Author's Note: Hey, look! Another chapter! "Finally!" Hush, you. I've been distracted by getting back into World of Warcraft along with plotting some other stuff that I'm not sure will be posted or if it's just for my own amusement. This isn't an apology because I said I wasn't doing that any more. I love this story, but it isn't my entire life. I write because it makes me happy, when it makes me happy, but there are times when it doesn't, so I don't. I'm never giving up on it (hopefully), but there will be gaps between chapters sometimes. Hopefully not long ones, but I write as the muses command. *shrug*
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. Review if you feel like. I try and respond to all of them, longer reviews getting longer responses (unless I need to rant; some of you have seen that lol).
"If you're sure you don't mind letting me stay…" Quinn again asked Leroy in the Berrys' kitchen, making sure he didn't mind if she spent the night seeing as it was last minute. "I don't want to impose or anything. I just-"
"Don't trust Rachel," Leroy finished the sentence for her, irritatingly correct.
"It's not that I don't trust her," Quinn said after a moment of thought. "I just know how easy it would be for her to skip tomorrow. I know I would if I were her, even if for just another day's reprieve from having to go back to school."
"Like I said already, Quinn, it's fine," Leroy said. "Not that you particularly want to know this, but Hiram and I are sharing a bed again so our guest room is free. Just as long as your mother doesn't have a problem with it."
"No, she understands," Quinn said. "She was worried when I first started hanging out with Rachel, but she's fine now."
"She had a problem with you spending time over here?" Leroy asked cautiously. "Because of Hiram and I?"
"No, she was surprisingly okay with you two being gay," Quinn said. "It was Rachel she had a problem with."
"'Surprisingly okay'?"
"You know of my father even if you've never had the displeasure of meeting him," Quinn explained. "Not the most considerate type when it comes to gay people. Considering she was married to him for nearly thirty years, I was amazed to find out she doesn't really have a problem with gay people. So, yes, I'm going to stick with 'surprisingly okay'. Her concern was Rachel. Or, my attachment to her, I guess."
"How so?" Leroy asked, clearly wanting to ask other questions that her words were implying.
"Well, how would you feel if the roles were reversed?" Quinn asked. "If I were the one that was suicidal and Rachel was the one that felt responsible for it. Not just responsible for causing it but also for making sure I got better? If I were to try again and actually succeed next time? It would tear her apart, make her feel like a failure. I guess my mom doesn't want me shouldering that kind of responsibility."
"Quinn, Hiram and I don't want you shouldering that responsibility either," Leroy said. "It's not your fault that Rachel tried to kill herself. You know that, right?"
She stood, looking at him for a moment. "I know." Quinn sighed, shaking her head. "On some level I really do know that, I promise. But it doesn't stop how I feel. Doesn't stop that responsibility from being there." She paused and looked at him for another long moment. "And don't tell me I'm the only one that feels that way. That you and Hiram don't think the same thing."
"Hiram, no," Leroy said. "I think he truly understands that this was a tragic decision, but one that was ultimately Rachel's. Me, though…? I've been having nightmares for the last two weeks. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is that bathtub with her blood stains in it. Or the one upstairs that I had to clean up. The one where she actually intended to do it. Imagining her lying there." Leroy shivered at the thought.
"You should try having them with the actual memory to go by," Quinn said. "It's worse." When Leroy looked questioningly at her, she added, "Last two weeks, too. Every night."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she said. "It's my cross to bear… among other things."
"Still, if you find you need someone to talk to," Leroy said. "Someone to… commiserate with, maybe, I'm here."
"Thanks, Leroy," Quinn said, smiling. He returned it, and they stood that way for a moment, feeling kindred to one another. She likened it to fellow soldiers commiserating about a shared war, if not the same battles.
After some predetermined amount of time, Leroy broke the shared look and said, "Okay. That's about as maudlin as I want to get for one night." It brought a laugh from Quinn, something she didn't think she could do when entrenched so deep in thoughts of Rachel's attempt. Maybe Leroy wasn't so bad after all. "Rachel's just upstairs in her room. Getting ready for school tomorrow, last I checked. H should be home in a bit, and afterwards, we're getting dinner started. You're in luck tonight, young Miss Fabray. H is cooking his famous spicy barbecue chickpea burgers which are much better than they actually sound. I'm not as big on the whole 'veggies only' thing as H and Ray are, so when they find something I actually like you know they've done well."
"I'm looking forward to it," Quinn laughed. "Just not too spicy, I hope. I tried some of Rachel's spicy peanut pad Thai, and it nearly killed me. I don't know what it is. Before the baby, I was okay with spicy foods, but ever since I've been such a wimp about it."
"No, they're not too bad," Leroy reassured her, patting her arm. "Now go say hey to Rachel before she thinks you don't like her."
Quinn made her way upstairs, stopping just outside Rachel's doorway and looking in at her. Her little pink rolling backpack was on the bed, opened wide where she had clearly been placing things in it. New notebooks, pens, pencils, a graphing calculator. It was cute how she- at least the academic side of her- was really, truly excited for school tomorrow. Reading, taking notes, learning. She was like a first grader. It was adorable.
Watching Rachel sitting in her window seat staring out through the front window, backpack forgotten, Quinn couldn't help but think about what the other side of Rachel must be feeling. Terror, maybe? She had to walk back into that school, the place that helped beat her, and face all the people that by now knew she had tried to take her own life. Knew that she was broken, depressed, possibly still suicidal. She had to go back in and face them and listen to them rubbing it in her face. Well, no, fuck that last part. She'd destroy anyone that tried to hurt Rachel.
This invariably led Quinn back to thoughts of Cheerios practice on Friday and Christy Gunderson. Christy Gunderson flirting with Rachel. How dare she? And in front of Quinn, too? That was just… unacceptable. And Santana? What the hell was she doing pushing Rachel and Christy together? Okay, so it had made Quinn snap a little. So what? And, yes, okay, maybe she had pushed the girls a little harder today after seeing Christy again smiling and being all friendly with Santana, no doubt talking about how much she liked Rachel. Her Rachel! Uh… that was… her friend, Rachel. Her friend. Just her friend.
Quinn had been in this angry mood all weekend, ever since that Cheerios practice on Friday. The rest of Friday had been Disney movies like she had predicted. Well, Disney and Pixar. There was only so many Disney princess musicals she could watch in a row before she started having flashbacks to conversations with her mother when she was a little girl. "Mommy, why is the princess always rescued by the prince?" "Mommy is there always a prince for every princess?" "Mommy, what if the princess doesn't want the prince?" Her mother had just laughed and patted her on the head, sending her on her way while taking another drink.
