Author's Note: Yeah, I suck. Sorry for the wait. Enjoy.
They sat in silence while Rachel cried and Quinn held her hand. Something had happened today, something with Finn, and Quinn knew Rachel would talk about it when and if she wanted to. It was just important for Quinn to be there for her. After a while, Rachel finally took the sheet covering her and wiped her eyes. "You changed the words of the song," she said with a sniffle.
Of course that's what Rachel Berry would focus on, Quinn thought, smiling. "Yes, well, I like my version better."
"Me too," Rachel said quietly.
"I'm glad you knew it," Quinn said. "I looked it up last night. You said your favorite TV show was iCarly, and so I was looking around on Wikipedia. Did you know the guy that makes that show is the same guy that made Zoey 101?"
Rachel loosed a small wet chuckle. "I did. I used to watch it all the time when I was younger."
"Oh. Me too." They shared a smile. Who knew they would actually have stuff in common? "So I went through my CDs and found it on the soundtrack. I always thought the line was 'so here in my way' instead of 'so hear it my way'. Until last night, anyway, when I was learning to sing it."
"You did a really good job," Rachel said.
Quinn waited for some kind of criticism or the backhanded part of that compliment, but it didn't come. "That's it?" Quinn asked with a grin. "You're not going to tell me I was sharp or suggest how I could improve or anything?"
Rachel shook her head, hair falling to partially hide her face. "Nope. I liked it. I liked how you changed the bridge, too."
Quinn reached over and brushed Rachel's hair back, letting her hand glide through it and come to rest on her cheek. Rachel wore a small smile and was blushing a little, and it made Quinn suddenly warm. Shy. She hadn't really planned on changing the words. Driving to the hospital, she had only planned on singing the song the way it was supposed to be sung. It had been a spur of the moment idea to change the words for Rachel.
Quinn took her hand away from Rachel's face, and looked down to see her other hand still linked with Rachel's brace covered one. "I wanted to let you know that I'd take care of you," Quinn said, suddenly bashful and unable to meet Rachel's inquisitive gaze. "You weren't going to sing it, and the words… it sounded like a request to me, you know. 'Shelter my eyes from the sun'. I wanted to let you know that… that you don't have to ask. That I'll do it anyway."
Rachel didn't respond until Quinn looked back up and into her eyes. "Why?" Quinn wasn't sure how to answer, or even sure of the question, really, so Rachel went on. "I mean, why are you here? Why are you trying to help me? Why did…" She paused, staring at Quinn like she couldn't decide whether she wanted to ask it or not. "Why did you save me? How did you even know to save me? I just… I just don't understand any of…," she waved a hand at Quinn… "you. Your involvement. So… yeah. Why?"
"Oh, wow," Quinn said with a chuckle. "That's a loaded question." She finally pulled away from Rachel's hand to sit up straighter, pushing her hands through her hair before setting them back on the arms of the chair.
"It was… God, this sounds so stupid to say out loud, and I know you may not believe me, but I think… I think it was divine intervention." Rachel stared at Quinn skeptically, and she knew it had to sound like the dumbest, most implausible thing on Earth, but there it was. "I was listening to that Christmas song you sang last year, the one from the Grinch on your MySpace page. Then I just kind of wanted to see what else you had sung and I got to the top and saw the video and when it was posted." She was quiet for a second, remembering how weird it had felt. "There were only nine minutes between when you posted it and when I saw it."
"So you really did see the video?" Rachel asked. "I kind of remembered you saying that the other night, but I wasn't sure if you'd really said it or if I'd just imagined it. Some things from that night are a little hazy."
"Well, you were really drunk," Quinn said, then paused, thinking. That had seemed so out of character for Rachel, but, then again, so had everything in the last few days. "What was up with that, by the way? You never really seemed like the drinking kind. I was surprised to see you so drunk and so… angry."
Rachel dropped her eyes away from the blonde, staring down at her lap as her fingers played with each other. "Sorry about that," she said in a small voice.
"You don't have to apologize," Quinn said automatically, reaching out a hand to still Rachel's. "I knew you weren't yourself. Like I said, I was just surprised."
