Author's Note: This chapter felt disjointed at times while writing it, but I think (hope) it works. I like it anyway. Reading other stories, I always see them apologizing for things not happening or things going slowly. I'm not going to do that, because I'm like 60k+ words in and it's only been five days in their time. Clearly I'm wordy. Probably needlessly so. The people that have reviewed that I've responded to can probably attest to that. I really hope you all are okay with that. I don't know any other way to do this story justice. I really should try something short and happy, like limit myself to 2,000 words and make it fluffy. That's neither here nor there, though.

Also, if anyone recognizes Quinn's coffee order, I straight up stole it from "America, She's Beautiful" by K'sChoiceofAFI because that writer is awesome, their story is great, and I know absolutely nothing about coffee, much less difficult orders.

Oh, and as always, reviews are greatly appreciated as well as very much needed. I got a lot of brainstorming/thinking/planning done in responding to reviews (though anonymous reviews are always welcome). And if there's anything you want to see in this story, let me know. Everything is up for consideration, because I only have vague ideas about what I'm doing.

Also, new longest chapter! Woot!

Quinn arrived at Rachel's house at 8am the next morning. When Quinn had told her the previous night that she could call or text her if she had any questions, she didn't really expect anything from the girl. It was just a day of watching movies, with maybe a sleepover. Simple. She should've known better. Rachel had blown up her phone half the night with random questions, comments, worries, and concerns. Yes, those last two were the same thing to most people, but apparently Rachel had a 'worry ranking system' and felt the two were different. All Quinn could wonder was how often someone could take those antianxiety pills, and if there would ever be enough in the world for Rachel Berry.

Once in Rachel's driveway, Quinn said a prayer asking for strength because, with Santana and Rachel in the same place for hours on end, she wasn't sure how much of a headache that would cause, but she was fairly certain she would have one before it was over. At least she remembered to get the bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol before she left the house.

Quinn left the safety of her car behind and walked towards the front door, ringing the doorbell and again hearing the musical notes playing throughout the house. After a few moments, Hiram opened the door with a simple "Good Morning, Quinn" and allowed her in. It wasn't exactly friendly, but she was glad that she and Rachel's dads had at least come to an uneasy truce the previous night. All things helping Rachel get better were apparently going to be admitted until deemed harmful, Quinn included. "Rachel's still upstairs. I'll just go and get her."

Quinn watched as Hiram ascended the stairs, glancing back only once to see her standing there in the foyer. She wasn't nervous, per se, but she wasn't exactly comfortable either. Quinn was generally charming and well mannered. She was a Fabray, after all. That meant most adults generally fawned over how sweet and well-behaved she was. They never saw the Ice Queen that ruled the halls of McKinley. They instead received the charming daughter persona that Russell and Judy Fabray had cultivated. The cheerleader. The Chastity Ball Princess. The Homecoming Queen. The wholesome, all-American, hometown Ohio girl that people loved. So for Leroy and Hiram to be so suspicious of her, for them to range somewhere between dislike and mistrust, was… off-putting… to say the least.

"Quinn," Leroy said, coming into the living room from the kitchen after a few minutes. He stared at her appraisingly for a moment before shaking his head slightly, clearly still on the fence about her, though that didn't stop him from being a good host. It was something she could appreciate, being a Fabray. "Can I offer you anything? Juice? Soda? Coffee? We've already had breakfast, but there are some bagels left over if you'd like."

"No, thank you," Quinn said, smiling politely. "My mother fixed breakfast before leaving for work this morning, and I was going to stop with Rachel to pick up some coffee for us and Brittana after the grocery store."

"Brittana?" Leroy asked.

"I'm sorry," Quinn said, chuckling. "Brittany and Santana have spent so much time around each other over the last couple of years that a lot of the girls on the Cheerios call them 'Brittana'. It's a portmanteau of their names. You know, like Bennifer or Branjelina?"

"Of course," Leroy said. "But isn't that usually reserved for couples rather than best friends? Rachel never mentioned anything about them dating."

"They're not dating- well, not each other, at least, but…" Quinn blushed slightly, ignoring eye contact with Leroy for a moment while she smiled. "Well, um… Brittany and Santana have an… interesting… friendship."

"Oh," Leroy said, swallowing. At least Quinn wasn't the only one uncomfortable anymore. "Well that's… um…"

"Yeah."

From upstairs, Quinn heard Rachel's voice raise along with Hiram's, the sound of quick angry stomps, and then Rachel was making her way down the stairs. At the bottom she huffed, shooting a furious glare back up the staircase and folding her arms in front of her. "Hello, Quinn," she said angrily.

"Hi?" Quinn responded, arching an eyebrow in question. She noticed Rachel was wearing loose blue jeans with white sneakers and a baggy pink hoodie that said 'I Heart New York' on the front. It was so unlike anything Quinn had ever seen Rachel wear that she was momentarily taken aback. Sure, yesterday Rachel had been wearing casual clothes, but she'd been at home then. Now, going back out into the world, Quinn had expected the reemergence of animal sweaters, argyle, and plaid skirts. Instead, it seemed like this Rachel just wanted to blend in for once.

"Everything okay, baby?" Leroy asked, reaching out a hand to Rachel's shoulder and pulling her in for side hug. She didn't seem as reluctant as she had yesterday, so Quinn was counting that as progress. Baby steps, she told herself.

"No," Rachel said, turning to glare at the stairs again. "He is being impossible." Leroy must have heard this kind of criticism before because he kept silent, and after a minute, Rachel continued her complaint. "I was just getting a bag together to take over to Santana's because that's what Quinn said to do last night, and Dad insisted on helping me pack. All I needed was a pair of pajamas and a change of clothes, just in case, right?" She turned to Quinn for confirmation who just nodded slowly, which must have been what Rachel wanted, because she said, "Right! So that man pulled out one of my suitcases and started piling in four different outfits, board games, a flashlight, a first aid kit. Santana's father is a doctor, Daddy. I don't think I'll need a first aid kit."

Leroy smiled and patted Rachel on the head, saying, "Let me talk to him. I'm sure I can pare it down a bit." He started towards the stairs, then looked back at Rachel who was still standing there huffing with fiercely crossed arms, looking away from the stairs. "Was there anything specific you wanted?"

