Chapter 11:
Author's Note: Bah, so much for Faberry Week, the Sequel. I wrote this instead. It has some sleepover-esque parts in it so I guess it fits, but still. Oh well. This filled too much of my mind to let go.
First things first: welcome all newcomers. I'm glad to see so many new people reading this. Makes my body sing electric. Or some other weird literary reference/metaphor. Anyways, please enjoy this and I hope I can continue to keep you entertained.
I kinda like where this chapter goes. At least Quinn's eyes open up a little bit, and Faberry makes some deals between them to function a bit, or at least not go crazy when the other can't (Mostly Rachel over Quinn's actions, but Rachel is crazy, don't doubt that). I like the idea of more in the magical world, and how it is so much larger than Quinn can imagine. And I like that she is not this all knowing person who had the answers.
It was fun to write, and I swear, I'm trying to get away from the depressing stuff, it's just that my mood is reflected in my writing so that tells you something, right?
As always, I fail to possess the rights to Glee. If they were mine, I'd probably have ended it prior to puppets, but maybe not. At least do an Avenue Q song. Is that too much to ask?
Please read and review, I love hearing from you all. And I truly hope I'm answering questions or at least leaving you with the understanding that there will be answers.
Thanks again for reading,
SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)
!-!-!-!-!-!
Nov 28th
At some point during the night, Quinn had gotten up and dressed. She returned to Rachel, wrapping her tightly and curling into her, even closer if that was possible. They were facing each other when she fell asleep. The only reason why she even knew any of this was that some asshole had turned on the light at an ungodly hour.
Brightness filled her world, even muffled by her closed eye lids, and Rachel tried to pull Quinn completely over her to block it out. But it wasn't worth it; she was awake. While her girlfriend had the tendency to be catlike and constantly wanted naps and sleep in, and Rachel felt that she should barely have any because she need to get so much work done, their roles had reversed this week. Quinn was so on edge and barely slept any, and Rachel couldn't get enough. Though it still took a decent amount of effort and time to wake her up. Quinn slept hard and heavy, never moving or shifting in the bed. Rachel could find no time between sleep and consciousness, and it was rather annoying, given how easily she woke herself for being too cold.
The biggest issue on her mind was finding some way to tell Quinn that Jesse was back. She knew that her girlfriend would be afraid of losing her to the super-senior, but it was a baseless fear. Quinn had made a comment about Rachel being so cold all the time, and for the moment, she had been able to pass it off as being busy and overworked, which prompted a brief request/command that she slow it down a bit. But, now with them on a small vacation of sorts, there was no need for it, and it was showing.
Stupid circulation reflecting her mood. Rachel hated being so expressive.
"Star, Quinn's apparently decided it was a good idea to run away, and we need to go search for her, the ungrateful child," Grandma said, throwing the door open and flicking the light on. Rachel pushed her barely aware girlfriend off of her and sat up. Quinn grabbed her waist and pulled her tighter to her, hiding her face behind her back.
"What time is it?" Rachel asked. She reached down and scratched the back of Quinn's neck. Grandma paid no attention to her, rushing over to her luggage and began to dig around her cloths.
"A bit past one," she replied. "Your grandfather is demanding that we-" She stood up and stared at Rachel, her eyes slowly looking down at the body lying next to her.
"She came back already."
"That girl had your grandfather, your parents, freaking out. How can you be so accepting about this? She left you and-"
"She came back," Rachel said.
"I still don't know what you see in her, she's clearly caused nothing but strife in the family and-"
"She is here," Quinn muttered into her back, but it was loud enough to stop whatever rant Grandma was on. Rachel wiggled against the warm breathe on her back just above her ass. "And she appreciates not being talked about when she is in the room. She would prefer if you did not talk ill of her at all, but after yesterday, well two days ago, she knows that is not an option." Quinn sat up slowly, her medium length hair a mess and hanging in her face. Rachel pulled her close, trying to keep her a bit behind her, but this was not Quinn any more, at least not her Quinn; the girl next to her was no longer heart-broken and hurt by the words and actions from Thanksgiving. The HBIC had arrived and would make sure that they knew their words would never receive a reaction from her again. That she would never show how much they hurt her again. Rachel hated this girl. But it was one of Quinn's responses that she needed to function and deal with everything that failed to live up to her simple expectations. Everything hurt her.
"What the hell do you have to say for yourself?" Grandma yelled. "Running out like that, leaving everyone to worry sick about you. How dare you be so selfish that you leave Rachel like that, especially when we were so kind to let you."
"No one even noticed," Rachel said, her words barely leaving her mouth. Quinn just stared back, no expression, no movement. Just cold eyes. Her girlfriend had locked away her emotions, because once again, they had hurt her so much. Indifference had returned.
"We welcomed you into our home, fed you our food, and you run away, discarding our kindness that my husband I had given to you with a childish tantrum all because of-"
"She was never welcomed," Rachel said a bit louder. This time, Grandma stopped speaking, her eyes turning to her.
They didn't speak. Instead, the room was silent, just looking at each other: her grandma surprised that Rachel actually spoke back, eyes opened and jaw slightly open; Rachel looked with determination to protect the girl who had treated the worst and best she had to experience, the one who choose her and wanted her for who she was, without any desire to change her; and Quinn just stared, still in a way that unnatural.
"Kathy?" Poppa said, his voice carrying down the stairs. Footsteps trampled down, many of them, and a bark from Stark followed. "You get Rachel up yet? Quinn's not back yet, and we're gonna need everyone we can to find her and-"
He stepped into the room and stopped moving when he saw the pair on the bed. Poppa was wearing his winter coat, thick gloves and a silly looking faux-fur hat covered his ears. "Quinn?"
Quinn said nothing. She kept her gaze on Grandma. Rachel shifted a bit uncomfortable under all the attention, which she normally loved. Just not the silent variety from her end. At least if she was preforming, then she had a purpose. Now, she didn't know what to do.
