Hey everyone! So, this is a bit of a long one, which is my means of an apology for the wait. I'm thinking that the next chapter is the last one for now, but we shall see. Thanks again to everybody for hanging around!
Chapter 16:
"Mrs. Berry?"
Shelby blinks her eyes slowly open. She doesn't even remember closing them.
She recognizes that somebody is speaking to her, but doesn't connect the name. It doesn't click. In fact, Shelby passes right over it and reasons that this person is addressing someone else.
As her eyes start to clear, Shelby notices a pair of legs standing in front of her wearing a pair of light blue scrubs. When she glances up, a middle-aged man with terrible five-o-clock shadow is staring straight down at her.
She blinks up at the unfamiliar man. Her head is still foggy with sleep and stress.
Things have been moving unnaturally quickly since the police stormed Darlene's home earlier. Just as seamlessly as everything started, it was over. It is only now that Shelby has had time to sit and think about everything that happened does she realize that something like this can never truly be over.
The police had questioned Shelby and the girls for a long time.
In that time, photos had been taken and evidence collected. Joe was placed inside of the back of an ambulance handcuffed to the stretcher while Darlene and Peter's bodies had been loaded into bags and hauled off by the coroner.
Shelby watched over Rachel and Quinn like a steadfast guard dog as they fielded questions from investigators with a resolve that made her proud.
They were told that investigators have been building up a case against Darlene for quite some time. They planned to use Peter to get to her. He was sloppy and had been on the radar of not only the state police, but the DEA for some time. So had his family before him.
In confidence, a police officer had pulled Shelby to the side to inform her that while the Gabbanelli family had certainly been mafia connected - as Shelby had always assumed - Peter Gabbanelli Sr. has been dead for over a decade, and business acumen seemed to skip a generation: Peter was skipped over in the succession chain of the family business.
Peter had lost everything to drugs, and instead of being at the helm of a prominent, well-connected family, he instead gave everything to Darlene Coombs in exchange for whatever high he could manage. When the money dried up, Peter sold what he could and worked as a middleman for Darlene.
Shelby remembers the shudder that had flooded through her when she heard what had become of Peter Gabbanelli. She remembers looking across the driveway where Rachel and Quinn were pressed close into each other, wrapped in the silver blankets Shelby has only ever seen in disaster movies, holding hands…
They may have come out of this alive, but at what cost? Shelby never wanted this life for her daughter; that is why she had given her up in the first place. She couldn't help but to wonder in that moment if tragedy, like eye color and bone structure, is somehow written in the genetic code.
"Mrs. Berry?"
The name comes again. This time, the man standing in front of her leans closer into her. His handsome features flood with concern. It is only then that it clicks for Shelby; he is talking to her. He must be Rachel's doctor.
"Corcoran," Shelby corrects, standing up. "Shelby Corcoran."
"My apologies, Mrs. Corcoran," he dismisses the error because he cannot possibly understand the enormity of it. Shelby forgives the indiscretion because there are more pressing matters at the moment. "But Rachel and Quinn are all set. You can take them home now."
"So, they're okay?" Shelby presses. The worry is evident inside of her voice even though she has been reassured time and time again that physically, Rachel and Quinn would be just fine.
"They're fine," the doctor nods. "The wound in Rachel's arm wasn't even deep enough that she needed stitches. We cleaned it out and bandaged it. The bandage can come off in a few days. The same thing with Quinn; she had a small cut on her head, but it also did not require stitches and we were able to replace the old cast on her hand. They should both be fine."
"Should be?" Shelby picks up on his lack of absolute certainty and her mind runs away with it.
The doctor smiles softly at Shelby's unnecessary concern
"They will be fine," he corrects. "I just need you to sign some paperwork and you'll be able to take them both home."
Shelby nods her head and pulls her lip between her teeth as she follows the doctor to the nurse's station where he presents her with Rachel's discharge paperwork. There is nobody in this hospital, in this town, or even this state who knows that legally, Shelby has no right to sign anything related to Rachel…
The woman does not allow herself to get hung up on that detail. Instead, she scratches her signature on the line that designates a parent or legal guardian. She is able to relish in the opportunity to do so for only a few seconds before her cell starts to ring.
The doctor excuses himself as Shelby pulls her phone out of her pocket. It's Hiram. Shelby had called him on the way to the hospital, but he hadn't answered. Shelby assumed him and Leroy were in the air and had hung up without leaving a message. She didn't know what to say yet. She still doesn't.
"Hello?"
"Shelby!" The voice on the other end is heavy and rushed. "LeRoy and I are stuck in O'Hare. They say there's a bad storm coming. We won't be able to fly out until the morning. We saw you called. Did you find her?"
He speaks a mile a minute. Shelby can hear LeRoy's voice whispering over Hiram's shoulder, shouting questions for his husband to relay to Shelby that he isn't asking quickly enough.
"I found her," Shelby nods to nobody. "And Quinn."
"Thank God…" the man breathes, relief filters deep inside of his voice. "Are they okay?"
Shelby hesitates. She wants Hiram and LeRoy to relish in this moment for a while longer; a moment where they have absolutely no idea that something terrible had happened to their daughter tonight.
"We haven't had much time to talk to each other yet, but they're fine. I took them to the hospital to get checked over, but the doctor just came out and they're both okay. They're getting ready to be discharged right now."
