A/N: Triggers galore. So, please proceed with caution!
Disclaimer: Not mine.
The lights dimmed, and Quinn leaned forward just a tiny bit in her seat. The curtain came up and she couldn't stop the small smile from flitting across her face when she heard that voice come soaring into the audience. Closing her eyes, she let the melody wash over her.
She had seen the show enough times that she could visualize exactly what was happening on stage, and in the dark behind her eyelids she could pretend that maybe that voice was directed at her. That voice had become all that sustained her recently. She knew how ironic that was, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
It didn't matter any more that the little brunette that voice belonged to had been her worst enemy in high school. It didn't matter that she had gotten to know one of the doormen well enough that he let her in nightly, even though she couldn't afford a ticket. It didn't matter that everything else was falling to pieces around her, because when she heard that voice? It all disappeared.
It didn't matter that the voice belonged to Rachel Berry, because somehow, the universe had seen fit to make Rachel Berry's voice the one thing that could take her away from her problems.
Squeezing her eyes shut just a bit more tightly, Quinn forced herself to empty her mind and stop thinking so much. She came here to listen to Rachel and escape her life, not think about it in detail. Hearing the final strains of the finale, she let her eyes slide open, blinking lazily, only to find a pair of dark chocolate eyes staring at her from the stage.
The shock caught her off guard for a moment, and she could do nothing but sit there and blink as Rachel stared at her, curiosity and disbelief painting her features. She had no idea how the brunette had managed to find her in the audience through the glare of the stage lights, but a tentative smile touched her face anyways when Rachel cocked her head and gave her a half smile. Rachel took a step towards her, the half smile growing slightly at the sign of recognition, proof that she wasn't just seeing things in the sea of people.
As the brunette drew another step closer, however, Quinn realized what was happening, and she practically flew out of her seat. Unfortunately, since the show was ending, any chance she might have had at a speedy escape was drastically hampered, but she did her best to push her way through the crowd without looking back. This was not part of the plan. She came to hear Rachel sing, to forget about life for a while, not to rehash the past with someone who probably hated her.
She heard from a distance that voice, calling out to her, asking her to wait, but she forced her feet to keep moving. Chancing a glance back, she saw a flurry of brown hair pelting for a side door that she assumed led off stage. Picking up her pace as much as possible, she tried to melt into the people around her. If she could just lose herself in the crowd, she could leave without further incident and forget that this ever happened.
Finally reaching the outer doors to the theater, Quinn pushed her way through and out onto the street, making a break to the left and ducking into a small doorway to hide from sight. If Rachel Berry was anywhere near as persistent as she was in high school, she wasn't going to take any chances.
Sure enough, not thirty seconds later, a tiny brunette came barreling out of the doors, looking around wildly. Pressing her back against the door , Quinn watched as Rachel stood on her toes, scanning the crowd. When she didn't see any sign of the blonde, she dropped back down and her entire posture slumped a bit.
Quinn slumped back against the door with relief when Rachel turned and went back inside, trying to avoid the horde of fans that had congregated around her. Pushing herself off the wall after a few minutes, she turned and began walking away from the building. Her thoughts were more occupied than usual with the little diva who seemed to make all her problems go away, and she sighed and shook her head.
It didn't matter that she was suddenly left feeling like she had missed a critical opportunity, something that could have changed her life. She needed to gather herself before going back to him.
He wouldn't care that something terribly important could have happened, so she shouldn't either.
Steeling her posture, Quinn wrapped her scarf just a bit tighter against the world as she headed for home.
The first time she met him, he had instantly charmed her.
He had been funny and witty with just enough sarcasm thrown in, and he had the looks to boot. He was tall, with his dark brown hair buzzed close to the scalp. Just a bit scruffy, he was obviously in fantastic shape and oozed masculinity. Everything about him had seemed perfect.
A mutual friend had introduced them, and he had made her feel special. It had been so long since someone had looked at her like that- like they wanted her for more than just her body, more than just a one night stand.
