The light had just begun to creep in through the curtains, casting a faint light on the girl sleeping beside Rachel. She had been awake for a short while already, simply taking in the sight of Quinn laying flat on her back, still wrapped in the arms of sleep.
Quinn had fallen asleep shortly before the movie had ended the night before. Rachel had been unable to wake her girlfriend though—she just looked too peaceful. But now that the hours had passed and Quinn's makeup had smudged, that look of peacefulness was tainted. As the light filtered in through the window, Rachel detected discoloration on Quinn's face, and it made her stomach drop.
Without thinking, she reached out and lightly traced her fingers over Quinn's face—over her bruises—causing the girl to stir from her slumber.
Quinn rolled over on her side to face Rachel, her eyes fluttering open. She didn't miss the flash of pain that shown in hazel irises.
"Hi," Rachel said softly.
"Hey," Quinn replied groggily.
"Did you sleep well?"
Quinn hummed in response and closed her eyes again. "What time is it?"
"6:23."
"Why are you up so early on a Saturday?"
"I always wake up at 6am sharp every morning to exercise. Of course, you laying in my bed distracted me."
Quinn smirked but didn't open her eyes again. "I tend to have that effect."
Rachel rolled her eyes even though Quinn couldn't see her. "Always the charmer."
"You love it."
"Now I do."
Quinn cracked an eye open at that. "What changed?" she asked curiously.
"You want my honest answer?" Rachel asked, pushing herself up to sit on her bed.
Quinn slowly turned onto her back once again, wincing as she did.
"That's why," Rachel replied sadly, gesturing toward her girlfriend's body.
"Huh?" Quinn asked, growing even more confused.
Rachel sighed. "Because now I know what you're hiding beneath all that cockiness."
Quinn's face fell in understanding. "Oh."
Upon seeing her girlfriend's reaction, Rachel immediately felt like an idiot for bringing the mood down first thing in the morning. This weekend was supposed to be about allowing Quinn time to relax. But before she could apologize, Quinn had started to speak.
"It's funny," she said, her lip quirking into a self-deprecating smile. "I was afraid that you wouldn't like me if you knew how much of a screw up I really am when, really, you didn't like the person I wish I was."
"Quinn, you are not a screw up," Rachel said adamantly. "You're amazing and wonderful, and anyone who would hurt you is the screw up."
"If anyone is amazing and wonderful, it's you," Quinn said shaking her head and giving her a tearful smile, before reaching out and grabbing her hand. "Even if you insist on having conversations that are way too serious for a Saturday morning," she added, bringing some levity to the moment.
Rachel bit her lower lip bashfully. "Sorry about that. I tend to speak before I think, especially when it comes to things I care about."
"I know," Quinn said, smiling up at her. "That's something I've always liked about you."
"Really?" Rachel asked, melting a bit at the compliment.
Quinn hummed in affirmation as she drew Rachel's hand up to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "I'm lucky to have you as my girlfriend."
Rachel beamed at her girlfriend before leaning down to kiss her cheek. "I'm pretty lucky too. And I promise to make sure you enjoy the rest of your time at La Casa Berry."
"Hey, Coach," Quinn greeted as she stepped into the small office within the girls locker room.
"How are you feeling today, Q?" Coach Castle asked, looking up from the desk. "And tell me the truth."
Quinn's frustration was evident. "I know how important this game is. I want to play."
"I don't doubt your dedication to this team," Coach cut her off. "I know how badly you want to play. That's not what I'm questioning. Tell me how you feel."
"Like I did yesterday," she admitted begrudgingly. Truthfully, it actually hurt more—she probably shouldn't have tried to practice at all yesterday, but she had to at least try.
"Don't beat yourself up over this, Q. Accidents happen."
If only it were just an accident, Quinn thought with a frown. "I'm sorry, Coach."
"I told you, it's alright. Make sure you get yourself checked out. Don't be stubborn."
"Sure thing, Coach," she agreed before turning to leave the office and wish her teammates luck against Columbus Grove.
