Chapter Nineteen: The One Lingering on Christmas Eve
XVIV: I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love did was break, burn and end. But on Wednesday, in a cafe, I watched it begin again.
He's not sure how he gets himself into these situations. Mike has never considered himself a person unable to say no, but denying Kurt in his current dilapidated condition isn't something he could do. Somehow, he manages to recall the room Kurt poorly directed him to and stops just short of her door. In his head, he formulates a plan; words of apology and sympathy. Then, a mad dash towards the door and back to Kurt.
Mike can do this.
He knocks on her door – it's a private room, which he can't help but raise his eyebrows at – and waits for a response. Just as Mike begins to think he won't receive one, a small voice calls him in. Taking a readying breath, he enters the room and is surprised with the sight.
Despite what he was led to believe, this woman doesn't seem to be in a wretched condition. Her leg is a bit battered by the looks of things, but other than that, she remains unscathed. It takes him aback and delays his response process, causing her to clear her throat awkwardly and ask him, "Can I help you?"
He shakes his head, and finally looks at this "Tina Chang" properly. True to Kurt's word, she's of Asian ethnicity, with long curling hair and a smile that holds not a measure of malice. Kind eyes peer over at him, and he realises she is nothing like he expected. She's beautiful.
"Um, hi. Sorry to disturb you…" He trails off, finding himself losing his train of thought and ability to form a coherent sentence.
"That's okay. As you can see, it's not like I'm entertaining company," Her smile is still warm as she gestures around to the entirely empty room, which makes him pause. Why is she on her own on a day like this? It's almost a crime.
"That's rather sad." He blurts out, and internally berates himself for something so thoughtless and tactless.
"I guess it is. My family are in South Korea though, it's not like they can hop on a flight and be here in two minutes."
Mike nods, "So you're from South Korea?"
Tina gestures for him to sit down on the plastic chair next to her bed, probably seeking some company. Mike is more than happy to oblige. He takes the seat and looks to her for an answer, feeling like he wants to know more.
"Yeah, I haven't been back there for a while though. My job causes me to travel quite a lot – hey, what are the presents about?" She asks with humour, only noticing the gifts in Mike's hands now. He remembers them now as she points it out. Before he can reply, she tilts her head and continues, "And what's your name? I'm sorry, but I've no idea who you are… Am I supposed to?"
He's almost tempted to cook up a story of them being old lovers, but he's much too honest for that. Mike's not like his friends and he's not going to lie to her, even if he – for some unfathomable reason – wants to remain chatting to her for as long as possible.
"No. No, we don't know each other – my name is Mike Chang. I'm friends with Kurt Hummel." He pauses, gauging her reaction, which is mostly neutral. "You know.. the guy in the crash.." Tina can barely utter a word before Mike is rushing on, desperate to explain his presence and his friends defence, "I'm so sorry that happened. Kurt wasn't driving the car, but he feels awful about it and—"
"It's okay." She says simply, shrugging as she does this.
Mike's mouth drops open, "Wh..what?"
Tina sighs, adjusting herself on the bed to sit higher. Her facial expression reflects some pain as she does this, and Mike asks if he can help. She shakes her head and returns to the subject at hand, one that he's feeling an aversion to discussing. Finally comfortable, Tina finds his eyes once more, "You know Mike, I think it's quite nice of you to come down here for Kurt. I assume he still can't leave his room without nurse supervision?"
"No.. but he would have if he could."
She smiles kindly, her eyes soft, "I believe you. The other boy, Finn, spoke to me the other day."
He can't understand. In her situation, Mike would be filing lawsuits, writing strongly-worded letters and ranting about the injustice of the world. Yet, here Tina is, sitting calmly in her hospital room alone, acting as if all is right with the world. There's no bite in her tone, no spite in her words; she's not filled with hatred.
