Author's note: This is the first time I've put an author's note before actually finishing writing the story. I just wanted to explain that Rachel (in my opinion) has always been more dramatic (obviously) and a little crazier than Quinn, and I tried to reflect this when writing from her point of view (some of this may come from reading ElsBells AMAZING "Just off the Key of Reason" and its sequel "Still off the Key of Reason" which everyone should read if they haven't). Also, she's on some mood altering medicines (which I know NOTHING about, so I'm basically making it up to suit my purpose), AND she's just gone through a life-altering event. The reason I say anything is because I didn't have her like this in the hospital the couple of times I wrote from her POV, and I didn't want it to seem like I was suddenly changing her character or anything. To me, this is more like Rachel trying to be her normal self again. Also, I know what a run-on sentence is, and that they're bad, but I think Rachel would probably think in them (though her use of parentheses she totally got from me).
Secondly, I love milestones. This chapter puts this story over 50,000 words, and that is just awesome to me that people are still reading it. I also recently got over 100 favorites on this story. And, if I could get just 3 more reviews, I'd have 100 reviews for this story. (*hint, hint*)
Thirdly, Happy Easter, if you celebrate that sort of thing like I do. I know I was cutting it close, at least on east coast time, but I think I made it. If I didn't, or if I didn't where you live, pretend I did anyway.
While I'm leaving an apparently huge author's note, let me say this: this is my longest chapter so far, but there were definite places I could have cut it into two or maybe even three chapters. Do people like the longer, less frequent chapters, or would people rather have shorter chapters more often? Discuss amongst yourselves and let me know.
"That's not going to help, Hiram," Quinn heard Leroy say condescendingly as footsteps started up the stairs. As soon as she heard the first one, Quinn was out of Rachel's arms, pushing away from her on the bed, and putting a considerable amount of space between them. Quinn noted the look of hurt cross her face, but she couldn't help it. "We should just go ahead and call Dr. Richards."
"Nonsense," Hiram said as their voices got louder, approaching Rachel's room. "This always snaps Rachel right out of her blues. She just needs to know we ca-"Hiram paused as he and Leroy reached Rachel's doorway, seeing Quinn and Rachel looking back at them. He clearly wasn't expecting for his daughter, who had been uncontrollably sobbing an hour or so before, sitting in bed with a friend watching television. He looked from the bed to the television screen where the movie was still paused. Looking over to Leroy who just gave a shrug, Hiram hesitantly said, "Hey, Hon. I got you your favorite, Chocolate Brownie Almond. I thought maybe it would make you feel better… but it looks like you already are."
Rachel nodded, looking from her dads to Quinn and back. Quietly, she said, "I am, thank you. Quinn came over." Quinn noticed she said it so simply, like obviously Rachel would be feeling better now that Quinn was here. She couldn't help but see the look of disappointment on the faces of Hiram and Leroy, seeing as they were her fathers. Of course they should be the ones to make everything better. Not this girl who had bullied their daughter for a year and a half. "We're watching Finding Nemo."
"Oh," Hiram said, seemingly at a loss for words. "Did, uh, did you two want the ice cream, then?" He held up a pint of vegan ice cream and two spoons.
Quinn looked over and locked eyes with Leroy, seeing that, no matter how grateful he might have been for what she did for Rachel, she still wasn't welcome. "That's okay," she said, pulling back the covers and getting up. "I really should be getting home, anyway."
"No!" Rachel said, slightly panicked, standing up. Realizing she had gotten so loud, she was quickly back down to a quieter, almost shy voice. "I thought… I mean, I thought we could at least finish the movie? Can't we?" She finished with this heartbreakingly, pathetically adorable little pout that had Quinn wondering how this girl hadn't already taken over the school. One look had Quinn wanting to do whatever it took to make Rachel smile again and… just, God, stop looking so sad.
"Uh…" Quinn looked from Rachel's pout to Leroy's stern expression to Hiram's quizzical look. "I can, I guess… I mean, if that's okay?"
Leroy seemed about to say that it definitely wasn't okay, but he was interrupted by Hiram. "Of course it's okay." Hiram said as he walked across the threshold, handing the pint and spoons to Rachel who smiled sheepishly up at him like she wasn't used to doing it. She then climbed back in, pulling the covers back over her. Quinn followed her lead, this time remembering to slip her shoes off before getting under the covers.
Hiram smiled at Leroy and pulled on his arm, pulling him away from the room. Leroy, still looking like he wanted to say something, let himself be pulled away, casting Quinn a parting glare before he went.
A half hour later, Quinn was sitting beside Rachel. They had been moving closer and closer together as they had passed the emptying pint of ice cream back and forth, and now that it was gone, they were nearly on top of each other they were cuddled so close. On screen, Nemo was lying under the net, and his dad was rushing to him. As Quinn watched the movie, a tear made its way down her right cheek. Another one came down on her left. She determinedly looked at the screen as to not let Rachel know she was crying, then promptly gave it away when she sniffled loudly.
"Quinn?" Rachel asked, moving back slightly to look over at her. "Quinn, are you…?"
'Dad… I don't hate you,' Nemo said on screen. Quinn gave a choked sob as the tears started falling faster.
'Oh, no, no, no. I'm so sorry, Nemo.'
And then Quinn was crying uncontrollably, pulling the blanket up and burying her face in it as if to shield herself from Rachel. God, what was she thinking, picking this of all movies to watch? Anything happy and animated probably would have worked. No, the girl with the 'daddy issues' had to pick Finding-fucking-Nemo.
