final chapter, guys. at last. i feel kind of sad that this is the end, but this is also the appropriate way to end this story.
this is not just a love story. yes, it revolves around Quinn and Rachel but it is much more than that. this is about Quinn's growth and maturity and her trying to find her away in a room of complete darkness. i'll be honest, i guess i incorporated a lot of myself into Quinn. i am a very unhappy person, i'm still trying to work around my issues. i have major daddy issues, but it's mostly on me. i have mommy issues too. i have parental issues, in general. and i guess i've poured a lot of my emotions into Quinn's many monologues with everyone in this story. this story is a way for me to express myself. it kind of worked, but i still have much more to work through.
i can't tell you how invigorated i am to know that this story has managed to help so many people, namely LaurenKnight13. your reviews are often - if not always - the best. it makes me feel proud of myself that i've managed to help some people with this story. so yeah, if you feel this story is helpful, i'm happy for you.
anyway, that's the end of this really long authors' note. thank you to everyone who's loved and supported and reviewed and favorited this story. i can't thank you enough. this will probably be my last faberry fic, just so you know, unless i find inspiration for another again. i may write a monologue. i will definitely compile a list of grandma's quotes for you guys. it'll take time though cuz i'm pretty busy with college right now.
now, read, ponder and enjoy.
p.s. i definitely do not have such a wise person like Grammy in my life.
Quinn was a self-admitted reckless driver. Everyone who'd sat in the same car as her would say the same. But even so, she still wasn't Vin Diesel or Paul Walker. She couldn't race – well, not yet – which was why she ended up nearly prohibited from entering the music hall if it wasn't for Rachel sweet-talking the guard and helping her in.
"You're early," Rachel commented sarcastically, her lips twitched into an amused smirk.
Quinn rolled her eyes and groaned pointedly. "I don't wanna talk about it. I tried my best to get here as early as possible."
"Better late than never, isn't it?"
They stopped at one row where her family was seated. They left a seat for her next to her father. He was staring up at her questioningly. She sat herself down and expected Rachel to sit down in the row as well, only to see her walking further down the stairs. Quinn stopped her by holding onto her hand, temporarily forgetting that her father was sitting next to her.
Rachel turned to her, seeing the askance look Quinn was sending her. "I booked my seat down there. Don't worry. I'll join you later." Rachel glanced cautiously at the man next to Quinn before patting Quinn's hand and walking away.
"You're late." She looked to her never-not-blunt father. "How can you be late to your own sister's showcase?"
He sounded frustrated and impatient and anxious. All of those rolled into his low and stern voice equalled scary. If this was a situation happening one year or more ago, she would have cowered and stayed quiet like a mouse. But now, since their confrontation and their long talk and them laying it all out on the table, she was no longer afraid of him.
And that was the best thing ever.
"I'll explain everything to you later," she coolly replied, meeting his eyes. He sighed, crossed his arms and looked back to the front just as the lights dimmed and the curtains drawn.
She brushed her hair back and watched as a young boy with ebony skin and curly hair stroll out from the left of the stage, dressed to the nines like a mini pianist. He stopped in front of the gleaming Yamaha piano – she would know because she'd played that thing for a long time – and bowed. And then he crawled his way up the bench.
Her eyelids fluttered close as the first string of melody drifted towards the audience, slithering into her ears and triggering her eardrums with its soft rhythm. Brought back to the time when she first started playing in a showcase, a little younger than the boy, her lips quirked into a nostalgic smile. The excitement; the jitters; the addiction of playing the musical instrument; they were all still deeply imprinted into her memories.
Once upon a time, she was such an enthusiastic kid, so enthused to play the piano for the crowd to hear, to make her father proud. The dress she wore was sunshine yellow with laces sewn onto the shoulders. Her father had praised her to be a beautiful girl and bought her lollipop to lessen the nerves she felt.
Her lids lifted in a gentle motion and she subtly turned to look at the man, who was attentively watching the boy play with a small frown and his head tipped forward. There was no way to deny that he used to be warm and charming and he never shied away from showing his love for her. She couldn't remember when he started to become cold and distant, so adamant on her being the best of the best. She could remember, though, the sweets and the laughter and the piggyback rides when she was exhausted.
Despite all the emotional damage he'd inflicted upon her, she couldn't deny that she wouldn't replace her father with anyone else.
