It's amazing how quickly the weekend passes. One minute you're sitting at Noah's house playing a video game with a few…friends? And the next you're waking up on Sunday morning to the sound of your phone going off. Perhaps it's the silence that has made everything seem to fly by. Your dad hasn't said anything; instead he sulked around the kitchen grumbling little sentences to himself as Eric watches him with annoyed eyes. You can't understand why he's acting this way, why he's being so overly protective of you. But then if you think about it, he always has been really. You've just never been in a situation like this. You've never liked someone this much. You thought you did, Finn gave you feelings you once thought were very strong, however it seemed that you were misguided. You wanted Quinn, not Finn, and somehow you confused yourself and wanted what Quinn had instead of the actual girl.

At least that's what you figured. That's all that made sense right now.

Your cellphone pings, a second text message now on it and a part of you isn't sure whether or not you actually want to grab it. It feels late. Far too late to be anyone that would relly want to know something. For all you knew, it could be Santana, having tracked down your number and ready to taunt you, or throw it in your face. There's something about that girl that terrifies you, and yet a part of you can't ignore that ray of hope you still hold to be her friend as well.

It's nowhere near as strong as how badly you wished to be Quinn's, but perhaps just maybe you could get some insight. If you and Santana found a way to be friends, maybe she'd spill and tell you about Quinn's past, or why she was the way she was. It wasn't impossible. Though the more you thought about it, the less likely it seemed.

Your phone pings a second time and finally you look at it, seeing Quinn's name lit up on the screen.

Your instinct is to smile, to reply as quickly as possible but then reality hits you. Things have been different lately. Or rather, they've been painfully the same. Yes there was that small bit of hope that you held on tightly to upon seeing Finn's down-trodden face and Quinn's almost happy one the other day, but you're still not sure. Answers haven't been given, and you haven't understood why or how you managed to get back here, but you are and now you have to deal with it apparently.

Hey, Rachel.

Do you have plans for Halloween?

A sigh passes through your sad lips, turned down in a small frown as you type out your reply. Quinn hadn't apologized, nor explained or tried to. She had cried in Glee and the sported a smile the next day. You were on the roller coaster once more, just along for the ride until Quinn chose to stop.

The question now seemed to be, did you want to get off, or wait to see if Quinn would ride with you on the next round.

I've always just passed out candy while admiring the adorable children in their tiny costumes.

How would you feel about a movie marathon with me?

Was there an appropriate answer this question. For the past few days you have felt more confused on your relationship with Quinn than ever before. There were so many things that she had done to make you believe one thing, only to turn and act the exact opposite. A part of you is beyond frustrated, wanting to quit while your ahead. But the curiosity is too much. The lack of answers keeps you holding on praying for some sort of light to be shone upon you at some point. Praying for that break to understand. That clearing to come.

Alright.

You're not even sure why you're agreeing. You shouldn't be. You should be demanding answers. But the fear of pushing Quinn is far too large, the risk too great. You'd rather wait and see. You know she'll explain, once she's comfortable enough to do so she will come forth and apologize and explain because she always has. There's always been that moment between you two. Be it in a bathroom or in an abandoned hallway.

So it's no surprise when Quinn comes over for Halloween that she's carrying more than she needed to bring. A tower of DVD's in one bag, as much vegan candy as Lima has to offer in another. She's even complimented the house decorations nearly five times. Eric is pleased and Kevin stays back. He doesn't once open his mouth, barely looks at the two, and when the Berry-men leave for their date, he only mutters a goodbye to the girls.

"He still mad at me?" Quinn asks, turning to you with a look that nearly breaks you. She's so vulnerable, so sad. There's that glint in her eyes that tells you there is so much more behind that sentence, a double meaning you can't see and yet are almost positive you know.

"Not exactly," Your voice is shy, small with your own tone of sadness. You're not sure how to act around her now. You don't know what to say anymore. Any bond that was once formed seems blocked as you guide her to the living room. "We can watch everything in here. I've already baked a few things earlier. Just some vegan cookies and a batch of chocolate chip for you."

