A/N: In response to recent feedback, thanks for the positive ones as always, hugely appreciated. Had a few little complaints, as usual from anonymous readers. in response to those, if you cannot be bothered to sign in, I dont see why i should go to the effort of italicizing lyrics so you don't have to read them - have you not discovered scrolling? Secondly, 'divide the speech paragraph' is a little vague, can you be more specific please? and thirdly, this is my fiction, i can have Finn say whatever i like and if i have decided he has grown sufficiently to use the word reciprocally, that's my call.

Finally, HUGE thanks to rizzlecalzonafic for some awesome ideas. I have now used them and i think because this chapter focuses on the games, the flashbacks work quite nicely. Lots of reflections in this chapter, a little angst and setting the scene. let the games begin, as they say.

Chapter 52

Rachel dropped Quinn off at JFK the following day. She rolled into the departures area to meet the attaché with Rachel bringing the two large bags to save having to carry them on her knees. The queue at the baggage drop area was literally full of Paralympians, many in chairs like hers. She recognized a few others from the swimming squad, which was one of the largest of the US teams. Rachel went as far as the meeting point and gave Quinn a quick kiss goodbye. They had already spent time with each other that morning saying their proper goodbye, so with a gentle squeeze of her hand, Quinn let her go with a promise of phoning as soon as she landed.

Rachel walked to the exit without looking back, not wanting Quinn to see the tears running down her cheeks. She didn't even know why she was so emotional; they were only going to be apart for a week. Maybe it was just the enormity of the situation; her fiancé was going to compete at the highest level she could. It seemed pretty ridiculous that two kids from Lima, Ohio would end up living the life they were at present. She almost had to pinch herself that in three weeks she would debut in Wicked on the same stage she and Kurt had trespassed on in junior year.

Rachel saw three guys in wheelchairs trying to steer their luggage cart through the security bollards as she went to cross the road. They not only had baggage but an extra wheelchair each somewhat precariously balanced on top. She wasn't sure if they were basketball or rugby players, but went over and offered to help, explaining that she had just dropped off her fiancé. One guy seemed to be having a big problem getting the trolley to go straight, it was completely unbalanced. He pulled his sports chair from the top and dropped it down, allowing Rachel to go ahead and push the trolley for him, while he directed the second chair on the ground. She directed them to the attaché and received a somewhat confused glance from Quinn as she made her way back towards the blonde.

"I'm just being helpful," Rachel announced with a big grin, her tears long since brushed away.

The guys looked at Quinn and then at Rachel and put two and two together quite quickly, not that it seemed to dull their interest in either woman. Rachel stayed a while as the guys flirted with them both. She made them promise to behave around her intended and look after her if they went into the city. "I don't want any good-looking beach volleyball players of either gender harassing my beloved at the beach!" Rachel was indignant, which only served to make Quinn roll her eyes and shake her head at how quickly Rachel had won over half the men's basketball team in less than ten minutes. Another quick kiss and a hug followed to a chorus of wolf-whistles from the guys, making the blonde blush furiously. Moments later, Rachel was gone again, but the episode introduced Quinn to a few others besides the swimmers she knew.

The flight was like no other Quinn had taken. It was practically full of Paralympians and assorted volunteers and coaches, it was also the first time she had flown without a friend or relative so it was strange to spend much of the time chatting to other competitors she didn't know. It also took forever to load and unload the passengers because so many of them needed assistance and the use of the aisle chair. They had four crews to help get everyone on as quickly as possible. It was also pretty raucous with so many teams loading as once. The basketball players departing from New York were pretty loud, as were the rugby team, in fact there was a good deal of poking fun at each other from the two groups. The track and field athletes were generally a little quieter, though there were characters there who were fairly gregarious too. The swimmers were sort of somewhere in between in terms of volume. Quinn was a confident person, but rarely engaged in practical jokes or attracting attention to herself so she tended to simply enjoy the banter and just raise an occasional eyebrow at the more extrovert athletes.

Of course it wasn't the only plane to be taking the US team to the games, flights were also departing from some of the other major hubs like LA and Houston. Eventually the team would have a reception the following day after all the teams were landed and rested. There was a good team spirit amongst them all and a determination to do better than they had four years before in London, where the British and Chinese had been enjoying the benefits of host and prior host nation. Quinn chatted to the others around her as she was sat in the front row of a block of four seats in the center of the massive jet. Around her were mostly other paraplegics and quadriplegics who had been loaded into the nearest seats for ease of extraction.

