Hey guys, I'm back! I know that this is a little bit late, but I ended my vacation into a long weekend and we all know how that goes.
First and foremost, I want to thank everybody again for the overwhelming support and responses. You are all really incredible. It always pushes me to keep going so any comments/suggestions/constructive criticism I am all for.
Anyway, this chapter is an opportunity to get a little bit more into Quinn's mind. If you haven't figured it out yet I love me some super angsty, always has to figure things out the hard way Quinn but things will slowly start to piece together soon.
I will be back sooner rather than later with more. Thanks again. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 4:
Quinn goes home with Rachel after school.
It hadn't been her intention but for some reason ever since Rachel told her of her suspicions about her fathers' true identities, Quinn has been unable to think of anything else.
The blonde has spent the majority of her morning trying to convince herself that her obsession is only because she is glad that Rachel Berry's life is proving to be far less perfect than the brunette always pretended it was.
But Quinn doesn't even believe herself on that front.
"Why are we doing this again?"
Rachel chases after the blonde. It is her house, yet the brunette finds herself being led by Quinn, who pushes into Rachel's bedroom, pausing only to gag at the nauseating shade of yellow that it is.
"Are you really going to base all of your facts on a high school biology lab, Berry?" Quinn responds, rolling her eyes at Rachel before helping herself to the girl's desk, flipping on her computer. "This is William McKinley we're talking about, not Harvard. Those results are about as accurate as Puck's aim on the toilet bowl. You have the bite. Now it's your responsibility to reel it in."
Quinn had come up with the idea herself. She approached Rachel with it at roughly the same time she had invited herself over the brunette's house.
If this were any normal day, Quinn recognizes that Rachel would likely be suspicious as to why Quinn has vested such a sudden interest in her personal life, but it is hardly a normal day. Rachel is far too curious about the answers that Quinn claims she can provide to ask any of the appropriate questions.
Rachel's silence is confirmation enough for Quinn, who nods her head and turns to the computer to get to work.
"I can't believe you never thought to do this yourself," Quinn tells Rachel with a vexing groan as she opens an internet browser and turns straight to Google.
The blonde types At Home Paternity Test Kit into the search bar and hits Enter. 520,000 results greet her.
"I never had any reason to," Rachel shrugs, hovering over Quinn's shoulder.
"This is your whole life we're talking about here, Berry," Quinn pushes. "Whose name is on your birth certificate?"
"I don't know," Rachel shrugs and this time, Quinn doesn't even bother trying to suppress her frustration.
"You're almost eighteen years old and you've never seen your birth certificate?" the blonde gapes. "You're absolutely hopeless, you do know that, right? You never once thought that it was suspicious that your dads didn't show it to you?"
"That doesn't matter, Quinn," Rachel insists, struggling to defend her family dynamic despite the voice in the back of her head telling her that the blonde makes a compelling argument. "I didn't want to bring it up because I knew it was a sensitive subject for my dads. I didn't want to start digging and have them think that I loved one of them any less just because of what my genes say."
"Christ, you're nauseating," Quinn fakes a gagging motion as she begins to filter through the never-ending search results.
"We were good with what we had."
"Clearly," Quinn rolls her eyes sarcastically, but she does not linger on the topic as she comes across a result in her search that looks appeasing.
"Here. This is the one." Quinn changes the subject, clicking on the link in front of her. The computer screen blinks, and a new page emerges almost instantly.
"It says here that they charge orders to Home Paternity," Rachel points out. "I can't put that on my debit card, Quinn. My dads get the bill."
"Lucky for you, my mom doesn't pay much attention to my credit card bill. It's in my dad's name so she would prefer if I maxed it out anyway. I can put it on my card. Do you have any cash on you?"
"A little," Rachel shrugs. Quinn looks up at her.
"$150 worth?"
"$150?" Rachel's jaw drops like she is personally affronted by the outrageous cost.
"Paternity tests are expensive. It's a lucrative business," Quinn shrugs. "You can always go on The Maury Show."
"I'm not going on The Maury Show," Rachel rolls her eyes.
"Why not?" Quinn asks. "You'll get a free trip to New York out of it and I bet they won't even make you pay for the test."
"I am not going on Maury," Rachel emphasizes. She doesn't sound humored by Quinn's attempt at a joke. Mostly because she doesn't think that the blonde is actually joking.
