"Quinn? Quinn, wake up."
The soft voice and a gentle nudging of her shoulder finally make her open her eyes, and the first thing that swims into focus is Rachel's face very, very close to hers. Sometime during the night she must have rolled over and now she's facing the other girl, and from the warmth along her entire body, she can tell that they're lying only inches apart. "Rachel? Whuh's wrong?" she mumbles sleepily.
She giggles. "Nothing is wrong. We have to get ready for school."
Quinn groans and pulls the covers up higher. "What time is it?"
"Six. I-I wasn't sure what time you usually wake up in the morning… I always wake up at six on the dot, even without an alarm, a-and I didn't want to wake you too early but I wanted to ensure you had sufficient time to complete your morning routine." She nibbles her lip, like she's anxious to know if she did the right thing.
Quinn smiles. "Thanks for waking me up." She lets her gaze wander over Rachel's mussed hair, her face completely free of makeup, her eyes bright and energetic despite having been asleep mere minutes ago.
"How are you feeling?"
She shifts a little to test her ribs; they're still pretty sore but the pain has eased off. "Better."
The corner of Rachel's mouth lifts and suddenly her hand is on Quinn's cheek, her thumb brushing over the faint mark she knows is there. "The bruise under your eye is almost gone," she murmurs as she moves her finger back and forth.
Quinn swallows and begins to count every second that Rachel doesn't remove her hand. She looks deep into the brown irises in front of her, trying to figure out what's going on in Rachel's head, but the gentle caresses on her cheek are almost hypnotizing and her eyes start to flutter closed.
Three brisk knocks on the door jerk her away from Rachel.
"Up and at 'em, girls! Time to get moving!" Hiram calls from the hallway.
Quinn sits up quickly and stares at the door with wide eyes before glancing at Rachel. "He knows you're in here with me?"
Rachel props herself up on her elbow. "He probably came to that conclusion when he observed that I wasn't in my own room." She frowns in confusion. "Are you okay?"
She looks away and takes a moment to remind herself that not all parents are uptight about girls sharing beds. "Yeah… sorry." A sudden realization hits her and she blurts it out to change the subject. "I don't have any clothes."
Rachel immediately brightens. "Not to worry, Quinn. You're more than welcome to borrow something of mine." She pulls back the sheets, gets off the bed, and heads for the door. "Would you like to come pick something out?"
"Sure." She grabs the blanket from the floor and wraps it around herself so won't be walking around in a sports bra and follows Rachel down the hall to her room. After a few minutes of searching Rachel helps her find a light pink blouse and a pair of jeans; both look a bit tight but they work, and she's relieved that the girl owns "normal" clothes. She doesn't want it to be glaringly obvious that she's wearing Rachel's stuff.
Rachel gives her the first shower slot so she can work out on her elliptical. Quinn doesn't understand how Rachel can be so Rachel so early in the morning; her explanation of how to adjust the temperature and water pressure is about twice as long as it needs to be, not to mention filled with vocabulary Quinn only knows from watching spelling bees on TV, but she hangs on to every word anyway. She knows there aren't many people who actually listen to the things that come out of Rachel's mouth (okay, it's pretty much her dads and Quinn), so she makes sure her part of it, at least, is one-hundred percent.
Rachel finally departs after she feels she's given her all the necessary information, and Quinn starts up the shower so she can brush her teeth while the water heats up. She likes that the oval shape of the mirror in front of her doesn't show her ribs, and for a moment she can pretend that everything's normal. She's just blonde-haired, athletic Quinn Fabray, getting ready for a normal day at school, brushing her teeth in Rachel Berry's bathroom, about to bathe in Rachel Berry's shower…
Okay, so there's nothing normal about this, she thinks as she spits into the sink. She strips and pulls aside the plastic curtain and steps under the stream of water, sighing as her muscles relax under the soothing heat. Quinn can't stifle a laugh when she sees a microphone-shaped sponge sitting on the shelf in the corner, but then she's picturing Rachel singing her heart out as she spreads soap along her wet and very, very naked body…
She leans forward and sticks her face under the shower head until the images go away, and then her hands move quickly so she can wash her hair and get out. She feels so dirty thinking those things—ironic, given that this is supposed to make her cleaner—but she still finds herself inhaling deeply as she massages Rachel's signature strawberry shampoo into her own hair.