"What happened?" Hiram's voice skips a beat. He sounds unconvinced by Shelby's reassurances. Shelby can hear just how frightened he is. "Were they with Peter?"
Shelby hesitates and bites her lip before answering. "They were."
"Where is he?"
Shelby takes a deep breath and braces herself.
"Peter was killed, Hiram."
The silence that greets her is deafening.
"What the hell happened?" he demands. His volume grows in his fear. He punctuates every syllable. His voice is trembling.
Shelby tells the story slowly, without holding onto a single detail, but she can only tell the parts that she was there for. She hasn't had time to ask Quinn and Rachel what had happened before her arrival yet. A part of her wonders if she even wants to know.
While Shelby had sensed Hiram's anger with his daughter at the beginning of their phone call, by the time Shelby is finished telling her story, he sounds only relieved that Rachel is still alive for him to be angry with her at all.
Shelby understands the feeling well. She had spent most of her time out in that waiting room thinking about Rachel and her fathers, thinking about how she used to dream about Rachel's life in Lima, wondering whether or not it was good or at least better than the one she would have had with her. It seems likely that it was. The life that hadn't included her seemed to do Rachel good. The life with her in it was breaking her apart.
Shelby parts ways with Hiram and LeRoy with the promise to call the moment anything changes and heads towards the private exam room where Rachel and Quinn are waiting to be taken home.
She knocks softly, but does not wait for a response before pushing the door open.
Rachel is sitting on the examination table, her legs swinging over the side as she pulls her sleeve down over the fresh bandage on her arm. Quinn is sitting in the chair next to her sporting a few butterfly stitches on her forehead. The cast on her hand has been replaced as the doctor had told Shelby. This one is bright pink, which Shelby finds odd considering the black color of her old cast seemed more appropriate now than ever.
"Are you two ready?" Shelby asks the girls.
She watches Quinn and Rachel turn to one another, communicating silently. Both look terrified at the idea of going back into that big, scary world outside.
For the first time, Shelby notices that the girls' hands are clamped around each other's so tightly that it looks as though they are trying to break one another's fingers. They do not let up on that grip, even for a second.
Shelby nods her head slowly, a gesture of understanding and solidarity. She closes the exam room door behind her and takes several steps into the room. She doesn't say anything to them. She doesn't know if there is anything to say. Not yet, anyway.
Instead, Shelby pulls both girls into a tight hug, clutching onto them as though they were young children, holding them just as tightly as they are holding on each other.
"It's over…" Shelby breaths after she finally feels them start to relax, and Shelby watches them nod their heads, resigned to pretend that that is true even though all three of them know that this is only just the beginning.
A police escort takes them back to Peter's trailer because Shelby's Range Rover is now considered evidence thanks to Rachel's use of it as a weapon and they have to pick up Quinn's car.
Crammed into the backseat of the police cruiser, Rachel and Quinn fall asleep halfway back to Foster. They are tangled up inside of each other, too afraid to let go of the other even in sleep.
Shelby frowns. Only now that the dust is starting to settle in she really starting to wonder how two girls so young are supposed to move on from all of this…
As they pull to a gradual halt in front of the long driveway of Peter's trailer, Shelby reaches over and grabs onto the first body part that she can get hold of – which just so happens to be Quinn's knee – and gives it a hard shake.
The blonde shoots to life like she had just been slapped. Underneath her, Rachel is jolted awake.
"Whatsgoingon?" Rachel asks, her voice sluggish and indistinguishable in her sleep.
"Nothing," Shelby whispers reassuringly. "We're just here to pick up Quinn's car. We can stay in a hotel tonight. Rachel's dads will meet us there in the morning."
Shelby watches the teenagers rub at their exhausted eyes with clenched fists before blinking up at her. Their faces change the moment they realize where they are and they turn back towards Shelby, almost betrayed that she had taken them back here.
But slowly, they settle down. They untangle their limbs from one another and climb out of the car. Quinn helps Rachel to her feet before slamming the door shut. Immediately, the dog that is still inside of the trailer starts to bark.
"We can't leave it here…" Rachel insists. She turns to Shelby as the woman climbs out of the back of the police cruiser. Her eyes are big and round and desperate.
Shelby sighs. She has enough on her mind without having to deal with taking care of a dog too.
"We can call animal control, Rachel," she offers, but that only makes Rachel's face fall even further.
"Who knows how long that will take!" Rachel argues. "And besides, everybody knows that all those dogs end up being put down anyway!"
Shelby frowns, but she finds herself considering Rachel's argument. Shelby has no idea what is going to happen to Peter's house or his belongings now that he is gone, nor how long it will take somebody to come all the way out here to get them…
She cannot stand to disappoint her daughter anymore tonight, so she finds herself nodding her head.
"Make it fast," she insists.
Rachel brightens at the permission.
"I will!" she assures Shelby, and then she grabs onto Quinn's hand and starts to run up to the trailer, dragging the blonde behind her.
"And be careful!" Shelby shouts after them.
When Rachel and Quinn make it to the front of the house, Rachel does not hesitate before trying the doorknob. She is not surprised to find it unlocked.
She swings the door open, revealing the dark interior and only then does she pause.
"You okay?" Quinn asks, taking notice.
Rachel nods slowly, but the next time she breathes, it shakes on the way out and Rachel isn't stupid enough to believe that Quinn hadn't caught it.
The blonde frowns, proving Rachel's thought.
"You don't have to go in there if you don't want to," she assures the brunette.
