Pieces of Her, 14/?
Title: Pieces of Her, 14/?
Author: Kagekamay
Rating: R
Length: 2,703
Spoilers: AU after Special Education
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Rachel Berry wasn't unbreakable. Now she's broken and the only person who can put her back together is Quinn Fabray. WARNING deals with self harm
"Alright guys that's it for today. Keep working on your numbers and I'll see you tomorrow."
With that dismissal, people started drifting out the door in the usual twos and threes. Sam gave Quinn a quick glance, but she shook her head and he shrugged, choosing instead to leave with Finn. Santana and Brittany left close behind them, but not before Santana shot a parting glare in Quinn's direction. Beside her, Rachel was still slumped in her chair, just like she had been for the last hour. Her eyes had remained glued to the floor, ignoring the bickering around her about song choices and costumes. The old Rachel wouldn't have let them argue. She would have taken charge, outlining exactly what needed to be done before next week's competition. An image of the diva bouncing around enthusiastically swam before Quinn's eye before she forced it out of her mind. Thinking about how things used to be wasn't going to help right now.
"Ready to go?" Quinn asked, squeezing the brunette's hand which was still tightly clasped in hers.
Rachel nodded once and stood up, with Quinn reluctantly releasing her hand as she did so. The two of them walked to Quinn's car in silence, which was more unnerving than Quinn would have liked to admit. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she started to worry that the drive would be pretty much the same, until Rachel spoke.
"Thank you for defending me from Santana," she said quietly, her head turned away from Quinn as she stared out the window.
"Someone had to say something. She was being a complete bitch," Quinn growled, again questioning why she had ever been friends with Santana to start with. Oh yeah, popularity.
"Not entirely. She did have a right to question why I was getting off easier than the rest of you," Rachel reasoned, which made Quinn angrier. She hated that Rachel constantly made excuses for how other people treated her.
The blonde gripped the steering wheel, tighter, her voice clipped, "I wasn't going to let you strain yourself. Your leg isn't completely better yet."
Rachel shrugged noncommittally, "I could have managed, but the gesture is nice."
Quinn held back from telling Rachel that wasn't an option, reminding herself that she wouldn't take too kindly to her words. Instead, she didn't respond as she pulled into the Berry's driveway, surprised that the lights were off and no car was parked outside.
"Are your dads even home?" Quinn wondered aloud.
Rachel shook her head, opening the car door to leave, "They're working late today."
As Rachel started to get out, Quinn reached over and grabbed her shoulder,"Wait." Rachel looked at her questioningly, "How long are you going to be alone?"
"As long as it takes them to come home?" Quinn gave her look and she sighed, "Until eleven most likely."
Quinn chewed on her lip, looking at the brunette contemplatively, "Maybe I should come back after cheerios practice."
"I assure you, Quinn, that won't be necessary. I'll be fine," Rachel replied as she stepped out of the car.
"Wait!" Quinn called again, forcing Rachel to stop in the act of closing the door with her eyebrows raised.
"If I can't come over, can I at least call you after practice?" Quinn asked nervously, hoping Rachel wouldn't think she was being overly protective.
Rachel regarded Quinn for a moment, who fidgeted in her seat, "I see nothing wrong with that."
A huge grin started to form on the cheerleader's face as Rachel closed the door and walked up to her house. Quinn idled in the driveway until she saw Rachel was safely inside before driving back to school, feeling as if nothing could dampen her mood.
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
"Sloppy babies! You call that a pyramid? It's disgraceful! Hit the showers, I'm tired of dealing with such pathetic excuses for cheerleaders!"
Groaning from exhaustion, the cheerios started filing off to the locker room, led by Quinn who was trying not to show how bone tired she was. Coach Sylvester had taken it upon herself to drive the cheerios harder than ever to prepare for Regionals, and Quinn was starting to wonder if the pressure for a seventh National win had finally cracked her. The air condition hit her full force as the locker room door swung open and she sighed in happiness, heading to her locker to grab a spare change of clothes.
