Rachel doesn't say a word on the drive home.

It isn't until they've set foot inside their house that she speaks.

"Unzip me," she says, turning her back to her fathers and when Leroy does as she demands, she sheds her dress right there in the foyer. She's never really had a sense of modesty, there's no room for it in the theater.

"I'm going to bed," she informs her parents as she heads for the stairs.

"What do you want us to do with your dress?" Hiram asks.

Rachel pauses and looks dispassionately at the crumpled heap of white fabric on the floor. "Burn it."

#

They don't do as their daughter dramatically requests. Hiram hopes that after a good dry cleaning they'll be able to return the dress to the store and get a full refund. The cost of the wedding that never was already far too high.

#

It's five in the morning but that doesn't stop Rachel from going about her full pre-bedtime routine.

Routines are important to keep things in order. Without them the world would fall into chaos and nothing would make sense anymore. Deviate from routine, do things that shouldn't be done, and unexpected things tend to happen. Things like friends getting t-boned by trucks. Routines are important.

The sky is beginning to lighten as Rachel emerges from the bathroom to find a glass of water waiting for her on her bedside table. There's a note from her fathers underneath it that tells her to try and get some rest and they'll talk about everything that's happened once they've all had a good sleep.

She sips at the water and feels nothing, as a gesture of comfort it is woefully inadequate.

#

She gets into bed and tries to sleep but she can't stop thinking about Quinn. She hasn't stopped thinking about Quinn since that afternoon. She keeps seeing the accident in her mind's eye, over and over again. The impact, Quinn being tossed around the interior of her car like a rag doll as it flipped. Her body, bloody and broken, trapped in the twisted wreckage. Rachel had thought that getting out of the hospital and being at home, where she'd be surrounded by distractions, would help. But it wasn't helping, it wasn't helping at all.

Rachel rolls over, burying her face in her pillow, and tries to force herself to go to sleep.

She had always considered her active imagination a blessing. It always made it easy for her to step into a character's shoes; easy to think what they think, feel what they feel.

Now the very thing she'd always considered a gift had become a curse.

Quinn must've been so scared, in so much pain and soalone. That's the part that really gets to Rachel. That Quinn was all alone out there on that road with nobody to comfort her. She could've died thinking that nobody would care, that she wouldn't be missed, and they wouldn't have even known until it was too late. She and Finn would've been married before the news reached them.

Bile unexpectedly rises up in the back of her throat at the thought. Leaping from her bed, Rachel barely made it to the toilet before throwing up.

All that comes up is bitter, watery bile, a reminder that she hasn't eaten since breakfast the day before and even then that meal had been light. She'd been feeling nauseous all day, between Regionals and the wedding, her nerves had been shot. Rachel had thought it was just totally normal pre-wedding jitters, she knows now that it was a sign. It was a sign and she ignored it.

She'd ignored a lot of things.

#

Rachel doesn't really know what she's doing here.

When she'd left her home, she'd done so with every intention of returning to the hospital, even though she knew she wouldn't be allowed to see Quinn.

But instead she'd somehow ended up on the doorstep of an apartment she'd never been to before, who's address had only been given to her to use in the case of an emergency. She supposed that this would qualify.

Barely aware of the fact that it's just past seven in the morning, she presses the doorbell.

Only a few seconds pass before the door is swung open and she comes face to face with an older, more haggard looking, version of herself.

"Rachel," Shelby breathes in surprise.

"Hello, Shelby. I hope I didn't wake you."

"No. I've...uh, no."

"I need to see Beth." The child was clearly awake, Rachel could hear her crying.

Shelby knows what this is about. Puck had, very grudgingly on his part she's sure, sent her a text message last night informing her of Quinn's accident. "Of course," she says softly, stepping to allow her dau- Rachel. To allow Rachel into the apartment.

"She's been crying all night," Shelby explains as she shuts the door and turns to Rachel, who seemed to be frozen on the spot. "I haven't been able to get her to settle. At first I thought it might have been all the sugar she had yesterday but now...well," she trails off.

Rachel fights down the urge to vomit again as she takes in the decorations adorning the room and wrapping paper that was still strewn across the carpet. There's a banner that reads "Happy Birthday, Beth!" pinned up on the wall above the fireplace. Yesterday was Beth's birthday. Two years ago yesterday, Quinn had been in the hospital, bringing a new life into the world, and now she's in the hospital fighting to keep one from leaving it. It wasn't fair.

"Rachel?"

She jumps when Shelby tentatively touches her arm. "You had a party?"

