RACHEL

QUINN: She arranges a bouquet of flowers in a vase before placing them on Rachel’s kitchen table. Quinn glances at the clock and feels her nerves increase, knowing that her girlfriend will be returning any minute. She bites her lower lip and stares at her meager attempt at an apology. She hopes the gesture will be appreciated, although she’s very much prepared for it not to be, and she wouldn’t blame Rachel for one second.

Quinn messed up, dug herself into another hole of her own making, and now has to climb out.

It’s not that she forgot about Hayley. How could she? Quinn’s relationship with Hayley and the way she treated her are some of her most shameful memories. But no matter how much she wishes otherwise, her past always has a way of coming back to bite her. Quinn knows Rachel will never look at her the same way when she learns the truth about what she did.

RACHEL: Well, today has pretty much sucked.

Finding out that Quinn had lied to her about knowing that Hayley person was an unexpected knife in her heart. Rachel still doesn’t quite know what to think. She’s angry and hurt and confused and—yes, jealous.

She wants to believe that the jealousy, at least, is unwarranted, that whatever dalliance Quinn had had with Hayley in New Haven is well in the past, but it’s hard to convince herself of that when Quinn had gone out of her way to mislead Rachel instead of simply admitting the truth.

So, yes, she’s jealous.

And she’s hurt. Because despite her claims to the contrary, Quinn obviously still doesn’t trust Rachel—trust that she’ll accept the darker parts of Quinn’s past.

And, damn it, she’s angry that Quinn had outright lied to her! Her persistent self-loathing and fear of rejection isn’t an excuse that Rachel can fully accept, even if she is trying to understand it.

Rachel never wants to be blindsided like this again, and she certainly never again wants to be so distracted during a performance that she barely remembers a moment of it. Tonight’s audience certainly didn’t get the best of Rachel Berry. Stephanie had asked her more than once if something was wrong, but Rachel just couldn’t talk about it with her.

She’s not even entirely certain that she really wants to talk about it with Quinn right now, but she knows they do need to talk.

So Rachel hesitates for just a moment outside of her apartment door, knowing that Quinn is probably inside, before she takes a fortifying breath and opens the door.

QUINN: The doorknob clicks, and Quinn involuntarily holds her breath as her gaze darts toward the entryway of the apartment, watching as the door opens, revealing her girlfriend.

Quinn’s stomach churns with guilt the moment Rachel walks through the apartment door. Hurt, brown eyes bore into Quinn, and her hand unconsciously grips the back of a kitchen chair.

“Hi, Rachel,” she offers softly, tentatively, wanting to reach for her girlfriend and soothe her but knowing she can’t because she’s the one that caused this.

RACHEL: The moment she sees Quinn, looking so scared and remorseful, Rachel feels the sting behind her eyes as surely as she still feels it in her heart. She tries to return the greeting, but the words don’t come, and she finds herself dragging in another breath instead as she blinks back the tears that she refuses to let fall.

Swallowing heavily, she manages a jerky nod as she tosses her purse on the table and wills her legs to carry her closer to Quinn. Her eyes catch on the flowers sitting on the table, and she idly wonders if those are supposed to magically make everything better even as she reaches out a hand to lightly finger one of the petals. They really are lovely, but, “I’m still upset with you, Quinn,” she admits quietly.

There really is no way around that, and she shakes her head sadly as she finally turns her gaze to Quinn’s sorrowful expression.

“I don’t know what to do with the fact that your first instinct is still to lie and keep me in the dark rather than trust me to accept your past mistakes.”

QUINN: “I’m sorry,” she says automatically, knowing that the words are inadequate even though she means them. “I didn’t mean to lie,” she continues, repeating what she told Rachel via text.

Her girlfriend’s expression morphs then—disapproval swirling in brown eyes as pink lips curve down—and Quinn runs a nervous hand through short, blonde hair.

“But I did lie,” she admits, tearing her eyes away from Rachel’s reproachful gaze. “And there’s no excuse for that. I know. I just...”

Hazel eyes look up at the ceiling before meeting Rachel’s once more. “I don’t know if there’s anything I can say to make things right.”

RACHEL: The words ‘there isn’t’ are on the tip of Rachel’s tongue, but she bites them back, knowing they wouldn’t be productive, and despite her anger at being lied to, she does want to be able to forgive Quinn and work through the obstacles that they obviously still have in their relationship.

“You can start by promising me that this won’t happen again...that you’ll tell me the truth even when you think I won’t like what I’m hearing.”

QUINN: “I promise,” she pleads, meaning those words despite the trepidation she feels.

Telling the truth in this instance isn’t going to be fun, and Rachel definitely isn’t going to like hearing it, but Quinn needs to fix this.

“I’ll tell you everything,” she promises, unable to keep the nervousness out of her voice completely.

RACHEL: Quinn’s anxiety is palpable, and it’s obvious to Rachel that Quinn doesn’t really want to tell her anything but feels that she has no choice. Rachel feels a tiny twinge of guilt but not enough to let Quinn continue to keep these secrets from her indefinitely. That’s what had put them in this position to begin with.

With a nod of acknowledgement, Rachel pulls out a chair from the table and sits down, placing her hands on the tabletop as she gazes up at Quinn expectantly. “Tell me about Hayley,” she prompts, bracing for whatever it is she’s about to hear and silently vowing to keep her jealousy in check.

QUINN: She mimics Rachel and pulls out the chair that she’s had a death grip on for the last several minutes, and the memories of Hayley—from what she can remember—wash over her as she settles down in her seat.