Most of the other cheerios were too tired to change, choosing to grab their bags and limp out of the room to get away from Sue as soon as they possibly could. She couldn't fault them for it, since Sue had been known to barge into the locker room and demand they fit in another hour or so of practice regardless of how tired they felt. Her muscles ached in protest as she proceeded to change, trading in her uniform for a grey tank top and running shorts. She took the time to fix her ponytail, gathering the loose strands that had been shaken loose during practice, before throwing her dirty uniform in her bag.
"Hey, Q!"
Quinn tensed, her bag strap falling from her hand as she straightened up and turned to find Santana leaning against the lockers behind her.
"We need to talk."
"About what?" Quinn asked, feigning disinterest as she regarded the girl coolly, "Is this about how you almost caused the pyramid to collapse?"
Santana gritted her teeth, but didn't retaliate, which intrigued Quinn even more. Whatever it was, it must be important.
"No. It's about Berry."
Quinn's eyes narrowed, and she didn't bother keeping the ice out of her voice, "Unless you're about to apologize for being a complete bitch to her, I'm not interested."
"What's your deal?" Santana pressed, pushing off the lockers, "Since when do you defend her? Hell, since when are you friends?"
"That's none of your concern," Quinn growled, "All you need to know is that Rachel and I came to an understanding."
Santana snorted disbelievingly, "That's bullshit."
"Believe what you want," Quinn shrugged, adopting her head bitch glare, "- But Rachel and I are friends, S. You mess with her, and you mess with me."
To her fury, Santana burst out laughing, "Is that your attempt at trying to intimidate me? Because honestly, it's kind of pathetic."
"Listen Lopez - "
"No you listen," Santana commanded, "This little friendship thing you have going on with Berry needs to end. People are talking, Q , and just because you're Head Cheerio doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."
"Newsflash, San, that's exactly what it means," Quinn shot back.
Santana rolled her eyes, "Yeah, if people are afraid you. But let's face it, you're not the cold-hearted bitch you used to be. You're not going to order random slushy attacks to keep people in check, you're just going to rely on your rep to do it for you."
Quinn scoffed at the Latina's words, but internally she was a little surprised the girl had picked up on that. She turned around and shouldered her bag, "Well thanks for the advice or whatever, but I'm not leaving Rachel anytime soon."
She walked past her to leave the locker room, thinking the conversation was over.
"Why not?" Santana called after her exasperatedly, "Why do you care so fucking much about her?"
The blonde paused and turned back around, looking the brunette straight in the eye, "Someone has to. I can't just sit by and watch her fade a little every day."
"Berry's a big girl, I'm sure she can handle whatever shit she has going on," Santana dismissed.
Quinn only vaguely registered her bag falling to the ground as she sent Santana sprawling back into the lockers with a shove, "You just don't get it, do you?"
Santana cursed and rubbed at her shoulder, "What the fuck Tubbers?"
Quinn didn't hear her. She was rooted in place, feeling all the helplessness and worry that had been accumulating come roaring to the surface.
"Rachel can't handle anything right now and you - " she pointed accusingly at Santana, " - you just have to make everything worse. Every time she seems like she seems to be getting back to normal, you go and ruin it."
"It's not my fault she can't take a couple insults," Santana insisted, taking a few of steps towards Quinn, "she needs to learn to toughen up."
"Toughen up?" Quinn repeated incredulously, "She's had plenty of time to do that thanks to us! All we ever did was insult her. We never even gave her chance," her voice cracked as she slumped back against the locker.
Santana looked unphased by her outburst, "She's Berry, of course we didn't give her a chance. We were popular, she wasn't, it's that simple."
"Well I'm sorry that I feel guilty for being a bitch," Quinn snapped, her hands curling into fists by her side, "Not all of us can be like you."
The girl smirked and rolled her eyes, "Ouch that hurt, Quinnie," she mocked.
The blonde felt her anger rising as she glared at the Latina. The girl had pushed her past her breaking point, and at that moment all she wanted to make the girl hurt. Make her feel a fraction of the pain Rachel was going through. So she went for the crack in Santana's armor.
"You know anyone else would say you're a bitch to Rachel because you enjoy it, but I know better." She moved closer to the brunette, her anger making her continue without stopping to consider the consequences for her words, "I think you're like that because you're jealous of her."