"Quinn," Rachel called to her, trying to pull the blanket away from her face. "Quinn, I don't know what's wrong, but you don't have to hide." She pulled at the blanket again, but Quinn held it even tighter, unwilling to show the girl beside her how weak she was. "It's okay to be sad about…"
Rachel looked back at the screen where Marlin was now racing Nemo to school. It was the end of the movie, the happy ending, and everyone should be 'awww'ing about how things had worked out so well and how everyone had learned important life lessons about sticking together and letting go and family. Quinn cut her eyes over to Rachel and watched as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place.
"It's about your dad, isn't it?" At least she was nice enough to pose it as a question to give Quinn an out if she wanted one. Rachel attempted to wrap her braced arm around Quinn, but the cheerleader just shrugged her off.
"It's stupid," Quinn said through the tears. "My dad's an asshole. I shouldn't miss him. I hate him."
"But you do anyway," Rachel said. "And it's not stupid. Dr. Richards said sometimes that however you feel is how you're supposed to feel." Quinn remembered him saying that during her own sessions with him over the summer when she had talked about hating her dad and giving up the baby. That there were no right or wrong ways to feel about something, only how you felt. She wondered if she should tell Rachel at some point that they shared the same therapist. "And maybe," Rachel went on, "you don't miss him as much as you miss the past?"
"…maybe…" Quinn said, wiping her eyes with the blanket. This time when Rachel reached around and tried to pull her closer, Quinn actually let her. Because Dr. Richards had also told her it would be best if she let someone in; a friend, a family member, someone. Ice Queen Quinn Fabray had tried to handle it on her own by bottling it up, though, and here she was crying in front of freaking Rachel Berry. Her life would be funny if it wasn't so fucked up.
They sat there in silence for a while, staring at the menu of the DVD but neither really seeing anything besides their own thoughts. Quinn's head rested on Rachel's shoulder while Rachel's arm was wrapped around Quinn, pulling her in closer. "This is so backwards," Quinn said, sleepily, fighting back a yawn. "I'm supposed to be the one helping you."
"Maybe we can help each other?" Rachel offered up. "Isn't that what friends do?"
"Yeah," Quinn mumbled with a ghost of a smile, because, really, friends with Rachel Berry? These few days had been strange indeed. "Friends."
Rachel reached her good hand out of the shower and grabbed her towel, bringing it into the shower and wrapping it as best she could around herself. She wished now that she'd gotten one of those towel-toga combinations (or were they toga-towels?) that she'd seen the funny infomercial for. All those gadgets looked so useful at three in the morning, but her dads would never allow her to get them. Except for the Slap Chop. That had been the absolute only way to actually get her to help out in the kitchen. It was just so much fun.
Stepping out into the rest of the bathroom, Rachel wiped away the steam on the mirror and raked her eyes over the girl in it. The braced forearm was jammed into a plastic bag and tied off, thanks to her Dad who'd helped her get ready for her shower. Luckily Quinn could sleep through anything… including the looks her Dad kept sending towards the sleeping Cheerio, as if he were trying to figure her out like one of his Sunday crosswords. She'd have to have a talk with the two of them about that. Rachel's other forearm, now sans bandages but still being held together by sutures, was wrapped in plastic wrap. It had made showering a chore, but she hadn't been allowed to bath by herself the entire time at the hospital, and she was determined to do it alone. All doors were to remain open at all times, however, and her Dad and Daddy both had walked through to check on her during her shower, but at least she'd accomplished that one small task.
Rachel's eyes left the mirror and looked around to the rest of the bathroom, looking for something she could kill herself with. Daddy had done a good job with suicide proofing the bathroom and her bedroom (as far as she could tell, though she hadn't really had a chance to explore with first the sobbing, then the Quinn), but she knew the rest of the house would hold a treasure trove of ways. Other knives in the kitchen, rope in the garage, the handgun in the lockbox in the back of her dads' closet that they didn't know she knew about. Rachel had done the research about this like she had everything else in her life.
Not that it mattered. Rachel wasn't planning on killing herself right now, not with Quinn out there sleeping, anyway. She was enjoying the idea of this newfound friendship, even if it was still hard to wrap her brain around. The person at school who had bullied her the most had saved her life. If any one person had done the most to make Rachel feel worthless, like she could end her life and no one would care, it was Quinn. And yet, now here she was at Rachel's house (in Rachel's room, even) watching movies and eating ice cream and acting like friends.
Rachel quickly stepped around the corner and glanced at the sleeping blonde cheerleader on her bed. Though not in her cheerleading uniform, this looked just like the setup to so many fantasies she'd had during her freshman year when Quinn had been the hot new head cheerleader and Rachel the bright young ingénue that would make her question her (clearly repressed) latent homosexual nature.
Except in reality, Quinn hadn't been repressed, just a horrible person. And Rachel hadn't been the bright ingénue but the little Jewish girl caught masturbating by some Cheerio even more horrible than Quinn. It was one of those same fantasies about Quinn that had gotten photographed and probably shown to every Cheerio at the school. It was a wonder Quinn was there at all, if she'd seen the picture. Seeing it and knowing who it was about were two thankfully different things, though, and Rachel was grateful for that small favor, at least.
Rachel watched Quinn sleeping for another moment, hoping she wasn't being too much of a creeper. She was just so cute and relaxed when she was asleep. It was so unlike how she was used to thinking of Quinn. She was usually so reserved and cold, but still strikingly beautiful, like how Rachel thought of those Greek marble statues. And though it was kind of hot how Quinn beat up that girl for her, Rachel Barbra Berry was definitely not crushing on one Quinn Fabray. That ship had sailed. And crashed into an iceberg. And sank to the bottom of the Atlantic. And then stayed there for nearly a century until an old woman threw a necklace at it. …Okay, so it was possible Rachel had watched too many reruns of Titanic on some cable channel while in the hospital.
