Disclaimer: Own not. Profit not. Sue not.

Orion's Law - Everything breaks down.

November in New York was cold, which one would think would be fairly obvious. Nevertheless, Quinn was always slightly taken aback when the weather turned and she found herselffreezing. Yes, she grew up in Ohio, and yes it snowed there, but somehow that didn't make her a fan. She loathed the cold that seeped into her very bones; the layers of clothing she had to wear. It was horrible. It was wet, and not like rain. She loved the rain. Snow was different. A point she argued futilely with both Ryan and Rachel.

Rachel, on the other hand, embraced the change in seasons like she did almost everything else. With utter giddiness. Quinn was still slightly surprised that she hadn't caught her out on the balcony serenading the neighborhood with some sort of festive tune to welcome the flurries of snowy awfulness.

Shivering at the thought, Quinn burrowed herself deeper under the mountain of blankets heaped on top of her bed. The heat was on, she'd had several tumblers of whiskey (it had been a good night), she was wearing flannel pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt, yet the cold still reached her. In front of her right at the edge of the mattress, with all the added blankets shoved off, Rachel slept on, oblivious to Quinn's chilliness. Stretching out, she snuggled closer to the softly snoring woman, nuzzling into her hair and tangling their legs together - careful to keep her toes away from Rachel's calves. In the midst of a slightly drunken romp the previous evening (it had been an awesome night) her feet had made contact with Rachel's exposed skin and the shriek of protest had almost derailed their adventure between the sheets.

Rachel was limp and deliciously sleep warmed, Quinn curled herself closer, wrapped both arms around a slim midriff and tugged lightly. She sighed and glanced out the window, shuddering anew when she saw the dreary-colored outside.

Awake now, but still sleepy, Quinn ducked her head into the warm crook of Rachel's neck and inhaled deeply - the fragrance of mint, cocoa butter and Rachel, lifting her mood. She couldn't help but let her lips drag across tan skin, earning a little unconscious hum.

She was weighing the pros and cons of waking her girlfriend when her cell phone shrilly interrupted her thought process. Rachel groaned and turned her face into her pillow, while Quinn reached over her and slapped blindly at the bedside table to reach the offending device. She growled when her fingers closed over it and yanked it to her ear, answering the call without looking at the screen.

"Fabray," she said and returned her mouth to it's earlier task, teasing the edge of Rachel's ear. She lipped happily at the skin, waiting for Ryan's gruff voice to shatter her moment so she could tell him to go to hell.

"Quinn?"

She froze, with Rachel's ear lobe held lightly between her lips. "Mom?" Her eyes flew open and she rolled away from the lazy tangled position she'd been in. "Mom, what's up?"

"Your father's dead."

And just like that the cold of New York in the winter no longer held a candle to the chill that pervaded her. "I - what?"

"Last night, sweetheart, he had a massive stroke."

"Okay," Quinn rasped and threw her forearm over her eyes. She couldn't seem to get her mind in gear to form sentences. Everything was so blank suddenly. "Um, funeral?"

"I'm not sure right now. I'm, well, I don't have the details from his... I don't know. Yet, anyway. It's all sort of being worked out, right now. When can you come home?"

It wasn't right, to think of there as home. She was home, she'd have to leave home to get to her mother. That house hadn't been home since she'd been kicked out. Even when she'd moved back in it was just the place she slept at night. Never a home again. "I'll look at flights and be there as soon as I can."

The bed dipped and shifted, Rachel's fingers closed around her wrist and pulled her arm away from her face. "Quinn?"

"Is that... Rachel?"

"Yeah, Mom." Quinn grimaced and instantly hated herself for it. She turned her head to see the curious look Rachel was sporting, along with a concerned frown, and slipped her free hand up Rachel's neck to cup her face gently. Her thumb automatically started to rub smooth little circles against Rachel's cheek. "Let me get up and search some flights and I'll call you back. Are you okay?"

"Yes, dear. I'm as okay as I can be. It would be nice to see you a - and Rachel."

