Chapter Text
The next morning, Quinn gives them all clothes they can bum around in while her mom makes them breakfast. Her mom doesn't care that they all drank last night because she knows they didn't drive and they all watched out for one another. Back in high school, her mother used to come down pretty hard on her every time she got caught drinking despite the fact her mother is this borderline alcoholic. But now that she's in college, her mom just wants her to be safe. She seems a little pissed that they got Rachel drunk, but it's clear her mom is just as charmed by Rachel as every other adult.
They're in her room after breakfast hanging out for a bit before everyone has to go home, when the t-shirt Rachel borrowed from her rides down, exposing part of her chest.
There's this scar in the middle of Rachel's chest, down the middle of Rachel's cleavage. It’s easily concealable with the right bra and shirt, but Rachel's not wearing a bra right now and her breasts aren't so pornographically enlarged that they’re all squished together like Pamela Anderson's. That's a lot of fixation on a 15 year old's breasts, but the point is, Quinn wasn't looking or anything, but she sees the scar anyway.
Rachel catches Quinn's stare, flushes a bright red and immediately pulls up her shirt so that it goes all the way up to her neck.
Santana sees and her face darkens. "Eyes up, Fabray."
Rachel's still a dark pink. "I-it's okay, San." She swallows visibly. "Um, t-the scar is from a heart transplant I had when I was two."
"You were 22 months old, Rach," Santana interrupts quietly.
Rachel rolls her eyes. "I had a heart defect called Anomalous Left Coronary Artery from the Pulmonary Artery. And when I was 22 months old," she said, casting a look at Santana, who rolled her eyes in response. "I had a heart transplant."
"Wow," Quinn said softly. She hazards a glance at Brittany, but the other blonde does not look surprised at all, so it's clear she must have known already. "How are you doing now?"
"I'm really good," Rachel says with a smile. "I was closely monitored when I was growing up, but there was no rejection or anything, so I'm really good now. I still follow up with my cardiologist, but really, I'm fine."
"Were you really sick as a child?" Quinn asks quietly.
"She had a heart transplant before she was even two, Q. What do you think?"
"San, be nice," Rachel scolds. "Yes, I was ill as a baby," she informs. "But I'm in perfect health now."
The thought of this kid as a sickly, dying infant-- and she must have been dying if she needed a goddamn heart transplant, breaks Quinn's heart.
It makes sense now to Quinn why Rachel refused to allow them into the fitting room with her when they went to the mall. Or why she chose to wear as one-piece swim suit rather than a bikini. Or why the tops Rachel wore tended to be really conservative, almost grandmotherly even though her skirts and shorts tended to border on slutty. In retrospect, Rachel is just so self-conscious about her appearance and it all makes sense now.
This poor kid.
The topic changes and they talk about how hilarious Tina Cohen-Chang is when she's drunk. Soon after, her friends go home. Quinn can't help but think of Rachel for the rest of the day.
--
Over the next few weeks, Rachel visits Quinn at work at least one or two days out of the week. Frequently more.
It starts out with the two of them hanging out when Quinn has her breaks and eating lunch together. But it soon morphs into Rachel hanging out in the gift shop. Rachel is considerate and doesn't distract Quinn when there are customers around-- she just thumbs through the books on the shelf. Quinn is certain that by now Rachel has read all the books the museum sells. There's always at least two people working in the shop at any given time, and no one, not even the manager, minds that Rachel is around.
Rachel makes good conversation and Quinn is certain that Rachel could talk to a piece of string. Most of the time, it's easy to forget their five year age difference.
In addition to Rachel's visits breaking up the monotony of Quinn's work days, Santana, Brittany and Quinn take Rachel to the beach at least once a week, and each time, they have an amazing time. They take Rachel out to parties, bonfires, the mall and the other few places they can take a 15 year old. Rachel also keeps spending a lot of time with Andy and his friends.
Santana, Brittany and Quinn continue to tease her about it, even though Rachel really does get kind of irate.
There's this unspoken pact between the three of them that they want to make this summer as amazing as possible for Rachel, and so far, Rachel seems like she's having a really great time.
She seems happy and carefree. One day, she gets a sunburn, but on her, it’s cute.
Then one day, Santana catches Rachel and Andy having sex at the house.
Santana is furious and kicks Andy out of the house. She yells at Rachel and makes the girl cry.
Quinn is perplexed by how angry Santana is-- Santana lost her virginity when she was 13 to Puckerman, and Santana's always had a fairly relaxed attitude toward sex. Before she and Brittany became exclusive, those girls were indiscriminately having sex with half the student body at McKinley.
"I'm not pissed that she's having sex, I'm pissed that she lied to me about it! She said she wasn't dating him!"
"Maybe they aren't dating, maybe it was just sex."
Santana looks furious. "Are you saying my cousin is a slut or something?"
"You were the one who used to say that sex isn't dating."
"Well, that doesn't include my 15 year old cousin!"
But the thing is, Santana is so unaccountably angry that she basically ignores Rachel. Yeah, they still hang out-- Santana would never ice Rachel out like that. But when they hang out, Santana just ignores Rachel and it's mean. Rachel does this thing where she hesitantly calls out to Santana, to ask her a question or offer her a brownie or a french fry or something, and Santana just rolls her eyes and doesn't respond.
