Not much to say. Hope it's a good chapter. *I do not own Glee or Glee Characters*


Secret Love

"Are you feeling well, Quinn?" Judy asked from across the table. "You've barely touched your food."

The blonde jumped, dropping her fork into the jumble of food she had been absentmindedly playing with. Her father gave her a sharp look; he had been behaving coolly with her ever since debacle with Finn. Russell hadn't been cruel or harsh, it was more of a distance, and her face went a little pink under his glance now.

"I'm alright," Quinn lied quickly. "I'm just not very hungry I guess."

Her mother gave her a tense smile before continuing. "It's more than that, Quinnie; you've been distracted all week. Is something bothering you?"

"I'm fine," The blonde said sweetly. "I suppose I'm not sleeping very well. Don't worry, mother."

"Are you sure?" Judy insisted, causing her daughter to feel self-conscious. "You just seem—I don't even know how to describe it—lost I suppose. You've noticed it too, haven't you, dear?"

Russell nodded curtly but then shrugged. The girl's hazel eyes flitted down to her plate and then back up to her mother's eyes.

"I'm fine, momma," Quinn soothed softly. "You're worrying over nothing."

Judy didn't look convinced, but she smiled back at her and continued eating. Quinn let out the breath she had been holding and concentrated on eating a few bites of her badly mangled dinner. She did feel lost; she felt alone and confused and without anyone to explain herself to. Every minute of the day she wanted to climb the steps of the alehouse and run down the hallway to Rachel's door; she wanted to sit at the edge of the brunette's bed and tell her every thought that was hurtling through her head—but she couldn't. Her friend was the reason so many confusing and terrifying thoughts were rampaging through her brain like a stampede. The blonde chewed a piece of potato slowly as she tried to ignore the thoughts and worries that still loomed over her.

Her fork clattered against her plate again when her father cleared his throat. She and Judy gave him their full attention.

"I received a letter today," he began. "From a master builder back east, St. James, accepting my offer to rebuild the school. If the letter is correct, they should be arriving in a few short weeks."

"That's wonderful dear." Judy beamed. "You should let some of the men around town know; they will be happy for the work."

"Actually, it seems they are bringing their own workers," Russell commented. "People who are joining their wagon train in exchange for work and hoping to homestead here once the job is done."

"Well that is exciting!" her mother chirped.

"Best of all," her father said happily. "Our children won't be stuck in that din of filth and sin for much longer. This town won't owe the Berry's anything any longer."

Judy nodded and Quinn felt her cheeks flush once again, a quick flash of irritation towards her father's grudge, before she covered it with a smile. The blonde could feel another anti Berry rant and the very thought of sitting through another of his tirades against the family made her feel sick.

"Did he say how many families would be coming?" Quinn asked quickly, desperately hoping to derail him before he could even begin.

"Not specifically," Russell answered equally as quick.

Mrs. Fabray seemed nearly too excited to contain herself. "It will be so nice to have new families around. When do they arrive? I should organize a picnic to welcome them."

Her father grumbled a little under his breath, which her mother did not seem to notice, as she continued to chatter. Quinn's hazel eyes were locked on Mr. Fabray, watching his brow furrow, and she held her breath as she waited to hear whatever was on his mind.

"I'm not so sure our town needs any new people," Russell cut his wife off as he spoke abruptly. "If you ask me, it's getting a bit crowed here, and need I remind you that you were just as excited about our latest addition and look how that turned out."

Judy fell silent and turned her attention back to her dinner.

Mr. Fabray surveyed the two women at the table and sighed. "But of course you are right, my dear; the best we can do is hope that these new comers are of better stock than the last."

Quinn felt another turn of her stomach at her father's jab and her cheeks burned a little brighter as she forced another fork full of dinner into her mouth. She could hear her mother breath a sigh of relief.

"You're right," Judy chimed again. "No matter what they are like we should put our best foot forward and set a good example for them to follow."

"Too right," her father agreed.

"Are you ready for dessert, father?" the blonde volunteered, hopping up from the table before he could even answer.

He smiled at her for the first time that day and nodded; she scurried into the kitchen, grateful for the chance to get away from the table—and him. Until lately, she had believed the sun rose and fell with her father; he had been her rock and unwavering compass. Russell had always doted on her, even more so than her sister, who was her mother's favorite, and she had blindly believed every word that had ever left his lips. No matter what decisions he had made in regards to her future, she had agreed, knowing deep down he must be right and must have her best interest at heart. Not long after Rachel and her family had moved into town, things had begun to change; his entire demeanor towards them had instantly set her off, stirring the first instance of doubt towards him, and had only become worse with every week. If he could be so wrong about the Berry's, what else could her father be mistaken about?

