First: Thanks again for all the reviews. You guys are awesome. I am still shocked at the reaction to this story.

Second: The story and lesson behind it are not mine. My English prof had us read a speech called This is Water a few years ago. It kind of stuck.

Chapter 11

"Do you have your list?" Carrie asked me.

Carrie was our new therapist. She'd been recommended by Greg, and Rachel and I saw her twice a week. Once together, and once separately. Today was a separate day.

She'd asked me to compile a list of ten things I was certain were true in my life. It seemed like an odd request at the time, but for some reason unbeknownst to me, I'd wanted to please her.

I nodded slowly. I'm not sure if I did this correctly?"

She shook her head. "There's no right or wrong way. I just want to see what you have to say."

I pulled it out and began to read:

1. My daughter is dead.

2. I love Rachel Berry.

3. I am an alcoholic.

4. I want to drink everyday.

5. I am angry.

6. I blame myself.

7. I am scared to drive in the rain.

8. I don't trust most people.

9. I'm afraid to sleep at night.

10. I am afraid I will always feel empty.

I stopped reading and looked up. She was watching me. "Any particular order?" She asked.

I shook my head. "Not really. I guess I just wrote them down as they came to me?"

She studied me for a moment. "Why do you do that? Answer a question with a question?

I shrugged. "I don't know…"

"Okay," she allowed. "Let's look at the list. Which of those things can you change? Provided you want to."

"I'd like to sleep again." I finally answered.

"That's the first thing that comes to mind?"

"Maybe. I don't want to feel guilty anymore. And I want to trust people. But…" I shrugged again. "I don't know if I ever have trusted anyone. So I'm not sure that I can start."

"You trust Rachel?"

I sighed. "I'm getting there."

"And Santana?"

I nodded at that. "She's been honest with me. I just…" I broke off and looked away. I hated admitting weakness. I wasn't supposed to need anyone. "I'd like to feel normal around everyone again but… it's not going to happen. I know that."

She caught my eye. "And how do you know that?"

"I just do."

She frowned. "Why is it so hard for you to admit that they hurt you? Is it admitting weakness? Are you afraid that someone will realize that you need them?"

Yes. To a certain extent. I knew what she was getting at. I just wasn't sure I wanted to say it out loud. I didn't answer her.

She noticed my hesitation. "Okay, let's switch gears. How are things with Rachel? Can you see the future with her?"

"I dream about it. I love her. I never stopped loving her, but I suppose that's not breaking news, is it? I would like for things to… get better."

She nodded. "Do you think they are?"

"Sometimes…"

"And?" She prompted.

"And sometimes I don't. I feel like there is something or… well, someone… several someones actually, standing in the way." I answered.

She nodded at that. "Have you given any more thought to her proposition?"

I nodded slowly. The proposition she was referring to was the show Rachel was offered in London a few months from now. It had been a few years since she'd been on stage and when the offer had come in, she seemed conflicted.

"She wants me to go with her," I finally stated.

"How do you feel about that?"

Worried. Terrified. Anxious… Excited. "I want her to be happy. I think she needs this."

"And what will you do?" She studied my face. "This isn't about Rachel. It's about you. While she's working, what will you do?"

I shrugged. "I don't even know anymore." I was an essential part of Rachel's management years ago. It had made us both financially comfortable. I didn't need to do anything really. It didn't mean I shouldn't be doing something…

"What do you want to do?"

I looked down at my hands. I was embarrassed. "I've been writing some." I looked up and caught her eye. "I want to write," I finally said.

"Could you do that there?"

Easier than here, with everyone always hovering. The truth was… they were trying and I got that. I just wasn't sure if we were ever going to be able to put everything behind us. I wanted to. And to a certain degree, I believe that they did as well.

"I think so," I told her; mad at myself and how unsure I sounded. The truth was I was afraid of being alone. I knew that Rachel would be working long hours and… the thought scared me more than it should. I didn't want to be dependent on Rachel. Or anyone for that matter. I just didn't want temptation to sneak in. Every day was a battle as it was. But it was easier with the rest of them around.

"Well you don't have to decide right this moment," she said. "Let's go back to others for a moment. How are they doing with everything?"

The question was unexpected. "I… uh… I don't know. Okay, I guess."

She nodded. "You guess?"

"I mean I don't really know. Everyone was hurt obviously. I mean they've made that abundantly clear…"

"Have they?"

