Thanks for the nice feedback - here's another chapter to make up for the fact i hadn't posted in a while
enjoy
the usual disclaimer applies
Chapter 9
2011, Lima, Ohio
"I don't think I'm ready for this," Quinn glanced at Artie.
"Sure you are," he reassured her.
"Artie, you have much better control of your trunk than I do, not to mention several years experience at this." She was half laughing at him as she spoke because he was mocking her; no one else would have dared, but it didn't bother him in the slightest.
"Come on woman, get over here and work with me on this."
"Did you seriously just call me woman?"
Artie grinned. "Come on, you need to learn wheelchair dancing one-oh-one." He nodded with his head to where he wanted her to position her chair. "Are you wearing the seatbelt just in case?"
She nodded.
There had been a few incidents of her falling out of the chair at school. The first time was when she had tried to reach up for something in her locker the first week back. Twice it had been when she hit a small bump in the sidewalk on her way out to the car and just couldn't keep herself in the seat. It was only as she was too late to do anything about it, that she realized she was slipping forwards. Apparently she might need a chair that seated her differently, but for now, the seatbelt was used until she understood her new body a little better and learned to read the signs.
Artie switched on the music. He had unsurprisingly chosen a Michael Jackson song. To the strains of Thriller, they started with Quinn just copying his moves. He showed her how to time her movements with just the chair initially, they didn't worry about anything else for now.
"Just try rolling forwards and push on the beat," he showed her.
Quinn was adept enough with controlling the chair to manage it with ease, so then he threw in some turns and she started to breathe a little heavier.
Next came double turns and finally wheelies. She was getting better at them, but timing them to music wasn't so easy.
There was a sheen of perspiration across her brow after half an hour and her fingers were getting sore.
"I think that's pretty good for a first lesson. Make sure you practice at home a little every day if you can."
She nodded. "I'll try. I'm kind of struggling to find any spare time in the week to be honest. I'm caught up with school work now but everything seems to take me so long." She realized that sounded a lot like moaning.
"It gets easier and quicker though, especially when you practice."
"I know and it is getting gradually easier, but still…." she blew the hair from her eyes and leaned her shoulders forwards placing her elbows on her knees to stretch her lower back a little.
Up in the back of the auditorium, the seats were shrouded in darkness so the two students on the stage couldn't see that they were being watched.
For forty minutes, Santana had remained still, admiring the way Quinn pushed herself physically and emotionally. She was churned up just watching the once perfect body move around in a wheelchair and twice, tears had rolled down her left cheek as Quinn had only half managed something before her top half had collapsed forwards onto her knees. She hadn't slipped out so Santana guessed she was strapped in, but it was just such a stark contrast to the time they had been in the bathroom together and Quinn had peeled off her slushy-stained top to reveal the long lean torso.
Dabbing at the tears with her finger, Santana sighed heavily. This wasn't doing anyone any good at all, but if she moved, they might see her and how was she going to explain her voyeurism then?
The pair rolled off the stage into the wings and then backstage. Santana could hear them laughing, Artie clearly said something funny and Quinn's delightful reply was laced with a giggle. She had no idea what the two had been saying, but she loved listening to Quinn's chuckle.
Standing, Santana stared at the spot on stage that the blonde had been occupying and then she turned and left the now silent auditorium.
—
"I saw you," Quinn mentioned as Santana took the seat beside her in Spanish.
"What?" The Latina flushed a little but kept her voice very low.
"In the auditorium yesterday."
"I don't know what…"
"Don't lie about it," Quinn whispered. "I could see the outline of someone watching us because of the fire exit sign. I didn't know it was you at first but I went around after we came off stage to see who it was and I saw you leaving from the back exit."
The normally quick to respond mouth, fell open a little and she glanced around to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation.
"I don't know what you were doing but I need you not to feel sorry for me, okay? I can take it from everyone else but not you. We've always been straight with each other, about the only thing about you that is straight, and I don't want that to change."
Santana wanted to say something but Mr Schue chose that moment to introduce the lesson and they didn't get a chance to finish the conversation.
Santana caught up with Quinn later on in the hallway.
"Look blondie, just because I was sat watching doesn't mean you can throw accusations around."
Quinn sighed. She really didn't understand the other girl's attitude. There were obvious issues surrounding her sexuality and yet she was an enigma, she called everyone else out on their weaknesses but couldn't admit to her own. She cared about people but didn't want anyone to know about it. Everything seemed to be a fight; every conversation had aggressive overtones.
"Look, I'm sorry you have stuff going on in your life that you can't handle, but right now I have my own significantly more serious problems. I can't deal with you stalking me on top of this," she indicated the wheelchair.
Santana grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the main hallway.
"Hey, watch out or you'll have me in a heap on the floor!"
"Oh shut up, you said you didn't want treating any differently. Besides, you're well strapped in." Santana then looked a little guilty. "I didn't hurt you did I?"
Quinn shook her head.
"Okay well, I know you have shit to deal with but I told you about my family; if they find out about me I'm toast."
Another sigh from the blonde followed. "I don't know how to help with that, sorry. I get this is hard for you, but I just can't handle any more drama right now."
