Disclaimer: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

AN: I promise, one day, I'm going to try for pure fluff, but today is definitely not that day. I don't really know what it says about me or my own life that I find it so difficult to write about people being happy. We'll see. I'm just going to say that this is angst. Like, I'm not even going to beat around the bush here. There is a major character death, and I'm sorry. It's just the way the story wrote itself. So, trigger warnings for that.

AN2: I also have some good news, and some bad news (depending on how you look at it). The good news is I'll have an update for Particular Taste posted on Tuesday (yay), and the bad news is it'll be the last update for the year (probably). After the year I've had, I think I deserve a little holiday, and the beach has been calling my name. We all deserve one, I reckon, though this is probably not a good way to start the holiday season. Again. Sorry.

You Are the Reason

Much to everyone's surprise, Quinn Fabray does not rejoin the Cheerios when junior year finally rolls around.

After her pregnancy and subsequent return to the Fabray house, it's almost expected that she'll reclaim her position at the top of the school's social hierarchy, but she chooses not to. They all know it's a choice, because Santana lets slip that Quinn had the chance to take back her position as Head Cheerleader, which she politely declined.

It's the word 'polite' that stumps a lot of them. Particularly when it involves a conversation between one Quinn Fabray and the explosive Sue Sylvester. Everyone wanted to be a fly on the wall for that conversation, but Quinn seems very calm.

Too calm, in fact.

"I heard she's doing yoga," Mercedes whispers to Kurt one day during Glee, and Rachel resists the urge to turn around and… participate?

No.

Scold.

Rachel Berry doesn't want people to be talking about Quinn the way they are, and she reasons it's because it's detracting from their Glee rehearsals. It has nothing to do with her sudden and inexplicable desire to protect Quinn. Anything the poor girl does just gets amplified and criticised, and it bothers Rachel that the former cheerleader can't just be.

Hasn't she been through enough? Doesn't she deserve some peace?

During their first Glee meeting, Quinn sits quietly in the corner of the choir room, a book in her lap and her content gaze on Brittany's face as the other blonde animatedly explains something that Rachel can't hear. Quinn is wearing a smile that Rachel's never seen before, and she wonders if it's just new, or if she just hasn't been paying attention before today.

It isn't as if they're actually friends. Rachel has no idea what the blonde got up to during the summer. A lot can happen in a few months, particularly after everything Quinn went through during what Rachel believes has to be the most trying sophomore year imaginable.

So, as much as Rachel is curious about this new Quinn Fabray, she's not going to speculate. She thinks the former cheerleader has earned her privacy… particularly from her.

Especially given that Rachel is currently and unceremoniously dating her ex-boyfriend, Finn Hudson.

Rachel's head turns towards the choir room door when said boy ambles into the room, followed by Mr Schuester, their Glee Club director. Despite it being the first meeting of the school year, Rachel is rearing to go because they need to do better this year. Rachel wants to win a National Championship before she graduates, and she has only two more chances to do it.

Given the talent they currently have, she's not sure this is going to be their year. And, given the club's tendency to 'wing it' when it comes to competitions, she doesn't know if they have the dedication and determination required to be sufficiently successful. Definitely not as much as she does, that's for sure.

Mr Schuester's welcome is, mercifully, short, and he's quick to hand out the week's assignment without preamble. Rachel, admittedly, is eager to get started and she throws herself into learning the new music. Several others are excited as well, particularly Kurt and Mercedes, because, as unlikely as it is, they're convinced this is going to be their year.

Something good has to come out of all of this.

Nobody seems to notice that Quinn doesn't say a word.

It's only days later that the blonde's odd behaviour raises any suspicion.

In fact, Rachel is the only one who notices the first of the smaller changes in her demeanour. They're subtle at first; ones nobody would notice if they didn't know where to look. For some reason she isn't yet ready to admit to anyone - not even herself - Rachel does.

It starts with the slow tapping of fingers. Rachel has perfect pitch, and her hearing is impeccable, which is why she hears it. Fingers tapping on a pale thigh, a steady rhythm that lasts for exactly three minutes and fourteen seconds at exactly nineteen minutes into each Glee meeting.

Like clockwork.

Without fail.

Rachel assumes it's a nervous tick at first, which is a notion she quickly dismisses because Quinn Fabray does not get nervous. Or, if she does, she's never been one to show it, so this 'tick' is somewhat alarming to Rachel. She reasons maybe Quinn is planning something - it wouldn't be the first time the former Head Cheerio resorted to scheming - but Rachel can't be sure. How can she? It isn't as if the two of them talk.

In fact, Rachel can't remember seeing Quinn talk to anyone when she's not answering a teacher's question in class or trying to make sense of whatever Brittany is trying to say to her.

Still, every Glee practice, the tapping continues.

Then comes the eyes.

Quinn's eyes shift from left to right every few minutes, as if she's trying her level best to stay seated; not to fidget or bolt.

To stay.

Her lips are next, pressed together until they disappear from sight entirely.

It isn't until a few rehearsals later that Rachel notices the slight shift in the way Quinn sits. As a girl who prides herself on perfect posture, the almost infinitesimal slump in Quinn's shoulders takes Rachel by surprise. Quinn places great importance on her appearance and her elegance, and this change throws Rachel immensely.

So does the slight thinning of Quinn.

She seems to get smaller with each day that passes, and Rachel can't tell if it's her actual body that's shrinking or her essence.

Both.

But, the biggest change - at least to Rachel's eye - is the way Quinn Fabray looks at her. It's almost as if she's asking a question she can't voice, searching for an answer neither of them can handle. As much as it puts Rachel on edge, it intrigues her. Quinn is almost pleading with her, her eyes begging for something her mouth won't say. Rachel can't seem to shake the feeling the blonde is actually asking for help.

"Do you think Quinn looks sadder than usual?" she finds herself asking Mercedes one afternoon before Glee.

"Girl, as long as she isn't flinging insults and slushies left, right and centre; I'm not complaining."

Rachel wants to berate her. How can Mercedes - who Quinn lived with briefly - just sweep Quinn's clearly evident sadness under the rug as if it means nothing? It has to mean something. The girl has been through a plethora of things that even some hardened veterans would struggle with. Teenage pregnancy and homelessness are just two things Rachel knows of. She can't even imagine what it must have been like bouncing from house to house, feeling unwanted, unsure whether you're going to sleep in someone's reluctant bed or the backseat of your freezing car.

Just thinking about it makes Rachel feel guilty. The mere fact Quinn is still here and still fighting means something. Rachel doesn't even want to think about how she might have responded if she were to have found herself in the same situation. She doesn't, for a second, think her parents would kick her out, but it's still a sobering thought... to have everything you've ever known ripped out from under you just because of one mistake you didn't even 'want' to make.

So, Rachel pays attention to the changes in Quinn, and they get progressively more noticeable as the semester drags on. Quinn is still a painfully diligent student, remaining top of their grade, but she isn't happy. She's the furthest thing from happy, and it breaks Rachel's heart. Because, really, someone as pretty as Quinn Fabray deserves to smile.

She answers questions in class with a certain air to her that's superior and yet not snobbish. She just knows, and she's not shying away from it anymore.

She also reads endlessly. It's as if she's reading a new book every day.

She's quiet and calm and she exists in the background to the drama of high school. It's almost as if she's trying to make herself invisible; trying to disappear into nothing.

It's heartbreaking, and Rachel is remiss if she's going to let it happen.

It takes Puck making a comment about his 'baby mama' for Rachel to figure out what's really going on. The Quinn of old would probably berate him, say something, anything. She would huff in annoyance, mutter something snarky or even roll her eyes.

But, this Quinn says and does nothing. She just gives him a look, and then returns to her book, her fists clenched.

The finger-tapping starts only ten minutes into that particular lesson.

And, suddenly, Rachel knows they've been wrong about their assumptions from the very beginning, because it's the moment Rachel realises Quinn isn't calm at all.

Not even close.

She's a ticking time-bomb just waiting to go off.

When she figures it out, Rachel doesn't know what to do with the information. What can she do? Quinn is falling apart right in front of them and nobody is bothered enough to look. To notice and do something.

Briefly, she considers approaching Mr Schuester about it, but he's enjoying the relative and temporary 'calm' of one of their chief instigators of sometimes unnecessary drama.

Better yet, Miss Pillsbury is the perfect person to talk to about this… surely.

Well.

Probably not.

No.