Stepping back into the bathroom, Rachel let her thoughts wonder back to her pre-Quinn mental ramblings. No, she definitely wouldn't be killing herself tonight. Or maybe ever. Right now, who knew? Like she'd thought (before her Quinn induced mental tangent), she'd done the research. She knew that guilt wasn't a great motivator for staying alive. Rachel didn't want to hurt her fathers, it was true, but how long before she didn't care again? Tomorrow? A week? A month? It was comforting, in a way, knowing she could try again if she needed to. It was like an escape hatch for life. If things got too difficult, too unbearable, she had a way out.
Doing her best with one working hand, Rachel took the bag and plastic wrap off her injuries, then managed to get into a loose pair of sweats and a large, baggy long-sleeved shirt. The inability to dry off properly caused the shirt to cling unnecessarily to her, and she was suddenly thankful that Quinn was still sleeping. If she had to parade past her blonde not-fantasy girl looking like the loser of a wet t-shirt contest, she wouldn't have to worry about a second suicide attempt because she'd just go ahead and die of embarrassment.
See, take that, Dr. Richards, Rachel thought, sticking her tongue out at her reflection. The ability to make inappropriate jokes about it must mean I'm doing better, right? Pausing, she considered this whole train (wreck) of thought since stepping out of the shower and sighed. I honestly can't tell whether this is me or the meds right now.
Rachel slipped quietly through her room and out into the hallway, down the steps where she could hear her fathers arguing in the kitchen. It seemed like that was all they did nowadays. She waited four stairs from the bottom, listening. She knew the next step squeaked, and once they heard that squeak, they'd be all smiles and snippy comments, but no actual communication would happen. By listening, though, she could hear them saying what they were actually thinking, and… okay, it was definitely a good thing Quinn was upstairs asleep.
"I don't care what she did for Rachel," Leroy said heatedly. Rachel could hear him pacing around the island like he always did when he was upset. In her mind, she saw Hiram sitting at the table in the breakfast nook, looking on and shaking his head at her Daddy's antics. "She's not welcome here. She's the cause of this in the first place."
"Lee, I read the same letters you did, and you know that's not true," Hiram said.
"That… that girl… her name was said more than anyone else's."
"Yes, but she didn't do anything more than you did back in high school."
"Yeah, but-"
"And if anyone has a reason to be upset about a Fabray picking on our daughter it's me, remember?" Rachel cocked her head to the side, confused. Had she missed something? Why would her Dad be more upset than her Daddy? "And… it would seem Rachel has forgiven Quinn, so maybe we should at least give her a chance."
"Did you even read the same letters I read, Hiram?" Leroy said loudly. There was the sound of papers moving around before she heard him clear his throat and continue. "'Times Quinn specifically had me slushied… twenty-four. Times Quinn laughed when other people slushied me… sixty-five. Times Quinn stole my clothes after gym so I had to wear sweaty clothes the rest of the day… five. Times Quinn stole and ripped up my homework… eleven. Times Quinn drew pornographic pictures of me in the bathroom… six. Times Quinn stole my lunch and threw it away… eighteen. Times Quinn-'"
"I get it, Lee!" Hiram nearly yelled, and there was the sound of a chair being pushed back as her Dad stood up. "She bullied our daughter. I get it. I'm not saying she's a great person. I…" Hiram sighed. When he spoke again, he sounded defeated. "I don't know what I'm saying. Maybe you're right. Maybe she should stay away from our little Ray."
Hearing this, Rachel went wide-eyed momentarily, knowing she had to interject. Going down the three steps, she heard her fathers' conversation come to a halt at the squeak of the third step from the bottom. Rounding the corner and coming into the room, Rachel tried to muster up her fierce… divaness? Divanicity? Divaliciousness? …Okay, no, definitely not that one. She wasn't a food, though she did sometimes feel warm and flaky. Especially now. Come on, Rachel Barbra Berry, get it together, she told herself. Whatever her inner diva attitude was, she tried to channel that, but she wasn't sure if she could or not.
"No," Rachel said, walking briskly into the kitchen. "Quinn's not going anywhere. She's my friend now, and I've forgiven her for all of that, and… and…" She faltered under their surprised stares, running out of steam, suddenly embarrassed and feeling stupid. God, she really didn't want to talk to them… and where had that come from? She used to tell them everything, and they were staring at each other like strangers. "I need her."
"Rachel," Leroy started, holding the letters in front of her face. "You don't need her. She-"
"No!" Rachel yelled as she snatched the letters from the surprised Leroy's hands. "You can't- you weren't supposed to see these until after- you can't just… you had no right to…" She held the letters to her chest, willing herself not to cry, sniffling loudly. No, this wasn't right. She was going to be more determined than this. She was going to come down here and tell her fathers that they had to be nicer to Quinn because Quinn had saved her life, and while Rachel wasn't so sure that was a good thing yet, her fathers were supposed to be happy about that, right? "She saved me!" Rachel said, unable to stop yelling at them. "You're supposed to… she's better now. This was all in the past, and I've forgiven her, and… and… you can't just… condemn…" She trailed off, taking deep breaths. When did the room start spinning? That was a new addition, right?
"Rachel," Hiram said, moving over towards her. She was backing away the way she'd come, eyes darting around and looking for an exit. She didn't register the look of hurt on Hiram's face, and wouldn't have been able to care if she had. "Rachel, do you think maybe you should take one of your antianxiety pills?"
"No!" she yelled, nearly screaming this time. "I can do this without- I'm not some crazy… I don't need…" Quieter, still backing away, "…I don't… I don't…."
"Rachel." Quinn called out her name softly from behind her. Rachel spun at the sound of her voice, seeing Quinn sock clad in the doorway of her kitchen. Her hair was all lopsided from where she'd been sleeping, but her eyes were awake and worried. Her hands were down beside her, but Rachel could see the pill bottle clutched firmly there in her right hand. "Rachel, come here."
