Title:Ensnared by Despair (Let Love Set You Free)

Pairing:Quinn Fabray/Rachel Berry

Rating:PG-13

Disclaimer:I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

Summary:AU. Quinn broke up with Rachel during Nationals their junior year and Rachel hadn't the slightest clue why. When Quinn falls off the radar all summer and returns to school with a new look and attitude, Rachel has a feeling things are going to get a lot worse before they get better.

A/N:Hope everyone has a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Monday came so much quicker than Rachel had wanted it to. Monday meant not spending the day in bed with Quinn. Monday meant being thrown back into glee club and rapidly approaching Regionals. Monday meant having to deal with Shelby.

She stood nervously outside Shelby Corcoran's classroom. She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt as she stared at the closed door looking back at her. She had been so good about sticking with her convictions and no longer having contact with Shelby, but now she couldn't. Now Shelby had something that she needed and as Rachel stood outside her classroom, she knew Shelby knew that as well. She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders back like she had seen Quinn do so many times in the past to show confidence and knocked on the door.

The faint clacking of heels could be heard before Rachel saw a shadow in the space where the door and floor didn't quite meet. "I can do this," she whispered to herself when the door opened.

Shelby stood proudly on the other side of the door, opening it and motioning for Rachel to come inside. "Hi, Rachel. It's good to see you again."

"Hi, Shelby," Rachel greeted politely. She walked inside, taking a seat in the chair in front of Shelby's desk.

Shelby walked over, sliding into the seat opposite Rachel. "I trust you've been doing well."

Rachel shifted in the chair. "I have."

Shelby eyed her critically for a long moment. "You look happy," she commented. "Under all the nervousness."

Her fidgeting stopped almost immediately. "I am," she agreed. She watched Shelby sigh heavily and stack some papers on her desk before meeting her eyes again.

"Quinn—does she-does she make you happy?"

"I don't think that's something you and I should discuss. But to put it simply: yes."

Shelby nodded curtly. She grabbed a nearby pen, grasping it tightly in her hand and leaning back in her seat. "What can I help you with?"

She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, Quinn informed me that you were offering to write me a recommendation for NYADA if I asked and that your recommendation would hold more weight than Mr. Schuester's."

"And Emma's," Shelby said. "I just said Schuester because he's tried to do something in the past that I've already done."

She hated being reminded of all the possible ways her mother was seemingly successful and well-versed enough in Broadway and all the ways Shelby could have helped her achieve her dreams. Rachel sighed quietly at all the things they could have been. "I would like to take you up on said offer. I—" she took a deep breath, hating this very moment, "I would like for you to write me a recommendation."

Shelby blinked once, twice, her expression morphing into some semblance to almost sheepish before she said, "I can send it now if you want."

Rachel leaned forward. "You already have it typed up?"

Her gaze slid from Rachel to her computer screen. "Just in case you said you wanted it, I already wanted to have it typed up so I could send it before the deadline."

"I appreciate this, Shelby," Rachel said sincerely, still a little stunned this was all happening. "Thank you."

"Guess it's about time I do something right, huh?" she said with a small smile.

Rachel didn't respond. She wasn't really sure what an appropriate response would be.

"I never meant to…do any of this," Shelby said suddenly, gesturing with her hands. "I thought that coming back—I don't really know what I thought, but I didn't think this all would happen."

Her expression was heavy with regret, looking like she was apologizing for much more than what was right in front of them. Rachel placed her hands in her lap, watching them ball up and hold each other. "Parents aren't perfect. I've learned that."

"I'm certainly not," Shelby muttered. "Rachel, I know I can't very well sit here and ask you to forgive me, but—"

"No, you can't," Rachel whispered, voice losing bravado the longer she stared down at her hands. But she couldn't look at Shelby because she knew she'd feel upset and want to lash out even though that wasn't her nature. What would probably happen more than anything else if she looked up was her possibly forgiving Shelby and that was one thing she didn't want to do.

Shelby chuckled quietly. "I see Quinn has been coaching you."

"Regardless," Rachel continued in a small voice, "I don't owe you anything for this but a heartfelt thank you. And if you feel that I owe you more, then perhaps you should hold on to that recommendation." She could feel the tears coming and warred with herself to keep them hidden until she was at least out of the office. Mondays were so fucking hard.