Friday night, after dropping Rachel back off at home and coming back to her house, Quinn had gotten ready for Puck's idiotic New Year's Eve party. She hadn't drank at it as per her usual, but Sam had, and the drunker he got the handsier he got. Not that she minded, really. She was his girlfriend after all. And she kept letting him get farther and farther, riskier and riskier in the corner until finally she needed a breather and went outside.
Staring up at the stars, she couldn't help but wonder what Rachel was doing right then. If she was looking up at the same stars. Quinn wanted to be with her so much more than in there at this party with Sam… but that's what good Christians did, right? Well, borderline-good Christians, anyway. Straight Christians, definitely. So what if she had to fix her makeup and straighten her skewed sweater? So what if she thought his oversized paws felt too rough under her shirt? So what if he was too tall when they were dancing? Or if she nearly threw up in her mouth when he ground his… parts… up against her? He was her boyfriend. That's what mattered.
Quinn ended up staying outside so long that she missed the countdown. Missed kissing Sam at midnight. It was only when Santana wandered out to her did she remember that she was supposed to be in there with her boyfriend rather than outside missing Rachel. Quinn found him drunk, passed out on Puck's basement couch. She kissed him goodnight, and took his keys, driving herself back to her house. When he'd called her the next morning, apologizing and asking her to come pick him up, Quinn had said it wasn't that big of a deal. She wasn't mad. She'd have to actually care to be mad. As always, Quinn didn't tell him that last part.
That day and the next, Saturday and Sunday, the first days of the new year, she had nearly ignored Rachel. What a way to start a new year, right? Well, she ignored her as much as she could. Jogging Sunday morning, it was hard to actually ignore her, and Quinn had spoken to her there in the group, but they never found themselves alone together. Not like usual. Rachel would text her and Quinn would text her back, but it wasn't with the same urgency it had been. No, Quinn needed to get herself under control before she could be alone with Rachel again.
And now, after New Year's Eve with Sam, ignoring Rachel over the weekend, and another Cheerios practice on Monday that found her afterwards sitting with Coach Sue and Brittany for hours watching old videos and listening to the woman's droning stories… now, after all that, Quinn felt like she had a handle on herself. On her emotions, on her state of mind.
"Hey," Quinn said, knocking on the doorframe of the open doorway.
"Quinn," Rachel said excitedly, getting up and rushing over to her, hugging her so quickly that it took the cheerleader by surprise. Quinn wanted to melt into that hug and stay there forever. God, okay, so that was a 'no' on getting her emotions in check, then? Just fucking great.
Seeming to realize what she was doing, Rachel released her, offering an "I'm sorry" as she stepped back. "I shouldn't have done that."
"It's okay, really," Quinn said, offering up a smile that Rachel returned bashfully.
Her look went from self-conscious to confused, though. "What are you doing here?" she asked. It was then that she noted the overnight bag Quinn had on her shoulder. "You're spending the night? I thought you were going to pick me up for school tomorrow? Is that not still the plan?"
"It is, it is," Quinn said. "I just thought it might be fun to have a girl's night before school started tomorrow. No stress, just relaxing. Mani-pedis, maybe, if you want. Or we can watch some movies or some more Buffy. Read, talk… whatever you want to do."
Rachel looked at her dubiously for a moment. "Okay… And why are you really here?"
"What?" Quinn asked. "I can't just want to spend time with my friend?"
"No, you can," Rachel assured her. "And I'm glad you want to. You've seemed… off… this weekend. I was worried you were upset."
"What would I be upset about?" Quinn asked.
Rachel mumbled something that Quinn didn't understand at first. She stared at the brunette until she finally repeated herself. "About Christy." When Quinn still stared at her, Rachel continued. "I thought you might be upset that Christy was flirting with me and I was kind of flirting back, maybe? And then Santana said-"
"Well there's your first problem," Quinn said. "Never listen to Santana. She likes to stir up trouble for her own amusement."
"So you weren't acting jealous?" Rachel asked. "Because it seemed like you were. Like I was some kind of- of toy that you didn't want to share."
Oh. Okay, that explained that outburst. Quinn had wondered why Rachel had yelled that she wasn't Quinn's 'toy' at practice on Friday. "I don't think you're my toy, Rachel," Quinn said. "But you are my friend, and I'm protective of you. Especially with… everything. So, yeah, I may have judged Christy a little harshly, but I was just looking out for you. Missy is her sister, after all."
"She is," Rachel said. "But Christy seemed nice. Nothing like her sister. So maybe they're not alike. I mean, I don't have any siblings to compare it to, but you have a sister, right? You two aren't just alike, are you?"
"No," Quinn was quick to say. She and her sister were nothing alike, no matter how much Quinn had tried to emulate her. Frannie had been everything Quinn wanted to be growing up. Thin where she was fat. Popular where she was a loser. A cheerleader where she was a nerd. Loved and adored by her parents where Quinn was merely tolerated. It had taken a complete makeover, a drastic diet, and a nose job to become that person where it had come to Frannie so naturally. And while Frannie had gone off to college on a cheerleading scholarship and married her college sweetheart, Quinn was struggling with her plans for the future beyond 'Prom Queen' which was, oh yeah, something else Frannie had been. "We're nothing alike."
"So there you go," Rachel said. "Maybe Missy and Christy are like that."
"Maybe…" Quinn said warily, though she wasn't thinking about it in the way that Rachel was imagining. Quinn found herself suddenly wondering if Missy was so horrible because she was comparing herself to Christy like Quinn had done to Frannie for so long.
They ended up doing manicures and pedicures with Rachel's makeup, painting designs on each other's nails. Rachel went with a star motif, of course, yellow stars on a background of white, while Quinn went with a simpler French manicure with silver lined tips. They were having fun, laughing and talking, telling stupid little jokes and laughing at people at school, talking about movies and celebrities and whatever else Rachel wanted just to keep her mind off of the upcoming day. Quinn had never been big into celebrity gossip, but the way Rachel talked about it, like they were people at school who were breaking up or hooking up or secretly pregnant. It was fun. Underneath that, though, it was… not stressful, per se, but it was definitely a little… tense. A little awkward.