She swallowed against the lump in her throat and smiled lopsidedly when Rachel laid her tiny hand on her sternum and rubbed soothingly. "I'll call you back."

"Bye."

"Bye."

She didn't bother with disconnecting the call, the dial tone was already ringing, just dropped the phone into the blankets and rolled into Rachel. Quinn balled up, laying her head on Rachel's hip and Rachel drew her legs up, cradling her with her whole body.

"You want to talk?" Rachel asked after a moment, fingers sifting through long blonde hair.

"Not yet," Quinn whispered and threw herself away from the gentle embrace. She untangled her long legs from her cocoon and staggered into the bathroom. The cold water she splashed on her face didn't do much to help with anything but waking her up completely. She braced her hands on either side of the sink, water dripping off her chin, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Cloudy and bloodshot hazel-green eyes stared back at her, flicking over her haggard-looking face. Rachel appeared behind her, rubbing at her eyes and toying with the hem of her t-shirt.

"You know it's snowing out and you're only wearing underwear and my shirt." Quinn said and dropped her gaze from the mirror.

"I'm warm blooded," Rachel quipped and stepped in further, solidly pressing her lean body up against Quinn's. "Besides sleeping with you is like sleeping next to a furnace. I'll never understand how you're so cold all the time with the heat you put off. As for the shirt comment, I'm pretty sure your name's not on it. Also? I recognize your deflection techniques, love."

"My Da - hmm," Quinn cocked her head and bit her lip. "My father died, last night."

Behind her Rachel stiffened, then tucked her arms more firmly around Quinn's hips. "I'm sorry."

Shaking her head Quinn turned in the embrace and leaned into Rachel's shoulder. "I don't know how I feel, Rachel, or what to say."

"You don't have to," Rachel soothed and set the side of her head against the silky strands of Quinn's hair.

"Can you just... ?" She trembled, bit back tears, and buried her nose in Rachel's neck. Memories she didn't want, that she'd pushed down as far as she could were attacking her. They bubbled up and swirled around and around, surrounding her from all sides.

She was always supposed to be his favorite child. He'd always made such a big deal of her, showed her off to his company. It had always been about her looks and left her feeling like a painting after awhile. Something people could look at, but never touch. No one ever touched her. She became another collected trinket, a special one that wasn't shiny but lived, breathed, spoke. As she grew older, and more 'beautiful' in his eyes, he too became less affectionate. As though any contact with her might make her real, something more than another soulless pretty object. His motto became 'women and children are to be seen, not heard' - a bastardization of a motto she found horrific before his changes to it.

Quinn wanted contact, craved it, and the more she looked for it the worse everything got. She'd had to teach herself to stop wanting it. Convinced herself that she hated it. It was one of the first lies she ever force fed herself. But she never believed it.

Still, Quinn loved him, he was her Daddy. She did everything she could to find him again, wondered what she'd done to make him loathe her existence. To her, he was still the man who gushed over her art projects and took her to the library. The one who slowly began to disappear by bits and pieces before her eyes. The final blow came the night Finn loudly, and dramatically, brought her father into the know about her pregnancy.

That was the night he died. At least as far as she was concerned.

"Whatever you need," Rachel said, pulling her back into the now.

"Hold me?"

"Of course, baby."

"I have to find flights and make some phone calls," Quinn mumbled into Rachel's shoulder. "And I want to ask you something but I don't know how to without making you uncomfortable."

"You want me to go with you?"

She nodded. "But you don't have to. I know you've got your show and it's my family and it would mean going back to Lousy Lima."

"I'll go."

"Rachel."

"No, you want me there and I want to be there for you."

Quinn palmed Rachel's shoulder blades and clutched her that much closer, painfully relieved but also feeling guilty. Rachel had answered so quickly, and Quinn knew that Rachel had made plans to never go back to Ohio if she could help it. She was only agreeing to go for her and she didn't want her to do that.

