Warnings: child abuse
Quinn's decision to stay in New York was of course met with resistance. So much that Papi and the Lopez clan flew back out to meet with her and attempt to change her mind. Mami was distressed, offering reasons why it would just be better, easier for Quinn to come back to Lima and let the family take care of her.
She cried when Quinn softly, gently told her that she'd found someone to help her take care of herself.
Rachel took the "Lopez Inquisition" well, fielding questions by Mami and Papi with all the grace and confidence of someone now known as The Girlfriend. But, she told Quinn, the hardest question came from Quinn's youngest brother.
He sat down and regarded Rachel with dark, searching eyes, and then tilted his head.
"Charizard or Cyndaquil?"
"Cyndaquil," Rachel replied immediately.
He stared at her for a moment longer, then nodded and stood up. "I like her."
After nearly a week of questions and getting to know Quinn's family, Rachel collapsed into Quinn's arms, exhausted, but happy and with an invitation to come with Quinn to Lima for Mami's birthday. Quinn smiled and nuzzled her nose into Rachel's hair, breathing in her scent.
"That wasn't so bad."
Rachel rolled her eyes. "It was horrific, and I am surprised I am not scarred for life."
Quinn grinned when Rachel kissed her quickly. "They love you already."
"I'm not so sure about that quite yet. Hey, how come you didn't get the third degree?"
Brittany looked up from her position lying on the couch with her head in Santana's lap. "I'm just naturally acceptable."
She stuck out her tongue, and Rachel scoffed.
"Face it, Berry, Britt and I are just better than the two of you."
Quinn laughed as Rachel spluttered, trying to appear offended while also trying desperately not to laugh. She felt happy, Quinn thought.
No, not that. She was happy. And that was a world of difference.
Her mother and Santana had picked her up from the hospital when she'd been released. Rachel had wisely stayed away, knowing that moment was for family and sending a message through Santana that she'd "See her whenever Quinn was ready."
She'd been ready two days later, unable to stay away for longer. Quinn knew the objections that her parents and Santana had to her being with Rachel; even with her grudging acceptance of Rachel Santana wasn't fully convinced that she would be good for Quinn, or, as she honestly told her sister, that she would be good for Rachel.
Lucky for Quinn, Brittany now kept Santana too distracted for her to voice many of her objections. And as they sat together in Quinn and Santana's too small living room, Quinn found herself thinking of that night long ago, when she was a seven year old scared little girl, in the backseat of a car on her way to an unknown world. Who would have imagined that this new life, these new people, would change everything? That in spite of it all, she was able to find family, security, and even love?
Quinn knew she wasn't "normal," that none of this would ever be "normal." She knew there were still too many things that she and Rachel would have to figure out, to overcome. Outside of Rachel, Quinn knew that she had a lot of work to do herself. There would be more therapy; no doubt there would be more personalities. She knew there would be tears and there would be fights, there would be Puck and Beth and this newest one, Lucy, that insisted Quinn put the baby book from the hospital into her bag when she left.
But through it all, Quinn hoped, there would be Rachel.
Rachel had settled in easily, probably far too easy for Quinn to be comfortable, but there it was. She had snuck her way into Quinn's heart and made her home; if Quinn was feeling particularly poetic, again, or ironic depending on how you looked at it, it was almost as if Rachel had become yet another of her personalities. Such was the quiet way in which Rachel was there, with only flashes of vibrancy and excitement simmering just under the surface. But unlike Puck, or Beth, or the others that lurked, Rachel was a constant, a simply there, a presence as strong as a kiss against her neck or a gentle hand on her cheek.
Normal or not, personalities or not, as she sat there on the floor of her living room and heard the knock on the apartment door, Quinn was hard-pressed to do anything but lean herself into Rachel and kiss her, hoping that the gesture would convey all her hopes, all her dreams. She hoped that in her kiss, it contained the one thing, the two words that would forever be her request of Rachel.
Please stay.
"We're not expecting anybody, are we?" Quinn asked, breaking the kiss and smiling when Rachel ran a hand through her hair. She stood up and made the few short steps to the door.
"Probably the pizza guy. What?" Santana said when Quinn quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't want to cook."
Quinn rolled her eyes and opened the door. "Yes, can I help you?"
