AN: Because I HAD to update after last nights Glee.
If it had been any other moment, any other place, Quinn probably would have laughed.
They were sitting outside her mother's house – again - neither of them making a move to get out or even suggest moving from the safety of the car.
"Déjà vu," she muttered and shook her head with a wry smile. Rachel shot her a glance and Quinn shrugged. Part of her wanted to march into that house with her head held high to prove to her Uncle that his words and opinions wouldn't make her run. She was sure she was strong enough for that. Except Rachel was her priority and Rachel didn't want to go back. Plus, she was fairly certain she'd do something stupid if Phillip decided to direct his nastiness at Rachel anymore than he already had. Not because she couldn't handle the name calling, but because Quinn wouldn't allow them to treat her like that. Like Quinn had when they were younger.
Quinn closed her eyes and tried to push down the rising self-loathing. She hated those memories more than any other. Rachel might have forgiven her for it, but Quinn would probably never be able to do that for herself.
"I'm going in," Rachel suddenly announced, jarring Quinn from her thoughts.
"You – what?"
"Sorry, that sounded like a really cliché television or movie line, didn't it? I meant, 'I'm going to go in and get the suitcase.' We can walk to my house from here so we can leave your Mom's car for them."
Rachel had her determined face on, and Quinn couldn't have kept the smile off her face if she'd tried. "I'm not sure that's a great idea, Superstar."
"The walking part or me retrieving our stuff?"
Quinn sighed and tightened her grip on the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. "Have you looked outside? It's kind of cold. Also I'm not sure sending you in to face the hyenas is wise."
"We have coats, Quinn, and you know it's not that far of a walk. Daddy can put the kettle on if we're absolutely frozen. Maybe some chamomile tea is exactly what we need. As for issue number two," Rachel straightened in her seat and set her jaw, "I can take care of myself. I'm not afraid of their petty words, nor am I incapable of retaliating should the need arise. I plan on walking right in, grabbing the suitcase, and marching back out without a single word. They won't even have time to say anything."
"Hurricane Berry is somewhat frightening," Quinn said, reluctantly slipping her hands away from the steering wheel. She pulled the keys free and handed them over to Rachel. "I'm not going to argue with you."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Quinn leaned back in her seat and inclined her head towards the front door.
Rachel was slightly flabbergasted at how easily Quinn had acquiesced. She'd expected more of a fight. "I'll be fast."
"I'll be here."
Watching her go almost physically pained Quinn, but she wanted Rachel to have this moment. It was important to her; she could see it in her eyes. Once Rachel got into one of those moods it was nearly impossible to get her out of it, or let alone talk her out of it. Quinn didn't want to restrain her – she just hoped a little luck could find them and Rachel's defender cape would be unnecessary.
Tipping her head back against the seat with a snort, Quinn closed her eyes and let the silence of the car envelop her.
Rachel's purposeful stride faltered as she neared the front door; she slowed until she was almost stalking up the steps like a thief. Which is exactly what she felt like – minus the all black outfit and ski mask. She looked left and right and then rolled her eyes at herself. "For the love of Elphaba, what is wrong with me?" And now she was talking to herself… great.
Unwilling to stand out in the cold any longer, despite her growing trepidation, Rachel opened the door without even her usual deep, calming breath. She didn't knock or ring the ridiculous bell, just opened the door with Judy's keys. There was a rush of giddiness at her bravado and she all but swaggered into the house like she owned it.
… only to nearly fall over in fright when a bang sounded in the kitchen. The suitcase was still sitting in the entryway, so close to grasping range it was almost taunting her – if she moved for it she would be within view of both the living room and whoever was in the kitchen. She was contemplating her next move when Judy stumbled out and stopped right in front of her.
Well, this is awkward.
"Mrs. Fabray," Rachel said stiffly, but politely.
Judy just stared at her, eyes rimmed a vibrant red and glazed over, with a glass of something that smelled strongly of liquor clutched in her hand.