Eventually, hours later, they landed in Rio and the excitement which had worn down during the journey to a quiet buzz suddenly ramped up again to fever pitch.

"Hey, it's me," Quinn's voice came through the phone.

"Oh my God! Is everything okay, the flight and things?"

"Yeah, sorry it's so late, but you told me to call."

"It's fine, we stayed up late anyway."

"Everything okay there?"

"Yeah, except we miss you already. Santana is like a bear with a sore head because we won't see you all week," Rachel chuckled.

Quinn laughed at her best friend's grouchy temperament that often disguised sentiment. "You'll be here soon enough."

"I know, she's been out today to buy a huge flag and painted 'Team Quinn' on it. Oh and I forgot to say that we are having more people join us in Rio."

"We are?"

"Yeah. Kurt was a little reluctant, but Blaine persuaded him that some of the best gay clubs on the planet are in Rio and that they love eighties music so he agreed and they are going to come for a week while your events are on."

Quinn squealed for a moment. "Tell Kurt I'm honored. I know he wouldn't be interested in watching sport of any description really, so that's great."

"Are you exhausted?"

"A bit, flying a long way is a pain in the butt and I need to get rid of the external plumbing so I'm waiting for a nurse to arrive, but they have a massive list to work through."

Rachel knew Quinn was referring to the fact that she had chosen to have a catheter fitted for the flight so she didn't have to be strapped into an aisle chair and helped onto the toilet. The blonde liked her dignity and it was about the least dignified experience she had ever been through when they flew to the World Champs the year before. The short flights they had taken previously hadn't been an issue, but surviving ten-hour journeys without using the toilet was impossible. When she did some research, as much as she disliked the idea of having to pee in a bag, it seemed preferable to being dragged through the plane. They had medical staff on board to help out with that sort of thing and she had felt better about simply having one of them empty the bag for her in her seat instead of the alternative.

"How's the accommodation?"

"Really good. Completely accessible which is great and clean. I have got an idea for the new place as well now too. I'll let you see when you get here."

"Great. I can't wait to arrive. Call me when you can, or even just a text."

"I will, gotta go. I think the nurse just turned up. I love you."

"Love you, too."

Quinn slipped into the pool and rose to the surface a moment later. She was in the practice pool rather than the competition pool, but they were due to head in the following day. Her practice session with the US team was scheduled for the next hour and fifteen minutes so she was going to make the best of it. She set off down the right side of the lane and kept close to the lane marker because it was busy and there were several athletes in every lane so they had to go up one side and down the opposite. Quinn had been laughing earlier because she had seen the British team in before them and they swam the other way round, on the left. She had turned to one of her teammates and commented that it was just like driving on the opposite side of the road. People were such creatures of habit. The bad news was that the Brits and the Australians looked good and they didn't even get a look at the Chinese yet. They were the worst, you would swim against some thirteen-year-old with no previous experience or form and they would just kill everyone in the pool and then never be heard of again after. Quinn was hoping there wouldn't be any wonder child in her events.

She was able to compete in her own category for the individual races, but the IM was actually an S6 race and in the relay, she knew she would be up against some fast girls in the freestyle. Teams had to fight a tactical battle. You had to have a mix of swimmers from different categories to make it fair. Some teams opted to put the most able swimmer on the last leg, freestyle, but the US had their quickest swimmers on butterfly and breaststroke to try and get a big lead and hope Quinn could hold off the other teams in the last length. It was always a gamble, because some countries would have a swimmer with minimal impairment to bring their team home and without a kick, Quinn would probably be the least able competitor on the last leg.

She was tired from the journey still and could feel it in her arms, but they had been in training for three days now and it got easier each day. At least they hadn't had to travel through so many time zones, just three ahead, so jet lag hadn't been a massive issue. On her last lap she cruised back to the starting blocks and held on briefly while the volunteer brought her chair over and helped to hoist her out. They were well trained, that she could concede, knowing exactly the right technique to help everyone out if they needed it.

Sitting on the side, Quinn pulled off her cap and goggles and threw them into the small plastic crate that she had her things in. Her robe was still draped over the chair where she had left it, so she pulled herself back up and shrugged it over her shoulders as was her habit. Her US team towel was in the crate with her iPod. She toweled her hair off and tied the robe around her narrow hips, then checked her feet were safely folded on the rest rather than still dangling on the floor; he often had to check because sometimes she forgot to replace them. Flicking off the brakes, she rolled out to the changing area. She was due a massage next so there didn't seem any point in showering as she would only have to repeat that after the physical therapist had finished with her.

