Chapter Twenty-One
"Is it just awfully clingy of me to say I miss you?"
Quinn chuckles to herself as she makes her way down the stairs with the intention of grabbing an apple from the kitchen. "I think we're way past that, Rachel," Quinn says into the phone. "Also, I'm pretty sure you just arrived."
"Two hours ago," Rachel points out unnecessarily.
Quinn can't contain her amusement. "Wow, you have a problem."
"Are you saying you don't miss me?"
"I don't recall those words leaving my mouth."
"Well, I don't recall the opposite leaving your mouth either."
"You're a demanding little thing, aren't you?"
Rachel gasps. "Did you just refer to me as a thing?" she asks.
"A little one," Quinn quips.
"Why, I never, Quinn Fabray."
Quinn just laughs again as she reaches for a green apple in the fruit bowl. She shuffles over to the sink and rinses it before taking a dainty bite. "How's your mother?" she asks.
Rachel sighs. "She's… good," she says.
"Please don't tell me you're already fighting."
"I left Wallingford fighting with her already, Quinn," she says primly. "This isn't anything new."
Quinn thinks she should be well-versed in dealing with unwilling parents, but she's never actually fought with either of her own parents. They just say things to her, and she accepts it.
Compliant and obedient, that Quinn Fabray.
The perfect daughter, really.
It's sickening.
Rachel's relationship with her mother is very different, and Quinn won't even pretend to understand it. She's just going to be a good girlfriend and act as a sounding board whenever Rachel feels the need to vent.
Which, Quinn has come to realise, is quite often.
Quinn prefers a fired up Rachel Berry anyway. From what she's learned over the past few months, this is more like the girl she used to be before, and Quinn wants to do everything she can to coax the truest version of her girlfriend back into existence.
"Tell me something," Quinn says. "Is it colder there than it is here?"
"Definitely!" Rachel says. "It's freezing. I'm practically frozen."
"So, what you're really saying is you're at your normal temperature?"
Rachel laughs out loud. "You do miss me, don't you?"
Quinn doesn't reply the way she wants to, because Eric chooses that moment to enter the kitchen. His smiles widens the second he spots her, and Quinn feigns chewing. She points at her phone, to prove a point, but he just hovers, and Quinn sighs internally.
"I do," Quinn eventually says into the phone. "More than you could ever know."
"I think I have an idea."
"Doubtful," Quinn drawls, turning away from Eric and leaning her hip on the counter. "But, seeing as I refuse to engage in this debate that I'll undoubtedly win, why don't you tell me just what you talked to your father about, in regards to my… situation?"
Rachel is quiet for the longest time. "You're right," she eventually says. "You would definitely win the debate, hands down."
"Rachel."
"I love you."
Quinn rolls her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. "You're lucky you're so many miles away," she warns playfully. "Though, I could get it out of you, if I really put my mind - and body - to it."
"Oh, I have no doubt about that," Rachel murmurs, and Quinn flushes. Then: "Did he talk to you?"
"We talked, yes," she says, still very aware of Eric waiting on her. She sighs. "Can we talk about it later?" she says. "There's kind of something I need to do."
"Oh?" Rachel sounds, slightly surprised. "Is everything okay?"
"I think so," Quinn says.
"Quinn?"
"It's fine," she says. "I'll call you back in a little while, okay?"
"Okay," she relents, not sounding happy about it at all. "I love you, Fabray."
"Me too, Berry," she whispers, and then hangs up before Rachel can ask her why she wouldn't say the actual words back to her.
God, Eric.
Quinn pockets her phone as she turns around, suddenly all too aware of the triumphant smile on Eric's face, as if he realises she shortened her call with Rachel for him. She groans internally, and mentally surveys her options.
In her mind, she's filed him away as 'Relatively Harmless,' because it's impossible to imagine anyone in this family intentionally harming anyone. Based on what she's learned from Rachel, she thinks Eric harbours an unhealthy amount of jealousy towards her, and Quinn realises she's now been lumped in with all of that.
She was aware of his… attraction to her when she was here for Thanksgiving - he's not very subtle - but it's different this time.
This time, she's dating his sister and, this time, he knows she's unavailable.
Quinn clears her throat. "Is there something you need, Eric?" she asks indifferently, biting into her nearly-abandoned apple.
