THREE MONTHS LATER
Quinn hates hospitals.
She doesn't like what it means to be there. She'll be walking through the pristine halls, like bleached tunnels, veins parched of blood and colour, and every face she sees, she wonders if they're dying. Or if somebody hurt them. Or if they're here to give up something precious. If they're being forced to. She knows she's not good at dealing with harsh realities. The other glee kids are excited to be here; they're not naïve, not all of them, but she can tell most of them are getting a real kick out of the idea that they might be able to lift someone's spirits – as if momentary happiness might affect the outcome of what's brought them here. Tina and Mike are smiling the whole bus ride in. Finn's got that far-off, content look on his face that he always gets when he's not straddling the line between what's right and what looks right, and just does the good thing. It's the first time she's seen him look remotely happy since Rachel broke up with him. Even Puck, who is one of the most realistic people she knows and who thinks optimism is stupidity, seems weirdly happy. They're all high on the idea of making a difference.
But Quinn is dreading this. It's not that she doesn't think they're doing a good thing – she really believes these kids will enjoy their performance, and after being cooped up in that gloomy place with nothing to think about but what's wrong with them, it'll be nice for them to meet some new people. But she knows she's going to feel like shit afterwards. Because no matter how upbeat these kids may be, a lot of them will never be as old as she is right now.
She looks around the bus. She's sitting by herself, because without Rachel – and don't even get her started on how bizarre it is that Berry isn't here for the attention-fix – there's an odd number of kids, and she's the one who ended up by herself. A year ago that would have pissed her off – two years ago it would never have happened. But right now, every one of her friends is better friends with someone else, and most of the club is scared of her anyway. She has no idea how to go about fixing it, because the truth is she's never had to make much of an effort to have friends before. Whether she was popular or languishing in the depths of loserdom, people had just always come to her. Maybe that's why things had gotten this bad in the first place – it never occurred to her that the glee club, who had liked her even though she once represented everything they fought against, who were there for her through the worst time in her life, who understood her lies and her selfishness and protected her anyway, could possibly drift away. If she'd ever had to fight for friends before, maybe she'd have realized there was something she should be doing here to keep them; maybe she'd have worked it out before the distance grew so big that she couldn't remember the last time she had a conversation alone with Mercedes, or hung out with Tina, or texted any of them outside of school. It's funny – for a girl who was once the queen of the social sphere, she's actually pretty socially inept. She doesn't know how to reach out.
Kurt and Blaine are sitting with their ankles tangled together, because they're basically incapable of not being nauseating. They remind her of Rachel, although there's no Finn in this equation, just two people equally into PDA and no self consciousness. It's less pathetic this way. Artie's just looking out the window as Puck listens to his i-pod with eyes closed. Quinn wonders what Artie thinks of all this – if anyone would know about hope or how kids feel about their own mortality, it would be him. She'd love to ask him, but they're not really close enough.
She's not really close enough with any of them anymore to have this conversation. How depressing is that? These people are meant to be her family.
'Alright guys, we're here!' Mr Schue says chipperly, standing up as the bus draws into the visitors' parking lot, and everyone starts to unfurl from their seats. 'We've got an introductory meeting with the nurse in charge, just to give us a bit of advice about how to do this. So we'll head off to the lobby and when that's done we'll make our way through the cancer ward.
They file slowly off the bus and as soon as her feet hit the ground, Quinn gets a faceful of faux-cheerful, modern, institutional buildings that cluster together to form the hospital. Lima Children's is a much nicer hospital than General, where she had her baby: it's all shiny new glass that lights up from the inside, and there are flowers all around, a bright necklace ringing the building as if they can make a hospital a pleasant place to be. Quinn thinks it's a bit patronizing, because nobody with a serious problem is going to look at this glittering exterior and suddenly think they have a shot.
They are met at the front doors by a chubby woman with fire engine red hair and beady blue eyes. She watches them from the time they hit the bottom of the pathway until they're standing right in front of her, and she rakes her eyes over each student with critical fascination. She's totally judging and she looks like a bitch. Why are all nurses bitchy? You'd think the nursing profession would be made up all of nice, sweet, accommodating people but in Quinn's experience, they're either on a power trip or too busy to be nice.
