Let the Rain Sing You a Lullaby
Warnings: Topics covered include teen pregnancy, sexuality/gender identity, abortion, discussion of the rape... nothing graphic, though.
Notes: I was going to do "Five Guys Who Weren't Quinn's Baby Daddy," but somehow it became a Kurt/Quinn fic (Qurt?). Color me shocked. Posting this now because of the inevitable Jossing Season 2 will bring.
Spoilers: Starts right after the Pilot, but this is a divergent story that takes some parallel lines before going completely away from the series canon. Still, anything through "Journey" is fair game.
Quinn never resents waking up, except for this time. She's not a huge fan of pain, but life as a Cheerio for the past two years has given her a higher pain threshold than most. So when she wakes up feeling like there's a steel drum band performing inside her skull, she rolls over and buries her face in the pillow.
Or she would have, if her body hadn't come into the contact with someone else's warm, and very bare, skin. She tells herself to take a couple deep breaths, because Quinn Fabray does not panic. Her head is killing her, but she forces herself to puzzle out what's happening, making her sluggish brain recognize the facts so she can come up with a plan.
The sheets are warm against her skin, and she blushes as she realizes she isn't wearing anything, either.
In a bed.
Reaching out a tentative hand, she brushes her hand against her bed partner's arm to confirm what she fears.
With a guy.
She's hyperventilating just a bit, because this isn't supposed to happen to her. She's the president of the Celibacy Club, the poster child for abstinence. She's not suppose to wake up "the morning after" because she is waiting for marriage!
The most obvious answer to what happened the night before is that she got drunk and someone took advantage of her. She's been feeling insecure lately, due to the pressure of being Captain and Finn's sudden fascination with Glee, and if someone had said the right things...
Her fear starts to mingle with growing anger, and she wants to hurt someone. Whoever is sleeping next to her is the obvious target. Her stomach clenches with the one surety that it isn't Finn.
Turning her head, Quinn stares at the sleeping boy next to her, and has to struggle to remember his name. He'd been at the party as a guest of Finn's, one of the Glee club members.
Oh my God, she thinks. I'm in bed with someone I don't know.
Then a second later, she remembers his name and realizes the situation is more FUBAR than she'd thought. She had fucked Kurt Hummel, the gayest boy in school, and possibly in the state of Ohio.
She wants to wake him up and start screaming at him, but her patchy memory is starting to come back. They'd both been very drunk, and neither had been happy about how Finn had been hanging on Rachel Berry's every word. Somehow or other, they'd ended up talking, then bitching, and suddenly he was her new BFF.
Somehow it'd ended up with her following him home. His parents hadn't been visible as they'd stumbled downstairs, but Kurt had liberated several beers from the fridge so they could keep drinking. They'd talked about fashion and how stupid Finn was not to see through Rachel's special brand of crazy, and about how slutty the rest of the Cheerios were.
Kurt had teased her about not fitting the stereotype correctly, and she'd decided to fight back by climbing into his lap and straddling him. She'd felt powerful as he started to freak out, insisting he wasn't interested in girls, but she'd shut him up with a hand job. A hand was a hand, no matter what some people claimed, and it didn't take long for his body to respond.
And that had been just the beginning.
If anyone had been taken advantage of, it'd been Kurt.
Her eyes burn, and she wants to cry. She's supposed to be queen of the Celibacy Ball, and she just lost her virginity to a boy who didn't even want her.
Quinn is confused, but the one thing she does know is she doesn't want to stay. Kurt is very likely to freak out upon waking, and she doesn't want to be around when that happens. Maybe if she leaves, Kurt will think he had some kind of alcohol induced dream.
But as she lifts the covers, she can tell that's a stupid hope. Her blood is all over the sheets, the bright red spot standing out like an accusation. She winces as she slowly puts her clothes back on, the pain from between her legs reminding her that she had been a virgin the night before.
Quinn looks over her shoulder at where he lies. He's got one hand thrown up near the headboard, and he looks so young she feels like a pedophile. He's actually a couple of months older than she is – Gemini to her Virgo, as they'd discussed last night before getting too drunk – but he doesn't look it. Kurt has such a baby face, which is why she'd been so surprised at the slender musculature under his clothes.
She ties her hair back up into a high ponytail, knowing it might be a bit messy but needing the symbolistic reassurance. She is Quinn Fabray, queen of the Cheerios, and she is in control. She holds her head up high as she ascends the stairs, not letting herself look back at where Kurts remains, sleeping off a hangover to match the one that's punishing her.
It didn't happen.
Denial might be the most attractive option, but it's not the easiest one. When she arrives at school the next day, Quinn thinks things are going to be terribly awkward... and she's right.
