Part Three

Life in the City

The next few hours are some the most excruciating of Rachel's adult life. She really doesn't know what level of crazy she would have reached if Santana didn't take control of the situation and use her own contacts to make sure everyone was on alert for two young girls, travelling together towards Columbus, Ohio.

The alert, they'll all come to realise later, is where it all falls to pieces.

The police in Pennsylvania and the police in Ohio receive pictures of both girls, along with their names, last known whereabouts and what they are believed to be wearing. The situation is broadcast over all the police communications to be on the lookout for the girls.

This, again, is where it all goes wrong.

Rachel realises they're several hours behind Charlie, and even further behind their daughters, and she doesn't quite know what to expect when she, Santana and Brittany finally land in Columbus on the earliest flight they could find. Rachel paid top dollar for the seats, but that's barely a worry now. She just needs to see her daughter, and she needs to know why Charlie was acting so... weird on the phone.

"She's hiding something, definitely," Santana rants as she drives them from Columbus to Lima at a breakneck speed. Neither Rachel or Brittany is willing to tell her slow down, so they just leave her be, even though Rachel will probably haunt her forever if they end up dying on this road. "I mean, did I call it or what? I told you she was trouble, Berry, but did you listen? No, you didn't. Same with that man-baby you decided was a good idea to marry. You've always been so fucking stubborn."

Rachel ignores her verbal spiel in favour of trying Charlie's phone again. Nothing. She calls the local police department, only to be put on hold. The officer sounds frazzled, as if he's dealing with a very real situation, and she almost feels sorry for him until she remembers that her ten-year-old is missing.

Technically.

Well, Rachel thinks as they get closer to her childhood hometown, if there was ever one way to bring her back to Lima, this is definitely the way to do it. In her blind panic, she didn't really allow herself to come to terms with the idea that she would be returning to her hometown for the first time since she left on that train for New York following graduation, determined never to look back again.

She tries not to think about that too much, but she can't really help it.

Lima is Quinn, and Quinn is... no.

No.

Not now.

Not today.

"Maybe she's some kind of retired international spy," Brittany offers when Santana's ranting has ceased. "Or an assassin. That would be so cool."

Sometimes, Rachel wishes she could see the world the way Brittany does, but today is not that day. Today, she's wound so tightly that she's bound to reach her breaking point before they even get to their destination. The last thing she wants to do is snap at her best friends, so she bites harshly at the inside of her cheek until she can taste blood.

It helps.

"Go to my parents' house first," Rachel says as they're entering Lima. It doesn't even look as if anything has changed. Still, she can't help her shudder when they drive past the accident site that claimed three lives, and she doesn't miss the way Santana purposefully looks away. They're all still so haunted by it. "I don't know why they're not answering the house phone. Even their cells aren't going through."

They learn why just moments later when Santana turns into the street on which Rachel grew up and -

And -

The house is gone.

Completely.

The entire house. Blown up, from the looks of things. There's debris everywhere and dozens of law enforcement officials running around. There are flashing lights and trucks and vans and people are yelling and screaming and the house is gone.

Disappeared.

It takes far too long for the reality of the situation to sink in for Rachel and, when it does, she's scrambling to get out of the car and running towards where her house used to be. Her vision is blurry from her tears, and she's about to break through the yellow tape when strong arms make a grab for her waist, halting her progress.

"Ma'am, you can't go in there," the voice belonging to the body behind her says.

Rachel thinks she must say something along the lines of that's my house or where are my parents? because she gets carted towards an older man who seems to be in charge of the scene. He's distracted by something when Rachel is presented to him and he's about to question her identity when Santana suddenly appears at her side, face blank and Rachel's phone clutched in her hand.

"What?" Rachel asks, and her voice doesn't even sound as if it's her own.

Santana silently hands her the phone, and Rachel hesitantly brings it up to her ear.

"Hello."

"Is this Rachel Weston?"

"Speaking."

"I'm calling from Lima General. We have your daughter here."

Rachel can't even bring herself to breathe.

"She's unharmed, if a little traumatised," the woman says. "How soon can you get here?"