And for all they're meant to be impartial, she remembers clearly the way the nurses looked at her when she was in hospital after having Beth. They knew she was sixteen and giving her baby up for adoption, and while they spouted platitudes like 'it's a valid choice' and 'you're giving her the best life you can', she could see the disgust in their eyes because they didn't even try to hide it.
'Hi – Nurse Pattinson?' Mr Schue asks.
'That's right,' she says. 'Are you the McKinley High Glee club?'
'Yes we are,' he says proudly.
Her bitchy face breaks into a smile, and all of a sudden Quinn knows exactly why this woman is in charge of the kids with cancer, because that smile is incredible. It changes her whole face. Suddenly she looks like the sweetest person on earth, and even if she's a bitchy, judgy nurse, Quinn sees from that smile that she's probably a nice person.
'It's wonderful to have you here!' she gushes. 'Thank you so much for coming. Follow me into the lobby and we'll just go over some things before you see the kids.'
'Awesome. Come on, guys.'
'That nurse is kind of hot,' she hears Puck whisper to Artie, and she rolls her eyes.
A few minutes later, they're seated around a coffee table in the lobby and Nurse Pattinson is standing in front of them with her hands woven together. She's back to looking bitchy, but Quinn's pretty sure that's just her resting face.
'First of all, I would like to say we really appreciate your offer to come and entertain our kids,' she says, and Quinn can tell she's sincere. 'We do our best to keep them entertained, but ultimately they do get a bit bored and it's always great to break up their routine a bit. It's a lot easier to stay positive when there are still surprises to look forward to, and it's also great when people who aren't affiliated with the hospital come and see them because they all really love staying connected to the rest of the world.'
'It's our pleasure.'
Quinn's surprised when Finn says it instead of Mr Schue, but she looks over and sees by his face that he's already affected by Nurse Pattinson's speech. He's such a marshmallow. He catches her eye and gives her that adorable crooked smile, and she can't help it. She smiles back. She knows he doesn't have feelings for her anymore, but it's nice to know that when he catches her eyes he'll smile instead of looking away.
'Thank you, young man,' Nurse Pattinson says. 'Now, I know that some of you will have no experience with cancer or serious or terminal illnesses, and there are others who will have varying degrees of experience. No two people will have the same reaction when they are around children who are sick, just as no two children react the same way to being sick. It can be very emotional, either while you are here or afterwards, when you have time to really think about it. It can be upsetting, but it is our hope that you will also find it rewarding. We don't want to tell you how to feel, but we recommend to all school groups that you discuss your visit here as a class when you go back to school in order to sort through your feelings, because it would be a shame for you to come away with nothing but sadness when there is so much to be gained from talking with these children and learning about what they go through.'
They all listen in silence. Everyone's faces are very serious. It seems to be hitting some of them at last that they don't really have a lot of control over what is going to happen. They might be meeting kids who would soon be dead. Quinn looks over at Artie again. He is listening to Nurse Pattinson intently.
'Some of these children,' she says gently, 'will look very sick. Some have complete hair loss, while others are beginning to lose their hair. Others have physical deformities or traumatic surgical scars. Some appear very fragile and tired. Others may seem, on the outside, to be completely healthy. Of course, these kids are all at different stages in their illnesses and are undergoing different treatments, but their appearance isn't always an accurate reflection of this. They're all in different emotional states, and someone who is in their first round of treatment for an early detected cancer with an excellent prognosis may in fact be more depressed or angry than someone who knows they are going to die. They may or may not bring up their illnesses with you, but if they do, it's important you don't try and trivialize their situation. Whatever they are going through, if they talk to you about it, they need you to be understanding. Don't say 'you'll be fine' or 'don't worry about it'. The best thing to do is listen and keep them talking. We don't expect you to counsel them, but most of these kids are aware of what is happening to them and they will appreciate your questions and your interest. If you feel like you can't handle the conversation, please feel free to call a nurse to come and help direct you, but try not to dismiss the discussion because you are feeling overwhelmed, because these kids remember every time they talk to a person about their cancer, and every time someone reacts with fear or discomfort it changes the way they will talk to the next person. Before we go up, I need to know if any of you feel you can't handle it. There's absolutely no shame in it, because it's a confronting thing, but if you feel now that you aren't up to it, I can take you to the lounge area and you can wait there until we're done.'
