Faberry Week 2014 – Part One

Day One: Scars

Trigger Warning: Self Harm, Drugs and Alcohol.

Parked outside her childhood home Quinn starts getting anxious, she knows the feeling perfectly well by now for it is one that only going back there triggers. If she could find the words to explain what being there makes her feel she would probably say something like a tornado in her stomach and something like, an earthquake going through her from her toes to her fingers that make her shake, a tidal wave of memories crashing through her, freezing her in her spot… or something like that.

She stares at the big, dark wooden, door through the window and fixates on the porch.

She remembers how many times she sat there as her parents argued inside, how many dinner parties were ruined by her father's bad temper and her mother's drinking. She remembers the first time Frannie joined her outside and gave her a cigarette, she refused at first but Frannie told her it would help her to focus on something other than what was going on inside and it did, it also turned into a tradition… for a little while, until Frannie started sneaking out whenever the fighting started and Quinn was back to sitting alone in that porch.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, she's always hated that house there's always been something dark and consuming about it in her mind and it's the one thing she always keeps running away from.

She opens her eyes and looks up to what used to be her bedroom, big windows with dark green curtains shielding any light from going inside.

She remembers the first time she got tired of waiting outside for the fighting to start and decided to try to sneak in unnoticed, it didn't work and she found herself pushed against a wall by her father, she remembers the smell of alcohol and the way his eyes were unfocused as he slurred the words out, she doesn't remember anything he said then but she remembers her mother sitting in the couch, eyes red from crying, the way her hand clutched at the glass she was holding and how she turned away as her father held her against that wall. That was also the very first time she punched anything, a wall to be specific, she didn't realize she was bleeding until she noticed the blood in the wall, it was a nasty cut that would leave her with her first scar . It was also the first time she realized that that was less hurtful than just sitting outside listening to all the yelling.

She absentmindedly runs her thumb over the scar in her right hand, over the knuckles; it was barely there by now but still present. With time just punching a wall wasn't enough, especially after Frannie left for college and Quinn was left completely alone.

After dinner that nigh, Quinn went upstairs to her room and locked herself in the bathroom,she was angry and sad and heartbroken; Frannie was leaving and she was still stuck there for two more years. Following her impulses, she punched the mirror with such strength that it shattered, pieces of glass falling down all over her arm leaving cuts over it, some small and some deep, but she didn't feel them, not really.

It was around 10 minutes later that someone called her name and knocked at the door, she didn't hear well because the voice was too quiet, but she hoped it wasn't her mother because the mess would be hard to explain. She stood up and opened the door a little bit, it was Frannie standing outside her bathroom with a bottle of whiskey and sad eyes, which grew twice in size as she realized Quinn was bleeding.

They had gotten drunk that night, neither of them were good at talking about feelings so they figured it would do them no harm to try it that way; Frannie apologized for leaving her and while it did hurt, Quinn understood because she knew she would do the same thing. Her arm stopped bleeding but Frannie had to pull out the shards of glass that were deep.

The scars from that day were little and barely visible, the ones in her arm at least. The big ones were buried deep within her.

Things got worse, much worse then. Sneaking out, partying, drinking and when alcohol just didn't do it then drugs started. It was one especially bad night, during the summer before senior year when the alcohol never stopped and the high turned into a rough trip that Quinn first ran a blade through her forearm; it would become a habit of hers, one difficult to give up. The scar is still there, 6 years later, it is still there… almost all of them are.

She remembers it, it's something she will never forget because it was the only thing that kept her relatively sane for the remainder of highschool.

She started to feel lightheaded and there was a small burning in the inside of her arm, maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. She knows she needs to calm down and soon, she starts rocking gently, hitting the seat with her back every time.

"Honey, hey. Everything's going to be alright, ok? I promise."

There's a hand on top of hers and then she feels her fingers intertwining with soft warm ones, she looks to her left and there she is, keeping her steady as always, bringing her back, reminding her to simply breathe. Her rock. Rachel Berry.

It was during the summer after her first year at Yale when Rachel Berry came crashing back into her life, literally crashing. Quinn was stumbling out of a friend's house on New York an early Sunday morning, still half drunk and the other half high, when turning around a corner she crashed into someone, someone who happened to be carrying scalding hot coffee which ended up all over her shirt. It didn't hurt, not really but Quinn felt bad for it so she offered to buy another, it took her a couple of seconds to realize who it was she had just crashed into.

That was 4 and a half years earlier, and here they are still, after a whole ton of fighting, of Rachel trying to get through Quinn and Quinn pushing her away on purpose. After many sleepless nights when Quinn would walk away after a fight and Rachel would worry about her doing something stupid. After Quinn had shown up on Rachel's apartment drunk and high, with blood running down her arm apologizing over and over again.

She looks over at the woman sitting beside her, how her eyes are calm and loving, she feels her thumb running soothingly over her scarred knuckles and silently thanks all the gods for her, because she's better because of her, in every way possible. It has not been an easy ride at all, it has taken every ounce of patience Rachel can muster and then some, and it has taken all of Quinn's energy to realize that Rachel is on her side and there to stay and that she only wants them to be better.

Spring break before their senior year and Rachel was spending it with Quinn, things weren't going so well, they kept arguing and Rachel knew there was something bothering Quinn but couldn't find a way to get through her. They had a fight, they both said things and pushed each other's red buttons which resulted in Quinn leaving, not that Rachel was surprised actually if she was being honest she appreciated the couple of hours of calm before Quinn came back, most likely high off her face… only this time Rachel had made up her mind and there was no turning back around.

And promptly, two hours later Quinn came in stumbling and barely holding herself up, both hands bruised and completely exhausted, neither said a thing and they both went to bed. When Quinn woke up it was to an empty bed and the smell of strong coffee, Rachel was already waiting for her in the couch where they had a long talk about where they stood and all the things that needed to change. They both agreed Quinn needed to stop storming out and using, they also agreed on Quinn trying to go talk to someone, that last one being the most difficult one; it took a lot of reassurance from Rachel that she didn't think there was anything "broken" about Quinn, but rather issues she couldn't help her with, crying from both sides and promises of staying together through it all.

Promises are made to be broken… but not theirs; never theirs. For they're still here, together, outside Quinn's greatest ghost ready to barge in.

"You're right, Rach. You're always right."

Quinn watches as Rachel's smile lights up her eyes and feels safe, she always feels safe when she's with Rachel.

"Yes, yes I am always right baby. What do you say we get out now and get this over this?"

Nervousness comes crashing down on her again but she smiles and nods, with Rachel holding her hand she's ready for everything.

"Alright, yeah… Sure, lets go."

Rachel kisses Quinn's hand and runs her fingers over the scars in her arm, they're all healed up now thanks to her, and the ones inside her heart are on the same path.