"Hey, hon," Leroy greeted Rachel as she entered the kitchen, freshly showered after her morning class. "How was your dance class?"
"It was good," she replied, sitting down at the table and absently playing with the cap of her water bottle.
"You seem a little distracted," Hiram noted.
"I am a little distracted," she confirmed with a sigh.
"What's on your mind?"
"What do you think?"
"Quinn?" Leroy asked.
Rachel nodded. "I'm understandably worried."
"Has she told you anything?" Hiram asked.
"She's said enough to confirm my suspicions," she said with a frown, remembering something from dinner last night. "Dad, the company Quinn's father works for—the one your company bought—I remember you saying their hours had been cut back awhile ago, and that that was only the beginning. What did you mean by that?"
"Well…" he began, casting a quick look at his husband. "The cutback of hours was in response not just to the poor economy but also because MaraCorp has no intention of keeping JonesPhillips employees in the fold for the long term. The layoffs are expected to be made by the end of the year."
Rachel's eyes widened in surprise. "Do they know that?"
"Yes, they know," he confirmed with a frown. "I'm only mid-management. I wouldn't be privy to that information if it wasn't common knowledge in the whole company."
"That's awful," she lamented. She wondered if Quinn knew that her father was about to lose his job—just in time for Christmas too.
"It is," Hiram agreed. "But don't say anything to Quinn just in case."
"Of course, Dad," she said, somewhat dismayed. "I'm almost offended that you felt you needed to tell me that. I'm not that insensitive."
"I know, sweetie," he said.
"Speaking of Quinn, she's been gone for quite awhile. Do you think she actually went to her game?" Leroy asked.
"She went, but I doubt she's actually playing," Rachel replied. "Still, I'm surprised she isn't back yet."
As Quinn walked up her front steps, she could hear faint shouting from inside. Her parents were obviously in the midst of a heated argument. She bit her lower lip in contemplation.
She had stopped by the house with the intention of getting some clothes and toiletries for her weekend stay at Rachel's since she hadn't had those things with her to begin with. She was hoping to either catch her parents in a good mood or avoid them all together. And right now, neither of those options seemed likely.
Steeling herself, Quinn stepped through the front door. She saw her parents in the living room where her father was screaming at her mother—something about money. She didn't want to know.
Walking as quietly as she could, she climbed the steps to her room and quickly packed what she needed in her duffel bag. So far, so good, she thought, trying to ignore her father's angry tirade sounding through the house as she made her way back downstairs.
Unfortunately, her arrival hadn't gone undetected. Just as she was about to make her exit, her father spotted her.
"Quinn!" he shouted. "Get back here, right now!"
She froze in her tracks and turned around to face him.
"Where the hell were you last night?" he asked, his blue eyes narrowed accusingly.
"I stayed at Rachel's house," she replied, glancing behind him to see her mother looking defeated and on the verge of tears.
"You should have called to let us know, Quinnie," her mother said, her tone a mixture of disapproval and sadness.
"Shut up, Judy, I'm handling this," her father spat, turning his attention to his wife briefly before looking back to Quinn. "Why didn't you call?"
"I'm sorry, I fell asleep early," she explained, wondering why he was getting up in arms about this. "I'm staying there again tonight."
"Like hell you are," he growled as he took a step toward her. Quinn instinctively took a step back. "You think you can just do whatever you want, don't you?"
"No, I-"
"Shut up!" he interrupted, his voice growing louder. "Don't interrupt me when I'm talking to you. This entire week you've been slacking off around the house. And then on top of it all, you think I'm just going to let you continue to carry on with your disgusting behavior."
As he continued his tirade, he advanced on her, but she wasn't hearing what he was saying. All she could hear were the words that Rachel had spoken to her that morning. You're amazing and wonderful, and anyone who would hurt you is the screw up.
His palm was raised to strike, and Quinn thought maybe Rachel was right.
For the first time in Quinn's life, she ran from her father. Adrenaline pumping, she sprinted across the lawn and to her car—pushing down the pain and willing herself to outrun her father, who, in his anger, had forgone appearances and chased after her.
