Now I really hope that you could have continued Awake!Quinn. What would be the ending if you had had continued it? Was it all just a dream when Quinn was in a coma or did Quinn actually need to pick one timeline to be real? I guess what I was trying to ask is before it all ended when Quinn was still living in two timelines, would she eventually know which one she doesn't want to live without? Her ability to walk or her Rachel?
This was part of the problem–I couldn’t quite decide how I wanted to tie it all together.
At first, Quinn was only going to remember her life prior to the “canon” accident so that she’d believe the reality where she was slowly recovering the use of her legs and Rachel was married would be real while the other would be a very realistic delusion she was having. But gradually, she’d be remembering bits and pieces of that other timeline in both realities–where basically she’d made one different decision by refusing to live with Puck after Finn kicked her out during babygate and ended up sleeping in the school until Rachel found her, and their relationship grew from there.
I was thinking along the lines that the accident had intersected the two timelines and one of the Quinns actually should have died but instead they were now sharing a soul kind of deal. I suppose that I was leaning toward paralyzed Quinn actually having additional complications down the line and dying after all, leaving her to wake up permanently in the original timeline, only her Rachel would have been having second thoughts about Finn and growing closer to Quinn as she helped her recover. So hopeful ending for the unrequited version when Rachel decides to file for divorce.
silentbutsure replied to your post:this constant teasing of the deliciously...
ARE YOU SERIOUS I WOULD HAVE WEPT REAL TEARS
Yes. After Quinn’s accident in season three, I considered turning my abandoned Amnesia!Rachel fic into an Awake!Quinn. I even rewrote the first scene. Like so:
Amidst her jumbled thoughts and growing fear, she feels Rachel squeeze her hand tightly. “Oh, God, Quinn. You’re awake,” she whispers in awe, tears beginning to fall without restraint. “Thank God, you’re finally awake.” The girl smiles tremulously, reaching out with her free hand to brush back a strand of Quinn’s hair before resting it on her cheek in an overly familiar gesture that Quinn doesn’t understand. “You’ve had us all so worried.”
Quinn wants to ask why, she wants to ask what happened, but she still feels so foggy and her head is still aching and she’s absolutely terrified, so she closes her eyes again, just for a moment, just to compose herself. Rachel’s hand over hers tightens painfully.
“Oh, no…no, don’t close your eyes again…please, Quinn, please don’t leave me…”
She does what Rachel asks on instinct and because the panic and desperation in the girl’s voice is impossible to ignore, but it doesn’t make any sense to Quinn. She’s only ever imagined Rachel Berry looking at her this way in her most fevered dreams.
“Am…am I dying?” she finally manages to rasp.
Rachel’s expression is pained, but she’s quick to say, “No,” though the word is weak and breathy. Her thumb brushes at the moisture on Quinn’s cheek, wiping away tears that Quinn hadn’t even known were there, and when Rachel speaks again, her voice is stronger and infused with a hint of the determination that had kept her standing strong against every insult and setback that she’s ever suffered. “You’re going to be just fine now. I promise.” She moves her hand away from Quinn’s face reluctantly and reaches over to press the call button.
Quinn watches Rachel’s every movement. She takes another fortifying breath and forces her voice to cooperate. “W-what happened?”
Rachel swallows thickly, her eyes briefly fluttering closed before meeting Quinn’s gaze. “There was an accident. Some drunken idiot ran a stop sign,” she trails off brokenly just as a nurse rushes into the room. The stocky redhead’s concerned expression relaxes as she gets closer to the bed, and she smiles kindly at Rachel.
“Is she responsive this time?” Rachel’s strained face brightens for the first time and she nods, but her attention remains on Quinn. “I’ll page Dr. Walters,” the nurse promises as she checks the monitors at Quinn’s bedside and makes some quick notations on her chart. She flashes a little grin before she turns to leave. “Welcome back, Ms. Fabray,” and Quinn irritably wonders where she’s supposed to be coming back from.