Next, she contemplates asking Santana about it. She and Quinn may not be close anymore - were they ever? - but she must have inside knowledge on what makes Quinn Fabray tick. But, even Rachel has to admit that nobody has a handbook on this particular version of the blonde. She's new to all of them, and nobody has bothered to get to know her.

Which is the main reason Rachel decides to do just that.

It's odd for her, though. She hasn't felt apprehensive in the blonde's presence for a few months now. When she fell pregnant and the school found out, Quinn grew… mellow, but this is something else entirely, and Rachel is flying blind here.

Still, she's going to fly... well, try.

"Hello, Quinn," she practically chirps when she arrives at the choir room to find Quinn the only one seated and waiting for Glee to begin. It's almost a sign from the heavens, and she's not going to ignore the opportunity to start up a very necessary conversation.

Quinn practically startles at the greeting and fumbles with her book. She blinks a few times, those perfectly long eyelashes looking heavy. "Oh, hello, Rachel," she says quietly, recovering.

There's that look again. Rachel knows she should be unsettled by it, but she can't bring herself to rebuff what looks like... kindness in Quinn's gaze. "Do you mind if I sit?"

Quinn gestures vaguely. "It's a free country."

Rachel bites her bottom lip as she sinks into the chair beside Quinn's. "That's probably the one reason it's so cruel."

Quinn looks thoughtful. "Freedom of speech?"

"There's no stipulation against hate speech, particularly when it's so easy to remain anonymous."

Quinn seems to mull over that. "No, I suppose there isn't," she murmurs. Then: "I am sorry, you know?"

Rachel turns her head to look at her, bemused. "What on earth could you be sorry for?"

"I don't know," she says, staring down at her hands in her lap. "Everything."

"Everything?"

Quinn sucks in a breath. "All the bullying. The taunts, the slushies, the drawings, all of it. I wish I had a proper explanation as to why I did any of it, but I don't. Just know it's never had anything to do with you and everything to do with me."

If Rachel is surprised, it clearly shows, and Quinn makes sure not to look at her face. "Oh, well, thank you, Quinn," she manages to get out.

Quinn actually smiles at her. "Why on earth are you thanking me?"

"I don't even know," she says, letting out an amused breath. "I guess I just never expected to get an apology."

Quinn presses her lips together, pensive. "I think you should have higher expectations, then."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Almost comically, Finn walks into the room right at that moment, and Rachel shifts awkwardly.

Speaking of expectations.

The boy is sweet, definitely, but there are parts of being a boyfriend in which he just lacks. He waves at her, starting towards her but halts at the sight of Quinn, who Rachel has noted has returned her attention to her book.

Thinking he's being subtle, Finn gestures with his head for Rachel to come join him in the front row. On any other day, she might consider it. Today, though, she's irritated with his rudeness and somehow drawn to Quinn's melancholy. So, without preamble, she shakes her head and blatantly ignores his wounded look. He's really learned to perfect it, and it's starting to get on her nerves.

It takes Quinn a moment to address the awkwardness. "You can go sit with him, you know," she says, barely a whisper.

"I know," Rachel says, shrugging. "It's just this chair is so comfortable, and I've already warmed it up."

Quinn arches a perfectly manicured eyebrow, and it's one of the first signs the old Quinn does exist somewhere in this subdued body sitting before them. "I suppose that's incentive enough to stay."

Rachel's smile spreads slowly. She appreciates having a conversation with someone without having to dull down her vocabulary or intellect. She's always prided herself on choosing to surround herself with people who challenge her. Admittedly, it's been difficult to do in a school the calibre of McKinley, but she gets surprised sometimes.

Quinn Fabray has always been a surprise to her.

For whatever reason, Rachel has always admired her.

Especially now.

Particularly now.

Quinn returns her attention to her book and Rachel is almost thankful for it. She suspects they'll receive raised eyebrows and quiet murmurs when the other students arrive, and she's not wrong. Still, she ignores it the best she can. Quinn is practically a professional at doing just that, and Rachel's still learning.

When Mr Schuester arrives and begins the lesson, Quinn closes her book and sighs. Her shoulders slump slightly and it looks as if she mentally prepares herself for what's to come. It's disconcerting, and Rachel doesn't know what to do or say. Quinn looks... disinterested? Dissatisfied?

Something.

And, like clockwork, at exactly nineteen minutes into Mr Schuester's ramble, the finger-tapping begins. Rachel side-eyes the movement, contemplating what to do. What can she do without sending this Bambi running and screaming into the world and learning about its cruelty? Her sudden and inane need to protect Quinn catches her by surprise, but she's determined not to hide away from it. She knows she's capable of an abundance of compassion - she's been raised that way - so this shouldn't be surprising.

And, yet, it is.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she reaches over and stills Quinn's fingers with her own. She hears a quiet gasp from beside her, which prompts her to squeeze the hand she's holding once, and move to let go.

Only, Quinn doesn't let her, and the two of them end up holding hands when Quinn's hand turns around, palm to palm. Neither of them lets go until Mr Schuester invites them to stand to learn the choreography for a group number he wants them to perform for Sectionals in a few weeks' time.

Rachel is reluctant to let go, so Quinn does it for her, offering a small, sheepish, and grateful smile. There's even a hint of pink on the pears of her cheeks, and Rachel doesn't think she's ever seen a person look so pretty.

Quinn steps up to the front of the room and stands beside Brittany. The two of them watch Mr Schuester carefully as he demonstrates the choreography, both of them picking it up easily. Quinn has always been a phenomenal dancer with natural athleticism and charisma and, post-pregnancy, it doesn't look to have faded completely.

Brittany is simply flawless and, when she actually tries, Santana is amazing as well. The three of them also complement one another well, with their voices and with their bodies. Despite the fact Quinn is no longer a cheerleader, the three of them are still a force with which to be reckoned. And, whether they realise it or not, Quinn is still their fearless leader.

Rachel can only watch as they learn the choreography quickly, run through it twice with no mistakes, and then grow bored. She imagines they've seen more complicated steps as Cheerios that this is child's play.

Rachel watches as Quinn receives a kiss to her cheek from Brittany and then returns to her seat to continue her reading.

When Rachel has mastered the choreography - it's actually embarrassingly simple, really, and yet the others are still struggling - she also returns to her seat next to Quinn. The blonde doesn't even glance up from the pages of her book, which doesn't bother Rachel as much as it usually would. Instead, she just crosses one leg over the other and settles her hands in her lap, waiting in silence… for all of thirty-nine seconds.

"We could probably spice it up, couldn't we?" Rachel says conversationally.

Quinn lifts her head to look at her. Her eyes flick to where Finn's feet keep catching on themselves, and then back to Rachel. "Sure," she says, which sounds like an end, but she continues anyway, surprising them both. "Or, at least have difficulty levels to the choreography. The Cheerios showcase their best dancers, instead of reducing everyone to the level of the weakest ones."

Rachel nods thoughtfully. "Mr Schuester would never go for it."

"We're never going to win with this, though," she says, absently waving a hand in the general direction of the struggling students.

"What would you suggest?"

"I think Brittany should choreograph," she says immediately, and Rachel's eyes widen. "Oh, don't give me that," she says, and there's so much Quinn in her voice that Rachel wants to jump to her feet and do a happy dance. "I know she may seem like an airhead, but her strengths are found in other places, and the girl is a talented dancer."

"I don't dispute that, Quinn," Rachel says, secretly loving the fact that Quinn is actually even participating in this conversation with her. Even her co-captain would have checked out a long time ago. Finn doesn't like to get involved in the nitty-gritty of the position he's been bestowed. "It's the choreography I'm worried about."

"Honestly, anything could be better than what Mr Schue is trying to punish us with here. Even I could do better than this."

A lightbulb goes off in Rachel's head and she, once again, has to curb her excitement and remain in her seat. She doesn't want to give away her motives so early in the game. "Would you?" she asks, forcing herself to sound hesitant. "Maybe you and Brittany could come up with something to show Mr Schue, and we can convince him to try something new."

Quinn stares at her, eyes wide and disbelieving. "Are you serious?"

"Deathly."

She blinks in surprise. "If you think Santana is going to let Brittany do anything without her, I'm afraid you're mistaken."

All Rachel can think is that Quinn hasn't said no, and that has to mean something. "So, then, all three of you can come up with something."

Quinn rolls her lips together in thought, and Rachel waits… somewhat impatiently. "It wouldn't hurt," she eventually says. "Just, you know, to have a backup."

