Author's note: This chapter is rated M because of content. Please be advised. Thanks for reading!
Chapter 3- I Thought She Knew
Suggested listening: The last song from NSync's album, No Strings Attached, "I Thought She Knew"
I am sitting in the backseat of Sam's car, wrapped up in memories of you. My mind was given a small reprieve, after talking with my wife. My wife, I remind myself. I shouldn't be thinking about you, Rachel, but how can I not? We all might lose you; I might lose you again. Or perhaps it was that I was really losing you for the first time because you had lost me first.
I am trying to remember THE day; the day when it all fell apart. Because for so long, it was you, Rachel. I saw you that first day of Freshman year, thru the sea of McKinley students and something in me shifted. It was as if I wasn't really living until that moment. All that sappy shit people say when they talk about love at first sight, I felt it. It was something I was wholly unprepared for. I remember taking a step back, as if I could rewind and erase what I just saw. But why would I want to do that? You were so breathtaking; I could feel my breath being carried away by you. I looked at you from afar, not even knowing your name yet. I knew that I was forever changed in that instant. The thing is that you didn't know that; how could you know? Once I laid eyes on Rachel Barbra Berry, my life would never be the same. I often wondered what was her first impression of me. I don't think I have ever actually asked her. Was it as life-altering as mine? Was it a revelation? Or was I just another somebody in the crowd. I knew it. Rachel was supposed to be my once in a lifetime, my happy ending come true. I was so sure of it, as sure as the air that I breathe. I guess I should have told her that but I thought she knew. The thing is, though, is that Rachel wasn't. It was Santana who was "the one."
She said I took her for granted which is the furthest thing from the truth. If anything, I overcompensated my love because of what happened. Never, ever did I take you, Rachel, and what we had for granted. I thought she knew that my world revolved around her. Rachel should have known that my heart burned for her alone. It was my fault. I did this to us. All I had to do was look in the mirror and see that I was the one to blame. Because if I truly did believe in our love and believed in us, we never would have broken up. There were just so many words left unspoken between us. The seven seas are not enough to fill the void of words left unsaid. I didn't even need words. I just had to look at you and we both knew it was over. Just like that...
But I wished that I could have told you, Rachel. I would have told you how sorry I was and how much I loved you. Actually, I did tell you those things and you told them back to me. So, how could we love each other, even be in love with each other, and still break-up? I thought you knew all of that and I was hoping you had the answer. But, I guess that if you did, we would probably still be together. It is crazy to think that one thing can completely change your entire world. Breaking up with you was my fault. I broke us when I was broken. I didn't know how to fix me, let alone how to fix us. I honestly don't know what I could have done differently. I have thought it over so many times, in every which way, but the solution I always came up with was this: leaving you and leaving us. All the rationalizations, I believed in them, instead of believing in us. But what did you expect me to do? I was hurting too.
Rachel, you had already been cast in the off-off-broadway revival of Rent, cast in Shelby's role as the ex-girlfriend turned lesbian. They were in talks to bring it back on The Great White Way, as people in the biz say. By then, I was in Shelby's life because of Beth. Puck was also back in my life, as he is Beth's father. We were our own nuclear unit: you with your birth mother, Shelby as Beth's mom and me, as Beth's biological mother. Shelby's business of broadway "day care" and pre-school was thriving. Beth was kind of the first student and now she was in 1st grade. I loved my little girl so much. She thought that it was awesome to have so many people who loved her. She would say she had 2 mommies, 1 daddy and 1 big sister. Most kids were lucky if that had one parent. Beth essentially had 4 parents and we all had so much love to shower our little girl with.
Santana was making plans to join me at Yale for medical school the following September. Brittany had already completed all of her credits at Julliard and was currently on Beyonce's world tour. Santana and her never got back together, even though we all hoped that they would. I knew that Brittana were still hung up on each other, even after all this time. It's just that timing is a bitch and it never matched up again for the two of you. We were looking forward to seeing Brittany in May, when we would all graduate. Tina was a junior at Julliard, along with Blaine. Kurt was with you Rachel, at NYADA. Arty was a junior at your alma mater, Columbia, babe. Everything was perfect. It was all a little too perfect.