Shelby was silent for a moment. She leaned forward in her seat and began typing on her computer. "No, you keep the recommendation. I—you don't have to forgive me. I was just thinking we could be cordial with each other. Have a few conversations here and there—"

"I don't think that's wise." Her heart broke as the words came out of her mouth because no matter how hard she tried to distinguish and think of Shelby as a teacher, Shelby was and would always be her mother and the thought of having to tell her own mother that she wanted nothing to do with her was gut-wrenching.

Shelby stopped typing. "Why not?"

Rachel balled her lips up nervously, finally looking up to Shelby. "Because then I'll get my hopes up. Like I always do. The only way I can not hurt with you around is if I don't have contact with you. I'm sorry, but I can't keep doing this to myself and you shouldn't want to keep doing this to me either."

"I—no, I don't," Shelby was quick to reassure. "Rachel, I—damn…" she sighed. "All I wanted was to have some kind of functioning mother/daughter relationship with you like I gave Quinn the chance to have with Beth."

"While I appreciate what you were trying to do," Rachel whispered as a tear slid down her cheek, "it didn't quite pan out that way. Quinn has an exceptional, amazing relationship with Beth and I appreciate you for giving her that chance. It means more to her than you'll ever know. But you and I—we can't be that. I've tried, and though I can't be sure, you've probably tried as best as you can as well. But we can't have that and frankly, Shelby, I'm tired of trying to have that." She pulled down the sleeve of the sweater she had borrowed from Quinn and dabbed at her eye. She caught a scent that was distinctly Quinn and curled her hands into fist, resting them just under her nose to drag strength from the friendly reminder of her girlfriend.

Shelby cleared her throat, exhaling a whistle. "If that's what you want, Rachel," she said quietly, then much louder and more confident, "I'll send your recommendation to NYADA tonight. Good luck."

She didn't say anything else and that felt like as much of a dismissal as anything. Rachel stood up and walked out of the room, feeling like, she reasoned, a used punching bag must feel: bruised and tired. When she made it to the bathroom, she didn't even fight the tears, grabbing her phone from her bag and fumbling through blurry eyes to dial Quinn's number.

"Hey, Rachel," she heard Quinn say as quietly as she possibly could. She must have been in class.

"Hi, baby," she hiccupped. "Could you come hold me?"

Quinn sighed in what was most probably sympathy before whispering, "Which bathroom, baby?"

Rachel leaned back against the wall, already beginning to feel better. "First."

"I'll be there soon."

True to her word, it took Quinn less than two minutes to make it to the bathroom. She slid one arm around Rachel's shoulders and one around her waist in one of those cocooning hugs that Rachel always burrowed into until she felt better. She cursed herself for being so sensitive when she felt tears roll down her face as if she had just received the worst news ever.

Quinn pressed a kiss to the side of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. "Did she write the recommendation?" she murmured.

Rachel nodded, curling her fingers into the front of Quinn's dress.

"Then what's the problem?" She kneaded circles into Rachel's lower back, using her other hand to massage her scalp.

She sniffled. "The problem is that I'm a fucking drama queen who cries over everything." Her voice was nasally in such a way that made Quinn's shoulders shake quietly with laughter. "Don't laugh, Quinn."

"First of all? I think it's so sexy when you curse." She leaned down to kiss a smooth, tan throat and Rachel moaned and squirmed out of her arms in halfhearted protest all at once. "Second of all, stop being so hard on yourself for crying. You had some expectations of what Shelby was going to be like and those expectations aren't reality. It's only logical that that's going to sting a little."

Rachel looked up at her. "Can you hold me the way you were before, please?"

"Were you even listening?" Quinn grumbled as she wrapped her arms around Rachel again.

"Of course I was listening," she sniffled. "And…I guess you're right. But then again, I probably shouldn't have had those expectations." Rachel tucked herself under Quinn's chin, eyes slipping shut as blunt nails raked softly across her scalp.

"Maybe," Quinn said. "But then again, you can't help but have expectations of your parents. You just have to accept that Shelby will never be who you want her to be."

"This sucks," Rachel sighed.

"Mhm," Quinn hummed back.