You hate this. You hate not being able to act like you had while at Mrs. Fabray. It's tense, and scary. Quinn isn't playing with your fingers; she's not holding you or touching you. She's not doing anything and you simply don't understand. Dare you ask? Dare you ask what you've done or what possibly has gone wrong for this to become so difficult? No, you don't dare. You settle in as she puts in Rocky Horror to start off your night and sit in the silence.

It's not all quiet of course, the television is playing songs and you can't help but smile occasionally. But it's still quiet somehow. Quinn's sitting up straight, she's not relaxed at all and you have your knees to your chin guarding yourself for the very worst.

Oddly enough you both jump at the sound of the doorbell, indicating trick-or-treaters. There's a pause before you both get up, not once looking to the other, and go to the door.

Before you stands a lady-bug, a Buzz Lightyear, and a Woody. All smiling and holding out their bags as they call out 'trick-or-treat'. It's adorable, even more so when Quinn gasps.

Her face has lit up, her smile is as wide as you've ever seen it, she lowers herself to be eye-level with the children instead of towering over them. Quinn's wonderful with kids, and if she'd been old enough, you know she'd have been a wonderful mom to Beth. The way she looks at these kids, the little girl with the blonde curly hair, the little boys with their bright blue eyes, Quinn's laughing and passing out candy and all you can do is watch in adoration. All you can do is stand there and admire the girl that's somehow stealing your heart as she passes on the sweets and waves goodbye. She's perfect. You're convinced. Every pain that you once had is gone, replaced with what was just displayed before you.

It shouldn't be, but you never were one to hold on to anger or hurt for too long. And especially not with Quinn.

The two of you return to the couch, and now you're both sitting closer, the cookies on a plate in Quinn's lap now. The air isn't so tense, in fact it's far more joyful. And as the night goes on the two of you slowly return to your previous state, laughing and talking like old friends.

By the end of the night you've found yourself almost leaning into her, your shoulders are touching, head is tempted to rest upon her, and the comfort you're finding in this position is frightening.

Frightening because…how long would this last. You've gotten so used to the back and forth, you're only able to focus on when the bad will come. When Quinn will change and get scared and run. You pray she won't, but she has so many times, and you just don't know what to think anymore. You don't think you can hurt like that again. In fact, you're sure you can't. You can't handle that kind of pain again. But then, you've thought this before too. And you're back to being in her presence, comfortable, safe, warm. When will it end? Would you ever have her?

Slowly, you're realizing the back and forth is hurting you far more than you once thought. It's scaring you, making you want to walk on eggshells all over again for an entirely new reason. Was that considered development?

By the end of the night these questions are still heavy on your mind, but you can't help but find yourself sinking further into her body. Her arm over your shoulders, the snacks long forgotten, the new movie somewhere lost in its own plot as your brown eyes simply stare off into it. You're not even sure what's playing anymore. Right now your only worry is to get it back. To get it all back. That hold Quinn and you had on each other before, you want it back, and when the film finally ends you fight for it. You turn to her, look her straight in the eye and ask your question. As if it's nothing at all. "Are you comfortable enough to share the bed?"

A blush steadily creeps up on Quinn's cheeks, and it's only now that you realize how blunt and strange it must be for you to have asked it. But then why is it? Why is it awkward, after everything that has happened, that the two of you share a bed, or that one is offered? It shouldn't be. Nothing should be awkward anymore. Absolutely nothing but there's still that wall, there is still that blockade that Quinn has up and you can't for the life of you figure out what it is. You're not heading back to walking on eggshells, you're already there. You already are, right now, two minutes ago, when she arrived. You have been this whole time and your only choices are continue to do so and let her come to you on her terms or to try and push her and risk losing everything the two of you have. Or could have.