"You're okay? When did you get back? We were worried sick and-"
"No," Rachel said. "Maybe you were. Maybe you, Dad, and Daddy, but honestly, I think you were all more worried about me and my response to Quinn's disappearance. Grandma didn't even notice until you told her, until Daddy brought her up, and even then she said nothing."
"Star, that's not entirely fair," Poppa replied. "We all were-" But paused in his words, the lie fizzling out. He looked away from Rachel and over her shoulder, to where the current Quinn statue was. "I'm just glad you are okay."
Quinn shrugged. She wasn't okay, Rachel knew that. But it would be for all appearances that she was. "I will be out of your hair, as I was yesterday, until Misters Berry want to leave."
Mister? When did Quinn start referring to her parents as mister? When had her girlfriend started to revert, at least in front of others, into the girl she was at the beginning of the summer. This was not right. "Why would you do that?" Rachel asked. "Why would you leave again?" But she knew the answer already. Quinn felt that she was hurting Rachel's relationship with her family. Quinn felt that she was hurting her. Again.
"Quinn, no that's not what we want," Poppa said. "Rachel invited you here and we accepted because know it's important for her."
"If you are trying to guilt me, please do not. Rachel will do a good enough job tomorrow, when we go home," Quinn replied.
"You are acting like a child," Grandma said, nearly spitting the words out. "You are playing the victim and wanting us to pity you, yet you're the one who isolated my granddaughter, hurt her for how many years? Five, six? Middle and high school. Systematic targeting of her and trying to break her."
"No one feels as horrible as I do about that, Mrs. Berry." Rachel reached around Quinn and pulled her close, pressing her flat against her body. She was tense, every muscle steel underneath her touch. "Nothing you can say, or do even, can erase the knowledge that I have hurt the one person who…" She trailed off, and she felt a tremor pass through her, short and weak, small enough that Rachel only was aware of it because she felt it against herself. "As right as you are, as much of a reason you have to hate me, I accept that now. I do not have to be an unwanted burden."
Rachel wanted to speak up, wanted to say something. She hated that she had divided her family over Quinn that they were arguing and fighting really, even if it was limited and often passive-aggressive. It was her fault. This was not what she wanted Thanksgiving to be about.
"Kath, dear, let's just go to bed and we can talk about-" Poppa walked forward and tried to take his wife's arm, but she shouldn't allow him. She shrugged him off and took a step towards Quinn.
"It was supposed to be nice, simple, fun holiday. Like all the others. We were all supposed to get together and enjoy our time together without anything else worrying us. Same thing as every year. Then Rachel wanted to bring you along. I was unsure at first, mainly because of how you treated her, but I was okay with that because Hiram seemed so excited by it, because Rachel was so excited by it. It was fine, because I would have my family here and nothing really was going to change. I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt. I wanted to like to you. Then I met you, and you were everything I thought you'd be. Arrogant, rude, demanding, shallow, fake. Nothing about you is real. Nothing about you is substance. You just are a rude little girl who is demanding attention through dressing like a whore-"
"Grandma!" "Katherine!"
"To control my granddaughter with sanguine false words, with caresses that distract her from everything else but what matters to you. You have manipulated and altered her to fit your needs, your desires, your wants. Because the only person who matters in your small, insignificant world, is you. Because in your eyes, all that is important is you. Damn everyone else."
No one moved for a second, and Rachel felt that while Quinn was hurt by the words, it wasn't really anything new, nothing had really changed. It was just an expression of what they both knew she thought. This was something that she would have to do some damage control on, reassure Rachel that none of it was true and that she loved, yes loved, Quinn, and they were past all of that. That if anything, Rachel was controlling her. But Grandma had to speak some more. "I wasn't surprised when I met you that you weren't with your family. Holidays are meant for that time, and when Hiram said that you were so excited about coming, I wondered why someone wouldn't want to be with them. But that became clear the moment I saw you. I saw what they must see every day with you. No wonder you were here, they had grown tired of your whining and spoiled princess mentality. Grown tired of your falsehoods and general hatred you hold in your heart. They must have hated how controlling you were. They must be so damn happy that you weren't with them. Must have made their holiday. Your father must be so proud of you."
Quinn stood up and walked out of the room.
Grandma turned and stomped away, heading to bed presumably.
Rachel didn't even realize that she had left until she heard the dogs bark and a door slam. She struggled to get out of the bed, the comforter tangling up her feet, and fell at the foot of the bed. She pushed past Poppa, ran out the door, and scrambled up the stairs. Banner and Stark were at the backdoor, barking madly. Her dads ran in from their hide-a-bed in the living room, throwing their coats on over their pajamas, well her Dad was. Daddy hadn't changed yet. Uncle Jim and his wife had joined them, looking confused and a bit frightened. She heard feet shuffling upstairs. "What happened, Star?" Dad asked. He took a tentative step towards her. She looked back and forth between her dad and the door. Was there anything she could actually do now? Would Quinn even come back after that?
Rachel tried to hold herself up, though she didn't know why she needed to. The window on the door grew lower and lower, and her arms refused to allow her to see what she already knew was outside: nothing. No stars, or clouds, or anything existed outside. Quinn would rather have that then be with her family, though Rachel wasn't feeling that generous with the term at the moment.
At some point, Banner came up and liked the first tears off of her face, and then she broke down, hugging the large animal, and wishing that it was Quinn in her arms.
!-!-!-!-!
Quinn had not ran far this time. In fact, she had gotten as far as the Berry's car before sitting down on the frozen hood. Ten minutes after she left, she heard the screaming of her name and the footsteps as the household spread out looking for her. Orders for her to come back and words of sympathy and concern were shouted, but the latter were nothing more than token, she knew that. It was always that way.