She's allowed to like a smell, isn't she?
Quinn and Hiram chat over their bowls of Cocoa Puffs as Rachel gets ready and then she elects to follow Quinn to school. They pull into the parking lot and she takes the space adjacent to Quinn's, and they walk into the building side-by-side, discussing the chapter they were supposed to read for English.
They stop at Rachel's locker and are in the middle of an argument about whether the main character's love interest is a jerk or just misunderstood when Rachel pauses.
"Hey, Quinn?"
"Yeah?" It always scares the crap out of her when Rachel does this—chewing her bottom lip, looking up at her nervously, like she's about to tell her she has cancer or something.
"I was just wondering—and of course you're welcome to say no, and I completely understand why you might not want..." She takes a deep breath to steady herself. "Would you like to eat lunch with me? I usually spend the period in the choir room so I can get some extra practice in, and... it would be nice to have some company." Rachel looks away as her cheeks flush, like she's embarrassed to be asking such a thing.
Quinn takes it back. These timid requests are adorable. "Sure," she replies with a smile, and Rachel beams at her like they just won Nationals.
"Good morning Q," drawls an unmistakable voice from behind her.
Rachel's expression dims considerably as Santana and Brittany appear beside them. The former's lips are curved into a giant smirk as she eyes them, obviously entertained by what she sees.
"Berry," she continues.
"M-morning," Rachel manages, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.
Brittany turns to Quinn. "You look really pretty today. I'm glad you're you again."
"Yeah, Puckerman mentioned you went back to the Housewife Barbie look. We just had to see it for ourselves."
She ignores Santana. "Thanks, Britt."
Brittany grins. "So does this mean you're coming back to glee club?"
"No. I'm just..." She sighs. "No."
Her smile dissolves into a pout. "That's sad. It's not as fun singing and dancing without you. And San keeps saying how much she misses you and I want her to be happy so—"
"Okay, B, time to go," Santana interrupts, her tan skin showing just a hint of red as she links their pinkies and drags her away.
"Bye, Quinn! Bye, Rachel!" Brittany calls over her shoulder.
Rachel watches their retreating forms. "They really are a strange pair, aren't they? At first glance you would never put them together... but they really work. They complement each other perfectly."
Quinn nods slowly. She wants to know what's on Santana's mind right now, because that was definitely her "I'm scheming and wouldn't you like to know what I'm up to" smile, and she doesn't like that it was directed at her.
The warning bell rings to signal that everybody should head to their first class.
"See you at lunch?" Quinn asks, because she wants to bring back the smile that disappeared when Santana interrupted them. It works like a charm.
"I couldn't be more excited," Rachel replies, beaming, before turning on her heel and going in the direction of her homeroom.
Quinn does the same and wonders briefly why Rachel is making such a big deal out of this whole lunch thing, but then she realizes she probably doesn't invite people to eat with her very often. She probably doesn't invite people to do anything very often; why would you, if you assumed they would say no? This thought brings a small smile to her face—she likes that Rachel took the risk with her.
She likes that for the first time in weeks, she has something to look forward to at school.
Quinn shouldn't be nervous as she walks down the hallway to the choir room. Okay, maybe she's not nervous, but she's anxious, and she shouldn't be that either. Her stomach shouldn't be twisted in knots, her pulse shouldn't be racing through her veins, and she shouldn't feel about ten degrees warmer than usual (she decides that Sue Sylvester probably turned up the heat in the school so the Cheerios can sweat out the calories they don't burn during practices. That's almost more logical than the alternative.)
She's not surprised when she opens the door and finds Rachel there already, eating a salad as she pores over a pile of what looks to be sheet music. She doesn't expect to see Brad sitting at the piano, but she returns his nonchalant wave and approaches Rachel, who's so enveloped in her thoughts that she still hasn't noticed Quinn's presence.
"Is this seat taken?" she asks playfully, and Rachel's head snaps up.
"Quinn! I'm so glad you're here!" Her eyes are bright with excitement as she abandons her food and hands the music to Brad. "I was just studying the song that I'll be performing for glee club this afternoon, and I'd hoped..." She looks nervous again and Quinn practically melts into her plastic chair. "I hoped maybe I could sing it for you, a-and see what you thought about it?"
Quinn pulls out the apple she brought from the Berrys' house this morning and takes a bite. "As long as it's not another Miley Cyrus song, I'm all ears."
