1/25/2016 FIC: Absolution [1a/3] - sulkygeek fan fic journal: crappy fanfic.

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FIC: Absolution [1a/3] quinn/rachel quinntana rachel
Title: Absolution rachel/santana santana santana/quinn shelby
sulkygeekff
Author: Sulkygeek
April 26th, 2012
Rating: R
Length: approximately 19,000 words
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Spoilers: Let’s say Saturday Night Glee-ver
Summary: This is Glee meets that episode of the Buffy musical meets the movie Frequency. Rachel
and Quinn are in a relationship, but then Rachel dies. A freak Northern Lights activity brings them back
together but NOT in a zombie sort of way. But this does not end happily.

Author’s Note: Please let me make this clear. This is NOT a happy ending. No, no one is raped,
sexually abused, physically abused or sold into sexual servitude in this (I KNOW some of you have
probably turned that into a drinking game and to you people…I hope your alcohol overdoses did not
kill you/will not kill you), but it’s still not happy.

Also, this is stream-of-consciousness and has NOT been proofread. And it never will, so sorry, to
those of you who are persnickety about that sort of thing.

Part 1

Quinn regained consciousness, gasping, with blood trickling into her eyes. She realized she was
hanging upside down in the car and she immediately began to hyperventilate. She was on the verge of
screaming as she thought to herself ‘not again, please not again.’ She wanted to cry as she
remembered the accident senior year-- things became muddled, and she thought she was the
bridesmaid late for the wedding for a brief moment before she realized Rachel was never going to be
Finn Hudson's bride, but Rachel would one day be hers. Quinn had the ring in her purse-- which was
now likely somewhere in the backseat of the car, not at Rachel's feet anymore.

Her hands reached, blindly, toward Rachel. “Baby,” she managed to croak out. “Baby,” she repeated
urgently when she got no response. “Baby.”

She couldn’t seem to say anything else—all she could think was 'not again.'

And of Rachel, of course.

What was it about her life that any time things were good in her life, something came along to destroy
it?

Rachel didn’t respond.

Rachel’s lack of response triggered Quinn to scream.

Rachel, who always responded with a chirpy laugh, a big smile, and an affectionate “what on earth do
you want now?” Rachel, who was incapable of the silent treatment, did not respond no matter how
desperate Quinn became.

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Even as Quinn screamed and screamed until her throat felt as raw and bloody as the wound on her
forehead that was causing blood to gush down her face, Rachel stayed silent.
--

They used to joke that Rachel was a terrible driver—and she kind of was.

Still, Rachel drove most of the time if they could help it, because even years after the accident senior
year, Quinn tried to avoid driving if possible. She knew how to drive, of course, and she would deny
being afraid of driving, but she had to admit (only to herself and later to Rachel) that there was
something about that particular endeavor that continued to frighten her long after she was healed
enough to get out of that awful wheelchair. She could do it if she absolutely had to, but the once banal
activity intimidated her.

It was why she planned never to move to LA, no matter how great the career opportunities.

“Maybe we’ll just hire a driver,” Rachel used to joke. “Because I don’t think either of us can truly
escape LA.”

“Maybe,” Quinn used to reply wryly. “I mean, I can’t keep putting my life in your hands. You’re a terrible
driver.”

Quinn was only half-kidding. Rachel always paid strict attention to the road if she drove with
passengers, but when she drove by herself, she just became distracted easily. Quinn once witnessed
Rachel nearly sideswipe a parked car because she happened to see a particularly cute dog on the
other side of the street and rubbernecked to catch a glimpse. Quinn had been waiting in front of her
apartment for Rachel to pick her up and was horrified at the sight.

She lectured Rachel all the time about defensive driving, to the point Rachel became defensive. But
she generally took everything in stride as long as she thought there was no true malice. She huffed
and puffed like she was mad, but she could never pretend to be mad unless she was performing.
When she was alone with Quinn and tried to pretend to be angry, she always ended up cracking a
smile that she tried to cover up by slamming her hand over her mouth. She always looked about eight
years old when she did that, and it did not convey anger or annoyance.

Still, Quinn had to count herself lucky that Rachel never minded being the chauffer. Quinn knew it was
kind of stupid, but she always felt really loved that Rachel would cart her around so amiably. Quinn
could remember her own father seeming resentful when he had to drive her around before she was old
enough to get a license. The day she turned 15, her father had her in driver's ed, and the very first
thing her father did on her 16th birthday was to take her to the DMV.

Despite the fact that Rachel lived in New York immediately after graduating from McKinley, and thus
either took public transportation or walked everywhere for herself, every time she made the trek to
New Haven to visit Quinn, she always managed to borrow a car so she could chauffer Quinn around to
run basic errands like grocery shopping and dry cleaning. Quinn didn't mind taking public
transportation to accomplish these tasks, but she could not deny that it made her life easier when
Rachel schlepped her around. She was really grateful that Rachel tended to come into New Haven
essentially to run errand all weekend.

Rachel never complained and even though she had to pass on her NYADA admission because she
was offered a part on Broadway straight out of high school, and subsequently parlayed that to further
success, Rachel was always sensitive to Quinn’s needs when accepting parts. Sometimes in a way
that seemed contrary to the ongoing well-being of her burgeoning career.

“It’s crazy,” Quinn would often protest during those early years, her voice rising with passion. “You
can’t pass up a part just because it films in LA.”

“It’s not that it films in LA,” Rachel would respond, overly reasonably. Frequently she would be
inspecting her nails, clucking her tongue at her ruined manicure which would serve to irritate Quinn
even further, because Jesus, Quinn was practically eating her own liver out of worry and Rachel was
so blasé about her own goddamn career. “It’s that I would be gone for two months.”

“So?”

Quinn never felt as casual as she sounded. She didn’t want Rachel to go away, even for a short period
of time. Every time Rachel went away after a visit, it would leave a physical ache that could not be
filled until the next time Rachel visited, always hurling herself into Quinn’s arms with a deliriously
happy shriek, smothering Quinn’s face with kisses. Quinn liked to pretend like she was annoyed—she
had a façade she needed to keep up, so she always reacted like a grump. But both she and Rachel

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knew better. Rachel let her have the façade because she always ran her thumb across Quinn’s left
eyebrow when she left because she knew Quinn found that comforting.

“So? So? Quinn, that’s too long to be separated from you! What's going to happen if you need to run
out to get milk?” She paused. "Or bacon? Bacon is much more likely than milk to be on your purchase
list, as you appear to becoming increasingly more lactose intolerant."

“Rachel, I’m not some elderly shut-in and I'm not lactose intolerant.”

“Well, you’re a fairly good approximation of both, baby.”

The truth was, Rachel had a point. Both about the lactose intolerance and the appearance of
agoraphobia. Quinn liked to pretend she had a breezy attitude about that accident on the day of
Rachel’s teenage almost-wedding, especially because she bore very few physical reminders of that
day. But something twisted inside of her and never quite unraveled.

She just wanted to be alone, except for Rachel, and she really didn’t see anything so wrong with that.
She went to classes and auditions, she bantered wittily with classmates and engaged in the typical
bemoaning of collegiate-level problems with her peers. She made polite conversation with strangers
who engaged her even though she would have preferred they not speak to her in the first place. She
participated in the world, and she was tired of people saying she should participate more as though
going out to parties, bars and clubs were the barometer of social health.

She wasn’t the Unabomber, she was Greta Garbo—she wanted to be left alone. What was so wrong
with that?

“It’s just, I don’t want you to give up anything important or sacrifice your dreams for me. I’m not Finn
Hudson. I want you to have everything. I don’t want to hold you back from anything. And though I know
you are the next Barbra Streisand, maybe even more talented than she, and please spare me the
blasphemy lecture, because that’s not true blasphemy, the truth is, baby, you aren’t Barbra yet, so
maybe you shouldn’t pass up anything.”

Rachel gave Quinn a grin that made Quinn’s heart feel as vast as the ocean—her heart always
seemed to expand where Rachel was concerned and her capacity for love grew with it.

“I have everything I want, and I am fully aware that you aren’t Finn Hudson. I’m different now than I
was with him—I still believe that home is a person, not a place. But you know who you are and what
you want, and I’d be willing to sacrifice anything for you because of that. Finn didn’t know what he
wanted and he barely knew who he was and I realize now that trying to give up what I wanted for
someone who didn’t actually have a dream was foolish. But being in a relationship requires
compromise and if that means sacrificing a little for you, that’s really okay. There’s a difference
between compromising for someone who knows what they want in life and sacrificing for someone
who doesn’t. The former is compromise, the latter is just foolishness and you were the one who taught
me that. You were the one who told me if I stayed in Lima, I would be accepting less than the best for
myself. ”

Quinn swallowed hard. “I just don’t want you to resent me,” she admitted quietly. “I know I’m not
exactly who you thought you’d end up with. I don’t want to give you any reason to wake up one
morning and realize you hate me.”

Rachel’s features softened and she looked just seconds away from crying. “Maybe you aren’t who I
thought you’d end up with,” she said quietly, reaching out with one hand to tuck her hand under
Quinn’s chin so they could resume eye contact when Quinn could not help but look away. Rachel
smiled and Quinn had to smile back “But I promise I won’t ever give up something I really want,” she
murmured. “Not for you, not for anyone. I’m not looking to be a martyr, I’m just trying to be a grownup
in my first real adult relationship.”

Quinn could not fight her smile at the word usage. “A grownup, huh?” she echoed teasingly.

Rachel’s eyes were wide and bright as she nodded earnestly. She was always so sincere. For as long
as Quinn could remember, Rachel always had a way of seeming forty years old sometimes and four at
others. “A grownup!” she repeated in a chirp.

Quinn laughed quietly and held out her pinkie. “Do you swear you won't ever give up anything you
really want for me?” she asked softly.

Rachel hooked her pinkie to Quinn’s and touched their thumbs together to seal the promise. “Swear.”
She smiled and rubbed her nose against Quinn’s. “Will you promise the same for me?”

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Quinn swallowed hard, because the truth of the matter was, she would give up anything in the world if
it meant she could keep Rachel, even the things she had her heart set on. But she forced herself to
smile. “I promise.”

Rachel smiled ruefully and stuck her hand out to tweak Quinn’s nipple. “You big liar.”

Quinn winced and rubbed her nipple. She looked at Rachel resentfully. “I hate you, stupid.”

Rachel smiled beatifically. “You’re stupid.” She kissed Quinn on the nose. “You don’t have to promise
me now,” she said with a smug grin. “I’ll make sure you’ll be able to though. Mark my words.”

Quinn suppressed the desire to roll her eyes, because she knew that in this arena, she and Rachel
were fundamentally different. Rachel’s first love was performance, and Quinn was okay with being
second best to that. Quinn’s first love was Rachel

"Hey," Rachel said softly. "In this equation, I think we can both agree that I'm Prince Charming--"

Rachel was cut off by Quinn snorting indelicately. Rachel gave the blonde a glare, but continued.

"I'm Prince Charming, and you're the Princess, so it's my duty to make sure all your dreams come true
and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Quinn swallowed the lump in her throat and willed the tears that welled up in her eyes to go away. She
was always such a sap for this girl. "You're not charming," she said hoarsely, trying to mask how
emotional she was becoming. "You're a dork."

Rachel smiled understandingly and pecked Quinn's lips. "I'm a dork who conned you into loving me,"
she said softly.

Quinn laughed. "That's because I'm just so stupid."

Rachel grinned impishly. "Agreed."

--

Overall, Quinn thought that she and Rachel had it pretty good with one another. They were different,
but not so different as to be wholly incompatible. Back in high school, Quinn was at the top of the
social ladder, but she’d never been particularly sociable. Rachel was at the bottom of the social ladder,
but was always a social butterfly. After the accident, Quinn felt even less inclined to be around people,
so Rachel did it for her.

Rachel was the one who made friends at Yale for Quinn, particularly in the Drama Department since
Quinn’s classmates envied and respected Rachel’s success. Rachel said she made friends with
Quinn's classmates because she was networking, since the acting community on both coasts was so
small. But Quinn could tell Rachel was secretly worried that she would be lonely without her because it
was always Rachel who pushed Quinn to go out and meet people. Quinn just preferred staying home
and watching terrible TV in frequently unforgiving high definition whilst lounging in her underwear and
calling for take-out. She read books, passed the time on the internet, listened to music and later
developed a pretentious affinity for vinyl, one that Rachel gently mocked her for, though Rachel herself
also had a decent vinyl collection inherited from her fathers.

“You’re a hipster,” Rachel often teased when she came upon Quinn listening to some re-mastered
vinyl record.”A dirty hipster. When will you convert to veganism to be more aligned with others of your
ilk?”

She teased to mask the fact that she worried, but she did, in fact, worry. And she worried a lot if the
daily affirmations sent over texts to go out and do one thing every day that scared her or to ‘carpe
diem’ were any indicator.

“I will never give up bacon, and you listen to vinyl, too, hipster,” Quinn shot back.

