Hey all!
So here's a funny thing that happened to me this week: when my friends and I were watching Glee on Tuesday night, during the scene at Sectionals where they're watching the Unitards perform (led by the "Gerber Baby" girl from the Glee Project), when Kurt leans over and whispers to Rachel, "This is excruciating," and she whispers back, "I know! I should be singing this song!" My brain said, "No Rachel, don't talk, you're gonna hurt your voice!" ...Then I remembered that the inside of my head is not canon. I think that was the first time I ever genuinely forgot that. Kind of hilarious!
And I was a little surprised that no one got my faberry/klaine song stealing question from last week, since so many of y'all messaged me in extreme excitement when punk!Quinn came to town, remembering that I had (inadvertently) predicted it in the last season of TMAIA (chapter 42), and wondering if I had magical powers or advanced copies of scripts. I have neither! But I do have vision for these characters we love so much...and it seems that many of the adorable gay couple songs I've picked out for faberry have also appealed to the writers for klaine. Here they are, for those who were curious (all from last season of TMAIA): Teenage Dream (chp. 19), Baby it's Cold Outside (chp. 26), & Fuckin' Perfect (chp. 45). I do feel it's worth pointing out that I thought of all these songs first! The Glee writers totally stole 'em from me ;)
Well that was certainly a long author's note. On with the faberry! Enjoy :)
…...
Take Me As I Am
Season 3
Chapter 9: Arroz con Leche
…...
Quinn was still puffy-eyed and sniffling when she got home, but managed to slip upstairs unnoticed by her mom, who was either in bed already or else still cavorting with her gentleman caller. Either way, Quinn didn't care—she just wanted to be left alone to cry without anyone trying to make her feel better. Rachel was in pain and all alone, and wouldn't allow any help or comfort, and now Sectionals was in jeopardy as well. That, frankly, wouldn't ruffle Quinn's feathers all that much if not for the fact that it was so important to Rachel, too.
This, Quinn knew, was one of her girlfriend's biggest nightmare scenarios; it wasn't hard to recall how hard the little starlet had fought against having surgery the last time her tonsils had flared up two years ago, convinced it would impair her singing voice and possibly ruin her career before it even began. And while the blonde girl trusted Rachel's dad when he told her that everything would be just fine, she also knew that Rachel didn't believe that; and that was what caused Quinn the awful, stabbing pain in her chest as she slipped quietly into her room and curled up in bed, sobbing into her pillow.
Certainly, their relationship had survived some awful fights in the past; they'd been together more than two years, after all, and they'd always managed to weather the storm. But this didn't feel like a fight. It wasn't Rachel being mad at her that hurt; it was Rachel's pain, Rachel's suffering, that Quinn felt acutely in the pit of her stomach. She just wanted the chance to offer comfort, to cuddle and soothe her sweet baby, make her tea and rub her back and sing her to sleep, the way Rachel always did when she was sick. Not being allowed to do those things made her feel useless and broken, and tied her stomach up in knots so severe, Quinn actually felt like she might throw up. She hugged her pillow tighter, curled up in the middle of her bed in a sobbing ball of misery, when a soft knock sounded on her door.
"Q? You okay, mija? I'm coming in." Santana's voice was gentler than usual; a moment later, Quinn felt her friend's warm weight sinking into the mattress beside her, and a hand slip up the back of her sweatshirt, lightly rubbing her back in soothing circles. "Talk to me, chica. Did you have a fight with Thumbelina? Whatever it is, you know she'll see sense and beg your forgiveness by morning. She couldn't stay mad at you if her life depended on it."
"No, it's not that," Quinn sniffled, finally raising her head from the tearstained pillow. "Sh-she's sick and she has to have her tonsils out and she w-won't let me in 'cause she doesn't want me to catch it, and she's just s-so upset, I j-just wanna help..."
"Whoa, whoa, shhh," Santana murmured, reaching over for a tissue from the bedside table and handing it to her shaking friend. "Cálmate, mija, calm down..." Quinn took the offering and clumsily wiped her tear-streaked face and runny nose, trying to ease her jagged breathing while Santana rubbed her back and stroked her hair without saying a word.
"Thanks," Quinn sighed woozily, when she was sure she was all cried out. "Sorry for unloading on you like that, San."
"Q, please. I'm living in your house. How many times have I unravelled on you? And you always listen, you always help, even when I'm a complete puta. I think you and your girl both have the same problem, you know?"
"Oh yeah? What's that?" Quinn chuckled wearily, taking a fresh tissue and dabbing at her red eyes.
"You love taking care of other people, but you have a damn hard time letting anyone else take care of you when you need it," Santana shrugged, as if it were obvious. Which, Quinn realized as soon as it had been said, it totally was.
"I just don't like feeling like a burden on anyone else...except Rachel, I guess," Quinn shrugged, looking down at her hands with a soft sniffle of embarrassment. "It reminds me of how I felt when my parents kicked me out...before she rode in on her white horse and saved me...I felt so alone and so scared and so abandoned, but I just couldn't bear to ask anyone for help. I didn't want to be a charity case."
