I See That Ragged Soul Take Flight

Spoilers: Through Season 3

A/N: This is, at heart, a Faberry story, beginning just after the end of Season 3, about what happens when Rachel, Santana and Kurt live together in New York while Quinn is at Yale, but it is also an ensemble piece about what's next for basically everyone after Season 3 ended. So, while we slowly (let me stress slowly) work towards getting Faberry together, I also hope to show a little introspection from almost all the other Glee members, including some focus on Brittana, Klaine, Tike and Samcedes. It's also centered mostly on Santana's and Quinn's perspectives, though basically everybody will get their turn.

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Hard to be soft, tough to be tender
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It doesn't take long, once Rachel returns home, for the crushing feelings of grief and panic to set in.

New York with her fathers had been great. The excitement and euphoria of I'm actually going to be here in two months! had pushed everything else out of her mind. She could forget Finn's wounded puppy eyes, his pleading voice, entreating her to remember that he would always love her. While in New York, everything seemed so clear; it had been so obvious that he was right, that she needed to go there, without him.

But now, staring at the ceiling in her childhood bedroom, remembering the times they'd held each other on this very bed, she is awash with uncertainty and despondence.

She needs to talk to someone, needs someone to reassure her that she is doing the right thing. Instinct wants her to call Finn. Even though he'd always required prompting to do so, he did always reassure her. Or Kurt. His reassurance is always genuine, but she knows Finn needs him more right now, and he needs Finn, and God, his brother is joining the army! Panic rises in her chest at the thought, and then her heart constricts once again with the memory of Kurt's face upon receiving his rejection letter. They'd barely talked about it. Remembering his bitterness when they ran for class president against each other, she's been too scared of him lashing out in his pain to comfort him.

Kurt is out of the question, and Mercedes? Kurt needs Mercedes more right now. His dreams are falling apart around him, and all she'd lost was her boyfriend. Fiancé. She just has to keep telling herself that her dreams are bigger than him, and it would hurt less.

Just as she begins to feel herself start to wallow, choking on sobs she struggles to hold back, her phone buzzes. She winces. Her text tone is still four simple tones playing "Here comes the bride." She needs to change that.

She grabs the phone warily, glad for the distraction but apprehensive of who it could be. Her eyebrows shoot high.

Santana Lopez: Word is ur back from ny.
Find an apt?

Rachel quickly composes a reply, smiling slightly in spite of her mixed grief and trepidation. She and Santana had made great strides within the past few months, but Santana had never texted her out of the blue like this.

Rachel Berry: Hello, Santana. No, I have
not yet signed a lease, though my fathers
and I looked at many options and will be
deciding within the next few weeks. I
spent a lot of time getting used to the
campus and the neighborhood, and there
are some great apartments nearby.

She waits, slight smile still in place. After a minute or so it's clear she isn't getting a response, so she sighs and tosses her phone to the side. Just as she is glancing around her room, searching for a distraction, she hears the doorbell.

"I'll get it!" she calls, sprinting from her room. Her fathers are likely still unpacking and, no matter who it is, answering the door has to be better than staring at her walls.

Practiced starpower grin in place automatically, Rachel pulls open the door, her expression changing at once to shock. "Quinn!"

"Hey Rach," Quinn shrugs one shoulder in that tiny signal of nervousness Rachel had noticed a few times before. Taking in her appearance—sleeveless pale green summer dress, hair parted to the side with her bangs held back with a clip—Rachel suddenly knows exactly who she should have called. Quinn had briefly crossed her mind earlier in her panic, immediately dismissed. No matter how many times Quinn calls her a friend, Rachel has trouble believing Quinn would want to hear from her. In fact, this would be the first time Quinn has been over to her house since they had met up to practice their "I Feel Pretty/Unpretty" mashup. But here she is, and Rachel feels a kind of squeezing in her throat. Quinn has always reassured her, completely genuinely, completely without prompting.

They stare at each other for a few more moments before Rachel steps aside, "Oh my goodness, do forgive my poor manners, come in, Quinn! How did you know I was home?"

Quinn bites her lip and shakes her head, but gives no verbal response. Rachel's brow furrows. She is beginning to get good at reading Quinn's expressions—something she remembers Finn complaining was nearly impossible to do, though she suspects he just didn't put in enough effort—and Quinn isn't trying to be rude. Her wide, clear eyes tell Rachel she is struggling to say something important.

Rachel steps out onto the stoop next to Quinn, closing the front door behind her. She meets Quinn's eye, waiting expectantly, holding back the words she longs to utter, to ask if Quinn is okay. But she knows to give Quinn a moment to collect herself.

