Title:Ensnared by Despair (Let Love Set You Free)
Pairing:Quinn Fabray/Rachel Berry
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer:I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.
Summary:AU. Quinn broke up with Rachel during Nationals their junior year and Rachel hadn't the slightest clue why. When Quinn falls off the radar all summer and returns to school with a new look and attitude, Rachel has a feeling things are going to get a lot worse before they get better.
A/N: I cannot believe we're ten chapters into this story already. Where did the time go?
A loud insistent banging on her door woke her up from her sleep. After her mother barging in with the truancy form a few days ago, she had learned to lock her door. "Quinn, wake up. Quinn. Quinn, you need to get up, honey. It's time for school."
Pink hair spilled across a white pillow as Quinn turned away from the loud voice on the other side of the door. The voice and knocking became louder and…deeper. "Quinn, get up so we can take you to school."
She instantly sprang up in bed, knowing exactly who was on the other side of the door. "I thought I told you you aren't welcome!"
"Do you hear how she talks to me?" she heard her father's muffled voice complain on the other side of the door. "If I was still living here she'd have a little more respect than that."
"No one told you to leave us," Quinn whispered, more to herself than to the intruder on the other side of the door. She could hear Judy on the other side of the door pleading with her to come out and she sighed quietly, getting out of bed. A pair of sleep shorts were thrown haphazardly on and she stepped up to the door, opened it and leaned against the frame with a drowsy yawn.
"I've been suspended," she said dryly, clenching her eyes shut. After her visit to the nurse, Principal Figgins had called her, Santana, Ronnie, and Sheila into his office. He heard their sides of the story and Quinn, Ronnie, and Sheila were suspended from school under the suspicion that the 'attack' on Santana was somehow gang related. "I still have three days of my five day sentence left."
Russell reached out and grasped her chin firmly in his hand when she stopped talking. Quinn halfheartedly fought but he just ignored her, turning her jaw to get a better look at her eye. He squinted, leaning closer. "It doesn't appear too inflamed anymore."
She jerked away. "What are you, a doctor?"
His jaw clenched in annoyance but it was Judy whom spoke. "Quinn, get dressed. Your father is taking you to school."
"I've been suspended," she reiterated.
"Your mother asked me to speak to your principal for you," Russell cut in. "I've donated a lot of money towards extra-curricular activities in that school and it might do some good for you if I showed my face."
"I don't need you."
"You know what I don't need?" Judy asked suddenly, looking between the two of them. "I don't need the two of you to be at each other's throats constantly. You're family. Quinn—" she turned towards her daughter. "Get dressed. And get downstairs in twenty minutes. Russell is taking you to school and that's final."
She glared hard at both of them, then slammed her door shut.
Nineteen minutes later she was rushing down the stairs, throwing concealer and a pack of cigarettes into her bag. She bypassed Russell as if he wasn't there, walking outside.
"We're taking my car," he told her.
She nodded curtly, walking towards his car and getting in the passenger seat. Russell took a deep breath, opened his door and stepped inside. He put his seat belt on and braced his hands against the steering wheel intently. Quinn put her seatbelt on and situated herself. By the time she turned to Russell, he was still in the same position.
"Am I going to school today, or…?"
"Alright." He threw a hand up, nodding his head and looking as if he was talking to himself. Quinn sank back further into her own seat when his eyes rounded on her. "Let's have it out, Quinn. Because you obviously don't want me here and I'm caring less and less about your little attitude, so let's talk. Let's lay it all out there."
Her face hardened. "Fine. Why are you back all of a sudden?"
"To do this," he articulated, gesturing between them. "Do you have any idea what you're doing right now? It's almost November and you're acting like you have all the time in the world; you don't!"
"Have you even thought about college?" he continued. "Have you even thought about how you'll pay for college because making scraps at McDonald's isn't even going to get you through community college these days."
Her mouth opened and closed with replies that she didn't really have.
"This is why I'm here," he continued quietly. "Because you have no idea what you're doing. You know that, I know that, your mother knows that." He exhaled loudly, choosing to look ahead. "I don't even know who you are anymore, Quinn. You've lost all sense of direction, purpose. You let one mistake—" he gritted his teeth harshly. "One mistake ruin your entire life."
