Title: They Had to Scrape Me Off the Floor

Pairing: Rachel/Quinn

Synopsis: A late night knock at the door.

Author's Note: I'm trying to force myself back into the discipline I once had, where, even if it was just fanfiction, I wrote something at least a few times a month despite my ongoing issues with depression. And as I've already covered my other stories for this month, I wanted to write a three part one-shot for my Faberry readers, since they're by far the longest and most loyal readers I've had on Tumblr and FFnet. So here you go. Lyrics by The Weepies, from their song, "Stars." Also, just so my Faberrians know, I haven't killed any of my Faberry WIPs. I just don't currently have a lot of time or access to a computer the way I used to. They'll all be finished.

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1. Plying Heavy Oars

Tangerines are hanging heavy, glowing marigolden hues

Teasing a half-pale moon

And I feel a pull to the blue-velvet dark and stars.

Knocks on the door. It wasn't frequently that Rachel Berry had visitors, mostly because despite her success as a vocalist in Glee club, she still didn't have a typical booming social life or anything. That's why it was so odd to hear frantic knocking at the front door, particularly considering that it was 1:34 in the morning and her fathers were dead asleep. She'd watched too many horror movies obviously because she found herself a little afraid to answer the door.

Downstairs, there was more frantic knocking and her fathers' bedroom door clicked open. Padding footsteps retreated away from Rachel's range of hearing; she slipped out of bed and headed down the stairs, rubbing sleep from her eyes, sleep-swollen lips poking out a little in confusion as she squinted around the corner.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Berry," there was a sort of breaking sob. "I know it's late."

"It's very late, young lady," Leroy hummed with disapproval, "Is there something we can help you with?"

"Honey? Who's at the door?" Hiram called down the hallway.

"It's - I'm - god, I shouldn't even be here."

"You're not going to knock on the door this early in the morning and then change your mind," Leroy grumbled, glancing behind him and catching Rachel's gaze. In the process he stepped away from the door and motioned to a familiar, but shadowed figure. "Rachel, I believe this is a friend of yours?"

No, no, they had certainly never considered themselves friends.

Quinn was standing in the doorway, arms folded around herself tightly, looking disheveled and tired.

"What - why are you here?" Rachel moved to the doorway, giving her father an apologetic glance before moving to the doorframe, closer to Quinn, speaking more quietly. "Why are you here at 1:30 in the morning? Why are you here at all?"

Hesitation seemed to be causing Quinn to clam up. She kept opening her mouth as if to speak and pulling at her hair just a little bit. "I didn't know where else to go - who to go to -" Those normally venomous hazel eyes darted away from Rachel's. "I'm so sorry I woke your family but it's - it's about Beth and - "

"This is the -" Leroy's eyes widened a little.

"This is Quinn," Rachel corrected gently.

Quinn bounced her knees, looking around uncomfortably. "Please," she murmured urgently, searching first Rachel and then Leroy.

"Let the girl in! The A/C is running!" Hiram called grumpily down the hallway.

There was a desperate and distraught look to Quinn's expression, something that frightened Rachel. It was the look one might have before they detonated a bomb. "Daddy?" Rachel glanced back at Leroy, reaching a hand forward and grasping Quinn's arm gently.

Leroy sighed, but gave a sympathetic nod. "Please try to be quiet," he warned before squeezing Rachel's shoulder and heading down the hallway, his heavy footsteps retreating from earshot. Rachel guided the blonde inside, her fingers clasped delicately around Quinn's arm.

She was sure to lock the front door and noted the way Quinn seemed to be trembling. She'd never seen the HBIC like this. Of course, she'd seen her when she was confrontational and more rarely when she was vulnerable, but never like this. Delicate, broken, unbearably sad. Quinn followed close behind Rachel, a hand lingering at the back of Rachel's arm as if she was unsure of her ability to walk up the stairs.

"Sit," Rachel spoke softly, her eyes lingering on Quinn's torn jeans and grey, shapeless hoodie. Even her hair was disheveled, stray hairs everywhere. How in the hell did she start this conversation? She felt almost frightened, intimidated by the idea that Quinn would come to her in a state of distress - of all people, someone Quinn made no secret of hating.

