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[personal profile] olaf47
Title: every fairy tale had a bloody lining (every one had teeth and claws)
Fandom: Glee
Characters/Pairing: Rachel Berry, Quinn Fabray, Brittany Pierce, Santana Lopez, Rachel/Quinn
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: Post-On My Way
Summary: Rachel’s dads tried to take her home, but she wouldn’t go. They tried to take her keys, but she wouldn’t give them up. She sat in her car in the parking lot, thinking about Quinn and love.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. The words are.

“Why do you want to get your marriage annulled?”

“Because the person I want to be with got into a car accident on the way to the wedding.”

“The person you want to be with is not your husband?”

She shakes her head.

“And you only just figured this out.”

She nods, ignoring the tone.

“How old are you?”

The woman’s voice is so unkind now, and Rachel just wants to be at the hospital, even if Quinn won’t wake up for hours—or ever. She swallows.

“I’m 18 and an idiot and could we just finish up here so I can get back to her bedside?”

“You’re leaving your husband for a girl?”

Woman, Rachel immediately thinks. Because she is. This beautiful young woman who’s going to Yale, except she is bloodied and bruised and broken and maybe she’ll never wake up, maybe she’ll never go to Yale, maybe she’s flat lining right now.

Yes. Now give me the goddamn paperwork.”


She does not speed on the way back to the hospital.

She puts her phone on silent and locks it in the glove compartment and goes exactly the speed limit.

She tells herself Quinn will still be there when she arrives.

She is. She’s there, mostly white gauze and tubes everywhere and the slow, constant beeping of her heart monitor. Rachel thinks her heart has maybe synced with it, but the Quinn in her head rolls her eyes at that. (She has to keep a Quinn in her head, because she has to remember something other than this body in a hospital bed. She has to remember more than just a body pressed against her when they hugged. She has to remember Quinn laughing, and Quinn crying, and Quinn growing up so much, so much more than any of them these past few years. She has to remember Quinn when she was vibrant. She has to believe she’ll be vibrant again.)

Judy Fabray hasn’t said anything to Rachel. Rachel’s not offended. What are they supposed to say?

It was a nurse who said something when everyone else had gone home after, Rachel can’t quite remember, but she thinks it was hour six of a surgery that made it to double digits. Everyone else had drifted out, slowly, even the ones who had found out later, had come in later, the Cheerios and kids who might not even go to McKinley—Rachel didn’t know if she didn’t recognize them or if she just wouldn’t recognize anyone right now. And sometime around when the sky was tipping from its darkest black to that moment when it begins to lighten, it was just Santana and Brittany and Rachel and Judy. Rachel’s dads were somewhere, she thinks, hovering, maybe. The nurse was gentle when she told the girls to go home, when she said that there was nothing they could do here, and maybe they should go home and change and get some sleep.

They were still in their dresses. Rachel was still in her wedding dress. Her throat had closed then, suddenly constricted and she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see through the tears. Someone had both of her hands in theirs, but she didn’t know who, didn’t know if the nurse was still around.

“I shouldn’t have—I—I—I got married today. And I was texting her because I wanted her to be there, I needed her to be there, and this is my fault, this is my fault that she wasn’t paying attention and that she was rushing and that she was on that road at that time and she missed the stop sign. And I shouldn’t have gotten married. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have. I ruined everything.”

She doesn’t remember how they calmed her down. She remembers that both Santana and Brittany had her hands, it turned out, one for each girl. She remembers Brittany murmuring to her in Spanish, quiet, gentle things, but more complicated than she understood and she remembers thinking, but you’re not any good in Spanish class. She might have killed Quinn Fabray, and she was regretting what should have been one of the happiest moments of her life, and she was thinking about Brittany in Spanish class. She remembers the Quinn in her head had laughed.

Judy didn’t say anything then and she doesn’t say anything now, as Rachel slips back into Quinn’s hospital room.