"I… I read that alcohol could thin the blood," Rachel said, looking up at Quinn. "I thought if I was drunk then I would… I would bleed out faster. And, I thought that I'd be less likely to chicken out if I was drunk. You know, liquid courage and all that."
"Oh." Quinn said simply. It made sense that Rachel Berry would have planned all this out. She planned out everything. It still broke her heart, though, imagining Rachel actually planning out her own death. "Are you…" She paused, unsure if she should actually be asking this. She felt she needed to know. "Are you mad at me? Mad that I stopped you?"
"I…" Quinn's breath hitched in her throat. She felt sure she was going to lie to her. But then… "Yes. Sometimes." Rachel looked over at Quinn and could see how her face had fallen. "But sometimes I'm not," she said quickly, reassuringly. "It's… I've had a lot of time to think since Saturday. It's all I've been doing, really. Thinking and talking to my therapist. And what I've come to is that I don't really know how I feel. I wish… I really do wish that it was some kind of life-altering experience. That I suddenly woke up and was glad to be alive. But it's not. I'm not. I'm still trapped in this same life, and all that's different now is that I know I can't try suicide again because I don't want to hurt my dads. It still hurts every day, all the time. But there are… there are things that make it better. Like talking to Dr. Richards. And when you're here."
"Me?" Quinn was taken aback. Rachel had said she'd meant the words, too, that 'everything is worse' when she was gone. Quinn just thought that it meant Rachel had had a bad day before she'd gotten there. Not that… "Talking to me makes it better? Why? I mean, I'm glad, but… why?"
Rachel shook her head, almost like she didn't understand it, either, like she was still trying to figure it out. "I don't know. I guess, maybe, since you've seen me at my absolute worst, it's easier to be honest with you. Which is good, I guess, because Dr. Richards said that I need to be more honest with people. I look at my dads, and they just seem so hurt and so sad all the time, and I know I can't be honest with them about things. I can't hurt them anymore. And Dr. Richards, he's been great, really, and I can tell him anything, but he's just… He's a doctor, and he's going to listen, but it's like he's judging me, because, you know, he literally is judging me. Whether I'm sane enough to get out of the hospital tomorrow or not." Rachel paused, breathing a little quicker.
It's been a while since she's been on a rant like that, Quinn thought, waiting quietly for Rachel to continue. She's been so shut down since Finn dumped her. She's out of practice.
"And then there's you," Rachel said. "You've seen me at my worst, and you've saved my life, and yet…" The word drug out between them, and Rachel turned away to look out the window. "I don't know if I can trust you."
Quinn was about to ask why Rachel couldn't trust her, but of course she already knew. After everything she'd done to the girl in the past, it was astounding Rachel was even letting her sit there. "I understand," she said quietly. "I wouldn't trust me either. I know it's not a consolation at this point, but I really am sorry for everything. For all the slushies and insults and—"
"I didn't say that to get another apology from you," Rachel said, turning back and locking eyes with Quinn. "I just wanted you to understand where I was coming from. How screwed up my life is right now. The only person I feel really comfortable talking to, and I can't trust them not to go and use it to hurt me."
"Rachel—"
"But then, yesterday," Rachel said, interrupting again. "You told Daddy about your black eye. About how you got it." She suddenly seemed shy now. "About how… about how you fought for me. You did fight for me, right?"
It was Quinn's instinct to lie, to push away the feelings and keep with the lie she'd told Rachel yesterday about falling. That's how things were in the Fabray household. Anything that could be potentially embarrassing or make the Fabrays look bad was pushed down, ignored, or outright lied about. Looking at the girl, though, how she was pleading for it to be true, Quinn knew she couldn't. "Yes."
"Again… why?" Rachel asked.
Quinn looked away and sighed. Her whole life, she'd been taught to lie, to keep people from finding out about anything personal. Yet here was this little broken girl demanding answers from her. "Rachel… God, I don't know. I just—"
"Quinn," Rachel said, a glimmer of the bossy diva attitude bubbling up to the surface, monotone voice momentarily forgotten. "I just told you that I'm trying to be honest with you, and that I'm having trust issues here. The least you could do is try to be honest with me. If we're honest with each other, that could be an excellent basis of our burgeoning friendship. Especially since you've previously stated that you would be interested in us being friends."