She didn’t want to face up to the fact that Rachel was worried.

“Mine are originals. I’m a timeless classic.”

This was Rachel giving up the conversation, at least for the moment.

“You’re unique, to put it politely,” Quinn always commented wryly.

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This was Quinn asking Rachel not to give up on her, to let Rachel know that they could always revisit
the conversation a little later/

And always, Rachel would respond with that smile that made Quinn’s heart expand. It made her toes
curl up. It never failed to elicit a grin from Quinn. With Rachel Berry, Quinn’s life always felt like the last
scene in Sixteen Candles complete with the Thompson Twins soundtrack, though Quinn secretly
though Spandau Ballet was more appropriate for Rachel.

--

To the outside world, hers seemed a lonely life, but it was not lonely—she had Rachel to offset any of
that.

“You,” Rachel declared to her once, “are my grumpy old man girlfriend.”

That seemed more or less apt.

Quinn chuckled. “Are we going to play Bad Daddy again?”

Rachel blushed and leered at the same time, a combination Quinn found simultaneously endearing
and erotic.”Is this where I say that I’ve been so bad and I am due, so very overdue for a punishment?”

Quinn laughed softly and gently pinched Rachel’s butt, eliciting a small squeak that was very pleasing
indeed.

“I’m sorry I’m such a grumpy old man,” Quinn apologized sincerely.

Sometimes, she missed the way she was before when she could put on the show without feeling so
exhausted by it. But only sometimes. When she left high school, she swore to herself she wouldn’t
force herself to behave as expected, but only as she wanted—provided it would not hurt anyone else.

Her mother thought she was depressed. Her sister thought she had PTSD. Even her father
sporadically expressed concern about her "new personality." Santana thought she lost her mind and
Brittany thought she’d been abducted and was currently living on a different planet. Frequently, Quinn
obliged her by making homemade postcards with an astronomy theme and sending them to her pretty
blond friend. This usually made Santana call her, outraged, but really, it was something private
between Quinn and Brittany and they both enjoyed it.

Rachel was the only person in her life who accepted her as she was. Everyone called Rachel an
enabler, but Quinn thought of her as her saving grace. And anyway, she really hadn't changed much
after the accident, she was just more willing to be herself. She'd always been the sort of person who
preferred a night at home reading to a night out partying. Even in high school, she always had a book
with her because most people bored her.

“I wouldn’t change anything about you,” Rachel said, smiling sweetly. “I have all the perks of having a
grumpy old man boyfriend such as the endearingly cantankerous agoraphobia, but none of the
downsides like a temperamental penis that diminishes my self-esteem if it were not to work properly.”

“Rachel!” Quinn sputtered, laughing hard, genuinely scandalized. She was the prude in the
relationship and she was genuinely embarrassed when Rachel spoke like that—which was fairly
frequent. Rachel was always innocently blunt in a way that ended up embarrassing. But she would not
have changed Rachel for anything.

Quinn still covered her mouth when she laughed—years of her mother’s teachings on propriety and
etiquette were deeply ingrained in her, even though Rachel always said “I love the way you look when
you laugh, please don’t cover it up.” Quinn always did her best to please Rachel and even though she
still covered her mouth when she laughed, she was remembering now to pull her hand away.

Rachel smiled innocently. “You don’t possess that particular anatomy,” she murmured, pulling Quinn's
hand away from her mouth and kissing her lips. Her hand cupped Quinn between her legs, making the
blonde gasp. "You look so pretty when you laugh, Quinn," Rachel murmured, peering into Quinn's
eyes for a long moment before she began rubbing her hand on Quinn’s inner thigh. She got down on
her knees, head disappearing under Quinn’s skirt. “This is never temperamental,” she murmured as
she yanked down Quinn’s underwear and her moth began to kiss between Quinn’s thighs.

Quinn shut her eyes when she felt Rachel’s tongue lap between her legs. “God,” Quinn breathed in a
harsh gasp. Her hands clenched into Rachel's hair. "Don't stop." She loved the feeling of that soft
tongue between her thighs and she began to squirm in anticipation at the mere thought of Rachel's
tongue slipping inside her.

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Rachel pulled her head away, though her head was still under Quinn’s skirt. "I wasn't planning to,
Quinn, that would be so impolite."

Quinn covered her mouth with her palm and laughed into it. She was so amused that she wasn't even
irritated that Rachel's mouth was no longer between her legs. She genuinely felt only Rachel Berry
could get away with saying a thing like that before eating her out with gusto. Besides, it's not like she
had any room to complain-- Rachel ate her out like her life depended on it.

Quinn found that a perk, not a necessity, but she was very glad that she had a girlfriend who was
much less inhibited than she when it came to sex.

Rachel continued to tease her with her mouth-- her tongue gently licked, nipped and nibbled. Rachel
kissed her clit and Quinn released a shuddering moan as she thought about what Rachel's perfect
mouth must look like at that moment. Rachel continued to tease her until Quinn couldn't take it
anymore and began pushing at the back of Rachel's head. Rachel's tongue slipped deeply inside her
and swirled around until Quinn felt herself get so close. She tried to contain her keening, begging
wails, but she could not. Rachel chuckled quietly and began to suck on Quinn's clit.

Quinn felt herself become unglued. She always thought it was a cliché that somehow who didn't have
sex enough was uptight, but she'd come to realize that the cliché was true. It was only after sex with
Rachel, when she let go of her need to always be in control, to always control the way she was viewed
and perceived by other people, that she stopped being so uptight. It seemed so contradictory, but once
she just let go of her inhibitions and allowed herself to look completely goofy in front of Rachel while
Rachel made her come, she stopped caring so much about how she might look.

--

Rachel was a little sex fiend, not that Quinn minded.

The thought that Rachel was like this with Finn was more than a little alarming and Quinn thought
about ways she could broach the topic with her girlfriend before she finally just asked one day, very
early on in their relationship. Though in retrospect, it wasn’t at the most advisable time. Even so,
Rachel did not raise a fuss about it. She didn’t even seem to mind.

“How often did you have sex with Finn? As much as we do?”

Rachel smiled impishly. “Rabbits don’t have sex as much as we do.”

Quinn ducked her head and hid her smile, since she instinctively felt it was bad form to take pride in
how frequently she had sex. But then she thought of the topic at hand and her smile faded. She
realized in the back of her mind she could have picked a better time to have this conversation and she
realized how terrible she was at pillow talk.

“Did you have sex with Finn as much as we do?” she asked quietly.

“No, of course not,” Rachel said as if were the obvious thing in the world. She smiled sincerely and
rubbed her hand on Quinn’s bare ass.

“But?” Quinn pressed, because she could sense a ‘but’ a mile away.

“I was attracted to him,” Rachel said honestly. “I think we can both agree he is a good looking man.”

“Whatever,” Quinn huffed. She and Finn competed for the same girl, and though she won, Quinn
thought she was entitled not to like the guy. She didn't hate him, and she would be perfectly willing to
be nice to him if he weren't such a dick to her. He'd carried a grudge against her ever since Rachel
chose her over him, and though she didn't blame him, she thought he should be realistic and realize
he lost Rachel because he wasn't right for her, didn't believe in her and didn't support her the way
Rachel deserved. It had nothing to do with Quinn declaring her own affection for Rachel because
Quinn had enough faith in Rachel to believe that if Finn had been better to Rachel, it was highly likely
Rachel would have just stayed with Finn. Rachel was faithful like that and she had been happy enough
in the relationship, though Quinn truly believed that if Rachel and Finn's relationship had continued on
their trajectory, Rachel would have eventually been very unhappy. The thought of Rachel being
unhappy made Quinn's stomach clench. She didn't want to get cocky and assume that Rachel was
perfectly happy and content with her, but at least Quinn could reassure herself that she really tried to
make Rachel happy.

“But I realized what true attraction is because of you,” Rachel said earnestly. “And I knew you were the
one for me when you showed up on the opening night for my very first show and he didn’t.” Rachel’s

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voice wavered. “You were still in that chair,” she said quietly. “But you still showed up and he didn’t. It
was my eighteenth birthday, remember? And I really thought he would have made the effort for my
birthday at least, even if he wasn't happy with me rehearsing so much. But you showed up even
though you still had one more exam. And you looked so beautiful, and I knew, of course, that you’d
mastered that chair pretty well by then, but it still must have been so hard for you to accomplish basic
things like getting dressed. All you had to do was show up, but you dressed like it was important to you
—” Rachel’s voice caught. “Like I was important to you, and I knew there was no real decision to be
made. It was you. I chose you then, and I choose you now. I will always choose you, because even
when I was confused, you were patient and you still chose me. You gave me the time I needed and
you did it without any expectations. No one ever did that for me. I gave you no guarantees then, but
you still chose me. So I am giving you a guarantee now.”

Quinn blinked back tears. “Okay,” she said quietly, because what else could she say in response?
How could she possibly doubt Rachel after all that?

She was so happy.

Their courtship had been slow and tentative—Quinn’s identity was still in flux from the accident, but
she was finally facing the hard truth that she was in love with Rachel and had been for a very long
time. She’d decided she wasn’t going to hide anymore—and though she realized that there wasn’t
much she could offer Rachel other than just herself and a long-term relationship, she threw her
metaphorical hat into the ring. Rachel still wore Finn’s dinky diamond around her finger back then, but
Quinn knew she had to try. Besides, even then, she thought maybe Rachel returned her feelings, just
a little. If she believed that there wasn't even an iota of interest, she never would have tried, but she'd
thought that maybe the attraction was mutual. And even if it was only just a little bit, it was enough to
give Quinn some hope that she could for once, finally, get what she wanted.

It took more than just a declaration of affection and attraction—it took months of late night
conversations, incredibly lengthy emails and awkward Skype conversations that left them both
blushing. Rachel was confused and afraid, which Quinn fully understood. But Rachel was sincere and
everything she said was heartfelt. She didn't play games and she didn't make promises, and by New
Year’s Eve of her freshman year at Yale, Quinn had a girlfriend who called her every night to say ‘I
love you.’

It was the first time she could remember looking forward to the New Year with actual hope.

--

Quinn built a life for herself at Yale—but college was always meant to be temporary and she didn’t see
the point in making anything permanent. New Haven was a college town anyway. But she was
planning on starting on the business of building a real life after graduation, after she’d moved to New
York, after she’d moved in with Rachel, and they were on their way to the marriage and kids and life
they’d discussed and both agreed they wanted.

Quinn didn’t have the minutia of her life planned out—but she knew she wanted Rachel, a couple of
kids and a respectable TV and film career.

--

Life went exactly the way they planned, exactly the way they wanted.

Quinn moved to New York after graduating from Yale—at the top of her class just the way she wanted.
She started working right away—first mostly in commercials, but then in parts on TV. Rachel continued
to work on stage, making a name for herself. She had no problem getting work and Quinn was so
proud because it seemed like Rachel was finally starting to believe in her own worth. Quinn wanted to
be the person Rachel loved most, but she still didn’t mind being Rachel’s second love if the stage was
her first. Maybe one day that would change, but Quinn was trying to enjoy every moment she could
with Rachel.

--

The next couple of years following graduation from Yale were the best in Quinn’s life—it was
practically cinematic. They were young and carefree and life was as they wished it to be.

Quinn worried sometimes that Rachel wished she were different. Quinn’s friends post-high school only
knew her as she was, and teased her gently for being anti-social. But nearly everyone who knew her
before the accident wished she would return to the way she was.

Quinn wondered if Rachel wanted her to be the sort of person more willing to hang out with friends and

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go out to the bars and clubs like everyone else their own age. But Rachel seemed content to have
Quinn accompany her to concerts, shows and movies—the sort of events where they could be around
people, but not be bothered. Quinn could block out the world and pretend it was just the two of them.
She didn’t want to entertain anyone other than Rachel. People just seemed more inclined to leave
them alone at concerts, shows and movies. At bars and clubs, Quinn always had to suffer fools.

Rachel was a social butterfly, and Quinn never begrudged her for that, but ever since the accident,
Quinn just had a harder time being around other people. It'd always been difficult, but she was just less
able to tolerate her frustration with it.

“It’s okay that you’re my old man girlfriend,” Rachel would tell her warmly.

“You’re so stupid,” Quinn would respond, rolling her eyes fondly.

“You’re stupid, stupid.”

“You’re stupider.”

“No, you’re stupider.”

They were always having that particular exchange. They were both so stupid, but Quinn was
amenable to that, because somehow it bolstered her confidence that they would be okay.
--

One night shortly after Rachel’s 24th birthday, Quinn laid in bed browsing through the newest pictures
of Beth that Shelby sent her. Beth was an ache that never went away entirely, but she was happy to
be a part of Beth’s life, however minimally. It wasn't perfect, but Quinn knew that her life in that arena
never would be. She was trying to reconcile herself with that.

