AN: Sorry for the delay, this chapter was beating me up.
Rachel felt like she'd just managed to fall asleep when she startled awake, eyes snapping open to peer confusedly into an unfamiliar room. It took her a second to put together the pieces of her sleep addled memory. As clarity slowly returned she remembered that she was in Quinn's childhood bedroom, something which explained the lightness of her slumber but not what had pried her so easily from its feeble embrace. She sighed in mild annoyance with herself; generally a heavy sleeper, her jumpiness throughout the day had clearly followed her into the night. No matter how many times she'd silently berated herself her nervousness continued, amplified whenever she found herself in the company of Quinn's relatives on her own. Her growing guilt over never having known about Quinn's home life had made everything worse. She felt protective and borderline homicidal around the various Fabrays. Their fake veneer of perfection set her teeth on edge. For the life of her, she couldn't understand how they could even look Quinn in the eye.
To say that it had been a 'long' day would be a gross understatement. By the time the funeral ended and Judy had talked Quinn into coming back to stay with her family it was already noon. Even though Quinn had agreed to her mother's request they still didn't go back with the rest of the Fabrays, instead heading into town for lunch with the Berry men and, oddly enough, Finn Hudson.
Stalling wouldn't really be the right word for the way they dawdled in town - it was more like avoiding the inevitable. They'd stretched their time as far as they could, but ended up back in the Fabray driveway long after dinner.
Fortunately the house had been still, save for Quinn's triplet cousins who had graciously allowed them in and had even more graciously not said a word past 'good-night'. The house felt twice as creepy in the dark. Rachel had half expected a serial killer or vampire (possibly a blood crazed Phillip) to jump out and slaughter them in the hallway as they crept towards Quinn's bedroom.
Needless to say, sleep took it's sweet time finding them. However much she'd gotten hadn't been enough, and it certainly wasn't stopping her mind from churning.
Thinking about it, she wasn't sure what she had expected, in movies and television it was almost always raining or snowing. Standing in bright sunshine while a coffin was lowered into the ground seemed so strange. Of course, everything about the funeral seemed strange to her. She wasn't Catholic, and Quinn wasn't exactly devout, so she was a little confused about the proceedings.
Their morning had been pleasant enough. Leroy and Hiram had been a good distraction for Quinn, but as Rachel had predicted they couldn't hide from the day forever.
As soon as they reached the cemetery Quinn had shrunk further inside her shell, seemingly turning into one of those old Greek marble statues. As pale as the snow and hard as the sharp breeze that had slapped against them all day, the only glimmer of emotion she been able to see in Quinn all day had been a brief flash of something in her unfathomable hazel green eyes as they lowered the casket into the frozen ground. She hadn't even cried, just standing there - the Venus de Milo in the flesh - her hand holding tightly to Rachel's.
Rachel had been a little surprised at the turn out for the funeral. Finn had been there, and surprisingly enough Will Schuester.
She could have done without that conversation.
"It was really nice of you to come back with Quinn."
Completely distracted with watching Quinn talk with Judy, Rachel barely heard her former teacher. Tilting her head in acknowledgement, her eyes still firmly on Quinn, she murmured a reply more to herself than Will. "Hm? Yes, well, I certainly wasn't going to let her come back here alone."
"What about your show?"
That, however, got her attention and she felt herself bristle in irritation. "Excuse me?"
"It's great that you're here for her, Rachel, but aren't you missing out on some performances? She's got her family here, and I'd hate for you to miss your time on stage out of concern for an old friend." The disapproving tone in his voice was familiar and severely unwelcome. Rachel turned, putting her full attention back on her old teacher and not bothering to try and hide her glare.