"Soon," is all her brain thinks to say, and then she gives the phone back to Santana. "We - we have to go to the hospital." She looks to the man standing in front of her, who is now eyeing her curiously. "Were there any people in that house?" she asks, because she needs to know. Where are her fathers?

"At this point, it's still unclear," he admits, but it sounds as if he's lying to her, and she really doesn't want to think about what that could possibly mean. "Do you have any idea why anyone would target you or your parents?"

Rachel blinks. "Someone targeted them?"

"This is no accident," the man says, and he looks confused by that truth, because this kind of thing does not happen in little old Lima. Another officer taps him on the shoulder then, and he turns away. Rachel hears the man say Marshall Williams is on the line for you, Sir. He has information you need to know on the situation.

The man turns back to Rachel, and she tries her best not to show she recognises the name Marshall Williams. "You said you're going to the hospital?"

"Yes. My - my daughter, she's - "

"Do you require an escort?"

And, Rachel just nods because she honestly doesn't know if her own legs can realistically carry her wherever she needs to go.

"Mommy!"

Rachel wouldn't even be able to explain the sudden relief that floods her the moment she hears that voice, her entire body whipping around just in time to catch Lily as she throws her entire self at Rachel. Rachel barely has a chance to get a good look at her before she's squeezing the girl with everything she has. She feels Santana and Brittany wrap their own arms around them, and she's never been more grateful for this village helping her raise her daughter.

"Baby," Rachel says, moving to release Lily so she can see her properly. There's a bit of soot on her left cheek, her hair is a right mess and she's got dust on her clothes. "Sweetheart, what on earth happened?"

Lily sucks in a deep breath, and then says, "Me and Beth went to Grandpas' house, but they weren't there, so we were just going to wait, but then these big men arrived with these big guns and they tied us up inside the house and they kept asking Beth where her grandfather was, but Beth's never even met her grandfather, so they told Beth to call her mommy, so her mommy came, and she's so pretty, Mommy, but then they started asking her questions about her father and she didn't know, and she tried to make the men let us go because we're just kids." She pauses to take another breath. "Beth's mommy told us to close our eyes, so we did. Then there were all these sounds, because she was fighting them, Mommy, like Wonder Woman, and then Beth's mommy was untying us and then telling us to run as fast as we possibly could, so we did, but then she wasn't behind us, and then - " she stops, her voice catching. "Then the house exploded."

And then she bursts into tears, as if the reality of what's just happened to her is just now hitting her, and Rachel wraps her arms around her body, determined never to let her go ever again. She doesn't even care. She's never letting Lily out of her sight for the rest of her life.

They're still locked in a tight embrace when a man dressed in some kind of uniform emerges from a corridor, his face set and serious. He looks displeased and concerned and even a little disappointed. His eyes settle on Rachel and something happens to his expression that she can't quite read.

"Rachel Weston?" he asks, and Rachel nods, carefully rising while keeping hold of Lily, who has legs and arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders respectively. "My name is U.S. Marshall Jethro Williams," he says. "Might I have a word with you in private?"

Rachel glances down at Lily and then looks back at the man. "Is it about Charlie?"

He nods, solemn.

Rachel clenches her jaw, and then looks at Lily again. "Sweetheart, I'm going to give you to Aunt Santana, okay? Mommy has to talk to this man about Beth's mommy, okay?"

Lily blinks. "Is she dead?"

Rachel just shakes her head, and then passes Lily to Santana without saying a word because, God, she doesn't know what she'll do if the actual answer to that question is yes. In silence, she follows behind the Marshall, and she feels the weight of the situation truly begin to settle on her.

The first thing he says when they're safely away from prying ears is, "She's not dead," and Rachel breathes out in relief. "It's one thing she made sure I would tell you. She - she wouldn't want you to go through that again."

Rachel frowns, not quite following.

He clears his throat. "She managed to get into the basement before the bomb went off," he explains, as if Charlie was somehow familiar with the house. He shakes his head. "I think you've managed to figure out that Charlie... isn't exactly who she said she is."

She nods, having gathered that much, at least. She's not a complete idiot, no matter what Santana says.