"You acted like my life was over!" she cried suddenly. "You're the one that made me feel like a failure, like there was no coming back from getting pregnant at sixteen!" She felt tears in her eyes and her left eye throbbed against the strain of her outbursts. "I thought I was finished," she whispered desolately. "I thought I was going to fail for the rest of my life because I had fallen short that one time."
"And now you have," he cut in bitterly. His haunted eyes slid over to Quinn's. "And it's partially my fault; I'll take blame for it. But you need to own up to your part in this, Quinn. You're never going to get anywhere if you sit there and continue to blame everyone for your own problems."
Quinn sank back against the passenger seat, as if her father's words were a physical blow. She angled her body away from him, choosing to look out of the window as Russell started the car. The engine roared to life, drowning out her quiet sobs and his restless thoughts as he pulled out the driveway.
They rode in silence. Quinn had the seatbelt clenched tightly in her hand, staring vacantly out the window. She didn't know where to begin; there was too much going on. Class seemed like a safe place to start. She sighed as she pulled her phone out of her bag and looked at the time. She had already missed her first class but maybe she could make her second on after her meeting with Principal Figgins.
She scrolled through her text messages, knowing there wouldn't be any from Mack, Ronnie, and Sheila. There was one from Rachel the night before simply telling her good night and for now that would have to do. Rachel was the only friend she had.
It somehow always worked out that way.
Russell pulled smoothly into a parking space and killed the engine before turning to Quinn. "We go in there, I talk, you apologize and we hope for the best. Deal?"
She nodded numbly and got out of the car.
They walked inside the school together and instantly people began to take notice. People would either snicker at her black eye or gawk in wonder but one thing they all did was part like the Red Sea when she walked past. A lot had changed in the past two years. Back when she was a Cheerio people wouldn't dare to even make eye contact, let alone snicker behind her back.
That thought alone caused her to stop abruptly in the hallway.
Russell stopped just short of running into her and looked down, bewildered.
Quinn's eyes narrowed icily in a well-practiced glare that had never failed her before. She looked around, daring everyone, anyone to make eye contact. No one did. They all kept walking, some shuffling forward with their heads down.
She smirked a little, easing her shoulders back. Okay, so maybe that hadn't changed so much.
She led her father to the Principal's Office and knocked firmly on the door.
"Yes, yes, come in!"
Quinn pushed the door open and walked in, Russell trailing behind. She plopped down in a chair in front of Figgins's desk and Russell sat down with her, stretching his hand across the table. "Principal Figgins, it's been ages!" he gushed. "You look as sharp as ever."
Figgins waved him off good naturedly. "I can't take compliments from a handsome man like you! How long has it been? A year?"
"Try two," Quinn shot back.
Russell recoiled slightly but recovered with a wide smile. "You know how busy it gets."
"I sure do." Figgins returned his smile as the two men reclined back in their respective chairs. "What brings the two of you here today?"
"Well, Principal Figgins, as you know my daughter was recently involved in a fight and was subsequently suspended."
"Ah, yes." He nodded. "Sue Sylvester raised hell because blood, sweat and tears were shed on her hallway and she wasn't the one who caused it."
"Yes, well, what I'm trying to say is that Quinn is sorry." He scooted closer towards Figgins. "You know how rambunctious children can be these days." Quinn's jaw clenched. "I just wanted to come down here and ask that you allow my daughter back in school now. I think she's learned her lesson and she'd really like to be back full time. This is her last year after all, Figgins. You know how important senior year is to a student."
Principal Figgins leaned back in his seat once he caught on. "Mr. Fabray, you know I respect you more than half the teachers in this school. But I cannot allow Quinn back in my school before her punishment is up. What kind of message would I be sending to my…"
He trailed off as Russell stood to pull a checkbook and pen out of his pocket. Quinn folded her arms and watched from the corner of her eye as her father swatted the checkbook against his open palm a few times. Her eyes slid over to Principal Figgins watching intently.