It would be so easy for her to transform and run, just keep running. No one would find her, no one would be able hurt her again. People were nothing but pain. Every time she got close, or wanted to get close, or even just wanted to feel something other than anger or apathy, it ended the same way. With Puck, she wanted to feel special, and he had promised, and it failed miserably. With Finn, she wanted to feel beautiful and loved, and all she got was being pushed aside and discarded. With Sam, she wanted to feel normalcy, everything going back to the non-crazy times in her life, but that ended just as quickly as it had started.
Mrs. Berry was right: her family hated her. They did not want her. Her father kicked her out because he hated the thought that his daughter would never be what he wanted her to be, that she could never be that perfect, Christian daughter he desired. Her mother discarded her because it was too much work to actually care for a child. And Frannie left her when her father became too much of an asshole, and she tried to force herself into the mold he wanted so badly for her to fit, to become the perfect daughter that Frannie was. Quinn tried so hard to take her place, to be Frannie but better, and it never worked out. It never was right. She never could be what they wanted her to be, no matter what she did. She was never what they wanted in the first place.
Quinn pulled her knees up, close to body. Mrs. Berry was right. She was shallow and callous and demanding and cruel and horrible and did not deserve to live. Every one that she listed off came out of the mouth of the woman, and every one just danced in her head, repeating over and over again. She wanted to rock back and forth, but what good would it do? She would still be those things. Quinn tried so hard to change over the past summer, but for a stranger to see those things, to see her with none of her defenses up and masks on, squeezed her heart and threatened to break her in a way that Rachel could have only done so.
"Quinn?" Mr. Berry walked towards her. She looked up at him through her fallen bangs. The black man was illuminated by the light of the house. People were still shouting she guessed. When did he arrive, and where did he come from? "I'd ask if you were okay, but that seems like a stupid question." He smiled at her. She hid her face back in her knees.
Go away, she wanted to say. Mrs. Berry was right. Quinn was just a horrible, unwanted girl, hell not even that, a thing that did not deserve this attention. Just leave her alone, she wanted to say.
"I have someone on the phone for you," he continued. Who would even want to speak to her? He held out a device and walked tentatively towards her. "Rachel called her about half hour ago, and it took that long for her to calm down enough to even speak. That was once she was able to do anything but cry and let me hold her."
Quinn said nothing.
"Sweetie," she was not his sweetie, "It's almost four. You've been out here too long. If you want to talk we can-"
"You will not have to worry about me, Mr. Berry," Quinn said. "I will be out of your hair soon."
Mr. Berry stopped walking, his arm falling to his side. "Quinn, no, what…what about Rachel?"
"I would just hurt her," she replied. "She does not need me in her life."
He said nothing.
"Please, just leave me alone." Quinn swallowed and pulled her legs closer. It was feeling cold now, finally. The wind chill biting through her body. "Tell Rachel I am sorry for everything that has happened. For how much I have hurt her and her family." She would find someplace, away from everyone, where they could not be hurt by her carelessness and anger and stupidity. Santana never would have been forcibly outed if Quinn had not been dating Rachel at the time. Brittany would have been happier had Quinn not stopped her from befriending Rachel. How many people would have never been bullied if she was not around? And Rachel, God, Rachel would have had friends and people who loved her more than just her family and-
"Quinn," Mr. Berry said. "I really think you should take this call." He was standing closer to her, a jacket in one hand and cellphone in the other. But he was out of her reach, as though she would run if he stepped any nearer. "It's Brittany." He held the phone out for her, though she would have to reach for it.
Brittany, sweet Brittany. Why would she wanted to talk to her? All Quinn had done was caused her pain. If she had been a better friend, then maybe both of them would not have been so scared to come out. She forced her into this horrible role of brainlessness and density, the stereotypical blonde, all because Quinn could not function normally. But Brittany deserved her to at least say goodbye, even if it was over the phone.
Quinn took the phone from his hand, and Mr. Berry looked down at his empty palm. She should not have moved that quickly, but it did not matter. It would not once she left. Mr. Berry stepped back, though stared at her the entire time.
"Hey?" she said, her words cracking.
"Hey, Lucy," Brittany said. Quinn's breath caught in her throat and she swallowed away a cry. "Rach called me."
"I figured."
"You outside?" Quinn nodded. "Alone?" She shook her head. Brittany didn't need to hear words, not when she was on the phone. Quinn swore that the girl saw everything she did, and it was freaky when she did a party trick with her on the phone and describing her every movement and what she was wearing.
"Well then, I need you to listen, and listen well. Can't have you running away from Rachel, not as long as you've been running towards her finally." Brittany sighed into the phone. "Rach's grandma brought up your dad, didn't she? Brought up that you should be home for the holidays, not with some stranger's family, even though you and Rach are totally married, just not legally, you know, but spiritually, yeah, you know it, so she's not a stranger to you. Neither are Leroy and H. But you wouldn't have run if it was just that. You can handle just about anything. But all together anything? That's tough right?" Quinn nodded.
"So it was more than being called out on that you're not with your family, who does love you, because Juds is a better mom when she's sober and I know Frannie is probably missing you and-"
"I do not want to talk about Frannie," Quinn said.
"Hush," Brittany replied. Quinn leaned into her knees again, trying to bury her face in them "I'm speaking and you're listening. Listening doesn't require you speaking. Now, your biological family loves you for the most part, we're ignoring your dad because he sucks and doesn't even deserve that title, but whatever. Your mom and Frannie are decent and they are trying. They've just made some mistakes and got lost along the way, and that happens. But your Family, Lucy, your real family, isn't from blood or anything as disgusting like that. You choose your family. You pick the people who will stand by you through everything, no matter what, and they pick you. That family, those people, we will always be with you. People will come and go from your life, and I know it sucks, but us? Sannie, Rach, Puck, and yes, him, don't deny that he's just another little annoying brother you never wanted and just forces his way into your life, and me, we're with you. We're with you through everything. You don't have to be alone.