Eric steps forward, and Quinn tenses. "I was wondering if you'd like to take a walk with me," he says, smiling indulgently.
Quinn looks over her shoulder at the darkening sky. "Isn't it a little late?" she questions before her brain can catch up with her mouth. That wasn't a rejection, Fabray.
"If I recall correctly, you've been out later than this," he points out. "By yourself, no less."
Quinn definitely can't argue with that, and she's not going to. Instead, she says, "I'd prefer not to."
For a moment, he looks surprised she would refuse. And then he smiles, seemingly ready to try to convince her.
Quinn raises a preemptive hand to stop him. "I'm not interested, Eric," she says, and there's a finality to her tone that he seems to miss.
"It's just a walk, Quinn."
"Maybe it is," she allows, because she doesn't want to be the girl who assumes; "but I'd prefer not to. Thank you for the offer, though." And, with that, she makes her escape with her stupid, unfinished apple.
As she heads back up the stairs, she contemplates telling Rachel about this. She hopes tonight is enough to get Eric to stop, so she rather sends a different text to her girlfriend.
Quinn: I REALLY MISS YOU.
Rachel: Whoa. There's no need to shout.
Quinn: Skype before bed?
Rachel: It's a date.
Rachel actually startles at the sound of the knock at her door, which makes her giggle softly. Her cheeks are still flushed from her conversation with Quinn - which was really just the two of them trying to outdo each other with innuendo - and her mother gives her a curious look when she pops her head into Rachel's bedroom.
"Are you decent?" Shelby asks.
Rachel just rolls her eyes as she shifts her laptop off her lap and sets it at her side. "Always am," she says, trying to hold onto her good mood. She doesn't want to be angry with her mother, but she can't help it sometimes.
They're too… similar for their own good, and it manifests in a very volatile relationship.
Shelby moves further into the room and settles herself on the edge of Rachel's bed. She runs her palms along the tops of her thighs. She's never been nervous or unsure in her daughter's presence, but they just can't seem to talk to each other.
Shelby clears her throat. "How is Quinn?" she asks gently, knowingly.
The smile that blooms across Rachel's face is breathtaking, and all Shelby can do is stare at her in absolute wonder. "She's good," Rachel says, suddenly breathless. "She's actually really good."
Shelby's never seen her daughter like this. Before she moved to Connecticut, there were a few crushes here and there, both girls and boys, but nothing serious until Dominic Rice, but Shelby tries not to think about him.
There was Finn, as well, who put stars in Rachel's eyes for entirely different reasons. She saw a leading man, something of a protector, but he failed her countless times.
Then he failed her in the biggest way, and Shelby burns whenever she thinks that her daughter actually considered getting back together with him following the aftermath of the assault. Shelby's glad Rachel came to her senses, and she imagines the current person in Rachel's life had a little something to do with it.
Or, a lot something.
Because, the way Rachel talks about Quinn is transcendent. The look on her face is everything Shelby has ever wanted for her, and she worries that it's so tied to another human being.
Something she won't be able to control; something with the potential to hurt her in the worst ways.
Hasn't she been hurt enough?
By people who are supposed to care about her; people who are meant to love her. Her supposed friends, and even her family.
Particularly Shelby.
Shelby closes her eyes when the thought crosses her mind, her heart aching in her chest.
"Mom?" Rachel questions, noting the slightly pained expression on her mother's face during a retelling of a story about Quinn and her particularly-hilarious dislike for berries. "Are you okay?"
Shelby shakes her head to clear it. "I just missed you, is all," she says and, before Rachel can stumble through trying to avoid returning the sentiment - she's always been a lousy liar - Shelby keeps speaking. "Does she treat you well?"
Rachel, for her part, frowns at her mother's strangeness. It's nothing new, but there's something oddly melancholy about her tonight. "She does," Rachel says, choosing not to mention the single ugliest fight the two of them have had to date. "Well, she tries," she relents. "We're both trying," she adds a moment later because Rachel isn't blameless. They're both works in progress, each of them having to deal with a myriad of issues, both separately and together.
"But she makes you happy?"
As if on cue, Rachel's smile blossoms once more. "I've never known a happiness like this," she says, and her voice turns wistful. "Mom?"
"Hmm?"
"Next time we Skype, would you like to meet her?" she asks, extending an olive branch.
Shelby smiles timidly. "I'd really like that," she says.
