Author's Note: I've strayed a bit from spoilers to make for a more interesting story. Again, any suggestions to improve this story is greatly welcomed. I'll try to get the last chapter up before the finale airs tomorrow.
Quinn rests on the floor of the bathroom with her hands wrapped protectively over her stomach and her back slumped on the wall. Her head rests on the walls and her eyes are closed. The cool, smooth tiles feel heavenly against her warm body.
"Just stay put for a little longer for Mommy ok? She croons, her hand rubbing her swollen abdomen in slow deliberate circles.
Quinn catches herself. Sure, she would be hermother, in the biological sense, but she would never be her mommy.
Her vision began to blur and hot tears spilled down her cheeks.
She had been doing a lot of that lately. Crying. Quinn always carried her head high in school, learning to block out the whispers and judgmental stares, to not so much as to blink at the insults uttered under the breaths of the students passing by.
Hey Juno.
Fatty.
Slut.
But every night, once she found herself staring up at the ceiling of the tiny guest bedroom she had been residing in at the Puckerman home for the past few months, the wall would crumble and she would cry herself to sleep.
She would cry because of that one night, the one night that ruined everything: Her reputation, her family, her dreams and aspirations. Everything.
But in spite of everything she loves this baby, and she wants nothing more than to keep her. But how could she? She's sixteen for goodness sakes, without a means of supporting herself, much less her baby.
Quinn is pulled from her thoughts as she hears the muffled roar of the crowd.
The walls are vibrating slightly with the beat of the music.
Mama, ooh
Didn't mean to make you cry
Bohemian Rhapsody, Quinn instantly recognized.
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow
Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters…
Suddenly her body begins to tense up.
"Please," Quinn pleads, "not here, not right now."
She lets out a cry as the sensation of a million knives penetrating into her back and stomach take over her and she feels a sudden need to push.
The tears are flowing freely now.
Once it passes, Quinn's falls back on the wall, her breathing labored and her cheeks stained with tears and beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her legs are clamped shut, and she fights her body with everything she has.
It's a losing battle.
She needs to find help. She had left her phone in her purse in the dressing room.
"Somebody help me!" She chokes out at the direction of the door. "Somebody please!"
She is met with applause and cheers from the audience. There was no way anyone was going to hear her.
Planting her hands firmly on the ground, she pushes herself up. Slowly and deliberately, she eases herself off the floor on shaky legs, using the wall as a support.
Quinn rests momentarily, taking in clam, even breaths. Once she had regained her composure, she began to make her way slowly the door.
Another pain hits and her body feels like it's being split into two. She lets out a small scream and her arms shoot out blindly and she manages to catch herself with the sinktop before she hits the floor.
Her arms are trembling and her legs feel like jelly. The baby's head feels like it is right there. Her whole body shudders and heaves as she cries uncontrollably.
Suddenly there her stomach contracts painfully. Quinn gasps and her hand flies to the juncture between her legs and a warm fluid flows past her fingers.
Her waters have broken.
It was happening, and she was alone.
She turns to the stalls, mustering every bit of energy she has to make the short, but painstakingly strenuous journey.
The crowd is clapping and cheering wildly at Vocal Adrenaline's finishing song, completely oblivious to what was going on in the girls bathroom a few halls down.
Quinn steadies herself on the doorway of the bathroom stall before easing herself down on the toilet with great difficulty. She proceeds to peel off her sticky cardigan and her damp underwear and deposits them on the stallroom floor.
She scoots back on the toilet, and hikes her dress up and plants her hands firmly on the handrailings.
"I guess this is it Beth."
Quinn then slowly eases her legs open, closes her eyes, and after a few deep calming breaths, submits to her body and allows nature to take its course.
