Chapter 6
A.N: Hey guys! I'm back.
I apologize for not updating as early as I promised. I only felt like writing 4-5 days ago. Some things are harder to hurdle than I thought. :(
Anyways, I want to thank you all for your encouraging words and prayers. And to my fellow Pinoys out there, thanks for the unceasing support. Andami niyo pala dito? Hehe. . Tama kayo, we'll be able to move on with each other's help, no matter how hard it seems.
Also, thanks to everyone who read the first five chapters.
I re-read chapter 5 again and realized that despite my corrections, there were still some mistakes I missed. So I am truly sorry for that.
Anyway, here's Chapter 6.
And just a heads up, a huge part of this would be about Frannie and Quinn, and will have one hell of a lot of flashbacks (in italics). Enjoy!
/
Frannie feels Quinn's grip on her hand tighten when a large man passes them by and she squeezes back comfortingly, watching Quinn's small, nervous form beside her. They're at the Lima Super Mall. She has decided to bring Quinn with her because their parents would be out for two days for their business meeting. Well, Russell's business meeting only, if she thinks about it. He's just dragged Judy along with him again.
The six-year-old's wary eyes are watching around fearfully, making Frannie sigh internally. She thinks bringing Quinn to the mall would be good for her sister. She doesn't remember Quinn ever coming out of their house, aside from going to the adjacent hill with Frannie every weekend. Russell never allows her to get out, and Frannie doesn't bring her out much because it was her younger sister who got yelled at when she brought her to the park once.
That day was fun, and her sister's reaction when she let her play in the swing for the first time was refreshingly priceless. She heard Quinn's loud, unguarded laugh for the first time when she pushed the swing forward, and she wishes she could have had heard it always.
But Quinn's precious laughter is seldom heard, and she has their father to thank for that.
Fran doesn't understand why Russell hates the youngest daughter too much. Frannie doesn't think there's anything wrong with her. Quinn is a really behaved little girl, perhaps way more behaved than kids her age normally are, even. She's not a whiner, and while other little kids would throw tantrums for toys and other things, Quinn would stay quiet and keep things to herself.
But then again, she has her father to thank for that, too.
Russell likes to shout at Quinn. He's verbally cruel towards her. Nothing she ever does is right in his eyes, and he makes sure Quinn knows that. He curses in front of her like he's talking to an annoying colleague instead of an innocent child.
And she can see how that is affecting her sister. Quinn has very low self-esteem and is extremely shy. She doesn't talk much. Well, she was quiet even as a toddler but the way Russell's been treating her does nothing but make her creep further towards her metaphorical shell. She thinks she's been doing everything wrongly and deserves every bad word that comes out of their father's mouth.
It wasn't always like that – Frannie remembers, when she was little, times when Russell truly loved Quinn. He'd treat her the same way he'd treat Frannie. Maybe even better. He'd urge everyone to be quiet when Quinn's sleeping, he'd smile at her with pride all the while, he'd hold her like she's the most fragile thing there is (and maybe she is).
But something changed, when Quinn turned three, maybe. It was when Russel started being cold at her. Frannie has no idea what gives, but it hurts her heart how badly things have changed.
She has called her father out on his actions once – when she caught him shaking Quinn's small body and calling her lots of derogatory things no child should ever hear – when she arrived home earlier because their last period teacher was sick. Quinn was crying quietly in terror, and Russell didn't seem to mind at all. Frannie had been really angry then. For the first time she shouted back at her father – the one who for so long has engraved in her head how important respect is, but is devoid of one – and threatened him that should he not stop treating Quinn like crap, she'd be leaving home and bringing her sister with her. Although it resulted into a very long fight, Russell ended up apologizing (albeit glumly) first and promised to treat Quinn better.
The 'even if she doesn't deserve it,' he added was grumbled, but Frannie and Quinn heard it all the same, and Frannie, not wanting to lengthen the confrontation, just hugged a shaken Quinn comfortingly then.
She had never really heard Russell saying mean things to her sister after that. He would shout at her from time to time, mostly about getting out, but that's that. But Frannie isn't convinced. Russell is a sneaky little b-tard, and who knows what he'd been doing to Quinn while Frannie's at school?
And with the way Quinn's behaving, it's obvious that he's been doing something to hurt her little sister behind her back. She has tried asking Quinn about it – but her younger sister is petrified of their father – and she'd always deny it, her face paling in fear all the time. She'd never force her to, because just a little pressuring from Frannie renders her sister a shaking mess – and she isn't really keen on giving her younger sister a reason to have an asthma attack.
So Frannie has been planning things silently for a while now, and taking Quinn away is the center of them.
Just two more years. She's determined. Then she'll be in college. She'll be getting out of Lima, and she's bringing Quinn along with her. She'll find a job. It's easier to find one in the city. Then rent a little apartment maybe. They can start again – just the two of them. In a place far away from here – far from their cruel father and backbone-less mother.
She'll shower Quinn with love and care. She'll show her little sister how wonderful being alive is. She'd do everything to take the shadow away from her eyes, make her understand her worth in the world.
If only she knows how much. And that's what Frannie's priority now – to let her.
/
"Do you know why hamburgers don't have ham," Frannie asks out-of-the-blue, as she watches the glorious piece of meat-in-a-bun in her hands. She's with Quinn at the food court, because she got tired of walking, and her food-alert eyes spotted glorious-looking burgers while strolling around. "Well, I don't think you know, too. But who cares, right? Hamburgers are like the most perfect creation. Who cares how they're made. They're made – and that's all that really matters to me."
Wow, she exclaims internally. She sounds like a food genius or something, even if she doesn't really know how hamburgers got their name.
She waits for Quinn to say something, albeit in the quiet Quinn way. The response she's waiting for doesn't come – and she painstakingly takes her eyes off her wonderful burger to take a glance at her sister.
Quinn isn't listening to her. At all. Or touching her own food. Her attention is solely focused on the next table, her shoulders drooping, her features terribly sad. Frowning, Frannie takes her eyes off her sister and follows her line of sight slowly.
Then her heart drops.
The next table is occupied by the Berrys. They're new in town, Frannie heard. The parents are the only openly gay couple right now in Lima, and although they are judged-to-their-faces by some, it's obvious to Frannie how happy they are.
Little Rachel is sitting between her fathers, obviously soaking in both of their attention. She is wearing a pink fluffy dress and clutching a golden trophy in her hands. Her short, high-stockinged legs are being swung contentedly, and her smile is really, really wide. Fran thinks she has never seen anyone smile that wide.
It appears that the youngest Berry has won at something. She can practically feel the pride oozing from both of her dads. And Rachel, too. One of her fathers has to spoon-feed her because she refuses to let go of her trophy.
"Dad, daddy, what time are we going to buy the yellow microphone?" Rachel asks, looking back-and-forth at her parents expectantly.
