A/N:
So I found time to re-read Chapter 5 and I realized that there are about 5000 typographic errors so I decided to edit some things.
Hehe.
Sorry for quite a long wait. Here's Chapter 5. It's a little bit longer than the last 2 chapters…
Chapter 5
"Quinn?" Rachel urges anxiously, carefully, to the still huddled-against-the-corner blonde. She doesn't bother to touch her this time. It hasn't been working for the past ten minutes. In contrast, it only serves to scare the shaken blonde all the more.
But Quinn is yet to take her head off her knees. She is yet to stop from shaking and whimpering in terror. The parts of her face that Rachel can see has turned red from all of her crying and she's wheezing a little along with her sobs. Also, a short contact with the skin earlier told her that Quinn's still very sick, and this wouldn't be of any help for her to get better.
Brittany has texted Rachel just a while ago to say how sorry she is for walking out and to ask Rachel to please take care of her friend Quinn. And Rachel's trying, but clearly, she's making a really awful job at it.
"Shhhh…It's alright, Quinn. You're OK. It's me, Rachel. Please? Look at me?" Rachel implores yet again, turning more desperate with each passing second and struggling a little to keep her voice as gentle as she can because she's too close to choking. "I'm really sorry about Santana. She was totally out of line. Don't believe any of what she said. None of this is your fault."
Quinn just sucks in another wheeze and Rachel winces along with it. Quinn shows no sign of believing her. Or hearing her at all.
"Quinn? Can you come back to me, please? I need to see my friend," she tries again.
She sees Quinn's body startle a little at that. She can't be sure what, but for the first time in the past ten minutes, something Rachel said had gotten through her. She almost breathes a sigh of relief if only she doesn't know that this isn't over yet. And now, with her hope slightly restored, she tries again. "Quinn? I need to see your eyes, please…"
The blonde shakes her head against her knees before sucking in another huge, pained breath. It isn't the kind of reaction that Rachel needs, but she still lets out a slightly-relieved breath because Quinn is starting to respond to her at least.
It's a start.
"Quinn? Please?"
Quinn shakes her head against her knees again, sobbing, then coughing a little. Rachel fears she might suffocate on her tears, and she panics a little more.
"I know you're scared. But please, it really hurts me to see you like this. It makes me sad. Please, look at me?"
Quinn whimpers audibly in guilt, making Rachel want to cry, too, as she watches Quinn closely. Then, extremely shakily, the blonde takes her eyes off her knees to comply with Rachel's request as much as she can. And when she finally does manage to look at Rachel, the other girl's chest is squeezed even worse. Nothing could have had prepared her for the amount of terror and torture and shame reflected in vulnerable hazel eyes. Quinn's lips are trembling uncontrollably as she looks at her.
"Oh, Quinn," she says, cupping Quinn's cheeks with both hands gently. "It's OK now…"
Shaking her head and sobbing, Quinn answers, "I don't w-want y-you sad, R-Rachel… I didn't m-mean to make you s-sad." She is choking on her own words helplessly.
"I know. I'm not sad anymore," she lies to calm the distressed girl down, moving to rub her back. She is definitely feeling so sad, but for Quinn and not because of Quinn. Her heart warms too, because Quinn, no matter how obviously terrified she is, has still gathered enough courage to try and stop Rachel from being 's trying to be brave not for herself, but for Rachel. "Please stop crying now," she adds, wiping at the tear-stained face gently.
Quinn blinks hard because her tears are rushing out so fast. "I di-didn't mean t-to make Santana angry, too. I didn't intend for you to f-fight. I only w-wanted to h-help. I only w-wanted to fi-fix the pl-plane. Pl-please believe m-me, Rachel."
"I know that, too, Quinn. And I believe you. Please stop worrying."
Quinn wouldn't calm down, though, and she's panting and sobbing when she tells Rachel: "I a-always screw up. I-I try hard n-not to, b-but I st-still do. I-I'm really so-sorry, Rachel."
"Shhh," she hushes her. "You're not screwing it all up."
"But I made y-you f-fight. I-I'm not wo-worth it. I-I'm just…I'm just ga-garbage."
Rachel's chest tightens even more. The things Quinn thinks about herself are just… Rachel's heart would break if she's not sure it hasn't for a hundred times today already. "Hey, don't say that. I never want to hear that from you again, do you understand me?"
There's no response. Just Quinn's empty, sad eyes staring back at her.
Sighing, Rachel tries again. "I told you kids at school are stupid. You're worth it, you just don't know how much. And us fighting isn't your fault, OK? It's my fault and Santana's. It's us who decided to fight. It has absolutely nothing to do with you."
Quinn just stares at Rachel for a while before her chin trembles yet again and she re-buries her face on her knees, not believing what Rachel just said and looking just as broken as ever.
"Stop crying, please? You did nothing wrong, I promise."
When there's no response, Rachel tries to play the sad-Rachel card again. "You don't want me sad, right?"
Quinn peeks a little at Rachel at that through her right eye and nods her head eagerly, sniffling.
Rachel, slightly relieved that it works again, does her best to meet that one eye. "Well, the only thing that makes me sad right now is the fact that you're sad, too. So don't blame yourself on this, and stop crying so I won't be sad anymore, OK?"
Quinn wheezes deeply and swallows, still sniffling a little. Rachel can tell that she's trying her best not to cry.
For her.
Her heart twisting yet again, she whispers, "I am not blaming you, and you are not to blame, OK?"
Rachel just keeps on watching Quinn carefully. And it takes a while for the blonde to respond but Rachel almost cries when she finally receives a shaky nod.
"That's right, Quinn," she says, smiling at the girl. "You're alright. So what do you say? Let's leave this floor now and have a little breakfast ala Berry?"
Quinn just looks at her, eyes still sad but a little confused, too. "Breakfast ala Berry?" she whispers.