"Exactly."

"Best to be prepared and all that."

"I'm glad you understand."

Hazel eyes lock on chestnut brown, and the two of them stare at each other for the longest time. It's a charged moment, and yet so simple. Quinn almost knows what Rachel is doing: trying to give her a purpose in the group; a reason to stay.

How could Rachel know, though?

How could Rachel know this is the one thing that will keep her in Glee?

Even as Quinn nods and bounces up to talk to Brittany about Rachel's suggestion; Rachel can't ever know this one act is the one thing to keep Quinn here at all.

How can she?

This time, when the changes start, all of Glee Club notices.

Rachel begins to sit next to Quinn in every lesson, her fingers ready to still movement the moment Quinn starts with her tapping. They almost always end up holding hands, which raises eyebrows the first few times, but neither girl seems to care because it's innocent comfort to them. They even brave entwining their fingers, which perfectly fit into the spaces the other provides.

Rachel starts to feel as if she is almost holding onto Quinn, keeping her from floating away.

She won't let her unravel right in front of their eyes.

She won't let her fade away.

It's only in Glee, though. It's only in the choir room that the two of them have found this… kinship. They talk sometimes, trying to outdo each other with words and facts. Quinn opens up about the books she reads, and Rachel just likes to hear her talk. There's something wonderfully melodious about the sound of her speaking voice, swimming through the air and filling Rachel's ears with a certain kind of music she's irritated she never noticed before. Maybe it's because, before now, Quinn's words were spoken with harshness and displaced hatred, and now they're affectionate, almost like a caress.

When Quinn and Brittany have finalised their choreography, Rachel advocates for them to showcase it. Mr Schuester would never dream of going up against Santana Lopez, so they're offered the floor to present, which they do. Some of it is simple, mainly for Finn and Mercedes, and then there's a lot of complicated footwork, which the best dancers pull off quite easily.

The flexible gymnasts they are, Quinn, Santana, Brittany and Mike even show off some backflips and splits. It's a good thing Quinn isn't wearing a dress today, which is already a scandal in itself. Rachel can't help staring at the way her jeans hug her body, and then flushes when she catches herself.

The dancing is amazing, and the group is buzzing with possibilities. Mr Schuester's arguments fall on deaf ears, and the group makes the decision to switch the choreography despite Finn's protests. This time, when Puck makes a dirty comment about Quinn's flexibility, she does roll her eyes, and Rachel's heart leaps up into her throat. It isn't as if the finger-tapping or the shifty eyes have stopped, but her posture has straightened, which is a step in the right direction.

The bomb's detonation has been delayed, but Rachel is wary.

Rachel watches her closely, and her inquiries eventually spread from Glee to the school corridors. Quinn usually walks alone, her head in a book or her eyes downcast. She just seems so small, like a lost child that Rachel feels the need to protect and nurture in some way. Her desire to stop Quinn's regression into… something starts to take over most of her free time.

When she isn't in class, in vocal lessons or at the dance studio; she's with Quinn. Most of the time, they just do homework. Quinn's focus is paramount when it comes to her schoolwork, and she's a calming influence on Rachel, even helping her from time to time, which boosts her GPA and offers them even more to talk about.

The problem is… Finn.

Rachel can tell the boy wants attention, and she tries to give him as much as she can, but he's not the one who's at risk of finger-tapping herself into an explosion. She can't give him the time he wants, and Quinn's guilt grows every time Finn makes an off-handed comment about not getting to spend any time with his girlfriend and side-eyes the blonde.

Rachel tries to placate him but, the second Quinn's shoulders start to slump again, Rachel makes the decision and breaks up with Finn. She can't give him a reason - how can she possibly tell him she's too worried about Quinn possibly disappearing in a cloud of smoke? - and he continues to ask and beg for an explanation she won't give. He gets angry enough to kick a chair one day in Glee Club, and Rachel doesn't miss the fact that Quinn flinches.

It's the moment she knows.

She doesn't know what she knows, but she just does. She bites her bottom lip to stop herself from launching at Quinn and burying her in a hug to hide her from the world.

When did this happen to her?

When did she start caring so much about someone who used to torture her incessantly? How did she get here?

Rachel steps in Quinn's direction at the same time that the blonde steps towards her. She feels Quinn's fist close around the fabric of the back of her sweater, and just the anchor of that movement is enough to ground her.

Somehow, they always seem to reach out for each other.

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispers, and Rachel just steps back into her, practically shielding her.

"Don't," Rachel says, shaking her head. "It's not you."

"It is."

"It's my choice."

She breathes out, and her breath tickles the back of Rachel's neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

When the group has managed to settle down and Puck has shoved Finn into a corner to force him to calm down, Mr Schuester resumes rehearsals. Rachel is suitably distracted by all she's learning about Quinn and, as soon as they're dismissed, she closes a hand around Quinn's wrist to stop her from leaving the choir room, and the two of them settle at the piano with Quinn softly playing a haphazard jumble of notes.

"Quinn," Rachel says quietly, sitting close enough that the side of her body is pressed against Quinn's. She just needs the contact; to make sure Quinn is really here and not some kind of apparition.

"Rachel," she returns, her fingers dancing over the keys as she starts to play scales.

Rachel just stares at the ease of her movements. She's obviously well-trained, and Rachel didn't even know how talented she was before they actually started to talk to each other. "Something happened today."

"Something happens every day."

"But, I learned something new about you," she says.

"You learn something new about me every day."

Rachel stills Quinn's fingers by taking hold of her hands and bringing them down into her lap.

"Do you know what it feels like to be afraid of your own mind?" Quinn asks after the longest silence, and Rachel doesn't have a response for her. "To know and feel things that aren't quite okay?"

Rachel can't say she does know what that feels like, but she knows that's not what Quinn wants to hear. She wants to hear that it is okay, but Rachel can't give her the confirmation she wants without knowing what it is.

Quinn sighs. "I was going to quit Glee," she admits.

"I had a feeling," Rachel murmurs.

Quinn lets out a slow breath, decidedly not looking at Rachel. "I was… going to… quit... life."

Despite her already-made conclusions about this particular unspoken topic, Rachel still sucks in a sharp breath. It's one thing to assume, and an entirely different thing to hear it confirmed. "I had a feeling about that as well."

Quinn swallows audibly. "I know you probably won't believe me, but you're saving my life, Rachel," she says. "Every single day has been this endless struggle of trying to figure out who I am again. I hated myself before, during and after the baby. I hate myself still, but it's more bearable now."

"Quinn," Rachel whispers, wishing she wouldn't say such things.

"It's oddly freeing to be stripped of everything," she says. "Your image, your family, your relationship, your home and your sense of self. And then it's even more terrifying to realise you're left with absolutely nothing because you're nothing."

"Quinn."

"Do you know what it's like?" she asks, rhetorically. "To look in the mirror of your baby daddy's basement, alone and in the dark, and see yourself as nothing?" She wipes at tears that are suddenly falling. "She's the only reason I even tried," she says, clearly referring to Beth. "So is Glee. So are you."

Rachel does her best not to react, even though the only thing she wants to do is fling her arms around Quinn and hold her close, protect her and love her.

"When my mother wanted me back, I stupidly thought everything would be fine. The baby was gone and my father was gone and I could go back to the way I was before. I could reclaim my position and rule over those who dared to pity me and laugh at me. I spent all summer working on my body and planning. I had it all figured out… until I just didn't." She sighs heavily, the defeat practically rolling off her body in waves. "I woke up one morning and I realised I was doing everything for everyone else again, and it broke me." She sniffles. "I've - I've been breaking ever since. I - I didn't think anyone noticed."

"I did."

"I know," Quinn says, squeezing her hands. "Which is probably why I'm finding things confusing."

Rachel frowns. "What things?"

"I told you I'm thinking and feeling things that aren't quite okay," she admits.

"Oh?"

Quinn bites the inside of her cheek, steeling herself. "Rachel, you broke up with Finn."

"I did."

"Why did you do that?"

Rachel swallows nervously. "I already told you."

"No, you didn't," she counters. "You haven't told me, and you clearly haven't told Finn either, which is - " she stops.

"Which is what?"

"Suspect," she finishes; "and confusing, and I'm quite certain I'm not the only one feeling these things."

Rachel suddenly feels hot all over, and she's tempted to run. Quinn seems to be alluding to something she thinks neither of them is ready for, and Rachel ends up saying Quinn's name for what feels like the hundredth time in the last five minutes. "Quinn?"

