AN: Without giving too much away, there are trigger warnings for drunken debauchery and gun violence.
XIV
Rachel hears the noise first, her eyes automatically opening at the foreign sound in the dead of night. At first she thinks it's Max or one of the boys going to the bathroom, but the sound is heavier and coming from downstairs. A kind of thud, and then a scrape.
There it is again.
For a moment, she's sure she's imagining it, but then there's another sound, like a door opening and closing, and her senses are suddenly on alert.
Without hesitation, she shakes Quinn awake, who, to her credit, immediately sits up, realising something is wrong. "What is it?" she croaks out.
"There's someone in the house," she says, her voice low.
It takes another moment for Quinn's brain to wake fully, and then she's shifting into protective mode beyond anything Rachel has ever seen. Quinn rolls out of bed, quickly and silently, and drifts to her closet.
Rachel just watches as she reaches up, keys in a code to a small safe and emerges with a small pistol, which she tucks into the back of her pyjama pants.
Rachel gulps.
Quinn looks at her. "I'll explain later," she whispers, and then shifts to the door. "We're going to get the boys, and you're going to lock yourselves in the master en-suite, okay," she instructs, and Rachel doesn't question her.
Quinn opens the door as silently as possible and listens for movement. There's a lot of it all of a sudden, as if whoever is in the house doesn't care that they're making noise. She turns to Rachel. "Stay here," she whispers, and Rachel does. She just watches as Quinn crosses the hallway towards Lex's room, opening the door and immediately saying, "Sasha, heel."
After a minute, the dog exits the room first, her ears up, Quinn following with a sleeping Hugo in her arms and Lex stumbling behind her. She hands Hugo to Rachel, and then disappears to get Max.
Lex holds onto her t-shirt and pulls her towards the bathroom. "Put Hugo in the bathtub," he says, and Rachel does exactly that. She's just straightening when Quinn returns and hands her Max, her phone and a baseball bat.
"Quinn," she breathes, suddenly unsure.
"Call the cops," she says. "Don't open that door for anyone other than me, okay?"
"Quinn."
"Rachel, please," she says, squeezing her hand, and the fact she uses Rachel's given name tells her all she needs to know. "There are people in my home, endangering the lives of my family, and I am not going to stand for it, okay?" Quinn presses a kiss to her forehead. "You have to stay here and protect our boys, okay?"
Rachel holds onto her hand, stopping her from leaving.
"I have to - " Quinn starts.
"I love you."
Quinn's eyes widen, and then she flinches when a glass shatters downstairs. "Stay here," she instructs. "Lock the door, call the cops." She looks at Lex. "Call Louisa after."
Lex just nods, and then Quinn is gone, shutting the door behind her, closing them off from the world.
Rachel manages to lock the door, her body numb. There are people in the house. Quinn has a gun. She called their children 'our boys.' Rachel just told her she loves her.
Oh, God.
Lex takes her phone from her hand, and she turns to see him punch in 9-1-1. Right. Of course.
"Hello," Lex says, voice clear. "I'd like to report a burglary in progress."
Rachel just stares at him, because he shouldn't even know that sentence. She just watches with wide eyes as he explains the situation the best he can and gives them the address. He's so calm and composed, and Rachel both envies and hates it.
When the call ends, Lex calls another number, waiting a few moments until he says, "Aunt Lou, there are people in the house." He winces a little, probably at the volume of her voice on the other end. "We're in the bathroom. Mommy's downstairs with Sasha." He glances at Rachel. "Rachel, Hugo and Max. They slept over. Yes, the door is locked. Yes, we called the cops. Okay, hold on." He holds the phone out to her. "She wants to talk to you."
Rachel takes a breath, and then brings the phone to her ear. "Uh, hello," she says, watching as Lex takes Max from her and moves to sit on the edge of the bathtub.
"Rachel," Louisa says. "Are you okay?"
"Not really."
"Can Lex tell?"
"I think so."
Louisa waits a moment. "Look, Quinn is very capable of handling herself," she explains. "I trained her myself. She wouldn't willingly walk into a situation she couldn't handle, so you don't need to worry. She also has Sasha, and she's the best weapon. Just stay with the boys, talk to Lex about soccer or something, just to distract him, and it'll be over in no time, you'll see."
"O-okay," she says.
"I'll stay on the line, okay?"
"Okay," she murmurs, unable to shake the numb feeling as she puts the phone on speaker. She moves to sit beside Lex, gently wrapping an arm around him and sighing when he leans against her. She rests the baseball bat against her thigh, wondering if she'd be willing to swing it if it comes down to it.
One glance at Lex and Max, and she knows her answer.
"Were you dreaming?" Rachel asks quietly, trying her best to ignore what could possibly be going on downstairs.
Lex nods. "We were at a carnival."
"All of us?"
"Even Aunt Lou and Aunt Jane and Christine," he says, smiling a little tiredly. "I like carnivals."
"I do, too."
"Mommy even lets me have funnel cake and cotton candy," he lets her know, grinning toothily. "And she goes on all the rides with me."