It was a command this time, and Rachel followed it, walking slowly towards Quinn's waiting outstretched arms. She nearly crumpled when Quinn's arms went around her, placing her head into the puffy sweater that smelled of fabric softener and Quinn's perfume. She was still willing herself not to cry, but it was a losing battle. The tears came slowly and carefully, but at least she wasn't sobbing, because, really, how much of that could she manage to do per day? It was still enough to dampen Quinn's fluffy sweater, though, and she felt a little bad for that, but at least she wasn't wearing any kind of makeup that might stain it, though, so yay. Kind of.
After a few tense, awkward minutes of Rachel crying into Quinn's shoulder/chest/neck (because there was absolutely nothing wrong with moving around a bit and trying to find a drier place to cry, and it had nothing to do with wanting to feel different parts of Quinn because that ship had sunk and had a necklace thrown at it, remember?), Quinn pulled back and looked at Rachel. "Better?" she asked, smiling.
Rachel nodded, smiling sheepishly, because sometimes she just needed to cry and get everything out. It was still embarrassing, having everyone stare at her while she did it. Wanting to be the center of attention for her talent was all well and good, but having her dads just watch her instead of comforting her was off-putting. It didn't used to be like that. Before, she would always tell her dads everything, and they would always make it better. Now, it was like talking to strangers. She didn't want to tell them anything that might hurt them, and they were treating her like a child which, okay, maybe she was a child, kind of, but she was also almost an adult and it was her life that she had tried to end and they couldn't keep treating her like that and holy run-on sentence… thought… whatever.
Turning back to her dads, she kept her eyes to the floor and said a quiet, "…sorry. I was just…" And she stopped and shrugged, because she didn't know what she was just.
"It's okay, sweetie," Leroy said, taking a couple of steps over towards her. With Quinn directly behind her, Rachel couldn't move away from him, so she just had to stand there and let him come to her. Which he did, slowly. She looked up and he had his arms open, hoping for a hug, and suddenly, Quinn was pushing her from behind and he was hugging her, holding her, and, okay, it was sort of nice. "You're okay. We're here for you."
"Both of you?" Rachel asked after a moment, pulling out of his embrace and looking up at her Daddy, then looking over at Hiram. "But I thought you were moving out? You said… you said you couldn't be a part of this family anymore."
"I never- Ray, I never said that," Hiram said, shocked. "I would never say that. Rachel, you are the most important-"
"I heard you!" Rachel yelled, possibly screamed, again, stepping back, and she had the sudden urge to laugh, imaging that it was some kind of conversation/confrontation dance routine between her and her fathers with a step forward, an embrace, a step back, two, three, four, two, three, four, but she knew she couldn't laugh because then she would be a crazy person, and it wasn't like it was funny anyway because it definitely wasn't funny, but she still wanted to laugh because of how unfunny it truly was and again she was breathing heavy, possibly hyperventilating, and-
From behind, Quinn reached around her and placed hands on her upper arms, pulling her close behind her. Rachel felt Quinn and her fluffiness rubbing into the back of her admittedly thin shirt (why had she chosen this one again?) and her chin was resting on Rachel's right shoulder.
"Rachel, calm down," Quinn said, leaning her head sideways into Rachel's and running her hands up and down Rachel's arms, slowly, in a motion that soon had Rachel calming down. "I think it might be best if you took one of your anxiety pills. Agreed?"
"I don't-" Rachel started to say, but Quinn was holding her and her head was so close to Rachel's own head, and she knew if she turned her head to look Quinn in the eyes she would be within kissing distance and there would be nothing to stop her from kissing that sunken necklace-thrown-at ship and then she'd lose her only friend and Quinn would hate her and she couldn't have Quinn hate her because then Rachel wouldn't have anything then, and… and… "Maybe… maybe you're right."
Leroy and Hiram shared a look, an unspoken conversation, and it seemed that Leroy lost because he sighed and broke eye contact, moving around the kitchen to get Rachel a cup of water.
Rachel, who was already calming down due to Quinn's ministrations, reluctantly (…no, no, wait, no, not reluctantly, she had to remind herself) stepped out of Quinn's arms and continued her conversation at a now respectable volume, saying "I heard you arguing last week. You told Daddy that with his long hours and weekends at work and you raising a daughter 'practically by yourself'" she flailed her arms, making huge air quotes as best she could with her braced arm, "that you 'couldn't be a part of this anymore'. You yelled at him about missing the best years of your life already and how you couldn't be the only one in this. You said… you said maybe it was a mistake." She paused wrapping her arms around her midsection and seeming to shrink into herself because she knew… she knew what she'd heard. It had been just another step needed to walk her over the edge. "You were talking about me."
"Rachel Barbra Berry," Hiram said, half sternly yet half sadly, it seemed, and walked to Rachel, lifting her chin up to meet his eyes. "I would never, never say anything like that about you. The mistake I was talking about was agreeing with Leroy about him taking this new position. Just because our marriage," he motioned between himself and Leroy, who was back and standing there holding a cup of water, "might be having issues doesn't mean that our family is. I love you. We both love you, and in the seventeen years we've had you, we've never thought of you as a mistake. You're the best thing in both our lives, Ray."
"So you're not leaving, then?" Rachel asked hopefully.
"I…" Hiram turned to Leroy and they stared at each other for another long silent conversation moment before he turned back to Rachel. "We have a lot of issues, and it may come to that at some point, but you getting better is more important than any of that is right now. I'll be here as long as you need me. Okay?"
"Okay."
Hiram bridged the remaining steps and pulled Rachel into a hug, squeezing her tight and holding her close for a minute before finally letting go. Once she was released, Leroy did the same, pulling her in and holding her tight. She had nearly lost it again, that panicked hopeless feeling overwhelming her like it had in the bathroom after coming home. She felt so broken, so useless, like she could barely function around these people. Rachel just wanted to curl up until she was better and have people wait on her like it was the flu instead of something that was wrong with her life, but that (unfortunately) wasn't an option.
