The first day of Regionals was an awkward affair. Quinn, beyond exhausted, spent her downtime between rehearsals half-dozing in a corner of the auditorium, headphones in and a hooded sweatshirt covering her eyes. The edges of a migraine pulsated at the base of her skull all day and Quinn—determined to prove both herself and Rachel wrong by not convincing Rachel to go with her up to their room and hold her until she could fall asleep—lied through her teeth when Rachel asked if she was okay, clenched her jaw when no one else was looking, and covertly took Excedrin like candy all day long. Rachel, though she had ostensibly forgiven Quinn for their argument, kept a careful distance between them the whole day; she spent most of her time arguing with Mr. Scheu and Kurt and Mercedes about choreography and performance order, and only spoke to Quinn on sparing occasions.
Quinn cursed her headache half a dozen times throughout the day— when she saw Rachel throw up her hands in frustration, or Kurt or Mercedes make a snide comment towards Rachel—whenever the pounding at the base of her skull felt like a tether keeping her riveted to her seat. Instinct and frustration with Kurt and Mercedes prodded her to come to Rachel's defense, but the disappointment in the other girls' eyes that morning, the way she barely spoke to Quinn throughout the bus ride and the rehearsals, stopped her every time. The few times they had spoken were quiet and comfortable, but an underlying tension blanketed their conversations, and Quinn was uncertain of her ability to deal with any more confrontations.
The hotel room they shared with Mercedes and Tina was awkwardly split down the middle, with Mercedes and Tina monopolizing the television and engrossing themselves in gossip shows while Rachel and Quinn sat next to one another in their bed, Quinn staring at a novel and Rachel shuffling aimlessly through her endless notes.
Quinn woke up from a nightmare at three in the morning and surreptitiously slid out of bed and into the bathroom, where she sat in the corner by the bathtub with her knees drawn up to her chest for nearly an hour before the trembling in her hands went away and she felt like she might be able to sleep again. When the alarm went off at seven and Rachel bounced out of bed, shaking all of them awake frantically, Quinn grumbled silently and told herself that the fatigue was worth proving that she could get through a night without Rachel comforting her.
By the time they made it to the auditorium where the competition was being held, nerves overran everyone and the tension between Quinn and Rachel was forgotten. Quinn, all but hyperventilating as they waited on deck to start their show, found herself fumbling blindly for Rachel's hand and trying to focus on nothing but the deathgrip Rachel staked out on her fingers. As they were announced and lined up to march out for their first song, Rachel offered Quinn a supportive look, and Quinn leaned over to kiss her briefly before they moved to their respective places in line.
"For luck," she whispered as Finn rolled his eyes and dragged Quinn to her position. Rachel smiled brightly at Quinn, and then the music started and they marched out to sing.
When they bounded off the stage after their last number, applause following them into the wings, adrenaline and euphoria at a job well done had all twelve of them jumping up and down hysterically, hugs and high fives exchanged amongst everyone. Quinn, high off of listening to Rachel bellow out the last note of the solo to close their final number, broke free from the bear hug Mike had her wrapped in and fought her way over to where Rachel was bouncing up and down ecstatically with Tina.
As soon as her attention was diverted to Quinn, Rachel all but tackled her; Quinn stumbled back a few steps before restoring her balance, arms around Rachel's waist as Rachel pressed a hungry kiss to her lips. It was as if their argument and the subsequent silence had never happened, and Quinn, sinking into the moment of adrenaline and endorphins and the rush of a great show, promptly forgot that they had a ten-person audience.
It took a pained yelp from Artie to bring them back to the present, where their fellow club members were staring at them with slack jaws. Finn was all but cross-eyed, Mike was determinedly looking at a spot on the wall above Quinn's head, and Matt was gaping openly; Santana smirked cheerfully and Brittany was bouncing up and down happily, while Puck silently looked down at his shoes.
"Ow!" Artie said indignantly, glaring at Mercedes and rubbing the top of his head. She glared right back, eyes narrowed and hands on her hips.
"Your girlfriend is standing right next to you, moron," she shot back. "Don't stare at them making out when you're with your girlfriend!"