"I'm going, so quit trying to think up ways to talk me out of it. And it's a family emergency, everyone will be understanding, so stop feeling guilty." Rachel said and stroked her fingers down Quinn's spine. "Do you want me to make you some coffee while you find us some flights? I'll have to make a few phone calls myself."

"Can we just stay here a little longer?"

"As long as you need."

Rachel smiled sadly when Quinn eventually pulled away from her. She slipped her hands up over Quinn's shoulders up to her face and gently wiped the lingering dampness from under her eyes with her thumbs. "I'm here."

"I've never flown first class before," Quinn said quietly as she eased herself down into a chair in their boarding area.

Rachel grinned and dropped her bag into the seat next to her. "The perks of a famous girlfriend."

"I guess, though it seems extravagant when you consider it's only a two hour flight."

"Only two hours, listen to you," Rachel teased and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. "Silly woman."

"Diva," Quinn shot back with a small smile.

"You know that's only an insult outside the world of theater right?"

"Who said I was insulting you?"

Shaking her head, Rachel stooped and kissed Quinn's temple before snatching her purse back up. "I'm going to go get something to drink, okay?"

"Okay, I'll be here," Quinn said with a wave of her hand and pulled her bag into her lap. "Don't miss the flight, Superstar, and watch out for the autograph mob."

"I'll be back before you know it," she promised and spun on her heel to seek out the nearest coffee shop.

She was standing in line, Redbull in one hand for Quinn, and reading the menu, when her phone went off.

"Hello?" she said, still trying to decide between earl grey and green tea. It was a decision she would never take lightly, too many times she'd picked one and then wished for the other. The wrong kind of tea could ruin a day - it was that serious. She hadn't bothered with looking at who was calling, she already had a good idea.

"Rachel." Sure enough, Ryan Peterson's gruff voice filled her ears and she stiffened immediately at his use of her name and not the usual pet-name. "I just got Quinn's message. I need to talk to you."

"I'm in line at Starbucks, can you hold on for a couple of minutes?"

"Is she with you?"

"No." Rachel frowned and moved the phone away from her ear to glare at it. The conversation was already making her nervous and it hadn't even really started yet. "Ryan, I have this feeling I know what you're calling about. Could you, perhaps, confirm my suspicions?"

"It's about Quinn, obviously, and the situation you're walking into."

"I'm not walking into anything," she hissed. Her expression changed the second she stepped up to the counter. She beamed her best award-winning smile at the harried looking barista. "Green tea, please, a venti." Passing him the Redbull as well, she didn't drop her smile or speak into the phone again until she had paid and escaped the crowded shop with Quinn's drink in her purse and hers in her hand. "I grew up with Quinn, Ryan. Maybe not since Kindergarten, or whatever, but we have history, so don't act like I don't know anything about where we're going. Or is this in reference to our relationship? Are you worried about gay bashing? I have two dad's, I'm not a stranger to narrow minded bigots."

"Are you walking?"

"Yes, what does that - "

"Sit down. Sit down, and listen to me."

She didn't question him, though part of her wanted to, just planted herself in the nearest seat and stared blankly at the wall on the other side of the terminal. "I'm listening."

"I understand that you and Quinn have known each other for a long time, and that you probably know more about her than I do because of that. But I also know that there are things she hasn't told you, that she'll never tell you. It's not secret keeping, alright? She's trying to protect you. I can't let you go down there blind though, I need you to understand how muchQ needs you."

Rachel blinked rapidly and sputtered on her tea. "I'm not stupid, of course she needs me. Her father just died!"

"That's not the only reason. You're going into what, for all it is, could and should be considered a hostile environment. A goddamn combat zone, if ever I've been in one. You need to go in prepared for that."

"I don't know if you know this," Rachel said with a roll of her eyes. "But I'm not a soldier, and you're not making much sense."

He sighed so hard the sound was distorted into static through the earpiece. "Rachel, her family is a nightmare. Judy Fabray is just the tip of the iceberg with this bunch. How much do you actually know about what went on under that roof?"

