Hi everyone! Wow I have so much to say but am not sure where to start... it's been forever since I updated this story. And by forever, I mean much, MUCH too long. I've felt guilty over it for quite some time, because I really do love writing this particular story. I've been stuck in a bit of a writer's block and have had some trouble getting going. But after the 100th episode, I started gaining back some of my inspiration! So hopefully it sticks with me :)
I wrote the beginning of this chapter several times, but ended up going back to my original idea. It's a shorter chapter, but I think it will explain some necessary things, while being a bit of a turning point for the characters. I hope you'll like it!
To those who messaged me about this story, thank you so much for your support and dedication! And to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted or come across this story in any way, thank you with all my heart. Hopefully the next update will not be so irregular. I know most people probably gave up on this story, but I hope there are a few people out there who will still read it xxx
Quinn stares out her window, watching the birds outside fly further and further away. They are going south for the winter. She finds herself jealous. Jealous that they get to leave this cold, miserable place, while she's stuck. They are going somewhere nice, somewhere better. She is not. In two hours and 35 minutes, she will be checking in to a rehab facility. The thought along makes her want to scream.
She flinches slightly as Rachel turns around and places a hand on her thigh for comfort. Quinn quickly shrugs it off. She doesn't want sympathy or concern. She hates the pity. She hates all of it really. Hates that Rachel and Finn keep forcing food on her. Hates that they keep giving her sympathy glances when they think she's not looking. Hates that she's going to some stupid rehab centre in Cincinnati. She hates all of it, especially herself.
Her hands grip the leather seat of the car so hard that it feels like she will permanently leave a mark.
She glances up and catches Finn staring at her in the rearview mirror again. She doesn't make eye contact. Instead, she averts her eyes sharply, focusing on anything but him.
"Hey Quinn, do you want anything?" Rachel asks, gesturing to the run down gas station outside.
"No. Thanks."
"Are you sure? You should really have something."
"I'm fine Rachel," Quinn snaps.
"Okay...are you going to be okay here?"
"For the love of God Rachel, you're going to be gone for five minutes. I'll be fine. Plus Puck is here. It's not like I'm going to kill myself or anything."
Rachel flinches, but Quinn doesn't look away. She knows her words were harsh, but she feels better having said them.
"I know," Rachel responds quietly, "I just wanted to make sure."
She cares, they all care. Quinn knows that, but sometimes it makes things even worse. She almost wishes no one cared. It would be easier that way.
"Thanks Rach, but I promise I'll be fine. We'll be there soon anyways," she answers again, this time a bit softer. She can feel Rachel's concerned eyes on hers as Quinn turns away from the window. She can't tell which is worse – meeting Rachel's gaze or Puck's.
Quinn sighs and closes her eyes for a brief second, trying to forget everything: the hospital, the phone calls, the piece of toast Rachel made her eat for breakfast, the strange glances Puck keeps shooting her. Everything. She tries to thinks back to a time where she didn't feel this way. But nothing comes up. Everything is a blank. Maybe it's better this way, she decides. Maybe she erased everything else on purpose. Maybe forgetting is easier than remembering.
She closes her eyes, and it all comes back to her. Flashes of that day run through her mind like it's a movie. But this time she is the star.
"No, please not tonight," she pleads, pushing him away gently. "I've got too much to do for tomorrow."
A shove on her already tender arm.
"But I love you, I love YOU Quinn. Darling, don't do this to me again..."
"I'm not doing anything..."
"But I love you, don't you want to be together?"
"Of course, but –"
A slap across her face.
A flash of bright light.
A slip on the carpet – or was it a push?
An attempt to break her fall with the edge of the coffee table.
A trickle of blood runs down her leg.
Colds shards of glass dig into her hand.
"Oh my god, oh my god... I'm so sorry Quinn," Colin's voice echoes in the distance.
He grabs her hand, but she immediately jerks it back.
"I'm so sorry darling, I didn't mean it," he pleads, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She flinches, backing away from him.
"I love you Quinn, I'm so sorry..."
Her vision is blurry, but she sees a hand. Her hand.
Tiny pieces of glass prick her delicate skin. Bubbles of blood forms at the surface.
"Please forgive me, please!"
She shakes her head, tears falling down her cheeks.
Quinn, Quinn!"
"Quinn?"