Rachel came home just as Quinn laughed at the exasperated expression on Beth’s face when the little
blonde realized that Shelby was taking pictures. There was a picture of her at the same age in her
mother's home wearing the same expression. It tugged at Quinn, but it didn't hurt her as much at
nearly-25 as it did when she was 16.

Rachel flung herself into bed—she always did things so dramatically. She threw herself onto soft
surfaces after particularly rough days with the back of her wrist pressed to her forehead like she was
some distressed southern belle. She sighed mournfully and theatrically. She laughed from deep within
her belly. She still shrieked with giddiness and clutched Quinn’s hand to her chest when Quinn did
something that particularly made her happy. She was the living embodiment of ‘go big or go home’ in
an ironically miniaturized package. Rachel may have referred to her as “my old man girlfriend” but
Quinn referred to Rachel as “my pocket-sized girlfriend.”

Quinn just scooted over in the bed because she was sitting in the middle of it to make room for Rachel.
She wondered how many years the bed frame could withstand of Rachel's dramatic entrances.

Rachel’s head pressed against Quinn’s arm and she plucked the iPhone out of Quinn’s hand and
smiled down at the picture of Beth.

“She’s so beautiful, she looks just like you. She’s so obviously yours.”

Quinn smiled sadly. “She’s not mine,” she refuted quietly, however much she wished that weren’t the
case, she could accept now that Beth was not hers.

Quinn tweaked Rachel’s nose to lighten the mood and Rachel squeaked with outrage before she
scrunched up her nose like a bunny and then rubbed her nose on Quinn’s arm.

“Watch the nose, old man,” Rachel chided.

“It’s hard not to, Fun Size,” Quinn shot back.

They grinned at one another and Rachel continued to scroll through the pictures of Beth on Quinn’s
phone. Rachel smiled fondly. “It’s hard not to see you in her though,” she said quietly. A fleeting wistful
look crossed her face and then Rachel hid her face in Quinn’s neck for just a moment.

"Hey," Quinn said softly. "Look at me," she murmured. She was familiar enough with all of Rachel's
expressions to be a little concerned and a little curious. She wasn't worried yet.

Rachel looked up at her and rubbed her nose against Quinn’s cheek, passed Quinn’s phone back to
her and hid her face again, this time pressed against Quinn’s arm. She cuddled into Quinn, seeming

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like she wanted to burrow herself as deeply as she could. Quinn glanced down at Rachel and knew
some lengthy conversation was forthcoming, it was just that Rachel needed a moment to gather her
thoughts, so Quinn continued to look through the pictures of Beth.

Finally, after a minute, Rachel pulled her head away from Quinn’s arm and sat upright so she could
look Quinn in the eye.

“Do you want kids?” Rachel asked softly.

“Eventually,” Quinn countered carefully, curious as to where Rachel was going with it.

“Do you want kids with me?”

Quinn smiled. “That’s such a stupid question, stupid.”

Rachel grinned crookedly. “Humor me, stupid.”

Quinn rolled her eyes and smiled fondly. “Yes, I want kids with you. I want a baseball team of little
Rachel Berrys running around to drive me crazier.”

Rachel swallowed hard. “There’s no time like the present, old man,” she ventured. She paused. “But I
can’t promise you the baseball team. Would you satisfied with a bridge partner for each of us? At least
for now. For you, I may be convinced to have our very own string quartet of children. They could
serenade us with covers of that Vitamin String Quartet you like so much.”

Quinn laughed heartily. “You can’t play bridge and the Vitamin String Quartet plays covers. And now
that just proves you never listened to the mix CDs I made you. And as if you’d ever be able to listen to
a song and not sing along.”

“Yes, I can so play bridge,” Rachel refuted hotly. “And I can so listen to a song and not sing along.”

“Kumbaya my Lord, Kumbaya,” Quinn started to sing, purely to prove a point.

“Oh Lord, Kumbaya!” Rachel interrupted melodically because she simply could not help it.

Quinn stared at her expectantly with an amused raised eyebrow.

Rachel huffed in irritation. “I can still play bridge, old man.”

“Fun Size, making a bridge out of playing cards and then having your Barbra Streisand doll walk on it
isn’t playing bridge, you were just high on pain medication after you got your wisdom teeth extracted.”

“She was walking on the bridge to Terabithia!”

Quinn sighed. “You know that book makes me cry.”

Rachel’s lower lip jutted out, chastened. “Sorry,” she murmured, because she knew that book
genuinely did always make Quinn cry. “You want a baby,” she said quietly. “Don’t you?”

Quinn swallowed hard. It’s not that she wanted to replace Beth, but there was a void inside her that
longed for a child. She found herself staring at children, particularly babies, and felt this nameless guilt
for giving her child away. Sometimes, she was worried she would never have a chance to hold a baby
in a delivery room again.

She wasn’t a partier and she wasn’t so married to the idea of having a career as an actress that she
would delay having kids. But she could also recognize that she was four months shy of her 25th
birthday and Rachel just turned 24, so maybe having children was a dream she had to defer, just for a
little while until Rachel was ready.

“We aren’t ready,” Quinn protested quietly. She was ready to say what she thought Rachel wanted to
hear. “I mean, neither of us can take time off to have a baby. We’re just getting started with our
careers and—”

The truth was, Rachel had been working steadily since she was 17, and she really could take some
time off if she wanted. The conversation was making Quinn too hopeful and she didn’t want her hopes
to swell only to be let down if Rachel wasn’t going where Quinn thought she was going with this,
because the truth was, Quinn was ready, really ready, for kids.

“I’ll take the time off,” Rachel interrupted softly. “I want this and I know you want this, too. I’ve been

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working since we graduated high school. I think I can take some time off.”

“But you always said you didn’t even want to think about kids until you won at least two Tony awards.”

Rachel had been nominated every year for the past five years, but never won. Rachel hoped she
wouldn’t end up the Susan Lucci of Broadway.

“My priorities have changed,” Rachel said softly. “I’ve been working for seven years, Quinn. And I feel
like if I keep putting things off until I do one more thing in my career, there will always be something
else I want to do, and soon life will have passed by.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“You’d never bring it up,” Rachel said quietly. “You don’t fight me on anything.”

“Are you saying having kids is something we need to fight about?”

“No, of course not. But I’m saying you never really seem to express what you want in this relationship
and as we both know, that is not a trait I share. I say what I want and you make it happen. I just…I
want to make sure that you’re happy, too, that you’re getting what you want, too. Relationships have to
be reciprocal and I feel like I am always taking more than my fair share.”

“I don’t…I don’t want anything,” Quinn faltered. “I’m happy.”

“Are you saying you don’t want kids right now?”

“I would love to,” Quinn responded quietly, honestly. “But I don’t want you to feel obliged. That’s not a
good reason to bring kids into the world. I get it—there’s stuff you still want to be able to do, like happy
hours with your castmates and after parties and--”

“I don’t care about that stuff,” Rachel interrupted. “I go because it’s fun, but I don’t have to go. But I see
the way you look at pictures of Beth and I see the way you look at babies every time we pass one.”

Quinn’s eyes flickered downward. She hadn’t realized that she’d been so transparent and she never
thought Rachel noticed. It’s not that Rachel was oblivious or self-involved, though she frequently was,
it’s just that Quinn never thought Rachel was ready the way she was ready.

“I’m not looking for more,” Quinn said softly. “If that’s where this is coming from. I told you. I don’t want
you to feel obliged about this.”

“I want to, I don’t feel obliged,” Rachel said fervently. “If it were both physically and financially feasible,
we could have that baseball team you want.” Rachel paused. “I don’t want us to be Octomom, but I
love the idea of a big, noisy chaotic house.”

“Our apartment is already noisy and chaotic thanks to you,” Quinn said sniffling.

“Quiet, old man,” Rachel said, swatting gently at Quinn’s arm. She swallowed hard and peered into
Quinn’s eyes. “Let’s have a baby,” Rachel murmured.

Quinn beamed at her. “Really?” she whispered.

“Really,” Rachel murmured. “I’ll take the time off—you keep working. Take the time to continue
establishing yourself. I think…” she took a deep breath. “I think my favorite role would be being a
mommy to our kids. With you. Even if my career never recovers from taking the time off, I feel like I
would have no regrets if I could raise a baby with you.”

“Okay,” Quinn said quietly. “Let’s have a baby.”

--

Tags: glee, quinn/rachel

( 7 comments — Leave a comment )

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1

takethisstep
2012-04-26 11:53 pm (local)

Sweet, new story! (Instead of writing my big theory paper, I have been rereading your stories. So,
yay!)
(Reply) (Thread)

sulkygeekff
2012-04-26 11:59 pm (local)

write your paper!!!!!

(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)

takethisstep
2012-04-27 12:11 am (local)

Eh. I've got time. :)

(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)

stacks_of_books
2012-04-29 10:43 pm (local)

The set up is so good, I hate to to click to the next part but I will. I'm totally thrilled to see a new story.
It's the perfect ending to my vacation.

Excellent.
(Reply) (Thread)

sulkygeekff
2012-04-30 11:39 pm (local)

aw, I hope you had a great vacation!!

(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)

justonemoreanon
2012-04-30 10:57 pm (local)

I was so excited to see you had a fic up but then BAM your authors note at the beginning "NOT A
HAPPY ENDING" lol and RACHEL DIES just uagjdkasf Whatever I'm still excited. I'm ready for the
angst.
(Reply) (Thread)

sulkygeekff
2012-04-30 11:41 pm (local)

aww! well, I am working on a happier fic right now!I only have chapter 1 finished though and
working on chapter 2. I know where I want to end up, but not exactly sure where I'm going with it. I
can send the first chapter over an LJ message, if you want...
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)

( 7 comments — Leave a comment )

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Absolution [1b/3] quinn/rachel quinntana rachel
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April 26th, 2012

They talked about it for a few more months just to be sure they weren't rushing into
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things or being whimsical and capricious. But once they decided that yes, it was absolutely the right
time, things moved pretty quickly. They talked about Quinn donating the egg, but truthfully that was
more costly and Quinn honestly wanted a smaller version of Rachel more than she wanted a smaller
version of herself. They asked Sam to be the donor, since apparently Quinn and Sam had a “strikingly
uncanny resemblance bordering on frightening.”

Rachel got pregnant right away, on the very first try, which made it seem fated, but they kept it to
themselves. They decided it was better to wait a bit—just to be sure. They didn’t even tell Sam yet in
case something happened. They didn’t want him to carry that if he didn’t have to do so.

Quinn knew it was for the best to keep it quiet anyway. At least for now. She was going to catch hell
from her parents for getting Rachel pregnant before marrying her, but if they had a baby to coo over,
they’d likely be a little more forgiving. Her father, in particular, would be livid—he begrudgingly
accepted the fact she was in a relationship with a woman, and he even liked Rachel, but during their
last phone call, he warned her that she’d better get a ring around Rachel’s finger before any babies
came around.

Quinn made the promise without much thought—when she made the promise, she still believed
marriage should come before babies even though she’d already messed that one up. But if Rachel
wanted babies before marriage, then that was fine with Quinn.

But she had a ring that was ready to go around Rachel’s finger—Quinn was just waiting for the right
moment and was still trying to formulate the right way to ask.

She bought it even before Rachel brought up having kids, but Quinn didn’t want Rachel to think she
was only asking because she was pregnant. She knew it was sort of ridiculous, but she also thought
that was a distinction that would matter to Rachel. She got so persnickety over the most random
things.

--

Everyone thought Rachel was the dreamer and Quinn was the realist, which was kind of true, but in
their specific relationship, Rachel was the cynic and Quinn was the romantic. Rachel tended to have
her head in the clouds, so their relationship was something out of an Anthropologie catalogue half the
time and a Bed and Breakfast ad the other. But Rachel was also the one who wanted to have serious
discussions about the division of labor for household chores and talks about finances, while Quinn just
wanted to believe she would always be okay with whatever Rachel wanted, just as long what Rachel
wanted was to stay together.

So it was Rachel who brought up the idea of life insurance.

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Quinn was appalled by the very idea. “You’re only 24 and you’re in great health.”

Rachel smiled crookedly. “Things can happen,” she said softly. “I don’t want to think of that, but I took
out a life insurance plan and I made you the beneficiary. I just want to make sure that you and our
baby are taken care of.”

Quinn was horrified. “I don’t want to benefit if something happened to you! God, Rachel. What do you
think of me?”

“I think you're the best," Rachel said sincerely. "That's what I think of you. But I told you, if something
happened to me, I just want to make sure you’re taken care of—it’s not about benefitting.”

The unsaid sentiment was that Rachel was the main breadwinner. It was something that made Quinn
a little sore because she did not like to think she was the parasite in the relationship. And because she
didn’t want to be the little wife at home the way her mother had been for most of her adult life.

“It sounds like it to me,” Quinn said sullenly.