"Yes," I snapped.

"Does that make you angry?"

I sighed. "No. I just… sometimes they don't understand… she was my daughter. I just don't see why…"

"Okay, so let me stop you right there. I asked you earlier if why it was hard to admit that they hurt you. Have you hurt them?"

I wasn't expecting her to ask me that. "I don't want to talk about them… nothing I did was because of any of them. I just…" I stopped speaking and crossed my arms. I didn't know what she was getting at but I wasn't sure I cared.

She smiled softly. "Okay. Let's talk about happiness," she switched gears.

Just lovely. I nodded at her.

"Why do you think some people find it easy to be happy?"

I quirked my eyebrow. "Some people?"

She nodded again. "There are people who are happy. Surely you know some…" I knew she was joking, but it was a loaded question.

I shrugged. "They don't have a dead child?" My voice was harsher than it normally was where she was concerned.

If it affected her, she didn't let on. "Some do," she offered, flippantly. "Some have cancer. Some are poor. Some aren't any of those things. It's easier for them. But people… even people like you… they find happiness. Why do you think that is?"

"Ignorance," I stated firmly.

"Meaning?"

I took a second to collect my thoughts. "I think some people are too ignorant to realize that they should be sad. That things aren't always sunshine and roses."

She frowned. "That's a simplistic, and might I add, nihilistic view of the world, Quinn."

"Maybe," I answered. "But it's been my experience that the world is in fact both of those things."

I watched her face. I admired the fact that she was so professional. She never let on if I was frustrating her or if Rachel was being too verbose. She would always nod and just listen. It didn't mean she wouldn't challenge either of us.

"Have you ever heard the fish story?" She asked.

"Just keep swimming?" I arched my eyebrow at her. "I think Disney movies and their metaphors are a little mundane for an adult, Carrie."

She shook her head. "I think you're wrong, but I am not talking about that particular story." She leaned forward a little. "I heard it years ago, and it stuck with me. It was one of the reasons I became a therapist. I know that it's simple," she enunciated, throwing my word back in my face, as often did. "But I think that one can argue that sometimes simple is best."

I waved my hand for her to continue.

"Okay, so one day there were these two young fish swimming and they came across an older fish. The older fish smiled and nodded at them and said 'Morning, boys. How's the water?' The younger fish swam on for a bit until one of them looked at the other and said 'What the hell is water?'" She sat back. "What the hell is water, Quinn?"

"I honestly have no fucking idea," I muttered.

"Simple right?" She asked.

I nodded. And nonsensical, I didn't voice.

She looked thoughtful. "I've often found myself wishing I could take credit for it."

I watched her face and realized she was completely serious. "No offense, but why? I think I'm missing the point of the story."

She sighed. "I suppose you are." She looked at her watch. "Maybe you can think about it. I'll see you and Rachel tomorrow. Let me know if you figure it out."

What the hell? I was frustrated but I tried to visibly hide it. "I'm supposed to figure out what exactly? Why you told me the story? Why three fish can talk and nod? What?"

She shrugged.

"Ugh," I muttered, grabbing my coat. "See you tomorrow," I said.

She smiled at me. "Tomorrow."

When I got home, Rachel was sitting in the study with Brittany and Kurt. Santana was nowhere to be found, and when she wasn't around, it was sometimes more trouble than it was worth to insert myself into whatever was happening. I thought about just bypassing them altogether because I was still frustrated as hell about whatever the hell Carrie was trying to tell me. I didn't like not knowing or understanding something.

"Quinn," I heard Rachel call as I was walking past the study. "How was your afternoon?"

I suppressed my eye roll, and decided avoidance was impossible at this point. I found myself moving towards their voices. "You know how it is," I shrugged.

They were all three watching me expectantly.

"We talked about fish," I stuttered.

"That's… odd," Kurt finally said.

I nodded at him. "I agree. I think it was some sort of parable, but I'm not too sure at this point. She seems to like to force me to come to my own epiphanies about stuff."

Rachel smiled at me. "Was it a story?" She asked, like a little kid.

"Apparently." I smiled back softly, trying to push down my bad mood. "A short, incomprehensible one."

"You should tell us," Brittany said. "I love stories. Is one of the fishes a princess?"

I shook my head. It had been a long time since I'd let Brittany's questions throw me off track. "No. I think they were male. It wasn't long enough for princesses to appear," I smiled at her.