Quinn smiled. She'd missed the Rachel-speak, even if it was still kind of grating. It reminded her of the old Rachel, the one that conquered life rather than was crushed by it. If being honest brought that Rachel back, then honesty was what Quinn would do. But for a price…
"Have you ever seen Silence of the Lambs?" Quinn asked.
Rachel crossed her arms and huffed, which caused Quinn to grin anew. "No. And you're changing the subject."
"No, it's related, I promise," Quinn said. "It's about this FBI woman who's tracking down this serial killer, but she needs the help of another serial killer that's already in prison. He's a psychiatrist also, the second killer, so he's interested in people. So in exchange for information, he asks her personal questions and she has to answer honestly or he won't help her. He calls it 'quid pro quo'." Quinn went suddenly silent, nervous that Rachel might think her suggestion stupid.
"And…?"
"Well…" Quinn started. "What if we did something like that? Like, you can ask me a question and I have to answer it honestly, then I'll ask you a question, and you have to answer it honestly. Nothing's off limits. That way, you can know I won't go and tell your secrets or anything because you'll know mine and could just as easily go and tell them." She paused while Rachel stared down at her lap, biting at her bottom lip. When the brunette didn't say anything, Quinn added, "I mean, we don't have to. Like, if you think it's stupid or something…"
"No, I don't think it's stupid," Rachel said quickly, finally looking up. "I'm just… surprised… that you would be willing to do that. You always seem so private. I know it's one of the things Finn complained about when he was dating you. He said he never knew where he stood with you. I don't get why you'd be willing to do that with me."
"Because you need it," Quinn said quickly before she had a chance to over think it. "And because I'm partly to blame for you being here. If I hadn't torn you down every day for a year and a half, maybe you'd have… I don't know… cared about yourself more or something. You wouldn't have felt this was necessary. I want to make up for what I've done. That's why I want to help you. If being honest with you- if getting you to trust me can help, then that's what I want to do."
Rachel started to say something, but Quinn cut her off quickly. "That's why I got in a fight yesterday. There was this girl. A Cheerio. And she was saying some stuff about you, about how she wished…" Quinn stopped, unable to say the words. "Anyway, I just kind of lost it and jumped her and started punching her. Sue pulled us apart and announced that anyone else caught making fun of you would be cut immediately. And that anyone else in the school who wasn't a Cheerio that did or said anything bad about you would face the 'wrath of Sue'."
Rachel stared wide-eyed. "She… she did that for me?"
"Yeah," Quinn said. "I couldn't believe it either." Quinn shook her head. "I'm always surprised when Sue actually cares about people. First with Kurt about the whole Karofsky thing, and now with you."
"She's always seemed so scary and cold," Rachel said, looking thoughtful. "And the way she keeps trying to 'crush the Glee Club'. I never thought she'd do something like that. Especially for…" She cut off, embarrassed.
"You deserve it as much as anyone," Quinn responded to her unspoken statement. Rachel looked like she was about to object, but Quinn cut her off. "My turn now. I get to ask you a question since I answered yours… I think." She was suddenly doubtful.
Rachel laughed at the blonde's scrunched up face. "It was more of a question jumble than an actual single question," she said with a chuckle. "But it's okay. You can ask yours now."
Quinn smiled, glad to see she was playing along. "Good." But her expression turned quickly serious again. "When I came in you were crying…" She trailed off, wondering how exactly to phrase what she was asking.
"That's not a question," Rachel said, the slight smile that had been playing at her lips quickly disappearing.
"You're right, it's not. Sorry," Quinn said. "I guess it's… why were you crying when I came in today?"
"I…" Rachel started, then gave a weary sigh. "If I say I don't know, would you actually believe me?"
"Maybe?" Quinn offered, reaching out and rubbing the girl's bicep encouragingly a couple of times before sitting back. "Why not just tell me what happened, then?"
