Part Six

Find My Way Home

"Hey," Rachel says, getting Quinn's attention as she steps out of the front door to the house that no longer feels like a home.

Quinn glances over her shoulder and offers her a small smile. "It's freezing out here. What are you doing?"

Shrugging slightly, she pads across the wooden floors and settles in beside Quinn on the porch swing. She sits close enough to soak up the blonde's warmth, but they're not actually touching.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asks her, almost whispering.

"I could ask you the same question."

Quinn licks her lips, feeling the cold on her tongue. "I came to New York the first time because I wanted to see you," she says; "and I came all the other times because I needed to see you."

Rachel frowns. "How many times did you come?" she asks.

"I lost count," she admits. "Boston isn't that far from New York, and I could easily catch a train to come see you perform."

"Quinn," she whispers, caught off guard. "You've - you've seen me perform?"

"Of course," she says, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "How could I stay away? Watching you perform has always been one of my favourite things to do. You've always been amazing but, seeing you up there doing the thing you love, it helped make your leaving hurt a little less. Just knowing that you were making it made it feel as if everything I'd been through since you left was maybe worth it."

Tears spring to Rachel's eyes. "I'm so sorry," she cries, burying her face in Quinn's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Quinn."

Quinn just shakes her head. "I thought we already discussed this, Rach," she says. "I don't want your apologies."

"But you're dissatisfied with my reasons why."

Quinn sighs. "I think, regardless of whatever you ended up telling me, I was always going to be dissatisfied," she confesses gently. "I spent a long time being angry with you, and I managed to channel it all into some very productive things. It still hurts to think about it, so this isn't anything that can just be fixed in a few days. We both know that."

Rachel swallows audibly, lifting her head slightly. She remains close to Quinn. "Do - do you want to fix it?"

Quinn closes her eyes. "Fix what, exactly?"

"Our relationship."

"Which one?" Quinn questions. "We've been many things to each other. Enemies, allies, friends, sisters, lovers. Which one of those would you like to repair?"

"Not the first one," she murmurs in response. "And probably not the fourth one either." She blinks once, twice. "Though, I think we'll both be relieved to know that I've never actually seen you as my sister."

Quinn, admittedly is relieved by that. It's not as if Quinn was here for all that long before the feelings developed. It was a few months, at the most, and it was always going to be... ugly.

They were always going to lose.

Quinn rests her forehead against Rachel's. "What are we doing, Rach?" she whispers, her breath filling the space between them.

"We're sitting on our childhood home's porch swing, talking and feeling," she says. "I - I like it here."

Quinn swallows. "Don't," she says. "Don't, okay?"

"Quinn," she says gently. "Quinn, I - "

"Don't," she repeats. "Don't say things you don't mean, and please don't start things you can't finish."

Rachel closes her eyes. This is all too much and yet not enough at the same time.

"When do you leave?" Quinn suddenly asks.

"The thirtieth."

"A lot can happen between now and then, Rachel," she says seriously.

"What do you want to happen?" Rachel asks carefully, suddenly wary. What are they doing?

Quinn doesn't seem to have an answer for her, and that seems to make the decision.

"I think it's best if nothing does happen, Quinn," Rachel answers for both of them. "I can't help thinking that things turned out the way they were always supposed to."

"I don't particularly like the way things have turned out," she confesses; "at least, not when it comes to you and me."

"And, do you think I like it?" she asks, slightly defensive.

Quinn sighs. "Well, what am I supposed to think?" she questions. "You're the one who left me, Rach. You're the one who knows how I feel. So, you have all the power here, which is nothing new. The question now is do - do you want me? Because you can have me. If you want me, you can have me."

Rachel is stunned to silence.

She doesn't remember a time when Quinn was ever this forward or direct, and she has to admit that she rather likes the take-charge attitude of one Quinn Fabray. When they were teenagers, it looked as if Quinn was fighting it almost as much as Rachel was.

When she gave in, it was almost inevitable that Rachel would, too.

But.

Things are different now.

"I live in New York, Quinn," she whispers.

"That isn't an answer to the question," Quinn points out.

"It's not that easy."

"Then, what can I do to make it easier?" she presses. "What do you want me to say? Do you want me to ask you to stay? Do you want me to tell you to go? I need to know what you want."

"I don't know what I want, Quinn," she says. "I already told you that, and you can't ask me to make a decision so drastically."

At the sound of that, Quinn pulls back slowly, her eyes colder and more distant than Rachel's ever seen them. "What's so hard about that?" she asks, carefully rising to her feet. "After all, you've done it before."

And then she disappears into the house, leaving Rachel feeling as if she's lost her all over again.

When Rachel goes back into the house, she's shivering. She finds everyone still lounging in the living room with cups of eggnog and lazy smiles. It smells and feels like Christmas, and Rachel doesn't know how she's survived so long without her family.

Her eyes automatically seek out Quinn, but she's not in the room.

Neither is Noah.

Santana pats the space beside her on the couch, and Rachel immediately goes to sit. The act, itself, is like an olive branch being extended, and Rachel isn't going to hesitate. If she can prove herself to Santana, then that's already half the battle.

Between her and Noah, Rachel actually stands a chance with the rest of the family.

All she has to do now is stop making such a mess of things with Quinn.

Speaking of Quinn.

Rachel visibly tenses when the blonde enters the room, and Santana gives her a curious look, which she ignores.

Quinn walks straight towards Leslie, and practically drapes her body over the other woman, which makes them both laugh.

Rachel feels an irrational jealousy that she forces herself to suppress.

Quinn shifts on Leslie, and then brings her mouth up to Leslie's ear to whisper, "Just so you know, it's your own fault that you're totally going to miss out on me."

Leslie frowns at her. "What?"

"We could have been something special," Quinn says dramatically; "if only you'd met me first."

Leslie's confusion worsens, but her next question dies on her lips when Noah enters the room, looking nervous and excited at the same time. "Baby?" Leslie questions, her eyes flicking from Noah to Quinn, and then back to Noah.

The moment Quinn silently slips away from Leslie, everyone suddenly knows what's about to happen.

Even Leslie.

