Author's note: Just had some thoughts, wrote dialogue first and then went along with the rest. It's a bit angsty, but when isn't Faberry angsty?

Enjoy.

Rachel looked over the words more carefully. She didn't quite comprehend what she was reading. It was Quinn's handwriting, that's undeniable, but the words that were inked on the pieces of paper weighed heavy. They were dark and lonely and threatening, much opposite of what Quinn was on the outside; popular, bright, intriguing, etc.

The more Rachel thought about what she'd just said in her mind, the more she started to doubt the view Quinn had paraded so flawlessly all the years she'd known her. If the words in this journal were true, then Quinn might even be a better actress than she.

"This is ridiculous. It cannot be true."

They spoke of a lot of hate, which is plausible. There were a lot of things that had gone wrong the past few years, a few being her unplanned pregnancy and her not winning prom queen. Everyone knew how important winning that had been for her. Finn dumping Quinn at a funeral didn't help either, and much less to be dumped for herself.

But something about these words was a lot deeper than the social status of her high school years. Something told Rachel that Quinn had gone through a lot more than she'd let on; which if Rachel thought about, no one really knew. Quinn Fabray was a mystery, really.

McKinley wasn't a very large school. It was rather small compared to schools outside of Lima. In fact, Lima was just small to begin with. It shouldn't be too hard to find a blonde ex-cheerleader, right? Rachel roamed the halls quietly and slowly. She wanted to make sure not to miss anything, just in case Quinn might really be in need of help. The words on the pages kept haunting Rachel and if anything were to happen to Quinn and she knew about it on some level, it would kill her for the rest of her life.

She's nearing the end of the hall and signs don't look good. Maybe she went home? Rachel hadn't seen Quinn since Glee and that was an hour ago. Maybe she'd missed her, but when she hears a sob behind a door near the corner of the school, she knows she's found her.

Rachel looked through the small window on the door. It took her a second to even spot the blonde. She was sitting near the window of the classroom looking completely defeated. A frown took over the diva's face. She didn't like anything but a smile on that face. Rachel doesn't even knock, just twisted the knob silently.

The other girl doesn't seem to be bothered by the noise at all. Her stare doesn't move from the glass, and the light shining through the window makes her expression even more evident. Rachel doesn't know if it's sadness or what. The blonde just looked…absent.

"What do you want?"

The words startled the shorter girl. She was taken aback by how loud they sounded in such a tiny room. She opened her mouth to speak, but only hot air came out.

"Not gonna answer?"

"I-"

Quinn didn't move.

"I thought I heard something."

"And I'm guessing that's as good excuse as any to barge in on someone's alone time?"

"I-"

Quinn didn't move.

Rachel sighed audibly. She really had no better excuse than to know if she was okay.

"I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless, Berry."

Rachel couldn't bring herself to speak. She was sure that if she did speak, however, she wouldn't shut up and it would most definitely worsen the already awkward situation.

"You can leave if you are just going to stand there."

Again, Rachel was taken aback. Quinn wasn't kicking her out. Quinn wasn't calling her names. Quinn wasn't doing much of anything, actually.

"May I take a seat?"

"You already barged in, Berry. It's the least you could do, really. Other than leave me alone, that is."

Rachel stopped. Was this a trick question?

After a long while of hesitation on Rachel's behalf, Quinn finally says, "just sit."

Rachel did as she was told. The diva took a seat maybe 4 or 5 desks from Quinn, just so to give her enough space, but not so far as to make the blonde feel like she'd got some incurable and contagious disease.

A few minutes passed. It might as well had been a lifetime, to be honest. Or at least it felt that long to Rachel. She was getting anxious and her leg was starting to bounce silently. The diva wasn't known for not talking. This mildly concerned Quinn as well.

"What do you want?"

Rachel didn't know how to begin, so she just opened her mouth and let the words fall out as they wished.

"I found this," Rachel leaned to the side and into her bag. She pulled out the small notebook. Quinn side-eyed the brunette. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth suddenly went dry.

"What are you doing with that!"

Her growl was almost piercing. Rachel could have sworn she stepped out of her body for a split second.

"It was in the choir room and I-"

"Did you read it?"

Rachel couldn't answer.

"I asked you a question, Manhands."

Rachel couldn't answer.

"Give it to me."

Rachel couldn't move.

"Give it to me!"

Rachel stepped back into herself and snapped out of it. She quickly walked over to the blonde who had her hand outstretched so as to not let Rachel get too close. That didn't necessarily work either. Quinn took the notebook and set it on the desk but had enough time to grasp Rachel's wrist before she could pull it away and held it tightly.

"Did. You. Read. It." She said through gritted teeth; said because it wasn't even a question. She knew Rachel had read it, if she hadn't she wouldn't have come looking for her or shown any more concern than to just return a wad of papers.

