Basseterre, 1779
Quinn hated wearing black, and the mere thought of having to do so for a long time after her father's death made her groan. Whoever created the rules about mourning had certainly not lived in the Caribbean during the summer. Or maybe thinking about her hate for black was just her way of distracting her mind from everything else that happened around her.
Quinn's heels clacked as she walked down the cemetery towards where her father would be buried. Her spine shivered as she looked around and saw the so many graves around her. It was disturbing to realize she was surrounded by more dead people than alive ones. It was even more disturbing to think every single one of them had a story and family of their own, but that none of that mattered then. The one thing that disturbed her the most was to see how empty Russell's service was. Her father had always had many friends. Quinn couldn't understand why so few of them had come to the funeral.
Her mind felt blurry. She knew she should be upset about her father's death - well, probably more than upset, taken how close they were. But she didn't. She didn't feel a thing, not even as she watched everyone setting roses on top of his coffin before it was laid on to the ground. Her mother threw herself on the top of the coffin and stood there, wailing and yelling for the whole service. Her brother was by their mother's side, trying to hide his tears behind his hat and gripping tightly on to Arabella's hand.
And Quinn was there. Alone. So detached that she didn't even look like a member of the family.
Rachel had offered to come, but Quinn honestly didn't find a reason for it. Rachel shouldn't be standing up for long periods of time, especially in black clothes under the hot sun. It could be bad for the baby. Besides, Quinn was okay. She didn't need anyone to hang on to. She didn't. But now she wished she had that someone, anyway.
She didn't cry because it didn't feel real. She watched as the coffin was lowered, and twisted her face when her mother screamed louder and louder, but something inside her told her that this wasn't happening. That after it was all done, they would come back home and her father would be sitting in the drawing room drinking his coffee, reading the newspaper and greeting her with the tightest hug ever. Like it had always been. Like it should always be.
Quinn heard a suppressed sob and turned back to find a slave hiding his face behind his hand. Quinn shuddered. Among the many slaves in the back, most of them looked sadder than she did. It wasn't right. It was even more wrong that the only thing she felt was jealousy, for she knew she would never be liked by the slaves like her father was. But then she found Lou Lee's eyes and the woman gave her a small smile. She was the first person to acknowledge Quinn ever since she walked into that cemetery. Everyone else was just too busy consoling her mother and brother, but Quinn? She didn't need it, Quinn was always fine. She smiled back.
"For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," quoted the priest, and all Quinn could do was sigh in relief.
It was over. She could go back home. There were so many things she still had to do, to take care of. But this part was over.
Rose Hill, 1779
"Quinn?" Rachel asked, rubbing her eyes as she walked inside the dark office where a shy candlelight burned atop of the huge wooden desk. Quinn scribbled something down, and didn't even seem to noticed Rachel's entrance. "What are you doing here? It's late, you should be sleeping," Rachel argued.
"I'm alright. You should be sleeping," she murmured back, without lifting her eyes from the piles of papers. Rachel took one step closer to try to see what Quinn was working on, but she placed a file over the paper she was writing, before Rachel could see what it was about. Rachel's reading lessons had stopped long ago, but she still could make out a few words. "Go bed, you need to rest," Quinn said, finally looking in Rachel's eyes.
Rachel's heart broke. She could see all the pain, stress and anxiety in Quinn's eyes, and it hurt her to see that Quinn kept it all to herself. She knew for a fact that Quinn had a hard time dealing with and expressing her feelings, but she had assumed they were close enough now for Quinn to know that she could trust Rachel and open up to her. Rachel wasn't wise enough to advise her or offer inspiring words, but at least she knew she could be a good shoulder to cry on.
"Do you wanna talk?" Rachel asked in a whisper, pulling the chair across the desk and sitting in front of Quinn. Quinn adverted her eyes and went back to the papers, furrowing her eyebrows and letting out a small scoff.
"What about?" she asked, but Rachel knew her question had been understood. She reached out and grabbed Quinn's hand, to stop her from fumbling with all the papers and to catch her attention again. "I'm really fine, Rach. I just have a lot of stuff I need to take care of, and I can't sleep until I know it's all done. But everything else is perfectly fine!"