This is where Quinn should have been yesterday. At her daughter's birthday party, not in her car on her way to a wedding she didn't even agree with. Rachel hadn't even thought about the significance of the date when she'd decided it was a good idea to get married after Regionals, she didn't think about what it would mean to Quinn and Puck. It didn't so much as cross her mind. I'm so selfish.

"Yeah. I know it's a little silly, she's not even going to remember it but it was nice. We had a bunch of kids from her daycare over. Really it was less of a birthday party and more like a big playdate but with cake."

Rachel hums politely and moves to follow Beth's wails to the nursery.

Her heart breaks at the sight of the distraught toddler. Beth's standing in her crib, shaking the bars, red-faced and screaming her lungs out as tears streamed from her hazel eyes.

Without thinking about it, Rachel crosses the room and scoops the crying child up. She balances her against her hip like she's done it a thousand times before.

Beth's cries die down from earsplitting shrieks to gulping sobs as Rachel rubs her back and rocks her gently. She stares at Rachel with utterly miserable eyes and reaches out a tiny hand to grab at her face. Even as Beth's sharp little fingernails dig into her cheek, Rachel smiles for the first time in nearly fifteen hours.

"She likes you," Shelby says from her position in the doorway.

"She looks so much like Quinn," Rachel murmurs, not taking her eyes off the toddlers face. The pictures in Quinn's locker hadn't done the little girl justice.

Seemingly all cried out, Beth lets out a heaving sigh and nestles her head against Rachel's shoulder. Her eyelids flutter as she tries to fight a losing battle against sleep.

"She does," Shelby agrees uneasily. Watching Rachel soothe Beth to sleep so easily, something she had spent the entire night trying to do herself, she's never felt more like a spare part. Why was it that her daughter seemed to respond better to practical strangers than she did to her?

"You should sit down," she says, gesturing to the rocking chair next to the crib. "I'll go and make us some tea."

Rachel nods to let Shelby know that she's been heard and carefully lowers herself into the chair, not wanting to jostle Beth too much and wake her from her light slumber.

She tilts her head, letting her cheek rest atop the baby's head. Holding Beth in her arms is a source of comfort, a tangible reminder that there was a part of Quinn, no matter how small, that was still living and breathing. That would go on living and breathing no matter what happened.

The soft, rhythmic puffs of breath against her neck lull Rachel into relaxing. Her eyes start drooping shut as exhaustion -physical and mental- starts to catch up with her.

She does the responsible thing, as much as it pains her, gently laying Beth back into her crib before she can fall asleep and drop her. The baby immediately starts fussing at the loss of contact but settles when Rachel reaches an arm through the bars to stroke her hair.

#

When Shelby returns to the room, she finds both girls asleep. Rachel's body is contorted in a way that couldn't possibly be comfortable, with her head resting against the side of the crib, one arm stuck through the bars. Beth's tiny fingers have Rachel's thumb caught in an iron grip, she wasn't going to be getting that hand back anytime soon.

Unable to bear waking either of them, Shelby takes a blanket, drapes it over Rachel and leaves, closing the door behind her.

#

Rachel awakes with a start, jerking so quickly that she nearly spills out of the rocking chair she'd been sleeping in.

She's disorientated when she takes in her darkened surroundings. For a few terrifying seconds she thinks that one of her worst fears, of being kidnapped out of her own bed, has come true until she remembers where she is and why she's there.

Damn.She fishes her phone out of the pocket of her oversized gray cardigan and checks it. She's relieved to see that there are no messages or missed calls. No news is good news. No news means that Quinn is still alive.

Running a hand through her hair, Rachel peers over the top of the crib. Beth is still sleeping soundly, thank god for small mercies, curled up around a soft plush lion. Rachel reaches down and softly strokes the little girl's head for a moment before drawing back to leave the nursery in search of Shelby.

She finds her sitting on the couch. The decorations have been taken down, all evidence of there having been a party has been cleared away and for that Rachel is grateful.

"How long was I out?" she asks as Shelby notices her presence and gets up, heading for the kitchen area.

"Not long," says Shelby. "A little over an hour. You two looked so peaceful together that I couldn't bring myself to wake you. Besides, you look like you needed the rest."

"I did, thank you," Rachel says quietly, taking a seat at the table while Shelby makes tea for them both. Black, one teaspoon of honey with a twist of lemon. Just the way she's always liked it. "So you've heard what happened to Quinn?"

Shelby nods, setting the mugs down on the table, and takes the seat across from her. "Noah texted me that she'd been in a bad car accident. Is she going to be okay?"