"I know that it's stupid…" Rachel sighs. Suddenly, she is resisting the urge to cry and she hates that because she is the one who recommended they go get this dog in the first place. "It's just a dog."
"It's not stupid," Quinn shakes her head. For some reason, she can't stop thinking about that seafood restaurant she had been working in in Rhode Island over the summer.
One early morning Quinn had been standing on the dock waiting for the boat to come in with the day's catch when a dead cat floated up onto the rocks.
Quinn can still remember the way she had found that cat; cold and stiff. She remembers wondering if it had been somebody's pet or if it had been a stray, better off dead in the bay than doomed to a life on the street.
When the fisherman – a man in his forties who gave Quinn cigarettes and hit on her constantly despite having a wife and three kids – finally pulled into the docks, he noticed the cat too. He also noticed the way that Quinn couldn't seem to stop staring and told her that sometimes, things just aren't strong enough to make it in this world. It is the ones who are strong enough who have to live with that. That's how the universe works.
Quinn had no idea what he had been talking about then, but now she does. Her and Rachel and Shelby are the ones living with that burden now.
Quinn reaches out and grabs onto Rachel's hand, squeezing tightly. She feels the blonde relax immediately. Quinn offers her a small smile, and even though Rachel only just manages to return it, Quinn takes her victory where she can get it.
Rachel takes one more audible breath before finally pushing into the house. She never lets go of Quinn's hand, dragging the blonde along with her as she gropes along the wall for a light switch.
When she finds it, the trailer floods with light. It is cleaner than Rachel thought it would be, although Rachel would hardly call it clean.
The barking of the dog grows faster, more excited as Rachel and Quinn move further into the house. Rachel follows the sound.
She wonders what kind of dog Peter would have. She imagines a Pitbull or a Rottweiler; something trained to attack given the nature of Peter's business… Rachel bites her lip, wondering – not for the first time since entering this house – whether or not this was such a good idea.
"What if it doesn't let us take it?" Rachel asks Quinn, her hesitation prominent inside of her voice.
"It will let me take it," Quinn reassures Rachel. "I'm like an animal whisperer."
"Have you ever had a pet before in your life?" Rachel asks uncertainly. Somehow, she doesn't picture the Fabrays being particularly keen on having animals inside of their house.
Rachel had a dog once; a husky named Bella that her fathers gifted her as a Christmas present when she was two-years-old because they were afraid that growing up as an only child, Rachel would need a little more companionship.
Bella was a fantastic dog. She was the only thing in the house who could keep up with Rachel's energy level. She used to knock her over every time she came home from school and Rachel would giggle as the dog licked her face obsessively as a means of saying hello.
Bella and Rachel grew up together until Rachel was too big for Bella to knock over anymore and Rachel started sacrificing her time with her dog for clubs and dance and rehearsal time.
Rachel was in middle school when she started to notice that Bella was getting older much quicker than she was. Now, Bella wouldn't even stand up when Rachel got home from school. Instead, she would lay on the floor despondently and beat her tail once or twice against the wood and that was it.
Rachel remembers wondering if that was a part of growing up; you learn that people are usually worse than they are better and you stop wasting your energy trying to prove otherwise.
Rachel wonders if not learning that lesson as quickly as her dog had had been her downfall when it came to Peter.
"I have a fish," Quinn shrugs, interrupting Rachel's thoughts. "Although I doubt my mom has fed it since we've been gone, so I guess you could say I had a fish."
"That's not a very good argument for your case," Rachel points out.
"Why not?" Quinn shrugs. "It means that I'm gonna need a replacement pet."
They turn a corner where a rusty baby gate separates the kitchen from the rest of the trailer. Where Rachel had been expecting a ferocious dog, waiting to attack, she is surprised to find a fairly young yellow lab instead. The dog's tongue is hanging out his mouth, tail wagging back and forth like an out-of-control metronome.
Despite being a bit on the skinny side, the dog looks healthy. In fact, he looks healthier than Peter had. It is as though the man was making up for being unable to take care of himself by taking particular care of this dog.
"Aren't you cute…" Quinn speaks to the dog as she unlatches the gate. Immediately, the lab launches himself up, jumping all over Quinn in an effort to lick the blonde's face.
"He doesn't have any tags," Quinn comments. "And I doubt he's chipped. What's your name, buddy?"
The dog responds only by trying to lick Quinn's face again.
Quinn scratches the dog behind the ears before scanning the kitchen for a leash. Shelby had told the girls to be fast in here, but the dog looks hungry and they can't help but to sacrifice some time to dump some food into a bowl, which the dog scarfs down in record time.
"That should hold him over for a little while," Quinn comments absently, attaching the clip of the leash she finds on the counter to the dog's collar. "You ready to go?"
Rachel only shrugs. "Sure."
Quinn frowns at Rachel's indifference, which is so very unlike the brunette. She is worried about Rachel. She has been acting like nothing happened since leaving Darlene's house, and knows that such a tiny thing can only hold so much inside before she blows.
"Come on then…" Quinn sighs. It's not what she wants to say at all, but they need to get out of this place. Quinn doesn't want to press her here.
Quinn holds tight onto the dog leash while the energetic animal practically drags her out of the trailer and outside.
The police officer is still parked outside, waiting to send them off safely. Shelby is leaning against the cruiser, arms crossed over her chest as she stares up at the trailer. She looks nervous, and only then does Quinn realize just how long they had taken inside of that trailer.
