Special thanks to everyone who has left a review since the previous chapter was posted:
kaelaelameee, LovezFanFic, awnrw4eva, Twi-Ranger, Harley Quinn Davidson, gllover22, fridaglee17, ScorpioP, and 2 Guests (loo and polux)
Your support is greatly appreciated, along with the support of everybody who has followed this story and/or added it to their favorites.
I would also like to thank ScorpioP for again offering some in-depth critique on the story.
Also, for anybody worrying (loo or any others), I won't be posting any author's note as enormous as that one last time. It did take up too much room.
Chapter 8: Imagine
Rachel stared blankly at the Kindle app on her phone. The screen would keep on shutting off, no doubt disillusioned with the possibility of her doing anything, only to be awoken again and again. Every time, she would still find the Kindle app sitting there primly, mocking her with the "NEW" tag on its corner.
There was also the Amazon app there, but the personal symbolism wasn't quite so heavy with that one, so she didn't pay it much mind.
She wondered what exactly was in Quinn's book that she didn't want Rachel to read. She said it was a very personal story to her. Personal how? What did it talk about?
She had a feeling she knew.
The backdoor slid open, Kurt shuffling inside. She glanced at him, sighed, and then returned her attention to her phone.
"Puck texted back," she told Kurt. He paused in his closing of the door. "He said that he's with her and will let us know when she's feeling better."
Kurt gave a small nod. He stood there awkwardly for a moment before walking over and sitting down next to Rachel on the couch.
The majority of people had scattered throughout the backyard, leaving the living room to Rachel alone. They were recovering, coping in their own ways, talking with their friends as they all tried to reconcile with what Quinn had revealed. Rachel was grateful for the space. It had given her time to think.
"I still can't believe it," she said quietly to Kurt. "I thought that her liking me was the whole thing, so I didn't ask or say anything to you guys... I thought it was cute, you know? That she didn't want to me know, that you and Santana were so scared of me knowing. I thought you guys were just overreacting, and that I could surprise her and be like... like... God, I don't even know."
She dropped her head into her hands, nose pressing up against the screen of her phone. "I should've known, I should've... asked you guys, or—or something. I just... I had no idea that... I never thought that she would have ever tried to..."
She couldn't help it anymore and released a small sob. Kurt's arms were fast to embrace her, holding her tight against him.
"Rach, I'm so sorry, honey," Kurt said. "It's my fault Quinn found out like she did. Santana was planning to tell her, I know she was, but..."
She shook her head. "It's not your fault. Quinn's too smart, it's no wonder she picked up on you knowing so quick. You didn't do anything wrong."
She wanted to add something on to the end there, something about how it wasn't Santana's fault either, but a part of Rachel did blame her. The same part was disgusted with how she had been treating Dani going by what Quinn had said, but another part of her was quietly digesting just how much not being with Brittany had affected Santana. Even with all the drunken nights, she couldn't have fathomed how deep it ran.
She looked over Kurt's shoulder out into the backyard. Santana was sitting in a chair on the patio, staring at the illuminated pool. An icepack had been laid petulantly on the table beside her, which served as no shock. What did surprise Rachel was that Santana was sitting out there alone.
"Where's Brittany?" she asked, head resting against Kurt's shoulder.
"She took off – I don't know where. She said something to Santana about having to go somewhere, and then she started talking about Lord Tubbington and my mind tuned everything after that out."
She frowned. That didn't sound very much like Brittany, to leave Santana there while she was hurting. Still, Brittany had always been the expert about what Santana needed, so Rachel supposed she would have to trust that Brittany was doing what she knew was best.
"What have you been doing in here with your phone all this time?" Kurt asked, pulling back and fishing a handkerchief out of one of his pockets.
She accepted the handkerchief with a small "thanks." "Quinn told me that she had written a book," she explained after having finished blowing her nose. "But she said that it was very personal to her and that she didn't want me to read it—"
"So you've been debating whether or not to read it," Kurt finished for her, smiling slightly.
She huffed, but her face quickly dropped again. "I know I shouldn't. She's already had far too many of her private affairs exposed against her will, and I told her that I wouldn't read it until she wanted me to. I'm not sure if it's helping or hurting me to imagine what she wrote, but it's all I can do. I just want to know what she's been going through. It feels like everybody does but me. You, Santana, apparently Brittany since she was the one helping Quinn during the memorial, and I'm sure Puck is now finding out all about it, but I don't know anything. It's altogether selfish, but I still want to know. I don't know how much longer I can stand not knowing."
Her words were coming out faster now, her body starting to quiver. "I keep on imagining it: imagining her laying in a tub full of b-blood, or standing on a c-c-chair with a—with a noose around her—with her just—God, I can't stop imagining her face when she was doing it, can't stop imagining what she was thinking, how alone she must have been to even consider it—and I can't stop wondering if I could have done something, anything to—to—"
Kurt's arms were around her again, and this time her sobs didn't stop.