"No, it is not a Miley song, though I stand firmly behind my opinion that the lyrics to 'The Climb' are quite inspirational. Furthermore, that particular performance of mine was only sub-par to my otherwise outstanding vocal abilities because I was suffering from a physical ailment that heavily affected my—" Rachel stops when she sees the amused look on Quinn's face and realizes she was joking. Her cheeks flush red as she clears her throat. "Anyways, this week's theme, as decided by Mr. Schue, is optimism, so I chose a song pertaining to my recent breakup with Finn in order to assist the healing process."
Quinn tries not to flinch at the mention of the boy and instead takes an extra-large bite out of the apple.
Rachel nods to Brad and he begins to play; the melody is light and bouncy and Rachel snaps her fingers to the beat.
Goodbye
Should be saying that to you by now, shouldn't I?
Laying down the law that I live by
Well, maybe next time
I've got a thick tongue
Brimming with the words that go unsung
I simmer then I burn for a someone
A wrong one
She does little dance moves as she sings, swaying her hips slightly with a coy smile on her face. The corners of Quinn's lips stretch into a matching grin.
And I tell myself to let the story end
That my heart will rest in someone else's hand
My "why not me" philosophy began
And I say
Ooh, how'm I gonna get over you?
I'll be all right, just not tonight
Someday, oh I wish you'd want me to stay
I'll be all right, just not tonight
Someday
Quinn crosses one leg over the other and her foot bobs along with the melody as a line from the first verse repeats in her mind. "My heart will rest in someone else's hand..."
Maybe is a vicious little word that could slay me
Keep me when I'm hurting, you make me
Hang from your hands
Well, no more
I won't beg to buy a shot at your back door
If I make it at the thought of you, what for?
It's not me anymore
Now Rachel turns and begins singing the words to Brad, who seems completely unaware of anything except his fingers dancing wildly along the piano keys.
And I'm not the girl that I intend to be
I dare you, darling, just you wait and see
But this time not for you, but just for me
She goes through the chorus again and Quinn is trying hard not to stare so openly at her, but the look of sheer happiness on her face—the one she's only ever seen when Rachel is giving everything she's got to the spotlight, whether literal or metaphorical—is making it very difficult to tear her eyes away.
Someday
Say it's coming soon
Someday without you
All I can do
Is get me past the ghost of you
Wave goodbye to me
I won't say I'm sorry
I'll be all right
Once I find the other side of someday
She does several long "whoa"s and launches into the final stretch of the song, and at this point Quinn has entirely forgotten about her apple. She applauds when Rachel finishes and laughs when she dips down for a small curtsy.
"'Someday,' huh?" she asks as Rachel returns to her seat, slightly out of breath.
"Well, if I'm being honest with you, I took some liberties with the lyrical meaning. I'm already quite 'over' him, as they say, but I wanted to seize the opportunity to sing something that was neither sappy nor melodramatic." She adjusts her skirt. "I'm told I do that a lot."
Quinn rolls her eyes. "If anyone complains about your song choice, it's only because they can't complain about anything else. You have an incredible voice, and that's what matters."
Rachel tries her best to stifle the smile spreading across her face. "Thank you. Of course, the real performance will include a full band and backup singers and will therefore have a much more complete sound, but..." She gazes thoughtfully at the grand, which Brad has vacated. "There's something really magical about singing with just a piano."
For a moment Quinn wonders if she's referencing those songs from the auditorium last week, but then Rachel is talking about classes and she doesn't get the chance to... well, probably not ask her.
They spend the rest of the period talking about food; Rachel tries to convince her that vegan foods aren't as disgusting as Quinn thinks they look, while Quinn in turn fiercely defends her love of bacon. The discussion lasts them to the end of lunch, continues as they walk to English, and doesn't stop until their teacher begins the lesson.
She can't remember the last time she talked to someone this much. What surprises her, though, is that they're not even talking about serious or heavy subjects, and yet she feels like she could never run out of things to say. Having to stay silent in class while Rachel is sitting right next to her is more torturous than she cares to admit.
The bell rings and Rachel starts right where they left off. "Have you ever tried vegan ice cream?" she demands as if that's all she's been thinking about for the last forty-five minutes.
"I can't say I have."