Rachel sips at her hot drink without waiting for it to cool and relishes the way the boiling liquid scolds her throat on the way down. "They don't know. They said that if she survives she could be paralyzed."

"That's terrible," Shelby murmurs, sipping at her own hot drink. "I thought I'd take Beth to the hospital later to visit."

"I'll come with you." It's not a request, it's a demand. Rachel knows that Shelby won't dare to deny her, she owes her too much.

Rachel turns the hot mug in her hands, contemplating Quinn's prognosis in a way that she hadn't been able to before when her mind had been so preoccupied with the crash that there was no room for her to think about the aftermath.

"She'd hate that, you know. Being paralyzed. Quinn's a dancer," she murmurs absently. "She'd rather be dead than not able to walk." Of that Rachel is absolutely certain.

She thinks about Finn's friend, Sean, about how he tried to kill himself by driving his wheelchair into a swimming pool after his accident. She remembers what Kurt told her about what Quinn said about Karofsky, about how she could never imagine getting to that point. Rachel wonders if Quinn had ever imagined this happening to her.

"It's my fault," she chokes out, suddenly overcome.

"Rachel, I know that when something like this happens to someone close to you, it's natural to feel guilty but-"

"No, it was. Quinn had been against the wedding from the start. She tried to tell me that I was making a huge mistake, that I would ruin my life if I married Finn, but I didn't listen. She only agreed to come to the stupid wedding to make me happy. If I'd just listened to her then none of this would be happening."

All Shelby can focus on are the words wedding, married and Finn. "Rachel," she says sharply. "Are you pregnant?"

"No."

"Did you not get into NYADA?"

"I don't know yet, I'm a finalist. Auditions are in May."

"Then perhaps you'd like to explain to me why you were apparently going to get married yesterday."

"I...I don't know," Rachel tearfully admits. There were reasons she wanted to marry Finn yesterday. There must have been, she's sure of it, she just has no idea what they are anymore. "It wasn't supposed to happen until graduation but then Dave Karofsky tried to kill himself and...I don't know. It all seems so stupid now."

Now? It seemed stupid now? Shelby was, in a word, furious. Furious that Rachel had so much potential, had so many opportunities open to her -opportunities that Shelby would've killed for at her age-, and she was apparently willing to throw it all away for a high school romance. Furious that the men she had entrusted to raise Rachel were allowing it to happen. "Rachel, you know that I don't have anything against Finn, but do you really think that tying yourself down to your high school boyfriend is a good idea when you have such a bright future ahead of you?"

Rachel just ducks her head and stares down into into her tea.

Shelby sighs contemplatively at the younger girls silence. "You know, I grew up in Ohio. In a town even smaller than this one. My mother passed away when I was very young and my father and I...well, we were never close. Growing up, musicals were like my best friends, they were a world that I could escape to that always seemed to make my life just that little bit brighter. I knew what I wanted to do and exactly what I wanted to be from a very early age. But my school didn't even have an arts program and my family didn't have much money, I couldn't afford lessons, so I taught myself how to sing and dance and act. That's how badly I wanted it."

"After I graduated from high school, I couldn't afford to go to college, NYADA wasn't even a pipe dream for me, I didn't even have enough money for a bus ticket to New York. But then I saw your dads ad in the paper and I met with them, sang for them, told them my story and eventually they chose me to have you-"

"Because of your talent."

"Yes. But also because they admired my ambition and drive, they were qualities that they wanted their child to share. They paid me enough to live in New York for two years. So I had you and went to New York, found myself a tiny studio apartment in the Bronx and I just started auditioning, for anything and everything. Broadway, off-Broadway, theater in the park; I didn't care what it was as long as I got to be on stage. I'd only been in town for three weeks before I landed my first role, Shelia in an off-off-Broadway production of Hair. The show was truly terrible and it closed after only six days." Shelby smiles fondly at the memories of drunken directors, a hapless leading man and playing to a practically empty house on their closing night. "But it boosted my confidence, having the experience under my belt. Then I met Simon; he'd just moved into the apartment across from mine and worked in construction. He was sweet and charming and very handsome and I thought that I loved him. Eventually I started spending more and more time with him and less auditioning and before I knew it two years had passed, I was out of money, and I had nothing to show for it except one lead role in a failed production and a relationship with a man who ended up leaving me for a Denny's waitress."

Rachel bristles at the idea that she'd ever allow the same thing to happen to her. "You know, I think it's a little bit late for you to be trying to give me motherly advice."