As it is, she has to look over Quinn's shoulder just to make sure that the girl isn't secretly signing her up for a guest slot on the daytime talk show as they speak.
"Suit yourself," Quinn shrugs. "I guess that means you owe me a hundred and fifty bucks."
Rachel groans in an expression of her dissatisfaction with the deal but retreats to her dresser anyway. She digs around in the top drawer for a moment before pulling out a small jewelry box. When she opens it, Quinn finds that it is stuffed with a handful of pristine bills.
"You can rush the results for an extra hundred," Quinn informs Rachel.
The brunette glares at the blonde but counts out a couple more twenties and adds it to her pile before slapping the money down on the desk in front of Quinn.
"Order it."
Quinn follows Rachel's instructions, ordering the DNA test. The blonde even sends it to her house; Rachel insisting that if her dads see a package for her at their doorstep, they would want to know what was inside.
Quinn is just packing up to leave when Rachel's bedroom door swings open without so much as a warning knock. It is Rachel's father; Quinn doesn't know which one. The girls haven't even heard him come home.
"Rachel, didn't you hear me calling for you?" the man asks, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Quinn freezes, waiting for Rachel's reaction. The brunette had told her earlier that her fathers have no idea what she knows. After learning the truth, Rachel had somehow retained her composure throughout the remainder of dinner and then retreated upstairs to her bedroom where she has been avoiding her parents ever since.
Quinn knows that Rachel is pissed, but she doesn't even think that the brunette notices the way her eyes are currently narrowing in on her own father, and she senses the need to intervene before he uncovers their secret plan before they can even really get started.
"Sorry, Mr. Berry. We were just working on a group project for history class." Quinn fields the lie for Rachel, who seems to have lost her voice for the first time in her life.
"Quinn." The man turns to the blonde with a nod. He looks surprised by her input, like he hadn't even noticed that she had been standing their until she said something. Immediately, Quinn knows that he is suspicious. "It's nice to see you again."
"You don't have to lie, Mr. Berry," Quinn assures the man, letting him off the hook.
Before he can even process what Quinn had just said to him, the blonde grabs onto Rachel's hand and jerks her past her father and into the hallway.
"We have to go back to my house to finish the rest of our project. I left some of my notes at home," Quinn lies again. "I'll have Rachel home in time for dinner!"
Quinn drags Rachel down the stairs, leaving her stunned father behind.
Rachel's feet move in double-time, struggling to keep up as Quinn pulls her down the stairs and out the front door.
"You almost blew it back there!" Quinn scolds Rachel, only after the front door is firmly shut behind them and they are safely out of earshot of Rachel's father.
"What do you want me to do, Quinn?" Rachel seethes quietly. "This is all very new to me, you know."
"Which is exactly why you have to start being smarter about it," Quinn counters. "Go for a walk, clear your head. Do some of those stupid acting warm-ups you're always going on about in glee. Lying is all about being in the right state of mind. I brought you a couple of hours back there for you to figure it out. I recommend you take them."
Rachel only stares at the blonde. She has nothing to say to her. She knows that Quinn is right, but this entire situation is still so completely surreal that she can't bring herself to comprehend the advice.
Quinn takes her silence as a confirmation that Rachel has heard her loud and clear. Confident that her work here is done, the blonde turns over her shoulder and marches back towards her car.
"Where are you going?" Rachel calls after her.
Quinn doesn't even turn around. "I have a previous engagement!" she calls over her shoulder, purposefully vague as she ducks inside of her car without another word, leaving a very confused Rachel Berry behind.
Quinn hadn't been lying when she told Rachel that she had something else to do tonight.
The blonde drives under the speed limit, probably for the first time in her life, eyes scanning the buildings around her as she searches for the right address.
When she does finally find it, Quinn immediately notices that it is an apartment complex.
The doorman behind the desk in the lobby is polite and talkative. Apparently, he had been expecting her because he gives her directions to the apartment on the fourth floor without question.
It is only after she is in the elevator that it really hits Quinn where she is and what she is about to do.
She has half a mind to hit the emergency stop button and allow herself a good cry, but that would be counterproductive. In the end, she swallows her emotions and steps into the hallway, scanning the numbers on the apartment doors for the right one.