Then with his sudden decision for her to betray Finn, even if it turned out to be a break she no longer regretted, and his crushing condemnation of love had thrown her all the more. It seemed as though he blamed her for not being romantically attached to anyone at this point, as if her failure to pursue Blaine while maintaining the already existing relationship with Finn were solely on her shoulders, but it had been her father's own words that had set the boy off. The blonde sighed and shook her head at herself. How had everything become so uncertain so unbelievably quickly?

"Quinn?" Judy spoke behind her, her arms filled with dishes from the table. "What's keeping you so long? Is there something wrong with the pie?"

She caught her breath quickly, somehow managing not to jump at the sudden interruption, and lifted the tray that held a still warm apple pie, plates, and silverware.

"No, mother," Quinn said with as much warmth as she could muster. "It was just still a little too hot. It's cool now."

Judy gave her a warm smile, obviously glad to hear her daughter sounding livelier again, and gently set the empty dishes on the counter.

"Wonderful." She beamed. "Take it on out to your father and I'll bring the milk."


Quinn tossed and turned in her bed; she desperately wished that the reason she couldn't sleep was her father's snoring emanating from the other room or her inability to seem to get into a comfortable position, but that was not the case. What kept her awake was the same thing that had denied her sleep since the night of dance over a week ago. Once again, she slipped from her bed and knelt beside it, wringing her hands tightly together until they ached as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Please," she pleaded, her voice ragged and hushed. "Please take this feeling away. Please, oh God, please."

She waited, shivering in the darkness, while the chill from the floorboards crept into her knees and legs. The blonde waited for some feeling of light or forgiveness to fill her the way she heard people in church talk about, but it never came.

"Please." Quinn sobbed, her voice pitching with the plea.

She paused and listened intently for any sign that she had been heard, but her father continued his snoring, uninterrupted, so she knew she had not disturbed them. Her face felt hot with embarrassment and the warm tears from her prayers and she lowered herself fully to the floor and pressed her cheek against the cool, wood panels. Quinn Fabray was alone and she felt it more keenly than she ever had before; prayer used to lift her up, but that was back when she had felt sure her every request would be answered. Now she felt as though she had been abandoned; her heavenly father had seen her for what she was the moment she realized it herself and now she imagined him with his back turned to her. When the chill of the floor finally became too much, she stood back up and collapsed back on the bed to resume her tossing and turning.

What do you want from me? Quinn thought pitifully to the creator who she now felt was shunning her. I haven't done anything. I don't even speak to Rachel; I've tried not to look at her or think of her. Why would you do this to me? As she continued her train of thought the blonde began to grow angry.

"Why did you make me this way?" the girl whispered aloud. "Why won't you fix me? Why did you let her come here? What did I do to deserve this?"

Quinn laid on her back and stared at ceiling. What am I? She thought again.

She hadn't realized her feelings for Rachel fully until Santana had interrupted their embrace; there were many things that had to fall into order before it clicked into place firmly in her mind, but that was the last piece of the puzzle. If her feelings for Rachel had been merely friendly, then she wouldn't have felt a sudden warm flash of embarrassment at being discovered; her blush, which had gone undetected by everyone else, and the feeling of being caught in the act had brought reality crashing in on her.

The whole town had always seen Kurt as too delicate; he was often made fun of and bullied about his demeanor and the way he carried himself, but no one in the town fully thought that meant he was uninterested in women. It was merely assumed that he was too frail and dainty compared to the other boys. No one in their little settlement would have truly dreamed that it was possible or if they did, it had never been discussed, not even in private gossip. When Puck had yelled his accusation and gone after him, however, Quinn learned for the first time about the idea that people could have those kinds of feelings for the same gender. The blonde had watched the town react as though they had just discovered that Kurt had killed someone and she couldn't understand how liking someone, no matter who it was, could be considered so heinous. Many of the townswomen had huddled at the door of the town hall with her and began gossiping; it was only then that Quinn had learned it was a terrible sin—a perversion in the eyes of the lord. As the women talked, the blonde had become more and more disgusted with what they said; they spoke vulgarly about it, some in panic and others almost in jest, and she had suddenly felt the pressing need for more air and space so she had stepped out into the street.

Quinn remembered actually feeling frightened for Rachel because she was out in the dark, trying to catch up to the boy; she'd had an irrational fear that somehow the brunette would catch his affliction like some communicable disease. Once she spotted Mr. Hummel, who had always been an upright and respectable man, searching the streets in panic for his son, all thoughts of Kurt being something depraved and disgusting melted away. She had reminded herself that she had known him her entire life and though they had never been friends, she knew there was no evil in him, so when Rachel finally appeared outside and she could approach her, Quinn had already decided that if her friend was on his side, then so was she.