"Noah?" she whispers in wonder and disbelief as she watches him get down on one knee in front of where she's still seated. One hand moves to cover her open mouth, and the other reaches for Quinn's.

She needs to hold onto something.

"I love you," Noah starts, his eyes flicking to Quinn for a moment.

God, he's so nervous, but Quinn's smile is encouraging.

When his eyes settle on Leslie again, he smiles a warm, content smile that settles his racing heart. "I love you," he repeats; "and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He's grinning now. "I've always wanted to spend it with you, from the moment we met. You can even ask Quinn. I called her the night we were introduced, and told her I met my future wife."

"He totally did," Quinn interjects, and Leslie lets out a teary laugh.

"You make me better," Noah continues. "You make me want to be better. I've lived a long life and, for a while, I gave up on the idea of finding happiness in love." He drops his gaze for a moment. "I've made mistakes, and I probably will still. I've cheated and lied and stolen, and I won't hide from my past, and I love you all the more because you've never asked me to. I know we've had our own difficulties, but there is nobody else in this world I want. I don't care about all that other stuff. We'll figure it out, as long as we're together."

Leslie's tears start to fall at the sound of that. Despite his endless assurances, she's never really been able to believe that he would accept that she could never give him children of his own.

But, here he is, on one knee and begging her to let him love her.

For forever.

"I've built a family of my own," Noah says; "and I'm unafraid to do it again. With you, Les. Always, with you, baby." He sucks in a deep breath, and then releases it slowly. "I'm definitely going to mess up, but I'm willing to put in the work. I want this, and I want you. So, now, the question remains: do you want me too?" He reaches into his back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a black box.

Someone gasps.

Noah brings the box to hold it between them. He pauses for a beat, and then opens it to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring that Quinn helped him pick out. "Savannah Leslie Capistrano, will you marry me?"

Rachel thinks Leslie says yes.

Any words the woman says get drowned out by the sudden cheering the moment Leslie starts to nod, and Rachel's ears explode at the noise.

Noah and Leslie's embrace turns into a full-on family hug, all of the children piling onto the couple. Santana even drags Rachel down with her, and everyone ends up in a joyful heap on the carpet until Hiram makes a declaration that receives another burst of excitement.

"I think this calls for some champagne!"

The phone call arrives just after ten o'clock, when everyone is warm and lounging in the living room. They aren't actually doing anything, just talking and laughing and genuinely enjoying one another's company for what feels like the first time in forever.

Rachel is in the middle of telling a story about an encounter with an overzealous fan when Quinn's phone goes off, and the ringtone is immediately recognised as the one belonging to Cooper.

With a slight frown, Quinn retrieves her phone from her pocket and rises to her feet to take the call privately. They just watch her leave the room as she answers the phone, and then stops mid-step.

"What?" she snaps.

There's something in her voice that makes them all tense, all their eyes trained on her rigid back.

"Cooper, slow down. Say that again."

Noah rises to his feet.

"Wait. What? What happened?"

He takes steady steps towards Quinn.

"She what? Where are you now? Okay. I'm coming. I'm coming."

It's a good thing Noah is standing as close to her as he is because, as soon as Quinn hangs up with Cooper, she promptly passes out.

Quinn doesn't say anything to anyone once she's spoken to Mia's doctors.

Cooper tries, but she shakes her head and walks to a spot further down the corridor, sinks to the floor, buries her face in her hands and sobs. She's far enough for them not to hear her, but it's obvious to them all what's happening, and the sight of it breaks Rachel's heart into tiny, scattered pieces.

"Cooper," Noah says, his voice desperate in his search for answers; "what happened? What are they saying?"

The man, who Rachel is seeing for the first time, looks ghostly pale as he stares at the amassed Berry-Lopez-Puckerman-Fabray-Evans clan. He's tall, brown-haired and blue-eyed, with a classic handsomeness that suits Quinn in some cosmic way. Quinn wasn't kidding when she said he was easy on the eyes.

"I - " he starts, and then stops. He takes in a shaky breath. "I was careless. I wasn't paying attention." He looks completely and utterly devastated. "We were sledding," he says. "I don't even know what happened. We always go down the slope together, but I turned away for a second - " he chokes on a sob, and Brittany immediately buries him in a hug.

Santana bristles slightly but she says nothing. She knows it will do none of them any good to start yelling at this broken man.

"I'm sorry," Cooper cries. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Rachel feels her heart twist painfully in her chest, and her fists clench at her sides.

"I'm sorry," Cooper repeats, and his voice is so raw that Rachel has to turn away from the sight of him.

They don't get answers until Hiram forces his way into a group of doctors. It would have been easier for LeRoy to find the necessary information but Quinn had shrieked at him to stay the hell away from her and her daughter when he tried to accompany the family to the hospital. The hurt was clear in his eyes but he stayed at home with Stacey and Steve.

What they find out is that Mia was brought in four hours ago, and rushed into surgery following a sledding accident. She had some internal injuries which they've successfully fixed, and now they're just waiting to see if the swelling in her brain will go down on its own. The surgeons are on standby to operate if it doesn't and, God, Rachel can barely breathe.

It's Christmas.

This kind of thing isn't supposed to happen.

In fact, it shouldn't be happening, regardless of the day.

The waiting room is quiet, somber.

Even with all the Christmas decorations around, nothing about this moment feels remotely festive, and Rachel's doing her best not to do something stupid.

Like, maybe, yell at this Cooper Harris whom she doesn't even know.

Like, possibly, going to find Quinn, who's been MIA for almost forty minutes.

Like, definitely, finally calling Kurt back and asking him to book her on the next flight out of Ohio, because she doesn't think she can do this.

Like - like -

So many things.

"Do you want anything from the vending machine?"

Rachel vaguely hears Sam ask the question, and she may register it, but she shakes her head anyway. Her stomach is the last thing on her mind, right now. In fact, she doesn't even know what's on her mind, and she doesn't like this particular feeling.

She's never liked it, and it's always been associated with Quinn Fabray.

After forcing herself to take a handful of calming breaths, Rachel rises to her feet and walks out of the waiting area where she's been waiting with everyone else. She ignores their curious, questioning looks, and just keeps going.

She needs a moment.