“I’ve had it for a while,” Rachel murmured. “Ever since I started to make real money. Even before we
got pregnant.” She swallowed hard. “I just—I just…I’m telling you now because I wanted to make sure
you knew, now that we’re having a baby. I didn't tell you before because I knew you'd react like this,
but now that we're starting a family, I knew you'd have to know.”

“Cancel it,” Quinn pleaded. “It feels like—it feels like you’re daring God or something.”

Rachel shook her head. “I’m trying to be responsible,” she said quietly. “I owe it to you to take care of
you every way that I can. Your dad was the one who first brought it up to me during one of our visits
home and when I talked to my dads about it, they agreed. And don't be upset with your father, baby.
My dads said that though I am a little young to be worried about that sort of thing, it's never too soon to
be fiscally responsible.” Rachel smiled impishly. "Jews. We should tell your dad about it, you know
how he's so charmingly anti-Semitic with his backhanded compliments."

Quinn did not rise to the bait to lighten the mood, though she did agree her father tended to
compliment Rachel's family in some of the most racist, homophobic and anti-Semitic ways possible.
He wasn't as big of a prick as he used to be, but he was still really offensive without realizing it.

“Then I’m taking one out on me, too.”

Rachel nodded. “We’ll take it as it comes,” she said softly with a smile. She stroked Quinn’s hair. “If
something ever happens to me,” she said. “I don’t…I don’t want you to be one of those people who
grieve forever and ever. You just seem like you would be,” Rachel said quietly.

Quinn wanted to refute that, but she could recognize the truth. No matter how hard she tried, she
always felt things more acutely than other people—it’s why she always tried so hard to not allow
herself to get too close. It worked because people thought she was an Ice Princess, but she should
have known that she’d never be able to fool Rachel.

“I want us to have everything,” Rachel continued quietly. “But I want you to have everything. It’s very
flattering to think that you love me enough to be marooned by grief forever if you lost me. But I just
can’t be that selfish. Not with you. You—you have to promise me, no matter what, if something
happens to me, you’ll do everything you can to have everything—a family, a career, a life.”

Quinn swallowed hard. “Baby,” she said softly. “Why are you doing this? Are you…are you trying to tell
me something? Are you…are you sick or something? Is something wrong with our baby?”

Rachel laughed. “No,” she said, grinning. “The baby and I are both fine.” She reached out with one
hand to rub away the furrow that developed between Quinn’s brows. “But I just need to know you’ll be
okay without me.”

“I would be inconsolable if I were without you,” Quinn said heatedly.

The intensity of Quinn’s statement seemed to take Rachel aback. “You’ll have our baseball team of
kids, baby,” Rachel murmured after a moment’s pause “You would be fine without me.”

“No,” Quinn said quietly. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Just the thought of a life without Rachel was starting to make her panic. She couldn’t stand it.

“Baby,” Rachel said softly, stroking Quinn’s cheek. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll do everything you

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can to have everything. Promise me. If something were to happen to me, you have to be okay. Please.
Please promise me,” she begged.

Quinn swallowed hard. She hesitated, because the truth was, she felt like she would die without
Rachel. But she could not deny Rachel when her girlfriend looked that serious and that earnest. “I
promise.”

Rachel beamed at her and pulled Quinn towards her by grabbing onto Quinn’s blouse and yanking her
forward. She kissed Quinn’s temple. “We’ll just have to make a pact that when we go, we go together,
old man. Because I think I’d die without you, too.”

Quinn laughed gently. “You’re so stupid, stupid.”

Rachel dabbed under her eyes with the pads of her index, middle and fourth fingers. “Shut up, stupid,”
she murmured.
--

Ever since she graduated from high school, Quinn thought her life was only getting better. She had a
great time in college, she had a girlfriend, she was getting steady work even if she wasn’t an A-lister
yet and she was going to be a mother. She was known as a “hey, it’s that girl” actress now—she’d
been on enough TV programs and had small parts in enough movies that she was pretty recognizable.
She was proud of herself, but she was more proud of the fact that she was going to be a mother. It
was still too early in the pregnancy, but she had a strong feeling the baby was a girl and she was
attached to the name Bernadette Rachel Fabray-Berry, or Berry-Fabray, if Rachel would allow it.

Quinn didn't much care about the name-- she wasn't egotistical enough to insist the baby carry her
name. She just desperately wanted a family, and more importantly, she wanted to get things right with
her family. She loved both her parents and they all got along much better now that they all lived
separately. But she couldn't forget the unhappiness of her own childhood, from the tyranny of her
father to the failure of her mother to be protective. She wanted something better for her own kids and
she couldn't wait to be the kind of mother who would crawl around on the floor with her kids or build
forts out of pillows. She wanted to make homemade costumes and dress her kids up in ridiculous
outfits like pumpkins or astronauts. She wanted bath time and bedtime stories and homework hour.
She was ready and her heart was bursting with the anticipation that she was going to be a mom.

It couldn't come soon enough.

Then she secured a role as a regular on a TV pilot that she had a really good feeling about. Rachel
was three months pregnant by then and when Quinn told her about getting the role, Rachel alternated
between screaming with joy and crying with pride.

It was completely ridiculous, but so, so endearing. Rachel wasn’t even hormonal yet. She was just
being herself.

It's not like it was the first role Quinn ever got. In fact, Quinn had a recurring role on a TV series where
she was in so many of the episodes and had so many lines, it was practically like she was a regular
anyway. But actually being in the opening credit of a TV series as 'starring' was new and she was so
incredibly excited.
--

They decided to celebrate by taking a weekend trip upstate. Quinn had a small house in the middle of
the country away from everyone and everything. It'd been a 25th birthday present from her father at
her mother’s behest from a few months before.

Quinn knew her parents’ relationship had been far from perfect, but they’d truly been in love. Even
when her father cheated, Quinn knew he didn’t look at those women the way he looked at her mother.
And though her mom dated other men, she never smiled at them the way she smiled at her father. Her
mother grew a backbone after the divorce and she really started to run the show. If it hadn’t been for
her mother’s urging, it was likely her father never would have accepted her back into his life, but her
mom demanded that they at least be on speaking terms, and so it happened.

Rachel loved Quinn’s little house, but they had limited opportunities to get there thus far, having only
been there once, and Quinn thought it was the perfect place to propose. The home got a lot of light
because of the skylights in the living room and kitchen and Rachel loved the natural light.

The first and only time they visited, Rachel sprawled on the sofa and basked in the incoming sunlight
like a cat. She was usually practically vibrating with kinetic energy—she always seemed to be in
motion. Even when she was sitting, she was swinging her legs around or tapping out a beat on her
thighs with her fingertips. Sometimes, for no reason at all, her legs or arms would flail around into the

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air—Quinn swore Rachel had some mild form of Tourette’s. Even when sleeping, Rachel would
frequently end up on her belly with her legs swinging in the air. The girl didn’t walk, she skipped, and if
something particularly interesting caught her eye, she would squeal, jump and grab Quinn’s hand to
practically run to it. She started conversations with strangers on the street and ended up with a new
best friend and plans for dinner. She hummed while she cooked and pretended to be a cross between
Julia Child and Rachael Ray—even narrating her actions like she had her own cooking show. She was
never still, while Quinn could sit for hours with a good book, her iPod and something to drink and
possibly something sweet to nibble on. Quinn thought of Rachel as an electron, always zipping from
one point to the other.

But in Quinn’s little country house—more of a cottage, really, Rachel was practically feline. Quinn
loved to see Rachel at rest, stretching out on the sofa like a cat, before relaxing again and resuming
her sloth. She’d rub her nose on Rachel’s cheek, she’d smile when Rachel would smile and they could
go back to doing absolutely nothing.

This was the place where Rachel felt like she could rest and Quinn knew it was the ideal place to
propose.

Quinn wanted it to be perfect—she had a ring in her purse and a speech prepared. She didn’t want
Rachel to do a thing, so they rented a car and she drove—Rachel was only 24, so the rental agency
didn’t let her drive anyway. Quinn had already turned 25, obviously, and though she was still terrified
of driving, she thought it would be barbaric of her to make her pregnant girlfriend drive when she
planned on proposing to said girlfriend.

Rachel plugged her iPod into the auxiliary plug midway through the trip.

“I thought we should get a head start on being parents,” she said with an impish smile.

Seconds later, the car was filled with the sounds of ‘It’s a Small World After All.”

Quinn remembered that she listened to the song long enough to start mocking Rachel. Rachel was
already distracted from ‘It’s a Small World, After All’ playing on the speakers and was softly singing
“old MacDonald had a farm, e-i-e-i-o.”

Quinn took her eyes off the road, just for a second, maybe even a microsecond, to say “you’re so stu
—” while Rachel was singing “and on his farm he had some ducks, e-i-e-i-o”

Quinn had already turned her eyes back to the road and saw the car barreling towards them.

She couldn’t even scream before they crashed.

Rachel never even saw it coming—she was scrolling through her iPod to look for more of the
children’s music that now filled her iPod. She always did overprepare way too soon.

The next thing Quinn remembered was that she was upside down in a car with blood trickling into her
face, calling out to Rachel who did not respond.

She remembered screaming.

--

The next few days she spent in the hospital were a blur to her. She could barely remember anything
about the accident, but she could not forget that she killed her pregnant girlfriend.

Her family tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault that some drunk driver decided to defy social norms and
state law to get behind the wheel, but Quinn knew it was her fault. Her father swore he would sue the
other driver and bleed him dry, but all Quinn wanted to do was bleed herself dry.

After all, she’d looked away from the road.

It was just for a second, long enough for the car barreling down the other side of the two-lane road to
veer into her lane and crash into her, but it was a second she could not get back. A second where she
let her guard down to mock the mother of her baby. A second where she could have abided by the
defensive driving lectures her parents gave her when she first got her license (all the good that did),
but didn’t. A second where she could have reacted, but she was too slow.

A second that ruined everything.

--

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She escaped with only a few scratches, bruises, and a pretty severe concussion, but Rachel—and the
baby, their baby, were dead.

It was all her fault.

She didn't understand how she could have escaped relatively unscathed and Rachel was dead. It just
didn't make sense to her. She wished she'd been the one to die instead of Rachel.

--

Quinn wasn't sure if she was projecting or not, but she could have sworn that most of the people at the
funeral were looking at her and blaming her for everything.

Some people said it outright.

Finn looked gaunt and demolished as he screamed at her, "she would still be alive if you hadn't stolen
her from me! You ruin everything because you only care about yourself!"

He was still cursing at her while he was dragged away by Kurt and Burt Hummel.

Shelby looked despondent and like she had not slept in weeks.

“You killed my daughter,” Shelby hissed at her.

“Don’t you talk to my daughter that way!” Judy Fabray defended in fury. “I was more of a mother to
Rachel than you were! When was the last time you even spoke to her?!”

“You killed my daughter!” Shelby screamed. “You killed her! And I will never have the chance to be her
mom because of you!”

Shelby looked so much like Rachel, that Quinn couldn’t even see Shelby anymore. She saw Rachel.
She saw Rachel screaming “you killed me and I will never have the chance to be a mom because of
you.”

Even after Shelby apologized, her eyes so contrite, and her face so like Rachel’s, that Quinn could not
help but forgive her instantly, Quinn knew Shelby had nothing to apologize for, because she was right.

Everyone else told her that Shelby was full of shit and full of her own regrets when it came to Rachel
because she'd lost her chance while she had it. But Quinn thought she was right.

She killed Rachel.

She killed their baby.

She kept the existence of the tiny life that had been growing inside Rachel to herself. She just couldn’t
bear telling anyone because then everyone would know that she’d killed so much more than Rachel.
She couldn't give people more of a reason to grieve.

But sometimes, when people tried to comfort her and tried to get her to move on with her life, she
wanted to scream at them that they had no idea how much she lost that day. She didn’t just lose
Rachel, she lost her family and any chance she would ever have in life to have anything she truly
wanted. But she'd been so, so close. And really, that's what made things hurt even more.

--

After the funeral, Quinn stayed in bed for two weeks straight, getting out of bed only to use the
bathroom. Her parents and sister brought her the occasional drink of water, when she could take it and
food when she would accept it. But mostly they left her alone to her grief, because that was the Fabray
way—ignoring the problem until it either withered or went away.

It went on that way before Santana came over to try out an ill-advised and ill-timed attempt at tough
love. She and Brittany grabbed each of her arms while her mother and her sister grabbed each of her
ankles and they attempted to drag her into the bathroom to take a shower. She could smell the stink of
herself by this point, but she didn’t care. She didn’t have a thing to live for. She didn’t care if she
repelled everyone until the End of Days. She just wanted to die. No one seemed to understand that
she didn't care if she physically got sick-- she was soul sick and she didn't think there would ever be a

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cure for that.

She screamed when the spray of water hit her and wailed when the round of shampoo hit her hair,
getting soap into her mouth. She fought and screamed, she clawed at them as they tried to make her
clean. And when she was left shivering like a rat with a towel around her, they looked at her
triumphantly, like this was just the thing she needed to get out of her depression, but it just made her
feel worse because she realized she would never get to playfully fight with Rachel over who got to take
the first shower. She burst into tears and kicked them out of her apartment.