“Hayley is my ex-girlfriend,” Quinn replies after a beat, watching Rachel’s expression carefully and noticing how her lips thin and eyes narrow ever so slightly. “The relationship lasted about four months, and it was a disaster because my bipolar was still unchecked,” she admits, wringing her hands together in her lap. “I was just starting to swing into a manic episode when we met, and I got worse over time... I treated her terribly.”

RACHEL: The confirmation that Hayley was, in fact, a girlfriend and not some brief, meaningless fling makes Rachel feel a little sick. She’s fully aware that Quinn had every right to have actual relationships during the time she hadn’t been in Rachel’s life—just as Rachel had had several boyfriends and girlfriends in those years—and had Quinn been honest with her from the beginning, Rachel’s own insecurities might not be rearing their destructive heads right about now, but the fact that Quinn had tried to keep Hayley a secret is making Rachel doubt everything Quinn has told her.

She folds her hands together on the table, clenching her fingers together as she tries to stay composed.

“Did she know? About...about what happened to you? That you tried to…” she trails off, unable to fully give voice to Quinn’s attempt to drown herself. Rachel doesn’t know why it matters to her, but it does. She wants to know exactly where Hayley fits into that tumultuous period of Quinn’s life when she’d disappeared from Rachel’s.

QUINN: She shakes her head as her stomach dips once more. “No. I didn’t confide in her about those sorts of things. I just wanted to feel good, to feel that rush of being alive.”

Quinn lowers her gaze to Rachel’s clasped hands, unable to keep looking her girlfriend in the eye. “I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have, but I wasn’t in my right mind. We had a lot of fun together at first, but I didn’t... at the time, I couldn’t fathom consequences for things I said and did.”

RACHEL: She’s never actually seen Quinn in full-blown manic episode. Rachel is far more acquainted with the depression. The mixed episode that Quinn had experienced months ago had been corrected with medication fairly quickly, though it had hurt Rachel to see it happening at the time, but even that had seemed to Rachel more like depression than anything else.

“I don’t really understand,” Rachel admits after a moment of Quinn’s silence. “What exactly do you think you did that you’re so afraid to tell me about, Quinn? Because it seems to me from Hayley’s messages to you that the only thing that seemed to hurt her was your sudden disappearance from her life.”

She doesn’t fail to notice the way Quinn winces slightly at those words. They both know she’d pulled the same kind of disappearing act on Rachel and everyone else in her life save her mother. Rachel can only imagine how much worse that would have felt had she actually been in love with Quinn at the time.

And, damn it, she doesn’t want to be suddenly sympathizing with Hayley!

QUINN: She closes her eyes and lets out a long breath. ‘Rachel wants the truth,’ she reminds herself. ‘I can trust her. I do trust her.’

Despite that, it doesn’t really make Quinn feel any more at ease. Cautiously, she opens her eyes once more and glances up at her girlfriend’s face—and her confusion and frustration is clear as day.

“I was all take and no give,” Quinn begins, trying to find the words to explain. “I was constantly chasing the next high, and Hayley got sucked in. We partied a lot.” She bites her lower lip, wanting to spare those details from Rachel—drinking, drugs, gambling, impromptu getaways, and sex. Quinn pushed Hayley to her edge and then some. It was all such a rush.

“I acted impulsively, spending money I didn’t have on whatever I wanted in the moment. Taking whatever and whoever I wanted, so long as it made me feel good... with no regard to how that would affect me or anyone else.”

RACHEL: Quinn’s words begin to paint a picture in Rachel’s mind that she’d admittedly rather not have, but it’s better that she knows what’s hiding in Quinn’s past so she can better understand everything that could potentially happen should Quinn ever have another episode.

Still—she’s imagining all sorts of dangerous behaviors that, frankly, make her stomach churn and her heart ache.

“Were those highs you were chasing...actual highs?” Rachel asks carefully. “Like...drugs?”

QUINN: “Sometimes, yes,” she replies after a beat, not exactly proud of that fact. “Like I said, we partied a lot. Drinking, doing things like coke and Molly. I didn’t always party with Hayley though...”

Quinn trails off, and her heart pangs with guilt. “She was way too forgiving of my transgressions,” she confesses, hoping Rachel isn’t going to ask her to continue spelling out said transgressions.

RACHEL: “You cheated on her,” Rachel supplies, having already surmised as much from what Quinn had said about taking whomever she wanted. It certainly doesn’t please her to know, but she’s more upset about the drug use and the potentially dangerous situations that Quinn might have put herself in.

“But you...you weren’t yourself then.”

QUINN: No, she wasn’t herself then, but Quinn can’t shake that this is part of her nature and she’ll inevitably succumb to it. After all, her father wasn’t so different at times... it runs in the family after all. And it’s that fact that has sent things crashing down in Quinn’s world more than once.

“I wasn’t,” Quinn agrees quietly. “But it’s still no excuse for what I did.”

RACHEL: “No, it isn’t,” Rachel acknowledges, watching the guilt and self-recrimination play across Quinn’s face. “And it breaks my heart to know that you did those things, Quinn,” she admits sadly, “but all of that happened before you were correctly diagnosed, didn’t it?”

Rachel is fairly certain she remembers Quinn telling her that her initial misdiagnosis of depression and the drugs she’d been given for that is what actually triggered her first true manic episode.

“You didn’t have the right tools to be able to make healthy decisions at the time.”

QUINN: She nods reluctantly. Quinn knows Rachel isn’t wrong, but once she’s this far in her guilt, it’s hard to get out of it.