She's never spent time noticing Kurt Hummel (except to scornfully deride his sense of fashion), but it's like she's developed a sixth sense to know where he is. She's head Cheerio and doesn't have to acknowledge he exists, but all of the sudden she can't stop seeing him. He's everywhere she is, and Quinn watches as he gets tortured by the jocks on an hourly basis.
A part of her wants to make them stop, but she doesn't want to acknowledge that impulse. Kurt is a nobody to her, and there's no way she's going to spend any of her popularity capital on protecting him. He's a guy, and he should be able to stand up for himself.
Thankfully he never makes a move to speak to her, which is unexpected since Kurt seems like the type to want to "talk things out." That's what gay guys are supposed to be like, right? But he never, ever looks directly at her.
She throws herself into being the best Quinn she can be, ruthlessly pushing the Cheerios to work harder, and re-devoting herself to being Finn's girlfriend. She's not going to sleep with him (she's a born-again virgin, okay?), but she decides to allow him a couple extra liberties.
An episode in the hot tub results. Quinn cuts Finn's privileges.
She's convinces herself that things are going to be okay. It's not like sleeping with a gay guy really counts, and it doesn't bother her that Kurt tries to flee when he catches sight of her. She's used to losers getting out of her way.
It's with mixed emotions that she joins the Glee Club, but there's no way she'd going to let Rachel sink her claws into Finn. Her boyfriend will get over this stupid Glee thing soon enough, but Quinn's not taking any chances. She spends the time at club sitting with either Santana or Finn, ignoring the come hither looks Puck keeps subjecting her to.
She certainly doesn't allow herself to notice the way Kurt cringes every time she enters the room.
Her attempt at denying she's not a virgin anymore comes to a screeching halt about a month later. Morning sickness is cruel, but she can't avoid the consequences of her actions anymore. The pink positive on the pregnancy test confirms that denial is no longer an option.
This time Quinn does let herself have a panic attack. With the parasite growing inside her, she's lost all of her promises for the future. The shining life that was supposed to be hers won't be, since being an unwed teenaged mother isn't something for her college application. She's going to lose her position on the Cheerios, and as soon as people find out, she's going to become a punchline. No one's going to respect her anymore.
For a second, she's tempted to fix things the easy way. She doesn't want to think about it, but she knows Santana would know people who could help her out. It would take a couple weeks of her allowance, but she could make the problem go away.
The thought doesn't last for long. Whatever else she believes, she knows abortion is wrong and an unforgivable sin. She doesn't want this baby, but she's not going to become a murderer. She just needs to survive the next eight months.
After she makes that decision, the next hard one is figuring out how to explain this. So far, the only ones who know how this baby was created are her and Kurt, and she can't imagine him stepping forward to admit what happened. It's really hard for her not to be pissed off at him, since who would've thought that a gay guy's swimmers would prove so potent? She's going to have to come up with a good story on her own, but thankfully sweet Finn is dumber than a box of rocks and doesn't really know how babies are made.
Quinn doesn't count on Puck being a blabbermouth. The boy still resents her for not sleeping with him. An hour after Quinn tells Finn, Finn has talked to Puck, who immediately shares the news with Jacob Ben Israel. By the end of the day, it's all over the school that the president of the Celibacy Club and head Cheerio is preggers.
She can feel all the eyes on her as she makes her way down the hallway, but Finn appears by her side like magic, and no one is going to mess with him. He's such a good guy, she thinks, clutching his arm as they head for the doors. They're going to skip Glee today, though Finn doesn't know it's because she's avoiding a certain fashionable boy.
They're ten feet from the door when the voice of doom lashes out.
"You. Q. My office. Now."
Quinn's heard Sue Sylvester in many different moods (it's amazing that condescension can have so many tones), but she's never heard quite that level of suppressed rage. Quinn's rarely been the cause of Sue's ire, and she knows this is going to be very, very unpleasant.
"You'd better go," she tells Finn, keeping her spine straight as she turns like a condemned man ascending the gallows. "I'll call you later."
She doesn't look back. She knows he's still there, watching her with those pathetic puppy eyes. She doesn't want to see, because he'd make her feel even more guilty.
If that's possible.
Entering Coach Sylvester's office is like walking into a lion's den. It's full of shiny trophies, but Quinn never really notices them since she's always far too busy watching everything her coach does. Quinn is not about to underestimate Sue's capacity for cruelty. She's seen the remains of people who'd ticked Sue off in the past - they might be alive, but they usually wished they weren't.
Now she's about to add herself to their number.
Sue snaps her fingers at the chair in front of her desk. Quinn sits in it gingerly, barely resting her rear on the edge. She tells herself she's ready to make a quick escape if necessary, but the cynical part of her mind reminds her that nothing can stop Sue from murdering her. The woman keeps an AK-47 under her desk, a souvenir from her days in the Congo.