"But this isn't about that, or at least not all of it and we'll come back to why we're the most awesome family in the world and you should totes listen to us on this topic, but the whole issue you have with your family and stuff, you know this and believe it, even if only a little bit. The reference to your dad was nothing more than a spark that ignited everything, I bet." Brittany went silent and Quinn swayed a bit in the window. The house was quiet now, but Hiram stayed out with her. He hadn't moved from his spot.
"This started with Mrs. Berry questioning your commitment to Rach, right? She questioned the Faberry, didn't she? She wondered just what you were doing and your hold over Rachel and if, I bet she sounded so certain when she said it, you were playing her. As if all that you've done and changed in the past year meant nothing. Your past year where you struggled and fought and tried so hard to come back to us. Lucy, I mean, not Quinn. I've always liked Lucy more. You tried to come back and we were just starting to see her again, though she's extremely shy from being hidden for so long. Rach is bringing you back, and now, someone is questioning your love, and don't give me that look, because it is your love, even if you haven't told her yet, towards her, your commitment and reasons for being with her. Mrs. Berry brought down the judgment and you accepted it all. Because you haven't forgiven yourself yet for everything you did to Rachel."
"I do not think I can."
"And that's fine, Lucy," Brittany said. She could hear the smile on her face. "You will one day, but at your own pace and with us accepting you for who you really are with you the entire way. But the important thing is that you're with Rachel now, and it's not out of guilt. You've always cared about her, and wanted to see her be happy, but happy was a word you didn't know, not after Frannie left. That word left your vocab and so you had to deal with the words you did know: anger, frustration, impatience, arrogance, indifference. You knew these, and that was your world. Sannie and I helped out, but Rachel gave you the rest of the dictionary back. She has forgiven you, completely, and I know you don't question it. So don't question her decisions to stay with you, to be with you, to love you."
"Cause you and the Hobbs are totally in love and gonna-"
"Santana!" Brittany shouted. "I told you to be quiet." Oh Lord, they must be on speaker phone and the Latina was listening in. She would never hear the end of it, being sad and moppy. Not that Santana would make fun of her actively because of her emotions, but she would ride her hard concerning how she's handling them. Which was a bit hypocritical, but Quinn was not in the mood for that type of argument.
"Sorry." Santana really wasn't.
"We'll talk about your punishment when I am off the phone, but for now, I'm gagging you and-"
"Brittany," Quinn said. "Not that I do not appreciate this and everything but if you need to take care of something and step back, I can-"
"You hush, or I'll make Rachel gag you as well. And stop packing, Sannie, we're not going."
"But we can be there in twenty minutes," Santana shouted. Quinn winced, she could almost feel the Brittany-glare. It didn't come out often, but it was also frightening.
"San, we are six hours away," Quinn said.
"Only six, scratch that make it ten miunutunus."
"I said you were to be gag, so unpack right this minute and then kneel in the corner. I'll deal with you, missy, in a moment." Quinn did not want to know how that would be even possible, and Brittany was stopping her from hearing the rest, which she should have been thankful for.
"Brittany, I really do not want to hear about you and Santana's discipline problems right now," Quinn replied. She swore the two had just to out kink each other and it was rather annoying how open they could be about. How comfortable they were about their sexuality. She had no issues in expressing her love for Rachel in public, but those two had no shame.
"Well, too bad, you're the one who ran out in the cold, wearing next to nothing and sat there on a car hood where your ass is probably frozen to it. And don't start with me or I'll make sure Rachel gets more than just some cuffs and a paddle for Christmukkah, clear?"
"Fine."
"Now, Is H still there, waiting for you?" Quinn looked up from her knees and saw Mr. Berry smiling at her. He had an extremely thick jacket on, ear muffs, a hat, wool mittens and a scarf in various bright color. "While the cold may feel like nothing to you, the rest of us are stuck with suffering with it. I'm sure Rachel is wanting to feel better about the whole Jesse thing and you not being there is not helping the situation."
She sat up straight. "What about St. James?"
"Good, give into the anger, Padawan," Brittany said. "Give into your hate. Let the Dark Side flow through you."
"We should have never let you watch those movies."
"That was six years ago, and besides, you're the one who begged us to watch them because your father said they were the devil."
"That is a Happy Gilmore quote, and he said they were filled with sin and promoted the devils work," Quinn said, sighing. "Brittany, I appreciate-"
"Lucy," Brittany said. "You can't keep running away from things that are important in your life. Sometimes, people are assholes, often without meaning it. And quiet Sannie, I can swear, you do it all the time."
Quinn lied her head down on her knees again. "It is just-"
"Do you love Rachel?" She asked.
"Yes," Quinn said. She wanted to hesitate, she wanted to say that they were too early in the relationship, to young, to unsure of everything to make such a statement. That she was too unsure of herself. But part of accepting her tiger meant that Quinn accepted more about her than she had really wanted to. The good and the bad.
While she could handle a great deal of things, they were all superficial and inconsequential. Brittany was right, as was normally the case. Quinn struggled with emotional overload, good and bad. She struggled with her anger, even with Santana taking the expressive portion for her, that cold, deep rage sitting somewhere dark within her, the tiger waiting and stalking in the jungle. She struggled with happiness, the idea that it will end one day, sooner than she is ready, and end in such a way that it is complete and fully. Brittany smiled for her, laughed for her, when she could not do it. She hated herself, and so many things about her, that her friends could barely give her a complement these days, mainly because she would never believe them. Quinn accepted these things, if only to function with her tiger-self, so that there was no difference between them.
Her tiger-self needed Rachel, just as it needed open space and bacon and sleep and bacon and quiet and bacon. These things were very important to it, and bleed over enough that Quinn really did not need much else. There was a unique hierarchy of needs in her mind, but she had accepted it. There was nothing she could do about it, unlike everything else in her mind.
"Still with me, Lucy?" Brittany asked.