Rachel can't really think of anything to say, so she kisses the top of his head, hugging him closer. She's never been more relieved that Hugo is asleep, because she doesn't think she would be able to handle his fear as well as her own.
"She loves you, too," Lex says after a moment.
"Excuse me?"
"I know she didn't say it back, but she loves you," he explains. "I know it."
"How can you tell?"
Lex looks at her. "She called you Rachel," he says. "She wouldn't do that if she didn't."
Rachel's heart cracks in her chest, and she really doesn't know what to say to that. Which is just expounded when Lex adds, "I love you, too," a moment later.
Rachel opens her mouth to reply, and it's the moment everything changes.
The moment their worlds shift inexplicably.
It's one sound, cutting right through the space around them.
A gunshot that strikes one, but affects them all.
There is a detective asking her something, but Rachel's focus is on Max, who is sitting in Hiram's lap and watching as people bustle about the house and catalog evidence.
Her eyes drift from Max to Lex and Hugo, who are sleep together in an armchair, covered in a blanket and looking restless. She's relieved they're asleep, because they really don't need to be awake for this part.
This part where the reality of the events of the night are really starting to sink in. Rachel doesn't know what really happened, and she's not sure she wants to. All she knows is this night shouldn't have, at all.
"Ms Berry," the detective says, getting her attention. "And then what happened?"
"Huh?"
"After you heard the shot," he clarifies; "what happened?"
Rachel blinks. "Nothing. I don't know. We stayed in the bathroom, exactly as Quinn told us to, and we came out only when - " she stops at the sight of Quinn walking across the room, her shirt still red with blood and her eyes hard. She's following behind another detective, probably going to survey what other damage their intruders caused.
"When..." he prompts.
Rachel looks back at him when Quinn disappears from sight. "What?"
"You came out of the bathroom when..."
"Quinn came to get us."
"This was after the cops arrived?"
Rachel nods. "She wouldn't have come to get us until she was sure it was safe," she says, which is a universal truth about Quinn Fabray.
The detective scribbles something in his notepad, and then leaves her alone. She sits perfectly still for a moment, calming her heart, and then gets to her feet and moves towards Hiram and Max. Max reaches out for her, and she immediately lifts him into her arms, hugging him close. She closes her eyes and just breathes in his baby smell, wishing this nightmare would just end.
She stands there for a slice of forever, only startling when she feels a hand slide up her back and over her shoulder. She keeps her eyes closed, leaning to her right and feeling the strength of Quinn.
"I'm going to take the boys upstairs," Quinn whispers, breath against the side of her head. "Does Max seem like he'll go down?"
Rachel won't admit to not wanting to let him go, so she shakes her head. "Maybe in a little while."
Quinn presses a kiss to her temple and then disappears from her side once more, and Rachel can't bear to see her go. Not again. She closes her eyes again, just standing there and swaying from side-to-side with Max in her arms.
The world continues on around her, the room emptying and the house finally growing quiet of people who aren't supposed to be here.
"Rachel?" Hiram says, his voice cutting into her reverie. "Honey, don't you want to put Max down?"
When her eyes open, she, Hiram and Max are the only people in the room, and everything is so disturbingly quiet. "Where's Quinn?" she asks.
"She's showering," he explains. "The police have left. It's over now."
"Is it?"
Hiram looks into her eyes. "Sweetheart, it is over," he says. "There's nothing more to it."
"How can you say that?" she questions, her voice tense. "She - she almost - Dad, they almost - " Tears spring to her eyes. "I'm in love with her, and I - I almost lost her today, and I can't - I can't - "
Hiram wraps her in a hug, Max sandwiched between them. He doesn't say anything, which she appreciates, because she's not ready to discuss the fact she's in an actual relationship with a woman who her friends seem to hate.
Some more than others, apparently.
Bile rises in her throat, and she shuts her eyes tightly. It is a nightmare, because even she couldn't have predicted tonight ever happening. It's as if it's someone else's life, and she can't help wondering what it would have been like if Rachel and her sons weren't in the house tonight. Those men came here intending to create chaos and possibly hurt Quinn, and they've succeeded, just not the way they anticipated.
Just, would Quinn have responded the same way if there was only one to protect instead of four? She knows she shouldn't be thinking about that, but she can't help it.
"Honey, do you want me to stay?"
Rachel gives it significant thought. If Quinn were anyone else, she would say yes. But, she has Quinn, and Quinn has always been enough.
Hiram seems reluctant to leave, anyway, but she assures him they're going to be okay. She's not sure she believes it, but she still says it, almost sending it into the Universe.
The one silver lining to all of this is that she and the boys didn't actually see anything. Quinn, again, protected them from that. She's practically a superhero at this point.
Eventually, Hiram takes his leave, and Rachel closes the front door, unable to turn the lock, because there is none. It's broken, because the house was broken into.
It's surreal.
Technically, there was a murder in this house, and isn't that a wild thought? She doesn't even know if she'd be scared of anyone else walking through a door that won't lock. What's there to be afraid of when she has Quinn Fabray?