"Jewfro posted a rather insipid attempt at attacking my Cheerios today, Q. First you are going to tell me exactly where he might have gotten the idea that you let Finn Hudson not only go all the way, but impregnate you with his spawn. Then I am going to crush that mouth-breather like the maggot he is, and you will be the instrument of my divine wrath."
Quinn isn't the captain for nothing, and she has to draw on all that strength not to wilt under Sue's regard.
"It's true," she says. Her hand finds her stomach instinctively, knowing that a ball of cells is rapidly dividing and shaping itself into another human being. It kind of blows her mind, what's happening to her. But it gives Quinn a reason to be courageous.
Sue doesn't speak immediately, which worries Quinn. Sue is never without a ready comeback, so her uncharacteristic hesitation means she's about to erupt like Mount Saint Helens (or Finn one minute into a make-out session). Quinn wonders if she's going to walk out of this room alive.
Sue finally huffs in annoyance, reaching over to grab a pen and her Cheerios stationary. After scribbling something down, she hands it over to Quinn. To Quinn's shock, it was not a death threat, but a doctor's name and phone number. "I didn't think I'd have to share this information with you of all my Cheerios, but I have a referral discount with this guy."
Quinn blinks for a second, not quite processing what in her hands, and then she nearly vomits. Getting it done had cross her mind briefly, but she had rejected the idea before it had fully formed. She may be a sinner going to hell for have premarital sex, but she's not going to compound her sins by going through with it.
She can't even think about what Sue is offering
Wordlessly she crumbles the ball in her fist, before flinging the paper into the trash and standing up so she can look down on Sue for one brief, glorious second. She holds her head high, knowing she's just sealed her fate.
"I can't have a pregnant girl on my squad," Sue Sylvester warns her, rising to her feet as well. "You're off the Cheerios."
Quinn nods, even though she wants to break down and cry. Her very identity is tied around her position as Captain, and she's just lost that. She turns to walk away, but Sue Sylvester can't resist one last, stinging barb.
"You think this is hard? Try being an unwed single mother, that's hard." For once in her life, Sue Sylvester is not using a colorful exaggeration, since the truth is horrifying enough on its own.
Quinn keeps walking.
She's glad it's after school hours, since she can stumble down the hall with relatively little fear of someone seeing her. She's supposed to be in Glee today, but she can't bear to face anyone there. She doesn't want to have to deal with Santana's eagerness to replace her, or Rachel's attempts to be her "friend." If Quinn sees Puck right now, she's going to go for his eyes with her fingernails, and she doesn't want to see Finn because she'll feel guilty.
The one person she wants most to avoid Kurt, so it's no surprise to find him standing by her car, waiting for her.
Quinn just isn't getting her way today. It's like she's living in a bad teen sitcom.
Kurt doesn't look like he's ready to laugh at anything. His skin looks waxy and resembles the underside of a dead, two-day old fish, rather than its usual porcelain tones. He's dressed in a ruffly green shirt and contrasting orange and green pants, but she's not in the mood to point out that the sight of him is making her eyes burn. It's not just the clothes, but they're a big part of it.
"What are you doing here, Hummel?" she asks as she makes her way over to the car.
"You know why I'm here," he tells her, and his voice sounds just as superior as ever. "Rumor mill says you're preggers, and I want to take a paternity test."
Her mouth opens and she prepares to deny the very idea that he could be the father, but there's something hard in his eyes that makes the words freeze in her throat. She knows he is one of the smartest boys in the school, and he can do the math.
"You don't need to," she says.
"I think I do," he said. "While I may not have eidetic recall of that night, I remember enough to know there's a very good possibility that I'm going to be a father. And just because I'm gay doesn't mean my sperm doesn't work."
She doesn't understand how he's able to stand there and speak so calmly. His voice is sharp, but he's not scared, not like Finn had been and not like Quinn is.
Quinn has another choice to make, but there's really only one path she can take. While it's tempting to claim Finn as the father, the truth is going to come out. Kurt isn't going to let this go without proof. He's too smart to trust her word.
"That's not what I mean. I haven't slept with anyone else," she tells him, and her eyes feel wet from unshed tears. She's not about to break down, not in front of him."You're the father."
Finn would have stepped forward and hugged her, but Kurt stays a safe three feet away. He is still, so still that he looks like a manikin, and she thinks he's stopped breathing. Then he lets out a sound, a high-pitched sort of whimper, and lifts a hand to run it through his hair, messing up its perfect coiffure. She knows he must be really upset, since the amount of time he spends styling it is is a school joke.
