Just off the Key of Reason
Chapter 14: Hum Hallelujah
Quinn was crying. Though she was obviously trying to hide it, taking bunny bites of the vegan chili Rachel had made, a sort of terrified smile fixed on her face.
Tears were about to start rolling down her cheeks, but she kept eating it. Now that was, that was just true love.
Rachel had taken one bite of hers and nearly vomited into the sink. Now that her esophagus was permanently damaged, she was eating bread and milk. Quinn, apparently, refused to acknowledge that the chili was anything less than amazing, or anything more than tolerantly hot, and she plowed right on through.
Rachel winced as Quinn started sniffling. Her eyes had turned bloodshot and she was looking a little sweaty. Jesus Christ, what had gone wrong with that recipe?
"Honey, just stop." Rachel pleaded, reaching over to prevent Quinn's spoon from dunking into what was essentially lava, again. "I did something wrong. You're going to make yourself sick."
Quinn shook her head vigorously and breathed deeply. Well, at least her lungs were still functioning. Surely her other organs wouldn't last much longer.
"No, it's good." Quinn insisted, though she couldn't hide the frightened look in her eyes when she dunked her spoon in for another bite.
Rachel made a noise between a sigh and a laugh, and swiped the bowl away from Quinn to pour it down the sink. Or in the trash. It would probably cause the sink pipes to disintegrate and they'd have to call the plumber again.
"Hey." Quinn protested weakly. She looked dazed, like she didn't know what was happening. Rachel put a glass of chocolate milk in front of Quinn, and felt her girlfriend's forehead with a cool hand. God, she was on fire.
Rachel had ignited her girlfriend.
She watched Quinn give up the pretense of enjoying that meal, and chug her milk before laying her head down on the table wearily.
"I told you, you didn't have to eat it, honey." Rachel said, scooting closer and rubbing Quinn's back slowly.
Quinn whined into the tabletop, though it was muffled by her arms. "It tasted good. And I was hungry. And you said there were-were cookies for dessert…Now my stomach hurts."
Rachel rolled her eyes, but kept rubbing, and placed a cool hand on the back of Quinn's neck. She had said over and over to stop eating it. Quinn just didn't learn. Apparently her iron stomach had made her believe that she could handle this concoction.
Pssht. Even Barnaby wouldn't go near that pot of lava. Pot of fucking disaster.
Quinn sat up suddenly and looked at Rachel with a pained expression. Rachel knew that look. Unfortunately.
"Are you going to be sick?" she asked quickly.
Quinn was already standing up when she nodded, and Rachel followed her hurriedly into the bathroom, just in time to pull blonde hair out of Quinn's face.
Rachel grimaced as Quinn retched. She would make herself vomit if she focused too much on the noises, which, yeah, that would be exactly what they needed. God, Quinn probably felt like a Charizard right now. Hurling up flames. She looked more like Charmander. Tiny little Charmander.
Quinn emptied her stomach as Rachel just rubbed her back and focused on Quinn's cartoon fish shower curtain. That's a clownfish. That's a dolphin. That's the sound of vomiting. That's a seahorse. That's the smell of stomach acid.
Oh God, Rachel was seconds away from hurling when Quinn finally stopped and slumped back, breathing heavily. Rachel regained control of her own stomach through sheer determination and brushed the hair out of Quinn's face with a sympathetic smile.
"Better?" she asked, getting up to wet a washcloth and handing it to Quinn.
Quinn scrunched up her face. Obviously she wasn't better. Fire does take a while to pass through your system.
"Can I have my cookies now?" Quinn asked pathetically, as Rachel pulled her up and escorted her out to the couch in the living room. Okay, seriously?
"No, Quinn, that's ridiculous. Your tummy's upset and you need to let it settle down." Rachel adjusted Quinn so that her head was on Rachel's lap, and turned on the TV. Quinn rolled over to face it when she heard horses mentioned on Animal Planet.
"You poisoned me." Quinn mumbled. "Just so-just so you could have all the cookies."