She tilted her head back to skim her lips across Quinn's throat. "Thank you."

Quinn rocked them back and forth gently for a few more minutes. "I love you," she said softly. Then blushed, muttering. "I Quinn Fabray love you."

Rachel grinned widely.

"And so do your fathers."

"I guess I should focus on that, then?"

"Take it from someone that's pretty good at focusing on what she doesn't have instead of focusing on what she does: it sucks. So, don't do it."

Rachel nodded against her collarbone, turning her face to burrow into Quinn's chest. "You smell so damn good," she whispered.

Quinn groaned quietly above her, tapping her foot against the floor in impatience that had Rachel chuckling softly. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Don't 'what' me," Quinn grumbled. "You know what."

"Who would have known you'd have this kink?" She turned her head to nuzzle Quinn's left breast, pressing her lips deeply into the yielding flesh.

Quinn ran her fingers through dark hair, murmuring, "Someone's feeling better."

"Mmm," Rachel moaned back, biting the side of Quinn's breast until the hand in her hair tightened its grip.

"Do you want to have sex in this bathroom?" Quinn asked roughly

Rachel made a face. "Not really…?"

She almost smiled at the notion of having sex in the bathroom actually being an option. "Then stop teasing me."

Reluctantly, Rachel pulled back. Her dark eyes met hazel and Quinn gently swiped her thumb under her eye, more of habit than actually wiping tears away. "Feel better?"

She nodded and leaned up to kiss Quinn in thanks. Quinn rubbed her back a few more times before stepping away. "I have to get back to bio."

"I'll walk you." She rolled up her sleeve to grab Quinn's hand and walked out of the bathroom.

As soon as they stepped foot inside the hallway, Rachel felt more than saw Quinn roll her shoulders back in a show of confidence. She seemed to grow in feet just from her attitude alone. Rachel looked up at her, her grip tightening on her when Quinn didn't immediately look back at her.

But Quinn was focused. Focused on making sure there weren't any slushies coming their way, on hyper alert, making sure there were no teams full of burly boys anywhere nearby.

It was times like this that Rachel couldn't help but wonder how different their relationship could have been if one of them had been a boy. They were just so perfect for one another and would have been able to function better without Quinn having to worry about the social implications—she had gotten so much better with dealing with it, but there were times like now when Rachel could tell that Quinn was uncomfortable. But to her credit, though her fingers twitched in Rachel's grip, they still held onto hers. They didn't often times hold hands in crowded hallways and Quinn was still acquainting herself with this change.

"It's okay," Rachel whispered.

"How can you be so sure?" Quinn asked as her gaze darted all around them.

Rachel took a deep breath. "Because if I were to get slushied right now, I know you'd help clean me up." She squeezed Quinn's hand with a smile, both of them recalling how Quinn had slipped into the bathroom stall Rachel had been in months ago like a knight in shining armor with a clean change of clothes. "And if you were to get slushied—which, I'm almost positive you wouldn't, because I'm sure I can quite easily persuade those puckheads to slushie me instead—but if you did, I would certainly clean you up."

Quinn's jaw clenched in frustration because this was not how this should have been for them. They already had enough to deal with. She stopped in the hallway, eyes clenched shut briefly before they opened and zeroed in on Rachel. "If either of us were a boy—"

"I know, baby," Rachel soothed. A smile dimpled her cheeks in the way Quinn loved as she quietly said, "But I really, really like the fact that you're a girl."

Quinn's lips quivered in an attempt to fight back a smile. "I like that you're a girl, too," she muttered.

"What's shakin', Quinn—and, Quinn's girl!" she heard a voice call behind her and swiveled around to find the hockey team leering knowingly at her as they walked down the hallway.

Quinn turned morosely back to Rachel. "It could have been worse," Rachel said immediately. "At least they didn't spout off things that you see on teen angst dramas like 'I got something that could straighten you out', o-or—"

Quinn barked out an incredulous, humorless laugh despite herself because, what the hell kind of shows did Rachel watch?

"Kurt and I have been trying to get some new school policies implemented against gay bullying. And, you know, any sexuality that falls along the spectrum. W-we don't want to discriminate, so bisexuals, pansexuals, I mean, even asexuals are under our umbrella of protection and—"

"Stop talking," Quinn said with a soft smile.

