Still off the Key of Reason
Chapter 31: We're Making Out Inside Crashed Cars
Rachel tapped the small cardboard box along the counter. She checked the time on her phone, sighed in frustration, and then tapped harder. Cornelius sat at her feet, gazing up at her like the pregnancy test in her hand was some kind of toy- poised to rip it apart and swallow the bits.
Rachel hadn't even opened it yet. She was waiting for Quinn to get home so that she could hand over James- their daily "baby switch"-and get to her show.
Cornelius barked lowly and Rachel tapped his head with her foot.
"Shush, dog."
James clapped in his high chair. "Sush!"
Maybe Quinn was angry with her. She'd been annoyed that morning when she left because she caught Rachel drinking coffee-the first one Rachel had snuck in months. Really, she was being good. But Rachel had told her it was tea.
Or maybe Quinn was ignoring her because Rachel had burned the waffles at breakfast. Totally blackened one side and then doused the kitchen table in syrup.
But Rachel remembered Quinn eating some kind of appalling chili concoction in their first apartment with a forced smile on her face, and ruled that out.
Quinn just wasn't answering her texts. And really, Rachel knew that her wife wasn't the type to ignore anybody, even if she was angry. It was "passive and idiotic and a waste of everybody's time." And Quinn was a sweetheart; she'd turn clippy in her texts but she'd never block anybody out.
"Sush, mama." James remarked absently, tugging at his ears.
Rachel groaned and slid the pregnancy test box away. "Where's mommy, Jay?!"
Her voice was a little frantic. She'd never been this late to a show in her life. Rachel Berry was a punctual person.
"Mommy!" James scrunched up his face and shook his head around.
"Mommy, mommy, mommy…" Rachel muttered.
Cornelius barked again, and Rachel sighed and slid off her stool to get him something to eat from the kitchen. She was prying open the bag of Beggin' Strips with one hand and dialing Santana with the other when her phone signaled an incoming call.
"Rachel Berry!" she screeched in greeting, struggling with the Ziploc seal on the bag.
She kicked at Cornelius to shoo him out of the kitchen, and he dodged her foot and whined loudly.
"Hush, dog." Rachel scolded.
"Ms. Berry?"
Rachel dumped the bag of treats haphazardly onto the kitchen floor and ran a hand through her hair. "Yes, I'm here. I apologize. How may I help you?"
"My name is Amber Holcombe, from New York Presbyterian Hospital."
"She's been mauled by a bear" was the first thing that went through Rachel's mind.
"Your wife was brought in a little after five."
Rachel's chest seized. She watched Cornelius and Cloud feast on the pile of Beggin' Strips at her feet, and noticed that her hand was caught in the tangles of her hair. God, Quinn was late.
"She was in a car accident. It would be best if you got here as soon as possible."
James laughed loudly in the background when Jelly leapt lightly up onto his tray. Rachel's breath caught. Her heart-everything inside-felt like it dropped to her feet, and her chest and hands were shaking immediately.
Now she was a vibrating, hollow, shocked and anxious shell with two dogs snuffling over her toes. She blinked at them.
"Ms. Berry?"
"I'm-I'm here." Rachel managed. Her heart beat wildly and she leaned against the counter. "She's-is she alright? She's fine, right? She's not-she's not-"
Dying would never make it out of her mouth.
"Shit." Rachel pulled anxiously on her hair. Her eyes burned. "I-I messed up her waffles this morning. She was supposed to-she needed to be here thirty minutes ago!"
"Rachel?" the nurse called calmly. "I don't have any further information, I'm sorry. Will you be able to make it to the hospital?"
"I blackened her waffles this morning!" Rachel shrieked, spinning in a small circle. Her chest was shaking uncontrollably, and the waffles were all she could see. And Quinn's delighted smile when Rachel had suggested them.
"I-she-"
Rachel cut herself off and started grabbing at everything within range-purse, baby bag, baby shoes, baby hat, baby.
"Yes, yes I can make it. Thank-thank you very much."
She hung up abruptly and draped both bags over one shoulder. She scooped James out of his chair and settled him on her hip, slipped on some shoes, and rushed out the door. James was crying before she even hailed a cab. Once the car stopped, Rachel realized that James couldn't ride in it without a goddamn car seat.
She pulled her keys out, knocked a plastic bottle out of the baby bag so that it rolled into the road, and rushed around the building to the garage.
"It's okay, baby boy." She soothed breathlessly, voice cracking a bit. "We're going to see mommy. It's okay."