"In a little while, Sweetie," the curly-haired dad – Leroy – says.
"But you've been saying that since this morning," she whines impatiently, stubbornly squirming away from the spoonful of food one of her dads is offering her. The one feeding her just shrugs – like he's been so used to his daughter's attitude by now – and just eats the spoonful himself.
"Yup. But only because you've been asking that since morning."
Rachel stomps her foot even if it doesn't reach the ground. She seemed to have forgotten that she's sitting, and all it did was make the rear of her leg collide against the chair. "That's because I've been wanting it since this morning," she continues to whine as she absently rubs at the back of her leg.
"Uhuh. And we've also been hungry since this morning, thanks to your daddy's awful cooking, and we have to eat first," the dad with straight hair – Hiram – adds, chewing unashamedly.
"Hey, don't talk bad about me in front of our daughter. What happened to being good examples 'til death," Leroy protests.
Hiram groans. "Yeah, yeah, like she doesn't know about your awful cooking yet."
"You're both stalling," Rachel cuts in. "Don't make this about your relationship. It's about me and my microphone."
Frannie laughs internally at how adult-like the youngest Berry is. You'd think she's a grandma as opposed to a little kid when she speaks.
Leroy just rolls her eyes at Rachel's antics, too busy with his pasta.
"One day, when you grow up, you'll look back at this day and remember how wonderful it is that we've taught you about patience," Hiram says dramatically, shaking his head.
"Fine," Rachel concedes bitterly, sulking still. She crosses her arms in front of her chest.
Hiram sighs, visibly giving in to his daughter's pout. "OK. We'll buy it after this, kiddo."
Rachel's face changes so swiftly, that it would surely render Frannie speechless should she had been saying something. "Really?"
"Really."
"Yey! I love you dad!"
Hiram smirks. "I know. Now hug dad."
"No, hug daddy first," Leroy was quick to intercept playfully, wanting to be hugged first.
"Daddy."
"Dad."
"I was the one who held you first when you were a baby."
"Yeah. And he almost dropped you. Hug me first, it would be safer."
Rachel just beams at them. "You know what, I'll hug both of you at the same time!"
"That's a brilliant idea," Hiram feigns admiration. But he's smiling lovingly, and that's all that Fran needs to see to know that the youngest Berry is truly loved.
And then little Rachel is squished into a sweet hug – from both sides – and she giggles. The Berry men then looks at each other naughtily, before surprising her with a kiss from both sides, making Rachel squirm away with a 'yuck'.
Quinn just continues watching the interaction, looking utterly confused. And deeply hurt.
Fran sighs. This is one of the reasons why she wanted to take Quinn out – this what she wants her little sister to see. She wants Quinn to understand how fathers are supposed to be; how much they're supposed to care.
But this is also what she's hesitant of letting her little sister see. What she doesn't have. Or rather, what Russell is depriving her of. What she thinks she doesn't deserve. Quinn's longing, questioning, fragile heart is probably hurting so much more right now, and that's the last thing Frannie wants to happen.
She pokes her little sister playfully in the cheek. She likes doing that to her sister – Quinn always laughs every time she does that. It never gets old. Smiling sadly, she waits for her sister to look back at her, like she always does.
And she does. Quinn takes her longing eyes off the Berry family and looks up at her older sister, sad hazel eyes silently questioning.
Why? They're saying, and Frannie silently wishes she knows the answer, too.
Her chest is squeezed when Quinn tries to smile back at her but fails. Her lips swiftly turns into a shaky frown and she hangs her head, trying to hide her face.
Without a second thought, she pulls her little sister closer and gives her a one-armed hug. Kissing her in the head, she asks, "It's OK. Do you want to go to the Toy's Section?"
Quinn only nods, but even then, Frannie can hear her heartache so well.
/
Quinn seems to loosen a little when they arrive at the toy's section. Frannie watches with a small smile as her sister's eyes glaze over the many array of cute toys, and her steps get a little bounce of excitement.
She stays by Fran's side, though, holding her hand tight, and Frannie can tell that she's trying really hard not to run around with the way she's twisting her feet again.
For the nth time that day, Fran wishes Quinn would learn to act like a regular kid.
"Do you want a toy, Quinn," she asks her little sister kindly, bending over a little as she tries to meet Quinn's eyes.
Quinn looks up at her sister, although she's focusing more on Frannie's nose. She smiles with closed lips and shakes her head.
Frannie suppresses a sigh. This is another of Russell's damages. Quinn doesn't express things that she wants and needs because a little sign of neediness from her earns her a day's worth of punishment.
"You can look around first, then tell me if you want something, OK?"
Quinn bites her lower lip unsurely. "O-OK."
Fran smiles, then tries untangling her hands from Quinn's grip oh-so-discreetly. However, Quinn's grip tightens when she feels Fran trying to take her hand away. She looks up at her elder sister then, looking so unsure and worried.
"It's OK, Quinn. I just have to look for something. You can look around as well."
Quinn shakes her head. "We can look for it together," she reasons quietly.
Fran smiles. "Yes, we can. But I want you to look around for what you'd like on your own. It'll be OK. I'll just be around."
Quinn bites her lower lip as her eyes turn more worried, pleading silently.
"Trust me. I promise," she pledges sincerely.
Quinn still looked uncertain, but she lets Frannie let go anyway. Frannie walks away first, making sure Quinn doesn't stay where she is or follow Frannie instead by urging her to go to the other direction. Quinn gives her a small nod, and starts looking around.
Frannie rounds a corner of shelves so she'd be out of Quinn's sight and Quinn can hopefully get moving. But she's just actually using her detective skills, spying Quinn discreetly from whichever corner she can spy to see how her sister would behave.
Quinn looks around in absolute fear when she can't see Frannie anymore. For a moment, Frannie thinks Quinn would go look for her, but her heart swells with pride when Quinn swallows and braces herself instead, then quietly checks the toys in the shelves nearest to her.
Frannie pretends to be busy looking for some toys, but really, she's just observing what her little sister would do all the while. Quinn is just walking around the shop, longing eyes skimming through the hundreds of toys. She'd stop by and linger shyly at some displays, but she'd never touch them. She would also look around nervously at times, checking if Frannie's still there, and Frannie would show herself to Quinn for a while just to offer her sister reassurance.
Quinn seems to linger the most in a tray of cute little stuffed lambs, though, and Frannie makes a mental note to check it out later.
She gets distracted by the Pokemon collection for a few minutes – because who doesn't like Pokemon? – and when she looks for Quinn again, she sees her lingering at the tray of the lambs again, looking at them longingly. Frannie watches her little sister from her spot curiously.
The little blonde puts her hands in her back, then looks around discreetly, watching for anyone watching. Her feet are twisted in that nervous way of hers again. Frannie hides herself so Quinn would not catch her staring. When Quinn is certain that no one is looking, she bites her lower lip and offers the lambs a small, shy wave.