Rachel frowned up at her in obvious disapproval.

Quinn licked her lips, her smile growing even wider. "I love you."

Well. How could anyone stay mad at that?

She walked in the choir room and was immediately greeted with the sight of Rachel and Finn huddled together over a piece of paper on the front row. And there was definitely a time in the past, probably around the time she and Rachel had first began dating last year, when Quinn would have caused a scene and ended up embarrassing everyone involved. A few threats would have been spewed, a few tears would have been shed.

But that was then, this was now. And now she had taken Rachel's virginity, now she more or less trusted Rachel because Rachel had proven time and time again not only how trustworthy she was, but also how much she trusted Quinn. And Quinn reasoned anyone that trusted her of all people was either really crazy or truly had faith in her. And if Rachel could have faith in her to not screw them up then Quinn could at least match some of that.

So, instead of causing a scene that would end in embarrassment and tears, she simply rolled her eyes—because she couldn't not do something—and purposefully brushed past Rachel to walk to the second row. And just as predicted, Rachel's gaze shot up and after her, tossing a shy smile back to the second row. "Hi, Quinn."

Quinn offered a small smile as well. "Hey."

Rachel turned back around to Finn. "So, that's it. These are the songs we're performing and I suppose we should all work on polishing off our dance routines for all of them before Regionals."

Finn squinted down at the list, looking like he wanted to say something before shifting in his seat and meeting Rachel's eyes. "I heard about you and Quinn," he said quietly as Mr. Schuester began addressing the class.

Rachel blushed furiously and ducked her head, nodding as she bit her lip.

"I thought you were gonna wait."

"So did I," she said honestly. "But I—I've always said girls want sex just as much as guys—"

"So, what, she just made you horny one day and you just went for it?" he asked tersely.

Her features pinched in disgust. "Finn Hudson, I will not have this conversation with you if you insist on being so crude. Not that I owe you an explanation, but Quinn and I love each other very much and wanted to express that love. We had every right."

"Yeah, okay, well, at least you can't get her pregnant. And she can't lie about someone else being the dad or whatever…" he wasn't sure where that train of thought was going and settled for ending it there.

"That was incredibly insensitive," Rachel hissed lowly, careful to keep everyone out of their business. "Quinn has been trying to improve herself as of late and she has been doing a phenomenal job; she doesn't need people like you to keep bringing up her past shortcomings…"

"Hey, Q, can I talk to you about something?"

Quinn squinted in annoyance, peeling her eyes away from Rachel and Finn's conversation to peer back at Puck on the third row. "What?"

Puck shifted to lean forward in his seat. "What if what I was about to tell you would be bad—hot, but bad?"

Her eyebrow rose inquisitively. But instead she told him, "Keep it to yourself. I don't need to hear about your latest sexcapades with those lonely cougars you clean pools for."

"It's not about them," he insisted.

"Even still, keep your sex life to yourself."

She felt a hand grab her own and turned around to see Rachel smiling at her affectionately. Rachel intertwined their fingers and they both turned towards the front of the room to halfway listen to Mr. Schuester.

Quinn puffed out a breath as she closed the door to her car. A sleek black car was parked in her spot on the car porch as if it belonged there. She lifted her bag onto her shoulder and walked towards the door, wondering how her father managed to get a key to let himself in. She opened the unlocked door and walked inside, unsurprised to see him at the kitchen table.

"You're here," she greeted flatly.

Russell leveled her with an even gaze. "You called me here."

Quinn sighed, wondering about the lapse in judgement she had had when she had called Russell to the house. It had been this morning before school. After talking to Rachel about NYADA and NYU last Friday and spending the entire weekend with her, Quinn had spent the entirety of Sunday mulling over her future. She didn't want to rely on Russell for money but there really wasn't any other way. Even if she were to enroll in OSU, she'd still have to rely on her father to pay tuition for her and from there she had surmised there was no way in hell she was going to attend OSU if, regardless, her father was going to pay for her education no matter where she went and, thus, be in her life more than Quinn actually wanted.

She dumped her bag onto a nearby chair, sitting in another. "How'd you get in?"

"Your mother never took back the key."

"So, what, you just willingly never came back for a visit?" she asked tersely.