"Quinn, you don't have to do all of that now. Your father just passed away. It's alright if you take a little time for yourself," Rachel said sweetly, bringing Quinn's hand to her mouth and dropping a kiss there. Quinn smiled for a half a second and sighed. Rachel thought she had done it, but in a blink she saw Quinn's eyes darkening again, and Quinn shook her head.
"No," she murmured, pulling her hand back. Rachel's hand stung with the harshness, but she didn't say anything. Her feelings weren't a priority in that moment. She was there to help Quinn. "There's no use in being sad. It won't bring him back or anything."
Rachel never thought she and Quinn were alike in the least, but in that moment she realized how really different they were. It had been many years since Rachel's mother had died, and still, there wasn't one day Rachel didn't think of her with longing and sadness. It took a great amount of effort for her to be able to dissociate those feelings from Quinn, but even when she did forgive Quinn, it didn't help her miss her mother less. Quinn, on the other hand, wouldn't allow herself to feel bad not even for a day.
It also told a lot about the way Quinn had been raised. Rachel never had freedom, but once she was dismissed from her daily chores, that was it. She had alone time to think and form her own thoughts. Quinn never had it. From the second she was born she had the weight of her parent's expectations in her shoulders, and a mother that judged and molded everything she did, to a point where not even her thoughts were her own anymore. Her mother told her to be still and sit pretty - regardless of how she felt - and that's what she always did - even in a drastic moment where even her mother lost her composure.
"Quinn, you can talk to me. There's no one else awake, it's only you and me. You don't need to handle everything alone," Rachel said, getting up and walking around the table to stand at Quinn's side. Rachel didn't touch her, cause she wasn't sure the proximity would be received well. Quinn was stiff. "I'm here for you," she murmured. Quinn shook her head quickly and closed her lips tightly in a thin line. Rachel could see tears pooling in Quinn's eyes, but she was just too proud to let them go.
"Everything is a mess," she answered in a sigh, crumbling a piece of paper and shoving it in the trash. "This farm is going much worse than my father ever let us know, and I have no idea what to do. I'm not ready for this. I don't know how to fix this. I didn't think he would die so soon, and there's still so much I need to learn and now I have no one to even ask to and the future of this whole farm - his only legacy!- it's all on my hands and I didn't even start yet, but I already know that I'm messing things up and-" she stopped herself when a hiccup escaped her throat and she couldn't hold up the sobs anymore.
Rachel knew she had pushed it. It was exactly what she wanted, that Quinn would tell her what was going on. Then why did she feel so terrible? She hated that Quinn felt that way, and she hated that there was nothing she could do to help her. It terrified her to know that the farm wasn't going well, but at the same time, she felt like she could trust Quinn to fix things. There was no way she could pass that comfort on to Quinn, so she did the only thing her mind could think of at that moment and in leap, wrapped her arms tightly around Quinn. She felt Quinn stiffening further, and waited for the moment she would finally melt into the embrace - but it never happened.
"I'm sorry," Quinn cried out, shuffling her way out of Rachel's arms and running out of the door before Rachel could even protest.
"George? George!" Quinn banged on his door, yelling as tears ran down her face. He had stayed the night in case their mother needed any help. Quinn had tried to convince him that it wasn't necessary but for once she was glad he hadn't heard her. She needed him more than ever.
"Quinn? What happened?" George asked opening the door in startle. She flung herself into his arms and felt the sobs ripping her chest once again, taking away all the force she required to answer his question. But even then, he hugged her tightly as if he understood exactly what she meant.
"Daddy died," she whispered between hiccups, and felt him hugging her even tighter. Suddenly, all the pain and sadness she hadn't felt ever since she heard her father's voice for the last time hit all at once and she wasn't sure she was able to handle it all. She knew Rachel had only meant to help, but she didn't feel like Rachel would understand. For Rachel, Russell was and would always be only the mean master that whipped her back raw and threatened to rape her. Of course, Quinn hadn't forgot about that. The fact that her father had died didn't excuse his prior mistakes, but still. He was her father, and for many, many years, the only source of comfort she had in that house - although definitely not as present as he should have been.
"I know, dear," George whispered, running his hands through her hair. George understood her. She knew what she felt, even if she tried to hold it all back. "Come here," he said, pulling her to the drawing room and carefully closing the door. He didn't want to wake up Arabella. Quinn felt dumb for not thinking of that before knocking on his door so loudly, but decided for once to forgive herself. She wasn't able to think about those small things at that moment, and it was okay.