Rachel attempts to smile, but her mother's mood is throwing her off. "Is everything okay, Mom?" she asks, finding that she's willing to do anything to wipe that… lost look off her mother's face.
Shelby breathes in slowly. "I just missed you," she says, and she means it. "I feel as if I barely see you, and I know that's nobody's fault, but I just… miss you."
Rachel reaches for her closest hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "You know, in less than, umm, seven months, I'll be in New York permanently, and you'll see me all the time. You'll end up sick of me."
Shelby laughs softly. "Impossible."
Rachel grins at her. "Challenge accepted."
Quinn manages to avoid being alone with Eric at all costs. When she's not with Daniel or Emily-Anne, she's with Declan or Julian. More often than not, she's with both boys. The two youngest Holt cousins have really taken to her, and living in the same house has helped strengthen their growing bond.
When Quinn isn't with any of them, though, she's with Kelsey. They've worked hard to put together a suitable portfolio and, while Quinn is still somewhat apprehensive about the direction she intends to take regarding her tertiary education, she's not willing to rule out anything.
Law is still on the cards.
So is Medicine, if she's being entirely honest. Doctors couldn't save her sister, and she sometimes wonders if she might have been able to… help, just in a different way to the one she obviously failed at.
"Do you do any writing?" Kelsey asks her the afternoon before she's scheduled to leave for Hartford. They're up in Daniel's room, Kelsey sprawled across the bed as Quinn finishes up with the last of her packing.
"Hmm?"
Kelsey shifts into a sitting position. "Writing? Do you write?"
Quinn blinks. "Like… stories?"
"Anything."
Quinn bites her bottom lip for a moment, and then reaches into her bag to pull out an A5 notebook. "I journal," she confesses quietly. "Well, between all my little doodles, I write about my days. It's nothing exciting, but it's helped me deal with… stuff."
Kelsey regards her carefully. "You've had a lot of… stuff to deal with, haven't you?"
Quinn shrugs. "I still do."
"Can I tell you something?"
Quinn stops all her fidgeting and gives Kelsey her full attention.
For a moment, Kelsey falters under the intensity of the other girl's gaze, suddenly realising what everyone else has been talking about. Being Quinn's sole focus is overwhelming, and she absently wonders if every person this girl meets is doomed to fall in love with her in some way.
"My family hates that I'm dating a black guy," Kelsey says. "I mean, they're too polite to say anything to Levi's face, but he knows. It's why I can't take him home with me, and why I come here for all the major holidays. We'd probably switch it up, visiting each other's homes, if we wanted, but I don't. I won't subject him to their backhanded comments and thinly-veiled tolerance, and I won't spend time with them without him." She sighs, suddenly unsure why she's unloading all of this on Quinn.
For some reason, she suspects the other girl just understands.
"My family doesn't know I'm gay," Quinn confesses, surprising them both "I don't think I'll ever be able to tell them."
"We're going to get married, you know?" Kelsey says, trying not to make a spectacle of Quinn's confession. "The idiot has it all planned out. He has no qualms about such things. He doesn't even care that my family might not approve. They're nothing like this one, because I'm certain nobody even bat an eye when Daniel announced his intention to marry Em.
"So, Levi's got this whole plan for us. He's going to graduate, pass the Bar, and then take Chicago Law by storm." She rolls her eyes. "He wants to support my passion, he says. The way the people in this family love… it's overwhelming. It's everything and nothing, and I think we're both pretty lucky."
Quinn smiles knowingly. She hasn't really been able to talk to anyone about any of this, and even she couldn't have predicted it would be Kelsey she would be confiding in. "I tried, you know," she says. "I tried not to give in. I wanted to be older and away from my family when I came out, and it was never my intention to get into an actual relationship while in high school. But Rachel didn't really give me a choice in the matter. She just… happened."
Kelsey chuckles softly. "She'll do that to you."
Quinn tilts her head to the side. "You don't find it weird?"
"What?"
"Discussing homosexuality?"
"Not at all," Kelsey says. "I'm an artist, Quinn. I'm open to everything. I have so many gay friends; I'm pretty sure I'm the odd one out. I had to come out as straight to them, I swear."
Quinn laughs, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "I don't get to talk to anyone other than Rachel about this," she says, sobering at the sound of her own admission. "I'm… terrified all the time, Kelsey." Her voice trembles, and she mentally scolds herself for her weakness. "I don't - I don't know what they'll do if they ever find out. And, not just to me."