There were subjects they were dancing around. There was no mention of New Year's Eve, none of Sam, or even dating in general. Rachel didn't ask, and Quinn didn't offer anything. They also shied away from talking about Santana and Brittany in any kind of relationship capacity. Why talk about two girls who clearly liked each other with one cheating on her boyfriend to have sex with the other? She didn't want to tease Rachel with the impossibility of it nor did she want to tempt herself with it. There was enough temptation in front of her with Rachel leaning forward in her tank top or bending over in her yoga pants.
It wasn't just the topics that they dodged, but the actions, too. When Rachel looked at Quinn for a moment longer than necessary, Quinn now knew why. Rachel would then quickly look away, embarrassed. When Quinn put her hand playfully on Rachel's arm while telling her a story, she didn't miss the way Rachel slightly tensed under her touch.
They laughed and talked, but it just wasn't as easy as it had been, and Quinn was missing it. They were friends, right? Why couldn't she be treated the same as Santana and Brittany were? More importantly, why couldn't she treat Rachel the same as she treated the other girls? If she was truly going to get past these wrong feelings, she had to inure herself to being around Rachel. They needed to treat each other as they had before Thursday, before Rachel's confession. And that meant they needed to talk about what was going on. As much as Quinn hated talking about emotions, it was unfortunately necessary.
Finally, after dinner, when they were both back up in Rachel's bedroom did Quinn bring up the rainbow-striped elephant in the room.
"Rachel," she said from her spot leaning back on Rachel's bed, as the brunette was sitting at her desk, printing out her letters of resignation from her various clubs. "We need to talk."
Rachel spun in her chair to look at Quinn. "Okay," she said, smiling. Seeing the look on Quinn's face, though, the smile fell from hers. "Oh." After a pause, she added, "I think I know now how Finn felt every time I said that."
"It's nothing bad," Quinn said, trying to reassure her.
"That's what I would always follow up with," Rachel replied. "It always meant he had done something wrong that I needed to fix."
Quinn wanted to argue, to say that was horrible or manipulative, but… it was true. Finn had a lot of flaws, and someone needed to fix them. She had done her best when they dated, but it was difficult because she didn't really care about him. He was a tool used to be popular, an accessary for her status, and Quinn had wanted him more easily manipulated, not a better person.
Rachel, for everything else she might be, she was a good person… barring when she was jealous of someone or concerned for her future stardom, of course. Quinn knew she would never truly try to twist and change Finn like Quinn had. She was sure that whatever Rachel had done in an effort to change Finn had been for the best. To make him more considerate, more open-minded, smarter, cleaner, whatever.
"I'm not trying to change you," Quinn said. "Not really. I'm more like trying to… change you… back?"
Rachel stared at her, confused.
"Remember when we were at Santana's house last week watching movies?" Quinn asked, to which Rachel nodded. "And how we were cuddled up on the couch?" Again Rachel nodded, though she also blushed slightly. "And now, you tense up when I touch you and apologize for hugs."
"I didn't want to offend you," Rachel said. "Or make you uncomfortable." With a snarkier voice, she added, "Or, you know, 'try to seduce you by forcing my lesbian ways on you' as your church probably says."
"Rachel," Quinn said, sitting up on Rachel's bed and making the word more of a plea than anything else. "Don't be like that. I'm not offended or uncomfortable. And do you know how simple-minded I'd have to be to go gay just because you hugged me?"
"About as stupid as you'd have to be to think being gay is a choice," Rachel shot back.
"I thought we weren't talking about that?" Quinn asked.
"Sorry," Rachel said, momentarily quieted, spinning side to side in her desk chair. Then, "But it is stupid to think that. I mean, who would purposely make their lives harder by going against society and doing the difficult thing? If it were a choice, people would choose what was easiest for them, not what was most difficult."
"People drink all the time," Quinn argued, swinging her legs over the side of Rachel's bed to face her. "People get drunk and make bad decisions because they can't help themselves. They're addicted to alcohol. That doesn't mean drinking or not drinking isn't a choice. It's just something they have to fight against every day."
"You think I'm addicted to girls?" Rachel asked, giggling and causing Quinn to smile in return. Quinn knew that it was kind of stupid, but she was looking for a way to explain it. To explain herself. "You think I'm addicted to you?"
"I didn't say you were addicted to me," Quinn said. "But liking someone does release certain chemicals in the brain that can affect you. So it's possible that you're just addicted to lo… liking someone… and not really interested in me at all."
"Quinn…" Rachel said, smiling at her a little patronizingly. "Are you fishing for compliments? Because I've done that with my dads enough to know the signs. You don't have to fish. I'll just compliment you if you want me to."
"No!" Quinn shot out, reaching behind her to grab a pillow and throwing it at Rachel. Rachel grabbed it before it could hit her in the face, smiling and hugging it to her. "I'm just… I don't know… why do you even like me?"
"My heart never gave me a choice," Rachel said, shrugging, to which Quinn melted a little. "I wish it had. Liking you isn't exactly easy. Or smart. It was even worse when you were insulting me daily and having me slusheed."
"Rachel, I'm so sorry about that," Quinn said. "I wish I could take it all back or have it done to me or something."
"I would never wish that on you," Rachel said. "Or anyone for that matter. And I wasn't saying it to make you feel guilty or apologize again. I just wanted you to know that even then, when you were horrible to me, I still liked you. When I was with Finn or Jesse, there was a part of me that liked you. Even when you were eight months pregnant and feeling at your worst, I still thought you were amazing. I think there will always be a little part of me that wants to be with you."
God, this girl made life difficult. How could someone be that sweet? "Why?"
"I don't know," Rachel said, shaking her head. "I've been sitting in bed this weekend, watching Buffy and trying to figure it out."
"And what'd you come up with?"
"That I really don't know," Rachel said. "Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of reasons to like you. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. And I don't mean that as in 'prettiest girl in real life', either. I mean, movies, television, models, real life… everything. You're, like, the ideal girl."
Quinn knew just from how warm her face had suddenly gotten that she was probably blushing as hard as she ever had. "Stop, Rachel," she said, but couldn't keep from smiling as she ducked her head, embarrassed. "I'm not… I mean… I'm just…" Eventually she gave up and just said, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Rachel said, blushing also. They were quiet for a minute, purposely not looking at each before Rachel went on. "You're also popular, which I've always wanted to be. You're talented, which I'm attracted to. You're nice to people. Well, some people. Brittany, mostly. You're loyal to your friends… barring getting Santana knocked from the top of the pyramid, figuratively speaking. And most importantly, you're a fan of my singing." Again Quinn blushed at that. It had been embarrassing to say in the hospital, but it had helped, apparently more than Quinn had known. "But even with all of that, none of it is the reason I like you."