Rachel wondered if Quinn knew what she was saying, but she snorted anyway. "Quinn, you're the cookie monster. Not me." Rachel ran her hands through Quinn's hair, gently pulling out the perpetual tangles. They really were both cookie monsters, and Rachel was just taking advantage of the fact that Quinn was obviously in no state of mind to formulate an argument right now.
"I don't like chili." Quinn said quietly into Rachel's thigh. "Or egg salad. I like tomatoes. And cookies."
Rachel tried not to laugh too much because it would jostle Quinn's head around. The hell was she talking about?
"I got sick the last time I ate it, too." Quinn continued, dropping an arm down to pet Cornelius as he plopped down in front of the couch. "My aunt made it for me. And it had onions in it."
Quinn was silent for a moment. "I don't like onions." She added.
Rachel nodded to herself. "I know you don't, honey."
"I threw up in the living room…And she wasn't-wasn't home, so I had to clean it up…It was gross."
Rachel nodded again. She would end up throwing up in the living room if Quinn didn't stop talking about vomit.
"Go to sleep, honey." She whispered. "We need you to feel better for our session tomorrow morning."
Quinn sighed deeply and pointed in the vague direction of the TV. "I want that one, too."
Rachel smiled when she saw the horse on TV. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen any time soon. They already had three animals, and Rachel was only completely sure about the location of one of them.
Hopefully they weren't eating the leftover chili. Then they'd be down to two.
~oooooooooooo~
"Okay, Quinn, we're going to play a game." Dr. Madison stated, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his desk. Quinn sat up from where she had been slumping in her chair and watched him with bright eyes.
"Well, it's less of a game, more of an exercise." Tom smiled when he saw Quinn's face fall a little bit. "But, I have a container of cookies that my wife made, which I'll give to you and Rachel if you try your best."
Rachel chuckled at Quinn's determined expression. Yeah, she got this.
"Today we're going to focus on eye contact and smooth speech, alright? I'm going to give you a little trick to help you when talking with strangers, and then I'm going to bring my receptionist in and we'll try it out."
Quinn bit her lip, but nodded. Rachel watched her proudly. Some people might call this a waste of time, but Quinn was really trying to improve her social skills. Plus, nothing that gave you cookies as a reward was a waste of time. Nothing.
Tom turned and directed a question at Rachel.
"Quinn has no problem looking you in the eyes, Rachel. Why do you think that is? Why is it so hard for her to maintain eye contact with others?"
God, Rachel didn't know. At least right off the top of her head. She knew why she looked in Quinn's eyes, because they were like shining beacons of lovable happiness and she just couldn't look away. She could tell what Quinn was feeling through her eyes.
Rachel made eye contact with everybody, except when she was eating popsicles or bananas, because that was just wrong.
"I love Rachel. I love her eyes." Quinn blurted, while Rachel was deep in thought about everything that was wrong with hot dogs.
Tom looked at Quinn. "But you don't love me, and you're starting to maintain eye contact a little better with me as well."
Quinn furrowed her brow and looked down at the octopus in her lap.
"I think it's…trust." Rachel interjected. "It takes her a while to trust people, but then she'll show us those gorgeous eyes and…"
Quinn flushed and nodded along. "I don't-I feel like people are, um, staring into my…soul? I guess. Like they can see…"
"Everything." Tom supplied. Quinn fiddled with a tentacle.
"Okay." Dr. Madison continued. "How about that little stutter that comes along when you're excited or nervous? I feel like you're incapable of lying, Quinn, or keeping things inside. Everything, including those little nervous tics, just externalizes itself automatically. What do you think?"
Quinn looked at Rachel unsurely, and Rachel took her hand. She actually completely agreed, but waited to see what Quinn would say. Quinn was a giant ball of inadvertent honesty.
"Um…I don't lie. That's…mean."
Rachel smiled and pulled Quinn's hand up to kiss it. Yes. Lying was mean. Quinn was totally right.
"It is mean." Tom agreed with a smile, turning to Rachel.