“I wasn’t diagnosed until after I last saw Hayley. We got into a huge fight,” Quinn explains, mentally wincing as she remembers how distraught and tear-stricken Hayley was, and how utterly incapable Quinn was of grasping anything but her own immediate emotions. “And then I did something beyond stupid. I tried to find my dad. Because I thought if I could just...”

Quinn rubs at her eyes roughly then before burying her head in her hands. It didn’t make sense to her the first time she explained it to Dr. Herrara, and she doubts it will make sense now. All she knows is that she hates thinking about it.

RACHEL: Heart aching for Quinn—and stomach churning even more with apprehension at the mention of Russell Fabray—Rachel unfolds her hands and reaches for her girlfriend, shuffling her chair closer as she rubs her palm over Quinn’s arm in a gesture of comfort.

“It’s okay, baby,” she murmurs softly. “I’m here. Whatever it is, you can tell me,” she promises, silently vowing to listen to whatever Quinn has to tell her and try not to judge her too harshly for a past that can’t be changed.

QUINN: Rachel’s touch is unexpected but oh so welcome. It’s an anchor that tethers and grounds her enough to find some clarity in the rocky waters of her memories.

“I didn’t know it at the time, but my dad and I are very much alike,” Quinn says, voice quiet and rough around the edges. “In all the bad ways. I didn’t have the words or understanding for it then, but I had this notion—confront him, get him to... I don’t know, admit it was all his fault, even though that wouldn’t be enough—but somehow I thought it would quell the emotions broiling inside me.”

RACHEL: “You’re nothing like that man, Quinn,” Rachel is compelled to say.

She’d never had the displeasure of knowing Quinn’s father personally, but she’d heard enough about him from various people like Santana and Finn to have developed a strong dislike for the man. And any man who would throw his pregnant sixteen year old daughter out on the street without any concern for where she would end up isn’t someone who deserves the privilege of being a parent.

QUINN: “I am though,” she argues. “Dr. Herrara thinks he probably has a mood disorder, and it’s been a disruptive force in my life.” And his, she adds silently. Her doctor obviously can’t diagnose a person she’s never met, but it would explain a lot.

“He has a temper that I don’t have, but the way I treated Hayley... how is that any different than how he treated my mom? It’s part of why I disappeared on her... besides the fact that I was indisposed for that entire summer.” Quinn shakes her head and takes in Rachel’s confused and worried expression. “Sorry, I know I’m jumping around a lot.”

RACHEL: Drawing in a careful breath, Rachel nods slowly as she tries to digest what Quinn is telling her. She still doesn’t want to believe that Quinn is like Russell Fabray in any way that really matters, but because she doesn’t actually know the man, she supposes that she’ll have to accept Quinn’s assessment of the situation—keeping in mind that Quinn is very often more critical of herself than she has a reason to be.

“I’m sorry for interrupting. I know this is hard for you, Quinn,” Rachel concedes. “So just take your time and tell me what happened when you went to see your father.”

QUINN: “Don’t be sorry,” she counters with a soft shake of her head before gazing at Rachel meaningfully. “I appreciate you trying to understand.”

Quinn lets out another sigh before biting her lower lip for a moment. “Might as well get all of this out there then,” she says, voice filled with trepidation. “I need to back up a bit, to when this manic episode first started. It was before I bet Hayley... around Christmas. My dad got in contact with my mom. He wanted to see us. My mom agreed. Needless to say, I was pretty pissed off.”

RACHEL: She doesn’t blame Quinn in the least for that. Rachel would have been pretty pissed too under the circumstances—in fact, she’s pissed now on Quinn’s behalf.

“Is that when you were living with your mom in Milford?” Rachel asks, trying to fit this in between the bits and pieces that Quinn has already told her about her past.

QUINN: “We hadn’t moved to Milford yet,” she explains. “My mom and I had a place in New Haven at the time, but it was a bit of a drive to Yale’s campus. So when my dad started coming around again, I stayed away.” That spring semester, if Quinn wasn’t sleeping in Hayley’s bed, she was sleeping in someone else’s.

“I didn’t want to deal with him, you know? But he kept forcing the issue—wanted to work things out with my mom, but always finding ways to criticize me while also being weirdly generous. I mean, he bought me a new car.”

Rachel’s eyes have a fire in them, but there’s also some confusion there.

“Of course, I was ‘ungrateful’ according to him. We got into a huge argument on Christmas,” Quinn continues, remembering the yelling, the broken lamp, and her mother crying. Her father never laid a hand on her growing up, but that didn’t stop him from being physically intimidating. “It just set me off... pushed me into a manic phase, which got worse and worse as time went on, until finally I went to confront him months later. And it was... really, really bad,” she finishes, swallowing thickly and gathering herself as Rachel runs a soothing thumb over Quinn’s arm.

RACHEL: She listens as Quinn tells her about her father, feeling her dislike for the man grow. He’d cast Quinn away when she was at her most vulnerable and then waited years before reappearing at a time when it seems that Quinn had most needed peace and stability.

“What happened?” Rachel prompts softly, continuing to rub tiny circles over Quinn’s skin.

QUINN: “I went to his office—since he and my mom had rekindled things, he had relocated to New Haven. It was a small accounting firm... I think maybe five people worked there,” Quinn says, bowing her head and letting out a sigh as her brow furrows in recollection.

“I was literally out of my mind, and I was so, so angry,” she recounts for Rachel. Some of that day is hazy, but the emotion was so raw. “I confronted him, caused a scene. He was so calm, and that made me even more pissed off. Then he made a comment about how it’s a good thing I gave up my ‘bastard child’ because I’m a disgrace.”

