Fifty Fifty

Summary: No one told her she'd be twenty-five and her chance of living was fifty fifty. No one told her that it'd make people bail, and some cling. No one told Quinn Fabray that she might have to deal with a life like this.

Ships: Eventual Quinntana, with mentions of Faberry and Brittana.

Warnings: Loosely based on the film 50/50, there are some major similarities in certain scenes, but I'm not going to be copying the film completely and it's been adjusted to fit the storyline I have in mind.

i. it's the end of the world as we know it

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

It was simple. It was instinct. It was repetition.

Quinn's lungs expanding and tightening. Air meeting blue blood and turning red as her breathing came out as evenly as she could as she pushed herself through the streets of Seattle. Pushed her body a little further until she came to an intersection. Her body moving in place, her breath coming in tendrils of white air as she inhaled, exhaled. Waiting...waiting to be allowed to cross.

Running in place. If she stopped now, she'd walk home. Walk home and make a quick pitstop by Dunkin' Donuts. That was the last thing she needed, any more carbs. She kept moving, her knees rising in the motion without the real movement as Kanye pounded a little too loudly through her earphones.

She needed the beat. The energy. To keep going, and not get caught up on the fact that Dunkin' Donuts was a little too close to her apartment.

Quinn was practically salivating by time the light finally changed. The white pedestrian lighting up and the cars stopping as she finally moved. Jogging until she reached the other side of the street, her hands leaving her sides and curving around the back of her spine as she bent over.

There was a knife. A knife slashing along her back, it had to be. The pain-it wasn't new, but lately it had gotten worse, and it was enough to knock the breath out of her right now.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Simple. It was simple, but right now, as the pain continued at the apex of her spine, Quinn was finding it a lot harder than normal. It had never been like this. Never had her bending over, her breath ragged as she tried to make it until it passed, until it was mild enough she knew that she could make it home easily.

Inhale.

A new song had made it's way to her ears, before she was able to straighten her back and pick up a new tempo. Jogging home wasn't an option, but a donut wasn't as appealing at the moment. Not when work loomed and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed.

Exhale.

"Jesse thinks that I've really pegged my solo. I mean-I've had more in older productions, but this one-" Rachel's voice was drifting in from the bathroom. It carried. Carried over the water that was running as Rachel washed her face. Quinn's fingers were shaking as she buttoned her oxford. Downing three Advil hadn't prevented her from fearing that a pain similar to what she had felt while running would hit her while she was at work, or at home, or anywhere, really. She was thankful that Rachel's voice was as loud as it was naturally. She needed to think about anything other than the pain in her back. "This one, I'm really working hard for. The producer says that this could make or break my future in the company. I mean, this could mean New York one day, Quinn. New York without having to work my way up there."

"Well, Jesse knows what he's talking about, doesn't he?" Quinn replied, softly, moving in from her bedroom to the adjacent bathroom, Rachel already pressing her face into her towel. Quinn's shoulder met the door frame as she smiled at her girlfriend. Rachel wouldn't have to go in for practice for a few more hours, but of course, unlike Quinn, Rachel put hours of effort into being Rachel Berry, the rising star of Seattle's acting community. And one day her girlfriend would be on a Broadway stage, it was just a matter of earning it.

At least, that's what Rachel said everytime they spoke about it.

Rachel's eyes met Quinn's in the mirror and a smile moved along her lips as she nodded, "He does, because I mean, he chose to stay here...if he hadn't, I might not take his word so seriously, but he could be doing anything, he just apparently has an attachment to this city." There is a slight roll of her eyes. Quinn knows that she doesn't respect that. That Rachel doesn't understand why anyone wants to stay in the city.

Quinn had been born and raised here. Had grown, lived and experienced the city until she had known it like a second nature. And it was where she had met her girlfriend. Dragging her best friend to a production of South Pacific. Rachel had looked almost ridiculous in the costumes and the story line was campy, but Quinn had found herself more focused on the brunette than the story about love that Roger and Hammerstein had written. And she knew it was worth it, the fact that she had forced Santana to stay after the show so she could ask the woman to sign her program...it had led to a number and now seven months later, she was watching as Rachel prepared for a day of practice for a much more serious role than she had been doing.

"I know that I can't wait until opening night." Quinn was grinning at her girlfriend as Rachel moved from the sink counter and was sliding past Quinn with a quick peck to her cheek.

"You're biased." Rachel chided as she strode into the bedroom, Quinn turned to keep watching her, her glancing moving only for a moment to check the time. She needed to get to work, but San wasn't here yet, and there was still a couple moments left of enjoying this part of the morning without thinking about the incident during her morning run.

HMMMPPHHHH! HHHMMMPPHHHH!

"Babe?" Rachel turned to look at Quinn, her eyes filled with annoyance at Santana's honking from the street outside their apartment. A smile was still playing along the blonde's lips, and she stopped walking to the door to shoot a look to Rachel. "Where are skirts?"

"They're in your drawer." Quinn spoke louder as Santana's hand met once again with the horn.

HMMMPPHH.

But, Quinn wasn't moving. She was standing still again, only this time, instead of staring at a light, she was staring into the bemused face of her girlfriend. "My drawer? I have a drawer?"