Russell rubbed at his brow and the side of his face in a way that made Quinn hate that she shared mannerisms with the man in front of her. "I see you've changed."

"I hate that word," she spat.

Russell smiled crookedly. "Well, let's see, you've changed your hair, your clothes—still got that insufferable nose ring, though, I see. What shall I call it—a transformation?"

"Don't call it anything," she gritted out. "Just observe it, take some sick pleasure out of the fact that I'm back into these clothes—that I've once again lost to you—like I always do, and move on."

He stared at her for a moment, before sighing tiredly, "What do you want, Quinn?"

Her lips pressed together tightly at his dismissive tone of voice. "I'm ready to apply for school and I want you to pay for it."

He barked out a laugh that made her skin crawl. "So, you're just going to use me? Only call when you need me?"

"Like all the years you used me to give the illusion to others that this family was perfect?" Quinn sat back in her seat. "This family uses each other. I get that and I'm over the whole 'I don't understand why we're so fucked up; why can't we be like other families?' phase."

Russell's eyes pinched tightly in annoyance. "If I was still living here, you wouldn't have that potty mouth of yours."

She chuckled bitterly. "But you don't live here; mom has an empty side of the bed and a pile of bills to prove it." She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the table. "Are you going to help me or not? Or would you prefer that I go to OSU or even better, not go to college at all?" Her lips curved into an evil, feral grin. "You try your hardest to pretend that mom and I don't exist, but I will always have your last name and when they all look at what a failure I've become they won't be able to help but recall your face."

His jaw worked back and forth in contemplation and frustration as he regarded Quinn, trying to call her bluff. "You'd really not go to college?" he couldn't help but ask.

If possible, her grin became even more twisted. "Try me." She was trying to hold on to the fact that she was doing this for her and Rachel, so that they could possibly be together in New York in the long run. But she couldn't help but take pleasure in the look of discontentment on her father's face.

"Where would you apply?" Russell asked brusquely.

"OSU," Quinn began. "And NYU."

Russell pursed his lips. "NYU is a good school."

"It is," Quinn agreed.

"Why do you want to go all the way to New York?"

Quinn took a deep breath. "Because I want to get out of here." That was as close to the truth as she was going to venture into because saying, I want to go to New York because I want to spend the rest of my life with my lesbian lover—there was no way in hell Russell was going to pay for her education if he knew that.

Russell crossed his arms across his chest. "What will you major in?"

She hesitated for a long moment, suddenly feeling foolish under her father's scrutiny. "Studio art," she finally muttered.

He huffed once, then erupted into belly shaking laughter. Quinn's eyes closed tightly as a quiet exhale of annoyance was breathed through her mouth.

"Art?" Russell asked with incredulity lacing his voice. "You're going to major in art? Well, Q, if you're going to major in something artsy like a thirteen year old girl, then at least put some of that piano playing to work and take up some classes on that. Surely being a—I don't know—piano teacher?" he roared with laughter again. "Maybe being a piano teacher would make you a lot more money than selling your art—do you even realize how many failed artists live in boxes on the side of the road?"

Quinn didn't respond, glaring holes into the table.

"Lots," Russell answered anyway. He wiped a few amused tears from his eyes before clearing his throat. "You're going to major in music. You can major in…studio art," he snickered, "if you want, but you're also majoring in music. You're playing that damn piano, Quinn."

"Whatever."

"And you're applying to Yale as well."

Quinn's gaze snapped up to meet his. "I can't get into that school now."

Russell leveled her with a hard, serious look. "I got that suspension lifted from your record; you're going to put that nearly spotless record to use."

"I can't believe this," she muttered to herself. "Is there anything, anything at all that you're capable of doing for someone else's benefit other than your own? Are you really that selfish?" she yelled.

"Lower your voice," he gritted out. "You loved Yale your freshman year; why are you complaining now?"

"Because I want to go to NYU," she gritted out.

"And maybe you will. Judy's told me about your horrible grades at the beginning of the school year. You've done a complete one-eighty from that, but maybe that isn't enough to get in. And if it's not, then you can go to your precious NYU." He sat back in his seat, looking smug and victorious.

Quinn slumped back against her own seat.

Even when she won against Russell Fabray, she still lost.