Really, she thinks that she just needs to see Quinn. The blonde has always managed to make everything better, and she selfishly hopes she'll be able to do the same for Quinn. She can't even begin to imagine what any of this must be like for her; to feel so hopeless because there's literally nothing you can do.

Except pray, apparently, which seems to be what Quinn has been doing when Rachel spots her stepping out of the hospital's tiny chapel.

Quinn freezes when she sees her, and the two of them just stare at each other for long seconds, before Quinn's shoulders slump and Rachel crosses the space between them to pull the woman into a much-needed hug. Quinn settles into it immediately, her arms snaking around Rachel's waist as she soaks up the comfort. It's not the first time they've hugged since their reunion, but this one feels heavier.

They still have so much to talk about - too much, really - but all of that feels so unimportant now.

"She's going to be okay," Rachel whispers, even though she still hasn't fully grasped what's happening to Mia. She just knows she has to say the words. Somebody has to, and she imagines Quinn's doctor-brain is running through ever worst-case-scenario imaginable.

Quinn's grip tightens. "I haven't prayed in so long," she confesses quietly. "Not since I still lived with the Fabrays." She sucks in a jagged breath. "I used to pray every night back then, begging for God to come save me. I pleaded with him to keep me safe, and he failed me constantly. So, when I left, I told myself I wouldn't ask him for anything ever again." She falls silent for a moment, and then says, "Not until today."

Rachel isn't sure how to respond to that, so she doesn't.

It's the sound of a door closing further down the corridor that draws an end to their endless embrace, and Quinn pulls away, immediately wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. She breathes out slowly, trying to steady herself for what's to come, and Rachel watches her intently, waiting for something.

"Thank you," Quinn says, dropping her hands and offering Rachel a sad smile. "I - think I needed that."

Rachel isn't sure how or why it happens, but it does.

One second, they're just standing there looking at each other and, the next, they're kissing.

It's a slow, almost painful, kiss.

It's gentle and thoughtless and, before either of them can actually sink into it, Quinn jerks back in alarm when her brain catches up to her body.

"I'm sorry," she automatically says, touching her lips with her fingers. "God, I'm so sorry."

Rachel refuses to look at her, wrapping her arms around herself.

"There's - there's just too much…" Quinn trails off, her heartbeat still running at a mile an hour.

There's just too much...

History.

Pain.

Going on.

Just, too much.

"I'm sorry, too," Rachel says, belatedly, but she ends up talking to Quinn's back as the woman walks away.

"You're a fucking moron, you know that?"

Rachel startles at the sound of Santana's voice, frowning at her. "Excuse me?"

"Quinn's daughter is literally in the hospital right now," Santana says, scowling. "Where the fuck to get off kissing her?"

"Pardon?"

"Don't play dumb," Santana says. "I thought you were - fuck, I'm so sick of your shit."

Rachel closes her eyes for a moment, trying not to react in any way she's going to regret. "What do you want me to say?"

"What were you thinking?" she snaps.

Rachel sighs. "I think it's pretty obvious to everyone that I wasn't thinking," she says. "She clearly wasn't either."

Santana shakes her head. "I mean, what do you expect to happen now? Are you just going to magically go back to the way it was before, huh?"

Rachel just stares at her with wide, sad and distressed eyes, and Santana instantly deflates. The Latina moves to sit in the chair beside Rachel and tries to come up with words that could help in this situation, but she's grasping at thin air.

"You're really still in love with her, aren't you?" Santana eventually asks, even though they both know it's not even a question.

"I don't think I've ever stopped," she confesses quietly. "It's just one of those things that is. Quinn and Rachel. Life and insecurities and ambition and fathers just keep getting in the way of everything."

Santana frowns. "What do you mean by 'fathers?' Is this about Lee?"

Rachel sighs, unsure whether it's a good idea to dive fully into the awkwardness that is LeRoy Berry and the role he may or may not have played in successfully helping Rachel make her clean break from her family to pursue her dreams in New York City, and effectively killing all hopes of Quinn eventually joining her.

Rachel can't decide what she feels about him in this moment. There's anger and a little bit of hatred. There's a lot of resentment and confusion and just plain what the actual fuck, Daddy?

But, there's still a part of her that understands, and she hates it.

Hates it about herself.

"Don't kiss her again," Santana eventually says when Rachel has been silent for too long. "Not when you don't even know what you're doing. You both deserve better than that."

Rachel's not sure she would agree with that, but she doesn't say anything.

Instead, pushing aside thoughts of LeRoy, she reaches for Santana's hand and holds it tightly in both of her own in her lap. While Rachel doesn't really know Mia, she feels helpless and awful, so she can only imagine what it must be like for everyone else. This has been the worst way to end their Christmas and, while she isn't at all religious, she feels the need to pray, as well.

The little sleep Rachel does get is restless and uncomfortable and, by the time the sun peeks through the blinds in the waiting room, she's stiff and starving. One would think they would make these chairs even a little bit more comfortable, given the amount of time people generally spend in them, but no.

From the looks of things, she's not the only one awake. Only she, Santana, Noah and Leslie ended up staying the entire night, with the rest heading home. It wasn't even a question, even though none of them have seen Quinn in several hours.

Or Cooper.

As Mia's parents, they're allowed to be with her, Rachel knows.

The moment Santana notices her opened eyes, she offers a tired smile. "Welcome back," she murmurs. "I'm going to get some coffee. Wanna come?"

Rachel's mouth feels heavy, and she spends a minute stretching out her limbs before she nods, and the two of them head towards the cafeteria. The hospital is just coming alive, the night shift changing over, and she expects the doctors to do their rounds soon.

"Have you heard any news?" Rachel asks as she follows Santana, who seems to know exactly where she's going. Rachel is tempted to ask about that, but then she remembers Quinn's accident, and she presses her lips together to force herself to keep silent.

"Yeah," Santana says. "They took Mia for another scan, and the swelling is coming down. She's not going to need surgery."

Rachel lets out a breath she didn't even realise she was holding. "That's - that's great news."

Santana nods.

"How's Quinn?"