Quinn’s attention turns back to Rachel, and she frowns. “How bad is it?” she asks weakly, dreading the answer. She doesn’t stop to think that asking this of Rachel is probably inappropriate and so far beyond the boundaries of their tentative kind-of-friendship. She needs immediate answers more than she cares about etiquette right now.
Quinn watches Rachel’s jaw clench before the she hisses out a shaky breath. “We should probably wait for the doctor,” she hedges.
“Please,” Quinn cuts in desperately, “tell me.”
Rachel closes her eyes and swallows visibly. “The accident,” she begins, but her voice cracks almost immediately and she shakes her head in frustration. Her eyes stay tightly shut. “The impact was on the driver’s side,” she tries again in a tightly controlled monotone. “You were hit by a pickup truck. The frame b-buckled…and you…you w-were…pinned inside,” Rachel chokes out around a stifled sob. She swipes at the tears on her cheeks impatiently, and her eyes finally open only to stare fixedly at the opposite wall where the blind is closed against the window. “They had to cut you out,” she whispers brokenly.
Quinn listens to every word with a growing sense of horror and frustration, because she didn’t ask Rachel for a graphic play-by-play of the supposed accident that landed her here. She really just wants to know how badly she’s injured. She sucks in a breath and feels her lungs burn and her side ache, and then she curls her fingers into her palms, digging her nails in until she feels the pain. She surreptitiously glances down her body to see that her hands are indeed closed into fists. Rachel’s left hand still lightly resting over her wrist where Quinn can feel the warmth on her skin. Quinn attempts to wiggles her toes, but the sheet draped over her feet is mockingly still.
Paralyzed, she realizes with escalating dread, not realizing that she’s whispered the word out loud.
Rachel exhales on a shuddering breath. “T-there was some swelling around your spinal cord…and,” she chokes off a sob, but Quinn’s throat is tight and her heart is hammering, spiking the monitor into overdrive. She feels like she can’t breathe, and she certainly can’t see through the devastated tears spilling from her eyes. Rachel’s hand tightens over hers. “They don’t know that it’s permanent, Quinn. They’ll be able to…to evaluate your condition better now that you’re awake.”
She can’t speak past her pitiful sobs, and she can’t think past the painful realization that she might never walk again. “Where’s my mom?” she asks desperately, yearning for her mother’s arms to wrap her up and tell her everything will be okay.
“She just went for some coffee. She’ll be back any minute,” Rachel tearfully assures her.
Quinn focuses on her breathing, struggling to get it under control, and as she does so, she becomes even more aware of the pain she feels in her chest and torso and the devastating numbness below her waist. Little snippets of fuzzy memories start to filter back.
Yale. Regionals. Rachel’s wedding….
The pain in her chest intensifies, and she stifles another sob. Every repressed emotion that she’s ever felt for Rachel Berry rises up to torment her with what she’ll never have. And now she won’t even have her fresh start at Yale to look forward to.
Rachel presses her hand back to Quinn’s cheek, wiping her tears and sweeping her hair back as she tries to calm her. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay, Quinn. You’re the strongest person I know, and you’re going to be back on your feet in no time. We’ll get through this together,” she promises.
“What about Finn?” she spits weakly.
Rachel’s hand stills in her hair. “What about him?”
“He’s your husband now, isn’t he? You can’t make any promises to me.”
“What are you talking about, Quinn?” Rachel asks in genuine confusion. “I’m not married to Finn Hudson.”
Quinn’s vision isn’t 20/20 without her contacts, but it’s good enough to reveal that Rachel’s expression is genuinely confused and--horrified?
“You…you didn’t marry him?” Quinn breathes.
“Why in Barbra’s name would I marry that moron?” Rachel mutters in confusion, eyes suddenly going wide with worry as her fingers trace along Quinn’s forehead. “Oh, God. Dr. Walters said you might experience some disorientation, but…Quinn do you know what year it is?”
Quinn feels her stomach turn as she studies Rachel more closely—Rachel, whose hair is suddenly about four inches shorter and whose bangs have magically grown out and who--Jesus, who’s wearing a gold necklace with the letter Q.