"Uhuh," Rachel confirms. "The best breakfast in the whole world as prepared and judged by yours truly. With bacon as main ingredient. Are you game for that?"
Quinn nods her head shyly, eyes brightening a little. Rachel smiles and offers her hand to help Quinn stand, before leading her back to bed.
/
Rachel's phone rings at 2:30 in the afternoon, while she's in the middle of planning to change her shirt and watching some useless television show with Quinn. She wanted to distract the other girl because she kept getting lost in her head, staring blankly at the wall with that faraway look in her eyes since that early morning encounter with Santana, and TV is the most creative way her mind can think of after such a stressful night and day.
None of the shows at this time of day is of any interest to her and so she had asked Quinn earlier to choose what to watch. To her surprise, Quinn shyly refused to take the remote control because she doesn't know what to watch either. In fact, she has no idea what shows are airing on TV these days because she's not allowed to watch it at home – a fact that made Rachel cringe for a while because she couldn't imagine her own life without television.
But then it makes her smile for a while, too. No wonder Quinn is very innocent.
Lastly, it makes her heart ache more. Just thinking about it makes her realize how much of a lonely soul Quinn must be.
She looks at the phone's screen and almost slaps herself in the forehead immediately. She has been too preoccupied with Quinn since last night that she completely forgot about one Jesse St. James. Sighing because she knows she has no choice but to answer this, she pushes the remote towards Quinn's direction and excuses herself out of the room. Quinn, who has her awed eyes focused solely on the South American actors talking to each other in Spanish on the television with her mouth slightly open and her head tilted a little to the right, just nods at her and receives the remote absently.
The Cheerio presses the answer button once she's sure that she's out of earshot.
"Hey, Babe," Jesse's scratchy, suave voice says from the other line. "I missed you today. Where were you?"
"Hi, babe," she says, worrying her bottom lip and massaging her temple. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to advise you that I wouldn't be school beforehand. I'm at home. I have to stay for uhm…for things," she says, grimacing. She forgot to think about what to say to him.
"Oh. Are you OK? Are you sick or something? I know that school's so important to you so something really big must have come up," he says, although Rachel can't really tell if he's sincerely concerned. But Jesse has always been kind of stoic so she decides to just shrug it off.
"No, no. it's fine," she pacifies him. "Just some important stuff my dads need me to do."
"Oh. OK. Do you need my help? Should I go there? You know I'd cut class anytime for you."
Rachel almost rolls her eyes. Like that would happen. Jesse wouldn't go out of his way to help someone if he knows something would be taken from him in return. Even for his girlfriend. Especially if she knows that Jesse values education as much as Rachel does, and there's no way in hell he'd be missing class for her.
She sighs. Rachel has yet to see a believable testament of Jesse's love for her. Sure he's sweet most of the time, but she can practically feel his selfishness out of his skin some of the times they were together.
Or most of the time, if she's honest with herself.
But she loves Jesse, or so she thinks, and still has faith that he'll change. He's young, after all. They all are. Plus, he's the perfect one for her, and she knows that. They both have the same interests, especially in theater, and what better quality is there to have for a lover than that?
"No. I'm fine. It's not that challenging. And Santana and Brittany has been helping me, so really, there's no need."
"Are you sure," he asks, trying to sound concerned, but Rachel can practically feel his relief from the other line.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"I really miss you, though," Jesse says, quite sincerely this time, and Rachel has to smile at that. "Please come to school as soon as you can, OK?"
"Of course babe. I can't wait to see you, too," she answers. Fact is, for some curious reason, she doesn't miss him much today. At least not like the way she used to miss him every day.
She wonders why.
They talk a little about Broadway before Rachel hears the school bell ring in the background and Jesse hurriedly bids her goodbye.
She is about to put the phone in her pocket when it rings again, this time from an unfamiliar number. She stares at it for a while before deciding to pick up.
"Hello," she answers, forehead slightly scrunched.
"Hello? Is this Rachel Berry?"
It's a woman's, and the voice doesn't belong to someone she has talked to before. And yes, she's Rachel Berry, an expert at voices, so she would know.
"Speaking."
"Oh, that's good, then. This is Judy Fabray. Uhmm…Quinn's mom. Is my-is my daughter with you?"
Rachel clears her throat before speaking again. "Yes, she is," she answers, a little struck. It has been too long, she actually kind of forgot that they're even supposed to call at all. "We're at my house. I hope that's alright? I took the liberty of bringing her home with me because she was sick and no one was at your home last night."
Rachel hears the woman heave a sigh of relief. "It's totally fine, Sweetie. How is she? Can I talk to her?"
The brunette bends her back to sneak a peak at the open door of her bedroom and her mouth forms a gentle smile when she spies Quinn curiously reading the words on the remote control, forehead scrunching a little because she is without her glasses. The blonde then presses on a button and startles herself a little when the channel switches. After her initial shock, she continues pressing on the channel button, eyes focused a little more calmly on the TV as she silently chooses which show to watch, her facial expressions changing from channel to channel.
She just looks so adorable and she's obviously enjoying the TV so Rachel decides not to disturb her.
"She's kind of resting right now, so I don't think it would be wise for you to call her. She's OK now though, I already gave her food and the medicines that she needs."
"Oh, thank you so much. That would mean so much to her."
"It's no problem, Mrs. Fabray. I can give her a ride home if you want, it's totally OK with me."
Fact is, Rachel is a bit curious with how Quinn is at home. She wants to bring Quinn home for reasons. The 'no key' thing is still boggling her. Maybe if she meets both of her parents, she can deduce if it would be OK to leave Quinn alone with them. Besides, the extent of the effects of Quinn's bullying seems too much. It could be because she doesn't have a good support system at home; her parents seem like they don't care after all.
"No, don't bother, dear."
"Really, it's OK with me-"
"No, please. You really shouldn't," Judy insists. "You've already done so much. I'm going to fetch her. I'm actually set right now and I'll be leaving the house in no time."