Suddenly she looks excited. "Come over after school again. You can do some experimenting!"
If Quinn was drinking something, she would've spit it out. "Excuse me?" she says, practically choking on her own breath.
Rachel seems unfazed by Quinn's reaction. "With the ice cream. I know we have several different flavors in the freezer and I would bet my inevitable future career on Broadway that you'll like at least one of them."
Quinn manages a small chuckle. "Okay, fine."
Rachel grins. "I'll meet you at your locker at four."
She watches her walk away with a lopsided smile on her face. This will be the fifth day in a row that she's hung out with Rachel outside of school, and there's something that just seems so right about that. She wonders how long she can keep the streak going, and then she wonders why she wants to do that in the first place, and then she swallows thickly because she just might be getting in over her head.
Quinn's heart is hammering in her chest as she enters the detention room. She hasn't seen The Mack—or any of the Skanks—since Sunday and she knows she's about to face some heavy hell for ditching them. The dangerously pissed-off look she receives from the girl when she sees her walk in confirms this theory.
She slips into a desk in the back of the room, away from the kids she suspects are regulars here, and pulls out a book to entertain herself for the next hour. Quinn makes it through a single paragraph before a shadow falls over the desk and a scent that's half tobacco and half mint hits her nostrils.
"What do you think you're doing, Fabray?" The Mack growls, taking a seat directly in front of Quinn.
She forces her eyes to stay on the page. "Reading."
The Mack spits her gum into her palm, slaps it onto the page, and presses the book closed. "I don't got that good of a memory, but I sure as hell know I didn't say you could leave the Skanks."
Quinn clenches her jaw. "I can't do it anymore, okay?"
She scoffs and shakes her head. "I knew you were too much of a pussy to be one of us."
"Being one of you got me assaulted the other day!" she snaps, her voice a harsh whisper.
The corners of her lips droop in a mock-sad face. "Aw, I'm sorry to hear that," she says like a mother talking to a child. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?" The Mack smirks. "Actually, you'd probably love that, wouldn't you?"
Quinn's insides turn to ice.
"Speaking of which…" she continues thoughtfully, "What d'you think is the fastest way to tell everyone about that?"
Her eyes start to burn. "Why are you doing this? What makes my life so much more worth ruining than everyone else's?"
The Mack's sneer deepens. "Like I said before. We keep the losers in their rightful place."
Before Quinn can say anything else the teacher in charge of their detention shushes them, and The Mack slinks back to her seat.
She stares down at her book for a long time, her mind suddenly overloading with all of the what-ifs that could result from The Mack outing her to the entire school. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and grabs her mp3 player from her bag. Once Quinn finds the song she wants she hits "repeat" and lets the familiar melody make everything else disappear.
You're not alone, together we stand
I'll be by your side
You know I'll take your hand...
Rachel is waiting by her locker when detention finally ends and the sight of her instantly wipes away the pained frown that's been stuck on Quinn's face for an hour.
"How'd it go?" she asks, though the fact that Rachel is all but bouncing on the balls of her feet kind of answers the question for her.
"It was phenomenal! Everybody loved it. Well, everyone but Finn. He spent most of the performance pouting in the corner, which I told him was quite idiotic since he is the one who broke up with me..."
Quinn's jaw drops a fraction. "You called Finn an idiot?" she asks, trying not to laugh.
She bites her lip. "I'd like to think of it as less of a derogatory term and more of a scientific classification based on proven facts."
At this, Quinn cracks up. "That sounds like something Santana would say if she spoke Rachel Berry," she says once she regains control of her lungs and Rachel blushes.
They walk to their cars together but Quinn heads home first to get some things, and she's turning the corner into her neighborhood when she realizes she hasn't been home in almost thirty-six hours. Her heart skips a beat and she wonders if her mom will be pissed, but then she remembers that her mom only gets mad when it has something to do with that pesky part of Quinn that shall never be named. She could probably get away with murder as long as the "g" word isn't involved.
Quinn slips through the front door and hears the TV in the living room, and for a split second she's overwhelmed with déjà vu, though this time she's in significantly less pain, at least. She sneaks up the stairs to her room so she can change into her own clothes and stuff some homework supplies into her bag. A thought drifts through her mind and she opens the bottom drawer of her desk, where her old camera stares back at her, dusty from lack of use. Quinn remembers all the afternoons she spent wandering around town, looking for uninteresting and unimportant things that she could give new life to with the press of a button.
