Faithfully
A/N: Alright, alright! I'm back, with a new penname!
We're almost to the end now people, and I'm getting emotional! I just love hearing you guy's response so much, it makes writing this such a fun time. Keep being as awesome as you are, alright?
BTW: This chapter is named after the song "What Doesn't Kill You (Stronger)", by Kelly Clarkson. It's just one of those Faberry songs, you know?
Disclaimer: I think the characters would have way better storylines if I owned it, don't you think? Lol.
Chapter 18
Time had ticked by, and Quinn really hated hospitals.
There was something so unnecessarily depressing about them, something so cynical and saddening about sitting in an all-white room watching your loved one or family member rest in a bed reserved for people who weren't well.
It was unsettling.
Ever since she was rushed into a room and held down while pushing out the life form of a baby that would never go home with her, she had found the whole aura of the place off-putting.
She felt suffocated with memories, filled with a deep clotting pain of longing as she allowed hazel eyes to travel over the cheesy hospital décor and the soft murmuring of the television and the beeping of the machine tracking the steady sleeping heartbeat of her lover.
She watched the brown haired beauty sleep with a calculated and almost heavenly ease. Her chest heaved rhythmically with her slumber and she almost smiled despite the turmoil that was physically still evident from the day's events.
Quinn had never felt more dedicated to anyone than she did sitting next to this girl as she slept.
From gripping her hand as her father spat his contempt and absolute hatred for her lifestyle, to begging her not to leave her, to protecting her from death itself…Rachel was hers to keep and come hell or high water she was going to fight to be there.
It was all bullshit, and the pain was undeserving. At least on the Jewish girl's part, but it had happened to them and somehow they were pushing through as they always had, donning minimal scars.
The pain was practically unbearable, however.
The hurt from her mother and father, and the intense anger from watching as someone hurt the only thing that kept her strength right in front of her. The pure rage from watching her lover be strangled almost to death, to unconsciousness was draining and it was even more draining to think that she might have lost her.
But she didn't.
Despite the sharp spark of agony that passed through her system at the thought of letting go, at the thought of having to live life with these scars no matter how minimal they were, she felt the urge to smile.
Even as she raked her eyes over the exhausted and domestically injured form of Rachel, she smiled at the immense progress in life and love that they had made. She smiled at how hard it had been, indeed to love one another, whether secretive or as loud and proud as the vibrant Los Angeles rooftops.
But they indeed made it through, despite all the speculation, despite the bets and the criticism, despite the slushies and pornographic pictures, degrading names, pregnancies, bigotry and musical numbers, they were standing stronger than most would have suspected.
It was that thought itself that made Quinn grin; it was that small fact that made her bear her teeth in a show of absolute and total happiness, in a show of gratitude for the woman that lay under the covers of that bed. She absolutely would be nothing without her.
Without the years of bullying within her closeted sexuality, without staring into those forgiving brown eyes even after she had doused her in slushy, without watching the light in the whites of her pupils as she sang every song with fixated stares not on Finn, but on her when she thought no one would notice. She wouldn't have survived if she had not stopped on that sidewalk at the sound of that voice calling out to her.
She would have been reduced to a small disintegration of nothingness, because Rachel was her life. She was absolutely her life in every aspect and now watching the slight purple of her neck fade, watching the color reappear in her face, she realized that life just wouldn't be life without her.
Life wouldn't be worth all of the success from all of the tattoos and empires in the world if she couldn't have shared it with a vibrant gold star obsessed diva every single day.
She wanted to marry her, she wanted to spend thousands of dollars on an overpriced ring and buying the biggest wedding in the world to make her hers. She wanted to do whatever it took to call her her own. She would give her soul, she would go anywhere to be able to say that this was hers, and hers forever, officially.
Because even the sight of her unconscious body, even the thought of never being able to look into those eyes, even the thought of not being able to ever hear the beautiful laugh and voice speaking, singing to her for any reason numbed her mind and senses to a place of absolute terror.
It was like this girl supplied her air.
She let soft gentle fingers run lightly over the bruising on her neck, biting her lip as the girl moved a little at the feathery touch of her lover.
That's all she had been doing once they medicated her after her X-ray, sleeping. It was because the strangulation had absolutely drained all energy source and left little blood to flow, at least that's what the doctor said. She had been given medication to dim down the swelling of her throat and to ensure the safety of her vocal chords even as the damage had been surveyed and watched closely.
It was absolutely terrifying for Quinn, to watch her girlfriend go limp in her arms after on a whim asking her to spend the rest of her life with her.