Finally, Rachel goes upstairs to set Max in his crib, tucking his stuffed lamb against his side. She spends a few moments just watching him, and then she checks in on Hugo and Lex, both of them sound asleep in Lex's bed, which Rachel suspects was Quinn's design.
Quinn is standing perfectly still on the carpet of her bedroom when Rachel finally walks through the door, her steps faltering slightly.
It takes her a moment, but she finally moves to stand in front of Quinn, who looks weary and wary. Her hair is dripping water on her shoulders, her eyes red and distant.
She looks wrecked, and Rachel loves her.
"Why do I get the feeling you're mad at me?" Quinn suddenly asks, breaking the silence as she eyes her carefully.
Rachel just stares at her, unable to stop herself from remembering Quinn's quiet voice coming through the door, telling her to open it. And then seeing Quinn there, eyes red with tears and blood on her knees and shirt.
Rachel's heart had stopped at the sight, thinking Quinn was hurt, but the blood wasn't hers. She'd stood, frozen, until Lex ran past her and into his mother's arms, and then Quinn was saying I'm sorry, Baby Shark; I'm so sorry, and Rachel didn't figure it out until a coroner was handing Quinn a bloodied dog collar and saying they would contact her about the remains.
God.
Rachel doesn't say anything, because she knows words won't mean anything. Tonight was a fucking disaster. Their first night together and this happens.
This.
Rachel actually feels sick. With remorse and guilt and disgust.
And relief.
Because Quinn.
Quinn, who is here, alive and well.
Quinn, who has lost more than just a dog today; a member of her family.
Quinn, who, without Sasha's intervention, would be de -
Rachel stops that train of thought immediately.
Quinn steps towards her, seeking permission, and then wraps her in a hug when Rachel nods. She buries her face in Quinn's neck and just breathes her in. Quinn is solid in her arms, fresh and soft and warm, and hers.
Which, well, now everyone knows. Difficult to hide a romantic relationship when Rachel is still wearing Quinn's t-shirt, and the way she held onto her when they finally came downstairs to chaos didn't take a genius to figure it out.
Quinn holds her so gently, entire body wrapped around her, and Rachel loves her. She loves her so much.
Rachel presses a kiss to the skin of her neck, once and twice, and then sucks lightly. Her lips trail upwards to her jaw, over her chin, until she's kissing her mouth and trying to convey something of what she's feeling. She's not sure it works, because she can feel Quinn trembling in her arms and her cheeks are wet with tears she hasn't allowed herself to shed until now.
"Baby, I'm sorry," Rachel whispers against her lips. "I'm so sorry."
Quinn kisses her again, a little more forcefully, and Rachel smooths her hands over Quinn's hair, holding her close and vowing never to let go.
"I'm sorry," Quinn tells her. "I - I tried."
"I know, baby."
"She - she - " her voice catches, and then it happens.
It happens, and it is devastating, Quinn's breakdown, because the truth is that Sasha saved Quinn from a bullet meant for her, and Rachel isn't sure how to feel about the fact the person holding the gun was Noah Puckerman.
Rachel shudders, her hold on Quinn tightening until it hurts them both. Quinn's hands slide under her shirt to touch her skin, and her nails dig in. There's something desperate about the action, and Rachel arches into her, just giving.
"I - I don't know what I would have done if they'd got to you and the boys," Quinn chokes out. "I can't - God, I can't even begin to imagine a world where - " Her sobs are louder now, and Rachel is caught between letting her get it out and reminding her to be quiet in case the boys wake.
So, she kisses her again, her hands sliding over Quinn's upper arms, forearms and to her hands, pressing her palms harder against her own body. "I'm here," she says. "I'm here and you're here and the boys are here. We're safe, Quinn. We're safe."
"There were just so many of them," Quinn says, and Rachel's heart clenches. "I wasn't ready for that, and I really wasn't ready to recognise them."
Rachel still hasn't decided if she actually wants to hear any of this, but Quinn obviously needs to get the words out and she needs to do it now.
"They came to destroy my work," she says quietly. "They came to prove to me there's no way I could do it without them; to send a message with violence, and - and maybe I should have let them." She closes her eyes. "Maybe I should have stayed up here with you guys and just waited for the cops to arrive."
Rachel's hand cups the back of her neck, holding her close. "Quinn, you can't know what could have happened," she says. "For all you know, if you hadn't gone down, they could have come up and found us, and then what?"
Quinn makes a strangled sound. "I put you in danger."
Rachel stiffens. "Don't you dare," she says, and her voice sounds harsh even to her own ears. "Don't you dare, even for one second, think that. Those men who came into what is supposed to be your safe place put us in danger. Them. Not you." Her grip tightens on Quinn's neck, almost forcing her to listen. "You have done nothing but protect us, from the moment you met us. It's all you do. It's who you are. How can someone whose very core is to protect have caused any of us harm?"