"Yeah, I guess so," is her answer. Shy and sweet. Her voice is tender and frail. She's scared, and you get it, but, why? Why is she so scared when you've been nothing but attentive and reassuring? Nothing would happen if she let herself be happy with you. No one would have to know. Everything would be the same. So what was so wrong with that?

The two of you head up the steps, this feeling of dread washing over you. A weight has somehow appeared like this means more than it should. It's because of the movies, because of every stereotype about two people sharing a bed while the parents are away. Two people that are undeniably attracted to each other. There's only one thing that could happen right? There's only one thing that could be the outcome? Not that you'd allow it. Life isn't a movie, it isn't a musical. You're slowly beginning to learn this.

The dufflebag that Quinn brought is right outside your door, one of your fathers placing it there out of respect. You happily carry it into your room and place it on the bed while grabbing your own set of nightwear before heading to your bathroom. "Just knock when you're decent, I may take longer because of my nightly routine but I don't want to intrude and assume you've finished as quickly as I have." You say quickly, before hiding behind the door, locking it and seeing your blush in the mirror as you turn to face it. It's awkward and strained, your own mind plagued with the thoughts of the night the two of you 'sexted'. You should have waited. You shouldn't have done it. It was stupid and fast and- It was too much. Too much to think about, too much to worry about. For now you just needed to get ready for bed. That's all the both of you needed to do.

Starting up your nightly routine, your mind begins to wander to how back and forth everything is between the two of you. Push and pull. Up and down. Back and forth. And it always repeated. But you'd wait; you'd wait to come out first because then was the real test. If Quinn pulled away you'd stop trying. If she didn't then it would be worth it. Trying would be okay. Everything would be fine.

There's a knock on the bathroom door and it causes you to jump slightly, so lost in your thoughts you hadn't even realized how much time had passed. By the time you've finished yourself Quinn has been caught roaming your room, looking around at photos and knick-knacks. She only turns when she hears the springs on your bed move, the only sound you made to make your prescence known.

You sit indian style on the bed, looking up at her with a single question on your mind. Did you tell her about coming out? Did she deserve to know? Was it something she needed to know?

The questions are forced away as Quinn's slender body moves next to you, sitting stiffly and almost timidly. "Why does this feel so awkward?" Quinn whispers with a small nervous chuckle, one that makes your heart swell and melt all at once. The hold she has on you is stronger, deeper than you once thought. She can make you fall all over again with just a simple sentence. A small question.

You don't stop yourself from turning to face her, changing your position so your now on your knees. Your hand comes up to cup her cheek, and the moment it comes into contact with skin, Quinn's lids fall shut, and your lips are on hers in an instant. It's easier when you're not focusing so intently on the other. It's easier when her walls are down, when it's just her. "Lay with me?" You whisper, lips just millimeters from her frozen face. Her body moves forward, matching yours laying back and next thing you both know, she's curled into your side and your arm is securely around her. A nice role reverse from earlier. "Better?"

"Much."

It's the last thing either of you say, both fearful of ruining the moment, the comfortable silence between you two. Even though many questions need to be asked, you both ignore them. Just like always.

The morning sun is what should awake you both the next day. It should have been a nice gentle comforting day where the sun was your alarm and the two of you slowly got ready for school, stealing kisses ever so often. But instead it's your alarm, blaring at six AM. Quinn groans, a silent plea for you to turn it off, which you do as hastily as possible while still trying to keep close to the blonde. "Should have fixed that." Your voice is raspy with the early morning shock, and your certain Quinn's is as well, though she doesn't seem to plan on using it. Instead her idea is to groan once more and roll away from your warm arms. Away from you and the security the two of you have built overnight. It worries you, but only for a moment, because in the next your rolling towards her again, capturing that security you were almost sure you'd lost. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Sleeping like a normal human being." Quinn's adorable sleepy mumble wafts to you, her voice heaven to your ears this early in the morning. For a split second, you allow yourself to fantasize, to picture the two of you together in this perfect harmony sort of way where all is right and you both are happy. And when you hear Quinn's contented sigh, you wonder if she's thinking the same.