Despite how desperately Rachel felt she needed to be at the hospital, she refused to jump any curbs with James in the car. She wouldn't go careening around corners or hydroplaning like a madman. So she sat quietly at a stop sign while her heart was being twisted and torn out of her chest.
Quinn's plastic thermos from her animal rescue days was in the cup holder. A pair of her shoes was on the floor of the passenger seat, and a manual on New York state wildlife was shoved into the door compartment.
Rachel only saw her smiling over waffles. Freshly showered, eyes bright, tickling James's feet while she tried to catch strawberries in her mouth.
Rachel called one of her costars at a red light, and then Santana.
"Berry, aren't you supposed to be on stage in like-"
"I'm going to the hospital." Rachel nearly shouted. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Santana stayed silent while Rachel informed her of the situation.
"Get off the phone, Rachel. Drive. We'll be there soon." Was all Santana said, voice low and strained.
Rachel forced herself to take the time to park properly at the hospital. Quinn would scold her-and laugh, probably- if all she had was a few bruises and Rachel managed to get their car towed.
She hurried into the emergency room-stiltedly, because of her bags, her baby, and her nerves-and requested Quinn Fabray at the desk. They directed her up an elevator to the ICU, and she could barely breathe by the time she reached the nurse's station.
"I'm looking for Quinn Fabray." she said immediately, shifting James up her hip and trying to steady her chest. It was imploding. "I'm-I'm Rachel Berry, her wife. Is she-"
"Hey there, Rachel. Let me take your boy and we'll put him in the daycare, okay?"
Rachel recognized the voice from the phone. It was coming from a small, dark-haired nurse with a warm smile, and Rachel nodded in relief. She hugged James tightly and kissed his head twice.
"You'll see mommy soon, baby bear." She murmured against his ear. She thumbed the tear stains off his cheeks and he watched her with wide hazel eyes. "I promise. Be good. I love you, honey."
James sniffled and swatted at the nurse who took him out of Rachel's arms.
Rachel looked back at Nurse Holcombe. The woman's smile was reassuring.
"Ms. Berry, your wife is stable. She's in no danger, as far as the doctors can tell."
Rachel breathed shallowly. Tears seemed to come with relief. She tipped back against the wall and anxiously ran both hands through her hair.
Quinn would still be around. To hug her and kiss her and love on her, any time, any day, whatever mood. To raise their baby and roll around on the floor and eat all the peanut butter and blame it on a dog. Rachel pressed her hands against her temples and focused on breathing.
"She suffered a displaced fracture of the tibia, so she was in surgery when I called." Nurse Holcombe spoke slowly. "They inserted pins to hold the bone together, and she's in a cast now. She knocked her head as well, but there's no reason you can't wheel her out of here within twenty-four hours."
Rachel whimpered slightly. "She broke her leg?"
Nurse Holcombe nodded. "It's been set. She'll be in crutches for at least eight weeks."
Rachel gave a small nod. She could picture Quinn swinging happily around on them already. Turning them into games and using them to prod the dogs.
"Can I see her?" Rachel asked hopefully.
"Right this way." Nurse Holcombe smiled.
Rachel was led to a private room, wringing her hands the whole way, and tears finally trailed down her cheeks when she pushed open the door. There was no beeping, no wires, no awful hospital stench or blood or horrific injury.
There was Quinn-twisted up in her robe and blankets-lying on her back with her leg supported and her hair in her face, sleeping like a bear. Rachel pressed a hand over her mouth and rushed towards the bed.
"Oh, baby. Quinn…" she murmured. She touched all the skin she could find, checking it over, making sure Quinn was alright. She carefully brushed Quinn's hair back-remembering that the nurse said she'd knocked her head-and kissed her wife's cheeks.
Quinn's face was flushed, lips curved into a pout.
"You scared me, dummy." Rachel sniffled quietly, mostly relieved. She rested a hand on the smooth skin of Quinn's chest, just under the collar of the robe. Her heartbeat was as strong as ever.
"I love you, bear. I love you, I love you, I love you." Rachel repeated quietly, watery eyes fixed on Quinn's face.
She was slowly catching her breath, regaining her senses, stopping her shaking.
Quinn seemed to be knocked out.
Rachel rubbed her nose and straightened out Quinn's blanket. She untwisted Quinn's robe from where it had ridden up around her torso, and then sat next to the bed and held Quinn's hand. It was soft and warm and familiar.
Rachel wiped at the tears on her face and kissed each of Quinn's fingers.