"Yes, I," She looked over at Mr. Berry, "Do you think I should go back inside?"
"It's four am and you're sitting on a car with your sweats frozen to the hood, and your nipples are possibly poking through that flimsy tank top of yours. Yes, you should go inside. Just because you are an Ice Queen Tigress does not mean the cold doesn't affect you." Quinn nodded. "I'm glad you listen to reason. Someone has to keep you inline when your crazy gets out of control."
She wanted to laugh, but the thought died in her throat. "It's okay, you know that I'm completely crazy as well, so I've got that going for me."
"We need to monitor what you watch, Bri," Quinn said. She sighed and sat up straighter, staring out into the darkness. It would be a couple of hours until sunrise, and part of her wanted to stay out.
"Never going to happen," she replied. "Not even Sannie can stop what I watch, though she regrets showing me a few porn sites, did you know that-"
"I am headed inside, Brittany," Quinn said. She stretched her legs out, her bones creaking, pins and needles trailing up and down them as she tried to work them once again. She exhaled heavily and looked over at Mr. Berry. "Thank you Brittany."
"For what?" She did not have to say any more, her best friend understood what she could not say for herself and would never need to.
"Goodbye, and go easy on Santana, she was just worried."
"Oh, I'll let her sleep afterwards, don't worry about it. She needs her rest because we're watching my cousins. And stop that, you're supposed to be staring at the wall."
"Night, Brittany." She really did not need to hear any more of what they had planned.
"Morning Quinn. Things will get better I promise." A dial tone filled her ear and Quinn closed the phone.
"Mr. Berry?" she asked.
"Yeah?"
"You would not happen to have a second coat or something, because I think-"
"Here you go." He held out a thick winter coat, too large for her frame by a few sizes. Probably Mr. Berry's. "I figured you'd need it."
"Thank you." Quinn took it and stood up as quickly as she could, her sweat pants stretch and only tearing in a few spots. In a single motion, she swung the coat on, covering herself up, and stepped towards Mr. Berry. "We can go back."
"Good, I was worried that we were going to have to stay out here for a couple of hours."
"You were going to stay with me?"
"Of course," Mr. Berry said. "Even if you need space, you should never have to be alone. Especially out here." Quinn looked down and nodded at him. At her house, previously when she ran and disappeared, her father would simply ignore her and let her be, as though she was not worthy of his attention, mainly because she was not at those moments. She did not deserve his care, failing some little test that he had given her, often without her knowledge. Being alone was something she was used to. Being lonely was something she was used to.
They walked back in, Mr. Berry staying a couple feet to the side of her, but continuously would look over at her, making sure that she was still with him probably. The lights on the first floor were on, and she heard movement within it, voices kept low enough that she could not make any specific one out. MR. Berry stepped forward and opened the door, watching as Quinn walked in, her head down and measuring her steps.
Through the threshold, she found her arms filled with the form of Rachel Berry, pushing her coat open enough that she could wrap herself as close as possible, as tight as possible. She felt the tears drip onto her shirt and her girlfriend tremble in her arms. "I am sorry," Quinn said. Mr. Berry disappeared, and for once she was thankful that she was alone with Rachel. Alone again in the house.
"You are a wonderful and beautiful and kind and sweet and honest and beautiful and-"
"Okay," Quinn said. She lowered her head to Rachel's, inhaling her scent and trying to ignore the how the salty tears filled her along with berries, ink, and bacon? "Why do I smell bacon on you?"
"Those poor piggies," she muttered into her chest.
"Rachel here thought that the smell would draw you back," a lithe and gorgeous black woman stepped out the living into the foyer. Saunter would be better, but that did not seem appropriate given she was holding Rachel in her arms. "Demanded to do it herself, despite constantly complaining about the cruelty to animals and how we tortured them and on and on and on."
"The things I do for you, kitty," Rachel said into her chest. She pulled away, eyes red and puffy, but a smile filled her. "You better not try something like this again, because if I have to touch another-"
"I cannot promise that, Rae," Quinn said. "It is, sweetie, I." She stilled herself and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She would run. She always did. It was the only way she could handle some of what she felt. The previous night, she ran away because of the idea that she was hurting Rachel by being around, that she hurt Rachel, but stayed because she could not find the worlds to tell Rachel why she did not want to back. The story would have had to suffice. "I can promise that I can always come back."
Quinn opened her eyes to find Rachel partly pouting at her, partly glaring at her. It was a unique combination and completely her. "Fine. I will accept your terms."
"But?" There was always a "but" with Rachel. The girl had to have the last word. Quinn was more than happy to give it to her. She couldn't give much other than devotion and love, but it would have to be enough. There would be times that she ran because she could not handle things, but maybe one day, those would lessen, maybe one day, she could feel comfortable enough not to take off when everything gets too much. For the present, she would just be content with the thought that Rachel would remain with her. Even if it would end. She hoped it would not and would do whatever it took to prevent it.
"But you owe me a favor to be paid at a later date."
"No saddles and then I agree." Rachel's eyebrows shot up. The woman snorted and her girlfriend spun in her arms.
"I so do not need to hear about my niece and her girlfriend's sexual escapades." Rachel blushed a bright red and turned back into Quinn's almost bare chest. "Sorry we didn't get to meet early." The woman stepped forward and offered a hand. "I'm Rachel's Aunt Brianna Lafitte, Hiram's sister. My husband would be here, but our five month old needed a feeding and diaper change."
"Serafine is so adorable," Rachel said. She stepped away, sliding her hand down her side and then jumped to take her hand. "You'll love her."
Quinn nodded. Babies and her were an odd subject, and while she would have rather not gotten into with Rachel, the enthusiasm was nice to see again, and she owed her for running away. Twice.
"C'mon. Leroy is probably finishing up with the hot chocolate and coffee. We're all up, so might as well show you the little girl."
"Sorry," Quinn said.