His name was Jason, and that night had been one of the happiest of her life. He had asked her to dance, and it had been actual dancing, not just grinding and random flailing. He had been the perfect gentleman, and all she could think was that she had finally found someone to be happy with.
All through college, she had tried and tried to find someone who could be her forever, but with no success. Over the course of those four years, she had also managed to come to terms with the fact that she was attracted to women as well as men, and she had been hopeful that maybe that was what had been missing all along. Five flings and two failed relationships later, however, she was forced to concede that gender might not have been the problem after all.
She had kept trying, driven by the hope that someone out there had to be looking for her just like she was looking for them. She had stopped believing in the kind of fairy-tale romance and love she had dreamt of as a child when she had gotten pregnant at sixteen and ended up without a home, but that didn't mean she had given up on love all together. Still, after so much heartbreak and disappointment, it was becoming easy to slip into old habits of cynicism and snark.
She had almost given up on ever finding someone when she met Jason, but when he led her off the dance floor and bought her a drink and then sat and talked with her for an hour, she had known. This was what it was supposed to be like. He did everything she had always been told a good guy would do, and it felt amazing.
At the end of the night he had taken her home, picked up the cab fare, and kissed her on the cheek. He hadn't propositioned her for anything more, but had given her his number and said to call him if she wanted to go out again sometime. She had managed to wait a full 24 hours before breaking down and texting him, and they had set up plans to go out the next night.
He had been even more perfect, if that was possible, and after that it had only taken 6 months for him to propose and a small wedding to take place. All of her friends had been concerned, but he had quickly put all her fears to rest. He had told her it was perfectly normal for two people with their type of connection to move more quickly than other people might deem reasonable, and because he seemed so confident in what he was saying, she had believed him with no questions asked.
She also hadn't questioned as she gradually became more and more focused on him, until it reached the point where she had started planning her days around him. After all, she reasoned, she had never been married before, so maybe this was what domestic bliss was supposed to be like.
It wasn't like she had a whole lot of examples of what a healthy marriage was supposed to look like, and while this was entirely different than any other relationships she had been in, she didn't know if that was necessarily a bad thing. Obviously none of those relationships had led to anything even close to marriage, so maybe this was how things should have been all along.
He was just so amazing, and if he asked a little more of her than she was used to then it was okay, because he was more than she was used to.
It didn't matter that she had slowly begun to drift away from her friends because she was too busy spending all her time with him. She still saw them, and whenever they commented on her absence she just chalked it up to them being jealous of what she had. They couldn't find a guy as amazing as Jason, so trying to bring her down was the next best thing.
Looking back, of course, all of those things that she thought didn't matter were actually vital, but at the time?
She thought everything was perfect.
Rachel stood on stage, only half paying attention to her performance. She was too busy scanning the audience to really pay attention to the notes she was hitting, too busy searching for blonde hair and sad hazel eyes.
The last two weeks she had been keeping an eye out at all of her performances, desperate to find Quinn again, but so far she hadn't had any luck. She wasn't honestly sure why she was so set on finding Quinn and seeing her again, because by all accounts she should probably be trying to stay as far away as possible.
Their relationship in high school hadn't exactly been positive, but something was telling her that things had changed. She didn't know why she would think that, but she was determined to find out. Her fabled (to her mind) sixth sense told her that there was a reason Quinn was in the audience that night that was worth looking into, something that was worth setting aside old grudges for and she wasn't one to discount what her intuition was telling her.
Hitting the final note of the show, she sighed internally as she tried not to let her disappointment show on her face. Just as she was about to turn, though, a flash of blonde hair caught her eye in the aisle. She whipped around in time to see Quinn turning to make her way outside. She wished momentarily that she wasn't on Broadway, so that she could simply leap off the stage and go running after the blonde. Knowing that could only end badly, however, she opted for a more stealthy approach and calmly walked off stage before sprinting out the side door to try to beat Quinn around to the front of the theater.