"You know what? No. You might have missed your chance on stage, Mr. Schuester, but this is my life and I know what I'm sacrificing by being at Quinn's side when she needs me. For your information, her family isn't exactly what I would call supportive." She paused for a second, needing just a moment to gather herself before she physically attacked him. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried in vain not to think of a younger Quinn locked in the closet. "And you should have known that years ago if you gave a damn about her." She tried to keep her voice level, not wanting to make a scene, but her frustration with him was making it difficult. This man, a man who was supposed to be a mentor - their teacher and leader - had done nothing for Quinn. In fact she could remember several times where he'd blatantly ignored the goings on within the Glee Club. Perhaps he thought he shouldn't involve himself in the lives of his students, but all Rachel could think of was Quinn, homeless and pregnant, and where had Will been then? Where had any of them been? Her guilt smacked into her and all but stole her breath. She'd been there too, seeing the signs in Quinn and while she had, on occasion, reached out to her... it just wasn't enough. Maybe then she couldn't have done anything more than she had, but he had no excuse; he could have stepped in. He should have stepped in.
"Rachel, I – "
"What is it with you? Do you just walk around with blinders on all the time? Anything that doesn't fit into your pretty picture gets blocked out?" Rachel hissed, jerking her arm away from his hesitant touch. "You were the father she desperately wanted - the one she needed - and you couldn't be bothered to know anything about her except what was important to or directly involved you. You let her down, ignoring everything when she needed you to see that it wasn't all okay."
He looked completely dumbfounded, his eyes wide as he looked around, as if searching for an exit he just couldn't find. "I'm not sure what you're trying to say."
"Really?" Rachel sneered. "I thought I was pretty clear. I see the things that you never bothered to pay attention to and I can't believe that you're really that selfish. Her family is not here for her and you'd know that if you took the time to remove your head from your ass. I'm sorry, Mr. Schue, but my girlfriend is more important to me than a couple of shows."
"Your girlfriend?" Will echoed, his mouth falling open.
"Yes, girlfriend. Perhaps you'd like to serenade us with some Sapphic themed monstrosity? 'I Kissed a Girl', perhaps? No?" There were too many memories, too much information in one weekend, and Rachel's fists shook with anger and some emotion she couldn't name.
"I didn't know," he stammered.
None of them had known.
"That's my point exactly." Exhausted, defeated, and in no mood to try and make Will Schuester feel any better about himself, she shook her head, flashed him one last hard look, and went to find Quinn.
All her thoughts made Rachel turn, suddenly surprised to realize that the usual heat of Quinn sleeping practically on top of her was absent. She discovered the cause of her awakening almost immediately, seeing Quinn balled up on the far side of the bed shivering harshly. She looked so tiny - so frail - curled up like that.
Rachel's heart clinched at the sight; she was almost sure it broke. Leaping from the bed like a runner from the block she darted out into the hall, determined to find the extra blankets she should have thought to gather earlier. Once in the dark with the bedroom door closed behind her however, she found herself lost and anxious again. In a strange house in the dead of night, with multiple doors facing her, she felt as if any one of them could lead her right into the 'lion's den' as it were. What if she threw open a door and instead of the much needed blankets she found herself stumbling into Quinn's mother's room? Or worse, one of her scarier relatives?
Indecision warred in Rachel's mind as she eyed each door down the darkened hall with growing trepidation. It felt a bit like a game of Russian roulette.
"Eenie, meenie, miney, moe?" she whispered to herself and bit into her lip. She was saved (or doomed) from her uncertainty by the click and groan of another door opening. Judy abruptly appeared with a groggy and quizzical look. They stared at one another, blinking as though trying to decide if they should each run and hide. Finally Rachel slumped, shoulders falling as she gave in, and gestured limply back at Quinn's bedroom door. "Quinn is freezing, are there extra blankets?"
Judy hesitated, but only briefly, before she stepped out and opened the closet. "I forgot that she gets cold at night."
That's not all you 'forgot', Rachel seethed. She barely managed to catch herself before she said it aloud. Sometimes speaking one's mind was more a curse than a gift, and in this instance she figured some things were better left locked behind her teeth. "In the summer she melts," she commented instead, shaking her head. Judy came back down the hall, arms laden with a few thick looking quilts. Rachel accepted them with a soft thank you and turned on her heel to make a hasty retreat back to Quinn.
"Rachel…"
She froze and closed her eyes tightly, so close to getting out unscathed! "Yes?"
"I'm – I'm so glad Quinn has someone like you in her life."