"Are you trying to tell me Quinn was abused? Neglected for sure, but I never saw any evidence of physical abuse." She searched fuzzy memories of High School, trying to remember bruises or marks on Quinn's usually flawless skin.

"You don't have to hit someone to abuse them."

Her throat constricted around a hard swallow as his words struck a chord. She'd known that, she had - when she thought of how broken Quinn was, still was in some ways, she'd always known, always seen it. To Rachel, it seemed like she was the only one who'd ever noticed just how lost, alone and afraid Quinn Fabray was. "Ryan."

"I'm sorry, you've already got a lot on your plate. How's she doing?"

"She's quiet, which isn't strange. I think she's trying very hard to keep it all together. There's small things going on with her that are... off." Rachel tried for another sip of her tea. Relieved when it didn't scald her she took another, longer drink. "She tries so hard to be strong."

"You've always been the strong one, Rachel. Dramatic and crazy too, but you're the rock. I've listened to enough stories and been around you enough to put that together."

"I don't know about all of that," Rachel said, already preparing her argument.

"I do, and that's why this conversation is so important. She needs your strength, your indomitable character, more than ever right now. You can't cry, Rachel. I know when she does it's like you die inside, and you'd burn the whole world to make it better. But you can't. If you break down she'll bury it, she'll bury her feelings to take care of you. I can't, as her friend, let that happen to her again. I'm hoping, fuck, I'm praying that with you there she'll let herself feel, for once, without being terrified of it."

"I - " her voice cracked and she sniffled hard to stop the tears attempting to escape. "I will do everything I can."

"I know you will, you love her."

"I do."

"And you know what? She loves you too. Don't forget that - even if she turns into Mr. Hyde."

Rachel sniffled again. "Thank you, Ryan, you're a really good friend."

"I try. You get back to Q and call me if you need to, any time."

"Goodbye, Ryan."

"Bye, Tadpole."

She slowly made her way back to Quinn, barely paying attention to anything around her. Her mind raced, too full of childhood memories; things she hadn't thought about in years.

"Hey," Quinn said and smiled when Rachel handed her the Redbull from her purse. "Thanks, I was just thinking that sounded good. You okay?"

Rachel managed not to snort at the question. If anyone should be asking that, she should have been the one asking Quinn. "Sure. Just tired, I guess."

Overhead, the announcement came for them to board and Rachel noticed how Quinn's grip tightened around the blue and silver can in her hand. She blanched and silently cursed herself for forgetting.

"Quinn, are you - the plane."

Quinn swallowed and stood up, shaking her head. "I'll be alright, I should have taken something, but we were in such a hurry, I forgot."

I did too, abandoning her tea, Rachel grasped Quinn's hand and stood up as well. She knew that Quinn was claustrophobic, having had to deal with it every now and then. Their crazy morning and last minute arrangements had taken over every spare thought, on top of her worries about the ordeal they were about to go through. Quinn didn't always have panic attacks, they seemed to sneak up on her at odd times. Occasionally in the elevator, the car, even crowds if they were dense enough, she'd have a mild panic attack. Rachel had grown accustomed to dealing with them, but that generally involved removing Quinn from the cause. They couldn't exactly step outside of an airplane. "How do you - I mean, can we get you some Dramamine or something? Would that help?"

"No, that's not - no. Um, I didn't even think to bring anything with me. I'll just have to deal with it. Can we pretend everything's fine?"

Nodding, Rachel tangled her fingers with Quinn's and gripped her bicep with her other hand. Quinn smiled weakly and briefly set her temple against the top of Rachel's head.

"Let's go get in line," Rachel said.

She could feel Quinn tensing up more and more as they walked towards the plane. As soon as they'd settled into their seats, she grabbed Quinn's hand again and tugged until muted hazel-green eyes met hers again. "So we have a layover in Detroit, right?"

"For an hour, probably long enough for us to navigate our way to the gate. Then a short hop down to Cleveland."