"What took so long?" Shelby asks just as soon as the girls are within earshot.
"Sorry…" Quinn murmurs. "We wanted to feed the dog before bringing him out."
Shelby glances down at Quinn. Her face is light with disappointment and Quinn feels a sense of guilt consume her in a way that never used to happen when it came to Shelby.
"It's fine…" Shelby breathes, but Quinn can tell she doesn't mean that entirely. "Come on, let's get out of here."
The woman guides Rachel and Quinn towards Quinn's BMW. Shelby walks steps behind Rachel, her eyes never leaving the girl. Quinn watches the silent interaction. She watches Shelby's eyes express things towards Rachel; promises that she was safe now, promises that it would all be okay…
Quinn isn't sure that Rachel realizes this, but she understands Shelby's mode of communication intimately. It is all of the things a mother tells a child when she wants desperately for that child to believe her. Quinn knows that urge to protect; even when you don't succeed, you still promise that she would do so next time because that is all that is left.
Rachel settles into the backseat with the dog while Quinn drives and Shelby sits next to her in the passenger seat. The police officer escorts them to the highway and afterwards, Quinn drives slowly down the road for over an hour before Shelby finds a hotel for them to stay in for the night.
Inside, the attendant at the front desk looks bored and doesn't even glance up from her magazine when Shelby asks for two rooms. Instead, she tells Shelby that check-in hours are over and that she would have to wait until 3:00 the next afternoon to secure a room.
It is only when Shelby starts to argue that the girl finally glances up and gets a good look at the trio.
For the first time, all three of them realize what a mess they must look like because after that, the girl's jaw slides open on a broken hinge and she doesn't ask anymore questions. Instead, she gives Shelby the rooms she asked for. She doesn't even mention the dog that Quinn is dragging behind her even though there is a sign over her shoulder that clearly states: No Pets!
Rachel and Quinn settle into a room together while Shelby takes the one next door.
While the girls are unpacking their belongings and pulling their pajamas out of their bags, the dog is still running in circles around them, trying to emit some of the energy that he had accumulated throughout the day.
Quinn takes to calling him Vinny because My Cousin Vinny had been the movie playing when Rachel had kissed her last night, and even though it's not the most romantic movie in the world, and Quinn would rather forget the majority of this trip, that moment is one that she wants to isolate forever.
When there is a knock at the door half hour later, the girl's tense and look up. They are terrified of being blindsided by a stranger, even 90 miles outside of Foster. Even the dog seems to notice the change in the room because he stills, whimpers, and lays down submissively with his head between his front paws.
Quinn wills herself to be brave for Rachel's sake and stands up to answer the door. She peers through the peephole and recognizes Shelby standing on the other side. Only then does she unlatch the chain lock, turn the deadbolt, and pull the door open.
"How are you girls doing in here?" Shelby asks, stepping inside the room.
"We're fine," Rachel answers, only half assuring.
Shelby nods, but slips into silence. When Quinn looks up at her, she notices that Shelby is staring at Rachel again with that same look the blonde had recognized outside of Peter's trailer. Suddenly, she feels like she is intruding.
"I, uh… I'm gonna go down to the vending machines quick," Quinn announces, trying to make this easier on all of them. "Come on, Vinny."
Quinn whistles to the dog. Much to Shelby's surprise, he springs to his feet and pads alongside Quinn like the two of them have been companions for years rather than a few hours.
"There and back Quinn," Shelby warns. Quinn glances back at her from inside of the doorway.
"Sure," she agrees, and then she disappears into the hallway.
The moment that the door closes behind Quinn, Shelby turns towards Rachel. She places her hands slowly on her hips and glances down at the girl, who is sitting on the edge of the bed with her fingers clasped in her lap and her eyes trained to the floor.
Shelby has absolutely no idea what to say to Rachel. She is embarrassed by this, but it's true. The harder she tries to come up with something, the smaller her vocabulary seems to grow.
"Vinny?" she finally settles. She starts slow, meaningless even as she takes a few steps further into the hotel room.
The mother watches Rachel carefully as the girl's eyes finally tilt up to meet hers. They look wet and afraid, but she still somehow manages a small smile.
"Quinn came up with it," Rachel shrugs. "The dog had no tags or anything. She seems pretty convinced that if her mom sees that she likes the dog well enough to name it, she'll let her keep it."
"And she thinks that's a safe bet?" Shelby asks, slightly amused.
"I guess…" Rachel shrugs, but then her eyes fall into her lap again and she doesn't look back at Shelby after that.
"So, whose idea was the road trip? Yours or Quinn's?" Shelby finally gets to the point, settling into conversation as she sits on the bed next to Rachel.
Rachel swallows and immediately begins to fidget with her fingers.
"Are you mad?"
Shelby pauses. She has to think about what she is feeling right now and whether or not it would be right for her to divulge the truth onto Rachel in a time where she is so vulnerable.
Ultimately, she decides that the girl needs to hear it.
"I am absolutely livid, Rachel," Shelby tells her. Her voice is an axe. It swings straight down in between the part of Shelby that is Rachel's mother and the part of her that knows she has absolutely no right to claim that title and severs the fine line between the two.
Rachel releases a tiny sound that fills the space around them, but makes no other sound, giving Shelby room to continue.