She pauses, but no one speaks up. Quinn's not surprised – she half feels like running right now, but no way is she letting everyone else know how scared she is.
'Alright. If any of you change your mind on the way up, feel free to tap me on the shoulder and when we get the lounge I will take you out discreetly.'
'Some of the kids might joke about their illnesses, and it's fine to laugh with them. A sense of humour is one of the greatest things to keep in a situation like this. And don't worry too much – most of the time you'll just be talking like two regular people, but I want to prepare you for the possibilities of discussing sensitive issues.'
'One last thing. This is a children's hospital, but you will be meeting patients from the ages of two to seventeen. Remember, the older kids expect you to treat them just like another person your age. It's often a very valuable part of the visit to talk to these kids, because they are usually willing to talk openly about their situation and they understand that it is a new experience on your part as well.'
'Any questions?'
'Will we be able to come back and visit them if we want to?' asks Puck. Mr Schue looks like he's about to cry, and he squeezes Puck's shoulder.
He'd always had a soft spot for kids.
Nurse Pattinson looks pleased.
'During visiting hours, absolutely. Now… are we ready to go?'
'I think we are,' Mr Schue says bracingly. Quinn's not so sure, but they can't sit here working up courage forever. Better to just jump off the cliff.
'Okay then!' she says briskly. 'Follow me. We'll have you perform in the paediatrics lounge first, and then you can have a while to chat to the kids and play with them… then we'll have lunch and we can visit some of the kids who are too sick to leave their rooms.'
They all get up to follow her through the corridor and up some stairs. Quinn's mouth is dry. She was always good with kids – she loved spending time with Sam's little brother and sister, and she'd babysat heaps. But she has no idea how she was going to deal with these kids. She is good at playing house and reading books with funny voices! She doesn't know how to talk to a kid about dying! She doesn't even know how to look at a dying kid. She doesn't even like to think about dying kids.
The other kids group together. Blaine and Kurt, Tina and Mike, Santana and Brittany, Finn and Puck, Artie and Mercedes. She kind of wishes Sam was here – he'd always thought she was amazing, even when she was a heinous bitch. She misses that. She even kind of misses Berry right now, because if that girl saw her walking by herself she'd be chatting in her ear a mile a minute, and even that would be better than being the odd one out.
They reach a set of massive green double doors, and Nurse Pattinson pushes them open.
' – a big round of applause!'
Whoops and catcalls and the sound of clapping meets them. Quinn's heart starts pounding.
The room is filled with people – three big sofas arranged around a cluster of little round tables, filled with kids. Adults in casual clothing stand around with kids in their arms – parents, she guesses, while other children are held by nurses in bright pink and blue and yellow scrubs. Kids in pyjamas, in dressing gowns, in hospital gowns, in jeans and t-shirts, in scrubs like the nurses wore – one little boy in a Superman costume. And they are all clapping for them, cheering. They look so excited.
'William McKinley High School's Glee club, everybody – the New Directions!'
One of the nurses at the back yells an introduction for them. Quinn stands with her mouth open, frozen, until she feels an arm go around her waist and she sees everyone around her was bowing, so she bends at the waist too. Kurt does a funny flourish with his hands and a couple of the kids giggle behind their hands.
'We're going to go straight into it,' Tina hisses into Quinn's ear, and she nods, taking a deep breath as she takes her place next to Mercedes in the line for their first song.
The applause dies out and Mr Schue holds a hand up, indicating for them to stay quiet for a minute for dramatic affect. Then he punches the air – one, two, three, four –
'Oh wop bop ba noo ma!' yells Finn.
'Oh wop bam boo!' shouts the rest, and then Blaine, Kurt and Mike start on their acapella accompaniment –da da na da da na, da da na da da na, da da na da da na NAH.