It's mean and juvenile and Quinn points out repeatedly to Santana that she's not the 15 year old, Rachel is.
"You just don't get it," Santana snaps.
"Well, then explain it to me," Quinn says. She really doesn't understand why Santana is so pissed off, because she keeps on with the act even when Brittany threatens to cut her off sexually if she doesn’t stop being such a bitch to Rachel.
But Santana doesn't give any explanation.
It goes on for a week and Rachel brings it up when she visits her at work one day. They're grabbing lunch from the museum cafeteria while they talk about it.
"Is she really that mad at me?" Rachel asks, her voice shaking. She looks like she's going to cry, and oh God, Quinn really doesn't want the girl to start crying. She thinks anyone would be powerless at the sight of Rachel crying, because right now, Rachel just looks sad and Quinn's heart is already clenching. Rachel Berry has the saddest sad face. Add tears to that, and she could get the Pope to give her the Vatican just to make her smile again. And Rachel is a Jew.
"I think she'll get over it," Quinn says. "I really think it's just because you're only 15."
Rachel's voice wavers. "I didn't even really want to," she says, her voice cracking.
Quinn's heart stops. "What?"
Oh, if Rachel is going to say what Quinn is thinking, then that Andy kid is going to end up dead by the end of the day. He really is.
Rachel sees the look on Quinn's face and rushes to clarify. "No, no. Not like that. I wasn't forced or anything. Andy is a gentleman. He's wonderful."
Quinn sighs with relief. "Okay."
"I didn't really want to though," Rachel says, teary-eyed. "We've kissed and I didn't really want to do that either. But I just let the kissing happen, so when he…" she swallows hard. "When he started to push for more, it was…I didn't know how to tell him to stop. And it was…it was easy for me to keep him away from my chest. I could control that, so…I-I didn't even have to take off my shirt, so he never even saw my…" she swallows hard. "You know," she whispers. "The scar."
Quinn looks at her sympathetically. She didn't see the extent of the scar, but she could tell it was fairly large. "Honey, we all have things about our bodies we don't like."
"That's easy for you to say," Rachel sniffs. "You're perfect."
"Believe me, honey. I'm not perfect. And you're a really pretty kid."
Rachel blushes. "I…No…I'm not…I…"
Quinn smiles and reaches across the table to still Rachel's flailing hands. Rachel talks a lot with her hands and it's cute, but she really wants Rachel to listen carefully.
"Rachel, really. You are really beautiful. And you have nothing to be ashamed about."
Rachel clutches her hands over her chest, where the scar is, as though she's hiding it. Even though with the shirt she's wearing, there's no way it could be visible. "But it's so ugly," she says softly.
"It's not," Quinn assures gently. "Rachel, if the only reason you slept with him is because you thought you could get away with him not seeing a part of your body you're not comfortable exposing, then you're setting yourself up for a lot of heartbreak because it means you're always just going to settle for what's safe, not necessarily for what you really want."
Rachel looks like she's ready to sob, but she sucks in this huge shuddering breath, the way little kids do when they’re trying to be brave and stop crying. "That wasn't the only reason," she says, her voice really small. "I just…I needed to see something and I…" her voice wavers and she stops talking.
Quinn isn't really sure where Rachel is going with this and Rachel has a tendency to ramble and get way off point, so she decides to direct the conversation a little.
"When you say you just needed to see something, are you talking anatomically?
It's actually a legitimate question, even if it comes off a little funny. But it makes Rachel laugh.
"No!" Rachel exclaims.
Quinn feels sort of stupid, but she's glad Rachel laughed, so she has no regrets.
"I know what a penis looks like," Rachel says bluntly. "And if I had curiosities about what they look like, I can always look on the internet."
Rachel's a little loud, and when she says 'penis' there are people who look their way.
Quinn flushes with embarrassment, because it's clear that she's an adult and Rachel's a kid, and she wonders if people think she's some kind of predatory pervert.
"Rachel," Quinn warns gently. "Inside voice okay?"
Rachel blushes. "Okay." She sobers. "I just needed to see for myself…" she hedges.
"What did you need to see?"
Rachel's eyes well up again. "I don't like boys that way," she whispers. "I've known for a long time, but I never really had an opportunity to be around guys my own age t-to ch-check. Then Andy…" she trails off. She sniffles. "And now I know. I knew even after he kissed me, but I-I hoped that if we had sex, maybe…" Rachel looks so sad. "I'm gay," she whispers really quietly.
Quinn feels like an asshole, because Rachel's been in town for about a month, and they've all teased her about boys, just assuming when they all should have known better. Santana's gay, Brittany's bisexual, but she's more specifically Santana-sexual and Quinn herself identifies as bisexual as well. She's generally more sexually attracted to men, but she tends to fall more deeply in love with women. Quinn can't believe they all just assumed Rachel was straight.
"Rachel, it's okay," Quinn says gently.
She's not sure why this is so distressing. Rachel's fathers are gay and her mother is obviously gay-friendly if she was the surrogate for Rachel's fathers. Santana's gay, too, so it’s obvious that there are people in Rachel's family who are accepting.
"It's not," Rachel whispers. "It's absolutely not okay."
"Rachel, it is okay," Quinn assures.