"I'm really sorry, Q," Santana said quietly, reaching out and tucking a stray lock of mussed blonde hair back behind Quinn's ear. "I should've been there for you. I should've been the one to look out for you, after all the years we've been friends. But I was selfish and screwed up, and I didn't wanna deal with my mom freaking out about teen pregnancy if I brought you home knocked up and homeless. And now here I am, depending on you, when I've never given you any reason to depend on me. Why do you put up with me, seriously? Why does anyone?"
"For the same reason everyone put up with me when I was a scary bitch," Quinn shrugged, smiling weakly and poking her best friend between the ribs. "Because they can see through all the crazy to the awesomeness inside, and they're willing to wait it out. Plus, you're kind of fun to have around." Santana snickered, and Quinn's sad smile widened until she found herself giggling, too, releasing some of the stress and tension her body was holding onto so tightly.
"Thanks, mija. I'm really sorry about Rachel. So I guess this means she can't sing at Sectionals, huh? She's gonna be okay, though, right?"
"Yeah, I think so," Quinn sighed, lying back down on her tearstained pillow and curling up with her forehead pressed against Santana's leg, wrapping one arm loosely around her friend's knee. Santana didn't object to being used as a life-sized stuffed animal substitute, and began quietly running her fingers through Quinn's pink-streaked hair. "But she's not okay now. And being shut out like this...it hurts worse than when she's furious and screaming at me. It physically hurts, San. Like someone just reached in and ripped out my guts."
"Lovely image," Santana snorted. "Look babe, I know how you feel—I'd feel the same way if it was Britt. Hell, I have felt the same way. You think I bought her that damn stuffed duck because I thought it was cute? I hate that kind of cutesy crap. But she was hurt and in pain, and I knew it would make her feel better when nothing else did. Love makes us all a little crazy. That's all this is, you know—she's just trying to protect you. It's stupid, but I get it. She's been protecting you ever since you guys got together. It comes as naturally to her as it does to me with Britt."
"Yeah," Quinn sighed, rubbing her stinging eyes as wave of exhaustion rolled over her. "But she's not protecting me, she just thinks she is. I'd rather catch her stupid germs than have to feel like this."
"I know, mija. And after this is over and she's back to her old self, you'll tell her that, and she'll understand, and maybe your relationship will even be stronger because of it. But she can't hear you right now, while she's all sick and stressed and freaked out. You gotta let her deal on her own, just for a little while...show her she can trust you, the way you always trust her."
"Mmm," Quinn murmured, yawning softly as her tired eyes slowly drifted shut. "You're smart, San..."
"Yeah, I know. You'd be lost without me," Santana teased gently, continuing to stroke Quinn's silk-soft hair as another woozy yawn gripped the blonde girl's limp body. "Want me to go turn off the lights so you can go to sleep, querida?"
"No...stay," Quinn murmured, not bothering to open her eyes. "Sing me a lullaby, San? Just...couple more minutes..."
"Sure thing," Santana smiled softly, though Quinn couldn't see it. She wouldn't sing any of the love songs she sang for Brittany of course; and though it made her a little sad to think about her mom, she couldn't help but smile when the memory of some of her own favorite childhood lullabies popped into her head. Quietly, Santana began to sing.
Arroz con leche, me quiero casar
con una señorita de la capital,
que sepa coser,
que sepa contar,
que sepa abrir la puerta
para ir a jugar.
Yo soy la viudita, del barrio del rey,
Me quiero casar y no hallo con quien:
con este, si, con este, no;
contigo, mi vida, me casare yo.
…...
The glee club was extremely sympathetic when Quinn told them about Rachel's tonsil woes the next day; Mercedes and Tina suggested they all go cheer the sick girl up with a surprise visit after practice, and everyone agreed enthusiastically before Quinn explained glumly that they'd never be allowed in the door, as Rachel was currently ensconced in a self-imposed quarantine to protect the rest of them for Sectionals—besides which, she was already at the hospital undergoing surgery. They were all surprised and touched by the selfless gesture, and Mr. Schue declared that the best thing they could do now to make their star feel better was to put together an amazing show at Sectionals, so that when she got back, they could greet her with good news and look forward to Regionals together.
They spent the rest of practice hashing out a Rachel-free set list, finally agreeing on the iconic Thriller/Heads Will Roll mashup from last year, which they'd all loved and had never performed for a competition; along with a new but equally powerful Adele mashup of Rumor Has It and Someone Like You that Mercedes and Santana had been working on together for a possible glee club benefit concert.
It was, in fact, a pretty amazing set list, and even without Rachel, they all felt confident and excited about getting back in the saddle for their first competition of the year. After rehearsal was over, Quinn went straight to the hospital, where Rachel was fast asleep in a private room in the recovery wing, with her anxious dads flipping mindlessly through old magazines while they kept watch over her.