When she finds it, Quinn knocks quickly, forcing herself not to hesitate. She is afraid that if she does, she might do something stupid like run away. All she can do is pretend like this is any other house call.
She hears a slight rustling coming from the other side of the door. There is the sound of more than one voice. Quinn tries to search through the noise for a crying of a toddler, maybe an unidentifiable babble of words, but she hears nothing of the sort.
The door opens suddenly, and Quinn jumps a little bit. When she looks up, she is surprised to see Puck standing in the doorway.
"You're here already," Quinn comments, watching as Puck eyes her up and down, trying to judge her current state. He must not notice anything unusual, because he only shrugs and shoves his hands deep inside of his hoodie pockets.
"Shelby said 4:30," he tells her simply. "It's after 5."
"I had some homework to do," Quinn lies, and it guides them into a silence that lingers almost uncomfortably.
Neither one of them moves. Puck is still standing inside of the doorway, blocking her entrance, and Quinn is still straining, listening for evidence of Beth's presence that never comes.
"Are you gonna let me in?" Quinn finally has to ask.
"Oh yeah," Puck jumps and shakes his head like he had forgotten where he is and why Quinn had come here in the first place. This was all very new to both of the young parents.
"Thanks…" Quinn mutters, stepping into what looks like a living room.
There are moving boxes stacked to the ceiling, indicating that Shelby had only recently moved in, which makes sense because the first time Puck had met Beth, he had told Quinn that Shelby was still living in a hotel. There isn't even any furniture set up yet.
"Quinn. You made it."
Quinn hears Shelby's voice and her eyes snap up expectantly. She is hoping to see Beth with her but has to fight to mask her disappointment when she finds that her daughter is still nowhere to be seen.
"I'm sorry about the mess," Shelby pushes. Small talk. Not a good start in Quinn's eyes. "We just moved in last night. My things were delivered from New York this morning."
"It's okay," Quinn mutters, uninterested.
"The couch won't be here until tomorrow, but if you want to come into the dining room, I've got the table in there and Beth set up in her pack-and-play."
Quinn releases a breath that she hadn't even realized she had been holding.
"She's here?" the blonde asks in a tiny voice. She was starting to think that this whole thing was a set-up.
"Of course," Shelby nods and at least has the decency not to laugh at Quinn's question. "Would you like to see her?"
Quinn's lips fold in around themselves as she glances up at Shelby with a look of pure longing that she knows gives away her answer before she can even say it. She is terrified of what sounds might come out of her mouth should she open it so instead she just resolves to bite her tongue and nod.
"Come on," Shelby waves the blonde forward and somehow, Quinn manages to find her feet and follow Shelby into the small dining room where, as promised, Beth is suddenly just… there.
Quinn's feet stall. She lets out a tiny gasp of air before she can stop herself. She has been waiting for this moment for over a year, yet she finds that she doesn't know what to do now that it is here.
If she is being honest with herself, she doesn't feel much of anything. Instead, her mind is completely blank leaving her only able to stare at the tiny girl in front of her with an intensity like she has never and will never see anything quite so beautiful ever again.
Beth's back is turned towards her. The child is sitting, preoccupied with the multitudes of large, plastic baby toys that are scattered at her feet. She has absolutely no idea, the magnitude of everything that is going on just behind her back.
The only distinguishable thing that Quinn can really see of Beth from this position is the scarce wisps of thin, blonde curls that stick up all over her scalp, defying gravity. She has enough hair now that Shelby has managed to pull it up into tiny pigtails. For some reason, this is what Quinn finds herself fixating on the most.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Shelby whispers. It is almost as if she does not want to disturb Beth in this moment of peace. She is not ready to let the little girl know just how chaotic the world around her can become. For the first time in her entire life, Quinn actually agrees with the woman.
Quinn swallows but knows she cannot answer.
Beth is beautiful, of course. She is the most beautiful thing that Quinn has ever laid eyes on, and in that moment, Quinn knows that she has to get her back.
The idea of sabotaging Shelby in an effort to regain custody of Beth has been on the back of Quinn's mind for some time now.