Black-and-whites were her favorite. Most people assumed she loved color because of the bright dresses and cardigans she wore, but it was actually quite the opposite. Once you removed the color from the image there was nothing to distract you from the image itself, and the inherent beauty present in the simplest of things: a stack of books, an old shoe, a leaf on the ground.
Quinn took hundreds of photos during those brief months of creativity before being seduced by the Cheerios uniform and all the potential power that came with it. Her mom was thrilled when she announced her captaincy; not that she disapproved of the photography, per se, but a popular, athletic Fabray was so much better than an artistic Fabray. Her mom never said it, but she didn't have to, because her immediate enthusiasm about gym memberships and competition schedules was enough. Judy Fabray didn't smile like that over pictures of fences and swing sets. She smiled like that when her daughter became the most popular girl in school.
She sighs and closes the drawer. Quinn wonders how she would've turned out if she had parents like Hiram and Leroy, who foster the arts like they're a cure for cancer and do everything in their power to ensure their child's happiness. She wonders if she would be so afraid to be herself, both with her hobbies and… that other thing.
Quinn hooks the bag over her shoulder and makes her way back downstairs, curious if she can escape without her mom noticing. Her question is answered when she sees her standing in front of the bottom stair, her arms crossed as she looks up at her with eyes full of authority.
"Where have you been?" she asks, her tone even enough, but Quinn can sense the chaos beneath it.
She shrugs. "School and detention."
Her mom's lips tighten into a rigid line. "This isn't a joke, Quinnie. You can't just not come home."
Quinn can feel her eyebrows lift in disbelief. "Oh, so you care now?"
"I'm your mother," she gasps, "Of course I care! I was worried you'd gotten into an accident."
"That's funny, because two nights ago I was assaulted and you didn't give a damn about that."
"And whose fault was that?" she snaps and immediately covers her mouth with her hand, as if she didn't mean to say it aloud.
Quinn's eyes are glistening. She walks down the rest of the stairs and right past her mom without a word.
"Quinn—"
"Save it," she interrupts quietly as she reaches for the doorknob.
"Honey, please… I love—"
"You love me?" she asks, cutting her off again. "I really want to believe that, Mom, but sometimes…" Quinn trails off and turns back to her mom, trying to keep her voice steady. "Rachel's dads took more care of me in the last twenty-four hours than you have in the last three months. I'd never even met them before and they managed to find it in their hearts to treat me like their own daughter."
Other than a slight quivering in the corner of her mouth, her mom's face remains expressionless. "You were with her?"
Quinn stares at her incredulously. "That's what you got from everything I just said?" She shakes her head and opens the door. "I have to go," she mutters, but her mom's hand on her wrist stops her.
"Are you going to see her?" she asks, and Quinn wishes she was imagining how terrified she sounds.
She yanks her arm from her mom's grasp. "I'll be back by curfew if that's what you're worried about," she replies flatly before closing the door in her face.
Rachel opens the front door before Quinn can even knock.
"I came up with a compromise," she says without preamble and Quinn follows her to the living room. Rachel picks up a DVD case from the coffee table and holds it up. "I stopped by the movie store on the way home."
Quinn reads the label. "Paranormal Activity? You hate scary movies."
"I do, but you love them. If you try one spoonful of each of the four flavors of vegan ice cream we have, I will watch this movie with you. And if you actually like any of them..." She gulps. "I'll pull down the shades and turn off the lights while we watch it."
Quinn smirks. "You are so on."
Rachel smiles nervously. "I was afraid you might say that."
They go into the kitchen and Rachel gets the ice cream from the freezer, then grabs four spoons and sticks one into each carton. Quinn examines the flavors and she's a little surprised by how normal they all are: vanilla, mint chocolate chip, strawberry, and coffee. She goes down the line, taking a bite of each kind, and Rachel claims a bittersweet victory when Quinn announces she likes them all.
"You're the one who came up with this brilliant plan," Quinn reminds her with a grin as they head back to the living room to start the movie. "Now you have to face the consequences."
Rachel huffs as she draws the shades. "You're going to face some consequences of your own, Quinn. When I get scared I always cling to the nearest object, which in this case is most likely going to be you."