"I… I had a bad day," Rachel said simply. For a moment, Quinn thought she was going to leave it at that, but soon she was talking, the words rushing out in a frantic pace that left both of them feeling confused. Rachel told Quinn about her Will and Emma visiting and how Will tried to make her feel better by talking about his own suicidal thoughts.
"Over an exam? Really?" Quinn thought it was silly, compared to what had happened to Rachel, and she couldn't keep from scoffing at their teacher as she said it.
"I know, right?" Rachel said, shaking her head.
She told Quinn about her realization that someone might sing for her, to which Quinn quickly looked up, though she didn't interrupt. She talked about her session with Dr. Richards, even when Quinn said she didn't need to tell her about that. It was private, after all. "I don't mind," Rachel said, nervously. "It's nice to tell someone who seems to care and acts like they're interested."
"Rachel," Quinn said, patting her hand. "I'm not acting interested. I am interested. And I do care."
She talked about Mike and Tina and Puck coming, and Tina's apologetic crying, and how she had asked her to leave. Secretly, Quinn thought it was kind of rude, but she couldn't fault Rachel, not really. How many of Quinn's "friends" in Cheerios had bailed on her when she had turned up pregnant? It was the opposite with Rachel, these people suddenly wanting to befriend her only after she'd ended up here. If you're not there for the good and the bad, you're not really a friend, she thought. She also tried not to notice how that applied to her, and how she was apparently the exception to that rule.
Rachel told her about Kurt, Mercedes, and the Warbler named Blaine coming later, and how they had tried to sing for her. "I couldn't let them," Rachel said, voice heavy with unshed tears, pleading for Quinn to understand. "They didn't mean what they were singing. After Dr. Richards said it's like my window to the world… to have them come in and sing about being my friend… I just couldn't."
Rachel stared out the window until Quinn's voice broke the silence. "You let me sing to you, though," she said simply, almost reverently. It was like the Rachel had let her in on a secret, shared a piece of her world, and Quinn was moved beyond words. It may not be the friendship she was hoping for, not yet, but it was a step in the right direction.
"You were honest," Rachel said, looking back at her, a tear trailing down her cheek. Quinn reached up and wiped it away and Rachel leaned into her palm. They shared a look, a moment that seemed to stop the world just for them. There was a nurse in the room watching them, patients and doctors moved outside the door, cars passed on the street below, and yet… for a moment, they were the only two people in the world.
A knock on the door caused Quinn to jump back, silently cursing whoever was there. Rachel looked down bashfully at her hands, while Quinn stood quickly, nervously. "I'll get it," she said, moving towards the door and fighting the blush that painted her cheeks and neck.
Opening the door, Quinn was just able to make out that it was Brittany and Artie before she was wrapped in the taller girl's arms. "Quinn!" Brittany squealed, clutching a stuffed duck in her hands as she pulled back. "I called your house to see if you'd come with me to visit Rachel, but your mom said you'd probably be here already. I got Artie to come with me instead. I was worried I'd get lost and wander into the wrong part of the hospital and end up doing surgery on someone accidentally… again. I don't like blood."
Quinn couldn't help but smile at the Cheerio's infectious happiness. It was like she was filled with sunshine. "Hi, Britts," Quinn said then smiled down at her wheelchaired boyfriend. "Hey, Artie." Looking back at Brittany, she said, "Let me just see if Rachel's feeling up to any more visitors today, okay?"
"Okay," Brittany said, grinning. Quinn stepped back into the room and pulled the door partially closed, turning back to see Rachel who had been staring at the door, awaiting her return.
"It's Brittany and Artie," Quinn said, stepping closer to Rachel's bedside. "Brittany wanted to come visit, and she brought Artie with her. She said she didn't want to get lost." Rachel stared uncertainly up at Quinn. "If you don't want to have any more visitors right now, or at all, I'll tell them whatever you want me to. It's up to you. But if it makes you feel better, Brittany seemed really upset yesterday after she found out." Realizing what she had implied, her eyes widened and she quickly added, "Not that her feeling bad would make you happy. I didn't mean to say that. I just meant that—"
"Tell her I brought her a present!" Brittany yelled through the door, probably startling patients and doctors in the adjoining rooms.