"Exhausted," she says. "Relieved, as well. I don't think she's slept, but Mia's going in the right direction, so..." she trails off. "I don't think any of us would survive if anything ever happened to that little girl. It would absolutely destroy Quinn, and I - I can't see that again."

Rachel audibly swallows as she lifts a hand to Santana's back, just rubbing a soft circle over her shoulder blade, the tension unmistakable. She's not sure what to say, so she says nothing.

It's the one thing she's learned in all her years away.

The coffee turns out to be the best thing to happen to Rachel since sliced bread, seriously. After practically gulping it down - burning her tongue in the process - and nibbling on a shared sandwich with Santana, Rachel goes to find a bathroom to make herself appear semi-presentable.

She almost squeaks at the sight she finds in the mirror - God, Kurt would murder her if anyone actually recognised her in this state - and she spends ten minutes dealing with her hair. She scrubs at her face, trying to wake herself up further. She imagines this day isn't going to be an easy one.

And, one glance at all the missed texts and calls on her phone merely proves that.

For a terrifying moment, Rachel wants to throw the device against the wall and just not deal with the rest of the world, but she can't.

Of course, she can't.

This is her life, and it's supposed to be everything she wanted, right?

Sighing heavily, she pockets her phone, leaving things unanswered, and leaves the bathroom. Santana mentioned that Mia was moved to a new room - something about no longer being critical - so Rachel goes in search of it. If only to see with her own eyes that Mia is, in fact, all right.

And, she is.

For the most part, at least.

If Rachel didn't already know the extent of her internal injuries, the tiny girl could just be asleep.

But, her left arm is in a bright pink cast, and she has bruises along the left side of her face, and Rachel feels tears slide down her cheeks without her consent. She doesn't bother to wipe them away as she keeps her eyes on Mia, irrationally thinking that she might disappear if Rachel blinks for too long.

It's ridiculous, she knows. All these feelings for this little girl she doesn't even know. She knows it's merely an extension of what she feels for Quinn, but she's forced to acknowledge there's a part of her that could love Mia. She could love a child that wasn't even truly hers, and that's terrifying in ways she doesn't understand.

Particularly when she's struggling to see herself loving the maybe baby inside of her. She suspects that has to do with Jesse, but she's trying not to think about him. She wants this. A baby. A child. She wants love and a family, and she doesn't want to watch it slip through her fingers again.

Her phone buzzes again, and she glances at the screen to see that it's Kurt calling again.

If that isn't a reminder that she's Rachel Berry, then she doesn't know what is. She can't just have this. Her ten-year-old decision to choose career over her somewhat-irregular family kind of ensured it, and she doesn't deserve any of it. She's already hurt them so much, and she can't even make a vow to herself that she won't do it again.

What would it mean to her career if - if she and Quinn managed to sort through all their history?

What would it mean to her life?

Where would they even live?

There is an endless number of obstacles regardless of whatever decisions Rachel makes, and she just wants it all to stop. She just wants a moment; a breather of some kind. She was supposed to find that here, and she's both surprised and not by how naive she was to think she could actually fix anything.

Maybe LeRoy was on to something, even though he went about it in all the worst ways.

Maybe Rachel just needs to -

"Hey."

Rachel whips around at the voice, her heart hurtling into her throat.

Quinn's eyes widen at her reaction, and she raises her hands placatingly. "Sorry," she says, grimacing slightly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Rachel tries to smile in reassurance, but her emotions are all over the place and her heart is beating erratically. "Hi," she forces herself to say.

Quinn steps further into the room, frowning slightly. "Are you okay?" she asks.

Rachel doesn't answer, her eyes noticing the envelope in Quinn's right hand. For whatever reason, the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and she doesn't know why. "Is that about Mia?" she finds herself asking.

"No," Quinn says, setting down the envelope on the end of the bed and then moving past Rachel to get a proper look at her daughter.

Rachel easily steps to the side, and watches silently. There's a tension in Quinn's body that releases when she bends to kiss Mia's forehead, whispering words that Rachel can't hear. It's beautiful and heartbreaking, and Rachel feels voyeuristic for continuing to watch, but she can't bring herself to look away.

She wants this.

She wants.

"You didn't leave."

Rachel snaps to attention, because now Quinn is talking to her. "What?"

"You're still wearing the same clothes as yesterday," Quinn points out. "Did you sleep here, too?"

Rachel just nods, her voice failing her the way her brain is threatening to.

Quinn steps forward, closer to her, and reaches for her hand, just to give her something to hold onto.

Rachel holds tight, ignoring the tingling the contact causes on her skin. Something is happening to her, and she knows she doesn't like it.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

"Thank you, Rachel," Quinn says.

"For what?"

"Just, thank you for staying, I guess, when you didn't have to," she says. "Thank you for being here."

Rachel squeezes Quinn's hand. "You know I wouldn't be anywhere else," she says.

There's a long moment of silence as the two of them merely exist, and it feels both heavy and light, as if this is a moment that could be theirs.

"I'm sorry," Rachel suddenly says, her eyes unable to meet Quinn's.

"What happened to Mia isn't your fault," Quinn immediately says; "It's nobody's."

"I am sorry about Mia, but I'm referring to the kiss," she explains. "I mean, you were vulnerable and I just took advantage of - "

"Hey," Quinn cuts her off gently. "Don't be sorry, okay? It isn't as if I didn't kiss you back."

"I know," she whispers; "but it still shouldn't have happened."

Quinn swallows audibly. "Do you regret it?"

Rachel blinks. "It? No. But I do regret the timing of it. I think I've wanted to kiss you from the moment you walked into the living room my first night in town."

At the sound of that, Quinn blushes.

"I thought you were beautiful before, but now you're just ridiculously stunning," she says. "It's not fair, Quinn. I mean, how could you just grow into this graceful, absolutely gorgeous woman? Like, how?"

Quinn just shakes her head, because this isn't the conversation they're supposed to be having.

Rachel sighs, her eyes dropping to the envelope sitting on the end of Mia's bed. If it's not for Mia, then it has to be for her. It's the only thing that explains the rumbling in her chest, and the nausea that's building. "Is that...?" she starts, but she's unsure exactly what she wants to ask.