It was like dangling a bone in front of a dog.
"I haven't made a contribution to the football team since my daughter was dating the star quarterback," he jeered. "Your boys need new uniforms this year, Principal Figgins?"
"That they do," he admitted.
"Then Quinn is free to go to class, correct?"
Principal Figgins' eyes darted from the checkbook, to Russell's eyes, to Quinn, then back to the checkbook. "Quinn, you have ten minutes to get to class."
"Whatever." She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder.
"How much to get this suspension off her record?" she heard her father ask as she closed the door to the Principal's office.
Her boots echoed loudly against the floor as she walked down the empty hallway. Everyone was already in their second class of the day and she'd be late. Again. But she found she didn't really care once she got to her locker and saw her eye again. It was still pretty bruised, but it was turning a sickly looking yellow color that meant it would be completely healed soon. She stared into the mirror in her locker and fished her concealer out to apply it. The official late bell for class rang and she growled quietly in annoyance. She wasn't moving from her spot until that black eye was covered. Once it was covered she touched it lightly in experiment and winced. It couldn't be seen but it still hurt like hell.
She capped her concealer, grabbed her books and closed her locker, walking down the hallway to class.
Rachel walked into the choir room with a bright smile, carrying her folder of sheet music in her hand. Today had been a good day. She didn't go sharp on any notes in choir this morning, she had rehearsals after glee club to look forward to, and the vegan station at lunch today served actual vegan dishes this time. She walked towards her chair with an extra spring to her step.
The smile was more or less wiped from her face when Finn came in. He made eye contact with her, grimaced a little but walked closer. Things had been awkward between them because they really hadn't had a chance to talk since the night Quinn texted her. The next day he kept asking what was going on and she stalled until the end of the day when Quinn literally dragged her away from the choir room so they could talk. Aside from telling Finn that sex was definitely off the table and she didn't really know what she had been thinking at the time, she hadn't really offered up an explanation to him for what had happened. But as his large shadow eclipsed her before he sat down, she knew she would have to have a heart to heart about the situation soon.
"We need to talk," he told her as he sat beside her.
"After glee," she promised.
Everyone walked in and settled down just as Mr. Schuester stepped to the front of the room. Mercedes walked into the room a minute later and Rachel perked up. Her arms folded tightly across her chest at the solemn expression on Mercedes's face.
"Alright, guys, listen up!" Mr. Schuester placed a hand on Mercedes's shoulder as he addressed the class. "I regret to inform you that we're now one person short. Mercedes has decided to leave the New Directions in favor of a rival glee club at our own school led by Shelby Corcoran."
Everyone's face began to pull down in disdain and Mr. Schuester quickly cut in before things got out of hand. "However, we still love her like family." He turned to Mercedes. "And we wish you all the best."
"Thank you, Mr. Schuester."
"That's it?" Rachel asked from the front row. "T-that's all we're going to say to her? I don't understand, if it were me quitting everyone would be jumping on my back for this."
"You did quit the club a few times, though," Tina said.
"Yeah, almost more than your lesbian lover," Santana sassed from the third row. "And that's saying something because Quinn quit the club every third week like she was punching a time card at work." She stood up as if a thought just occurred to her. "You know what? Maybe I quit." She looked around at everyone and realized she didn't really care for any of them, sans Brittany. "Yeah, I quit. Screw this; I could be getting more solos at Shelby's lame glee club with that one rude chick that can't sing than I can here with one chick that refuses to stop singing."
Rachel sat there stunned as Santana stepped down from the risers. She stood up abruptly when she walked past her. "Mr. Schuester, are you really going to let this happen? Now; our last year?"
Mercedes and Santana gave each other high fives as Mr. Schuester ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
"They're screwing everything up for us, Mr. Schue," Kurt said. "This is our final year to actually win; you're going to just let them leave?"
"Guys! I can't do anything." His brow crinkled as he turned to Mercedes and Santana. "I hope you guys realize what you're doing," he said gravely. "You'll never be able to qualify for Sectionals let alone Regionals without enough people."