"I was under the distinct impression that you frowned upon her – our - lifestyle?" Rachel forced herself to turn around, meeting Judy's stare and setting her jaw. Yes, Judy had kicked out her husband and brought her child back home. But Rachel couldn't forgive her for the neglect she'd witnessed and still saw evidence of in Quinn. All she'd done was put a roof back over her child's head – a roof that shouldn't have ever been removed in the first place. Beyond that, now that Rachel knew about Russell and the abuse Quinn had suffered at his hands... Judy had watched Quinn fall to pieces and done nothing. Nothing. It shattered Rachel's heart and didn't leave her with many good things to say or think about the shy looking woman before her.
Judy's rigid posture screamed her discomfort with the conversation and Rachel made herself stand down. The thought that Quinn didn't need this on top of everything else was the only thing tempering Rachel's words. Judy might not, but Rachel would always protect Quinn.
"I'm sorry. I'm tired and worried about her. I didn't mean to snap and make you more uncomfortable," she apologized and grit her teeth at the bitter taste it left in her mouth.
"No, I probably deserve everything I imagine you're holding back, Rachel. And that's why I wanted to talk to you, again. Quinn needs you and you're there for her, more than I ever was. I suppose I'm trying to say 'thank you' but I don't really know how to." Judy bowed her head, then shocked Rachel into dropping her blankets when she surged forwards and caged her in a gentle embrace. "I may not understand all of Quinn's choices in life, but I'm proud of her and I can't ignore how happy you make her. You are not a mistake... I see that now and I want to tell you thank you. Thank you for loving my daughter. Thank you for taking care of her, for protecting her like I always should have. I – I approve of you, Rachel. I hope that makes sense."
Rachel's arms moved up and closed around Judy, awkwardly returning the hug as the enormity of what had just happened hit her like a bag of bricks. "I know that was hard, Judy, but thank you for being brave enough to say it. I hope before Quinn and I leave you can be brave enough to tell her as well. She deserves to hear it."
"I will see if I can muster up the courage for that," Judy said, releasing Rachel from her hold.
"Good. I better get these back to Quinn before she turns into an ice sculpture." Slightly weirded out by the missed left turn at Albuquerque her night had taken, Rachel stooped to pick the quilts up and hustled back into her room before another relative could appear and scare the bejesus out of her. She heard Judy whisper 'good night' just as Quinn's bedroom door closed behind her.
Quinn was crying - finally - and trying to muffle the sounds with her pillow. Rachel heard them clearly though, each whimper and hitched breath like a blow to her stomach. She bit back her own tears, and quickly shook out the blankets. Quinn jumped when Rachel unfurled the first one over her quivering body. She layered the chilly quilts over Quinn and then crawled up on the bed. "Can I be the big spoon tonight?"
She plastered herself up against Quinn, reaching over and closing her smaller hand over her girlfriend's fist, holding on for dear life. At the contact the proverbial dam broke and Quinn started to sob in earnest, her whole body bucking with the effort. Rachel didn't shush her because she knew Quinn needed this. Instead she busied her lips with pale skin and hair, pressing achingly careful kisses in a random pattern as Quinn poured her heartache out on her pillow.
It took a while before her tears gave way to sniffles, and Rachel continued to hold her, temple now resting between elegant shoulder blades. She could hear the rapid thump of Quinn's heartbeat and feel her ragged breathing start to even out, until with one last deep inhale and hard exhale all the tension drained from her body and she went limp. Rachel stretched back out, kissing Quinn's ear softly - and a little sloppily - which made Quinn squirm and giggle tiredly. When she felt a squeeze to her fingers Rachel released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
"I'm so cold," Quinn mumbled. Rachel cuddled her closer and dropped her face to warm the crook of Quinn's neck. Cold she could deal with; cold she could fix.
Quinn shifted her shoulders slightly, a warning to Rachel who wiggled back to give her room to roll over. The singer could just make out the glitter of wet eyes when Quinn rolled to face her. Smiling sweetly she tucked one arm under her head and reached out with the other to cup Quinn's tear streaked cheek.
"I don't want to talk," Quinn said tiredly.