"Quinn, I-"

The blonde's grip was surprisingly strong. Her knuckles were completely white.

"Quinn, you're hurting me."

Quinn scoffs sarcastically.

"Oh, am I?" She pulls Rachel down and she comes crashing to her knees.

"Ouch," Rachel blurted unintentionally.

"I'm sorry," Quinn's tone is almost revolting, "did that hurt?"

"Quinn," her voice trembled, "please."

"Please, what, Dwarf? Please let go? Please stop hurting you? Why? Can't I teach you a lesson in not going into other people's business? Maybe if I twist hard enough you'll learn not to steal my things and read into my personal life? How does that sound?"

The ex-cheerleader had the short girl's palm facing up and her back was facing her. The diva's over arm was supporting her weight by pressing against the floor and her knees were starting to swell from the fall.

Rachel couldn't answer.

All that was heard now was the brunette's soft crying. The red on Quinn's face began to disappear once she'd realized what she'd done. She let go of the smaller girl like she'd been burned, which was ironic since it was Rachel's wrist that looked like it had been splashed with boiling water. Rachel nursed her wrist as she sat back on her ankles and rocked slightly.

Quinn stood and looked at her hands in shock, trembling. Flashbacks of prom night reeled in her mind. Why did she keep hurting Rachel? Why was it always in blind rage? Why did she always let it get that far?

"R-Ra- I- I'm-"

The tall girl tried to reach down but her fingers only stroked the air above Rachel's bowed head. She retracted her hand as the smaller girl stood and walked back to her seat, five desks away.

They didn't speak for what felt like an eternity to Quinn. She wanted to say she was sorry. She wanted to cry. She wanted to spill everything. She wanted Rachel to hold her even. Quinn wanted anything, any outlet to get this giant rock out of her chest.

But she said nothing. Instead she just stared at Rachel with this look of remorse and self loathing. All Rachel could do was nurse her wrist and play with her fingers.

"Rachel, I-"

"I know."

"But I-"

"I know."

"Why won't you let me apologize?"

"Because I understand."

"Well, I don't understand, Rachel."

Quinn turned her gaze to her hands as Rachel looked up to her.

"What is there for you to understand?"

Quinn couldn't make eye contact.

"I'm a terrible person-"

"No, you're not-"

"Let me finish," she held her fingers up slightly. "Yes, I am. I am a horrible person." She peered at the brunette through her hair, "I do things, really mean things. I say things I don't mean. I am just mean," she looks down again. "Plain mean."

"Nothing in that sentence makes you a terrible person, Quinn. It makes you human."

That made the blonde betray her eyes and peer through her hair at the other girl once more.

"What are you talking about, Rachel?" Quinn's face distorted again. She looked like she could break down. "I tormented you! I just- I almost broke your wrist!"

"So?" Rachel tilted her head at the blonde. She looked down at her wrist and lets her hand swim over the welt that's now surfacing, "it'll heal."

"But, I-"

"I can take it," She paused. "Your words, I mean. I can take them." The corner of her lips curls into a tiny smirk, "yeah, okay, I cry sometimes, but I know I'm better than your words."

Quinn scoffed, but more in disbelief this time before she continued, "how do you do it?"

Rachel looked up, "do what?"

"How can you just sit here and still talk to me after all of this?"

"This, as in after what you've done?"

Quinn shook her head, Rachel sometimes wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, "yes."

The diva fought to keep eye contact. She wanted to be honest but Quinn's curiosity was starting to make her nervous. "I see the good in people, Quinn."

"How do you know there even is any good in me?" she asked so genuinely that it made Rachel's heart ache. She can't see herself how Rachel does. Why did it hurt her so much?

"You are your worst critic, Quinn."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Rachel sighed, "what I mean is, I see you through a different set of eyes. You've been hurt, Quinn. And I think that you feel the need to be worse to others in order to maintain such a cool and clean shield."

"Sometimes, I…" the blonde turned away. Her voice faded to nothing. It left Rachel at the edge of her seat.

"Yes?"

Quinn continued to stare out the window. Her voice was barely audible, "sometimes, I wish I were like you."

Rachel almost laughs, "no, you don't."

The blonde shot a look at Rachel that almost knocked her off her chair. "Yes, I do." Seeing how startled the other girl looked, she looked down and spoke more slowly, as if she were thinking aloud, "I wish I could just be." She paused for a bit, but then her hazel eyes bubbled up and looked into chocolate orbs, "how do I do that?"

"That really isn't a question you should be asking me, but rather a question you should be asking yourself."

Her eyes narrowed as if asking herself right then and there, "I don't know how to answer it."

A small smile tugged at the end of the brunette's lips, "it'll come in time. Good things come to those who wait."

Quinn shook her head and her eyes averted to the ground. "I'm not very patient."

"I've noticed," said Rachel accompanied with a chuckle.