"George, what will I do without him?" she asked, sitting on the couch and bringing him with her. She clutched to his arm, which ironically only reminded her further of her father and the so many times she had snuggled against him in that very same couch as he helped her with her lessons. He was the only one patient enough to teach her, and he was gone way before she learned everything she needed to. "I don't know what to do," she whispered. "I have no idea how to run this farm!"
"Yes, you do," he said firmly. "Your whole life you were prepared for that, Quinn. You know spots of this farm that I can't even imagine existing, because father only showed them to you. You were the only one welcome to sit and watch his meetings. I know you are scared, but deep down, you know everything you have to do. I trust you, and I don't say that to increase the pressure on you. I say it because I believe that even if you do mess up, you'll still manage to bring something good out of it."
"How can you say that? You can't know for sure, George. None of us can! Do you realize how much of a big responsibility this is? I'm still only 16," she weeped and he giggled. She almost got angry at him, but couldn't do so. His words comforted her, even if she didn't believe them fully.
"I know that everything will be fine because you love this farm," he said with a shrug. "You had every opportunity to get out of here, but you never wanted to. And that's all that matters, honestly. That's how father built this whole farm. He had a dream and he put every ounce of love he had to make it come true, and now you're gonna follow his steps and the farm will thrive even further."
"But George, things aren't like I thought they were. I was going over the finances, and turns out we have a lot of debts that father never told me about. The crop was not as rentable this year, possibly because of all the rain - which is even worst because I can't control that - and how will I fix things till next year?"
"Okay, I have no idea of what you're talking about, which honestly only proofs further how ready you are for this job," he said with a chuckle. Quinn wanted to chuckle too. She wanted to make things work. She wanted to make her father proud. "But if it makes you any calmer, I have an idea. I have a friend that lives in Basseterre and that studied Business back in England with me. I will reach out for him and ask him to come and help you, at least on the first months. He owns me a big favor, so I'm sure we won't have to pay for that, before you ask."
"That would be fantastic," Quinn said with the deepest sigh of relief. That was all she needed: to know that she wasn't alone. There was still people she could run to if she had any doubts, and there were people who trusted her to make things work. Her father would look down to Earth, and be proud of her. That is if he even looked down, at least. "George?" she asked quietly, just to clear her mind from the one last thing that bothered her so much. "Do you think he's with Frannie now?"
"Are you thinking about what he said before dying?" George asked. She shrugged. Yes. But she would never admit. She would never let anyone know how it had hurt her. Years and years of living together, and she was still nothing more than a replacement to him. To all of them, in all truth. "He was hallucinating, Quinn. You know he loved you, you were his favorite! I was so small when you were born, but I still remember the beaming in his eyes the first time he held you. I swear I had never seen him that happy," he said.
"You're still awake," Quinn stated as she walked back inside her bedroom. Rachel sat against the bed frame and shrugged lightly. She didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Her swollen belly, although not that big yet, had bothered her sleep a lot lately, but as long as Quinn was by her side she could always manage to go through the night. Without Quinn, it felt like everything just bothered her a lot more.
Quinn climbed on to bed and without a word snuggled against Rachel's side, resting her hand on the top of Rachel's belly. A touch that meant the world to Rachel. She could see Quinn had been crying, and she couldn't deny she still felt upset that Quinn had chosen another person to open up to - but in the end, it didn't matter. What mattered is that Quinn seemed much more calmer and that although her face was covered in tear trails, her eyes shined brighter. She still wasn't over everything, but she wasn't bottling up her feelings anymore. She was letting herself feel, even if it didn't feel good.
"Tell me about your mother," Quinn whispered, hiding her face on the crook of Rachel's neck and dropping a kiss there. Rachel frowned and swallowed dryly. This was the moment she would proof to herself if she had really been able to separate Quinn from what happened to her mother - so she tried her best to recall the nice moments she had with her mother without remembering how it all ended.
"She was young," Rachel started with a shaky breath. She had never talked about her mother to anyone. It still hurt. Perhaps it hurt more now that she was about to become a mother herself. "She wasn't ready to be a mother, but she did the best she could. It took me long to realize and understand I was a slave, because she created a whole world of fantasy for me and protected me from everything bad. She wasn't always patient and kind, but I get it. She went through a lot, and I knew she did it all for me. She loved me, and she always said that a love pure and truthful was the best gift you can ever give to anyone."