"She's been part of the Witness Protection Program for twelve years now," he says, sounding almost proud. "She managed to cultivate a life for herself, her daughter and her mother until, well, Beth decided to use her puppy-dog eyes to convince her going to camp in Pennsylvania was a good idea, and now we're here."

"Where exactly are we?"

He clenches his jaw. "She got sloppy," he says, and now he sounds disappointed. "With Beth, and with you." He licks his lips. "She fell in love, and it almost got her killed. It almost got Beth killed. And Lily."

Rachel tenses at the mention of her daughter.

"I'm sorry," he says. "She's sorry."

And, suddenly, Rachel just knows. "We're never going to hear from them again, are we?"

Now, he looks pained. "I'm afraid not," he says. "When we leave here, it will be as if Charlotte and Beth Green never existed."

Rachel tries her best not to react, but she can't quite manage it, and she suddenly hates this man with his pitying eyes and his sympathy. "What am I supposed to tell Lily?"

"That's your prerogative," he says. "Regardless, her friendship with Beth will not continue."

Rachel keeps her breathing steady. "Do I at least get to see her?" she asks, and her voice is so low. "Just once?"

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

"They're already gone, aren't they?"

"I'm sorry," he says again, and it looks as if he truly means it.

Rachel's heart aches in a way it hasn't in years. She doesn't know what's worse: knowing Charlie is out there and not being able to get to her, or knowing she's gone from the world. "Do you happen to know where my parents are?" she asks, because she needs to focus on something else.

"I believe they're at a function being held in Columbus," he says. "They should be returning this evening."

"To what?" she asks bitterly. "Their house is gone, and it's Charlie's fault." It's not, she knows, but she's angry and hurt and heartsore, and she needs someone to blame.

"She feels the same way," he says, and there's a lilt of amusement in his tone, as if he's a father who understands his child far too well. "Which is why she's offered to pay for the repairs, or the purchase of a new home. She understands nothing can make up for the sentimental value, but this is all she can offer."

"I don't want her money," Rachel snaps. "My daughter almost died. What lump sum would she have offered then?"

He suddenly looks exhausted. "The lump sum, Mrs Weston, would have been her life," he says, and Rachel can't even breathe. "She made you a promise, didn't she? Your daughter is safe. She did everything she could to make sure she made it home, blindly walking into a hostile situation with the sole purpose of keeping your children safe." He looks away for a moment. "Believe me when I say I wish I could offer you more, but their safety is the most important thing. I hope you can understand that."

Rachel doesn't want to, but she still does understand. "What about us?"

"You were a means to an end," he says, and it stings. "All they know is Beth went to a house in Lima, a town where her grandfather once lived, and now that house no longer exists. You are safe. You all are." It's the last thing he says, and she'll spend years wishing she'd managed to hold it together enough to ask him all the questions that will plague her for many, many nights

But, then, he's gone, and so is Charlie, and Rachel knows this isn't the time to break down.

What it is time for, though, is the truth.

So, when she returns to her family and Santana asks, "Is she dead?" Rachel says yes because Charlotte Dianna Green well and truly is.

Even though Rachel knows Charlie's email address is probably inactive, she still tries to send an email. It bounces back, of course. Her phone is also disconnected and, yeah, it's as if Charlie never existed.

Once Rachel's anger has simmered down, she has many regrets.

But, telling them all that Charlie didn't survive is not one of them. It's really the only explanation she can give for the fact Beth has disappeared somewhere in the world with her grieving grandmother where Lily is concerned. Rachel tells Santana and Brittany and her fathers that Charlie was in the Witness Protection Program, and the people who were looking for her family managed to find them the moment it was announced Beth Green crossed into Ohio, setting off some kind of alerts with the people who, apparently, hold twelve years worth of grudges.

It takes Rachel a week to be able to leave Lima with her daughter and best friends, after she's fielded her fathers' questions, helped them file for their insurance and gone through many a property listings in the hope of finding them a new home, only for them to mention their desire to leave Lima, Ohio. She tries and fails to keep the relief off her face. Never having to return to that place is the best gift they could ever give her.