It was just that one night. The night my world went black; the night I was raped. When he violated me, he violated the sanctity of us, too. Lars roofied my drink and date raped me. He took a piece of my soul that I will never, ever get back. Apparently, he took the piece that was tethered to you. I died that night, a thousand times over. The thing that kept me going was thinking of you and how much I loved you. Maybe that was what tainted us. Because thinking of you and our love made me remember something I never wanted to remember again. It is not your fault, nor is it mine. It is his. He took all of my power, strength, and love away and left me empty, barren, and bare. I was so very broken, splintered into slivers of myself. And you tried your best to make me whole again. I knew it; I felt it. I wanted to be whole again so badly, if not for me, but for you, Rachel. I just couldn't get it together.
I was thrust into a deep depression a few weeks after it happened. I was so ashamed that it happened to me, that I "let it" happen. I knew that all these thoughts were ridiculous, but I couldn't stop them from coming. How could someone as smart as me allow this to happen to myself? You were amazing from the beginning. You could almost anticipate what I needed before I could even ask, that was how connected we were. But it was like I was in a canoe with only one oar and you were on the shore, encouraging me to come back towards you. Each day, I would row closer and closer to you, only to have a wave of shame and darkness hold me back. The days of wanting to come back to you were fewer and far between. Yet, you still stood by my side, not pushing me, just being there with me. I just didn't want to make you have to go through it with me: the dirty, ugly parts of me. I was too scared to remember; all I wanted to do was forget. I believed that if I could just forget that night, we could go back to the way we were. What an idyllic thought! We could be happy again...No! We could even happier than we were, if only that night didn't exist. If only I never met Lars; if only I didn't go to his apartment that night; if only I refused that glass of red wine.
I started to live in that life: where it never happened. I rowed my way back to you and you took me back in. It was like it was perfect. The key word is "like." It was the farthest thing from perfect but I just wanted to feel close to you again. I pushed you away so many times and I knew that it hurt you every single time. I wanted to gather you up in my arms and carry us away from that life of disappointment, shame, and resentment. I wanted to take us to a place where our love would survive and thrive. Rachel, you thought you had finally done it; that I had a break-thru. And, maybe I did, just not the one you were hoping and expecting.
I was initiating all of the physical contact between us. We hadn't made love since the incident and that was months and months ago. Again, you never pushed me, but I could tell that you missed me- that you missed us. And I really wanted to so badly, my heart did. I just didn't know if I could mentally and physically handle it. It was all I talked about in therapy: how much I wanted to make love to my girlfriend, but all I could think was that he was the last one to see me naked and vulnerable. The void in my heart that he took away from me will never be filled. There will always be a missing piece, right next to the one reserved for you. That night changed me forever. It also changed you forever. He took away so much me from me and now he was taking my love for you away. I needed to grab a hold of myself before I lost you.
I was able to make love to you and I remembered how amazing your body feels and how wonderful you make me feel. I just couldn't let you make love to me. I was never more ashamed of myself: naked and underneath you, because all I could see was him. I knew that it was you and your hands and your voice. But I couldn't stop the thoughts in my head and I just couldn't let you do what I wanted so much. You thought you did something wrong and you did absolutely nothing wrong. You wanted to show me how much you loved me, how much you missed me, how you adored me. I knew all of those things were true but you wanted to physically show your love for me and I wouldn't let you. Rachel, I knew that was what broke you, when I dissolved in your arms in the throes of lovemaking. How could I expect you to want me after that debacle?
I thought I was being the bigger person, biting the bullet, not postponing the inevitable. The thing is that I didn't really give you a choice. I broke up with you because I wanted to break-up with myself. I didn't want to keep dragging you down with me. I needed to separate from you because I didn't want to keep disappointing you. I was tired of the way you looked at me: full of love and concern, which I didn't deserve. I was so unlovable, I didn't know what you saw in me. I hated myself, who I had become, what he made me become. He turned me into somebody I didn't recognize anymore. He took the best part of me that night- the part that was your Quinn, your love. I was no longer that Quinn; I couldn't be anymore. He tainted us by ruining me. He took us away when he pushed my skirt up and forced himself on me, while I was passing in and out of consciousness.