The woman seemed vaguely familiar to Quinn, like a memory that she couldn't quite place. It made her nervous, made her clutch the doorknob tighter as she watched the woman twist her hands in front of her, her eyes filled with tears and her lips trembling. Despite the woman's curious composure she seemed remarkably well put together, from the flowered blouse under the smart yellow jacket, accompanied by a yellow skirt and high heels. Her hair was pulled stiffly back in a bun, and Quinn tilted her head.
Blonde hair, like hers. Eyes, like hers. Eyes which widened, just as she heard the voice, breathy and relieved.
"Quinnie."
Her daughter took a step back.
"Ma'am, you'll have to hurry."
Mommy hadn't changed out of her party dress, nor had she bothered to wipe off the mascara stains from her cheeks. It scared Quinn, and she wanted to reach up and pat Mommy's cheeks, to tell Mommy that it would be okay, that they could go downstairs and they could make cookies and Daddy would be happy again, instead of… where was he now? She hadn't seen him since he'd rode off in the backseat of that policeman's car.
He'd looked so mad…
Quinn's bottom hurt, and so she didn't want to sit down as Mommy went through her drawers and selected things to put into Quinn's small Going to Grandma's suitcase. She didn't know why she still had that suitcase; Grandma had gone to heaven when she was four. Quinn didn't remember her, except that she was fun and happy and liked to sing and dance along with records. Quinn missed her.
"L-let's pack your undies, okay, Quinnie?"
Quinn nodded, her thumb finding its way to her mouth. Daddy hated when she sucked her thumb, and would jerk her hand away any time he saw, slapping it. And Mommy would just smile sadly and say, "Try not to make Daddy mad, sweetheart. It'll be better for us both."
"M'sorry, Mommy," Quinn mumbled around her thumb. "I'll be good, I promise…"
Mommy barely looked at her. "Daddy isn't happy right now, but when you come home if you're a very good girl maybe he'll forgive you."
The officer made a funny noise; when Quinn looked at him he seemed angry, too. But not at her; he was glaring at Mommy.
"Ma'am, please, we have to go."
"I don't want to go!" Quinn said with a stomp of her foot. "Staying here, with Mommy and Daddy. Mommy and Daddy and me, I'm a good girl. I am!"
The suitcase snapped shut, and Quinn jumped at the sound. Suddenly she was swept up in Mommy's arms, and Quinn winced at Mommy's arm tucked underneath her sore bottom.
"I'll find you," Mommy said, kissing Quinn's cheeks over and over again. "I'll find you, and bring you home, and we'll be a family again. I promise. I'll find you."
"What are you doing here?"
Santana's voice was loud, angry, and Quinn flinched, even as she couldn't take her eyes off her mother. There was so much hope there, Quinn noted, so much hope past the pasted-on smile and the uncertainty. Decades of waiting, of wishing, imagining of what this moment would be like. Quinn knew it well.
Judy Fabray had been at Quinn's adoption, but it had been too much, too soon, and her daughter had cowered in the arms of her brother and hidden away. But as she grew older, the curiosity grew as well, and she wondered what life would have been like, if she'd gone back "home."
As much as she loved her adoptive family, as much as she needed Mami Lopez, Quinn would often, late at night when everyone else was sleeping, lie in her bed and imagine what it would be like, to see her mother again. She had no desire to see her father again, that was certain, but her mother… She used to dream that she'd be walking down the street and she'd hear her mother's voice. That she'd turn and see her mother standing there with her arms open, and Quinn would run into them. Her mother would take her home, and they'd make cookies and watch movies. There would be no anger, no hurt, no pain. No Russell Fabray. Just the two of them, happy and loved.
But that had never happened.
"No, really, I asked what the hell are you doing here?" Santana was next to Quinn, then in front of her, half-shielding her sister.
"I came to speak to Quinn," Mrs. Fabray said primly, "Not to you."
"Yeah well we're kind of a package deal," Santana snapped. "Quinn, go back into the living room."
"What?" Quinn said dumbly.
"Santana, I don't think—" Rachel started.
"I said go back into the living room, Quinn. I'll escort Mrs. Fabray out."
She could feel herself begin to fade. Everything was hazy; Quinn's arms felt loose and heavy hanging down by her sides. She could see Judy – her mother's look of confusion.
"Quinnie? What's wrong, I just want to talk to you…"
"You're not going to talk to her."