For now, they're staying in one of the guest rooms at Rachel's New York apartment, and she's grateful for the help, because Lily's nightmares start just days after they return home. It isn't exactly a surprise, and Rachel wastes no time in sending her to a trauma counsellor. Rachel sees her own therapist to help her cope, but it's still months before she can even begin to forgive Charlie, and then another few months to understand her.

Lily, ever resilient, recovers quite swiftly, and they barely even talk about that time of their lives, which is why is catches her completely off guard when Lily is twelve years old and very seriously says, "I killed her, didn't I?"

Rachel almost drops the cup in her hands. "What?"

"Beth's Mom," she says, looking somewhat detached. "If I hadn't convinced Beth to come to Ohio with me, none of it would have happened, and - " she stops, her voice catching on a sob, and Rachel rushes towards her, wrapping her in a hug that Rachel thinks she needs more than Lily does.

This is the moment Rachel knows Lily will never forgive her for the lie. She will never accept that Rachel had no choice but to tell a distraught, ten-year-old that she would never see Beth again because Beth's mother died... trying to protect them.

God.

She's a terrible mother.

Rachel cries with Lily for several hours, and then they're both back in therapy. It takes longer this time around, but Lily finally accepts that fate and destiny both played parts in what happened, and it's never been her fault. What happened, happened, and they're all learning to live with it.

Things have just managed to settle after Lily's thirteenth birthday, when Rachel's entire world tilts on its axis the second Lily very casually asks, "Mom, why didn't you tell me you went to school with Beth's mom?"

Rachel freezes. "What?"

Lily must sense she's said something wrong, because she very carefully slides across the carpet with one of the yearbooks Santana brought around because Brittany told me to get rid of some of this shit before the baby arrives, and I thought you'd want it, because we all know you're a sentimental asshole. Rachel teased her about wanting to get as many swear words out of her system before she had little ears around.

"Look," Lily says, climbing onto the couch beside her mother. "I don't really understand, because that's not her name, but that is definitely Beth's mom. I saw her with my own eyes."

And, when Rachel wills herself to look, Lily is pointing at a picture of Quinn Fabray.

Oh.

Oh.

Rachel feels all the air leave her body in one fell swoop because, God, everything suddenly makes so much more sense and, oh my God, Rachel fell in love with Quinn twice. She almost laughs at the absurdity of it all, because she also lost Quinn twice.

"Mom?" Lily questions. "Are you okay?"

Rachel just drags her into a hug and kisses the top of her head. "Sweetheart, I realise this must all be a little confusing for you, but I'm going to need you to keep this just between the two of us. Do you think you could do that for me?"

Lily looks unsure for a moment, but she eventually nods. "Okay, Mom."

One day, she knows she'll have to tell the truth about Charlie, and about Quinn, but today isn't that day.

That day, apparently, happens when Lily is fifteen and Rachel's father calls her from somewhere in Columbus, where he's attending a conference, to tell her that Russell Fabray just testified in a large RICO case against the investment firm he used to work for, and a lot of powerful men are going to be spending the rest of their lives in jail, as a result.

The news should be significant, but it's not, because it changes very little.

The news that is and does, is that Russell Fabray is found dead in his hotel room in Las Vegas after refusing further protection the following week, and that is news that changes far too much for Rachel to compute realistically in one sitting. It also doesn't help her that Jethro Williams calls her the next day and says, "They're safe, and they're free."

It's a truth that she's unsure what to do with, but she still gathers her best friends and daughter and explains everything as best she knows it. Lily screams some rather unsavoury things, and then storms off towards her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Kurt sits, stunned.

Brittany beams, as if she'd known the entire time - which, given Brittany, isn't wildly an inaccurate thought - and Santana just looks rather shocked.

"Wait," Santana says. "What do you mean when you say you fell for her twice?"

Rachel blinks. "What?" Because, of course, that's the part on which Santana is going to pick up.

"Holy shit," she says. "You totally had the hots for Fabray when we were in high school."

"I hardly believe that's the most important part of what I've just told you," Rachel says, indignant. "Didn't you hear what I said? Quinn is alive. Quinn is alive, and so is her baby. Her daughter. Noah's daughter."