Lars was the TA in my Baroque Period art history class. It was our spring semester of our Senior year and everything was perfect, until it wasn't. If that one night could be wiped clean from of my memory, I am certain that it would be you, instead of Santana. Lars and I started to hang out, because (as always) I was one of the brilliant students in the class, already accepted to Yale's Ph.D program. He was in his second year and we got along fabulously. He was always flirty with me; heck, I even flirted back at him. Maybe I was leading him on, but he knew about you, because you were all I talked about. I thought about proposing to you, even, but you didn't know that back then. I think that semester, we were our happiest ever; that one night was the game changer. The night he took my innocence away. Well, I wasn't so innocent but I did believe in the best of people; at the heart of each person is goodness. He took away my faith in people and my faith in myself.
I was blindsided by Lars and had no chance in hell. It was all pre-meditated. Thankfully (maybe) I didn't realize what was happening until he was on top of me. Of course, I had sex with boys. I mean that was how Beth happened. But I could hear him yelling and grunting that he was "straightening me out" and showing me "what a only a man can do." That is why I went where I went. Of course, I my mind would drift to you. Saying it was the worst night of my life was putting it mildly. I died that night. When he rolled off of me, I got up and staggered out of his bedroom, he didn't care. Lars probably thought the drug would make me forget, as if that was possible. He had a smug look, as if "it" worked. I went straight to the Yale campus police and they took me to the ER. That was where you found me, after they had completed the rape kit. I don't even know if he used a condom. I am guessing that he didn't. Lars was charged with one count of sexual assault and pleaded not guilty. He was sentenced to 12 years. After the trial, I never saw him again.
Going thru the whole ordeal: the line-up, the court drama, the trial, you were with me everyday. Rachel, you were my strength when I had none. Those weeks and months were a haze and I was barely keeping it together. Thankfully, I did have evidence on my side, with the rape kit and the date rape drug in my system. Lars couldn't mount a defense to the indisputable exhibits. I still had to tell my side of the story and I had sit thru him telling the court that, "I wanted it" and "I am the best lay you have ever had, Fabray." His true colors came out while he was on the stand. He planned on getting me in bed from the moment he met me. It turns out that I wasn't the first woman he date raped. My testimony encouraged 3 other victims to come forward. That swarmy bastard bragged on and on how he bagged such hot chicks. Apparently, I was the trophy: the gay one. His homophobic rant even disgusted his own defense attorney.
Once it was all over, I thought I could just pick up where we left off. I assumed I could just press "play" on the life I had paused. By then, we had all graduated. I was in the middle of my fall semester of my Art History Ph.D program at Yale. I refused to take the semester off. I couldn't let him "win" and take more of life away from me. Santana had started medical school and moved in with me, which made you glad that I wouldn't be alone all the time. Brittany was back on tour and Rent was advanced to off-Broadway with serious talks of bringing it back on Broadway in the spring. Everyone's lives moved forward, they had to. I did too, at least academically. I thrust myself into this subject that I loved. From the outside, I looked like I was doing okay. Being in the Cheerios and hiding who I was for so long gave me the skills I needed to pretend. I was good at presenting a well-adjusted person, while I was dying inside. Rachel, I know that you saw thru my front, but what could you really do? Even Santana knew it; she could see my tells and signs- after all, she also had a front seat to that Quinn. I was meaner and colder; I lost the light behind my eyes and the warmth in my heart. My heart still did beat and bleed for you- I still did love you so very much, Rachel. But what could I expect? How could I expect you to save me when I didn't want to be saved? I didn't want any more pity or help. I was so very tired to living separate lives that I refused to intersect. There was the brainiac Quinn at Yale, girlfriend Quinn, and the scariest of all, despondent Quinn. She was the one who was winning the battle for domination, despite my best efforts. She was the one who decided to break up with you, Rachel. The smaller, weaker part of me couldn't escape the pummels of hatred and hopelessness of this Quinn. Girlfriend Quinn tried to claw and scratch out from under her grip, but it was no use. I could see the toll I was taking on you. I wanted to set you free from obligations because that was how I felt to you. I was someone you had to take care of because I couldn't and wouldn't take care of myself. I saw the love dimming in your eyes, overtaken by pity, disappointment, and sadness. You would never tell me that your love was diminishing, I could feel it. So, I believed I was doing what was best for both of us. You deserved to be with someone whole, not me, fractured in a million pieces. You deserved so much more and better that I could give you. I was being selfish and I was holding you back. Maybe I believed by letting go of us and setting you free, I could also be free.