She headed back towards the residences half an hour later, earphones in, listening to Rachel's voice to help her relax after the session. It was a playlist she had chosen with the brunette some time ago, songs Rach had recorded at NYADA.

The physical therapist pummeled her into submission, her shoulders throbbed with ache and heat from the friction and she could barely drag her tired body into the shower shortly after. Two hours sleep followed that and then a trip to the dining hall for food and plenty of it. Each day was the same so far, wake, swim, massage, shower, sleep, eat, swim, shower, sleep, eat again, sleep again. She filled her belly full of lasagna and a sports drink before heading back to the residences.

Her present schedule was a little like being back in rehab where you just didn't get time to think they kept you so busy. Quinn rolled up to her bed and slid over, popped her earphones in and chilled out for a while. Her mind went to the time she had laid in another bed, not sure what her life would be like anymore; not sure if she had any kind of life to look forward to.

Flashback four and a half years ago.

Her mother's tear-stained face reflected how she felt; broken and unfixable. Frannie on the other side squeezing her hand like somehow this would bring life back to her lower body. Quinn found it hard to look them in the eye. Whenever she did, the pain was unbearable. Like the guilt both of them felt over how they had treated her when she was pregnant. Then Rachel would arrive and Quinn's heart would just fracture even more at the sight of the brunette in a wheelchair as well. Quinn knew that Rachel had gained back sensation and some movement pretty quickly while her own legs just remained numb and insensate. It was the only thing that made her happy, knowing that Rach was going to be okay eventually, but at that time, when she was still stuck in bed most of the day and only allowed up for a couple of hours at time, seeing Rachel in the chair was just too hard.

She put her palms over her eyes, pressing the tears out so that they didn't show so obviously. Rachel's lip would tremble and then something would pass across her face and she would put on a determined look as though she just wouldn't allow herself to cry anymore. Quinn knew she had red-rimmed eyes from the tears. Ever since she had been pregnant they had come so easy and she couldn't blame it on baby hormones anymore.

Rachel would glance at her legs, almost forcing her will on them to move, but of course they never did. It had all been just too much. The only thing that had kept her going was visits from Santana if she was honest with herself. The Latina had rarely cracked, somehow knowing that Quinn was barely holding it together and the harsh comments and poking fun helped to keep her grounded. Quinn had said thanks for lots of things her best friend had done, but she wasn't sure if she had ever really thanked her for that; keeping her sane when everything else had turned to shit.

The staff had been used to dealing with spinal cord injured patients who were less than happy about their situation and being stuck in the hospital for weeks and weeks. They had cut her some slack when Quinn's feisty temper and icy glare had fixed on them, even put up with the silent treatment she offered up a lot of the time. What they hadn't let her get away with was curling in a ball in bed and refusing to get up and go to therapy. The blonde could barely believe that about herself now. She had been so lost in her despair that she hadn't wanted to get up and go in the pool for aqua therapy. Her rehab team had arrived one morning when she had been in pain and refused to move, the decision having been made by Frannie that her little sister wasn't going to be allowed the luxury of wasting away in a hospital bed a moment longer than she had to. Quinn had turned to give her sister a death glare before turning away again.

"I can't even fucking sit up, why the hell would I want to get the swimming pool; isn't one near death experience enough for you?"

But somehow Frannie had known that she would attempt refusal that day and countered it by getting Santana along. San had stood, hands on hips and threatened her sister.

"Q, drag your lazy behind outta that bed or I'm a gonna go all Lima Heights on your crippled ass!"

Frannie had looked pained as the offensive words had left the Cheerio's mouth, but that was enough to fire up the blonde and surprising them all, she moved her hands underneath her body and attempted to push her body upright. The therapist and an orderly jumped in to help and soon had her sitting up on the side of the bed, her entire body feeling like jelly. She hadn't been able to even sit up on her own and the plastic brace around her body had been all that held her straight; not something the normally ramrod straight Fabray spine was used to.