Quinn tenses, taking her hand back and running it through her hair. "They're your test results, yeah," she says. "I - I needed to take a walk to clear my head earlier, and I ended passing by the lab, so I stopped to check, and there they were. Are you ready to know for sure?"

There's no immediate response from Rachel, but Quinn still lifts the envelope and retrieves the page that has the potential to seal both Rachel's immediate and forever future. She's not ready, she thinks. She's been desperate to know for sure, of course, but she suddenly doesn't want to know.

"Wait," she says, her hand shooting out to stop Quinn's movements. "Just, wait."

Quinn waits.

"What if there's a baby?" she whispers, more to herself.

"Then, there's a baby," Quinn says.

"What if there isn't?"

Quinn waits a beat, and then looks down at the sheet of paper that could seal the fate of the world, for all Rachel's concerned. Quinn's eyes scan the sheet, looking for the answers. Her brow furrows slightly, and then she blinks once, twice, before looking at Rachel.

"What?"

Quinn shifts slightly, and Rachel's hand drops to her side. "I remember, you mentioned Xanax," she says. "Is that something you take?"

Rachel frowns. "Yes," she says. "Sometimes."

"Lately?"

"With all the stress of the album and Jesse, yes."

Quinn nods. "You're - you're not pregnant, Rachel," she says carefully. "Xanax, and drugs like it, have been known to produce false positives because of the hormone they - " she cuts herself off. "That doesn't matter. Just, you're not pregnant."

Rachel's ears are ringing, and she can't be sure why. "I'm not pregnant?"

"No."

"There's no baby?"

"There's no baby."

Rachel waits a moment, expecting something about the world to change now that she knows the truth, but nothing does.

"I'm sorry," Quinn says.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I don't know," Quinn admits, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I feel as if this isn't what you wanted."

"I don't know what I wanted," she returns, frowning slightly, because those are words she can't seem to compute. "But, maybe this is for the best," she continues anyway. "It's not the right time, and I really don't want to have to deal with Jesse for the rest of my life." She says the words, trying to convince herself of them, but there are cracks growing on her heart, and she needs to get out of here.

"I'm sorry," Quinn says again, and Rachel doesn't know whether she wants to punch the woman for saying those words that she can barely understand in this context or burst into tears and seek comfort.

Rachel does neither.

"I'm okay," she manages to say. "Really, I am. It's better that I know. I can start making the appropriate decisions, you know? It's okay. It's better this way."

Quinn clearly wants to say something. She even opens her mouth to get the words out, but it's another voice that cuts into the space, and everything before is immediately pushed aside, forgotten.

"Mommy?"

Quinn starts at Mia's croaky whisper, and then turns.

Rachel watches for a moment, unable to handle whatever is happening inside of her, and then she leaves.

Quinn doesn't seem to notice.

Rachel decides she's in desperate need of a shower.

She could probably use a brush of her teeth, as well.

She just needs to go, leave.

Take a walk, maybe.

Clear her head and try to figure out what she's supposed to do now.

So, she does.

Rachel goes to the hotel with the intention of showering, maybe catching a nap, and then going back to the hospital. It's a simple, doable plan, and she just needs to focus on something to ease the growing emptiness in her chest. She didn't expect to feel this way, even though she can't quite bring herself to figure out what exactly she's feeling.

That's the plan, at least.

Which definitely doesn't account for finding both Jesse and Kurt waiting for her when she gets to her hotel room.

Honestly, she has the sudden, irrepressible urge to punch them both in their stupid faces, because this is honestly the last thing she needs right now. Jesse looks smugly hopeful, as if he knows Kurt is the one person who will make her see reason, and Kurt just looks unimpressed, his arms folded across his chest.

"Where have you been?" Kurt asks.

"Well, good morning to you, too," she mutters, bypassing them both and opening the room's door. She wants nothing more than to slam it in their faces, but she knows that will just make an already-tense situation even worse, and she's too exhausted to fight with either one of them right now.

"I stopped by the house several times," Jesse says, following Kurt into the room. "You weren't there. Where were you?" His face scrunches up. "Wait, were you were Quinn?" He says her name with such disgust that Rachel flinches, and then seriously contemplates just how much it would hurt her own hand to break his nose.

Rachel sighs, her eyes on Kurt. "What are you even doing here?" she asks, sitting on the edge of her bed and removing her shoes.

"Why haven't you been answering my calls?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Which ones?" she asks, letting her irritation seep into her tone. "The ones where you press me to come back to New York, or the ones where you try to manipulate me into agreeing to go on the tour I told you to postpone?"

Kurt waits a moment, entirely too calm, and Rachel really needs to get a hold of her suddenly-violent thoughts. "Rachel, listen," he starts. "This is a big deal, okay? This tour, at this time, has the potential to send you on a European tour. This is your career we're talking about here, and I don't understand why you're willing to give it all up for - " he stops.

"For what, Kurt?" she questions. "For family? For love?"

Jesse makes a strangled sound, but she's not paying attention to him.

She knows she might have said to much, so she just sits, pressing her lips together.

"Well, yes," Kurt says.

"I don't get it," Rachel says, looking at him. "When we first started out, I thought you understood me."

"And, I do," he insists. "You and I, we do anything and everything to make it in this world. We make the sacrifices."

"But, what if we don't have to?"

Kurt frowns. "What?"

"Why is it that you, Jesse, and my father all have this mindset that it has to be one or the other?" she questions, her tone soft, almost conversational. "Why can't it be both? Why can't I have it all?"

"Rachel," Kurt says, smoothing down his jacket with his palms. "We've talked about this. We've come too far for you to throw it all away, just because you've decided to grow a conscience."

Rachel clenches her jaw. "You're much too invested in my success, Kurt," she says slowly. "Be careful, there. You're starting to sound like Jesse."

Jesse scoffs, but says nothing.

Kurt sighs. "Rachel, honey," he says, moving to sit beside her. "What is this really about? If this is some kind of sexual crisis, we can work on it, in private," he offers. "If you need to make it back to this God-awful town more often, we can organise to make that happen too, but I will not let you throw away this once in a lifetime chance for something so - "

"So what?" Rachel snaps. "Do you even know what's going on? Did your best friend Jesse here tell you why I even came home?"