"Did you break up with him because of me?"

She sighs, deflating instantly. There's no use trying to deny it, because it's obvious Quinn already knows the answer to her own question. "Yes," she answers. "I just, I want to - "

"To what?"

"I want to protect you and make sure you stay," she confesses. "I won't have you quitting life, Quinn. I won't let you, and that requires time. It requires me to be here. So, I won't let you go. Not if I can do something about it, and I like to think I would do anything and everything required to make sure I get to keep you. Everybody else and everything else doesn't matter."

"Rachel," she breathes, finally looking at her. "I don't want you to have to make sacrifices for me."

"I'm not sacrificing anything," she immediately says, trying to ignore the fact that Quinn hasn't declared that she's staying. She hasn't said much to ease Rachel's worries at all. "This is a conscious choice I've made to put you first. And, plus, it's unlikely Finn and I would have lasted much longer anyway."

"Why?"

Before Rachel automatically responds, she just manages to snap her mouth shut without giving away her conflicting feelings. "Umm," she starts. "Just, reasons."

She blinks. "Me?"

Rachel sighs once again. It feels as if they're learning so much, and yet still going around in circles. "You, Quinn," she finally admits. "Definitely, you."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I care about you in a big, profound way, and I would really appreciate it if you would stick around so I can take the time to figure it all out," she says, meeting her gaze and holding it. "For me, and for you. I want you here, Quinn. I... need you here."

Quinn's fingers squeeze Rachel's, half in comfort and the other to get her to stop talking. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I just want you to know I'm trying," she whispers.

Rachel leans towards her and presses a gentle kiss against the smooth skin of her cheek. "And, you should know that I don't intend to let you go through any of it alone."

Quinn's sudden and beautiful blush is response enough for Rachel, but then she says words that force the breath from Rachel's lungs. "Just, promise you won't hate me if I fail."

It burns Rachel to say the words, but she eventually agrees. "I promise."

When the changes happen this time, nobody notices.

It's good, too, because Rachel worries that too much scrutiny would hinder Quinn's progress, or regression. She needs the blonde to come back to her. To stay with her. She needs Quinn to get to a point where the finger-tapping stops, and they're still dealing with the shifty eyes. She needs Quinn to stop looking for an escape, and she's unsure how to do that without completely losing her.

As surprising as it is, Sectionals goes off without incident, the New Directions easily placing first and securing their spot at Regionals. For Rachel, who's given so much of her time and life to Glee and her voice, the victory pales in comparison to the smile Quinn gives her after they share a congratulatory hug that lasts a little too long to be strictly friendly.

"We won," Quinn says, breathless.

"We did," Rachel echoes, and then Brittany is dragging Quinn into a hug, and Rachel feels both the loss and sudden giddiness bubble in her chest.

They won.

Rachel can't help feeling as if she's won more than a show choir competition. All she has to do is look over Noah's strong shoulder to find Quinn staring back at her, and she knows that every sacrifice has been worth it, in every facet of her young life.

"We have to celebrate," Mercedes declares, and most are quick to agree. "Breadstix, or are we hitting up someone's house?"

Noah raises his hand. "My house."

Rachel, somehow, finds her way back to Quinn, and the girls share the kind of smile that speaks volumes of the relationship they now have. It's almost automatic the way Rachel's hand slides into Quinn's, and she leans into her. "Do you want to go?" she asks quietly.

"What happens if I say no?"

"We'll go to my house," she says. "We can watch movies and eat popcorn and - "

"That sounds so much better," Quinn interrupts. "A lot better, actually."

Rachel beams at her. "Really?"

Quinn nods. "Really."

It's assumed they'll all congregate back at Noah's house when they return to Lima, but neither girl corrects the assumption. Instead, they leave the school's parking lot together, stop to get pizza, and then head to Rachel's house for a relaxing afternoon.

Or, well, it would be relaxing if they don't encounter Rachel's parents.

It's not even that her fathers don't like Quinn. They actually adore her, which Rachel realises must be part of the problem. The way they shower both girls with praises when they tell them they won; the way they hug so freely and tease and laugh, it all manifests in the dimming of Quinn's eyes, and Rachel realises she's thinking about her own family.

Her family, who kicked her out and abandoned her. Her family, who will probably never be this way again, if they ever were.

It takes Rachel a while to coax Quinn back to her. They're actually almost through the entire first movie by the time Quinn's eyes stop trying to look for an escape. They're lying on her bed, the movie playing on her laptop. Quinn's gaze is on the screen, but Rachel is watching her, taking in her features and wondering how it's taken her so long to realise how pretty Quinn is.

Quinn eventually looks at her, a tiny smile on her face. "Rachel," she whispers.

"Hmm?"

"You're staring at me."

Rachel doesn't look away. "Am I?"

Quinn blushes. "Watch your movie."

"I've seen it before."

Quinn rolls her eyes, shifting into a more comfortable position. "I'm pretty sure you've seen me before, too," she points out.

Rachel hums, and looks at the screen. "That's where you're wrong, Quinn," she says almost offhandedly. "I feel as if I'm seeing you for the first time."

Despite her wariness at exposing Quinn to her loving, doting parents, Rachel still invites Quinn over for her birthday dinner. It's just the four of them, mainly because having anyone else over from the Glee club is too stressful.

Well.

Having Quinn over is stressful enough, but Rachel is pleasantly surprised by how present Quinn is. She's dressed simply, in a baby yellow dress (yellow's Rachel's favourite colour), a denim jacket and white Chucks. It's a perfect blend of the old and new Quinn, and Rachel knows, without a doubt, that every decision she's made when it comes to Quinn has been the right one.

Quinn's smile is easy, true and shining in her eyes, and Rachel keeps asking herself why she can't keep herself from staring at her. Quinn is honestly the most stunning human being Rachel has ever seen. It's really as simple as that.

Quinn has a small gift bag with her when she arrives, and it's a test of Rachel's patience not to open it immediately. She sits through dinner, coffee and cake without bringing the gift up, and she's so relieved when her father, Hiram, brings out the gifts.

Rachel doesn't even care about the vouchers and sheet music and new hair straightener her parents get for her, because Quinn gets her something infinitely better.

Really, Quinn could have got her just herself, and Rachel would be happy.

But, well, Quinn actually buys her a new iPod Touch, which is already filled with Quinn's favourite music, that she wants to share with Rachel. The entire thing is unexpected and so lovely, and Rachel throws her arms around Quinn, giving in to her desire to hug and hold onto Quinn for an extended period of time.

It's the first night Quinn sleeps over, both girls falling asleep on Rachel's bed to the sound of Quinn's music playing. Rachel wouldn't be able to say what it changes for them, but it changes something very significant.

All she knows is it would be devastating if Quinn ever let go now.

It happens around Quinn's birthday, just days before she turns seventeen. Rachel doesn't notice at first, because they've been rehearsing quite incessantly for Regionals, and she's almost driving her own self crazy.

Quinn is already a quiet person, so it's worrying when she grows even more silent.

The finger-tapping, shifty eyes and slumped shoulders are suddenly back in full force, and Rachel stares at her when she notices, eyes wide and questions on the tip of her tongue.

She holds them back until Glee has ended, and she and Quinn are seated at the piano, Quinn's fingers pounding rather heavily on the keys. It's some kind of theme music, Rachel thinks, but she doesn't quite figure out what's going on until Quinn speaks.

"It's my first birthday without her."

Rachel remains silent, giving Quinn the silent permission to confess what's plaguing her mind, and so affecting her body and mood.

"I know I spent so many without her before, but, last year, she was the only one with me, and now - " she stops. "I don't know, Rach. Sometimes, I just feel so... lonely."

Rachel feels the pang in her chest, hurt that she hasn't been enough for Quinn, but understanding it has little to do with her, anyway.

"I'm sorry," Quinn says, and her voice catches. "I'm so sorry, Rachel."

Rachel reaches for her, one hand in her hair and the other around her arm, confusion in her eyes. "Quinn, honey, what's wrong? Why are you sorry?"

"I'm trying so hard," she forces out, keeping her eyes focused on her hands. "I don't even know what I'm doing half the time."

Rachel leans in closer. "And, the other half?"

"I'm with you."

Rachel closes her eyes, resting her forehead against Quinn's cheekbone. "You're with me," she echoes softly.

"I don't want to hurt you," Quinn whispers.

