Happy Birthdays, Happy Endings
A.N.: Potentially trigger-y. Physically violent confrontation between R & Q ahead.
...
Blood rages through her veins like liquid fire, igniting her and making her capable of ignoring the pain searing through her ankle at every step. Quinn can hardly see through her fury. There are no coherent thoughts at this point; all Quinn wants is out.
And god damn it she's almost made it but Rachel is there, sliding herself between Quinn and the door and ripping Quinn's hand off of the doorknob.
Quinn screams in frustration and tries to shove Rachel away, but the small girl will not budge. There is no conscious control on Quinn's part now; fists begin to fly, nails claw, feet kick and Rachel simply stands there and takes it.
A fist connects with the wooden door frame and the pain surges white-hot through Quinn's arm. Rachel takes this opportunity to grab the injured hand and capture the other and hold them tight to her chest.
Quinn attempts to kick her, but she's off balance now; a poorly aimed kick with the hurt foot sails into the door and Quinn collapses, sobbing, to the floor. Rachel gathers the hysterical girl into her arms, focusing immediately to the source of the pain and gently rubbing it away with nimble fingers.
It takes a little while, but Quinn's breathing slowly returns to normal and she stops struggling in Rachel's arms. Rachel's hands work magic on her knotted back and the rough terrain of her face. Tears are whisked and kissed away and the simple pressure of tight circles releases the tension in her back, all accompanied by the calm hum of Rachel's voice.
When Quinn can finally speak again, she's stricken by the scratches on Rachel's face and the red patches quickly forming into bruises on her arms.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Quinn mumbles frantically, her hands coming to cover her mouth. "Oh God, Rachel... oh God. What have I done?"
Rachel can clearly see the terror of realization written all over Quinn's face and recognizes the signs of a panic attack cresting in the girl shivering in her arms.
She moves quickly. Summoning all of her strength, she stands and transitions to the couch, keeping Quinn in her lap and draping a blanket over them both. Quinn is trembling violently now and can't stop crying. Her cheeks are flushed and Rachel can see her chest heave under the thin fabric of her shirt.
"Quiii-innn," Rachel croons softly, running her fingers gently through Quinn's hair. Quinn flinches and cowers away, curling into herself as much as she can as the tears starts anew. "Quinn, it's okay. You're okay. I've got you. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere sweetheart. I'm right here. I've got you."
Her eyes are still slammed shut but she shudders as she tries to relax. "Say it again," she croaks, her fingers desperately seeking Rachel's under the blanket. Rachel grabs her hand and holds on tight.
"I'm right here, baby girl. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere."
It takes her about fifteen minutes, but eventually Quinn is breathing evenly again. Her cheeks have returned to their normal color and the tears have subsided. Rachel sighs in relief and brushes a few damp locks off of Quinn's forehead.
Quinn's eyes flutter open and Rachel is there instantly, cooing softly to her and running her fingers through her hair. The look of fear in the girl's eyes slowly fades and her eyes slip closed once again.
"I'm so sorry, Rachel." Sadness and regret drip off of every syllable, and Rachel's heart seizes in her chest.
"It's okay, Quinn. You needed that. It's okay."
Quinn looks for a moment like she wants to fight Rachel's statement. Instead, she curls herself more tightly against Rachel and nuzzles her nose into Rachel's shirt.
Rachel smiles, thinking to herself that she really must have it bad—this girl had just hit her and all she can think about is how adorable she looks and how right she feels there, safe in her arms.