It's taken Quinn a long time to get to this point. She grew up in a religious family and she's still closeted with her father, so she's glad she barely sees him. She likes men and women, but she recalls she got crushes on boys and girls as early as kindergarten. She remembers remarking she'd like to marry her kindergarten teacher, Ms. Baker, who was this pretty 23 year old brunette barely out of college. Her father beat her senseless right at the dinner table and the very next day, she was swapped out to a male kindergarten teacher. She grew up having to pray on her knees for hours and the church she grew up in was pretty intolerant. It was only after her father walked out on the family that Quinn felt like she could breathe in her own house, and her mother was the very last person she told that she liked girls.
It took her a long time, but she's at peace with her sexuality.
"It's not," Rachel whispers. "Not for me. I just…I can't ever seem to be just normal. Even from the very beginning, my very first organ betrays me. I couldn't even do that right, so it necessitated a heart transplant. And then it turns out that I'm this freak and I skip all these grades and everyone my age thinks I'm this weirdo." Rachel's voice breaks. "I don't even have any friends." She sniffles. "And I'm not some weirdo," she says, her voice small and cracking.
"Of course you're not," Quinn says and she is on the verge of tears herself. She doesn't really get it because she's not very emotional, but she's a sympathetic crier when it comes to this girl. And just like she expected, she can’t stand the sight of this girl crying. "You're just extraordinary."
"I just want to be normal," Rachel mumbles. "I just wanted one thing about me to be normal, and I can't even do that. I can't even like boys like a normal girl."
"Rachel, lots of normal girls like girls. Being gay is perfectly normal."
"But it's still different," Rachel points out, her voice shaking. "And it’s just one more way that I'm different, and I don't know why this has to be so hard for me. Why can't I just have this one thing where I'm like most of the world?"
A thought occurs to Quinn when she remembers what Santana told her about why Rachel's spending the summer in Lima
"Is that why you tried to kill yourself?" Quinn asks gently, quietly.
Rachel freezes and her face becomes crimson. She looks humiliated. "Santana told you?" she asks, her voice cracking. She starts to get to her feet like she's going to run away.
Quinn reaches out and puts her hand on Rachel's arm. "It's okay," she whispers. "Just sit down, okay?"
Rachel sniffles but complies. "It's not the only reason," she whispers. "But it's part of it." She swallows hard. "I just thought it would be better that way."
They really needed to get out of here so they can talk in private.
"Hey," Quinn says. "Why don't we go hang out? I'll take the rest of the day off work. We can go talk."
Rachel nods silently.
Quinn knows she needs to get Rachel out of there before they both break down. They leave the cafeteria and Quinn clocks out to take the rest of the day off. She'll miss the money, but not enough to leave Rachel hanging like this. Rachel gets into the car with her and they drive to her house.
They pick up the conversation again once they get to Quinn's room.
"What's going on, Rachel?" Quinn asks softly.
"It doesn't matter. Thank you for listening to me. I--"
"What’s going on, Rachel?" Quinn presses.
"I'm certain you have better things to do than waste your time--"
"What's going on, Rachel?"
Rachel sighs raggedly. "I just didn't want to have one more thing about me be different," Rachel says quietly. "And I…" she swallows visibly. "I met this girl," she admits softly. "She's one of the girls I tutored at the high school. But she's…she's older than me. She's 18 now, and…I unintentionally outted her," Rachel admits with a sigh. "She was out to her family-- they're amazing. But she wasn't out to her friends and one day, we'd been dating for a few months, I just…I wanted to declare my feelings and I'm all about the grand gesture…"
Quinn fights a smile, because yeah, she can totally see that.
"I didn't know she had friends over," Rachel said softly "Because she said she was going to just hang out with her family. So when I went over there with my guitar--" she winces at the memory. "I sang her our song, and her friends were there and they started to make fun of me and then of her and…" she trails off. "It was such a mess."
"Oh, honey," Quinn says softly, because honestly, she can empathize with both sides. Not the bullies who were mean, but with Rachel and that little girlfriend.
"Karen never talked to me after that unless it was to tell me to get sterilized or to just kill myself," Rachel says softly.
"What?!" Quinn asks, outraged. She's done empathizing with that little girlfriend, now she wants to kill her.
"It's okay," Rachel says. "I know why she's doing it."
"Wait, doing it? Like, present tense? Not past tense?"
Rachel bites her lip and reaches into her purse to pull out her cell phone. She fiddles with it and then passes it to Quinn.
Quinn looks at the list of text messages. She can't see the content of all of them, just the list and the first few words of each text messages. Most of the text messages are from phone numbers that Rachel hasn't saved to her contacts. But one set of text messages is from a Karen Fulton. All of them say things like "Freak" and "Whore" and "Kill yourself" and "Get sterilized."
Quinn's eyes tear up at the sight of them and she realizes if those text messages affected her like this, it must have torn Rachel down. She sees that some of the text messages are as recent as this afternoon.
"Honey, this…this isn't right."
"It's okay," Rachel says wearily. "I have it coming."
"No," Quinn says strongly. "No, you don't. No one deserves that. Rachel, what they’re doing is not okay."
"It just got to be too much for me," Rachel said. "And then I got this offer from Cal Tech to go there after I graduate from Temple to enter in their PhD program. It was a full ride and they said I could teach undergrad classes while I attended my grad classes." Rachel sniffled. "And that was just the last straw."
The jump in topics is jarring, but rather than redirecting Rachel, Quinn decides just to go with it.