That gets a reaction, and Santana's eyes fill with tears.

Kurt lets out a chocked sound. "He's - he's hated himself every single day for this," he says, referring to Finn.

"The car accident was, apparently, an attempt to grab hold of Quinn to use her as leverage against her father," Rachel explains what Jethro ended up telling her. "Noah died trying to protect her and the baby. He's their hero. She's never forgotten."

Santana clears her throat. "Where are they now?"

"D.C."

Santana lets out a slow breath. "What happens now?"

"I don't know."

It's two weeks later when she receives it, and her heart jumps right into her throat, bombarding all her other senses, and she actually has to step out of the room to take a moment to compose herself. It's been a trying two weeks, with Lily as mad at her as possible, as well as dealing with her own constant debate about how to move forward with what she now knows.

To: rachel_weston1993
From: jessicaelisegrant
Subject: Hi.
Date: 23 November 2028

Dear Rachel,

I should probably admit that I've been drafting this particular email for the past five years, give or take. There's always been so much I wanted to tell you, but it all sounded like complete horse shit when I read over it last week. Excuses are probably not what you want, but they're all I have. Excuses that aren't even my own. I wish I had more to offer, but I don't. Just myself, I'm afraid.

Right now, my name is Jessica Elise Grant. I go by Jess. I'm thirty-four years old. I work as a paediatric and neo-natal surgeon at Children's National Medical Centre in Washington D.C. I have a daughter. Her name is Elle, and she's a senior in high school. I have a mother, who works as a real estate agent because she claims she gets bored during the day. We have a dog, a labrador, named Ash. He's a terror, sometimes, but he's lovely. I'm single, and I'm gay. I am still in love with you.

Five years ago, my name was Charlotte Dianna Green. I was twenty-nine years old and working towards becoming a paediatric surgeon at Yale New Haven Children's Hospital in Connecticut. My daughter's name was Beth. She was twelve years old. We lived with my mother, who took up knitting as a way to combat her daily boredom. We had two goldfish, Pete and Andre, who were really the perfect pets to have when you barely sleep as it is. I was single, gay and I was in love with you.

Seventeen years ago, my name was Lucy Quinn Fabray and I lived in a tired little town called Lima, Ohio. I was seventeen years old and, well, I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I was pregnant, homeless, lost in all the worst ways and hopeless. All I knew was I was going to have a baby, and everything after that was a mystery to me. I did not live with my mother. I didn't have any pets. I think I was single (that last day in Lima is sometimes all a blur of screaming and crying and blood and men in uniforms and my mother telling me she was sorry for ever letting me go). I think I was gay. I was in love with you.

There are many, many years between then and now, and I would like to tell you about them, if you'll let me. The people I've met, the experiences I've had, the days I've wanted to crawl into a tiny ball and forget the world, the feeling of being separated from everything and everyone you know, the terror of never knowing if the new person in your life is going to try to take you away, the pain of having to explain to my daughter that she can never see her friends again, the absolute fear of facing down three armed men with two innocent girls at my back, the horror of realising I would never be able to see you again, the utter heartbreak of figuring out who you were and that I would have to hurt you all over again, the hurt of knowing you probably hate me, the sorrow for which I would never be able to apologise to you in person, and the sheer feeling of being so stupidly in love that nobody has ever come close in comparison.

It's a lot to ask, I know, but I'm still asking. Please.

If it's too much, I understand.

If it's too much for us, I promise I will understand. But, Elle asked that I pass on her number for Lily. I don't know what she's been told, but Elle's always missed her first true friend. If that's also something that won't be, we'll both understand. You learn to, when you live the lives we've been living. I've attached my own number as well, just in case. Here's hoping, I guess.

Hope you're well. Happy Thanksgiving.

Kind regards,
Jess

P.S. That pesky feeling has never quite managed to disappear. I hope you've had better luck than I have.

It's a lot and not nearly enough, and Rachel has absolutely no idea how she's supposed to reply. Does she even have to? She wants to, she knows, but she doesn't think she's truly ready for the can of worms she would be opening if she did.

