AN: It's been a ride. Thank you for following along. I hope you enjoyed it!

Quinn brewed a cup of tea with shaking fingers as tears dripped and splattered against her hands. They made her neck feel sticky to the point where she wondered if the skin would ever be dry again.

After a lifetime of crying surely her neck would always be covered in a layer of dried salt.

Many a tear had dried on her skin. Tears of joy for getting accepted into college, walking again when she thought she never would, and when her daughter was born and she held her for the first time. Tears of exhaustion after physical therapy or following her first gymnastics class. Tears of anger at Finn for dumping her, again and at herself for being so caught up in a wedding she had to stop.

So many tears. How amazing was it that she could shed blood and see the scar left behind, but tears left no such reminder even when they scalded the surface they fell on. They would be wiped away, wiped clean, and it was as if they never were.

She'd cried and cried and cried for all sorts of things. Over time she learned to numb the sensation, to push down the feelings that brought that burning saline to her eyes.

She strapped on her armor, marched into battle, and came back with hidden marks. Bled underneath in secret.

It was always safer that way. Better to suffer in silence than to let them see you bleed. To let them see the weakness.

Her armor was gone now, though. She'd left it behind in the woods and walked out with tears in her eyes, her wounds oozing and on display for everyone.

People said that asking for help was a sign of strength not weakness.

Quinn always had to learn the hard way.

Now she had no protection against the storm of emotions clashing together in her chest that felt like a hurricane of massive proportions. Except she knew better now, too, because there were hands reaching for her, to pull her up, wipe her tears, and cover her wounds with tender care.

And she trusted them.

One hand, in particular, held on through it all keeping her safe and promising to warm the cold, beaten remains of her heart.

Rachel.

She was in love with her and that was the most terrifying truth of all.

Dangerous.

Wonderful.

Quinn had no idea what to do about it.

Her first true love had been her child. She'd held affection for lovers and imagined how amazing it would be to be truly in love with them; it never seemed to work out. She pretended it might but it always fell apart and she never knew what she'd done. Somehow she was so broken she couldn't love them right. They never stayed.

Rachel was different. It felt different. She'd always been different - been the one - in a way none of the others had been.

And how the hell was she supposed to say something about it? Declarations of feelings weren't her strong suit.

She wouldn't fake it either. Never again. Not with Rachel.

So she brewed tea in the kitchen alone in the middle of the night and cried because it hurt and it was confusing and Rachel needed her to do something.

Rachel woke up screaming the raw, choking, broken kind of screams. She pitched upward in the dark, back in the cabin safe and warm and alive, and screamed.

Quinn heard it still, bouncing around in her aching chest.

When she reached out to soothe and offer comfort as they usually did following a night-terror, Rachel hugged her. She pressed her face to the graveyard of tears on Quinn's neck and said, "Please."

Please, do something.

Please, help me.

Please.

Quinn rocked her and held her, stroked her hair, and kissed her face until Rachel quieted and laid back down. Once quiet, she left to make tea with shaking hands and a throat filled with words that she couldn't find her voice to speak. The tears had come rushing and she felt useless.

Tea! her scattered brain shouted. Make her tea, idiot. Make it better.

She frowned and cocked her head to listen for any sounds from the bedroom. For a sign that the demons that stalked their dreams had come back to try again. She would fight them off best she could. Rachel deserved that; she deserved more.

Quinn had tea, understanding, and her heart to give, all with a prayer that it would be enough.

"Quinn."

She jumped at the sound, smacking her hips into the counter and spilling tea on her hands. Rachel stood in the doorway entirely too adorable and heart-breakingly small in her oversized sweatshirt and long-johns. She wrapped one arm low around her stomach, hugging herself, and tussled her mussed hair.

"Rachel, I'm making tea," Quinn said with a squeak. She pouted at the mess she'd made, half the cup spilled on the counter and her hands. "I was making you tea. I'm sorry, I thought -"

"You left." Rachel ducked her head and leaned over against the doorway. "I woke back up when I realized you weren't in bed."

She shifted, red-rimmed eyes shining in the dim candlelight, and scratched the back of her calf with sock-clad toes.