The sound of Puck's voice snaps her back to reality. Her face still stings. She looks down at her hand. It's fine.
She feels herself take a deep, albeit shaky, breath.
It was a dream, she tells herself. It was just a dream. It wasn't real. Except once it was real. It wasn't always just a nightmare.
She suddenly feels light-headed. The world is spinning around her, and she grabs on to the handle of the door, desperately trying to get it open.
She throws her weight against it, and it shoves open just in time. She quickly bends over, the gravel scraping her knees, as she pukes up the remains of her breakfast onto the walkway.
"Quinn!" Puck says, his urgent but gentle voice coming from behind her. She can feel the warmth of his hand on the back of her neck as he pulls her hair away from her face.
A sob escapes her lips. She bends over; her breathing quickly becomes heavy and uneven. She closes her eyes, trying to regain focus but all she can see is her hand pricked with blood, shards of glass sticking out at odd angles.
Suddenly, Quinn breaks out into tears. Violent sobs rack her body, and she kneels over in pain as the memories bear down on her. Her breathing becomes more and more ragged as she clutches her chest, desperately inhaling for air that never seems to come.
She is shaking as her sobs become more and more intense. Tears stream down her face, while she grasps for air.
She feels a pair of arms embrace her from behind. She flinches, thinking that it's Colin. She tries to push him away, but he is stronger and resists her efforts, pulling her closer instead. After a few seconds, she gives up and collapses against the body. She is too weak to fight back for any longer. Quinn instantly braces herself, fearing Colin's rough actions and harsh words. But they never come. Instead, she feels strong, gentle arms envelope her from behind.
Puck.
It hits her suddenly. But it doesn't really surprise her.
The warmth of his body radiates onto hers. She feels safe, like nothing could harm her here. And for once, she doesn't push him away. She lets herself fall into his embrace, as he cradles her closer to his body. His breathing is even and steady, and she feels herself start to mimic his inhales and exhales.
"It's okay," Puck's voice whispers soothingly against her ear. "It's okay Q."
She pulls away slightly. His black t-shirt is wet from her tears.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, looking up at him through glossy eyes.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't ever be sorry for that," he replies gently.
She bites down on her lip, looking away from his steady gaze.
It's been so long since they've been like this. Since they've actually been friends...been normal around each other.
For a second, it's like nothing happened - like years hadn't passed, like people hadn't changed and like their lives hadn't gotten screwed over.
Quinn pulls away slowly, brushing off her dress as she stands up.
Following her lead, Puck does the same.
"Here," he says, holding out his clean, grey sweatshirt.
Again, Quinn bites down on her lip. She hesitates slightly before accepting it.
"Thanks," she replies.
For a few seconds, they stand staring at each other.
Both want to say something, but aren't sure what.
Puck gives a slight nod, opening his mouth to say something. But he is cut off by the sound of Rachel running towards them.
"Oh my god, what happened out here?" she asks, rushing forward to Quinn. In a motherly gesture, she presses her hand against Quinn's forehead.
"It's nothing, I'm fine."
Rachel and Finn steal a glance at each other; a look of concern is etched on both of their faces.
Quinn watches as Finn opens his mouth to speak, turning to Puck in the process. But Quinn quickly injects, stopping him in his tracks.
"Seriously, it's fine. Let's just go."
She's the first to climb back into the car, pulling off her yellow cardigan and swapping it for the sweatshirt.
It smells like him. A pang of heartache hits her like a bolt of lightening. If she focuses hard enough, it almost feels like nothing has changed between them,
Quinn must still be caught up in the past, because she turns to him first. It's the first time that she's really, truly looked him in the eye.
"I'm sorry that you probably smell like vomit now," she admits quietly, slightly embarrassed at her accident.
Puck looks over at her, smiling at the image of her wearing his sweatshirt. He throws his head back slightly, laughing at her statement. In this moment, she almost seems okay. He finds it difficult to tear his eyes away from her.
His laughter catches her off guard; it's been years since she heard him laugh. And once again, it sends her flying back in time. But this time the memory isn't a bad one, even if it is a little tainted.
Puck shakes his head, "It's okay, really. It's nothing I haven't smelt like before."
Quinn finds herself smiling too, a giggle almost escaping her lips. Almost.
They both look over at one another. For the briefest of seconds, their eyes lock. It's so quick that one might wonder if it even happened. But it was something. And something is always better than nothing.