Is she thinking of the same room, large and spacious but warm with decorations and a lived-in feel? Is she thinking of the two point five kids that you so desperately pray for? It's unrealistic, but it's something you still want. Something you still wish for every day, and for the past couple months Quinn has always been a part of the equation. It's with this thought that you move to peck Quinn's shoulder, a soft gentle press of your lips to her skin. It's perfect, everything you've ever wanted and yet, it's with this kiss that you realize that it's everything you've never had. It's always been right at your fingertips but never quite in your grasp. "Do we have to go to school today?" Quinn asks just before you place another, sadder, kiss to her shoulder.

Everything is hurting again. The pull at your heart is so clear and you're not sure what to do with it. You can't rush Quinn but you can't handle this much longer. You can't handle the push and pull that Quinn is putting you through all of the time, but she can't see this, she doesn't understand the amount of pain you're in because of her, and you'll never tell her. You know the exact look she'll give, you know the exact amount of hurt in her eyes, the exact way she'd react. You know how ferociously she'd blame herself and how closed off she will become. You know this, so you won't hurt her. Not like that. Not if it will ruin everything. "Yeah, we're staying in bed all day."

If only. If only the two of you could. If only the outside world didn't exist and if only everything was perfect and this room was all that would be needed. Tears sting your eyes as they fight for freedom but you don't give it to them. Instead you move those lips to Quinn's neck, the very back where the hair has been bundled up but stray strands still fall. Tan fingers move to clear the area completely and soon you're lips are firmly against her skin once more. Soon you hear Quinn utter out an 'Oh God' and all you can think are two words. The same two words over and over.

If only.

If only God wasn't taught to be this hateful person. If only Quinn could accept herself and ignore the bible. If only she would stop being so frightened. If only. If only.

The first tear falls, but you fight to make it the last as you fingers trickle over Quinn's stomach. Her shirt has rode up just barely, revealing her midriff just enough for the tips of your fingers to trace light patterns and earn you a soft moan. It's perfect. Or as close to perfect as you'll ever get. You won't fool yourself into thinking anything more. "Are you always so frisky in the mornings?"

"Break up with Finn. Be with me." Your hand travels to the bed on the other side of Quinn, where it helps to push you up and so you can lean down to kiss Quinn's cheek. It's pleading, full of a silent pain you pray she can't notice but also pray she can. Push and pull. Push and pull.

"Rachel."

"We don't have to tell anyone. Just give me mornings like this and nights like last night and I'll be happy."

"Well, aren't you easily satisfied." She deflects, simultaneously breaking you once more. But you fight it, you fight the pain and put on your bravest face. It takes time, you were blessed with two loving fathers. Not that Quinn was cursed, she just didn't have the same luxuries as you. She didn't have the teachings of all love being equal. Quite the opposite actually. Besides, you have bigger things to worry about. You have a song to think of to help you better show and express your coming out. Something serious but without the obvious message. You can deal with Quinn at a later date, hopefully. If not, well then you'll take advantage of this moment right now.

Your teeth find Quinn's earlobe, and you nibble just barely on it and watch as Quinn's hips buck. It's an amazing sight, watching those thighs clench, and that stomach tighten. "Looks like you are too." You mumbled before sucking the lobe entirely, causing quite the language from Christ Crusader Fabray.

"Oh, fuck."

You're quick to smack her arm, "Language!"

"Your fault." It was. It was very much your fault for that kind of language in Quinn. A silent question you are almost ready to ask is if Finn ever got her to say such things. If Finn got her to react the same ways, to the same intensity. But in fear of the answer you don't bother asking, instead choosing to believe it's just you. That only Rachel Berry is capable of making Quinn Fabray swear as she just did.

And yet still, this doesn't deter your determination, and with one final push you whisper to her, "Be with me."

There's a long sigh, and an even longer pause, before Quinn speaks. "Just…give me a little bit longer. More dinners with your dads." And more time to change your mind about Finn, your mind taunts as you agree.