Her lips widened into a loving one and she shifted closer to her father, lacing her arm through the crook of his elbow and laying her head on his shoulder. She ignored his sudden tenseness and snuggled into his warmth. She inhaled and smiled wider as the unique scent of her father filled her nostrils. She hummed pleasurably when he relaxed and moved closer to her as well.
God knows how many other musicians playing a variety of instruments – trumpet, violin, cello, you name it – Frannie Fabray finally emerged behind the curtains. Quinn stifled a snort at the outfit she was sporting: a blue blouse with a pair of white trousers. Her mother was possibly blowing a gasket next to Russell right now.
As if she could sense Quinn's hidden mirth, Frannie looked straight at her from above the stage, smirking and glaring at the same time. Quinn grinned. Frannie bowed and then went to the piano. Quinn lifted her head from her father's shoulder to pay full attention to her sister's final showcase.
When Frannie hit her first key, it came out confident and sure. Quinn's teasing grin turned into a proud one as she watched her sister play flawlessly, without pause or uncertainty. It was like Frannie Fabray understood the meaning behind this performance – the last time she would ever perform on this stage – and she was whipping out her best performance to wow the crowd for the last time.
Well, consider them wowed.
Quinn averted her gaze to search for Rachel and she smirked when she saw the gob smacked expression on the woman's face. Quinn mentally sent the message: You were a part of this amazingness. She was going to say it right to Rachel's face later but right now, she was going to tell Rachel this mentally, even though Rachel couldn't hear her.
Not two seconds later, Rachel's head turned, meeting her eyes over the rows of seats separating them. There was a shimmer of tears in her eyes and her lips were extended into a vivacious smile. The look in her eyes though, it was like Rachel could hear her thoughts even though she didn't say it out loud.
Quinn's mouth opened in shock a little as she shared eye contact with Rachel.
I wish it were you, she heard in her mind and she stifled her gasp.
She covered her mouth with her palm as her eyes welled up with surprised tears. She swallowed, removed her hand and displayed gentle smile. This is enough.
Rachel's chest deflated, like she was sighing. I love you.
I love you too.
She cut her mother in line and rushed over to her sister who was finally walking out from backstage and threw her arms around her. Frannie made a noise in surprise and hugged her back. Quinn laughed into Frannie's ear and kissed the side of her cheek.
"You were wonderful up there," she mused.
Frannie laughed. "I wish you were up there with me."
Quinn shook her head, pulling away from Frannie and going from holding her body to her hands. "I wouldn't want to steal your spotlight."
"I wouldn't mind you stealing my spotlight," Frannie naturally replied with a wink.
"Alright, we all know you're the closest sisters on Earth but some of us want to hug the star of the evening as well," her grandfather's impatient but teasing voice interrupted their banter.
Quinn shot them an apologetic look and stepped back to let her mother take her place. She went to stand next to Rachel who was just staring at her sister with pride. "You are quite a marvelous tutor," she commented softly, her eyes on her sister and her mother talking to each other.
Rachel hummed. "It wouldn't happen if she didn't have the talent for it."
Quinn chuckled, amused at her girlfriend's humility that never seemed to have a limit. She wrapped an arm around Rachel's shoulders and planted a prolonged kiss on her cheek, leaving a faint mark of pink on her tanned skin. When she drew back, Rachel's eyes were widened in surprise – probably at her blatant display of affection.
She looked up to see Russell staring at them with a slight struggle in his eyes. At least he didn't burst into a raging monster and demand that they stay away from each other. She watched as he inhaled deeply, getting rid of the look in his eyes and look at her.
"So why were you late today?" he queried.
She bit her lip and turned her head to see that everyone had already finished with their hugging and congratulating and were all staring at her with their full attention. "Well, Santana wanted to leave a mark of the Unholy Trinity before we officially leaves the school."
"Unholy what?" Frannie muttered.
"The Unholy Trinity," Quinn clarified. "That's Brittany, Santana and I call us."
"Is it necessary to call yourself Unholy?" Judy mourned.
"Santana came up with it," Quinn explained and their faces loosened in understanding at that. She couldn't not chuckle at that hilarious reaction. "Okay, this is a little bit on the wrong side of the law so are you sure you want to listen to this?" She winced as her mother's jaw dropped and her father's stony face almost twisted with rage. She stopped herself from smacking Rachel when the woman made a quiet snort. "It's nothing big."