The Latina laughed, "What does the dwarf have that I could possibly be jealous of?"
Quinn smiled. Santana was making this too easy. "Well B seems to be paying more attention to Rachel than you lately."
Santana's eyes darkened, and before Quinn knew it, she was being slammed into the lockers, a fistful of her tank top clutched in Santana's hand.
"Don't talk to me about Britt. Got it?" She punctuated her question by shoving Quinn harder into the lockers before releasing her grip.
Quinn ignored the stinging in her back and stood her ground, not missing the flicker of pain in Santana's eyes.
"Why not? Because you know I'm actually right?"
Santana banged her fist against the locker, inches from Quinn's face, "Drop it. Now, Fabray."
The threat came out more as a plea, and Quinn was taken aback by how vulnerable she sounded. She had hit a nerve, that much was certain.
"I'll let you sort out your deal if you leave Rachel alone," she compromised, trying not to sympathize with Santana too much.
The Latina seemed to deflate in front of her, as she moved away from Quinn, her face hard, "Fine. She's your problem now, though. I'm not going down with you, and if you're smart you'll remember what I said."
Quinn stared after Santana as she headed for the exit, "You do know B's crazy about you, right?" she pushed, the guilt of what she had said earlier pushing her to try to reach out to the girl.
Santana let out a dry chuckle as she stopped with her hand on the door, "Yeah, I know. That's kind of the problem."
Before Quinn could ask what she meant, the Latina had left, the door swinging shut behind her. The blonde could have sworn she had seen a tear sliding down her cheek.
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
"That wasn't very nice of you, Quinn. You shouldn't have provoked her like that."
Quinn rolled her eyes and barely stopped herself form sighing into her phone. The moment she had gotten home, she had called Rachel to tell her what had happened, leaving out certain parts that she knew would only upset the diva.
"I know, but she was asking for it," Quinn grumbled, trying to justify her actions.
On the other end of the phone, Rachel smiled as she prepared her dinner, holding her phone in one hand and stirring her soup with the other, "Regardless, it still wasn't right. You know how sensitive she is about Brittany."
"Yeah," the cheerio admitted grudgingly, "when it comes to Brittany, she seems almost human."
Rachel laughed, catching Quinn momentarily off guard before she smiled. She loved these moments, when she could catch glimpses of the Rachel she missed. It made her feel special, knowing that she was the only one who Rachel trusted.
"I regret that I have to go, Quinn. My soup is ready, and I'm famished."
There was a silence on the other end of the line, which caused Rachel to frown, "Quinn?"
The resigned sigh on the other end of the line made Rachel smile, "Okay. Are you sure you don't want me to come over?"
"Yes, I'm sure," Rachel replied hastily, as she spooned some of her soup into a bowl. She didn't want Quinn to think she had to constantly be with her, although she wouldn't have minded if she came over.
Quinn frowned, but she decided to give the brunette her space, "Alright. Call me later if you want."
"I will. Good bye."
The cheerio pressed the end call button and tossed her cell phone on the bed beside her. Already she had resigned herself to a quiet night, since her mother wouldn't be home from work for at least another hour. That gave her a lot of time to think, which wasn't something she had wanted. She hadn't told Rachel about Santana's warning because she was afraid it would sound like she was only concerned about her popularity. In her heart, she knew she wasn't ready to lose it again, but she couldn't abandon the brunette either. She had caused enough pain in her life already, and the very last thing she wanted to do was hurt Rachel.
Quinn groaned and closed her eyes. If she lost her popularity, she wouldn't be able to protect Rachel, and if she couldn't protect Rachel...no that wasn't an option. She would be damned if she let anything happen to the singer. But why? The question was nagging at her, taunting her with it's simplicity, and yet she didn't seem any closer to an answer then when Rachel had asked. She turned her head to stare out the window, the last rays of sunlight streaming across her bed. There was something about Rachel. Quinn didn't know what, but she knew whatever it was, it was important. She continued to ponder, long after the sun had dipped below the horizon, finally moving when the sound of her mother opening the door and calling her name prompted her to go back downstairs.