"I had everything packed in my gym bag before he decided to 'help'," Rachel said, uncrossing her arms just long enough to make those ridiculously big air quotes. She looked away from the staircase again, as if the mere sight of it was enough to incite her anger while Leroy diligently made his way up.

Rachel just stood there fuming while Quinn looked around, awkwardly. "So, uh, I like your sweatshirt."

As if just realizing Quinn was there, Rachel's face went from angrily petulant to almost shy. "Thanks," she said, brushing nonexistent lint from the front of it with her non-braced right hand. "I got it a couple of years ago. In New York. Obviously." She chuckled nervously at herself.

"Cool," Quinn said. "I've just never seen you wear it. You always wear those atrocious animal sweaters and the plaid skirts. It's a little odd to see you dressed so…"

"Normally?" Rachel offered.

"I was going to say… something nicer," Quinn said, "but yeah."

"I…" Rachel started, looking up at the stairs again, though this time with an almost wistful look, anger forgotten. "My Dad… Hiram… he likes the way I dress. He used to always pick out my clothes when I was little, and I never really knew any better. I mean, I'd see how the other girls dressed, and I'd sometimes think that I looked different than them, but people dress differently sometimes. My dads always complimented me on how pretty and smart I looked, so I didn't really think too much about it. I mean, until girls started making fun of me for it. Then I realized that a lot of what I wore wasn't as attractive or as flattering as what they wore. I wanted to complain and change my wardrobe, but my Dad was so happy whenever we went clothes shopping that I didn't want to hurt his feelings. He doesn't really know anything about fashion, y'know? Not like… not like a mom would, but… he still tries."

Quinn stood there speechless because, really, every time Rachel said something like that Quinn just wanted to hug her and tell her she was a good person and that it was the world that was wrong. It was people like Quinn that were wrong. How many times had she made fun of Rachel's clothes? Even just now, she hadn't had a second thought about calling Rachel's sweaters 'atrocious'. "Rachel…"

"It's okay, Quinn," Rachel said, shrugging. "You're sorry. I get it. You didn't know. Nobody does." Rachel looked back down at what she was wearing and again brushed at the nonexistent lint. "After everything, though, I just didn't want to draw attention to myself anymore. I just wanted to blend in. To look… normal." Before Quinn could say anything… and really, she didn't know what she was going to say. Another apology? Lie and tell Rachel that her other clothes looked fine? She honestly didn't know. Thankfully, before she could say anything, Rachel said, "You look nice, by the way. I really like that coat."

"Thanks," Quinn said, looking down at her own outfit: white turtleneck, skinny black jeans, leather boots, red pea coat. She had no idea why she'd felt the need to dress up today. Maybe to impress Rachel's fathers? Quinn just knew she wanted to look nice when she came over this morning. "It was a Christmas gift from my mom last year. Or, I guess it would have been if I'd been living there at the time. She finally gave it to me a couple of weeks ago when it started getting colder."

"Well I like it," Rachel said, smiling and reaching out to pull at the lapels of the coat. "Your mom has good taste."

"I'll tell her you think so," Quinn said, returning the smile and reaching up to grab and still Rachel's hands that were nervously playing with her coat. They stood there for a minute, eyes locked on each other with Quinn's hands wrapped around Rachel's smaller, definitely unmanly hands. Where had that stupid nickname even come from? Rachel's hands were soft and beautiful, just like the rest of her, and, God, why couldn't she stop staring at her? She shouldn't be thinking that Rachel is pretty. Beautiful. Whatever. She shouldn't be thinking anything about Rachel that isn't just friendly or trying to help her get better. Releasing her hands and taking a step back, Quinn added, "She'll, um, be glad to hear it."

Suddenly, there were footsteps on the stairs, and Quinn looked towards the staircase where Leroy and Hiram were coming down. "I talked your father into going with your original packing job," Leroy said, smiling triumphantly as he made his way down the stairs carrying a small overnight bag. Hiram looked to be doing his best not to pout, and, really, genetics were amazing because she could totally see where Rachel got that from. The pushiness, the pout, the dramatic attitude. Quinn had gotten to know Shelby a bit throughout the adoption process, and Rachel definitely got her looks from her, but personality…? She was absolutely Hiram's daughter.

"I still don't see what's wrong with being prepared," Hiram said, frowning. "Monopoly is a perfectly acceptable game, and a few extra outfits never hurt anyone."

"Can we just go?" Rachel asked Quinn once she'd taken her bag from Leroy and shouldered it, doing her best to ignore Hiram.

"Soon," Quinn said. Rachel wanted to argue, but Quinn was holding up a hand to silence her, something that was becoming commonplace. Had it always been that easy to silence Rachel? Quinn had to imagine that if it had, someone else would have figured it out by now. But that led to other questions… Was this 'new' Rachel just more easily influenced into being quiet, or was it just Quinn that could now easily silence her? "I still need to get your meds and make sure I'm not forgetting anything. Then we'll be going. Okay?"

"Fine." Rachel huffed, matching her Dad's mood.

Quinn grinned at the both of them, following Leroy into the kitchen as he again told her about Rachel's medicine chart. There was the antidepressant, the antianxiety pills as needed, and the pain medication for her healing wrists. Leroy explicitly forbade alcohol of any kind, not only because the girls were underage but also because of the reactions it could have with Rachel's medication. Quinn assured her there would be no alcohol, not even spiked eggnog or rum cake. "The last time I got drunk, I made a mistake that changed my life," Quinn said, absentmindedly running a hand over her flat stomach. "It's not something I'm thinking about doing any time soon."

Leroy appraised her for a moment before reluctantly handing her the pill bottles. "Quinn…" he started, shaking his head. "You'll understand my difficulty here. I guess I'm just having trouble reconciling the girl in front of me, the girl I met at the hospital, with the girl I read about in those letters. I know people can change, but… she's my daughter. You're her bully. The reason she used to come home crying every day. I don't know if-"

"Daddy? Quinn?" Rachel asked, walking into the kitchen. "It's just medicine. It shouldn't be taking this long." Seeing the way Leroy was standing, arms crossed and looking down at Quinn, Rachel started to get upset. "Daddy, you're not lecturing Quinn are you? We talked about this. You can't-"

"No, it's fine, Rachel," Quinn said, smiling back at her. "Your dad was just telling me that we shouldn't stay up too late or do anything too active because the pain meds might make you sleepy. It's cool."