"Mr. Schuester, all I ever wanted to do was sing," Mercedes said. "Winning is great and everything but more than anything all I ever wanted was for my mother to come hear me sing and actually get to hear me sing."
"I just want the spotlight," Santana said flippantly.
Rachel slumped back against her seat heavily. She felt like crying. Everything she had worked hard for with her own voice for the past two years was being ripped from her right before her very eyes. By her own mother and friends. She had had some vague inkling that Shelby was orchestrating a rival glee club in her school; Shelby had called her into her office and calmly explained that a little healthy competition never hurt anyone. She ended up walking out of Shelby's office and spent ten minutes having a good cry in the bathroom because who does that? What mother would shatter their child's dreams so ruthlessly and without apology or remorse again? Wasn't winning Regionals over them two years ago enough? Apparently not. Apparently Shelby was going for blood this time.
Mercedes and Santana turned to walk out as Mr. Schuester called out to them, "Just so you guys know, there's always a place for you to come ba—"
"No, there isn't."
All three of them turned around to find Rachel standing. She walked over towards them. "Mr. Schuester, I respect you as an instructor. Mercedes, Santana, I wish you both the best." She took a deep breath. Was she really going to say what she was thinking? "But this is our last year, we have Sectionals in mere weeks and we can't afford to have people walking in and out of the club all year long. I'm sorry, but if you walk out that door there will no longer be a position for you in New Directions."
Santana began walking towards her but Mercedes grabbed her arm. "You think you can call shots all of a sudden, you two foot dwarf! Who died and made you president?" She tried her best to rip away from the firm grasp Mercedes had on her arm.
Rachel shook a little where she stood but she stood firm, not backing down. "We need people to commit and we need to begin preparing numbers now. We can't afford to have to constantly change choreography and arrangements because people keep walking out."
Mercedes gave one more yank and Santana finally stopped trying to charge for Rachel. "Fine," she spat. "But don't expect to win when the most soulful voices of this vanilla wafer club quit!"
She quickly stormed out of the door and Mercedes casted one more glance around the room before walking out as well. "Good luck, guys," she called.
The door closed behind them with finality. Rachel stood rooted in place, wondering if she had done the right thing.
"Rachel?"
She turned around to find all eyes on her. It was a little overwhelming. She did a mental head count of who was still left: Finn, Kurt, Blaine, Tina, Mike, Artie, Puck and Brittany. But who knew how long Brittany was going to hang around until she followed Santana to Shelby's glee club?
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Whether Brittany quit or not didn't matter because they still needed twelve members in order to qualify for Sectionals.
"Mr. Schuester?"
"Yes, Rachel?"
Her sorrowful eyes met his. "Would it be alright if we didn't practice today? I think that giving time to digest this news that has rocked our club to its very foundation could prove to be both vital and beneficial."
"I think that's a good idea." He addressed the entire club, "Don't despair, guys. We're gonna take a day off, come back tomorrow and we're gonna practice like never before."
The somber mood in the choir room was palpable. Blaine tried to reach for Kurt's arm as he stormed outside in a huff, Brittany shuffled out of the room with a pout and everyone trailed behind. Rachel slowly gathered her belongings, taking deep meditative breaths. She was a non-violent person but there were times like these when she wished she had taken on that kick boxing class this semester in gym.
A light hand touched her shoulder. "Hey."
Gathering her books into her arms, she turned to Finn with a forced smile. "Hi, Finn."
One hand jammed into his pocket while the other went to scratch the back of his head. "You said we could talk?"
She nodded and together they walked out of the choir room. The hallway was mostly vacant due to after school inactivity and they walked together in silence until Finn turned to her when she stopped at her locker. "So…Quinn?" He looked down at her locker and frowned at the picture of Quinn he saw tacked inside. It had taken him weeks and asking to get a picture up but Quinn got one in mere days?
Rachel deposited her books inside. "Yes, Finn. Quinn."
"The two of you—"
"I don't know," she replied honestly. "We're taking it slowly." She closed her locker and leaned against it to face him more fully. "Finn, I'm terribly sorry, I truly am. It wasn't my intent to lead you on—I didn't know that Quinn and I—" she scrambled to find the right words. "I didn't know she and I weren't…finished."