'We go to-GETHER, like rama lama lama ke ding a de dinga a dong!' sing Artie and Tina, leaning forward in the line up. The kids start cheering again.
'Remembered for-EVER, like shoo wop shoo wadda wadda yippity boom de boom…'
#
It turns out that some kids go crazy for Grease. A little Chinese girl with a fuzzy cap of black hair and the biggest, wettest brown eyes Quinn's ever seen idolizes Olivia Newton John and when they're finished performing We Go Together she lets out an ear-splitting scream of joy and lunges at Quinn, wrapping her arms so tightly around her waist that it actually hurts. Her parents, a couple sitting on the floor, burst into laughter and everyone applauds as Quinn kisses the top of her head. The girl is freaking adorable and Quinn can totally handle her because she doesn't even seem very sick.
When the girl is done squeezing the life out of her in expression of her overwhelming gratitude, she takes Quinn's hand and pulls her over to her mom and dad as the rest of the club spreads out amongst the kids. As they approach, Quinn looks at their faces and they smile at her. They don't seem sad or worried, just head over heels for their insanely cute and tiny daughter, and she thinks she might be lucky – this girl is obviously one of the healthier ones.
'This is my parents,' the little girl says, and Quinn looks down in surprise. The girl's voice, which reached such a bat-sonar level when she screamed, is hoarse and unnaturally deep when she speaks.
'I'm Quinn,' she says, recovering quickly. 'It's nice to meet you. And what's your name, missy?'
'Penny,' she says cheerfully. 'I'm six.'
And she sounds like a lumberjack.
'And you're a Grease fan, are you?' asks Quinn, letting Penny pull her down to the floor to sit with her parents.
'I love Grease,' she says earnestly, thumping her knees with her palms. Her mother, looking at her fondly, reaches across and presses her hands flat against them, a calm down gesture.
'What's your favourite song?' she asks, grinning. She can't help it. This little girl makes her want to smile.
'I like You're The One That I Want… 'cause I like it when Danny Zuko says 'it's ELECTRIFYING!'
She shrieks the last word, and her odd voice cracks, but she throws her head back and does the Danny Zuko shiver and it's so funny that Quinn can't stop laughing until Penny looks a little insulted.
'That was awesome,' she says quickly. 'Can I have a high five?'
'Sure!'
They high five, and then Penny wants Quinn and her mom to have a high five, and Quinn and her dad, and then her mom and dad, which turns into her mom and dad kissing, which makes Penny shout 'eww!' with a look of such total disgust on her face that they might have been having sex right on the paediatric lounge floor. She springs up from the ground and grabs Quinn's hand. Penny's feels warm and smooth and little, but her grip is strong.
'Let's go visit my friend,' she commands, and Quinn scrambles to get off the floor before her arm is pulled out of its socket. Penny leads her through the lounge, which is enormous, and there are people spread out everywhere. She passes Mercedes, who is talking with a girl who must only be a couple of years younger than them and looks fine, but she's wearing a hospital gown and has an IV stand next to her which is pumping something clear into her arm. She sees Mr Schue trying to crawl through a plastic cubby house on his knees, at the urging of two little boys who look so gleeful that she knows they're doing it purely for the fun of seeing his butt stick out of the doorway. And then Penny stops in front of a chubby boy with a mop of straw coloured hair and vivid freckles on his nose, who is sitting at a small table with Puck and a pretty teenage girl dressed in regular clothes.
'This is Robert,' says Penny, and the little boy waves. Quinn sees Puck's eyes go wide for a second when he hears Penny's unusual voice.
'Hi, Robert. I'm Quinn,' she says, kneeling down at the table with Penny. 'Puck, this is my new friend Penny.'
'Nice to meet you,' says Puck, ducking his head in a mock bow. He's good with little girls (well, all girls, but little girls in particular), because he's spent years taking care of his sister while his mom does night shifts, and Penny looks immediately enamoured.
'Hi, Penny,' says the girl sitting next to Puck, looking amused. Penny ignores her and Puck grins.