In that time, Quinn has thought up a multitude of different ways to try to frame Shelby as being an unfit parent. Each idea felt stupider than the last: a bottle of Tabasco sauce to plant inside of Beth's diaper bag, a couple of stupid books that she had stolen from one of her Skank friend's bedrooms on pagan rituals and human sacrifices…
Quinn considers the weight of those items, hiding inside of her bag right now, and she realizes that those ideas weren't just stupid, they were child's play. They would succeed in nothing beyond making her like an idiot.
Quinn knows that if she wants to prove that she can be an adult and raise a child, she would have to start acting like it. She needs to think bigger.
Immediately, Quinn's thoughts wander towards Rachel Berry and everything that Quinn had learned about her today.
Rachel didn't have to tell her the secret that she had discovered about Shelby and her fathers. In fact, Quinn honestly believes that she is the last person Rachel would normally confide in at all. Yet for some reason, she had.
What if the secret to Quinn getting Beth back was hiding inside of the results of that paternity test that her and Rachel had ordered today? What if Rachel's crisis became her saving grace? Was it possible that the secrets that Shelby and Rachel's fathers are hiding are dark enough that Quinn might be able to convince a judge that Shelby isn't worthy of Beth?
It would work better than a bottle of Tabasco sauce, that's for sure.
"Quinn?"
Quinn looks hesitantly at Shelby. Before she can stop herself, she immediately starts to feel guilty for what she is planning.
Everything inside of Quinn is telling her that Shelby's intentions tonight had been nothing short of genuine. Shelby is under no obligation to the young blonde, yet here they all are.
And what would going through with her plan do to Rachel?
"Would you like to hold Beth?"
Any thoughts of betrayal against either Shelby or Rachel immediately exit Quinn's mind the moment she realizes that Shelby is standing in front of her, holding Beth in her arms, extending the girl out towards Quinn like an offering.
Beth is staring up at her with wide, curious eyes that are identical to Quinn's, and Quinn can't tell if she is imagining the vague sense of familiarity in Beth's face or if it is genuine.
Somehow, Quinn manages to nod her head, and when Shelby passes the toddler into her arms, the blonde has to fight to wipe the bewilderment off her face.
Quinn balances the child carefully, if not slightly awkwardly as she attempts to adjust to the new weight inside of her arms.
The first and only time Quinn has ever held Beth, the little girl had only been a couple of minutes old. A year and a half later, she is much bigger.
On top of that, instinct and experience has Beth yearning for Shelby's touch now, not hers. For a moment, Beth cries out for the older woman and Quinn's heart just about stops. She hates that she is nothing more than a complete stranger to her own daughter.
"I don't think she likes me," Quinn panics.
Shelby looks up at her sympathetically. "Give her a minute," she encourages. "Just relax."
Quinn takes a deep breath and tries to heed Shelby's advice. It takes a moment, but after a while, Beth stops squirming and settles in.
The child looks back and forth between Shelby and Quinn like she is trying to figure out the missing pieces for herself. Finally, her eyes settle solely on Quinn. She looks inquisitively up at the blonde who is holding her. Quinn imagines that she is remembering where she had seen this woman before.
Quinn only just stops herself from crying. She doesn't want Beth to see her like that. She doesn't want that to be Beth's first memory of her. When do kids start really remembering things anyway?
Quinn hopes that it is not for a long time. She hopes this, because when all is said and done, the blonde wants tonight to be the last time that Beth ever confuses who her real mother is again.
Mostly, she hopes that Beth will never have to remember all the things that Quinn knows she has to do in order to get them there.
Quinn and Puck leave just after 7:30 because Shelby has to put Beth to bed after dinner.
Quinn doesn't want to leave. She has only been with Beth for a couple of hours and she has over a year to make up for. This is hardly a dent. Nothing aside from a lifetime with Beth will make up for the time she had already lost to Shelby.
"What are you doing?"
Puck waits until the elevator doors close on the two of them to call Quinn out. Even then, he hisses through a hushed whisper as though he is afraid that Shelby might still somehow overhear them.
"Taking the elevator?" Quinn replies, playing stupid.
"You're up to something," Puck accuses, bearing into the blonde.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Quinn crosses her arms.
"Beth is happy, Quinn," Puck argues as Quinn starts to punch at the button for the lobby repeatedly, trying to speed this elevator ride up. "She's happy and she's safe and she's in a home that loves her. I don't know what you're planning, but whatever it is don't ruin this for Beth."