She didn't know what, exactly, she was trying to accomplish, but at the very least she was curious about why Quinn kept coming to her shows. Skidding to a stop in front of the theater, she scanned the people milling about, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Quinn walking in the opposite direction down the street.
Running after her, she finally caught up as the blonde was about to turn the corner and ran in front of her. The look on Quinn's face was one of pure shock when she found herself suddenly face to face with Rachel Berry.
Panting, Rachel managed to say, "Hello, Quinn. It's been a while."
As the shock wore off, Quinn found herself faced with warring emotions. On the one hand, a part of her was ecstatic that Rachel had come after her, but the larger part of her was screaming that she had to get away. She had to protect herself, and she had to protect Rachel. If that meant she got hurt in the process, well...at least Rachel would be safe.
Trying to maintain the internal mantra that keeping Rachel safe was what mattered, Quinn shifted to disinterested bitch mode and replied, "Yeah, Berry. What do you want?"
A bit put off at Quinn's brusque manner, Rachel arched a brow and said, "I just wanted to say hello." She paused and figured she'd just be Rachel Berry and get right to the point. "You did, after all, come see my show at least twice. You must have known there'd be a chance that you'd run into me. Obviously, you weren't completely averse to talking to me."
Scoffing and mumbling, "Don't flatter yourself." Quinn turned to leave.
Suddenly angry at being brushed off so easily, Rachel reached out a hand and grabbed Quinn's arm to prevent her from leaving. She expected Quinn to try to shake her off, maybe turn and yell, but she was entirely unprepared for the blonde to cry out and jerk away from her as though burned. Confused, Rachel let her hand drop but asked, "Quinn? Are you okay? I didn't mean to hurt you, I-"
She was cut off by Quinn turning on her and snarling, "Stay away from me, Berry."
As the blonde stalked off, Rachel just watched her go, stunned at the way things had happened so quickly. She didn't miss the way Quinn's arms went around herself as she walked, as though she was trying to shield herself from some unseen harm, or the way she seemed to shrink in on herself.
Watching the blonde's retreating form, Rachel leaned on the brick building to her side and sighed heavily. She just didn't know what to make of this. The blonde kept coming to her shows, but she didn't seem to want to want any actual contact with her. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, really, given their history.
But Rachel had never been one to let things drop, and she was certain now that there was more to this than Quinn was letting on. Something had changed dramatically- the blonde was still beautiful, but there was a quiet sadness to her that seemed...off. Maybe it was something in her eyes.
The diva couldn't quite put her finger on it, but their brief encounter had made her even more curious than ever about what Quinn had been up to since high school. It had obviously been a difficult road, but not knowing any sort of specific details was killing her. She knew that Quinn's harsh words should have been more than enough of an indicator for her that the blonde wanted Rachel to leave her alone, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than Quinn simply not wanting to talk to her.
There was some other reason for Quinn's attitude, and she was determined to find out what it was.
The first time Quinn realized that maybe Jason wasn't as perfect as she thought came around six months into their life as a married couple. They had been having some arguments recently over her getting a job, and one night something changed.
She had been telling him that she was smart and that she could easily find work, and he cut her off. "Quinn, honestly? You really think you're cut out for work? I mean, come on, sweetheart, we both know you're not the sharpest tool in the shed, and you don't have a whole lot going for you other than your looks...and, I mean, if we're being blunt here, you're looking a bit chunky these days. Just...I don't want you to be disappointed, honey."
His tone was concerned, if a bit patronizing, but she told herself that he was just looking out for her best interests. A week later, however, she dropped a plate after dinner. It broke, and he exploded.
He was screaming at her, out of nowhere, and she was terrified as words flew at her about how she was nothing but a stupid cunt, good for nothing bitch, a slut who couldn't do anything right. It was so unexpected and completely out of character for the Jason that she knew that she just stood there and let him scream. It felt so unreal, and when he finally stopped and stomped out of the room, it felt like it couldn't possibly have happened.