Once they were all back to staring awkwardly at her, Rachel tucked the now incredibly crumpled letters under her arm and took the cup from Leroy. She went to take the pill bottle from Quinn, then realized, yet again, that she really only had the one good arm. Rachel and Quinn both seemed to look down at the brace at the same time, and Rachel met Quinn's eyes again with another embarrassed smile. Quinn just shrugged, though, and opened the annoying child-proof lock, getting out one of the pills. She put the pill in-between the finger and thumb of Rachel's braced hand. It was weird, though, or at least it felt weird, or… it was weird that it didn't feel weird. It didn't feel like anything at all because she couldn't actually feel it. Maybe the brace was having some kind of effect on the nerves in her fingers? She'd have to ask at her doctor's appointment next week.
Looking down at the pill, it didn't seem like that big of a deal. It was just a tiny little white thing with some kind of symbol pressed into it. How was this supposed to make her better? And yet, she had to trust it because, really, what other choice did she have? Breaking down in front of Quinn and her fathers was embarrassing and stupid and she hated it. She hated herself for doing it. What if it happened at school? Oh, God, what if people started teasing her at school about everythin-
"Rachel, just take the damn pill," Quinn interrupted her thoughts from beside her, and she realized she had just been staring at it in her hand while silently freaking out. How did Quinn always seem to know?, she wondered as she popped the pill in her mouth and washed it down with the cold water Leroy had brought her. Rachel turned back towards Quinn and handed her the pill bottle, opening her mouth wide and sticking out her tongue. It was stupid, but it made Quinn smile, so it was totally worth it in Rachel's book.
"Dork," Quinn said, taking the pill bottle back and hitting her softly on the shoulder.
"Stay for dinner," Rachel said, smiling, now fully facing Quinn. She noticed how Quinn looked over her shoulder towards Leroy, and she followed suit, glaring at him. "Daddy, I was serious, even if a little…" Panicked? Stressed? Freaked out? Having a panic attack? Mentally dying a slow and painful death? Wow, way to be melodramatic, Rachel. "…flustered… earlier. I've forgiven Quinn for everything, and she's my friend now. That means you have to be nice to her."
"Rachel…" Everyone started to say at the same time, but Rachel was not to be challenged, in this at least.
"No," she said, turning first to her fathers, then to Quinn. "No. I forgave you." Back to her fathers. "I forgave her. She's my friend. She saved my life. The least you can do is forget about these stupid letters." She pulled the letters back out from under her arm and waved them around. "They… they weren't supposed to be read until after I was… until after, okay? I didn't think about the consequences of it, or… okay, I guess I did, but I didn't think about you two being angry about it. I just thought the people that did it would feel bad and maybe change their ways or something."
"Rachel-"
"No," Rachel said, again interrupting Leroy. "This is… this is nonnegotiable. Quinn is- she hasn't been a bully since last year, since… since Beth," Rachel failed to see Quinn's reaction to the name, but she saw her fathers looking at Quinn with something like pity in their eyes. "And though she hasn't been my friend during that time, she hasn't done anything on this list during that time either. She's changed. She's better, and she's-"
"Rachel, it's okay," Quinn said from behind her. "You don't have to-"
"No, I do, and it's not okay, Quinn. You are different. That Quinn… this Quinn," she emphasized by shaking the letters in her hand again. "This Quinn wouldn't have cared enough to come over to check on me. This Quinn would have posted some kind of horrible comment on MySpace and wished me the best of luck and would have been upset that I didn't get it right like… like Missy did." Okay, she was definitely not going to cry again, because she was getting fucking sick of it, and… yeah, just excuse the unseemly mental profanity. Rachel was having a bad day. She took a deep settling breath as everyone watched, and finished with, "So, just… you're staying for dinner, okay?" Turning back towards her dads, she added, "Okay?"
Leroy was about to speak, but Hiram caught his wrist, gently pulling it to get him to face him. "Lee," he said. "It's not like you didn't bully people in high school, too. Cut her some slack, okay?"
"Yeah, but I wasn't that bad, and I only did it to boys that-" And Leroy's mouth shut as he spun to look back and forth between Quinn and Rachel, arching an eyebrow. Rachel couldn't help but be jealous because she had seen Quinn do that so many times, and she always wanted to be able to do it, and why couldn't she have inherited that from her Daddy? Stupid genetics… Also, why wasn't he speaking anymore? Realizing they were staring back at him, Leroy finished with "-boys that… that I, uh, hated."
Leroy turned to Hiram and there was another silent conversation, and, wow, did that ever annoy Rachel. If they were supposed to be all open and honest with each other, they should have had it out loud, right? But her dads were always doing that ever since she was little, and it drove her nuts every time.
"Dads?" Rachel asked. They didn't respond, but they did keep glaring at each other, turning every so often to shoot glances at Rachel and Quinn. Quinn was starting to look uncomfortable, so Rachel just turned to Quinn and shrugged. "They do this all the time," she stage whispered to Quinn. "They're annoying that way."
Looking at Quinn now, Rachel noticed that besides looking uncomfortable, she was also still looking really adorable because of her sleep messed hair. Deciding to take decisive action, and since her fathers were apparently ignoring her right now, Rachel reached out and started patting down the blonde's hair as best she could. Quinn pulled away, whispering, "Rachel, quit it," but Rachel kept trying to tug her hair into a better position.
"Quinn, stop moving," Rachel huffed, wanting desperately to stomp her foot, but she was trying not to act like she a seven year old. "This is hard to do one-handed."