She's never truly been able to escape Quinn Fabray, and, if it weren't so heartbreaking, she would find in hilarious.

What she does decide is that the answer to what Quinn/Charlie/Jess is asking is not now.

It's the only thing of which she's actually sure.

Jess emails again on Rachel's birthday, just a short one, wishing her a good day and encouraging her to stay warm during the freezing New York temperatures. If Rachel were to be honest, she would have to admit this one is even worse than the first one, though she wouldn't be able to explain why.

She cares.

She remembers.

It's all too much, and Rachel has to excuse herself from the conversation she's having with Kurt and another fashion designer she's somewhat friendly with, and then disappears into her bedroom, just so she can breathe. The party was her girlfriend's idea, and Rachel didn't quite have a valid enough excuse to refuse it. She's never told Sophie about Quinn or Charlie, and she certainly hasn't mentioned Jess. Right now, Sophie thinks Lily's mad at her because of some kind of teenage rebellion.

It's so much deeper than that.

This is seventeen years deep, and Rachel doesn't know what she's supposed to do.

She wants.

She's bound to get hurt here, she knows. She also feels guilty keeping this from her friends. And from Lily. Her daughter would hate her even more if she found out Rachel has been sitting on this for almost a month.

This email, though, this is Quinn at her finest. Understated but immersive. She's nowhere and everywhere at the same time, and Rachel both hates and loves her for it, because this is the email that breaks her.

Destroys her.

It's Santana who finds her forty-two minutes later, curled up on the floor of her closet, hidden away from people who wouldn't know where to look for her. Unfortunately, the Latina definitely knows. She's found her there far too many times.

"You know, you're missing a banging party out there," Santana says as she practically drops herself to the floor and groans. "God, I'm too fucking old for this."

"You're just tired after chasing your two-year-old around like the little whipped Mama you are."

"Shut up."

Rachel wipes at her eyes, and she settles into the crook of Santana's arm when the Latina offers up the space. The silence that follows is also comforting, and it lulls her into the confession that's been eating away at her. "Quinn emailed me."

Santana doesn't react beyond pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes. "What did she have to say?"

Rachel just pulls up the message thread on her phone and hands it to her, not trusting herself to be able to explain, anyway. She just sits in silence as Santana reads, and then still doesn't say anything when Santana sets the phone facedown on the carpet.

"Well."

Rachel almost smiles.

"My gaydar always pinged with that one, you know," she says, and then swallows nervously. Guiltily. "I didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"How she felt about you," Santana whispers. "It seemed cruel to tell you, after everything that happened. You were already struggling so much, and I didn't know if it would help or make things worse to know."

Rachel shifts away from her. "To know," she echoes. "That she loved me when we were in high school, and we ended up breaking each other's hearts?"

"Yes."

And, Rachel is back to crying. Sobbing, really. She's turning thirty-five and it's supposed to be a happy day, but all she can really recall is the angel that is Quinn Fabray walking down that corridor; into the light and out of her life.

But, now, she wants back in, and Rachel wants.

She wants so much.

"What are you going to do?" Santana asks.

Rachel audibly swallows. "Well, first, I'm going to tell Lily," she says, and that's really the part that terrifies her the most.

"Then?"

Rachel blinks. "I'll have to talk to Sophie," she says, and she feels a twinge of guilt and hurt at the idea of ending the relationship. "Though, it does seem a bit cruel to do so during the holidays."

"She's an atheist. I think she'll survive."

Rachel does smile this time. "You really don't like her, do you?"

Santana mutters something under her breath, and then says, "While not as close as New Haven, D.C. isn't exactly across the country, you know," with a serious expression.

"I know."

.

By the time Rachel does contact Jess, it's already halfway through January. She's also newly single and her daughter is finally talking to her again. She's probably going to be in the best place she possibly can be after all the truth bombs that have been dropped on her in the past few months.

Bombs.

Probably too soon for that.

Rachel doesn't bother with email this time around. She knows to whom she's talking, and so does the person on the other end of the line. She's also slightly impatient, and she wants immediate contact. So, she sends a text.

Rachel: I don't know what neo-natal means.