"Oh," Rachel said, grinning. "That's okay, then. We won't do anything too active, Daddy." She went over to him, and he pulled her into a hug, looking over his daughter's head at Quinn who just shrugged. "We're just watching movies."

"Right, right, I know, Rae-Rae," Leroy said. "You know how we worry about you, though. Especially now." He pulled away from her, breaking the embrace but still keeping his hands on her shoulder and stooping down to look Rachel in the eye. "And if anything, and I really do mean anything, happens that upsets you or makes you feel uncomfortable or upset, no matter what, you know that you can call either your Dad or I and we'll be there to pick you up, right?"

"I know, Daddy," Rachel said, reaching up to kiss Leroy on the cheek. "So we can go now, right? I don't want to make us late."

Leroy sighed again, finally letting Rachel go. They turned to leave, but Leroy put out a hand, stopping Quinn. Once Rachel was out of earshot, Leroy added, "Quinn, I was thinking about what you said earlier. About your friends. Be sure to tell them that if they ever need someone to talk to, Hiram and I are here. We know how difficult it is being gay in a town like this."

"I don't…" Quinn stuttered, taken aback. "You'd… you'd do that? Even after everything with Rachel and… and everything in the letters?"

"There's not exactly an abundance of role models in this town for people like us," Leroy said, and Quinn quirked an eyebrow. Did he mean 'us' as in 'Hiram and I' or 'us' as in 'you and I'? "We know how hard it can be."

"That would be…," Quinn started, carefully guarding her words. "Thanks. I'm sure they'll appreciate the offer, even if they don't take you up on it. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Quinn." Leroy patted her on the back and led her out of the kitchen towards Rachel and Hiram in the living room. "And if you know anyone else who could benefit from our area of expertise, feel free to pass that information on to them as well." Leroy added, looking at her knowingly.

There was a split-second there where Quinn knew her face betrayed her before she felt that familiar Fabray mask of fake cordiality and calm indifference fall back into place. For a moment, though she had been thankful. No, not her. Stupid fucking Lucy Caboosey and her fucking need for acceptance that reminded Quinn so much of the Rachel that she hated. Ugh. Fucking weak. But, whatever. Fuck Leroy Berry. He didn't know anything about her. "I'll do that," Quinn said, fake smile firmly in place. "Though, besides Kurt, I don't know anybody that could." Before he could respond, she was already walking towards the door, looking back at Rachel. "Ready?"

She must have caught some of this new tension because Rachel looked questioningly between Quinn and Leroy before nervously saying, "…yes?"

"Good," Quinn said, tone icy as she slipped her sunglasses into place and opened the door. "We really should be going. Hate to be late and all."

Hugging her fathers goodbye, Rachel again shouldered her bag and followed Quinn out to her red convertible VW Beetle. Quinn opened Rachel's door, took the bag from her, and threw it in the backseat with her own Cheerios duffel bag. Once Rachel was in the car, Quinn closed her door and went around to the driver's side, getting in and taking off. Rachel looked in her mirror at her fathers watching from down the street at the retreating car.

The drive to the grocery store was silent as Quinn stared out at the road, angrily thinking about what Leroy had said… well, implied. 'People like us'. How dare he judge her like that? He had no right. None. She'd done nothing but be kind to him, his husband, and his daughter since they'd met, and now he insulted her like this? She wasn't gay. She wasn't. Lucy might have had certain… interests… in girls, but Quinn wasn't following through on them. It wasn't a thought that made someone a bad person, but an action, right? Like, she'd been mad at people before and randomly thought about running them down with her car, but that didn't make her a murderer. It was only if she'd actually done it that would have made it wrong. Likewise, thoughts about girls didn't make someone gay, it was actually doing it. The sin is in the action, not the thought. Isn't that what they said? Someone, somewhere? God, it was too early for this. She just wanted to sit around and watch Christmas movies and not think about any girls for the-

"Quinn?" Rachel asked, interrupting her thoughts. Right. She was totally just going to relax and not think about girls while bringing her own personal temptation with her. Fuck. This was such a stupid idea. What the hell was she thinking? Not only would Rachel be there, looking all sad and pathetic making Quinn want to just hug her and comfort her, but she was also going to have to dodge Santana's snarky remarks about… well, everything… and she'd have to probably watch Santana and Brittany cuddling the entire time. Double fuck. This whole stupid day was already starting to piss her off. God, this was worse than the emotional, hormonal pregnant wreck she'd been last year.

"Quinn is…?" Rachel started to ask something, but once Quinn was actually looking her way, she seemed to change her mind. "Nothing. Forget it."

"What, Berry?" Quinn snapped, a little harsher than she meant.

"No, it's nothing," Rachel said even quieter and went back to looking out the window. Whatever. Let her pout. It was an accident. Quinn wasn't going to apologize for losing her temper. It was Rachel's dad that had pissed her off, anyway.

As they pulled up to the grocery store, Quinn surveyed the parking lot and mumbled another curse or two. It was early on a Thursday morning, and she had hoped there wouldn't be too many people out shopping. Apparently the fact that it was only two days until Christmas dashed those hopes, though. She pulled into the parking lot as close as she could, hoping that the crowd wouldn't make her too late. They still had the Lima Bean to hit for coffee, and Quinn really wanted nothing more than to lose herself in some Christmas movies for a few hours.

As soon as Quinn was out of the car, she was walking around to Rachel's side and opening the door for her and helping her out of the car. "Oh, um, thanks," Rachel said, grinning. "I can still open doors, though."

"Right, of course," Quinn said, mentally smacking herself in the forehead because that's something that she just refused to do in real life. Of course Rachel could open a door. God, get it together, Fabray. With an icy tone that Rachel didn't deserve, Quinn added, "I was just trying to help, Berry." Because she was Quinn Fabray and she didn't do 'nice' or 'helpful'. This being around Rachel, this wanting to take care of her, it was making her soft and weak and basically driving her crazy. She wouldn't stand for it.

"I appreciate the thought, Quinn," Rachel said as they made their way to the entrance, though the smile was gone from her face. She was either ignoring her bitchiness or so used to it after the last couple of years that she no longer questioned it, and then Quinn was feeling even guiltier for snapping at Rachel. She hadn't done anything to warrant it. She was just being concerned for Quinn because clearly she was upset about something. Ugh. Fucking Leroy and his incriminations. She'd been having such a good morning.