"Maybe we could recruit one of those golf carts to take us to our gate? I'm always afraid of trying to run across an airport. While it's terribly romantic in movies, if not cliche, my stature makes me nervous. I can't take long strides like you can."

The plane lurched under them and Quinn's eyes went wide as they darted around the cabin. "You're not that short, you know, it's just an excuse. Plus, you have the longest damn legs, I'm pretty sure you could easily keep up with me."

Rachel hummed in agreement and reached over to cup Quinn's chin, gently guiding her to look back at her. "I guess you're right. Would you carry me piggyback style across the airport?"

Quinn blinked and cocked her head. "Seriously?"

"Of course, any request that outlandish would have to be serious."

"Now you're just being silly."

"Am not." Rachel stuck her tongue out then laughed at the face Quinn pulled in response. "Say I was wearing ridiculous, yet stylish, heels and my feet hurt from walking all day. You wouldn't carry me to save me the pain?"

"I'm not sure I should even attempt to continue this conversation."

"Quinn," she dragged out the name in a petulant whine and winked at the smirking stewardess who'd heard their conversation.

Sighing, Quinn shook her head and pulled Rachel's hand over into her lap. "You know I would."

Satisfied, Rachel leaned over and kissed her cheek sweetly. "Of course you would. So after Detroit we arrive in Cleveland and then it's a two hour drive back to Lousy Lima."

"Oh my god!" Quinn barked, shooting up in her seat.

"What?" Rachel jerked and scanned the cabin for what had caused the sudden alarm. Her thoughts jumped into overdrive. They hadn't even left the runway yet and all she could think was FIRE, HIJACKERS! But the stewardesses were still calm, and nobody else was panicking, so she started to wonder what they could have forgotten to cause the shocked look on Quinn's face. "Oh no, you left the stove on, didn't you!"

"The stove?" Quinn looked utterly perplexed at the suggestion. "No, what? No. We didn't even - why would the stove have been on for me to accidentally leave on? I'm going to meet your Dads in four hours!"

"That just now occurred to you?" Rachel laughed and kissed Quinn's cheek again. "You were there when I called them and asked if they could pick us up."

"I know." With a groan, Quinn dropped her head into her palms and hid there. "It didn't register until just now. I've never met them and now I'm going to be in a car with them for two uninterrupted hours. What if they hate me? What if they're just waiting to rip me to shreds because of high school? Do they even know we're together?"

"First, they know I'm coming down with you and they know that the past is to be forgiven and forgotten. I was, after all, the only one who should really be holding a grudge if there were to be any grudge holding. They've been informed that I will not tolerate any mentions of our previous tumultuous relationship. Second, they aren't the kind of men who 'rip' people to shreds. Third," Rachel paused and fiddled with the latch on her seat-back tray. "I haven't spoken to them about the nature of our relationship. I didn't want to over the phone. They're planning on coming up to see me for Chanukkah and I thought I'd tell them then. This will just present an opportunity to tell them before then."

Quinn picked her head up from her hands and wrapped an arm around Rachel's shoulders. "That's probably a good idea, telling them in person I mean, I - well, I don't know what to say. How do you think they'll take it?"

"Considering who we're talking about? They'll ask a million questions and probably need a little time to adjust to the idea. Like any parent, I would think. I hope, anyway. I've never seen them as different from other parents, except in extreme cases." She shuddered as she thought of Quinn's parents, and thanked God again for her fathers. Sure, they'd been less than helpful when it came to certain female problems, but they'd always tried. She'd never forget her Daddy trying to talk to her about puberty. He'd shaved his legs with her when it came time for that 'big' step, so they could learn together. It was one of her favorite memories - the two of them sitting on the side of the tub, pants rolled to their knees, with a can of shaving cream and matching pink razors. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I'm honestly not that worried. I love you and nothing anyone says is going to change my mind. I refuse to hide or be shamed for who I am, and you're a big part of me."

"You always say the right things," Quinn said. She smiled lopsidedly and nuzzled the side of Rachel's head. "How about old friends? Anyone you'd like to say 'hello' to while we're in town?"