"So what was it about?" Kurt asked.

"What was what about?" I heard Santana call from the doorway.

"Q has a fish story to tell us," Brittany squealed.

"Cool," Puckerman said from behind her. "Are there pirates?"

I should get an award for the amount of times I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. "No," I groaned, sitting down in one of the chairs across from Rach and Brittany. "No pirates. No princesses. No stories. It was just an analogy for something."

"For what?" Santana asked.

I shrugged back to her. "I have no idea. She wants me to think about it. Let her know what I've figured out tomorrow."

"Maybe we can help you," Kurt offered, smiling. "I mean I doubt it because if you can't decipher an analogy, chances are the rest of us are out of luck, but…"

Rachel was nodding, excitedly. "Tell us."

"It's just a silly story." I answered. I felt self-conscious all of a sudden.

"Oh come on, Fabray, maybe we can help you figure it out," Puck prompted.

Maybe they could? I wasn't sure if I was even supposed to share it. Obviously it wasn't like I was going to be reprimanded for cheating or anything. Actually, Carrie would probably be proud of that fact that I discussed it with them.

"Okay," I sighed. "It's short. And there's supposed to be a point. But… whatever. So there are two young fish swimming along one morning, and they pass an older fish who smiles and nods at them and says 'Morning, boys. How's the water?' And the two young fish swim on for a bit and then one of them turns to the other and says, 'What the hell is water?'"

They were all watching me intently.

"That's it?" Santana asked.

I nodded. "That's it."

"Yeah, that's not as exciting as I thought it was gonna be," Puck said.

"I don't recall telling you it was exciting, dumbass." I frowned.

"I think it's cool," B told us.

"Well, it's not my story, so…" I shrugged.

"What did she say after she told you?" Rachel asked. She'd pulled her feet underneath her and gotten more comfortable.

I noticed that everyone was sitting back as well. We were actually going to fucking talk about this…

"She just said, 'Well Quinn, what the hell is water?' And then time was up."

Kurt narrowed his eyes, thinking. "So we have to figure out what water is," he smiled. "I love riddles."

I shook my head. "I don't think it's a riddle. I think it's some sort of moral and I'm missing it."

"So back up," San told me. "What were you talking about before then?"

I thought about that. Maybe she was on to something. "Why it was easier for some people to be happy than others."

They all seemed to be thinking. I knew there was a connection between the story and everything we'd discussed today, but I didn't know what it was. Or if I had the energy to figure it out. I wasn't sure a parable about life was going to solve my problems.

"So what is water, then?" Kurt asked. "That's the point, right?"

I shrugged. "I guess?"

B nodded at him. "The young fish they didn't know it was water, but that's weird cause they like live in it and stuff."

We all stared at her a moment. It was a simple fucking answer to say the least and yet way too profound to come from anyone else.

"So why don't they know that?" Puck asked us. "If they like swim in every day, they should know they're in water."

"Maybe they've never been out of the water." Rachel said softly.

"Probably," I smiled at her. "It still doesn't make any sense as far as why she told me the story. Do I not know I'm swimming or whatever… like I'm missing something?"

"What else did she talk to you about?" Santana asked. "Besides happiness."

I sighed. "Rachel's offer. If I was going," I didn't chance a look at Rachel when I said that. "What I wanted to do with my life from here on out. You guys…" I trailed off.

"What about us?" Kurt asked.

I shrugged, not really ready to go there.

B was looking off into space. San nudged her. "What is it?"

"I think I get it," she finally said forlornly.

"Get what?" Half of us asked.

"Why she told you the story," she frowned at me.

"Gonna enlighten us?" San asked her.

She frowned. "I'm not sure I should. I think maybe Q is supposed to figure it out on her own. And maybe the rest of us too. It kinda makes me sad," she finished.

We all frowned at that.

"How so, Brittany?" Rachel asked. She was hugging her knees to her chest now.

"It's just… I think she's talking about fish like maybe in a fishbowl or something. Like what if they've lived there their whole life. That's the only water they know. But there's a lot of water out there. And a lot of fish. There may be a lot of fish in their bowl, but they don't even notice them." She shrugged again. "They probably think it's like just their bowl or something. And not anyone else's." She sighed at that, standing up. "I guess fish are just people too. Sometimes, people suck."

"Where are you going?" Santana asked her.