The doors opened automatically as they walked up to the store, Rachel staying a half step behind Quinn. She wasn't sure if Rachel was upset with her for snapping at her or just used to being behind the Head Bitch that Quinn had been… still was… whatever, but either way, it was annoying. Yet she couldn't lash out at her again so soon for something so little. She wasn't that horrible, was she? Then again, she was being all Icy-Bitch-Quinn on her for something her dad did, so she wasn't exactly a saint, either.

Deciding to not think about it too hard right now, Quinn grabbed a basket as they passed by them and headed towards the snack food aisle. She knew Santana loved some kind of freakishly hot habanero chips, so she went straight toward the potato chips. She was screwing up Santana's movie marathon for the second year in a row, and, okay, Santana was a bitch, but she still felt bad about it. So Quinn snatched up a bag as she walked by as a peace offering, looking back at Rachel as she did to make sure she was still following her and not off somewhere pouting.

Looking at Rachel, she was struck by a sudden memory of herself, probably four or five years old, following her mother around this same grocery store. Little Lucy Fabray, a pudgy girl with brown hair and glasses, holding a basket like a 'big girl' just like Judy Fabray who was smiling down at her. She wanted so bad to carry something in her basket, just like her mom was doing.

It was a simple memory, a nothing memory, but seeing Rachel following slightly behind her and carrying her own basket that Quinn hadn't even realized she'd picked up reminded her just how alike Rachel and Lucy were. It also reminded Quinn of some of the reasons she'd hated Rachel in the first place. It seemed like everything that Quinn had to change about herself to become the person she was now, Rachel had just accepted about herself. Was that why she hated Rachel? Because she reminded her of Lucy? God, this was too heavy for grocery shopping.

"You should just get whatever you want," Quinn said after staring at Rachel for a while as the girl studied the chips section with her 'serious face'. She held up Santana's chips to Rachel. "I'm just getting these for Santana, as kind of a…" She stopped, imagining that conversation playing out in her head. 'Bribe.' 'For what, Quinn?' 'In order for her to be nice to you when she clearly doesn't like you.' Yeah, that'll go over well, she thought. "…as a thanks for letting us spend today at her house again this year. Her dad has a really nice setup in the basement. Anyway, then I thought I'd get some popcorn and some of those Starburst Jelly Beans for myself, and Brittany said she was bringing gummy worms and cookies and Red Bull. So, really, whatever you want is fine. Go nuts." Then her eyes lit up, because, ooh, she had forgot about those honey roasted cashews that she used to share with her mom many Christmases ago. This was one of the few times a year that they let themselves go, snack-food-wise, and Quinn wasn't going to waste the opportunity. "I'll be right back," she said, already walking away to go get them.

She walked down a little ways to the cans and jars of nuts, checking out different selections. She grabbed a can of the honey roasted cashews, reconsidered for a second, and then grabbed a second can for home. It'd be nice to share with her mom again. Quinn also snagged a jar of some kind of 'Five Alarm Chili' peanuts, also for Santana. When it came to food at least, she knew her friend lived up to her 'Satan' nickname. Though now that she'd gotten Santana two things, she couldn't not get Brittany something, so, casting another glance at Rachel who was still studying potato chips bags, Quinn quickly walked an aisle over to the candy section and picked up some Starburst Jellybeans for her and some gummy bears for Brittany.

As Quinn was leaving the candy section, an idea hit her and she started looking around at the candy again. She was getting things for Santana and Brittany, but not for Rachel. That didn't seem right. Quinn had invited her, wanted to make her a part of today. It was only right that she be treated the same as her actual… as her other friends. 'No, go ahead, Q. Finish that thought' her inner Santana said. Quinn had to wonder… was Rachel an actual friend? She wanted her to be. But why? Why now? Was it because Rachel had almost died and Quinn felt responsible? Or because facing the idea of losing Rachel made Quinn want to keep her closer in her life? Damn, what was it about this morning that was causing her to be all introspective? Focus, Quinn, she thought. Today is just about movies and candy and friends. God, please just let it be about that. Please.

Deciding that it didn't matter if Rachel was a friend or not, Quinn knew she still wanted to do something nice for her. Looking around, she noticed some dark chocolate covered almonds. From what she knew about veganism- wait, is that even a word? Quinn wondered- they should be vegan friendly. Dark chocolate wasn't the same as milk chocolate, and almonds were definitely okay. Scouring the ingredients, Quinn didn't see anything that screamed 'made from animal', so she figured they were safe.

While on that aisle, Quinn also picked out some movie theater buttered popcorn. She had no idea if the butter movie theaters used was any different than regular butter, or if this popcorn was even buttered with butter from an actual movie theater, but they were watching movies today so she just decided to keep with the theme and get it.

Looking around, she couldn't see anything else she would need to get, so Quinn went back over to the chip aisle to find Rachel holding a bag of chips excitedly and looking around. Once she spotted Quinn, she rushed over, saying, "Look, they have Garden of Eatin'. They're vegan friendly and organic and really good. You have to try them."

Quinn stared at the chips in the excited brunette's hand for a moment. "They're blue."

"They're blue corn," Rachel said. "They're supposed to be blue."

"Rachel, corn isn't blue."

"But," Rachel faltered, looking from the bag to Quinn then back to the bag. "But it's blue corn. It's a thing."

"And yet I'm fairly certain if we went over to the corn right now, it'd be either white or yellow," Quinn said. "Or creamed. But definitely not blue."

Rachel held the bag up and pointed at the words in big bold type. "It says right here, 'blue corn'. I don't think they can lie about it. That'd be false advertising."

"Really, I don't think there's such a thing as…" but something had caught Quinn's attention from the corner of her eye. There were two middle aged women standing there talking and looking right at Rachel and Quinn. She was sure that she didn't know them, and decided that they must be someone Rachel, or possibly her dads, knew. "Rachel, do you know those two women over there?"

Rachel followed Quinn's line of sight and at the same time that Rachel lay eyes on them, the truth of it hit Quinn. They weren't talking so much as whispering and pointing at Rachel. They were better at it than the girls at school, but she knew the looks and that type of gossipy, conspiratorial attitude from the women at her former church. Except this time, they were gossiping about Rachel and her.

