I am just overwhelmed from all the reviews. Thank you to everyone who has taken interest and reviewed. This chapter took off on me and I didn't get to the promised outing. I type one handed, so it takes me awhile to type a chapter. I wanted to get this part out instead of making everyone wait.
Enjoy.
Chapter 8
Rachel stormed through the door to Quinn's hospital room completely ignoring both Mrs. Fabray-Evans and the therapist sat near the blonde. She flopped down hard on the bed, her arms spread out wide and stared at the ceiling tiles. They were really ugly, she thought.
"I found her."
Quinn licked her lips, "who?"
"My mother. I found her in the library."
Mary looked at Quinn. Quinn shook her head and shrugged. She could do that now and took every opportunity she could to move her shoulders.
"Can I have a drink, please?" Her eyes darted to the water pitcher on her nightstand.
"Oh, yes, sweetie. Let me grab it for you."
"I've been researching her all morning and as I suspected my intuition has been proven correct," Rachel said in one long breath, completely obvious to everything going around her.
Mary picked up the pitcher, she placed the bent straw to her daughter's lips. Quinn sucked greedily for a moment and when she had her fill, she pushed the straw away with her tongue.
"Thanks, mom."
"My mother is none-other-than Broadway legend Patti LuPone."
Mary stuttered in her steps halfway back to the nightstand. Even the therapist had stopped watching Quinn for any signs of distress and turned to look at the pint-sized diva.
Quinn was simply bemused, used to Rachel's crazy by then, and decided to play with her, "oh really?"
Rachel bolted upright on the bed and grabbed from her bag a thick binder chalked full of her proof that Ms. LuPone was, in fact, her biological mother. She bound over to Quinn flipping the book open as she went.
"I've always had a deep connection to Ms. LuPone, her choice of roles and songs. I decided to do a little math to see if her being my mother was even possible."
Quinn glanced the page. It was a timeline complete with gold star above the date, 'Dec. 18, 1994'.
"I was born on Dec. 18, 1994," Rachel continued, still oblivious to everything but her diatribe. "'94 was a big year for mother."
Quinn rolled her eyes.
"She was a sensation in Pal Joey." Rachel tapped a copy of Musical Review.
Quinn squinted at the photo of Patti and then side eyed Rachel. The brunette was very serious. Quinn settled on quirking an eyebrow.
"But that was New York. I was born in Ohio, you say, well...," Rachel said.
She looked at Quinn. Quinn fought with herself from laughing in Rachel's face. Quinn motioned back to the book with her chin. There was a flurry of pages as Rachel flipped through to another article.
"... Mother took many breaks from the show to tour with Mandy Patinkin. That April found her at the EJ Thomas Hall in Akron, Ohio for a standing room performance, nine months before I was born."
Quinn scrunched her face, trying to not lose it, knowing fully that Rachel was being very serious. It was too ludicrous though. Mary sat with her mouth agape.
"Are you saying your fathers impregnated Patti LuPone at the Marriott in Akron?"
Rachel was nodding her head vigorously. A content smile on her face.
"Was Mandy Patainkin in on this?" Quinn teased.
"Quinnie," Mary warned. Truthfully Mary was glad to see her daughter having fun. Rachel was a constant visitor, showing up most nights and on the weekends. She'd turned into a good friend in just a few short weeks. The brunette was always a nice distraction in an otherwise very monotonous tiring routine.
"Hey, you're standing." Rachel seemed to come out of her stupor.
Quinn chuckled, "the chair is standing. I'm just along for the ride." She wasn't completely upright. The had the chair tilted backwards slightly.
The therapists started her on a tilt table awhile ago to build her endurance to get her upright where she could first sit in a chair and now they were working on endurance for a stander. It was good for her bones and circulation. It made her heart work harder. The family was learning just how much care it was going to take to keep her healthy.
They'd started testing out some demo chairs. This one was capable of going from sitting to reclining completely flat to raising her vertically upright to a standing position. The problem was that her body didn't know what to do after being laid flat or sitting down for so long. Her blood pressure kept dropping and so she had a monitor hooked up up to her right bicep. Her arms were resting comfortably out in front of her on a table. Her fingers were splayed out flat to keep them from curling on themselves.
"All you have to do is look at pictures of her in her performance in Masterclass in 1996."
A publicity still was produced and shoved in Quinn's face. Quinn leaned her head back to get a better view.
"Look at the pain in her eyes from the hurt she's feeling from giving up her obviously talented little girl."
Quinn had her fill of teasing Rachel. She didn't want her friend to get hurt and as it was, all Quinn could see coming from this was hurt.