Kurt sucks on his teeth for a moment. "We can take care of that."

"Unbelievable!" she exclaims, jumping to her feet and moving away from him. "Is that why you're here? To make sure I just make it go away?"

Kurt shakes his head, but he still says, "It's my job to keep your career on track."

"And here I made the mistake of thinking you were actually my friend," she snaps. "That you actually care about me. The person. Rachel. Not Rachel fucking Berry, everybody's meal ticket!" She's pacing now. "How dare you, Kurt? How dare you even attempt to sweep something like this under the rug, as if it's meaningless?"

"Rachel," Kurt says. "You have to look at it - "

"Shut up!" she suddenly screams, and Kurt does.

Jesse flinches.

"Get out," she says, calmer. "Just, get out of my room, and out of my sight. I don't want to see you. Either of you."

"Rachel," Kurt tries. "I don't understand why this is any different to what happened in the past. You told me the story. You walked away from them once before, choosing career over family. Why won't you do it again?"

Rachel stares at him. "Because, Kurt," she says. "I was wrong." She closes her eyes for a long moment. "It wasn't ever a choice I had to make, and I'm definitely not doing it again."

"You're just going to ruin your career." It's Jesse who says this. "A baby is going to ruin it, and she's going to ruin it."

Rachel sucks in a breath, her head suddenly spinning. "Well, those are both things you don't need to worry about," she says, and her tone is flat, almost broken with the disappointment of the truth of that statement.

Jesse pauses, hearing something very specific in her voice. "There's no baby?"

Rachel glares at him. "Congratulations, Jesse," she says. "You got exactly what you wanted. There's no baby."

Jesse steps towards her, and she takes an immediate step back. He seems undeterred. "It's a sign, Rachel," he says. "Don't you see? Children aren't in the cards for us. We can - "

"No," she says, interrupting. "There is no us, and there is no we. You and I are done."

"But there's no baby," he points out.

"That changes nothing about you and me," she says, because, yes, there's a part of her that might have truly wanted there to be a baby.

Even though she knows she's nowhere near ready for one.

Kurt chooses that moment to cut in, knowing the two of them are going to get into it again, and he doesn't want to be around for that. "Rachel," he says; "I need you to think about this clearly."

"Funny you should say that, Kurt," she immediately returns; "because I do believe I'm thinking clearly for the first time in my life."

Kurt swallows, and then reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Here," he says carefully, setting down the item he's just retrieved on the room's desk. "This is a ticket to New York. It leaves tonight from Columbus, okay? Just, get on the plane, get back to your life, and we can figure out all the rest, okay? Just, maybe coming here now was a mistake, okay? Come back to New York, and everything will be fine, okay? We'll work everything out. Don't throw away every sacrifice you've ever made for a handful of regrets."

And, maybe that's it, she thinks.

Maybe it's just regret.

She hurt them, and she feels terrible about it, and there's a part of her that's almost certain she would do it again, just differently.

All Rachel does is nod, her body numb, and then Kurt and Jesse leave her to her thoughts.

That are spiralling out of control.

There's no baby.

There's no... Quinn, either. It's too much, she said, and Rachel agrees with her. They can't just pick up where they left off. They can't just do this, and that truth weighs heavily on Rachel's heart as she eventually takes a shower and throws on some clothes.

She tries to nap, and fails.

Her mind won't stop thinking about babies and Quinn and Mia and the future and New York and her career and her family and a flight she knows she should catch and just, please make it stop. She can practically feel the plane ticket in the room as if it's a burning furnace, and her heart can't handle any of it.

It can't.

Which is the reason she shoots to her feet, throws on her shoes, and leaves.

Rachel stops at the house.

She's not entirely sure why she does it but, the second she sees LeRoy, she suddenly does. She's unconsciously put him on her list of issues she needs to deal with before she can truly feel... settled.

He's the only one around, apparently, as everyone else is at the hospital now that Mia's awake and doing well. Rachel feels a flash of guilt that she's not with them, but she feels as if this is something she needs to do, and she won't be able to rest until she does. She won't be able to be present and properly there for Quinn if she doesn't have this conversation.

Whatever it is.

"Daddy," she says from the study's doorway, hating this room more and more every time she's in it.

LeRoy doesn't hear her the first time, so she just walks into the room and stands in front of the desk and stares at him, unsure if she actually recognises him in this moment. He looks haggard, defeated, and Rachel feels slightly sorry for him.

But she's still angry.

God, she can barely look at him.

"You were wrong," she says.

LeRoy breathes out slowly, deflating almost, as he looks up at her. "I was," he agrees, and he doesn't need her to explain what she's even talking about. "I was wrong," he repeats. "I know that now."

Rachel frowns, slightly thrown by the man's apathy. It's a far cry from his previous justifications. "Why now?"

LeRoy sits back, his eyes closing. "Your father asked me to tell him why you and I were... tense," he explains. "So, I did."

Rachel blinks, clearly not expecting to hear that. "You did?"

"I told him about what I told you when you were still on the fence about when and how to leave, and whether you should let Quinn go with you. I told him about the plane ticket, and I told him about the letters I kept from them and from Quinn. I - I told him everything, Rachel, and I hoped he would understand, but - "

"He didn't," she finishes for him. "Of course, he didn't."

"I was wrong."

Rachel feels a little off-kilter.

Okay, a lot off-kilter.

She drops down into a chair and sighs. "This is all so fucking fucked up," she says, channelling Santana and, a beat later, they both burst out laughing.

Hysterically.

Rachel's laughter turns to choked sobs within seconds, and then her entire body is shaking from the force of her tears, because everything is wrong and nothing is right and she was maybe pregnant but she's not and her manager is an ass and her ex-boyfriend is a dick and she's in love with a woman she's not sure she can ever truly be with if she still wants to hit the heights she's dreamt of in her career.

She's just so tired, and she's hit by that feeling that all she wants to do is go home.

But, she's home, is she not?

No.

Home is...

Home is Quinn.

"Daddy," she says, wiping at her eyes.

"Sweetheart?"

"Was it worth it?"

"I don't think I'm the one who can answer that," he says, sighing. "I'm on this end, and you're on the other. I suspect we both have regrets."