~oooooooooooo~
The nurse came back with a box of Quinn's belongings-things that had been left in the back of the cab when it was hit-and Rachel went through them while Quinn slept.
There was Quinn's bag, which contained a white coat and a change of clothes, an empty lunchbox, water, and a file of documents. And then Quinn's purse and the clothes she'd been wearing. Rachel whined at the ripped up dark pants and broken sunglasses.
But there was a messy bouquet of roses at the bottom of the box, and Rachel smiled slightly at the sight. The tag read "I love your waffles, little bear." Quinn had signed it with a heart and an elephant.
Rachel was laying the flowers out on the table when Quinn shifted.
Glassy, hazel eyes had opened, and Quinn furrowed her brow and blinked repeatedly.
"Baby, hey." Rachel soothed, managing to keep her tone low. She dropped the flowers and eagerly scooted closer to the bed.
Quinn had pillow lines in her face, and Rachel pushed her hair back so that she could see.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Rachel murmured. She kept her hand in Quinn's hair, discreetly stroking and feeling for a bump.
Quinn blinked, confused.
Rachel leaned closer and caught Quinn's hazy gaze. "You're alright. You're in the hospital, baby. You had an accident."
"You were crying." Quinn observed roughly. She frowned and tried to reach for Rachel's face.
Rachel intercepted her clumsy hand and squeezed it. "I'm okay now. You're okay, so I'm okay."
"I'm good." Quinn said absently, eyes drifting away.
Rachel smiled softly. Quinn was obviously either half asleep or drugged. Probably both. Rachel kept her gaze on her wife's face. She had every shade of her eyes, every curve of her lips memorized-for eight years now.
Quinn swallowed and held Rachel's hand by her lips, against the pillow. "My leg hurts."
"It's broken, baby." Rachel said thickly. "The doctors pinned it and put it in a cast."
Quinn was silent. Her gaze flickered back to Rachel and focused on her wife's lips.
"Does your head hurt?" Rachel wondered.
Quinn nodded slightly.
"Does anywhere else hurt?"
Quinn nodded again, and then winced against the pillow. Rachel stroked a hand up and down her forearm.
"Do you remember what happened?" she asked quietly. She felt helpless. Quinn's leg had been caught between the door and the seat when the car plowed into the side of the taxi. Rachel's skin tingled unpleasantly just thinking about it.
Quinn's lips quirked. "I got-did you get your flowers?"
Rachel tipped her head. "I did."
Sort of. The worst way possible to receive flowers.
"They're beautiful, baby."
"You felt…bad about the waffles this morning." Quinn mumbled thickly. She pulled on Rachel's arm until Rachel was standing up and leaning over the bed, giving her a careful hug. Quinn wouldn't let her pull away, and Rachel pressed her lips to soft golden hair and waited.
The door cracked open quietly, and Santana slithered through the gap, eyes wide, a little sweaty. Brittany followed, and then Puck and Kurt, and Rachel moved to sit protectively on the edge of Quinn's bed.
"You guys aren't allowed in here." Rachel chided quietly.
Santana ignored her. "The nurse said she was fine. Is she fine? Is she awake? Tripping? Does she-"
"She'll be alright." Rachel cut her off. She looked fondly down at her wife. "I think she's just sleepy."
"And concussed." Puck added.
Kurt gasped softly. "What if she's amnesic?" He surged toward the bed as if to check for himself.
Santana followed. "Hey, Sunny Delight." She whispered, peering over Kurt's shoulder. "Who am I?"
Quinn sighed heavily and blinked at them. She hugged Rachel's arm closer and shut her eyes. "Rachel." She mumbled.
"She's tired. And drugged." Rachel explained, brushing Quinn's hair back again.
Santana smiled, amused, and Kurt nodded. They just watched Quinn for a moment, going a bit glassy-eyed with Puck and Brittany.
"Can you guys take James tonight?" Rachel asked Santana quietly.
All she'd need was a sheet and she could turn the chair into her bed. She had no plans to leave Quinn's room.
Santana didn't question it, just nodded.
"It'll be like practice." Brittany chirped, patting her own belly.
"They'll turn your baby into their guinea pig." Kurt warned.
Quinn groaned lightly and rolled so that half her face was pressed against the pillow. She opened her eyes and fixed her blurry vision on Santana. "Tell Ra-tell James mommy loves him."
Santana nodded.
"Bring me a guinea pig, Rachel." Quinn whispered, clutching Rachel's arm tighter.
"You're so high." Puck laughed.
Rachel rubbed Quinn's side and nodded indulgently. "I will, baby."