Was that it? Quinn wondered to herself. Was that what I did wrong? The blonde considered that her first sin may very well have been choosing her friend's judgment over the harsher judgment of the word. She would have liked to imagine that was the moment that she had been stricken with these unnatural feelings towards her friend as some sort of test, but looking back, she knew those feelings had already been there from the first time she laid eyes on the brunette. Quinn sighed and considered leaving the bed once again to pray, but quickly abandoned the idea. She was not being heard; no one was listening to her. Perhaps, just perhaps, if she continued as she was, if she kept her distance form Rachel and did her best to control her thoughts, she would be forgiven. Maybe then she could ask for forgiveness and aid and he would listen—if she just tried hard enough.

Rachel Berry, however, was no less determined and undeniable in Quinn's mind than she was in person—even more so. The blonde rolled over onto her stomach and covered her head with a pillow and willed herself to fall asleep.


Quinn stifled a yawn as she sat in class, once again feeling Rachel's warm brown eyes on her, and glued her hazel eyes to the map behind Miss Pillsbury. The blonde desperately needed a distraction from the image of the brunette's sad, yet beautiful gaze, so she concentrated on reading every name and title on the map. A soft wheeze of a snore caught her attention and she glanced across the room at Finn, who was leaned up against the wall asleep, and sighed. Her former beau seemed to do this more and more frequently these days. There teacher sputtered nervously as many of the students followed her gaze and began to giggle; the woman walked over to him quietly and gently patted him on the shoulder.

"Mr. Hudson," Emma squeaked quietly. "Finn, you're asleep again, Mr. Hudson."

Her timid actions did not rouse him and neither did the peals of laughter from most the class.

"I'll wake him up," Puck suggested from the other side of the room, a large grin on his face, and Quinn could easily imagine many cruel ways his former friend might try to wake him.

"Mr. Hudson," Miss Pillsbury tried again, only slightly louder than before.

Finn murmured a little in his sleep and rested his hand lightly on top of their teacher's, who quickly snapped her hand away. Quinn sighed and stood up, brushing past the redhead as she knelt down next to his chair.

"Finn!" The blonde snapped loudly.

After that got no response, she stood back up, and poked him in the shoulder. She felt someone pushing past her and backed away; Santana reached forward and grabbed his shoulder and began shaking him roughly.

"Stampede!" the brunette yelled loudly.

Finn's eyes shot open and bumped his head against the wall as he jerked awake, falling out of his chair in the process, and the girl let go and smirked down at him. His eyes darted around the room, which was now roaring with everyone's laughter, and gritted his teeth.

"That's not funny!" Finn grumbled as he got back into his seat.

"Really, Rip Van Winkle?" Santana said lightly. "I thought it was hilarious."

"It really was funny," Brittany chimed happily from across the room.

"No, it's not!" he yelled back, causing their teacher to take a few steps back.

"You know what else is not funny?" the brunette spat back. "Listening to you snore and mumble little snippets of your naughty dreams all day long."

Finn's face blanched a little as his eyes darted around the room.

"I was not," he said defensively.

Santana opened her mouth to make another cutting remark, but Quinn cut her off. "I think that's enough. Can we just get back to class now?"

Finn looked up at her gratefully and she gave him a weak smile as she made her way back to her seat.

"You're no fun anymore," Santana hissed in her ear as she passed.

I know. Quinn thought as she took her place in the center of the classroom. At least now she had something to distract her from Rachel; Finn kept casting her grateful little smiles and glances throughout the rest of their lessons. She wasn't interested in starting things over with him, that time had passed and he simply didn't fit in her heart the same way as before; somewhere between her father's behavior and Finn's reaction, that part of her had been changed. Like a deep wound or a broken bone, it had healed, but was not the same as before; the pieces fit differently together now. The blonde reasoned that they could possibly be friends now, which they had never truly been before, if he were open to it. It seemed recently that she was desperate to fill her life with as many friends as possible; she spent more time with Brittany, secreted off to speak to Santana more frequently, and even stayed after services to chat with Mercedes on Sundays, but no matter how many people she crammed into her life, it still felt slightly empty. Perhaps she should make more of an effort to get to know their newest student, Tina, who had seemed so shy that Quinn could barely get more than five intact words out of her during their brief encounters at school or on the street.

The blonde made a careful glance slightly behind her, taking care not to look too far back into the room, to Tina. The girl was whispering into Mike's ear and by the smile on his face, it was obvious that they were now a couple. Quinn felt a little twinge in her heart as Tina leaned away from Mike, who had just rested his hand on top of hers on her desk; Rachel's face became visible now that the other girl had moved her head and the blonde turned her head quickly and sighed again. She was sure that Tina might very well be an interesting person, but it was clear that no one was going to fill the gap in her life—Rachel was not someone you could simply replace.