"It's been like, two years of more misses than hits, Rachel." His frustration was clearly readable in the furrow of his brow. "When are the two of you going to be finished?"
She couldn't answer that. What kind of question was that to even ask? "I don't know, Finn."
He shook his head. "So, I shouldn't wait?"
"Probably not," she whispered.
"Tell me this; was I just some fucking placeholder?"
"I—"
"This whole time? Were you just waiting for the day that Quinn would finally look at you the way you wanted her to?"
Her jaw dropped. "Finn, that's not fair!"
"You're not answering," he pointed out.
"No, you weren't a placeholder," she said incredulously.
"But you've always had feelings for her, right? That day I told you I was dating her?"
She remembered the day in question well. At the time, she had recently acquired a crush on Finn after learning of his leading man potential for glee club. She had flirted a little until Finn said that he was dating Quinn. Her world had instantly turned on its axis. Finn had been dating Quinn, the girl she had seen twirl in the hallway earlier that day that made her stomach flip-flop and Rachel had wondered how the President of the Celibacy Club knew how to shake her ass in that short pleated skirt like that.
It had been mind-boggling to say the least. Her future on again off again boyfriend had been dating her future ex-girlfriend, current who-knows-what.
"I'm waiting," he said impatiently.
"So am I."
As soon as shivers ran down her spine, Rachel knew who it was. She turned just as Quinn walked down the hallway. Her eyes gleamed with excitement but she remained against the locker, unsure how to even proceed. What was the protocol for when your not-girlfriend shows up while you're talking to your ex-boyfriend about your feelings for her?
But…wait. "You're in school," Rachel stated with a confused lilt to her voice.
Quinn smiled. "Long story. The suspension was lifted." She leaned against the locker, getting comfortable as if she belonged there.
Finn turned to her with a glare. "Do you mind? I'm trying to talk to Rachel."
"We both seem to be having the same problem then," she stated coolly.
"Could you leave?"
"No."
"Quinn—" Rachel began.
"I don't know what makes you think you deserve her."
Rachel startled. "Finn—"
He ignored her completely, walking closer to stand in front of Quinn. He sized up her slouched posture and black clothing with a frown. Her new behavior had been getting under his skin since the day she texted Rachel. "You're evil and manipulative. You don't deserve someone as good as her."
"Finn, that's enough!" Rachel stated firmly.
"All you do is hurt people."
"Finn!"
He was hurling words at her, all the things he never got to say when Quinn hooked up with his best friend, got pregnant and tried to pass the baby off as his two years ago festered and bubbled and every once in a while his resentment would resurface. "You always lie; do you even care about her?"
Rachel was about to speak but her voice squeaked and died in the back of her throat when Quinn slowly pushed off the lockers until she was right in front of Finn. "You don't think I know that?" she choked out. "You think I don't know how much I've hurt her?"
"Both of you, that's enough."
"That's the difference between us," Quinn continued, ignoring Rachel. Her voice rumbled with conviction. "You sit around and act like you've never hurt her or made her cry while I acknowledge and apologize for it."
"Quinn, stop."
"Have you ever apologized to her?" she challenged. When Finn didn't answer she continued. "Have you ever even acknowledged one fucking time that you've hurt her? Because I have. And that is what makes us different. So don't you ever put me down again."
"Okay, that's enough." Rachel reached out for her arm gently. She tugged Quinn backwards and inserted herself between the two of them. Finn stared down at her completely dumbfounded. "Finn, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"But, Rachel—"
"Finn, please," she asked, trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb she felt behind her. She could literally feel Quinn, taut and incensed behind her and pleaded with Finn to just walk away.
He did, with his hands in his pockets and his head hanging a little. He never looked back.
"Yeah, that's right, walk away!"
Rachel turned around sharply. "Quinn, that's enough!"
"You heard the way he talked to me!" Her hard eyes bore into Rachel.
"Yes, and I admired the way you handled it calmly," she intoned. "Don't fly off the handle now."