"My mother's at home, passed out on the couch. There's got to be like six wine bottles she's emptied in the last two days. That's how it always is - and with the way I'm feeling I just - I didn't feel like it was good to be alone right now," Quinn's voice was trembling and the blonde was covering her face with her hands a moment later, her shoulders hunched and her entire posture crowded together as if she were trying to ball herself up.

Rachel sat down carefully, hesitating delicately over Quinn's hair, petting it momentarily before slipping her fingers over the back of her neck and finally the middle of her back. "What's going on?"

"I can't stop thinking about Beth. About my - about giving her up, about getting pregnant in the first place. I feel like - it feels like a death. I can't see her, I can't ever be in her life. She'll grow up with love for a mother that didn't carry her, didn't - I was kicked out of my parents house because I couldn't stand the thought of killing my own child. And now I'll never see her again. And they want me to act like - like nothing happened and all I can hear is Beth crying for the first time -" Quinn's last few words came out strained, a weak sob breaking from her throat and Quinn collapsed further into herself.

Swallowing, Rachel moved closer, folding one leg beneath herself and doing what felt most natural in the moment. She leaned completely into Quinn, wrapped her arms around the trembling blonde and cradled her close. It felt strange but familiar, right somehow.

"I'm embarassed I'm even here. You of all people should've turned me away but of course you didn't even hesitate - " Soon, heavy, deep sobs were blocking any words that might have come afterward, and Quinn's fingers were fisting, balling up the fabric of Rachel's shirt and Rachel distinctly felt her heart start to break.

Tears stung hotly in her eyes, empathy overwhelming Rachel as she clutched Quinn closely. "I can't imagine the pain you're in, Quinn," she spoke, trying to sound gentle and calm despite the sorrow filling her gut. She wasn't ignorant of Quinn's pain, even when she was cruel, but seeing it play full-force over Quinn's entire countenance was overwhelming.

"I was thinking about stealing my mom's car or just walking - to the dam that's just outside of town, because the current, you know it's - strong enough and it'd just be like tripping and it's far enough that -"

Rachel heard herself gasp subtly, and she held Quinn even tighter, suddenly understanding why she had said she didn't think it was good to be alone. "Jesus, Quinn," Rachel whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks and her chin quivering as she pressed her forehead to the side of Quinn's face, hands cupping either side of Quinn's face. "No, no," she insisted, eyes lingering on the intimate view afforded by her proximity: Quinn's eyes squeezed shut and her fingers desperately trying to cover her face in grief and shame. "You - fuck," Rachel whispered even more quietly, rarely swearing but having no words to comfort or even begin to fix this. Still she ducked closely, barely millimeters between their faces, Quinn's gaze blocked by her fingers even as Rachel held the sides of Quinn's face.

"I'm sorry," Quinn sobbed out, sounding so unlike herself that Rachel felt a strange, surreal feeling. "I'm sorry, I know it's not your responsibility I just didn't know who to - "

Rachel shook her head, pulling Quinn against herself again and cradling the back of her head, feeling Quinn's hands slip around her again and hold tight.

The question did linger, though. In Quinn's worst state of grief, she had somehow ended up believing it was Rachel who she needed to go to. It was Rachel - inconsequential and socially inept Rachel. The implications alone confused Rachel, set her off balance. She could've never expected to find herself in this situation, ever, yet here she was hushing gently against Quinn's ear as she rocked her just a little.

"You're not alone now. I won't let you go," Rachel whispered this last part much more softly, against the shell of Quinn's ear; sifting fingers through the stray bits of Quinn's hair, she waited until the heavy sobbing subsided. "Can I tell you something? Or are you in the kind of pain where you don't want to hear my encouragement?"

Quinn shook her head, still shamefully averting her eyes away from Rachel's. "Tell me," her words still came in small, violent sobs, but she seemed calmer now.