Miss Pillsbury dismissed them and Quinn was ready to bolt for the door when Finn called her name; she slowed her steps, but did not stop until she was out the door, and he caught up to her outside. The blonde waited while other students passed them by and then looked up at him. The boy seemed worn; his eyes looked tired and his shoulders slumped. She imagined it was the extra work around the ranch now that Puck was no longer there to help out, but she could see in his eyes a mirror of her own—tell tale signs of sleepless nights. Finn gave her a lopsided smile and she returned it.

"How are you doing, Finn?" Quinn asked.

"I'm alright." He sighed.

The blonde gave him a skeptical look and he shrugged.

"Can we talk?" Finn asked.

"We're talking now, aren't we?" Quinn answered.

"I know." He nodded, looking a bit frustrated. "I mean really talk. I mean—"

His stammering made her uneasy. "What is it?"

"I miss you," Finn blurted out.

"We see each other all the time," she said lightly, pretending she didn't understand what he meant, as she hoped it would discourage him from saying what she thought he might say.

"It's not the same." He groaned a little.

"I know." Quinn sighed.

"I just," Finn paused and she steeled herself for what she knew was probably coming. "I just wish things were—were like they used to be."

"Finn." She groaned.

"Hear me out," he pleaded. "I was stupid. I should have realized how lucky I was that you were my girl. I guess I should have realized that you could have anyone you wanted, and I should have remembered how lucky I was that you were mine, and I shouldn't have blamed you for what your dad said. I just want you back and I'll do anything, anything—"

Quinn's heart stung again; he had no idea how wrong he was and his words echoed in her head—you could have anyone you wanted.

"Finn." She stopped him, her voice soft and shaky. "Please. It wasn't all your fault."

He seemed to mistake her soft tone and leaned in a little closer; she tilted her head just in time for his lips to brush the top of her head.

"You're all I can think about." Finn sighed. "I can't even sleep."

Her hazel eyes rested on his sadly. "I'm sorry, Finn, but I just—I don't know what I feel right now, but I don't see you that way anymore. It's not your fault; it's nothing wrong with you, but I just don't. I would—I would like to just—just be close friends, because I do care about you."

She'd never spoken this way to Finn before; she had always been sure and assertive.

"You care about me?" Finn breathed, as though he hadn't even heard the rest of what she said.

"Yes, of course, I do." She nodded.

He smiled and Quinn let out a sigh of relief; he was handling this much better than she would have expected.

"Are you coming, Quinn?" Brittany called from the bottom of the steps. "I got a package in the mail."

The other blonde waved a clearly book shaped parcel in the air and Quinn called down that she was on her way.

"Goodbye, Finn," she said cheerfully as she began walking down the steps.

"See you soon," he called after her as she turned the corner with her friend.


When Quinn returned home from Brittany's, it was already nearly dinner time; the two of them had taken turns reading aloud form Quinn's new book, which was safely hidden away in her friend's room. The blonde expected her parents to chastise her for being out so late. Her mother said it was unseemly for a young lady to be out on her own so close to dark and also Quinn was supposed to help with dinner, but instead, they smiled warmly at her as she rushed into the dinning room after washing her hands in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry I'm so late," Quinn apologized softly as she took her seat.

"Oh, Quinnie, that's perfectly alright," Judy bubbled.

The blonde smiled at her mother and glanced to her father, ready to make an apology to him as well, but he simply smiled back at her.

"You were visiting Brittany I suppose?" Russell commented.

"Yes." Quinn smiled back, glad that her father seemed normal again.

"I imagine you two had a lot to talk about," Her mother said as she began making her husband's plate for him.

"Yeah," she answered easily; after weeks of feeling miserable, today seemed the closest thing to a good day she'd had in forever. "Brittany is very excited about the new families coming in. When do you think they will arrive? It can't be much longer."

Her mother looked a little confused, but then simply winked at her daughter and passed the now full plate to Mr. Fabray.

"I'd wager they will arrive by the end of the week," Russell answered with a smile.

"Surly that's not all you two talked about," Judy said knowingly.

"That was mostly it," Quinn answered pensively.

Her mother giggled and shot a warm smile to her husband. "Don't keep her in suspense, Russell, she's obviously to nervous to even bring it up herself."

The blonde's stomach instantly knotted; something was wrong. What were they trying to get her to admit to? They didn't seem upset, but there was obviously something they were getting at.

"I had an interesting talk with someone today," Russell began, and the knot tightened.

Quinn kept her smile firmly in place as she fought down the panic, assuring herself that everything was fine; both her parents looked so happy and if something were wrong, they wouldn't be beaming at her the way they were.

"Oh?" she replied.