But she was quicker and managed to get into her car and start it before he had even reached the curb. Going purely on instinct, she threw her car into drive and slammed on the accelerator, taking off down the street and leaving a livid Russell Fabray in her wake.
"Fuck," Quinn cursed under breath as she drove, slowing the car down to the legal limit and trying to get her shaking under control. " I'm going to be in so much trouble when I go back home."
Rachel glanced over at the clock for what felt like the millionth time. She couldn't stop the feeling of uneasiness she had but knew that it was probably for naught. After all, Quinn had probably stayed at the game in support of her teammates. In the meantime, Rachel had tried to busy herself by planning out the rest of their weekend activities, determined to make sure Quinn enjoyed herself.
As if on cue, her phone buzzed, indicating a new text message had arrived.
Meet me outside.
Not bothering to reply, Rachel furrowed her brow and ran out of her room and down the stairs. When she stepped outside, she saw Quinn sitting in her car. Her girlfriend's hazel eyes locked on her own, and Rachel immediately knew that something was wrong.
As Rachel hurried down the walkway, Quinn stepped out of her car. "Can you drive?" she asked, clearly on edge.
"Of course," Rachel replied. "Just let me go back inside and get my keys."
Quinn shook her head. "Just… no, we'll take my car." She extended her hand to give the keys to Rachel, her limbs still visibly shaking.
"Okay," she said, trying to maintain and air of calm as she took the keys from her girlfriend. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to Quinn's lips, hoping to soothe her. It seemed to help a bit as she felt her relax ever so slightly.
After pulling apart, the pair climbed into Quinn's car.
"Where to?" Rachel asked as she pulled onto the road.
"I don't know," Quinn replied anxiously. "Just drive."
So Rachel did just that while her girlfriend fiddled with her iPod, seemingly unable to find a suitable song. She tried to patiently wait for Quinn to say something—anything—that would explain why she had shown up to her house visibly on edge and currently having them drive aimlessly around Lima.
Finally, Quinn settled on a track from Green Day's American Idiot. The only reason Rachel recognized it was because she had the soundtrack from the Broadway musical. It seemed oddly fitting at the moment.
Quinn reached across the console then, seeking contact with her, and Rachel immediately took her girlfriend's hand in her own. She could still feel the nervous energy that radiated off Quinn, so Rachel lightly brushed her thumb back and forth in a soothing pattern across the back of her hand.
After driving around for several more minutes like that, Rachel couldn't stand to stay in the dark any longer. She had to know what was going on. Knowing that they were coming up on Hover Park, Rachel decided that's where she would take them. Since they were reaching the cooler months of autumn, it was pretty much vacant at the moment anyway, so there wasn't much chance of being interrupted.
Finally reaching her destination, Rachel pulled into the small parking lot. She disentangled her hand from Quinn's in order to put the car into park. She then turned to look at her girlfriend who had her head pressed back against the headrest.
"What happened?" Rachel asked.
"I went home to get some things for the weekend," Quinn explained. "My parents were fighting. And… I… fuck."
Rachel's eyes widened in surprise. She had never heard Quinn curse like that before. "What?"
"I ran out," she said, turning to look at Rachel, her worry evident. "My dad is going to be so pissed at me."
"It's okay, Quinn," Rachel replied, trying to keep her own anger toward the girl's parents in check. "You can stay at my house."
"I have to go back there sometime," Quinn argued, shaking her head before staring down at her lap and clenching her fists. "I shouldn't have left like that. I just. I-"
"Shh, Quinn, it's okay," Rachel soothed, reaching over and rubbing the top of Quinn's thigh. "One step at a time, okay?" She leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek, mindful to avoid where she knew bruises lay. "Just be here with me now. I'll take care of you."
Quinn turned her head then to capture Rachel's lips with her own. "Promise?" she asked against her lips.
"I promise," Rachel replied before sealing said promise with a kiss.