"Rachel, what do you think is going through Quinn's head as her words fall all over each other?"
Oh! Rachel knew this one. She felt like she knew exactly what was going through Quinn's head, and she smiled at Quinn before answering.
"When she's excited, she stutters because there's just so much to say, she can't get it out fast enough." Rachel knew the feeling. She was very excitable as well, but had learned to hold a lot of inside so she came off as less psychotic.
"And then when she's nervous, I think, Quinn, you try to get what you want to say out as fast as you can, so it's like you're...speaking less. I guess." Rachel looked at the doctor unsurely. Did that make any sense?
"I think you hit it right on the head, Rachel." Tom stated. "Now, Quinn, I have a trick that I give to all my patients who deal with anxiety in social situations."
Quinn sat up straighter and listened intently.
"We want you to think in pictures, which I think you do already. Maintain eye contact, but don't focus on what you're seeing. Focus on what you're saying, and picture that instead. I think in your case, it might help in slowing down your speech when you get a little carried away."
Quinn was quiet for a second. "Think in pictures." She stated.
Tom nodded. "Think in pictures. For you, maybe animals. Books…Are you ready to try it out?"
Rachel smiled when Quinn turned to look at her, and Quinn nodded resolutely.
"Yeah. I can do it."
Dr. Madison left the room, and Rachel leaned over the gap between the chairs to ruffle Quinn's hair, chuckling when Quinn shook it back out.
When Tom came back with Sara the secretary, she and Quinn moved to the couch, and Tom took the now empty seat next to Rachel. Sara greeted Quinn warmly, and Quinn gave her a shy smile.
Rachel watched Quinn's eyes flicker repeatedly from Sara's eyes to her collar. This had to be the most awkward way to have a conversation ever. Seriously. Rachel could not think of a more awkward situation at the moment.
Tom just sat there nonchalantly crossing his legs and looking expectantly at the women on the couch. Rachel almost broke into song it was so fucking quiet.
"Quinn, I heard you work at an animal rescue place. That must be fun." Sara started off brightly. Oh God, finally. Somebody's speaking.
"Yeah." Quinn nodded, rubbing her hands along the tops of her jeans. "Um, I get-I get to walk the dogs. And feed them. My boss says they're drawn to me…or something. I like the cats too. And rabbits, but they-they don't have any rabbits there."
Rachel smiled fondly at her girlfriend. She knew they'd have a rabbit to add to their damn fleet of animals soon. Quinn's eyes were moving slowly now. They weren't fixed on Sara's, but they weren't flickering madly around either.
"I used to have a rabbit!" Sara proclaimed. "His name was Snowy."
"Was he white?" Quinn asked, staring at a point just above Sara's head, then letting her gaze drift down slightly.
Sara shook her head. "He was actually black. My brother was trying to be ironic when he named him."
"My puppy's black." Quinn stated. "And white."
Yeah, black for the devil inside him masked by his angelic cuteness.
Sara looked surprised at the statement, but smiled. "I'll have to come over to the rescue sometime."
Quinn bit her lip and nodded.
"Do you go to the zoo a lot?" Sara asked.
To Rachel, this conversation seemed like it could be taking place between two kindergarteners. But Quinn was making eye contact, probably picturing fluffy bunnies or something, so whatever. Simple was good.
Quinn nodded.
"I like lions and bears." She stated, and right there, just- God, look at those eyes go. Freaking, laser eyes right there. Rachel grinned. That's her woman.
"My favorite animal would have to be zebras." Sara proclaimed.
Rachel watched Quinn start to rock back and forth in her seat a little. Her girlfriend took a few breaths and blinked exaggeratedly a couple times, like she was changing the pictures in her head.
"I love those too." Quinn replied, not slowly, but not in an unintelligible jumble either.
"Yeah?" Sara said. "I used to live in Honolulu, which is where I first saw them when I was a kid. At the zoo there."
Quinn's eyes brightened even more. "Really? I-We-on-on-" she broke off and took a breath before continuing. "On my birthday, we went to the Central Park Zoo. But they don't have zebras."