Swallowing a scoff, Rachel crossed her arms and jerked her chin at the glass. "Dare I ask how many of those you've had?" After the conversation with Quinn, Rachel wasn't exactly feeling charitable towards Judy, and while she knew she probably shouldn't be picking a fight she couldn't help herself. As far as Rachel was concerned Judy was just as responsible for abusing Quinn as Russell had been. Maybe in her mind she'd thought she'd been trying her best to help, but the way Rachel saw it all she'd done was try and hide the evidence afterwards.
"I fail to see how that's any of your business," Judy snapped, then blinked slowly a couple of times.
Rachel let out a completely un-lady like snort and resisted the urge to throttle Judy in her own home. "Is it really going to help anything?"
"What would you know about it?" Judy shot back and took a greedy gulp of whatever mixed drink she'd fixed.
"I know all of it," Rachel snarled and stared hard at Judy. Drunk though she obviously was, Judy paled at the implication and her perfect posture vanished as she caved inwards on herself. "You're a coward, and the worst kind I could imagine. Hiding behind your alcohol - simpering - watching while your husband…" She paused for a shuddery inhale and shook her head. "She is your daughter. She deserves more than you and I think you know that. You must know that the alcohol only offers fleeting relief – it's not going to make it go away or magically better. You need to grow up and face reality. Quinn, for some unfathomable reason, still wants you in her life. I'd take that as a gift, if I were you, and I certainly wouldn't waste the opportunity to have such a wonderful person in my life by continuing to ignore what happened by drowning the memories with cocktails. It's not healthy, and it's not right that you skirt the issues while she deals with them."
Rachel took two steps forward to grab the handle of the suitcase, handed a stunned Judy the keys to the car, and without another word or glance back whirled around and marched right out the door.
As soon as it closed behind her she fell back against the sturdy wood and took several ragged breaths. Quinn was out of the car in seconds and storming up towards Rachel.
"Are you okay?" she asked, hazel eyes gleaming almost gold in the porch light.
"Let's go. Can we go?" Rachel held on to the suitcase handle for dear life and tried not to run down the steps.
Quinn followed her at a slightly more sedate pace, eyebrows drawn together and mouth fixed in a worried pout. She glanced back at the front of her old home and saw her mother staring after them through the bay window. Her shiver had nothing to do with the cold, and she hurried that much more to catch up to Rachel.
They walked down the street without a word between them; Quinn fell back into dark thoughts the further they went. She didn't know what had happened in the house, obviously, but something had happened and Rachel was completely withdrawn, head bowed and eyes distant. Quinn felt the stirrings of anger in her stomach as Rachel chewed on her bottom lip and refused to look at her or reach for her. Normally when she was upset, no matter over what, Rachel sought contact – a hug, a hand to hold, or sometimes even just the touch of her fingers to the small of Quinn's back. What had Judy said? Had her mother hurt Rachel in some way? The thought pissed her off beyond reason.
She completely stopped when another idea hit her with enough force to steal the air from her lungs.
Was Rachel having second thoughts about their relationship now that she knew the truth about Quinn's family?
Rachel stopped a few steps ahead of her and twisted to look back at her. Quinn could only stare, unable to say anything with her throat so constricted, feeling like she was going to suffocate.
"Quinn, it's cold. Come on."
Forcing herself back into motion, Quinn followed Rachel's lead and didn't attempt to completely close the distance between them. Her feet felt heavy, but she moved them slowly forward, one in front of the other while fighting hard not to cry. If she started now she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop and it really was freezing.
When they finally reached Rachel's childhood home, Quinn kept her distance, merely observing.
Not oblivious to the mood that had fallen over Quinn, Rachel set her jaw to combat the burn in her eyes and retrieved the hidey-key from under the potted plant. She had to smirk at the fact that her fathers still hid the key there, despite her protests that it was far too obvious a hiding place. Unlocking the door she eased it open, gesturing for Quinn to go in first while she put the key back. She'd been expecting her fathers to be up and waiting for them, but the house was completely quiet and dark. "They must've gone back to bed," she commented lightly.