"Where?" Quinn muttered.
Rachel frowned. "Where what?"
"Where will-where will you put it?"
"I'll build it a home." Rachel answered easily. "It can live with Benjamin."
Quinn scoffed into her pillow. "Baby, you can't-you can't put a grin-guinea pig with a cat. It'll swa-swallow it."
Evidently Quinn was under the impression that Benjamin Bunny was a cat. Rachel rolled with it.
"I know, bear."
"You know, some of us have jobs to get to and babies to take care of, so we're gonna go." Santana declared, gesturing at the door. Rachel nodded.
Santana stepped forward and quickly kissed Quinn's head. "I'm glad you're alright, Sunny." She said for the room to hear, and then winked at Rachel. "I'll make sure you remember that Rachel owes you a guinea pig now."
Rachel shrugged. No problem. She'd get a whole fleet of guinea pigs for her crippled, sleepy wife.
"Did you get my…I got you flowers." Quinn murmured after everybody had kissed her head and left.
"How about you try to sleep, honey?" Rachel suggested. "You'll be really sore tomorrow."
Quinn sighed heavily like she was being put out. She grasped Rachel's arm with both hands and pulled it closer-and really, Rachel's arm didn't bend that way-but Rachel twisted her body with it and settled by the bed.
When she was finally able to relax, Rachel realized that she had on two different shoes and that the empty bag of Beggin' Strips was sitting next to her purse.
~oooooooooo~
"So, are you pregnant?" Quinn asked eagerly.
Rachel rolled the wheelchair up to the front door and shrugged. She ran her fingers through Quinn's hair while she searched for her keys.
"You know I wouldn't take the test without you, babe."
Rachel had already explained it twice. Quinn was very much awake, but thoroughly medicated. She kept dropping her hands down to stop her wheels so that Rachel would run into the back of the wheelchair.
Rachel swung the door open and gestured at the stairs that led up to their apartment. "Can you handle crutches, bear? I'll help you."
"I'm-I have bacon in my teeth." Quinn said distractedly.
They'd had breakfast six hours ago. Rachel shook her head and wrapped an arm around her wife's shoulders, helping her to stand. Quinn listed heavily to the left, and Rachel quickly handed her the crutches. Quinn grasped the soft, spongy part and looked at them like they were foreign objects.
"Under your arms, baby." Rachel reminded gently.
Getting a confused, high, excitable, crippled Quinn up the stairs was quite a task. Rachel was panting halfway up like Quinn had been riding on her back-Rachel the burro. Her wife would just have to accept that she would be trapped in the apartment for the next eight weeks.
"I forgot my toothbrush." Quinn remarked, and then turned like she was planning on going all the way back down.
Rachel grasped her shoulders and pointed her in the right direction. "I'll get it. Go straight."
Quinn chuckled and stared at Rachel.
Rachel pressed fruitlessly at her back, trying to get her to move. "Let's go, baby. Hurry up."
"I love you, Rachel." Quinn drawled, ducking her head for a kiss.
Rachel rolled her eyes and allowed one, but pulled away when Quinn nibbled at her lip and clumsily attempted to push her against the wall. They'd both go plummeting to their death. Rachel had never spent so much time on a goddamn staircase.
Quinn dropped her crutches and bent over like she was planning on sitting down.
Rachel seized her arms. "No, no, no, baby. Up. Come on. We're almost there."
Quinn puffed out her cheeks and stood back up. She hopped up the last few steps with her crutches while Rachel hovered behind-ready to catch her-because that would go well.
Rachel opened the door at the top of the stairs and shoved the dogs back so that Quinn could get in. Quinn smiled, delighted, and greeted each one separately while she balanced precariously against a table.
"I miss James." She lamented when Rachel pulled her towards the bedroom.
Rachel hummed, watching Quinn's crutches to make sure they didn't catch on anything. "San and Britt are bringing him back tonight."
Quinn used a crutch to loudly bang open the bedroom door. "We have the bre-best baby, Rachel." She said seriously. "I love him so much."
"Me too." Rachel smiled, settling Quinn on the bed.
She was looking for some pajamas when she heard a loud thump behind her. She turned to find that Quinn had slipped off the bed onto the floor. It would probably be incredibly painful if Quinn could feel anything.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Quinn exclaimed, pointing up at Rachel, dazed. "Are you alright?"
Rachel stared down at her and smothered her laughter. "I'm fine, honey. You need to sit still. Moving around will only make your leg hurt worse."