Sighing, Rachel decides to relent. "OK, Mrs. Fabray. If you're sure. Do you know the way?"
"Yes, Sweetie. I'll be fine from here. Thank you for taking care of my baby," she whispers. "See you, Dear. Goodbye."
"Bye, Mrs. Fabray," she says before hearing a click from the other line.
Rachel walks back into her room, tripping twice along the very short way because she is doing so dazedly. She can't believe she just had a phone call with Judy Fabray. The call is made so late that it strikes her as so sudden.
She thinks back to their conversation and decides that Judy seems a bit OK. She seems genuinely worried. Maybe there's an explanation for the no key thing and the not informing Quinn of where they are.
Quinn doesn't even notice her when she comes back into the room because her eyes, now open wide and a lot brighter than earlier, are focused solely on the TV.
"Someone seems happy," Rachel remarks. "What are you watching?"
Quinn just shrugs and grins shyly at Rachel as she gestures at the TV show that's on. "There-there's animals. I-I don't know wh-what kind, though. I d-don't think I've read about th-them before," she tells Rachel, bouncing on the bed slightly. Her cheeks are flushed; she seems to be trying to contain her excitement a lot.
Of course, animals, Rachel thinks with a smile as she plops down on the bed to see what Quinn's watching.
It's Teletubbies. Rachel smiles and shakes her head as she looks at her companion who has her awed, now-happy eyes focused on the show again. She decides to watch the show with Quinn; she realizes she misses the four goofs anyway.
But she's faced with a dilemma, too. Like, how does someone explain to innocent Quinn that teletubbies are not animals without breaking her heart?
When Quinn makes a sad 'awwwww' sound at Po pretending to trip, she melts in a huge puddle of goo and decides just not to tell her. For now. Maybe Brittany can explain it to her in a more creative way.
Quinn is staring at Rachel worriedly, though, biting her lip a little.
"He's just pretending to trip, Quinn, don't worry," she tells her. "Just wait and he'll giggle."
And he sure did. Surprise, surprise. Giggling on the floor and patting his belly like the lunatic that he is and his brothers(?).
She hears Quinn exhale in relief and giggle slightly beside her. Rachel shakes her head again, because, really?
The show is cut then for a commercial break, breaking Quinn's fun. It's only then that she reluctantly takes her eyes off the other cartoon commercials on TV to look at Rachel again. "S-sorry I changed the ch-channel, Rachel," she whispers, regretful. Although she doesn't really sound sad. Maybe Teletubbies has this effect on Quinn.
"It's fine, Quinn. That's why I gave you the remote control."
"OK," Quinn answers simply. "Thank you, Rachel."
"Anyway, your mother called," she says. "She says she's coming to fetch you."
"Really?" Quinn looks at her, a hopeful, slightly happy look on her face. "She said she's going to get me?"
"Yes, Quinn," she answers. "And she seems really worried about you."
"She is?"
Rachel nods. "Yup. So you should really focus on getting well so she wouldn't worry anymore, alright?"
"OK, Rachel," Quinn answers, turning her smile to her lap shyly.
She watches Quinn fondly for a while before remembering something. She was planning to change her shirt before Jesse called.
"Oh, excuse me for a while," she tells Quinn before getting up and moving to her closet. She doesn't think of anything as she takes of her shirt and exchanges it with a thinner, more comfortable one.
When she turns around, Quinn is gaping at her, eyes wide and unreadable. Rachel wants to face plant somewhere hard.
"Oh, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Quinn. I was just used to changing with the other cheerios all the time, so…"
Quinn, shaken out of her stupor, blushes and hangs her head, "It's OK, Rachel. I should be the one who's sorry. For staring," Quinn says. She's red in the face. Like a tomato. But she's looking extremely sad, again, too. As if she has just thought about something.
"Don't worry about it, it's fine," she tells her, approaching the bed. "Are you OK?"
Quinn nods at her, smiling softly.
Rachel doesn't get to ask her more questions because Teletubbies is back on air and Quinn jumps to attention on the TV once more.
/
Judy Fabray nervously bites her lip as she waits for the door to open. Looking around the well-kept garden absently, all she can think about is that she wishes she isn't here. She wishes Quinn isn't here. Russell knows that their daughter is here because of Rachel Berry's voicemail. Quinn's going to get in so much trouble with her father again because of this later, that's for sure, and Judy's heart sinks when she thinks of this alone.
The door opening startles her somewhat and she is greeted by the sight of a short girl in red shirt and matching sweatpants. Her long brown hair is naturally hanging past a strong set of shoulders and her expressive chocolate brown eyes are staring at her both with curiosity and calculation.
Judy doesn't know anything about the youngest of the Berry's, except the horrible things that Russell says about the family. But she's seen the couple a few times, and she's pretty sure the family isn't half as bad as how Russell makes them look.
And definitely not this beautiful, young girl. She seems so smart.
"Hi. I'm Judy. Fabray. I don't believe we've personally met before, but thank you for bringing my baby here."
"It's nothing, Mrs. Fabray. Come in, please," Rachel says, stepping to the side to allow Judy entry. "I'm Rachel Berry. I'm a schoolmate of Quinn's," she blabbers as they saunter through the short walkway. "I found her having an asthma attack at school yesterday afternoon and helped get her to your house. But nobody's home when we arrived, so I decided to just bring her home."
"I really can't thank you enough for that, Sweetie."
They reach the living room, and Rachel prompts her guest to get comfortable. "Please sit down and feel at home. Do you want juice or any other refreshment?"
Judy plops quietly on the soft sofa, eyes roaming around. The Berry house sure is nice.
"I'm fine, please don't bother. You have a nice home, darling," she comments.
"Thank you. Quinn had the same remarks."
"Where is she, by the way?"
"She's upstairs, Mrs. Fabray. I let her borrow one of my larger shirts. She's just changing. She'll be down and ready to go home in no time."
