I've been getting such lovely comments these past few weeks. It's hard to believe there are people who are so into this story when a few months ago it was just a thought in the back of my mind. I am so humbled by this whole experience and so grateful to all of the people who have taken the time to comment, the good and the bad. I have read so many great fics that don't receive as much attention. Thank you everyone for reading.
She doesn't know if she leaves her cell phone behind unintentionally or if she actually does it on purpose. When she realizes she doesn't have it, and that she has no place to go, she wishes she hadn't, but she is, at the same time, grateful for the lock feature she installed on it not too long ago. She doesn't think Finn would ever go through her phone, not because he'd be incapable of doing such a thing, but because he'd find no reason to; they've never kept any secrets from each other. However, these are different circumstances. This time, he might want to, need to, to try and figure out where she's gone off to.
The most logical of conclusions, Quinn thinks, at least the one that could be gathered from looking through the messages on her cell phone, would be that she's at Santana's. Which is exactly where she intends to go, where her feet and her mind, and maybe her heart take her, almost involuntarily. She thanks god it's too late at night and too dark for any of their neighbors to spot her.
It's not that she particularly wants to go to Santana's. It's more of the fact that she doesn't have anywhere else to go. She can't go to her parents, she can't go to Kitty's, and all of sudden it dawns on her that ever since she was seventeen, Finn has been her place to go. She never thought she's have to go somewhere where he wasn't, or, even worse, have to go somewhere to get away from him.
When she gets to the front of Santana's house, about thirty minutes later, she hesitates between the doorbell and knocking. She doesn't think her knocks will be heard, but she's familiar with, and afraid, of the way the doorbell echoes around the whole house. Then she wonders, if in this house they're anything like Finn, trusting, and tries the door knob. The door opens easily and Quinn smiles for the first time that day, thinking that at least for once, things have gone her way.
She doesn't know what she will do if she runs into Sam. The thought strikes her just as she hears the big clock in the living room chiming, and she walks into the kitchen, where she runs, instead, into Jaeger. He's carrying a large glass that contains what looks like a strawberry milkshake, and some of it spills onto the floor. He doesn't seem particularly surprised to see her, and just grabs a rag and starts wiping the floor with it. However it was that Quinn expected him to react, it certainly wasn't like this. He looks up at her when he's done.
"I guess I'll call my mom for you, yeah?"
Quinn nods, wordlessly, and Jaeger disappears into the dark.
Santana is in bed reading, and Sam, as usual, is laying by her side, snoring, already fast asleep. It annoys her, the way he goes to sleep so early and still manages to wake up later than anyone else in the household. She's a night owl, she doesn't get it, even though Tina says it's normal, he needs his sleep, needs to rest, he's an athlete. Santana scoffs, ready to mention Finn and his six a.m. running schedule, when it strikes her as a little hypocritical, to be comparing her husband to Finn, whom everyone already sees as perfect, even her. There is only one person who doesn't, to Santana's utmost relief, though she can almost hear her voice in her head.
"You're wrong, Santana. I do think he's perfect."
"Why don't you go and be with him, then?"
"He's perfect, just not for me."
"Then who is he perfect for?"
The Quinn in her mind shrugs. "Anybody else."
Santana wonders if it's all a big lie, if no one is really ever perfect for anybody else. Or maybe the problem is that no one wants perfect, all the time. She certainly doesn't think Quinn is perfect, she'd be a fool to, but... there's something about this thing, this thing she's afraid to call love, that makes her want to be broken so she can be mended, and she knows that right now, if anyone can break her, it's Quinn. This girl, who has her singing 'Tis the season when Christmas is already over, who'd have her singing it in the middle of summer, and she remembers those hot, summer nights, those few times she sat up in the dark, thinking Love, love, come, willing it near, when she was supposed to have everything but felt like she was missing the most basic of it all, until she told herself she wasn't, she had it, she must be mistaken.
It took a while, for her to stop kidding herself. She didn't have Sam's love, he was incapable of loving anyone but Jaeger, and she didn't even want it. But there was no reason for her to be waking up at night, it wasn't like her life was devoid of love. She had Jaeger, she had Jake. She had science. Slipping out of her grasp, but still. What more did she want? What more could she ask for? Most people didn't even experience a fraction of the love she had in their lifetime, and here she was, wanting more, more to the point she couldn't sleep, wanting something whose existence she had been denying, not only to herself but to everybody else, for as long as she could remember. There had never been, in her life, not even once, proof that romantic love was a real, tangible thing, and how could she want something that wasn't? It made no sense, nothing made any sense, until she met Quinn. And now, she thinks, everything makes even less sense than it did then.
"I didn't think it was something that was ever going to happen to me," she tells Tina when they talk. And her friend, instead of telling her what Santana needs to hear, that she's a fool, that she's a selfish bitch, sighs like she's jealous.
"All the more reason for you to be grateful for it, I guess."
