"Pain is strange. A cat killing a bird, a car accident, a fire... Pain arrives, BANG, and there it is, it sits on you. It's real. And to anybody watching, you look foolish. Like you've suddenly become an idiot. There's no cure for it unless you know somebody who understands how you feel, and knows how to help."
– Charles Bukowski –
Sitting in this way too comfortable armchair and speaking of her thoughts and feelings was not something Quinn was okay with. She was just not. It was her second appointment and still all she could feel was the falseness of it all. It was wrong, so goddamn wrong. She knew she had to be there though. She knew she had to if she ever wanted to be happy again. But wouldn't again imply that she had been happy at some point? Had she really ever been truly happy?
She remembers moments in her childhood, playing in the yard with her oh so perfect sister in their oh so perfect sundresses, sitting on the strings and feeling the skirt of her dress slightly lift up due to the wind and her slight sway. She remembers feeling free – but she also remembers that those moments were brief and just seconds later her mother would tell them to get inside before they got any dirt on their dresses. Really, the swings in the backyard were just for show. They rarely used it and when they did it was a short pleasure only waiting to end. It was just one more puzzle piece in their picture perfect family. One more piece in order to make everyone believe that this family was everything anyone could ever dream of.
She remembers falling asleep in her father's lap while he watched football. She felt content and loved but even back then she was all too aware of the smell of alcohol surrounding them. She was aware of it because it had always been there. There was a point in her life when she thought that it was normal; that that's how things were supposed to be. She just didn't know any better.
She remembers her sister leaving for college and thinking that it was finally her time to be her parent's favorite; her time to get all the love she was so desperately longing for. She remembered freshman year; how happy she felt to get into the cheerleading squad but she also remembers how much she hated being shouted at by Sue. She had had her fair share of that at home already. She remembers how proud she was of herself when Sue made her head cheerleader but she also remembered that her parents didn't seem to care much, already bordering on drunk when she came home from practice to tell them.
She remembers finding out about her pregnancy and how it all went down from there. She can still feel her heart shattering when she thought of her father calling her a disappointment. She remembers holding Beth in her arms right after she was born and how truly happy she felt in that moment. But she also remembers how empty she felt after giving her up, even though she knew that she made the right decision for her daughter.
In her previous session, Quinn only talked about the essentials. She told her therapist about her family, about Russel, her mother and – albeit hesitantly – about Franny as well. Eventually she even told her about Lucy. She told her about Beth, about cheerleading, about glee club, getting into Yale and the accident…god the accident.
"So, you seem even more uncomfortable than last time, Quinn. Did something happen since Wednesday?"
Shaking her head out of her musings, she turned her gaze from her hands in her lap to look up at the brunette doctor, her mask perfectly in place. "No, just some reunions," she answered.
"Right, I remember you mentioning that some of your friends from glee club are in New York as well. I thought you said you weren't planning on meeting up with them yet. What changed?"
"I didn't plan to. Santana tricked me into seeing them," the blonde said bitterly.
"It seems to me that you are not happy about seeing them again, then?"
"It's complicated," she gritted out. Feeling her headache coming back full force, she grabbed her glass of water and took a sip.
"That's how far we got last time. You look tired. Is there any reason for that?"
"I didn't get enough sleep," she replied matter-of-factly.
"Obviously," the brunette nodded, observing how the blonde rubbed her temple and squeezed her eyes shut from time to time to block out the sunlight coming in through the large windows. "Care to tell me why you got drunk, Quinn? From what you told me last time, it's not something you do often."
"I just felt like it," she said shrugging.
"Okay, this is not going anywhere. I would like to talk to you about your accident, Quinn. How has it affected you?"
"I don't know. It just changed me," she whispered while staring off into space.
"That's normal but it's not what I meant. How has it affected your health?"
xxxxxxxxxx
Therapy was exhausting. Quinn has no idea how she was supposed to deal with this twice a week. Sure, it was only an hour but it felt so much longer and she felt emotionally drained even though Dr. Bennett was still careful to not push too hard and they were still only scratching at the surface of everything. What would it feel like once they got to her very core? What would it feel like once she had to fully admit that she was not just damaged but actually broken into a thousand shreds? What if she was beyond repair? What if there was nothing Dr. Bennett could do for her in the end?