"I wanted to apologize." Quinn begins, her voice lower, huskier than the greeting she'd given Rachel. "I knew you were home because, well, we all knew." She must see Rachel's bemused expression, because her eyes shoot away and she sighs, smoothing her hair unnecessarily in another nervous gesture, one Rachel has never noticed before. "We all knew what was going to happen at the train station, and…that was so unfair. It's so awful that we all knew your engagement was off before you did. I never, ever should have let Finn blindside you like that. It's just, that's what he does. He decides things for other people and then manip—" she cuts herself off and meets Rachel's gaze again, "I'm so sorry for going along with it."

Without her typical verbal warning, Rachel reaches out and tucks herself into Quinn's arms. It is amazing how easy it is, every time. Even her announced hugs with Kurt had always had that awkward "who puts their arms over top, do we do one arm over one arm under" dance the first several times they'd attempted. And even though Quinn and Kurt are roughly the same height (or at least feel that way to Rachel, since Quinn has always carried herself so tall and Kurt is so lean he just seems small), Quinn seems to instinctively know where her arms should go; now, Rachel is on her toes, her cheek pressed into Quinn's shoulder, Quinn's arms around her own shoulders.

"It's okay, Quinn. I forgive you. And…I think he was right to do what he did." She hears and feels Quinn's sharp intake of breath through her nose, knows Quinn instinctively wants to rebut, so she squeezes Quinn a little tighter and continues, "I don't know if I ever would have been strong enough to break things off with him on my own, even if I know now it would have been the right thing to do. You were right." She's saying this mostly to comfort Quinn at this point, but as the words leave her lips, she recognizes their truth at once. Tears pool in her eyes as her doubts vanish a bit, like fog clearing, and she feels sure of her future for the first time since she came home.

Quinn seems to sense this change as Rachel lets go of a little bit more of Finn, and continues to hold her, saying nothing. Rachel inhales a ragged breath as she tries to compose herself, and Quinn merely makes a small, sympathetic hum. They both hear, without taking much notice, a car pulling up, and it isn't until they hear the car door slam that they break apart, both pairs of questing eyes sliding to the curb.

Santana lithely steps around her car, her eyebrows lifting as she looks at Quinn. Quinn raises a single eyebrow in response, and the silent communication elicits a small grin from Santana. "Hey, Q. Sup, Berry." She steps onto the stoop with them, bumping shoulders with Quinn in greeting and hitching her chin at Rachel in a gesture so very Puck-like that Rachel has to stifle a giggle.

Quinn smiles and murmurs "Hey, S," in greeting, and Rachel says, "Hello, Santana. I wasn't expecting you! You're welcome here, of course. Why don't you both come in?" Rachel begins to open the door.

Santana glances as Quinn questioningly, "You just got here, too?"

Quinn nods, then darts her gaze away, suddenly understanding why Santana asked. Clearly, the embrace Santana found she and Rachel in seemed too intimate to be a 'hello.' She misses the way Santana's eyebrows tic up at the action.

They step inside and see one of Rachel's fathers, Hiram, puttering around in the kitchen, apparently making tea. Rachel introduces them, and neither have the heart to remind her that they've met him. Everyone in Glee club—aside from Quinn—met her fathers briefly at the first aborted wedding, and again—this time including Quinn—in a much more official capacity at the train station for the second aborted wedding, when the men had left on an earlier train in order to meet her in New York. They'd gone over the plan with everyone once more; it was part of the reason Quinn and Santana knew when Rachel would be back in town. Still, Hiram takes his cue from both girls and smiles and shakes their hands, pretending right along with them. His smile is compassionate, communicating his approval of their careful attention to Rachel's feelings, and he seems to relish the chance to feign ignorance of their identities.

Rachel offers them something to drink or a snack, bustling around the kitchen in sudden anxiety, wondering what they might have. Quinn declines politely, and Santana murmurs her own declination, lifting one shoulder in the very same way Quinn had not five minute before. Rachel barely catches the action, but when she does, she's only puzzled a moment. Santana has channeled both Puck and Quinn, the two most confident people either of them know aside from Santana herself, since she got here. Santana is nervous. Rachel instantly ushers both girls up to her room, eager to give Santana the privacy she clearly wants.

Quinn just gives a small smile as they enter the room, her eyes darting around, and her face grows more relaxed the more she takes in, as though happy to see how little has changed in the year since she's visited. She stands next to Santana, whose gaze is darting everywhere, as if not sure what to take in first—the huge bed with the predominantly pink bedspread, the vanity, the elliptical, the Broadway posters, the yellow walls. Rachel stands watching them, attempting a pleasant smile, until Santana meets her eye and gives her a genuine, if small, grin. "Well, it's very you, I don't know what else I could've expected." Quinn laughs, remembering her own reaction had been very similar.

Rachel plops onto her bed and scoots back to the headboard, "Please, sit! You're both welcome to join me on the bed, or my desk chair, wherever you like!"