She had called to paramedics soon after, and her fathers shortly after that, to follow her to the hospital, but it was the sight of her girlfriend falling in and out of consciousness trying to respond and failing miserably with it, something about her fighting to keep energy, voice barely a whisper caused tremors to erupt all over her.
"Rachel? Please wake up baby…"
She hovered over the sort of conscious form of her girl, she held on to weak fingers as EMTs worked with fevor to revive her, it was nerve wrecking, they were trying to stimulate her blood flow and make sure she had enough air.
And she was slipping in and out from reality, with dopey smiles and incoherent mumblings, it was almost as if she hadn't even been strangled, almost as if she was just high and loopy from some unidentifiable magnetic force.
But Quinn squeezed her fingers as the ambulance rode through the streets of Lima, and she cooed over her girlfriend who decided that breathing in fresh oxygen through once strangled lungs was the perfect time to speak on how outraged she was, about being proposed to in this particular state.
"I can't…believe…" Every so often a violent cough would interrupt her speech and she would find herself dripping with absolute pain at the thought of something blocking her lover's golden lungs.
"What baby, what can't you believe?" Quinn said, running a hand through her brown hair, willing to listen to the babbling whether it made sense or not in order to keep her conscious. The effects from her injuries, from her abuse could kill her within the time frame of thirty-six hours if she didn't keep her conscious until further treatment at the hospital.
"You, proposed…I look…look terrible." She rasped and Quinn chuckled pressing her lips to weak and whitened ones.
"You look beautiful, you always look beautiful…I proposed because I love you, I want to be with you forever." Rachel let a smile pass her lips, coughing again feeling a burning feeling within her lungs as she reached for air from an unknown place.
"That almost – it almost didn't happen, huh?" She said and tears leaked from her red eyes, tears that made the aching in Quinn's chest burn heavier than before and she bit her lip, squeezing skinny fingers, and continuously stroking silky brown locks.
"It doesn't matter, you are with me, and you're never going to leave me…and I'm never going to leave you, we're together forever, right?"
She closed her eyes and grinned, "I love you so much, it's hurting…and I don't know if…if it's the pain in my chest from not being able to really breathe, or if it's my sore throat…or m-my headache…or just how much I love…you. But it's…it's so worth it."
Quinn let tears fall as the girl coughed up air, and the ambulance pulled into a slow stop in front of the hospital.
"I'm not worth this, Rach."
"You are worth…everything." Rachel croaked, holding on to her hand tightly, as they rolled her out of the ambulance, pushing her with Quinn alongside through the hospital doors, rushing.
"You probably don't need to talk so much, love." Quinn said with a laugh as they started talking around her and grabbing needles and charts and things and even though the circumstances were extremely unsettling, it was as if Quinn saw nothing but the faint light still shining in Rachel's weary eyes and her weak smile.
"Blah, blah, blah….y-you –" She coughed, "You've been saying that since high school…and I still…I haven't stopped yet."
Quinn laughed, a full boisterous laugh, gaining questioning looks from every doctor and nurse in the room.
"Quinn…"
"Rach…" The blonde said bowing her head to stare at the girl who watched as doctors injected her with different medicines.
"I'm s-sorry about –"
Quinn put a finger to her lips, silencing her inevitable apology for things that weren't even worth it.
"Stop it, Rach. I told you…none of this is your fault, it will never be your fault." The blonde gently scraped a tear as it touched her colorless cheeks, and she wondered how long it would be til the life fully returned back to her girlfriend's body.
It was terrible, knowing that someone who at one point spent more time with her than she, someone who claimed they loved her, did this.
"I-It was though…I was as s-stupid as you, said –" She was crying now. Tears soaking through her voice with every cough and Quinn suddenly felt the guilt rise up and between her blood cells like strings of fate.
"I was wrong…I was just angry when I said that, and you aren't stupid, baby. You are…amazing and smart, and wonderful and caring and that's all. That's all this was, that's all it will ever be. You aren't stupid…you just got hurt."
"I-I am always getting-getting hurt…" She choked and Quinn saw her eyes slipping saw her getting tired with her words, from her tears and the blonde looked around for the doctor, who smiled and gave her the okay.
She shushed her, finger tangling easily through the strands of brown. She felt the grip on her hand loosen, she felt the girl relax into her touch as she started to calm down. The medicine to dim her throat's swelling, effectively hitting her system and causing her drowsiness to take over.
With lips pressed onto her forehead, and a thumb caressing the skin of her hand, Quinn smiled at the girl, looking into the chocolate eyes with determined love. Determination was such a factor when it came to this love, to their love…it was hard not to love her that way.