"She's happy?" Quinn retorts. Her tone is sarcastic and malicious, and it makes even Puck edge away from the blonde nervously. "She isn't even with her real family! Do you really want our kid to grow up to be as screwed up as Rachel Berry is?"
Puck looks at Quinn with a raised eyebrow, his face dipping with confusion.
"What does any of this have to do with Rachel?" he asks.
Quinn swallows. She hadn't intended on bringing Rachel into this conversation, but it is a sign of just how much the brunette has been on her mind lately that she pops up anyway.
"Have you seen what Shelby did to her?" Quinn insists. Puck just looks at her blankly. Seriously though, is she really the only person around here who has noticed how Rachel has been walking around like a zombie lately? She has been reduced to half the girl she had been before Shelby's return. So has Quinn.
Quinn doesn't understand how Puck can continue to walk around like everything is fine and normal. He isn't blinking twice about Shelby being back. Neither is anybody else. How the hell has her life gotten to a point where her and Rachel Berry are the only two people in Lima acting rationally?
"What is going on with you?" Puck asks after a moment. He looks nonplussed by Quinn, like he is seeing her for the very first time.
"Nothing is going on with me!" Quinn counters. Despite her best efforts, her volume is rising. Why doesn't this elevator move any faster?
She is just thinking that she should have taken the stairs when the lift rattles to a halt.
Quinn edges her way out of the elevator before the doors can even open all the way. The lack of footsteps charging behind her tells her that Puck isn't stupid enough to try to follow.
Pushing past the very confused doorman, Quinn rounds out of Shelby's apartment and into the parking lot.
She needs to suppress these thoughts flooding inside of her mind, because the only thing she can afford to think about right now is Beth.
Yet no matter how hard she tries, the only thing she can consider is what her intentions for Beth might mean for Rachel.
There is a box with Quinn's name on it in her mailbox when she gets home from school Thursday.
It is smaller than Quinn thought it would be. In fact, it fits comfortably inside of the palm of her hand. It is also remarkably light despite the heaviness of the information it harnesses.
Quinn is still studying the plain, brown box when she puts her house key into the lock and pushes through the front door.
Her mother is still at work. The house is dark and is still a mess from the morning rush. Neither Quinn nor her mother are morning people. They are perpetually leaving their house in shambles.
Quinn knows that she shouldn't open the box. Technically, what is inside belongs to Rachel. Still, both Rachel and Quinn had agreed to put her name on it which means that the federal offense of tampering with another person's mail shouldn't apply in this scenario.
She relies on this logic to excuse her curiosity and tears into the package like a rabid raccoon.
The kit inside is simple and small. There is the most ridiculous picture on the front of a man smiling down at a baby like the people who make this test are trying to convince both themselves and others that it hasn't ruined more lives than it has ever helped.
The instructions seem simple enough, and the note inside of the box guarantees results in two days or less. Quinn sucks in a deep breath, considering how incredible it is that after all this time, she will only have to wait two more days until she has all the information that she needs to start trying to get Beth back.
Trying to remember that this is about Rachel, not her, Quinn flings her backpack onto the empty bar stool and checks her watch. It is barely after three o'clock. She knows that Rachel and some of her other friends participating in the musical have rehearsal after school. Rachel wouldn't be home for hours.
The blonde's cellphone rings from her back pocket. The noise is ridiculously loud amidst the otherwise silence of the house and Quinn jumps back, so lost inside of her thoughts that the reminder that there is still a world out there moving forward while she is at a standstill strikes her like a truck.
"Shit…" Quinn curses the overreaction as the paternity test that she had been holding slips from her hands and falls to the floor.
She takes a deep breath, trying to remind herself that there is no need for her to be acting like this right now. It's not like this is her problem. The results of this test would give her life more meaning even if they would likely destroy Rachel's in the process.
Quinn swallows her trepidation, struggling to convince herself that she doesn't care about Rachel, that she cares about getting Beth back more as she pulls her still-ringing phone out of her pocket and answers it without even looking to see who is calling first.
"Hello?" she asks, trying to keep her voice neutral.
"Blondie," the simple reply comes. It's Jasmine, the unofficial leader of their band of Skanks.
Quinn has to actively suppress a sigh of disappointment. She has been trying to avoid the Skanks all day. She has been trying to avoid everybody.