Tina giggled, smoothing Artie's hair down from Mercedes' slap. "It's fine," she assured the both of them. "It was kind of hot."
Quinn flushed darkly, moving to step away from Rachel; Rachel, having none of that, grabbed onto Quinn's hands after spinning around in her arms to face the others. Quinn, biting down on her lip and quashing down the flush of embarrassment she felt on her cheeks, kept her arms around Rachel's waist as Rachel opened her mouth to speak. Mercedes holding up a hand, though, stopped the words from making it out of her mouth, and Quinn smiled at the fact that Rachel was actually letting someone else tell her to be quiet.
"Hold it, Berry," Mercedes sneered. "We just had a damn good show and we all love you right now. Don't mess it up by talking and making me slap you."
Quinn's giggle died in her throat when she felt Rachel almost deflate in her arms.
"Hey," Rachel said indignantly.
"Hey," Quinn said in unison with Rachel, shooting Mercedes a dark look. "Be nice."
Mercedes blinked at her, cocking her head to one side. The sound of the next club starting their first number was a distant rumble; backstage, the entirety of the club had fallen quiet at the way Mercedes was staring at a bristling Quinn, who still had her arms tightly around Rachel's waist.
"Excuse me, what?" Mercedes' half-sneer fueled Quinn's indignation even more. Every moment from the day before, when she had watched Kurt and Mercedes argue with and gang up on Rachel, rushed back and added to the dangerous calm building within, and Quinn fought with the desire to systematically and irrevocably dismember every single personality flaw she'd ever seen in Mercedes Jones.
"You're completely out of line," Quinn repeated, anger expanding slowly in her chest. "Don't be a bitch to my girlfriend. None of us would even be here if it wasn't for her."
If she had been less focused on glaring Mercedes into submission, Quinn may have felt the quiet gasp Rachel let out; as it was, she was too intent on channeling every bit of her intimidating abilities into cowing Mercedes. Disentangling herself from Rachel, shoulders squaring unconsciously, Quinn stepped around Rachel to stand between her and Mercedes. Whatever friendship may have grown slowly between Quinn and the other girl over the past months was forgotten as Quinn crossed her arms over her chest and stared down her nose at Mercedes.
Kurt mirrored Quinn's actions, coming to stand defensively at Mercedes' side, hands on his hips defiantly. Quinn glared at him as well, daring him to speak up; even he withered visibly under her gaze. She didn't care the slightest bit that it had been mostly his proddings that had brought her and Rachel together, or that he was a truly good person; none of that would stop her from absolutely ripping him a new one as well.
"Don't even, Kurt," Quinn snapped. "You're just as spoiled as she is." She sneered elegantly at his indignation, daring him to try and argue. His jaw clenched shut, his eyes flashing with frustration at the realization that even on his best day he was no match for her, and Quinn slid her gaze back over to where Mercedes looked torn between arguing and running away.
"Sorry," she finally muttered, obviously uncomfortable in the face of a Quinn Fabray who was channeling her inner Sue Sylvester.
A hand her shoulder instantly calmed Quinn's anger, just enough for her to stop weighing the pros and cons of really letting Mercedes and Kurt have it. "Accepted," Rachel said softly to Mercedes. "Thank you."
An awkward silence covered the entire group as Quinn continued to glare at Kurt and Mercedes, Rachel standing with a hand on Quinn's shoulder, and both Kurt and Mercedes looking anywhere but at the two of them.
"Okay," Santana said loudly. Quinn and Rachel both jumped slightly, unaware that Santana and Brittany had been standing right behind them the whole time. Quinn thanked God for her best friends and their determined loyalty, finally uncrossing her arms and taking Rachel's hand in her own.
"Enough of this crap. We need to go get our scores," Santana went on, hands on her hips. When no one moved, she rolled her eyes. "Now, plebians," she snapped, and there was a sudden explosion of sound as the other eight members of the club all but ran for the door at the same time.