"Why was that the last straw?"
"It's just not what I want," Rachel says softly. "I don't want to go to Cal Tech. I don't want to work in a lab. I don't want to study Economics either. And even though I like all my English classes better than my Econ or Physics classes, I don't want to do that either. I don't want any of it. But my parents have already put so much into this and I just…I can't disappoint them. I owe them. I was so sick when I was a kid and my parents have already been through so much. Like, my mom-- she wasn't even supposed to be involved in my life. She signed a contract she wouldn't try to contact me until I was 18, but when I got sick, I was two months old, and they all thought I was going to die because I had my first heart attack then."
Quinn can't help it, she starts to cry then, because the thought of this sickly baby growing into this sad teenager is just too much for her. It's not loud or anything, and Rachel is so lost in her own story that she doesn't notice that Quinn's started to cry, which is probably a good thing.
"I was in the hospital a lot then and my dads contacted my mom because they thought if I was going to die anyway, then I should be surrounded by love and support." Rachel wipes at her eyes. "My dads didn't want her around, but they called her because they thought it would be best for me. And my mom didn't have to come back, but she did for me. And through everything, my parents always supported me. Like, you should see the books they've all read over the years raising me-- all these books about raising intellectually gifted kids. They always, always put me first. And all of them keep saying how I'm going to do so much for the world, how they're really proud of me because of it." She sniffles. "But I don't want to do it."
"What do you want to do?" Quinn asks.
"I want to be an actress on Broadway," Rachel says softly.
Normally, that would make Quinn laugh, because like, doesn't everyone say that? But Rachel looks so bleak when she says that, and Quinn can't laugh.
"Isn't your mom an actress on Broadway though?" Quinn asks.
"Yes, but…"Rachel trails off. "I can't be an actress. It would mean all the money and time my parents put in would be wasted. And like, I have a career path that is a certainty right now. How can I trade that in for a profession that's known to be capricious? And I'm realistic that I'mnot attractive enough to win any roles--"
"You're beautiful," Quinn interjects sincerely.
Rachel seems to ignore her. "I've accepted that I can't be what I want, that I have to go into a profession that I don't really want to do, just because I'm good at it. I was okay with that when I thought I'd have someone to share my life with." She swallows. "I was so in love with her," she whispers. "But knowing that I have to have a career I don't want, and have to spend my entire life alone and knowing that I was always going to be different in every area of my life, it was just too much."
"Rachel," Quinn says gently. "I am really familiar with trying to live your life by family expectations and you can't do it. You're 15 years old. You have a lifetime ahead of you."
Rachel sniffled. "That's just it. Even if I die young, like by the time I'm 30, that's 15 years of a life I don't want. I can't live like this anymore."
Quinn swallows hard. "Rachel, I need you to be honest with me," she says lowly. "Are you thinking of killing yourself?"
Rachel looks at her warily. "Whatever I decide is my choice."
Quinn's heart thumps in her chest. She's having a hard time breathing. Jesus Christ, when she agreed to take Santana's little cousin under her wing, this wasn't what she signed up for. She's not equipped for this.
"We're a lot alike, you know," Quinn says. "I'm not a genius and I don't have the amazing voice that you do. Make no mistake, you could make it on Broadway if you wanted. You're beautiful and talented and don't let anyone tell you any differently. But I know what it's like not to want disappoint your family's expectations, and I can tell you that your family would rather be disappointed than you kill yourself because you didn't want to disappoint them."
Quinn barely knows this kid, but it would break her heart if anything ever happened to her.
"I'd rather kill myself than disappoint my family," Rachel says softly. The tears start to fall. "Santana hates me now. She barely even looks at me. I can't disappoint anyone else in my family."
It's just so sad.
"You're 15," Quinn points out. "Your life hasn't even begun yet," she whispers.
Rachel swipes her palms across her eyes. "Maybe if I were the average 15 year old, but--"
"Okay, I can concede you’re way above average," Quinn says with a small smile. "But you're still 15 and nothing can ever convince me that your life has gone so wrong that the only option for you is to kill yourself."
"I just feel out of options," Rachel says hopelessly. "I had this internship with the Coroner's office and it just got me thinking. I didn't want to kill myself at home-- I didn't want my fathers or my mother to find me and if I died in their homes, it would diminish their immediate resale value and I knew my parents would not have lived in the home I died in. I didn't want to do it in my dorm because I was worried the university would, like, penalize my parents somehow for it. So I went to my internship with some Vicodin I bought from this boy in my dorm. I mean, it was the Coroner's office and since I knew I'd end up there anyway, I thought it would be convenient."
Quinn feels sick. The thought Rachel would worry about such trivial things while she was miserable enough to want to die is heart-shattering. "What did you do?"
"I took the Vicodin. I should have used vodka or something, but I didn't. I just used water. And then I laid down on the table where the coroner conducts autopsies."
"Oh, Rachel," Quinn whispers.
"I just thought it would be efficient."
"Oh, Rachel," Quinn repeats softly. "Nothing could be so bad for you to do all that. You-you can’t do that, honey. You have to promise me you won't ever try something like that again. Never."
Rachel looks despondent.
"I'm always going to be different, I'll never be normal and I'll never be able to have a life I really want, because what I want would basically spit in the faces of people who actually do love me. And I don't think I can afford to do that." Rachel starts to cry. "I don't have any options left."