They talk with platitudes for a while. But then, Rachel knows she has to tell Judy her observations. She can't let some things about Quinn go on like this for a while.
"Uhm. Mrs. Fabray?"
"What is it, dear? And please call me, Judy."
"Oh. OK, Judy. Well uhm… Please don't think of this as me meddling, but I think it would be better if you give Quinn her own keys. It's unsafe for her to not have one. If I didn't bring her home, she could have had slept outside all night in her condition. She seems too innocent to stay outside all night."
"Oh," Judy replies, a little startled. She likes how straightforward this girl is. "I'd keep that in mind, dear."
"And tell her if you're going out for a while so she could look for someplace to stay earlier if she has to. She didn't know you would be out last night."
"Certainly, dear. Thank you for taking care of my daughter once again."
"It was nothing, Judy. Your daughter is a very sweet girl."
"Yes, she is," Judy says, her eyes getting that sad and faraway look that Quinn gets sometimes. Before Rachel can question her about it, however, Quinn appears on top of the stairs, looking unsure and anxious.
Judy beckons her first, "Come here, Sweetie," she says, gesturing for Quinn to come down. She goes down the stairs with the same adorable shyness that seems to surround her all the while. Judy walks to meet her at the base of the stairs, moving to cup Quinn's flushed cheeks.
"Oh, dear. Let's go home, now?"
Quinn looks at her from long lashes, tired eyes looking extremely fearful. She knows Russell must be really angry again.
"It'd be OK, Quinn. Trust mama."
Quinn just nods sadly, a little unsure still.
"I already prepared Quinn's things. Here's her bag," Rachel says, taking Quinn's bag from a table.
Judy takes her eyes off her scared daughter before taking Quinn's bag and giving Rachel a thankful look. She's sweet and helpful, nothing like what Russell regards them. She's perceptive, too. She kind of sensed that Quinn's being maltreated.
She just doesn't know how much.
"Thank you, dear," Judy tells her.
"You're welcome."
/
Rachel has let Quinn borrow one of her rather too-large-for-her Cheerio's jackets, too, because both she and Judy can tell that she's cold even if she doesn't say it. The three of them are outside the Berry home now, bidding each other goodbye. Judy thanks Rachel again and backs a little to give her daughter time to say goodbye, too. She watches silently as Rachel opens her arms to give Quinn a farewell hug, to which Quinn shyly responds to, cheeks flushing deeply as she hugs Rachel back carefully.
Judy's heart fills with sorrow again. The last time she hugged Quinn was when she was six, maybe. So much has happened since then, and those hugs hardly count anymore. She knows she can't embrace her daughter now and not feel anything else but the bitter pang of remorse.
Rachel lets go of the hug first, smiling as she tame Quinn's wild blonde hair affectionately after. Judy watches with her stomach dropping as Quinn flinches a little before relaxing at the touch eventually, bowing her head shyly then.
"You rest well at home, OK," Rachel tells her. "Get better as soon as you can."
Quinn nods. "Y-you, too, Rachel," she says awkwardly, looking awfully unsure of what to say back. "You r-rest well here, too," she adds, grimacing a little because that didn't sound right at all.
Rachel giggles. "Don't let your parents worry too much, OK?"
Quinn nods, her eyes looking really sad once again. Shuffling her feet nervously, she adds, "Th-thank you for taking care of m-me, Rachel."
"It's nothing, Quinn. Pay me back by getting well, OK?"
"S-sure, Rachel," Quinn smiles softly.
"Let's go, honey," Judy urges, to which Rachel nods and Quinn bends her head. Judy gets in the car first, while Quinn hovers outside the car unsurely for a while, waiting anxiously for instructions. The younger blonde gets in the passenger seat when Judy beckons her to, closing the door very quietly as she does so. Judy knows that it's because Russell doesn't like it when she makes even the smallest of noises.
She starts the car. Through the glass, she sees Rachel give them one last wave. She smiles at Rachel gratefully while Quinn returns the wave shyly.
Judy sees Quinn watching Rachel's house forlornly as they go, only straightening her craning neck when the house is totally out of sight.
The next few minutes are silent. In those quiet moments, Judy realizes she has never really been alone with Quinn. Russell keeps a close watch on them most of the time, and for the first time in a long while, she actually has the chance to bond with her daughter. She glances at her daughter who has her eyes outside the window with a faraway look in her face and hands twisted nervously over her lap.
She looks really scared; not that Judy can blame her.
Maybe she should let Quinn eat first; her daughter deserves a treat. She needs it, if Judy really thinks about it. Who knows what would happen when they get home?
Her own heart fills with dread again at that and she slows down the car a little.
She turns to her daughter. "Do you want to eat first, Quinnie? I know a good restaurant down here."
Quinn automatically shakes her head and bites her lip slightly, all while not meeting her mother's eyes.
Judy regards her sadly. She should have expected Quinn's answer, and maybe she does, but it hurts her so much still. The guilt, that is. "I'm really kind of hungry, though. And I missed their foods. Come on, I'll drive us there."
Quinn shakes her head again, a lot more frantically this time. "I'm OK, m-mama. I'm n-not hungry. You know I sh-shouldn't eat," she answers.
"But I am hungry," Judy insists. "Come on, let's eat out. Don't worry, I won't tell your father," she promises.
"But h-he'll get mad if we t-take t-time."
"I'd tell him that we got a flat tire. I've got this, baby. Do you trust mommy?"
Quinn still seems entirely nervous and unsure but she nods her head anyway.
Sighing, Judy nods back.
/
The restaurant is slightly crowded when the two of them enter. Judy turns her eyes around, vigilant. Russell is both very powerful and very clever; he has eyes practically everywhere. And acquaintances. She doesn't want to put Quinn in a worse position, which is a very possible thing should somebody they know spots them and accidentally lets it slip to Russell.