"You did the right thing. I know that in your heart you know this. You know that giving Beth up meant giving her the best chance and - if it helps, even though it took some time, I came to terms with my mother's decision. Beth will one day want to see you, will understand what you did. She's just a baby now, but one day she'll be a reasoning, educated young woman who had a shot at life because her mother - her real mother - cared enough, was unselfish enough to give her the best she could. You cared enough to give her a chance at something more than mediocrity and struggle." Rachel didn't even know if it was the right thing to say, didn't know how to talk someone away from that dark edge, but she knew that her heart was aching and her eyes still burned with sympathetic tears. "And she can't come to you if you aren't here for her to come to," she finished in barely a whisper, pressing her forehead to Quinn's temple, fingers loosing from strands of hair and cupping Quinn's jaw, resting just above her neck and stroking there. It seemed the most natural action in the world; somewhere in the back of her mind, Rachel felt shivers crawling across her flesh as she saw the way Quinn's eyes fluttered shut, breath exhaling from her throat at Rachel's comfort.

"I'm terrified. I've never felt - I've never wanted to hurt myself, not like this. I was - so close and it's so terrifying to think I could even want to do that to myself, Rachel," Quinn trembled, shivering still. "I was so close. I don't want to, I don't," Quinn asserted in a panicked voice.

"Quinn," Rachel spoke a bit more firmly than she had been, gently forcing Quinn to look at her. "Look - you need to breathe. You're probably having some kind of panic attack on top of these feelings you're having, so I need you to try to stay with me."

The blonde nodded, eyes darting away again, tears filling them. Her pink lips separated as she drew in long, even breaths and held it for just a few seconds longer.

"Good, breathe out longer," Rachel coached gently, stroking Quinn's cheek delicately while the other hand pressed against the base of Quinn's throat.

It took perhaps another twenty minutes for Quinn to come out of her frantic state.

"How are you feeling now?"

Quinn shook her head. "Like someone replaced all my organs with cement blocks," she responded quietly, delicately giving herself some space, but her hand remained clenching Rachel's shirt as if it were her life raft. "Still so, so sad," she took a quivering breath.

The shorter of the pair nodded sympathetically, her palm smoothing over Quinn's hair. How quickly real, painful grief grew a bond between two people. It was strange, that this felt completely natural and somehow as if it were always going to happen. Who knew you more intimately than the person you considered 'enemy?' Rachel didn't even have a friend that knew her as well as Quinn - and now it seemed that she, too, knew Quinn in some intimate way. "Please, try not to think of - please, don't go," Rachel found the words hesitating on her tongue, a bare whisper. "I couldn't bare to - " Tears filled her eyes unexpectedly once more and she found Quinn looking at her sadly, curiously.

The blonde seemed to have no words, instead pressing her forehead against Rachel's shoulder and leaning heavily on her.

"I would care so much more than you could imagine, more than I think even I could imagine," Rachel found her throat constricting with emotion and she rested her head against Quinn's, closing her eyes.

"I don't want to," Quinn finally responded, her voice sounding tired.

Rachel nodded subtly, "I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave tonight," she apologized. "You can sleep here, I have pajama bottoms - they'd be more comfortable than your jeans, I think."

"Sure," Quinn agreed quietly, standing and looking a bit dumbly after Rachel as the brunette found a long enough pair for the taller girl. She handed her a two-sizes-too-big pair of sweatpants and motioned to the adjoining bathroom, just in case Quinn didn't feel like stripping down. When the blonde disappeared and closed the door, Rachel suddenly darted over and knocked.

"You can't - uhm, you shouldn't lock the door. Or close it all the way," Rachel hesitated but knew it had to be said. When someone confessed the kind of dark feelings Quinn had just spoken of, Rachel knew that one was too fragile even after they had calmed down. It would be a few days before Quinn might return to a state where safety wouldn't be a concern.

A small, sad sigh came from the other side of the door as Quinn pulled the door open just a little bit.

"Sorry," Rachel responded quietly, leaning her head against the doorframe, her expression saddened.

