It is quiet, too quiet, and the only noise being made is the racket in Rachel's head; the voices she hears every night yelling at her, calling her worthless, saying you little bitch, you dirty whore. Such frightening, threatening, loud voices.
The eerie quiet makes sense; it is four in the morning. The rest of the neighborhood is sleeping and the birds are hiding away all safe in their nests, and the crickets are silently waiting for dawn to approach.
In the Berry home, there is not a soul awake, none except Rachel, or so she thinks until she tiptoes her way downstairs and hears the television playing in the living room. Her dads are cuddling on the couch, their eyes wide open, cups of steaming hot chocolate sitting at the foot of the couch.
They look up when she makes her presence known, her footsteps louder now that she knows her dads are not sleeping. "Hi, tiny dancer," her Daddy greets her, scooting over towards the other side of the couch and patting the now empty spot in between him and her Dad.
She is hesitant to take a seat because they are both looking at her with such worry and she knows that they know something is wrong and they will not hesitate to ask her about it. She does not want to talk. She does not want to listen to what they have to say about how it will all get better with time because it won't. It hasn't yet and it has been three years since she left that foster home and she thinks if she were going to get over it, she should have been over it a long time ago.
Maybe there is no moving on, no letting go. How can she let go when she has no closure? She knows she can find her mom, she knows she can find closure if she seeks closure out (closure being her mother because she is the only one who can alleviate any of Rachel's pain and finally put her heart and soul at ease), but she is too afraid, afraid that her mother will not want anything to do with her (not that she would even stay in contact if her mother were to ever ask her to because her mother does not deserve a single ounce of her time) and will still be the messed up woman she was when Rachel was taken from her.
She doesn't even want to see her mother, and why should she want to? Her mother has never done any good for her; she has brought more blood and tears into Rachel's life than smiles and laughter, like mothers should.
"That Quinn girl seems very nice," her Dad says, trying to coax her to sit down and she thinks it may actually be working which does not surprise her because her Dad has a way of calming her down like no other.
"She is," she replies, moving closer to the couch and within seconds, she is seated in between her dads, their arms wrapping around her instantly. She does not care nor does she mind that they are holding onto her because she, Dad, and Daddy used to do this all of the time when she first moved into their home and she finds herself missing it, missing them.
Her first few months in the house she had pushed them away and then she had finally started to let them in and now she has begun to push them away again. The thought causes her to feel guilty because all they have ever done is try to be there for her and they deserve to be treated with the kindness and respect they have constantly treated her with since they adopted her those three years earlier.
"So, what's the deal with you two, huh?" her Daddy asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. She knows that look; it is his 'i'm-going-to-bombard-you-with-questions-and-then-embarrass-the-hell-out-of-you-until-you-turn-fifty-shades-of-red' look. "You seem to be spending a lot of time with her. You know Dad and I don't care about your sexual preferences right? So you go on ahead and date her if that is what you want, and I know that is what you want because I see the way you look at her. You look at her in the same way I look at your Dad."
Her Dad reaches behind Rachel and lightly brushes his fingers along her Daddy's pajama-clad arm and Rachel cannot hide her smile in response to them acting so sweetly with each other. The relationship they have is love at its finest; she has never seen two people more in love.
"You know I don't approve of your father's way of teasing you mercilessly, but I must say I am curious myself of your booming relationship with that sweet, blonde girl," her Dad states seriously. Normally, he would be derailing his husband from any conversation that appears to make Rachel uncomfortable, but apparently, this conversation is too juicy to pass up. Just her luck.
"I-I-I," Rachel stammers, finding herself unable to form a coherent sentence which is rather annoying because she is typically great with words (her first few months in the house she was closer to Dad and he tends to have a very fancy vocabulary, so she easily picked up on it), but she is not sure how to describe what she has with Quinn... if she has anything at all with her, that is, because she pulled away when they shared a kiss.
She regrets having pulled away. She regrets having put any distance between herself and Quinn's perfect lips, lips she has been thinking of since day one when Quinn asked her to join a silly little club that she did not think she would love as much as she does.