Rachel sucks in a breath as Quinn’s fists clench. “I lost it. Literally. I hit him. And then the police showed up...”

Since then, Quinn has surmised that one of her dad’s coworkers must have called them shortly after Quinn stormed in.

Shame once again bubbles up as she brokenly admits, “I was completely out of control, and I had to be forcibly restrained. After that, I was involuntarily admitted to an inpatient facility.”

RACHEL: Her hand on Quinn’s arm goes still as she bites back a pained whimper. Knowing how deeply Quinn loves Beth—how much her decision to give her daughter up for adoption had torn her to pieces—Rachel can understand exactly how purposely hurtful her father’s words had been. Still—the image of Quinn actually hitting the man calls up another unpleasant memory of a certain bathroom during a certain prom that Rachel tries to shake off but can’t quite.

Rachel can’t help wondering just how much of Quinn’s behavior in high school had been unknowingly influenced by her disorder.

And the knowledge that Quinn had been effectively arrested and carted away—

“That’s... I’m so sorry,” she whispers, at a loss for what else she can say.

QUINN: She drags in a breath, trying to shake off the unpleasant memories to no avail.

“Thanks,” Quinn offers quietly, meeting Rachel’s concerned gaze. “I pray that I never get that bad again. And I’m sorry for keeping all of this from you. I just... I didn’t want to scare you or have you think less of me.”

RACHEL: Swallowing heavily, Rachel takes a breath as she considers everything that Quinn has told her.

“I don’t think less of you,” she assure Quinn. She’d already been aware that Quinn had spiraled into a dark place before she’d been properly diagnosed—she just hadn’t known the details.

And now she can’t vanquish the memory of Quinn resorting to violence from her mind.

“But,” she begins hesitantly, licking her lips as her gaze darts away from Quinn and down at the tabletop, “I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t just a little bit scared.”

She doesn’t ever want Quinn to end up back in that place where she’s so out of control.

QUINN: She nods sadly, but she’s not surprised by Rachel’s admission. It scares Quinn just to think about being in that space, and she can only imagine how scary it is for people that come into her orbit when she’s like that.

“I wish I could promise you that I’ll never get like that again, but I can’t,” Quinn says regretfully. “But I can say that even though I’ve had some lows and highs since then, it’s never been as extreme. Thank God for lithium.”

RACHEL: She tries to reassure herself with the knowledge that Quinn is good about taking her medication, but being with Quinn means accepting that she might spiral back into a dark place like that. Rachel hopes she can be strong enough to ride it out, but she’s not sure how she’d react if Quinn did the things to her that she’d done to Hayley.

“I love you, Quinn, and I’m in this with you,” Rachel promises, “but I have to be honest with you.” She pauses taking another breath and noticing Quinn’s hitch while fear begins to color her expression. “I’m not sure I could forgive you for...for cheating...episode or no episode,” she admits regretfully. “I’m already having some trouble with the lying.”

QUINN: “I wouldn’t forgive myself for cheating on you. Or doing anything to hurt you,” she says emphatically, and it’s the truth. Being in a dark place mentally isn’t an excuse for anything she does that might hurt Rachel.

Quinn curls one hand around Rachel’s then and gazes at her apologetically. “And I am so sorry for lying... I was trying not to hurt you, but I realize that’s exactly what I ended up doing. I promise I’ll tell you these things from now on.”

RACHEL: For the first time, Rachel feels like Quinn is actually making that promise because she truly understands that trying to hide or sugarcoat her past can only end up being more damaging to their relationship and not because she’s simply trying to appease Rachel after getting caught in her lie.

“I accept your apology,” Rachel offers, even though she still doesn’t feel completely settled with the situation. But she can see that Quinn is truly sorry, and Rachel is a few steps further down the path to forgiving her now that she’s heard more of her story.

Quinn squeezes her hand, offering her a faintly relieved smile. Rachel tries to return it, but she suspects it might fall just a little bit short, because—

“Now I think we need to talk about Hayley,” she reluctantly voices.

If Quinn’s ex is even half as persistent as Rachel had been when she’d stumbled over Quinn at that Jets game last October, then the woman isn’t going to quietly disappear now that she’s found Quinn again—no matter how much Rachel wishes she would.

QUINN: The small measure of relief Quinn felt at Rachel’s acceptance of her apology is squashed the instant her ex-girlfriend is mentioned again.

“She wants to see me—wants an explanation about what happened all those years ago,” Quinn confirms, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “I do owe her that and an apology, but I don’t want to upset you either. Hayley is squarely in my past, but you are my present... and hopefully, my future.”

RACHEL: Her first instinct is to ask Quinn not to see her ex. Rachel can’t really help it—she’s always had a hard time ignoring her jealous streak in the presence of a romantic rival. Add in the lingering insecurities about her appearance and her desirability that had been born in her adolescence and it’s a recipe for potential disaster.

But she’s not seventeen anymore, and while her emotions still tend to drive her actions, she likes to believe that she’s learned to temper them with reason.

It’s her reason that is currently reminding Rachel that she and Hayley sadly have something in common other than the drive to succeed in the entertainment industry. Quinn had disappeared on both of them without an explanation or a goodbye. Rachel can’t deny that the woman deserves at least that much that from Quinn now.

But she doesn’t have to like it.

“I want to believe that, Quinn. But you...you never gave her or yourself any kind of closure.” Quinn’s lips part, but Rachel shakes her head, giving voice to her fear before Quinn can stop her. “You can’t be certain that...that there won’t still be something there if you see her again.”