Santana is submerged in her own thoughts, the way she always is, but now more than ever, since her thoughts are deeper, and more troublesome than before, when Jaeger slips into the room without knocking.
"Mom?"
"Yeah?" she says, frowning. It is unlike Jaeger to come in here so late at night, or at all, when both his parents are there. It's almost like he feels he's interrupting something, and Santana sighs, thinking about how her son would feel if he knew he wouldn't be interrupting anything at all.
Jaeger has his own special relationship with each one of them, but separately. They hardly ever hang out the three of them together. Santana thinks that, for all she's tried, she's failed to give Jaeger a true, normal family, the one thing she always craved for herself, the one thing she wanted to make sure she gave her son. And now, she's breaking whatever it is that he does have into a thousand pieces, turning it into something irreparable, something that neither Jaeger nor Sam nor her will ever be able to put back together. If only she didn't have the terrible feeling, if only she didn't know from experience, that Jaeger will have to be the one picking up the pieces, the one who will have to try to figure out what to do with them, and worry about what to construct when you've only been given shards.
She looks at her son, worry etched in her face, and wonders if it isn't beginning already, now.
To his credit, he keeps his voice low. "Elliott's mom's outside. I think she wants to see you."
Santana's first thought is that Jaeger must be mistaken, that maybe he's seen a ghost. She stops herself in time, just before she says it, before those ridiculous words leave her mouth. She doesn't even believe in ghosts. Jaeger, a firm believer himself, like his father, knows this; they've had many arguments about it in the past. And there is no way, that a ghost in the form of Quinn Hudson would have appeared in front of Jaeger, she thinks. After all, Santana is the one who's haunted.
She puts her hand on Jaeger's shoulder and gets up from bed, leading him outside. She shuts the door tightly behind them, but still whispers.
"Did she say what she wanted?" she asks, trying to sound normal, nonchalant, like Quinn visits them every day or something.
"No. I was just in the kitchen, making a milkshake, and then she was there."
"Like a ghost," Santana says with a smile.
Jaeger doesn't smile back. "Not really. She's not scary."
"You don't think so?"
"No. Actually, she's the one who looks pretty scared."
Santana's eyes widen in alarm, and she hopes her son doesn't notice, but the kid is so much like her, he doesn't miss a beat.
"Don't worry, mom. She seems fine. Just... tired. And dirty."
"OK, Jaeger. Thank you for coming to get me."
"Can I go to bed now?"
Santana smiles, gesturing to the milkshake in his hand. "You wanna drink that first?"
He glances at it, almost like he'd forgotten he was holding it. "I don't think I'm thirsty anymore. You want it?"
She's about to say no, but Jaeger cuts in. "You can give it to Quinn, if you want."
She hasn't the heart to say no, so she doesn't, and instead grabs it with a smile she hopes her son can't tell isn't all sincere. She pats his blonde head. "Sleep tight, baby."
Jaeger nods, and, once again, disappears down the hall without a word.
It seems like Santana takes forever to come, so long, in fact, that Quinn is beginning to wonder if she did the right thing, if she should leave.
She hears footsteps, then, and they are unmistakably hers. Quinn knows her just by the shuffling of her feet, the sound she has been unconsciously training her ears to distinguish for months now, the one that causes her stomach to dip, her heart to slow.
She's wearing a University of Chicago t-shirt and sweats. Her hair is tied back, messy and there are dark circles under her eyes. Santana looks tired, and nothing like Quinn has ever seen her. She's perfectly aware Santana doesn't look like a model now. She's also aware it doesn't matter one bit.
Santana sets Jaeger's pink milkshake down on the kitchen counter when she comes in. That's all it takes, for Quinn to throw herself into her arms. She had been picturing this, when she was walking to Santana's, or, more like running away from Finn's, and she thought that when she did it, she'd be sobbing, but the truth is, she doesn't feel like crying.
She pulls Santana to her, presses her lips against hers and starts reaching under her shirt in a hurry. Santana steps back.
"Quinn. Wait. What the fuck?"
But Quinn just keeps going. "I want you. I fucking want you so bad."
Quinn seems weak, small, but Santana wonders at the power this woman has, to pull her out of herself and into anything.
"Quinn... I... Sam..."
"Where is he?"
"Asleep."
Quinn traces the shell of Santana's ear with her tongue. "You got a guest room, right?"
"Yeah, but I.. Jaeger..."
"Shouldn't he be in bed by now?"
"He... he is. He said he was going to."
"Good."
Quinn sits on the counter, wraps her legs around Santana. "Don't tell me you don't want to," she whispers in her ear, and Santana can't say anything. She picks her up and carries her into the guest room.
She sets Quinn on the bed and locks the door behind them, and her head feels cooler already.
"What's wrong with you?" she asks, as she lays down on the bed next to Quinn.
"Nothing. I just wanted to see you," Quinn says, already crawling on top of her.
"No, Quinn. Wait. If something's wrong... you know you can tell me, right?"
