Day of Silence (1/1)
Title: Day of Silence
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1000+
Spoilers: Up to Special Education
Summary: Rachel takes a vow of Silence
Pairings: None. Aka no Faberry. Let that be a warning to you.
Rachel Berry has two gay dads. This is common knowledge, since she flaunts it and the ACLU whenever she can. Finn complains about how she talks about that enough to Sam that the blonde guy thinks he gets it. No, seriously, he gets it. “It’s not like I have anything against her having gay dads or anything,” Finn would say, “It’s just... could she stop talking about them sometimes?”
Sam doesn’t understand why she has to, since it seems like she loves them. When Finn and Rachel break up and Finn stops complaining about girls not putting out and some of Rachel’s other idiosyncrasies, he’s kind of relieved. Sure, every once in a while, Finn complains about something to do with either Puck or Rachel never shutting up, but that’s normal, right? The guy’s obviously hung up on it, after all.
And it’s not like Rachel’s inconspicuous or anything. She’s clearly not cut from the cloth ninjas are cut from, that’s for sure. So Finn sees her every day (as does Sam), and so Sam always gets to look forward to a quick griping about Finn’s diva of an ex.
So when Finn comes up to him in after first period, talking about how Rachel’s trying to get attention again, and she’s duct taped her mouth for some reason or other, Sam doesn’t really pay attention. He just goes through the motions of bro-dom, and agrees with how that obviously sucks, and Rachel obviously sucks and is an attention seeking whore.
When Sam brings up Rachel and her duct tape with Quinn while ditching in second, talking about how Rachel’s so shallow, because it’s not all about solos or whatever, Quinn chuckles. “It’s that time again, isn’t it?” She pulls out her cell phone, ignoring the fact that Sam really just wants to get his mack on, and calls Santana. “Manhands is on the down low today.... Yeah. Yup. Duct tape and everything. Yeah... same as every year. Cool.” She hangs up and smiles sweetly at Sam before removing his hand from her back. “I have to go, okay, sweetie?” With a swift peck on the cheek, she walks away, leaving Sam bewildered.
He sees Rachel between second and third, duct tape still firmly taped over her mouth, as she careens into the bathroom door, clothes drenched in slushy. Something is written on her cheek, but he can’t make it out all that well, because it’s running and distorted from the liquid sugar dripping down her face. He shivers, because her eyes had been ice cold and furious as opposed to how typically emotive they are. But it’s not his problem, so he keeps going. It’s not like Rachel getting slushied isn’t a regular occurrence at McKinley anyway.
In History class, Mr. Bronson is teaching, and Sam notices Rachel’s hand is strangely absent from in front of him throughout the whole lesson. Usually Rachel answered all the questions, but this time she hasn’t said anything. “Sam. Sam Evans?” Sam snaps out of his daydreaming, and fumbles his way through a question on Pearl Harbor, and Bronson shrugs.
“Rachel Berry, do you have anything to add on that point?” Rachel doesn’t even look up to acknowledge the teacher. Sam can see her hair’s still slightly damp, and she has different clothes on from before. “Rachel, do you want to lose marks on class participation?” There’s a slight head shake, but she stays silent. “Well, if you don’t take that ridiculous duct tape off your face and say something, you’re going to.” The class laughs, and Rachel’s back straightens. She doesn’t take off the tape. Mr. Bronson gives up after a while, but he’s sneering like the rest of the class is.
The next class Sam has with Rachel is just like history. Rachel’s late, her clothes are different again, and her eyes are turning stony. She doesn’t respond to the teacher, nor does she even attempt to respond to anything anyone says. Miss Green sends Rachel to the office when she refuses to read the next paragraph, for insubordination or something. Rachel doesn’t even argue, just getting up and collecting her things. As she walks down the aisle, she trips on Karofsky’s foot and lands with a crash on the floor. Sam sees him kick her in the stomach, and the muffled groan is hidden by the laughter of the class. Rachel clutches at her stomach as she glares at the burly jock before fleeing the room.
Sam doesn’t really get it, because it’s going a little far, so after class, he stops Karofsky by grabbing his arm before he leaves the room. “What the hell, man! Hitting girls?”
“You sure she’s even a girl? Your girlfriend seems so sure she’s an it.” Karofsky wrenches his arm free. “Besides, she’s doing that stupid silence for fags thing again this year. She should expect this by now.” Sam’s so shocked he lets the guy go.