Shaking her head, Frannie smiles lovingly. Her sister is such a dork.
Quinn looks like she really wants to touch the toys desperately, and Fran wills her sister internally.
It's OK, Quinn. Just do it.
It takes a few moments before Quinn finally gives in, taking one of her hands from her back and patting one of the lambs in the head. An excited little gasp escapes her lips when as she touches the toy, and Frannie puts on a fond smile for Quinn's innocently happy expression.
Quinn lets her hand linger on the lamb's head, stroking it gently, smiling dorkily all the while. Frannie gets her analog camera from her bag and takes a picture of Quinn stealthily, knowing in her heart just how precious this moment is. She smiles at the picture. It's too cute beyond words. It's going to be an addition to her journal of memories.
"Yay! Thank you for completing my set of microphone daddies! Now I can sing even better! Well, I'm very good even without these microphones, but since I completed the collection, I'll be even better as what's said in the box!"
Frannie's attention is caught by that. The little Berry sure is loud. They're there as well, and Rachel is happily holding a box in her hands.
"Now what did we tell you about modesty, honey," Hiram asks.
"I don't remember," Rachel answers, happy still despite being scolded.
"Rachel?" he warns lightly.
"Geez, I was kidding. You said I should be modest all the time. But it's hard to be modest and to be honest at the same time."
Both Hiram and Leroy shake their head fondly. "We really should do something about this," Leroy tells his husband who only snorts in reply.
Frannie shakes her head at herself. The Berry family really is an interesting bunch.
"Why are you staring?" She hears Rachel suddenly say, and Frannie panics.
At first she thinks she got caught – but Rachel's been regarding someone else. She follows Rachel's line of sight and oh shoot. Apparently, Frannie wasn't the only Fabray staring and she watches with her heart faintly pounding as Rachel, in all her little glory, addresses a-deer-caught-in-the-headlights Quinn with a slightly stern expression.
"My daddies say it's not nice to stare. You're not being nice," she accuses curiously, walking towards Quinn now.
"Rachel, let the little girl be. She's not doing anything," Leroy says, putting a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "You're not behaving well at all," he scolds lightly before addressing the nervous little blonde in front of him. "It's fine sweetie," he tells her.
Quinn just watches all three of them fearfully, not being able to meet anyone of them in the eyes and visibly shrinking as she tries to desperately disappear against the trays of toys on her back .Her hands are being twisted in front of her and she looks like she's about to cry, so Frannie walks swiftly towards them.
The youngest Berry may be smart and adorable, but apparently, she's brutally honest and has no filter as well. And her fragile sister doesn't need brutally honest; she needs understanding.
"But she's staring. It's bad etiquette," Rachel says, addressing Quinn again. "It's a long word for good manners, if you don't understand. My daddies taught me that word," she adds. There's nothing malicious with the way she's saying the words, but Frannie knows her sister – she'll take it the worst way, and she really doesn't want that to happen.
"What's happening here," she asks, addressing nobody in particular as she stands next to her little sister. Quinn automatically hugs her leg tightly, trying to hide behind it.
"Allow me to apologize," Hiram speaks first. "It's just our little one here being a child. Sometimes she takes her etiquette lessons very seriously."
She nods at him before looking down at her distressed sister. "See, Quinn, it's OK," she says, patting her lightly on the shoulder. Quinn looks up at her, absolute guilt and fear making her eyes tear up and Frannie's heart drop, so she gathers Quinn up in her arms and lifts her to her chest. Her little sister quietly hugs her back and drops her face on her shoulder. She can feel her sleeves getting wet with Quinn's tears, and she rubs her back comfortingly.
"I hope we didn't make her feel bad," Hiram chimes in. "Rachel tends to be a little too talkative."
"Oh. It's Ok, really. Quinn's just very shy." And she can hear the very shy girl sniffling silently still so she hugs her a little tighter.
Both men nod at her. "Now, Rachel, apologize to Quinn. You shouldn't have done what you did," Hiram urges their daughter.
Rachel, though still looking a hell of a lot confused, heeds her father's advice anyway. "I'm sorry, Quinn," Rachel says sincerely. "Etiquettes are confusing. I promise it won't happen again."
Quinn takes her head off her sister's shoulder and looks at Frannie unsurely. Frannie nods at her, so she looks down at Rachel to answer. "I-it's OK. I-it's my f-fault," she whispers back.
"No. My fathers say it's not your fault so maybe it's really not," Rachel replies. "Let's just forget about it now."
Quinn nods at her, and Frannie, thinking it's OK, puts her down. Quinn stands in front of Rachel unsurely.
"Now give Quinn a hug," Leroy says. "For making her feel bad."
Rachel smiles toothily at Quinn and opens her arms. Quinn, although visibly shaken still, returns the hug shyly.
Rachel lets go first. "So we have to go and pay this. See you around, Quinn. Nice meeting you," she says smiling.
Quinn smiles back at her. "Nice m-meeting you t-too, Rachel. A-and your d-dads."
"It was nice meeting you as well," Leroy tells her, then looks down at his own daughter. "So let's go?"
Rachel nods resolutely. Both fathers acknowledge Frannie and Quinn with a nod as well before walking away with Rachel. Quinn follows them sadly, and Frannie notices. Sighing, she kneels down in front of her little sister, and wipes gently at the tear tracks. "It really breaks my heart when you're sad," she tells her. "Rachel and her dads said it's OK, so don't think about it anymore."
Quinn nods, rubbing at her dry eyes.
"Do you know who else doesn't want you sad," Frannie asks.
Quinn shakes her head, looking at her sister cluelessly.
Fran smiles sadly before saying, "This lamb." She raises the toy she oh-so-subtly took from the tray while Quinn's not looking.
Quinn's face turn concerned and she pats the little lamb in the head. "Don't worry, I'm not sad anymore, little lamb," she coos shyly.
Frannie smiles before looking at the lamb. "But the little lamb wants to make sure, so we're taking him home."
Quinn gasps at that. She looks at Frannie, wondrous disbelief written all over her face. "We're taking him home? With us?"
"Yup. And he says he wants to watch over you all the time, so he's yours from now on."
Gasping yet again, Quinn gapes at her. "Really?"
"Yep. And you have to take care of each other."
Frannie is unprepared for the tight hug that almost sends her toppling down on the floor, back-first.
"Thank you, Frannie. I promise to take care of him with all of my heart."
"You're always welcome, Quinn," she answers lovingly. "Always."
Quinn is smiling as they walk to the counter to pay for the lamb, and when they asked the girl in the counter if she could carry him around instead of wrap him up because Quinn doesn't want him to get hurt. She is smiling mostly while they roam around the mall some more and while they walk back towards Frannie's car. Even as they travel, not once does Quinn's smile falter while hugging the lamb to her chest. And her smile goes on as she sleeps next to her lamb for the first time in the evening.