Rachel just rubbed her thumb in small circles and waited. She didn't have to for long. Quinn shuffled forward and wormed her way firmly into Rachel's bubble, sniffling and snuffling. She balled herself back up, ear to Rachel's chest as Rachel slipped her fingers into gold colored hair and began to sift through it, lightly tugging at the strands between her fingers over and over. Normally she would hum or sing something in moments like this, but it felt to her like it would be too much. Everything about their weekend had been dramatic, and here in the quiet they needed simple. She dropped her head and maneuvered her body until both she and Quinn were comfortably tangled together, keeping her hand at its task.
There were a couple of ways to get Quinn to open up. One was silence and patience. The other was to talk herself. Rachel closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Ryan had warned her, but she didn't know how else to help Quinn and she needed to help her.
When she opened her eyes again her vision was blurred, and this time she didn't try to fight it. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks and her lips trembled, so she pressed them into Quinn's hair and tugged her closer. "I feel so guilty."
"What?" Quinn's voice was rough, but the squeak came through loud and clear.
"I think I knew somehow, deep down, that you needed a friend, but you needed more than... more than someone to go shopping with. I didn't know about - about your past, but the clues... I should've paid more attention or tried harder."
"Rachel..."
"No. It's not fair, Quinn. You went through all of that alone and I can't believe that we all - that I ignored the signs. I wish I could've done more."
"I wouldn't have let you."
"It doesn't matter, because I know that. You were always so good at keeping everyone at arm's length. But now? I'm your girlfriend, I love you, desperately so, and I should've asked you."
"You don't need to feel guilty about it. If anything, I should have talked to you about it. I just don't know how."
"I can't - " Rachel gasped as her carefully maintained defenses fell, tears falling faster now. "I can't believe how he hurt you. My imagination is active as ever and I keep seeing you - little you - and it's breaking my heart."
Quinn shuddered, no longer as cold but still feeling so much, too much. She wasn't good at this, she'd never been good at talking. Always afraid that if she let somebody see, let them in, they'd leave. Her father had, after all. She'd loved him, trusted him, even forgiven him in some ways and he'd thrown her out like garbage - tainted, destroyed forever in his eyes. Unrecognizable. The thought of Rachel... losing Rachel would be too much.
But Rachel was holding on to her, so tightly it bordered on uncomfortable, and she could hear her crying as quietly as possible. Quinn couldn't stand it, and she knew that Rachel was asking for everything and yet nothing at all.
"I want to know why." Quinn said softly, barely breathing the sentence into Rachel's shirt. Her voice cracked on the last word and she loathed it, that stupid word that haunted her every time she thought of Russell. "That is the biggest question victims ask. Every case I've ever worked, we all just want to know why. I think, in some ways, my job - my life, it all comes down to wanting to know 'why'. I never asked him, and now I'll never be able to."
"Baby, sometimes... sometimes you don't want to hear their excuses." Rachel paused and licked her lips, hesitant because she wasn't sure if she was saying more than she should. "There is nothing he could say that would make what happened okay. You were a child, you were his child. Nothing justifies what he did."
"I know, but I still wanted to hear it. I wanted him to say it; I wanted to see his eyes." Needing to see Rachel's face, Quinn pushed gently against Rachel's shoulder and propped herself up on one arm. She couldn't quite find the courage to look into teary brown eyes, reaching up to play with the Star of David resting against Rachel's sternum instead. "You don't need to feel guilty. I should, for not saying anything all this time and then especially for staying silent when I knew coming back here would bring it back up."
Rachel stayed quiet, watching Quinn fiddle with her necklace. She kept running one hand through Quinn's hair, using the other to wipe at the tears still slowly trickling down her face. "You're so brave all the time; I've told you before, you don't have to be with me. I won't judge you, Quinn. I trust you; I want you to trust me too."
"I do, I really do. I just didn't want - I didn't want you to leave. It's not a happy topic or one that's easy to bring up and it's even harder to accept." Quinn heaved a sigh and forced her eyes up to Rachel's, tensing as she saw the tears. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before and - I'm sorry for this weekend."
"You don't need to apologize; you know that, don't you?" Rachel said. "They should be apologizing to you."
"That's never going to happen," Quinn snorted and slowly put her head back down on Rachel's stomach.