"You don't understand, do you?" Mike shakes his head truthfully, relieved she understands without him saying. "There isn't a point in holding onto hatred and pain, it only creates hurt. A vicious circle of hurting one another and trying vainly to achieve some form of revenge or penance – or even redemption – when no one can truly give you that. Hurting another won't take away your pain, and in the end, all anyone is left with is emptiness. Holding onto it just prolongs your problem."
He doesn't know what to say, searching her face for signs of a lie or hesitation, but he finds neither. Her expression is one of openness, baring her heart. It strikes him how she doesn't seem a person of dishonesty or games, and he hadn't even seen how much he wanted to see those qualities in a person until now.
She speaks again, her voice gentle, "I don't want to walk around angry."
Mike can do nothing but hand her the gifts, feeling that she deserves this and more. Who really is this seemingly wonderful woman?
(He spends the rest of the night trying to figure it out.)
She yawns as the TV is turned off, and stretches languidly. Puck places the remote back down on the coffee table and she hears him smother a laugh. Looking over to him in curiosity, he points at the little girl lounging in between them. She's fast asleep, her legs resting on Pucks and her face leaning in between Quinn and a pillow. Gently, Quinn repositions her so she's lying on her lap. The girl doesn't stir, and she's surprised she's so tired – a glance at the clock confirms it's only half eight.
They've had a long day, though. Quinn and Puck collected Beth at nine this morning and proceeded to do everything they could with her on this short and special day. It saddens her to know that tomorrow morning, when Beth wakes up to a tree sheltering a horde of presents, and is full of that Christmas excitement – she and Puck will not be there. It's what she wanted to give Beth though. Stability.
Sure, Quinn is stable enough now, but her daughter is ten now. Ten years ago, and they would have been in a lot of trouble.
A glance at Puck confirms that he's thinking the same thing. They don't dwell on it anymore, it's only occasionally she's caught by the crushing agony of adoption. They have done what's best for Beth.
At the end of the day, they've created something beautiful and precious. One look at her and anyone would agree. Shelby has helped her flourish and grow, enabling that beauty to present itself within Beth as well as outside.
Puck whispers, "She's out a little early, isn't she?"
"I think she's just beat from the day. Shelby will be around soon anyway, we'll wake her then." She doesn't look at him as she speaks, only strokes Beth's hair softly, gazing down at her in wonder.
"I don't think I'd ever get tired of seeing that." Quinn's eyes meet his this time, and she gets the distinct impression that he hadn't meant to say that out loud. Uncharacteristically, he appears slightly bashful and shrugs a shoulder. "You and her together."
She wishes he didn't say that. It makes her chest ache a little in ways she doesn't like. "Well, it's the choice we made, and it was the right one."
"I don't regret it for a second." He replied promptly and they fall into silence.
Seconds tick by as Quinn replays his last words in her mind, thinking and analysing it to the point of annoyance. What is that supposed to mean, anyway? She had plenty of days she regretted giving Beth up – moments of madness, moments of lucidity but deep love. Arching her eyebrow, she asks rather curtly, "Never?"
"Never what?" She's not sure if he's being purposefully obtuse, or is genuinely lost. She doesn't know how long the silence was before she spoke.
"You've never regretted giving up Beth?" Quinn tries to keep her voice down, but it's becoming more difficult by the minute. Her voice is sharper than intended, and she briefly wonders why she's getting so worked up over this. This is in the past – what is her problem?
He laughs, but it's void of any humour, "Quinn, this is stupid. Of course I regret it sometimes. But when I really think about it, when I see her with Shelby, when I see what a stunning person she is, I don't regret it for one second." It's rare he's this genuine, and she can read him like a book. He's not lying. His expression turns irritable then, and Quinn swears she sees some hurt, too. "I don't like that you'd assume I was glad we gave Beth up for adoption, or that I never had moments of weakness where I wanted nothing more than to have her back. You're not the only one who loves her, Quinn. You weren't the only one signing her papers and you're not the only one sitting with her now."