She could look back with hindsight that Santana and Brittany had been very distraught themselves,
particularly Santana. Quinn always suspected there was some sort of benign unresolved attraction
between her girlfriend and Santana, because she could still very clearly remember the wail Santana let
out when they lowered Rachel into the ground. That heartbroken expression of grief had made it very
real to Quinn that Rachel was truly gone.

After she kicked her friends and family out, she got back into bed that was permeated with the stink of
her and curled up on her side in the fetal position. She couldn’t bring herself to cross the invisible
boundary into Rachel’s side of the bed because it would be admitting a truth she could not face. She
pulled Rachel’s pillow towards her. For days, she could smell herself on Rachel's pillow, because she'd
pressed it so hard against her own body, her scent had replaced Rachel's. But she tried again and
again, hoping this time, there would be a new outcome, that she could catch just a glimpse of Rachel
again.

But Rachel was gone. Jewish tradition dictated she be buried quickly and she was already in the
ground before Quinn could even process what happened.

--

She’d read somewhere once that people who’d lost someone they loved very suddenly the way she
lost Rachel often felt haunted by the other person, perhaps because there was so much unfinished.

Quinn wished Rachel would haunt her. She prayed and begged for Rachel to haunt her. But she was
just gone.

--

She lived that way for a few months. She didn’t have anything or anyone to live for anymore, so she
ignored the pleas of her friends and family to get some help.

Even her father, with whom she had a tenuous relationship at best, got in on the action. She’d never
officially reconciled with her father. At least, not in the sense that they had some heartfelt conversation
about the distance that had been between them. One day, he called her up to say “your mother tells
me you got into Yale, congratulations,” and they were on speaking terms again.

After Rachel died and it seemed like she may never move on from it, he told her as gently as he could
muster, “Quinnie, sometimes in life, when you are going through hell, you have to keep going without
looking back.”

She wanted to scream at him, she wanted to demand what the hell he would know of fidelity and
eternal fealty which were the two things she planned to promise in her marriage vows. He may have
loved her mother, but he couldn’t be faithful. But she wasn’t like that. She was Lot’s wife, always
looking back to catch one final glimpse of her beloved home no matter what God decreed. She
couldn’t just move on, she would always, always look back.

Mourning Rachel was the only way she had left of loving her and Quinn couldn't stop. Moving on would
be like admitting that she didn’t love Rachel enough.

But she didn’t scream at him. Instead, she curled up in bed and turned her back to him.

He sighed and he placed a hesitant hand on her head, and waited for a moment for a response that
did not come. He sighed again and left.

Joe Hart, her friend from high school, tried to comfort her by telling her he was praying for her to
accept God’s plan. She kicked him out of her apartment and told him never to contact her again, even
if he discovered an iota of human compassion. The only thing that kept her from killing herself was
believing that God had a plan for her, and maybe this was part of it. But it wasn’t the sort of thing one
told a grieving person. A person didn’t pray for another person to accept God’s plan. A person prayed
for another person to feel a little relief, and sometimes, a person needed a little relief from God’s plan.
She couldn't understand how he could still be so lacking in human compassion that he couldn't

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understand that.

She was religious, too. She had faith, too. But she didn't need to have "this is part of God's plan for
you" shoved into her face either.

But after a few months of barely living, she realized on her own, and definitely not from the misguided
attempts of her loved ones, that she owed Rachel more than this—she had a promise to keep and she
could never deny Rachel anything. Not when she was living and certainly not now that she was dead
and would never be able to ask or demand anything from her ever again.
--

She rejoined the world of the living insofar as she started to work again—and she was actually pretty
successful at it, too. In that respect, she got what she wanted. Somehow the roles started to come
easy for her, as did the commercial success and critical acclaim. But the Emmy nominations and six-
and-seven figure income deals did nothing to make her forget Rachel.

‘Please God, give her back,’ Quinn pleaded every night.

But, of course, her desperate pleas were heard on deaf ears.

--
Five years passed and she missed Rachel every day—the hurt never went away in total opposition to
the empty promises every made her about the passage of time making things hurt less. She knew it
never would. She lived in the world and participated in its rituals, but she knew she was not a part of
the world. The old aphorism about time healing all wounds was a lie—the hurt only became more
acute as time passed went on and she watched friends and acquaintances get married and have kids.
She was happy for them, but their happiness was salt in her wound—she would never have any of
that, but she came achingly close. She had an ultrasound to prove it.

She didn’t mind so much that she was going to spend the rest of her life alone. She couldn’t fathom
ever loving anyone as much as she loved Rachel and the baby she’d already become attached to. She
accepted she’d never find anyone again, but it didn’t make it hurt less.

One night, she impetuously decided that she needed a vacation—she’d just filmed six films back to
back and she had not had a day or night off in two years. There was always something to film or some
project to promote. The premieres and interviews were far outside her comfort zone, and were nothing
she wanted to engage in. But she went because it was compulsory and when she came home she
spoke out loud to tell Rachel all about it, knowing full well that Rachel could not respond, and that she
would have looked crazy to an outside observer.

She was worn out and she needed a vacation, just a few days by herself.

But she was also a masochist and so she took a trip upstate to see the Northern Lights.

She got behind the wheel of a car for the first time in five years, her hands clenched around the wheel
so tight, her knuckles turned white. She drove that way the entire way.

She knew that some small part of her was hoping that maybe she wouldn’t come back.

Tags: glee, quinn/rachel

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

mjacton
2012-04-27 12:38 pm (local)

This is definitely sad, but I like how you wrote Quinn's grief. I appreciate that time didn't heal the
wound.
(Reply) (Thread)

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stacks_of_books
2012-04-30 01:54 am (local)

I agree with mjacton. Time doesn't always heal and it's nice to see that conveved. Brilliant details. I
loved the tough love approach and how it didn't work at all.
(Reply) (Thread)

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Absolution [2/3] quinn/rachel quinntana rachel
Part 2 rachel/santana santana santana/quinn shelby
sulkygeekff
April 26th, 2012

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Time had no meaning for Rachel.

She existed, but in a way that even she did not quite understand. Perhaps it was not for her to
understand. She wasn’t floating on a cloud, playing the harp. Instead, she felt like this very indistinct
presence, but she wasn't everywhere at once. She always felt like she was nowhere.

It felt simultaneously eerie and familiar.

She thought she was in Heaven because she wasn’t being tortured like something she’d read in The
Inferno or in her childhood book of Graeco-Roman myths. She had no corporeal body anymore, so
she didn’t feel any physical pain. She knew she was dead and accepted it. There was still so much in
her life that had been left unaccomplished, but she wasn’t angry about it because she’d been very
happy while she was alive. And anyway, in her current state, she felt contentment and bliss, like she
was being rewarded for being a good person in life which seemed like the very definition of heaven to
her.

Sometimes, she thought back to the night she died and she thought it was a good death. Not in the
sense it was particularly noble—for God’s sake, at the time she was listening to ‘It’s a Small World
After All’ and singing ‘Old MacDonald’ while rifling through her iPod to create a children’s music
playlist. But it’d been good in the sense that she’d never even seen it coming. One moment she was
alive, and then the next—

Well, what did it matter what happened to her next?

It was only after she died that she realized death wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a person,
it was being left behind.

She thought that she was in Heaven, but sometimes she thought she was in Hell knowing how much
Quinn hurt. She did not believe it was merciful that she could be privy to Quinn's heartache, but there
were other times when she thought it was preferable that she could know how Quinn was doing. She
was happy that she could still see Quinn and it didn’t even hurt much that she couldn’t interact with
her. She wasn't privy to everything that Quinn did or happened to her-- it was more she got a glimpse
into how Quinn was feeling. And so, Quinn cried out to her, begging her to come back, begging to be
haunted as if Rachel were Casper or something. Quinn cried out to God and begging for her to be
returned.

Rachel heard every plea, and it was this that panged her, the only thing that hurt because she did not
feel any of her own pain. But she'd loved Quinn so much that Quinn's pain was much more painful
than her own pain.

Rachel begged to be sent back, but who she was begging, she did not know. She just begged.

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“I would give up anything to make her stop hurting.”

--

And then one day, she made her plea again and her very being caught on fire. She did not have a
body anymore and had become accustomed to not having one, but suddenly, she felt corporeal again
and her brain and nerve endings burned. And then she felt like she was falling—the falling felt infinite.
She couldn’t move—she couldn’t scream.

She truly felt like she was in Hell.

She knew that she'd been in Heaven and now she was being expelled. For the first time in her life and
afterlife, she felt true fear. She had no idea where she was going or what was happening to her.

Tags: glee, quinn/rachel

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

mjacton
2012-04-27 12:43 pm (local)

Wow, was this the shortest faberry chapter you've ever written? For some reason, I feel like it's
important to acknowledge that if it is. LOL
(Reply) (Thread)

sulkygeekff
2012-04-28 10:40 pm (local)

I think it might be! LOL

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Absolution [3/3] quinn/rachel quinntana rachel
Part 3 rachel/santana santana santana/quinn shelby
sulkygeekff
April 26th, 2012

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Quinn was reading Robinson Crusoe in the house in the country that her father purchased for her as
25th birthday present. She was so glad for it now--at 30, her antisocial tendencies had only increased,
and she was glad for a place to which she could get away.

Something fell in through the skylight in the living room—once Quinn really looked, she realized it was
a person, and she screamed in horror.

On instinct, she ran to the woman to check on her well-being, though a part of her mind screamed "of
course she's dead!" The woman was naked with smoke emanating from around her like a hot fry pan
taken off the stove and run under water.

Quinn reached out to the woman and yanked her hand away when her hand touched skin—the
woman was so hot, she scalded. And yet, she looked flawless.

She was not burned.

Grabbing a blanket from the couch, Quinn covered the woman and turned her over.

Her breath escaped her lungs in a harsh whoosh.

Rachel.

The woman fell through her skylight was Rachel.

Unmistakably Rachel—the scar on her forehead, the tiny little mole on her cheek, the little scar on her
knee from where she fell during a morning run through Central Park. And then there was the small
tattoo on Rachel's hip of Quinn's birthday-- 4/26/1994

Her eyes were closed, but she looked so alive

Quinn trembled. Her hand shook as she reached toward Rachel but her hand hovered in the air and
she couldn’t bring herself to touch. She thought this was a dream and if she touched Rachel, she
would wake up.

Quinn released a harsh breath and clutched her fists into the front of her shirt, clenching the material in
her hands. If this was a dream, then she needed it to freeze, so she could hold onto it. If all she could
have in her life was this moment, she did not want to wake up ever again. She had been smitten and
so fully and completely in love with this woman.

She had to hold onto this moment, it was all she was ever going to have.

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She had to--

But then Rachel let out a low groan and Quinn had to reach out, she had to touch her.

Quinn's hand trembled as her fingers delicately touched Rachel's cheek.

Rachel’s chest heaved up and down—with breath, actual breath.

Quinn swallowed hard. “Baby?” she whispered.

Rachel did not respond.

“Rachel?”

Still, Rachel did not respond.

Quinn touched her hand to Rachel’s forehead, not caring that the heat emanating from Rachel’s skin
seared hers.

“Hey stupid,” Quinn whispered tenderly, sniffling Her hand trailed down Rachel's face-- that
expressive, perfect, delicate face still took her breath away. She'd spent years covertly studying that
face and when she could finally gaze at Rachel openly, Quinn spent hours just staring at her. She'd
memorized every line, every angle, every crease.

This was Rachel.

Quinn didn’t bother to wipe away the tears falling from her eyes. She was certain this was a dream, but
she never wanted it to end. She thought perhaps this was finally the mercy and reprieve she'd wanted
all these years. This perfect, wonderful dreams. “Open your eyes and look at me, Polly Pocket,” she
cooed tenderly.

Quinn knew she would soon wake up from this dream and she would go back to immersing herself in
the fictitious world created by Daniel Defoe. But for now, she just wanted to look into Rachel’s eyes
one more time.

She dreamed constantly of Rachel being alive. Sometimes, she had a dream within a dream in which
Rachel was dead and she woke up relieved that Rachel was alive only to wake up from the dream to
realize it wasn’t a dream after all.

But this-- this felt real.

Rachel opened her eyes and jerked away from Quinn’s touch, an action that stole the breath from
Quinn's lungs. How could she feel so hurt, even in a dream?

Rachel sat up and looked around wildly, like a wounded, hunted animal. She jumped unsteadily to her
feet, stumbling. Quinn glanced down and saw blood on the broken glass from the skylight and she
stepped closer to Rachel, wishing she could stop whatever pain Rachel was feeling.

Rachel covered her eyes with the palms of her hands and began to scream-- anguished and fearful. It
sounded almost inhumane. Quinn had never heard anything like it.