Her wheelchair had been brought alongside and they had used a curved board to slide her from the bed to the chair. She had felt sick to her stomach. That was normal for her, every time they got her up, so the orderly had a bowl ready in case she spewed her guts. But Quinn was made of stern stuff and she refused to give in to the nausea and the pain; no one had warned her that being paralyzed actually hurt. When they told her she wouldn't have any sensation below her injury, they hadn't warned her that the injury itself would be like a dagger in her spine. It hurt so much to sit up at first that she almost fainted from the pain and the air was sucked out of her chest as she tried to keep breathing. Artie had held her hand through the first day in the chair but he wasn't there that day and felt like she needed him to keep her from collapsing to the ground. She felt arms wrap around her shoulders and wanted to protest because it hurt a little more, but she heard Santana whisper in her ear.

"You're amazing, Q and I know this is a crock right now, but it's going to get easier. You how I know that? I know because you're Quinn Fabray. You are the only other person in my life scarier than me and once you get out of here we are going to rule that school once more, the Unholy Trinity needs reuniting so move your ass down to that pool and get swimming or I am going to push you down the first flight of stairs I can find."

Quinn had actually laughed for the first time since the crash. She elbowed San with her good right arm and caught her in the ribs.

"Oof," San grunted. Turning to the therapist a winded Santana mumbled. "All good, get her out of here."

Quinn shook her head and grinned.

Once she had been in the water, her recovery had gone into overdrive. She had felt the freedom and she had felt normal for the first time since the accident. Rehab had been easy after that, just get up, eat, train, eat, sleep, train, shower, eat, sleep. Just like now. Quinn closed her eyes and drifted off in contented slumber.

Rachel trudged heavily down the aisle of the aircraft pushing Santana who looked like she was about to fall asleep standing up. They followed along behind Scott who had to stoop through the doorway to get off the plane. Judy looked immaculate as always, even at some ungodly hour of the morning. The group walked into the airport and headed for immigration, passports in hand, excited despite the tiredness.

They eventually made it to the hotel just outside the Olympic Park. The suite had two bedrooms and a living room, perfect for the extras they were expecting later on, who would be able to sleep on the pull-out sofa. All four crashed immediately and slept for a few hours, after letting Quinn know they had landed obviously.

The phone in the room started ringing shrilly.

"Oh God!" Santana pulled the pillow over her head and ignored it, but Rachel reached out an arm and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Wake up call, ma'am," the voice answered.

"Thanks," she dropped the phone down and grabbed a pillow and threw it at Santana.

"Whathefuck?" the Latina sat bolt upright. "What was that for?"

"Ordering a wake-up call," Rachel dragged herself from the bed.

"It wasn't me, it was Judy I think."

"Oh, sorry then."

They heard voices in the other room and then the buzzer went at the door. More talking followed a few moments later by Judy knocking on their door.

"Are you guys up? Breakfast just got here."

The four all went to eat and then tried to decide what they were going to do for the rest of the day. They had tickets for lots of sessions, but weren't allowed in to watch practice so until the opening ceremony, they had time to be tourists.

"Quinn should be here soon, she texted to say she had just finished training and was getting the bus here. Apparently they have buses running to and from the Olympic Park from our hotel every ten minutes." Rachel had been reading the details from the brochure.

"I am so happy that she has finally made it here," Judy stated. She couldn't quite believe how their lives had changed over recent years. If she had made a list, it would seem like the plot of a bizarre TV show.

She thought back to the moment the Hudson boy had sung that ridiculous ballad and she had been forced to confront the knowledge that her baby was having a baby at fifteen. Then the break-up, realizing she had a drink problem but unable to deal with that until the accident. That was the point, Judy realized. The point at which her life had actually started to get better.

Quinn's accident had forced her to sober up, put her daughter's needs before her own. After that had been getting Quinn home and back to school, then into some semblance of normal life before she had gone again, this time to college. But at least by then Judy had felt enough like a worthwhile human being again that she had allowed herself a second chance of happiness and here she was with Scott, about to see her baby compete for her country, legs or no legs, her Quinnie was amazing and she was so proud of her.

Judy reflected quietly about the transition they had been forced to go through as a family.

Frannie who had been distant with her mother after the pregnancy and divorce, was suddenly back in her life on a regular basis. Sometimes she felt like her eldest daughter didn't really trust her to stay sober, but Judy was made of sterner stuff than either of her daughter's had thought. The woman had been determined not to mess things up again.