She presses her lips together, thoughtful. "It's not worth it," she finally says, practically declaring it as gospel. "It's not."

LeRoy nods, maybe in agreement, she doesn't know.

And, really, there's nothing more for either of them to say.

While Rachel has every intention of returning to the hospital when she leaves the house, she doesn't. She doesn't think she's ready to deal with all of it yet, and she needs to do something more before she deems herself worthy of trying to fix everything.

If that's really what she wants.

So, instead, she goes back to the hotel.

Her brain hasn't been able to switch off for endless minutes, hours, and she wonders just what will allow that to happen. She thinks maybe returning to New York will help her with her priorities, as Kurt claims.

It'll definitely make it more difficult for her to question said priorities.

She's not stupid enough to throw away her career, but she recognises that it's probably going to take a hit whatever she decides to do. She'll never be able to stay in Lima, so she'll have to go back at some point. And then what?

What happens then?

Where does Quinn fit in?

Does she fit in?

Would she even want to?

Rachel throws herself onto the bed and screams into her pillow. She feels as if she's eighteen years old again, going through all these same scenarios, wondering about her life and decisions and love. She drew up lists back then, anything to try to help her make a decision...

That she, ultimately, regrets.

Sort of.

Maybe.

Sometimes.

Today, and yesterday, but what about tomorrow?

It would be so easy, she thinks, as she rolls over onto her back. It would be so easy to pack up her things, check out of the hotel, drive to Columbus, get onto a plane for New York, and chalk this all up to potential pregnancy panic.

It would be so simple.

She could just leave, and that would be that. It would be like she never even came back. She wouldn't even have to say goodbye, and they could all go on hating her. She thinks she could live with that. They all already have their own lives, and it's ten years too late.

The tears surprise her, but the sudden ache in her chest definitely doesn't.

Suddenly, it doesn't feel as if she'll be able to breathe properly again.

Won't even want to.

Which, really, decides everything for her.

Rachel gets up once more, grabs her bag, the plane ticket, and then drives to Columbus.

It's later, much later, that Quinn truly considers that Rachel isn't coming back.

It's been a whirlwind of a day, and her heart hasn't slowed down since Mia opened her eyes and cried out for her. She vaguely recalls Rachel leaving the room and, while she wishes she could have done more to support the brunette during the aftermath of the results, Quinn won't apologise for making Mia her focus.

At the time, Quinn acknowledged Rachel wanting to give them some privacy, and she probably needed a moment as well.

But, now...

Now, Quinn isn't so sure, and she hates that Rachel can still do this to her.

"She's coming back."

Quinn doesn't even look away from where she's watching Mia sleep when she hears Santana's voice.

"She is. I know she is."

"You can't know that," Quinn says, the forefinger of her left hand drawing gentle circles on the inside of Mia's uninjured wrist. She's been in and out of consciousness all day, but she's coherent and smiling, and Quinn doesn't think she's going to let her out of her sight ever again.

She doesn't even care what Cooper says about it.

Okay.

She does.

There's a part of her that wants to be angry with him. She wants to yell and rage at him and accuse him of being a terrible father for letting this happen to their baby girl, but she knows it will change nothing. It was an accident.

Quinn knows terrible fathers, and Cooper is not one of them. Just looking at his devastation when they arrived at the hospital proves that much, and Quinn never wants to see that expression on his face ever again. She loved him once.

She loved Rachel once, too, but she's only ever managed to love one of them endlessly.

They both hurt her in their own ways and, really, Quinn can't be sure she's forgiven either of them. With Rachel, it was unexpected but, with Cooper, a part of her felt it was coming. She can't really explain that, but she wasn't as surprised and heartbroken as she should have been. Pissed, yes. Enraged, definitely, but there was a part of that accepted it long before she had the truth of his infidelity confirmed.

Maybe it's just men.

She expects them to disappoint her.

Take LeRoy.

"I do know that," Santana counters, interrupting Quinn's thoughts. "There's no way she's ducking out now. She loves you, Quinn."

"She loved me back then, too," Quinn points out. "It doesn't mean anything when the stars are shining brighter elsewhere, San. I've learned that truth, and I know you have too."

Santana doesn't have a response for that, and she just rests a hand on Quinn's shoulder in silent solidarity. After a moment, she asks, "How is Mini-Q?"

"She's doing well," Quinn immediately answers, a smile blooming across her face. "Really well, actually. The doctors were even surprised."

"Are you?"

"Definitely not," she says proudly. "My kid is a fighter."

Santana chuckles softly, keeping her volume down. "She learns from the best of them, I suppose."

Quinn offers her a smile that seems a little too sad.

"She's coming back," Santana repeats.

Quinn can't bring herself to believe her, and they both know it.

When Quinn was younger, she liked to pretend she was somebody completely different. She would lie in bed late at night and imagine she was someone else; someone with a kind family; someone worth caring about. She used to imagine she had a pet dog named Sunday that she would play with on the front lawn with the sprinklers going and her parents sitting on the front porch, watching her in delight as they sipped lemonade.

It was childish, she quickly learned, to dream of such things.

She didn't deserve them.

It took her years to deem herself remotely worthy of a good life, and love and kindness and care. She still struggles with it from time to time - she's been knocked a few times - but Mia has always helped her keep her thoughts in check. Mia could never love someone who wasn't worthy of it, and that makes all the difference.

Her little girl will always be the difference.

"Are you sure you don't want to come home with us?"

Quinn sighs as she follows Noah and Leslie out of Mia's room, needing to stretch her legs. "I'm sure, Les," she says, feeling as if she's saying it for the hundredth time.

"But, you haven't been home in hours, Quinn," Leslie argues. "Mia is out of the woods. You should get some sleep."

"I know," Quinn says, resisting the urge to snap. She is exhausted and highly emotional, but she can't bring herself to leave her daughter. Not tonight. Not ever. "I just - I have to be here tonight," she says. "I don't expect you to understand it, because I don't myself, but I can't just leave. I can't. Not yet."

Leslie waits a beat before she nods, her hand reaching out to touch Quinn's forearm. "Okay," she says, almost whispering. "At least let me buy you a coffee before we go. You look like a zombie."