QUINN: “I don’t see how that’s possible,” Quinn tries to assure her girlfriend with a watery smile. “I love you, Rachel. I’m in love with you. And you’re the only person I’ve ever been able to say that about, and I don’t see that changing.”

And even though Quinn has never told Rachel outright that she was in love with her back in high school, she’s done keeping secrets from her girlfriend. “You... you’re everything I ever wanted.”

RACHEL: A trembling smile blooms on her lips at Quinn’s words. She knows that Quinn loves her, and she has no reason to believe Quinn is lying about the depth of her emotions even though she did lie about knowing Hayley. But Rachel has been so certain of things—of her lovers and her relationships—in the past only to end up heartbroken in the end, and she’s not sure she’ll ever fully escape the worry that it could happen again.

“I love you too, Quinn. You’re everything I want now.”

The sparkle of joy in hazel eyes is everything, but Rachel knows this honesty thing goes both ways, so she has to confess, “That’s why I’m...I’m just a little scared that your unfinished business with Hayley might be more unfinished than you believe. If she still has feelings for you...” Rachel trails off with an anxious shake of her head—because how could Hayley not still have feelings for Quinn? She’s Quinn.

QUINN: “That won’t change how I feel about you,” she affirms earnestly, trying to put Rachel’s fears at ease. “This probably makes me sound like a horrible person, but I don’t feel like I need any closure with her... the only reason I would see her is to help her find closure.”

RACHEL: “It doesn’t make you a horrible person,” Rachel assures Quinn as she runs her thumb over Quinn’s fingers where their hands are still linked together. Quinn can’t be any more horrible than Rachel is for wanting Quinn to feel exactly that way. She’s trying her best to squash the little voice of doubt whispering that something might change when Quinn actually sees and talks to Hayley again.

“But Hayley does deserve an explanation from you so she can finally move on,” she concedes reluctantly.

At least, Rachel hopes she’ll be moving on.

QUINN: “I’ll let you know when and where I eventually end up meeting her,” she replies, wanting to do whatever she can to make this easy on Rachel. “I don’t want to keep you in the dark about her anymore. No more secrets, I promise.”

And Quinn really does mean that. Honesty isn’t always easy, but she’s finally realizing that if she and Rachel are going to go the distance, she can’t hide anything—especially not something so important.

RACHEL: Her stomach rolls unpleasantly at the confirmation that Quinn is actually going to meet with Hayley. Rachel had been half hoping that Quinn would tell her she wouldn’t—that she’d just text her or call her to explain and not physically see her again. But she can’t backtrack on her own words now.

“Okay,” she agrees in a small voice. “You should...you should do that. Talk to her,” she reiterates with a firm nod. “And just...keep me in the loop...so I know what’s going on.”

QUINN: Her lips curve down into an uncertain frown. She can tell that Rachel is uneasy—it’s apparent in her eyes and tone of voice and touch—but she’s not sure what to do about it.

“Of course,” Quinn agrees with a soft nod, clasping on to Rachel’s hand a little tighter.

Hazel eyes gaze into dark brown meaningfully for a long moment, and Quinn hopes she can convey the sincerity and devotion of her feelings. “I love you, Rachel. I love you so much, and I will do everything I can to keep your heart safe.”

RACHEL: It helps to hear Quinn say that.

“I believe you,” Rachel says, offering Quinn a weak smile. “And I love you,” she assures her girlfriend.

It isn’t completely Quinn’s fault that Rachel can’t quite seem to also say she trusts her to keep her promises. Her initial lie had set this in motion, of course, but now it’s Rachel’s own insecurities that are keeping her from moving past it.

But, “We’ll get through this,” she vows, knowing she’ll do everything in her power to make sure they do.

QUINN: Relief slowly begins to course through Quinn as her lips curl up ever so slightly. “Whatever it takes,” she adds, eyes searching for long moments before lifting the back of Rachel’s hand to her mouth and pressing a gentle kiss against it.

RACHEL: “Whatever it takes,” Rachel echoes, melting at Quinn’s gentle action.

Franco had seen the things Benji had said and he knew he either needed to buck up or ship out. He couldn't keep playing this game with Benji. He was starting to see he wasn't being fair. Today would be what he hoped would be a step in the right direction. He knew everything could fall to shit if Benji found out about the drugs but he couldn't give them up. 

After confirming Topher was at work that night, Franco popped out and brought some supplies for a romantic evening. He went back and started to prepare. He'd brought steaks and potatoes which he would mash, something he'd never tried before but he had to start trying soon. 

He'd managed to find some candles and rose petals in a party gear store and so, he attempted to lay the table and lit the candles. He'd brought a bottle of wine and poured it ready for Benji to come home. 

For dessert, he'd brought chocolate covered strawberries but he kept them hidden. He'd seen they were Benji's favourite. He waited patiently for Benji to come home as he gotten changed into his fitted suit and sat at the table... Tapping his toes nervously.

Benji was exhausted. He had started Hell Week for his college class' Summer showcase on Sunday and 8 straight hours of rehearsals every day this week, plus the added stress of running his ballet class before practices today had started to take its toll on Benji and his body. All he wanted was to be able to take off his shoes and relax, but he knew he had to make dinner for himself, Franco, and probably Topher before he could even think about doing that. 

As he got off the elevator he had already taken off his point shoes and had his longboard under his arm, making quick work of throwing them both to the side of the doorway once he had stepped inside. Once he looked back up, he realized the apartment was dark and slowly walked towards the candlelit until he saw Franco sitting there, in a full suit, with a romantic--albeit a bit messy--scene decorated around him. 