"For what?" Mrs. Lafitte said. "Ma can be a pain sometimes and tends to speak without thinking." She nodded and let Rachel drag her after the older woman into the living room.
There was a hide-a-bed out in it previously where Misters Berry were sleeping, but it had been put away, the tables and furniture rearranged and all their luggage out next to the couch, packed away. The two recliners and love seat were pushed to the side. Mrs. Berry had no trouble moving them all back into their regular positions.
Rachel continued to lead/pull her into the room and pushed her down onto the loveseat where she climbed in on top of her, pinning her down to the seat. She glared at Quinn when she tried to argue, most like opened her mouth, and the tigress sank a bit further into the seat. Mrs. Lafitte just smiled at them. "What?" Rachel asked.
"She is so whipped," she replied.
"She is in trouble for running a second time and not telling me what she was doing," Rachel said, keeping her glare on Quinn.
"Sorry," Quinn said. She was not really, but the words tend to help things. They did not this time, as the glare intensified.
"Try sorry dear," Mrs. Lafitte said.
"Does it help?"
"It doesn't when I try it," a voice boomed from up the stairs in a thick Cajun accent. Quinn looked over her shoulder to see a large, well-built man with the darkest skin tone she had ever seen. His hair was a rich white, and there was a smile plastered on his face. In his arms was an adorable baby wrapped in a pink blanket. "But it's the thought that counts, I think."
"Don't you dare." Rachel frowned at her, and pushed on her shoulder.
"Yes, dear," Quinn replied with a smile. Rachel huffed and crossed her arms, stomping her foot as she looked away.
"That's the spirit," the man said, he sat down next to Mrs. Lafitte and passed her the baby. "You must be Quinn, then?"
She nodded, but did not make eye contact.
"Rachel told us a lot about you," he continued. "I'm Remy. Pleasure to meet you. She didn't say-" Mrs. Lafitte coughed and frowned briefly at her husband, then nodded back at Rachel. "Well, it is good to see that no harm came to you."
"I figure the caffeine will do us all some good," Mr. Berry said, walking in with a tray in his hands. Mr. Berry followed, holding a small container of milk and sugar in one hand, a steaming cup in the other. "Though you missy, don't need any more."
"Everyone is glaring at me this morning," Quinn said, looking away.
"Well, you did run into the cold," Mr. Berry held out the cup, and Quinn fought her smile at the scent of cinnamon, sugar and warm cream. She grabbed it and held it tight. Her hands hurt as the warm bleed into her. "So we are allowed to give you a hard time. Star, you all packed?"
"Yep, everything is set."
"Huh?" Quinn asked, looking up from the cup.
"We're leaving as soon as you're warmed up." Rachel said. She shifted the coat off of one of her arms and leaned into her side a bit more, wrapping it around both of them.
"Why?"
"Because as much as I love Ma, she does not say that to a guest," Mr. Berry replied. "No matter how upset she is. She doesn't have the right in any way, shape, or form." She looked back down at the cup, shuffling in her seat, the fabric rubbing against her skin she exposed. No one really stood up for besides Santana or Rachel, at least, not in such a grand way. Brittany tended to use more subtle means, though she shuddered at the thought of the last time she did so. The kid nearly transferred out from what she heard. "And Rachel didn't want to be here where you were clearly not welcomed. Stomped her foot and everything."
"You matter, Quinn," Rachel said, rubbing the side of her head against her. "More than you can imagine. I'm not giving you up that easily."
"But," Quinn tried to say, but Mr. Berry shook his head.
"Quinn, no one ever, no matter what they have done or how they have acted, deserves to be treated that way. To be forced out of a house because they cannot bear to stay in the same place." It was a dig at her, but she accepted it. She had treated Rachel in a similar manner. Mr. Berry sat on the arm next to his daughter. "I called your mother, to let her know we were coming. And she said that-"
"What? No, you did not need, you should have done that. She is with Frannie and happy," Quinn replied, "Really, I am okay, and-"
"Quinn, you ran into below zero weather to get away from Ma," Mrs. Lafitte said. "That is not okay."
"Really, I am fine, see, look," Her hands had some color back, though they were still extremely pale. Her finger tips hurt but she moved them without any real issue. She was okay, the cold really did not affect her.
Rachel turned slightly and looked up at her. "Quinn, look at me." She shook her head and continued to stare at her hands. "It's okay. Your mom wasn't upset. She was worried and scared, but she wasn't angry."
Quinn shook her head again. Her mother would demand to know why, make her talk, and they were barely speaking again. She did not have the words to explain this, to prevent her from feeling the guilt of why she felt like she did. "Quinn, you did nothing wrong." Mr. Berry reached over his daughter and touched her shoulder. She flinched away.
"I should not have done that," Quinn said, trying to stand up. "I should not have run away, I could have stayed in the background and just listened, really, I caused too much problems and now-"
Rachel spun in her lap, straddled her and took her face in her hands. The jacket fell from her shoulders, pooling around her waist, but she was pretty well covered by Rachel now. At least her nipples were not points any more. Bits of her probably showed where her sweats were ripped, but for the moment, Rachel was there to protect her. "Kitty, listen to me. You did nothing, absolute nothing wrong. Grandma was wrong. You did nothing wrong." She should have just taken it like she did with her father, wait until she was alone where she could just sit in a corner and try to ignore the words. Quinn could have handled it. Her mother did not need to be called. Really, it was not that big of deal and-
Lips covered hers softly, before pulling away and touching her nose, her brow and her forehead. Rachel wiped away a tear that slid down her face. "You did nothing wrong."
She leaned forward, and Rachel lifted her head, allowing her to curl into her. The room was quiet for a moment before Mrs. Lafitte started a side conversation with Mr. Berry. Mr. Berry stepped away and took a seat on the couch away from them, though he moved slowly, hesitantly. No one spoke to Rachel or her. Rachel did not speak either. She just held Quinn in place, letting her take her time and run away in a group of people, in her own, unique way. She sat there, waiting and staying close but never pushing, letting her come back when she was ready.