Quinn nodded and Rachel sighed as she moved up the staircase.
"Go on in, I'm just going to go tell them we're here," Rachel said, pointing to her bedroom door. Again Quinn nodded as she slipped into the bedroom while Rachel tiptoed down the hall to her fathers' room. She knocked twice and slowly peeked the door open. "Dad? Daddy?"
There was a muffled groan and the rustle of sheets until Hiram appeared in the doorway, yawning. He waved. "Hey sweetheart."
Rachel lost it, pushing through the barely open door right into Hiram's arms as she started crying.
Hiram looked over his shoulder at his husband blinking owlishly in the sudden illumination of the bedside lamp. Without even a second thought he cradled Rachel more firmly against his torso and waddled them over to the bed, setting her down between them so they both could hold her. They'd known when they got her phone call that their welcome at the Fabray's had not gone well – not that they were really surprised, but it still was awful to see her going through the same thing they'd been battling for years.
"They're supposed to be a family…" Rachel whimpered. "Daddy, it was awful."
"It's okay," Leroy said, though his face clearly indicated how not okay it actually was. "How's Quinn?"
"Quinn is – she walls it all up. I don't know what to do."
"Do you need a glass of water?" Hiram asked. It was breaking his heart to hear her quivering gasps for air and feel her tears dampening her shirt.
"No. I want – I want Quinn. But she, I don't know how to make it better. How do I make it better?" Rachel pulled away and stared directly up at Leroy.
"You can't fix it for her, baby. All you can do is be here with her, and you'll figure it out together."
She wiped at her eyes and re-steeled herself. "I wish I could take her away from all of this."
"You can't run away from stuff like this, Rachel, and you know that too." Hiram said, rubbing her back soothingly. "You're exhausted, sweetheart. Why don't you go clean up in our bathroom and go to bed, okay? We can talk more in the morning."
Rachel ducked her head as both Leroy and Hiram both swooped in to kiss her. "I'm sorry I woke you up."
"Nope, that's what Dad's are for," Leroy said, and nudged her lightly with his shoulder.
"I love you," She returned the affection with a kiss to both their cheeks. "Still the best Dads ever."
"We know." Hiram winked, standing up with an exaggerated groan. "Come on," holding out his hand he helped her to her feet and watched her shuffle off to the bathroom. As soon as she was occupied with washing her face and the running water was loud enough to cover him, he looked back at Leroy and raised an eyebrow.
"I know," Leroy sighed and slouched back against his pillow. "But they've got to work through this on their own. We can't go all white knight and burn the Fabray house down… or whatever crazy idea you're brewing."
"Ugh, mind reader," Hiram joked and flopped back on the bed. "Do we try and talk to Quinn tomorrow?"
"I think we wait and let Rachel do her thing – if Quinn wants to talk to us she'll seek us out. Not a bad idea to offer though, but to Rachel."
"Right."
"Are you going to sleep on the end of the bed like the dog you won't allow me to have?"
"Leroy, if we get a dog I will be the one taking care of it."
"But I miss having a little bumbly, bouncy nut to chase around and put adorable outfits on and fight to get into the bathtub." Leroy pouted and poked at Hiram with his foot.
"We'll see."
Rachel reappeared, face wiped clean and tinged pink from the scrubbing. "Goodnight, and thank you," she said quietly and inched her way out of their room. She padded down the hall to her room and wasn't surprised to see Quinn already in a nest of blankets, curled up on her side. Throwing open the suitcase she pried free Quinn's Batman boxers and her Harry Potter shirt and put all of her flagging energy into changing. Quinn didn't move when Rachel lifted the blankets and crawled in to the bed. In fact Rachel wasn't sure Quinn was still breathing she was so still.