Shocked, Quinn can't find the words to respond. The words settle around them, creating a minefield of wrong moves – she doesn't know what to say to avoid setting another one off. Quinn can't exactly call him wrong, but she's indignant that he thinks that's her opinion of him. She pushes past the indignation easily though, and finally acknowledges that perhaps they had always catered to Quinn's pain before Puck's. It was always a case of them finding something to occupy Quinn, a way to make her forget, a hug to make her calm. It startles her that she can't think of a time they did something to ease Puck's bad thoughts.
"I'm sorry," Quinn finally says lowly, and he looks at her in surprise. They all know how stubborn Quinn can be. "You're right." She wants to add 'for the most part', but somehow refrains. This is not the time for technicalities, and her ability to brush it off comes as a signal of how far she has matured. These kind of arguments had always been her and Puck's problems – but Sam.. maybe Sam had helped her get past that.
"I'm sorry, too." He replied sincerely, eyes roaming around the room, "I shouldn't have said all of that. We both have a lot to deal with."
On impulse, Quinn grabs his hand, her thumb stroking his skin softly. There are no more words left to say. Puck is thinking deeply, while she tries to read his mind, and just as he is about to reveal to her his inner workings, a knock disturbs them. Disgruntled, Puck rises to answer the door and Quinn tries to wake Beth up.
She hopes it's not Rachel, because god knows Rachel needs this date to go well.
To her relief, it's Shelby. Disappointment washes over her at the prospect of Beth leaving, but Quinn plasters on the same smile as Puck and turns to wake their little, sleeping angel. She shakes her gently several times, saying her name just as softly. Eventually, Beth stirs, a sleepy smile overcoming her face, "Is Santa here?"
"No, honey, your Mom is here to pick you up," The words sting, but she doesn't portray it. Beth hugs her tightly, and Quinn returns it with a ferocity.
Tears begin to assimilate in her eyes, but Quinn won't cry in front of her daughter. "Thanks for the great day, Quinn! I hope Santa brings you and Noah loads of presents," her words are a sleepy slur, but no less truthful.
Puck swoops in then, plucking the girl up into his arms – he's strong enough to still do that. They share a 'bear hug', causing Beth to giggle, and he kisses her on the forehead. Beth gives him the same speech she gave to Quinn, with some small adjustments. As he puts her down, she pulls him in and whispers loudly – suddenly sounding very awake – "You have to get Quinn an extra special present to show her how much you love her."
Puck laughs, "I'll have to do that, Beth Bear." He pushes her hair away from her face, gives her an encouraging smile and then turns to Shelby.
"Thanks guys. I'm sure Beth had a lovely day with her cousins. We'll be sure to call tomorrow."
"Merry Christmas, Beth," Quinn calls out as Puck returns Shelby's sentiments and tells her about how great their daughter is. Minutes pass and soon, the door is closing. They leave behind a silence that makes Puck and Quinn wince – she turns to him, wordlessly asking what they're supposed to do now. All of their friends are out and they don't know what to do with themselves.
Puck points to the drink cabinet before walking over and pulling out their vodka before he raises it in askance. She immediately says yes. They sit and pour two shots first, to get them started, and then mix it with some coke. They don't talk about Beth, but they do talk about everything else in their lives. Drinks come and go as they drone on. Quinn even lets Puck in a little on her relationship with Sam, all the wonderful things and some of the not so wonderful. She's a little drunk at this stage and knows that tomorrow she'll more than likely regret it.
Puck, who was always able to hold his alcohol better than her, received a text two hours later. He scans it and shoots her an apologetic look, and she takes it that he has to go. Draining the rest of his drink, he says solemnly, "Apparently, Kurt could do with some cheering up. According to Finn, anyway. Mike is on his way over but we all know who brings the fun around here!"
She rolls her eyes, "Not you, anyway."