"Let me guess. Vandalism?" Russell predicted.
Quinn nodded vigorously, thrusting a hand in his direction. "That's it. That's just it. It's nothing big. I'm sure you've all done the same when you graduated high school."
"I don't wanna hear it," Russell declared. "I'm not even going to try to forbid you from seeing Santana again because I know it'll never work." He started walking away, his hands behind his back.
"Like I always said, Daddy knows best."
"You never said that," he threw over his back. Frannie burst out laughing while Quinn pouted. "And you're still grounded."
Being grounded on the day you graduate was not fun. Quinn received tons of texts that night from numerous people – people she was familiar with and people she was not familiar with (god knows how they got her number) – all asking her why she didn't come followed by about two dozen question marks and twenty dozen exclamation points.
What made it worse was the drunk dial she got from Santana at two in the morning. She wasn't really annoyed at the drunk dial; what she was annoyed at was the sounds she heard from the drunk dial – or butt dial, she couldn't care less. She had listen to the moans and the whispers for a good two minutes before she finally understood what was happening and she instantly hung up the phone, grunting in displease.
She hadn't had sex in almost a week! She was almost flinging herself out the window in frustration and there her best friend was, enjoying the very thing Quinn was deprived of like there was no tomorrow.
Santana wasn't even the least bit mortified when Quinn called her and told her about it the next day. In fact, the girl's actual words were: "Well, that'll at least give you motivation to live through the next two days." Safe to say, Quinn hung up just as Santana was doing her evil cackles into the speaker.
On Monday – the day she regained her freedom at last – she practically flounced down the stairs with a big grin. Her sister smirked when she saw her entering the dining room, followed by amused smiles from her mother and grandfather. Her father was carrying a stony face as usual.
"So, Quinn, what do you have planned for today?" Russell asked, closing the newspaper he was reading and putting on his side on the table. He clasped his hands, propping his elbows on the table. "Seeing Rachel, by any chance?"
"Yes," she responded easily. She wasn't going to hide anything from him anymore. She'd had experience in that and it didn't feel so good. "Well, tonight actually," she corrected.
Russell frowned while Judy appeared a little unnerved at that information. "Why?"
"Miss Avery – Skye – she's invited me over to her house for dinner. And she's friends with Rachel. So I'm gonna see Rachel at Skye's place tonight." Her family members were all practically frowning in confusion. Quinn sighed, already partly giving up because this was going to be quite the long story. So she concluded with, "It's a long story."
"We have time," Grandpa Fred almost immediately responded. Quinn shot him a dirty look. He only smiled and waved for her to continue.
And so Quinn launched into a story with which she didn't know how to shorten of how she became Skye's favorite student and how she kind of crushed on Skye and then she met Rachel and Skye's priceless advices on how to deal with her emotions and Skye's girlfriend and how Rachel knew Jemma which would mean her knowing Skye as well and how Skye has become a dear friend and that Quinn had been invited over for dinner because Skye's girlfriend insisted on it.
Mercedes had, at some point, joined them at the other end of the dining table, standing behind the chair. And after a long-winded explanation that left her breathless, they were all carrying a variety of expression – all of them in the category of disbelief and shock. She just sat there, casually eating her breakfast, giving them time to process the whole slew of information she just relayed.
She didn't blame them. She had difficulties understanding her life at times.
"Never let it be said that you had an uninteresting life," was the only thing her grandfather had to say after around ten minutes of stunned silence.
"I want to meet these people," her father voiced, as if Grandpa Fred had given them permission to speak by speaking himself.
Judy immediately nodded quite aggressively, her eyes alight with excitement. "Yes, yes, me too."
Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Which people?"
"Your teacher, your teacher's girlfriend and your girlfriend who's best friends with your teacher's girlfriend," Russell piped off with no difficulties.
Quinn almost leaped up with pride at her father for being able to word that statement without so much as a sign of revulsion. Improvement! She bit her lip to keep back from smiling and made a small nod.
"I'll see what I can do."
"Good."
Oh dear. She was too late. By the time Quinn made it to the top of the stairs, her father was already standing at the front door. She could see from his side profile that he was considering Rachel with what they would call 'the evil eye'. She felt pity for Rachel for being subjected to this routine.