Quinn is crying again, and they're just standing there on the carpet of her bedroom, and this feels heavy and important and so, so significant.
Rachel kisses her cheek. "Tomorrow, you and Lex are coming to our house to stay," she says, and there isn't a hint of a question in her voice. "I have a pretty comprehensive alarm system," she quietly adds. "And five bedrooms, which I know is excessive, but one is currently my office slash studio." She breathes in. "There's also a pool."
"I don't care about any of that," Quinn says seriously. "I would live in a fucking shoebox, as long as I'm with you."
Rachel kisses her, because there's really nothing else to do.
Quinn kisses her back for a few moments, and then pulls back, resting her forehead against hers. "Can we go to bed now?" she asks.
Rachel just nods, and then moves to crawl into bed, fully aware of the way Quinn watches her every move. She settles on her side of the bed, all while Quinn continues to stand there and stare. Rachel almost says something, but Quinn quite suddenly exits the bedroom, leaving her stumped. It isn't until Quinn returns with a sleeping Hugo that Rachel understands.
Quinn makes two more trips until she finally gets into bed, their boys sandwiched between them, Lex in the middle and Max pressed to Quinn's chest. Just from what Rachel can see, it's unlikely Quinn is going to get any sleep. She looks too tense, wired in a way that makes Rachel reach out to touch her. Her arm goes over the tops of the boys' heads, and she threads her fingers through Quinn's soft hair.
It takes a while, but Quinn eventually looks at her.
"You did good, Quinn," she whispers. "Look at them, baby. Look at your family."
Quinn takes hold of her wrist and kisses her palm, letting her lips linger. The only sound in the room is the steady breathing of three sleeping boys and two women charged with the job of looking after them. It's the most beautiful sound Rachel has ever heard.
Quinn tugs on her hand a little, and Rachel meets her gaze. "I love them," she says. "I love both of them. All of them."
"I know you do," Rachel assures her, because she's never doubted the way Quinn feels about their children.
Quinn's eyes are so soft; her features open. "And I love you, too," she says.
Rachel's breath catches, because, even though she's suspected the truth of it; it still surprises her to hear the words said out loud. "Oh," she breathes, because she was never ready for that confession.
Quinn kisses her hand again. "I love you, Rachel."
There it is again.
Quinn means every word.
Rachel's prediction is correct, in that Quinn doesn't sleep a wink.
Rachel gives in to exhaustion eventually, and, when she next wakes, Hugo's hair is tickling her nostrils and Lex is spread like a star where Quinn and Max should be. She panics for a long moment before she hears the sound of Max's giggling through the open bedroom door.
Checking over her sleeping boys, she slowly extracts her body, slips into the bathroom to take stock of herself for a few minutes, and then goes in search of Quinn.
She finds her in Lex's room, packing a suitcase of clothing, Max strapped to her front. He's swinging his legs and reaching out for all of Lex's colourful items, and Rachel stands in the doorway just watching them for the longest time.
Quinn eventually notices her when she moves towards the chest of drawers to get some of Lex's socks. Her steps slow to a stop, and her smile is tired. "Hey," she says. "Morning."
"Morning, Quinn," Rachel murmurs. "Hello, Max."
Max bounces a little, arms waving, and Rachel immediately closes the space between them, wrapping both of them in a hug that speaks volumes. Quinn kisses the top of her head and rubs her back, massages her shoulders and tickles her neck, all in quick succession, as if she just never wants to stop touching her.
"What have you been doing?" Rachel asks her, pulling back a little and gently tickling Max's feet.
"Cleaning," Quinn says. "Packing. Planning."
Rachel tucks some hair behind her ear. "And, what do you have planned?"
"You know I'm yours, right?"
The words are unexpected, but she manages to nod. "I know," she says. "You're mine, and I'm yours, and - "
"I want nothing more than to be with you," Quinn says. "If you'll have me."
"Of course, Quinn," she says. "What are you saying?"
Quinn leans forward to kiss her, sandwiching Max between them. "I love you," she says.
Rachel holds onto her. "You love me."
"So damn much."
Rachel kisses her this time. "What can I do to help? I'm assuming you want to get out of here as soon as possible."
Quinn looks away for a moment. "I shouldn't want to, but I really just don't want to be here anymore," she confesses. "It's supposed to be my home; where we're supposed to be safe, and now it's just this house that was violated and where a member of my family was taken."
Rachel's fists tighten on her shirt. "We'll go," she says. "We'll go, and we'll figure out the rest, okay?"
Quinn nods, her expression a little stoic. "Okay."
Rachel kisses her once more, and then they get moving.
They're actually able to pack everything they could need, because all Lex and Quinn truly need is their clothes, toiletries, toys and books.
From what Rachel sees of the downstairs, Quinn cleaned up as best she could, setting up a tarp over the crime scene so the boys won't see. Rachel isn't sure when they'll be back, so she cleans out the fridge of perishables while Quinn loads up her Volvo and Rachel's Tiguan with suitcases and boxes.