But seeing that the coast is clear, she turns to her daughter then, who is silently standing beside her, feet shuffling slightly, head bent, looking small and lost and nervous among the crowds. She knows her daughter has never really eaten out before. She's not used to crowds. She wonders how she's doing at school.
She knows she can't dwell on that, though. She takes Quinn's hand and leads her to one of the most secluded tables (again, she can't risk anyone seeing them). Quinn seems fine with their place, though, and she even seems to relax a little at their slightly secluded area.
A young waitress approaches their table once they are seated. She hands both of them menu sheets. Judy reads on hers swiftly, glancing at her daughter for a while then. Quinn is reading the menu list, looking lost and unsure.
Judy gives the waitress her orders, and a desert for her and Quinn, then turns to her daughter. "Go on, Sweetie. Choose whatever you like."
Quinn seems nervous and unsure, though, and she fidgets a little on her seat.
The waitress comes to Quinn's aid. "Try our lasagna with garlic bread, it's the best kind," she suggests kindly. "Would you like that?"
Quinn looks at Judy who urges her to do whatever she wants. She nods shyly, not meeting the waitress' eyes. "Yes, please."
The waitress asks them for any more orders and leaves when Judy tells her that everything's fine.
"How was your day there, Baby? How was Rachel with you? Did everything go well," Judy asks when they're waiting for their order.
"Y-Yes, mama. It was OK. It was uhm… I did not make Rachel angry," Quinn explains, smiling at her lap. She seems slightly proud of herself. She looks at her mother, hazel eyes hopeful for the rare acknowledgement of a job well done, yet a little cautious, too, because she knows it might not come.
"That's – that's really good, then," Judy says, trying hard to smile and reassure her daughter that she did fine. But really, it's hard, because her heart is just being crushed again. It hurts, it really hurts seeing that Quinn has lived all her life being reminded of her faults (daily) that she has learned to base being OK to whether she has messed up or not.
To whether she got hurt or not.
She gives Quinn another awkward smile before keeping quiet again, because really, what do you say to your daughter after that.
The waitress comes back with their orders in no time. Judy nods at Quinn to start eating because she seems to shyly hesitate once more.
Quinn eats her food cautiously at first, Judy watching her discreetly. Her eyes practically brightens when the food touches her lip.
She likes it. It's obvious how much. Judy's heart clenches yet again. Quinn is so sweet and simple. She doesn't deserve everything she's subjected to at home.
She doesn't even realize that she's been staring at her daughter for quite a while. Quinn catches her watching her and she looks back at her mother openly, looking contented and thankful, mouth set in a small, closed smile. There are pricks of sweat on her forehead, definitely fever-induced. The moisture makes some of her golden baby hairs stick to her brow, to which Quinn seems completely oblivious to.
Judy's throat tightens again. Her sweet baby is so innocent, too.
Pushing down her tears, she smiles back at her daughter adoringly and reaches out to unstick the stray hairs. Quinn only flinches slightly at her touch. She knows Judy wouldn't hurt her. She never did all those years.
She doesn't deserve Quinn's trust and love though, all things considered, and she knows that.
"Keep eating, baby," she just urges, stroking her daughters cheek for a while. Quinn just grins at her and focuses on her foods again, oblivious to Judy's guilt.
The dessert arrives a few seconds after they both finished eating. It's a slice of chocolate cake, and Quinn starts looking at it longingly the instant the waitress places it on the table.
"Let's just share the cake. You can't eat too much chocolate because you're coughing," Judy tells her, taking both treaspoons and handing one to Quinn. Quinn is still looking at the cake longingly; really, it's like she's hypnotized.
Judy ended up giving Quinn at least three-fourths of the cake in the end. She can't help it. Quinn moaned at the first time and was smiling all throughout the dessert so she gave in.
When the waiter comes with the bill a few minutes later, Judy takes her wallet, and gets a few bills. She puts it inside the bill holder and hands it back to the waiter, mumbling a soft thanks and a 'keep the change as tip'. He has been gentle and polite at her daughter and she really appreciated it.
When she looks back at her daughter, though, her heart breaks again. Quinn is has her head down, staring sadly and nervously at her lap, looking terribly guilty.
Quinn is wary of her parents spending for her. Russell almost gives her nothing, but makes a big show of how much of a burden she is. Judy wonders how Quinn eats at school. The money Russell gives him when he's in his better moods wouldn't even be enough for a sandwich. Quinn has never been to a mall since Frannie's death. Most of Quinn's clothes are her elder sister's old ones. Quinn is just good taking so care of Fran's things so the clothes doesn't look too old.
"You know for a restaurant that serves really delicious food, this one's so cheap," she tells her, just to stop her from looking so sad. Quinn doesn't seem too convinced, though, as she continues to stare at her lap guiltily.
Judy sighs sadly, taking Quinn's hand. Sometimes, she thinks of escaping. She'd start by thinking how it would be if they're free of him. They'd probably be happier, that's for sure. Quinn's life wouldn't be hard anymore.
Sometimes she'd think of other things, too, although it'll always end the same – forming the realization that she can't.
They have practically nothing. No one. Judy has no real job and knows no job; she's only relying on Russell. She was an only child of two only-children, and both of her parents are gone. Russell has two siblings and a living father, but they're just as abusive as he is – probably even more – and Russell, who was much less of a devil then, left his family as soon as he married Judy and refused to keep in contact with them ever since. Judy has no idea where they are now, and she doesn't plan on associating to any of them either.
Also, she's let it on for so long. So long that it has turned to be the only kind of life they'd known. So long that they have no other way but trapped. She doesn't have enough courage and resources to escape, and even if she has them and they manage to get away, it wouldn't take long for Russell to find them again. Hurt Quinn more. He has the money, and the power and the connection.
And like what he said, she's nothing without him. And she's too much of a coward to try to escape and leave him.
Quinn wouldn't survive on her own, either. Her daughter is still so innocent. And fragile. And naïve. She knows nothing about surviving on the outside world because Russell practically locked her in all her life. She's sickly, too, and she can't…she just wouldn't survive.