"I can fix my own hair," Quinn said, swatting at her hands and leaning back to keep her away. "Stop being weird."
"I'm not being weird," Rachel said, trying to reach past the Cheerio's now outstretched arm that had a hand firmly planted on Rachel's forehead. "I'm just trying to… unh… help you put your best foot… ugh… forward for my… oof… dads. Curse you and your longer reach, Quinn Fabray!" This time she did stomp her foot and crossed her arms over her chest for good measure. Quinn only smirked back at her, again raising that infuriating eyebrow.
"Girls," Hiram said, and they both turned back to the adults in the room. "Rachel. Quinn. We've had a moment to talk about it" (stupid silent conversations, Rachel again thought, still irritated by that and Quinn's stupid longer arms), "and we've decided that maybe Rachel is right and Quinn isn't the same person we read about in those letters. She can stay for dinner," Hiram paused to look at Quinn, "if you'd like, Miss Fabray. We realize our lovely daughter here issued you an order, instead of asking like the lovely, thoughtful person we raised her to be," here Hiram paused to shoot Rachel an exasperated, though loving, look that had her blushing at the realization that she was kind of being a diva, but, okay, that was her thing, right?, "but please don't think you have to follow it."
"No, it's okay," Quinn said, sharing a smile with Hiram. "I don't mind following Princess Rachel's wishes. I'll stay. I just need to call my mom." As Quinn walked away, already pulling out her cell phone, Rachel couldn't help but stare because A) that sunken ship had a really nice butt in jeans, and B) she'd called her Princess Rachel, and that just made her all fluttery inside because, really, just too cute.
Dinner was a pleasant affair. Quinn was worried that she wouldn't like whatever weird vegan meal the Misters Berry would undoubtedly fix for Rachel's first night back from the hospital, but she needn't have. They had made linguine with marinara sauce with meatballs on the side for Leroy and Quinn, as Hiram was a vegan like Rachel. They even passed the meal in relative peace, with Hiram and Leroy asking how Quinn's Christmas vacation was going and if she had finished her Christmas shopping. She said that she'd almost finished, though she still needed to get a present for her boyfriend. She didn't bother to add her thoughts, if he still is my boyfriend, because they were already shooting her looks over mentioning a boyfriend at all.
Quinn wasn't stupid. She knew what the unspoken conversation between Hiram and Leroy had been about. She knew what Leroy had almost said. He'd almost said "I only did that to boys I liked" or "boys I had a crush on" or something like that. She knew Rachel wouldn't get it, but Quinn did. She and Leroy had a lot in common, it seemed.
…Or, they might have, if she'd let herself… if she'd let Lucy… have that silly crush on Rachel that she'd thought about. But no. Quinn wasn't gay. She wouldn't let herself be. She chose not to be, because, really, sin is a choice. It has to be. God had given her these feelings as a test or something, and Quinn was going to pass it. Lucy may not have been able to, but that's what Quinn did. She was a winner. That's what her father had made her, that's what Sue Sylvester had made her, and that's what she would be.
The only problem with dinner was that Quinn kept thinking about her call to her mom. Or, not the call, really, but afterwards. During the call, she had made sure her mom was going to her Wednesday night AA meeting and that it was okay for her to stay at Rachel's for dinner, which Judy hesitantly assured her it was. It was only a couple of nights before after visiting Rachel at the hospital that Quinn had told Judy about feeling responsible for Rachel, and how she had wanted to help her get better. The bullying Quinn had done came out during the shared family therapy sessions over the summer, and Judy understood, after some explaining, that this was just something Quinn had to do.
No, the problem had started when she checked her phone after talking to Judy, noticing that she had a text from Brittany.
From Brittany: Q, if ur still at Rachel's, don't let her go on facebook or myspace cuz people have said some really mean things n she'll be :(
From Quinn: Thanks, B! I'll make sure to get to it first so she doesn't see it.
After a minute of thinking about it, overthinking it, and deciding that it was pretty stupid, she sent another text.
From Quinn: Thank you for being my Dory.
From Brittany: Just keep swimming! Just keep swimming! Swimming, swimming, swimming! LUV that movie! Anytime and ur welcome! See you tom, Q!
Quinn knew Brittany would get it.
The end of dinner came all too soon. Quinn had offered to help wash the dishes, but Hiram and Leroy had declined her invitation for help. After offering, Quinn followed Rachel back upstairs to where her purse and shoes still were. In Rachel's room, she cast a nervous glance at the laptop sitting on Rachel's desk.
"Hey, this is going to sound crazy, maybe, but… you trust me, right?" Quinn asked, moving her hands nervously against each other. "I mean, with the whole quid pro quo thing, that's what we're doing is trusting each other. Right?"
"Sure, Quinn," Rachel said. "I'm glad that we can tell each other anything. I've never had a relationship with someone other than my dads were I felt the freedom to be open and honest before, and though it's only been a couple of days, if there's something you-"
A hand being held up silenced the talkative brunette. "So, if I asked you to sign on to Facebook for me so I can unfriend most of your friends, you'd trust me to do that, right?"
Rachel looked up at her confused. "I… guess? Why would you want to, though?"
Quinn sighed and ran hands through her hair, pushing it back over her shoulders. God, it would be so much easier to lie to her, but that's not what they did. Stupid honesty. "Because it's possible that Brittany texted me and said that people have said some horrible stuff on there, and I didn't want you to have to read it."
Rachel's "oh" was quietly introspective, but at least she wasn't crying about it, so Quinn was looking at it as a win. There had been enough tears between the both of them for a while. After a while, Rachel finally said, "And you don't think it would maybe benefit me to see some of these comments?"