A smile broke out over Quinn's face. It's not like Rachel couldn't hear her yelling. No, Quinn had to pass the message. Sometimes she couldn't help but love Britts. "And apparently she brought you a present."
Rachel looked thoughtful for a second, but finally nodded as if agreeing to some life-altering event. Quinn almost laughed at her, because, really, how dramatic could someone be? Thankfully she held it in. Even if she was trying to be there for Rachel and help her get back to normal, she still sometimes found it difficult to be around the girl without mocking her. Feelings didn't change overnight, and Quinn needed to work on the little things like that as well as the big ones. She'd apologized to her and had truly meant it, but there were still vestiges of her past behavior that stuck out. That need to mock Rachel for being her overly dramatic self was one of them.
Quinn walked back to the door, and opened it, taking in a nervous looking Brittany and Artie. "You guys can come in," she said, stepping back and allowing them into the room. Brittany pushed Artie, keeping him a barrier between herself and Rachel. As excited as she'd been just moments ago, she now seemed shyly hesitant.
"Hi, Rachel," Brittany whispered then noted the ever present nurse. "Hi Rachel's nurse." Turning back to Rachel, she whispered, "I brought you a duck." In her outstretched hand was a stuffed duck. "I was going to bring you Mr. Quackers, because he makes me feel better when I'm sick, but Santana said it wasn't the same kind of sick. So, I brought you a different ducky, because it's a different kind of sick."
"Thank you, Brittany," Rachel said, reaching out to take the stuffed duck. "But why are you whispering?"
"When my granddad was in the hospital, mom told me we had to whisper when I was in his room," Brittany answered, still whispering.
"That's because he was sleeping," Artie said, looking up at the tall blond and patting the hand that was gripping his shoulder.
"Oh," Brittany said. "I thought you just had to whisper in hospitals."
Quinn watched all this from the door. She went to close it but saw Hiram coming down the hall. "Hey, Quinn," he said, closing the distance to the room. "Everything okay? I thought Finn was visiting Rachel?"
"He was," Quinn said, shrugging, trying to not let her thoughts focus on the tall idiot that had left Rachel a sobbing mess. She was already subconsciously thinking of ways she could pay him back for that in the most painful way possible. "I think I must have just missed him. Brittany and Artie are in there now."
Hiram looked up to the ceiling, trying to remember. "Tall blonde Cheerio that can dance and white boy that thinks he's black in a wheelchair?"
"Are you like the best guesser in the world, or…?," Quinn asked, smiling but letting the question dangle between them. She had a sudden image of Rachel creating Glee Club flash cards and quizzing her fathers on them.
"No, no," Hiram laughed. "Rachel talks about her friends all the time."
"Her friends?" Quinn asked. The smile was slowly fading from her face.
"In Glee Club," he said. "She's told us all about your hangouts and stuff. Practices and going to each other's after school and Glee Club parties."
"Glee Club parties…" Quinn said, making it more a statement than a question. She didn't want Hiram to catch on to what she was thinking.
"Yeah," Hiram said. "I don't know why you guys stopped having them. Rachel used to come home on Friday nights and talk about how you Gleeks- her word, not mine. How you played truth or dare and sang karaoke and watched movies. I made sure to tell her if she ever wanted to have one at our house, you all were more than welcome. Seems she stopped talking about them after she started dating Jesse, though. I guess since she was going out on dates, some of them had to be those parties…" Hiram noticed the look on Quinn's face and stopped himself. "I'm sorry; I have a tendency to ramble. Anyway, yeah, she goes on and on about all you." Hiram's face fell. "Or, at least, she used to. I just don't get why she'd lie about inviting everyone over for her birthday, though."
Quinn knew the truth. Rachel hadn't lied about her birthday. She'd lied about everything else. There'd been no Glee Club parties, no afterschool get-togethers. God knows where she'd been hiding out those Friday nights while lying to her parents. She hadn't stopped going to parties while dating Jesse and Finn; she'd simply stopped lying about it.