When Lex and Hugo finally get up, Quinn gets them packing the few trinkets in the house Lex wants to take with, still in their pyjamas, and then they load up themselves as Rachel finishes up with making sure the windows are locked.
Quinn does a final sweep of the house, and Rachel leaves her to it, realising it's something she needs to do alone. They haven't been in the house long enough to form a long-lasting attachment, but Rachel can tell it's affected Quinn in a way even Quinn doesn't understand.
When Quinn walks out of the house, she has Sasha's collar and leash hanging limply in her right hand, and Rachel's heart hurts from where she's already seated in her driver's seat. Quinn walks to the garage and tests the door, making sure her Mustang is locked away and secure. Rachel knows Quinn already switched off all the lights bar the front porch one and turned off the hot water.
For whatever reason, Rachel knows they're never going to live in this house again.
That's fine.
They were planning for living together, anyway.
Now, it'll just be official.
Rachel watches as Quinn climbs into her car, which she's packed to the brim, which is also why all the children are with her. Lex and Max are in the back, and Hugo is looking far too chuffed at being able to sit up front.
Rachel waits until Quinn gives her the signal that she's ready, and then she pulls out of the driveway. She glances in her rearview mirror to see Quinn doing the same, and she checks on Lex while she's still looking.
His expression is unreadable. There were a lot of tears earlier, and he clung to Quinn from the moment Rachel opened the door until he fell asleep, so she's worried about how he's going to handle it when the reality sets in that Sasha is gone.
For now, she drives home with her family in tow, and that's her focus.
It doesn't take too long until she's pulling into her own driveway, parking behind LeRoy's car. Her fathers are sitting on the front steps, waiting to help them offload and offer hugs and gentle smiles.
Quinn doesn't pull in until half an hour later, and she has takeaway pancakes a plenty from Rose's Diner, which is a relief, because Rachel isn't sure any of them were even thinking about breakfast.
The problem, Rachel finds, is that she, the kids and her fathers all sit to eat while Quinn continues unloading her car and setting everything in the front room and dining room to be sorted through later.
Rachel can't even bring herself to eat, because she knows what Quinn is doing. She knows Quinn is isolating herself, almost punishing herself for something. For this.
As if she's the reason she's just uprooted herself and her son; the reason Sasha is no longer here.
Rachel forces down a few mouthfuls, and then sends Hiram a very significant look. He nods once, and then proceeds to steal the kids' collective attention with a story about a trip to Paris he and LeRoy went on some years ago, allowing Rachel to slip away unnoticed.
She finds Quinn in the dining room, sitting on a small box, her head in her hands and her shoulders shaking.
Rachel aches.
God, she aches for her woman.
She moves to kneel in front of Quinn, hands on her thighs. Quinn startles at the contact, and her head snaps up, eyes wet with tears and mouth set in a thin line.
"I'm so tired," Quinn whispers.
"I know, Baby," Rachel says, shuffling forward and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "I know."
Quinn hasn't slept, Rachel knows, and she's been running non-stop since Rachel woke her with panic in her eyes. Her body has to be complaining, after going through such a physical and emotional last twelve hours.
"We're safe here," Rachel assures her. "I'm safe, and the boys are safe. My parents are here. I'm here. You can rest now."
Quinn starts to shake her head, but Rachel stops her, holding the sides of her face.
"You're allowed to sleep," she says. "You did your duty."
Quinn closes her eyes, and Rachel's convinced she would fall asleep right there if she could.
It's a miracle she doesn't, and Rachel just about manages to get her upstairs and into her bed, tucking her in and sitting with her until she finally gives in to her own exhaustion.
It's Rachel's turn to be the protector.
The day, itself, is lazy.
Hiram and LeRoy stick around until after lunch, which they cook with Lex and Hugo, and Quinn remains hidden away until Lex goes to get her.
Nobody bothers to change out of their pyjamas, and they spend the day watching movies and playing board games. Rachel has to reject a few phone calls, people obviously having heard stories of what possibly happened in the nighttime.
Rachel knows they'll have to talk about it as a family at some point; maybe even see a trauma counsellor to deal with it properly, but today is a day for processing.
When her fathers leave, packing leftovers in the fridge for dinner and reminding her they're just a call away, Rachel sets Max down for his nap while Lex and Hugo tuck themselves away in Hugo's bedroom with Lex's comic books.
It gives her a moment alone with Quinn, who is seated on the couch in the living room, phone to her ear as she talks to Louisa. Rachel grabs her own phone from the mantle and moves to settle beside her; against her.
Quinn wraps an arm around her shoulders, saying, "No, you don't need to come here," into the phone. "We're staying with Randy, now. I'm not sure what's next, Blue. We'll figure it out." She sighs. "I know. I'll tell her, and yeah, I'll tell him. I'm trying. Say hi to the girls. Love you, too."
Quinn hangs up, leans back and says nothing. There's a quiet that exists between them, no words necessary, and Rachel is content to sit here for as long as Quinn needs her.
It's maybe twenty minutes later, when Rachel is in the middle of reading an email from one of the producers she routinely works with in New York when Quinn quietly says, "Lou suggested the gun."