The older woman sighs, torn between wanting to scream at Rachel and wanting to gather her inside of her arms and never let her go. She has never had to do anything like this before. Beth is far too young to get herself into trouble of this magnitude and for a moment, Shelby hesitates, thinking that if this is her introduction to parenting a teenager, she would rather skip this stage of Beth's life all together.
"Do you have any idea how stupid what you and Quinn did tonight was?" Shelby finally asks after allowing Rachel to stew in her uncomfortable silence for long enough.
Rachel still doesn't say anything. She is well aware of just how stupid what she did tonight was; after all, she had already paid for it dearly.
"You and Quinn were almost killed tonight." Shelby takes a shaky breath. She has to state this fact not because she doesn't think Rachel knows this, but because she herself still cannot believe it.
"I know, Shelby…"
"I don't think that you do, Rachel!" Shelby insists. "I don't think you truly understand just how stupid what you and Quinn did was!"
Rachel folds her lips inwards without a word. She can tell that Shelby isn't yelling at her so much because she is angry, but because now that she is saying all this out loud, the terror is seeping inside of her again, thoroughly and completely.
"I'm really sorry, Shelby…" Rachel finally sobs. "You have to believe that."
"I do believe it, Rachel," Shelby sighs. "And I am angry, but mostly I'm having a hard time concentrating on how angry I am because I've got about a hundred other things going through my mind right now, too. I'm relieved that you and Quinn are okay. I'm terrified of what almost happened to the two of you. I'm upset with myself for not telling you the truth sooner…"
"It's not your fault, Shelby," Rachel hiccups. "You tried to tell me that Peter was a bad person, but… but I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to believe you."
Shelby takes a deep breath and looks at her daughter. She appreciates Rachel's reassurance, but is still not as confident. Parents are supposed to be the one to make the nightmares go away, not to make them worse.
The first time Shelby had met Rachel, she had been so afraid the girl would have no room for her that she'd pushed Rachel away. It is only now that she realizes that it is not her job to prevent the tragedies and the missteps and the nightmares. It is her job to cushion them when they inevitably do come.
Silence swelters between them and within it, a chord inside of Rachel swells and finally snaps. The girl leans forward with a sob that settles inside of the pit of Shelby's stomach like a weight. Recognizing her daughter's defeat, Shelby lets her anger ebb away to empathy. She wonders if it is moments such as this one that qualify her for the role of parent.
Without thinking, Shelby wraps her arms around her daughter and reels her in close. She is relieved when Rachel doesn't immediately pull away like Shelby is expecting but instead, presses her face deep into Shelby's shoulder where she seems to fit perfectly, and even though Rachel can't seem to stop crying, Shelby can't help but wonder how this is all it took for her to realize that she had the raw materials inside of her to make a good mother this entire time.
"It isn't entirely your fault…" Shelby retreats from her anger slightly as she kneads her trembling daughter's shoulder. "I haven't exactly given you a lot of reasons to trust me in the past. This could have all been avoided if I'd just been honest with you from the beginning."
"You can be honest with me now," Rachel offers, looking up from Shelby's shoulder. Her eyes are wet and glistening and color is mounted high inside of her cheeks. Despite this, Shelby marvels that this amazing thing in front of her; this beautiful, compassionate, sensitive being is something that she had created; a beauty that had come out of something terrible.
"Are you sure you want to know?" Shelby forces herself to ask after a moment's hesitation.
Rachel purses her lips. The look inside of Shelby's eyes tells her that it is a difficult story; not only for her to listen to, but for Shelby to tell. Then again, if Shelby could be brave enough to offer it, Rachel reasons she can be brave enough to hear it.
Rachel nods her head strongly and watches Shelby take a deep breath that shakes the entire way out before telling Rachel the story that only now, the mother is realizing has always been the both of theirs.
Shelby goes into labor in the maternity section of a Macy's while shopping for a dress to wear to her family's Christmas dinner, which honestly, she is surprised that she is still invited to.
Her water breaks on top of the pile of clothes that had slipped off the clearance rack and by the time the ambulance comes, Shelby doesn't even know if she is crying from pain or from embarrassment anymore.
"I'm so sorry!" she sobs to the store manager as the paramedics buckle her into a stretcher.
"Oh sweetheart, don't worry about it," the woman smiles at her and squeezes her hand. Despite destroying some of her merchandise, the woman had been surprisingly kind. While waiting for the ambulance, she had told Shelby all about her own three children and all of the miraculous things she could expect once her own child came into this world. Shelby didn't have the heart to correct her.
The store manager waves Shelby off with an excited good luck, and the only thing that stops Shelby from telling her it is not luck that she needs but a miracle is another contraction ripping through her midsection.
The hospital offers to call her parents for her, but she tells them to call Hiram and LeRoy instead.
Shelby is not due for another week and a half, which means that they will not be expecting this phone call, and it takes them over three hours to get to the hospital because they had been in Cleveland buying items for the nursery.
They have been doing this a lot lately; traveling between cities in search for the best baby items with the safest, most in style material…
Shelby thought that that was a little odd, but it also gave her a sense of comfort knowing that her daughter would be in the best of hands with Hiram and LeRoy, who cared about everything from thread counts of baby blankets to stuffed animals made exclusively from hypo-allergenic materials.
Meanwhile, she didn't understand the difference.