"I like her," Rachel admits slowly. "It scares me how much, actually, because I spend every moment of every day thinking of her when she is not around and when she is around, I seem to be unable to focus on anyone else who is in the room. She is funny, intellectual, brave, and beautiful from the inside out. She does not allow many people to see it and I do not believe that a lot of our classmates believe her to be kind and beautiful inside because of how nasty she treats some of the students, but the way she presents herself is the way she is told to present herself. She has set up a pretense and it would be silly of her to break the pretense now after so many years, but I know that is not who she truly is. I have seen her at her kindest. I see the way that she cares for our fellow glee club members and she has this way of being there when I need someone to be there.
"I don't know how she does it, but she does and I find myself wanting to return the favor... needing to return the favor." She pauses, trying to catch her breath. She has not spoken so quickly in ages, but she has a tendency to grow more passionate when talking of someone she cares deeply for, and it is true that she cares very much for Quinn.
"Why don't you tell her that, honey?" Dad asks. "She deserves to know how you make her feel and you deserve to be happy. Let yourself be happy, dear, and tell her. What is keeping you from being honest with her?"
She looks down, focusing anywhere but on the faces of her dads. She knows that her silence has alerted them to the reason why she has not said anything, a reason that is obvious to anyone who knows the truth of her ugly past. Her dads know the worst of it, so they understand more, but they cannot truly understand because they aren't the ones who lived it and continue to live with it every day because even though it is over and no one can hurt her anymore, it still affects her life.
"Dad, Daddy, she cannot know. No one can who does not know already know," she answers, playing with the hem of her nightshirt. Her chest feels heavy. "Does being unable to share my past with everyone I care for make me a bad person?" she asks meekly, not looking at either one of her fathers. "I want to learn to trust my friends. Sam has been nothing but nice to me since we first met and... Did you know he used to have feelings for me? Romantic feelings?"
Her dads do not look surprised by her words, so she takes their lack of response as a yes. "If I were normal, I know I would have felt the same towards him and if I were normal, I would probably even be Samuel's girlfriend right now. He is a wonderful human being and his heart is full of love and compassion. He is driven and talented; everything that would interest me if I could allow myself to feel anything toward a man, but I can't because I can only associate men with," she pauses, "with..."
She swallows the lump that has formed in her throat. She stands. "I am terribly exhausted, so I think I am going to try and get some more sleep," she sighs, and it is a sad sound. "I love you both very much and thank you for listening to me ramble at such an awful hour in the morning to be listening to someone talk so much." Her fathers laugh, but she is not stupid; the laughs are forced and they are scared for her. "Goodnight," she finishes before turning and making her way back up the stairs.
She hears them call "I love you" after she reaches the top of the stairs and she smiles a terribly sad smile before entering her room. She is aware that sleeping is out of the question, but if worse comes to worse, there is always her music to keep her sane until the sun rises.
Rachel is being extremely silent, which is unusual, and Puck is kicking the back of her chair, but she is trying to ignore him because the last thing she wants to do is get sent to Principal Figgins' office for kneeing Puck in the groin so hard that he will be prevented from ever creating a child with his nasty sperm.
"Today, we are going to start preparing ourselves for Sectionals," are the first words out of Mr. Schue's mouth the moment he enters the choir room.
All conversations end at the words. She isn't surprised because the one thing that manages to shut up the entire glee club is talk of Sectionals, of any sort of competition. She likes the time around Sectionals, Regionals, and Nationals because these are the times when all the petty bullshit does not matter; all the break-ups, the damaged friendships, and the usual drama of high school does not matter anymore. Not in this room.
"Rachel, I want you to choose a solo," Mr. Schue tells Rachel. Quinn glance at the brunette, who looks nervous all of the sudden, which is not surprising because as far as Quinn knows, Rachel has never done this before. Quinn smiles reassuringly at her, letting her know that she will be there to help in any way that she can, but she knows deep down that Rachel does not need the help. She is spectacular, an artist in her own very special right.