They're just trapped.
"Let's go home, baby?" she asks Quinn, her voice hoarse.
They both don't know what home means anymore.
Quinn nods. She doesn't have to look her mother in the eye. Judy can feel her fear all the same.
/
Quinn clutches fearfully at the hem of Rachel's jacket when they get inside the garage. Her chest is thumping in fear now that they're home. Her heart has been beating rapidly since she rode mama's car, but now it's pounding so much louder. So hard that she can feel the thumping in her ears, too. She has never slept out before. Father must be really angry by now.
She wants to cry. He'll punish her for sure. Again. With the buckle of the belt at the very least. She knows she deserves to be punished for her sin, as usual – to be hurt – but she's afraid, too. It's not good getting hurt.
She shakily looks at her mother through her peripheral vision. Mama isn't looking at her now, she's just staring straight ahead, knuckles gripping the steering wheel tightly. She knows what's about to happen, too, and she's probably ashamed of Quinn for making a mistake yet again.
Her heart aches as she bows her head in embarrassment. She wants mama to hug her and stop her chest from hurting and tell her that father's not going to punish her, but she knows it's not going to happen. Because mother never hugs her and nothing's going to stop father from hurting her.
Father is sitting at the sofa, a glass of alcohol in hand and a scowl on his face when they walk in. Judy has to hold her hand and lead her inside because Quinn froze on the doorway. He looks really angry. Quinn feels her whole body go numb, which does nothing but highlight the pounding of her chest, her face paling terribly. Her trembling hands grip each other as she shakes so hard that her vision dims a little.
He welcomes her with: "So you still know where you live, huh?"
"I-I'm sorry, S-Sir."
He scoffs at her apology before asking. "And what took you so long?"
"The car acted up, Russell, so we had to pass by Burt's garage again," Judy answers. "It's OK now, he mended it."
He looks at Judy, reading her face. Thankfully, he seems to believe the lie.
He turns to a pale-faced Quinn again.
"It's funny. Because I have to work my ass off for worthless people that would forever be worthless anyway. No matter how much I spend. And what welcomes me when I get home? My stupid, good-for-nothing garbage of a daughter isn't here. Breaking the rules like the stupid sinner that she is. Every. Fucking. Time."
Quinn whimpers and hangs her head as her father looks at her with disgust.
"And oh, that's not all," Russell continues, placing her glass on the table angrily. The clank makes Quinn jump a little, fear gripping her entirely. Father's eyes are trained on his formerly held glass, a look of disgust on them. "Because I have to hear a voicemail. From one Rachel Berry. Daughter of faggots. Of sinners."
"It was OK, Russell… Rachel just let her sleep there. Her parents weren't even home," Judy tries to pacify him.
"I'm not talking to you, Judy! You don't know anything! Just shut your stupid mouth up and let me deal with this!"
"I'm s-sorry," Judy answers.
"Stupid woman," he remarks as he looks at Quinn again, who seems to shrink even more. "You know what abominations raise, huh, Trash? Fellow abominations. Those faggot's daughter is already showing how much of a stain she is in society. Who does she think she is, dragging you to their dirty home and exposing you to more sin? If I get hold of her I'll make sure to straighten her crooked mindset out."
Quinn's heart gets squeezed at that. Her breath hastens. She doesn't want father to hurt Rachel. She doesn't deserve to be hurt the way Quinn does. She's good and perfect.
"Please d-don't be m-mad at h-her, S-sir. She j-just wanted to h-help m-me," she replies shakily, trying hard to meet his eyes but can't. Her hands are twisted tightly in front of her, and her eyes are staring unfocused on a part of the floor. "P-please don't – please don't h-hurt h-her. S-she ju-just he-helped me-"
"Helped you?" Russell laughs shallowly, standing up. "Helped you," he mocks disbelievingly again, advancing. Quinn's breathing starts to quicken even more and she musters every ounce of courage that she has to stay where she is and not run away. "How many times do I have to tell you," he says, standing in front of her now, "that. You. Don't. Deserve. To. Be. Helped," he hisses, punctuating every word with a harsh poke of his pointing finger on Quinn's temple. Quinn's head helplessly lolls back and forth with his attacks. The last one is stronger than the others, making her lose her balance a little, sending her one step back. Her tears are falling down her cheeks steadily now.
"I-I'm s-sorry, S-Sir. I-I'll try to r-remember n-next time," she pleads, panting, chin trembling in fear.
He grabs a handful of her hair from the back of her head and Quinn whimpers. "Like you will ever remember, idiot! That head of yours is fucking empty! Which makes me wonder: It has too much space, why can't you fill it in with something?!"
Quinn feels her chest grow heavier. She really hates herself for being stupid. "I'm r-really s-sorry S-Sir…"
"Yes you will be."
Russell takes his hand from her hair to roughly grab her by the forearm instead, his fingers plowing painfully into her skin. He shakes her for a while before kneeing her suddenly, so hard that his kneebone digs deeply into her bruised stomach and she splutters and coughs and keels over at the excruciating pain. Russell's tight hold keeps her from falling on the floor, though, leaving her body partly suspended in an awkward position.
"Russell, please… Th-that's enough."
It seems as if Judy didn't even speak as Russell knees her yet again.
Quinn starts coughing uncontrollably, her free hand gingerly wrapping around her midsection. Russell shoves her to the floor and she immediately curls into fetal position, protecting her battered abdomen.
"I've got this, Judy. Get out of here," he orders his wife.
"But Russell, I think it's-"
"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, JUDY," he bellows angrily, kicking the table.
Quinn's eyes go wide with fear as her father shouts. Her heart always hurts a lot every time he does that. But nothing could compare to the hurt she feels when her mother – the only help available – shuffles out of the living room in fear, unable to fight back.
She sobs. She's alone with father. There's no one to help her again.