"Then why?"
"I don't know," Rachel said again. "I've just always felt this connection to you ever since that first slushee. All the times we fought, all the passion, the energy. The chemistry. Didn't you feel it too?"
"I did," Quinn admitted. "I just thought it was because I hated you."
"Maybe it was," Rachel said. "And maybe what I'm feeling now isn't so much lo… liking you… as it is just a deep connection. Maybe we're just supposed to be friends, and that's it."
They were each quiet for a minute, lost in their own thoughts before Quinn got back to what started this whole conversation in the first place. "So does that mean we can go back to how we were?"
"What?" Rachel asked, looking up, broken from her own thoughts.
"I don't want things to be weird between us," Quinn said. "I just want to go back to how they were before you told me that you like me. The way we were on the couch at Santana's or here. Being able to touch and hug and even cuddle without the tension."
"But you're not… you've never really seemed to be the affectionate type," Rachel said. "I thought you were just doing that stuff for me because you knew I was. Because, if you were, you don't have to anymore. I wouldn't want you to think I was taking advantage of your comforting me just so I could… I don't know. Feel you up, or something."
"I wasn't thinking that," Quinn said. "I… I guess I just like being affectionate with you." Rachel didn't say anything, just sat there staring at Quinn like she was trying to figure her out. Quinn gave her a moment, because she knew Rachel never would.
After a minute, though, Quinn stood from the bed. "Besides, if we're going to get you over this infatuation with me," Quinn said, smiling, "then we're going to have to have some exposure therapy." Holding her hands out to where Rachel still sat in the chair, she said, "Now. Come on." When Rachel didn't move, Quinn added, "I promise I won't bite."
Rachel reluctantly lifted her hands to Quinn and let herself be pulled out of the chair and into her arms. Quinn could feel that she was still tense at first, but after a minute she began calming down.
"See, not so bad, is it?" Quinn asked.
"Actually, I'm kind of having the opposite problem," Rachel said. "This is probably a bad time to say that this open door policy has left me unable to relieve certain… issues… of a… um… sexual nature."
"Okay!" Quinn said, immediately pulling back and talking way too fast. "Good talk. I'm just going to go downstairs and forget that I ever heard anything like that, and you can just… um… stay up here and do whatever it is you need to do to fix whatever you might be talking about, of which I have no idea. So… yeah." And she spun on her heel and left Rachel giggling at her back.
Rachel woke up to the sound of crying. She'd become used to waking up hearing it over the past couple of months. A couple of night per week she'd wake up crying from dreams of her mother abandoning her for another daughter, dreams of her fathers leaving each other and fighting over who had to take Rachel, dreams of Finn being so hurt by her cheating that he took to bullying and slushee-ing her. Recently it had been dreams of watching herself die in that bathtub. So waking to the sound of those half-moaned nighttime sobs was nothing new to her. In Rachel's half-asleep state, it took her wiping her eyes and nose a couple of times before she realized it wasn't her. That part was new.
Rachel rolled over and found Quinn in her bed sobbing. She was sure the blonde had gone to bed in Rachel's guest bedroom, but there she was, laying a foot away from her, shivering, with tears running down her face, eyes closed.
"Quinn?" Rachel called out quietly to her, not wanting to startle her though how that was possible with her having turned over completely she didn't know. There was no response from the blonde beside her so she tried a little louder. "Quinn." Still no response came forth. Was it possible she was still asleep?
"Quinn, wake up," Rachel whispered. She sat up beside the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder and shook lightly. "Come on, Quinn. It's just a dream. Wake up."
With one last startled, choked moan Quinn's eyes shot open, looking around wildly. Rachel feared for her safety for a second from the panicked look in her eyes, but it was quickly cast aside. As soon as Quinn's eyes locked onto Rachel's she threw herself into the brunette, clinging to her as the sobs finally took her and she broke down crying harder than Rachel would have thought possible.
She clung like Rachel was some teddy bear, her comfort. It was so unlike Quinn. Even the Quinn that had cried because of Finding Nemo, because of her father, had never come undone like this. Then it had been something that she needed to do, something that built up until it burst. Even through her tears she had talked about her dad, about hating him or not hating him. She had still been Quinn. This was unlike anything she'd seen yet from the often icy head cheerleader. This Quinn cried like a child. Cried like Rachel had been doing. Like the world was ending.
"I couldn't… couldn't get… get to you," Quinn choked out while Rachel tried shushing her. She made out the words "in time" and "too much blood" and "my fault" as she rubbed soothing circles into the blonde's back. She was so cold from where she had been laying on top of the blankets while Rachel had been snuggled underneath them so Rachel squeezed her tighter, hoping to transfer warmth as well as comfort.
Quinn cried for a long time there in Rachel's arms in the dark. So long that Rachel gave up looking at the clock. So long that she started to get a cramp in her arm from how Quinn held to her, how she pressed into Rachel's body, looking for safety or comfort or some other long denied soothing feeling. Whatever it was, Rachel offered it gladly, wanting to help in whatever way she could.
It was such a reversal of their usual dynamic that Rachel was almost, almost glad of it. She hated being the weak one, the broken one. If she could help Quinn in any small way as recompense for what the blonde had done for Rachel, especially since it seemed like these nightmares were of Rachel's making, she was glad to do it.
At some point after Quinn had exhausted her seemingly endless tide of tears, Rachel had drug them both underneath the blankets on her bed so they could go back to sleep. Quinn hadn't made any attempt to go back to her own bed (not that Rachel would have let her after such a Rachel Berry-worthy breakdown), and they lay there together, wrapped in each other. It was as much as Rachel could hope for, having a crush on a straight girl. Did she feel bad, nearly taking advantage of Quinn's nightmares to hold her crush while she slept? Somewhat. Whatever guilty feelings she might have felt were allayed as soon as her alarm went off three hours later, though.
As her morning wakeup song started ("Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba for right now because, except for the parts about alcohol, it really was rather inspirational), Rachel's eyes popped open, and she was instantly awake. She'd always been like that, instantly awake the moment her alarm went off. She wasn't as easy to wake when someone was trying to wake her (as her Christmas Day inappropriate snuggling of Quinn could attest to), but there was something about waking up to an alarm that got her going. As soon as it started playing the wakeup song of the week, she was usually bouncing out of bed and headed to her elliptical. Well, if she was able.
This morning, Rachel found herself restrained in the most pleasant of ways, pressed tightly against Quinn, the blonde's arms wrapped around her waist from behind. Not that she was complaining about being spooned by Quinn, not really. She just needed to start her day. And, okay, she needed to get out of that situation before she started enjoying herself too much. They were friends. Nothing more could happen.