"Dad, stop intimidating Rachel," she called as she skipped down the stairs two steps at a time.
She shot an apologetic look at an obviously relieved Rachel as she pulled her father away by the forearm. He just grunted; cast Rachel another look before looking at Quinn.
"Back at no later than eleven," he instructed, raising his finger to emphasize his seriousness.
"I'm eighteen!" she stressed.
He just moved his finger closer to her face, an eyebrow raised – once again, she was reminded of where she got that from. "No later than eleven," he insisted. And he spun on his heels, ignoring his youngest's noise of irritation.
"Look at the bright side." She turned to her girlfriend who still looked slightly stricken from the scary experience ten seconds ago. "At least he's letting you go with me."
"He didn't threaten your life or anything, did he?"
Rachel laughed at that, her nervousness dissipated by half. "Honey, your father might be intimidating and scary but he's no murderer," she said, tugging Quinn to her by her hands at the same time. "Don't worry. I'll get used to it."
Quinn huffed. She reached up to brush aside a strand of Rachel's loose hair. "He'll soften to you," she retorted.
"Either way," Rachel replied, "you're not gonna be rid of me anytime soon." Quinn grinned at that, biting her lip at the same time. "Anyway, we should get going. Or Skye's gonna give us a lot of crap for being late."
"She's already giving us crap," Quinn grumbled, but grabbed her jacket and boots from the walk-in closet anyway. She steadied herself by holding onto Rachel's shoulder to slip her feet into her boots.
"Which is why I could do a day without her giving us crap."
Quinn scoffed, a sardonic smile on her face. She shook her head as she pulled on her jacket, tugging her hair from the confines of her jacket and took Rachel's hand. "Don't rely on it," she snarked.
Rachel could only smile bemusedly and tug Quinn down the steps from the patio. Quinn smiled in appreciation when Rachel opened the door to the passenger seat of her car and hopped in, buckling the seatbelt.
For an English teacher of in a high school, Skye's place was pretty suave. Quinn figured that Jemma probably contributed a huge part of it. She really couldn't keep her eyes off the crystalline figurine of a horse half leaping into the air, as if it was reaching for something, only to be suspended by plastic and its creator.
"Yeah, I love that one too," Rachel's voice traveled close to her ear.
Only then did she realize that Rachel had come up close behind her, her mouth incredibly close to Quinn's ear. She suppressed a shiver and sighed. Rachel chuckled.
"Jemma and Skye have been to many places," Rachel continued. She moved to Quinn's side, one arm loosely laced around Quinn's hips and one hand extended to carefully stroke the figurine, like it was the most fragile thing ever. "I admire them sometimes."
Quinn stared at her girlfriend's side profile. Rachel looked wistful, marginally saddened. Quinn's thoughts went back to Rachel's story: her glory in NYADA, only to be brought back to small town life by a clingy boyfriend who was stupid enough to shoot his own knee, and her descent from a Broadway star to a mere piano tutor. She wondered briefly if this time, she was the one keeping Rachel from flying out of her long since unlocked cage.
"You can be everywhere too, Rachel."
Rachel seeked out Quinn's gaze with her for-once unreadable one. Quinn desired to know everything that was going on in that pretty head of hers. "I am everywhere," Rachel finally responded with.
Quinn frowned, perplexed at that clearly incorrect response.
Rachel grinned gently and tipped Quinn's chin up with her fingers. "Knowing you, it's got me everywhere," Rachel whispered.
Jesus Christ, this woman was mind-boggling. Quinn was just standing there, staring at Rachel with saucer-sized eyes, not doing anything. She wasn't able to do anything. Rachel's words had driven her numb. She couldn't even blink. She wasn't even sure if she was breathing. She tried to come up with words but her dictionary had suddenly vanished.
"Quinn?" the brunette prompted.
Quinn licked her lips and then released a helpless laugh. She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "God, you're a nutter," she murmured.
"I'm a what?" Rachel said with incredulity.
"A nutter," Quinn repeated, nodding in affirmation. "You're crazy. It's like you're trying to get me to say yes when you haven't even proposed. And I am so close to begging you to propose to me already!"
Rachel's brown eyes twinkled with delight and mischief. Her eyebrows rose to her hairline. "You are?"