Shelby flinches. "I'm not. That's not what this is. This is the advice of a failed performer, someone whose dreams were exactly the same as yours but never came true. I just don't want you to make the same mistakes that I did. Rachel, it's hard in New York, harder that you could ever imagine and if you truly want all your dreams to come true then you cannot afford to let anything or anyone distract you from your goal."

Rachel laughs bitterly. "You sound like Quinn."

"Well, Quinn was right. You know, insane schemes aside, she is a very smart girl. I know that you may think that Finn is the love of your life right now but, Rachel, you haven't even begun to live yet, there is so much out there that you haven't seen, so much that you don't know. First loves are called that for a reason, because there are always second loves and thirds and fourths. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"I think maybe I do."

#

"We're here to see Quinn Fabray, please."

The gray haired ICU nurse, who's name tag reads Gloria, behind the desk barely looks up from her computer. "Family only. Sorry."

"This is her daughter, Beth."

This time the nurse does look up, she takes off her reading glasses letting them dangle from the chain around her neck. It draws Rachel's attention to the silver cross also dangling there. It figures, she thinks, that someone who works in a place like that where they probably saw miracles every day would be religious.

"Her daughter?" Gloria drawls, looking at Beth skeptically.

"Yes. Her daughter," Rachel says indignantly. "Quinn gave birth to her exactly two years ago yesterday, you can check her medical records." When the nurse looks like she's not going to budge, Rachel decides it's time to bring out the big guns.

"Please," she begs, tears welling in her eyes right on cue. "This may be the last chance this little girl will ever have to see her mother alive. Do you really want to be the one to deprive her of that?"

Beth plays her part perfectly, her little face crumpling into a frown and chin quivering as she looks at the nurse with those sad hazel eyes of hers. Rachel's never been more proud, only two years old and Beth already has such a flair for the dramatic.

The nurse sighs and then relents. "Alright. But only one of you can go in with her and only for an hour at a time."

Rachel nods eagerly, willing to abide by the strict rules as long as it means she'll get to see Quinn. "Thank you."

"She's in Room 4," Gloria informs them, then slips her reading glasses back on and turns her attention back to the computer screen.

Rachel looks back at Shelby, who has been silent the whole time, for permission. Shelby nods at her and hands her Beth's diaper bag. "You take her. I'll wait for you down in the cafeteria."

"Thanks."

#

Rachel pauses outside the door to Quinn's room.

"Don't be afraid," she tells Beth but really she's talking more to herself than the baby in her arms.

The second she lays eyes on Quinn, Rachel wants to run out of the room and tell Gloria that there has been a terrible mistake. That's not Quinn Fabray. It can't be.

The girl in the bed is barely recognizable; her head is swaddled in bandages, there's a tube stuck down her throat that's connected to the machine that is breathing for her, and her face, Quinn's beautiful face, is a mess. Swollen, covered in cuts and bruises that are so deep they're almost black.

It's enough to bring tears to Rachel's eyes. "Oh Quinn."

Beth whimpers, reminding Rachel that she needs to keep it together for her sake, if nothing else.

There's a chair on either side of the bed and Rachel doesn't know where to sit as both sides have potential obstacles that will make hand holding difficult; Quinn's left hand is encased in a cast and her right has the IV drip running into it and some kind of monitoring device clipped to her index finger.

She chooses to sit on the right, for the simple fact that Quinn's left eye is swollen shut and that kind of ruins the illusion that she's just sleeping peacefully, and ends up gripping onto Quinn's pinky finger for dear life.

"Quinn," she begins. "I don't know if you can hear me or not, I hope you can. I know that they say it's good to talk to coma patients, that they can hear you and it can help them wake up, but I assume it's a little bit different for people in medically induced comas."

Rachel's fairly certain that Quinn's doctors would not be happy if she ended up talking Quinn out of the coma they'd intentionally put her in.

"It's Rachel, by the way, if you couldn't already tell, and Beth's here too. You were right, she is perfect, she looks just like you," she says, looking adoringly at the little girl who stares back with curious eyes. "She has your cute little elf ears and your chin and your eyes and your hair and, once she loses her baby fat, I'm pretty sure she'll have your cheekbones too. She even has your eyebrows. I have to be honest, I don't see much of Noah in her at all."

Beth raises an eyebrow at her and Rachel is filled with envy, she's never been able to pull that off. It must be genetic.

"I spoke to Shelby about you, I told her how well you've been doing and how you got into Yale. She said that when you wake up you can spend time with Beth whenever you want." With the stipulation that someone else is present at all times but Rachel didn't feel like it was the appropriate time to bring that up. "Shelby's subbing at Carmel for now but she's thinking about going back to New York at the end of the school year but that'll be good, right? New Haven's not that far away, you could visit Beth on weekends if you wanted to. Maybe you could even come and visit me and Kurt."