Slowly, she made her way back to Santana's apartment, once more walking instead of taking a taxi, fooling herself into thinking that she just wanted some fresh air. Surely, it had nothing to do with the fact that she despised being in a car.
Arriving at the building, she made her way up the five flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator – damn her stupid claustrophobia. It's as if she could just never catch a break. Exhausted she stuck the keys in the lock and opened the door, the pain in her legs a familiar reminder of just how close she had been to the edge. Noticing that the shower was running, she went into the kitchen to prepare a late breakfast, seeing as she couldn't bring herself to get anything other than water and coffee into her system yet. Finding the kitchen all tidied up – the Latina's apartment was surprisingly clean – she just assumed that her friend hadn't had any food yet either and prepared something for her as well.
When the brunette came into the kitchen with her hair still wet and with only some shorts and a tank top, she placed the plates on the table and motioned for her to take a seat.
After several minutes of eating in silence and Quinn being on edge around her former best friend, she finally couldn't take it anymore and spoke up. "Just ask away already, will you?"
"Sorry," the Latina said genuinely. "I didn't know how to start and I didn't want to push."
Seeing her friend like this was not something she was used to. The Latina was never one to beat around the bush. She had always been straight forward. How could things have changed so much during the last months?
"I met Rachel earlier," Quinn shared to her own surprise.
"And you're still alive? Wow. What happened?"
"We talked," Quinn said and shrugged.
"You mean she talked, right? Because normally that's what a conversation with Rachel Berry looks like," the Latina said and in a matter of seconds Quinn felt like the old Santana was back.
"Stop it Santana," she said, feeling protective of the short brunette.
"Sure," the brunette answered while rolling her eyes. "So, what did you talk about?"
"Nothing much. I didn't have much time. We're meeting up for coffee tomorrow."
"Okaaaay, now that's unexpected, but also kinda impressive. What did you threaten her with, Q?"
"I didn't do anything to her. She initiated it."
"Weird," the Latina said frowning. "Anyways, why don't you tell me where you went this morning, so we can finally figure this out?"
"I went to see my therapist," the blonde said without any hesitation.
"You what now? Why are you seeing a therapist? And is this where you've been every day?"
"I've been having problems ever since the accident," the blonde said feeling her appetite leave her. "Okay, to be honest, I already had problems before but the accident was my breaking point. And to answer your other question: No, I haven't been at therapy all day. That wouldn't really make sense now, would it?"
"Alright, then where have you been? Stop the fucking stalling and just tell me already."
"I'm not stalling. It's just a lot to come to terms with. Things haven't been easy for me, S." The blonde looked at her counterpart and found something she rarely did with the brunette; she found sympathy and compassion. Santana didn't say anything, silently urging her to continue.
"I have therapy twice a week. My first session was Wednesday morning. Other than that I've been at universities – Columbia and NYU – to figure out my transfer. I've also been searching for an apartment because I don't want to live on campus like I did at Yale."
The Latina noticed her friend falter and was sure that there was something the blonde was still keeping from her. "So, are these the medical reasons that brought you here? Because, I'm pretty sure you would have found a therapist in New Heaven as well," she said, careful not to push her friend too hard.
"No, therapy is not the reason for me being here. I'm also here for physical therapy for my legs and to see a specialist," Quinn answered, making sure to not make eye contact with the brunette sitting across from her.
"What are you seeing a specialist for?"
"It's complicated," she found herself saying again. Everything about her life was complicated. Nothing ever came easy to Quinn Fabray, except for maybe her grades.
"I have all the time in the world," the Latina said calmly.
Sighing a little, the blonde thought of the best way to explain her situation. "You remember how the accident injured my spinal cord, right?" After seeing the brunette nod sadly she continued. "The injury didn't just affect my ability to walk. It also led to a thoracic trauma. That's a trauma of the chest. I had several broken ribs on my left side, where the car hit me." Seeing her friend wince, Quinn stopped to take a sip of her water, leaving her some time to process things. "The rib fractures combined with my fractured sternum caused the trauma. I sometimes have problems breathing because of it. That's why I'm seeing a specialist."