Father kneels down next to Quinn's trembling body and shoves one of her hands forcefully towards the other direction so that Quinn is lying prone on the floor, her tender abdomen free for Russell's access. He holds both of Quinn's hands over her head with his left hand. Then, smirking evilly, he places his right palm over Quinn's deeply bruised stomach.
"You are going to regret ever defying me," he hisses, before pressing mercilessly onto the tender skin, making it linger. Quinn squirms from her place and purses her lips, screaming mutedly. It feels like her stomach is being lit on fire.
"Si-Sir, I'm s-sorry. I'm -please st-stop…I-it hurts," she sobs.
"Yeah?" he asks, smirking. Clearly, he's enjoying this. "Isn't that good? Because you deserve it, Garbage, don't ever forget that again," he taunts, face twisting in malice.
It's then that he presses his palm on Quinn's bruised stomach harder and the younger blonde squirms more desperately, whimpering, shaking in pain. She closes her eyes tight from the aching, tears of pain leaking from them.
He lets go about ten seconds later, but to Quinn, who's every bit of energy is drained, it felt like forever. She gasps and trembles on the floor, feeling numb and cold and hurt, so hurt, all at the same time.
"You have no right to complain about pain," he snarls at her. "That's all you deserve! You're fucking lucky that we're spending money for you, letting you live at all despite how fucking worthless you are! It's a shame you won't be dead for a while. Satan doesn't even want you, color me surprised."
Quinn whimpers. She tries so hard not to let father's words hurt her, but they really do hurt a lot. Especially since they're all true. She's just a burden. Nothing more. If she dies, father would get less mad and mama would get less sad. But she isn't. She's still alive.
Sometimes, she doesn't want to wake up in the morning anymore. But she still does. Maybe God believes she deserves to be punished still. She hasn't been punished enough.
"STAND UP," Russell is yelling sternly, and although all Quinn wants to do is pass out, she does her best to comply.
She doesn't really want to hurt more.
Gritting her teeth, she uses every remaining strength she has left to try to stand. She's shaking so bad, too pained and weakened to do anything, and she ignores the excruciating, burning pain in her stomach as she struggles to bring herself on all fours.
She manages to do so, excruciatingly slowly, only for Russell to harshly kick her in the ribs before she can stand. She cries out as his foot rams into her side and her body meets the floor again.
She curls into herself once more, shaking uncontrollably. Everything hurts too much. She wishes father would stop.
Russell shows no sign of stopping as he yanks on her arm, forcing her to stand. Quinn's weak body is helplessly forced up. Her father doesn't even show a sign of sympathy on her pained wails as he practically drags her out of the living room. She's tripping a lot of times from the severe pain in her stomach and the disorientation and the rough way he's manhandling her.
Quinn sobs as her father leads her down the stairs. She knows where they're going.
"S-Sir, pl-please-"
"Shut up," he hisses, immediately silencing Quinn. She wants to plead more, but she knows it wouldn't do anything but make her more hurt. He's making her sleep in the basement again. She doesn't like it there. It's dark and cold and dusty and there are weird noises.
He pulls her by the hair as they enter the door and harshly slams her to the floor, to her usual area by the wall. There's a thin blanket there that was put there just for her, for nights like this.
He gives her another swift kick in the stomach before turning around to leave her.
Quinn curls into herself once he leaves. The door is banged, the lock is jarred, and the room is filled with darkness. Quinn is left there, hurt and scared and freezing, alone with her thoughts.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm sorry," she repeats because she knows there's no one else to blame but herself.
Her stomach hurts so bad but she tries her best to curl over herself and get warm and fall asleep.
She tries to imagine that she's still in Rachel's soft bed – sick but comfortable with a soft pillow under her head, Frankie in her chest and huddled under a fluffy animal blanket. It doesn't matter if she gets nightmares because there will be bacon and soup when she wakes up. Kind Brittany will be there to hug her. Nice Rachel will be there to ask her to eat and watch little animals on TV.
But it's not working, because she isn't there. She's in her reality because she's hurt again. Her reality is herself on the hard floor, her head resting on the cold tiles, with nothing to hug but herself despite the biting cold air.
She thinks of Rachel. And how different they are. In huge ways.
Because Rachel isn't a failure like her. Rachel doesn't make mistakes. And she has two dads, so the pressure was even higher.
But Rachel isn't being punished. Because she's good and nice and normal.
If only Rachel knows, she'll be disgusted with Quinn, too. If she sees her bruises and welts, she'll learn how wrong she was in taking care of her. She'll know how bad Quinn is; how undeserving she is of being loved, even by her parents. She probably wouldn't want to be friends with her anymore. Not even in Facebook.
But Quinn really wants to be friends with Rachel. And Brittany. So she shouldn't let them know. She doesn't want to lie, and lying makes her heart hurt and feel guilty, but she doesn't want to lose her friends more.
They can't know. They just can't.
With that thought in mind, she closes her eyes tight and tries to fall into a disturbed sleep.
/
Russell is snoring loudly when Judy tiptoes her way out of the room, a thick blanket draped over one hand and the basement's keys clutched nervously at her fingers. It's almost 12 midnight. It took a little longer than usual for Russell to sleep tonight – he didn't sleep at 10:30 like he always does.
Which makes Judy's heart drop a little more. Quinn must be really cold and hungry by now.
The keys slip out of her fingers as she sneaks out the door and she temporarily freezes in fear, watching Russell's form on the bed with wide, terrified eyes. He grumbles and shifts a little, but doesn't awake, snoring almost immediately again. Judy lets out a sigh of relief before closing the door silently behind her.
She's practically running down the stairs in no time, in an absolute hurry to get away from the master's bedroom and check on her baby. She passes by the kitchen first to grab a pack of frozen peas and some bread for Quinn.