"Oh, sweetie," he whispered, his own tears starting to fall. "I can't say I know how Quinn's mind works, but if I had to guess I'd say that this is why she didn't want you to know. She knew you would blame yourself, because that's the kind of person you are. It's not your fault, Rach. What almost happened is completely on her, and she knows that, and she would want you to know that above everything else."
"But I have to know! I have to know why—why would she do something like trying to—why would she do that? You have to tell me, Kurt," she begged, arms wrapped painfully around him. "She said—she said something about what she was doing on the day that she got the... the call about Finn dying. A-And something about coming out to her parents, and I guess—I mean, obviously they were too big of bigots to be supportive in the slightest to their own daughter, but I—I have to know, Kurt. Please."
"I can't, Rachel," Kurt told her, sounding like the words were physically painful to him. "She has to be the one to tell you—"
"She tried by slitting her wrists."
Rachel nearly threw Kurt to the floor in her haste to spin around. Standing there in the doorway, Brittany held a faraway gaze.
"What—"
"She was laying in her bed, not the bathtub though," Brittany continued, her monotone voice cutting Rachel off. "I asked her roommate one day while I was staying with them, after Quinn said it was okay. She said it was okay for me to tell you this too, in case you were worried that she didn't say it was okay or something."
Rachel swallowed, her mouth suddenly more dry than she could ever remember it being. Images of Quinn assaulted her mind, of her lying alone on her bed with blood gushing out of her arms.
She tried to open her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Kurt seemed to know what question she wanted to ask, however.
"You went to go see Quinn?" he asked, standing up.
"Yep."
"How is she?" came another voice – Santana, standing in the frame of the door.
Brittany smiled at her. "She's doing better. She asked the same thing about you. She's super sorry about all the stuff she said. And also for hitting you."
Santana shook her head quickly, like the apology was unnecessary, but they could all see the tears that collected in her eyes.
"Anyway, she didn't want you guys to worry about her, so she asked me to come tell you how she's doing, 'cause she doesn't think she'd handle everything really well right now. Puck's keeping her company, in case you were worried about her trying to kill herself again—" Rachel made a sobbing noise at this, "—but that's stupid to worry about. She was in a super bad place when she tried to kill herself, like totes-super-sad-bad place, and she was really super drunk too. She wouldn't try anything like that ever again.
"But anyway, Quinn knew that Rachel would have a ton of questions," she continued, smiling at Rachel. "So she wanted me to tell you anything you want to know. So what do you want to know?"
Rachel stood perfectly still for a long time, simply staring at Brittany as she continued to indulge Rachel with a smile. Kurt and Santana stood off to the sides, both holding their breaths as they watched her.
It suddenly occurred to Rachel how much Quinn was trusting her, moments before she spoke.
"Everything," she said with complete certainty. "I want to know everything."
Brittany frowned. "But I don't know everything. Like how they make tofu, or why you're so short. I guess they could have something to do with each other, like maybe they took stuff from you to make tofu and that made you not grow, but—"
"About Quinn!" Rachel screeched. "About what happened to her!"
"Oh," Brittany said, nodding. There was a knowing smile on her face, though. "Okay. Santy might need to help out a bit, but I think I can do that. You should sit down, though. It's a super long story."
About my next story:
So thanks again to ScorpioP (I'm imagining saying this for every chapter now) for the musings about There Was a Soul Here. The exact timing of when the story takes place would be part of the mystery of the story, to be revealed as it goes along, but it is slightly AU (the details of which would be revealed as it went along).
The next story concept I have is called: The Wicked Witch.
It takes place within the universe of the web serial novel Worm, where people with superpowers (called "parahumans" in-universe) are a plenty. The Protectorate is the official coalition of superheroes in North America, where they work with the government. There are three classifications for parahumans: Heroes (those working for the Protectorate to fight crime), Rogues (those who use their powers for work in private industries, such as bodyguards or mascots), and Villains (those who use their powers for illegal purposes).
Rachel's fathers are severely ill, and Rachel is secretly a parahuman. So she decides to become a small-time villain under the identity of "The Wicked Witch" in order to secure further income to pay for their medical treatment, laundering the money through her tips at a waitress job. However, she has to deal with the team of Wards (under-18 superheroes who work for the Protectorate) in Lima, led by the enigmatic Ace and backed-up by her teammates: Sprite and Chronometer. What's more, more villains are arriving on the scene, and Rachel is unsure of how to deal with them.
And what's more, Rachel's power has a far more insidious use which she does not care for, but if the Protectorate finds out, will they consider her too big of a threat to let live?
So that's the concept for The Wicked Witch. I think I'm gonna eventually post this one if only because I'm a big fan of Worm and want to write something set in its universe. But leave this story a review and tell me what you think about the concept. Sometimes I gain really good insight on what to write just based off random comments people leave.
The next concept summary, that I will post at the end of "What Happened" on Monday, has the working title of A Dream In Ruins. It would be a mix of AU and future-fic, and it would be more of an angsty fic.