"I'm…a doctor, Rachel." Quinn rolled her eyes as Rachel helped her back onto the bed. "A DMV. I know-"
"DVM." Rachel inserted quickly, amused. "But please, continue doctor."
"I know…that…my leg…is not really broken." Quinn informed, lying back and staring at the ceiling.
Rachel hummed and moved to tug off Quinn's shirt. "Is that so?"
Quinn nodded. "I fleel-feel fine. I probably just stubbed it."
"You stubbed your leg." Rachel echoed. She kissed the light bruising along Quinn's right side.
Quinn palmed her own boobs when Rachel removed her bra. She held them and looked down at them like she was comparing sizes, brow furrowed, and Rachel was forever regretful that she wasn't filming this. She found a t-shirt and pulled her wife's hands away from her boobs-after tapping them fondly herself- and then threaded Quinn's arms through the holes. She helped Quinn's legs onto the bed and nudged her side.
"Roll over to your side, baby."
Quinn blinked up at her and laughed. "Rachel. I can't-I can't just roll across the world like a tumbleweed!"
Rachel snorted and dropped onto the bed, head in her hands. She shook with silent laughter and Quinn patted her back. Rachel twisted and leaned forward to kiss her. She laughed into Quinn's mouth and Quinn sucked on her lip and wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck.
Rachel pushed Quinn's cheeks together and kissed them, and then her forehead and her nose. She pulled back to help Quinn roll over.
"There's bacon in my teeth." Quinn informed again.
"Really?" Rachel collapsed on her side of the bed and rolled to face Quinn. "After six hours?"
"Get it for me." Quinn whined, opening her mouth widely and leaning towards Rachel.
Rachel scrunched up her face and pushed on Quinn's cheek. "I'm not picking food out of your teeth, bear."
"I need my-my toothbrush." Quinn mumbled, shifting to climb out of bed.
Rachel wrapped an arm around her waist and held her in place. She'd be an anchor until Quinn fell asleep or turned into a rational human again.
"Sleep, Quinn." She instructed.
Quinn rolled back over, shifting onto her elbows to bring her clunky cast with her. Rachel would probably be assaulted by it in the night. She tightened her hold on her wife.
"Are we having a baby?" Quinn murmured, gazing at Rachel.
Rachel smiled softly. "We'll find out when you're not high."
Quinn seemed content with that. Or too far gone to protest it. She snuggled closer to Rachel and finally closed her eyes.
"I have bacon in my teeth, Rachel." She whispered.
~ooooooooooo~
"Are you absolutely sure you're sober? Totally clear-headed?"
Quinn nodded indulgently, perched at the breakfast bar with a bowl of cereal. Her leg was propped up on the next stool.
Rachel searched her face. Her eyes were clear and amused, she was relatively still-as still as Quinn could be-and she'd poured the milk on her Cheerios without spilling it all over the counter.
"What do you need, baby?" Quinn smiled. She swiveled the chair slightly so that she could reach for Rachel's hand.
"Say something competent."
Quinn hummed disappointedly, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I can't do that."
Rachel sighed. "That's right." She declared, playing along. "I forgot you're an incompetent moron."
Quinn laughed into her Cheerios.
Rachel plowed on. "I mean, really, who puts ice cream in their cereal?" she shuffled up behind the chair and rested her head on Quinn's shoulder. She rubbed Quinn's back through the slats. "A fool, baby. That's what fools do."
"Hey." Quinn protested with her mouth full.
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
Quinn chomped loudly. "I chay around wile amals fo a libin."
"Of course, of course." Rachel hummed.
Quinn swallowed and turned to her again. She stared at Rachel for a moment, and then her smile softened and she nodded towards the bathroom.
"Take the test, baby. I'll be right here."
"You're sure you're totally lucid?" Rachel worried. "I can't have you forgetting this moment."
Quinn nodded silently, squeezing Rachel's hand.
"Okay. I'll…be right back." Rachel bit her lip and trotted off to the bathroom. She heard Quinn yelling at Butter while she was in there-a small crash, a whoosh, claws scrabbling against the hardwood-and she returned to the breakfast bar with the two pregnancy tests after a couple minutes.
Quinn sat in the stool with her leg propped up, straining over the counter to wipe up all the spilled cereal.
Rachel rushed to her side and pulled her to sit back. "Don't hurt yourself, baby."
"What do they say?" Quinn swiveled her chair and wrapped an arm around Rachel's waist. She peered eagerly at the pregnancy tests while Rachel dropped a dish towel over the milk.