"We're hitting up the liquor store on Seventh and Jefferson. You in?"
Jasmine extends the invite as Quinn looks down to check her watch again. She doesn't want to see the Skanks, but what she wants less is to sit in this house by herself for the next several hours waiting for Rachel to get out of musical rehearsal.
"Sure," Quinn agrees. She shoves the DNA test inside of her backpack before flinging it back across her shoulders. Her voice is unenthusiastic, her heart not into it. Luckily, the Skanks prefer this level of indifference that Quinn has come to base her entire life around.
"Meet us behind the dumpsters," Jasmine instructs. Quinn hangs up the phone without another word.
Quinn isn't in the mood to drink but she forces herself to be and slips a forty ounce of booze into her backpack with the rest of the Skanks before sneaking past the old man behind the counter without question.
The drink is hardly more than $4, and Old Man Jones can hardly remember his own name, yet alone remember to card high schoolers, but stealing alcohol has become a hobby out of principle, not economics.
After they leave the store, they sit behind it in the alleyway. Jasmine is sitting on top of the dumpster like a queen on her throne. Meanwhile, Quinn is propped up against the brick wall, sipping at her disgustingly warm malt beverage slowly.
Her backpack hangs loosely off her shoulder, reminding Quinn that she has much more important things to worry about aside from getting drunk on a Thursday afternoon.
Quinn keeps the attention off of herself. Every time she knows that the Skanks aren't looking, she dumps a little bit of her beer out behind the dumpster, only pretending to drink it.
"Earth to Fabray."
"Huh?" Quinn gasps back to attention when she realizes that despite her best efforts, the entire group is now staring at her.
"You're in outer space today, Blondie," Jasmine comments. She takes a swig from her beer and it drains the bottle. She throws it over her shoulder and Quinn hears it shatter against the pavement. "What did you take before you came here? More importantly, why didn't you bring any to share?"
"I didn't take anything," Quinn insists, forcing another sip of her drink, trying to prove something. She is always trying to prove something.
"Sure," Jasmine smirks at her. She doesn't believe her, and Quinn knows that she is going to have to come up with something fast or else risk Jasmine demanding more out of her.
"I'm thinking about trying to get my daughter back," Quinn admits before she can think that maybe she shouldn't.
Quinn feels all eyes turn onto her. They look interested at the revelation, like Quinn had just provided them the bait that they need to proceed.
Quinn swallows against the additional attention. Her goal of the day was to keep under the radar, yet somehow, she had ended up doing the exact opposite.
"Where is she?"
"With her adoptive family," Quinn mutters. She almost mentions Shelby by name but stops herself. She hates Shelby, but not even she hates her enough to put her on the wrong end of the Skanks' radar.
"Adoption is overrated," one of the Skanks comments.
Quinn looks up at her. This particular girl has been in foster care her entire life. Clearly, it has worked out very well for her.
"Got anything in mind?" Jasmine asks.
Quinn looks down at her fingers and starts to play with them carefully. She doesn't want to look at these girls standing in front of her because the only thing that she can picture when she does is Beth ending up just like them.
The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that it is not them Quinn is afraid Beth will end up like. It's her.
"Kind of," Quinn murmurs, but she provides no further details.
"We could get involved," Jasmine suggests with a shrug. "I'm very experienced with delivering messages if you know what I mean."
Quinn looks up at Jasmine. She knows exactly what she means.
"I'll keep that in mind," Quinn tells the girl, but she knows that this is not an option that she will ever actually consider.
When her cell starts to ring again, Quinn finds that she is actually grateful for the distraction. She isn't sure how much longer she can keep on this topic without being forced to reveal much more than she intends to tell anybody.
Unfortunately, she cannot answer her phone fast enough to avoid Jasmine seeing the name Rachel Berry displayed across the screen.
"Why is Rachel Berry calling your phone?" she asks with a snort of distaste.
"It's nothing," Quinn says quickly, folding the phone into her chest. "We're partners for some AP Bio project."
"Why do you even bother with that shit, Fabray?" Quinn is grilled. Meanwhile, her phone drones on and on and on.
"I told you. I'm trying to get my daughter back. It's all part of the plan."
"Why don't you just make Berry do all the work and put your name on it?"