"You aren't out of options-- that much I can promise you," Quinn murmurs. "Come here," she says, softly, spreading her arms out, beckoning Rachel.
Rachel's face trembles as she practically throws herself into Quinn's arms.
Quinn holds Rachel as she sobs.
"Life will get better than this," Quinn promises quietly. "Honest, it does. Please believe me."
Rachel doesn't respond-- she just continues to cry.
Quinn tries to comfort Rachel the best she can, but Rachel basically cries herself to sleep.
--
Rachel wakes up about an hour later, and she looks mortified.
"It's okay," Quinn assures gently.
They meet up with Santana and Brittany for dinner, and when Rachel and Brittany go off to use the bathroom, Quinn punches Santana in the shoulder as hard as she can.
"Ow! Jesus Christ on a cross, what the hell was that for?" Santana demands.
"Stop ignoring her," Quinn warns lowly. "You're being mean and she's 15 years old. She looks up to you and she needs people in her corner. So, stop it."
Santana looks guilty. "Did she say something to you?"
Quinn refuses to break Rachel's confidence. "San," she says. "Why are you so upset with her?"
"She's just a kid," Santana says softly. "I don't want her…having sex."
Quinn snorts. "Santana, you say that if you can't have sex everyday, your digestion will suck."
"I'm an adult. Rachel's 15."
"San," Quinn says. "She really needs people, okay? Just start being nice to her again."
Santana swallows visibly. "I don't even know why I'm so mad," she admits.
"Well, you are an unreasonable asshole," Quinn points out.
Santana smiles wryly. "Thanks, Q."
"Anytime."
Santana sighs. "Okay, Q. You win."
When Rachel and Brittany get back to the table, Santana pulls Rachel into her lap and just hugs her. They don't really say anything, but Rachel's smile becomes huge. They sit like that for a few minutes, cheek-to-cheek, before Santana says "shove off now, kid," and Rachel complies.
--
A couples days later, Rachel comes home from hanging out with Andy a little earlier than anticipated. Santana, Brittany and Quinn are quietly getting drunk in Santana's room while listening to the Drive soundtrack. They don't realize Rachel is home until they hear water running and they all get up to investigate.
Rachel's crying in the en suite bathroom and the look on Santana's face is insane and frightening.
They're waiting for Rachel when she emerges and she immediately runs to Santana and throws her arms around her.
It takes a few minutes for Rachel to calm down enough to say what happened.
"Andy thought it was weird I don't have a Facebook," Rachel says with a sniffle. "So he Googled me and he found some articles Time and Newsweek did on me and he got mad at me and said I lied to him because I told him I was still in high school."
"Honey, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" Brittany asks.
Rachel's lip wobbled. "I just wanted to be normal." She sniffed. "I hate the internet," she declares balefully.
"He's the creeper that Googled you, Rach," Santana says.
"I thought he was my friend," Rachel whispers.
"It won't always be like this, Rachel," Quinn says softly. She feels so helpless.
"It doesn't matter," Rachel says with a teary smile. "I go back to school in a few weeks anyway."
"Come on," Santana says. "We'll go to Fuckerman's and see if we can get you some cute boy to hook up with. Someone your age."
Quinn cringes. That's the last thing Rachel needs. Santana is all over the place with this thing. It's so weird. "San," she intervenes.
"I know I freaked out about you and this Andy kid," Santana tells Rachel. "But the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."
Rachel looks so depressed. "It's okay, San. I'm okay, really. I just want to stay in and watch Funny Girl."
"We'll hang with you."
"I just really want to be alone right now."
"But--"
"Please?"
"Okay," Santana sighs.
When Quinn goes home that night, she passes Rachel's room. It's dark, but Quinn can hear Rachel crying.
Quinn sighs and quietly knocks. She waits for a moment, but when she gets no response, she enters anyway. Rachel keeps crying and Quinn slowly makes her way to the bed and gets in beside Rachel. She puts her arms around Rachel and pulls her close.
Rachel's sobs grow louder as she cuddles into Quinn, burying her face into Quinn's neck.
Quinn strokes Rachel's hair. "Honey, it's not always going to be like this."
"Yes, it will," Rachel sobs.
Quinn has to roll her eyes. This was the thing about 15 year olds, even the ones with genius IQs-- they have no perspective. She laughs gently, because yeah, she can totally remember being 15 and feeling just like this, so she can't blame Rachel at all. "No, it won't," Quinn murmurs.
"I can't even go a summer without being found out as a freak," Rachel whisper-cries.
"You aren't a freak," Quinn soothes. "God, I don't even know what you're crying about, really, sweetheart. You're beautiful. You're a literal genius. You're crazy talented. That's like, this trifecta for success."
Rachel laughs sardonically. "I'd give it all up if I knew someone would love me." She pauses. "Romantically. Not like how my parents love me." Rachel wavers. "It doesn't even have to be another girl," she says softly. "I'll be straight if I have to. I had sex with Andy and it was okay. I…I can do it if I have to. But no one is ever going to love me, so it's a non-issue."
Quinn sighs quietly. "Rachel, sweetheart. It feels that way now, but…"
"Karen told everyone about m-my scar and now they all call me Zipper." Rachel's voice shakes. "I think that'll be the story of my life," she sighs. "I've never been in school with anyone my own age and the one time I do meet someone, I end up ruining it."