Santana put her hands on her hips. "How are things? Are you okay? Berry hasn't said much."
"Things are what they are." She shrugged. "I'm getting by, that's about it right now."
Santana looked at the bright white of her gym shoes.
"You'll tell me if there's anything you need right? I mean, I want to help but without making you feel bad about it. I know you're not useless, you're just still getting to grips with everything."
"How's your backhand?"
"What?"
"I need to do something apart from sit and watch everyone else. Are you any good at tennis?"
Santana was okay at the game. Her father had paid for her to have lessons until she took up cheerleading seriously. "I can hold my own."
"Thank God, Rachel is hopeless and I really need to take out some frustration on something."
"Hate to break it to you though, the tennis courts are under a foot of snow," Santana waved in the general direction of the school courts.
"That's not a problem. My father might not speak to me anymore, but he doesn't get out of paying alimony. Mom got me membership at the country club. They have a spa too," she grinned.
The Latina took one look at the cheesy grin plastered across Quinn's face and melted a little.
—
2020, Riverside, Connecticut
"Can I watch you work for a while?" Rachel chewed on toast with raspberry jelly lashed all over it.
Quinn shrugged. "Sure, why not? I'm just going to do some stuff in the studio this morning."
Rachel was enjoying her time off. Staying with her old friends was easy and stress free. She was teased remorselessly of course, but that was part of the fun. They reminded her of when her life was normal and full of genuine people, not some of the hangers-on she had to put up with now.
"What are you working on?" The brunette sipped at the scalding coffee.
"How can you drink that so hot?" Quinn blew on her own to cool it a little. She rolled her eyes at the shrug she received in response. "I'm experimenting with primary color liquids in still life."
She got one of Rachel's bemused looks.
"It's pretty cool actually. Like freezing the liquid using lights to create really vivid still life. I'm just trying it with all kinds of containers and different viscosity of liquid."
"Thanks for explaining because now I know exactly what you're talking about!" The brunette rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated shrug, throwing a hand out to emphasise it.
"Drama queen!" Quinn scowled at her. "You asked me what I was working on."
"But you explained it like I understood what you were talking about," Rachel finished her coffee. "I generally stand in front of the camera not behind it."
The scowl turned into a smirk. "Come on, I'll show you instead."
They moved through the ground floor to Quinn's studio, essentially a large empty, white room, save for photographic equipment and bizarrely, a children's inflatable paddling pool situated on top of a low table.
Beneath the table were assorted plastic bottles bearing brightly colored liquid of various shades and suspended above the inflatable were two wine glasses glued onto barely visible wire.
"I've been using flash to freeze the liquids in the air. I play around with the colors and swing the glasses into each other, then fire the lights at the same time as the camera and I get some cool combinations of colour and motion."
Rachel watched Quinn pour purple and lime green liquid into the glasses and then set up her camera and a flash gun. Firing a few test shots, she seemed happy and then threw a plain grey sweater at Rachel. "Do me a favor and put that on."
"What for?"
"Your bright white top is reflecting into the green on my photo," she motioned Rachel to take a look at the laptop that was tethered to the camera.
"Oh my gosh, I wouldn't even have noticed, but it's really obvious now you point it out."
Quinn shrugged. She rarely wore grey clothes; it was such a drab color, but she hardly ever worked in anything else in the studio.
Rachel watched Quinn get to work and admired the ease with which she created her pictures. Occasionally she would break off and check through the batches of shots to select those worth editing. The blonde eased around the studio with the now familiar fluidity of movement that belied her disability.
"What's this for?"
"Mostly, it's just fun, but I have a commission from a company who make expensive wine glasses. Not that I'm using the real ones for this, they would just smash. They had plastic ones made in a variety of their designs so they look the same as the real thing. I didn't invent this style, it's been done plenty of times before but it pays the mortgage."
"I'll edit them later and give them a little polish before sending the proofs to the company. If they like them, they pay me, if they don't, I get to market them elsewhere."
"Ooh, I like that one," Rachel pointed at the screen with a splash of orange and green suspended magically in the air above two glasses.
Quinn nodded and quickly did something to remove the wires with Photoshop and a couple more tweaks later she rolled back a couple of feet and admired her handiwork.
"I like this one too," she nodded. "It might make the final selection."
Rachel was sat on a stool with her chin propped on her hand and a smile plastered across her face as her best friend did something clever on the laptop. When she was done she took her camera off the tripod and gave it a quick wipe over to remove the odd drop of liquid. Glancing up at Rachel, she smiled and then brought the camera up to her eye before firing off a few quick shots.
Rachel's face morphed into a vague protest because she wasn't wearing any make-up and still had on Quinn's grey sweater.
"If you're going to take my picture, at least let me go to the powder room first."
Quinn just chuckled. "Rach, I'm not going to post them online or send them to the tabloids." She quickly checked the screen on the camera. "Take a look," she nodded at the laptop where the pictures quickly flashed up.
Rachel glanced and actually smiled. "They look kinda nice actually." There was a little pink blush across her cheeks.