Quinn pulled away, lifted Rachel out of her lap and to her side, though she did not move from the seat. She ignored the tear streaks on her face while looking at the five-month old. She had seen Beth, not really, in about two years, and every time she saw a baby, every time she was near one, she had to fight down the pang of loss. She did not regret giving her up, but wanted to have her child back. It had lessen over the years, but she did not think it would ever go away. "Can I, Mrs. Lafitte, Mr. Lafitte is it alright if I can," Quinn tried to ask.
"Only if you call me Remy," Mr. Lafitte said with a laugh.
"And me Brianna or Bri," his wife added.
"Remy, Brianna, may I please hold Sarah fine?"
"Serafine, and of course," he replied, standing up. He offered the child with no hesitation to a smiling Quinn. She felt it, how wide and large her smile was. Rachel leaned into her side as she received Serafine, holding her carefully and supporting her head in the crock of her elbow.
"She's beautiful, Auntie Bri," Rachel said. She reached out and touched her face softly, dragging a finger down her cheek. Serafine moved into her, leaning against her warmth, much like her girlfriend. She yawned in her arms, and Quinn felt the wetness in her eyes. Beth was so pretty, so similar, though the hair, skin, eyes, everything was different. The adults talked for a while, though Rachel kept her attention split between her and Serafine. Quinn rocked her slowly back and forth, humming a tune she remembered from a long time ago, one that she used to sing herself to sleep when her father had sent her to bed early in the evening, demanding that she be quiet and let him have his peace, even when she was quiet and leaving him alone to drink.
"You're good with her," Rachel whispered. Quinn shrugged, but kept on rocking her. "Can we talk in the car?"
"About what?"
"About our future together." Quinn swallowed and looked up to Rachel, seeing only a smile on her face, large and warm and filled with want and desire. There was no lust, at least for the moment. She leaned into her and rested her head on hers.
"Of course," Quinn replied. "Whatever you would like."
"Damn straight." Rachel kissed her bare shoulder and returned her attention back to Serafine. "And don't you forget it." The babe yawned again, stretching in her little confinement before leaning into Quinn, turning into her chest and nuzzled her. The pang shot through her heart, but she could only smile down at the child.
"Looks like she's ready to pass out again," Remy sighed. "I was hoping we could keep her awake until we left, but maybe in couple of more hours of sleep will do us all good." Quinn looked up, her mouth dropping open just a little. Really, was it that early already? She had not spent that much time holding Serafine, and it was over? She wanted pull her even closer, not to let go, but the baby was not hers. She had given hers up already. Quinn could not look up at them.
"Hiram, why don't Rachel and I help you finish packing? That way you can get on the road before traffic."
"You sure, what about-" Mr. Berry started to ask, but Rachel stood up quickly.
"Quinn has a good handle on it, she and Uncle Remy can do it." Quinn kept her head down but smiled again. Thank you, Rae, she wanted to say. But her words locked in her throat and could only nod to her girlfriend without meeting her eyes. "If that is okay, Uncle Remy."
The man laughed, full and deep. "Of course, cheri," he replied. "I would love to get to know the girl who captured my sweet niece's heart."
Rachel kissed her cheek, muttered something about leaving a set of cloths for her to change into before running off, almost skipping, with her parents, dragging a small bag with the adults to the foyer. Quinn remained still, slowly her rocking until she came to a complete stop. Remy stepped over to her, and she looked up to a large, toothy grin.
"You're good with her," he said.
"Thank you," Quinn said. She stood evenly, flowing upward in a single motion. Remy stared at her, though it was not in a way she had been used to. Men tended to gaze at her as though she were a piece of meat or a trophy. At school, everyone stared, whether because of her physical beauty or her cold grip over the populace. Remy stared at her as though he were studying her, like on those documentaries they used to show on Discovery channel before it went downhill. "What?"
"Nothing, just," He walked to the stairs, his words disappearing into mutters and mumbles.
Quinn followed him up the stairs, watching him move as though each step was a chore. Remy carried a heavy weight, one she felt a few steps behind him, pushing on her chest with every breathe he took. Every rise and fall of his shoulders. Pulsing and pumping. It was familiar, yet so strange that she wanted to step back and run. Again. Her tiger-self growl deep within her, and she eyes danced over every surface, every corner, every edge. Taking all the details in to determine just where it was coming from. Where it would find her. Where the attack would start, the same place it would end. She would protect Beth. Serafine, she meant Serafine. She had given up Beth and let her daughter be whisked away to somewhere safe.
"Coming, Quinn?" Remy asked, and she found herself standing on the landing and staring at the stairs in front of her. She nodded and quickly moved up them, until she was standing next to the fountain of energy, of power.
Quinn stared at his chest, trying to understand just how it felt so in time with each movement of his lungs, his heart, his whole being. Her senses ignited and she could almost hear the blood flow through his arteries and veins, her ears twitching at the sound. She could smell the sparks of his cells as they fired and the ozone that floated around him. Her skin danced an electric current, up and down her arms, legs, and tail. "What are you?" Quinn asked.
"I could ask the same thing," He looked up and down at her. Her tail twitched again and-
"Oh no," Quinn reached up with her free hand, patting her ears down. She dragged her hand over her face, fur beneath her fingertips. She could see the claws grown from them, and the stripes glowing very slightly up and down her arms. Her tail poked out one of the holes in her sweats. "Please, no. I, Remy, Mr. Lafitte, it is not what you thing, I swear, I am-"
"It has been a very long time since I seen a therianthropic," Remy replied. "Let along an ailuranthropic."
"A what?"
"A were-cat, specifically, a were-tiger," Remy gentle took Serafine from her, but his smile never disappeared. Neither did the power. "I thought your kind was gone. Slaughtered by Hunters. I'm to see that wasn't true."