Quinn's cheeks reddened slightly from the perceived embarrassment. People would know she was out with Rachel Berry, and while she may actually be having a decent time, Quinn's own bitchiness aside, it wasn't good for her reputation. She still wanted to be popular. Who didn't?

"No, I don't know them. Why? Are they… oh," Rachel said, catching on as her voice lost that previous happiness and excitement. She ducked her head and turned away from them, away from Quinn, too, as she caught the look on her face. "I shouldn't have… this was stupid. I'm sorry. I'll just go wait in the car."

"No, wait," Quinn said, reaching out and grabbing a retreating Rachel's good hand and turning her back towards her. "Don't go. You don't have to apologize for anything. They're the ones being rude. Here, let's just get our stuff and go, okay? We still have a ton of movies to look forward to, right?"

Rachel was silent for a minute, refusing to meet Quinn's eyes, and Quinn thought she was going to break down in the store. Finally, she said, "Will you… will you just take me home? Daddy was right. I should have just stayed home. Will you please take me home?"

"No," Quinn said, probably a little too forcefully. "I mean… yes, I'll take you home if you really want me to, but… I wish you wouldn't. Brittany's looking forward to seeing you, and Santana… well, you know, she'll be there. And I really want you there."

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked, looking up. She looked half hopeful, half doubtful. "Because you've been mad since we left, and I don't even know what I did wrong. I feel like I guilted you into inviting me last night, and I don't want to be there if you don't want me there. I'm sure Santana doesn't want me there already, and if Brittany is the only one happy to see me, I'd rather just stay at home. I know my dads want me there with them, even if they don't want to be there with each other."

"Rachel, I do want you there," Quinn said. "And I haven't been mad at you, I've just been…" Two forces were at war within her. She'd promised to tell Rachel the truth, but she couldn't tell her that Leroy thought she was gay. She couldn't tell the truth, yet she didn't want to lie to her. Quinn sighed. "Being around Leroy last night and then again this morning. He clearly doesn't like me or trust me to be around you. It's just… I don't know… grating, I guess. I let that put me in a bad mood, and I'm sorry if I took that out on you, okay?" There. A half-truth. That was better than outright lying, right?

"Oh," Rachel said, eyebrows furrowing, looking down at nothing. "He seemed okay this morning, if a little hesitant for me to be going. I'll have to have a talk with him when-"

"No!" Quinn all but yelled at her, causing a startled Rachel to jump and suddenly refocus on her. Quinn looked around, and okay, now the women down at the end of the aisle were blatantly staring and clearly whispering behind their hands, but whatever. 'Fuck those nosey bitches, Q', her inner Santana said. "I mean, please don't. You can't just talk to him or yell at him and expect him to like me. He has to do that on his own."

"But-"

"No, Rachel," Quinn said. "This is something between me and him that we need to work out. He doesn't trust me, and that's okay. Maybe he will one day."

"This is my fault, though," Rachel said. "If I hadn't written those letters then-"

"No it's not." Again Quinn interrupted her, because for Rachel to be blaming herself was just insane. "This is entirely my fault. If I hadn't bullied you, then there wouldn't have been anything to write about. It's not like Tina or Artie or even Brittany were in those letters, right?" Rachel nodded, eyes unfocused as if remembering the words she'd put down.

Quinn wanted so badly to read those letters, if for no other reason than as a reminder of what she had done and what she would never do again. Bullying Rachel had become so second nature to her that she often did things without even consciously thinking about them. Now Quinn was trying to be conscious of every action. It was honestly exhausting but she was trying to change. What was the saying?

'Be careful what you think.
Your thoughts become your words.
Your words become your actions.
Your actions become your habits.
Your habits become your character.
Your character becomes your destiny.'

Or something like that. The change had started with the baby, getting pregnant and thrown off the Cheerios and finding out who her true friends were. As it turns out, the 'losers' that she had bullied were more loyal than the Cheerios ever were. Going back to the Cheerios this year hadn't been about going back to her 'friends'. It had been about regaining her popularity and status within the school, as well as a love of cheerleading. Now, with Rachel, seeing firsthand how she had suffered and what it had done to her… what it had driven her to… There was no way Quinn would ever go back down that path again.

"It's my fault, Rachel," Quinn said, causing the brunette to look back up at her. "Not yours." Rachel looked like she wanted to argue, because, really, when didn't the little diva want to argue, but Quinn cut her off. "Mine. Now let's go, okay?"

Quinn pulled Rachel along, basket, chips, and all towards the checkout line. On the way, Rachel grabbed a box of iCarly Fruit by the Foot and a bag of Sour Patch Kids. Quinn didn't comment on those. Let Brittany guilt her about that one.

After paying for all their stuff and loading up Quinn's car, they headed out again. On the way out, Quinn had noticed that nearly everyone in the grocery store was staring at Quinn and Rachel. Quinn was used to people staring at school, but this was the real world and these were grown women pointing and staring and whispering. Had they no shame? Was one troubled girl doing what Rachel did really that interesting? Or was it the fact of who Rachel was, the girl with the gay dads, that made it such a big deal? People wanted to be right even if it was about something horrible. This whole situation must have made the people that hated Leroy and Hiram just for being gay so happy.

At the Lima Bean, Rachel had decided to stay in the car, even through Quinn's poking and prodding of trying to get her out. Quinn wanted her to get back into the world like nothing had happened, the same way she used to go about cleaning herself off after a slushie attack and come out of the bathroom smiling and just as determined. As much as it used to annoy Quinn to no end, she knew she'd rather see that Rachel than this broken one. At least then she wouldn't have to feel so guilty all the time. Quinn knew she couldn't push her, though. Whatever Rachel needed to do to get better, Quinn would help her with it, pushing her when she needed to and backing off when the girl wouldn't budge. It was a fine line to walk, but, one day, when she saw Rachel's name up in lights and could point to her and say 'I used to know her', then she knew that it would all be worth it. Rachel was better than this town, better than these people. She wouldn't let it or them bring her down and stomp on her. Not anymore. Not after seeing the very real consequences.