Quinn’s heart slammed in her chest-- she could feel its irregular beat and thought perhaps she was
having a heart attack. “Rachel,” she said tearfully. “Rachel, baby. Please. It’s me, baby.” She reached
out and took Rachel’s hands and held them—they were still warm, but they did not burn as before. Her
vision was blurred with tears, but she was desperate to make things better.

Rachel took a shuddering breath. She opened her eyes and flinched. She began to squint, as though
her eyes hurt, like the lights in the room were too bright. “Quinn,” she whispered quietly. She flinched
again and covered her ears with her hands.. She was still breathing in harsh pants. “Quinn? Quinn? Is
this…is this real?”

Quinn wiped at her eyes and sniffled. “I think this is a dream.”

She pulled Rachel close and held her tightly. Maybe this was a dream or a delusion, but she planned
never to wake up and never get well. She smelled Rachel’s hair and was startled that Rachel still
smelled exactly as she remembered. Her memory was that acute when it came to Rachel.

Rachel rubbed her nose into Quinn’s cheek and Quinn realized that Rachel was crying as well.
“Quinn,” Rachel sobbed. “Quinn. Quinn.”

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--

They collapsed into the floor and Quinn pulled Rachel into her lap so the glass would not cut her. They
sat there, their bodies melded together and cried for a long time.

At some point, Quinn was dimly aware that she stood up and carried Rachel into the bedroom.

They didn't say another word to one another, but they held onto each other as tightly as possible, both
clearly afraid to let go.

--

Somehow they fell asleep that night.

--

When Quinn woke up the next morning, she was still curled up on the left side of the bed—the side
considered hers.

She woke up alone with sunlight filtering in through a window and the sound of birds singing.

She sobbed when she realized it had all been a dream, but when she reached out to touch the right
side of the bed, she realized it was still warm.

She’d long been accustomed to waking up alone, even before Rachel died because her girl had
always been an early riser. But it’d been years since she touched Rachel’s side of the bed and found it
still warm.. It was then she became aware that her legs stung and she looked down at herself to see
her lower extremities peppered with cuts from broken glass. It was only then that Quinn let herself
believe that either she was still sleeping and dreaming, or everything from the night before, however
improbable, had been real

“Rachel?” Quinn called out, her voice breaking. “Rachel!”

There was a long pause and then a sob from within the walk-in closet.

Quinn ran to it and opened the door.

Rachel was huddled in the corner of the closet, knees pulled up to chest. She was rocking herself back
and forth.

The sight made Quinn tremble.

“Baby?” Quinn called out quietly.

“Everything is so bright and loud and raw. It all hurts.” Rachel sounded anguished. “I thought it would
get better after I woke up but it’s worse and it’s too much and I don’t understand and—”

Rachel was cut off as Quinn quickly walked inside and shut the door behind her. The action seemed to
silence her.

Quinn found Rachel in the darkness, thinking distantly that it was a miracle she didn't t rip over
anything or that she did not have to grope in the darkness for her. She found Rachel immediately and
pulled her close, unwilling to let her go. She felt Rachel 's body shake-- she seemed so afraid and
Quinn was a little glad that she could not see Rachel's face, because she did not want to see Rachel
afraid.

Rachel clung to her desperately, and Quinn held on as tightly and fiercely as she could. Rachel felt
frail and fragile in her arms. Before Rachel died, Quinn was starting to enjoy the very minimal weight
gain Rachel was getting from the baby. All Quinn could think was that soon, there would be a bellyful
of baby separating them and how much they would both love that. She'd eagerly anticipated the day
she could feel their child kicking against Rachel's belly. But of course, that never came to pass.

And now, Rachel was here and it just seemed so impossible. She had to be dreaming, but if so, this
would be the most detailed and vivid dream she ever had. She was glad for it.

Quinn didn’t know what was a dream and what was reality anymore, and truthfully, she didn’t care as
long as she could have Rachel in her arms. If she was dreaming, then she never wanted to wake up. If
she was finally dead, then she was glad. And if this was real, however impossible that seemed, then

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she thanked God that He finally answered her prayers.

“Baby,” Quinn whispered, taking care to keep her voice as low as possible, but still Rachel flinched in
her arms. Rachel's tearful words earlier reverberated in her mind--everything is so bright and loud and
raw. It all hurts. Quinn soothed Rachel as gently as possible. “I’m here. Trust me, baby.”

Rachel pressed into the blonde and buried her face into the side of Quinn’s neck. She breathed Quinn
in and she seemed to relax, just a little. “You’re here,” she whispered.

“You’re here,” Quinn said tenderly, trying, but failing not to cry.

“You’re you,” Rachel said wonderingly. “Hi, old man.”

Quinn released a soft laugh. “Hi, Fun Size.”

--

The next few days were an adjustment. First, Quinn had someone come out to fix the skylight, except
she had it boarded up this time because the luminescence from even low wattage light bulbs were too
bright for Rachel. Once that was done, she had extra thick curtains installed at all the windows in
addition to the existing shutters. Everything was too bright for Rachel—the sun made her flinch.
Everything was too loud—even singing birds made her cry out.

She was not the same as before, but she was back, and Quinn would not reject any gift from God.

She thought it was just an adjustment—Rachel just needed time and everything could go back to
normal.

--

With the proliferation of zombies in pop culture, the first thing Quinn thought about once she had a
chance to really think about things, was that maybe Rachel was a zombie. But Rachel was breathing,
her heart beat and she definitely did not have a hankering for human flesh—she didn’t have much of
an appetite, period, so Quinn wasn’t worried.

She thought for a moment that Rachel might be an angel, but she just seemed to be made of flesh and
bone and so Quinn discarded that notion, too.

She didn't know exactly how it happened, but this was Rachel, in all of her human glory.
--

It took a few days to believe that it was real, but once they each accepted the new reality, they each
thought of the baby.

Quinn went into town to buy a pregnancy test, her fear of driving trumped by her need to know if she
was going to be a mother, and they waited with bated breaths for the outcome.

They were both crushed to realize that just because Rachel was pregnant before did not mean she
was pregnant now.

“Don’t cry,” Quinn pleaded, kissing Rachel’s temple because Rachel's cries were heartbreaking and
Quinn was just so desperate to comfort her. Quinn wiped away her own years and dabbed under
Rachel’s eyes with the pads of her thumb. “Please don’t cry,” she begged. This seemed to break
Rachel even more, particularly because she already seemed so lost. “We have another chance.” She
swallowed hard. "We have another chance."

Rachel sniffed and tried to catch her breath. "We have another chance," she echoed, her voice small.

--

Quinn did not want to seem crazy, so she told no one of Rachel's return.

More importantly, Quinn thought that if anyone did find out that Rachel was back, she would be ripped
away and cloistered into some research lab where uncaring scientists would poke and prod at her.

It was not a thought that Quinn could abide. She failed to protect Rachel once. It would not happen
again.

Rachel was too fragile to withstand any of that, and Quinn would go to any lengths to protect Rachel.

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Quinn called her agent, manager and publicist to let them know she was taking an indefinite break and
she did not want to be disturbed. They protested, but she pushed and they relented.

They all sounded worried, convinced that she was finally having the breakdown everyone had seen
coming. But in reality, she just wanted some privacy. The fact she built a huge fence around the
country house probably did not bolster anyone's confidence that she wasn't going to end up some
prettier version of Howard Hughes.

But she didn't care about her career anymore. As hard as she worked on it, it ceased to matter. The
only thing that mattered now was Rachel. Her career had been a means to a living, but it was not her
life, and since she'd worked so hard over the past five years, Quinn thought it was possible she'd
never have to work again if she was careful with her money. All she wanted to do was stay in this
house with Rachel for the rest of their lives and Rachel seemed inclined to do the same.

That bothered Quinn a little-- that her girlfriend who was once so brimming with energy that she could
not be still was like a turtle in its shell. But she was still too relieved and overjoyed by the simple fact of
having Rachel back to think about anything else.

Far in the recesses of her mind, doubts and fears tickled at her. But in the forefront of her mind, she
thought about how she had her life back.

But soon, when Rachel did not get better, the fears prickled at her until Quinn could not ignore them.

--

Quinn became obsessed with where Rachel had been for the past five years. She did not want to
believe that her lovingly sweet, gentle, kind girlfriend could have gone to Hell, but she did not
understand why Rachel seemed so traumatized.

And she wondered if her girlfriend had gone to Heaven, had she been expelled?

Then she thought of the only two people who’d truly come back from the dead—Jesus Christ and
Lazarus and she wondered if her girlfriend had been touched by something special. If she had some
sort of special mission.

Once she was able to think past her initial joy, she thought about God and His plan and felt certain that
if this was part of His plan, then He must have a plan for Rachel. There must have been a purpose for
this, and it could not be Rachel hiding away, crying, in a darkened room while Quinn tried to cajole her
into banal things she used to find exciting, fun or pleasurable.

What was the purpose of all this, why did they each have to suffer so much? She wanted to believe
that God would never give her more than she could bear, but she was really having her doubts.

Quinn only had questions, no answers and it tormented her.

If Rachel were the same as she was before, Quinn would only be grateful and ask no questions. But
Rachel was different—almost damaged, though Quinn loathed herself for thinking it. The joy Quinn felt
in having Rachel back threaten to overwhelm her—and she finally understood why Rachel was
constantly in motion. When one had a reservoir of joy within herself, she had to move to burn it. Quinn
found herself running around doing everything she could for Rachel that she had not been able to do
for the past five years—opening doors, reaching for things, and covering Rachel with a blanket.

The house was always exceedingly warm now. Rachel always seemed to feel cold no matter what the
thermostat was set to, and the house dark, the lights dimmed. It was so quiet now, too.

Quinn felt her joy deflate a little to be replaced with worry.

She started ordering all the books that she could from Amazon on the subject of religion and
spirituality. She knew she would be mortified if her shopping history ever became public. But she just
had to try to figure it out and she'd already ran the situation over so many times in her own mind, that
she sought answers out in the theories of others.

She wanted to chalk it up to some weird Northern Lights phenomenon—Rachel was taken and
returned from her coinciding with a time when the Northern Lights were visible. But Quinn just couldn’t
let things go. She wanted some definitive answers. She needed a way to help her girl. She didn’t care
so much about how Rachel came back, but she needed to know why. She needed to know why
Rachel would be able to come back only to suffer like this.

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Rachel spent much of the time sleeping, and even her waking hours were spent huddled in bed with
her eyes closed. She did not pretend to sleep, because she knew she would not be able to fool Quinn.
But wherever Rachel went, she used to bring noise, joy and chaos. Now there was only a suffocating
silence.

She wanted to pretend Rachel just needed time. But Quinn was worried that maybe she was just
hoping for too much.

Rachel didn’t want to talk about where she’d been, and Quinn couldn’t bring herself to push. Just as
she always did with Rachel, she either adjusted or gave in entirely.

--

Their reunion was not without its joys, however. As lost as Rachel seemed, she seemed to delight in
pressing her body as close to Quinn’s as possible.

“I missed you, old man,” Rachel whispered.

“I missed you, too,” Quinn confessed softly.

“I know,” Rachel breathed. Then she smiled and Quinn remembered how desperately she'd prayed to
see that smile again, and how her prayers were answered now.

--

After a month, Rachel began to branch out into the other parts of the house and Quinn thought
perhaps the dark cloud was finally lifting. But she couldn’t get Rachel to leave the house, day or night,
no matter how much Quinn cajoled. Quinn knew they had to be careful—when Rachel died, the lights
on Broadway were dimmed on her behalf. There were a lot of fans who mourned her death. And
currently there was a revival of Wicked which made people sigh about how tragic it was that Rachel
never got the chance to play Elphaba when she seemed born for it. If they went out in public, Rachel
could easily be recognized, but Quinn thought as long as they tried to keep things low profile, they
could be okay. Quinn was worried about how much Rachel seemed to want to stay isolated.

Quinn was disinclined to socialize, and as much as she joked about being agoraphobic, she was not
truly agoraphobic. Though the urge to participate in the world was not as strong in her as it was in
others, she still wanted to be a part of it. In those early days after Rachel died, she went into seclusion,
but she managed to claw herself out of her despair through sheer force of will.

Now Rachel was back for unexplainable reasons and though Quinn knew things were different, she
was happy. She didn’t want to go back into mourning mode when she felt she had nothing to mourn,
and everything to celebrate.

Rachel urged her to go out without her.

“My old man girlfriend,” Rachel teased. “This feels so familiar, me urging you to go out. Why don’t you
go for a constitutional?”

“Come with me,” Quinn said softly. “It’s overcast today.”

Rachel genuinely looked regretful, but she shook her head. “Maybe another day.”

Quinn swallowed hard. “Okay, Rach.”

Quinn took a drive to the nearest grocery store. Rachel ate strictly out of necessity and not because
she had any real appetite. Quinn tried her best to find foods that would appeal to Rachel. Rachel used
to eat with gusto and there were few things Quinn loved more than Rachel’s ‘foodgasm’ face.