She’s not wearing her dress anymore. Once Quinn was finally out of surgery, once they could finally see her, Rachel fell asleep at her bedside. They all did, actually. Judy on one side, holding one hand, and Rachel, Santana, and Brittany crowded on the other—the latter two sharing a chair because there were only three in the room—fifteen fingers overlapping over Quinn’s other hand.

When Rachel woke up, Santana was gone and Brittany was in sweats and a t-shirt.

“My mom brought clothes,” she said, quiet so she wouldn’t wake Judy. “Santana’s changing. There’s some for you, too.”

Glee club had brought them all closer, and she and Santana had even become rather close lately, but Brittany had always been an enigma. There was something about the way her mom had brought Rachel clothes, though. Something that almost made Rachel cry. It didn’t matter that she didn’t understand what Brittany was talking about half the time, or that Brittany had just never showed much interest in Rachel as a person. They may have been vaguely connected before, but now there was an unspoken acceptance. They all loved Quinn, and nothing else mattered.

That thought rocked Rachel so much she had to steady herself against the bathroom counter as she changed.

She loved Quinn.

She loved Quinn.

She loved Quinn and she didn’t even fucking realize it until there was a truck and a stop sign and—and—and—

Santana came into the bathroom then, caught Rachel as she collapsed. Rachel didn’t know how she knew she needed her until she realized the wracking sobs were coming from her. Santana caught her and held her and let her cry. And then she stood her back on her feet, took the Cheerios t-shirt from where it was still clenched in Rachel’s fist, and pulled it over her head instead.

“C’mon,” she said. “We gotta eat something.”


She doesn’t know where Santana and Brittany are now. The doctors had eventually made them all leave. There was kicking and screaming and Rachel probably knows curse words in Spanish now, but they all did finally leave.

Rachel’s dads tried to take her home, but she wouldn’t go. They tried to take her keys, but she wouldn’t give them up. She sat in her car in the parking lot, thinking about Quinn and love. Then she thought of Artie. She thought of paralysis. She thought of singing that song to Finn and how inappropriate that line was and she started her car.

Her fathers followed her to City Hall. She knows because even though she hadn’t thought straight in eighteen hours, she didn’t miss a thing while she was driving. Their silver Prius was right there behind her the whole time.

She went to City Hall and she talked to the horrible woman and she got the paperwork. Finn had left the hospital after hour five, she thinks. He’d held her hand the entire time and she didn’t notice when he let go.

She didn’t think to sneak back into Quinn’s hospital room, but no one stops her. Judy barely looks up when she comes back in.

Rachel pulls a chair close to the bed again, touches Quinn’s hand like she might not actually be there, might only be a figment of her imagination.

“I’m getting it annulled,” she murmurs, to Quinn, not to Judy.

She just thought Quinn might want to know. She only just figured out how she feels, doesn’t really understand it yet, doesn’t really understand how she didn’t know before, with all the effort she put into making Quinn happy, making her feel accepted and loved. She only just figured all of it out, but maybe Quinn knew. Maybe Quinn loved her, too. Maybe that’s why she didn’t want her to marry Finn. Maybe knowing that she’s annulling it will somehow make Quinn better.

The Quinn in her head just stares at her, doesn’t have to say anything for Rachel to know that she’s being ridiculous, that she’s being a teenager in love and making up fairytales and goddammit if that’s not just what she’s done with Finn. She loves Finn, she does, absolutely, but to think they could get married at 18 and live happily ever after—even while Rachel wants to go to New York and Finn doesn’t know what he wants—it’s a fairytale. A Happily Ever After that she’s not going to get because it isn’t real.

Maybe there’s no such thing as a happy ending.

Even if that’s true, it doesn’t seem fair, that she and Quinn might never even get a beginning.

The annulment papers are in her purse and she holds Quinn’s hand in hers and wishes for nothing more than the chance to have their own Once Upon a Time.

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January 2013

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