They stand in silence for a couple of long, awkward minutes, and she can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. He is so pale that she thinks he looks like a refugee from the Twilight movies. "I need to think," he tells her finally, before spinning on his heel and walking away.
It's funny, but as she watches his departing back, Quinn feels more lonely than ever.
Quinn isn't the type to depend on anyone, so she's not going to wait for Kurt to make up his mind.
She spends the evening in her room, doing her homework like a good little girl. Eating dinner with her parents had been a nightmare, since her father was so proud of her impending coronation as the princess of the Celibacy Ball, and her mother had been fairly well toasted. Quinn can't remember the last time she had spoken to a sober mother.
She vows, right away, that her child will never see her under the influence. She's not sure if she's going to keep it, so it may not be that much of a commitment.
Despite taking honors classes, it doesn't take too long to finish her work. She doesn't have an excuse to procrastinate any longer. She has seven Cheerios uniforms, one for each day of the week, since Sue Sylvester does not recognize the need for weekends. Now that she's off the squad, she is going to have to return all of her gear, pronto. The last thing she wants is for Sue to have a concrete reason to come after her.
She digs through her closet to find all the uniforms, including the accessories. Most of the Cheerios' perks are less tangible – hello tanning privileges which are going to give Santana skin cancer before she turns twenty – but the pile is still sizable. Her closet is half-empty, and she realizes how few outfits she owns that didn't come from cheerleading. She's been on the squad since eighth grade (Sue makes a habit of raiding the nearby middle schools for talent), and for the past three years, Quinn's spent most of her time wearing a uniform.
It's just another reason to get a new wardrobe, she tries to tell herself, not wanting to listen to the cynical little voice in the back of her head that points out she won't have a choice, soon.
It's late enough at night that her parents are going to be in their room "sleeping." Quinn knows her parents have sex on a regimented schedule, and Thursdays at eight are on the calendar. She's used it to her advantage before, breaking curfew in a small display of teenage rebellion
She grabs the first pile of clothing to bring down to her car. She doesn't want to have to explain it to her parents, so she's going to get everything in the car right now. She doesn't worry about the squeaking of the steps, because her mother is being very loud. Thinking of her parents having sex makes her feel queasy, so she refuses to think on what's happening in their room.
Then there's nothing left to do. Quinn isn't very good at the art of laziness. She likes being busy, because she doesn't like to have time to think too deeply.
She could go troll Rachel's MySpace account, but she doesn't want to be a hypocrite. Rachel's blazing, irritating talent might make Quinn want to choke her with a microphone, but Rachel is definitely going to get out of Lima. Quinn's just committed herself to that life, since teenage mothers never get out.
So she does what any good Christian girl would do: she prays. She prays for forgiveness of her sins, and for guidance. She prays for the strength she's going to need, and she prays that her child is healthy. She prays for her family to support her, and she prays for God to stay with her, even though she's not worthy.
As she kneels, the tears start to roll down her face. She lets herself cry and feel sorry for herself, because there's no one around to see except for God, and surely He would understand.
Usually praying makes her feel more at peace, but this time is different. Her faith in an omnipotent, loving God has been shaken, and she's not sure He wants to hear her anymore since she's failed Him.
Around ten, her phone rings. She blinks at the unfamiliar number, wondering who has decided to track her down. It could be a crank call – in fact, it most likely was. It didn't take long for the carrion eaters to smell the death of her popularity. She didn't want to deal with crank calls from her former friends.
But it might be Kurt. He has her number from the Glee contact sheet Mr. Shuester handed out last month, so it's not outside the realm of possibilities. If it is, she wants to know what he's thinking, since the uncertainty is going to drive her insane. She hits the answer button. "Hello?"
There's a long pause, and then he speaks,"Hello, Quinn." Kurt has such a distinctive voice that she recognizes him instantly.
She freezes. She hadn't really expected Kurt to call, and she doesn't know what to say.
"Since I assume you're so overwhelmed due to the honor of speaking with me, I'm going to make this easy. We're going to have dinner together tomorrow at my house. We need to talk," he tells her, "and we can at least do it like civilized people."
She really wants to turn him down, but she can't. Kurt isn't going to back down – through their time in Glee, she's learned that he doesn't back off when there's something he wants. "Fine," she agrees. "Where do you live?"
"Three blocks away from you, princess," he tells her dryly. "Don't you remember?"
It's embarrassing, but she can't remember much of her walk of shame. She'd had a hangover and been trying to collect her dignity. She just wound up at her house, which indicates it is in walking distance. "Not really," she tells him, hating that she's admitting weakness. "Give me directions."
"It's 119 New Karner Road, " he says. "Be there by five." He hangs up a second later, and Quinn wishes she could scratch his eyes out for trying to command her.
She saves his number in her contacts, anyway.