Sara smiled. "No, they don't. I don't know if you've been to the Bronx Zoo yet, but they have them there. And elephants."
Quinn's eyes widened and she whipped her head over to Rachel. Rachel tried not to dissolve into laughter, because, God, her girlfriend looked like she was four fucking years old. Rachel just nodded. She knew she'd be dragged to that damn zoo soon enough.
Quinn looked right back into Sara's eyes, and spoke seriously. "Thank you for telling me."
Sara grinned warmly at her. "No problem! You two should go sometime. You just make the cutest couple."
Quinn beamed at Rachel. God, Rachel loved her.
When Sara left, Quinn gave her a spontaneous hug. Probably for introducing her to new giant mammals to go visit. Rachel gave her a hug too, because she always gave them candy on their way out.
"Quinn, you did wonderfully today." Tom commented. Rachel nodded along with him, smiling at her girlfriend proudly.
Yeah, Rachel's girl was a pro at thinking in pictures. Better than everybody else. She was just amazing.
Quinn flushed and grinned.
"I'd like you to focus on what we did today for this week, okay Quinn? And then for the next few sessions, I'd like for you to come in by yourself. We'll talk a little about your past and get closer to the root of your issues, and I think there might be things you need to deal with by yourself before bringing Rachel in entirely."
Quinn was silent, and Rachel just watched her. She would accept whatever Quinn wanted to do.
"Do you think you're comfortable enough with me to do that?" Tom asked her gently.
Quinn licked her lips and nodded slowly. "I can still-I can still talk to Rachel about the things you say though, right? I want to-I want to make sure I'm…okay. So that I can be good for her." She said seriously.
There, right there. Mixed in with all the innocent and naiveté, with the youthful jubilance, was a rational adult capable of maintaining a healthy relationship. God, Rachel was about to cry. Leap and bounds, man.
"Of course. Rachel's part of your support system, now." Tom said, digging around under his desk and emerging with a plastic container of cookies.
Quinn's eyes followed them as he pushed them across the desk. Dr. Madison smiled at her, and congratulated her on the day's session again.
Rachel took the cookies to prevent Quinn from inhaling them on the way home. She had plans to practice Tom's "think in pictures" strategy with Quinn, but right now, she needed to look up the operating hours of the Bronx Zoo.
~oooooooooo~
Rachel hadn't been to karaoke since, well, like a month ago, but whatever. She missed it. It was just the perfect activity for her. Sing your heart out, sound better than everybody else, receive much drunken applause and praise. Just wonderful.
Now she hoped to share this with Quinn, and coerce her girlfriend into singing with her while providing opportunities for social interaction. She was a regular old psychologist by now. Quinn was refusing of course, as they sat around the apartment waiting for their friends to show up, but Rachel Berry would get her way. Or get drunk and forget everything and not care either way.
Puck texted her that he, Santana, and Brittany were in a cab downstairs, and Rachel locked Cornelius in the bathroom before leaving her apartment with Quinn in tow.
"Hi, everybody!" Rachel greeted excitedly, sliding into the back and gesturing for Quinn to scoot in next to her. Brittany beamed at them and gave them quick hugs, while Santana just stared and asked them why it took so long to get down there.
And if they were "banging."
Quinn's ears turned crimson and Rachel accidentally stomped on Santana's foot.
"So how's it going, Fabray? Has Rachel made you want to saw your own ears off and jump off a skyscraper yet?"
God, that was-well, no. Rachel could see how some people might feel that way when faced with her. She just had insurmountable, ungodly talent that could not be tamed. It must be intimidating for others.
Quinn shook her head and took a deep breath, then locked eyes with Santana. And stared. Just stared. She didn't say anything, and Santana looked slightly terrified, so Rachel laughed.
She patted Quinn's thigh encouragingly. "Good job, honey. Awesome way to start it off."
Quinn smiled, but didn't break eye contact.
"What are you picturing?" Rachel asked.