Despite deciding to make a grand introduction for herself, the little girl inside of Shelby decides to take her sweet time coming into the world. Five hours pass and then six. Shelby starts to pace about her room trying to move the process along. Whenever contractions do come, she just grimaces and contracts her jaw until the cords stand out against her neck. When they pass, she releases a slow breath and a barely-audible groan.
She is eight hours in when a contraction comes that is so strong, it knocks her flat on her backside.
After that, the anesthesiologist finally comes in to place the epidural. With that in place, Shelby is no longer free to wander about the room, but that is a small price to pay for the relief it offers her. She is halfway to proposing to the man who had put it in for her when her OB peers her head out from between Shelby's legs and tells her that it's time to push.
Hiram is in the room with her. If they are going to put his name on the birth certificate, they needed to make it look convincing. Meanwhile, LeRoy sits outside in the waiting room as to not draw too much attention. Besides, he'd told them earlier, he was squeamish and decided that the miracle of birth is likely best appreciated when you don't have to consider the actual process.
As Shelby gives another almighty push that makes her want to cry, she considers that in the next life, she would like to be born a gay man as well so that she can have the option of appreciating this from afar, too.
It is over an hour after her doctor had told her to start pushing and her progress has been minimal. Shelby is starting to wonder how much more of this she can take. Sweat pours from her forehead and she can barely catch her breath without being flooded with agony.
As her body arcs once again and her face shifts from a shade of pink to red to bright purple, the nurse reminds her to breathe; this is meant to be a marathon not a sprint.
Frankly, the encouragement makes Shelby want to reach out and slap the woman. The last thing she needs is a reminder of just how long she has been at this.
The thought just barely crosses her mind when she feels a final burst of pressure and a sudden emptiness that is accompanied by the wail of a newborn.
Tears flood inside of Shelby's eyes. Immediately, she takes back everything she had previously thought about wanting to get this over with faster because now that her daughter's clock has started, their time together was officially limited.
"It's a girl, Ms. Corcoran," somebody shouts over their shoulder, but Shelby already knew that detail…
What she really wants to know is whether or not her baby has ten fingers and ten toes; if, when the doctor presses her stethoscope to her chest, her heart sounds healthy and strong and bigger than her mother's and father's put together.
What she really wants to know is if her child will continue to be this innocent, blank slate, or if the reality of who she is will be genetically programmed inside of her; bound to catch up to her in due time.
Shelby closes her eyes and tries desperately not to cry.
Instead of putting the child onto her chest, like Shelby sees happen in all of the movies and TV shows, the nurse hands her to Hiram. That had been pre-arranged; a stipulation of the contract she had signed stated that Shelby was not to touch the girl. They had to move quickly to keep her as safe as possible. There was simply no time.
Shelby hadn't thought much of that when she had agreed to it, but that was before she had heard the sound of her daughter cry out for her mother's touch. It was before she'd gotten a good look at the wrinkled face and flailing fists. It was before she knew how much the love would warp her, become a part of her, make her feel like every inch of distance placed between her and her child would act like a fissure cracking through the center of the Earth.
Shelby catches a tuft of dark brown hair matted to the baby's scalp, peering out from Hiram's elbow. Then, the little girl turns her tiny face towards her mother and looks at her with those muddled eyes.
The infant silences for a moment, considering Shelby like she somehow knows that this is the same woman she had just spent the last nine months with.
Shelby feels a gasp of wonderment escape from the back of her throat and then, just as quickly, Hiram pivots and she loses all contact with her daughter, and that gasp becomes a strangled sob as, in one breath, Shelby loses her child and then herself.
Shelby tells Rachel everything; from the day that she had met Peter to the day Rachel had been born. She leaves nothing out, telling Rachel their shared story with a brutal honesty.
Shelby talks until she hears Quinn at the other side of the door inserting the hotel key. She stares at Rachel, waiting for a reaction, but the girl is silent, wide-eyed, frozen in her shock…
When the door opens, and Quinn and her dog re-enter the room, Shelby realizes that it might not be the best time to press for an answer.
"Is everything okay?" Quinn asks. She senses the tension in the room immediately and can't help but wonder what she had missed in her brief absence.
"It will be," Shelby assures the blonde as she stands up from the bed. "Goodnight girls. I'll see you both in the morning, okay?"
Shelby walks towards the door. She isn't sure it is the right thing, to leave Rachel alone after dumping all that on top of her, but then she remembers that Rachel isn't alone, she has Quinn. It is likely that Rachel would like to confide in the blonde before she would her estranged mother.
"What was that about?" Quinn asks as Shelby closes the door behind them.
Rachel shrugs.
"Are you okay?" Quinn reacts to the brunette's silence. Rachel has been looking like a zombie for some time now. Quinn can't pretend that that doesn't worry her.
"I don't know…" Rachel sighs. Quinn sits down next to her on the bed. She offers Rachel a Twizzler from the bag she had brought from the vending machine, but Rachel just shakes her head.
"I just… I just keep thinking about everything that happened tonight… how I could have stopped it," Rachel continues after a minute without prompting. She looks over at Quinn, trying to gauge the blonde's reaction to her honesty.
"You couldn't have stopped it, Rachel," Quinn tells her. It is an automatic response and the wrong thing to say…
"I could have stopped it by just leaving Peter alone!" Rachel shouts. Startled, the lab scurries to his feet and rushes to hide on the other side of the bed. "Everybody kept telling me that it was a stupid idea and I didn't listen! I always have to get my way and my answers, and now Peter is dead because of it!"