"What's wrong with her?" Judy's voice was high-pitched now, frantic.
She was seven. Seven years old, in a pretty dress and ankle socks with lace. A little girl with tears in her eyes, being carried upstairs to her sentence.
I'm sorry, Daddy…
Quinn felt her thumb begin its ascent to her mouth, felt the world begin to go black…
And then, a hand in hers.
"Quinn?" Rachel's voice was soft, inquisitive, reassuring.
Quinn blinked, and the world came back into focus. She glanced down at Rachel, who was looking at her with concern and love.
"No."
Santana looked at her. "What?"
"I'll talk to her."
"Uh, no, you won't."
"San, I don't think that's your call to make." Brittany came over and put her hands on Santana's shoulder, gently steering her away from Judy, Rachel, and Quinn.
"But—"
"San. Just let them talk."
Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand gently, still looking worriedly at her. Judy glanced from Quinn to Rachel, her lips curling in obvious disapproval, and it took everything Quinn had not to lash out at her. Once again, Rachel's voice brought her back.
"Are you sure this is what you want?"
"No," Quinn confessed. "But I have to."
Rachel nodded and tilted it up as if to kiss Quinn's lips, then, realizing their audience, brushed a kiss to her cheek. "I'll just be in the kitchen with Santana and Brittany, then."
She vanished with one last squeeze to Quinn's hand.
Quinn watched her go, gratefully, before turning to… her mother.
"Hello."
"I… told you that I would find you," Mrs. Fabray said, looking awkward to still be stood in the doorway, but Quinn wasn't ready to invite her in.
"How did you find me?"
"I-it wasn't difficult; I just searched your name on the internet and went from there. I thought about hiring a private detective, but your father thought that was rather friv…"
She stopped suddenly, as if she'd been caught in a lie, and Quinn wished she had.
"My father?" she said. "You're still…" Now it was Quinn's turn to stop, unable to finish the sentence.
"Oh, well, he's out, you see, and he needed me, I couldn't just turn my back on him. Everything is so much better now, and we want… we want you to come home sometimes, for visits. Christmases, holidays. You really should talk to him, Quinnie, he's so different now, and he's so sorry."
"I bet he is," Quinn said, curling and uncurling her fists at her side. "What exactly is he sorry for?" She couldn't help the anger inching into her voice, couldn't help the haze just off her periphery, the warning of danger.
Puck was on the prowl.
"I'm not sure I understand why you're being so hostile, Quinn," Judy said, casting her a look and then breezing into the apartment, brushing past Quinn to stand in the middle of the living room. "I know this is difficult, seeing me after all this time, and I know you probably don't trust your father but I-I said I'd find you."
Her voice faltered, and for a moment Quinn felt sorry for her. Almost.
"Why is he sorry?"
Mrs. Fabray sighed. "He's sorry that things ended up the way they have," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He's sorry that you're not home, that we're not a family."
"Oh."
She wanted those words to be true. She wanted to go back to Lima and see her father, to have him hug her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. And she needed her mom, needed to feel that love and support. Needed to have birthdays and Christmases with her family, holidays that didn't end up with her…
She looked at her mother. "Is he sorry that he beat me?"
Mrs. Fabray stepped back as if she'd been struck herself. "Q-Quinn, that's not a very nice—"
"Has he ever once said that he was sorry for beating me so hard he left bruises?" When Mrs. Fabray's eyes flicked away from Quinn's gaze, she knew she had her answer.
"You never protected me," Quinn said, her voice rising. "All you did was tell me that I needed to be good, I needed to be better, so he wouldn't get mad at you! I was a kid. I was a kid! You were my mom, you were supposed to help me! He beat me, and I think he did—he—" She paused, unable to finish the thought.
She shook her head sadly. "We're not a family." She raised her chin in defiance, undaunted by the tears that were streaking down Judy Fabray's face, as they had done that many years ago. "I have a family, with a mom, and a dad, and sisters and brothers. And a girlfriend who loves me."
Her voice caught with her next words. "I'm messed up, Mommy, don't you get it? I'm messed up, and it's because of you and him. I'm broken, maybe I always have been, but I've found people to always love me. No matter what I do or who I am, they're always going to love me."
Quinn took a deep breath. "Get out, please. And don't come back."
"Quinn—"
"Get out!"
"I think Quinn has asked you to leave."