It had been hard at first, to avoid the booze. Each time she arrived home from the hospital, thinking about Quinnie lying in the hospital bed, her eyes red from crying, her body broken. It had taken more strength than Judy knew she possessed herself to resist opening a bottle. She had to tip it all out down the basin to avoid it. She even went into the room that used to be Russell's den and opened the safe, taking out the bottle of twenty-year-old Scotch that her former husband had stashed in there and poured that out too. Then she had taken the bottles and put them in the trash outside. She went in the kitchen and on a piece of paper she wrote a contract for herself that promised not to buy or consume any more alcohol. She added her signature and stuck it to the fridge door with magnets. Each time she was tempted, she went to the fridge and read it again, then opened the chiller and took out a soda and drank that instead.

As Quinn had started to get better there had been so much to do in the house that she had called Artie's mom. Mrs Abrams had been round as soon as she could to look at the house and help her out. Judy had been so grateful to the woman.

They sat drinking coffee and Artie's mom helped her make a list of all the things she would need to arrange in the short term and some other things for the long term.

"You'll need a ramp at the front door, on the inside as well as the outside, I noticed there was a step down into the hallway. Concrete is best for outside and it would be best if it could be fitted with an electric coil for the winter, it makes sure that snow and ice don't settle on it. We didn't realize that was so bad until Artie skidded down one day and couldn't stop; he tipped forwards out of his chair and scraped up his knees."

Judy looked pained.

"Don't panic about these things. I didn't think I would ever get over what happened to Artie, but he has surprised me so much. Things happen and we just have to keep moving forwards because we can't change the past."

Judy nodded. "Thank you so much for this, I wouldn't have known where to start."

"I'm glad I could help. When Artie told me, I wanted to offer to talk to you, but he thought it might not be the right time initially. I was pleased when you mentioned it to him." Mrs Abrams placed her hand on Judy's and squeezed it lightly. "She'll be okay eventually," she smiled gently. "The room you planned to knock through will be good, but you should definitely get specialists in to fit the bathroom. It's probably the most important adaptation and you want to get it right first time because it would be a nightmare to try and change it again later." The woman continued on with helpful advice for ages.

Eventually when they had everything listed, Judy sighed. "I had no idea things would be this complicated."

"I know." Artie's mom was sympathetic to Judy's predicament. "When Artie first came home I used to cry all the time watching him. He was so little when it happened and just watching that tiny wheelchair rolling through the house instead of his feet scampering around was heartbreaking. But a few months later we were just used to it and you will be too. It won't be long before she comes home and has a house full of her friends again. They'll treat her normally soon enough and you'll adjust too."

"But what if it doesn't work out like that?" Judy had a worried frown on her face, doubting that anything was ever going to go right for her daughter.

"You have to make sure that it does," was all the other woman said.

Later that afternoon, Judy saw Mrs Abrams to the door.

"Call me if you need any more help or advice, or even if you just want a shoulder to cry on. You're not alone."

They shared a long hug at that moment and Judy breathed a sigh of relief that she would be okay eventually.

Judy's thoughts were interrupted shortly after as the buzzer went at the door. She stood and went over to find her daughter grinning on the other side.

"Quinnie!" Judy reached down and hugged her so hard she was worried she might actually snap in half.

"Hi, Mom." Quinn quirked her eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"Of course, darling. Come on in, everyone is excited to see you."

Rachel squealed and threw herself at Quinn before the blonde could even get in the door.

Frannie had everything arranged neatly for the next week. Her husband and the kids were going to stay with his parents, leaving her free to go see her baby sister compete. She had the tickets, but Quinn didn't know and it was going to be a surprise for them all. She had her hotel room sorted, her flight was arranged, so all she needed now was a ride to the airport.

This was the first time Frannie had flown overseas and going on her own had been a bit nerve-wracking. Doing things alone was a Fabray specialty though, so she sucked it up and got on with picking her way through the airport in Rio. She was tired, but then she was a mom of two, so she was accustomed to that anyway. Her ride to the city was interesting, she could see the astounding, yet familiar geography of Rio de Janeiro that she had seen on countless TV shows. Still it didn't seem real that she was here. If she could have afforded for her whole family to be here they would be, but when they sat and did their accounts, it just wouldn't have worked. Robert had sighed and shook his head. "We can't afford four air fares, babe. But this is your sister and this is probably the most important things she has ever done in her life, so you go and take lots of video for us."