Frannie lovingly kisses both Quinn and the lamb before she retires to her own room that night.
/
"OK," Fran says as she closes her copy of 'The Chronicles of Narnia: the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe'. They are at their hill, just as they are every weekend. It's the only time Russell allows Quinn to come out of the house. "That's it for now. Next chapter would be next week, OK?"
Quinn nods at her sister happily, smiling blithely.
Fran smiles back at her. She has read the book to her sister a few times, but Quinn still listens to her with the same amount of interest every time. She continues staring at her Quinn with a smile, warm but sad, internally wishing things were better for her sweet sister.
Quinn's smile falls. "You're looking at me weirdly," Quinn notes, a slightly worried expression slowly creeping up her face. "I-is something wrong? D-did I do s-something w-wrong?"
Frannie's heart breaks yet again. Quinn has this tendency to think that she's doing something wrong all the time. "No. No, you didn't," she pacifies her. "I just thought of something."
"What is it?" Quinn asks curiously.
"Well," Frannie starts, putting the book down. "I just realized how much you're like Lucy."
Quinn looks really surprised. Like that's the last thing she expects to hear from her sister. Her eyes are wide when she asks, "I-I am?"
"Yes, you are," Fran says, poking her little sister in the nose playfully. Quinn giggles softly and rubs absently at the dainty tip Fran just assaulted. "You're cute," she pinches Quinn in the cheek, "and brave," she pats her in the shoulder, "and so, so, so pure of heart," she ends as she places a hand against Quinn's chest.
Quinn's cheeks turn pink as she searches Fran's eyes with that same puzzled and slightly unbelieving but hopeful expression that tears Fran's chest all the time. "Really? You mean that?"
"Yes, I do," she seals. "You're my Little Lucy."
Quinn smiles at her toothily, hazel eyes bright. "Then you're my Susan!"
Fran tilts her head to the side. "And why is that?"
Quinn looks at Frannie with nothing but pride and genuineness in her eyes. "Because Lucy wants to be just like Susan, and I want to be just like you!"
"Like me?"
Quinn nods proudly. "Yes."
"Details, please."
"I want to be like you because you're beautiful and popular at school and…" Fran watches as Quinn hesitates.
"And?"
Quinn looks down at her lap.
"And what, Quinn? It's OK, tell me, please."
Quinn starts playing with her hands. Refusing to meet Frannie's eyes again, she whispers, "And not a m-mistake."
Frannie feels her stomach drop. It always does, when Quinn says things like that. "You're not a mistake."
"I don't know about that-"
"Do you think Lucy's a mistake?"
"No!" Quinn's answer is very fast and very convinced. "She's a good girl."
"Then you're not a mistake, too."
"B-but d-daddy-" Quinn starts speaking before her eyes go wide (as if she didn't mean to blurt it out), and she casts her eyes downwards again, breathing a little more rapidly.
Frannie can practically feel her blood boiling – Quinn just unknowingly confirmed that Russell's been continually saying demeaning things to her. "Don't believe anything daddy says. He's stupid."
"I-I'm – I said a m-mistake. D-daddy never s-says anything. I-"
Fran pacifies her sister. "Shhh. It's OK, Quinn," she tells her, rubbing her arms a little because Quinn's getting really worked up. She can see her small, thin hands shaking. With the amount of fear, Russell's probably been threatening her – who knows how – not to tell her older sister anything.
"I know he's been saying bad things to you," she says. Like she's suspected. "Don't be scared. I'd never tell him you almost told me."
"H-he just tells me w-what he k-knows."
"No," she says resolutely. "Come on, look at me."
Quinn looks at her with her terribly sad eyes, and Fran cups her sister's cheeks. "You're not a mistake," she says, sounding as true as she is, "and don't ever make anyone make you feel that you are, OK?"
Quinn doesn't answer immediately and she nods after a while, but Frannie can tell that she doesn't really believe her.
She sighs. "I don't think you'll grow up like me," she says gently.
Quinn's face fall at that and she bows her head once again as she plays with her fingers, looking utterly distraught.
"Hey," Fran says, gently touching Quinn's chin and tilting her head so she'd look at her. Her heart breaks when she notices the tears that are starting to form in her sorrowful hazel eyes. Quinn is too young to be in this much pain, and Fran vows to make her sister happy in whichever way she could. "Allow me to finish what I wanted to say. You're not going to be like me; you're going to be better. You're your own person, Quinn, don't ever forget that."
"No one can be better than you," Quinn answers honestly, but tearfully, too.
"You will be. I've never been surer of anything in my life. Some people will tell you you can't. But don't believe them. They don't know anything."
Quinn wipes at her cheeks shakily. "I j-just don't want to be a m-mistake anymore."
"You're not, OK?"
"I was b-born a mistake. E-everyone knows it. D-daddy says so."
"Why would that matter? You're like a burger."
Quinn's incredibly sad face turns confused at that, and she furrows her brows slightly as she stares back at her elder sister. She's so confused that Frannie thinks if Quinn just knows how to cuss, she'd be saying something along the lines of 'what the fuck' right now.
"I said this before, but you weren't listening, then," she starts. "I don't have any idea how burgers are made; or why they are called that. And I don't have to know. Because they're the most glorious things in the world, and who cares how they're made? They're made, and I can eat them anytime, and that's what really matters to me. Just like you. It doesn't matter how you're born. You're born, and you're here with me, and there's nothing more important than that. So don't listen to father's crap. He's too stupid to realize how lucky he should feel because he has you. OK?"
"H-hamburgers are named after Hamburg. It's a place in Germany. It's where it was invented," Quinn answers.
Fran is surprised. Quinn, sometimes. "Well that's not what I was going for, but, really?"
"Yes. I read it somewhere, I think."
"See, you're smart and not at all what dad says you are. Even I didn't know how hamburgers were named. So don't ever believe him, alright?"
Quinn only nods slightly, but she's smiling hopefully as well, so Frannie hopes it gets better from that.
/
Frannie really hates examinations; she doesn't understand their point. She can't even figure out why exams exist, can't see its importance. She learned a lot, alright. There's no need to rub it in everyone else's face right now.
Besides, exams could be evilly misleading. Examination scores would only make it harder for some to accept their future. There are lots and lots of high exam scorers who end up like slaves or something like that, it's a fact.
Really, there's no need to prove herself now. She can prove herself in the future. That's what's important.
Bleh. OK. Frannie just hates studying, but she knows she needs to because the stupid school requires that. She needs a distraction, just to forget that she has to study for a while.
"Frannie?"
Perfect.
She pretends to be studying diligently, focusing on her book once more. "I'm studying."
Quinn frowns, small feet moving forward hesitantly. "But you hate studying," she reasons.
"That doesn't make it OK for me not to."
"Can I disturb you?" Quinn asks unsurely. Frannie stops herself from answering so Quinn adds, "J-just for a while?"
"OK. Shoot."