"Not anymore, not ever again. You're going to rest, and get better…and then tomorrow I'm going to take you away from here, from Lima. And I'm going to take you home, and I'll protect you from it all. I'll protect you from everything. As long as I have you, as long as you're mine…you'll never get hurt again. I'll never let anyone hurt you again, ever."
Rachel smiled sleepily, raising her lips slightly as if she was puckering and Quinn gave a watery chuckle, leaning down with ease to press her lips to the weakened ones softly, a limp arm reaching up to tangle in the back of her blonde hair.
"I love you…Quinn…I do…d-do you love me?"
"Always, Rach, Always."
"And…you'll propose again…when, I'm not half dead?"
Quinn laughed as the girl drifted off to sleep with a smile, "Of course."
The blonde smiled at the memory, she was so scared when she had fallen asleep, scared her lungs wouldn't be able to get enough air, but the doctors ensured that she would. The medicine they had injected her with was meant to clear the swelling from the strangulation and the other dose was to make the white of her eyes return, and with rest and health the color would return to her face.
She was still there for overnight observation and then they'd leave the next morning just as soon as the confirmation of her vitals came.
Quinn had never wanted to be further away from the place after the weekend they had had. She had been reminded why she left, there were just so many mountains in this town, in this state alone, and it was ultimately what spinned her into the out of control specimen she was now.
Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out the card that Santana had given her before they left and she stared at the writing.
Dr. Sandra Wilkins – Psychiatrist
It was a step for her, and Rachel supported it. But it was scary to think of some woman that she had never met. Some chick that didn't know the half of what was going on inside of her body sitting on a leather couch demanding an hour's worth of her time to listening to what she had to say about her craptastic excuse of a life story.
She just couldn't tell you how frightened she was of talking…of exposing something so exponentially damaged and fragile to someone so that they could judge her vulnerability and write it off as a diagnostic of her being a fucked-up psychopath.
She was wary, even though she knew how emotionally inept she was, even though she knew with the dysfunction of her life and the head that it came to this weekend she needed more guidance. More than just Pastor Smith, and Rachel. She needed something and someone on the outside, someone that could do a miracle, and really see inside her to help her understand what steps forward were necessary. That didn't mean she wasn't afraid of it.
She was terrified to talk to Jesus nowadays, so naturally a woman with glasses and a clipboard was just as horrifying.
It might have been too much, she might have been overreacting. But she felt as if she would get into that room with this woman and freeze with sweaty palms and a fucked up distant and defensive attitude.
She could always take Rachel…she had said she'd go with her, but there was a part of her that didn't want to feel needy, a part of her didn't want to feel as if she couldn't do these things, the things that make you the strong person, the strong Quinn Fabray that she was.
There was so much more thought behind it than she initially expected.
So naturally she was deathly afraid and at a standstill, even despite everything, but she really wanted more official closure than what she had felt when she told her parents to fuck themselves, and what she would feel the moment their flight touched off from the ground the next morning.
So she did what all good people would have done during a moment of need.
She called Brittany.
Most people would think that she would call someone with just a little more…maturity. But many people underestimated Brittany's intelligence, much like they underestimated her wise sense of advice.
Granted she didn't release it in the most conventional of ways, and she definitely didn't censor herself to sound as if you were reading a modern copy of Poor Richard's Almanac or something, but it came when you least expected and when you definitely didn't think you needed it.
Quinn listened as the legendary voice sang about how her 'lonely heart called', and before she could laugh at how well the ringtone described her best friend, she heard the usually cheery voice of the girl.
"Hey Quinn!"
Quinn smiled, "Hey Britt…how are you?"
"Oh I am good…feeding Lord Tubbington his nightly snack of fondue." She said nonchantly and Quinn shook her head at the mention of the cat.
"God, I can't believe you still have that cat, he has to be at least a hundred years old."
"Well that can't be right,Q, because I got him as a gift when I was five, and he was like one…and well, I don't like numbers…but he can't be that old. But he has been craving fondue more, I'm getting suspicious, I'm starting to wonder if he's expecting." She said thoughtfully and Quinn had stifle a laugh.
"Expecting, huh…I don't know about that Britt."
"Well, you see I just remember when you were pregnant in school and you had those awful mood swings and you kept eating a lot of bacon…but we didn't know you were carrying a bacon eating little monster inside of your stomach, I just thought you liked eating pork. And Santana's been craving it too…so I think she's passing her pregnancy to Lord Tubbington."