"Little Ms. Perfect would never go for that," one of her Skank friends laughs, sparing Quinn the need to come up with a good excuse. Sensing the need to join in, Quinn laughs alongside of them, desperate to cover up just how strangled the noise sounds.
"We can make her go for it."
Quinn doesn't know who makes the suggestion but the agreement that follows is universal and Quinn is very aware of the fact that every girl around her is starting to squeeze their fingers menacingly into fists as though in preparation.
"It's fine, just leave her alone," Quinn mutters, waving her friends off as her cellphone silences inside of her hands.
"What are you two like girlfriends now or something?" Jasmine presses, hopping down from the dumpster.
She stands threateningly in front of Quinn, hovering. Jasmine is nearly an entire foot taller than the blonde and her posture is ominous.
Quinn swallows. If the mere idea of being friends with someone like Rachel is considered a crime in the eyes of the Skanks, then how will Quinn get away with everything that she knows is to come next without them interfering?
"We're not girlfriends," Quinn rolls her eyes. She forces a brave face as she stares at the formidable Skank in front of her, trying to be convincing.
It isn't a lie. Her and Rachel are nothing. They aren't even friends. Rachel and Quinn just happened to be going through a period of emotional vulnerability at the exact same time. That's it.
But Quinn can't very well tell Jasmine and her Skanks that.
"I have to go," Quinn insists, shouldering past the taller girl. "I'll catch up with you guys later."
"You're going soft on us, Fabray!" Jasmine calls back to her.
"Maybe…" Quinn mutters, but her voice is low enough that only she can hear it as she turns down the sidewalk towards her car.
She hits the redial button on her cellphone, calling Rachel back.
"I'm home," Rachel answers within seconds. She sounds breathless with nervous anticipation. She doesn't even give Quinn the opportunity to say hello. "Did it come?"
"It came," Quinn answers, ducking into her car before flipping the keys over in the ignition. "I'll be over in ten."
It's almost six o'clock by the time Quinn arrives at Rachel's but it is a testament to the changing seasons that it is already starting to get dark outside.
The Berry's house is lit up like a Christmas tree. There are so many lights on the front porch that it looks like a stage. On a normal day, Quinn would have a lot to say about this but today, she finds that she isn't in the mood for jokes.
Hiking her backpack a little bit higher on her shoulders, Quinn tucks a short strand of hair behind her ear before ringing the doorbell.
"Well, if it isn't Quinn Fabray."
It is not the high-pitched, familiar voice that Quinn had been expecting, but the deeper, more mature voice of Rachel's father; the same one who had walked in on her and Rachel yesterday right after they had ordered the kit currently burning a hole through her backpack.
"Twice in two days, this must be a new record."
"H-hi, Mr. Berry," Quinn stutters uncomfortably, hugging the straps of her backpack a little bit closer. "Is Rachel home? I just have to drop some things off for her so that she can do her half of our math project."
"History," the man comments. Quinn cocks her head, wondering if this is some kind of a riddle.
"I'm sorry?"
"You said yesterday that the two of you were working on a history project."
Quinn coughs nervously, trying to buy her time to get her stories straight.
"We're in a lot of classes together this year," the blonde lies. "AP's and stuff."
"Of course." Rachel's father nods his head, but Quinn knows that he doesn't believe her.
"Who is it, Daddy?"
Quinn is just starting to think that she is about to be exposed when Rachel comes up behind her father to save her.
"It's your friend Quinn, Star," he answers, moving out of the doorway so that Rachel can see for herself. "She says that she has some things to drop off to you for school."
"I know. I called her," Rachel beams at her father. It is the fakest smile that Quinn has ever seen. She should know. She's the expert on fake smiles.
Her father, however, doesn't seem to notice.
"Well, don't be too long," the man warns. "You don't want your dinner to get cold."
"We won't be, Daddy!" Rachel calls after him as he retreats back into the house. She keeps that fake smile plastered on her face until she is certain he is gone. When he finally is, her face changes completely.
"Come on," Rachel whispers, grabbing onto Quinn's hand, dragging the blonde hurriedly up the stairs.
"Do you have it?" the brunette asks in a hushed tone the moment her bedroom door is safely shut.
"Of course," Quinn nods. "And stop making this sound like a freaking drug deal."