The younger sister walks quietly towards Frannie's bed, and sits down with that gentle way only she can muster. "So I was talking to the lamb earlier," Quinn starts quietly, seriously, making Frannie smile. Of course, she'd talk to the lamb. "And I was…I was calling him lamb. And it doesn't really seem good because he already knows he's a lamb."
Frannie wants to snort. Really? "That's fine. He needs to know that he's a lamb."
Quinn bites her lip, starting to look a little unsure but manages to ignore her elder sister, anyway. "So… I was thinking maybe we should give him a name. And I thought I should ask you because you know more names."
Fran thinks that would actually be a good idea, but she continues on with her grumpy act. "Whatever. Just name him Excalibur or something badass like that."
Quinn moans in protest and hugs the lamb protectively to her chest, stroking his head soothingly like Fran's idea alone hurt the lamb. The angry little scowl on her face makes Fran want to laugh.
"No."
Frannie wants to roll her eyes. Lovingly so. Yeah. Protect the innocent little lamb from the mean namer. Like the lamb can feed her when the rest of the world is gone.
But then, her sweet little sister would rather starve than let the lamb get hurt and be taken away from her, and Frannie is more than certain of that.
"Why not?"
"He-He wouldn't like it." Fran almost smirks. Quinn always stutters when she's starting to get stressed.
"Why? I like it."
Quinn shakes her head. "It's-it's not nice. T-to hear."
Fran turns her eyes back to her book, feigning disinterest. "Lambino, then."
The little blonde just whines a little as she looks at the lamb sadly. "That's OK, I-I guess," she says, wincing. "But t-there could be better n-names.
"Just name her whatever you want. It was your idea, anyway," Frannie says dismissively.
Quinn watches Frannie carefully, playing with the lamb's ears nervously and trying to see if she's truly being just a bother. But Frannie doesn't notice because she continues her Oscars acting, staring absently at her stupid book. Only when Quinn starts to backtrack does she remember to not get her fragile heart so worked up.
"I'm s-sorry, Frannie. I di-didn't mean to bother you. L-let's just – let's just not name him. L-lamb is f-fine. I-it was a st-stupid idea. D-don't be m-mad," Quinn says, starting to look so, so small as she stares the door, preparing to get out.
"Hey, hey," Frannie calls out, throwing the book haphazardly and sitting up quickly to put an arm around Quinn, moving it up and down soothing. "You know I was just kidding. Of course that lamb needs a name."
Quinn looks at her sister, a little sadly still, then stares down at her lamb.
"You know what, let's just do what those love teams do on TV."
Quinn just stares back at her sister blankly. Of course, she wouldn't know what love teams do. She was never allowed to watch TV.
Fran explains for her. "Let's combine our names, then the combination we can come up with will be this lamb's name."
Quinn's eyes light up. "That would be cool," she says, a little less sad and more excited.
Frannie smiles down at her. They spent the next few minutes discussing names. In the end, they have decided to name him FranQuinn, but felt like too obvious and a little weird, so they shortened it to Frankie.
Quinn liked the name they came up with, so much that she kept on repeating it to FRANKIE as she hugs him, and kissed Frannie before she contentedly left to let her elder sister study.
/
Frannie rolls over to the other side again, trying desperately to fall asleep. Today has been such a tiring day, and she'd be forever thankful if her mind would stop conjuring up images of Freddie Kruger.
She's really going to kill Bryan for sharing a convincing story about the thriller star the whole day today, so right now the killer is all she can think about.
Then, tap, tap.
Frannies eyes go wide as her brain goes into overdrive. Shit. Bryan said Freddie can feel whoever's thinking about him, and can find them and kill them if he wants to.
Tap, tap.
Shit. Of course that could not be true, too, but what are the odds?
Fuck, Fuckity, shit, shit. Frannie is so done. The footsteps are getting closer now and Frannie wonders how she could get out of her room without being seen. Should she jump by the window? It's what's being done in the movies, so-
"Frannie?"
The voice she hears sounds small and scared, and not at all Freddie Krueger-y. In fact, it sounds exactly like her sister's.
She raises her head a little and sees Quinn hovering unsurely at the door, her right hand placed at the doorframe nervously and tightly holding Frankie's hand with her left. There are tear tracks on her cheeks, and she's sniffling a little as she looks at her sister anxiously.
The sight is enough to wake Frannie up, forget about her friend Freddie and make her scramble into a sitting position.
"Hey? What's wrong, Munchkin? Come here," she urges, opening her arms invitingly.
Not hesitating a bit, Quinn quietly paddles towards her sister and sinks into her warm hug. Frannie wraps her in safely and rubs the small of her back. She can feel her younger sister shaking in fear.
A worried frown adorning her face, she gently says, "Oh, Quinn. Did you have a bad dream again?"
The sad blonde nods against her chest, sniffling. Frannie can feel her own thin nightgown getting wet with Quinn's tears, but that is the least of her worries right now.
"What did you dream about?"
Quinn shakes her head against Frannie's chest, sniffling and burrowing deeper.
Fran just continues rubbing her back. She kisses Quinn's hair sweetly. "It's OK. You know can tell me."
Quinn's voice is slightly muffled with how deeply she's letting herself sink against her sister's chest when she answers. "I-I dreamt you le-left. I d-don't want you t-to leave."
Sighing sadly, Frannie tucks her in closer.
"You should have known that that dream is a lie. Where would I be going?"
Quinn shakes her head. She's clinging to her sister tightly, desperate to keep her. "I d-don't know. It's n-never said in the d-dream. I d-don't want you to g-go, Frannie. Y-you're the only one th-that can st-stand me. Don't l-leave m-me…"
"I won't."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"OK," Quinn concedes, trying to stifle her cries. It works a little.
Frannie sighs as she observes her sister worriedly. "You know what, I feel like singing tonight. What do you think; should I sing for you?"
She feels Quinn nod. "Y-yes, please," she whispers.
Rubbing her little sister's back, she smiles a softly before beginning to sing the song that she knows can calm Quinn down every single time.
When you wake up each morning
And you feel like calling
I'll be there for you
She feels Quinn sink deeper into her hug and she smiles some more. And although she keeps her voice soft as she sings, she knows in her heart that her emotions for her sister are strong.
When the road seems uncertain
And you can't stop the hurtin'
I'll be there for you
When there's no one beside you
I'll be there to guide you
Catch you each time you fall
When the stars won't shine anymore
I'll be there…
She feels Quinn get a little slack against her exhaustedly, so she carefully guides them until they're both lying on the bed, with Quinn still safe in her arms. Her little sister is still sniffling a little but she knows it wouldn't take long for her to stop crying.