In the Lima Bean, she bought four very specific drinks for herself, Brittany, Santana, and Rachel. Everyone had a specific order, excluding Rachel who was being all depressed after seeing how the people at the grocery store had acted. Rachel had just said to get her "whatever", so Quinn had picked some kind of vegan-friendly, fruit-flavor-infused soy thing.

Back at the car, Quinn handed Rachel the tray, pointing out her drink and saying, "It's vegan, and the girl at the counter said it was popular. I hope you like it."

Rachel took a sip, her eyes lighting up a little bit. "It's really good." She took another sip and smiled. "Raspberry?"

"And coconut," Quinn said, pulling out of the Lima Bean. She glanced over and saw Rachel looking at the names on the sides of the cups, stopping when she came to Quinn's own drink and sniffing it.

"Oh my God, what is this?" Rachel asked, taking another sniff, scrunching her eyes to savor the aroma of it. "It smells amazing."

Quinn smiled at the girl's overenthusiasm at her coffee drink. She had to wonder, though… Was this back and forth of emotions a side effect of the medication Rachel was on, or had she just never spent enough free time around the brunette to notice it? In the last hour, she'd gone from excitement to melancholy to happiness to anxious to bossy to depressed and back to happy and excited again. It was almost tiring being around her, but it was also kind of interesting, never knowing what would come next. Rachel was probably a ridiculously high maintenance girlfriend. How had Finn ever been able to keep up? Rachel needed someone willing to put in the work.

"It's the Head Bitch special," Quinn said, laughing. "Santana named it. I would always punish the Cheerios by making them go get me one without writing it down, and if they got it wrong, I would make them keep going back until they got it right. It's an extra-large hot coffee—half coffee, half hot chocolate, with a shot of espresso, three pumps of mocha, three pumps of caramel swirl, six creams and four liquid sugars."

"And does it come with an insulin shot?" Rachel asked, chuckling. It was a beautiful sound, one Quinn hadn't heard nearly enough in the last week, and it made Quinn laugh, too.

"No, but I did have to stay away from them while I was pregnant," Quinn said, smiling. "San was giving me a hard enough time about the size of my butt as it was. I wasn't about to give her more ammo to insult me with."

"Also, lots of sugary snacks while pregnant can lead to gestational diabetes," Rachel said. "It's bad for the baby."

"I guess," Quinn said, trying not to think about that particular subject. "It's not vegan, but you can try it if you want."

Rachel placed her own drink in the cup holder and pulled Quinn's from the cardboard tray. Quinn glanced over, mesmerized at the way Rachel's pink lip-glossed lips attached onto the spout in the lid of her cup. She felt a fluttery motion in the pit of her stomach at the thought about drinking from the cup later, putting her lips over where Rachel's lips had been. Rachel took a dainty little sip that was very cute and very small and very Rachel. The near orgasmic look that overtook her face a split-second later as the drink registered on her tongue sent shivers through Quinn, though she blamed the cold and cut the heat up another notch. She was not getting off on watching Rachel drink coffee. That would just be wrong.

"Good?" Quinn asked, smiling.

"Oh, God, Quinn," Rachel said. "I think I'm in love." The fluttery thing in Quinn's stomach was there again, and she thought this couldn't possibly be more wrong… until Rachel's next statement. "This is the best thing I've ever put in my mouth." And then there were dirty thoughts that Quinn couldn't seem to get under control all the way to Santana's house.

Upon reaching the Lopez house, Quinn got out of the car and again went over to Rachel's side to open the door for her and help her out of the car. This time Rachel seemed to know enough not to say anything, and Quinn decided that if Rachel wasn't going to mention it, neither would Quinn. They got their bags out of the car, Quinn carrying most of it since Rachel only had the one good arm, and even then it probably wasn't a good idea to carry much with the stitches healing. When they got to the door, Quinn hit the doorbell as best she could.

They waited there for a minute until the door suddenly opened and Santana was standing there, one hand on her hip. She wore William McKinley High School sweats and a t-shirt, hair swept back in a bun on the top of her head. "You look like an overdressed pack mule, Q," she said as he eyes raked over the outfit Quinn was wearing. Turning her head slightly to the left, she eyed Rachel. "Berry." It was noncommittal, not friendly but not insulting. It was about all that Quinn could have hoped for. "Did you bitches bring me coffee?" Rachel held out the cup with Santana's name on it. Santana reached out, took it from her, sniffed it once, then took a sip from it. After closing her eyes and savoring it for a moment, she stepped aside. "Then you can come in."

"So nice, San," Quinn said, lugging the bags through the door. "No, don't help or anything. I got it."

"Good," Santana said, shutting the door. "Wasn't planning on it."

They followed Santana through the kitchen where Quinn said hello to Santana's mom as they passed while Rachel stayed shy and silent, then down the steps and into the basement. Santana's father had at some point sectioned off the basement, turning half of it into a sort of game room for the kids while the parents used the upstairs den. They'd put in an overstuffed couches and a couple of chairs, a television so big that it almost hurt to look at, a few different video game consoles, a giant metallic refrigerator, a pool table, and a ping pong table. The television was on one end of the basement with couch and chairs facing it. There was a bar on one side of the room that would have held alcohol had Santana's parents trusted her in the slightest, while on the other side was a thick door that led to storage areas and Dr. Lopez's workshop where he built birdhouses or painted lawn ornaments or whatever current hobby he was working on. That side of the basement had a separate staircase that led up to another part of the house, so they rarely saw Dr. Lopez while hanging out in the basement. With both Santana's older brother and sister moved out, the Lopez basement had become something of an unofficial hangout for the Unholy Trinity.

"Quinn! Rachel!" Brittany shouted, rushing up to them as if she hadn't seen them in years. She threw her arms around Quinn who was still loaded down with bags, squeezing her, and somehow coming away with a couple of the bags that she helped sit down on the bar. Turning to face Rachel, Brittany was a little more careful, taking the coffee from her and setting it down on the bar before pulling her into an almost gentle hug. To Quinn, it looked like Brittany thought the brunette might break if she squeezed too tight. Santana and Quinn exchanged a curious look and an arched eyebrow as they watched the two girls hugging, Rachel's arms out to the side like she didn't know how to return it. Then, Brittany was letting her go, and Rachel was standing there looking uncomfortable, but at least she was smiling, if somewhat reservedly.