She knocked heavily three times on Shelby's door and waited. It had only been less than a week since she had last seen Beth, but she was already aching to see her again. Her visits were beginning to get closer and closer together the closer she and Beth became and Quinn relished every moment of it. She was trying to get as much time in with Beth as she could because if she really was going all the way to the east coast after graduation, then visits would be slim at best.

The door opened and Shelby practically glared holes through her as she stood at the threshold, blocking Quinn's entry.

"What are you doing here?" Shelby asked evenly, arms folding tightly across her chest.

Quinn rocked back on her heels, feeling hostility coming off her in waves and not really understanding why. "I'm here to see my daughter. How many times are we going to do this?"

"Why should I even let you in here? You get to have this wonderful relationship with Beth while you help deteriorate my own relationship with Rachel."

"No," Quinn cut in sharply. "You aren't about to blame me for your own mistakes and decisions. If anything, I gave Rachel the confidence she needed to stop crying herself to sleep at night because of what a failure you are."

Shelby's face contorted into a multitude of expressions before disgust and annoyance pulled her lips down into the deepest sneer Quinn had ever seen. "Get out," she spat.

The door was slammed in her face and Quinn stood on the porch, trying to control her ire. But she couldn't and before she knew it, she was pounding harshly on Shelby's door. "Let me in!" she snarled loudly, banging the sides of her fists onto the wooden door. "Let me in, Shelby—I am not fucking around!"

Her fists began to hurt but she continued to pound on the one obstacle that kept her from seeing her own daughter. "I have a right to see her!"

She must have looked crazy as hell, and wondered for a brief second if this really was what temporary insanity felt like. She was so close, so close to her daughter and she couldn't get through to her. Her chest heaved desperately to take in breaths because it felt like her heart had stopped working altogether. "Open this fucking door, Shelby!"

She pounded hard once more then slumped exhaustedly against the door. She quieted her own breathing as the almost muted sound of her own daughter crying reached her ears. Grief washed over her completely and all the fight she had in her washed out. "Baby," she whispered, pain choking her vocal cords. "Beth, baby, I'm so sorry." She rubbed the cooled wood softly as if she were stroking Beth's cheek. "I'm so sorry, baby. Stop crying, okay? I'm sorry."

She could hear footsteps nearing the door that were too heavy to belong to her daughter. The door creaked and Quinn backed up enough to allow it to open. Shelby stood at the threshold and Quinn looked up to her face, devoid of emotion.

"Quinn!"

Her gaze dipped down to find Beth trying her best to run to her. She ended up teetering and it took her some time but eventually, she was able to brush past Shelby and out the door. She looked apprehensive and a little unsure. Quinn stood still as Beth neared her with the same pensive features. "I'm sorry for scaring you," Quinn said quietly.

Beth walked closer, hesitantly wrapping short arms around Quinn's neck.

"I'm sorry, baby," Quinn whispered into curly blonde hair. She pulled back enough to wipe tears off Beth's long eyelashes. "Hi," she murmured with a watery smile.

Beth buried herself into Quinn's chest, cooing softly. Quinn inhaled a deep breath, rubbing the back of Beth's head in an attempt to calm them both down. When she looked back up Shelby had tears in her eyes, her stony expression slowly dissipating.

"Why would you do that?" Quinn asked, her voice cracking.

Shelby looked away, wiping her own eyes. "I never thought I'd be jealous of a teenager." She laughed bitterly at herself. "I—come in, Quinn. I didn't—" she shook her head, walking back into the house.

Beth still had her face buried in Quinn's chest and Quinn just scooped her up in her arms, pressed another kiss to her hair, murmured another apology and walked inside. She kicked the door closed behind her and followed Shelby into the kitchen. "What the—" she stopped short of cursing when the slight weight of Beth in her arms reminded her that she needed to calm down. "What was that?"

Shelby turned around, looking frazzled and out of sorts as she leaned back against a counter, folding her arms across herself in an attempt to appear more put together than she actually was. "Look, I said I was sorry," she said tiredly, running a hand through her hair.

Beth leaned up to kiss Quinn's cheek and Shelby made this small sound from across the kitchen. Quinn smiled down at Beth, kissing her on the cheek as well before looking at Shelby.