"Honey, why are you looking this up?" Mary asked.
"Oh. Someone from the school board showed up at Glee, a Mr. Bryan Ryan, I think, and he asked us to think about our dreams, and obviously I'm going to be a Broadway star."
"Obviously," Quinn cut in.
"But then this friend, Jesse, he asked me what my dream really was and I just want to know who my mother is."
"Do you really think that Patti LuPone is your mother, dear?"
Rachel looked between Quinn and Mary. Both wore matching expressions of understanding and worry.
"Do you want to hear my research that proves Bernadette Peters is my mother?"
"Rachel," Quinn began. She needed to stop this before it grew to far out of hand. Quinn knew what it was like to want something so badly that it hurt so much you couldn't breath. "I know that you want to meet your mother, but maybe it's best if you just ask your dads, um, uh, he...they..."
Quinn shook her head, feeling like cobwebs had taken over her thoughts. "Hmm, your dad's to tell... I don't feel good."
One minute Quinn was looking at Rachel with clear eyes and concern, the next thing Rachel knew the blonde's eyes rolled up in her head. Her shoulders rolled forward, limp, and her head slid backwards, limp as it bounced against the headrest and settled there.
Rachel squeaked, "help!"
The therapist had already jumped to her feet triggering an alarm.
"She's okay, Rachel," Mary felt the need to reassure the energetic brunette, despite also feeling like panicking herself. She would have if she hadn't witnessed this very same thing happen the day before while they had her daughter standing up. She carefully lifted her firstborn's head as the therapist took control of the attendants controls at the back of the chair and was quickly lowering it flat.
Rachel hesitated for the briefest of seconds and grabbed Quinn's arms as they started to slide from the tray. She had this overwhelming urge to protect them, she didn't want Quinn to hurt them, even though she knew Quinn couldn't feel her arms.
A couple nurses bustled in and read the blood pressure readout. "Her BP is too low still."
There was a few tense minutes and Rachel found herself clutching Quinn's hand. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until one of the nurses indicated that Quinn's blood pressure had stabilized. The air left Rachel's lungs in one giant whoosh. She felt a little shaky.
"Quinn's going to be fine, Mary. We're just going to get her in bed."
"Are we pushing her too hard?" Mary asked.
"Not at all. Her circulation is compromised. It's forcing her heart to work harder. We talked about this." It was the therapist that responded.
"I know, I just hate seeing her so helpless, though."
The conversation drifted in past the ringing in Rachel's ears.
"Standing is good for her, it helps with bone density, decreases her chances of developing osteoporosis. We simply need to build her endurance more."
Rachel pretended to not be eavesdropping on the conversation going on around her. The nurses were hustling around. One had deftly inserted an IV into the crook of Quinn's arm and held a bag of clear liquid high up in the air. They'd placed an oxygen mask over her face and another nurse was preparing the lift.
The binder of notes lay abandoned on the floor where it had been shoved off the table in the ensuing chaos of Quinn's collapse.
Rachel could see Quinn's eyes fluttering back and forth as she swam back into consciousness.
"Ugh," Quinn moaned and tried to bring her hand to her forehead. She felt equal parts sweaty and cold. The world swam in front of her as she blinked into the room. Her hand stayed clutched in Rachel's.
"Welcome back sweetie." Mary gently brushed her fingers through Quinn's hair. Quinn's brow furrowed and she licked her lips between the mask.
"I had a bad dream," she muttered. It was muffled and weak.
She couldn't feel it, but the nurse activated the blood pressure cuff. It started inflating and after a moment the machine beeped.
"'What's that?" Her view was strained. She could see the ceiling tile and the nurses standing over her. She followed the IV line upwards until it disappeared into the bag. Rachel and her mother were leaning over her wearing matching expressions of worry.
"We're just checking your blood pressure again, Quinn." One of the nurses that stood out of her view said.
"Bernadette Peters and Patti LuPone were fighting over something. It was a cat fight, but I can't remember about what. Wait Rachel you have two mothers, too?" Quinn teased. It was either tease her friend or cry over passing out again. She'd much rather laugh than cry.
Rachel laughed despite the scary situation. "Ha-ha, that's funny Quinn Fabray-Evans."
"You know me. I'm just a stand-up comedian."
"That's horrible!" She slapped Quinn's arm.
"Ow, hey!" Quinn didn't miss a beat.
"You felt that!" Rachel squeaked out loudly, startling everyone in the room.
Quinn's eyes sparkled and she shook her head negatively. Beneath the mask she was smirking.
"That's not funny!"
TBC
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