When the world's unkind
And your dreams, they need more time
I'll be there for youIf the rules they keep breaking
And the future is fading
I'll be there... for you
Fran pulls away a little and motions for Quinn to look at her. When Quinn does, all red-faced and cheeks tear-stained, she offers her a warm, reassuring smile. Quinn smiles back through her tears as Fran wipes her face gently. The elder sister takes her sister's hand then, palm face up, and pretends to drop something on it before she resumes singing.
The rainbow will land
In the palm of your hand
Don't ever let it go
When the stars won't shine anymore
I'll be there…Who knows where we'll go
What will tomorrow bring
But we have each other, just hold on tight
We can take to the skies and fly…I'll be there for you…
I'll be there for you…The rainbow will end
In the palm of your hand
Don't ever let it go
When the stars won't shine anymore
I'll be there…I'll be there
By the time the song finishes, Quinn's sniffling has stopped. She is just looking at Frannie, smiling lovingly. Fran wipes the remaining tears off her face.
"It's OK, Quinn. I'll always be here."
Quinn nods contentedly, kisses Frannie in the cheek, then the little lamb on the nose, and tucks herself back towards Frannie's chest closer, her small arms trying to reach over her back even with the stuffed toy squeezed tightly between them.
Her heart clenching yet again, Frannie hugs her sister back just as tightly.
"I'll never leave you, alright? I'll always be here for you," she pledges, kissing Quinn's hair softly. There's nothing in the world that can describe how much she loves her little sister.
"P-promise?"
There's a tremble in Quinn's small voice that makes her want to punch the living daylights out their father – just to make him realize how much he's fucked things up; how much he's fucked up about things.
"Promise. I'll always be beside you."
"E-even if I make a m-mistake and make you h-hate me?"
"There's nothing you can do that can make me hate you," he tells her, smiling sadly. "You're my sister, and I'll love you no matter what. Don't forget that."
Quinn smiles at her sister, looking convinced, and sinks into her hug again. After a while though, as if realizing something, she pulls away and looks at Frannie, frowning. "But we're not always together when you're at school," she says.
Fran laughs a little. Touché.
"Then that's where this little guy would come in," she says, pointing at the lamb and pushing away a little so she could look at her sister better. Quinn watches her attentively. "I'll give him a little bit of my awesome spirit, so that whenever I'm not with you physically, all you have to do is hug her then you'll know that I'm always with you still."
Quinn looks at Frankie, confused, then at Frannie. Her brows are furrowed. "You're silly. Is that possible?"
"Yes of course," Frannie insists. "It's like a secret – a special spell. And the only ingredient is love with the intensity of 1 trillion storms – which is exactly the amount of it I have for you."
Quinn's forehead crunches further. "How much is 1 trillion?"
"It's a lot more than a billion."
The younger sister's eyes go wide. "Wow… Really? You love me that much?"
"Uhuh."
Quinn giggles and smiles to herself happily as she tucks her head against Frannie's chest again. Fran laughs softly and keeps her little sister warm.
It was quiet for a while. Frannie keeps rubbing Quinn's back, waiting for her younger sister to sleep.
"Frannie?" Quinn asks again after a few minutes.
She grumbles grumpily, pretending that Quinn's bothering her. Her lip automatically curves a little at the sides, but she knows Quinn, who's still buried in her embrace, can't see her.
She has played the prank on her sister a lot, though, that even constantly-nervous Quinn can tell that she's just playing with her.
Quinn squirms away from her elder sister's hug again so she could watch Frannie's face. Frannie does her best to look like she's not smiling, which is quite a hard feat.
"Frannie…Please? Open your eyes?" Quinn pleads innocently. "I have to tell you something."
OK, that's unfair. How sweet her sister could sound, that is. Frannie decides to give in, opening one of her eyes while keeping one closed stubbornly. "Yes, Quinn?" she grumbles.
Quinn smiles widely before saying, "I love you with the intensity of more than a trillion storms."
Despite her heart swelling, Frannie pretends to groan as she blinks with her one open eye. "You woke me up just to say that?"
Quinn nods happily.
"That you love me with the intensity of more than a trillion storms?"
Quinn nods again, keeping the goofy smile on her face.
"Just sleep, Quinn. That's impossible."
Quinn's face automatically falls in genuine worry, making Frannie's heart fall somewhere down her stomach as well. "You don't – you don't believe me," she asks shakily.
"You're silly, Quinn. Of course I do," she says, squirming closer towards Quinn. "But you don't get to say sweet things like that because my heart jumps in happiness and you're awakening my awesome spirit when all it wants to do is sleep, OK?"
"OK," Quinn says while biting her lip, looking justly disciplined but happy. "I just really love you, though."
Frannie smiles forlornly. Quinn. "Well that I know."
-present-
Judy watches over a sleeping, ill Quinn, her heart being squeezed all the while. Her daughter's fever skyrocketed this morning, and the sight that met her when she went down to get the blanket just won't leave her brain.
Quinn's face was really pale, and the dark circles around her eyes were even more pronounced. She was whimpering in pain, even in her sleep. She was loosely clutching her inhaler in her left hand – an evidence of her using it numerous times during the entire night. It apparently didn't help though – her wheezes still sounded so awful that Judy knew immediately that an inhaler wasn't what Quinn needed anymore.
Her breathing was really weak, too – and her chest almost wasn't moving. Nor was she making an effort to. She can't open her eyes when Judy nudged her gently and Judy knew – she just knew – that she had never been more scared of anything in her entire life.
Russell had been the one to stash the nebulizer the last time, though, and Judy had no idea where it is. So she ran to their room and woke her husband up, even if she was too scared she was shaking terribly. Russell groaned in protest, but he forced himself up when he noticed Judy crying.
"What the fuck?" he snarled. "You better be disturbing me for a good reason, you idiot."
Judy was too scared to feel hurt and small. She shakily tells him about Quinn's situation, and she must have had looked utterly terrified because Russell woke up immediately and pulled her to the basement along with her.
He checked on his daughter and cursed silently, muttering words like worthless and bothersome bitch as he stormed out to get Quinn's nebulizer from where he hid it.
When he came back with the machine, they both scrambled to let Quinn breath in the medicated gas. It took Quinn three vials of nebules before her breathing finally gets a little better. But her face was really pale still, and her skin was burning Judy's own, so she gathers what little courage she has, looked at Russell in tears and pleaded.
She received a rare, crisp slap in the cheek the first time the word 'hospital' came out of her mouth. She knew enough to keep quiet then.
Russell agreed to carry a really weak, ineffectively struggling Quinn to her bedroom, and although Judy wished he had been a little more gentler, she is slightly relieved that Quinn would feel a little more comfortable in her own bed instead. Russell then left Judy alone to take care of their "dumb garbage", supplying them with medicine before storming out and locking the door from outside. He had barged the windows as well.
Quinn has only managed to stay awake a few minutes after being brought to her room, giving Judy just enough time to feed her (which was hard to do, because Quinn refused to eat since her throat obviously hurts and she can't taste anything) and just enough time for Quinn to throw them all up. Her heart aching, Judy pleaded that she drink water at least, to accompany the paracetamol and Tylenol that she made her take.