"Jesus, Berry," Quinn mumbled, reaching behind her with one hand and angrily hitting at the alarm repeatedly until her hand landed on it, cutting it off. With her other arm, she kept a vise-grip around Rachel's midsection, pulling Rachel's backside snugly against her front. "Why… alarm… so early?" Or, at least that's all Rachel could make out as the blonde's voice was muffled and sleepy. It sounded like there might have been some swearing in there, too.
"I always get up this early," Rachel said quietly and calmly, not wanting to anger the blonde who was clearly not a morning person. "I have my elliptical to run on, followed by a shower, morning skin care, breakfast with Dad and Daddy followed by rechecking my homework which, granted this is the first day back and there's no homework so that one can be skipped as such, then-"
"Rachel," Quinn interrupted, face pressed somewhere between Rachel's hair and the pillow they were sharing. She moved the arm that lay curled around on top of Rachel to her face, mashing a finger over her lips. "Sshhh… Sleep now."
When Rachel tried to remove Quinn's finger from her face and argue her point that she really did need to get up and get moving along with her day, Quinn rose up from the pillow behind her, grumbling. "As much as I love your rants, especially first thing in the morning, SSHHHH…" The shush was so loud and forceful Rachel decided there was no harm in giving the blonde a few more minutes.
Rachel lay there enjoying the moment, the feeling of Quinn's strong arms around her, face pressed against her back. It wasn't the first time she'd been held by the blonde in bed. The sleepover at Santana's house, they'd woken up tangled together, and no matter what Quinn might have said, that had been her hand on Rachel's butt. Thankfully Quinn hadn't known about Rachel's feelings at the time, or that might have been an even more awkward morning.
Except this morning, it wasn't something Quinn was doing in her sleep but something she was choosing to do. She was choosing to lay there holding Rachel. There were no hands in awkward places this time, but still, it wasn't something that "just friends" did, right? Then again, Rachel wasn't exactly the expert on what friends did seeing as she'd never had any. And she had woken up at some point on Christmas morning being held like this by Brittany after Quinn had left. And also Quinn was still half-asleep. Everyone did unusual things during that period between awake and asleep, right? Once when she was little, before she'd started waking up to an alarm and her daddy had drug her out of bed and downstairs for school, she had poured orange juice all over her cereal because she hadn't differentiated between the cartons in her sleep deprived state.
On top of all that, Rachel was feeling bad about enjoying being held by Quinn. Well, as bad as she could when being held down against her will. She still felt like she was taking advantage of their friendship by liking this in a way that the other girl probably hadn't intended. At least, Rachel hoped it wasn't intended to turn her on. That would make things especially uncomfortable. While she'd been able to ease some of her sexual frustration last night in her bath as Quinn waited downstairs with her fathers- and how awkward was that, by the way? She hadn't been able to look Quinn in the eye for the rest of the night. Especially since she'd had to call Quinn back up before she could actually get in the bath and get… started… to help her bag up her braced arm. But even relieving said tensions didn't mean they couldn't build back up. And it wasn't right for Rachel to be thinking of Quinn in that capacity anyway. Especially now, as the nightmares that brought Quinn to her room in the first place were apparently the product of Rachel's suicide attempt.
"God, do you always think so loud?" Quinn asked as she pulled back from Rachel to roll onto her back.
"I'm… sorry?" Rachel attempted, rolling over to face Quinn who was looking up at the ceiling.
After a minute, Quinn said, "I'm not going to stop you again if you want to go ahead and get started on your morning routine. You're just really cuddly. And warm. And I was cold."
Rachel leaned over and touched the base of her bedside lamp to cut it on, brightening the room slightly. Moving from the bed, she went into the bathroom to change into her workout clothes, saying as she entered, "Well, I'm glad I could warm you up, then," to which Quinn just hummed an agreement.
When she came back out, Quinn was still lying there with her arms spread, either asleep or staring up at the ceiling Rachel couldn't tell. If she had to guess, she'd say asleep. Rachel stared for a moment, wanting nothing more than to go over there and ravage her. Seeing Quinn so spread out and comfortable in her bed was making those thoughts come back, and she hated it. She hated that she couldn't do anything about it. She hated Quinn a little for teasing her so early this morning, even if unintentionally. She hated her stupid self, her stupid feelings, her stupid heart for causing her to feel this way.
Hopping on her elliptical, Rachel bumped the resistance setting up a couple of notches so she could exorcise those thoughts from her head. Then, she mentally high-fived herself for the pun of exercise and exorcise because she was a dork sometimes, and even though she was trying to change so her new friends would continue to like her, she couldn't really change everything about herself. Not all at once, at least. Still, the pun made her grin.
"What are you smiling about?" Quinn asked, getting up from the bed. Rachel watched as her nightgown slid up, revealing pale thighs before Quinn could pull it back down. She hadn't really noticed in the darkness of the room during the middle of the night, but now with the lamp on and it brightening the room, she couldn't help but stare. It wasn't lingerie, but the blonde was still a sight that stopped Rachel mid stride. Thin straps that revealed bare, kissable shoulders. A neckline that, while not plunging, did show off the hint of cleavage. A hem that fell mid-thigh, showing off her legs. The barely visible panty line that crossed her hip…
"What?" Quinn eventually asked.
"I'm sorry," Rachel said, shutting her eyes and blushing as she started back on the elliptical. "I was just-"
"Staring?" Quinn asked, though there was a playfulness evident in her voice that was like a verbal smirk. "Totally my fault. I didn't realize you were going to be such a Puck about all this."
"I'm nothing like Noah!" Rachel said, offended. "But you try sharing your bed with someone as sexy as you are and see if you're not tempted to stare at yourself. I mean… Okay, that didn't come out right, but you know what I mean!"
"It's okay, mini-Puck," Quinn said, giggling. "You know, maybe it's a Jewish thing. Like I'm just Jewish catnip or something."
"Okay, first of all, don't call me 'mini-Puck'. That makes me sound like Noah's penis or something," Rachel said, eyes still closed as she worked out. She didn't want to chance staring at Quinn again and being made fun of even more. "Second, while you may be the beautiful shiksa in the room, remember that I'm not the one that found themselves in your bed. That was all you. So maybe you should reconsider who is catnip to who. Hmm?"
After a quiet moment, Quinn said, "You're right" in her serious voice. "I shouldn't have come in last night. I'm sorry."