"Hi," Quinn whispered, afraid to wake the sleeping girl as she tiptoed in. The two Mr. Berrys smiled warmly when they saw her, both of them hugging her tightly before offering her a chair by Rachel's bedside. "She's so pale," Quinn murmured worriedly, reaching out and stroking a lock of dark hair back from her girlfriend's pallid face, a stark contrast to her usual golden olive skin tone. "Is that normal?"
"Very," Michael assured her in his soothing baritone. "The surgery went perfectly, honey, she'll be good as new in a couple of weeks. She'll just have a very sore throat for a few days, and we'll need to keep her hydrated and doped up on painkillers until it passes." Quinn nodded, unable to stop herself from stroking Rachel's hair and cheek as she slept peacefully in the stark white hospital bed. Though it had in fact only been a couple of days since they'd seen each other, it felt like much longer to the worried blonde girl, and she couldn't help herself from taking comfort in warm, solid touch, even if Rachel wasn't awake to enjoy it.
The anesthesia kept the dark-haired girl deeply asleep through the rest of the evening, and after a couple of hours, Jacob went out and brought back a pizza for them to share while they all kept watch over the unconscious girl. Finally, a little after 9pm, Rachel stirred, whimpered, and opened her heavy eyes.
"Hi, angel," Quinn cooed softly, scooting her chair as close to the bed as humanly possible, leaning over her girlfriend's sleep-warmed body to kiss her forehead and stroke her hair. "I missed those big brown eyes...don't worry, the doctor said you're not contagious anymore. How do you feel?" Rachel whimpered softly, and for a second Quinn thought her girlfriend was going to throw up on her; but she still couldn't bring herself to move. She'd rather be close to Rachel and get hurled on than be safely out of the way if it meant moving from her spot by the bed.
But, Rachel didn't puke. She just rubbed her throat, and with a pained expression, her sleepy eyes filled up with tears. "Does your throat hurt very badly, pumpkin?" Michael asked, sitting on the other side of the bed with Jacob. Rachel nodded woozily, reaching out and squeezing her dad's hand, hard, as if to convey some slight measure of the pain she was feeling. "It's all right, sweetheart, it's gonna feel better soon," Michael hummed reassuringly, picking up a little plastic button beside the bed, attached to the end of an IV that was hooked up to the crook of Rachel's inner arm. "This is a morphine pump. You just push this button anytime the pain is bad, and it'll send a nice, big dose of happy juice straight into your bloodstream. Okay, princess?"
Rachel nodded, blinking sleepily, and jabbed the button. A moment later, she visibly relaxed, a soft sigh of relief escaping her lips. She looked back over at Quinn, and with a woozy, drugged smile, pointed to the spot beside her on the bed.
"Can I?" Quinn asked Jacob and Michael uncertainly, worried about accidentally hurting Rachel when she looked so frail.
"Of course, sweetheart. Cuddle away," Jacob said warmly, with a little wink. "We'll leave you two alone for a few minutes...then I think you need to get yourself home and get a good night's sleep, Quinnie. Can't have you making yourself sick from exhaustion, either."
"'Kay," Quinn smiled gratefully, climbing carefully into bed beside her girlfriend, who immediately snuggled up against her. "Sweet baby girl," Quinn murmured, curling up on her side and throwing one leg possessively over Rachel's, pressing her forehead to her girlfriend's temple and gently stroking her hair. "You're okay now, you're gonna be fine. Everyone in glee misses you. They made you a card..." Quinn leaned over and grabbed the large, homemade get well card off the bedside table, showing Rachel the gold-star decorated cover and then reading each of their friends' messages aloud.
"I'm not allowed to stay here overnight, but I'll see you tomorrow after school, when you're home. Okay starlight?" Rachel nodded sleepily. "I love you so, so much, Rach..." Quinn leaned up on her elbow, and began planting soft kisses all over Rachel's pale face. As the blonde girl sat up and stretched, preparing to go, the sleepy starlet grabbed her shirt, tugging urgently on her sleeve.
"What is it, baby? Are you in pain? Should I get your dads?" Quinn asked worriedly. Rachel shook her head. I'm sorry, she mouthed carefully, squeezing Quinn's arm. "Aww, honey, I know," the blonde girl sighed softly, beaming as she crawled back to the warm spot she'd just left and pressed another kiss to her girlfriend's forehead. "It's okay Rach, shh, don't worry about anything right now. I'm not mad. You're okay, and that's all that matters. Just try to rest, okay love? And maybe if you're feeling a little better by Saturday, I can convince your dads to let you come watch us at Sectionals."
Rachel nodded happily, and Quinn reluctantly left her with a final kiss, and a very gentle hug. The blonde girl hated to think about sleeping alone in her bed tonight, knowing Rachel was here, recovering from a painful surgery in an uncomfortable bed with over-starched sheets. At least her dads were here to watch over her...and, Quinn knew, if she couldn't sleep herself, she could always climb into bed with Santana and ask for another lullaby.