"...Baby?" Benji questioned, looking down at the sweaty dance outfit he was wearing. Had he forgotten about something important that was today? "What's... what's all this? Is everything okay?" He asked, inching closer until he was about a foot from the table.

Franco smiled as Benji came in and cleared his throat, "Baths already been ran, dinners in about twenty minutes and there is an outfit on the bed" he said, taking deep nervous breathes, "I promise I'll tell you why after" and he stood and kissed Benji on the forehead, smiling as he did.

"You look so handsome," Benji whispered, mouth agape. He had never seen Franco so dressed up before and he cleaned up really well. "You ran me a bath? And made dinner? If you hadn't already proposed, I'd be thinking that's what this is. My birthday's not for months, you know that, right, Baby?" He smiled wide when Franco kissed his forehead, then took his hands in his. "I have no clue what this is, but I love it. I'm gonna go soak my joints for a few minutes and clean up. I'll be back soon, okay?" He gave Franco a quick kiss on the cheek, then ran to the bathroom, obviously excited.

Franco nodded, "Yeah I ran you a bath and dinner is cooking and you got an outfit picked" he said, almost to reassure himself. He smiled, "I'll explain everything when we have dinner babe" he nodded as he watched Benji run to the bathroom. He went back to the kitchen and checked the food, getting ready to dish it up.

Once Benji had showered and changed into the suit Franco had left him on his bed, he slowly walked back into the common area of the apartment, still having trouble believing that his fiancé had managed to do all this while he was gone. "...Baby?"

Franco shouted through from the kitchen, "Take a seat babe, I'll be there in a minute". He finished plating up the food and picked both plates up and walked to the dining area, putting the plates down and kissing Benji on the head before taking his sleep, "Dinner is served" he smiled.

Benji sat down, surprised to see the candles and rose petals on the table. He found himself staring at them lovingly, only to be shocked back to reality when Franco placed the food on the table. He looked at the plate and grinned, then looked back up at Franco. "Baby, this is beautiful. You didn't have to do all this for me!"

Franco smiled from his seat, "I didn't have to, but I wanted to" he breathed out. He had all kinds of reasons for this and he would discuss them all in due course. He looked at the food, "I hope it's OK, I ain't much of a cook".

Benji couldn't stop smiling as he picked up his fork and started to eat. "It's wonderful," he whispered, having no trouble digging in. He was exhausted, his stomach was grumbling, an he was proud of Franco for cooking for himself. Thankfully, the food was good-tasting, but it wouldn't've mattered if it wasn't--Benj still would have eaten it.  "Thank you so much for this, Baby. You don't know how exhausted I've been this week."

Franco nodded and ate his food silently. He was nervous. He had a lot of things to say, all that he thought he'd worded well. He continued to eat and drink his wine, the emptier his plate got the more nervous he was, "I promise, after we've eaten, I'll talk" he said.

By the time Benji had finished his food, the smile on his face was bolted on. He couldn't believe Franco had put that much effort into making food for him--it must've taken him hours. "If I have another glass of wine, I'm gonna get tipsy," he warned, choosing to have a glass of water instead. He took a sip, then turned back to Franco. "Baby, you've been so quiet during dinner. Everything okay?"

Franco finished his food just after Benji and smiled but he stood and walked around, sitting on a chair next to Benji this time and taking his hand. He gulped and nodded to himself before he began to speak. "I seen some of the stuff you were saying last night and it made me realise, I need to be a better man. Everything everyone says, those anon messages, I gotta buck up or ship out and I don't want to consider the second one at all". 

He paused for a moment before continuing, "Everything you've done.... Getting me of the smack, keeping me clean, helping me read a whole book... Everything has been all about me and I ain't done shit to care for you. I throw shit back in your face, I make life difficult cause it ain't going my way and it ain't fair babe. I can't keep doing this too you". He took another gulp of his wine and turned back to Benji, "I really want things to work with me, you and Topher but this, this had to be done with just us cause it's you I been treating like shit and I gotta stop, you know? I love you Benji" he finished, taking a gulp to calm his emotions.

Benji nodded as Franco spoke, surprised to hear him being so logical and mature. It made his heart melt. "It's true," he whispered back, moving the hand that wasn't holding Franc's so he could cup the side of his fiance's face. "I'm glad you're realizing how the things you do affect me, Baby. That's a huge step for you. I love you too, Franco." He smiled and moved Franco forward, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss.

Franco nodded, "I gotta get a grip on how I react and what I do and how I deal with shit cause I ain't got much of a clue. Therapy is helping, it's making me open up and once, that was a you thing. You have to pay for that cause I don't have a job or any way of getting one". He paused and looked down, "I just have one more thing to ask of you...". He had to pause and look away, feeling a little embarrassed, "I wanna start going to school online but I couldn't understand the form".

"I'll help you with it in the morning," Benji said without hesitation. He had been meaning to talk to Franco about either getting a job or continuing his education so he wasn't cooped up in the apartment all day, so he was ecstatic that his fiancé had managed somehow to read his mind. "I'm so proud of you, Baby. I love you so much."

Franco nodded and smiled, "Yeah, I really wanna try Ben" he said, biting his lip. He sighed and relaxed backwards a little, "I'm sorry, I didn't want this to get so intense but I had so much to say and I wanted to say it whilst treating you like the man you are. The man I love".

"I'm glad you wanna try! I'll help you. And don't apologize. I love it. And I love you," Benji whispered. "Thank you for dinner tonight, Franc. It was amazing. Just like you."