Quinn and Rachel stayed where they were, and Quinn offered a grateful nod to Santana; Brittany smiled brightly and Santana merely sniffed and rolled her eyes before letting Brittany bounce out of the room and drag her along.
"You okay?" Quinn asked softly, turning to face Rachel. Rachel was staring up at her with an incredulous look on her face. "What?"
"You…" Rachel started. She shook her head, pushing a hand through her hair and looking back up at Quinn questioningly. "Girlfriend?"
Quinn blushed deeply, clearing her throat and looking down at her shoes. "I, uh," she stammered. "Yes?"
Rachel grinned at her, reaching out to take her other hand. "That sounds great," she said softly. "And thank you."
"You're welcome?" Quinn said slowly.
"For standing up for me," Rachel said by way of explanation. She squeezed Quinn's hands gently. "Thank you."
"Oh," Quinn said, her voice faint. "Yeah, no problem." Her anger and adrenaline were rolling away, leaving her deflated and tired. "She deserved it."
"Maybe so," Rachel responded. "But I didn't expect anyone to challenge her on my behalf. Or Kurt."
Quinn snorted. "Kurt's about as good at confrontations as a goldfish," she said dismissively. "And Mercedes is all bark and no bite. Someone just needed to call her on it."
"Maybe so," Rachel said again. She stood up on her toes and kissed Quinn's cheek softly. "But I'm glad you were the one who did. And I'm really glad you did it in my defense."
"Yeah, well," Quinn mumbled. "It's what I'm here for, right?"
"As my girlfriend, yes, I'd say so," Rachel said. She flashed a bright smile when Quinn blushed again.
The door opened behind them, and Finn stuck his head in apprehensively.
"Oh, good, you're not making out," he said. He opened the door the rest of the way. "Mr. Scheu said I should come get you. The judges are going to give out the scores in a few minutes."
"Right," Rachel said, all business once more. She tugged on Quinn's hand, pulling her towards the door as she all but sprinted out. Finn leapt out of the way, smirking at the helpless look on Quinn's face as she hurried after Rachel in an attempt to keep her shoulder from being dislocated. She stuck her tongue out at him over her shoulder as he ambled along behind them, smirking at her.
Once they rejoined the rest of the club in the auditorium, Quinn's fingers started to ache from the tight grip Rachel had on them. Rachel, leaning over and talking at hyperspeed to an overwhelmed-looking Brittany, was oblivious, and Quinn sighed, resigning herself to losing feeling in her hand. Looking around the auditorium, which was abuzz with the audience and the other clubs, she caught sight of a bright red cardboard sign with her name on it in shiny white block letters. Devon waved cheerfully at her, pointing at the sign and looking inordinately pleased with herself; Mrs. Fabray was next to her, and waved demurely as well.
Quinn rolled her eyes at Devon's sign, shaking her head, but smiled and returned their waves anyways. It felt far too good to have them there for her to care that her sister had probably done an extraordinary job at humiliating her with the obnoxious sign. Her eyes scanned over the rest of the glee club, from a nervous Finn and a disinterested Puck, to a hyperactive Mike and the ever-silent Matt, to Mr. Scheu whispering something into Ms. Pillsbury's ear, to Santana rolling her eyes at Brittany trying to follow Rachel's train of thought. Quinn let her eyes skim right over Kurt and Mercedes, a stab of annoyance still pulsating in her chest at even the thought of them.
As the audience quieted down slowly when an announcer made his way out on to the stage, three assistants carrying trophies trailing after him, and started grandstanding about time-honored competition and how stiff the competition was for a single spot in the upcoming Nationals, Quinn finally felt her heart slow down to a normal pace. Next to her, Rachel continued to grip her hand painfully, one knee bouncing up and down rapidly as she stared up at the stage, a pained expression on her face as she hung unto every word spoken.
Unthinkingly, Quinn raised their joined hands up briefly to press a kiss to the back of Rachel's hand. Rachel's knee stopped bouncing, and she looked over at Quinn almost serenely, a small smile on her lips. Quinn returned the smile and quirked an eyebrow at her, settling back in her seat and returning her attention to the stage as they waited for the results.