It's probably not the most graceful way to begin a conversation, but inane pleasantries just seem unnecessary and tiresome. She's fine but also not fine, and she doesn't want to be greeting this woman who's been on her mind in various forms since she was fourteen years old.

Anyway.

The reply comes nineteen minutes later, and Rachel is, once again, hit by that childish feeling of actually talking her crush. God, she's supposed to have outgrown this.

Jess: It means I operate on babies while they're still in the womb.

Rachel: Wow.

And she means it.

Jess: I think it's pretty neat myself, yip.

Rachel: You're actually such a dork. How did I not know that?

There are two long minutes to wait for a reply.

Jess: I have to confess that I've been a little jealous of my daughter the past few weeks, though I'll probably never admit it to her.

Rachel: Why?

She already knows the response.

Jess: She got to talk to Lily, and I didn't get to talk to you.

Rachel takes a slow, steadying breath.

Rachel: I had a few things to take care of, and, well, you have nothing to be jealous about anymore.

Jess: Oh?

Rachel: Hello. How are you? My name is Rachel Berry, and I have every intention of talking to you for the rest of my life.

Rachel: But, first, what do I call you?

Jess: Whatever you want.

Rachel smiles to herself.

Rachel: You're probably going to regret saying that, Buttercup.

Rachel calls Jess for the first time on her birthday.

Well, she calls on Quinn's birthday, which is just a few days before Valentine's Day, and the two of them spend almost six hours talking about absolute nonsense, before they spend two hours dissecting the future of their relationship.

In March, Jess casually mentions that Elle is looking at colleges in the New York area.

In April, Rachel very carefully alludes to the idea of her and Lily possibly making the first trip to Washington D.C. to watch Elle's graduation in two months' time.

In May, Jess sends Rachel an email with the various job offers she's received from hospitals in New York.

In June, Rachel and Lily fly to Washington D.C., and are met at the airport by two blondes, both of them smiling from ear to ear. It would be awkward, maybe, but it's not, and Rachel feels all the tension she didn't even know she had in her body just... relax. Quinn Fabray is standing right in front of her, and then she's in her arms, and nothing has ever felt this right in her entire life.

Rachel calls her Sugar Plum and Pumpkin Pie and Strawberry Shortcake the same way she's been doing through their endless texts and phone calls, her hand sliding into a pale one she's convinced was made for her, their fingers fitting together so perfectly for that to be anything other than true. She can hear their girls giggling together behind her, and she's never felt more content in all her years on earth. Every success, every award and accolade; none of them compares to this moment right here.

When this blonde woman smiles at her, her cheeks pink and her hazel eyes twinkling, before she looks over her shoulder and asks their teenage daughters what they want for dinner.

Pizza, apparently.

Rachel also gets kisses.

Lots and lots of kisses, though the girls don't need to know that.

In July, Quinn, Judy and Beth Fabray - and Ash - move to New York City, reclaiming the lives Russell Fabray's actions robbed them of. They occupy a small apartment in Manhattan, all of them accepting the pretence that Rachel and Quinn think it's too soon to be living together. Still, the apartment is largely Judy's selection because, in a few weeks, Beth will be off to college and it's likely Quinn will be spending most of her free time with Rachel, at Rachel's.

It's true.

There's more than enough space, and the two younger Fabray women already have an abundance of items in the house within the first week.

The second week is when Quinn is reintroduced and Beth is introduced to Brittany, Santana, Kurt, and his husband Blaine. They also meet Santana and Brittany's three year old son, Luca, and Kurt and Blaine's two children, Jonathan and Alicia.

The third week is when Quinn meets Rachel's fathers at an awkward 'meet the parents' dinner that turns out not to be that awkward when LeRoy and Quinn start talking about the latest developments in surgical techniques. Well.

Rachel's fathers also adore Beth when they meet, obviously, and it feels as if everything is finally clicking into place.

The fourth week includes an unplanned meeting between Quinn and Brody, who happened to want to come up to Rachel's apartment to fetch Lily himself, as if she hasn't been heading across the borough to visit him by herself since she was fourteen and presented a compelling PowerPoint presentation to get her parents to agree to it. Lily just rolls her eyes at him before rushing to fetch her duffel bag from her bedroom and leaving Quinn standing in the doorway, dressed casually with her glasses perched on her nose.