Without giving it much thought, Kelsey rises to her feet and draws the younger girl into a hug. It's awkward at first because Quinn stiffens at the contact, but then she slowly relaxes and accepts the foreign comfort.
Kelsey releases her first, realising she might be pushing the girl to her limit. "Listen to me, Quinn," she says, placing her hands on the slightly shorter girl's shoulders. "Whatever happens, just remember that you have us, okay? The boys can be idiots, and the family can be a bit much, but they love with everything they have, and you're now one of us. Got it?"
Quinn nods.
"Good," Kelsey says, and then releases her fully, retreating to her position on the bed once more. "Now, tell me, what kind of stuff do you write?"
"You know, you're going to have to keep walking when I'm gone," Quinn says, smiling affectionately across the desk at Hiram. "I'll call you every single day if I have to. It's important you keep it up, okay? And, maybe, when I next come back, we'll be able to jog together."
Hiram laughs a little too loudly, unsure whether she's being serious or not, but he sobers when he realises she is. He casts a nervous look around his study, looking for anything to help him get out of this.
When he finds nothing, he sighs and says, "Oh, well, I think that's asking for a little too much, don't you think?"
Quinn straightens. "Not at all," she says. "If I never have to hear Rachel's voice telling me something's happened to you ever again, I'll take it. You didn't hear her, Hiram. That sadness and utter devastation. So, no, I don't think I'm asking for much at all. Your daughter expects you to live forever, and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure it happens. I won't stand idly by and watch as she loses you."
Hiram swallows audibly, feeling the intensity of Quinn's declaration. There isn't an inch of amusement in her tone, and it's nothing like when Rachel says it.
No, right now, there isn't even a hint that the Universe could even attempt to thwart her. She's determined.
"I'll try," Hiram finally says.
"That's not good enough." Quinn says flatly.
Hiram shifts in his seat. "I'll make sure, Quinn," he says. "I'll follow all my doctor's orders, and I'll keep up with the exercises. I want to be here for as long as this world will have me, believe me."
Quinn merely nods.
Hiram risks a smile. "You know, I'm actually going to miss you," he confesses. "I know, in the grand scheme of things, we haven't really spent all that much time together, but you already feel like a part of the family."
Quinn smiles indulgently, allowing herself to enjoy this moment. "I don't really know much about family or belonging," she admits; "but I've never felt more… right, anywhere else before."
"You'll always have a home here," he says. "Please, please never forget that."
Quinn tilts her head to the side. "I might have to take you up on that offer in the not too distant future."
"I assume you remember everything we talked about?"
"Yes, Sir."
Hiram sighs. "I sincerely hope it doesn't come to… that, but we're trying to be realistic here," he says sadly. "Be careful while you're up there, okay? Call every day, and make sure you eat all your vegetables."
Quinn laughs softly, and then grows serious. "Thank you, Hiram."
"For what?"
"Everything."
He shakes his head in amusement. "Well, in that case, you're very welcome."
"So, how are you feeling about going back to Hartford?"
Quinn responds by holding up an orange bottle of pills and rolling her eyes at the screen of her laptop. "I really wish I could Apparate."
Rachel hums in agreement. "Gosh, that would make life so much easier," she says. "Though, I imagine the sensation of being pulled through a tiny tube from your navel can't be all that pleasant."
"At least it's over quickly," Quinn says, leaning forward and sighing. "I have like five hundred hours of travel ahead of me."
"I think you're proving, with every single day, that you're even more of a drama queen than I am."
"Shut up."
"I love you."
Quinn sighs softly, a smile on her face. "I love you, too."
Rachel stares at her for the longest time, taking in the lines of her face and tired eyes. "You're not getting much sleep, are you?"
Quinn runs a hand over her hair, smoothing it down unnecessarily. "I miss you," she says. "I don't like sleeping without you, and I'm stressing out about seeing my parents for what could possibly be the last time, ever."
Rachel realises Quinn is saying a lot of things with those words, but she isn't sure how to respond. "It's going to be okay, you know," she eventually says. "I know my Dad has you… doing things, but you know you can call me whenever you want… if you want to talk, or if you want to vent. Just, call me, any time."
Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Wow," she murmurs. "You really miss me, don't you?"
"I do!" Rachel suddenly bursts out, and Quinn laughs in response. "I really miss you, Quinn. Like, I want to crawl through this screen right now and settle myself in your lap and lick the length of your - " she stops suddenly when there's a knock at the door, her eyes widening in alarm at the direction her sentence was going.
Quinn laughs out loud at the alarmed look on her face.
Rachel just scowls at her, and then calls out, "Come in."
Quinn holds her breath as she watches Rachel talk to someone who must be Shelby. Rachel looks more… settled, even upbeat, about her mother, and Quinn is surprised by how relieved she actually feels to know that truth. For whatever reason, she wants Rachel to have good relationships with all her parents.
She has three that love her wholeheartedly, and Quinn has… none.
Rachel glances hesitantly at Quinn, asking a silent question.
Quinn merely nods.
She's ready, even if she's not.
Rachel's smile grows, and she reaches out for Shelby. "Mom," she says, "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Quinn Fabray."
Despite herself, Quinn finds herself sitting up straighter and blushing slightly. She's never actually met a boyfriend or girlfriend's parents, and her heart rate spikes as soon as Shelby moves into view, dropping down onto the bed with Rachel and smiling entirely too knowingly.
"Hello, Quinn," the woman says, and Quinn is struck by how similar the mother and daughter actually look. The woman is practically Rachel, maybe a little paler, and just aged up. "I'm Shelby. It's nice to meet you, finally."
Quinn recovers enough to return her smile. "Likewise," she says politely, her manners rising to the surface as if muscle memory.
It's awkward for a moment as the three of them just sit there looking at one another, and Quinn feels the hairs on her neck stand on end. It's obvious Shelby is… scrutinising her, trying to decide if she lives up to everything Rachel may or may not have told her mother about her girlfriend.
Eventually, Shelby turns to look at Rachel. "You didn't tell me she was so pretty," she says, not bothering to whisper, and Quinn realises she must have passed the first test.
Rachel flushes an embarrassed red. "Mom," she whines. "I definitely told you."
Quinn's smile spreads into a shit-eating grin, and Rachel groans at the sight of it.
"Look what you've done now," Rachel mutters. "Her ego can't handle it, Mom. She's going to be insufferable."
The light banter eases some of the awkwardness, and they're able to have a decent, if not brief, conversation about school and their respective plans for New Year's Eve.
Eventually, Shelby excuses herself, polite with her farewell, and then it's just the teenagers left to analyse the first meeting of girlfriend and mother.
"Well," Quinn prompts.
"It didn't go… terribly," Rachel eventually concedes, smiling in both relief and disbelief. "I actually think she likes you."
Quinn offers her an amused smile. "How do you figure that?"
Rachel shrugs. "I just know."
Quinn rolls her eyes. "Right."
Rachel regards her carefully. "I think it's to do with the fact that the first thing she did is compliment you," she explains. "She doesn't do that. Ever. I dated this girl the summer before sophomore year, and she definitely didn't like her. At all. She's never been afraid to let them know her true thoughts, regardless of my feelings for them."
Quinn, admittedly, is unsettled by the new revelation of one of Rachel's previous relationships. While they've talked briefly about Sam and Tori, and about Finn; Quinn knows very little about Rachel's relationship history.
Quinn swallows. "Is - is that something we're going to talk about?" she asks, slightly irritated with how small her voice sounds.
Rachel smiles warmly, gentle and understanding. "We're going to talk about everything, Quinn," she says with a nod. "Everything, in time, I promise."
Quinn, so very irrationally, reaches out to touch her laptop's screen, and then shakes her head at herself. "It's really pathetic how much I miss you," she says sadly. "Don't you want to come to Hartford with me?"
They burst out laughing at the same time because, no, just no.
"God, can you even imagine?" Quinn says, wiping at her eyes with her left hand. "That would be a fucking shit-show."
Rachel's laughter eventually tapers off. "I would get to kiss you at midnight."
"You would."
"It'd be magical."
"Definitely."
They stare at each other for the longest time, neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence with unnecessary words. It's something that's changed about Rachel in the months since, since. It's not exactly something she hates about herself. She finds that she appreciates the fact that she's now… tempered.
Silver linings and all that.
