Worthless

Rachel did not miss the pain that flashed across Quinn's face as she watched someone else accept the crown and the title that Rachel knew meant everything to her. In that moment, Quinn's carefully constructed façade, the layers and layers of walls that had kept Rachel out no matter how hard she'd tried to break through, crumbled down around her. All Rachel saw was the girl with the sad eyes, stunningly beautiful in her vulnerability, standing in a crowd of people yet somehow appearing so achingly alone.

Rachel could hear the others speak to her, attempting to get her attention, but just as she never could before, she could not tear her eyes from Quinn. Her heart ached as she watched Quinn shrug off the gentle hands and words of the boy standing beside her, take a deep breath, square her shoulders, and paste on a smile that did not reach her eyes. Rachel did not miss the careful way Quinn walked away, so obviously trying to keep herself from falling apart with every step, and Rachel wondered why no one else saw it; or rather, why no one else seemed to care.

...

She just needed a moment, she'd told him. In reality, a thousand moments would never help her regain what she had lost.

Quinn knew the minute she walked into the room that night that it was over. Not only that she had lost the crown, but that she had lost everything. That she couldn't do this any longer. That she couldn't keep running from herself.

She sat heavily in a chair in the far corner of the room, simply grateful that she had made it there without incident. No one looked at her. It was better that way—a kind glance, a gentle touch, or a whisper of encouragement and she might have fallen apart.

For a few seconds she stared down at her hands, swearing that she could feel the gentle pressure of her daughter's fingers as they wrapped around her own. Quinn did not think that she had ever known true pain until the moment she had had to give her child away.

She looked towards him, her lips forming into a sad smile when she caught him watching her with eyes that conveyed a better understanding of her than she had ever wanted. She had never meant to break him too.

...

He searched her face with quiet desperation, looking for anything there that resembled the girl he once knew, the girl he had fallen in love with. He could almost hear her voice in his head, telling him that that girl didn't exist anymore, that it was time to move on, and most of all that she was sorry.

Pain ripped through his chest as he watched her splinter into the pieces she had tried so hard to hold together. That he had tried so hard to fuse together, knowing full well that he couldn't. She had broken a long time ago, and he wasn't sure that anyone would be able to put her back together. He had failed, but he had never really had a chance to begin with.

Sighing deeply, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked towards the door, hoping that she knew how much he loved her, and finally admitting to himself that it was over.

...

Quinn lowered her head, curled blonde hair falling from behind her shoulder to obscure the tears Rachel had seen tracing their way down her cheeks. Pausing at the door, Puck threw one last glance over his shoulder at the girl who had meant everything to him for so long, and then disappeared into the night.

Rachel could see Quinn shake from where she was standing, and she knew that the girl was crying, just as she knew that she was the only one watching. No one cared about the ex-head cheerleader, the ex-queen bee, and the never-was prom queen, who in their eyes had fallen from grace long before tonight.

Quinn wrapped her arms around her stomach and curled into herself, blocking out a world that had rebuked her so harshly for her mistakes as she cradled the phantom weight of the one mistake she would never regret making. The simple gesture was so telling of the girl's pain that Rachel felt tears spark in her eyes and a raw, primal pain sear through her chest.

Rachel fidgeted uncertainly, wanting desperately to go to Quinn and do whatever it took to make her smile reach her eyes. Maybe it wouldn't happen tonight, but she would be there until it did. She wanted to be there until it did. But she was scared; of what Quinn would think, of what she would say, but mostly of her rejection.

Rachel looked again to where Quinn sat, staring vacantly at the floor. Look at me Quinn, she whispered desperately, I'm here.

Almost as if she had heard her, Quinn slowly raised her head for the first time since Puck had walked out the door, and met Rachel's eyes. It took Rachel less than two seconds to break away from the crowd and start towards Quinn, a fledgling hope mixed with nearly crippling fear churning in her stomach.

...

Quinn couldn't look away. She felt her chest constrict, panic beginning to bubble in her throat, as she gripped the fabric of her dress so hard her knuckles turned white. Rachel had seen. Rachel knew. She knew everything. Quinn could see it in her eyes.

It seemed as though Rachel was moving in slow motion. Quinn's face visibly paled the closer Rachel came to her, the more she could see the worry on the other girl's face, and the more she felt comforted as she gazed into Rachel's eyes.

She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to face what she'd been running from for so long, and especially not with the person she'd been running from. She wasn't ready for Rachel's kindness, for her gentle words, her gentle looks, and for the sweet smell of her shampoo to envelop her senses like it always did, making her feel the way it always did.