The room fell silent. Quinn toyed with the ends of her hair. She didn't quite know what to say now. She was actually bonding with Rachel again. It felt kind of nice in a weird way. A weird way because deep inside there was still an awkward feeling like she'd never be good enough to be anything but her enemy. It wasn't…right.

After a while, the blonde looked back at the other girl. "Do you hate me?"

Rachel's expression faltered. "No." She doesn't even flinch. "I've told you that many times."

Quinn still doesn't believe it. "I know," she slowed her tone, trying to be careful with what she says, "but most of the time I think it's what I want to hear."

"Well, I don't."

Quinn could feel tears moisten the sides of her eyes. It was stinging a bit, and her lips were threatening her with the urge to smile, but she doesn't. The room falls silent once more and she waits to gather the courage to ask her next question.

"Do you think I could change?"

The way the blonde asked this simple question weighs heavy on the brunette's heart. She's trying. She's really trying. Rachel was slightly overwhelmed for a few seconds. She took a deep breath. Somehow, she can't bring herself to look up.

"I think you could if you really wanted to."

"It's hard."

"No one said it'd be easy."

"I'm scared," Quinn blurted before she could stop herself.

It caught Rachel by surprise, "no one said it'd be opposite."

"What if no one likes me?"

Again, Rachel was baffled, she almost stutters, "do you see who you're talking to?"

Quinn smiled a bit, but then frowned, "yes, but-"

Rachel is quick to interject, "listen, Quinn," she begins, "there are about 7 billion people on this earth. Don't you think at least one of those people is bound to like you?"

Quinn looked up and laughed, "that's a really dumb thing to say."

The other girl did a double take. "How so?" she asked, confused.

"Because," Quinn retaliated, "how am I supposed to find that one person? That's like searching for needle in a haystack."

Rachel's voice was almost inaudible, "well, you've got me…"

Everything about the way Rachel said that made the ex-cheerleader blush. "Thanks, Rach," her head rolled back forward and she tried to make the flush go away before adding, "but we're like cats and dogs. We're not supposed to get along."

All Rachel could do was blink at Quinn with the biggest pokerface the blonde had ever seen.

"What?"

Still blinking, Rachel replies a bit deflated, "I guess change shouldn't come as fast as I assume. Maybe I should learn to be patient."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I guess." Rachel sighed.

Quinn shakes her head. "No, it really isn't. I have this mentality-everything is just so twisted."

"It's society's fault, not yours. It's what you were taught."

Quinn frowned, "but don't you think I should know better by default?"

"Only really intuitive people know on their own despite what they see and what they've 'learned'."

"Maybe I think too highly of myself?" The blonde questioned, more rhetorically than anything. She sounded defeated.

Rachel shook her head slowly in disagreement, "no," her eyebrows furrowed, "I don't think it's like that."

"Then what's it like?" Quinn's head cocked to the side in thought.

"I don't quite know how to explain it."

The taller girl smiled coyly, "wow, Rachel Berry's run out of words again?"

Rachel was quick to fire back, "shut it, Fabray."

Her arms shot in the air, "ouch," she laughed once more, "bite hard, don't you?"

A shade of bright pink shot ever the other girl's face, her voice nothing more than a whisper, "don't use that tone with me."

The blonde felt her face blush, too, "there wasn't a tone."

"Sure…" the diva said skeptically.

Quinn put them back on track, "okay, so what were you saying?"

"I think you have it in you to be a better person."

A warm feeling developed in the pit of the ex-cheerio's stomach. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Rachel smiled, but didn't look up, "You just need someone to believe in you."

It had been a while since anyone told Quinn they believed in her. Actually, if she really thought about it, Rachel was the last person to say anything of the sort. Her mind pretty much turned to mush for a little bit as she asked, "like a cheerleader?"

The diva beamed, "Yes, like a cheerleader."

The other girl dismissed the smile, walls beginning to build on their own, "I don't really want one, though. I like to think I have control of things."

Rachel's face fell a bit. She wished Quinn would give in.

"Everyone needs someone, Quinn."

The statement threw off the blonde. It was just against everything she believed in. "No, that's not how it's supposed to work."

"But-" Rachel tried to argue her point, but Quinn wasn't having it.

"Rachel, people aren't trustworthy."

There was a small knot in her stomach automatically combusted at the sound of Quinn's words, "I-"

Quinn lifted her hand and looked to the window, "Don't say you are." The blonde shook her head slowly. Something about what she was thinking was hurting the other girl without her even speaking, "I can't let you be that person for me, Rachel."

The room fell silent. The shorter girl fidgeted with her fingers, "Why not?"

"Because," the words barely whispered on the other girl's lips. "I can't hurt you anymore."

"Quinn…"

Rachel's heart beat heavy and slow, as if it had run for miles and its legs could barely hold it up. Her eyes watered and a ball formed in the back of her throat.