Franco let out a sigh of relief and stood up, "Wait here, I got something else". He disappeared into the kitchen and pulled out the chocolate coated strawberries. They were messy where he'd tried to do them himself but he smiled proudly walking back to the dining area and placing them on the table, "If I read it proper, then these are your favourites". He picked one up and held it to Benji's lips, "Open up baby" he said with a smile.

"You made me chocolate covered strawberries? Okay, now you're spoiling me," Benji said in disbelief. Who was this guy and what did he do with his fiancé? He opened his mouth at Franco's command, then bite the strawberry, quickly wiping his mouth with his hand to keep the juice from getting everywhere. "And feeding me too?" He asked once he swallowed, "Baby, this is so much!"

Franco smiled and continued to feed Benji strawberries, eating a few himself, "I wanted to give you a night all about you babes. I tried real hard on the strawberries cause I know they are your favourite and I've learnt some things from you I wanted to try to see if you enjoyed them".

Benji grinned, eating strawberries as he spoke. "Well I don't enjoy them. I love them. Thank you so much for doing all this for me, Baby. It's everything I've ever wanted."

Franco smiled proud of himself right now. He bit his lip and once the strawberries were finished, he lent forward and pulled Benji to him by the lapels of his blazer, "Kiss me" he whispered in Benji's ear.

Benji blushed hard when Franco pulled him, then bite his lip at the sensation of Franco whispering in his ear. "Baby, what has gotten into you today," he whispered sensually, pulling Franco into a kiss.

Franco smirked into the kiss and shook his head, "Just trying something different babe" he whispered as he pressed kisses to Benji's jaw, "All about you today" he breathed out.

"Well I love it," Benji said breathlessly, his eyes slipping shut from Franco kissing his neck. "And I love you."

~*~*~*~*~

Kink warning: N/a! This is vanilla and lovey-dovey, folks.

Franco smirked and pulled Benji up with him, "You wanna move this to the bedroom" he whispered, gripping Ben's blazer, "Maybe it's time I started to do some of the hard work"

Benji couldn't help but go slack-jaw, absolutely in love with Franco taking the lead on things. "Bedroom sounds perfect," he whispered, feeling like putty in his fiancé's hands. "Hard work?" He bit his lip and closed his eyes, "Fuck. Please."

Franco pulled Benji to the bedroom using his blazer and as soon as the door closed behind he started to undress the other, walking over to the bed and pushing him backwards, straddling him as he did, "You want me baby?" he asked as he started to remove his own suit.

Benji moaned, just the mere sight of Franco taking charge turning Benji on in ways words couldn't describe. He was about to lean in for a kiss when Franco pushed him into the bed and climbed on top of him, only managing to turn him on even more. "Fuck, yes," he moaned breathlessly, "I want you so bad. HaShem, Baby, this is so hot."

Franco stood himself up but only to undress himself and then knelt down on the floor, unbuckling Benji's trousers and slowly pulling both his trousers and pants down, "Take your shirt of babe" he said, looking up before he brought his mouth down, trailing kisses up Benji's thighs then take Benji's cock in his mouth.

Benji obeyed and threw off his shirt, barely able to lay back down onto the bed fully before he felt Franco's mouth around his cock. Caught off guard, he groaned a loud, "fucckkkk..." and closed his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten pampered like this.

Franco continued to suck Benji's cock, needing to get him hard before he could do what he wanted to do. He reached up, running and hand over Benji's chest as he took him deep in his mouth, licking and sucking as he deep throated his fiance.

Benji groaned louder, his hips instinctively raising. "Fuck, Baby, please don't stop," he whispered, already coming undone. "Feels so good..."

Franco smirked, satisfied that Benji was hard and he pulled himself of the man, straddling him one more. Whilst he'd been sucking, he been stretching himself, making sure he'd be ready and he lent down a d whispered, "I'm gunna do all the hard work". He moved himself backwards slightly and lined his hole up with Benji's cock before sliding himself down on it, adjusting to it for a moment

Benji's head fell backwards in pleasure as Franco slid onto his cock. "Fuck, so tight," he whispered, having to physically keep himself from jerking his hips up in search of more. "Please, Baby," he begged, wanting nothing more than for Franco to move--he was desperate for more. "So hot..."

Once he adjusted, Franco started to move himself, riding Benji's cock slowly at first as he lent down littered kisses all over his face and neck, "Fuck feels so fucking good" he breathed out, starting to increase his speed.

Benji groaned, the sensation of Franco riding him feeling out of this world. However, what he loved even more was the kisses. The sex the two were having tonight was sensual, loving, and almost nothing like the aggressive fucking they usually did--Of course, Benji loved any style of intimacy with his boyfriend, but the rareness of loving-making like this made it all the more special. "I love you," he groaned, letting his hands run down Franco's torso as he rode. "I love you so much."

Franco continued to ride Benji, littering kisses wherever he could get them. This sex was different, this was Franco showing Benji how much he cared and wanted this to work. He gripped Benji’s hand and moved it down to his own cock, “Please babe” he begged, “Please help me out a little”.

Benji smiled and started to jerk Franco off, leaning up and pulling him into a deep kiss. "I love you, Baby," he moaned into his fiancé's mouth, his eyes fluttering closed. "Love you so much.”

Franco rode Benji a little harder and faster now, planting sloppy kisses over every part he could reach, "Fuck so close babe" he whispered out, "So fucking close. Cum for me first babe" he breathed

'Fucckkkk," Benji moaned, thrusting upwards as he came. Giving an exhausted laugh, he leaned back onto the pillows and smiled, lazily jerking Franco off with the hand that wasn't holding his fiancé's waist. "Cum for me, Baby. I love you," he whispered.