"Is there even anyone left to meet up with? The only person I keep in contact with anymore is Kurt, and that's because he's in New York."

"Mike, Santana and Brittany are in Los Angeles. Mike's some crazy choreographer and Britt works with him when she's not out on tour with some pop star or other. Santana, as you know, is a plastic surgeon, which is so funny to me I can barely stand it."

Rachel stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine Santana in scrubs instead of her Cheerios uniform."Is it sad that I always picture her with a cane, popping pills and shredding people with her acerbic wit?"

"No more House reruns for you," Quinn said and rolled her eyes playfully. Rachel punched her shoulder with a light huff. House reruns were sacred, after all, it was almost worse than threatening to take away sex. Almost.

"We'll see about that, first you have to finish telling me where the Glee club ended up!"

"Mercedes followed her Dad's footsteps, she's a dentist in Cleveland. Tina lives there too, she teaches High School theater. Artie does some sort of computer something or other and Puck joined the Marines."

Rachel stared at her, mouth open. "Okay, how the hell do you know all of that?" Puck in the Marines? The haircut thing kind of made sense, but soldiers were supposed to follow orders. That didn't seem very Noah.

"FBI, remember?" Quinn said and smirked.

"Really?"

"No, it's called Facebook."

"You have Facebook?"

Quinn shrugged. "I'm more shocked that you don't."

"I have a fan page," Rachel said, then snorted. "Puck in the Marines, unbelievable. I deleted the other account when I realized I didn't have much need for it other than picture storage. I call people if I want to keep in touch with them. Are you even allowed to have Facebook? Isn't that against some sort of FBI rule?"

"It's not like I post details about my job," Quinn sighed. She picked at her jeans and cast a quick look out the window, watching the runway approach with no small amount of trepidation.

Rachel bit into her bottom lip and stared at her lap. "Does your relationship status..."

Quinn's smile returned as she nudged Rachel's shoulder. "It says 'in a relationship', no need for jealousy."

Blowing out the breath she'd been holding, Rachel sagged then smirked. "Good. Can't have anyone trying to Facebook date you."

"You're silly."

"So you keep saying." She ran through the list of Glee club members that Quinn had mentioned and stiffened when she realized the name that had been absent. "Finn is the only one in Lima, isn't he?"

"Finn runs the Hummel-Hudson auto shop in Lima," Quinn confirmed softly. "I'm sure he'd be happy to see you."

"Maybe," Rachel said and turned her head to rest it against Quinn's shoulder. "I'm not certain of that, or if I want to see him."

Quinn didn't say anything more, as uneasy with the topic as Rachel. She just kissed the top of Rachel's head instead.

They sat in silence, both shaking their heads when the stewardess politely asked them if they'd like a drink. Eventually, Rachel pulled herself up from the well of memories she'd tumbled down and sat up from Quinn's half embrace. "May I have your iPod? I'd like to listen to our playlist."

"Sure," Quinn said and dug into her bag at her feet for the device.

While she was busy searching, Rachel pried her own free and held it out for Quinn. "I made one too."

"You did?"

"Yes." Smiling shyly, Rachel watched Quinn's eyes light up as she snatched the iPod from her long fingers. "I thought perhaps we could combine them sometime? An ultimate Faberry playlist?"

"Faberry?"

"It's our portmanteau," Rachel informed her and brushed her bangs back from her face. "I went through quite a few until I found one I liked. 'Quinchel' sounded funny to me and I didn't like "Rainn" as much."

"I love it," Quinn said. "Faberry."

Bobbing her head and shrugging, Rachel started untangling her ear-buds. "It sounds right, doesn't it?"

"It sounds right," Quinn repeated in agreement. Giggling, she set her own ear-buds into her ears and waited until Rachel was poised so they could hit play at the same time.

They shared a smile before Rachel put her head back on Quinn's shoulder and curled up as best she could, one arm across Quinn's waist.

TBC...