"Lee said he's making your favourite meal for your last night," Rachel eventually says, and then frowns. "I'm still not sure how I feel about the fact I didn't know what your favourite food was until I spoke to him."
Quinn licks her lips. "There are still things we have to learn about each other," she says. "That's the fun part."
"But you know my favourite food," Rachel points out with a slight pout.
"I think the entire state knows how much you love poutine," Quinn teases. "If your resulting moans are anything to go by."
Rachel's expression is indignant. "I resent that."
Quinn ignores her. "You're also a fan of the garlic roll."
Rachel smiles dreamily. "The garlic roll does make me happy."
Quinn grins at her.
"But you make me so much happier," Rachel says, sighing. "Just so you know, when I finally see you; I am definitely going to have my dirty, dirty way with you."
Quinn visibly straightens. "Why are you making this so much harder than it has to be?"
Rachel's shoulders sag. "We're both just so pathetic, aren't we?"
Again, they just stare at each other, both of them silently acknowledging the end of this conversation. Quinn is expected at dinner, and Rachel has a movie marathon scheduled with her mother.
"I love you," Rachel says, because those are the most important three words.
"I love you too, Rach, and I - "
This time, she's the one who's interrupted by a knock on the door. She sighs heavily, glancing at the time and realising it's probably someone coming to get her for dinner. She quickly bids Rachel farewell when the door suddenly opens, and Eric pops his head inside.
Despite herself, Quinn feels her body tensing.
Eric smiles at her as he slips into the room and closes the door behind him. "Hey," he says. "It's almost dinner time."
"I'll be right there," Quinn says, turning back to her screen. For whatever reason - something she'll ask herself plenty of times after tonight - she merely mutes and minimises the screen instead of ending the call completely.
"I can wait," Eric says, entirely too casually, and this is the first time Quinn has felt unsafe in the Holt-Berry home. It's not a feeling she particularly likes, but she's trying to give Eric the benefit of the doubt.
"That's okay," Quinn deadpans as she gets to her feet and crosses the room - further away from him - to get her shoes from the closet. "I'm sure I can manage to find my way."
"Maybe I just want to spend a little more time with you before you leave," he counters easily, pouting at her.
Quinn turns away from him, trying her best to gather herself. She's imagining it, surely. He's just being… nice. It isn't as if he doesn't know she's dating Rachel. Even though neither girl has been explicit about it, she knows he knows.
Quinn sucks in a breath and slips on her shoes, using the extra time to calm herself. It's fine. She's fine. She's misunderstanding everything.
When she's tied the last lace, she straightens and spins around… to find Eric standing much closer to her than he was before.
Much too close.
"Eric," she says, swallowing nervously. "What are you doing?"
An easy smile is all she gets in response, and Quinn knows this situation is five seconds away from turning ugly.
"Look, I don't know what your problem is, but I think I've made it pretty clear I'm not interested," Quinn says, feeling her heart rate spike.
Eric doesn't seem to be listening. "I don't get it," he says, almost as if he's speaking to himself. "I don't get it."
"There's nothing to get," Quinn says and, suddenly, she wishes she hadn't muted Rachel. All this would be over if her girlfriend could just speak, and Quinn doesn't know how to get to the laptop without -
Eric reaches out to touch her, and her first instinct is to flinch.
Quinn backs up. "Eric," she says and, for the first time, there's a certain coldness in her tone that forces him to look at her. "You are going to step away from me, right now," she instructs, her tone brokering no argument. "You're making me uncomfortable."
Eric just stares at her for a long moment, unmoving.
Quinn uses the opportunity to duck away from him, moving towards the door. She stops with her hand on the handle and turns to look at him. She's still slightly confused by what he doesn't seem to get, and she's irritated with herself for not putting a firmer end to whatever this is earlier.
She clears her throat, and Eric's eyes snap towards her. She's never been more relieved that they're nothing like Rachel's. "I suppose, in life, Rachel and I are going to have to deal with plenty of people like you," she says. "I don't know if it's petty jealousy, or if it's something more serious, but you obviously have some kind of problem. Rachel is your sister."
Eric's expression turns into an irritated scowl. "No, she's not," he says darkly, and there's a very odd lilt to his tone that catches them both off guard. "Don't call her that."
If Quinn wasn't watching him so intently, she would probably miss it. For the briefest moment, there's a flash of utter anguish in his eyes, and everything suddenly clicks into place.