"That hurts, Fabray. The unoriginal and uncreative comeback it—it just hurts. The laziness of it!"
"Get out of here," She says lightly, pushing him out the door. Quinn smiles as he bundles up, quietly admiring the broad chest and wide shoulders his jacket seems to accent. Her eyes raise back to his, and she knows immediately by this face that she's been caught.
"You know, about earlier—"
"We're both in the wrong, and we need to move forward. That's all." Quinn interjects, adamant about not discussing semantics. He looks torn, but after a beat, nods firmly and turns towards the door.
As she's about to close the door behind him, Puck spins back and grabs her wrist. In a flash, he pulls her close. She only has time to glance up in surprise before his lips descend, meeting hers in a sweet and demure peck on the lips. His hand caresses her face carefully, and he says seriously, "Just for the record, Q, it's always been you. It will always be you. Stop fighting it."
He leaves then.
After collecting herself, Quinn races over to Sam's. She's going to 'fight' this all the way to the ring.
She's smiling like an idiot. It's not a rare occurrence for Rachel on dates to be behaving like this – she falls fast, and hard, but this time she thinks it's for real. This time she thinks she'll be spared embarrassment, hurt and loneliness. This time, he's going to be just as committed to this and crazy about her. She hasn't been proved wrong thus far. After spending a wonderful few hours at the skating rink in central park, they're walking through the park with two strikingly scalding hot chocolates, discussing the people who walk by and guessing their lives. It's one of Rachel's favourite games, and one that her friends invariably get bored by at some stage.
He hasn't.
"What about them?" He asks, pointing to a young guy and girl. They're sitting on a bench, passing a cup of something hot between each other with bright grins. They're students, Rachel pinpoints. They look in love, full of the world's possibilities and untainted by the cynics.
"They're in college, and partake in the college's theatre society. He's one of the leads, but she's just one of the ones who sways in the background. He notices her though. He notices her, and suddenly, she feels alive again – she feels like she could be the one on centre stage again. She feels like he's saved her… She feels like she loves him." Rachel freezes with her last words, cursing herself silently and wishing she could keep her thoughts to herself. She's never been great at doing that though. Why couldn't she just keep her trap shut for once?! Maybe he won't notice. Maybe he'll skim over it and onto the next one.
Is that what she wants?
Rachel finds the courage to look up at him, standing so tall and proud above her, and he rewards her bravery with a small smile, "Rachel, I—I know we've only known each other a while. I—"
Her phone rings. Rachel does curse out loud this time, and rifles through her bag almost aggressively for the device that rings so obtrusively. She takes it out and is about to apologise to him for it, when Rachel catches the caller ID. She falters a moment. She knows it's a pivotal moment, Rachel's sure that this moment will somehow, somewhere define something.
She throws it back in her back and looks back at Jesse, "I'm so sorry, it's Quinn. I told her to ring me if she wanted any coffee on the way home… I'll just get it for her later. What were you saying?" Cringing at her shady reason, Rachel turns to him expectantly. She hopes she won't be disappointed. She wants to go home to Lima with a story, to tell her parents about this wonderful man and feel the joy of Christmas with a boyfriend.
Jesse takes her hands, drawing them closer together, and says clearly as they lean in to kiss, "Rachel Berry, I'm in love with you."
Back in Lima, Ohio, Finn Hudson throws his cellphone at the wall.
A/N: Again, I am so sorry for the wait! I've lost a lot of inspiration for this story and my other Glee fic. I think it's Glee in general. As I've said before, S4 isn't much of an inspiration. Hope you enjoyed this :) I've shortened it A LOT - as in this story - and have now narrowed it down to about five chapters, but there'll probably be more knowing me. I've cut out a lot of storylines I had planned for the sake of that, but if I hadn't, you'd get long waits for updates and subpar writing.
Thank you for reading, and I would really love some reviews :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, Friends or "Begin Again" by Taylor Swift.
CN.