"Of course they do, I took them," the blonde shrugged. "And they look natural, not pre-posed or manufactured. Sometimes natural is best. You have never really needed make-up to look good, Rach."
Rachel blushed a little. "You always say that."
"It's true," she shrugged. "I don't think I've ever even seen a zit on you."
"I had one once," Rachel protested. "And there's the little scar on my brow, that sometimes shows up."
The blonde rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Stop fretting and let's go get some coffee."
Rachel stripped off the sweater and hung it on a peg by the door. "I really enjoyed watching you work. Thanks for letting me see."
Quinn rolled back through the house. It was quiet with Beth at school and Santana at the office.
"Don't you get lonely working at home?"
The blonde shook her head. "It's not this quiet every day, but even when it is, I'm never lonely on my own. I've always been happy in my own company."
"I don't think I've ever been happy on my own. I used to get very lonely when I was younger and I didn't really have many friends."
Quinn took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "But you have friends now so it's not a problem, right?"
"Kind of. Kurt and I are still close, and some of my cast mates from shows, but it's not like at school. I still miss everyone."
Quinn smiled. "So do I sometimes, but we can't live in the past."
"I think I've been doing that a little bit," Rachel admitted. "I compare everyone to the friends I had in glee club and they mostly come up short. I think I might be tiring of all the people who are nice to you because they want something from you. Do you know what I mean?"
"Is it that hard to tell what people are really like?"
"For me it is. I don't have you or Santana to set me straight when someone isn't genuine."
A few moments of quiet passed as Quinn went to the fridge and offered Rachel a bottle of water before taking a sip from her own.
"We should go shopping," Rachel suggested. "What's the choice like around here?"
Quinn shrugged. "It's just the same as everywhere else in the US. It's not Manhattan that's for sure," she warned her friend. "I guess we could go now and still be back to pick up Beth from school."
"Tell me there's a decent department store at least?"
Quinn smiled. "There is, Macy's" she motioned to the door. "Let me just change quickly and get my stuff," she disappeared for ten minutes and returned with her phone and car keys.
"We're driving?"
"I'm driving. How else are we going to get there?"
"We could take a cab," Rachel suggested. "We can go for a glass of wine then."
Quinn raised her eyebrow. "It's lunchtime and I only drink one or two glasses a week, not a day. I'll drive but you can have a glass of wine if you want."
Rachel waved away the suggestion and they went out to the car. Rachel waited for Quinn to load herself in and then put the wheelchair on the back seat before climbing in.
"This is exciting, it's years since we've done anything like this, just the two of us."
Quinn glanced in the rear view mirror and then nodded. "It is, in fact I can't even remember when we last did this."
—
April 2011, Lima, Ohio
"I'm not going," Quinn shrugged nonchalantly.
"You have to go," Rachel protested.
"Of course she's going," Santana rolled her eyes. "You need a date is all."
"Are you offering?" Quinn teased.
"Shut up, Fabray," the Latina would have said more had the audience been larger.
"Artie and Brit broke up so he will probably ask you." Rachel filed a nail and glanced at it.
"Why would Artie ask me?"
Rachel paused for a moment and thought about it.
Quinn was a bit irritated. "Just because we have a disability in common, you think that only someone else in a chair is going to be interested? That's a little prejudice and probably offensive, Rach."
Rachel's face fell. "I didn't mean it like that, honestly. I just meant because you and he are close now, you spend a lot of time together practicing and …. I would never want you to feel like I was prejudice."
Quinn nodded. "Artie's just a friend. He's helped me out a lot, but there's nothing else between us. I don't know why I got so defensive about that actually, it's not like anyone else has shown an interest in me since the accident."
"Are you ready for that?" Santana was curious.
A shrug followed. "I don't know, but it would be nice to be asked."
"If you were a boy, I would totally be after you," Rachel let her thoughts run out of her mouth.
Quinn turned and glanced at the brunette before they all broke into a fit of giggles.
"So on the assumption that someone will ask you out, I am repeating my original question; do you want to go dress shopping together for junior prom?"
Quinn sighed. "I guess I could just go stag if no one asks me," she replied.
"That's the spirit, glad to see optimism alive and kicking in you," Santana clamped a hand over her own mouth, realising what she'd just said. She spoke a silent prayer that maybe Quinn wouldn't notice but as she dropped her hand and glanced she found the familiar raised eyebrow aimed at her. "Okay, God, sorry I wasn't thinking."
The eyebrow remained raised for a few moments until the shoulders started shaking and then Quinn actually doubled over with laughter.
Santana smacked her on the shoulder with a half smile on her face, which rapidly descended into giggles because hearing Quinn laugh was such a good sound. It was almost as good as the imaginary 'yes' she heard the blonde say when her imaginary self asked the blonde out, but every time she wanted to do it, something stopped her.
She wasn't sure if it was her own lack of courage, worrying that Quinn really wasn't ready to think about dating anyone yet or the fear of being turned down because despite the moderate flirting, Quinn had never actually said she was interested; whatever it was, climbing that mountain seemed just too insurmountable right now.
—