"Rachel, Peter got to where he was on his own," Quinn sighs. Her voice is so calm next to Rachel's that it sounds almost obscene. But she needs to ease the burden of guilt off of Rachel because she is feeling it start to crush her too. "He made his own choices. His story was never going to be a happy one whether we came here today or not. You made a mistake, Rachel. We all make mistakes sometimes. Trust me, it's not just you."
Rachel looks at Quinn sadly as she blinks away some of her tears.
"Did you really think that getting Beth back would make a difference in your life?" Rachel finally asks Quinn after a lengthy silence. She watches Quinn deflate in front of her. It is obvious that Quinn had been hoping that Rachel would forget their conversation in the truck; the one that made Rachel leave Quinn and go inside alone with Peter and Darlene in the first place…
"At the time I did," Quinn admits, deciding that honesty would likely be her best route in this situation. "I just felt so lonely, Rachel… I thought that nobody could possibly understand what I was going through with giving Beth up. I thought that nobody cared about me at all. But if I got Beth back… well, she was my kid. She'd have to love me."
"What changed?" Rachel asks, and this time, Quinn doesn't have to think about her answer.
"You."
Rachel turns away from Quinn, her cheeks glowing red.
"Listen, I know that you're mad…" Quinn continues when Rachel doesn't say anything. The brunette's silence is starting to make her nervous. She is afraid that Rachel is still mad at her, and she doesn't want that to be the case because she needs Rachel as close to her as humanly possible right now.
"I'm not mad," Rachel sighs. "I mean… I was mad then, but I'm not anymore. We all know the things that we're capable of when we're desperate now, right?"
Quinn stares at Rachel hard and waits for an explanation to her morbid statement. She doesn't say anything because she can tell by the look on Rachel's face that she is trying to get the words out, but doesn't quite know how to yet. She watches Rachel's shoulders sink and her eyes turn to look straight ahead at the wall.
"Peter raped Shelby when they were in high school," the brunette finally confesses. "That's how she got pregnant with me. That's what Shelby told me while you were at the vending machine."
Quinn's mouth falls open. She doesn't know what to say to Rachel. What can you say to somebody who had just found out that their entire existence is due to something horrible?
Up until today, Rachel Berry's life has been punctuated by sunshine and peppiness and rainbows… Her fathers had worked so hard to protect Rachel from the badness of the world.
That fact used to frustrate the hell out of Quinn, but now that she knows what they were protecting her from, she can't say that she blames them much.
But what about Rachel? Poor Rachel, her nativity only made this fall harder, and this time, her fathers aren't here to protect her. Only she is.
"How… how are you taking that?" Quinn finally builds up the nerve to ask.
"I spent all this time hating Shelby for what she did to me," Rachel shakes her head. "I never considered what she was going through. I never considered why it had to be the way it was. I was only ever thinking about myself. I feel so stupid, Quinn, so selfish. I'm a monster!"
"Rachel, you're not-"
"Look at where I came from, Quinn!" the brunette roars. She doesn't want to allow Quinn to try to make her feel better. She doesn't deserve that. "If I was never born than Shelby would probably have her Broadway dreams. Peter wouldn't be dead. Everybody would be a hell of a lot happier than they are right now!"
"I wouldn't be," Quinn corrects her. Rachel turns towards Quinn, trying to gauge her expression for its honesty. She doesn't seem to find anything however, because she stays silent and Quinn takes this opportunity to reinforce her words.
"Listen, I know that Peter turned out to be a bust," the blonde continues. "But you can't live with these what-ifs that you have absolutely no control over. That will tear you apart, trust me. Besides, Shelby was a fucking badass tonight. Half of you might have come from Peter, but don't forget that half of you came from her too."
Rachel takes a deep breath like Quinn's words have actually gotten through to her. Finally, she turns her face into her hands and groans.
"I just stared at her." Rachel moans.
"What?"
"She told me everything and when she did, all I could do was stare at her like an idiot and now she probably thinks that I hate her!"
"She doesn't think that," Quinn shakes her head. "You've been through a lot tonight. It's a lot to take in. She knows that. Just talk to her."
Rachel nods her head. She knows that she is going to have to talk to Shelby at one point, but for right now, she has this one opportunity to break down before she has to put that show face back on and that time was now. She has every intention on taking it.
The brunette falls into Quinn's arms, allowing herself to be held.
"Breathe, Rachel…" Quinn begs.
"It's not fair, Quinn," Rachel only sobs harder. Her voice is choked and strained. She is not breathing even though Quinn only just reminded her to.
"Life never is," Quinn reminds her, and although it is not quite the encouragement that Rachel had been searching for, she somehow finds the words calming.
"I'm tired, Quinn," the brunette says, digging her head further into Quinn's shoulder. "I don't want to fight this anymore."
"Why does it always have to be a fight?" Quinn argues, but she already knows the answer; it is part of Rachel's personality. It is up to Quinn to convince Rachel that that doesn't mean that it's apart of her. "You didn't become who you are because of where you came from, Rachel! You became them despite that. I mean, look at my parents. They could care less about me. Meanwhile, Shelby and your dads went through all that effort to make sure that you were somewhere where you were loved! That's special, Rachel. You have to see that."
Slowly, Rachel raises her head off Quinn's shoulder to look up at the blonde. Her eyes are still sad, but there is a glint inside of them now like she is actually starting to believe Quinn.