"What?"

Quinn's voice was distant. The diva had gotten lost in all the conversations shared between herself and the girl sitting across from her throughout the years. There weren't very many, but they always tended to be about something serious. The tension between them was always at an all time high and all the words out of the mouth of either of them were pure.

"What, Rachel?"

How many times would it take for either of them to realize that there was something? Their connection had always been deeper and more mature; yes, even in the times when they were both being selfish. The weight of their relationship, however messed up, was always something to ponder at.

"Rach?" Quinn tried one last time before she thought she'd have to go and slap the shorter girl.

"There's just," Rachel began. It's amazing how she couldn't render the words, "something about you, Quinn."

The tone Rachel used caused the taller girl to frown, "okay…"

"You're like a mystery."

Quinn nodded, not sure what she was agreeing to, "right."

"You're so complex."

There was a snort, "yeah, I get that."

The mere fact that Rachel was stumbling on her words was hilarious, "No, no, I mean..."

"Spit it out!"

Rachel cringed, "I can't really say what I want to say without you maybe freaking out."

Her face hid in her hands and Quinn's stomach shot into knots, "Oh."

"Yeah," she muffled back.

Somehow, after a few moments of silence, Quinn picked up on what Rachel couldn't say out loud, "you know, I can't."

"I never even knew you'd consider it."

"I never said I did."

"You kind of did just now."

"Well, either way, it'd be wrong."

Rachel shot her a glance, "says who?"

Quinn could feel her walls shoot up. "Says my entire existence, Rachel." The blonde's hairs started to rise on her arms, "my religion, my parents, everyone."

"Not everyone, Quinn."

Mental images of Rachel's two fathers rose up in her mind. Images of Kurt and Blaine. Images of Brittany and Santana. Why did she still think it was so wrong, yet she was so accepting of her friends and Rachel's parents? Her stomach tightened. Her mentality was so far out of whack.

"Well, it just wouldn't be right for me."

"I see," Rachel said, rejected. Her eyes wandered away but landed right back on Quinn. The other girl looked down immediately and Rachel thought she'd done the wrong thing by even mentioning anything; by entering the room; by reading her journal; by doing anything and everything wrong all the time.

"I'm sorry I remotely brought it up."

"It's okay, Rachel. You're not the most subtle in the bunch, anyway. I think you might even be less subtle than Santana."

Quinn chuckled at the thought, but Rachel wasn't too fond of what she'd just heard. "Whoa, that's a little much."

Ah, the infamous Fabray eyebrow.

"Yeah, okay, I see where you're coming from."

"I guess," she looked at Rachel, "I did consider it, though."

"What?"

"You and me."

"R-really?" She had no idea how the words even escaped her mouth.

Quinn nodded, "well, from my perspective, boys suck. They just can't do anything right. Or maybe I'm the one doing things wrong?"

"I think you're pretty okay," Rachel said, dusting imaginary things off the desk, "aside the cheating."

"Yeah, I need to work on that."

"I think you need to work on yourself before you can work on others."

"You've got a point."

"Mhmm."

"See, another reason why you can't be that person for me, Rachel."

"I don't need you to protect me."

"Someone's gotta."

Quinn looked down. Rachel looked up. "What?"

Everyone needs someone, Quinn.

"Right," the diva corrected herself, "I should watch what I say to you. You actually pay attention."

"See, boys do suck."

"Yes, they do."

The room fell silent.

"Thank you." Quinn couldn't bring herself to look up.

"For?"

She continued to watch her hand like it was going to transform into a robot or something, "for hearing me out, I guess?"

"You don't have to thank me for being a decent person, Quinn."

She still didn't look up, and whispered, "no one else would have."

"Well, that's on them."

"It doesn't matter," she shook her head slightly, "I still want to thank you."

"Okay."

"And, Rachel?"

The brunette begged Quinn to look at her in her mind. "Yes?"

"If it seems like nothing has changed in the halls tomorrow, please don't…" her voice trailed off and she refused to keep eye contact with Rachel.

"Don't, what, Quinn?"

Hazel eyes were playing tennis from one of Rachel's eyes to the next. Her mind kept telling her not to speak, but her heart needed company. She needed to know that Rachel could be her little cheerleader no matter how badly her ego said no.

"Just don't give up on me, okay?"

Rachel's whole body ached. The thought of doing that to Quinn felt beyond foreign to her. They might not have gotten along, but Rachel never thought any less of Quinn, ever. Lost in thought, she begun to stand and she walked over to Quinn. The other girl's eyes seemed frightened.

"Rachel?"

Rachel finally stood in front of the ex-cheerio, her arch nemesis, her tormentor, her…friend.

"I don't think I could ever give up on you, Quinn."

And it took everything in her to bend down and kiss the blonde on the cheek and walk away.