips. She didn't know what else she could do.

"Okay."

The answer took a little long to get there, but when it did Quinn was relieved. She stretched her arms to get the book without moving from her spot.

"Okay"

She murmured to herself as she sat with the book on her lap, leaning against the closet door and opening where she had stopped reading. She took a deep breath and started reading, with a calm tone of voice.

"She never knew light could be enough to hurt that much, but one day she woke up in a rainy morning and the sun was in grief. The black clouds hid the blue sky from her sight, and one more time she cried. The moon, the stars, and the sun cried as well, as they watched her pain."

Quinn moistened the point of her fingertip and turned the page silently.

"But for him, who would cry? Who will see him, when the clouds that spread in the sky come from his heart? She rises, she leaps. But she gets stuck in the clouds on her way to the moon. Like a waltz, she dances with her memories, and having the song of his voice as the music playing on the background, she skips, star from star; and the planets align behind her, because they too want to see."

She stopped to take another breath and to wipe away a shy tear that was caught in the corner of her eye. She liked subjective books, because she felt like each person could find a meaning behind the words and everyone would somehow relate to them; but she remembered now why she had stopped reading this one. It touched her too deeply.

"And they too hoped that one day she'll be her own moon, her own star and her own sun. And it will be enough."

She reads the last sentence in a murmur and closes the book, bringing it close to her chest and hugging it tight while another tear escaped from her eyes. All the curiosity that was once in her mind immediately left, leaving the sadness and anxiety that she feared so much.

"Goodnight, Quinn"

But Rachel's voice was much calmer now. And if she had made the girl feel better, why would her feelings matter?