They lay there, both feeling the weight of the things they weren't saying, and neither could find the right words. Quinn wanted to close her eyes and sleep - she was so weary - but her mind was too busy and she felt so empty, lost in the quiet that was somehow louder than anything. She could hear Rachel shifting, her legs moving under the blankets, and felt the bed dip when she settled again. It wasn't right; those legs were supposed to be tangled with hers, that warm little body pressed along hers – and she knew sleep wouldn't come easy without the familiar embrace.
Rachel wasn't sure what was worse – staring at Quinn's back or choosing to roll and face away feeling the space between them. She could see the tension in Quinn's shoulders and knew she wasn't sleeping. "Please," she whispered, because she couldn't think of anything else.
Quinn rolled over slowly, pausing on her back to gather herself before turning completely to face Rachel in the dark. "I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"Because of – because of all of this. I never wanted you to have to deal with my family like this. I guess I hoped that things would change, but they never seem to."
It was hard for Rachel to restrain herself while everything in her was begging to reach out and touch, to comfort. But even more than that, she felt that she needed to wait. "Quinn."
"If you don't want to be with me anymore, I understand."
Rachel's mouth fell open, even though she knew that Quinn probably couldn't see it. "Quinn! Is that - are you serious?"
"You – after you got the suitcase…" Quinn trailed off, suddenly feeling somewhat foolish and unbelievably insecure. She was thankful for the gloom, so Rachel couldn't see the blush she felt creeping over her face, or the tears that were gathering in her eyes.
"I yelled at your Mom," Rachel explained and wormed in closer to Quinn. This conversation she could handle, it was everything else that was terrifying. She shook her head and bit her lip as she set her forehead against Quinn's. "Well, more like sternly spoke to her. I got so mad; I just lost control for a couple of seconds. Then when I left I realized what I'd just done. It's a bit shocking when you verbally tear down your significant other's parent. It was probably rash, considering I just met her."
Quinn wanted to laugh, well she wanted to laugh and cry actually, but she opted for neither and chose instead to wrap her arms around Rachel. "You are so amazing."
Feeling much better now that Quinn was holding on to her, Rachel squeezed her eyes tightly shut and curled her hands together against Quinn's chest. "Quinn, I'm not going anywhere. Ever. Unless you make me."
"I'm sorry, again. Everything with my Mom and Phillip and Finn was just - I feel like I need a vacation."
"Finn doesn't mean anything," Rachel said firmly and sighed. "None of them mean anything, Quinn, just you. I belong to you."
Quinn shook her head and fumbled for a second to get her hand on Rachel's cheek. "You don't belong to anyone. You never have. You're not property."
"I know that, I meant in a metaphorical sense and I was trying to be romantic. I guess I should have been clearer - my heart belongs to you. It has for awhile, and you should know that and trust that more than anything."
"My head's all over the place today," Quinn admitted, lightly rubbing her nose against Rachel's. "I shouldn't have doubted you."
"I agree."
"About my head being all over the place?"
Rachel snorted and softly bumped her head against Quinn's. "Go to sleep."
"Oh, I see, sweet Rachel is gone and it's back to bossing me around."
"Quinn?"
"I'm sleeping, Rachel, because somebody told me to." Quinn smirked, and nuzzled her head deeper into her pillow, moving her thumb against Rachel's cheek a couple of times just so she would know that she was listening. The second her eyes closed she almost whimpered at how fast her sleepiness crashed on her. Her head was throbbing.
"Do you think we could talk more, about everything, when we get home?"
Home. Oh god, it sounded so good. Home in her own bed, freezing her ass off in New York, getting caught in traffic, listening to Ryan rant. Quinn tried to open her eyes again, but her body refused. "We can talk tomorrow and the next day and for the rest of forever if you want to."
Rachel smiled and uncurled one fist so she could touch her fingers to the hidden scar on Quinn's chest. "Okay."
TBC...