Puck was watching them like he had no idea what was going on, but whatever, he couldn't care less. Brittany was talking to the cabbie trying to get him to change the radio station.
"Barnaby." Quinn replied, eyes still fixed on Santana's.
Santana's jaw dropped. "You're picturing your fucking dog? What the hell?"
Quinn's eyes dropped to Santana's lips, and Rachel nudged her in the ribs.
"Santana, please don't swear. And it's because you have his eyes." Rachel stated. Really, anyone with brown eyes had Barnaby's eyes. But nobody could match the vibrancy in his, except Rachel of course, according to Quinn.
Santana looked like she was about to tell Rachel and Quinn to shove their little exercise up their-
"You know what, shove it up your-"
"San!" Brittany exclaimed, cutting her off and bouncing around as the cab driver finally changed the radio station to some top forty.
The karaoke bar was a small place, which pretty much ensured they wouldn't be mobbed by Rachel's fans, and it was filled with booths and small tables, all facing a stage that looked like it was about to collapse. Whatever. If Rachel died up there, or down there on the ground after the floor gave out, at least she'd be on a stage, doing what she loved. Singing…not Quinn. Unfortunately. For now.
They slipped into a booth, trying to ignore what sounded like a screech owl singing Bon Jovi, and a waiter came to take their drink orders.
Quinn sat up straighter in her seat, arm around Rachel, and made sure she was looking in his eyes when she ordered.
"Can I have milk, please?" she asked slowly, tapping her fingers against the pile of coasters.
God, it came out like James Bond. Quinn looked so serious. Double oh-seven would like milk. Please.
Rachel smiled and patted Quinn's thigh again, leaving her hand there this time. Santana was watching them with some kind of what the fuck expression. Whatever. She'd be drunk soon. Hell, she was probably drunk right now.
Kurt and Blaine joined them about half an hour into the evening, in the middle of Brittany's stunning rendition of "Baby Got Back," complete with dancing and gestures. She and Santana vanished for the rest of the night.
"Are you going to sing, Rachel?" Blaine asked, after signing himself and Kurt up to do the Bee Gees "You Should Be Dancing."
Rachel nodded excitedly, nearly knocking her drink over. No, she was not drunk. Just happy, because Quinn was happy and not overwhelmed, and playing table soccer with a crumpled up straw wrapper.
"Of course! And Quinn's going to sing with me." She stated.
Quinn choked on her milk. "Um-no, no, I'm not-I'm not going up there." She sputtered.
Blaine raised his eyebrows at them.
"Honey, pleeeease." Rachel whined. Maybe if she made herself seem drunk and pathetic Quinn would take pity on her. Or, no, cookies. Cookies solved all of life's problems.
"I'll make you cookies tomorrow." She bargained. Yeah, she would even if Quinn didn't get on the stage, but Quinn did not need to know that.
"Rachel, I don't-I can't…yet. Please-I'm sorry." Quinn stuttered quietly.
Rachel softened her smile and squeezed Quinn's thigh. She saw it as a victory that her hand had stayed there all of the night so far. And, no, she wouldn't actually force Quinn up there. No matter how much she wanted to hear her sing.
"No worries, bear. Don't be sorry, just, you better cheer for me, right?"
Quinn grinned and kissed her, and Blaine and Kurt oohed and awwed from the other side of the booth.
Rachel strode proudly up to the stage when it was her turn, pointed straight to the messy blonde head in the audience, and proclaimed, "This is for you big bear."
Rachel wasn't really in the state of mind to analyze the lyrics of Cher's "Believe," but, whatever they were, hopefully Quinn didn't take them literally. She was flailing around on stage by the time she hit the chorus, doing some sort of ridiculous dance because she saw Quinn laughing at it.
Do you believe in life after love
I can feel something inside me say
I really don't think you're strong enough,
Now
Rachel exaggerated every line. Okay, so maybe she was a little bit drunk, clutching her heart and belting it into the microphone, trying to make her voice sound like it was being electronically altered. It was difficult. Karaoke bars should provide voice box microphones for songs like this.