"She talks about you all the time. As much as a nineteen month old baby can talk about someone." Shelby shook her head sadly. "She constantly says your name; she always plays with the little lamb stuffed animal you bought her."

Quinn smile widened as she leaned down and kissed Beth on the nose.

Shelby stared sullenly down at the ground. "I have made…so many mistakes," she said quietly.

Quinn didn't say anything. She clutched Beth tighter to her body as she stared hard at Shelby. Shelby looked like she was two seconds away from either going crazy, crying, vomiting, any variation of all three, really.

"I have hurt Rachel so badly. She can't even," her lips rubbed together and her face scrunched up in a way that looked like tears would be imminent, "she can't even look me in the eye." An anguished sound ripped unexpectedly from her throat that startled Beth into burying her face into Quinn's neck. Quinn ran a soothing hand down Beth's back as she regarded Shelby carefully. "And I feel like I keep messing up and now I've done something I shouldn't have and—" she sobbed again and Quinn clenched her eyes shut because this was so not what she had bargained for today when she had wanted to come visit her daughter.

"Look, Beth shouldn't have to see you like this," Quinn said quietly. This was turning from a cry to a meltdown as Shelby slid from the counter to the floor, tears now streaming down her face. "I'll take her tonight," she continued. "I'll keep her safe, feed her, take some clothes. And you—you just get yourself together. I'll bring her over tomorrow before school."

Shelby barely nodded and Quinn walked upstairs with Beth in her arms, packed a bag for her and walked back downstairs. "Where are your keys?" she asked brusquely.

An answer didn't come fast enough and Quinn took it upon herself to search the living room until she found them on the table. "Wanna go to my house, baby?" she asked Beth in a sweet tone as she walked to Shelby's car to get the car seat. She strapped it into her car, then strapped Beth inside, walking back inside to deposit Shelby's keys. She carefully walked into the kitchen to see Shelby sitting with her legs pulled up, arms around them, resting her chin on her knees.

Quinn stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where any of them were going to go from here. She took a deep breath. "For what it's worth, if Beth wanted nothing to do with me, I wouldn't be much better than you are right now." She took another breath. "But still, you were the one telling me to get my shit together and stop blaming others for my own problems a few months ago. Maybe you should take your own advice."

Shelby clenched her eyes closed, clearing her throat to mutter, "Make sure you feed her at least once more tonight."

"I'll take care of her," Quinn said softly. She shifted from foot to foot. "Anyway, see you tomorrow, I guess."

Quinn tried to feel sympathetic to whatever was going on with Shelby but the simple reminder that her daughter was in her car waiting to go home with her had her practically sprinting to her car. She hopped inside, starting the engine before turning around to flash a smile at Beth in the backseat. "Ready to go?"

"Yes!" Beth squealed, tilting her head to mimic Quinn's position.

Quinn chuckled, turning back around. "Sorry the car's a little cold, but it'll warm up soon." She reached forward to turn the heat on full blast. Her thumbs strummed along the steering wheel, trying to figure out just where the hell she was going to go when an idea popped into her head. She fumbled excitedly for her phone and slid it unlock to dial Rachel's number.

"You've reached Rachel Barbra Berry's cell phone; Rachel speaking."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Hey, so I have this hypothetical scenario for you."

She could practically hear the smile in Rachel's voice when she uttered, "Lay it on me."

"What would you say if I hypothetically asked you if you wanted to see Beth? Right now."

"Quinn, you know how awkward things are between me and Shelby right now. Especially with everything that transpired between us yesterday."

"I know, baby, and I'm not asking you to come over to Shelby's house to see Beth. What would you say if I had Beth in my car right and we were looking for somewhere to go?"

She heard Rachel suck in a huge breath and hold it. "Y-you have her?" Rachel asked in the softest voice.

"I have her," Quinn said with a warm smile.

"I—legally?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "What—you think I'd steal her? Actually, don't answer that."

"Please come over," Rachel finally uttered.

"Okay, be there in twenty. Say bye, Beth." Quinn turned in the seat to extend the phone back to where Beth was. "Bye!"

"Bye, sweetie! See you soon!" Quinn heard Rachel say back before she disconnected the call.

She took a deep breath, feeling both excited and nervous to have the two most important people in her life finally meet.