"Wait – what? Santana's pregnant?"
Brittany grew quiet and the phone shuffled before she came back to the receiver it seemed. "Oh damn it, Quinn…I wasn't supposed to tell you! S, wanted to wait until you and Rachel got back tomorrow…oh she's going to be so pissed at me. She's always trying to lecture me about, um, what is it called? Overbiting or something –"
"Oversharing, Britt…holy shit, you guys picked a guy? And I thought San said you were going to carry?" Quinn said in wonderment.
"We picked this guy, and he's really cute. Blonde hair, blue eyes and he can sing…he's also a dancer. One of my good friends from the studio I worked with…he was so happy to make a baby with us! Although I told him we were going with the turkey baster way…and not – you know. Santana didn't want to carry, but I just knew she'd look so beautiful pregnant Quinn, and I just want a little bit more time before I have to give up dancing for nine months."
Quinn laughed, "Yeah, I understand. Congratulations, Brittany…this is amazing. I know you guys are going to make great mothers. Although, sometimes I wonder about your wife."
Brittany was beaming through the phone and it reflected in her voice. "Hush, Quinn. So what's up?"
Quinn let eyes wash over her sleeping lover and sighed. "Nothing serious, hey Britt, do you think I'm crazy?"
The blonde on the other end, laughed. "No, Quinn…I think you have crazy life problems. But you aren't crazy at all. Because then, if you were we'd have to put you in one of those homes where the people are strapped with like…white seatbelts to like chairs and stuff. And I know for a fact you don't like to wear seatbelts."
Quinn bit her lip before asking, "Do you think I should go to a doctor to talk about my crazy life problems?"
"There are doctors for that? Do they like give you a shot or something?"
"No, Britt. Like a therapist. Like one of those doctors you go and sit and talk to about your life problems and they tell you what they think to try and help you get over how crazy your life problems are."
"Oh, are you scared to go?" Brittany said with wonder and Quinn was caught off guard at the quick inquiry tossed at her from the girl. She chewed on her fingernail wondering where the sudden cowardice came from.
"Yeah…I am."
"I thought you weren't scared of anything though, Q? Do you like have a phobia of couches or something?"
"No Britt, I'm scared of feeling crazy."
"Well…the doctor can't make you feel crazy. Unless you feel crazy when you talk about your life problems. And if that's true then it wouldn't matter who you talked to, because feeling crazy would happen regardless because of your insides controlling it."
Quinn thought about it. "So you're saying I can't be crazy, unless I allow myself to have those feelings?"
"I think so. I don't know, Quinn. I think there's nothing to be scared of. A doctor on a couch listening to your insane life trauma can't make you feel crazy…it's all inside your head. They're just there to sort it out."
"She's a complete stranger though, I mean…what if she has absolutely no idea how to help, and she thinks she'll never be able to do anything for me?"
"Complete strangers are the best people to talk to, because since they don't know you, they can only judge you by what you tell them."
"I'm almost positive I'm a hopeless crazed case Britt."
"But Quinn, this woman has like…gone to school to learn how to help people as crazy as you think you are, so shouldn't she be able to handle you?"
Quinn smiled, "She should…but I'm hard to handle."
"You're hard to handle because you make it hard. You put on like…these invisible blocker type walls and you make it hard for anyone close to you to really help you, and that's why sometimes it's better to open up and be vulnerable. So that you can become less wall-like and more free to feel happy and unicorny. Don't you want to be able to love Rachel and be with her without worrying about all the other complicated crap from your crazed life that you have been dragging with you? That's what the doctor is for…you never know unless you try, and I think this is worth a try, Q."
Quinn closed her eyes and sighed letting the easy identification from her friend wash over her in waves and she smiled a genuine smile, "Thanks Brittany…I really needed to hear that from you."
The blonde squealed happily from the end of the line and Quinn chuckled. "Yay Quinn! I can't wait to see the brand new you, all happy and glow like…you already look really sunshiney because of Rachel…but now it'll be even more sunshiney…like watching the sun set over your life or something! I can't wait!"
Quinn laughed and leaned back into her chair, closing her eyes.
"Me neither Britt…"
A/N: I decided to stop it here, even though it's short, I know! But I am trying to end it on twenty chapters and the next chapter is going to be long and deep and exploring within Quinn's therapy session, so I wanted to leave a little breathing room for that. I hope you guys liked what I gave you though! Sorry for the length! Let me know what you think!
P.S. Shout-outs to anyone who can tell me what Brittany's ringback tone is. lol.
- Mimi