Quinn, recognizing Santana's unusual behavior the same way Rachel did, knows Santana is here for a reason and lets her take a seat first. Santana kicks off her flip-flops and tucks her jean-clad legs under her as she settles at the foot of Rachel's bed. Quinn, with forced nonchalance, slips off her own sandals and leans against the headboard next to Rachel, not quite close enough to touch, and stretches her legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. She and Rachel both regard Santana patiently.

Santana chuckles and she sees both girls looking at her expectantly and attempts to defuse her own nerves, "Well, you're both clearly wondering why I'm here interrupting your makeout time." Quinn makes a small noise that sounds like, "hmph" and averts her gaze, while Rachel just grins widely, her attention still on Santana. Santana deflects her gaze to smirk at Quinn, who doesn't notice as she stares at Rachel's computer desk with her brow knitted, then turns back to Rachel. "Graduation and…everything…was so crazy that I didn't get a chance to talk to you about…something."

Rachel nods, trying hard not to speak. She has to pretend she's speaking to Quinn in order to successfully clamp down on the urge. There's something about the way Quinn speaks to her that always makes her want to listen, not interrupt. For the first time, she sees such a similarity between Santana and Quinn that it shocks her momentarily. In their nervous states, they cope very similarly.

"I…I decided not to go to Louisville for college." Santana states. Quinn nods, knowing this already, but Rachel opens her mouth to speak. Quinn's light touch on her arm stops her, and she realizes how rude it would be to question Santana's decision. How manipulative.

"So," Santana continues, her eyebrows twitching slightly as she takes in Quinn's touch, "I talked to my mom and…she has an account set up for me. And she told me that I should go to New York." Her eyes meet Rachel's fully. "I still don't know what I want to do there, but I need to be in the city. And I know we still don't really know each other that well, but god, how can I be in New York with Rachel Berry and not be in New York with Rachel Berry?"

Rachel's grin is wide and takes up her whole face. It's so close to her camera smile, but Quinn and Santana can instantly sense the difference. "You want to live with me in New York?" She sounds like she can't quite believe it.

Santana laughs a little, trying to sound breezy as she inspects her nails. "Sure. I mean, it'll be more cost effective. And I guess if there's anyone who can help me figure out what it is I can get out of the city, it's you." Rachel beams, and Quinn smiles at Santana's wording.

"Santana, I'm honored. Oh! I can show you pictures of the places I looked at! There are some excellent apartment complexes near campus that advertise to students, although of course you don't have to be a student to live there, and we can do a one bedroom or—"

"Oh, hell no!" Santana's brow furrows and her anxiety evaporates as she tilts her head aggressively, "Look, Berry, I may recently have realized I actually more than tolerate you but I am not ready to sleep next to you. Two bedroom. 'Sides, you won't wanna be in that one bedroom with me when Britts is visiting."

"Yeah, you really won't," Quinn murmurs, thinking back to the many sleepovers she'd had with the two. Rachel smirks at Quinn, looking briefly like she wants to ask something, before changing her mind and rolling her eyes at Santana in such an HBIC way that it surprises both former head cheerleaders.

"I was going to say or two bedroom, Santana, don't worry! I'm not so adept at sharing either, being the spoiled only child of two men entirely too grateful to have the opportunity to raise a child, but if it was prices you were worried about…"

"I'm really not worried about the price," Santana admits, eyes darting away. They land on Quinn, who smiles in understanding when she sees the vulnerability in Santana's eyes. Santana doesn't want to be in New York alone.

"Honestly, I'm a little jealous. I can't think of a better roommate to have in New York than you, Rachel." Quinn's trying to rescue Santana, who is clearly uncomfortable reiterating that she actually wants to live with Rachel, that it's not really about cost effectiveness. But Santana starts smirking as soon as she's said she's jealous, and she blushes, regretting throwing Santana a bone.

Santana goes easy on Quinn, however, "Let's just stick with the term housemates, 'cause like I just said, not gonna be sharing a room."

Rachel agrees to send Santana some pictures of places she's seen, and they both agree to do a bit of searching on their own and send each other links of listings that they like. Santana seems eager to start on this right away and gets up, sliding her feet back into her flip-flops. Rachel stands, too, and she begins to escort Santana downstairs. Quinn follows, momentarily panicking about whether or not to put back on her sandals. Should she leave because Santana is leaving? She doesn't want to, but she interrupted Rachel's day, she hasn't even had a chance to ask if Rachel's busy, or if she wants to hang out. Cutting off her mental ramble, she follows Rachel and Santana downstairs without putting back on her own shoes. Rachel is giving Santana a hug—prefaced, Quinn notices, with an "I'm going to hug you now."—and is opening the door for her. Quinn feels warmth spread in her chest when she realizes she's standing next to Rachel, watching Santana leave, and Rachel hasn't given a single indication that she expects Quinn to leave, also.