Quinn stepped away.
"It's okay," he said. "Quinn, it's fine. I swear by my ancestors, may their spirits leave me. I mean you no harm." His accent became heavier, and the power danced on her fur. She felt the static build in her. She took another step back. He followed this time. "I can explain."
"I do not, what is it you wish from me, I have-"
"You are safe here, nothing will happen. A Hunter has no power on these lands. I have ensured it." His eyes moved up and down her, watching her movements, cornering her. What did he want from her? Why was he like this, this strange entity? She could not smell him anymore, just the roar of ozone filled her nose.
"A hunter? Power, I-"
"You know nothing?" Remy stopped advancing. "No one, did you parents not teach you of our world?"
"No, my mother," Quinn replied, shaking her head and looking away from the extremely large man. "Our life was normal. We were normal. It had to be that way. She had accepted it so. My father-"
"Say no more, I understand, then." He waved for her to follow, never stepping into her space. He led her into a bedroom where a crib had been set up. "It just means there is a lot you don't know, a lot you need, and I don't have the time to explain it, or the knowledge of it fully."
"I have had a little help, some werewolves by me," Quinn said.
"Good, at least that's a start. Is there a warden or druid in the area, someone to watch out for you?" Remy lied Serafine down in the crib, showing his back to Quinn. She wanted to pounce, to finish accepting her tiger and attack the man who had exposed her in a place she was not welcomed. But she held back. The danger was high, and the hair on her tail stood on its end.
"I do not know what that means." One Remy's belt was a series of pouches, including a stick that looked like bone, etched with various symbols and things on it in dark brown ink. They had hints of that pulsing force, though not as great as him. Remy was a dangerous person, far more than she had seen before.
Quinn was truly a kitten before him, and she did not like it.
Remy turned around and leaned against the crib, smiling at her. It was meant to be warm and comforting. Her tail twitched again. "I wish we had more time. There is so much you need to know."
"About what?"
"About everything. Our world is so much larger than you can imagine."
Downstairs, she could hear the conversations of Misters Berry and Brianna, though everything was muffled by the floorboards, the plywood, and the carpet. Mr. and Mrs. Berry were sleeping, or at least, one of them was. The other tossed and turned in the bed. The rest of the house was quiet.
Remy pulled out a card and handed it to her. "I'm probably the closest you could speak to about this, at least who is willing to open and help you. Another man operates out of the phone book, practically giving our secrets away, in Chicago."
Quinn took the card from his hand before he stepped any closer, her eyes never moving from his. Remy moved back slowly, returning to his easy stance against the crib. The card read "Laffite's Emporium: Purveyor of Incense, Spices, and Herbs." There was a number at the bottom.
"It's a front of sorts, but the shop does well enough that I can continue my research. We also well roots, minerals, candles, oils, and so many other things that the various practitioners could find useful. I supply a decent number of folk in the city, and some country wide now with the internet, though my wife handles that. Electronics and I don't mix well."
"I do not understand." Remy was rambling on of something. She knew that there was more to things, more than simply what was present. She was a perfect example of that. Santana was something more, but Quinn did not understand that either. Was there even stranger things out there? Why would he offer to help her then, to explain these things? What was she getting into? What was she in? Quinn wanted to speak, but she just gripped the card tighter. She had too much already to deal with, especially that she had a girlfriend who had not told her about a returning ex.
"We'll talk later about it, call me," Remy said. "Your girl is gonna come up and get you soon."
"I know," Quinn said. "She is walking up the stairs now."
"Then you might want to change back, least her fathers freak out about your appearance." She looked at her paw hands, and closed her eyes, focusing on the blonde cheerleader she was, accepting her appearance against every instinct she had. The transformation back into a human form was not painful in a physical sense, but she hated mirrors enough to know that the acceptance hurt sometimes. Quinn sighed heavily, exhaling every bit she could, and her fur and claws and tail slowly returned into her.
Rachel stepped into room, a shy smile lifting Quinn's spirit. She moved into her space and wrapped her arms around her waist. "Everything okay?" she asked.
Quinn looked down at the card, but nodded anyways. Things had changed. Again. She was not sure how to deal with it, but at least Rachel was with her now. Remy knew more than she did, probably her mother too. It was another conversation she would have to have with her concerning more things that she should know. Things that could be of importance, both to her and her life.
"Quinn?" Remy said as they turned to leave, more like Rachel dragged her to leave by her side, refusing to move from her.
"Yes?"
"Beware the Hunters," he said, "They will come from you. If I can sense you, they certainly can. Be careful and watch for them." Remy nodded once, then turned back to his daughter. Rachel looked back and forth between them, but Quinn's blank face was enough to keep them moving.
As they walked down the stairs, Rachel paused to grab the coat from the couch, wrapping it around her shoulders. "I figured you'd want to just head out. I have your stuff packed away already, though your pillow and blanket are in the back for us. For you to sleep. You've barely gotten any these past couple days and I just want you to be okay. And while normally, I don't mind seeing your ass, this is the only time you get to wave that fine piece of meat about for the family. It is mine and mine alone, got it?"
Quinn nodded, and pulled Rachel closer. "What did Uncle Remy want?"
"To help, I think," Quinn said. She looked at the card, now crumpled. "I do not know how though. I barely understand what he wanted in the first place."
"Is everything okay?"
"You are with me?"
"Of course, all the way."
"Then yes. Everything is okay." Rachel squealed softly and hugged her tightly, dragging her to the car where Misters Berry waited for them for the six hour, god awful car right. But Rachel was with her, and that meant at least, for the moment, she would be okay. They would get to the strangeness that Remy spoke of, the return of St. James, and probably even what was going on with Tish and the Skanks, but for the one fleeting moment in a farmland surrounded English country home, everything was okay.
But there is also Quinn's hierarchy of needs. "You mentioned bacon, right? Do you still have it?"