"Then, don't," Rachel says. "Don't hurt me, Quinn." She breathes out. "Stay."

Quinn lets out what sounds like a whimper, and Rachel adjusts her hold, her left arm holding Quinn's neck, and her right one stretching around her waist.

"You deserve more," Quinn says. "You deserve better. I'm nothing. I have nothing, and I'm just going to ruin you. I've destroyed everything else. You should just stay away from me."

"Quinn, please don't say that," Rachel says, and she would beg if she weren't already so heartbroken. "Please."

"I'm sorry," Quinn says.

"I like being here with you," Rachel continues. "You're honestly my favourite person in the world, and I don't want to be with anybody else right now, okay? Just you. Only you. Now, will you please just stop trying to push me away and accept that I care about you, and I want to - mmph - " she stops, her ramble suddenly cut off by the press of lips against hers.

It's a hesitant kiss that lasts barely a few seconds, because Quinn pulls away almost immediately, her eyes wide in panic.

"Oh, God," she squeaks, tapping her fingers endlessly on the tops of her own thighs. "I'm so sorry, Rachel. I just - "

"Quinn," Rachel says, breathing out a laugh, because, wow, that is not how she saw her day playing out. "If I knew you would be receptive to a kiss, I can assure you I would have done so a long time ago."

Quinn just stares at her, dumbfounded. "You would?"

"Definitely."

"Oh."

Rachel shifts slightly, releasing her hold on Quinn's body and rather reaching for her hands and pressing them against her own abdomen. "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."

"You have?"

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "Are you really asking me that question?"

Quinn blinks. "I guess not," she confesses with the tiniest smile.

Rachel smiles wider in return, squeezing Quinn's warm hands and breathing in. "I'm going to kiss you again."

Quinn arches one of her eyebrows. "If I recall correctly, I'm the one who kissed you."

"Are you going to do it again?"

Quinn takes a deep breath, as if steeling herself, and then leans in again, her lips pressing against Rachel's for just the second time in her life, and she really doesn't want it to be the last. The thought should terrify her, but Rachel is kissing her back, and her mind goes blank for the first time since she was in the hospital and bidding goodbye to the only person who could have loved her unconditionally.

Rachel tugs on Quinn's hands before releasing them, her left hand returning to soft blonde hair, absently urging Quinn closer and deepening the kiss.

Fireworks.

There are fireworks everywhere: behind her eyelids, on the tip of her tongue, in the cavity of her chest and low in her belly.

She wants.

Oh, how she wants.

"Quinn," Rachel murmurs against her lips, tugging softly on Quinn's hair. The name from her lips brings Quinn closer, the hand now on her thigh tightening, and Rachel thinks she sees stars.

She's never been kissed so thoroughly before. It's as if Quinn has set her tongue on some kind of exploration mission, and Rachel's mouth is undiscovered territory.

When breathing properly becomes vital, Rachel breaks away, sucking in much-needed air, and then gasping when Quinn's lips trail along her jaw and then down the length of her throat.

Okay.

Wow, okay.

"Quinn," she says again, and Quinn hums against her skin. "I don't know what your other birthdays were like, but, if you'll let me, I want to make this your best one ever."

Quinn pulls back to look her right in the eye, her gaze dark and haunted, and Rachel can't help wondering if she's said the wrong thing. "I don't know what I've done to deserve you," she says, sounding breathless. "Why are you so nice to me?"

Rachel smiles softly. "I'm nice to lots of people, Quinn," she says. "I assure you it's not just you."

Quinn blinks cutely, frowning slightly.

"I care about you," Rachel says. "I care about you so much." She swallows, the confession on the tip of her tongue. "I cared about you long before I wanted to kiss you. I don't want you to think you're unworthy of it. I don't want you to find me selfish for wanting you here, with me, for forever."

Quinn kisses her again, slowly and deeply, and Rachel feels herself unravel in the best and worst ways. She could kiss her forever.

"I'm trying," Quinn says again, keeping her eyes closed as she presses her forehead against Rachel's. She's breathing heavily, looking slightly pained. "I don't want to make promises I can't keep, Rachel, but the last thing I want to do is hurt you."

"Just, stay," Rachel says, and there's a certain desperation in her voice that catches her by surprise. She can't bear the thought of losing Quinn, in any way, especially when she's on the brink of having her. "Please. Just stay with me. We'll figure out everything else."

Quinn looks troubled, lost and a little dazed. "I'm sorry," she says.

"Quinn, please."

Quinn says nothing; just kisses her once more, and they say nothing more about it.

The next change is immediate.

During the next Glee lesson, Rachel reaches for Quinn's hand before the finger-tapping actually begins. Quinn glances at her, a tiny smile on her face, and Rachel feels her heart swell in her chest.

It threatens to explode when Quinn's thumb rubs over the back of her hand, and Rachel is so tempted to reach over and kiss her.

Because, well, they do that now. They still haven't talked about it the way they probably should, but Rachel reasons the kissing is really the least of their problems.

Plus, she kind of has an entire birthday to plan.

She knows Quinn won't want anything over-the-top. She definitely won't want Rachel drawing attention to the day or making a spectacle of it, so Rachel will have to make this an exercise in restraint.

It's difficult, but she just about manages it, leaving a heartfelt card in Quinn's locker on the day and being rewarded with a tiny, happy smile and a sweet, gorgeous blush.

Well, that's before Quinn drags her into a dark classroom between classes and kisses the air right out of her lungs. Rachel should expect it, maybe, but she's still left speechless and panting when Quinn says, "You are the most unexpected part of my stupid life."

Rachel kisses her again, her fingers threading through Quinn's hair and tugging her closer. It's frantic and passionate, full of lips and teeth and tongues, and Rachel has never kissed or been kissed this way. So thoroughly; so wholeheartedly.

Quinn pulls back, breathing heavily. "This is already the best birthday of my life."

Rachel finds way too much satisfaction in saying, "It's nowhere near over yet, Fabray."

For lunch, Rachel swaps out whatever Quinn's brought from home for the blonde's favourite meal: a bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries. It's still warm, and Quinn looks at her as if she hangs the moon.

"How?" she asks, her eyes wide and her mouth watering.

"Birthday magic," Rachel says in response, and then nudges her to get eating. "Go on, Gorgeous."

Quinn grins at her, a little wide-eyed. "Gorgeous, huh?"

Rachel blushes, but maintains eye contact. "Too much?"

Quinn winces. "I don't... hate it," she says. "But, I don't think it's really me."

Rachel leans closer to her. "Beautiful, then?"

Quinn drops her gaze, smiling bashfully. "Thank you for my burger," she says quietly. "And my card. And the day as a whole."

Rachel wants to remind her the day isn't over, but she rather just smiles and says, "You're welcome, Quinn."

As far as birthdays go, Rachel thinks she surprises Quinn quite substantially. It's not a Glee day, but she still drags Quinn to the auditorium after school lets out, forces her into a seat, and then -

Well, for a moment, as she stands there with Quinn looking up at her with hooded eyes and a shy smile, Rachel has some dirty, dirty thoughts about straddling her lap, but she rather just pats Quinn's head and then disappears for a moment.

More than a moment, maybe, but, ten minutes later, the two of them are sprawled out on a blanket on the stage and watching Quinn's favourite version of Hamlet projected on the white backdrop with fruit pieces, sweet tea and popcorn spread out between them.

Well, they were before Quinn shifted all the food out of the way and decided she wants to taste Rachel instead. It amazes her, really, that they've wasted so much time not doing this. She could have been kissing Quinn all this time.

Quinn rolls onto her, the movie forgotten, and Rachel feels her entire body alight at the soft pressure of Quinn Fabray all over her. It feels as if she's everywhere, seeping into her skin and swimming in her veins.

Rachel's hands slip under Quinn's shirt, touching her bare skin, and, okay, this wasn't part of her illustrious birthday plan, but neither one of them is complaining. Even Rachel can't mistake Quinn's moans and whimpers as anything other than pleasure. It makes her incredibly proud that she's the one to give this to Quinn, and she finds herself smiling before she can stop herself.

Quinn feels it, and lifts her head, her brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

Rachel's smile widens, and she shakes her head. "Nothing," she says. "I just like you." She blushes. "I really, really like you."

Quinn blinks, her face falling, and Rachel wants to kick herself for ruining what was such a wonderful day. "You don't mean that," Quinn murmurs, and then rolls to the side, sitting up and crossing her legs Indian-style, her back to Rachel.