There was something there. Something different. Quinn forgot how to breathe watching Rachel watching her. Maybe it was the candle. All the times they'd seen each other vulnerable it had been in the dark. Now she could see everything, from the tremble in Rachel's bottom lip to the damp sheen under her eyes.

Vulnerability. Fear.

Need.

Quinn cleared her throat and searched desperately for her words. You're supposed to be well-read and intelligent! Hello, Yale graduate, where are you? "Rachel."

Brilliant!

They stared and Quinn bit her bottom lip, unable to do anything else.

Rachel glanced away first. She took a deep breath, scratched at the back of her head, and then drew her hair over one shoulder.

Quinn tensed, waiting for it.

"What are we doing, Quinn?" Rachel asked in a thready whisper. Her chin wobbled but she straightened back up and pinned Quinn in place with a loaded, desperate look. "I thought I knew. I thought we were - but I'm confused, and I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Please, tell me."

Tell me.

Tell. Me.

Quinn swayed and planted a palm down on the counter to stabilize. Her head swam, jaw working over words.

Tell her?

Show her.

Be brave.

To hell with it. She crossed the distance between them in two quick strides. Rachel's breathing hitched as she dropped her arm and straightened. Quinn cupped her jaw, raised it, and dipped her head, eyes closing.

It was a simple kiss. Closed mouth. Not too much, not too fast. She wanted Rachel to have every opportunity to object or back away. Her hands shook with fear, with longing, and with the incredible sensation of finally.

She pulled back with her nose brushing Rachel's soft skin. The slightest of space between them felt too far, but she had to know. Had to see. Even if this ended in rejection - she had to.

"Does that -"

Rachel looped her arms around Quinn's neck and cut her off, kissing back harder while pulling them closer together.

Quinn flailed, her brain gone haywire, eyes rolling back. She whimpered and dropped her hands to Rachel's hips, wrapping her arms around her and holding her in place.

Her heart pounded in her ears almost drowning out the small sounds breaking the stillness of the cabin. Rachel's breath came out in a hard sigh as it rushed past Quinn's cheek. They hardly separated, changing angles, and grasping harder. Quinn slipped a hand under Rachel's sweatshirt to find hot skin at the small of her back. Rachel gripped a handful of Quinn's hair as the softest of sounds escaped with a tilt of her head.

Quinn was flying. Falling.

Crying.

Alive.

Rachel left a last, lingering, gentle kiss to the corner of Quinn's lips and dropped onto her heels. "Quinn."

"I love you," Quinn said, opening her eyes to see Rachel's were wet as well. So close to her own, big and full and staring at her as though she couldn't believe it either. She set her forehead against Rachel's, bumped their noses together. "I'm in love with you."

Teary eyed and so beautiful it hurt, Rachel surrounded her in the warmest of embraces. Like she was special and precious.

"I'm in love with you, too," she said.

Quinn sagged into her, vision swimming. She adjusted Rachel in her arms, delighted in the way Rachel raised her chin to accept another kiss. Quinn tried her damndest to pour every bit of herself into it, wanting to show her how she loved her. She hoped Rachel could feel it the same way she could when Rachel reciprocated, heard it in another sigh, and tasted it against a soft mouth.

Rachel pulled away again, eyes flickering back and forth across Quinn's features. She smiled, small and shy, and twined her fingers with Quinn's. "Get the candle."

In awe of all of it, Quinn followed as Rachel tugged at her towing her down the short hallway in a daze. The candle shook in her hand making their shadows dance to a feverish beat on the walls.

She licked at her lips, nerves rushing back and twisting her stomach up, as Rachel drew to a stop beside the bed. Their bed.

Theirs.

Rachel kept eye contact still wearing that smile and crossed her arms in front of her, hands grabbing the hem of her sweatshirt.

Quinn forgot how to breathe.

Her heart stopped.

Rachel pulled the faded red sweatshirt off, further tousling her hair. Dark eyes gleamed as she took the candle from Quinn's sweaty hand and set it on the nightstand. Pouty lips twitched in the barest of smirks. She sat on the bed, twisted a hand in Quinn's shirt, and pulled.

Quinn fell.

Rachel woke to a head of blonde hair resting on her chest. The pre-dawn light coming through the windows draped the bedroom in a grey-blue light that was just enough for her to be able to appreciate the sight before her. She smiled to herself, tired and a little sore, but happy.