Quinn sank into Rachel, who had suddenly appeared at her side and slipped an arm around Quinn's waist, holding her close. Judy Fabray stared at them both, opening and closing her mouth like a fish, before it finally snapped shut and she regarded the three girls who now flanked her daughter. Quinn glanced at them gratefully.
Brittany, with a determined look. Santana, like a snake ready to strike any second. And Rachel, an expression on her face that Quinn hoped to never see directed at her.
All of them, part of her family.
Judy Fabray took a deep breath, then regarded Rachel. "She'll be taken care of?" she asked, sounding defeated.
"She'll be f—"
"She asked me, Santana."
Though it was said pleasantly, with a little half-smile, Quinn knew this wouldn't be the first time Rachel and Santana would butt heads about her care. It both worried her, and thrilled her. Santana fell silent, and Rachel squeezed Quinn's waist with her hand.
"Your daughter," Rachel said carefully, "Is a beautiful, loving, sweet, amazing individual. And I would say it's no thanks to you and that… man you call a husband, but the truth is, Quinn is who she is because and in spite of what's been done to her. Let me just say that she is loved, she will always be loved, and her family will always be there to care for her."
"Yeah," Santana said through clenched teeth, and Quinn almost laughed at how comical it sounded. "Now get out."
Mrs. Fabray looked at the three girls in turn again, before swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, and hurrying out the door.
Quinn sagged, and Santana rushed to her. "I got you, baby sis." Rachel stepped back, chewing on her lower lip.
Quinn smiled a little, and then shook her head. "San, thanks, but I need…" She glanced at Rachel.
The flicker of hurt was unmistakable on Santana's face, but she nodded. "Yeah, I get it." She offered a small smile, and then went off into her bedroom with Brittany.
Rachel's arms quickly went around Quinn, and she steered them both to the couch, sitting down and pulling Quinn close to her.
"I hurt her," Quinn whispered, tucking her head underneath Rachel's chin.
"Who, Mrs. Fabray? She'll get over it, I don't think your anger is misplaced."
"No, Santana."
"Oh." Rachel was quiet for a minute. "I can try to be less abrasive?"
Quinn shook her head. "It isn't that," she said. "Maybe she feels like you're trying to take her place, but I feel as if… her place is different now, if that makes sense."
"It does." Rachel stroked Quinn's hair and kissed her cheek. "Are you all right?"
Quinn shrugged. "I was happy, then sad, and now… kind of happy again, because you're holding me. I'm not sure how to feel, what's okay to feel."
"Whatever you're feeling is okay. Unless you're feeling that musicals are unnecessary, then we might have to talk."
Quinn laughed, a full, rich laugh, and squeezed Rachel tighter. "Did you mean what you said?"
"What did I say?"
"Now you're being vague on purpose," Quinn snorted, tickling Rachel and laughing again when the woman batted her hands away. Her voice softened and she looked away, feeling shy. "You said that I'm amazing. Loving. That I'm… beautiful."
"Oh that." Rachel waved her hand in dismissal. "I meant every word."
Quinn toyed with Rachel's hand, linking their fingers together as she had that day at the hospital. "Even when I'm not beautiful?" She couldn't meet Rachel's eyes, afraid of the answer she'd find there.
"Hey." Rachel tipped up her chin, forcing Quinn to look at her. "I love you. I love you if you're Beth, Lucy, Puck, or whoever else is in there. I love you when you're happy, when you're sad, when you're angry at me. No matter what. It's all you, Quinn, and you're beautiful."
Quinn smiled, feeling the blush spread over her cheeks, and she leaned in to kiss Rachel. "It's going to be rough," she admitted. "I'm not always going to be nice and sweet. But I-I promise… I'll work so hard to never hurt you again. I promise, Rachel."
Rachel returned the kiss, softly. "I know," she whispered against Quinn's lips. "I love you, Quinn Lopez."
"I love you too, Rachel Berry."
Quinn grinned, feeling once again warm and happy, just as yet another knock sounded on the door.
"Dude, that had better be the pizza guy," Santana said, coming into the living room with Brittany and leaning down to kiss the top of Quinn's head before moving toward the door. "Fifty minutes or it's free, I'm serious. Bad enough I had to order two, thanks to Miss I'm Vegan over here. Quinn, stop laughing at me!"