Rachel nearly walked right off the stage because she was so focused on Quinn's face. Cher would be proud though, because she sounded fucking amazing.
Quinn gave her a hug and kissed all over her flushed face when she sat back down and it finally dawned on her that she'd kind of made a fool of herself. Quinn just could not stop laughing though, so whatever. She could ignore the mockery of Kurt and Blaine because really, they were about to sing "You Should be Dancing." There was just no room to make fun of Rachel with that.
Quinn happily said goodbye, like, audibly, in full sentences, to all their friends. Well the ones who hadn't vanished to go have sex.
So, Kurt and Blaine.
And she kept eye contact with the cabbie for quite a few seconds when she told him where to go, and Rachel just watched proudly. And a little drunkenly.
She was sober by the time she was lying in bed, Quinn's icicle feet pressed up against her shins, Jelly on the pillow next to her face, Barnaby at the foot of the bed, and Cornelius tucked into Quinn's side.
Full house, man.
"Rachel." Quinn whispered hesitantly. "Are you awake?"
Rachel smiled, though her eyes were closed. She hummed in affirmation.
Quinn was silent for a minute, and Rachel let her process what she wanted to say instead of dragging it out of her.
"I want to sing you a song." Quinn said softly.
Wait, like right now?
Rachel opened her eyes and blinked in the darkness, then rolled over and waited until she could see Quinn's face. She was elated on the inside. Really, singing was the key to Rachel Berry's heart. If you weren't Quinn Fabray.
Quinn just held the key no matter what.
"I would love for you to sing me a song." Rachel said, just as quietly.
Quinn rubbed the balding fur on Pooh's cheek and swallowed. "I used to sing it to myself every night, because I-because I wanted someone to, um, feel like that…about me. I guess. Or someone I could feel that way about…Or for."
Rachel let her ramble a little and brushed blonde hair out of hazel eyes as she did so.
"Go ahead, honey." She whispered.
"You have to promise not to cry." Quinn said sagely. "Because I'm sort of an awesome singer. Not as amazing as you, but I'm really fantastic Rachel."
Rachel chuckled and shoved her in the shoulder. "Sing to me, woman."
Quinn licked her lips and Rachel settled her head on Quinn's chest as Quinn started singing. Very quietly.
There comes a time, a time in everyone's life
Where nothing seems to go your way
Where nothing seems to turn out right
There may come a time, you just can't seem to find your place
For every door you open, seems like you get two slammed in your face
Rachel actually recognized this. It was Ray Lamontagne, and God, it was beautiful. Quinn was right. She was fucking seconds away from crying, and she focused on pressing Quinn's reptile feet into her legs as some sort of shock therapy to prevent the tears from falling. Quinn got a little louder as she went on.
That's when you need someone, someone that you can call.
And when all your faith is gone
Feels like you can't go on
Let it be me
Let it be me
If it's a friend that you need
Let it be me
Let it be me
Quinn trailed off at the end and Rachel tried to rein in her emotions so that she could speak. It just wasn't happening. God, even freezing feet and kitten breath in her face couldn't stop the tears.
Quinn must have heard a sniffle because she wrapped an arm around Rachel's back. "Are you okay?" she asked. "I'm sorry. I didn't-"
"No. God, Quinn…" Rachel interrupted. Pull it the fuck together woman. "God, I love you. Your voice is beautiful. And whoever made you feel like-like you needed-like you can't-God, I can't even…"
Really, get a goddamned hold of yourself.
"No matter what happens, I'll always be your friend, Quinn. And I know you'll always be mine."
And hopefully more. Of course.
"And more." Quinn said softly into Rachel's hair.
Rachel chuckled. "Of course."
"So you weren't crying because I sounded better than you?" Quinn asked a moment later. Rachel could hear that little smile in her voice.
Rachel ignored this question and cuddled closer to Quinn, displacing multiple real and stuffed animals on her way.
She couldn't tell who was snoring, and who was fidgeting, and what the hell that lump was pressing into her stomach, but she loved it. And she fell asleep immediately.