Quinn chuckles tiredly. "Well, thank you."

"You're welcome."

Noah throws an arm over Quinn's shoulders as they walk, and she leans into him while her left hand easily slips into Leslie's right. She doesn't even want to think about how she would have handled all of this without them today. All of them. Finn, Carole, Mike and Tina also stopped by during the day, which only added to her perilous emotional state. Her entire family has been so supportive, and it brings tears to her eyes whenever she thinks about it a little too hard.

Which is what she does as she sips at her coffee.

It's scorching hot and strong enough to be bitter, but it's working wonders as she accompanies Noah and Leslie to the main entrance to the hospital. The walk, itself, helps, but she's itching to get back to Mia. She knows she would be miserable if she even considered going home for an extended period of time and, while she recognises the need for a shower and a fresh change of clothes, none of that seems even remotely important in this moment.

Nothing is more important than Mia.

Quinn wouldn't say she's entirely surprised by what she finds when she makes it back to Mia's room, but she does stop short at the sight before her. It's almost deja vu from this morning - was that only this morning? - to find none other than Rachel Berry standing over Mia, an unreadable expression on her face.

Quinn just stands for a moment, taking in the sight with mixed emotions.

Rachel's shoulders drop at some point, and she gently tucks Mia's stuffed lamb under the covers, which forces an unexpected smile onto Quinn's face. She doesn't know if she should be mad at Rachel for being gone the entire day and making her think she was never coming back, or if she should just be grateful she's here at all.

In the end, Quinn does neither.

"Hey," the blonde says, and Rachel almost jumps out of her skin.

"You're here," Rachel says, a hand pressed over her chest.

"So are you."

Rachel lets out a sigh, and then turns to face Quinn as she approaches the bed. "I wanted to see her," she admits softly. "I wanted to see you."

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "We've been here all day."

Rachel looks to the side for a moment. "There were a few things I needed to take care of," she starts.

"What things?"

"Daddy, for starters," she says, scowling slightly at the mention of him. "Jesse as well. Kurt. My tour. My life."

"And you managed to do that all in one day?"

Rachel smiles sadly. "Just the important things," she says. "Dad knows everything. Daddy told him."

Quinn blinks. "Oh?"

"I was surprised, too," she says, wringing her fingers together. "I don't know what happens now, but I think it's best if we have everything out in the open, right?"

"Right."

Rachel swallows. "Jesse and I are officially done," she says. "He was under the impression that the lack of baby would make me change my mind, but he was mistaken. The lack of baby has merely solidified my desire to have one, some day, in the future, and that's never going to happen with him."

Quinn just listens in silence, realising that these are all things that Rachel needs to say.

"I don't want him," she says. "I - I don't want that life being with him would give me. I was wrong to go looking for fulfilment that way. I don't need some leading man. I don't need anyone. But I - " she stops, licking her lips. "But I want."

Quinn recognises this moment is important, and she forces herself to maintain eye contact.

"I told Kurt to postpone my tour," she says. "For the summer. I - I don't have to be back in New York until I have to start preparations and, save for a few appearances here and there, I don't have to leave Lima at all, and I don't want to. I don't want to go anywhere, Quinn. I want to be right here. With you. With Mia. With our family. I want this. I've always wanted this, but I forced myself not to."

Quinn isn't even sure she's breathing.

"You asked me what I want, and now I know," Rachel says. "I just need to know if, well, you'll have me. Because you can, and I promise to do everything in my power to make this work the way I should have ten years ago."

Quinn just stares at her, suddenly unsure what to say.

Rachel tells herself she's going to wait as long as Quinn needs, but she grows antsy far too quickly, and her heart is thundering in her chest.

In the end, Quinn moves first, her feet moving her forward, closer to Rachel. "You talk a lot," she says.

Rachel blinks in surprise. "I had a lot to say."

"It seems you did."

"What are you thinking?"

"This isn't some drastic, hasty decision?"

Rachel shakes her head. "No, it's not," she says, and she sounds so sure. "There's nothing drastic about it. It just is."

"You're staying?"

"If you'll have me."

"You want to be here, with me and Mia and our crazy family?"

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"You really think we could make you happy?"

"You already do."

"You're sure this is what you want?"

"I'm sure," she confirms. "What do you want?"

Slowly, ever so slowly, Quinn slides her hands around Rachel's back and draws the smaller woman into a loose embrace. "This," she says softly, almost as if it's a secret. She just looks at Rachel for the longest time, the great big world falling to nothing.

"We can have this," Rachel whispers.

"We can," Quinn agrees, her eyes wide with wonder. "I have you here, and Mia, and my family, and I need nothing more and nothing less."

This time, when they kiss, it's less painful.

Still gentle and slow, but carrying meaning enough to make them both cry.

It's a sealing of sort, their collective fate being decided.

There's no going back now.

Somehow, this time, they're going to make it work.

Well, they're going to try.

They deserve that much, at least.

It'll be difficult, because they lead separate lives, and there's just so much to work through.

But, they're both going to work for it, this time, because they both want it.

Rachel wants this.

Quinn. Mia. Family.

This family.

A new family.

She wants all of it.

When they pull apart, Quinn's smile is lazy and happy, and the sight of it reaches deep into Rachel's soul. "Well, maybe I could use more of that," Quinn confesses, trying to ease the heaviness of this moment.

"Funny that," Rachel chimes; "I think I might just be the person to help with that."

"Yeah?"

"I love you, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn lets out a shaky breath, her eyes widening in slight disbelief. "Yeah?"

"So much."

Quinn kisses her again, her eyes closing and her heart singing. "I don't know what happens now."

"I don't even care."

Quinn giggles. Like, properly giggles. "We'll figure it out," she says.

"Because now we can."

"Because we are - we are more - "

Rachel kisses her once more, holding onto this moment for as long as she possibly can, before they're going to have to face the world. "Together."

Fin

AN: Believe it or not, when I initially started this story, it was supposed to be mostly fluff, with a side of angst, maybe. Obviously, that didn't happen, but I still hope you enjoyed it. It's kind of a holiday fic, so I want to wish you all a safe and joyful holiday season. Thank you for reading!