Hiram's voice brought Quinn back from her revelation. "So, I'll just leave you kids alone and let you and Artie and…"
"Brittany," she supplied for him.
"Right, Brittany," Hiram said. "I'll let you visit with Rachel for a while. I have some calls I need to make about work, so this'll be a nice time to catch up. If you need anything, I'll be in the cafeteria."
Quinn thanked him as Hiram left, and she let herself back into Rachel's room. Brittany had gotten over her initial shyness and was sitting on the edge of Rachel's bed, the hand with the brace sitting in the Cheerio's lap as Brittany subconsciously played with it She was in the middle of a story and… oh no.
"-And then Coach Sue pulled her off," Brittany said. "I couldn't believe it. She was just on top of her punching and hitting and she was just so angry that Missy had said that about you. I don't really like violence, but Missy said such mean things that I really didn't mind too much this time."
"Britts," Quinn said, walking into view. "I really don't think Rachel wants to hear about Cheerios practice. I mean, I'm sure she has enough—"
"I don't mind, Quinn," Rachel said, staring up at her with this… expression. Like awe, maybe? Or some kind of hero worship? If Quinn were a boy, it would have almost looked like… well, damn. That's… unexpected. I mean, sure, I did save her life. And, okay, I beat up a bitch for her. And, yes, she did say everything was better when I was around. And that I was the only one she could trust to talk to honestly. And it's not like I haven't thought about… No. Just no. No, no, no, no, no. There's NO way she'd actually… This is crazy. Rachel fucking annoying Berry does not have a crush on me. She couldn't. She doesn't. Does she?
"Quinn?" Rachel asked when she hadn't moved any closer. "Are you okay?"
"What? Yeah. I was just…" Quinn trailed off, not sure what to say. Or if she should say anything. God, this is so… Fuck it. Do it the Fabray way. Lie. "It's just embarrassing," Quinn said, ducking her eyes so she wouldn't have to see Rachel with that fucking expression. "I'm supposed to be a leader, and I beat up one of my girls. I mean, I really shouldn't have done it. So… can we just change the subject or something?"
"Sure," Rachel said, sounding a little disappointed. There was a certain eagerness in her eyes when Quinn looked up, and it reminded her of the old Rachel Berry. The one that wanted everything she could dream of. The popularity, the friends, the boyfriend, the Broadway career… Just as soon as she had seen it, though, it was gone. Replaced by… something. If her eyes could use the same monotone voice she'd spoken with earlier, it would have. It was like her personality was gray. Like the real Rachel Berry was hiding behind bland and beige.
Brittany and Artie stayed for almost an hour which, besides Quinn, was some kind of record for her friends visiting without incident. Eventually, though, they simply got too uncomfortable and had to leave. Dodging around the huge topic of Rachel's attempted suicide made small talk nearly impossible with the girl, at least there in the hospital. Rachel also had a tendency to zone out while they were talking, getting lost in her own thoughts. Multiple times Brittany or Artie would look at Quinn after asking a question, and she would have to get Rachel's attention in order for her to be brought back into the conversation. Quinn could only hope that when Rachel was home and away from the white walls and smell of industrial cleaners she would be able to interact with people better.
Quinn hated to see them go. It was nice having a buffer there between herself and Rachel. As much as she wanted to help the girl get better, it's not like her personality had suddenly changed and they were getting along. Except… that's kind of exactly what happened. Since she'd been visiting in the hospital the last couple of days, they'd been friendly towards each other. But… no, Quinn thought. It's been longer than that. She hasn't really annoyed me since she and Finn broke up. That's when she changed.
The thought of Finn brought back the memory of earlier, seeing him in the hallway. Coming into Rachel's room and finding her crying. "Rachel?" Quinn called out softly, not wanting to disturb the girl too much away from her thoughts. She looked up at Quinn with a glazed look in her eyes, like she wasn't even seeing her. It took a moment for her eyes to focus on Quinn's face.
"Hmmm?"
"What happened today?" Quinn asked, leaning closer to the bed from her chair beside it. "With Finn? Before Brittany and Artie came, you were telling me about your day, and… when I first came in you were crying, and I know Finn had just left because I saw him in the hall. Did he…" She could barely force the words out of her mouth. Quinn knew she might end up punching Finn, but she had to know. "Did he say something to you, or…?"