"I love you," Quinn murmured in a cry, wrapping her arms tighter against Rachel's belly. Rachel's heart fluttered. Quinn kept saying those words over and over, but it never touched her as deeply as when she proofed with her actions - and the simple fact that she didn't only hug Rachel, but Rachel's belly showed her how far Quinn had come.
"I love you too," she murmured back, dropping a kiss on the top of Quinn's head and rubbing her arm. "Tell me about your father," Rachel whispered. They were only 16, and they had no idea how to deal with grief. They were forced to grown up too fast, but they managed to turn out okay. Talking about her mother had make Rachel feel even closer to Quinn, and she wanted to do the same. She wanted Quinn to let out her feelings. She wasn't too fond of Russell, but she knew he was important to Quinn, and she was willing to hear what she needed to say.
"Daddy loved me with pride," Quinn said, taking a deep breath. She went quiet for a moment, and Rachel thought perhaps she still wasn't ready to talk - but after a while she went on. "He spoiled me rotten. If I asked for a gown, I was given two. I asked for a bonnet, and he brought three straight from England. He did everything to make sure I was always beautiful and perfect. He closed his eyes when I did something wrong, to not ruin the image he wanted to keep of me. Sometimes it hurts to think that his love was never unconditional."
Rachel didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. Quinn had perfectly summed up everything Rachel had watched from the very first time she met them. Her father loved a Quinn that wasn't real. Her mother didn't seem to love her at all. Quinn's only sources of love were taken away from her when she was too young. Rachel felt a tear falling on her chest, but Quinn didn't raise her head. Instead, she started kissing Rachel's neck and collarbone. With searching kisses that seemed to tear her apart while Rachel tried to hold her together. Loving Rachel hurt her, but she never seemed to have enough of it.
"Kiss me," Quinn said, finally looking up. It broke Rachel to see how bloodshot Quinn's eyes were - but still, Quinn wouldn't let Rachel see her cry. "Please?" she asked. Rachel knew it wasn't right. Quinn just wanted to forget everything, and Rachel had always been her escape. As if the pain Rachel provided her as they laid together could make her forget all the pain she felt inside.
Rachel loved to inflict pain, at first. It felt liberating and empowering. It tasted like revenge. With time, her pleasure started coming not from the fact that Quinn was in pain, but from the pleasure Quinn got from that pain. It was only after their kisses started tasting like love, that she realized sometimes Quinn used her. Quinn wanted to punish herself - Rachel didn't know why - but whenever she felt guilty, she would turn on to Rachel looking for redemption.
Rachel knew it was wrong. She knew instead of just hurting Quinn, she should help her deal with her feelings - but she had no idea how, so she usually just obliged. But in that day she couldn't. Not when Quinn's eyes begged her for help as her mouth tried to bite skin off of Rachel's neck. Instead, she made sweet love to Quinn. She laid Quinn in bed and kissed and caressed every inch of her skin - much like Quinn had done to her the night after she had been whipped by Russell.
If whipping and spanking and biting Quinn had before felt liberating, nothing ever tasted so much like freedom as the privilege of being able to love Quinn like that, with all her heart, and to show Quinn what love really felt like. Unconditionally. She knew Quinn was far from perfect, but that didn't make her heart beat slower as she felt Quinn shivering under her hands. She whispered sweet words in Quinn's ear instead of the filthy ones she usually said, and they made Quinn shake even harder.
Quinn winced and moaned painfully, as if every ounce of love Rachel poured into her hurt more than the strongest slap Rachel could give her - but Rachel kept going, and loving and loving and loving her more as her fingers moved faster, until Quinn collapsed into the bed, like she had many times before. Breathless, melting into the mattress with half lid eyes. But something was different this time.
When she came to her senses, instead of turning to her side and falling asleep, she started sobbing. Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn before she could run again, and Quinn finally let go. Her body shook against Rachel, and Rachel kissed her everywhere she could reach as she let her cry. She cried for what it felt like days, and Rachel felt her heart tightening with each and every weep. But when Quinn fell asleep in her arms, letting out the deepest sigh, Rachel knew she would be fine. If anything, Quinn was strong. She would wake up the next day with a cleansed soul and all the strength she needed to bring that farm back up to what it once was.
And Rachel would gladly be there by her side.