"Don't be," Quinn's throaty voice responded. There was the brief sound of jeans unzipping, fabric swishing delicately, and finally the door came all the way open, Quinn emerging in the sweatpants, her jeans folded. "Where can I set these?"

Rachel took the jeans and set them on top of her dresser, eyes trailing over Quinn carefully. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep?"

Quinn nodded, and as she turned her back and slipped into the still-made part of the bed, she mumbled something Rachel didn't quite hear.

Rachel asked for clarification just as she climbed under her covers, realizing that sleeping on a double mattress was still kind of close quarters. "Sorry, I didn't hear you -"

"Thank you, Rachel," Quinn clarified just loud enough to be heard.

"Just - if I fall asleep first -"

"I won't leave."

Those were the last quiet words Rachel heard before she drifted into a heavy sleep, her hand resting against Quinn's back where her body and the mattress met, as if to assure herself that the blonde was safe and alive.

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When Rachel woke for the second time in a day, it was 6am and her alarm beeped unpleasantly. Beside her, Quinn failed to stir at the sound. Normally, though it was a Saturday, Rachel would've gotten up to use her elliptical but it seemed that the night's events had drained her just a little too much. She reset the alarm and turned over, eyes lingering on Quinn's form. Sometime in the night, Quinn had put her hood on and curled into the fetal position. Her breathing was slow and even, despite Rachel reaching forward to delicately press her hand to Quinn's arm.

Rachel had the strange impulse to scoot closer, wondered what it might feel like with Quinn in her arms again, but resisted the impulse out of sheer confusion. She stifled a yawn with the palm of her hand and rolled to her side, closed her eyes again.

She was glad that Quinn was still there, still okay. The previous night might have seemed like a strange dream if it were not for Quinn still asleep in her bed, wearing her sweatpants and bundled in her comforter. Also, Rachel was glad to find out that Quinn was not a cover hog.

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At 9am when Quinn finally started to stir, Rachel asked her first stupid question for the day.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Quinn blinked sleepily and gave a non-commital grunt. She followed it with a shake of her head and closed her eyes again.

"Would breakfast help?"

Another shake of her head, but Quinn rolled over and Rachel was surprised when the blonde ducked her head against Rachel's pillow, resting her body slightly against Rachel's. The brunette felt her heart falter a little bit, and she leaned up on her elbow, her hand hesitating just above Quinn's shoulder before she began to draw comforting circles over Quinn's back. There was no protest.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I feel fucking embarassed," Quinn's words were muffled against the pillow, but Rachel made them out well enough. "I feel frustrated because I'm still fucking depressed."

Rachel's eyes lingered on Quinn for some time, her fingers trailing down Quinn's spine then upwards, in the back of her mind wondering how it came to be that she was actually comforting Quinn Fabray physically, almost intimately.

"I want it to stop," Quinn finished, turning her gaze to Rachel. The darkness from the night before seemed to be drained from her eyes, which was a comforting sight. Now, despite the sadness evident, she felt like Quinn had come back to reality from that dark abyss.

"It will," Rachel soothed gently.

"Last night - "

"- is nothing to be ashamed of."

This didn't seem to comfort Quinn much, but the blonde pressed her head into the pillow again and folded her arms beneath her. Rachel found her fingers moving of their own accord, tangling gently in Quinn's hair, soothing trails over Quinn's scalp.

She wondered how things might go once they'd gone back to school for the week. Worry painted her expression, so she was glad Quinn wasn't looking at her. Instead, Rachel settled for resting her head against Quinn's shoulderblade, tucking herself against Quinn and savoring the warmth of human connection. She was pleased when Quinn didn't seem to object.

So they spent the day like that, in bed, Quinn occasionally letting her emotions surface through conversation, eating quickly-made sandwiches and pouring over various things Rachel had in her room. By evening's fall, Rachel was pleased when Quinn asked if she could stay another night, not yet sure if she could watch Quinn leave without worrying about her safety.

She supposed that the day had been a success, though, because they fell asleep late the following night after a conversation filled with laughter and gentle jibes sent in one another's direction, almost as if Quinn wasn't feeling so sad anymore.