Quinn's body practically vibrates with rage. Her jaw clenches so hard, she gets a headache. It's hypocritical to judge this Karen girl so harshly because back in the day, she was pretty cruel, too. But the cruelty of calling a girl who has a scar from a heart transplant "Zipper," just seems unspeakably and breathtakingly cruel.
"Rachel, any girl worth loving won't care about that," Quinn whispers. Quinn is very careful to use a gender-specific word. "Any girl worth loving would know she's lucky that you would even give her the time of day."
"You don't have to be quite so hyperbolic," Rachel sniffs.
Quinn laughs gently. "I'm not being hyperbolic. Rachel, sweetheart. One day, you're going to realize that I'm right."
She's had to reassure Rachel of this so many times, Quinn realizes that even if Rachel is her intellectual superior and is advanced cognitively, when it comes to emotions, she's very much 15. And it is in this arena that Quinn knows she's smarter than Rachel. She really wants Rachel to take her word for it, but she also gets how hard it must be.
It's quiet between them for a long moment and then Rachel rubs her nose on Quinn's collarbone.
"Quinn?" Rachel says quietly. "You…you're really beautiful."
Quinn freezes, because shit. Rachel is stunning, really. And Quinn can't deny there have been moments when the sight of Rachel has stirred up something carnal deep inside her. But Rachel is 15 years old and it's illegal. And every time she's felt longing for that girl, Quinn has felt an immediate sense of guilt.
"Honey," Quinn says softly. She cups Rachel's face in her hands. "You're 15, and I'm 20. It's wrong. Whatever you're thinking…"
"I won't tell anyone," Rachel says softly as she clings to Quinn. "It's not wrong. You're so beautiful and…I promise, if you let me...I-I can make you feel really good. Even Karen conceded to that. And it's dark," she whispers. "You won't even have to look at my body, you can just lay there and close your eyes and--"
Quinn's wet and tempted. She desperately wants to give into temptation. She would love nothing more than those fingers between her legs or that mouth licking the inside of her thighs. There would be no lights turned off-- she longed to see every inch of that body. But she can't.
Quinn can't help but let out a little moan at the mere thought of it. But she gets a hold of herself.
"I can't," Quinn whispers. "It is wrong. There's a huge difference between 15 and 20."
Quinn feels Rachel slump against her.
"Okay," Rachel says with a sniffle. "I-I get it. I'm sure you…you could have your pick of anyone and there's no reason you need to settle for me."
"No," Quinn says strongly. "It's not like that at all. You have no idea how much I want to give in. But it can't happen right now."
"Why?" Rachel pleads. "This summer has been amazing because of you. And I-I'm not a virgin or anything. I-I think I'm in love with you and--"
"Honey," Quinn interrupts gently. "Nothing will ever happen between you and me as long as you're 15. If you were 18, there would be no question in my mind. But until you're legal, nothing will ever happen."
Rachel deflates even more. "I'm basically an adult. I live on my own--well, in the dorms. I'm even going to graduate from college before you."
Quinn hugs her. "Look me up when you're 18, honey."
"You're probably going to be with someone," Rachel says softly. "I won't disturb that."
"You might be with someone, too."
Rachel laughs self-deprecatingly. "I'll definitely be single."
Quinn holds Rachel as they talk softly until Rachel drifts off. Quinn kisses Rachel's forehead and disentangles herself gently before she climbs out of the bed. She exits the room quietly and shuts the door gently.
She only takes a step before she sees Santana climbing up the stairs holding a glass of water.
Oh no.
The look of rage on Santana's face is frightening.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Santana growls.
"San…"
"What the fuck are you doing?" Santana repeats.
"San--"
"What the fuck did you do?!" Santana shouts. She throws the glass of water aside and rushes Quinn, shoving her so that her back slamsagainst the door of Rachel's bedroom. "You bitch! I trusted you! You fucking bitch! She's 15 years old! I trusted you!" Santana shakes Quinn like a rag doll.
"I didn't do anything!" Quinn defends.
She can't believe this. She can't believe she's getting attacked when she didn't do anything, when she tried to be good.
"She's just a kid!" Santana screams. Santana pulls her hand back and slaps Quinn, hard, in the face.
Quinn immediately clutches her hand to her cheek.
The doors to the occupied bedrooms in the house open, and Quinn is mortified that Dr. and Mrs. Lopez step out of the master bedroom, looking worried and bewildered.
Rachel opens the door and steps out.
"San?"
Santana looks at Rachel. "Are you okay, Rachel?" She peers closely at Rachel's tear-stained face and misinterprets everything. The look she gives Quinn is murderous. "I'm going to kill you, Fabray!"
"We didn't do anything!" Rachel exclaims, insinuating herself between Quinn and Santana. "She just comforted me. I was upset and she just hugged me. That's it! Nothing happened! She even made it very clear that nothing would ever happen between us. Nothing happened, San!"
Quinn wants to cry because she can't believe Santana would jump to conclusions like that.
Santana still looks suspicious. "Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
Santana can't meet Quinn's eyes. "Q," she whispers. "Q, I-I'm sorry," she says, her voice cracking.
"Whatever," Quinn says, her vision is blurry with tears. "I should get home."
"Wait, Quinn! Stay the night!" Brittany pleads.