Her hands are slightly shaking as she unbolts the padlock, desperately praying that Russell doesn't wake up and notice her absence all the while. She's so nervous that it takes her a few tries to open the lock and she slightly breathes out a sigh of relief when it clicks open, before hurriedly coming in and closing the door behind her.
"Quinn?" she whispers breathily as she walks into the dark room, letting her youngest recognize her voice. She knows that her daughter has this incessant fear of Russell sneaking in to punish her in the middle of the night.
Truth be told, a larger part of her wishes that Quinn is asleep though. It would be easier if Quinn's just asleep.
She isn't.
"M-mama?" Quinn's scared, shaky, weak voice answers from her spot on the floor. Judy can hear her fear-filled breathing. "Is th-that you, m-mama?"
"Yes, baby. Don't be scared. It's just me." Judy reassures her as she hurriedly fumbles for the switch. Light floods the room then, and her eyes automatically search for her daughter.
Quinn is curled over herself on her usual spot on the basement floor, shaking in cold and fear, and cradling her beaten stomach. Her face is dangerously pale and her lips are turning blue. She has her scared, agonized eyes looking at Judy anxiously. Only a thin sheet of cloth protects her from the cold floor but Judy knows she can't even sit up and protect herself from the cold in her condition.
She rushes to her daughter's side and covers her with the blanket, rolling Quinn slightly on both sides so she could wrap the cloth around her body and provide her daughter more protection from the cold floor. Quinn winces with every movement and Judy has to swallow hard to keep her tears at bay.
She helps her daughter place the frozen peas over her stomach then feeds her with the bread which Quinn eats eagerly. Once she's done eating, she helps her lie down to as comfortable as she can and watch over her a little. It hurts her heart that Quinn can't even look at her in the eye because of apparent shame.
It takes her a few moments of anguished watching before realizes that Quinn's breathing isn't right; she's wheezing slightly. It doesn't sound like her bad asthma attacks, but Judy's heart still pounds with the reminder that Quinn's health is fragile on top of this all.
"Where's your inhaler, honey?"
Quinn doesn't answer her question immediately. She shakes her head, tearing up. The amount of regret on her face is very, very palpable. "Is f-father still m-mad," she rasps out in a whisper instead, her chest starting to heave a little more. She has been beating herself up over the fact that she has made her father angry again, even more than the fact that she got hurt, Judy realizes. Just like every other time she's in this position.
Not for the first time, she wishes she could do anything to chase the demons out of her daughter's head.
And then she realizes how unfair this is – that Quinn couldn't even sleep because of wrongly-addressed guilt, while Russell is snoring on their bed, not even feeling a tiny bit of remorse for what he did.
"Shhh. Don't worry about that, please. It's OK," she tells her even if she knows it isn't. "Is your inhaler in your bag?"
Quinn nods, tears falling from her eyes again. "I'm s-sorry if I'm m-making you s-sad again, M-mama," she pants. "I'll d-do my b-best not to sc-screw up again. Pl-please d-don't hate me, too. Pl-please?"
Judy lets the tears fall this time. Looking at her daughter, who can't even look her straight in the eyes in unearned shame, kills her. Quinn doesn't have any idea that this isn't normal. That none of this is her fault. That this isn't what is happening in other homes.
That this isn't supposed to be happening in any home.
Quinn reads a lot, but books can only teach too much, after all. Love from parents is almost as much a fantasy to Quinn as Alice's mushrooms are.
"Shh… Stop thinking about that, Quinn. You're giving yourself asthma. You did nothing wrong, OK? I'll never hate you. Wait here while I get your inhaler. I'll be right back."
Quinn doesn't answer again, just her hazel eyes closing for a few moments, looking so sorrowful. Judy takes that as her cue to leave, proceeding to the living room where Quinn's bag laid forgotten.
She finds the inhaler in the front pocket. It's not the same one she brought Quinn a few weeks ago. This is new. Did Quinn ran out of her old one? How often is she getting asthma attacks?
Judy's heart fills with worry. She must be getting a lot if she managed to empty her inhaler in three or four weeks.
She hurries back to her daughter, and helps her with her medicine. She just stays with her daughter for a while, trying to calm her down when she notices her getting distressed, which is quite a lot. Quinn's eyes would tear up unstoppably at random times, and they never fail to break Judy's heart.
After a while, she decides she has to go back. She really doesn't want Russell to notice.
"I have to go leave, Quinn. You sleep as well as you can, OK," she says, patting her daughter in the forehead gently. She is about to stand up when Quinn takes her hand tightly. Judy can feel how much it's shaking.
"M-mama?" It is so close to a whimper and Judy's throat closes up.
"What is it, Quinnie?"
Quinn finally looks at her mother in the eyes shakily, blinking hard a few times to dispel the hot tears that won't stop from falling. Judy feels her own eyes heat up so bad; it hurts the most when she's looking at her daughter's deeply hurt, badly broken eyes.
Always.
"What is it, Baby," Judy urges softly, because Quinn seems to hesitate.
More tears fall from Quinn's eyes. Voice shaking, she whispers words that shatter Judy to the core. "D-don't leave me? Pl-please? St-stay with m-me?"
Judy swallows the lump in her throat as she squeezes Quinn's hand. She wants to, God she does, but she's not brave enough to do this. "Baby… You know I can't… Your father would be mad if he wakes up and finds me gone."
Quinn shakes her head again, her heartache overcoming her fear. All she wants is mama by her side. "P-please m-mama? I-I'm scared h-here. I p-promise I'll b-be g-good…"
"I'm really sorry, Baby…"
With that, she sorrowfully pries her hand off her daughter's and tries to ignore Quinn's anguished whimper when Judy stands up to leave. She concentrates to the thought that she'll be back again before 5 in the morning to get the blanket, before Russell wakes up and knows what she did, just to distract herself from listening to Quinn's silent, anguished sobs.
/
That was awful, I know. But it'll get better eventually, I promise.
Again, thanks for all the support.
Hope to see you on Chapter 6.