"Yes," her father said, clearing his throat a little. "Finn Hudson came by the store to speak with me. He was quite forceful; actually, he insisted that you two cared deeply for each other. Then he very respectfully asked for my permission—"

"He—" Quinn gasped, "he what?"

"He asked for our blessing, Quinnie!" Judy chimed happily.

"Your blessing—" she tailed off as her jaw dropped.

"Don't worry, sweetie." Russell laughed. "We told him yes, of course; we'll announce it properly in church this Sunday."

"But, but I," she stammered, but her father held up a hand as if to wave away her worry.

"I know you must have thought I was against it, dear," he said offhandedly. "By the way, I suggested Mr. Anderson, but I never meant to imply that Mr. Hudson was not a suitable option. Of course he is a perfectly fine boy and I have to admit I was impressed by him all the more today."

"Oh!" Judy exclaimed. "We should write to your sister right away. Frannie will be so pleased! Perhaps they will come out for the wedding."

"The wedding?" Quinn choked a little on the word.

"Well of course." Russell chuckled. "But I suppose we shouldn't mention it to Frannie just yet, Judith; after all, he hasn't even had the chance to propose to Quinn yet."

Her face was flushed bright red as they smiled happily at her, but it was more from anger at Finn than anything else; the boy hadn't taken it well at all—he simply hadn't listened to all she had said. The blonde felt she should have known better, but she had needed him to understand so deeply that she had let herself believe that his reaction was out of understanding. She tried to suck in a deep breath as she began to hyperventilate.

"Don't worry, dear," her mother soothed. "I know it's not a surprise anymore, but I'm sure his proposal will be special."

"Are you alright, Quinnie?" her father asked.

"When?" she asked flatly. "When is the wedding?"

"Well that's for the two of you to decide, of course," Judy answered. "But I've always thought that spring weddings are the best. You have such a lovely complexion in the spring."

"That would give us some time to make the appropriate plans," Russell nodded, "but if you two love birds can't wait, then whatever time you think is best."

Quinn stood up shakily. "I just remembered, I forgot something over at their Pierces."

"Can't wait to tell Brittany the good news," her father said knowingly with a wink.

They both waved her away form the table with more smiles and she made her way blindly down the hall and out the door. Once her feet hit the sidewalk, she didn't stop; her pace quickened and she turned the opposite direction of her friend's house and nearly ran down the street, past the sheriff's office, and then past the church. The sky was turning a hazy peach color as the sun set and she wandered out of town without any real idea where she was going. When she came to the bridge just outside of the city limits, she sat down, feeling suddenly exhausted, and dangled her legs over the edge. It was a very low bridge, which often flooded over, and her feet were submerged, shoes and all, in the muddy water. Tears were flowing freely from her hazel eyes and she wiped her nose on the sleeve of her dress, something she hadn't done since she was a very little girl, and gasped for air. There was no getting out of this; her parent's already had it decided.

"Quinn?" she knew the voice that sounded behind her and she stiffened.

The blonde knew Rachel was standing behind her; it was like she could feel the girl's presence, and her shoulders slumped.

"Are you alright?" the brunette asked softly.

Go away! She thought desperately, but it couldn't compete with the other part of her that seemed to be screaming, Stay!

"Quinn?" Rachel whispered again.

"I'm alright," she mumbled weakly.

After a few moments of silence, Quinn heard the boards of the bridge thud and the girl's shoes appeared next to her; the blonde didn't look up.

"I highly doubt that you are alight, Quinn Fabray," Rachel insisted before gasping. "Your shoes! You're ruining your shoes!"

"I don't care about my damn shoes," Quinn found herself snapping.

The brunette gasped again and the blonde let out a heavy sigh. Suddenly the other girl squatting down next to her on the dirty beams and with a loud splash, Rachel's legs were submerged in the murky water as well.

"What are you doing?" The blonde gasped, watching the muddy water splashing up on the other girl's legs.

"I was simply testing your theory that sitting with your feet in this absolutely disgusting water will somehow solve your problems," Rachel responded sharply. "And either it takes a while for the effects to set in or—as I assumed—it has absolutely no bearing on mood improvement."

"What do you want?" Quinn replied harshly.

The brunette was silent for a few moments. "Right now, I want to know what is bothering you, but perhaps after we deal with that, I suppose I want to know what I did wrong."

The blonde couldn't help it; just having her friend near again was beginning to crack the walls she had carefully built up between them. Quinn struggled to push the pieces back together, reminding herself that staying away from Rachel could be her only salvation, but a sob caught in her throat each time she tried to snap at the girl.

"Please," Rachel pleaded. "Please, Quinn, no matter what you think of me, please let me help you. I promise I will leave you alone if you just tell me what is bothering you."

"Rachel." Quinn's voice cracked as she turned and buried her face in the girl's shoulder.