"Quinn," Maribel entreats. "Please, stay in Michael's old room."
"Thank you, Mrs. Lopez, but I should get going."
Quinn is humiliated as she walks down the stairs. She barely hears Rachel yelling at Santana as she walks away, she's so fixated on just going home. She's outside walking to her car when she hears someone shouting her name, but she doesn't turn around. She hears bare feet slapping against pavement.
Santana slams into her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she cries, throwing her arms around Quinn and hugging her from behind.
"Forget it," Quinn says flatly.
"It's just you were coming out of her bedroom and I thought you left hours ago--"
"Forget it," Quinn repeats, keeping her voice steady even though she is ready to burst into tears. She knows how bad that must have looked, but God, where's the trust?
"Q, please--"
"Let me go, San."
She feels Santana tremble before she pulls away.
Quinn doesn't look back before she gets into her car and drives away.
--
She has to go to work the next day, and it's a miserable experience for her. She takes her lunch break crying in one of the bathrooms and when she gets back, she sees a bouquet of gardenias.
"They're for you," May, her coworker, tells her.
There's a note attached reading
I'm sorry. It was all my fault. Please call her.
-R
Honestly, the person with the least amount of blame in all this is Rachel. She wants to text Rachel to tell her it wasn't her fault, but she realizes she doesn't actually have Rachel's phone number, which only heightens the absurdity of the night before.
She knows she's had some impure thoughts about Rachel, but God, who wouldn't? But Quinn has never once lost sight of the fact that Rachel is a kid, even when she was tempted to do so. Yeah, she had some impure thoughts, but her intentions were always pure. She would never take advantage of a kid like that, not even a gorgeous, wiser-than-her-years kid who is warm and willing. She's depressed about the whole thing, because at least if she actually slept with Rachel, it might make getting slapped by Santana worth it. But Quinn would never have forgiven herself if she had-- there's a line drawn in the sand over those kinds of things and Quinn refuses to overstep. She will steal liquor from her mother, go into work late with impunity and steal pens from restaurants if the ink appeals to her. But she has enough integrity to refrain from seducing the 15 year old cousin of one of her best friends. She's hurt the said best friend doesn't realize that.
When she gets off work that night, she walks to the parking lot and sees Santana leaning against her car.
"I hate it when you do that. I don't want you scratching the paint."
"I'm sorry, Q," Santana says softly.
"Okay."
"Look, I know I was a total cunt. I just jumped to conclusions and blew up at you just like that useless tit of an ex-boyfriend of yours. But I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for hitting you."
"Okay."
"You can totally take a swing at me."
"Forget it."
"Q, just hit me. We'll both feel better."
"I said forget it, Santana."
Santana swallows hard and hesitantly reaches for Quinn, taking her by the arm. "Please accept my apology, Q."
"Apology accepted, S," Quinn says. "But I'm just going to go home. I need some time away from you to cool off. But we're fine."
Quinn gets into her car and drives away before Santana can respond.
--
By the next day, things go back to normal. It's unceremonious, just the way Quinn likes it. Besides, Rachel has to go back to school in a week and Santana and Brittany have to go back in two, so time is precious and running out.
They don't talk about it and it never comes up again.
--
The rest of Rachel's time in Lima is spent exactly the way they've been spending it.
When Quinn reflects on it, it must have been a pretty good summer from a teenager's standpoint. Quinn's really glad they were able to give Rachel that.
Quinn and Rachel share a tight hug on Rachel's last day in Lima. They exchange phone numbers and Quinn swears to visit Rachel in Philly and Rachel swears she'll call Quinn if she ever needs to talk. Quinn thinks it's a perfectly fair trade.
--
Over the next few months, Quinn keeps in contact with Rachel regularly. They text a few times a week and email every couple of weeks. Rachel gets a Facebook, and it's kind of piddly because her only friends are her parents, Dr. and Mrs. Lopez, Santana, Brittany and Quinn. Then one day, when Quinn is checking out Rachel's Facebook page, she sees Rachel and that Andy kid are now friends.
She follows their friendship timeline just to make sure his intentions are pure because the memory of Rachel crying over him is still fresh in her mind. He seems really nice and sweet, so it makes Quinn smile that Andy and Rachel are friends again.
Soon after, a boy named Mike Chang appears as a friend on Rachel's timeline.
She hears from Rachel that she met Mike at a dance class she was taking off-campus.
"He moves like water," Rachel once told her, her voice awed. If it weren't for the fact that Quinn knows better, she would think that Rachel has a crush.
Mike is 18 and he seems like a really nice guy. Since Quinn lives closer to Rachel than Santana and Brittany do, Santana makes Quinn swear to check Mike out when she visits Rachel.
Rachel takes voice and dance lessons under private instruction, and she genuinely seems much happier because of it. It cuts into her school work, but Rachel really doesn't need to expend much energy into her school work anyway, so whatever.
Rachel turns 16 and Quinn visits her at school to celebrate. She meets Rachel's fathers and mother, who all clearly adore Rachel. Rachel is totally the apple of their eyes, and meeting them, Quinn is 1000% certain they would support anything Rachel wanted. There is no way Rachel could disappoint them, and frankly, Quinn doesn't think Rachel could disappoint anyone.