She cleaned up the broken plate, and later that night he apologized and told her it had been a rough couple of days at work, and that he would never do it again. She told him it was fine, and she understood, and it had been her fault for dropping the plate in the first place.
Maybe a small part of her knew that it wasn't really fine, but she didn't want to think about what it would mean if things weren't fine, so even when the screaming and the blaming became more of a regular occurrence she tried not to think too much about it. After all, she was a strong, independent woman. She could take care of herself, and there was no way she was ever going to be one of those women, who stayed with someone who treated them horribly.
Quinn had promised herself, after the fiasco that had been her childhood and teenage years, that she would never let someone control her life or treat her badly again. Making good on that promise had taken her on a whirlwind ride, and she had ended up learning more about herself than she would have thought possible, but it had given her a sense of who she was. There was no way she was going to lie down and let someone take that away from her, but with Jason? She didn't want to think about it; it was dangerous territory that she wasn't sure she could handle.
If she thought about it, then she might see that things weren't so perfect anymore, and that wasn't something she wanted to have to deal with. Instead of thinking, she learned to just try to tune out what he was saying- all of the insults about how ugly she was, how stupid and worthless and what a waste of space she was. And maybe there was just a little too much of that insecure 16-year-old girl who got pregnant left in her, but she started to believe him.
It seemed easy enough to believe that she wasn't really that pretty, and that she just thought she was smart. She knew there were a lot of things wrong with her, and while it hurt to have Jason constantly point them out, maybe it was better that he was honest with her about her flaws.
Maybe he was just trying to help her be more aware of things she could work on. Maybe he just had her best interests at heart and really loved her enough to help her improve and be good enough.
Maybe.
The third time Rachel saw Quinn after a show, she decided to take a bit of a different tact. She still chased after the blonde after the show out in front of the theater, and when she caught up to her, she still stepped in front of her, but she tried to be softer when she held up a hand before Quinn could speak.
Taking a deep breath, she said, "I know you obviously don't like me, and that's okay, but I would really love it if you would have coffee with me tonight. I realize it might be an inconvenience to you, but it would mean a lot to me. I miss seeing people from Lima, and just having someone to talk to who views me as a person, flaws and all. So, would you? Please?"
Quinn stared at her, mouth opening and then closing, before she finally murmured, "It's not that I don't like you, Rachel..." trailing off, not really wanting to continue because she might say too much.
When the brunette arched an eyebrow at her in disbelief, she sighed and after a moment of hesitation, she finally nodded her head. "Okay. Coffee just this once, I guess. Just don't plan on it being a habit or anything, got it?"
Rachel nodded enthusiastically, reaching out and grabbing the blonde's hand. Quinn flinched away from her hand at first, and Rachel sighed. "I'm not going to hit you, Quinn."
A strange look passed across Quinn's face for a split second before it was gone and she shook her head. "I know, Rachel. It's not like you'd do much damage even if you did. Where's the coffee place? Let's get this over with." Rachel decided to brush it off. She knew that Quinn was more than likely simply trying to keep her at arm's length and prevent her from getting too close.
Rachel led the way to the tiny coffee shop, maintaining a steady flow of aimless chatter the entire way there. Once they were seated in a tiny back booth, however, she found herself suddenly at a loss for words. She was sitting across from Quinn Fabray. How on earth had this happened?
She hadn't actually expected Quinn to give in quite so easily, so she hadn't taken the time to prepare some plan for conversation in her head before she ended up actually talking to the blonde. It wasn't that she wasn't thrilled that Quinn had given her this chance, it was just...a bit faster than she had really expected.
Quinn seemed just as baffled by the situation, and she looked distinctly uncomfortable. Internally, she was berating herself for letting Rachel talk her into this. She knew what her reasons were for trying to stay away from the brunette, and she knew they were valid. It was just...she hadn't been able to bear the rejection on the diva's face when she tried to turn her down again.
Mentally kicking herself for caring in the first place, Quinn tried desperately to think of something to talk about. Rachel was clearly struggling, and the blonde decided since she was here, she'd bite the bullet and at least try to make this a little less awkward.