Author: Kagekamay
Rating: R
Length: 2,703
Spoilers: AU after Special Education
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Rachel Berry wasn't unbreakable. Now she's broken and the only person who can put her back together is Quinn Fabray. WARNING deals with self harm
"Alright guys that's it for today. Keep working on your numbers and I'll see you tomorrow."
With that dismissal, people started drifting out the door in the usual twos and threes. Sam gave Quinn a quick glance, but she shook her head and he shrugged, choosing instead to leave with Finn. Santana and Brittany left close behind them, but not before Santana shot a parting glare in Quinn's direction. Beside her, Rachel was still slumped in her chair, just like she had been for the last hour. Her eyes had remained glued to the floor, ignoring the bickering around her about song choices and costumes. The old Rachel wouldn't have let them argue. She would have taken charge, outlining exactly what needed to be done before next week's competition. An image of the diva bouncing around enthusiastically swam before Quinn's eye before she forced it out of her mind. Thinking about how things used to be wasn't going to help right now.
"Ready to go?" Quinn asked, squeezing the brunette's hand which was still tightly clasped in hers.
Rachel nodded once and stood up, with Quinn reluctantly releasing her hand as she did so. The two of them walked to Quinn's car in silence, which was more unnerving than Quinn would have liked to admit. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she started to worry that the drive would be pretty much the same, until Rachel spoke.
"Thank you for defending me from Santana," she said quietly, her head turned away from Quinn as she stared out the window.
"Someone had to say something. She was being a complete bitch," Quinn growled, again questioning why she had ever been friends with Santana to start with. Oh yeah, popularity.
"Not entirely. She did have a right to question why I was getting off easier than the rest of you," Rachel reasoned, which made Quinn angrier. She hated that Rachel constantly made excuses for how other people treated her.
The blonde gripped the steering wheel, tighter, her voice clipped, "I wasn't going to let you strain yourself. Your leg isn't completely better yet."
Rachel shrugged noncommittally, "I could have managed, but the gesture is nice."
Quinn held back from telling Rachel that wasn't an option, reminding herself that she wouldn't take too kindly to her words. Instead, she didn't respond as she pulled into the Berry's driveway, surprised that the lights were off and no car was parked outside.
"Are your dads even home?" Quinn wondered aloud.
Rachel shook her head, opening the car door to leave, "They're working late today."
As Rachel started to get out, Quinn reached over and grabbed her shoulder,"Wait." Rachel looked at her questioningly, "How long are you going to be alone?"
"As long as it takes them to come home?" Quinn gave her look and she sighed, "Until eleven most likely."
Quinn chewed on her lip, looking at the brunette contemplatively, "Maybe I should come back after cheerios practice."
"I assure you, Quinn, that won't be necessary. I'll be fine," Rachel replied as she stepped out of the car.
"Wait!" Quinn called again, forcing Rachel to stop in the act of closing the door with her eyebrows raised.
"If I can't come over, can I at least call you after practice?" Quinn asked nervously, hoping Rachel wouldn't think she was being overly protective.
Rachel regarded Quinn for a moment, who fidgeted in her seat, "I see nothing wrong with that."
A huge grin started to form on the cheerleader's face as Rachel closed the door and walked up to her house. Quinn idled in the driveway until she saw Rachel was safely inside before driving back to school, feeling as if nothing could dampen her mood.
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
"Sloppy babies! You call that a pyramid? It's disgraceful! Hit the showers, I'm tired of dealing with such pathetic excuses for cheerleaders!"
Groaning from exhaustion, the cheerios started filing off to the locker room, led by Quinn who was trying not to show how bone tired she was. Coach Sylvester had taken it upon herself to drive the cheerios harder than ever to prepare for Regionals, and Quinn was starting to wonder if the pressure for a seventh National win had finally cracked her. The air condition hit her full force as the locker room door swung open and she sighed in happiness, heading to her locker to grab a spare change of clothes.