Rachel sat there staring at Quinn and her trailed off statement for a moment. "It was nice seeing Artie and Brittany today," she said, giving a half-smile before letting her face drop again. "I like them. Brittany's always been the nicest of the Cheerios to me…" she glanced up at Quinn, "until recently. And Artie's funny. I think they make a nice couple."
Try telling Santana that, Quinn thought but kept the snarky comment to herself. It was sad to see Santana pining so hard over Brittany and so angry that they weren't together. Not that she ever said anything outright. She hid it well, but Quinn was her best friend. The drunk calling at two in the morning wasn't about nothing. It was sad to see their friendship breaking down. Santana wanted more, but Brittany really seemed to be in love with Artie. "I guess, Rachel," she said, clearing away the thoughts of Santana and Brittany. "But what does that have to do with today?"
Rachel looked down, no longer wanting to meet Quinn's gaze. Her voice was unusually subdued when she spoke, even for this new melancholy Rachel. "I messed up with Finn. I loved him and I hurt him and I thought he would hate me forever. But today he showed up with that stupid stuffed gift shop bear," she pointed to the tear-wet bear sitting off to the side, " and he… he was fine. I wasn't the girl that he loved that tried to… that almost died. I was just this girl that he knew. I was the sad little girl from last year again, the one that was trying so hard to get him to love her, and I… I just can't."
Fat tears started to roll down Rachel's cheeks as she spoke, and Quinn wasn't even sure she was aware of their presence. Almost absentmindedly, she reached over and brushed her fingers over Rachel's, stroking the delicate skin not covered by the ligament brace. It was becoming second nature to touch her, to reassure her with that contact.
Rachel let out a sigh and wiped at her eyes with the sheet, knocking the stuffed duck from Brittany ("Bert", they had decided to name him) to the side. "I can't be her, not anymore. It's just so… exhausting… you know? But, if I don't have Finn… Quinn, do you think… Do you think anyone will ever love me again?"
Words, thoughts failed Quinn. She'd loved who she was… mostly, and she'd gotten the best parts of her pre-baby life back. For Rachel to say that she didn't want to be the old her anymore… she couldn't fathom it. Then she remember a conversation with Mr. Schuester from the year before, and… okay, maybe he was a better teacher than she gave him credit for.
"I made the Glist last year," Quinn blurted suddenly. Rachel looked up at her with a confused stare, and she suddenly cursed her apparently non-working brain-to-mouth filter. "I thought I had lost everything. My body, my popularity… I was captain of the Cheerios, president of the Celibacy Club, dating the quarterback of the football team. People would part like the Red Sea for me. Then, suddenly, I was invisible. I thought that if I made the Glist, I would get a bad reputation. That it was better than not having a reputation at all. When Mr. Schue confronted me about it, I asked him if he thought I could get it all back one day." Rachel looked at her expectantly, the same as she had looked to him. "He said no. Then he said that I could get something even better. And I have. And that's what I think for you."
"You think what for me?" Rachel asked, getting upset. The sudden flip in emotions made Quinn nervous, and she slowly withdrew her hand from the bed. "I never had anything. Before all…" she motioned around at the hospital room, voice rising angrily, "all this, what exactly did I have? I didn't have any friends. My boyfriend didn't really like me. My parents were fighting all the time. My mother… well, I'd have to actually have a mother to say anything about her. What exactly would I be trying to get back? Huh? You were the popular head bitch that got knocked up and lied about it. A year later, you're still the head bitch, just with a different flavor boyfriend. Iwas nothing last year. What exactly would I be trying to get back!?"
Quinn took a deep breath, pushing down the urge to fight back. It was there, Head Bitch bubbling at the surface, wanting to take the bait and fight her. Barring the recent encounter with Missy, she wouldn't call herself a violent person. Not physically, at least. Being a Fabray, though, she grew up learning just how to hurt someone with their deepest fears and darkest insecurities. Her words were like well placed blades that would rip someone to shreds if she let them. And it was taking all of Quinn's restraint not to do that to Rachel right now.