Rachel freezes.
"She was so worried about Baby and I living alone, and she's been so determined to make sure I could look after myself in any situation. We worked on various defensive measures, and the gun range was a regular visit for us. She needed to be sure that my threat level outweighed my target level. Apparently, there's something about a single mother that makes me look as if I would be easy pickings." She clenches her jaw. "Tack on the fact I'm gay, anything can happen. So, I needed to be prepared, and I was."
Rachel watches her face carefully.
"I keep it locked away, obviously, out of reach, and I've never had a reason to use it." She looks down at her lap. "Any skirmishes were always easily resolved with a well-timed bark from Sasha." Her eyes tear up. "Lou pulled some strings to get her. Usually, they - they do other things with retired police dogs, but we had a home to offer and she needed one. She took to us really quickly, and I - I loved her, you know? She was a part of our family, and I can't - can't even stand the thought of what could have happened if she wasn't there."
That's also something Rachel hasn't allowed herself to think about too much. She looks at Quinn now, and her blonde is here and alive and physically unhurt. Sasha deserves the highest place in Dog Heaven for that.
"I had a gun, Rach," she whispers; "and even that wasn't enough of a weapon. I didn't even have time to draw it before it escalated to something ugly." She glances away. "They - they were just so angry, and I could tell they were drunk, but - but - all I kept thinking that there was me, and there was Sasha, and we were the only two keeping them from destroying our home and destroying our family. It's - it's as if she knew that; somehow, she just understood it. She understood that there was no way they were getting to you, and we would put our bodies on the line, if necessary, and so she did.
"She did, so I wouldn't have to."
Rachel hugs her tightly, burying her face in her neck and just breathing her in. There's so much that still needs to be cleared up, and she's sure they're going to have to speak to the police again, but she's content to keep her family locked away in this house until they're ready to face the world, once more.
Her phone buzzes again, but she ignores it in favour of attempting to crawl right into Quinn's skin. She feels Quinn's arm close around her, urging her closer, and she reads the action for what it is, as she lifts herself up and straddles Quinn's lap.
"I love you," Rachel murmurs, trailing her lips along Quinn's neck and over her jaw. "I don't know what you need to hear from me, to make you believe you did and have always done everything in your capabilities to keep us safe."
Quinn leans her head back, her eyes closing and her hands resting on Rachel's hips. The action gives Rachel even better access to her neck, and she doesn't waste a second leaning in and nipping at her skin. Quinn sighs helplessly, her body relaxing, practically sinking into the couch.
"I love you," Rachel says again. "The boys love you. Lou, Jane and Christine love you. My fathers barely know you, and I'm sure they love you more than they love me."
Quinn puffs out an amused breath, moaning softly when Rachel sucks on her pulse point. "Rach," she breathes, asking her for something.
Whatever it is, Rachel is going to give it to her.
Ignoring her phone proves to be a terrible idea when Santana, Brittany, Kurt, Blaine and their children all show up on her doorstep an hour later. She's just managed to get Quinn to agree to catch a nap, Lex and Hugo climbing into Rachel's California King with her, when the doorbell rings.
And rings and rings.
Rachel rushes to get it, Max stumbling around her ankles. She peeks through the side window and feels tense all over again. The absolute last thing she needs is an inquiry, but she knows they won't leave, and she really doesn't need them creating even more of a ruckus for her sleeping family.
With a sigh, Rachel opens the door.
"Oh, thank God," Santana says at the sight of her. "What the hell? Why haven't you been answering your phone? The whole town is going mental with rumours a plenty. We thought you were hurt."
Rachel says nothing, just stepping back and letting the foursome and mini-threesome into the house. She needs to close the door and lock it. For some reason, she suspects Quinn will be able to tell if a person can get into the house.
She hangs back, unsure how she feels about all of this, while they get settled in the living room.
Camila, Norah and Georgia descend on Max's toys, distracting themselves, and Max floats among them, mesmerised by their hair and laughter.
"What on earth happened last night?" Kurt asks, breaking into Rachel's thoughts. "Why would I be getting a call from Finn, asking me to bail him out of jail?"
Rachel hardens at the sound of his name, and she forces herself to sit in an actual chair, settling on the edge of one of the armchairs. "Did you?" she asks.
"Did I what?"
"Bail him out?"
Kurt frowns. "Of course I did," he says. "He's my brother."
Rachel shifts in her seat. "Do you even know why he was in jail?"
Kurt hesitates. "He said it was a misunderstanding," he says. "A prank gone wrong."
"A prank gone wrong," she echoes, feeling sick to her stomach.
"What happened?" Blaine asks.
"What have you heard?" she asks, instead of answering his question.
"We heard there was a break-in," Brittany says. "At Quinn's house. But, you were there?"
"Yeah, what's that about?" Santana asks, scowling. "What were you even doing over there?"
"I was sleeping," she answers flatly.
"Why?"
"That's usually what people do at night," she says.