'I'm Claudia,' the girl says, looking at Quinn. Then she leans past Puck and whispers 'Robert has a crush on me and Penny isn't very happy about it.'
Quinn watches as Penny, who is something of a vixen, sits close to Robert and stares at the side of his head until he has no choice but to look at her, when she gives him a blinding smile. He looks distinctly uncomfortable and leans back a little. Quinn struggles not to laugh and by their twitching mouths she can tell Puck and Claudia are having a hard time too.
Penny gets fed up waiting for Robert to smile back and turns to Quinn.
'Robert is my boyfriend,' she announces, and Robert's mouth drops open. It's obviously news to him. His eyes are wide and his cheeks go brilliantly red, but he doesn't embarrass her by contradicting it, and Quinn feels a new respect for the little boy, who looks worriedly at Claudia.
'That's nice, Penny,' Quinn says, and tries to change the subject. 'So do you guys like to sing?'
'Penny does a great Barry Manilow impression,' Claudia offers helpfully, and Penny's face lights up. Quinn thinks it's amazing this little girl isn't embarrassed about her voice; she's almost eighteen years old and she still tries to hide the things that make her different.
'I do funny singing, though,' she says solemnly. 'I want to be able to sing like –'
'Do Copacobana, Pen,' interrupts Claudia enthusiastically. Penny launches into a croaky, hilarious rendition of the song and Quinn wonders if Claudia was trying to stop her saying she wished she could sing like her, because she sure didn't want her to finish that sentence. Maybe she's shy about her voice. Or maybe Quinn's off base, because Penny is glaring at her head whenever Robert sneaks a glance and she gets the feeling she isn't in the mood to be saying anything nice about Claudia. After a while Penny and Robert get bored of the older kids and run off to play with someone else; it appears that no matter how uncomfortable Penny makes Robert or how much he adores Claudia, they eventually tire of talking and go to find something more fun to do together. Watching them squeal over a portable train set, Quinn sees Tina duck out of the lounge with tears in her eyes, and she looks down. She feels like she should go and comfort her friend, though she doesn't know what happened. But she doesn't know what to say.
'So Puck here tells me you guys used to date.'
She starts and turns back to the table – Claudia's talking to her. Quinn looks at Puck with her eyebrows raised. He chuckles.
'She asked if I had any ex-girlfriends in the room.'
'Don't worry,' Claudia grinned. 'He pointed out the others, too. And told me he dated your missing member, as well. Your friend seems to think he's going to impress me by proving he's a man whore.'
'Who says I'm trying to impress you?' Puck says indignantly, but there's a twinkle in his eye and Quinn can tell he's thinking this girl is pretty cool.
'A girl knows these things,' shrugs Claudia.
She's very pretty. Pale, with big, startlingly blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair that falls in a blunt fringe and waves down her back. There's something unusual and pure about her face. She looks really good in a long sleeved green top and jeans. Quinn's curious.
'Do you mind if I ask,' she begins, and feels awkward as soon as the words have left her mouth. But Claudia clearly realizes what she wants to know, and pats Quinn's hand.
'It's okay, I'd be curious too. I do look a bit too fabulous to be a cancer patient,' she smirks. 'Although we do get a bad rep. In reality we're the most fabulous patients of them all. But in answer to your question, I have chronic myeloid leukemia – CML. I finished chemo a few weeks ago but I got a pretty bad infection so I've been in here for a while. I'm actually probably going home this afternoon, but I wanted to stay and see the performance.'
'You look amazing,' says Quinn, and she means it. This girl is a knockout and she kind of gets even more beautiful the more you look at her.
'Thanks,' Claudia says, looking pleased. 'It looks real, right?'
'What looks real?'
The girl reaches up, slides her fingers across her scalp and lifts. To Quinn's shock, that blunt fringe and those strawberry blonde waves all move up a couple of inches – Claudia is bald. That's why her face seems unusual – she doesn't have any eyelashes, and her eyebrows are drawn on.
'You're wearing a wig!' says Puck, looking stunned.