She missed them already but undeterred, she caught the bus out to the hotel. Rachel had told her where they were staying, well she had actually sent an email with all the details of the itinerary on it, she was incredibly organized. Frannie arrived just in time to check in and then get ready for the opening ceremony that evening. She would be lucky to see Quinn up close, she knew. While the others had special passes, she just had a regular ticket, but it wouldn't prevent her from being proud of her little sister and being there at her special time.

Frannie's mind wandered back as she thought about Quinn. She had teased her a lot when she was younger.

Her little sister had always had annoying habits. She used to jump around the furniture a lot practicing her gymnastics, pull stupid faces, annoy any boy Frannie was seeing and generally made the house look untidy. Quinn had also been the apple of her daddy's eye until she became a bit chubby, then she noticed how their father would comment to Quinn about what she was eating. He forced her to the orthodontist at a pretty early age to get her teeth straightened too. Quinn was so in love with the man, she hadn't seen it, but Frannie had. Her little sister had gone along with it though and happily taken up the exercise classes he wanted her in, the weight had melted away and Quinn was happier the other kids weren't being so mean to her anymore. Then they had moved house when Frannie was in junior year of college and she hadn't seen her sister for a little while, but came home for the holidays to find Quinn looking like she had been punched in the face. She had two black eyes and her nose was covered in surgical tape. Her father had actually allowed his thirteen-year-old daughter to get a nose job. Frannie hadn't been home much after that, but each time she had, Quinn seemed more and more obnoxious. Teenage hormones and a superior attitude had replaced annoyingly energetic.

Frannie opened the front door and made her way into the den and saw her sister just in from school, feet propped up on the coffee table as she lounged on the sofa.

"Hi, Lucy. Mom in the kitchen?"

Quinn looked at her, rolled her eyes and ignored her.

"What's with the scowl?" Frannie looked at her little sister, who was actually as tall as her now.

"Shut up!" Quinn had looked up again from her book and glared at the college senior she barely knew anymore.

Frannie rolled her eyes. She took note of the cheerleading uniform and it all made sense. Her little sister was spending too much time with the popular girls and thought pretty much everyone beneath her.

"Mom, what's up with Lucy? I came in, said 'hi' and got a death glare."

"Oh she doesn't like to be called Lucy anymore, honey. We have to call her Quinn."

"Why?" Frannie had a puzzled look on her face.

"She doesn't want her past appearance to follow her into high school so she uses her middle name there instead." Judy sighed and went back to preparing dinner.

Frannie didn't like it, but she got used to it after a while. They all did, even their father.

The elder Fabray sibling made her way into the Olympic Park having just handed over her ticket for inspection. She followed the crowds making their way to the impressive stadium, found her entrance and climbed the stairs to get her way to the block she was in. The ceremony was amazing, tons of dancing, music and joy. Everyone was just so happy.

Finally the moment she was most looking forward to had arrived. The teams entered through a tunnel and made their way around the track. The procession of teams took a long time and the US would be at the back. Frannie watched as competitors from the other nations went around. They all looked so happy to be there, despite the difficulty some had in walking. There was a whole host of disabilities on show and none of them seemed in the least bit worried about the fact that they couldn't see, couldn't walk or were missing limbs. It was fairly inspiring to see.

Frannie had gotten used to seeing her sister in the hospital bed. Mostly when she thought about Quinn almost dying the guilt she felt about a lot of things bubbled to the surface. She had failed her sister in so many ways. Wiping a tear away, she forced herself through the door and plastered a smile on her face. Quinn hated overt sympathy and this day was going to be tough. The therapist had worked her hard the day before and Quinn had started to realize that getting up didn't mean standing, it meant getting into a wheelchair. There had been a tantrum when she had come back from her session and the threat of refusing to do anymore PT had been issued so Frannie had brought in the back-up plan; Santana Lopez. It was going to make Quinn hate her even more, but she didn't care about that. She would be the bad guy, but she wouldn't let her sister down again.

The plan had worked and Quinn had thrown an unappreciative glare her way, but had made a move to get up, trying it without help even. That was what Frannie needed to do; make her sister mad so she would summon the courage and determination she was going to need to get through the tough few months ahead.

Frannie watched her sister get wheeled out of the room with a scowl on her face still and tears in her eyes. When the door closed, she moved to her sister's friend who had sat on the bed rubbing her ribs where a sharp elbow had bruised her. The older Fabray sibling didn't know the Latina well, but she wrapped her arms around Santana and thanked her profusely. In a moment of weakness, San started crying again now that Quinn wasn't in the room. The pair held each other for a while then sniffed and wiped the tears away before the strong façade was put in place again.