At lunch, he sits next to Quinn and her salad. Usually Rachel’s sitting in the same corner when he sits down, speed-eating so that she can get some practice in. Her spot is covered in garbage and food, and Sam just doesn’t understand what’s going on anymore. He decides, because evidently Quinn’s in on it, to ask his girlfriend what exactly’s going on.
“It’s a Rachel free-for-all today,” she says with a shrug. “Every year, since middle school, to show her... support and acceptance for that horridly unnatural lifestyle her sin-ridden excuses for parents live, she duct tapes her mouth closed for the day. So we do whatever we want to her.” She smiles serenely at him, and, not for the first time, Sam’s a little scared of his girlfriend. “Do you have a problem with it, Sam? Because if you do, I’m not sure I can be seen eating lunch with you.”
Sam swallows, but tells her he doesn’t have a problem with it, because even if he had gay friends in his old school, he’s still the new kid, and he has his fledgling reputation to protect. Rachel’s evidently used to this, so he’s sure she can deal. At least, he hopes so.
When he sits in the seat next to the one Kurt used to occupy in French, the one that’s been empty since the kid transferred to that boy’s school, Dart-on or something, he can’t help but think that maybe Rachel had an ally last year. Maybe. Maybe Kurt stood up for her... maybe Mercedes, this year, is silently cheering her on... Except he’s sure he saw the girl laughing the last time he saw Rachel rush away from the umpteenth slushy to the face earlier.
Has Rachel always been alone like this? He can’t help but feel sorry for the girl. But if she had a problem with it, wouldn’t she have stopped this madness years ago? It’s her problem, isn’t it? He doesn’t have to get involved at all...
Except, the next time he sees her, it’s not slushy in her hair, or colored ice soaking through her shirt. This time, it’s too far, and there’s muffled sobs, and she’s in the risers during gym class, covered in porta-potty filth. He hesitates, looking around before loping over to ask her if she’s okay. When she looks at him, with her watery eyes full of sadness, he swears he can see her battered resolve on its last legs, and it pulls at his heart. But then she looks down, and his friends are calling him away.
He wonders when he became such a coward, but doesn’t look back at her as he goes to join them.
He’s in math when he gets a text message from Rachel. He scowls at his phone, because she says that she’s used to it, and that she’s fine, really.
Before he can think about what he’s doing, he’s firing off a message asking her why she puts up with what she does, day after day, year after year.
My dads made me who I am, and they taught me to be who I am. I’m not going to stop just because some small-minded people won’t accept that.
He doesn’t understand.
I don’t expect you to. But I want to show people how proud I am that they’re my dads. They’ve done so much for me, and this is the least I could do, really...
He thinks she’s brave, and tells her so. He wishes he could do something to help. However, her response to this is discomforting, and he’s not sure how he feels about this whole fiasco anymore.
Don’t do anything on account of me, Sam. I wouldn’t want you to go through this too. It’ll all be back to normal tomorrow anyway.
And then it’s time for Glee, but Sam’s almost as late as Mr. Schue, having been kept behind by his last period teacher for texting in class. Why teachers notice his texting, but not the regular mistreatment of one of their students boggles his mind, and he’s not exactly sure he can let this go.
When he gets to Glee, he hesitates at the door. He just... looks, and he doesn’t like what he sees. He looks at the empty seat Quinn’s saved him, then over at the seats surrounding Rachel, all depressingly empty. Rachel, in her... probably eleventh outfit of the day, still with some scum in her hair, and her skin stained remarkably unnatural colours. Rachel with the silver strip of tape on her face and the smudged and faded “NO H8” on her cheeks. He thinks back to when he was the social outcast, and while he didn’t have all the goals or drive Rachel does, he was proud of who he was. At least, he thought he was. He laments over how he’s traded in everything that made him Sam-I-am-I-don’t-like-green-eggs-and-ham, all in the name of popularity.
Absently, he hears Mr. Schue walk in, all smiles and happiness, and knows he has to take a seat.
And, for once, he lets his heart decide.
Fin
A/N: I've actually been writing this since January, to be honest. I almost dropped it, because I hated what I was doing to Rachel. I finished it on the Day of Silence (April 15th), but I was away and unable to post it due to lack of internet. Congrats to the people who took part this year, you all have my respect.