"It's not fair!"
"What's not fair?" Jemma's British accent sounded from the doorway to the living room. She was standing there, leaning against the wall with a curious expression on her face.
Quinn pouted and pointed at Rachel who was still grinning. "Your best friend is evil," she decided.
Surprisingly – or probably not – Jemma only met her eyes with a serious look and nodded her head with much gravity. "Yes, I do know that, Quinn. It's a pity you've already fallen into her trap before you realize that." Jemma proceeded to shake her head, clicking her tongue with a pitiful expression. "But well, there are rare times when Rachel is tolerable."
Quinn feigned a contemplating look and then shook her head after only five seconds of 'thinking'. "I haven't gotten to see that side of her yet."
"She is standing right here," Rachel cut in, annoyed. "Really? My best friend and my girlfriend are teaming up against me?"
"Oh please." Quinn patted her cheek, moving away from her girlfriend to Jemma. "You must have seen it coming."
This was a weird seating arrangement. Imagine this, her girlfriend was seated with the woman she once had a crush on at the left side of the table while she was seated next to the girlfriend of the woman she had a crush on. Even she herself found it ridiculous as she said it in her head.
Skye wasn't helping things either. When she had announced dinner was ready, they trotted into the kitchen with Rachel pouting at the tail end. After asking why and knowing why, she promptly burst into hysterics, telling Rachel the same thing Quinn had said. And then somehow, they had settled down into their current seating arrangement.
"So Rachel," Skye started – Rachel fought a groan while Quinn had to stifle a smirk – "What are you gonna do next month?"
"What do you mean?"
"Quinn's going off to Yale next month, isn't she?" Skye looked at Quinn in inquiry. Quinn nodded, curious as to what Rachel's answer would be. Skye inclined her head, turning back to Rachel. "Jemma and I are going to be moving to New York in November, you know that. It's not like you have anything keeping you here."
Rachel didn't say anything for quite some time, which – honestly – scared Quinn. Yes, they did mention it, but they'd never talked about it. If Quinn was being truthful, she guessed she'd been actively avoiding the topic for quite some time.
"I'm not going to move to New Haven," Rachel answered surely. Quinn knew that. "I mean, it's not where I want to be, even though I do want to be wherever Quinn is, but New Haven is just…it won't do for me."
"Okay, then where?" Skye prompted.
Quinn looked down at her salmon, suddenly finding it very interesting.
"I talked to my dads about it. They're going to travel around the world so yeah, you're right. There isn't anything for me here." Quinn didn't know if Rachel was stalling on purpose but she almost exploded with impatience. "I called Kurt."
Who the hell was Kurt?"
"He found a loft for me in New York."
She looked up from the suddenly not-so-interesting salmon to Rachel who was smiling at her knowingly. Quinn blushed and looked away.
Rachel shrugged. "I mean, New York is only 81 miles away from New Haven, right?"
She could literally feel all of their gazes burning into the side of her face. She failed in stifling a smile and she nodded. "Yes, it is."
Skye chuckled and shook her head amusedly. "I'm surprised you're still in contact with Kurt," she said.
"Kurt is the only guy in NYADA who completely understood my fascination with Wicked. There is no way I'll lose contact with a precious jewel like him."
"He keeps pestering me to tell him who you're dating. You better tell him before I explode," Jemma complained.
"Who's Kurt?" Quinn asked.
Skye chortled, almost choking on her salmon. Jemma rolled her eyes, lamely patting her girlfriend's back while explaining, "Rachel's platonic soul mate. There's no need for you to be jealous, although there are times when you'll get very annoyed at them collectively."
"That's not at all disconcerting."
"Wasn't meant to be concerting."
Rachel scoffed. They kept up with small talk about whatnots for the rest of dinner. And then when it was time to wash the dishes, Jemma shot Skye a look and Skye instantly drag Rachel to do the dishes with her, leaving Quinn alone with the British woman. And Quinn knew that now was the time where she would be getting the talk.
"How do you know her?" Quinn asked Jemma.
Jemma stared at her for a brief second before a reminiscing smile emerged on her face. She had a look like she was enjoying a particular memory. "In the bathroom in a subway station in New York City." Well, that was elaborate. "I was in a stall and when I came out, she was standing in front of the mirror, doing one of the most ridiculous things I have ever seen anyone do."