Quinn had been restless the entire time she's asleep and Judy couldn't be sure if Quinn was aware of what she had been saying through her delirium, but Judy was aware – even if she desperately wishes she wasn't.
And no matter what she does, Quinn's broken musings of 'J-just make me dead, m-mama. It's b-better if I'm d-dead because I d-don't stop screwing up' just won't leave her head.
She is temporarily relieved of her torturous thoughts when she hears Quinn whimper and is quick to rush to her daughter's side. She watches in excruciating pain as heavy lids struggle to open.
"Open your eyes, baby. You can do it," she urges worriedly, heart pounding.
Quinn whimpers again, but she manages to open her hazel eyes painstakingly slowly. Her fearful eyes are unfocused as she regards Judy confusedly.
Judy almost sobs – she's so relieved. Quinn's been asleep for hours, looking so pained, and she had been so scared that she'll never see her daughter's beautiful hazel greens again.
"M-mama?" Quinn asks hoarsely, mouth dry. The corner of her eyes are red – and Judy knows that it's because of her very high temperature. Her voice has a wheezing sound to it, too, and Judy absently wonders if there are still nebules in the medicine box to use should Quinn need the nebulizer again.
"I'm here, baby," Judy tells her, taking Quinn's feverish hand in hers. Quinn tries to answer, but she winces instead before licking her dry lips. Judy hurriedly reaches for the glass of water on the table, and positions the straw so her daughter wouldn't have to move and hurt herself more.
"Here, drink baby. You need this."
She guides Quinn's head and watches with a sinking feeling in her gut as Quinn drinks the water in a desperate manner. Quinn manages to empty out two glasses, panting a little as she finishes. Judy places the glass back to the table then takes the wet cloth from the small pail to wipe at Quinn's face.
Quinn sighs at the simple pleasure, but Judy's heart hurts all the more. This would not be enough to make her baby feel better.
"D-don't le-leave me, mama," Quinn pants, terrified, once Judy's done wiping her face. Her head heavily falls on her pillow.
"I won't, baby. I promise."
It was quiet for a while, until Quinn suddenly jolts from her position. She tries to push herself up then winces in pain so Judy gently pushes her down, careful not to jostle her too much and irritate her injuries. The younger blonde's eyes are disoriented but fear-filled as she frantically moves her head around, seemingly searching for something.
"Baby, don't move. You're OK. What do you need?"
In her frail and ashen state, the dark spots around Quinn's eyes seem even more worrying than earlier. Quinn whimpers in fear as she looks past her mother waveringly and Judy hopes she isn't frightfully expecting for Russell to arrive.
After a few seconds, she finally turns to Judy, eyes tearful and lost, lower lip trembling.
"Wh-where's Frannie, m-mama?"
Judy feels like she's punched in the gut; that's even worse than Quinn expecting Russell's return.
She touches Quinn's forehead and bites back a sob as she realizes that her daughter's fever has spiked up even higher, high enough to burn her palm a little. Her daughter is so sick that she's being delirious again, and Judy desperately wishes for some form – any form – of help to arrive. She wishes for things to be just OK, because she doesn't know how to make these – these all – okay.
Quinn's chest is heaving fast in fear and the ghastly look in her eyes makes Judy want to cry. "Mama? I need…I need Frannie, M-mama. W-with you. C-can you c-call her for me," she sobs, before her eyes grow even more terrified as she looks at her mother, panting. "Or d-d-does daddy h-have her?"
"No, Baby. Frannie is in s-somewhere else," she hastily reassures around the heavy lump in her throat. She misses her eldest, so so much, and now that Quinn is expressing the same, she can't keep her heart from hurting even more. She's faced the grief alone, and let Quinn do the same instead of finding a way for them to face the loss together. "She's safe, Baby. Don't worry about her."
"Is she - A-are you sure?"
Judy nods, not able to trust her voice.
Quinn nods believingly. Then her eyes turn concerned as she stares at a spot on Judy's face.
"You-you're hurt," she says, guilt lacing her voice as her glassy eyes remains on Judy's bruise.
"It's nothing baby. Don't worry about it."
"I-I'm sorry, m-mama," Quinn apologizes, panting slightly and sounding close to tears again. "I'm sorry…"
"No, it's not because of you," Judy answers immediately, trying to calm her down. "I just hit it on the door accidentally. I promise it has nothing to do with you."
Quinn's eyes doesn't get a little less pained as she looks at her mother, unbelieving.
"I'm telling the truth, Quinn. And there's no need to worry, really. Right now, all you should worry about is how you're going to consume all of these foods I prepared only for you," she says, already reaching for the plate of bacon which she knows Quinn loves so much.
Quinn looks at the food, a pained expression on her face. "I d-don't want t-to eat…Please…" she whimpers.
"You're kidding," Judy answers, trying to lighten the situation up. "It's bacon."
Quinn shakes her head. "No, mama, please? N-no taste."
"Just a little, Quinn. Please. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday."
Quinn whimpers again. But she doesn't shake her head; she's probably scared of making Judy angry.
"I won't force you, but please, baby…. Please? For me?"
Quinn moans weakly, but she nods bravely, too. Judy, breathing out in relief, helps sit her up, feeds her and makes her take her medicines.
She thanks God so, so much when Quinn doesn't throw the foods out this time, and urges her daughter to keep still and rest.
Quinn gets attacked by a hackling series of coughs a few minutes later and Judy can only rub her daughter's back as she watches Quinn's entire body spasm from the pain the coughing brought, her hand desperately wrapped around her midsection.
"I-it hu-hurts," Quinn whimpers after the agony-filled coughing, her red-rimmed eyes silently begging her mother for help.
Judy's heart is squeezed tightly even more. Of course, Quinn is hurt. She checked her daughter's injuries this morning. She had to, even if it hurt like hell every time she does. And Russell had always been brutal, but the damage he's done to their daughter this time was worse than usual. The bruises on her stomach and around her ribs were really deep, made worse by the fact that Russell inflicted bruises over previous, non-healed ones.
Nothing seems to be broken, but with how bad her daughter's torso looked, and with the intensity of her illness, Judy can but imagine the pain that she's feeling right now.
"I know, Quinnie," she tries to soothe. "It hurts now but it'll be OK."
The young blonde whimpers and sobs, "Wh-why does i-it hurt so m-much?"
"Just try to sleep, it'll go away," Judy tells her. "It would be OK when you wake up."
It wouldn't.
Quinn closes her eyes for a while. "I-I dreamed about Frannie. I wish she's here. Because…So that I can…So she can sing to me," Quinn mutters dazedly. "I hope- I uhm – I wish she isn't somewhere else."
Judy smiles at her sadly. "Do you want me to sing for you instead?"