"So what's in the bags?" Santana said, starting to rifle through them. Quinn reached out and smacked her hand, and Santana looked up angrily. "Hey!"

"Be nice, San," Quinn said, teasing her, "or you don't get anything that I brought you."

Santana wanted to argue, but her curiosity and greediness seemed to win out over her anger. Reaching into the bag, Quinn pulled out the bag of chips she'd picked out especially for her and handed them to Santana.

Santana smiled a huge smile, rare for her, and snatched the bag from Quinn. "A girl after my own heart," she said, holding the chips to her chest. "See, that's why I love you."

"Only when you want something," Quinn said, smirking. "Don't think I'm not on to your tricks, Lopez."

"Tricks?" Santana asked, mock hurt. "You wound me woman."

"Don't tempt me," Quinn said.

"Besides," Santana started, ignoring Quinn's joking threat. "I gots my chips. What else would I want from you?"

Quinn reached into another bag, and from there she pulled out the jar of Five Alarm Chili peanuts and tossed them to Santana. She caught the jar and glanced at the label, eyes lighting up. "Now be nice."

"Yes, ma'am," Santana said, saluting her then walking away, turning the salute into flipping her off as she walked away.

"Britts, I knew I couldn't get San something without getting you something," Quinn said, pulling the bag of gummy bears from the grocery bag, "It wouldn't be fair. And you said you were bringing gummy worms, so I thought you might want some gummy variety."

"Ooh, thanks," Brittany said, throwing her arms around Quinn and squeezing her again. "Now my gummy worms will have someone to ride them! I wonder if they make gummy saddles?" she asked, walking away.

Once Santana and Brittany were out of earshot and opening their snacks, Rachel started taking her own junk food out of her grocery bag. "Those were bribes, weren't they?" she asked, not meeting Quinn's eyes.

"I never said they were bribes," Quinn said, automatically defending herself and her friends. "Can't I just do a nice thing for my friends?"

"It's okay," Rachel said quietly, turning to face her. "I know they don't really like me. If you had to bribe them to let me come over, then… thanks. I'm sure it'll be worth it. I know today's special for you three, a tradition, so I'll try not to ruin it."

"Rachel," Quinn said, trying to draw her attention from emptying her grocery bag and setting up her snacks on the bar. When Rachel wouldn't meet her eyes, Quinn reached out and cupped her chin, turning her head slightly so the girl would meet her eyes. "Rachel, chill out, okay? They weren't bribes. If they were bribes, would I have gotten you-" Quinn let go of her chin and reached into the bag, pulling out the package of dark chocolate covered almonds- "these?"

Rachel took them in her hands, holding them and staring down at them like they were some kind of treasure. Had no one done anything nice for this girl? Her dads had to have given her things before just because they were thinking of her. Leroy and Hiram seemed like the best parents, even if their marriage sucked. And surely Finn… okay, no, Finn was a terrible gift giver and kind of clueless as a boyfriend and barely brighter than Brittany, so no. Probably not. Fucking sigh.

"Thank you, Quinn," Rachel said. "I apologize. I never meant to impugn your honor. I was being thoughtless. If you say that you didn't have to bribe your friends to get them to let me stay over today and watch movies with you, then I should have trusted that you were being honest with me. I'm sorry."

Well, shit. Now she felt bad. "Apology accepted," Quinn said. "Now if we can just-"

"Q, this bribe is delicious!" Santana called out around a mouthful of peanuts. Quinn and Rachel both turned to see Santana sitting sideways in a chair and dropping peanuts into her mouth. "Little dry, though. Can you bring me a water?"

Quinn turned back towards Rachel and met her gaze, finding that she was closer to laughing rather than pouting or crying, so yay. Quinn let a small smile peak through, thinking that if Santana wasn't listening in, she had just amazing timing. "I never said it wasn't a bribe. I just said that I never said it was. Only for Santana, though. Brittany really is glad you came over, and… so am I."

Quinn held Rachel's gaze, looking deep into her chocolate brown eyes, watching as the emotions played over them, through them. She wanted so bad to do… something… all of a sudden, but she had no idea what. Maybe hug her? Definitely touch her in some way. Comfort her. Touching was comforting, right? Though she wasn't sure just how she wanted to touch her, and that gave her pause. Everything felt so on edge when she was around Rachel.

"If you bitches are don't making out in there, we'd like to watch some movies at some point," Santana said, causing both of them to blush and look away from each other. Damn her timing.

Quinn left Rachel and went to the refrigerator, taking out a bottle of water for Santana. She then picked up her cup of coffee and the can of honey roasted cashews and went towards where Santana was sitting still splayed across one of the chairs rather than sitting in it. She dropped the water bottle on Santana's stomach, causing the Latina, who had been staring at Brittany's legs in the skimpy pair of shorts she was wearing, to grunt and curse.

"Rachel, come sit with me," Brittany said, grabbing her upper arm and guiding her to the couch. "You look like you could use someone to snuggle with since you're all sad and stuff, and I don't think Quinn's going to because Santana made her all embarrassed. We can share my gummy bears. You can even have the red ones, if you want."

"Oh, um, thanks, Brittany," Rachel said, sitting down beside the taller cheerleader. "But I brought my own candy. I have some Fruit by the Foot and some Sour Patch Kids, and-"

"Rachel, no," Brittany said, looking sad. "If you buy them, then you're just contributing to their problem." Seeing the look on Rachel's face, Brittany added, "Sour Patch Kids are just gummy bears that turned to drugs. If you buy them, then you're saying that drugs are okay. Drugs are never okay, Rachel." The last part she added sternly, as if she needed to teach Rachel.

"No, it's… well," Rachel started. "The crystals aren't drugs. It's the sour. It's like…" She bit her lip, thinking, and the thing in Quinn's stomach did the fluttery thing again as she stared at that lip, so she decided to look away. "It's like magic pixie dust. You know, it's what makes them more special than regular gummy bears."

"But it's sour," Brittany said, confused. "I thought pixie dust would be sweeter."

"Not this kind of pixie dust," Rachel said. "They have the sour on the outside so you'll enjoy the sweet on the inside even more. That way, not everyone can get to the sweet, because not everyone is willing to go through the sour. It makes the person that eats them as special as they are, because they're willing to go through it with them."