It was raining that day, just like today. You had set your things down on the table. You even brought me my favorite yellow tulips. You told me that they made you think of me and they made you smile. I did smile when I saw them and when I saw you in your raincoat and plaid wellies, shaking the rain out of your hair. I still remember how breathtaking your looked before I broke your heart. You still believed in me; you still believed in us. And I about to steal that away from you. Maybe I was being selfish; l was definitely being stupid. I had rehearsed what I wanted to say to you all day long. I waited expectantly for you to come home. I knew what I had to do, but I couldn't, at least not right away. I was filled with love for you and I wanted to feel you, one last time.
I helped you out of your raincoat and embraced you strong in my arms. You could tell that something was amiss, but I just kissed your worries away. I rarely initiated intimate physical contact between us anymore and I could feel you come alive beneath my kiss. I could feel you unfurl your stress and I could feel myself awaken within you. I knew that our love was strong, Rachel. I just wish that it was strong enough. It was the one thing that kept me going through all of this.
We kissed forever and forever standing still in time. If only we could exist in a vacuum, where the grains of sand in the hourglass stopped flowing, I think I could be okay. All I would need is you and all you would need is me. In that moment, I felt happy- the happiest I had felt in forever, as I led you to our bedroom. You let me dictate the pace and I took my time. I knew that this would be our last time together and I wanted to make awesome memories that I could soothe both of us. Rach, I think you were just so overjoyed in my actions, in my touches and smiles. You even told me that you could see the light back in my eyes; that you could feel the warmth in my embrace. You could see the love I had for you seeping out of my body, enveloping you like a warm blanket. It was all true because that was exactly what I was doing. I was making love to you for the last time. The difficult part was allowing you to make love to me. We had come close before, but I always made you stop. This time, I wasn't going to stop you. No matter what, I wanted to give you my all, this one last time. It was scary and felt like our first time again, with tentative touches and whispered assurances. It wasn't our first time but it was our last time together. We held each other afterwards, legs tangled, as I stroked your hair, you could tell. You knew. I knew. And we both cried ourselves to sleep, not saying a word. I left you in the morning. I didn't want to ruin the perfection of the night. I already had a plan in place. I didn't see you again, not until the paramedics were taking me to the ER, after my failed suicide attempt.
After I broke-up with you, I tried to kill myself. I left a note and everything. I took all my anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and sedatives right after you left our apartment crying. I placed the letter addressed to you on your side of the bed, swallowed all of the pills, and just waited to fall into forever slumber. But you sent Santana to check on me. In your despair, you knew that I was hurting too. She saved my life, just in time. Much later, Santana told me she had a feeling that I was up to something. She said it was the way I was acting: all of a sudden, being happy, giving prized possessions away, not making immediate future plans- these were all signs. Obviously, she would know because she was a volunteer at the Trevor Project's suicide hotline. When Rachel called her, Santana dropped everything and called Yale campus police. As I was slipping away, I could here them outside our door, banging and yelling at me to open it. But, I didn't want to live anymore; not like that and not without you. They rammed the door in and took me away in a blur. Rachel, you were there and you reached for my hand as they rushed me away. Feeling your hand in mind, after everything I did to us, that was what gave me strength and hope when I needed it the most.
In the end, that night changed us forever in the right way. Because I have my Santana and you have your Brittany, and we still have each other. It is just not in the way we thought we would. We have essentially swapped partners. So, I still get a tiny piece of you, because you once loved me the way that you love Brittany, and Brittany now loves you. You always did love me the most and I did love you the most, too. It just wasn't a "you & I forever" kind of love. Well, I thought it was. Lightening struck me twice and I am fortunate to have known your love and to have the love of my wife. But that infinitesimal ribbon of our love still remains, as it always will, because that kind of love never dies.
"Quinn, we are here," Sam says after he parks his car in the visitor parking spot.
"You okay, Q?" Tina asks, full of concern.
I wipe the few tears that escape my eyes. I need to get it together for Barby and Noah's sake.
"Yeah, Tina, I'll be right behind you..." I answer as I take a couple of deep breaths to compose myself, before I follow them into the elevator. Tina takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
"I sure hope that San was able to find Britt." she says to us.
"I am sure she has by now, Tina. I need to bring the kids back over the her and Rachel."
Just as I say that, the elevator opens to our floor. I walk to the front door of our home and enter the key. Barby opens the door before I can even turn it.
"Your mom and the baby are alive." I tell her, before she collapses in my arms.