Santana frowns. "Okay... but why were you sleeping over there?"
Rachel sighs. "The boys and I had a sleepover," she says, sighing heavily. "It seems that our supposed friends decided it was going to be the same night they break in and terrorise us."
"Oh," Kurt says. "That's what Finn meant when he said 'She wasn't supposed to be there.' He was talking about you."
Rachel frowns, her senses prickling. "Would that be the only reason his supposed prank would be wrong?"
"Of course not," Kurt says primly. "I'm just saying it makes his words make sense. I was confused before."
"Didn't he tell you anything else?" she asks, her tone icy. "I mean, I'm sure you've heard all the stories, right?"
Maybe it's the slight accusation in Rachel's voice - though, what she's accusing them of, nobody quite knows - but it all derails awfully quickly. There's an odd mocking quality to Santana's voice, as if she doesn't want to understand or quite grasp the magnitude of just what happened. It gets even worse when Kurt mentions that Finn said something about a stupid dog, and Rachel's hackles rise.
Though, it really hits its worst point when they ask Rachel to convince Quinn against pursuing action against Noah, Finn, Bruno, Jake and T, claiming that they were drunk and didn't know what they were doing, and Rachel finally loses it.
It's been slow coming, but this is the moment.
"Stop it," Rachel suddenly snaps, and the whole room freezes. "Stop talking about it as if it's some joke. Because it's not. It was terrifying, and someone died, for God's sake. It doesn't matter that the someone was a dog, because that damn bullet was meant for Quinn. Don't you get it? Don't you see?
"Noah - Noah - could have killed her. He came into a house with children in it with a loaded gun, and for what? A couple of hundred bucks? Because she knew to say no? Because she refused to bend to men's entitlement?" She closes her eyes to try to calm herself. "There is nothing you can say to me that could ever justify what those men did, and, if that's the reason you're still here, you can get the hell out of my house and away from my family."
Her words are met with silence, and none of them is quite able to recover quickly enough.
"Rachel?" a small voice calls, and Rachel's head snaps to the side to see Lex standing on the bottom step, rubbing his eyes of sleep and his hair a mess. He's just woken up, obviously, and she knows he seeks physical comfort when he does.
She waves a hand. "Come here, Baby Shark," she says, smiling when he scrambles across the wood floors with his bare feet and practically crawls into her lap. She wraps arms around him and kisses his hair, soothing him into full wakefulness.
When she looks up again, four pairs of wide eyes are staring at her. Well.
Lex snuggles against her, turning his head to look at the other four adults in the room. "Hello," he says, his tone careful and still a little sleepy.
Brittany blinks at him, recovering first. "Hello," she says, managing a smile. "You must be Quinn's son."
"Lex," he says. "My name is Lex."
Brittany nods, her smile a little more genuine. "Hello, Lex," she says. "I'm Brittany. This is my wife, Santana, and those are our daughters, Camila and Norah. That's Kurt, his husband Blaine, and their daughter, Georgia."
Lex turns his head, taking in the faces and committing the names to memory. "Are you also here to hurt Mommy?" he asks, and Rachel aches. God, the way she hurts so much in this moment.
None of the adults know what to say to him, and Rachel uses the opportunity to do what she's vowed to do: protect her family.
"I think it's time for you to leave," she says, her voice steady and stern, because this is something she can demand within her own home, with her own family.
To their credit - which, given the way the conversation was going, anyway, doesn't mean much - there isn't a fight. It's probably Lex's presence, his eyes searching, even as he holds onto Rachel.
Santana tells her, "We're not finished talking about this," on her way out, and Rachel can't help thinking yes, we are.
In the morning, Rachel makes the suggestion, not sure what to expect.
It's something she's been thinking about even before the break-in, and she feels a little more comfortable bringing it up now, knowing that Quinn is as in this as she is. This is a forever kind of relationship they're dealing with here, and Rachel is determined to keep them as on track as she can.
"Maybe we should get out of here for a little while," Rachel suggests over coffee the next morning. "Take a trip, just the five of us, to clear our heads and distract ourselves from all of this."
Quinn regards her carefully, searching for something. "Where did you have in mind?"
Rachel nibbles her bottom lip for a moment. "Well, I actually need to make a trip to New York before the end of the summer. I think it will be good for you and Lex to see Louisa and Jane, and New Haven isn't too far from the city."
Quinn's head tilts to the side slightly, her eyes studying her.
Rachel blinks. "What?"
"Nothing," Quinn says as she stands from her stool and moves into Rachel's space. "I just love you, is all."
Rachel's neck stretches to be able to keep her eyes locked on Quinn's.
"I also love the way you love me."
Rachel slides her hand along Quinn's stomach, quietly marvelling at the hard muscles she feels. Words seem unnecessary in this moment, so she just holds Quinn's gaze, silently translating her deep, deep feelings.
Quinn bends to kiss her forehead. "Okay."
"Okay?"
Quinn twirls a strand of Rachel's hair around her finger. "Okay," she repeats; "Let's go somewhere. Just you, me and our boys."