"Like Santana," Brittany said, suddenly lighting up. All eyes were on her suddenly as she explained. "It's like the way Santana is sour on the outside but sweet on the inside, but not many people know it because they're not willing to get through all the sour. "

Santana was watching Brittany from where she lay across the chair. Brittany was smiling a huge smile at Rachel, who was looking a little confused. Quinn only had eyes for Rachel, though. That was really deep for a conversation about candy, but she should have known better. Brittany got people. It was what Rachel had said, though, that stuck with Quinn. '…because they're willing to go through it with them'. It's like she thought back at the grocery store. Rachel deserved someone willing to put in the work. Just like Sour Patch Kids, apparently.

"Can I have some of your Sour Patch Kids, Rachel?" Brittany asked, already going to get them from the bar. "I want to see if they're as delicious as Santana is." Quinn turned red and looked away while Santana choked on peanuts. Thankfully, Rachel either didn't seem to get the comment or was ignoring it completely.

"Sure," Rachel said, reaching out for Brittany's gummy bears. "We can trade."

"No," Brittany said, coming back with them and plopping down on the couch, right next to Rachel. "We can share. Because we're like gummy bears, y'know, without all the sour, but Quinn and Santana are like our Sour Patch Kids." They both put a few of each in their mouths and bit down, and the face that Rachel made said that it had to be a weird taste combination. Around a mouth full of gummies, Brittany added, "And since Quinn is your Sour Patch Kid, I think it'd be totally hot if you ate her, too, like I do with San sometimes." Unfortunately, Rachel got that one.

Apparently 'Christmas movie marathon' was something of a misnomer, Rachel realized. It was more like 'Christmas anything that could be played on Santana's oversized basement television'. Brittany had argued that since Rachel was new there that she should have first choice. Rachel tried to decline, especially after the look Santana shot her, but Brittany was adamant. As they called out choices to her, Rachel noticed that Brittany's eyes lit up when she said some South Park episode so she chose that one.

It was odd, being there with Brittany. She wasn't the cruel person that Santana was, and she wasn't Rachel's definitely-not-a-crush-sunken-ship that Quinn happened to be. She was just… nice. And they really did seem to get along… well, after that incredibly awkward moment that had Rachel blushing red and unable to look at Quinn for the next half hour. Rachel found she liked Brittany's child-like, innocent view of the world. It was easier than her own life, at least. So to make Brittany happy, she chose some episode of South Park that Brittany had suggested. She'd heard it was a crude cartoon, but, really, how bad could it be? It was called 'Woodland Critter Christmas'. It sounded fun.

It wasn't. It was horrifying. There was a blood orgy. A blood orgy. What kind of cartoon was this? After that, Rachel refused to pick anything else, and the three cheerleaders continued as they would have had Rachel not been there, which was basically to call out movie or television titles until all three of them could agree on one.

"What about 'Mickey's Christmas Carol'?"

"We just watched a cartoon, Britts."

"That wasn't a real cartoon. It was South Park."

"Still counts."

"'Black Christmas'?"

"Horror movie. Pass."

"'Santa's Slay'?"

"Also pass."

"It's funny."

"It's an hour and a half of Santa committing holiday themed murder."

"Like I said, funny."

"So not funny."

"Grunch."

"Are you quoting Victorious?"

"…no."

"How about 'It's a Wonderful Life'?"

"Veto."

"You only get one, Q. Are you sure?"

Rachel sat on the couch with her arms wrapped around her knees. Brittany had left her to sit on the coffee table in the middle of the couches and chairs and was flipping through a binder full of discs. She knew the story of the movie. A man tries to commit suicide but is stopped by an angel who shows him how life would have been worse for him never having been born. She was fairly certain that she couldn't sit through it without crying with it hitting so close to home. And she was already feeling weirdly quiet and withdrawn right now because of her meds. Or, at least she was blaming the meds instead of the fact that she was trying desperately not to think about ruining today for everyone there. She was sure she could. A breakdown, her crying somewhere in the corner while Quinn tried to get her to take a pill. She could ruin their tradition just by letting herself go off on some mental path of anxiety and craziness. So, instead of doing that, she was sitting there, arms wrapped around her knees, doing her best to keep it together so everyone wouldn't hate her.

Rachel looked up and locked eyes with Quinn and tried to smile, but it got stuck somewhere and wouldn't come out. Instead, what Rachel let out was more of a grimace, and Quinn said, "I'm sure. Definite veto." Dropping her voice, Quinn asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Rachel said, and this time the smile did make it up, even if just for a second. "Thanks." She hoped her eyes conveyed just how thankful she was that Quinn had used her one veto to help her. And she would do her best to keep it together for her.

They finally settled on 'Love, Actually' which wasn't a holiday movie strictly speaking, but it was set around Christmas, and that was apparently close enough for their rules.

About an hour into the movie, Quinn's phone rang. She glanced at the screen, then back at everyone in the basement, eyes landing on Rachel. "I really need to get this," she said apologetically. Santana had already hit the pause button on the remote, and Quinn was taking her phone and heading upstairs. Clearly it wasn't the type of phone call the others needed to hear. Just before the bend in the staircase, she looked back down and locked eyes with Rachel again, smiling before continuing up to the rest of the house. Rachel heard the door close behind her. She suddenly realized she was all alone with Santana and Brittany. At least Brittany was okay. She wasn't sure she could deal with Santana by-

"I have to go pee," Brittany announced to the rest of the room, hopping up from where she was sitting snuggled into Rachel. She followed the staircase Quinn had gone up, taking the steps two at a time, and Rachel could hear the door open and close again. And now I'm alone with Santana, she thought. Great.

They sat there in awkward silence for a minute, neither making eye contact with one another. The basement was dark where they had cut out the lights to watch the movie, and Rachel would have been fine leaving it that way. The dark was comforting and quiet. Santana seemed to disagree, though, as she cut on the lamp beside her chair.

After she had looked at everything in the room twice, Rachel's gaze eventually landed on Santana. The Latina was studying her, eyes scrunched and a thoughtful look on her face. It was the same look that she wore when helping Brittany come up with choreography for Glee. It was Santana's 'trying to figure something out' look. Eventually, she shook her head, and Rachel thought maybe she had given up trying to figure whatever it was out. Unfortunately, she was wrong. Why bother to try and figure something out when she could just ask.

"So… suicide? What's that like?"