"Honestly, I can't imagine how it would." There would only be hurt at seeing how much people disliked her, though for the life of her, Quinn couldn't figure out why beyond Quinn had made them. Rachel was bossy and a know-it-all and pushy and kind of a brownnoser, but she wasn't any worse than a lot of other people at the school. Then again, those people didn't have two gay dads or the talent and drive to get out of this stupid little town. Those other people broke and joined the ranks of normalcy or, like Kurt, left. For most of her life, Rachel wouldn't. Until four days ago.
And maybe they were both thinking the same thing, because Rachel eventually said, "You're right", walked over to her computer, and signed into Facebook for Quinn, turning her back and leaving her, trusting her, to do whatever she needed to. Quinn ended up unfriending nearly everyone in Rachel's friends list save for the people in Glee Club, her dads, and some other people with the last name Berry that Quinn assumed were relatives. Then, while Rachel wasn't looking, she signed into her own Facebook account and left a message on Rachel's wall, hoping she would get it later and it might make her feel better.
'Rachel, I know you're Jewish and this is a Catholic prayer, but it always helps me. It's also a song by Sarah McLaughlin, if that's any consolation…
Lord make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
And where there is sadness, joy.
O divine master grant that I may
Not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive.
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
And it's in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen'
After that, Quinn signed off of Rachel's computer and turned in the desk chair to look at her, saying, "I hope that took care of all of it. If there's anyone that I missed, or if I accidentally unfriended people you're actually friends with, I apologize."
"Thanks," Rachel said from where she still sat on the bed clutching some stuffed animal that Quinn had missed the first time up there. It was a round red and white stuffed pig about the size of a volleyball. Quinn looked at it questioningly, but Rachel just said, "Miss Piggybottoms" and gave the animal a squeeze before setting it back on the nightstand beside her bed.
And then, after Quinn was back in her shoes with clutch in hand, they were back downstairs and walking towards the kitchen to say goodbye to Rachel's fathers. Looking over towards Rachel, Quinn noticed she was biting her lip nervously and trying to subtly cast glances at her from the corner of her eye, though Rachel was failing miserably at subtle. The girl was about as subtle as an explosion.
"Just go ahead and say whatever it is you want to say, Berry," Quinn said with a grin, turning to face her once they were down the steps.
"Well…" Rachel started, still worrying her lip between her teeth. "I just wanted to say that I had fun today." Quinn raised a questioning eyebrow at her, and Rachel started backtracking. "Okay, well, maybe not fun in the strictest dictionarily appropriate sense, but for a while there, watching the movie, and then again during dinner, it was fun-ish. Right? I mean, it wasn't just me, was it? Because it's okay if it was just me. You didn't have fun did you? God, this was such a stupid-"
Rachel was cut off by a finger going to her lips, effectively shushing her. "Yes, Berry, I had fun. Ish." Again, Quinn couldn't help but smirk at the girl. The rambling Quinn was used to, but that constantly questioning herself, that was new. That wasn't the girl she knew. "I'm glad I came over."
"Okay, good," Rachel said, a smile gracing her features. They stood there in silence for a moment as Quinn watched Rachel's eyes darting about, going from the floor, up to Quinn's face for a moment, then back down to the floor. "You know, you could come back tomorrow if you wanted…"
Ah, the cause of Rachel's sudden shyness. In all honesty, Quinn wanted to come back. She enjoyed spending time with Rachel. Who would have guessed, right? But this Rachel was changed from the mostly annoying, high strung girl she had been in the past. This Rachel was more subdued, less annoying, less talkative. And even the parts that Quinn should have been annoyed about, like the demand she stay for dinner and the trying to fix her hair, weren't annoying at the moment. She knew Rachel was just trying to be nice and friendly in her own pushy kind of way. It was almost cute, seeing Rachel trying so hard.
"I'd like to, Rachel, really," Quinn said, and she could already see the girl's face falling from the smile she'd just been wearing a moment ago, "but I already have plans with Brittany and Santana tomorrow. We're doing a Christmas movie marathon. It's kind of a tradition."
"Oh, no, that's okay," Rachel said, taking a step back and wrapping her arms around her midsection. And, God, she's using that fucking gray emotionless voice again, Quinn realized. "I've taken up too much of your time over the last few days anyway. You should spend time with your actual friends. I'll, um, I'll see you around, Quinn."
She was already turning around to walk back upstairs when Quinn grabbed her good hand and turned her back around. "Rachel," she said, pulling her close and looking directly into her eyes. "You are one of my actual friends." And in a move that she knew would definitely piss Santana off, she offered, "Would you like to come with? I know you're not really big on Christmas, being Jewish and all, but it might be nice to get out of here for a while tomorrow."
And that was all it took to get Rachel to go from emotionless gray back to huge happy smile, at least for that moment. Rachel rushed off to ask her dads, and Quinn followed reluctantly behind, thinking about the conversation she was going to have to have with Santana about… wow, just about everything. Inappropriate comments, jokes… everything.
"Dad, Daddy," Quinn heard Rachel asking as she walked into the kitchen. "Am I grounded for trying to kill myself?" Quinn went wide-eyed as she exchanged looks with Hiram and Leroy, who was currently choking on his coffee.
"Jesus, Rachel!" Quinn said. "You can't just… you can't just ask stuff like that, okay?"
"Why not?" Rachel asked, looking honestly confused.
"There are just some things that you don't say," Quinn said. "Do you just ask say everything that pops into your head?"
"Usually, yes," Rachel said. Quinn face-palmed, suddenly thinking that having her and Santana in the same room wasn't such a great idea after all, but Rachel was already talking again, and it was too late to tape her mouth shut. "So am I? Because Quinn invited me to hang out with her and some of the girls from Glee Club to watch some Christmas movies tomorrow." It took a second, but Quinn got what Rachel was doing. Instead of asking to hang out with some of the Cheerios who had bullied her, she was asking to hang out with 'some of the girls from Glee' instead because she knew that, while Cheerios would get a definite no, Glee Club might get a yes. Very clever, Miss Berry, she thought, this time keeping her smirk to herself.