Quinn stood staring at her, as motionless as a statue before she slumped back against the lockers. Finn had hit a sore spot. Whether or not she deserved Rachel was often a concept she wrestled with herself on and always came out on the losing side because no matter how much she made up for what she did in the past, she would never deserve Rachel. It was a burden but it was her own to bear and Finn throwing it in her face whenever he felt like it was too much. She didn't want to think about all the ways she would never be able to fully make amends for what she did.
"Don't think about it," Rachel said quietly. "We've talked about this too many times in the past and you know I forgive you."
Quinn nodded, unable to meet Rachel's eyes. Instead she stared at the worn penny loafers on her feet. There were times when she felt like that was all she deserved to be able to look at. A soft hand brushed along her jaw and gently grabbed her chin. Her head was tilted up until she met dark brown eyes. Rachel's eyes narrowed. "It's still a little swollen," she murmured as she looked at her eye.
Quinn bit her lip under Rachel's scrutiny, suddenly feeling bare and exposed. "I'm still pretty though, right?" tumbled from her lips.
Rachel blinked owlishly at her before she erupted in a fit of giggles. Quinn's brow furrowed at the reaction. She pushed Rachel's hand away and folded her arms tightly across herself. Why was the concept of her being pretty so funny all of a sudden? Her thick outer shell slowly crumbled to give way to hurt feelings that she hadn't felt in a while.
Rachel quickly grabbed for her once she realized she'd upset her. "Wait, Quinn, stop." She grabbed her arms and unfolded them, gently pushing Quinn back against the lockers. She was ever hyper aware of their proximity and wondered if she was making Quinn uncomfortable with the public displays of affection. She looked into Quinn's eyes and didn't see any of the anxiety she used to see when they would walk together in the hallways and Quinn wanted to keep them a secret. Instead all she saw was an insecure girl in front of her. It always amazed her how someone as strong and imposing and beautiful as Quinn could be just as insecure, if not more, than she herself was.
"I'm sorry for laughing," she said sincerely. "However, I wasn't laughing at the notion of you being pretty. I was laughing at the absurdity of you even thinking otherwise." Quinn's eyes widened in understanding and she smiled a little. "Quinn, I will always, always think you're stunning. Whether you have a black eye or not has no bearing on that," Rachel finished quietly.
By the little blush dusting along pale cheeks and the way her lips parted as if in awe, Rachel guessed her message got through loud and clear. She waited patiently as Quinn composed herself.
"Really?" she whispered.
Rachel nodded with the same smile.
Quinn's lips ticked upwards. "But I'm a lot more than that, right?" she asked with a little eyeroll.
"I've been telling you that for a while now," she giggled. She fingered the cotton of Quinn's ripped shirt with a thoughtful pout. "Why am I just seeing you if you've been here all day?"
Quinn's smile was full blown. "Blame the system, not me. We only have one class together and that's on odd days. Today's an even day. I don't see you much."
Their amusement of one another died down as their close proximity became more apparent. They were pressed against each other and Quinn still hadn't moved to put space between them. It was strange and new. Rachel was so used to having to watch her back outside of the choir room so that no one knew they were together that being here, now, pressed against Quinn felt so new. It felt good to be able to openly display the affection she felt. Even though no one was around the thrill was still there. Her stomach still knotted against the heat she felt from Quinn's body, her chest still heaved against the one in front of her. "Quinn?"
"Yeah?" she breathed. It seemed their thoughts were beginning to align.
"Would kissing you be the opposite of taking things slowly?" she asked hoarsely. Her hands were already beginning to wander if the quiet gasp Quinn emitted was anything to go by.
"Probably," Quinn admitted breathlessly, leaning forward and capturing her lips.
Rachel exhaled harshly and pressed her body more firmly against Quinn's, knocking them both into the locker. Quinn's hands quickly weaved in her hair as their mouths met. She had been thinking about having that perfect smile attached to her lips for way too long. She sucked a little on Rachel's bottom lip and pulled back for a breath before diving right back in. Rachel's fingers slid under Quinn's top quickly before she caught herself and took a step back.