The brunette jerked, but then wrapped her arms around the blonde as she scooted a little farther back on the bridge. She held her gently and Quinn felt ashamed, because of how she had ignored the girl, and how she felt for her, and because she knew she didn't deserve the tenderness Rachel was showing towards her. Rachel let her cry for a while before resting her head gently on top of her blonde curls and asking once again what was wrong.

"Finn asked my father for permission to marry me," she said weakly after turning her head slightly so that she could speak.

Rachel remained silent, but Quinn imagined that the girl gripped her a little tighter; the blonde shivered and let out a little cough.

"Well?" Quinn said when the girl still didn't respond.

The brunette cleared her throat. "What did they say?"

"They said yes." She sighed. "What else would they say?"

"So you don't want to marry Finn?" Rachel commented.

Quinn sat up straight, causing them to bump heads slightly. "Of course not!"

"I simply didn't know. We haven't spoken in so long that I wouldn't know whether or not you—" The girl stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. So why don't you simply tell them that you are uninterested?"

"I can't," the blonde responded. "I don't know how to explain it. They were so happy and my father has been so angry with me, but today he was happy. Today he loved me again and I can't—"

"He's always loved you, I'm sure," Rachel interrupted.

"They've planned this ever since I was a little girl." Quinn shook her head. "Even if I tried to explain it, they'd never understand that I don't—I don't love him."

"Surely if you tell them you do not love Finn they would understand that," her friend soothed.

Quinn was silent for a while; there was no way to explain her situation properly—she saw the way Rachel's father and uncle adored her. How could the other girl understand that, even though Mr. Fabray loved his daughter, he would force her to marry if necessary because to him love and marriage were two separate things?

"You didn't do anything wrong, Rachel," the blonde said suddenly to change the subject. "It's just—it's me."

Rachel met her hazel eyes as she answered, "That doesn't make any sense. If you want to be my friend and I haven't done anything wrong, then I cannot understand why you've been avoiding me. So it stands to reason that it's not something wrong with you, but rather something wrong with me and you simply want to be kind."

Quinn opened her mouth to object but the loud thud of footsteps on the bridge silenced her.

"There you are." Mr. Fabray heaved a sigh of relief as he approached. "What are you doing out here? I thought you had gone to—"

He stopped abruptly as he recognized Rachel and his eyebrows furrowed as he took in the scene. Quinn cringed at the angry look that washed over his face and froze in place.

"What are you doing out here with her? What is the meaning of this?" he spoke sharply.

"I was—" the blonde began.

"You lie to us and come out here in the dark to meet up with girl, who we have made abundantly clear that we do not approve of," Russell continued. "For what? You shouldn't be out this late and so far from town and after everything finally seemed to be looking up."

His tone was rising quickly into a yell and Rachel trembled a little next to Quinn.

"You're supposed to be at the Pierces' telling them the good news, but when I get there, they haven't even seen you. Your mother is worried," he finished.

"I'm sorry," Quinn croaked.

"Young lady, you will be," Mr. Fabray snapped as he stepped forward and reached for her arm.

"Stop it!" Rachel spat at him before glancing down at her lap quickly. "I'm sorry for being sharp with you, Mr. Fabray, I only mean that Quinn didn't mean to upset you and she didn't come out here to meet me; I simply saw that she was upset and stopped to see if she was alright."

"Nonsense," he all but growled at her. "What has she got to be upset about? Quinn, what is she talking about?"

Quinn was still frozen in place, her eyes wide, and she couldn't seem to get her voice to work.

"Please compose yourself, Mr. Fabray," Rachel said coolly. "I know it's terribly impolite of me to say, but if you listened to your daughter once in a while, you would clearly understand why she is upset."

The blonde's mouth dropped open; no one ever spoke to her father this way and she was amazed at the brunette coming so quickly to her defense.

"Don't you talk to your elders that way?" Russell chastised her harshly.

"She doesn't want to marry Finn Hudson, but you've made her feel like you won't love her if she doesn't," the girl continued on despite his warning. "I'm sure that as a father you can understand how that would utterly demoralize her and I'm positive that you truly want what's best for her, but the way you're going about it—"

"That is enough out of you!" He yelled. "I do not need someone like you telling me what's best for my daughter."

He took another loud step towards them and Rachel stood up, blocking his view of Quinn; the brunette looked so much smaller compared to the large, angry man, but her chin was jutted out and she placed on hand firmly on her hip as she continued to speak.

"I think you should calm down before you attempt to speak to Quinn," the girl said evenly. "I realized I have made you very angry, but that isn't her fault. I would be happy to walk her back into town where you two could discus this more calmly and in private."

Quinn felt sure that her father was about to strike Rachel, but instead, he stepped back and to the side so that he could look his daughter square in the eye. He spoke as though the brunette were not even there.