Quinn's happy surprise exists right alongside Santana's curious attention. Her eyes dart to Quinn's bare feet beside Rachel's as they stand in the doorway together. She shoots Quinn a wicked grin and calls "I'll email you apartment stuff later, Berry. Q, I'll call you tomorrow. Lates, chicas."

Rachel and Quinn wave and Rachel shuts the door as Santana's car starts to pull away. She turns and smiles at Quinn, their eyes locking like they always seem to do so easily. "I'm so glad you're here."

Quinn is sure she hears the "I'm so glad we're friends" hidden somewhere in the simple sentence. So she smiles her response and says, "Me, too." Wondering what they'll do together, really hanging out alone for the first time, but knowing that whatever it, she'll enjoy it.

They end up baking dark chocolate chip peanut butter cookies, ordering Thai and scrolling through Rachel's Netflix while nestled against Rachel's headboard with pillows propped behind them. They watch a few episodes of The X-Files because Quinn remembers really admiring Agent Scully when she caught a few reruns on TV late at night Sophomore year when she was fighting the insomnia the stress of pregnancy gave her (which, of course she would like Scully, right? The episode that drew her in had a very pregnant Scully, cross around her neck, going into labor and being tended to by a beautiful dark-eyed brunette woman, and wasn't David Duchovny supposed to be on this show? When he appeared, Quinn wondered why he was needed at all). They also watch a few episodes of Ally McBeal, because Rachel says the show is like a secret musical and she remembers karaoke playing a large role (although this doesn't seem to be the case in the first few episodes, and the fact that Ally is clearly pining over an ex boyfriend makes Quinn eye Rachel nervously, but Rachel doesn't seem affected, and instead just keeps commenting that she wonders what ever happened to Calista Flockhart, she was so gorgeous and had great comedic timing…)

Something about Calista Flockhart reminds Quinn of Sarah Michelle Gellar, and she remembers enjoying the reruns of Buffy she would also sometimes catch late at night as an insomniac in Finn's or Puck's living room (and, of course, because the episode that drew her into that show had been about Buffy losing her virginity, and her entire world crashing down around her as a result, and when Buffy ended her traumatic day curled up with her mother on the couch, Quinn had cried self-pitying tears that this was not a possibility for her…). She suggests an episode of Buffy, but sees then how exhausted Rachel looks. She also has heard Rachel's phone singing incessantly for the past half hour, recognizing it as Stevie Wonder singing just the phrase "Signed, sealed, delivered." He sings again, and Quinn smiles, "I've been assuming that's your email alert?"

Rachel chuckles, "What tipped you off?" and clicks the phone a few times, as though taking Quinn's attention on her phone as permission to check it. Her eyebrows arch. "They're all from Santana." She opens another tab on her laptop and clicks her email. Quinn looks away, afraid of what she'll see in Rachel's inbox, but Rachel's snort brings her eyes back to the screen. An email is open with a link and the words "this one has coin-op laundry in the basement. hells to the no to the laundromat."

Quinn watches as Rachel scrolls through Santana's emails, chuckling with her at Santana's assessments ("sweet jesus central air!" "this one allows pets, Britts would love if I had a cat" "dishwasher, check it.") Quinn sits quietly while Rachel scrolls through the pictures in the listings, eager to have an idea of what Rachel's future apartment will look like. Rachel seems to appreciate Quinn's assessments of the pictures as well, whether she's commenting that it's surprisingly roomy, or the hardwood floors are gorgeous, or the windows will let in so much natural light.

Rachel stretches, arching her back so that her tank top rides up, and Quinn takes this as her cue and slides off the bed, averting her eyes. "It's late and you're tired, and you should probably respond to Santana before you go to bed or she'll take it personally and go Lima Heights Adjacent on you or something." Quinn tries to deflect from her sudden awkward feeling.

Rachel smiles, the lilt of her eyelids betraying her obvious exhaustion, and she gets off the bed, too. "Yes, you're right, of course. Thank you for coming over, Quinn, I greatly enjoyed your company."

"Me too," Quinn says quietly, facing Rachel again now that her sandals are on, "We should…do it again soon? I mean, it's our last summer all together. Let's make it count." She's suddenly afraid to admit how much she wants to hang out with just Rachel and drags in the vague mention of the rest of the Glee club, waving her hand expansively as if the rest of the club are in the room with them.

Rachel nods, and Quinn notices the flicker of worry in her eyes. Of course. The rest of the Glee club includes Finn. "I'd like to take you up on that episode of Buffy sometime soon as well."

"I'd like that," Quinn smiles.

Rachel walks her to the door, they share one of those unprompted hugs that Quinn wonders if she's the only person to receive, and she drives home, smiling ghosting her lips the whole way.

And at some point after they part, both have the same thought at the same moment. That girl is my best friend.

Additional A/N: Title is from Joni Mitchell, "Black Crow." Chapter title is from Metric, "Help I'm Alive."