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1000+
Spoilers: Up to Special Education
Summary: Rachel takes a vow of Silence
Pairings: None. Aka no Faberry. Let that be a warning to you.
Rachel Berry has two gay dads. This is common knowledge, since she flaunts it and the ACLU whenever she can. Finn complains about how she talks about that enough to Sam that the blonde guy thinks he gets it. No, seriously, he gets it. “It’s not like I have anything against her having gay dads or anything,” Finn would say, “It’s just... could she stop talking about them sometimes?”
Sam doesn’t understand why she has to, since it seems like she loves them. When Finn and Rachel break up and Finn stops complaining about girls not putting out and some of Rachel’s other idiosyncrasies, he’s kind of relieved. Sure, every once in a while, Finn complains about something to do with either Puck or Rachel never shutting up, but that’s normal, right? The guy’s obviously hung up on it, after all.
And it’s not like Rachel’s inconspicuous or anything. She’s clearly not cut from the cloth ninjas are cut from, that’s for sure. So Finn sees her every day (as does Sam), and so Sam always gets to look forward to a quick griping about Finn’s diva of an ex.
So when Finn comes up to him in after first period, talking about how Rachel’s trying to get attention again, and she’s duct taped her mouth for some reason or other, Sam doesn’t really pay attention. He just goes through the motions of bro-dom, and agrees with how that obviously sucks, and Rachel obviously sucks and is an attention seeking whore.
When Sam brings up Rachel and her duct tape with Quinn while ditching in second, talking about how Rachel’s so shallow, because it’s not all about solos or whatever, Quinn chuckles. “It’s that time again, isn’t it?” She pulls out her cell phone, ignoring the fact that Sam really just wants to get his mack on, and calls Santana. “Manhands is on the down low today.... Yeah. Yup. Duct tape and everything. Yeah... same as every year. Cool.” She hangs up and smiles sweetly at Sam before removing his hand from her back. “I have to go, okay, sweetie?” With a swift peck on the cheek, she walks away, leaving Sam bewildered.
He sees Rachel between second and third, duct tape still firmly taped over her mouth, as she careens into the bathroom door, clothes drenched in slushy. Something is written on her cheek, but he can’t make it out all that well, because it’s running and distorted from the liquid sugar dripping down her face. He shivers, because her eyes had been ice cold and furious as opposed to how typically emotive they are. But it’s not his problem, so he keeps going. It’s not like Rachel getting slushied isn’t a regular occurrence at McKinley anyway.
In History class, Mr. Bronson is teaching, and Sam notices Rachel’s hand is strangely absent from in front of him throughout the whole lesson. Usually Rachel answered all the questions, but this time she hasn’t said anything. “Sam. Sam Evans?” Sam snaps out of his daydreaming, and fumbles his way through a question on Pearl Harbor, and Bronson shrugs.
“Rachel Berry, do you have anything to add on that point?” Rachel doesn’t even look up to acknowledge the teacher. Sam can see her hair’s still slightly damp, and she has different clothes on from before. “Rachel, do you want to lose marks on class participation?” There’s a slight head shake, but she stays silent. “Well, if you don’t take that ridiculous duct tape off your face and say something, you’re going to.” The class laughs, and Rachel’s back straightens. She doesn’t take off the tape. Mr. Bronson gives up after a while, but he’s sneering like the rest of the class is.
The next class Sam has with Rachel is just like history. Rachel’s late, her clothes are different again, and her eyes are turning stony. She doesn’t respond to the teacher, nor does she even attempt to respond to anything anyone says. Miss Green sends Rachel to the office when she refuses to read the next paragraph, for insubordination or something. Rachel doesn’t even argue, just getting up and collecting her things. As she walks down the aisle, she trips on Karofsky’s foot and lands with a crash on the floor. Sam sees him kick her in the stomach, and the muffled groan is hidden by the laughter of the class. Rachel clutches at her stomach as she glares at the burly jock before fleeing the room.
Sam doesn’t really get it, because it’s going a little far, so after class, he stops Karofsky by grabbing his arm before he leaves the room. “What the hell, man! Hitting girls?”
“You sure she’s even a girl? Your girlfriend seems so sure she’s an it.” Karofsky wrenches his arm free. “Besides, she’s doing that stupid silence for fags thing again this year. She should expect this by now.” Sam’s so shocked he lets the guy go.