The smile wasn't playing anymore and it was fullblown again across Quinn's features. "Yeah...the bottom one...I figured it was...ya know, time." She was almost more worried about what Rachel'd say to that than she was when she had been doubled over in pain.

There was something like a squee that erupted from Rachel's throat. And then her arms were winding around Quinn's neck. Lips against lips. That warm feeling that came with Rachel's lips on hers, of her body pressed against Quinn's. Santana's soundtrack from downstairs the only thing that had Quinn pulling back with a groan. A whisper leaving her, "I gotta get to work."

With that Rachel was on the other side of the room, digging into her drawer. "It was time." She murmured to herself as Quinn left the apartment.

"I think it's stress, you know?" Simple. Rhythmic tapping against the steering wheel. "Stress that comes when you date supreme cunts."

Quinn had been listening. Hell, she had been open to Santana's opinion, until of course, she brought it back to Rachel.

"San-" Her tone was starting out warningly.

Dark eyes rolled back in their sockets, and Santana's foot was pressing a little harder on the gas as they made their way to work. "Just saying. This didn't really started until you started dating her."

"It's not because of Rachel." A sigh left Quinn, "And, I hope it is just stress. I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow, Rachel made me schedule it, actually."

"Of course, she did." Quinn watched as her best friend rolled her eyes again. "I just...I just don't get you with this girl. It's like she has a magical vagina that once it's touched, the toucher is blinded to seeing what a bitch she really is. I mean, all she does is talk about herself and her singing. Honestly, I'm surprised she even picked up on the fact you've been in pain."

Quinn had heard it before. Almost every car ride actually as they made their way to KVXT 87.9, working for a radio station meant that Santana refused to listen to radio stations. It was a combination of "it feels like work" according to the Latina and the fact that if she heard a story that was similar or better than hers, Quinn would have to deal with her best friend's quick temper and annoyance for the better half of the morning. So, they just left it off and for the past seven months, Quinn received a lecture on her choice of a girlfriend.

"Not to mention the fact that you're missing out on so much sex by being tied down." Santana's voice would go husky, as it did every time she tried to make this point. Thoughts of the last conquest flooding her mind and bringing that smile to her lips.

Quinn's nose wrinkled up, as it did everytime this was brought up. "I don't really see the appeal. I like being with Rachel, it's nice to be a part of something and not have to move from girl to girl and barely remember their names." Casual sex wasn't her deal, it had never been, though Santana seemed to forget this everytime she tried to get Quinn to join her at a club or a bar. "Maybe you should try it, settle down for a while. Sex with one person becomes something more meaningful than one night stands. It's...a great feeling, knowing that she's mine and I'm hers."

This earned Quinn a laugh...a laugh that had Santana choking on air as her palm slapped against the side of the steering wheel. Quinn's expression became steelier. Her lips tightening into a thin line as she glared at San.

"Y-yeah...whatever... you-say, Q." Santana struggled on her words a little as her laughter tried to subside as she eased the car off the street and into the parking garage. "Sounds...g-great."

Quinn's expression didn't ease up and she found that she was wishing Santana'd choke just a little longer.

Quinn Fabray never thought her life would be defined in two words.

Two words. Two that started to feel as though they were summing up twenty-five years of life. Of experiences. Of everything that she had been and would be. And it all came back to those two words.

It had been a week. A week since her first appointment with her doctor. A week since Rachel's arms had been around her neck, their bodies pressed together as they made one move to become more serious. One that had resulted in Rachel staying over more than she normally did during the week. Each night resulting in her lips pressing into that hallow of Rachel's throat that felt a little like home and anchored her more into the relationship that Santana mocked but Quinn cherished. One week.

There was a spiel of medical terms that she didn't quite understand. Coldly delivered into the doctor's recorder, until Quinn cleared her throat. "I don't...I don't understand." She had felt small when she said it, small because it sounded bad even though she didn't understand what he was saying.

And, now there were two words. Two words to sum it all up. Two words to only make her right in that gut feeling that told her it wasn't stress that caused her pain. Two words that her hands shaking in her lap and her eyes widened as the doctor delivered them.

Two words that she worried would define her. Two words that she was already wrapping around. Two words that almost blocked out everything else Dr. Barnhouse was saying. Her ears ringing as he went on to explain. Explain the two words and their origin. Their deeper meaning, but Quinn didn't see the point of a deeper explanation, because it was all clear.

Two words: malignant tumor.

Rare. Genetic mutation. Two words. On her spine.

Malignant tumor.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"Am...am I going to be okay?" Quinn's words slashed through another series of explanations, chemotherapy, surgery, it was all leaving the doctor's mouth, until it wasn't anymore.

A moment of hesitation, one that seemed to pass for hours. "We have an excellent trained staff should you need someone to talk to. I can recommend you to one of our best psychiatrists."

It was supposed to be simple. Stress related. A shifted disc. This wasn't simple.

Inhale.

AN: I have the rest of the fic outlined and while this chapter was very similar to the film, the rest will be taking its own turns.

Reviews are appreciated.