"What? No. I didn't -" Rachel started, opening her eyes again, but Quinn was already closing the door to the bathroom. A few minutes later, she heard the shower start up. Great job, Rachel, she mentally chastised herself. Way to make things awkward.
After a brutal half-hour on the elliptical during which she berated herself for making things uncomfortable between herself and Quinn, Rachel stepped off and started going about her room, getting clothes to wear for the upcoming day at school. She'd just decided on an outfit that Santana had bought her before Christmas when Quinn stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in her cheerleading uniform and ready for school.
"I'm really sorry, Quinn," Rachel said once the blonde was fully out of the bathroom. "I shouldn't have said that. I just-"
"It's fine," Quinn said. "I was being a-"
"No, you weren't," Rachel said. "Whatever you think you were being, you weren't. I was. Not whatever you were going to say you were. Unless you were going to say you were staring. Which you weren't. I was. Staring, I mean." Rachel paused. Quinn looked at her quizzically. Rachel took a deep breath, then said, "What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry for staring at you this morning. It was rude, and I apologize."
"Seriously, it's fine," Quinn said. "I'm used to guys at school staring at me all the time. It's one of the curses of being a hot blonde seventeen year old, I guess." And she smiled, but to Rachel it looked more like a grimace.
"Still, I'm not the guys at school," Rachel said. "I'm not Noah. I'm your friend, and I should start acting like it."
"You are my friend," Quinn reiterated. "But you're also gay… bi… whatever. And you're clearly attracted to me. And unless you know of some way to suddenly stop being attracted to me, it's just something we're both going to get used to. Maybe you could talk to some of the guys in Glee and get some suggestions on how to be more subtle?" Quinn suggested, finally smiling an actual smile.
"Shut up," Rachel said, half-heartedly pushing Quinn who caught her arm and pulled her in for a hug. "No, Quinn! I'm all stinky and sweaty! Get off!"
"Nope," Quinn said, holding her tight. "Step one to getting over me is getting used to this. You're a physically affectionate person, right?"
"I am," Rachel admitted.
"Well you need to get used to hugging me so you can do it without needing to… you know."
"Masturbate?"
Quinn released Rachel, almost pushing her back. The brunette looked up to see Quinn was blushing a bright red. "God, can you not say that word?" Quinn asked harshly. Apparently this was a sore topic for the girl.
"Why not?" Rachel asked back curiously. "It's a perfectly natural process."
"For some people, maybe," Quinn mumbled.
"Wait," Rachel said, putting a hand on her hip and staring at Quinn while Quinn just stared at the floor. "Are you saying you've never masturbated? Not once?"
"No!" Quinn said, suddenly looking up with a scandalized look on her face. "It's a sin."
"How is that a sin?" Rachel asked, laughing at Quinn's seriousness.
"Because it is!" Quinn said, voice loud and angry. "God created sex to create life and to show love to our spouses. Ma… mastur… doing that is just selfish and not life-giving. So it's a sin."
Rachel's first thought was to argue with the blonde, to fight back. It seemed like everything that made some people happy was a sin to her. Being gay, masturbating… What was it like to grow up in that kind of culture, that kind of family, rather than the one Rachel had known? Her family wasn't perfect, far from it, but her father's loved her and respected her. They didn't explain God as a source of fear but a source of love. That was her relationship with God, as someone that loved her unconditionally. He was much like her own fathers in that way. Maybe, to Quinn, God was like Russell Fabray. A source of fear and constant disappointment in her if she didn't act a certain way. Rachel couldn't help but feel bad for her, and it killed whatever argument that had been forming on her lips.
"Wow…" Rachel said, staring at Quinn. "I can't tell if that's romantic or really sad. The part about showing love to your spouse is nice, I guess, but I can't imagine a God that wouldn't want you to do the things that make you happy… like loving who you want to or... loving yourself."
"I guess we just see God in different ways, then," Quinn said, also crossing her arms, voice icy.
"I guess." They stared at each other for a minute before Rachel turned, grabbing her clothes from where she'd lain them on her desk. "I'm going to take a shower. Dad and Daddy should be downstairs by now fixing breakfast if you want to join them."
Rachel was in the bathroom and putting her clothes down on the counter when Quinn called out, "Wait." She came in, defensive posture dropped, and said quietly, "Do you need any help with your brace?"
"Yes. Thank you." Rachel stayed quiet while Quinn put the plastic bag over Rachel's left hand and forearm, securing it at the elbow with medical tape. Quinn was slow about it, methodical, like she was afraid to mess it up. Maybe being so careful was Quinn's way of making peace from their mini-argument. If so, Rachel could do the same. "I'm sorry I laughed at you. Clearly doing… that… is something that's a serious issue with you. I apologize."
Quinn didn't say anything for a minute, and Rachel wasn't sure whether she was forgiven or not. "We always seem to be arguing or crying," Quinn finally said, finishing her taping job. Rachel felt that wasn't the end of that statement and kept her mouth shut as another silent minute passed. Then, "Do you think we can actually be friends?"
"Well, I know I'm not exactly light on the drama," Rachel said, half seriously, half joking. "And I know I'm hard to be around sometimes without you wanting to punch me."
"Rachel, it's not like-"
"No, it's okay," Rachel said. "I've been trying to change. Trying to be better and act more normal for you three."
"You… what?"
"Well, like, you know how I'm a know-it-all and a brownnoser and a suckup and pushy and bossy and how people generally hate me?" Rachel asked. "Well I've been trying not to be that way since you and Santana and Brittany said you'd be my friends. It's hard sometimes, and sometimes I screw up like just now, but I'm trying to, you know, be normal for you."
"Rachel… I…"
"It's okay," Rachel said. "You don't have to say anything. It's my fault. I'm just going to go take a shower now." As Rachel tried to leave, Quinn again pulled her in for another hug, holding her and squeezing her tight.
"Rachel," Quinn said, and she could hear the blonde sniffle a little as if she were crying, though why, Rachel couldn't guess. When she spoke again, she was sure that Quinn was crying. "I need to ask you to do something, and you have to do it, okay? Promise me, please. Promise me you'll do it."
"Quinn, what's wrong? Why are you-?"
"Just promise me, Rachel. Please?"
"Okay, Quinn, I promise," Rachel said, slightly panicked. "Just please don't cry."
She heard Quinn take a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I need you, when you go to Dr. Richards on Thursday, to tell him exactly what you just told me," Quinn said, sniffling again. "Word for word. Please. Tell me you'll do it."