Quinn shrugs. "Whatever. I'll just sit in the chair and you can have the couch." She laughs at Rachel's suddenly terrified expression. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," she says, smiling. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from the ghosts."
They take their seats, Quinn with a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream and Rachel clutching a pillow. The movie begins and she can feel Rachel already tensing, even though there's nothing even remotely scary about Katie and Micah's interactions so far.
"Did you hear that?" Rachel whispers during the first night scene, when there's a faint sound from downstairs, and Quinn wiggles her eyebrows. By the time Night #3 comes around Rachel is pressed up against her side and holding the pillow over her face so her eyes just barely peek over the top.
Just before the next big scare Quinn steals the remote and discreetly turns up the volume, so when a huge crash wakes up the characters, Rachel screams and curls into a ball in Quinn's lap, and she can feel the girl trembling.
"OhmyGodwhatisthatthingdon'tgodownstairswhycan'tweseeitohmyGodwhat'sitgoingtodo," Rachel mumbles into her hands as she peers at the screen through her fingers. Quinn just laughs softly and wraps her arm around Rachel's quivering form, where it stays for the rest of the movie.
When it's over Rachel sits up, takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "Well, that wasn't so bad."
Quinn quirks an eyebrow. "Says the girl who was cowering in my lap the whole time. I'm pretty sure you screamed more than Katie did."
She blushes. "One time my dads tried to get me to watch Halloween with them and I left the room twenty minutes in. So yes, this wasn't so bad." She smiles sheepishly. "Thank you for... you know... letting me watch the movie on top of you."
Quinn wants to make a joke or something but the subject suddenly reminds her of her nightmares, of Rachel holding her all night to make her feel safe, and the words die in her throat. "Thanks for last night," she says quietly. "For being there for me and everything."
Rachel nods. "To be honest, I was a little scared you would get mad at me for intruding, but I... I-I just couldn't bear to let you suffer like that." By the end of her sentence she's looking down at her lap, but Quinn can still see the intensity in her eyes.
"You're amazing, Rachel." The words slip out softly and without any voluntary action on her part, and her heart begins pounding in her chest when Rachel's gaze meets her own. She doesn't realize how close they've gotten until the front door opens.
"Hello, sweetie!" Leroy greets, and his smile shifts into a friendly smirk when he finally sees the two of them on the couch. "And Quinn! What a lovely surprise. Will you be staying for dinner again?"
"Uh," she says, glancing at Rachel, who nods.
"She'd love to," Rachel answers for her.
"Excellent. I'll make an extra helping, then." He departs with an expression on his face that almost reminds her of Santana's from earlier, and she looks at Rachel again and her hair is slightly mussed from curling up against Quinn during the movie and they really are too close together and the room is dark and it probably looked like—
Oh God.
"We should do some homework before dinner, yeah?" Quinn asks abruptly, getting off the couch and rifling through her bag for her calculus notebook.
Rachel agrees and they set up shop in the kitchen again, and Quinn tries extremely hard not to notice Mr. Berry's watchful eyes paying a lot more attention to her than they did yesterday.
Quinn finally packs up around quarter of ten; she may be at odds with her mom but she fully intends to honor her curfew, and she doesn't want to keep Rachel up too late.
Rachel walks her to the front door and they both pause, just like when Rachel was leaving Quinn's house a few days before. Rachel studies her for a moment, her eyes searching Quinn's for something as she nibbles her lip.
Quinn laughs. "You're not going to ask me for a hug again, are you? Because I think at this point you don't need—" She stops midsentence when Rachel stands on her tiptoes and kisses her on the cheek.
She smiles. "Goodnight, Quinn."
"Goodnight," she manages before heading to her car.
She drives home in somewhat of a daze, her cheek burning where Rachel's lips touched it, her blood roaring through her veins at one-hundred miles an hour. She arrives to find that her mom has already gone to bed and there's a note on the kitchen table saying there's chocolate cake in the fridge. It's signed "Love, Mom."
Quinn crumples the paper into a ball, tosses it in the trash, and goes up to her room. She changes into pajamas and crawls into bed, thinking about The Mack and Santana and Puck and Rachel and her mom. She falls asleep eventually, but not before kind of wishing that she was lying in Rachel's arms.
Songs used:
"Gonna Get Over You" by Sara Bareilles
"Keep Holding On" by Avril Lavigne