Quinn missed a lot of things about the way Rachel was before. Quinn wished she could see Rachel
laugh so hard, her limbs flailed around like she was epileptic. Quinn desperately wished she could
Rachel pout in an attempt to conceal a smile-- that was one of her favorite expressions on Rachel's
face. And though Rachel was with her again, it’d still been so so long since Quinn had seen those
things.

When she got back from the grocery store, she made Rachel a vegan tofu scramble, because Rachel
once loved to eat breakfast for dinner.

Rachel came up behind Quinn while the blonde cooked and wrapped her arms around Quinn’s waist.
She stood up on her tiptoes and rubbed her nose against the side of Quinn’s neck.

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“Hi, old man,” Rachel whispered, leaning up further on her toes so her lips could tickle Quinn’s
earlobes.

“Hi, Polly Pocket,” Quinn greeted quietly, tears springing to her eyes because for this moment she
could pretend that everything was all right. She leaned back into Rachel and relished in the feeling of
Rachel holding her.

Rachel kissed Quinn’s neck.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve been,” Rachel murmured. “I know it’s always been harder on you than it is
on me. I just don’t how else to be. I’m still trying to sort myself out.”

“It’s okay,” Quinn whispered. “I love you, stupid.”

Rachel’s laughter was genuine. “I love you, too, stupid.”

--

Though it embarrassed Quinn, Rachel purchased all of Quinn's movies that Rachel never had the
opportunity to see. She bought entire seasons of TV shows where Quinn only made a recurring guest
appearance to ‘preserve continuity.’ Quinn could not watch or hear herself in a recorded medium, but
she bore it for Rachel, and she basked in Rachel’s pride.

“I’m so proud of you,” Rachel said, her eyes shining with happy tears after they shut off the TV once
their little marathon was over. “You kept your promise to me—you went for it”

Quinn laughed softly. “You should check out my first Emmy acceptance speech.”

Rachel smiled wryly. “I already did, baby. It’s on YouTube, you know.”

Quinn ducked her head and blushed. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Rachel smiled. “I wanted to see if you were okay while I was…gone.”

“I was…okay,” Quinn dodged.

“Were you with anyone while I was gone?” Rachel asked tentatively.

Quinn hesitated. “Which response would make you more upset? Yes or no?”

Rachel grinned. “I died, Quinn. I had no expectations. I…I wish you would have found someone.” She
looked sad. "I wish you would have been with someone, Quinn. I don't like the idea of you being
lonely."

Quinn swallowed visibly. “I just couldn’t, Rach. The thought of being with anyone other than you…”she
swallowed. “You were supposed to be my wife and marriage is forever.”

“Marriage isn’t really forever, baby. It’s ‘til death and I was…” Rachel trailed off. They didn't discuss the
fact that she was dead and now she was not. The proverbial elephant in the room. She swallowed.
“You wanted to marry me?”

“I still want to marry you,” Quinn said sincerely. She wiped her hand across her eyes. “I still have the
ring. I was going to ask you when we got here. The night you…” she couldn’t even say it.

“Was the other driver okay?”

Quinn felt fury rise within her at the mere thought of that man. “Who cares about him?”

“Quinn,” Rachel chided gently.

“He was fine,” Quinn spat out. “The drunk drivers are always fine. It’s something about the alcohol
making their bodies relaxed or whatever. He’s in jail, where he belongs.”

“Can I see the ring?” Rachel asked suddenly, in an effort to change the subject. Quinn was becoming
agitated and she had that tortured look on her face that always tore Rachel's heart out. Rachel had
always been a sucker for a sob story, but there was just something so appealing about a sad person
that always tried to tough it out on their own, and Quinn could look so, so sad and she always tried to
shoulder her burdens on her own. It was probably a self-defeating trait to find appealing in another

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person, but Rachel loved that particular quality in Quinn.

A wide smile spread across Quinn’s face. “Of course.”

She took Rachel by the hand and in the first moment of true giddiness since Rachel came back, they
ran, giggling, into the bedroom.

Quinn got the ring out of the first drawer of her bureau and opened the ring box. She took a deep
breath and presented it to Rachel.

Rachel peered at it. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly. “I love it.”

“Did you know,” Quinn said quietly. “That I’ve been wanting to buy a ring for you ever since Finn
bought you that dinky little stone in high school?” she laughed quietly. “But I wanted to wait until I could
buy you one that was worthy of you.”

Rachel gave her a small smile. “How is Finn?”

Quinn glanced down gloomily. “Finn and I aren’t on speaking terms anymore,” she admitted quietly.

They'd never reconciled after Rachel died and Finn lashed out at her. Finn had apologized for lashing
out at her, but Quinn had never forgiven him. She knew from mutual friends that he'd only recently
started to date someone, the first person since Rachel. Quinn knew if anyone had been able to
understand her grief, it would have been Finn. But she just couldn't bring herself to reach out to him.

“Oh,” Rachel said quietly.

“Yeah,” Quinn said.

They stared down at the ring together for a long moment until Quinn was struck with the urge to get
down onto one knee.

Rachel gasped quietly and Quinn smiled reassuringly at her.

"I don't have a speech prepared. I did once, but…" Quinn trailed off. "It all seems dumb now," she
admitted quietly. "I talked about how I'd always protect you and keep you safe, and I think we both
know how spectacularly I failed you in that regard."

"Quinn," Rachel chided gently. "Please, you can't blame yourself, you--"

“I think we both know now that I would be so lost with you,” Quinn interrupted gently. “I feel like the
past five years have been hell and I'm being rewarded now with having you back," Quinn suppressed
the sob that was rising up inside her. She rubbed her throat with her fist because a lump was rising
and she was sure her emotions would overtake her. "I need you," Quinn said softly. "I just…I really
need you, Rach. I know we're still trying to figure all this out, and maybe we never will. Maybe we'll
never know what God's plan is for us, why all this happened. I just know that I get down on my knees
every night to thank God for bringing you into my life and then bringing you back and I…I…need to ask
you now. I just…I need to do this, even if you say no." Quinn drew a shaky breath, and trembled with
fear and anticipation. "Will you…” she swallowed hard. “Will you marry me?” she asked, looking up at
Rachel with hope.

Rachel’s eyes filled with tears. “Do you still want to marry me?”

“Of course,” Quinn breathed. “How could you even ask me that? There won't ever be another you for
me.”

Rachel swallowed hard. “I don’t want you to feel obliged me to me,” she said softly. “I’m not the same
way I was before—”

“That doesn’t mean there’s anything different in the way I feel about you,” Quinn protested. “You just
need time to…adjust.”

“I’m a freak, Quinn.”

“You aren’t a freak! Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that!”

“I just can’t see why you would still want to marry me,” Rachel said quietly.

“It’s because I love you,” Quinn said. “Can’t that be enough?” Quinn asked as she pulled the ring out of

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the box and held it up to Rachel. Quinn did not fall in love easily, but she did not fall out of love easily
either. She'd always been the type to truly fall in love once and have that be that. Forever.

Rachel smiled lopsidedly and held out her left hand so Quinn could slip the ring onto her finger. “I
promise to be better. For you.”

“Just be you,” Quinn said softly, slipping the ring on. "You don't need to promise me anything." She
stood up to meet Rachel and their lips met in a kiss. Quinn moaned at the feeling of those soft, perfect
lips against hers. That perfect, lush mouth. She’d kissed plenty of people in her life, but her first kiss
with Rachel left all the ones that came before it in the dust. They pulled apart, breathless and panting.
“You’ve always been enough for me.”

Rachel clung to Quinn. “Please don’t leave me,” she sobbed. “I’m so lost and I will never figure it out
without you.”

Quinn petted Rachel’s hair. She kissed Rachel’s temple. “Stupid,” she chided. “You know you would
never have to worry about that.”

Rachel took a few heaving breaths to try to contain her sobs. “I love you, old man," she whispered. "I
love you so much. There's nothing I wouldn't give up for you. Please believe me on that."

Rachel sounded so vehement and passionate-- it'd been a while since Quinn heard Rachel like that,
that she actually could not respond for a moment, so taken aback was she. Quinn had become
accustomed to this new, sad, listless version of Rachel.

"I know," Quinn murmured comfortingly, kissing the top of Rachel's head. "I believe you, baby.:

--

In the following months, Quinn could see that Rachel tried. God, it was so obvious that she tried.

Rachel could have fooled anyone else, but she couldn’t fool Quinn. She’d spent so many years
observing Rachel, taking note of every single reaction, every smile, every quirk of the eyebrow, every
widening of the eyes, every smirk. Quinn knew the difference between joy and a simulacra of joy. At
least in Rachel.

Quinn took a two year sabbatical, ignoring the rest of the world. She devoted her life to making Rachel
feel better, but it felt futile. Rachel tried to hide it, but Quinn could tell she was in agony. Quinn
watched carefully for two years and Rachel was like a flower, slowly wilting. She watched the little light
that Rachel had left in her eyes slowly stamp out.

Rachel was like a house being slowly abandoned-- the doors and windows were shuttered, the
furniture and mirrors covered, and very slowly, even the most minute life ceased to exist.

--

“Where were you?” Quinn asked one night while they laid in bed in the dark, when it all became too
much. “Where were you all that time?”

They never really talked about it, but that didn't mean either of them stopped thinking about it.

Rachel averted her eyes. “I don’t know,” she said quietly.

“Were you in heaven?” Quinn pressed.

Quinn was beginning to think that maybe that was the most likely explanation. After all, once
experiencing the bliss of heaven, could anyone adjust to the inexplicably cruelty of this life? Life wasn't
referred to as 'this mortal coil' because it consistently overflowed with joy.

"Quinn, don't," Rachel said, pushing away from Quinn.

Quinn held onto Rachel and pulled her close. "Please tell me," she begged. "I've been wondering all
this time."

Rachel was silent and the room was quiet for a very long time. Quinn couldn't even hear Rachel
breathe. That was something new that developed after Rachel came back-- Rachel had always been
somewhat of a noisy breather. Santana and Quinn used to tease her for being a "mouth breather."
After Rachel came back, she breathed so quietly, it frightened Quinn. Quinn needed to hear Rachel
breathe to feel like anything was right in the world.

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Just when Quinn started to get scared that she couldn't hear Rachel breathing, despite the fact she
could feel it, since her hand was on Rachel's chest, Rachel finally spoke.

Rachel released a soft sigh. “I think so,” she admitted in a whisper. She released a quiet sob. “I heard
your prayers,” she confessed. “And I couldn’t stand it. You were so sad. I don’t even know if sad is
adequate enough to convey what you were feeling. You cried out to me,” Rachel whispered. "You
just…you hurt so much. You hurt all the time."

Quinn couldn’t utter a word, she couldn’t even breathe.

“I didn’t meet God or anything if that’s what you want to know,” Rachel said softly. “I didn’t even know
who or what I was begging, but I kept begging to come back. I really didn't even know how much time
passed by-- everything just seemed to stand still where I was. And then one moment I was begging to
come back to you and the next moment I felt like I was on fire, like I was falling and then I was here.
And I was so happy to be with you again.” Rachel’s breathing became shaky and her body started to
tremble. “But even after all this time, everything is too loud and too bright and too much for me and I
don’t know how to be a part of the world again. I feel like I’m in hell and it just won't end. I want it to be
over and then I hate myself because that would mean I'd have to leave you and I don't think I could
ever deal with that again.”

A sob tore out of Quinn’s throat and she threw her arms around Rachel in a tight hug, wanting never to
let go. “I’m sorry,” she wept. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

It'd been her terrible suspicion all this time, but she could never left that thought fully take form, and
she could never articulate it, because it was just too awful.

“No!” Rachel cried out. “I’m sorry, I never should have told you! You need me! And I need you! I never
should have told you! I never should have told you!”

“I’ll fix this,” Quinn promised, crying. “I’ll fix it!”

She felt so bereft. She felt even worse than when Rachel died. To know that Rachel was in heaven
and then willingly had herself thrown out was likely the worst thing Quinn ever heard. Rachel been free
of pain, and now she was in agony. Rachel wished for death. It was more than Quinn could bear.
Quinn knew what it was like to wish herself dead, and that was not a state of being she would wish on
her worst enemy, let alone the woman she loved most in the world.

--

Quinn had always thought that ‘be careful what you wish for’ was just some pithy little moral from
some Aesop fable. She never believed that it could possibly be the ruling truth of her life.

--

Quinn knew what she needed to do, but the mere thought of it tore her apart. She knew she would be
breaking a basic Commandment and she still believed in God enough that she knew she would go to
Hell. She would never see Rachel again, not in this life or in the eternal one she was always taught
would follow.

But for Rachel, she would go to Hell.

--

She did not want Rachel to suffer—she couldn’t bear the idea of making Rachel suffer.

In the end, Quinn poisoned her. She couldn't be actively violent with Rachel. Every mode of death she
thought about made Quinn feel sick. So, in the end, Quinn used the most passive means possible.