The rejection stings, but Rachel knows these are just Quinn's insecurities and demons talking. She shifts onto her own knees and drapes her arms over Quinn's shoulders from behind. The blonde is so tense, but Rachel isn't letting her go.

"Quinn," she whispers; "please don't presume to tell me what I feel."

Quinn shakes her head. "But, you can't," she argues. "How - how can you?"

Rachel kisses her cheek. "Because you're kind of amazing."

"I'm a mess."

"That makes you no less amazing in my eyes, Quinn Fabray," she immediately counters. "I know it's going to take a while for you to believe me, but I'm nothing if not persistent. I'll tell you every day if you need me to."

Quinn turns her head to look at her, and she looks so, so young. "Rachel," she says, disbelief in her tone. "Why do you keep letting me kiss you?"

Rachel resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Why do you think?"

"It's either you're - "

"I would be very careful with what you say right now, Fabray," she says, pouting.

Quinn presses a kiss to her lips, chaste and placating. "Why, Rachel?" she asks, sounding worryingly serious. "Is it really because you actually like me, or is it because you just want me to stay?"

Rachel's immediate response is to be indignant and insulted. How can Quinn even think something like that? Rachel is many things, but she's not that self-sacrificing, and she does her best not to react as viscerally as she wants to.

It takes her the time to remove herself from Quinn's person and crawl around her to realise Quinn is asking this question because of her, and not because of Rachel. Quinn hasn't had a lot of positive affection or emotion in her life, and it's expected she be wary of it. She can't bring herself to believe it, even when it's staring her right in the face.

Rachel takes a deep breath. "Quinn," she says. "Look at me."

It takes a moment, but she eventually does. "I'm sorry," she murmurs.

Rachel reaches for her hands. "I want you to stay," she says. "God. Of course, I want you to stay. Even if we weren't friends or whatever we are right now, I wouldn't want you going anywhere. I've chosen you, and I'll keep choosing you." She looks into Quinn's eyes, imploring and serious. "I like you," she says. "I want you to stay. Those things aren't mutually exclusive." She shifts forward, and then asks her own question. "Do you actually like me, or are you just looking for excuses to stay?"

Quinn's jaw clenches. "You're not an excuse," she says, and her voice is tense. "You're a reason."

Rachel's breath hitches.

"In fact, you are the reason."

Rachel just stares at her, her heart pounding in her chest, because this is so much more than what she was expecting of this day or even this girl and this relationship.

"This was never supposed to happen," Quinn says, shaking her head. "I was - I was going to disappear. I wanted to. Nobody was supposed to notice. I just - " she stops, breathes out. "But then you took hold of my hand and you held on, and - and - "

"I love you."

Quinn's eyes widen.

Rachel freezes. God. She did not just say that. Out loud. This is all just some kind of fever dream. No. No.

"Rach?" Quinn whispers.

"Hmm?"

"Do you mean that?"

Rachel steels herself. "Are you going to believe me if I say yes?"

Quinn smiles, slow and small. "Are you saying yes?"

"I'm saying yes, Quinn," she says. "And I get you don't believe me, but I'm serious about this, okay, because I don't usually just say things just for the sake of saying things, even though I know I say a lot of things."

Quinn looks deathly amused now. "Are you done?"

Rachel huffs. "I'm done."

"I love you, too."

Rachel stares, dumbfounded. She's so tempted to ask if Quinn means it, but she decides she doesn't want to talk about this anymore. It's shocking, she knows, and she thinks she surprises them both when she surges forward and kisses Quinn, giving in to her earlier thoughts of straddling Quinn's lap.

Later, Quinn tells her I love you once more when Rachel gives her the personalised leather-bound journal she spent a little too much money on, and Rachel can't explain her relief that it wasn't a fluke.

Not a fluke.

Definitely not a fluke.

Quinn is surprising to Rachel, in that she's more comfortable with saying the words to her than hearing Rachel say them back. Okay. Maybe not all that surprising, given what Rachel has managed to surmise about Quinn's childhood.

They're... dating. At least, Rachel thinks they are. Not much has changed in their everyday lives save for the fact they now kiss in empty classrooms and dark corners. They're together in nearly all the ways that a couple is supposed to be, and, while Rachel enjoys it, she can't help the dread she feels.

If it all falls apart, Rachel doesn't think she'll survive. Losing Quinn now would break her. Destroy her. Devastate and ruin her.

Quinn tells her I love you nearly five times a day, usually whispered close to her ear or written in texts or in her notebooks. Rachel smiles and says it back, blushing and sufficiently distracted.

It takes her far too long to realise Quinn is overcompensating for something; she's preparing Rachel. She doesn't know for what, but she knows that much, and she's too afraid to ask.

But, they're dating, which means that they spend nearly all their time together. It helps with Rachel's anxiety over Quinn's desires to disappear, because now she doesn't have to make up 'friendly' excuses to be with her.

Rachel knows it goes without saying that she's probably never going to step foot in the Fabray house, which is why it catches her painfully off guard when Quinn bumps her hip with her own and says, "Come to dinner on Friday."

Rachel freezes, her hand pausing on its way into her locker. "Excuse me?"

"Friday night, my house; come to dinner."

Rachel looks at her, carefully studying Quinn's gorgeous features. "You're inviting me over to your house to have dinner?"

Quinn nods.

"Is your mother going to be there?"

"As far as I know, yes," Quinn says, looking a little bemused. "She's doing the cooking, after all."

Rachel agrees, expecting it to be a disaster. Which is why she's not surprised when it actually is. It's not all bad, though. The beginning is simple enough - even nice, Rachel dares to say - but then Judy - please call me Judy, dear - starts talking about something, and Rachel notices the way Quinn just fades. Her hands disappear under the table, and Rachel doesn't have to see them to know there are now fingers tapping against thighs.

Rachel sighs internally, and reaches to hold Quinn's closest hand under the table. She links their fingers, relieved Quinn actually lets her. Quinn's palm is a little sweaty, and Rachel's breath catches in her throat when Quinn's fingers continue their tapping against the back of her hand.

Oh.

Rachel knew this would be a terrible idea.

Somehow, they manage to make it through the meal, and Judy sends them away when Rachel offers to help with the dishes. Quinn takes her upstairs to her bedroom, closes the door behind them, and then immediately pulls her into a bone-crushing hug.

Rachel kisses her first, meeting her mouth in a hard, bruising kiss. She wants to kiss all the worry away; the tension; the confusion. She wants to rid her mind of that tapping and that distance. She wants to get as close to Quinn as physically possible.

"Stay," Rachel says, sounding almost desperate, and she doesn't know where the word is coming from in this moment. It's emotional, she knows. It's too much, and it should scare her, but it doesn't. "Please."

Quinn doesn't say anything. Just kisses her harder. Rachel will maybe look back on this moment and wonder if there was more she could have done. This moment, right here, with Quinn held so securely in her arms. She'll wonder if maybe she didn't hold on tightly enough.

Their Regionals competition goes off without a hitch, which is really saying something, given that they're a magnet for drama.

Quinn holds her hand while they stand on stage and wait to hear the verdict, and there's something so perfectly perfect about the moment that, for a minute, Rachel doesn't even care about the outcome.

Well, it's what she tells herself, anyway, only because they end up winning. Rachel hugs Quinn first, squeezing her so hard that Quinn actually squeaks in pain. Rachel can't even bring herself to apologise, and she doesn't get the chance to before she's accosted by everyone else.

Quinn, in turn, gets wrapped up in Brittany's hug, but her eyes stay on Rachel the entire time. It makes Rachel feel warm and terrified at the same time, and her fingers itch with the desire to reach out for her again.

When the initial burst of celebration is over, Quinn gravitates towards her once more, and Rachel feels her heart expand in her chest. This Quinn is someone wonderful, and Rachel is selfish. So, so selfish.

Quinn slides an arm around her waist as they stand and gush over the victory, and Rachel can barely contain her smile. This moment - God, this moment - burns with how good it feels. She can sense a change is happening again, and she can't help wondering if anyone is going to notice.

Rachel's fathers do, of course.

It's not really as if she actively tries to hide the way she feels about Quinn from them, but there's a part of her that's wanted to keep their relationship strictly between just the two of them.

She also desperately wanted to avoid this:

"Keep that door open."

Rachel flushes darkly at her father's words as she tugs Quinn up the stairs to her bedroom by the hand. "Oh, my God," she calls over her shoulder, ignoring the laugh she gets out of Quinn. "You're so embarrassing."