"What was she doing?"
"Woman was rubbing glue stick on her forehead."
Quinn blinked. "What?"
"Glue stick. You know, the little cylindrical thing where there's glue in a tube in it and you can twist it to –"
"I know what it is!"
Jemma stopped and then nodded in confirmation at the incredulous look on her face. "Yes, Quinn, Rachel Berry was rubbing glue stick on her forehead."
"Jemma, stop spreading that story around!" Rachel shouted from the kitchen.
"Oh shut it and do the dishes!" Jemma shouted back and then looked back to Quinn. "I stared at her for quite some time, having no idea if I've encountered a lunatic in a subway bathroom – of all places. And then she looked at it through the reflection in the mirror and she had a pained expression on her face and I just had to ask her if she's alright. Turns out, she had a headache and she thought the glue stick was a HeadOn."
"You're kidding."
"Cross my heart and hope to die, Quinn," Jemma said with a very serious expression.
"Oh my god."
"And then I gave her a real HeadOn after assisting her in getting rid of the glue on her forehead, which, by the way, is very tasking. I don't recommend applying glue stick on forehead."
"I'm not going to do that."
"Good. So we just exchanged numbers after she promised me a drink and then it just went from there. It wasn't necessarily a date because we certainly weren't attracted to each other. And she had a dumb boyfriend back then so I know enough to not break up an admittedly horrible relationship."
After her recount of the story, Quinn was just staring at the empty kitchen doorway, slack-jawed.
"Rachel Berry is my best friend in the whole wide world." She turned back to Jemma. The woman was staring at her somberly. "And I know you love her very much. She loves you tremendously too."
"I can't promise I won't hurt her," Quinn admitted before Jemma could say it. Once she said it, Jemma looked positively displeased. "That's what relationships are all about. It's not a relationship if hurting is not an eventuality." Quinn then sighed. "But I will promise to try to not hurt her as much as she did in her previous marriage. I won't be as stubborn as forcing her to come back to Lima or poke holes in condoms even though we can't reproduce that way."
Jemma chuckled and nodded. "That's good enough for me. I've seen her hurt enough in her marriage with that doofus. I just want her to be happy. And she obviously is with you so I hope you won't disappoint us."
"I promise I won't."
It was nine o'clock when they finally left Skye's place. Quinn opted for the cliff because she didn't want to be apart from Rachel just yet. Rachel had agreed without much hesitation, setting a path for the cliff. When they reached the trail that led to the cliff, they trotted towards it, hand in hand as Rachel held a flashlight in her free hand.
They sat down at the cliff, their legs hanging off the edge, embraced in each other's arms.
"You're not moving to New York just because of me, right?" Quinn asked.
Rachel smiled. "You are, of course, one of the reasons I'm moving to New York." Quinn waited. "I miss Broadway a lot. I miss performing on stage. I miss singing my lungs out."
"You're gonna audition?"
"We'll see. Otherwise, I'll probably go from a piano coach to being a singing coach. Who knows?"
Quinn chuckled. "As long as you're not jobless."
"Oh I see how it is."
Quinn laughed and lifted her head, kissing Rachel on the lips tenderly. She pulled away to rest their forehead together. "I'm really glad I met you."
Rachel pecked her on the lips again. "I'm glad I met you too. So glad."
Quinn stared into Rachel's deep brown eyes, so enigmatic and yet so clear. The love blooming in her heart was explosive and implosive. This woman had done so much than bring her out of her self-erected shell; she had shown Quinn the true power of love.
Sure, love wasn't everything. But damn, it sure was something.
Whenever she was with Rachel, she just felt like she could take over the world. She felt ageless. She felt like she could really be happy for the rest of her life.
"I love you, Rachel Berry," she whispered.
Rachel brushed her hair back and nodded. "I love you too."
And Quinn swore she could feel her grandmother's warm, parting caress on her skin, as if she was saying goodbye at last.
"Lucy Quinn Fabray, always remember that I will always be here. Even when I'm gone, I'll be here. I'll be here to be your guidance even though you won't know it. I'll be here to watch you grow and find your way. And when I'm sure you've found your way, then I'll leave, because you won't need me anymore. But I'll still be here."
and that is the end. i'll see you when i see you. for now though, ciao!