"For a walk," she said. "I want to smile at someone I don't know. That makes me happy, when someone does that for me. I feel like making someone happy today."

And with that… she left.

The rest of us just sat in awkward silence for a moment.

I swallowed everything she'd said and she was right. It was sad. "She's right," I finally said.

"Well enlighten the rest of us, oh wise one," Santana scoffed. "Cause that just confused the shit out of me."

They were nodding.

It went back to my theory about sophists. How we all existed in our reality. We forgot about the experiences of others because we couldn't experience them ourselves. Every time I wallowed in my own self-pity, I was ignoring everyone else's.

I finally sighed. "I think B is right," I muttered. "I think we all live in our own little fishbowl."

"Oh fuck," Santana moaned. "Be more specific. That doesn't make any sense."

I started to shake my head, but I noticed Rachel watching me. I couldn't remember the last time she'd looked at me like that. She really wanted to know what I was thinking.

"Basically that we all live in our own experiences. We can only suffer our own pain. We can only experience our own pleasure. So, for most people, if they let it, the world and everything in it becomes all about them. So much so that they ignore everyone else around them. It's natural. We swim in our own water, so we don't understand that it's even there. Like maybe the only thing we know is that we are important. It's hard for us to be empathetic if we don't choose to be." I looked down.

"Oh," Kurt muttered. "That seems pessimistic."

"Kinda realistic though," Puck offered.

"Why do you think she told you that story, Quinn?" Rachel asked quietly. "Is it because of what we didn't…"

"No," I stopped her suddenly. "It's not about what you did or didn't do. Any of you. It's about what I missed. It's about the fact that I have thought my grief was more important than anyone else's."

She bit her lip and looked down. "So did I…"

I shook my head. "I don't think that's the point. I think what she was trying to show was that I was angry with everyone for blaming me. Everyone was angry with me for all the things I did. And I didn't stop to think about what anyone else was going through. I've been living in a fishbowl."

Kurt cleared his throat. "So have we."

They all nodded.

"I realize," I told them. "Because that's what people do. They suffer and blame and… we just all thought our feelings were the most important. I couldn't understand how someone could possibly know what I was going through. None of you were there. And she wasn't your daughter. She was mine and Rachel's. It didn't make sense to me that you could even understand what I was feeling." I frowned. "I get it now."

Santana frowned. "It sounds like you're blaming yourself."

I shook my head. "No. I'm not. Not at all actually. I finally figured something out…" I looked towards the door. "Well with a little help from your blonde Confucius..."

Rachel's eyes were brimming with tears.

I got up and sat down beside her. "Why are you crying, sweetie?"

She sniffed. "I don't want to live in a fishbowl. That's why I love that we are all here. Together. I like that we care about each other. I can't believe I've ignored everyone else… you… I'm just…"

I put my arms around her. "Rach, this is a good thing. It means we're learning. Okay?" I kissed the side of her head.

"This is why I think school is over fucking rated," Puck interjected. "It makes my damn head hurt."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"What if I smack you upside the back of it?" S asked him. "Think that'll help?" She jumped up and reared back.

"No, woman!" He squealed. "You are way too quick with violence. You should just give me a hug instead. A full body one." He wagged his eyebrow.

"You're a pig, Noah," Rachel smiled through her tears. She wiggled out of my grasp. "But I love you," she said, hugging him tightly.

Kurt rolled his eyes this time.

Santana smirked at me.

"Holy shit, Rachel," I whined. "I did not tell you that story so you could press your body against the resident perv."

She turned her head to look at me, still hugging him. "Noah knows better, don't you?" She asked, turning back around.

He nodded at her. "Of course, princess," he smiled. When she was looking away, he smirked and wiggled that fucking eyebrow again.

I cut my eyes at him.

Kurt surprised me when he wrapped his arms around me. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "This is water, huh?"

I nodded and smiled at him as he pulled away. "I guess so."

"Guess that means I've got to start thinking about your feelings and shit," Santana mumbled to the rest of us. She turned and smacked Puck across the back of his head.

"Holy shit!" He yelled, jerking away from Rachel and rubbing it.

"Santana Lopez!" Rachel screamed.

Kurt and I found something in common though. We both thought it was funny as hell.

"Yep," she muttered. "I'm feeling that that hurt you. I'm feeling that you are in pain." She turned to smile at me. "This shit is fun."

"You are an evil fucking woman, Lopez," he muttered.