Harsh breaths were pushed back against her lips as she looked over at Quinn on the lockers. This wasn't exactly the most adult way to take it slowly. This was the hormonal teenager way of taking things slowly and although that's exactly what they were, taking this route to solve their problems wouldn't get anything solved. "We still need to talk," Rachel panted lowly.
Quinn cursed inwardly. Talking was what she had wanted to avoid. But there was no way she could seamlessly slip back into a relationship with Rachel when trust wasn't even formed yet and they both knew it. It would end disastrously. Again. And they were trying to learn from past mistakes.
"I have rehearsals right now," she said quietly in the silence that permeated between them. "Walk me to it?"
She nodded. "Sure."
Rachel started walking and Quinn pushed off the lockers to fall in step beside her. After a few agonizing seconds Rachel hesitantly reached out and grabbed Quinn's hand. When a rebuff wasn't forthcoming, she slowly intertwined their fingers and smiled the entire way down the hallway.
After walking Rachel to rehearsals, Quinn gathered her own books from her locker and walked outside the school to the parking lot. Her gaze landed over to the football field where she saw the Cheerios practice. She shook her head, dumping her books into her backseat and stepping into her car. Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel as she contemplated where she wanted to go. She didn't want to go home because what were the chances that her father was going to be there again? And as far as she knew, she wasn't welcomed in either Ronnie or Sheila's houses. But maybe there was at least one person that still liked her. She sucked her teeth, started her car and drove to Mack's.
She didn't kill the engine until she was sure Mack's father wasn't there. When she did, she stepped out and jogged up the stairs to her porch, knocking loudly on the door. Mack slept like a rock and it was normally really difficult to wake her.
Some rustling was heard then the blinds on a nearby window were split open. Quinn looked over as two eyes peeked out at her. The blinds were promptly shut and for thirty seconds she didn't hear anything at all. She banged loudly again. "I know someone's in there!" She banged loudly again and nothing was forthcoming. She sighed quietly, kicking her boots out against the screen door. "Open the door, Mack!"
The door swung open and Mack stood there in a white tank top, cut off jean shorts and a pair of boots. She looked to Quinn with a bored expression. "What are you doing here, traitor?"
"Look, Mack, don't start that shit with me, okay?" she asked quietly. "You weren't there; you don't know what happened."
"I know you jumped Ronnie from behind."
"It's a long story," Quinn gritted out. "I did that to ensure she didn't get in trouble. I can explain, really."
"Can you explain why your father was in school with you today?" Mack shot back. "Because I distinctly remember you telling me you didn't have one. He looked rich, too."
"I don't have a father," she insisted. "Not really. He just showed up."
"Stop lying, Quinn!" She leaned against the screen door to get closer. "All you've done is lie!"
Quinn stiffened at the accusation. "I haven't lied! You guys have been my friends from the beginning!"
"You said you didn't have a family. You said you didn't come from money!"
She tossed her hands up in frustration. "I'm not rich! You saw me working at McDonald's all summer!"
"What I saw was your father walking into school today with an expensive name brand suit on, Quinn. Explain that." Mack had her arms folded tightly across her chest in victory because there was no way Quinn could explain herself. "You lied."
"I didn't lie," Quinn insisted with a pained whisper. "Look, you guys are my best friends; I've treated you like family since day one."
"You have a family!" Mack shouted. "Fuck, Quinn, all those times—" she shook her head sadly. "All those times we all complained about how we don't have family or how we can barely make it month to month with the little food we had and you've had both all this time; you're selfish!"
"You don't know what you're talking about!"
Her eyes narrowed coldly. "Why don't you go home, Quinn? Why don't you go to your girlfriend, and money and two-parent household?"
"Because I don't have a two-parent household!"
"But you have two parents that you lied about just so you could fit in with us," Mack challenged. "And at least one of your parents is rich. Stop slumming with us as if you know what struggle is, Quinn."
She lost her combative edge at Mack's last words. Her shoulders slumped forward. "So, this is it? We're not friends anymore?"
Mack looked away. "I guess not."
