I Still Run (Rachel/Quinn)
Name: I Still Run
Rating: PG
Length: 240
Summary: It was just an accident.
A/N: A, I'm really sorry. B, I wrote a drabble! Yay. C, I'm sorry still. Also, if you really want to enhance the listening experience, listen to the Glee mashup of One Less Bell to Answer/A House is Not a Home.
It wasn’t anything other than an accident.
It was just an accident, a slick patch of ice on a cold November night and a skidding wheel and her wife on the ground. It was nothing but the earth turning on without it’s brightest spot, without Rachel’s everything.
It was her everything condensing to nothing as the life left her wife's eyes, while Rachel sat at home and wondered what was taking her so long.
Everything about them had been an accident - Quinn had revealed her feelings in the middle of an angry yelling match, Rachel had proposed in frustration at Quinn’s constant suitors chasing after her. And they ended with an accident.
Hearing the NYPD officer on the other end, informing her in a clipped tone that betrayed nothing much beyond business as usual that her wife had died on the corner of 64th and 3rd, was the strangest moment of her entire life. Everything shifted out of focus - the dinner laid out in front of her and the doctor’s note folded up on what was supposed to be her wife’s plate, and the nerves in her hands went numb as they scrabbled to grasp the tablecloth. She couldn’t hear the officer as he explained what had occurred.
It was an accident. It was just an accident.
And now, she was alone, with a bottle of sparkling grape juice and an empty house that had once been in a home.
Rating: PG
Length: 240
Summary: It was just an accident.
A/N: A, I'm really sorry. B, I wrote a drabble! Yay. C, I'm sorry still. Also, if you really want to enhance the listening experience, listen to the Glee mashup of One Less Bell to Answer/A House is Not a Home.
It wasn’t anything other than an accident.
It was just an accident, a slick patch of ice on a cold November night and a skidding wheel and her wife on the ground. It was nothing but the earth turning on without it’s brightest spot, without Rachel’s everything.
It was her everything condensing to nothing as the life left her wife's eyes, while Rachel sat at home and wondered what was taking her so long.
Everything about them had been an accident - Quinn had revealed her feelings in the middle of an angry yelling match, Rachel had proposed in frustration at Quinn’s constant suitors chasing after her. And they ended with an accident.
Hearing the NYPD officer on the other end, informing her in a clipped tone that betrayed nothing much beyond business as usual that her wife had died on the corner of 64th and 3rd, was the strangest moment of her entire life. Everything shifted out of focus - the dinner laid out in front of her and the doctor’s note folded up on what was supposed to be her wife’s plate, and the nerves in her hands went numb as they scrabbled to grasp the tablecloth. She couldn’t hear the officer as he explained what had occurred.
It was an accident. It was just an accident.
And now, she was alone, with a bottle of sparkling grape juice and an empty house that had once been in a home.