Rachel rolls her eyes but remains silent as Quinn flips her backpack over her head and opens the zipper. She digs through the bag for only a moment, emerging with the small box that she immediately hands over to Rachel.
"It's tiny," Rachel comments, turning the box inside of her hands as though that might somehow change its contents. Quinn nods but she does not say anything. She doesn't tell Rachel that this had been her first thought as well. "Are you sure that this is everything?"
"There's really not much to it," Quinn shrugs. "You just put your samples in the little tubes they give you and send it back. You already paid for the lab fee and everything. The rest is pretty straight forward. They'll send you the results in a day or two."
Rachel nods her head through a deep breath, but her eyes don't leave the package inside her hands. She is staring at it as though it made of pure gold.
"Christ Berry, the thing is going to be expired by the time you open it," Quinn accuses, snatching the package out of Rachel's hands. "It's a paternity test, not the directions to Atlantis."
"Will you keep your voice down?" Rachel hisses at Quinn as the blonde tears into the box. "My dads are right downstairs."
"Relax, the door is closed," Quinn reminds Rachel. "Besides, I, unlike you, am an expert at hiding things from parents."
Rachel sighs, but she doesn't question Quinn any further as the blonde dumps the contents of the box out on top of Rachel's perfectly made bed.
"Okay, it says here that all you need to do is to collect hair samples from yourself and all your suspected fathers," Quinn tells Rachel, reading off the instruction sheet from inside the box.
"All of my suspected fathers?" Rachel snorts. "This is ridiculous."
"Label the samples, put them in the pre-addressed envelope, and send it back in the mail," Quinn continues, ignoring Rachel. "That's it. It says here that the whole thing shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes. Are you ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," Rachel takes a deep breath before holding her hand out to Quinn. "Give me the first vial."
Quinn hands the brunette the small tube labeled Child and watches as Rachel reaches up and pulls a couple strands of her own hair out by the root.
"Now you just need one from each of your fathers," Quinn explains as Rachel shoves her own hair into the vial before placing the stopper over it.
Rachel and Quinn sneak into Rachel's fathers' bedroom. Quinn stands guard at the doorway as Rachel plucks hair out of each of their hairbrushes and deposits the samples into separate vials. Within five minutes, Rachel is handing a sealed envelope filled with all three test tubes over to Quinn.
"Will you drop this off in the mailbox on your way home?" the brunette asks Quinn.
"Sure," Quinn nods, tucking the envelope safely back into of her backpack.
"Don't forget," Rachel demands. Quinn only rolls her eyes.
"Of course I won't forget," she insists. "I'm not a complete moron."
Quinn lets Rachel guide her back down the stairs.
The sound of conversation is wafting in from the dining room. Rachel's fathers are talking amongst themselves. It sounds pleasant and casual and hardly fits the mood that either one of the girls is in right now.
"Are you girls all set?" Quinn hears Rachel's father - her other father - call to them from the dining room.
A whisper of a laugh remains inside of his voice from whatever him and his husband had been discussing earlier. Rachel seems unfazed by it but for some reason, it shakes Quinn. The blonde finds it amazing that despite their caution, despite their overprotective nature, they have no idea about any of this.
They will never see it coming.
"Yes Daddy, Quinn was just leaving," Rachel calls back to him but moves a little bit faster to shuttle Quinn out of the house before things around here can get even weirder.
"Okay, goodbye Quinn!"
"Bye Mr. and Mr. Berry," Quinn calls out to them as Rachel opens the front door.
"Don't forget," Rachel whispers seriously to Quinn as she pushes the blonde out of her house.
"I won't," Quinn promises. She really hates that Rachel thinks that she needs the constant reminder. Does Rachel really have such little trust in her?
The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that Rachel might have a point.
With one final nod, Rachel closes the front door firmly, separating the two girls.
Quinn lets out a sigh and lingers on the Berry's front porch for a moment.
She doesn't know why she is feeling like this. She doesn't even really know exactly what it is that she is feeling at all. The only thing that she does know for certain is that Rachel Berry is doing something to her emotional state right now. As fragile as that has been lately, for the first time in months, Quinn feels like she isn't totally alone in this vast expanse of the universe.
And despite how quickly Quinn knows she has a tendency to screw things up, she has a gut feeling that for once in her life, she really needs to work to make this envelope inside her hands count for something.