They could have picnic lunches in Central Park and take in Broadway shows in the evening, Quinn could even stay the night at their apartment before they had to bid a tearful goodbye the next day at Grand Central Station. It would be perfect.

"I just...I want you to know that you're not alone, Quinn. I know that you've always felt like somewhat of an outsider but we all care about you, so much, and we all love you and really want you to be okay. You need to be okay, Quinn. You have to be. I need you to be...I need you to be because I can't imagine a world without you in it."

There's so much more that Rachel wants to say, it's all there on the tip of her tongue but she can't seem to find the words. So she decides to do what Rachel Berry does best.

There are only five people in the whole world that Rachel has a "Songs to sing at _'s bedside while they're in a coma" playlist dedicated to. Quinn is one of them.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise."

She barely makes it through the first verse before bursting into tears.

#

When Rachel returns with Beth the next day, she finds the room unexpectedly occupied by three women; Judy Fabray, Sue Sylvester and a red haired woman wearing a white lab coat. Neither Judy or Sue seem surprised by her presence nor do they protest it. The woman in the lab coat is introduced to her as Dr. Amanda Ferguson, a thoracic specialist.

Apparently Quinn is breathing over the ventilator and Dr. Ferguson wants to take her off it to see if she's ready to breathe properly on her own.

Rachel wants to protest -it's only really been two days since the accident, surely it's too soon- but Sue puts a hand on her shoulder and leans down to speak into her ear. "Relax, Streisand. Q's a fighter, she's going to get through this."

So Rachel swallows down her concerns and clutches Beth tighter to her chest as the doctor temporarily shuts off the ventilator.

Rachel holds her breath and 'Keep breathing, Quinn. Just keep breathing,' becomes her internal mantra. She cries tears of relief and pride when Quinn does.

#

Four days after the crash, the police release their accident report. It says that Quinn was at fault, even though the other driver was drunk. It says that she was speeding and ran a stop sign. It says that she ran the stop sign because she was distracted. It says that she was distracted because she was texting.

That night Sue Sylvester dedicates her segment of Sue's Corner to exposing the dangers of text messaging while driving. That night Rachel locks herself in her room with her cell phone and refuses to speak to anyone.

#

Every day after school, Rachel spends the hour that Glee club meets holding a vigil at Quinn's bedside instead. She sings a lot of Beatles songs; Beth is especially fond of Here Comes The Sun and Octopus's Garden so she sings those the most. She never attempts to sing Blackbird again.

She hasn't really spoken to her friends since the ill fated wedding. Ever since the accident report was released, blame had shifted entirely on to her, rather than Finchel as a whole. She doesn't blame them.

Finn is relentless in his attempts to try and communicate with her, despite her request for space at this difficult time. It's exhausting and wearing on her last raw nerve because when she does talk to him all he wants to do is talk about is how soon they can reschedule the wedding.

Not for the first time, Rachel ponders the accuracy of the accusations that she was the selfish one in their relationship.

#

Quinn spends six days in a medically induced coma before the doctors feel comfortable enough to start bringing her out of it.

Sue, Judy and Rachel take turns sitting with her, they don't want her to be alone when she regains consciousness. It's just dumb luck that Rachel is the one sitting beside her when she does.

When Quinn lets out a quiet moan, it's not exactly cause to get excited, she'd been doing it on and off all day. It's when Quinn's eyelids begin to flutter open that Rachel scrambles for the call button.

Quinn's eyes open and she looks around without any real sense of awareness. Her head feels fuzzy, like it's been stuffed with cotton candy, and her mouth is so dry that her tongue feels like sand paper. Where had her octopus friends gone?

"Quinn?"

Her attention is drawn to the girl at her bedside. She blinks so slowly that Rachel's fears that she's about to fall asleep again.

"Baby?" She finally rasps out.

Rachel frowns and squeezes her hand. "No, Quinn, Beth's not with me today."

Her head swimming with confusion, Quinn tries to sit up.

"Quinn, don't-"

It's then that it hits her. The pain. It's the worst she's ever experienced, even worse than childbirth. It's like the upper half of her body's been dipped in molten lava then rolled in shards of broken glass before being constricted by a giant anaconda. Every gasping breath she takes sends her into a fresh round of agony.

It hurts so much that it's almost a relief when she realizes that she can't feel anything below her waist.