Most of the other cheerios were too tired to change, choosing to grab their bags and limp out of the room to get away from Sue as soon as they possibly could. She couldn't fault them for it, since Sue had been known to barge into the locker room and demand they fit in another hour or so of practice regardless of how tired they felt. Her muscles ached in protest as she proceeded to change, trading in her uniform for a grey tank top and running shorts. She took the time to fix her ponytail, gathering the loose strands that had been shaken loose during practice, before throwing her dirty uniform in her bag.
"Hey, Q!"
Quinn tensed, her bag strap falling from her hand as she straightened up and turned to find Santana leaning against the lockers behind her.
"We need to talk."
"About what?" Quinn asked, feigning disinterest as she regarded the girl coolly, "Is this about how you almost caused the pyramid to collapse?"
Santana gritted her teeth, but didn't retaliate, which intrigued Quinn even more. Whatever it was, it must be important.
"No. It's about Berry."
Quinn's eyes narrowed, and she didn't bother keeping the ice out of her voice, "Unless you're about to apologize for being a complete bitch to her, I'm not interested."
"What's your deal?" Santana pressed, pushing off the lockers, "Since when do you defend her? Hell, since when are you friends?"
"That's none of your concern," Quinn growled, "All you need to know is that Rachel and I came to an understanding."
Santana snorted disbelievingly, "That's bullshit."
"Believe what you want," Quinn shrugged, adopting her head bitch glare, "- But Rachel and I are friends, S. You mess with her, and you mess with me."
To her fury, Santana burst out laughing, "Is that your attempt at trying to intimidate me? Because honestly, it's kind of pathetic."
"Listen Lopez - "
"No you listen," Santana commanded, "This little friendship thing you have going on with Berry needs to end. People are talking, Q , and just because you're Head Cheerio doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."
"Newsflash, San, that's exactly what it means," Quinn shot back.
Santana rolled her eyes, "Yeah, if people are afraid you. But let's face it, you're not the cold-hearted bitch you used to be. You're not going to order random slushy attacks to keep people in check, you're just going to rely on your rep to do it for you."
Quinn scoffed at the Latina's words, but internally she was a little surprised the girl had picked up on that. She turned around and shouldered her bag, "Well thanks for the advice or whatever, but I'm not leaving Rachel anytime soon."
She walked past her to leave the locker room, thinking the conversation was over.
"Why not?" Santana called after her exasperatedly, "Why do you care so fucking much about her?"
The blonde paused and turned back around, looking the brunette straight in the eye, "Someone has to. I can't just sit by and watch her fade a little every day."
"Berry's a big girl, I'm sure she can handle whatever shit she has going on," Santana dismissed.
Quinn only vaguely registered her bag falling to the ground as she sent Santana sprawling back into the lockers with a shove, "You just don't get it, do you?"
Santana cursed and rubbed at her shoulder, "What the fuck Tubbers?"
Quinn didn't hear her. She was rooted in place, feeling all the helplessness and worry that had been accumulating come roaring to the surface.
"Rachel can't handle anything right now and you - " she pointed accusingly at Santana, " - you just have to make everything worse. Every time she seems like she seems to be getting back to normal, you go and ruin it."
"It's not my fault she can't take a couple insults," Santana insisted, taking a few of steps towards Quinn, "she needs to learn to toughen up."
"Toughen up?" Quinn repeated incredulously, "She's had plenty of time to do that thanks to us! All we ever did was insult her. We never even gave her chance," her voice cracked as she slumped back against the locker.
Santana looked unphased by her outburst, "She's Berry, of course we didn't give her a chance. We were popular, she wasn't, it's that simple."
"Well I'm sorry that I feel guilty for being a bitch," Quinn snapped, her hands curling into fists by her side, "Not all of us can be like you."
The girl smirked and rolled her eyes, "Ouch that hurt, Quinnie," she mocked.
The blonde felt her anger rising as she glared at the Latina. The girl had pushed her past her breaking point, and at that moment all she wanted to make the girl hurt. Make her feel a fraction of the pain Rachel was going through. So she went for the crack in Santana's armor.
"You know anyone else would say you're a bitch to Rachel because you enjoy it, but I know better." She moved closer to the brunette, her anger making her continue without stopping to consider the consequences for her words, "I think you're like that because you're jealous of her."