"Yes, Mr. Schue," Rachel says professionally; almost too professionally, like she is speaking to an interviewer or someone who is deciding her fate. Don't think that is adorable, don't think that is adorable, Quinn's mental voice repeats over and over in her head, but fuck, that is soooo adorable. She thinks Rachel is adorable.
Girl, you got it bad. She shakes her head at herself. Yeah, tell me about it.
"Mercedes and Sam, the two of you are singing a duet." Quinn smirks as she looks at the two. Sam's cheeks are as red as tomatoes and Mercedes is smiling shyly, which is a sight to see because Mercedes and shy just do not mix. She has a feeling about those two; they will definitely end up together.
"I want Puck to sing with Rachel." Puck leers at Rachel and Quinn is half-tempted to reach back and smack him so hard across the face that his head goes rolling, but she breathes in deeply and exhales quietly, forcing herself to stay calm. Puck is a womanizer, she has to remind herself of that, and he may be a jackass, but just because he leers does not mean he will plan a "Puckerone attack" on the girl that she has accepted is the girl of her dreams.
Rachel raises her hand and Quinn raises an eyebrow, her eyes never leaving Rachel as Mr. Schuester acknowledges her raised hand.
"Yes, Rachel?" He sounds annoyed, which makes Quinn want to slap him, too, because no one gets to treat Rachel such a way, but she has a feeling smacking her teacher would probably not be the smartest move she has ever made.
Besides, she knows how Mr. Schue gets around this time of year; he is always testy.
"Is there a possibility that you can rethink my singing a duet with Noah for Sectionals?" Quinn frowns. She knows that Puck can be intimidating at times, but he is in no way all bad. Her gaze falls on Puck and she swears she is dreaming, but he looks a little offended and slightly disappointed. Weird. One would think he has a soft spot for Rachel, but she knows better... or at least she thinks she does.
"Sorry, Rachel, I can't. Whatever you have against Puck, you will simply have to set it aside and deal with the problem at a later time. Your voices blend well together."
Quinn agrees. When Rachel and Puck sang Just A Kiss, their voices fit together perfectly, and she isn't going to lie, she was kind of jealous.
"Okay, Mr. Schue," Rachel mumbles her agreement, crossing her arms over her chest. Quinn cannot believe what she is seeing, but it looks to her like Rachel is brooding.
"For the final number, you will be performing a mash-up as a group." He claps his hands together. Quinn sees Rachel jump. She wrinkles her nose, confused. She has noticed that loud noises of any sort startle Rachel; she recalls a few weeks ago when she sat outside holding Rachel after the brunette had run out of her Calculus class because her teacher had dropped her ruler and it had made a loud sound.
Quinn wonders what went on in Rachel's past. She knows that her dads are not her biological parents; Rachel is adopted, not something that Rachel has told her, but something she guessed and the petite girl did not deny because honestly, what is the point in denying something that is obvious? Quinn may be a blonde, but in no way does she live up to the stereotypes of blondes. She is not dimwitted and blonde jokes drive her utterly insane because seriously, not every blonde needs a pair of headphones to tell her how to breathe and not every blonde is so dumb that she does not know how to change a light bulb and not every blonde...
And your point? She interrupts her own mental rant. Her point is that stereotypes are not relevant because no one person is the same, regardless of their hair color, gender, race, ethnicity, religion (she is proof of this because she is a Christian and the Bible teaches that homosexuality is wrong, but she says fuck the Bible because she is a homosexual and damn proud of it), or sexuality.
"All right, time to start practicing. Who wants to sing first?" Mr. Schue asks, clapping his hands together again and before Rachel even has the chance to jump, Quinn places her hand on top of Rachel's and squeezes hard, wanting her to feel that she is not alone and she has nothing to be afraid of.
Rachel looks at her and her smile is so big and beautiful that Quinn swears her heart is melting. She can see Santana giving her a knowing look and she tries not to laugh when the Latina winks, mouthing, "Wanky," before raising her hand along with Tina, Mercedes, and Kurt.
The majority of the club lets out groans, including herself, because they all know this is going to turn into a war about who gets to sing first. Mostly because Kurt and Mercedes are divas and she loves Santana, but Santana is a bitch. Poor Tina does not have a chance at winning this one, but Quinn doesn't have the heart to tell her even though she is technically the Head Bitch in Charge and she is not supposed to be nice.