It was amazing what a person could find on the internet.

--

The most awful part of it was how easy it was.

Rachel trusted her completely, so when Quinn passed her a plate of food and poured her a glass of
wine, Rachel just smiled and said 'thank you.' There wasn't an iota of suspicion.

Even after dinner, when Rachel started to feel unwell, there was no suspicion directed at Quinn

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whatsoever.

“I don’t feel well,” Rachel moaned.

“Lie down, I’ll take care of you,” Quinn whispered.

Rachel smiled trustingly. “You always do.”

Rachel laid down and Quinn rubbed her belly.

"Thank you," Rachel murmured sleepily.

"Anytime," Quinn whispered through her tears and clenched teeth.

She was glad it was dark in the room, because she knew her tone of voice made Rachel's eyes flutter
open. If there had been any light in the room, Rachel would have seen the look on Quinn's face and
become worried and afraid.

Quinn did not want Rachel to be worried and afraid anymore.

"You okay, old man?" Rachel asked, her voice already indicating she was going to fall asleep at any
moment.

"I'm good, Fun Size," Quinn said, her voice strangled by the lump in her throat.

"Good…" Rachel mumbled. "Good…love you…"

"I love you, too, Rachel."

And then Rachel became quiet.

It was stormy that night, which seemed befitting. Quinn held Rachel through the worst of it, because
Rachel had always been afraid of thunder.

It was so quiet in the room that Quinn heard Rachel release a tiny, choked wheeze. It was closer to a
sigh.

Her very last breath.

Quinn continued to hold her, thinking that she would have at least a few hours. Rachel looked so
peaceful and Quinn knew she was finally at rest.

Quinn knew Rachel was gone because ever since Rachel came back, she never looked restful, even
when she was sleeping.

But instead, Rachel began to fade away in her arms, dissolving into light.

“No!” Quinn cried out. “No! Please! Let me have…let me…” she didn’t know what she was begging for,
what she wanted. But she knew this was happening too quickly. Rachel was being taken from her
again and once again, she couldn’t stop it.

It was all too soon.

"Please God, just let me have a few minutes," Quinn choked out.

But nothing stopped and then Rachel was really, truly gone.

One moment Rachel was there in her arms and then she wasn’t.

Bereft and despondent, Quinn collapsed into the bed, burying her face into Rachel's pillow and
breathing in. Quinn could still smell her. Rachel's side of the bed was still warm.

In the back of her mind, she knew that perhaps it was for the best. If she called the police, no one
would have believed her story, and she knew she could never bring herself to hide Rachel’s body.
What was it that people did to bodies? 'Dispose' of them? Quinn knew she could not bring herself to do
that. She couldn't do that to Rachel.

So maybe it was better this way.

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But she’d truly thought she’d have a little more time.

Alone again once more, Quinn cried herself to sleep.

--

When Quinn woke up the next morning, she reached out to the other side of the bed out of instinct and
habit, and found it cold.

She screamed and sobbed into her pillow. She knew she would never see her girlfriend again. She’d
killed her girlfriend which meant she would go to Hell.

It was a sacrifice she was willing to make if it meant Rachel wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. But that
didn’t make it hurt any less.

She sobbed for a time that felt endless. All of her desperate prayers for Rachel's return had been for
naught. She'd gotten what she begged for, and she still lost. It seemed like the story of her life-- just
when she thought she was going to get everything she wanted, she lost it all.

In losing Rachel, she realized why some people chose to commit suicide, and in losing Rachel twice,
she thought she was better dead than alive.

She thought about poisoning herself the way she poisoned Rachel, but she prayed that if she lived
long enough God would forgive her. He certainly did not have the time to forgive her yet if she killed
herself now.

Quinn clutched Rachel's pillow close to her chest and buried her face into the sheets.

'I'll let you rest this time, Rachel,' she thought. 'I promise. I know maybe it seems hard to believe now
after what I did, but I love you so much. But rest this time, baby. You earned it.'

Quinn released another shuddering sob and wondered when her time to rest would come, if ever.

She knew she would never be able to want anything for herself other than forgiveness. It was almost
comforting to know that she had no more hope for her life left, nothing to wish for or want other than to
be forgiven.

THE END

Originally this was going to be longer, but whatever

( 19 comments — Leave a comment )

0_0_loki_0_0
2012-04-27 09:52 am (local)

It's wasn't right for them to bring back Buffy and they did nothing real to understand or help her after
they did. At least Quinn didn't actively try to bring Rachel back from the dead, wishes and pleas like
hers while normal, are not grantable so she's not at real fault for Rachel's return. The way she
accommodates Rachel's needs was sweet and realistic, but Rachel didn't belong here anymore and
Quinn had the foresight, granted after a while, to realize that. While it's sad, her killing Rachel was
merciful and something I think God will forgive her for, even if she never forgives herself. I really liked
this story, thanks for writing.
(Reply) (Thread)

sulkygeekff
2012-04-28 10:41 pm (local)

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I've always thought Buffy really was better off dead once she died in The Gift-- I always thought to
be ripped out of Heaven like that must have been agonising!

Thank you so much for reading and commenting!!

(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)

mjacton
2012-04-27 01:27 pm (local)

My word, I really wasn't expecting that. I thought Rachel would just be gone again one day. But, I think
this is better somehow. It gives some sense of meaning and control to Quinn.

Even though this ending is so devastating, I somehow feel like it could be worse. I still feel like this is a
love story, even though it's not happily ever after.

You're so good at this! I feel like my compliments are empty now, but that's all I have to give. :)

But, I think I can beg for more!

(Reply) (Thread)

sulkygeekff
2012-04-28 10:42 pm (local)

Aw, thank you so much! I really appreciate how you always comment, it always makes my day! I
have another one in the works right now, but so far, it's only 18 pages
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)

takethisstep
2012-04-27 03:21 pm (local)

I like it a lot! Sometimes a girl needs some angst (okay, I totally read all those horrible Lurlene
McDaniels's books when I was a teen because I loved how sad they made me) and this was just the
right amount for last night. :)

Poor, poor Quinn. And poor Rachel. But mostly, poor Quinn. I think I love her character and Santana
the most in the show--they've got so much depth that is just waiting to be explored--and of all the fic I
read, your Quinns and your Rachels are the best.
(Reply) (Thread)

sulkygeekff
2012-04-28 10:43 pm (local)

Lurline McDaniels! LOL. I was just thinking about her.

I love Quinn and I hate this show for ruining her life!!
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)

(Deleted comment)

sulkygeekff
2012-04-28 10:43 pm (local)

Aw, thank you! If it makes you feel better, the one I am working on right now is going to end
happily. At least, I think so.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)

(Deleted comment)

sulkygeekff
2012-04-30 11:48 pm (local)

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lol, you're cute! I actually thought about doing something really mean to Rachel in the fic
I'm writing now, but I decided against it!
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)

heyaobsessed
2012-04-28 08:05 am (local)

That was a wonderful story. I really love your writing. I think you're one of very few authors that give
me so many emotions (I don't even know if that sentence makes sense, but whatever). I loved having
an email saying you had posted a new story. I hope you post another one soon... I honestly can't get
enough of your work :-) Thank you!!
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sulkygeekff
2012-04-28 10:44 pm (local)

aw, thank you! That means a lot to me!!

I am working on one, but so far, it's only 18 pages and I have a lot more to go before it's done!
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riazalo
2012-04-29 12:51 am (local)

I keep listening to "For Blue Skies" by Strays Don't Sleep and I keep imagining if this were a movie I
would hear this song play during the credits (all the while I'll be sobbing ngl). If there were to be a
soundtrack for Absolution, what songs would you include?
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sulkygeekff
2012-04-30 11:47 pm (local)

I never heard that song until you introduced it to me. Thank you!

I'm not sure about an official soundtrack for this fic, but while I was writing it, I listened to the
following songs a lot:

BellX1-- Eve, the Apple of My Eye

Duke Spirit-- Wooden Heart
Cat Power-- The Greatest
Rufus Wainwright-- This Love Affair
The Shins-- It's Only Life
Sara Lov-- All out of Love
Tom Waits-- Ol'55
Edie Brickell-- Circle

and I also listened to Tom Waits' "Children Story" a lot but that really is a story, not a song, from
the Orphans: Bastards discs

This was such an awesome question. This was one of the few stories where I didn't have an
imaginary soundtrack for, by the way! Weird!

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justonemoreanon
2012-05-01 02:53 am (local)

Oh man sulky what the hell. This was really a sad fic. Sad as in you've been warned and you kinda
know the ending already and you think youre ready but in the end you bawl like a baby. I mean I was
already crying after reading 1a because there are all these fun moments and the reader already knows

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Rachel's gonna die and then 1b I stopped at the part where Quinn was promising that she'd have
everything. LOL AND CHAPTER 2 it's Rachel's perspective and she's the more talkative outgoing one
and it's the shortest chapter xD but holy geezus THIS CHAPTER RACHEL'S DISAPPEARING AND
QUINN IS LIKE GIVE ME A FUCKING MOMENTN ASDFGHJKKLLLJDHHDB IM STILL SOBBING.
Dgdnhhsbuh.

Geezus.

Edited at 2012-05-01 03:19 am (local)

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sulkygeekff
2012-05-07 10:33 pm (local)

I knooow. I feel like a jerk, but I'm totally writing a story now that is mostly fluffy with very little
angst. I was even thinking of infusing it with the usual Korean-melodrama influenced antics that I
like to include, and finally decided that I did not want anything bad to happen in this fic-- though I
did contemplate having it end in another death just for kicks. God, I'm sick.
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cate53
2012-05-02 06:42 pm (local)

Great to see a new story from you, and as expected, heartbreaking! I was actually surprised we had a
nice long build up of happy Rachel and Quinn, but you made up for that lightness with the darkness of
the end! From your summary I was expecting spectral visions on the TV or something like Frequency,
with perhaps a few songs like the Buffy musical. I forgot about Buffy's 'I was in heaven' pain. Your
story was just so bleak. We didn't really see any happiness return to them, and then Quinn's choice to
kill and lose Rachel...just awful!
Despite the emotional torture, this was an interesting story, and at least we had some happy times!!
Thanks for writing.
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sulkygeekff
2012-05-07 10:35 pm (local)

Hi! Thank you for commenting!

I knooow. This was pretty bleak, but...well, I have no excuse. I think I was just on a bleak kick.

My favourite part of that season of Buffy was the musical episode,and my favourite part of that
episode was the "I was in heaven" reveal. because, jesus. why the FUCK would Willow assume
that Buffy was in a hell-dimension? That would just mean there was never any justice in the
fucking universe
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husky04
2012-05-20 05:44 pm (local)

You weren't kidding when this was not going to be a happy story- more like one of the most
depressingly heartbreaking fics I've come across, as well as something that it took me a while to get
my head around, even without the normal dose of physical, emotional and/or sexual abuse that pops
up in one of your stories....

It started out seeming all nice & fluffy, with Rachel & Quinn being happy together- successful, being in
a great relationship, and going for a baby, yet waiting for the shoe to drop, and then wham! Rachel &
their baby die in a car accident thanks to a drunk driver, Quinn blames herself even if it isn't really her
fault, (not helped by Finn & Shelby lashing out) and Quinn just coming apart afterwards (very nicely
shown)- effectively shutting down for a few weeks, withdrawing for a bit, then trying to bury herself in
work in an attempt to move on, none of it really successful.

And then for Rachel, seeing how much Quinn was hurting, to leave Heaven so she go back to try and
be with her again was something. Alas, it did not lead to any sort of happiness, as Rachel was terribly

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out of place back on Earth & suffering horribly because of it, and despite Quinn's best efforts, it only
got worse, & it was heartbreaking seeing how no matter what, Rachel increasingly became a shell of
herself. Then, when Quinn decided that she had no choice but to take extreme measures to end
Rachel's suffering and hopefully send her back to Heaven, even though it meant that there was a good
chance she'd never see her again was one of the most heartwrenching scenes I've come across in
quite some time. Poor Rachel & poor Quinn. :(

Still, this was an incredibly well-done story, even if it was one of the most heartbreakingly bleak, sad, &
depressing things I've come across in a long time.

Can't wait for the next one- just hope it's not as bleak as this one was.
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sulkygeekff
2012-05-23 12:31 am (local)

aw, thank you so much! Your comments are always the highlight!

I am writing a story right now that is not bleak at all--I'm just putting on the finishing touches. I'm
hoping to get it out this week, but realistically, next week. It's the story I started months ago with
Rachel as Noah's older sister and Quinn being a little younger than Rachel and in love with
Rachel since childhood
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husky04
2012-05-23 12:49 am (local)

You're welcome.

And a new story in the works- yay! Though considering that combo of characters, could get
pretty interesting.

Did you watch the season finale at all- I had just finished posting my commentary in the
ontd_glee episode poll- such a letdown IMO
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