The Latina laughed, "What does the dwarf have that I could possibly be jealous of?"
Quinn smiled. Santana was making this too easy. "Well B seems to be paying more attention to Rachel than you lately."
Santana's eyes darkened, and before Quinn knew it, she was being slammed into the lockers, a fistful of her tank top clutched in Santana's hand.
"Don't talk to me about Britt. Got it?" She punctuated her question by shoving Quinn harder into the lockers before releasing her grip.
Quinn ignored the stinging in her back and stood her ground, not missing the flicker of pain in Santana's eyes.
"Why not? Because you know I'm actually right?"
Santana banged her fist against the locker, inches from Quinn's face, "Drop it. Now, Fabray."
The threat came out more as a plea, and Quinn was taken aback by how vulnerable she sounded. She had hit a nerve, that much was certain.
"I'll let you sort out your deal if you leave Rachel alone," she compromised, trying not to sympathize with Santana too much.
The Latina seemed to deflate in front of her, as she moved away from Quinn, her face hard, "Fine. She's your problem now, though. I'm not going down with you, and if you're smart you'll remember what I said."
Quinn stared after Santana as she headed for the exit, "You do know B's crazy about you, right?" she pushed, the guilt of what she had said earlier pushing her to try to reach out to the girl.
Santana let out a dry chuckle as she stopped with her hand on the door, "Yeah, I know. That's kind of the problem."
Before Quinn could ask what she meant, the Latina had left, the door swinging shut behind her. The blonde could have sworn she had seen a tear sliding down her cheek.
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
"That wasn't very nice of you, Quinn. You shouldn't have provoked her like that."
Quinn rolled her eyes and barely stopped herself form sighing into her phone. The moment she had gotten home, she had called Rachel to tell her what had happened, leaving out certain parts that she knew would only upset the diva.
"I know, but she was asking for it," Quinn grumbled, trying to justify her actions.
On the other end of the phone, Rachel smiled as she prepared her dinner, holding her phone in one hand and stirring her soup with the other, "Regardless, it still wasn't right. You know how sensitive she is about Brittany."
"Yeah," the cheerio admitted grudgingly, "when it comes to Brittany, she seems almost human."
Rachel laughed, catching Quinn momentarily off guard before she smiled. She loved these moments, when she could catch glimpses of the Rachel she missed. It made her feel special, knowing that she was the only one who Rachel trusted.
"I regret that I have to go, Quinn. My soup is ready, and I'm famished."
There was a silence on the other end of the line, which caused Rachel to frown, "Quinn?"
The resigned sigh on the other end of the line made Rachel smile, "Okay. Are you sure you don't want me to come over?"
"Yes, I'm sure," Rachel replied hastily, as she spooned some of her soup into a bowl. She didn't want Quinn to think she had to constantly be with her, although she wouldn't have minded if she came over.
Quinn frowned, but she decided to give the brunette her space, "Alright. Call me later if you want."
"I will. Good bye."
The cheerio pressed the end call button and tossed her cell phone on the bed beside her. Already she had resigned herself to a quiet night, since her mother wouldn't be home from work for at least another hour. That gave her a lot of time to think, which wasn't something she had wanted. She hadn't told Rachel about Santana's warning because she was afraid it would sound like she was only concerned about her popularity. In her heart, she knew she wasn't ready to lose it again, but she couldn't abandon the brunette either. She had caused enough pain in her life already, and the very last thing she wanted to do was hurt Rachel.
Quinn groaned and closed her eyes. If she lost her popularity, she wouldn't be able to protect Rachel, and if she couldn't protect Rachel...no that wasn't an option. She would be damned if she let anything happen to the singer. But why? The question was nagging at her, taunting her with it's simplicity, and yet she didn't seem any closer to an answer then when Rachel had asked. She turned her head to stare out the window, the last rays of sunlight streaming across her bed. There was something about Rachel. Quinn didn't know what, but she knew whatever it was, it was important. She continued to ponder, long after the sun had dipped below the horizon, finally moving when the sound of her mother opening the door and calling her name prompted her to go back downstairs.