Santana gulped. This really was a lot to take in. "And you ignored this for the last months before deciding to get help?"
"No, I thought it would go away. I was told that a few injuries might take a few months to properly heal. During one of my classes, I collapsed because I couldn't breathe properly and was taken to the hospital. They told me that the damage my ribs had made, seeing as four of them were broken and one more had a hairline crack, was a lot worse than my doctor had realized and my sternum still wasn't fully healed. They told me about a specialist here in New York and recommended seeing him."
The Latina was speechless; simply speechless. She felt numb. How could she have not seen any of this? Quinn struggling while still in her wheelchair and her labored breathing after singing in glee club. The hard time she had preparing for Nationals. The breaks she went on, not returning for over half an hour.
How could she have thought that an accident like that would not have any repercussions? How could she have thought that as soon as she was on her feet again, the accident could just be forgotten?
How could she have been that blind? And how could she let Quinn ignore her? She should have done more. Could she have done more?
"How bad is it?" It was lame. She knew that but it was all she could think of at that very moment.
"I'll be fine, S. Stop worrying. It doesn't suit you. Someone might think you actually give a damn," the blonde said, winking at her friend.
"Stop with the fucking jokes. This is not funny, Q! It's just not! How could you not tell me any of this? Why did you even go for that stupid run with me? Just think of what could have happened. And I wouldn't have had the slightest idea what to do."
"My doctor says it's okay to go for runs. I just have to make sure to not overdo. It's actually healthy. The pain is just worse when it's cold, that's all."
The brunette just shook her head. None of this made sense. None of it made any damn sense. Why did this have to happen to Quinn? Why the hell Quinn? She had been through so much. This wasn't fair. It just wasn't.
Noticing her friend's inner battle, Quinn took her hands in hers and waited for her to look up. "Everything is going to be fine," she whispered, trying to reassure the brunette and maybe – just maybe – trying to reassure herself a little as well.
xxxxxxxxxx
When Rachel came home from class in the evening, Kurt was already in the kitchen cooking dinner for the both of them. It smelled delicious and she noticed with the set table and the red wine in the middle, that her best friend was making an effort.
"What is all this for Kurt?"
"Hey Rach! Just sit down. Food will be ready in a minute. You can help yourself with the wine," he said without turning around.
After shaking out of her coat and shuffling of her boots, Rachel poured Kurt and herself some wine and sat down at the table. A few moments later, Kurt brought the food and sat down opposite her.
"Kurt, is there a special occasion? Do we have a reason to celebrate?"
"No, we don't. I wanted to apologize, actually. I'm sorry for the way I acted last night, Rachel. It was uncalled for and I should have been there for you. This is me trying to make it up to you."
"Oh Kurt, you didn't have to do this. It's fine. I guess you were right. I was kind of asking for it."
"Yes, I still think what you did was a bit harsh but I should have been there for you anyway. Especially seeing as this whole thing was my idea. You're my best friend. It's what friends do. They stand by you even if you're wrong, right?"
The brunette smiled at her friend, nodding shyly. She loved Kurt. He was like the brother she never had and always wished for. He was probably one of the best things in her life; after all he was her Glinda.
"I actually have to thank you for last night though. It gave me the push that I needed."
"What do you mean? Is there something you're not telling me, Rachel?" And within second he was back to his gossipy nature and grinning at her, curious like a five year old child. Yes, she really loved him.
"I met Quinn this morning and we're meeting up for coffee tomorrow," she told him, laughing at how wide his eyes went and resisting the urge to tap his chin in order to shut his mouth.
Early update! I actually found time to write this weekend and thought I shouldn't keep you waiting for an update as long as I normally do. It's also the longest chapter so far. I hope you liked it. Hit the button and let me know ;)
Next chapter: The "coffee date"!
I hope my hours of research in my university's library helped to make the medical part of this chapter actually make sense.