Oh.
Oh.
Quinn's grip on the handle relaxes, but her body remains tense. "God," she murmurs; "you have a bigger problem than I thought."
Eric frowns, clearly confused by her word choice.
Quinn audibly swallows. "You don't get it," she says softly, echoing his words as her brow furrows. "You don't get why she likes me, and not you."
For a moment - such a long, long moment - it looks as if he's about to deny it, but he doesn't. He ends up saying nothing, just dropping his head and letting his shoulders slump in silent confession.
Quinn can barely breathe.
No.
This isn't happening.
This can't be happening.
Quinn Fabray is not about to acknowledge that - that -
NO.
Eric lifts his head. "You can't tell anyone," he forces out, practically pleading with her. Begging. "God, nobody can know." He runs rough hands through his hair, and Quinn watches him unravel right in front of her eyes. "It's wrong. I'm - I'm disgusting. What is wrong with me? She's my sister. I literally watched her grow up." He practically claws at his scalp, and Quinn doesn't know what to do. What can she even say? "I tried. I tried so hard. It was so much better when I went to school, but - but she's Rachel. She's like… the sun. That's it. She's blinding, and I don't even think I stood a chance. Do you get that? Do you understand that, Quinn?
"I mean, out of everyone, you have to be the one to understand. She - she doesn't let you go. Once she catches you; that's it, and I'm caught. I'm fucking caught, and I don't know what to do. What do I do? How do I make it go away? Because, I've tried. I thought it would disappear when she started dating that Finn guy, but it didn't. It made it worse, because he treated her like shit, and she deserves better. And then - then the - " his voice catches, and his eyes are wide and frenzied.
"It's a good thing I wasn't here when Prescott put his hands on her, because I honestly have no idea what I would have done. I tore apart my dorm room, you know? I ripped it to pieces. How fucking dare he hurt her? I would have killed him. I definitely would have. I still might.
"He snuffed out her light. He took something from her, and I hate him. I fucking hate him. I should have protected her. I should have been there to make sure nobody could hurt her. But I went away. I took myself away, so I could forget. I was supposed to forget. I was supposed to - " he stops suddenly, and his eyes settle on Quinn. "And then you," he says, and his tone is both accusatory and one of disbelief. "I could handle Finn, and I could handle Noah, and all those other insignificant people who came in and out of her life, but you… You."
Quinn picks up on his own self-loathing and hatred of her for the first time. He's managed to hide it behind lingering looks and quick glances. She really misunderstood everything. He was just trying to figure her out; possibly work out whatever it is that Rachel happens to see in her.
God, this is… there aren't even any words to describe what this is.
Eric's eyes bore into Quinn, wild with something. "You're different," he says. "I knew it the moment she mentioned your name. So, so long ago. I should have been prepared for it. But then she brought you here, and I had to watch you together, and I don't fucking get it!" His tone of voice is back to being manic, and Quinn can practically see the way he comes undone.
It's confusion and longing and self-loathing and fascination and curiosity and concern and adoration and disbelief and just everything.
"I know I can never have her," Eric says. "I know it, but it was easier to imagine when you didn't exist. What - what can you even give her? Secrecy and lies? You're a Fabray. You had her lying to her fucking family, Quinn. I mean, just who do you think you are? What can you possibly give her that I can't?"
And, really, there are a hundred different things Quinn can say to answer that question. Millions, even, but there's a minuscule part of her that feels sympathy for him. It's the tiniest part of her, because she wants nothing more than to punch him in the face in this moment.
So, what she does end up saying is maybe worse, or maybe better, she doesn't know.
"Happiness."
The word leaves her mouth before she can stop herself, and the two of them are forced to accept the truth of it in the silence that follows. As much as Eric wants to deny the girls' relationship, even he isn't blind enough not to acknowledge, begrudgingly and reluctantly, that Rachel is happier.
He just hates that it's because of her.
"You better," Eric finally says, sounding as broken and defeated as Quinn has ever heard anyone. His shoulders sag. "You better make and keep her happy," he reiterates. "Out of everyone in this world, she deserves it."
Quinn says nothing.
"And, don't hurt her," he adds. "Just, don't fucking hurt her."
Still, Quinn remains silent. She wouldn't even know what to say.
Eric sighs heavily. "She can't know," he says quietly. "She can't."