She shrugged. "Nah. Just empathetic. I was feeling like Q was about to gut you like a fish. I was worried about what you would experience. So I was saving you from a slow painful death cause you were getting all handsy with her lady."

I shrugged at him. "Good thing she was here, asswipe."

"You know," he said, smiling at me. "I'm glad you're back. But now I'm gonna have to start sleeping with my door locked again."

"Smart," Santana and I said at the same time.

Rachel frowned over-dramatically at Kurt. "I guess we can't expect miracles to happen overnight."

He smiled back at her. "I don't know about that. But I just remembered how much I have missed one Quinn Fabray."

Rachel smiled back and turned to look at me. "Me too," she whispered.

I watched her as she put her arm around him. It used to always floor me that Rachel was so open with her emotions. I never understood why she felt the need to make everyone else feel better. Every smile, every compliment… I was usually either jealous or just completely confused.

After Eva died, Rachel stopped being so selfless. No one could really blame her. But I didn't realize that it was unnatural for her until today. For the longest time, I thought she was naïve. I thought she was ignorant of the way the world worked.

I was the ignorant one.

I realized in that moment, standing there, watching her laugh like I hadn't seen in her laugh in a very long time that she had the secret to life all along. And I was too selfish to see it.

But no more. I loved her. I wanted to be with her. And I knew that she wanted that too. I was not going to worry about myself anymore. I was going to choose not be the most important thing in the world. Maybe the way to healing was not so much about just making myself happy… that had never worked anyway.

Maybe the way to healing was going to start with others.

It was the first time I realized that I wasn't alone.

It was the first time since my daughter died that I smiled just because I wanted to.

And I didn't feel guilty about it.

I walked over to her and took her hand, pulling her away from Kurt. She seemed surprised and muttered "oh!" as I pulled her to me.

I winked at him, and he winked back.

And then I put my arms around her waist and pulled her to me. Before she could even ask me what I was doing, I bent her back and kissed her like it was the first day of the rest of our lives.

"Bout fucking time," I vaguely heard Santana say.

I couldn't have replied if I'd wanted to. I forgot what she tasted like when I was sober. She tasted like home. When I pulled away, I smiled at her. If felt good to smile.

She was standing there, her fingers on her lips, looking up at me with wide eyes.

"You broke her," Kurt laughed.

I turned to smirk at him, but I didn't get a chance. She jumped on me and I fell backwards against the couch. Her mouth was on me, before my head hit the cushion.

"And now you broke Puckerman too," S added.

I reached around Rachel, and shooed them with my hand.

"Right," Kurt said. "Let's go."

"Fuck!" Puck moaned.

"Perv," S's voice carried from the hallway.

If I could think, I would have wondered what he'd done. I couldn't form much of any thought though. I could only feel Rachel pressed sweetly against me. I could only concentrate on the soft sounds she was making against my lips.

She finally pulled away and I felt a rush of air pass between us. When I opened my eyes, she was straddling my legs, smiling down at me. "I have missed you so, so much," she giggled, kissing my nose.

"I've missed me too."

She moved off my lap and sat down beside me, putting her head on my shoulder. "Okay. Don't go anywhere ever again. It's too hard to be without you."

I kissed the side of her head and pulled her to me. "Love you," I whispered against her.

She snuggled into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "I love you. To the end of the universe. With my last breath."

My breath got caught in my throat. "You remembered?"

"Brittany told me. I've been waiting for a while to say those words."

I ticked her side. "You totally stole my line."

She shrugged, giggling. "It's a good line." She sat back. "You're the writer. I'm the actress." I knew in her head that that totally made sense. How could I not love someone like that?

I felt tears fill my eyes. Normally I would wipe them away. I would hide my face from her.

"Why are you crying?" She asked. She was panicking.

"Happy tears," I whispered.

"Really?" She seemed in awe.

"Really."

"Can I take a picture?" She asked, biting her lip.

"What the hell?" I asked. "Why would you want to do that?"

She put on her resolve face. "Because Quinn Fabray, as you well know I like to record milestones and momentous occasions for posterity and reflection. I believe this qualifies as both."

"Hell no," I shook my head, laughing. "You're kind of a dork."

She shrugged. "You're the one that loves me. What does that make you?"

I smiled at her. "Fair question." I kissed her again.

Lucky, I didn't say. It made me lucky.