"Santana," Mr. Schue nods at Santana whose grin is wide and devilish. Quinn smirks because she can see Kurt glaring and Mercedes tapping her foot which is something she does when she is pissed, and she can see Tina pouting. She is happy for Santana despite their sour attitudes, however, because Santana is her best friend and she can sing her ass off.
Santana sprints over to the piano and sits on top of it. Brad does not look amused, but it isn't like Santana cares (Quinn wishes that she could be like Santana and not give two shits about anything), so she doesn't move.
"You shout it out, but I can't hear a word you say," Quinn recognizes the lyrics to Titanium and smiles. When she first heard Santana sing, she was shocked, but the good kind of shock because damn, the fiery Latina has one hell of a smoky voice.
"I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose... fire away, fire away," she sings, gesturing to Rachel with her index finger, silently telling the brunette to join her.
Rachel raises an eyebrow, but she sings, "Ricochet, you take your aim... fire away, fire away," as she stands and walks over to the piano, leaning against it. "You shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am Titanium," Rachel and Santana sing in unison, and she can hear the emotion pouring out of both of the girls.
She watches as they continue to sing, fascinated and captivated by both voices, but she won't lie, her gaze is mostly on Rachel the majority of the performance. One, because Rachel is beautiful and Quinn could look at her all day if it wouldn't be considered creepy, but also because of the way Rachel is singing the song, like she wrote it herself... like it was made specifically for her to sing.
"Stone hard, machine gun fired at the ones who run," Rachel sings as she blinks and Quinn swears that she sees a tear fall from her eyes, but the brunette hides it well. Quinn gulps. "Stone hard as bulletproof glass," she sings and then Santana joins in again for the final chorus.
The applause when they finish is almost deafening and Quinn covers her ears as she stares at Rachel because she does not want to go deaf this close to Sectionals. That would royally suck. She is aware she is being over dramatic. She swears that Kurt is rubbing off on her; a scary thought.
The applause dies down and Quinn uncovers her ears as Rachel and Santana return to their seats. She tunes Mr. Schue out as soon as he starts speaking because he is mostly just ranting and if he says anything important (highly doubtful), she can ask Kurt to tell her about it later or Blaine because they are the only ones even listening.
"That was great, Rachel," Quinn compliments her friend (her friend that she cannot stop thinking about kissing because now that she's kissed Rachel, she realizes one kiss is not enough and she needs more like she needs air), trying not to make her worry evident even though she is aware it is a wasted effort.
Rachel's smile is halfhearted. "Thanks," she says quietly, eyes downcast.
"You okay?" The question leaves her mouth before she can think twice about it. She regrets asking instantly because she can spot the tense set of Rachel's shoulders and notices as Rachel moves towards the other end of her chair to where she is nearly sliding off, which Quinn knows is her way of trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
"I'm fine." Her tone is clipped and Quinn feels the urge to be a bitch because that is what she turns into when she gets attitude for what she thinks to be absolutely no reason, but this is Rachel and all Quinn wants to do is wrap her arms around her and tell her it will be all right even though she has no clue what is wrong in the first place and cannot promise that, anyway.
"If you say so," she grumbles because she can't just not get a jab in because she is Quinn Fabray, but the jab doesn't rid her of her worry and it doesn't tell her what is wrong and she wants to beat her head of a wall because she hates feeling helpless.
This fucking sucks, she thinks. You'll live, Fabray. You want something to happen between the two of you? Make it happen. You're Quinn Fabray. So grow up and stop acting like you don't remember who you are. She knows her mental voice is right. If she wants something to happen, if she wants Rachel to open up to her, she has to act.
So, she will. Eventually.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This took forever and I apologize. Next chapter, there will likely be more of Rachel's past and a lot of Rachel and Quinn time because it is a Santana party and we all know a Santana party would be one helluva party. There will be a one week time jump, which there is a reason for that.
Thanks for the reviews. I'll update whenever possible.