Rachel grips the front of her shirt and pulls her down for a kiss.
How else is she supposed to react to that?
Just when Rachel thinks she's got used to what it's like to be in a relationship with Quinn, the woman surprises her - again. Rachel expects to be the one to plan their trip alone - because she usually is - but Quinn comes back to her later in the evening with potential date suggestions and a certain spark in her eye at the thought of being able to surprise Louisa and Jane.
Beyond her own surprise, Rachel is quite chuffed with herself for helping put it there.
Quinn settles onto the couch beside her, the boys doing goodness knows what in Hugo's room upstairs and Max playing on his mat on the floor in front of them. She lifts her left arm to rest on the back of the couch, and Rachel automatically moves into the space, leaning against her. "I think this is the best idea you've ever had."
Rachel raises her eyebrows. "Oh?"
Quinn kisses her cheek. "Well, there is that thing you do with your tongue that is probably a close second."
Despite herself, Rachel actually blushes, gently slapping Quinn's abdomen and letting her hand rest there. "When are you thinking of going?"
"We can leave even tomorrow," Quinn suggests.
The idea is appealing, even though it's probably not realistic. Getting everything together in such a short time is slightly unfeasible at this moment. "We can leave on Thursday," she says. "Spend the weekend enjoying New York, and then I can do what work I need to do on Monday while you visit Louisa and Jane, and then maybe we can have them over at some point, and then we fly home on Thursday again, giving us enough time to get the boys ready for the start of school on Monday."
Quinn puffs out a breath. "I've actively not been thinking about that," she admits. "What am I supposed to do with my days when they're not around?"
Rachel kisses her cheek. "I'm quite certain you'll think of something," she says.
Quinn nuzzles her temple. "Have you decided if you're going to take the job?"
Rachel licks her lips. "I - yeah, I think I'm going to take it," she says, not sounding particularly convincing. "Is - is that okay?"
Quinn shifts back a little to look at her properly. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Rachel frowns, momentarily confused my Quinn's question. "Wouldn't you want a say?" she asks, because everyone does.
"Are you asking for my advice?" Quinn asks.
Rachel isn't, but she nods anyway.
"Is this what you want to do?" Quinn asks.
"I - I don't know," she admits. "It's what everyone thinks I should do."
"Forget about everyone else for a minute," Quinn says, waving a hand. "This is about what you want, and the question I'm asking is do you want to teach at William McKinley?"
When put that way, the answer is simple and Rachel says, "No."
Quinn nods. "Okay," she says. "What do you want to do?"
"I don't know."
"Of course you do," Quinn counters, her expression serious. "You know exactly what you want to do, so tell me. If you could do whatever you want, what would you do?"
"But, I can't."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Quinn says. "Tell me. Deep in your heart, what do you want to do?"
Rachel can't say it out loud, because she knows it's impossible. There's no way. It'll just hurt to put it into the Universe and not have it come true. She's given up so much already; she doesn't think -
"Rachel," Quinn says, her voice serious. "Tell me."
"I want Broadway," she blurts. "God, I want it so badly, Quinn. I want to be on stage. I want to perform every night. I want to be under the New York lights. And I know it's selfish to want it, and I know it's impossible, but I want it. I really, really want it."
Quinn doesn't say anything for a long, long time, and Rachel thinks she's said something wrong. It's unfair to want more, right? Brody always made her feel guilty for going to auditions, and her friends used to seesaw between trying to get her to go out with them and then making her question her decision to leave her kid behind.
Working at McKinley would be a stable job and income. She would be good at it and she would be doing good work. It's the simple solution here. What else could she possibly do in Lima?
"Okay," Quinn suddenly says, interrupting Rachel's thoughts.
"What?"
Quinn nods her head once. "Okay."
"Okay?"
Quinn cocks her head to the side. "We can do that."
"Excuse me?"
"We can go to New York," Quinn says. "It'll be a little rushed, of course. One of us would have to come back and sort things out here while the other gets things set up there, but we can do this."
Rachel's convinced she's dreaming, because there's no way Quinn is oh-so-casually agreeing to move to New York. With her, no less. There's no way. It's impossible.
"We'll need a place to live," Quinn continues. "A good school for the boys, a - "
"Quinn," Rachel says, her tone a little sharp.
Quinn stops talking.
"Please tell me you're not being serious."
She says nothing, because she obviously can't tell Rachel that.
"Quinn?"
"I'm being serious," she says instead, and her tone of voice definitely suggests it. "If this is truly something you want, then you should get to be able to have it."
"But - but, we can't just pick up and move to New York," she points out. "We can't."
"Why not?"
"Quinn, you forget that I've lived in New York," she says. "I've struggled through it, and, in the end I couldn't do it. I couldn't, so I came back here, tail between my legs. We can't."
"Things are different now," Quinn tells her.
"How?" she questions, because this woman has maybe lost her damn mind. "How are things so different now that it'll all just magically work this time around?"
"Simple," Quinn says. "This time, you have me."