"Okay, I'll do it," Rachel said. She tried to pull back, but Quinn just held her there. "I promise, Quinn. I'll do it. Word for word."
"Good," Quinn said, still clinging tightly to her. After a minute, she said, "We messed you up so bad, Rachel. Lied to you, tore you down, hurt you, broke you… until you started believing all the lies we told. God, I was so stupid. I am so stupid." She finally pulled back to where she could look at Rachel, look into her eyes. "I just… I wish I could make you see how beautiful and amazing you truly are. I wish you could see yourself how I see you. How I really see you. How I've always seen you."
"I… I don't…" She didn't know what to say.
Quinn shook her head, letting Rachel go. She wiped her cheeks with her hands and turned, walking out of the bathroom. When she spoke again, it was the HBIC, the Ice Quinn taking charge in an effort to get her emotions under control. "Take a shower, Rachel. I'm just going to fix my face then go downstairs and say good morning to your dads. I'll be back up in a few minutes. If you need anything before that, just yell." And she left Rachel there staring at the doorway, confused.
Rachel showered, pondering over Quinn's words, over Quinn in general. The blonde was so confusing. Since they'd met, Quinn had done nothing but show Rachel what everyone thought of her, what everyone she'd grown up with had already said. Sure, Quinn had a way of saying it that hurt more, that cut deeper, but it was nothing new, not really. And now she was doing the opposite? Trying to build her back up from the person she tore down? Why? It didn't make any sense. Had she really lied?
Rachel knew she was horrible. Knew that people rightfully hated her. All those things she'd said to Quinn were true. No one liked her. Her dads only loved her out of habit and responsibility. Santana and Quinn only liked her out of guilt. And Brittany just liked her because Brittany liked everyone. No one liked her for who she actually was. Even Christy was only attracted to her voice, the same thing the Glee Club had only liked her for. Her personality was atrocious, and so she was trying to change it for Quinn and Santana (as she figured Brittany would keep liking her no matter what).
But now Quinn was telling her she was 'beautiful' and 'amazing'? And that she'd 'always' thought of her that way? Why would she lie like that? What was the purpose? She didn't think it was another joke or prank or anything. Rachel actually thought Quinn would have been happy that Rachel had tried to change for her and her friends. They did fight a lot whenever Rachel was being herself. Maybe Quinn liked to fight, liked to argue? It was so confusing. Maybe discussing it with Dr. Richards would help after all.
Rachel got out of the shower, deciding to put all those thoughts away for now. She couldn't focus on that while she had other things to worry about. Today was her first day back to school after her suicide attempt, and by now everyone knew about it. Lima wasn't a big town after all, and a suicide, even just an attempt, was a rare occurrence. And Rachel was going to have to go back in there and face the people that had helped drive her to it. To say she was nervous was an understatement, but at least she had friends this time to help her. And if, somehow, those friends were actually doing this as a prank, she could always finish what she started.
After breakfast with her fathers and Quinn, Rachel found herself up in her bedroom, looking in the mirror. She liked the outfit Santana had picked out. Baggy off the shoulder beige sweater that folded over at the top with light blue jeans and some tan boots with faux-fur trim that matched the sweater. The best part was that the sleeves of the sweater were really wide so her brace wasn't as noticeable.
Reaching into the box Brittany gave her she began pulling on bracelets onto her unbraced wrist, starting with the friendship bracelet Brittany had given her. She ended up wearing nine different bracelets, but she liked the combination of colors. They made her happy. It was like having Brittany there with her.
Rachel went downstairs with bookbag in hand (she'd decided against the rolling pink one the night before as that was something old 'loser' Rachel would have done and she was trying to be cooler for her friends) to find her fathers cleaning the kitchen. They wished her a good first day back at school, kissed her and hugged her, then sent her to the living room to find Quinn. She found the girl asleep, sitting up on the couch with her head back. It was adorable. Rachel reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and snapped a quick picture.
The flash from the camera served to rouse Quinn, and she jerked up, mumbling, "I'm awake." She looked up and saw Rachel staring at her and smiling, and she couldn't help but smile herself. "I believe we talked about you staring, Miss Berry," Quinn said playfully. "Not very subtle."
"I wasn't staring, I was looking," Rachel countered. "And I don't need to stare at you. I took a picture."
"Of me sleeping?"
"Yep," Rachel said, stuffing the phone back into her bag. "I think there was even drool."
"I don't drool," Quinn said, self-consciously wiping at her mouth and causing Rachel to laugh. "Whatever. Are you ready to go?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Rachel said, gripping her bag tightly.
They said goodbye again to Rachel's dads and made their way to Quinn's car. As always, Quinn opened the door for Rachel, stowing her bag in the car and making sure she was in before closing the door and going around to her side. It was very chivalrous of Quinn and made Rachel like her just a little bit more, but she decided to keep that to herself. She knew Quinn was only doing it because Rachel was still injured, and she didn't want Quinn to stop just because Rachel melted when she did it.
After a couple of minutes of small talk, there was a moment of silence, and Rachel finally said, "So are we going to talk about last night?"
"What about it?" Quinn asked, keeping her eyes on the road. "I had fun, and my nails look awesome. You're really good at that, by the way."
"Thank you," Rachel said. "And I had fun, too, but I was talking more about how you came into my bedroom… which I'm guessing is because of the nightmares?
"I apologized already, Berry," Quinn said, tone going hard, but not yet cold. "I shouldn't have gone in there."
"I don't mind that part, Quinn," Rachel said. "I just… I hate that I'm giving you nightmares."
"Yeah, well, don't worry about it," Quinn said. "It's my issue to deal with. They're no big deal."
"You were sobbing in my arms in the middle of the night," Rachel said. "That seems like a big deal to me."
"Well it's not," Quinn said. In a move she had picked up from Dr. Richards, Rachel stayed silent, hoping Quinn would want to fill the void, and thankfully it worked. "They're just nightmares. I've been having them since… that night."
"You mean since my suicide attempt," Rachel said. "Since the night I tried to end my own life."
"God, be a little more morbid, Rachel," Quinn said, glancing over.
"I'm not being morbid, I'm being honest," Rachel countered. "I tried to kill myself a little over two weeks ago."
"I know," Quinn nearly shouted. "I was there."
"Then how come you never say it?" Rachel asked.
"What?"
"It's always 'that night' or 'what I did' or 'since then'," Rachel said. "You never say what I actually did."
"Why does it matter?" Quinn asked. "We both know what you did, okay? Saying it doesn't make it any different."