"So, you're the Quinn my daughter can't seem to stop talking about?"

Quinn tilts her head to the side. "Guilty."

Thankfully, Lily returns before he can say anything else, and she drags him away like the teenager she is, grumbling to herself about how utterly embarrassing and pathetic her father can be. When Quinn tells Rachel about it later over dinner, Quinn just laughs off her apology and teases her about having a type: douche.

"What does that make you?" Rachel asks, chucking a chickpea at her.

Quinn's smile turns soft and genuine when she says, "The exception," and they both know she always has been.

On the anniversary of the day Charlie first emailed Rachel, Quinn takes her out on a date that ends with them making love for the first time. As cliché as it sounds, it honestly feels as if every moment has led up to this one and, when Rachel finally has Quinn around her and inside her and everywhere, it's as if the Universe is saying you've suffered enough and here she is and don't mess it up.

At breakfast in the morning, Lily wrinkles her nose at them and says, "Gross."

Quinn kisses the top of her head, and looks at Beth. "And, you? Do you have something to add?"

Beth's smirk grows as she sips from her cup of coffee. "I think, out of all the names Rachel's tried on you, my favourite has to be god, yes, Quinn, yes, right here, sweet Jesus, yes, ye - " she jumps back with a squeal, spilling her coffee, just in time to avoid her mother's lunge.

She ends up grounded for a week that's really just one night.

In mid-August, Quinn takes Beth to Lima, Ohio, when she finally agrees to the offer Quinn made when the truth about who they are was finally allowed to come out. It's an emotional trip for them both, in that Quinn returns to the world she left behind too many years ago. They visit Noah's grave, before they visit Noah's mother, who has aged considerably from what Quinn remembers of her. She cries when Quinn explains how her son fought; how her son is the reason she and Beth are even still here; how her son has continued to live on in his daughter; how Quinn will never stop them from knowing each other.

Quinn leaves grandmother and granddaughter to cry together and pore over baby pictures of Noah and his little sister, who Quinn will be making plans with to have them all meet up. She drives to her old high school first, and it's a cathartic, nostalgic experience for her. She's spent a lot of time wondering how her life would have ended up if she'd been allowed to stay. Would she have kept her baby? Would she have reconciled with her mother? Would she have chosen medicine as her desired career? Would she and Rachel have finally worked it out and actually ended up together?

Next, she visits Burt's Garage and ends up giving Finn Hudson the fright of his life. Of course, Kurt told him all he needed to know about the situation, but he honestly never expected to see her again. And, yet, there she is, smiling sheepishly and fiddling with the hem of her shirt in that way he remembers her doing when she wanted to do something but wasn't sure she could.

So, Finn just opens his arms, and she surges forward without giving it a second thought. He's always given the best hugs, and they really weren't all that good at verbal communication, anyway.

"Would you like to meet her?" she asks him later, while they're sitting on a couch in the back with untouched cups of coffee on the table in front of them. "She's - she's so like him in all the best ways, it's sometimes annoying."

His smile is genuine, happy, and she can practically see the guilt and self-loathing bleed out of him. "Does she know who I am?"

Quinn sobers slightly. "Yes," she says. "She knows all of it. I made sure she did when she was old enough, and she knows that you once loved her as if she were your own."

His own eyes are teary when he says, "Then, of course, I'd love to meet her."

She meets his gaze. "He loved you, you know?"

Finn covers her hand with his own. "I know," he says, sombre. "He loved you more, though," and they both know it's the truth.

In September, Beth Fabray starts classes at Columbia, Dr Quinn Fabray takes up an Attending position at Mount Sinai, Lily Weston starts her junior year of high school and Rachel Berry makes her debut as Fanny Brice.

(Oh, and Quinn Fabray finally gets Facebook. Santana's the first to post on her wall: I totally called it, Rachel Berry. She's hot!)

It's always been ups and downs, so many years in the making, but there's a certain comfort to be found in the fact they're nowhere near the summit.

Fin