"It should, and your mom, Quinn... your mom, I think she has wanted to tell you how sorry she is for a long time. She's afraid of the same thing you are: that the moment the topic comes up you'll run and she'll never see you again. I'm not happy with her; I can't forgive her because I'm so angry for what she didn't do for you... but I'm not her daughter. She wants to talk to you, and if you can, I think you should." Rachel tried to smile and half-way succeeded, her fingers tracing around Quinn's ear.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Why did you want to come back for this funeral?"
Quinn played with the hem of Rachel's shirt, sneaking her fingertips underneath to feel warm skin. The silkiness was familiar and soothing. "To say goodbye, really say goodbye. I never actually said that to him, the night that he - that I went to live with Finn… And because my mom, she's still my mom, Rach. I missed her before. I still do."
A sympathy pang rang dully in Rachel's chest. She knew all too well what it was like to miss a parent. To wonder about them, wonder if they ever thought of the child they had no contact with.
Fresh tears welled and fell while Rachel did her best to constrict her throat around the whimper trying to escape. "Your mother loves you."
"She didn't even come up when I was shot."
God. The whimper got out that time. "Nobody wants to see… Quinn, you almost died and it...I couldn't – I can't - even imagine what it was like for her."
Unable to handle the thought of her girlfriend in that damned hospital bed with the breathing tube and the wires, Rachel tugged on Quinn's hand.
"She didn't even call," Quinn whispered as she obeyed Rachel's demand, scooting back up until the top of her head bumped the bottom of Rachel's chin.
"I was terrified. I barely ate, I didn't sleep, and sometimes I think I stopped breathing, that my heart stopped beating." Rachel confessed, her hand gently palming the back of Quinn's head. She tried to calm her racing pulse, sliding her other hand up and down Quinn's back, soaking in the feeling of Quinn's body stretched out on hers, and the way her chest pressed up into Quinn's when she managed a raggedy inhale. "Judy must've been paralyzed with fear. Not knowing if you were going to live, or if you would even accept her if she came running. She knows she let you down, and I can only imagine how awful it would be – to be trapped here and wait for a phone call when everything inside wants to be there with you."
"For someone who doesn't like her very much, you're doing a good job defending her."
"I'm not defending her," Rachel hissed, curling her hand into a fist at the base of Quinn's spine. "I'm defending you. You want your mother and I want you to have that. You can't get answers from your father, but you can get them from Judy."
The room tumbled into silence, punctuated only with the sounds of occasional sniffles as tears dried and minds swirled.
"I'm sorry."
Rachel shook her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
"You're always taking care of me and I feel like I'm never taking care of you."
Ducking her head awkwardly, Rachel kissed the top of Quinn's and basked in the faint scent of citrus. "You take care of me all the time. You make sure I eat. You call and check on me; you're always protecting me. You make me feel safe and loved and do all these little things that make me feel spoiled. I'm blessed to have you, Quinn. Doing things like this for you makes me feel like I'm doing my part too. Never be sorry for letting me do this."
"I'm glad you're here."
"Where else would I be but at your side?" Rachel asked and sighed at how lame that sounded in her own ears. No more old school romance films for me.
"Cheesy lady," Quinn snickered.
Rachel swatted at her playfully, "Hush, you."
"I love you, and your cheesy lines," Quinn assured her.
"As a vegan the idea of being 'cheesy' makes me a little ill. I appreciate that you didn't refer to me or them as 'nacho' cheesy. Heavily processed cheese is an abomination." Rachel cocked her head to catch a glimpse of the curve of Quinn's lips.
"I love you, and your vegan cheese substitute lines."
"That's better. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Rachel stayed awake awhile, even after Quinn fell back to sleep, hand still moving through silky blonde hair. She offered up a silent prayer that Judy would be a mother for once and talk to Quinn. If there was one thing she'd learned from her experiences, or inexperiences really, with Shelby, it was that children always needed their mother, no matter their age or the situation.
She closed her eyes against the pain those particular memories and thoughts caused, willing herself to keep from venturing down that long, twisty road so late (or early), and snuggled Quinn closer.
There'd be plenty of time for more family drama when they woke up.
TBC...