"Wait another minute, bear."
Quinn bounced her knee and picked at the top of her cast. It was purple-up to her thigh-and signed by all of their friends. Rachel's signature was massive, shoving everybody else to the side. Brittany had drawn a picture of Flappy near Quinn's foot, and James had haphazardly scribbled on her knee when Rachel gave him a marker to play with.
Rachel took Quinn's hand away from picking at the gauze and then glanced at the clock on her phone. "I think it's been long enough." She murmured.
She went to look at the tests, but Quinn tilted in front of her and kissed her instead. She ducked to catch Rachel's gaze when she pulled back.
"Whatever it says, I love you and James more than anything in the world." She said seriously, inches from Rachel's face.
Rachel smiled as her face grew warm. "Me too, baby. I love you."
Quinn nodded resolutely and moved so that they could look at the pregnancy tests.
Rachel squinted as she studied them. Both had minus signs.
Not pregnant.
Rachel felt tears well unexpectedly in her eyes. Quinn had her in her arms instantly-clumsy, because she was rooted to her seat. She kissed the side of Rachel's head.
"We'll try again, baby." She assured.
Rachel gave a wavering sigh.
"We got lucky with James, getting pregnant on the first go." Quinn said softly, right against Rachel's ear. "We'll just try again."
Rachel rubbed at her face and shook her head. "We can't."
Quinn frowned. "What? She pulled back so that she could see Rachel's eyes.
Jelly traipsed through the spilled milk on the counter, leaving little white footprints in her wake.
"Your leg." Rachel gestured at the cast. Her voice was unnaturally high because she felt like crying. "You can't-we can't-we'll have to wait until it heals. A few months."
Quinn stared at her, legitimately surprised. Her hazel eyes searched Rachel's face. "Rachel. Do you really think this cast is going to stop me from having sex with you for eight weeks?"
Yes. It was like a third person lying in bed with them. Solid and heavy and absolutely immobile. It depressed Rachel.
"You'll hurt yourself." Rachel said sadly.
"Rachel." Quinn waited until she had her wife's gaze. "We are having sex, baby." She blinked and shook her head around. "I'm-I mean, please. If you'd like to. It may involve some contortion, and you know maybe I should just stop wear-wearing pants because they'll be so hard to get off with this cast, and I'll just-we'll be very careful when we do it."
Quinn seemed so earnest. So worried that Rachel would stop having sex with her because of her broken leg.
Rachel had to laugh. "You'll stop wearing pants?"
Quinn nodded quickly. "I'll only be do-doing work from home-consulting and stuff for a couple weeks-so I don't-what's the point? They'll just get in the way."
Naked at every opportunity. Rachel smiled.
"I know how much you want this." Quinn said quietly. She reached up and tugged on Rachel's ears. "Me too. We're trying again and we're not going to stop until you're carrying our little baby. You know polar bears have one of the lowest reproduction rates of all mammals? It just takes some time."
Rachel was silent for a moment.
"Promise?" She asked timidly. "What if it takes-"
"Two or twelve or twenty times, no bother." Quinn shrugged. "I need a brown-eyed, loud-mouthed little baby. I mean, I know I'm incompetent, but-"
Rachel covered her wife's mouth with her hand.
She watched Quinn's smiling eyes, felt her bite at her palm, bobbled her head around when Quinn pulled on her ears. She couldn't imagine what would happen if she'd lost her. The world would stop spinning. Literally nothing would matter, because everything that did was wrapped up in Quinn's gaze.
Rachel and James. That was the world.
Quinn pried Rachel's hand off her mouth. She pulled her in by her ears and kissed her deeply-because she was just always able to tell when Rachel was going a bit round the bend. Rachel tipped her forehead against Quinn's right as James started crying.
Quinn smiled sweetly at her wife. She played with the hem of her dress, tugging it up a bit. "So…would you like to start now? Or tonight? After lunch?"
Rachel chuckled. She kissed her wife's cheek. "Incompetent moron."
"Clean up my cereal, baby" Quinn poked Rachel's ribs.
"Can you get yourself to the couch?"
Quinn nodded. She slid carefully off the stool when Rachel stepped back, and then used a single crutch to bunny hop herself to the couch. She knocked into the arm and clumsily collapsed sideways across it, but rolled over and smiled widely at Rachel, far too pleased with herself.
Rachel shook her head. "Use both next time." She said, pointing at her wife.
Quinn kept smiling.
"And…we're starting after lunch." Rachel muttered, and then hurried off to James's room.