"Quinn Fabray, mark my words," Mr. Fabray bellowed. "If you are not on your feet and by my side in the next five minutes, you will sorely regret it! You are never to speak to this girl again and I will be sure to tell your teacher that you are not to interact with her during school or I will withdraw you from it. You will accept Finn Hudson's proposal and you will be happy to do so. You have changed since this girl came to town and it is going to stop. Do you hear me?"

The blonde swallowed hard and pulled her feet out of the water.

"Quinn," Rachel let out a little sob. "You don't have to—"

"Not a word!" Russell yelled and Quinn stumbled over to him.

Her father wrapped an arm around her roughly and turned them both back towards town. The blonde craned her neck to look back at the brunette, who stood shaking and obviously crying on the edge of the bridge.

I'm sorry. She mouthed, but she felt sure that Rachel couldn't see it.


Her father kept her home from school the next day; it seemed as though he felt he needed to prove how serious his threat had been. Today she sat at the front of the classroom, far removed from her usual spot, at Miss Pillsbury's request. Finn sat happily next to her, seemingly oblivious to how stiff and formal she was being towards him, and rested his arm across her shoulders. It amazed Quinn how she had never noticed the feeling before, a little recoil in her body when he touched her, and she wondered how she had never realized just how little she wanted him near her. Two days ago she had hoped they would be friends, but now she hated the boy—or at least she hated the situation she was in with him. He smiled at her with a large, goofy grin and she didn't bother to force a smile.

"Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear; she flinched a little as he did so and did not answer.

Finn's eyes were suddenly filled with concern and she motioned to the teacher and then began to pretend she was interested in the day's lesson.

At lunch time, her mother showed up with a basket of food for the both of them; another pointed effort on her parent's part to let her know they were keeping a close watch on her. Quinn smiled and laughed and made pleasant small talk with Finn and her mother as they ate; if her mother hadn't been there, she would have cornered the boy and demanded an explanation of why he went to her father behind her back. Had he done it to force her hand or had he actually convinced himself that Quinn wanted to be back together with him? As her mother packed up the meal and bid them a happy farewell the blonde was ready to turn on him the minute Judy was out of earshot.

"I'm glad you're happier now," Finn said suddenly. "This morning you seemed really upset, but I guess I was wrong. Or maybe you were just hungry; I get grumpy when I'm hungry, too."

"Finn," she snapped and he took a step back, recoiling from her tone.

"What?" he said sheepishly.

Quinn clinched her teeth and tried to clam herself. It didn't matter if her parents saw her yell at him or not, if she didn't do this right, they would still find out about it. She needed to do this calmly, but she wasn't sure she had it in her.

"I don't know what I did wrong," Finn muttered in confusion. "You say you care about me and want us to be close again and so I go practically beg your dad to let us be together and now you're being cold to me again."

"I said I wanted us to be friends because I cared about you." The blonde struggled to keep her voice even.

"No, I'm pretty sure you said close," he replied, scratching his head.

"Close friends," Quinn corrected through clenched teeth.

Finn looked slack jawed at her for a moment and then shook his head. "No. No. I said I was sorry that I got mad at you about what your dad said and that all I could think about was you. Then I kissed your hair and you said it wasn't all my fault and that you didn't feel the same as before and that you wanted us to be close again and you really cared about me."

The blonde let out an exasperated groan and he reached out to comfort her, but she took a quick step back; it was clear that he hadn't done this on purpose, but it didn't make it any easier for her.

"I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay, Finn?" Quinn said slowly.

Finn nodded and she took a deep breath.

"You misunderstood what I was trying to—" she began as patiently as she could.

"They're here!" someone shouted a few feet away.

Quinn turned to see Brittany bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet and waving down the street at several wagons. All of the students were beginning to crowd the sidewalk to watch the wagon train arrive and she felt Finn's hand rest gently on her shoulder.

"Hey!" he said loudly in her ear over the sound of horses and wheels clamoring down the main road. "Guess they made it here early."

With that, he planted a quick kiss on her cheek and dashed off towards the street to join their classmates. Quinn rolled her eyes and tossed her head back in frustration; at the top of the stairs, she saw Rachel looking down at her. The brunette quickly blushed and looked away before darting down the steps and walking into the crowd of people gathering along the sidewalk. The blonde sat down on large rock in the shade of the steps and tried to catch her breath. She was the only one in town who wasn't lined up along the street to great the newcomers; it all seemed so pointless. What did she care about new people in town? The only person she cared about, she couldn't have; even if her father hadn't forbidden her to see Rachel, there would still be nothing to hope for. There was no place in the world for her—she was alone.


"Did he ask you today?" Judy asked casually as Quinn entered the house.

"No," she replied dryly.

"Don't worry, honey, he will," her mother said cheerfully.