Their coffee arrived, and after taking a small sip, Quinn cleared her throat. "Rachel..." she trailed off, clearly searching for words, before shaking her head and trying again. "I don't...I'm sorry. I guess that's what I'm trying to say. I'm sorry. Back in high school, I was...I was young, and stupid, and naïve, and maybe I'm still all of those things minus the young part, but I know better now, and I'm so, so sorry for everything I did."
Surprised at Quinn's seemingly unprovoked apology, Rachel sat in silence for a moment just trying to process it before reaching out and slowly grasping at Quinn's hand across the table. "It's okay. Maybe it wasn't, for a while, but I forgave you a long, long time ago. And just for the record, I don't think you've been anything even remotely close to stupid, ever, and you haven't been anywhere in the neighborhood of naïve since Beth. You're incredibly intelligent, Quinn, you always have been. You just didn't always use that intelligence in the most productive of ways."
While she was talking, the same strange look passed across Quinn's face accompanied by a brief pang of something in her stomach. She looked down at the table. "Thank you, Rachel," she whispered, "I don't think I really deserve your forgiveness, after everything I've done, but thank you."
Taking a drink of coffee, Rachel squeezed her hand and said, "Please, Quinn. It was high school. No permanent damage was done, and you're clearly not the same person any more. It would be pointless to hold a grudge against you now." Releasing Quinn's hand, Rachel leaned back in her seat. She waited for Quinn to say something, but the blonde seemed lost in thought. After a few minutes of slightly awkward silence, the blonde looked at Rachel and smiled hesitantly.
"Sorry," she murmured, clearing her throat, "So, how's life been treating you? Aside from Broadway obviously working out marvelously." The last part was said with a slight smirk, and Rachel instantly felt more at ease.
Talking about how life had turned out for her was an easy topic, and the last bit of tension dissipated entirely as she talked. They covered a variety of somewhat mundane topics, but despite Rachel's attempts, Quinn somehow managed to keep the conversation focused on the diva. It was quite the change from the self-centered girl she had known in high school, and Rachel found herself wondering why she had changed so drastically.
She got the same sense she had the last time she saw the blonde- something was different. Frustrated at not knowing what, exactly, was different, Rachel tried to just go with the conversation and hope for the best. She lost track of how long they had been talking, but eventually had to stifle a yawn in between sentences. Looking at her watch, she laughed quietly. "You know, you'd think for being on Broadway I'd be used to this, but it seems like without fail I hit 4:00 in the morning and I just start to crash."
At the mention of the time, Quinn suddenly grew pale and her eyes widened. "Is it 4:00 already?" She asked, a note of panic in her voice. The blonde was already out of her seat as Rachel started to nod, hurriedly throwing her coat on. Trying to figure out why it was suddenly so important for the blonde to leave, Rachel threw some bills on the table and followed the other woman out the door. When she heard Rachel come out after her, Quinn paused and turned. Trying to force a smile, she said, "I'm sorry I have to go, Rachel, it was really nice talking to you. I just- I have to go."
Watching as Quinn turned and hurried in the opposite direction, Rachel tried to figure out what had just happened. She didn't think it was anything she had said that had upset the blonde, but when she had mentioned the time Quinn had gone from relaxed and calm to panicked and jittery in the space of a few seconds. Rachel tried to figure out why the time might be so important, but gave up after a few seconds.
She just didn't know enough about the blonde and her life to be able to guess at why she did certain things and behaved certain ways. Sighing and rubbing her temples, Rachel gave up on trying to figure Quinn out for now and turned for home. She had done her best to be friendly, and now all she could do was hope that Quinn would reach back out to her. She would love the opportunity to get to really know the blonde, to see who she really was behind what Rachel had come to think of as her mask.
Quinn still seemed like she was trying to project a certain image of herself, but the brunette was convinced that there was a whole different person underneath. If she could just figure out a way to get past the porcelain exterior, she had a feeling she would get to see an entirely different person.