"It's in the job description, Sweetheart," Hiram says in response, and Rachel chooses to ignore him. Quinn is here, and there's no way she's leaving her bedroom door open.

Quinn actually looks a little concerned when Rachel closes the door.

"He was mostly joking," Rachel lets her know, moving towards her laptop on her desk and choosing some music. "I promise we're okay."

"I kind of enjoy that your parents like me," Quinn says, sounding very serious. "I'd like to keep it that way."

"Oh?"

Quinn tilts her head to the side, looking a bit like a puppy. "I don't want it to be awkward for you."

Rachel hums softly. "They love you, almost as much as I do."

"So, that must be a hell of a lot, huh?"

"As long as you know."

Quinn smiles, soft and real, and there's a tenderness in her eyes that belies what truths Rachel knows lurks just behind her mind's eye. "I know, baby."

Rachel presses play on a random song, and then moves towards Quinn, her arms already reaching for her, hands sliding over Quinn's shoulders. "So."

"So?"

"I have this crazy idea."

Quinn rests her own hands on Rachel's waist, grounding them both. "As opposed to all your other ideas," she teases.

Rachel shakes her head, failing at hiding her own amusement. "It's about Spring Break."

Quinn leans forward, resting her forehead against Rachel's. "What about Spring Break?"

"Will - I mean, would you want - or, I guess, like to, um, spend it with me?" Rachel asks, stumbling over her own words. "And my family, I suppose? We, uh, always go to our lake house for the week, and I - I would really like it if you came with us."

Quinn closes her eyes for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Deadly."

Quinn laughs at her dramatics. "Well, I'm happy to spend it with you," she says. "I'll just have to discuss it with my mother."

"Really?"

"Really," Quinn confirms. "I think I'll be able to convince her."

"How?"

Quinn clenches her jaw for a moment, and then very carefully releases a long breath. "Well, Rachel Berry, you seem to be the only person on the planet who actually wants to spend large amounts of time with me."

Rachel eyes her carefully. "I might even go so far as to say the same goes for me."

"Nonsense," Quinn quips. "Your fathers adore you."

Rachel doesn't really want to be talking about any of their parents, so she rather says nothing and pulls Quinn towards her bed, her intentions clear. "Lie with me for a little while."

Quinn doesn't have to be told twice. She slips out of shoes and removes her denim jacket before lying flat on her back on Rachel's bed, stretching out and relaxing into the absurdly comfortable mattress. It's one of the reasons she loves Rachel's bed, save for the fact Rachel Berry is normally in said bed.

On said bed.

On Quinn.

Quinn lets out a breathy laugh when Rachel unceremoniously lands on top of her, spreading her body over Quinn's and sighing contently. "You comfy there?"

"The comfiest."

Quinn lifts her head to press a kiss to the edge of Rachel's hair. "Are we napping?"

"Can we?"

"I was under the impression that's why you texted me to come over," Quinn says, her right hand sliding along Rachel's back.

"Well, I really just wanted to see you," Rachel let's her know, her left ear resting over Quinn's heart. "And touch you, and possibly kiss you."

"And you couldn't have done that while we were at school?"

"It's not the same," Rachel whines.

Quinn chuckles softly, and Rachel can feel the vibrations in her chest. "No, I don't suppose it is."

Rachel shifts slightly. "How are you feeling today?"

Quinn doesn't say anything for the longest moment, and Rachel starts to think she's actually fallen asleep. But, then, Quinn opens her mouth and says, "Ask me again tomorrow."

"Okay."

"I love you, Rachel."

Rachel's response is simple, easy and true. She's just relieved they're even going to have a 'tomorrow' at all.

The only person brave enough to ask Rachel about the hand-holding during Glee is Kurt. It comes out of the blue, really, and it catches her a little off guard, because she's been under the impression it's just something they've all come to expect.

"Excuse me?" Rachel asks, her hands stilling as they pack away her books into her locker at the end of the day.

"It's every day," Kurt points out. "It just seems an odd thing for you and Quinn to do."

"Why?"

"Well, not too long ago, I'm pretty sure you two hated each other."

Rachel almost rolls her eyes. "I can't speak for Quinn, Kurt, but I can assure you I've never hated Quinn a day in my life. We're definitely in a much better place."

"Because you're no longer fighting over the same boys?"

Rachel sighs softly. "Well, probably," she says. "They - they were a distraction."

"A distraction from what?"

Now, that isn't a question Rachel is ever going to answer. "I thought you all liked this Quinn," she says. "From my recollection, you don't really care much beyond the fact she's no longer terrorising you, right?"

Kurt eyes her for a long moment. "And you're saying you care?"

"I've always cared," she says, and it comes out a little firmer than she expected it would. It surprises them both, but she won't take it back. She has always cared, and now she cares too much - enough that she suspects it's going to destroy her.

"Okay," Kurt says, and his voice is quieter. "Of course, Rachel."

"Good."

Kurt gives her one more curious look, and then he walks away, leaving her to mull over their brief interaction. She feels a little tense, worried for no other reason than that she hasn't seen Quinn in almost two hours.

Well, there's one sure way to help with whatever she's feeling. Even before they started dating, Quinn Fabray always managed to improve her mood.

Now is no different.

Rachel's increasing anxiety peaks when Quinn informs her that she intends to bring up Spring Break to her mother on a certain Wednesday, and Rachel stresses for an endless number of hours.

Later, Quinn sends a text, she said yes, what do I need to pack?, and Rachel breathes a sigh of relief, absently wondering why she was so worried in the first place.

Now, she gets to spend a full week with Quinn, being in her space, actually getting to be a proper couple with her. It's exciting and a little nerve-wracking, because this could really be make or break for them.

It's a lake house, Quinn. There's no special wardrobe required.

So you say. I'm sure you've got special 'lake house' clothes stashed away somewhere.

Jesus, Rachel Berry never knew love until Quinn Fabray. She's almost irritated with herself for ever thinking she felt anything remotely strong enough to be considered love for Jesse or Finn. They pale in comparison.

I can neither confirm nor deny.

Rachel, has anyone ever told you that you're a little ridiculous?

You'd be surprised.

I strongly suspect I won't be.

Rachel snaps a picture of her open closet, showing her perfectly packed clothing, and sends it to Quinn. I'm packing clothes. Like a normal person.

Baby, I think you and I have vastly different definitions of 'normal.'

Love.

There's really no other way to explain it.

Quinn offers to drive the first leg of their trip once the car is packed, and Rachel's sure her fathers fall even more in love with her in that single moment. And Quinn was ever worried they would stop liking her, for any reason. Seriously.

LeRoy politely declines and shuffles both teenagers into the backseat, before doing his final checks and then getting them on the road. It's quite early in the morning, and they barely get onto the highway before both girls are asleep, Quinn pressed against the door, and Rachel pressed against her.

LeRoy steals glances at them from time to time, quietly marvelling at the way their relationship has evolved through the years. He's sure there are things his daughter doesn't tell them, but he's not blind enough not to notice the way Rachel practically lights up at merely the mention of Quinn's name.

It's adorable. And worrying. Because, honest to God, even he can't ignore the darkness in Quinn's eyes. It's almost haunting, and he can only hope and pray Rachel Berry proves to be enough to help Quinn find some light.

Quinn says, "Oh, I don't like hot chocolate," some hours later, and Rachel strongly considers ending this relationship right here, right now.

"What?" Rachel squeaks in surprise, staring at Quinn with wide eyes, as she sets her empty cup on the coffee table.

Quinn looks back at her, all cute innocence. "I don't like hot chocolate," she repeats.

"Oh." Rachel looks away. "I was convinced I heard wrong."

"Nope."

Rachel stretches her legs out and over Quinn's thighs as they lounge on the couch in the main living area. "Is there a reason why?"

Quinn shrugs. "Just not a fan of chocolate, I guess."

Rachel gasps. "Quinn, I don't know if I can keep dating you."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I think I get the monopoly on potentially dietary dealbreakers, seeing as you're a vegan, Rach."

"But, you don't like chocolate," Rachel points out. "It's very different from your not eating chocolate because of some kind of ethical concern. I at least liked meat when I ate it."

Quinn smiles at her, her eyes soft and expressive. "You are so weird."

"And yet you still love me."

"I do," Quinn agrees a little breathily. "I really, really do."