"No, but not saying it does," Rachel said. "It's like Voldemort. Not saying a name or a word gives it power. Dr. Richards taught me that. It's part of being honest with yourself, something he said I need to work on. And like Voldemort, not saying what I did just makes us more afraid of it. You need to acknowledge it, Quinn."
"I'm fine, Berry. Seriously," Quinn said, and this time her voice did have that icy tone that told her to drop it.
"Fine," Rachel said, crossing her arms. The rest of the drive went by in silence, punctuated only by an irritated Quinn punching the button to cut on the radio, going through every station, then cutting it back off. Non-morning people. Sheesh.
They arrived at the school and, suddenly, Rachel had the urge to run back home. To skip today and maybe try again tomo…. Oh. Okay. That's why Quinn had stayed the night. Why she had offered to drive her to school. So Rachel wouldn't skip today. Clever girl. Rachel actually smiled at the idea.
"What?" Quinn asked, staring at her.
"Just realizing that you're a good friend," Rachel said, facing Quinn. "Thank you for staying with me last night. I don't think I could have made it here today if you hadn't."
"It's the least I could do," Quinn said, returning the smile.
After a minute of just sitting there, looking around the filling parking lot, Rachel asked, "So are we getting out or…?"
"We're waiting on Brittany and Santana," Quinn said. Rachel looked out the windows again, thinking that somehow their names might have conjured them, but they were nowhere in sight. After another minute, Quinn went on, "So the plan is to have you spend all your time around us three while we're at school. I'll be picking you up for school every morning and driving you home in the afternoon. Well, most afternoons." Rachel was about to argue, but Quinn cut her off. "I've already talked it over with your dads, and they said it was fine. They even offered me gas money. On the days we have Cheerios practice, you'll stay there and read or do homework or something. On the days we have Glee practice or you have a doctor's appointment, Hiram is picking you up."
"Do I get a say in any of this?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms.
"Rachel, we're doing all this for you," Quinn said. "To keep you safe."
"I'm not the president," Rachel said. "I don't need secret service or anything."
"No, but do you want to get slusheed again?" Quinn countered. When Rachel didn't respond, Quinn said, "Better question. Do you want me getting expelled?"
"What?"
"Because I'm going after whoever slushees you," Quinn said, smiling. "And if I have to beat up some football player or hockey creep, it's on you."
"You're only slightly bigger than me, Quinn," Rachel said, but couldn't keep from grinning at the idea of Quinn beating up some jock-head. "They'd stomp you."
"I might be small, but you forget how scary I can be," Quinn said. "Santana and Brittany have a standing bet of when I'll snap and 'go all serial killer'." There was a sudden banging at one of the backseat windows, startling both girls. They turned to find Santana and Brittany on either side of the car. "Speaking of…"
Rachel and Quinn opened their doors, getting out to the sound of Santana asking "What up, bitches? It's a shame your car is so fucking small, Q. A little heat for this powwow would have been nice before going in and facing the sharks."
"I thought you were Hispanic, San," Brittany said, confused. "Not Native American."
"She is, sweetie," Quinn said. "It's just an expression."
"Oh. Like 'there's more than one way to skin a cat'? Because that's just horrible, and Lord Tubbington doesn't like to hear it."
"I don't like it either, Brittany," Rachel said, causing Brittany to go over and hug her. After a long hug, Brittany ended up holding Rachel from behind around the waist with the taller blonde's head on her shoulder.
"Yeah, Cap," Santana said. "This is a good plan. Anyone seeing even just a few minutes of the two lovebirds here will know Berry's off limits."
"Don't be jealous, San," Brittany said. "You'll always be my favorite for sweet lady kisses."
Santana shook her head. "Christmas break is over, mi patita," Santana said sadly from where she stood beside Quinn. "We're back in the real world, and it's just like Puck's New Year's Eve party. You're Artie's girlfriend. We have to put a stop to our lady kisses."
"But you said it was okay because you have girl parts and Artie has boy parts," Brittany said. "That I could be with both of you. I don't want to stop being with you."
"Yeah, well, I don't want to have Mrs. Kinsington for fourth period," Santana said. "We don't always get what we want."
Rachel couldn't see the pout she knew was there, but she could feel Brittany tighten her hold around her waist. She could see the way Quinn looked from Brittany to Santana, the way Santana looked away. Something had happened between them.
It was so stupid. They were clearly in love. Why couldn't they be together? Just because some people like Karofsky and Azimio had problems with gay people didn't mean it wasn't okay for them to be together. To love each other. They shouldn't have to hide who they were. They shouldn't have to settle for who they dated because the person they wanted was a girl. It wasn't right. It wasn't right, and Rachel felt the need to do something about it.
"Okay, I'm cold, and I'm going in whether I have to drag you bitches with me or not," Santana said. "Transformers, roll out."
"Nerd," Quinn coughed, earning her a punch to the shoulder while Brittany and Rachel watched the two, chuckling. They made their way through the parking lot which was, thankfully, mostly empty. Apparently it was too cold to stay outside, and the girls she was with were the only ones too stubborn to admit it. Rachel was amazed that they were able to withstand the cold with just their Cheerio uniforms and letterman jackets.
"I like your bracelets," Brittany said as she took Rachel's good hand and pulled her into the taller blonde's side.
"Thanks," Rachel said, leaning her head against her arm.
They reached the door to the school and stood there for a moment, looking in. "You ready for this?" Quinn asked.
"Not really," Rachel said. "I feel a little bit like throwing up." There was more silence as they all looked at Rachel. Finally, she said, "Let's just skip today."
"Amen," Santana called out, turning to walk back towards the parking lot.
"No," Quinn said, catching Santana's elbow and pulling her back. Turning to Rachel, she pulled her from Brittany's grasp and turned her to face Quinn. "No, Rachel. You can do this. I believe in you. We all do. You're better than them. Hell, you're better than us. Maybe not Brittany-"
"Thanks, Q!" Brittany said, smiling.
"-but definitely better than me and San. Definitely better than Santana."
This drew a smile from Rachel and a "Watch it, bitch" from Santana.
"You can do this." Quinn finished her pep talk, turning Rachel to again face the doors.
"I can do this." Rachel told herself, doing her best to believe Quinn's words. "I can do this. It's just school. I've sung in front of a thousand people. I can go in there and walk down the halls and just be at school. It's fine. I'm fine."
"And if anyone says anything, we destroy them," Santana said. "No one fucks with the Unholy Square."
"God, is that really what we're calling us?"