Quinn nods a little, before seeming to catch herself, hesitating. "But you- Will you- You wouldn't be mad?"
"No, Baby. I promise not to get mad at you again."
Quinn hesitates a little, her face visibly scared. The last time Quinn asked her mother to sing for her, Judy yelled instead. It was years ago – and Judy was hurting with Frannie's loss then, but it was so wrong, because Quinn never asked her for a song ever since.
"Do you t-trust mommy?" Judy brushes away slightly wet blonde locks away from her daughter's forehead.
Quinn hesitates still, but she mutters a soft "OK" after a while. "I want...Uhm…Will you - C-can you sing Frannie's song to me?"
Swallowing painfully, Judy offers her daughter a weak smile. "What song does she sing to you, baby," she asks. There's so much that she doesn't know about her daughters, reminding her yet again of her many letdowns as their mom.
"Mmmmm," Quinn hums, thinking hard. Judy watches her close her eyes and furrow her eyebrows weakly as she whimpers helplessly in thought. Quinn's fever-befuddled brain can't seem to register the title of the song.
"I-I can't remember," she sobs after a while, eyes still closed and chest heaving a little. She sobs, and Judy feels her heart clench again. "Why can't I remember?" she cries.
Gently, Judy massages the wrinkling skin between Quinn's eyebrows and wipes her daughter's tears, bracing herself not to cry all the while.
She has no right to. Not right now, at least.
"It's OK, Baby," she soothes. "I can just sing you another song. Would that be OK?"
"I c-can't remember," Quinn just mutters again, her face looking so pained and regretful.
"It's OK," Judy soothes her again. "That's just because you're sick. I know a good song, too. Do you want to hear it?"
Quinn swallows, but even that small of an action seems too pained. "If it's OK w-with you."
"Of course it is," she answers. "Now close your eyes."
Quinn nods, then does what her mom asks her to, albeit slowly.
Trying to get past the painful lump in her throat, she starts humming her own song for her baby.
"Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years, since it's been clear…"
She continues singing until she can't anymore, her lips shaking terribly no matter how hard she tries to be strong. She doesn't get to finish the song before she goes full-on sobbing, holding on to her daughter's hand for dear life.
Quinn has long gone back to sleep by then.
/
Santana hovers outside the Fabray door nervously, which is quite an infrequent thing, because she's so rarely nervous it should be considered a gem. It usually is the other way around – with her inflicting terror while her poor victims tremble somewhere below her feet. She has rang the Fabray doorbell a few times but no one has opened the door yet, and the longer she stays in front of the door, the worse her anxiety gets.
Maybe nobody's home. But the gate was open – a big clue that there are people inside – so Santana decided to let herself in and wait a little more. Maybe they're just busy inside or something.
Fidgeting, she stares once again at Quinn's schoolwork on her hands. She had been wanting to visit the dork since yesterday, so she could apologize for her stupidity. But she never got the courage and the excuse to do so, so when she heard Ms. Pillsbury talking about Quinn and homework while she was standing beside the guidance councilor's office, she had taken that as a sign and volunteered in a scary speed.
And Ms. Pillsbury, who is as busy as f*ck, agreed to let Santana do it. She can't blame her, though – with money-faced Figgins assigning the faculty multiple positions to save money, DirtFreak would have no time to pass by the Fabrays'. So she handed the homework to Santana, even if it seems like the weirdest thing on earth.
Like seriously, Santana thought Ms. Pillsbury has just witnessed a miracle when she offered help for the dork.
And hard it may be to admit, but she, Santana Lopez, after hours of torturous reflection, has finally come up with the conclusion that she had been inexplicably paranoid and unbelievably unreasonable.
Quinn never deserved how Santana treated her. She knew it, with the way Quinn acts – she's truly scared and hurt all along, and Santana, in a rare occurrence, is acknowledging it. She knew it, she just refused to acknowledge.
She knew it, because, contrary to what some people think, she's not blind. She just has a serious case of tunnel vision – enabling her to only acknowledge Brittany's and Rachel's and her family's pain. She knows others have pains, too, but Santana barely cares about theirs. Their hurts are but the blurs around the edges.
But since yesterday, she's been seeing Quinn's face – shy, unsure, terrified. Well she's seeing Brittany's (disappointed, hurt), and Rachel's (furious, but concerned), more, but she's seeing Quinn's too.
Her feet itch from nerves as she rings the doorbell again.
Maybe she's nervous because this is the first time she's actually apologizing directly to someone she's hurt. She makes an effort to get Brittany's forgiveness first every single time she crosses the line in terrorizing others, and it's Brittany who'd ask forgiveness for her.
But now, for some strange reason, she finds the need to personally ask forgiveness from the daughter of sunshine herself.
Maybe it's because Fabray has made them pass their project with flying colors. Woodwicke was so impressed Santana could have had bashed one of her classmates in the face with a vase and she wouldn't have had reacted. Brittany was able to explain in class how they made it fly, even. So that granted her favorite blonde additional points, plus a huge point boost for the final examinations. Santana owes the dork she terrorized so much, and although she thinks nothing she can do right now will grant her the right to be forgiven, she'll have to try.
Or maybe it's because the smaller blonde has this look on her face – and with all shit she'd seen considered, Santana thinks she has never seen eyes as sad as hers.
Whatever. There was just something about the quiet blonde that makes Santana feel extremely awful about herself now, and for the first time in a long time, she feels the bizarre need to correct a mistake.
When nobody opens the door on her, probably 12th push, she decides to give up. Chances are no one really is inside, and the family just forgot to close the gate. Sighing sadly, she contemplates whether she should just leave the schoolwork on the porch so Fabray can pass it by and pick it up later. She left an apology note inside anyway.
She sighs and decides to do just that.
But still, she pushes the doorbell once more. When no one opens for her yet again, she chooses to finally end her waiting at that.
She is about to turn around and walk away when she hears a crash from one of the rooms upstairs, halting her effectively. Her head twists to the room's direction, brows furrowed.
The f*ck?
There's someone inside, clearly, and if it's the dork, then she really has to personally talk to her. Or the night tonight would be sleepless as well, just like last night. Santana is desperate to, to say the least.
Then it suddenly clicks in her head. Maybe Quinn's the only one inside, and she's still really sick, so she can't come down to open the door. And her absent motherf*ckers of parents must have had left her alone.
Asses.
She looks back up at the window where she heard the crashing from, then notices the tree next to it. If she climbs up, she'll reach the room. She can help Quinn, if her Berry-like intuitions are correct.
It's illegal, and she can go to jail with that, but she's sneaky as hell (ninja, as how Brittany describes her), and can come up with a million alibis, so she would be totally fine.
She wishes the same situation for Quinn right now.
Biting her lip, she looks up on the room again, determined.
It wouldn't hurt for her to try, right?
/
There it is. :)
Reviews would be deeply appreciated.
So, I'll see you on Chapter 7?
Take care, y'all.