It still amazed Quinn how her mother could believe so clearly that her daughter's only concern was when Finn would ask her to marry him. Had her father not told her about it?

"I'm glad they called off school for the rest of the day," her mother continued. "I'm heading out soon with some of the other wives to help cook them meals."

Quinn nodded and took a seat next to her mother in the sitting room.

"I need you to clean off the windows and sweep the walkway." Judy sighed. "Since they paraded the entire wagon train through town, the dust is everywhere."

"Alright," she said softly.

It made no sense; her mother had brought them lunch, so she had to know what had happened the other night.

"Mother," Quinn began but she couldn't think of what to say.

"Yes, dear?" the woman answered absentmindedly.

"Nothing." She shrugged.

"Don't worry so much, Quinn," Judy said softly. "He'll ask you soon enough. I have to admit, I was hoping that you would have news for me when I came over with lunch, but it's still early and perhaps he is just trying to think of an extra special way to propose. Just be patient."

Quinn nodded; her question was answered. Her mother obviously had no idea what had happened.

"Well," the woman sighed as she hopped up onto her feet, "I should be going. The other women are so unorganized and they'll need me to set the pace. How do I look?"

"Lovely," the blonde said with a smile. "As always, mother."

"Thank you, dear." Judy smiled back. "Now remember the windows and the walkway."

"I will," she said as she stood up as well.

Quinn swept the walkway as her mother headed down the street towards a large group of women standing next to a couple of carriages. The blonde ducked back inside and quickly returned with a rag and bucket of water to wash the windows with; she was happy to have busy work to occupy her mind with, but it didn't last for long. Soon, not only the front windows, but every window to the house was sparkling and still dripping with water and she emptied the bucket into the garden. Quinn walked quickly into the kitchen to find something else to do, but all the dishes had been cleaned and were neatly stacked in their shelves. The blonde collected the bucket again and headed into the back yard and filled it at the pump; she collected a scrub brush in the small back room and made her way to the front door. She was halfway through scrubbing the long hallway when the tears started to fall again; she grunted and tried to force out the train of thought that had started them up again.

It was better that she marry Finn, she insisted to herself, because even if the marriage had no love in it, he would treat her kindly and it would be pure. After all, what good would it do not to marry him? Quinn knew now who she was in love with and it could never be, so there was no sense in even thinking about it. There wasn't any sense in holding out for someone new; she wouldn't love them either, so Finn was her only option—possibly her only salvation from the hell she heard about every week. Quinn told herself that even if she were free to be friends with Rachel, that's all it would ever be. How could it be anything more than that? Once she was married and out of her father's house, she would be a woman and Finn would not object to her friendship with Rachel—he had always encouraged it. Rachel would marry someone and they could grow old as friends; they could watch their children play together as they grew up.

The thought of the brunette falling in love with someone sent an uneasy jolt down her spine and she pounded her fist down on the wet floor beneath her. She needed a friend; she needed someone to talk to, but there was no one she could tell about this. The blonde chucked the scrub brush down in the bucket and covered her face in her hands.

Quinn stood up and turned, leaving the bucket of water in the middle of the hall as she exited the back door. She couldn't tell anyone what she was feeling or why, but she could still seek comfort in Brittany, who never asked too many questions, and it would be at least a small comfort. The blonde let herself in through the back door of the Pierce house and tiptoed to her friend's bedroom door; their home was in the back of the tailor shop and she knew that Mr. and Mrs. Pierce would still be busy up front with customers. She knocked lightly at the girl's bedroom door and turned the knob without waiting for an answer.

Quinn barely had the door open when she spotted Brittany and Santana; she froze and pulled the door back, peeking through the small crack to be sure that what she had actually seen was real. The blonde reasoned that the stress must be making her crazy, but when she peered through the small sliver of space to double check, she realized she was not mistaken. Brittany sat at the edge of her bed while Santana leaned down, her olive toned fingers woven into the other girl's blonde hair, and was kissing her fully on the mouth. The sitting girl leaned forward into the kiss and gripped the quilt beneath her tightly.

She batted her hazel eyes and covered her mouth as she slowly eased the door shut again. The backdoor slammed behind her as she left and she stumbled along the side of the building, her face flushed scarlet and her eyes fixed on her destination—the Berry Alehouse and Inn.


I hope the chapter wasn't too depressing. It was a hard chapter to write and I tapped into a bit of personal experience for some of it. That being said any critique or concerns with the writing are welcome as always as well as any thoughts you might have (good or bad). Let me know what you think in comment or pm and once again; thanks for reading.

Professions has it's first story out and the second is in the works for the end of February (with fingers crossed) and votes for the story concept for March are taking place on my tumbler and wordpress (there is a poll). So feel free to participate.