'Yup,' she says, slipping it back into place. 'My real hair is… well, was… light brown. And it used to go blonde in the summer. But I always really liked this colour, so when I had the chance…' She looks at Puck and gives him a mischievous smile. 'Still think I'm hot?'
'I never said you were hot,' he answers, but can't keep a straight face. He laughs. 'But I guess you read my mind. Yeah, I do. Not many girls can pull off the V for Vendetta look, but on you I like it.'
Claudia beams, and Quinn gets the feeling that despite this girl's confidence, she would probably never reveal her wig outside the safety of the cancer ward, where everyone knows she's sick anyway, and that Puck's attention probably means a lot more to her than he realizes.
#
It's amazing. These kids are really just kids. Quinn spends time with a little boy called Oliver who has a plum purple melanoma like spilled wine right across his forehead, and he tells her to call him Inkface, and goes on to describe the superpowers he derives from the mark on his face: flying, invisibility, and squirting people in the face with ink.
She talks to another boy named Derek, who looks about eleven or twelve, who is dressed in a hospital gown and has absolutely no hair. His twin, Kent, sits beside him, and so she can see exactly what he looked like when he did have hair, because his former self is sitting right next to him. He starts telling her all about the tumours in his lungs before she can even tell him her name, and whenever he forgets something or leaves out a detail, Kent jumps right in and corrects him. And once they've exhausted all the details of that, they talk about the Cubs.
#
And then the glee club has lunch.
'I never want to leave,' grins Mercedes. They're all sitting in the cafeteria eating crappy hospital sandwiches, talking about the kids. 'I want to stay here and adopt each and every one of them.'
'They're so sweet,' says Tina. She's not crying anymore, but she doesn't look happy. 'And so brave. I was talking to this little girl, Alice – she has a 5% chance of survival, and she was laughing and smiling.'
'I got asked to sing at Jake's funeral,' says Kurt sadly, and everyone looks at him. 'He's fourteen years old and he says he would like me to sing Blackbird at his funeral. Because he's pretty sure he'll die before I leave for college.'
Quinn has no idea what to say to that, and she can tell nobody else does either. She's almost angry at Kurt. Why couldn't he just let them talk about how great the kids were without bringing that up?
After a long pause, Finn speaks.
'I can't believe the way they talk about death,' he says lowly. 'They seem so calm. I can't imagine being that calm.'
'I know,' says Puck. 'Or the way they laugh about having no hair, even. The way Inkface digs his melanoma.'
'You know he doesn't really, right?' asks Santana. 'He hates it. He must hate it.'
'Probably. But still.'
Quinn has nothing to contribute to this conversation. She realizes that somehow, she has managed to survive the day without really talking about death. In a cancer ward. Is everybody else just asking different questions to her, or can these kids sense that she might not be strong enough to talk about it? Or maybe they can tell she just doesn't have anything to offer. She can see why they'd talk about death with Kurt, or Finn, or Mercedes, even Puck. They're great listeners, and they might find it hard but she knows they'd think of something to say. But she knows she would freeze up, and maybe these kids know that too. She's always been beautiful, but maybe the coward in her is starting to show on the outside too.
#
After lunch, they visit kids in their rooms. The really sick ones.
'We'll see if they'd like you to sing for them,' said Nurse Pattinson, as she took them down another corridor, which was lined with doors. 'They might not be up for it, but we can still pop in and say hi. Just be careful around the machinery.'
She comes up to a door and knocks.
'Ellie?' she calls. 'Can we come in? The McKinley High glee club wants to say hello to you.'
'Okay!'
A tiny voice – a voice that could only belong to a small girl – comes through the door, and Nurse Pattinson beckons them inside.
Lying on a hospital bed in the middle of the room is Beth. What Quinn imagines Beth will look like when she's older, anyway. She's very little, with dewy fair skin and big brown eyes; and she has blonde curls that still seem to have that baby softness to them. Chubby cheeks and a button nose; the cutest little pout. The only thing wrong is that this little girl doesn't rise from the pillows when they come in, and she has tubes up her nose, and there are awful dark circles under her eyes. She looks about four.