She meets Mike, too, and the guy is just really nice. He's decent and Quinn is so, so glad Rachel has him because he just really seems to like Rachel a lot in a way that's completely platonic. He seems unfazed that Rachel is a genius and it's so obvious how happy that makes Rachel.
--
Rachel graduates that June with all kinds of awards and accolades. She ends up moving to Boston to attend grad school at BU and starts working in a lab and teaching classes.
Rachel hates her studies and the work, but she keeps taking dance and singing lessons which makes her feel better.
Quinn is a little disappointed and a lot worried, because Rachel seems to think that she's going to keep that up until she dies or something and that's totally unreasonable. Rachel tells her not to worry because she likes school and work "well enough" but Quinn can't help be concerned. She keeps encouraging Rachel to just follow her passions and do what she loves, but Rachel just laughs and says "there's just no way."
Sometimes, though she cries.
Rachel is just shy of 18 when she shocks everyone by announcing that she's quitting grad school and her jobs to move back to New York to enroll in the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts to study musical theatre.
Quinn's never been more proud.
Everyone thinks Rachel's gone crazy and is going through some teenage-life crisis, but everyone who really knows her can concede that they've never seen her happier. She makes friends her own age for the first time in a very long time and it's clear this is the best thing for her. The admissions board at NYADA is a little confused since they assumed Rachel wanted to enter their grad program, but she's very clear she wants to learn all that she can from them, and to do that, she needs to enter into their undergrad program.
--
When Quinn graduates from OSU, she moves onto an MFA program at Columbia. She moves apartments three times and Rachel helps her each time.
The third move happens just after Rachel's 18th birthday. It's December and the city is decorated for Christmas. Quinn turns on the heat in the apartment to make it more comfortable, and when she turns around, Rachel has slunk up to her.
She's holding up a sprig of mistletoe.
"I'm going to assume you are familiar with the traditions surrounding mistletoe," Rachel says very gravely.
Quinn smiles. "I am."
Rachel tilts her head. "May I?"
She's smiling so prettily.
"You may," Quinn grins.
Rachel takes another step forward, her eyes gazing into Quinn's.
Quinn's breath hitches and she licks her lips with two and half years of anticipation. Sometimes, she can't believe she had the fortitude, because God, when she looks at that face, she just wants to get down on her knees and howl at her beauty like a dog in heat. She turns into a dirty old man on a Leonard Cohen-level around Rachel. She has no idea how she managed to stay chaste with Rachel all this time without the aid of a chastity belt for one or both of them-- they've never even kissed. Yes, there've been small flirtations and micro-relationships for both of them with other people, but they’ve really just waited for one another.
It was helpless love for Rachel.
For Quinn, it was an attraction that slowly built to love because, just as she expected and suspected, Rachel is irresistibly loveable.
Their faces are so close now.
Rachel tilts her head up and Quinn bends her head down. Their noses brush against each other and they both exhale softly before their lips finally meet. They each moan into the kiss and when Rachel's tongue brushes along Quinn's lower lip, Quinn's last coherent thought is that this was worth the wait.
--
The first time they have sex, it's a few weeks after that and Rachel wants to do it with the lights off.
Quinn thinks it's a shame to waste a body like that on sex-in-the-dark, so she gently negotiates with Rachel into taking her clothes off while Quinn uses the dimmer switch on the floor lamp in her bedroom.
Rachel crosses her hands over her chest, and looks up at Quinn with wide, frightened eyes. She looks a little weepy.
Quinn pulls Rachel's hands away from her chest and gazes down at the scar that symbolizes the day Rachel got a new chance at life. Quinn would never look away. If anything, she would celebrate it.
"You are so beautiful," Quinn whispers, gently kissing down the length of that scar.
"It's so ugly," Rachel whispers. "You don't have to--I mean…"
"It's beautiful," Quinn assures. "You're alive because of it."
She's done her research on Anomalous Left Coronary Artery from the Pulmonary Artery and she knows that if it weren't for that scar, it's highly likely Rachel would have died before she was three years old. The thought of that is just too tragic and Quinn is thankful, so thankful for that scar because it is a reminder that Rachel is alive, Rachel is here.
For anyone who loves her, that scar is a reminder that Rachel slow danced with Death and kicked his ass to the curb. One day, Quinn hopes she can make Rachel look at it the same way. Rachel is young-- only 18, and Quinn thinks to herself she has a very long time to work on it.
"I thank God on my knees for this scar," Quinn whispers before she kisses it again.
--
When Rachel is twenty-five, she's nominated for her first Tony award. Quinn decides it's the perfect time to propose because even though Rachel's revised her life plans to accommodate her change in career, Rachel still has very high expectations of herself in terms of career accomplishment before she'd even consider marriage. Rachel no longer wants a Nobel Prize or a Pulitzer, she wants the EGOT. But truth be told, Rachel's always wanted the EGOT, it's just now she's brave enough to go after it.
Quinn gets on one knee and barely has "will you ma--" out before Rachel shrieks and screams "yes!"
Quinn kisses her with a laugh and slips the ring on her finger.
--
A year later when they share their first dance as a married couple, Quinn brushes her lips against Rachel's ear.
"See? Didn't I tell you that one day, you would find a girl who loves you?"
Rachel laughs. "You did."
Quinn nuzzles Rachel's cheek. "You were so dramatic."
"I was 15," Rachel points out.
"I know," Quinn murmurs fondly. "You were worth the wait."
The End