Quinn has never met someone who puts as much thought into her expressions as Rachel. She used to think that that was just a part of her whole future actress persona, but now, Quinn is starting to realize that Rachel is just genuinely that intense.
Her eyes are starting to make Quinn feel paralyzed. Rachel is holding Quinn with her eyes alone, pulling her in, molding her like putty in her hands.
"Will you stay with me?" Rachel whispers. "Just for tonight?"
"Of course," Quinn whispers slowly to Rachel.
Rachel nods, smiling appreciatively at Quinn before sinking just a little bit.
"Maybe we should talk about something else," she suggests.
"Like what?"
Rachel shrugs. "Tell me about you."
"We've literally known each other since we were seven-years-old, Rachel," Quinn laughs a little.
"Yeah, but we don't really know each other," Rachel insists.
Quinn turns towards the brunette. She knows what Rachel means. Rachel might know that Quinn was an All-State Cheerleader three years in a row. She might know that Quinn has been counting down the days until she can move out of Lima and go to Yale since she was in sixth grade, she might even have known all the feelings she had been hiding about Beth for two years… But Quinn knows that Rachel probably couldn't tell her what her favorite color is, or what her mindless television preferences were, or that despite the whole cheerleader thing and the fact that her family has held OSU football season tickets since before she was born, that she preferred to watch baseball…
"I read the last chapter in a book first," Quinn finally tells Rachel, settling to begin with what she knows is one of the strangest quirks about her.
"Why?" Rachel raises her eyebrows.
"In case I drop dead before I can finish it," Quinn answers. "Can you imagine being left hanging for all of eternity?"
Rachel laughs shyly. She turns her eyes to the floor and tucks a thick strand of chestnut hair behind her ear as she searches for her own special thing to tell Quinn.
"When I was younger my dads took me to New York and I heard a rumor that Barbra Streisand was staying in the penthouse suite of our hotel. I snuck away at dinner and tried to get to the penthouse, but the elevator got stuck and I was by myself in there for three hours while the fire department tried to get me out. It turned out that Barbra was never staying in the hotel at all and to this day, I'm afraid of elevators."
"How old were you?" Quinn asks with an amused laugh.
"Three and a half," Rachel shrugs.
Quinn snorts slightly, trying to hold back a laugh at a story that is so quintessentially Rachel.
"I don't understand how you see the world sometimes, Rach."
"Maybe I can show you," Rachel shrugs. The blonde swallows at the suggestion, suddenly nervous, but she nods her head anyway.
"I think I'd like that."
Rachel smiles in a way that makes Quinn's heart flutter. Before she can think better of it, Quinn pulls Rachel in a little bit closer and presses a kiss to her cheek. She can literally feel the heat rising from Rachel's skin.
Rachel feeds off of Quinn's invitation. She turns into Quinn and kisses her back; this time not on the cheek, but full-on on the mouth.
Much to Rachel's delight, Quinn does not pull away. The last time Rachel had done this, she had, but Rachel knows that the last time was different. Still, Rachel pulls away just in case.
"Is this okay?" the brunette pants, wanting to make absolutely sure.
"If it's okay with you," Quinn nods.
"It is," Rachel assures her. Her voice sounds absolutely amazed, because she is. After everything that happened tonight, Rachel never would have imagined that her night would end here. She is amazed that she even survived, let alone is alone in a hotel room with a girl she has been gradually falling deeper and deeper in love with…
Rachel grabs onto Quinn's shoulders and pulls her down onto the bed.
Quinn hardly puts up a fight. She lets gravity take them until they are both lying on their sides.
Rachel tries to swallow her nerves. She isn't a prude. She had been dating Finn off and on for years, and although she never let him touch her like this, it isn't that she was so against letting people near her. Mostly, she just feels that in terms of experience, Quinn is miles ahead of her. It's embarrassing.
"You're shaking…" Quinn breathes, pressing her forehead into the curve of Rachel's neck.
The brunette nods, at a sudden loss for words.
Quinn takes her time and doesn't say anything. She isn't trying to pressure Rachel. If she wants to just lay like this for the rest of the night, then Quinn is fine with that. If she just wanted to be alone and asked Quinn to sleep on the floor or in Shelby's room or even outside in the car, Quinn would be fine with it.
But Rachel never pulls away. Instead, she braces herself into Quinn and holds her so close that their hearts start to blend into a unison rhythm.
The silence is peaceful, like the kind that people climb to the tops of mountains to experience. Quinn lets it consume her. She buries her face into the crown of Rachel's head and allows the brunette's scent to overcome her.
Rachel turns her head over her shoulder to look at Quinn, whose lips are red and swollen from earlier and brings a hand up to cup her cheek.
Quinn leans willingly into her palm, understanding that she has relinquished complete control to Rachel.
The last time they had been in this position, Quinn had to pull away for fear that Rachel had fallen victim to her own emotions. This time, Quinn knows that Rachel loves her. She had been frantic and heated one moment, and then, Quinn had blinked and she had settled into becoming gentle and coaxing.
Quinn has never appreciated the love and unexpectedness of Rachel Berry more. It is the gentleness in her movements, the look in her eyes, that scream of pure love.
It is the way that Quinn closes her eyes and listens to the silence between them. It is the quiet and the calm and the realization that she is not as alone in this world as she thought she had been for the last eighteen years.
And that reminder, she needed… God, how she needed this.