It's the moment Quinn remembers that Rachel may or may not still be on the Skype call, and her heart lurches in her chest. Her body even jerks, and the fact that Eric's eyes are downcast is the only reason he misses it.
Quinn moves away from the door towards the desk, giving him the silent cue to leave, so she can deal with… this, without him hovering over her.
God.
What is happening?
"She can't know," Eric says again. "I've worked too fucking hard to make sure she never has, and I really don't need you to fuck that up."
Quinn barely moves an inch.
"She can't know," he repeats as he moves towards the door, barely looking at her.
If he can help it, he'll never look at her again.
When Eric leaves, Quinn just stands, frozen. She didn't even realise she was holding her breath.
And then.
Scrambling across the room, she practically throws herself on the bed and grabs for her laptop. A part of her wishes that Rachel ended the call before all of that, but she knows better.
Forcing herself to take in a deep breath, she maximises the window to reveal Rachel's pale face. It's obvious she's been crying.
She still is, in fact, and Quinn has no words for her.
They just stare at each other for the longest time, the reality of what they both now know sinking in and settling between them in the ugliest way.
When the silence becomes too much, Quinn opens her mouth to speak.
"I'm sorry," she says, and she doesn't even know for what she's apologising. She thinks that girls should be able to go their entire lives without finding out their stepbrother… loves them… that way.
"I love you."
Quinn's breathing spikes. "Why are you saying that to me?"
Rachel blinks, her mind still spinning. "Because, I think we both need the reminder," she says. "I love you, Quinn. I love you."
Quinn feels a bit sick, and she imagines she's turned a bit green. "Rachel."
"I love you," she says again. "We - I - Quinn."
Quinn leans forward, needing to be closer. She just needs to touch. "I'm sorry," she says.
"Stop saying that."
"Stop telling me you love me, as if - "
"As if what?"
"As if this changes anything."
Rachel presses her lips into a thin line. "Doesn't it?"
Quinn breathes out slowly. "I don't know, Rachel, does it?"
Rachel closes her eyes for a moment. "No," she eventually says. "It doesn't. It doesn't change how I feel about you, or how I feel about - about Eric."
Quinn's nostrils flare at the sound of his name. She doesn't know if it's irrational or what, but she feels an inexplicable rage towards him.
Just, how dare he? How fucking dare he do this to them? She and Rachel already have enough to deal with, without adding on a borderline incestuous infatuation.
"Quinn," Rachel says softly, soothingly, as if she can sense the storm building in the blonde. "Baby?"
Quinn's eyes meet hers, and what she sees there forces her to curb her own feelings on the… situation. "Are - are you okay?" she asks, realising that she probably already knows the answer.
Rachel sucks in a breath. "Honestly, no, I'm really not," she confesses quietly. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Am I supposed to do something? Jesus, Quinn, this is - "
"All kinds of fucked up?" Quinn offers.
Rachel sighs in defeat, wishing she could be amused. "I'm definitely surprised, even shocked, but I'm also not," she says, frowning in thought. "All his behaviour makes sense now. It - it started a long time ago, and I just read it all wrong."
Quinn remains silent. She's at a loss as to what either of them is supposed to do. "Rachel," she says, getting the brunette's attention. "What happens now?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
Rachel buries her face in her hands. "Am I expected to talk to him about it?" she asks, somewhat rhetorically. "For all he's aware, I don't know about any of this."
"But you do," Quinn counters. "You know, and I would have told you."
"Would you?"
"Yes."
It's the fact that Quinn answers so quickly and without any hesitation that makes Rachel's heart swell. "You really would have, wouldn't you?"
"Of course," Quinn says. "I'm going to tell you everything. I thought we already discussed this."
"I love you."
Quinn's mouth quirks into the tiniest grin. "I'm sorry."
Rachel smiles for the first time since the... revelation. "I truly do love you, though. I don't think I can say it enough."
"Please, never stop."
"We're going to get through this," Rachel assures her. "It changes nothing."
And, well, Quinn has no choice to believe her.
For the most part, Rachel is right.
Nothing changes.
Quinn leaves the Holt-Berry household as scheduled, the entire family none the wiser of the shift in its dynamic.
Quinn and Eric do not talk to each other.
They don't even look at each other.
It's fine.
Quinn leaves, and nothing changes.
But, then, well, everything just does.