Actually happy. No thoughts of what ifs and no worries yet. Nothing but comfort and warmth and safety in a nest of blankets with Quinn sleeping peacefully against her.

In love.

She smiled wider and almost laughed at the thought and the joyous feeling bubbling up her throat. A film of tears blurred her vision, obstructing her view. She blinked them away and covered her mouth while her other hand drifted along Quinn's back, fingers tracing lines of scars. She sifted through Quinn's messy hair and gently pulled out tangles.

Peace, she thought and closed her eyes. Peace.

Quinn mumbled and squirmed, muscles shifting and skin sliding as she huffed and tilted her head up without moving from her pillow on Rachel's breast. Hazel eyes blinked slowly, heavy with sleep and contentment. She smiled, even blushed a bit, before nuzzling against Rachel's chest. "Hi."

Rachel chuckled and stretched as best she could with the limp weight laying on her. "Hi."

"Do we have to get up?"

She peered at the nearby window. "Not for awhile."

Never? Is never an option? When's the last time I slept in?

Tension snapped into Quinn's muscles and she rolled to the side ignoring Rachel's groaned protest. She rubbed at her eyes and Rachel almost melted into a puddle at the gesture.

"Do we need to talk about…?" Quinn quirked an eyebrow, but didn't move her hand from its position resting just under Rachel's belly button.

"I love you," Rachel said. She rolled onto her side so they were face to face and tucked both hands under her cheek.

Quinn smiled, honest to God really smiled. "I love you."

"So, no, I don't think we need to talk about last night. Unless you want to?"

Quinn shook her head, leaned in, and dotted a kiss to the end of Rachel's nose, her cheek, and both eyelids. "No. My only regret is it took me so long to say anything."

"I don't care how long it took; I would have waited if you asked." Rachel hummed and chased Quinn's lips in a long good-morning kiss. It was a much better way to start her mornings than she had previously. No gunfire, no shouting, no dying, just Quinn's gentle mouth and sweetly bashful pillow talk. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not giving up. For being you. For loving me," she said, uncurling one fist to tuck blonde locks behind Quinn's ear. "For being the one to help me through this. For being the light at the end of the tunnel."

Quinn's cheeks darkened. "I - I'm not very good with being romantic. But you don't have to thank me for… I would still be lost if I hadn't found you."

"Saved me," Rachel corrected. "With a shovel."

"We saved each other," Quinn said. She reached out and scooted closer, dragging calloused fingertips down Rachel's arm and waist to her hip. "Sometimes I can't believe this is real."

"It's real." She sighed as Quinn repeated the lazy path making the hair on her arms and the back of her neck stand to attention. "We're really here. We're alive, and safe, and here."

"What do we do now?" Quinn asked huskily. "What - Things are wide-open. You - this - where do we go now?"

"We live," Rachel said, catching Quinn's hand and kissing her fingers. A thrill zapped through her at her own action, at the fact that it was allowed. Here - on the island, at the end of the world, in their bed, in their home - they could live. "You and me together - we stop surviving, we heal together, and we live."

Quinn smiled. "I'm having deja vu."

"You're ruining the moment." Rachel said and shook her head. "I was enjoying it."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Quinn said with a roll of her eyes. "Did my attempts at serious, adult conversation bother you?"

"No. You know I'm always here for those. Here for you." She cracked a grin, an honest-to-God, cheek-to-cheek grin. One that had been gone for too long and felt so great to have stretching her face again. She tugged at the blanket covering Quinn's chest, inching it down with tiny, intent tugs. "However I'm thinking that maybe we could table that for a bit longer? Since we don't have to get up yet?"

"Your wish is my command, Your Majesty." Quinn grinned and shifted up onto her arms, slipping easily across Rachel.

Rachel groaned at the nickname as their lips connected. "Not you, too. Can't you just say 'as you wish' instead?"

"Sure, absolutely. Or we could stop talking?"

"Excellent." Rachel grunted and rolled them over, grinning down at Quinn in triumph. There was something a little more thrilling in getting to be in charge of Quinn Fabray, and that she went along so easily.

They might have a ways to go as far as getting settled, getting better, and finding the new normal, but she felt here in their room, in their little cabin at the end of the world, they'd finally found a place to start.

END