At lunch, he sits next to Quinn and her salad. Usually Rachel’s sitting in the same corner when he sits down, speed-eating so that she can get some practice in. Her spot is covered in garbage and food, and Sam just doesn’t understand what’s going on anymore. He decides, because evidently Quinn’s in on it, to ask his girlfriend what exactly’s going on.
“It’s a Rachel free-for-all today,” she says with a shrug. “Every year, since middle school, to show her... support and acceptance for that horridly unnatural lifestyle her sin-ridden excuses for parents live, she duct tapes her mouth closed for the day. So we do whatever we want to her.” She smiles serenely at him, and, not for the first time, Sam’s a little scared of his girlfriend. “Do you have a problem with it, Sam? Because if you do, I’m not sure I can be seen eating lunch with you.”
Sam swallows, but tells her he doesn’t have a problem with it, because even if he had gay friends in his old school, he’s still the new kid, and he has his fledgling reputation to protect. Rachel’s evidently used to this, so he’s sure she can deal. At least, he hopes so.
When he sits in the seat next to the one Kurt used to occupy in French, the one that’s been empty since the kid transferred to that boy’s school, Dart-on or something, he can’t help but think that maybe Rachel had an ally last year. Maybe. Maybe Kurt stood up for her... maybe Mercedes, this year, is silently cheering her on... Except he’s sure he saw the girl laughing the last time he saw Rachel rush away from the umpteenth slushy to the face earlier.
Has Rachel always been alone like this? He can’t help but feel sorry for the girl. But if she had a problem with it, wouldn’t she have stopped this madness years ago? It’s her problem, isn’t it? He doesn’t have to get involved at all...
Except, the next time he sees her, it’s not slushy in her hair, or colored ice soaking through her shirt. This time, it’s too far, and there’s muffled sobs, and she’s in the risers during gym class, covered in porta-potty filth. He hesitates, looking around before loping over to ask her if she’s okay. When she looks at him, with her watery eyes full of sadness, he swears he can see her battered resolve on its last legs, and it pulls at his heart. But then she looks down, and his friends are calling him away.
He wonders when he became such a coward, but doesn’t look back at her as he goes to join them.
He’s in math when he gets a text message from Rachel. He scowls at his phone, because she says that she’s used to it, and that she’s fine, really.
Before he can think about what he’s doing, he’s firing off a message asking her why she puts up with what she does, day after day, year after year.
My dads made me who I am, and they taught me to be who I am. I’m not going to stop just because some small-minded people won’t accept that.
He doesn’t understand.
I don’t expect you to. But I want to show people how proud I am that they’re my dads. They’ve done so much for me, and this is the least I could do, really...
He thinks she’s brave, and tells her so. He wishes he could do something to help. However, her response to this is discomforting, and he’s not sure how he feels about this whole fiasco anymore.
Don’t do anything on account of me, Sam. I wouldn’t want you to go through this too. It’ll all be back to normal tomorrow anyway.
And then it’s time for Glee, but Sam’s almost as late as Mr. Schue, having been kept behind by his last period teacher for texting in class. Why teachers notice his texting, but not the regular mistreatment of one of their students boggles his mind, and he’s not exactly sure he can let this go.
When he gets to Glee, he hesitates at the door. He just... looks, and he doesn’t like what he sees. He looks at the empty seat Quinn’s saved him, then over at the seats surrounding Rachel, all depressingly empty. Rachel, in her... probably eleventh outfit of the day, still with some scum in her hair, and her skin stained remarkably unnatural colours. Rachel with the silver strip of tape on her face and the smudged and faded “NO H8” on her cheeks. He thinks back to when he was the social outcast, and while he didn’t have all the goals or drive Rachel does, he was proud of who he was. At least, he thought he was. He laments over how he’s traded in everything that made him Sam-I-am-I-don’t-like-green-eggs-and-ham, all in the name of popularity.
Absently, he hears Mr. Schue walk in, all smiles and happiness, and knows he has to take a seat.
And, for once, he lets his heart decide.
Fin
A/N: I've actually been writing this since January, to be honest. I almost dropped it, because I hated what I was doing to Rachel. I finished it on the Day of Silence (April 15th), but I was away and unable to post it due to lack of internet. Congrats to the people who took part this year, you all have my respect.