Rachel waits a beat of her heart before she's scrambling into her knees and crawling towards Quinn. Onto Quinn. She settles her knees either side of Quinn's legs as she sits on the couch, and they're both made all too aware that they're alone right now. Rachel's fathers turned in almost two hours ago, and Rachel intends to use every second available to convince Quinn her life is so, so good.

The kiss starts slow - as they usually do - but it escalates quite quickly, and Rachel forgets her name and her date of birth. Quinn's mouth is so skilled; that tongue, those lips and those teeth, succeeding in rendering Rachel stupid in love.

Rachel doesn't have to say Stay out loud, because she's convinced Quinn can already hear her silent plea. At least if the way she kisses Rachel back is anything to go on.

"Mm," Quinn says, pulling back and licking her lips.

"What?"

"Nothing," Quinn says, moving in to resume their kiss. "Just, you know, I think the taste of hot chocolate is growing on me."

It's good.

Life, it's so, so good.

Then, Quinn does the very real, disastrous thing and asks Rachel quite pointedly, "Do you want to have sex?"

Rachel's just glad she's actually sitting down when Quinn's speaks the words into existence. She turns sharply, her eyes a little wide as she stares at Quinn, who is sitting on the carpeted floor, a spread of books open in front of her. They made a decision to dedicate this single afternoon to completing their holiday homework, and this topic of conversation is literally the last she could have imagined.

"Quinn," Rachel starts, suddenly unsure how she's even going to begin a response. "I feel as if that's a very, very vague question."

"Huh," Quinn says with a slight shrug. "I suppose you're right."

"Do you want to be more specific?" Rachel asks.

"Not particularly," Quinn mumbles, and then sighs. "I assume, one day, you will want to have sex, but do you want to have sex with me? Soon? Ever? I don't really know what I'm asking."

"Do you want to have sex?"

Quinn frowns. "I don't know," she admits. "Maybe." She shifts slightly. "I've had it once, and it really wasn't a pleasant experience for me. And I'm talking about the act, itself, not even accounting for the disastrous aftermath."

"You want to override that experience?"

"I want not to think about sex, which is supposed to be something wonderful, and actually cringe at the thought."

"But, do you actually want to have sex, Quinn?"

"I want to make you feel good."

Rachel softens, her entire body melting a little. "Baby, you know you don't even have to touch me to make me feel good."

Quinn meets her gaze, looking a little vulnerable. "So, you're saying you don't want to have sex?" she asks. "Is it because you - "

"Quinn."

"Hmm?"

"I'm very attracted to you," Rachel says. "I love you very much. One day, I do want to have sex with you, but I told myself I would wait until I was at least twenty-five, so..."

"So, basically, I have to stick around until then?"

"Exactly," Rachel says, and it comes out sounding more serious than she thought it would. The reality is that Quinn harbours thoughts that could result in her not being around for the upcoming eight years, and Rachel can't stand it. It breaks her, just thinking about it.

"Rachel," Quinn breathes, sensing her tone of voice and doing her best not to be overwhelmed by it. "I - "

Rachel shakes her head. "It's fine."

"It's not fine," Quinn says, and this is almost the closest they've come to actually talking about it. "I know it's not, and I need you to know I'm trying. I just - I don't know how healthy it is that the best part of my life is you."

"I don't - "

"Please don't tell me you don't care," Quinn says, and it comes out sharply. "You can't not care. It's - it's not fair to you, and I - I can't even bear to think about what it would do to you if - if - " she stops, unable to finish her sentence.

"If I don't prove to be enough to make you stay," Rachel does it for her, her heart aching.

Quinn slowly gets to her feet and makes her way towards where Rachel is sitting against her headboard, an open notebook in her lap. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, shifting Rachel's notebook out of the way. She shoves everything else aside and climbs onto the bed, carefully straddling Rachel's thighs. "I'm sorry," she says again.

Rachel breathes out slowly. "Why are you saying it as if you've already decided to leave me?" she asks, her voice barely audible as she reaches out to touch Quinn's cheek with the tips of her fingers. Her skin is so delicate, soft to touch, and Rachel thinks she's sculpted perfection.

Quinn doesn't answer; just leans forward and presses her lips against Rachel's. It shouldn't be enough, but, in this moment, they both allow it to be.

(Months later, Rachel will wish she answered yes, definitively and seriously, when Quinn asked her initial question.)

Because.

Then.

Then.

The bomb goes off, and it is devastating.

Quinn tells her I love you, preparing her for something, and Rachel doesn't figure out what that is until a day in late April when Quinn just doesn't come to school, and Rachel just knows.

She knows, from the moment the first bell goes and she hasn't seen Quinn's shy smile or heard her whisper her affection. She knows, because her phone is clear of messages from her sweet, sweet blonde and there's already a heaviness settling on her heart.

Rachel sinks to the floor in front of her locker, unmoving, and she knows and knows and knows.

Quinn tried, Rachel knows.

She tried so hard.

But, today is Beth's birthday, and Rachel has a card and a plan to get Quinn through the day… but she suddenly just knows that Quinn's not coming.

Rachel doesn't think she's able to keep her own promise to Quinn, when the news does come just hours later.

Because she hates.

God, she hates so much.

And it burns her from the inside out.

They find the letter in Quinn's locker, and it's addressed to Rachel. The initial date is late September, before Rachel even noticed that Quinn was regressing.

Before everything.

Quinn started writing to her then, long before they even became friends; back when Rachel was still dating Finn. All she reads is Dear Rachel, before she bursts into tears, and Rachel doesn't know how she ever gets past this.

She doesn't make it through the letter once, and she sets it aside for a day when it doesn't hurt as much.

She accepts that day might never come.

There isn't a funeral.

Rachel doesn't think she would have been able to attend it even if there was. Nobody really knows the extent of their relationship - bar her fathers - but they all still treat her as if she's now some kind of widow.

Quinn is gone, and Rachel spent so much time and energy trying to keep her here, just for her to -

To disappear.

To leave her.

To break her promise she refused to make.

Rachel won't say she ever actually recovers.

Quinn Fabray isn't the sort of girl someone just moves on from, and the loss follows Rachel through life, pushing her to be more, keeping her cautious and ensuring she puts herself first.

It takes years.

Years for Rachel to feel settled enough to open and actually read Quinn's letter. It comes on the eve of her wedding to a man who's always taken the time to understand that Rachel carries this unexplainable loss with her. Rachel thinks Quinn would approve of her choice.

Sometimes, Rachel is convinced she can still feel Quinn, her presence in the air. In her heart. Sometimes, Rachel talks to the air around her, as if Quinn can hear her, and it's a certain comfort thinking Quinn actually can.

So, Rachel sits, alone in her hotel room, with a glass of wine and the letter that's plagued her for longer than she can admit. She's imagined it countless times, made up the words she could expect to find.

Quinn surprises her. Obviously.

The note isn't that long. For some reason, Rachel thought Quinn would write paragraphs and paragraphs, but it's really just a page of Quinn's slanted handwriting, and Rachel is a goner from the second she sees it again.

There are things she's allowed herself to forget about Quinn, but her handwriting isn't one of them.

Her smile. Her laugh. The eyebrow arch she was so famous for. The intensity of her gaze. Her singing voice. The way she said Rachel's name. The way she tasted. The heat of her skin. All things Rachel has held onto.

And this.

This letter.

Rachel takes a breath, and then starts to read. Her hands shake with the effort of keeping control of her emotions, but she's a hopeless case by the time she reaches the end. The last few lines hit her, deep, deep, and she doesn't think she's ever going to be able to keep her promise to Quinn.

She hates.

It burns in her chest, makes her ugly.

The words, they're seared into her now, and she hates.

But, God, does she love.

That's always been her problem, hasn't it?

With a hiccup, a sob and a long sigh, Rachel Berry folds the letter and hides it from view, reaches for her wine and holds the glass up to the air. She toasts silently, to Quinn Fabray, and then downs the last of the red liquid.

In the morning, nothing will be different, and yet, nothing will be the same.

Believe me, Rachel Berry, if I was ever going to stay for someone, you have to know it was always going to be you. I'm sorry I've hurt you. I'm sorry I couldn't keep my non-promise. I just hope you'll be able to keep yours.

I love you.

Please don't forget. Never forget. It's me. It's always been me.

You. You are special and lovely and I know you deserve more than this; more than me. You deserve the world, and I wish I'd been able to give it to you, but I just know you'll find someone strong enough to be all you need.

This is all I have to give. My love. My life.

You are the reason.

Fin