"I don't know, Rachel," Leroy said, no longer choking to death. "Don't you think it would be best to maybe spend some time here recuperating? This is just your first day at home."
"It's just watching movies, Daddy," Rachel said. "It's not like I'm going mountain climbing. I think I'll be okay. I can take my meds with me, and Quinn can babysit me all day to make sure nothing goes wrong." And by 'nothing goes wrong', Quinn knew that everyone was thinking about Rachel's next attempt. Great. Quinn would be on suicide watch. Just… awesome. God, the things she did just to not see that fucking sad look on Berry's face.
Hiram stepped in this time, pulling Leroy to the side and having a whispered argument with him. The words "girls" "school" and "movies" were heard, as well as Leroy saying the phrase "transfer her if we have to". Quinn looked over at Rachel who was staring back at Quinn, embarrassed. Eventually the whispered argument came to an end and Hiram turned back to Rachel and Quinn, saying, "That'll be fine."
After everything was settled in which they all discussed what time Quinn would pick Rachel up, what medications Quinn would need to make sure Rachel took, the fact that Rachel wouldn't be allowed to put any closed doors between herself and another person, and just exactly who would be there… which of course started another argument in which Leroy was upset about the past actions of Santana, Rachel assured both of her fathers that Santana hadn't bullied Rachel at all this year, and Hiram convinced him that Brittany seemed to be a really sweet girl and that her name wasn't on the list at all… after all of that, Leroy and Hiram were eventually placated enough to let Quinn leave for the night.
After a long goodbye hug to Rachel which had Quinn wondering just when that started, she was sitting out in her car saying a silent prayer of thanks for letting everything turn out the way it did. She'd been able to help Rachel where her father hadn't, and while she did feel bad for them, she couldn't help but be proud of herself. She was doing exactly what she set out to do: help Rachel get better. Along with the thanks, though, she was also asking for strength. The strength to continue being able to help Rachel. The strength to stand up for her in the face of her peers at school when they go back. The strength to continue resisting the disgusting urges she was having about Rachel and whatever feelings she may or may not have for the girl. Also, the strength to have the conversation she was about to have with Santana.
"What up, bitch? You finally find time for your actual friends?" was apparently how Santana was answering the phone tonight. Wonderful.
"Hey, San," Quinn said, ignoring the girl's question on the other end… though, if that's how she was going to start it, might as well jump right in, right? "So, I'm bringing Rachel over tomorrow to join our Christmas movie marathon. Do you have anything vegan friendly at your house or should we bring something?"
"Whoa, what? Please tell me I heard… anything else, really," Santana said. "You're bringing Suicidal Suzy to our Christmas movie marathon? Wasn't it enough that we had to deal with your overemotional lard ass last year? Now you want to bring another person to cry through the last fifteen minutes of every movie like you did? What the actual fuck, Q?"
Quinn sighed, starting the car and pulled out of the driveway, holding the phone between her shoulder and ear because her Bluetooth was… somewhere? Yeah, it was definitely somewhere. "Look, Rachel asked me to hang out tomorrow and I said that I was busy with you and Britts, but she looked so… disappointed… that I just had to invite her. You would have done the same."
"Um, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't," Santana said. "Berry can be by herself for a day and be fine. She's a big girl. And I'm sure daddy dearest and daddy dearest are both waiting on her hand and foot. Probably has a little silver bell she rings to get… I don't know. What do you feed a hobbit? Leaves or some shit?"
"Santana, can't you just-"
"No, Q, I can't," Santana said with a huff. "First it's depressing, homeless, baby-on-board Christmas last year, now it's 'oh my God my life is so horrible I should end it' Christmas this year? I get yours. Some idiot knocking me up and trying to figure out what to do with his spawn would depress me, too, but Berry-"
"Fuck you, S," Quinn said, pressing the end call button on her phone. How dare she bring up Bet… the baby like that? Not now, not at Christmas time when Quinn was already hating herself for… for everything, really. This would be her first Christmas, with the tiny little ornaments that said "Baby's First Christmas" and the stocking and, God, would it have been so difficult to keep the baby, really? Yes, she knew that it would have been, and that it would have changed both of their lives and not necessarily for the better, and she knew that she had done what was right, but… Damn it. It still hurt.
"Oh, Mickey,
You're so fine,
You're so fine you blow my mind,
Hey Mickey"
Quinn's phone was suddenly singing out, still clutched in her hand, and she answered it without looking at it, already knowing that setting up that particular ringtone had to have been Santana's doing. She didn't even remember leaving her phone alone with her. "What?"
There was a pregnant pause on the phone, followed by, "I'm sorry. That was shitty of me."
"It was," Quinn said. "So here's what's going to happen. Rachel and I are going to watch Christmas movies tomorrow. We're going to invite Brittany who you and I both know is going to come and spend the day with us because she actually likes Rachel and feels bad about not going to her birthday party. If you would like to come, you're more than welcome to, but I'm going to tell Brittany how you didn't want Rachel to join us." Santana started to protest, but Quinn cut her off. "Or, we could still have it at your house like we originally talked about, except with Rachel, and Brittany is none the wiser. Your choice."
There was some incoherent mumbling on the other end, though that could have just been Santana cursing in Spanish, then a "Fine… Be here at nine tomorrow morning" before she hung up without another word.
It was low, bringing Brittany into the argument, and Quinn knew it, but Santana had started it by mentioning the baby. That was something no one was allowed to do. And now, they were all going to spend the day together watching movies and hanging out. Lovely, Quinn thought as she pulled into her own driveway. What could possibly go wrong?