The months went by quickly and Frannie had found herself closer than she had been in years to both her sister and their Mom. It had been good to reconnect, give a chance for her kids to get to know their family and make up for her lack of support during the difficult times before, like when Quinn was pregnant.

Frannie had accompanied her one afternoon to her regular rehab session at the hospital and had watched how much easier it had been for Quinn to get from her chair to the large padded table they used to stretch her out before starting on the hardcore exercises. Quinn was learning how to get from the floor to her chair and vice versa in case she fell and to make moving from one level to another easier. Quinn was motivated that day; she wanted to be able to go to the swimming pool and get out of her chair alone without anyone having to lift her down to the poolside and of course, reverse the process afterwards.

Her therapist had spent time with what Frannie knew by now was called 'range of motion' exercises. Essentially bending, straightening and rotating the joints Quinn could no longer control, her ankles, knees and for the most part, her hips. Once finished, the blonde slid back in the chair, no longer needing the board to get in and out from a level surface, her arms and shoulders were much stronger than before. She wheeled up to the mats on the floor and where in the past, she would have used them for cartwheels and round-offs, she now used it to protect the delicate skin on her paralyzed limbs.

The therapist kept up a running commentary of advice and feedback as Quinn, somewhat tentatively, shuffled her hips forwards in the seat. Then one hand had reached down, but stopped short of the mats.

"I'm going to fall out," Quinn had hissed and retreated back.

"Do it again, I'll grab your pants so you don't slide too quickly, but you need to get your weight forwards or you won't move anyway." The unsympathetic tone was evident. Tough love they called it.

The hand reached forward again, down as far as the footrest and paused. Quinn lifted first one foot and then the other off the metal bar they sat on. She wobbled briefly and the therapist snagged her track pants around the waist to make sure she didn't hit the ground too hard. Finding her balance again, Frannie saw her sister reach for the mat and place a hand down. The muscles in her arm and shoulder tightened as most of her body weight was supported by the one arm. The other gripped the frame of the chair and stopped her body from sliding out knees first. Quinn used her shoulder to bounce her weight forwards a little more and her body began to shift a little like an avalanche. At first there was just a slow tipping forwards, then as the hips left the seat, her lower body folded on itself and she ended up with her butt landing on the back of her heels and her knees collapsing to the side, but she was out of the chair even if it had been somewhat undignified.

"I thought you were going to hold onto me?" she turned, a little irritation showing in her voice.

"If I held on, you wouldn't have left the seat." The therapist grinned at her.

To Frannie's surprise, Quinn had grinned as well. With a Gallic shrug, she nodded. "I guess so. Getting back in isn't going to be pretty either is it?"

"I doubt it," the therapist had laughed. "Come on, move your butt, Fabray."

To her credit, the teenager, who had her left hand still gripping the frame of the chair, pulled it closer to her and took hold with the right hand in the same place, just in front of where the cushion ended so she could push down onto the flat part. Her teeth were gritted and it looked uncomfortable, but Quinn pushed down with all the force she could muster. Her lower body slowly unfolded as her hips rose towards the cushion. When eventually she had her hips clear of the frame, Quinn slid back into the chair before lifting her feet back in place. The therapist gave her a grin and a pat on the back before promptly tipping the chair forwards and Quinn fell unexpectedly back to the mat.

"Do it again," he had instructed to a pretty pissed looking blonde.

Frannie's heart had jumped into her mouth and she had started to move forwards, refusing to believe that what appeared to her as abuse, could be called therapy, only to be stopped in her tracks as Quinn burst into a fit of laughter from her position doubled over on the mats.

"Slave driver!" Quinn had shouted at him, but clearly enjoying the whole thing.

Frannie shook her head at the memories. It was where she had learned that sympathy and feeling sorry for her sister weren't going to work. Treating her like she wasn't fragile and helpless was what she needed.

As that thought left her mind, Frannie saw what she had been waiting for, the US team started to make its way out of the tunnel. She scoured through the team, which was one of the largest to try and find her little sister. About the third row back down the line, on the nearest side to her, she spotted the familiar blonde crop wearing her uniform of white skirt and navy blazer with a navy cap. She was looking incredibly happy and waving to the crowd as she rolled past. A quick flick of her wrists to roll forward, followed by a wave and then another roll forwards.

Frannie had no idea when she started crying but she couldn't stop once she had seen Quinn.