"But nothing's wrong, why are you-"
"It's the middle of the fucking night, you just walked into my house, I don't even know how you got here... of course something is fucking wrong."
Quinn rolls over on her back, stares at the ceiling. Santana lays a hand on her stomach.
"You can talk to me. About whatever you want."
"No, I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't talk to you. I'm not here to talk to you."
"Then why are you here?"
It's on the tip of Quinn's tongue, Because I don't have anywhere else to go, but she doesn't say it. "I thought that was obvious."
"What, that you're here to fuck? That the only reason you even come to my house is that you're sexually frustrated?"
Quinn sits up. "How dare you? Finn-"
"Obviously doesn't give you what you want, otherwise you wouldn't be here."
She knows it's true, that Finn never made her hungry for this like she is now, but it's not like it's his fault, it's not like he didn't try.
"Stop acting like you're so fucking irresistible. I could leave here any minute I wanted."
"Do it, then."
But Quinn can't, and she just bursts out crying. Santana tries to go to her, but Quinn stops her. "Don't touch me."
"Quinn, I want to touch you. I always want to touch you. Isn't that what the whole problem is?"
"You only want me because I'm here, because I'm the only woman available, the only woman foolish enough to-"
"Quinn, I went to a gay bar."
"When?"
"A couple weeks ago."
"Did you fuck anyone?"
"No."
"Then why did you go?"
"Because I was curious, about... how I would feel. About other women."
"And?"
"I like women, Quinn. I think I always have. But that doesn't mean... I could get another woman, if I wanted."
"Why don't you go and do that, then?"
"Because it's not what I want. I want you. I've wanted you since the moment I saw you, in that blue dress at the charity."
As moved as she is by the confession, Quinn can't let it go. "And what's going to happen to me when you don't want me anymore?"
"What?"
"Lust fades, Santana. Quicker than love."
Santana grabs Quinn's hand. "Is that what you think this is? Haven't you been listening to what I've been trying to tell you?"
"What?"
"That I can't lust after other women, I can't even look at them. That everywhere I go, all I see is you."
Quinn knows this is the closest thing she's going to get to love in her whole life. She wonders if Santana expects her to say it back, to say it too.
She kisses her instead, tries to slip a hand into her pants. "I... I want... I can't stay away from you, Santana. I want to be in your life."
Santana pushes her away. "Why? Because you like fucking me? I can't throw away my life, Jaeger's life, because of sex, no matter how good it is."
"Nobody's talking about throwing anything away, Santana."
"Of course."
"Are you really so fucking stupid that you think the only reason I'm here is that you give good head? I bet Finn could give good head too, if I let him, but every time I even think about him touching me, it breaks my heart."
"Well then what, Quinn? You've made it perfectly clear I'm only good for sex."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because you refuse to talk to me about-"
"I had a fight with Finn, alright?"
Santana snaps her mouth shut. "Oh. I... was it bad?"
Quinn shrugs. "It's the first one we've ever had."
"Seriously? Like, ever?"
"Yeah. So I don't know if it's bad."
"Why did you fight?"
"Because he's a jerk."
"Come on, Quinn. He isn't. You know he isn't."
Quinn sighs. "Can we not talk about that now?"
"It does feel anti-climatic, doesn't it? After everything we've said tonight?"
"You trying to defend my husband? Yeah. Definitely."
"But what choice do we have, Quinn? This is part of our lives. Finn is part of our lives, whether we like it or not."
"I know. And I'll tell you what it was all about eventually. It's just that... there is some stuff I need to take care of first."
Santana nods. "OK." She pauses."So, what do you want?"
"Right now?"
"Yeah."
"A glass of water."
Santana smiles, and heads to the kitchen to get it. There, she finds what she had already forgotten, Jaeger's milkshake, resting on the counter.
She pours a glass of water from the faucet and grabs it, along with the milkshake, to take up to the guest room, where she hands them both to Quinn.
"Jaeger made this for you."
"No, he didn't."
"Well, maybe not. But he wanted you to have it."
Quinn shrugs and takes a sip, then makes a face. Santana frowns. "What?"
Quinn hands it to her. "You try it."
She does, and bursts out laughing. "Salt instead of sugar."
"You think he knew?"
"No."
"Maybe that's why he wanted me to have it."
"Come on, Quinn. He would never do that."
"You sure?"
"I know what he's like. He's my son."
Quinn gets up at six, like she has an alarm clock, and, without waking Santana, slips quietly out of the house. She walks to hers, only to find Finn sitting alone in the kitchen.
"Where's Millie?" is the first thing she thinks to ask.
"I gave her the day off."
Quinn nods.
"I got your ring back." He takes it out of his pocket, hands it to her.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Quinn sits down on a stool next to him.
"You didn't go running?"
"No."
"Santana'll miss you."
"She hasn't been keeping up with her running either. Where were you?"
"At my parents'."
"You went all the way over there?"
"Yeah."
Finn shrugs, and Quinn wonders if he's pretending he believes her. "OK."