Quinn wasn't ready. She was still mourning the loss of her baby girl, and it was Rachel who reminded her most of the life her daughter was living without her. She was still learning to trust again; her parents, not to abandon her, her friends, not to take advantage of her, and most importantly, herself, not to give up completely. It was Rachel who made her want to trust again, so badly she could do nothing but send hateful glares her way, angry that the other could trust so easily when she could not take even the smallest first steps. And it was Rachel whose arms she wanted to fall into, whose eyes she wanted to get lost in, and whose hands she wanted nothing more than to feel nestled in her own.

She just wasn't ready.

Faster than Quinn would have liked, Rachel was standing before her. She expected a barrage of heavy, loud words that would do nothing but hurt her already pounding head. Instead, Rachel knelt before her and rested one hand lightly on her knee, slowly lifting her other hand to brush a stray curl away from Quinn's tear-stained cheek.

Quinn closed her eyes and took in a ragged breath, instinctively leaning into Rachel's touch. Pain of an entirely different variety licked through her and she bit her cheek so hard she drew blood, clenching her fists tighter in an attempt to save herself from running headlong off the cliff she was barreling towards.

Eyes never leaving Quinn's, Rachel rested her hand on Quinn's and began to peel her fingers free with a gentleness that Quinn did not expect. Every brush of Rachel's skin against her own sent bolts of electricity crackling through her, and had Quinn not been so damn broken and tired, she would have been running so fast and far away from Rachel's touch that no one would have ever been able to find her.

Quinn gritted her teeth as Rachel worked, slowly and methodically uncurling Quinn's fingers with one hand and using the other to calm the girl by running her fingers through her hair. As she tried and failed to stop the warmth that flowed through her at Rachel's touch, Quinn wondered idly how the other girl knew that the simple motion was one of the only things that could bring her back from the edge.

...

All Rachel could think about was the tightrope walker she had seen at the circus when she was a little girl. She had marveled then at how the woman risked her life for the crowd of people she did not know far below her, wondering why she would walk that line without the safety of a net, without knowing whether or not she would be successful that night. Rachel understood now. She understood that, despite knowing that a missed step or a miscalculation could cost her everything, the knowledge of what she would gain if, above all odds, she was successful so far outweighed the risks that they just didn't matter in the least.

Come on, Quinn, Rachel softly chanted in her head, I'm right here. It's okay. I've got you.

She had succeeded in disentangling Quinn's hands from the fabric of her dress and currently held them lightly in both of her own, scared that whatever she did next would cause the fragile illusion she had created to shatter into pieces around them.

Quinn had begun to cry again, and Rachel could feel how much the girl wanted to curl into herself once more, arms around her stomach, blocking out anything and anyone that would make her better. Rachel gently cupped Quinn's cheek with her hand, stroking away her tears with her thumb. Quinn's breath hitched, her eyes quickly slammed closed, and Rachel could see tension ripple through her face and shoulders.

With a sad smile, Rachel released Quinn's hand and stood. Perhaps she had been wrong. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all. Or perhaps she was just scared because she wasn't sure what to do next.

...

Quinn was trying. Didn't Rachel see that? She was trying to be okay and she was trying to just let Rachel help her and was trying to accept everything that had been haunting her for the past two years.

Suddenly, Rachel's hands were gone and Quinn could no longer smell her shampoo and the ache in Quinn's chest became so great it nearly crippled her. Her eyes flew open and she just barely caught Rachel's wrist before the girl was gone. Rachel froze.

Please don't go, Quinn silently begged, I need you so much.

Rachel turned slowly, meeting Quinn's gaze with a look in her eyes that Quinn only hoped she was interpreting correctly. It seemed as though Rachel couldn't quite believe that it was Quinn who had stopped her from going.

She felt Rachel's arms wrap around her and lift her to her feet, and the feeling that rushed like a hurricane through her was better than she'd ever imagined.

She laid her head on Rachel's shoulder, burying her face into the soft curls that felt like silk against her skin. Her arms circled Rachel's waist so naturally it was if they'd always belonged there, and Quinn thought that in a way they always had.

"I'm worthless, Rachel," she whispered, voicing aloud for the first time her very worst fear, in the arms of a girl who had every reason to shove her away, but who instead held her more gently than she'd ever expected, and who made her feel safer and more content than she'd ever imagined.

"Oh Quinn," Rachel breathed against the shell of Quinn's ear, "you're worth everything to me."

Rachel tightened her arms around her and they began to sway to the music. Rachel began to sing right next to her ear, the low hum of her voice vibrating in Quinn's chest, and finally Quinn felt the pain buried deep inside her start to fade. And as she felt Rachel press a soft kiss to her forehead, she thought to herself that Rachel's words might have been the most beautiful she had ever heard.

...

A.N.:

1) Glee and its characters unfortunately do not belong to me.

2) This is my first Faberry fanfiction, but I am a long time reader and peruser of this community. This scene just would not leave my head, so I figured I'd try my hand at writing it down. Hope you enjoyed it!