"Well!?"
Quinn took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second, forcing the insults that sprung to her lips back down. "Rachel," she said, opening her eyes. "First… you're not nothing. You're the most talented, most driven person I've ever met." Rachel started to protest, but Quinn held up a hand to stop her. "Please. Quid pro quo. You got to say what you wanted, now let me. And, like we agreed while ago, I'm being honest here." Rachel settled back down but crossed her arms as best she could, still looking angry. "You're my favorite singer. I know I used to make fun of your MySpace videos, but it's only because I hated you." Rachel looked hurt, but Quinn kept talking. They had to get through this.
"You can't really be surprised, Rachel," Quinn said. "Not after I told you about my dad. It wasn't just him, though. It wasn't your horrible clothes or your bossiness or your superiority complex. It was the annoying way you always picked yourself back up after we knocked you down. Every slushie thrown at you, every insult we hurled, everything. You kept going, like you knew something we didn't. Like you were better than us. Better than me."
Rachel was no longer angry, just curious. "I never thought I—"
"It doesn't matter," Quinn said, waving the comment away. "Because, in a lot of ways, you were. Everyone at that school bowed down to me. Everyone except you. And I hated you for it. I called you names and had you slushied and so many other things, and you… you just never broke. I'd never have admitted it back then, but I admired you for it. I cared so much, was worried so much, about what everyone else thought of me. But you never did."
"I cared," Rachel said quietly. "I cared a lot. I just wanted people to like me. I thought that if no one saw I was hurt, that they would think I was cool, too. All the girls that were mean to me, I just wanted to be friends with them. Especially with you. You were… are… so cool and so beautiful and everyone loves you. I wanted that. I thought that if I stood up to you, if I refused to bow down like everyone else… if I refused to be broken, then maybe you would like me, too."
"I guess that makes us both stupid, then," Quinn said with a chuckle. "And liars. To ourselves, to each other, to everyone. I want that to end, though. I promise from now on to always be honest with you, no matter what." She paused then, suddenly aware of what she was saying. She'd never been completely honest with anyone. She wasn't sure she could be. That wasn't how Fabrays were. I mean, what if she asks about-
Before she could tactfully take it back, Rachel was already agreeing. "I want that, too. I want to be honest with you, too." And, damn it, somehow the way Rachel was saying it, with that eagerness and that shy hope and that nervous smile… it made Quinn really want to do it, consequences be damned. She'd figure it out somehow.
"See, that's what I want for you," Quinn said. When Rachel gave her a confused look, Quinn added, "You're smiling." Rachel's smile evaporated once she realized she was doing it, and it hurt Quinn's heart. "That's what I was talking about. The stuff that I want you to get back, but better. Before all…" Quinn motioned around the room as Rachel had done earlier, "…all this, you had this drive, this… zest… for life. Like you could rule the world if you really wanted to. And now you're just… gray. I want you to get that back. I want to help you get that back, if I can. When you're happy, you have the most amazingly beautiful smile, and, it's stupid, but I miss that."
Rachel blushed and looked away, and Quinn was mentally smacking herself in the forehead. She instantly heard her inner Santana quipping, 'Wow, your gay's really starting to show there, Q'. Whatever, Santana's a bitch. Still, I should probably let Sam take me out to make up for that slipup.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither wanting to look at the other. Somehow in the span of a few minutes, they had each called the other beautiful. Quinn wasn't sure if Rachel had caught it, but as homo-aware as Quinn was, it hadn't slipped by her. She hadn't really thought much of it when Rachel had called her beautiful, but she really hadn't meant to say it about the other girl's smile. it just kind of slipped out. Didn't make it any less true, though. 'At least you didn't say sexy', inner-Santana said again, to which Quinn quickly responded with a Go fuck yourself, S.
Rachel was the one to break the silence. "You put me at the bottom of the Glist," she said, finally looking up at Quinn with a smile that just barely reached her eyes. "-5, I think."
"Yeah, well, you were dating Jesse at the time," Quinn said, shrugging. "He was a douche bag."