'Hello, Smelly Ellie,' says Nurse Pattinson cheerfully. 'Where's your mommy got to?'
'She's getting a sandwich. Not for me,' says Ellie, in a plummy British accent. It's adorable. 'Because I'm not allowed to have sandwiches.'
'That's right, good girl. Ellie, these kids are called New Directions. They're a singing club. Would you like them to sing for you?'
'Yes, please.'
Quinn swallows. This little girl makes her heart hurt. It's not normal for kids to lie so flat while they're talking. Ellie can't even lift her head. She wonders what's wrong with her.
She looks at the others and sees eyes either wet or on the ground.
'Let's sing Tiny Dancer,' she suggests, and the others smile.
#
Ellie falls asleep suddenly, right in the middle of the song.
'Don't be offended,' says Nurse Pattinson, closing the door behind them. 'She's on a lot of medication so it's hard for her to stay awake.'
'Of course,' says Mr Schue. His face looks tight and sad.
Quinn gets it. They don't know exactly what that little girl has, but it's heartbreaking to see a kid so beaten down.
They move down the hallway to the next door. There's a yellow tag hanging from the doorknob.
'Oh,' says Nurse Pattinson. 'That's a 'do not disturb tag'. We should just…' she seems to hesitate, and then she sighs. 'Hang on.'
She opens the door, but she doesn't beckon the others inside; she slips her head in, keeping the patient out of view.
'Honey, are you sure you don't want to see them?' she asks. There's no reply, but whoever's in the room must have nodded or something, because she straightens and closes the door again, and Quinn doesn't understand the expression on her face. She looks almost frustrated.
'Okay, next room,' she says briskly, and they move on.
They see four more kids. The rest are either sleeping, too sick or have yellow tags on their doors (there are three of those, including the one Nurse Pattinson tried to convince to let them in, but she doesn't do that with anyone else). It's not too bad – these kids seem a bit weaker, a bit paler, a bit more tired. But it's not too bad. They still smile when they come into their rooms. Her mom used to say that you're still alive as long as you're smiling.
#
When they're done, Nurse Pattinson takes them back to the paediatrics lounge to say goodbye to the kids. Quinn hugs Inkface and lets him rub his melanoma against her forehead. She feels like a bad person for calling him Inkface in her head, but that is what he asked her to do, so she guesses it's alright. She's looking for Penny when Claudia comes up to her.
'Hey, Quinn,' she greets.
'Hey,' Quinn smiles. She likes Claudia. Maybe because for whatever reason, Claudia seems to like her. A lot of girls don't.
She holds out a small slip of paper to Quinn.
'I was wondering if you'd give Puck my phone number,' she says, grinning.
Quinn laughs.
'Why don't you give it to him yourself?'
'Well… I'm pretty sure he likes me, but you can never really tell in here if somebody likes you or if they just feel sorry for you,' Claudia says, and for the first time Quinn sees this girl is a lot like her. Pretending to be confident. 'This way if he doesn't want to call me, he won't have to remember my face when I asked him to.'
She doesn't know what to say. She would never be so selfless. She knows – when her life sucks, she gets angry. All these kids are just… accepting. She's sure some of them are angry, but they seem to hold on to their composure during the day and that's more than she ever managed to do while she was pregnant. And she knows that if it were her right now, sick and bald, she would be looking as pitiful as possible, trying to guilt him into it. But Claudia is a better person.
'Puck's a good guy,' says Quinn finally. 'He wouldn't call you just because you're sick. And I can tell he really does like you. So keep your phone turned on.'
Claudia smiles and they hug.
'I – could I come back and visit you?' Quinn asks. She means it. She thinks they could make good friends.
'I'm leaving, remember?' says Claudia.
'Oh. Yeah.'
'But we should get coffee some time.'
'I'd like that,' she says happily. She looks around. Everywhere, the glee kids are hugging the patients, or talking to their parents. But she doesn't see –
'Are you looking for Penny?'
Quinn looks back and sees that Claudia was watching her.
'Yeah. I wanted to say goodbye.'