She nodded, taking steps away from the house. "Okay," she said quietly. "Okay." She couldn't believe it. Just like that, she was friendless. It was over. No more smoking in the parking lot of Wal-Mart, no more sleeping over each other's houses, no more skipping class just to hang out. No more Mack, Ronnie or Sheila. It was over. No more family.
"Rachel, I don't know what's been going on with you lately but you have been bringing it, girl!" Coach Beiste said proudly once rehearsals finished.
"Girl knows how to get her sensual on," Artie boasted.
"We're really proud of you, Rachel," Emma told her. "And Blaine, I'm continually impressed with how seriously you're taking this role now. No more smiles."
He couldn't not smile at the compliment and Rachel echoed his smile with one of her own.
Everyone quickly dispersed from the auditorium but she stayed behind as she often times did after a rehearsal to practice more lines or to sing because acoustics in the auditorium were pretty perfect.
She heard footsteps near her from stage left and she sighed quietly, not at all wanting the visitor that came from the shadows.
"You're getting so much better," Shelby complimented.
"You think you can take half my glee club then compliment me and expect everything to be okay?" Rachel sniped bitterly as she turned towards the intruder. "We lost another singer today because of you."
Shelby took the verbal jabs in stride. "There's nothing wrong—"
"With a little friendly competition, I get it. But don't you understand that you're crushing my dreams? Do I mean so little to you?"
Where she tried to look big and intimidating, she ended up looking small and fragile. Like a little girl who just got her feelings hurt. That's what she always felt like in relation to Shelby.
"Rachel, honey, I apologize if I hurt you—"
Rachel laughed hollowly. "I am sick of people hurting me then turning around and apologizing for it as if that somehow obliterates how much pain I'm going to feel." She looked up at her. "Well, allow me to apologize because this time…I don't accept your apology."
She felt those damn tears crowding around the corners of her eyes and she couldn't flee the auditorium fast enough. All she ever knew was pain and sorrow and she just wanted to be happy and live an easy life for once and the one person that should be perpetuating that notion was screwing her over and stabbing her in the back whenever it benefited her.
She didn't need that and she didn't need Shelby.
She had been driving around aimlessly for an hour after she left the store and she really didn't know where to go or what to do. But she knew that she was really going to be blowing away her paycheck on gas if she didn't decide soon. So she put her car in reverse and drove onwards to the one place she always felt welcomed, even when she didn't feel welcomed.
"Hello, Mr. Berry," she greeted as warmly as she could when the door swung open. The smile on her face disappeared completely when she saw the storm of emotions flitting across Leroy's face.
"Good evening, Quinn," he said as diplomatically as he could. "I'm sorry but Rachel is a little upset right now."
"What's wrong with her?" Quinn asked before he even had a chance to elaborate.
Leroy winced, not sure of how much to give away. "She and Shelby seemed to be butting heads at school and—"
"Can I see her, sir?" she interrupted. "Please."
Against his better instincts, Leroy let her in and she charged up the stairs, the bag in her hand completely forgotten about. She opened Rachel's door and closed it behind her to find Rachel on her bed. Puffy, red-rimmed eyes met hers sadly.
"What's wrong?" Quinn asked tremulously.
Rachel wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her oversized sweater. She shook her head a little and stood up from the bed. She slowly walked over and Quinn took her into her arms as if comforting Rachel Berry was the most natural thing in the world for her. Rachel folded into her and Quinn wrapped one arm around her shoulders, the other around her waist and just held her there silently. She heard Rachel sniffle quietly and tightened her hold around her as if she was trying to squeeze the pain out of her body like snake poison.
"What's wrong?" she asked again.
"Don't hurt me," was all Rachel whispered. It was the only thing she could articulate, the only thing running through her mind because she felt like she was going to shatter any moment.
Quinn's grip tightened further still until she could swear she felt Rachel's heart beat against her own. Quinn didn't know. She didn't know how to love someone without hurting them and that thought scared her beyond belief because if there was anyone in this world that didn't deserve pain it was the girl in her arms in this moment.
She tossed the bag of hair dye that was in her hand onto Rachel's bed and tried her best to wrap her own body around her. To shield Rachel from the world.
And from herself.