Franco felt Benji cum and it was all he needed to spill over Benji's hand and chest. He lent down and kissed Benji, "God, that was incredible babe" he breathed out. He smiled as he moved so he was laying next to Benji, "Cuddle into me for a bit?"

Benji nodded and scooted close to Franco, cuddling into him. "That was easily the best sex I've ever had, Baby," he whispered, lazily running his free hand down Franco's side. "And today was one of the best nights ever. Thank you so much for all this."

~*~*~*~*~

Franco smiled to himself and stroked Benji's arm, "I gotta start thinking of you babe. It ain't gunna be easy and I'm gunna stumble and fall but I ain't gunna keep bringing shit up that's over now".

"That sounds like a perfect start for me," Benji said with a smile, pulling Franco into a deep kiss. "I love you, Baby."

Franco smiled and kissed the side of Benji's head, "I'm a little disappointed one of the things I wanted ti happen tonight didn't happen".

"What did you want to have happen?" Benji questioned lightly, turning further into Franco's cuddle.

Franco bit his lip and blushed slightly, "I'd pick us to wear suits cause I was gunna have a little slow dance with you" he admitted

"But you told me you don't like dancing, Baby," Benji said with a gentle chuckle.

Franco nodded, "I know I did but I wanted to make this night the best night ever and I thought I could try" he breathed out, "I even had a song chosen..."

Benji looked up at Franco, "Baby, this night was the best night ever." He smiled. "But we can slow dance later. Maybe tomorrow? ...What was the song?"

Franco blushed, "You really think so? I tried real hard and I didn't know if it would be OK?". He wouldn't lie, his therapist had helped and that was all thanks to Benji, "It's called 'I'll Be' by Edwin McCain"

"Of course I think so. It's definitely okay," Benji said, his eyes slipping closed. He hummed lightly, as he cuddled into his boyfriend. "I don't know that song, but I'd love for you to play it for me in the morning, okay, Baby?"

Excited whispers echoed throughout the reception hall as scandalized elites discussed what had just occurred in what was sure to be the most remembered wedding of the year. Shade was somewhere in the depths of the building, no doubt washing off the white chocolate and apricot that had once been Al Motta’s, admittedly, gorgeous wedding cake. Parker knew that she should be with him, ranting about the unfairness that had occurred to them.

Instead, she was following Al covertly through the halls, walking barefoot over the marbled floors so that she wouldn’t be noticed until she chose to reveal herself. He wove his way expertly through the halls, until he arrived at what seemed to be an office. Parker watched as he slipped inside, before beginning to hype herself up.

What she was doing, it could ruin everything. Parker knew for a fact that Shade wouldn’t see this as helping. In fact, she had a feeling that if he found out about what she was doing today that the results would be catastrophic for them. They had only escaped the fallout of the Sofia kiss by deciding never to talk about it and Parker could tell that this secret would put them in a similar situation. Hopefully he would never have a reason to question her though. In her heart, Parker believed that what she ultimately helping them. It meant that Al would never have another reason to question her faith to Shade and that they could spend their summer in happiness.

With a deep breath to steel her resolve, Parker pushed her way into the office. She was immediately surprised to see the Motta name engraved on the plate that stood on the desk in the room. Al was behind the desk and for a moment, it almost seemed as though the stress of the evening had took its toll. His lips were set firmly in a frown and fine wrinkles were etched into his forehead but they both smoothed away the moment that his eyes landed on Parker.

“Shade?”

The question came as surprise but Parker only squared her shoulders in response, refusing to show any emotion to this man who thought that life revolved around money. “He’s not with me. He is the reason I’m here though. You know he doesn’t talk about it much but I’ve never seen him more upset than when he remembers that you have no faith in him and continue to show that by demanding that we get a prenup.” When Al opened his mouth, Parker simply raised a hand to silence him, wanting to get her rant out while she could. “He never mentions how much he loves you but I know that he does. All he wants is for you to look at him the same way you look at Summer. He wants you to be proud of him, to approve of him but apparently that’s too much to ask, even when it comes to the relationships he chooses to have.”

She paused, knowing that she was getting off topic and that she wasn’t making her case. Over a year of frustration had built up at the man though and Parker hated seeing Shade upset. It was even worse knowing that she couldn’t change how things are. After gathering her thoughts for a moment, Parker continued in a less accusatory tone.“Shade thinks it’s unfair of you to ask him to get a prenup. I think it doesn’t matter because I don’t give a damn about your money.” With that, Parker pulled out a formal document that was printed on heavy cardstock.

“It’s not a prenup because that would require Shade to sign it and he will never do that. It is a contractual agreement, however, that says I vow not to ask for any kind of support should Shade and I ever break-up, which we won’t, and that I wish to be excluded from any inheritance, should something ever happen to Shade. Which, I should add is irrelevant because if anything happens to him, I will lose my mind. Your son is the love of my life and if this is what it takes to keep things, if not good, at least amicable between the two of you then I am willing to risk it.” Parker slid the paperwork across the desk, tapping her finger against the seal there. “It’s already been notarized by my lawyer. All you have to do is sign the one empty line saying that you agree to not tell Shade about this and then the contract is binding. Of course, you’ll have to contact my lawyer so he can witness it but somehow I don’t think that will be a problem for you. You can find his number on a post-it note on page three.”

Parker took a step back, still not allowing the man to speak. “You don’t need to worry about contacting me when the paperwork is done; Rupert will be more than happy to save us both the hassel. Congratulations on your marriage.” With those final words, Parker turned on her heel, only pausing once she was outside to put her shoes back on and to shoot Shade a text.