'She's a gorgeous kid. I've known her for two years now. She's actually one of my best friends.'
She raises her eyebrows. 'I thought – Penny didn't really seem to like you.'
'She's jealous that Robert has a crush on me. She thinks that boy hangs the moon. But she'll get over it. I know it's kind of weird, being best friends with a six year old, but age doesn't matter as much in here.' To Quinn's surprise, her eyes start to look wet. 'I still kind of… can't believe she's not going to be around.'
'What?'
Quinn's heart starts thudding painfully in her chest. Claudia stares at her, and for a moment they are mutually incomprehensible to each other. Quinn doesn't understand what Claudia is trying to say, but her body does, because she feels like throwing up. Claudia doesn't understand why Quinn looks so stunned. And then she does, and they do, and Claudia looks like she wants to run away but she's too brave not to tell Quinn the truth.
'Oh, my God. I'm sorry… nobody told you.' She touches Quinn's shoulder. 'Penny has oesophageal cancer, tumours in her throat. That's why her voice is all deep and croaky like that. You can't take out someone's oesophagus. It's pretty advanced. Her prognosis is only a few more months.'
The pounding of her heart reverberates in her head. Her ears are roaring.
Penny is going to die.
Claudia looks stricken – she can tell Quinn was not prepared. She thought Penny was going to be fine.
She can't be here.
'Quinn, I'm sorry –'
She runs.
She can't get the image of Penny out of her mind – that cap of jet black hair, those enormous eyes. Her obsession with Grease, that adoring way she looked at Robert. She seemed so alive. She wants to get that face out of her head, because she cannot breathe. She knocks Artie on the shoulder as she moves past him, and she sees him look up – and look concerned.
'Quinn, are you okay?'
She ignores him and strides past, eyes burning with tears. She knew it; she fucking knew the day was going to end like this. She was weak. She couldn't handle it; she couldn't handle strange kids dying. God knows how she'd deal with it if it was someone she knew.
Vision blurring wet, she opens the first door she finds and lurches inside, slamming it behind her. Closing her eyes, she leans against it, breathing heavily. The image of Penny is flashing in her mind, along with the image of a tiny baby and and the little girl who looks just like Beth.
She hears a rustle.
Fuck. She's just walked into some patient's room.
She opens her eyes in dread. 'I'm so sorry –'
Her words trail off.
There's a girl lying on the hospital bed. She's facing away from Quinn, curled up on her side with her hair over her face, but it's familiar hair; thick, dark, long. Something about how short she is, and the almost-olive skin of her bare feet, which she can see peeking out from the bottom of the screwed up sheet… she could swear…
Staring at the girl, trying to breathe normally, Quinn walks slowly around the bed, and when she sees the face, she gasps.
It's Rachel.
She must have cried herself to sleep, because there are tear tracks running horizontally from her eyes down her cheeks. She is pale as hell, and skinny, and there are nasty dark circles under her eyes, the kind you can't get from staying awake a week straight. The kind you only get when you're pretty damn sick. Quinn's body is pumping with adrenaline; she feels like she's just escaped from a serial killer or something.
Rachel's in the hospital?
Rachel has cancer?
Breathing hard, she looks around the room. There's a steady beeping sound coming from a machine behind the bed that she's pretty sure is a heart rate monitor; glowing numbers fill a big black screen. There's a bag of blood hooked up to an IV stand that's connected to Rachel by a plastic tube going into her arm; there's a clunky white box on a stand next to the bed that's hooked up to her too.
Rachel has cancer.
And for the second time in about five minutes, Quinn runs away from knowledge that scares her. She's not crying anymore. She's too shocked. She can barely even think. She strides over to the door and opens it, and she's just closed it again behind her when Artie appears and he's looking at her with such worry and understanding, which is weird, because they've never been close. But today he's everywhere.
'Quinn, are you alright?' he asks.
'I'm fine. Let's go.'
A/N: Thank you everyone for the reviews, favourites and alerts! I know this chapter was different, but Quinn has an interesting part to play in this story and I intend to play with flash forwards and flash backs a bit. There are also other characters whose perspectives I will be using.