Chapter Text
It’ll take a lot more than words and guns,
A whole lot more than riches and muscle.
The hands of the many must join as one,
And together we’ll cross the river.
‘The Humbling River - Puscifer’
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She didn’t know how long they’d been in the air, just that it was long enough for a chill to creep into the belly of the Sea Stallion they were all sitting in. Everyone was huddled together; she wouldn’t say cuddling because the idea of Chevy and Alex snuggling up to each other had her choking on a laugh, but most were pressed shoulder to shoulder, leaning heavily on one another.
They’d been fighting to stay alive for so long now that this brief respite, and the safety they all felt, had lulled them into the exhausted half-sleep of toddlers worn out from a day playing at the park.
Speaking of toddlers, she craned her neck, chin lifting from its perch atop of Rachel’s bent head so she could scan the dimly lit interior for the little girl, Becca. It took her a moment but she found her, curled up next to a small boy, sleeping like she didn’t have a worry in the world.
Quinn smiled tiredly and resettled into a semi-comfortable position with her ass on the hard, rattling floor and back pinned up against the ribs of the chopper. Rachel shifted at the movement, her arm squeezing Quinn’s waist. “Do you need me to move?”
“No,” Quinn said quickly, louder than she’d intended. She ducked her head sheepishly and repeated herself at a quieter volume. “No. You’re fine where you are. You’re keeping me warm.”
Rachel hummed lowly and Quinn sucked back a gasp when Rachel nuzzled against her chest. Nuzzled. Clearly Rachel was just as tired as the rest of the group to be doing such a thing. But once Quinn’s heart settled back down at the unexpected and sweet gesture she found herself wishing that Rachel would do it again. Neither of them were who they once were; their ability to adapt and survive was an obvious and necessary change that had kept them alive, but that small, unconscious, intimate thing was more reminiscent of old Rachel instead of her Rachel as she’d come to think of her, and Quinn wanted to see if she could bring out some other parts of old Rachel. Maybe something between old Rachel and her Rachel, if such a feat were possible considering the lives they were living.
“Still mad at me?” Quinn asked, very carefully and strategically brushing her lips with the barest of contact against Rachel’s hair. They tingled afterwards and the anxiousness of what Rachel would do had her shaking ever so slightly, but she was proud of her efforts, small as they might be.
“Infuriated,” Rachel mumbled, drawing back her arm to lazily poke a finger into Quinn’s belly. “You jerk.”
“Does this mean there will be yelling later? My ears are still kind of ringing from all the gunfire and Chevy’s grenade, so I’m not sure how much will get through,” Quinn joked as she shuffled her shoulders to inch down further on the wall.
“I’ll yell extra loud to make sure you understand each and every word.” Rachel started to pick her head up and Quinn’s heart leapt into her throat, muscles tensing, waiting for Rachel to pull away completely. She merely squinted at Quinn for a long moment and frowned thoughtfully, then laid back down, squirming around until she’d found a comfy spot again.
“What was that about?” Quinn raised an eyebrow, bewildered.
“It’s weird, this feeling like everything’s okay. I haven’t felt calm or relief like this in years. I’m joking with you and there isn’t the undercurrent of – of not knowing if there will be a later for me to yell at you. Does that make sense? I guess I was checking to see if this was real or not.”
“You know when we land things are going to go back to the way they were. It’ll be dangerous again,” Quinn said and hesitantly touched her fingers to Rachel’s hair. She’d done it before but it felt different this time. “We’re in the lull, hanging literally in the air, but we’ll be back on Earth soon enough and the peace will pass.”
“Maybe,” Rachel argued faintly, her fingers plucking at a hole in Quinn’s shirt. “If the ship is clean it could be a haven, considering what we’ve all been through.”
“Even if there aren’t any… even then, Broadway, life at sea is not a pleasure cruise. There are all sorts of things that could go wrong.”
“Again, I feel the need to ask... did you learn about ships while on a movie set? Because I can’t recall a single film of yours being set on the high seas,” Rachel said, a now familiar lilt in her voice that told Quinn she was only lightly teasing – but mostly curious.
“Ah, well, I may have been cast in a new pirate-type film with Hunter Parrish right before… So I was doing lots of research,” Quinn explained, mildly surprised to not feel the sting of loss when she thought about the could-have-beens.
Rachel was very still for a few moments and Quinn wondered if she’d fallen asleep until she spoke again. “Was this like a Pirates of the Caribbean reboot? Because I suddenly feel the urge to find an enclosed space to scream in.”
“No, no,” Quinn denied with a short shake of her head. “No need for screaming. It was more of an Indiana Jones type thing.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad, I suppose. Where would you have been filming?”
Quinn smirked and raised an eyebrow, even though Rachel wouldn’t be able to see it. “The Bahamas for some of it and back in LA for the rest.”
“Wow, I kind of hate you right now,” Rachel muttered and then sighed. “I was supposed to be filming “Wicked” but we were going to be in Toronto and that is decidedly not the Bahamas.”
“Your ‘Defying Gravity’ was always amazing,” Quinn told her, smirk softening as she easily fell back into the memory of Kurt and Rachel battling for the song. “You were going to play Elphaba?”
“Of course,” Rachel answered with a touch of her old primness. “And thank you, I didn’t think you were paying attention that day.”
“I always paid attention; I just chose not to involve myself whenever possible.” Quinn sighed, trying to ignore the sick rolling feeling in her gut. Either hunger, stress, turbulence, or memories were to blame, or maybe a combination of all of them. “I meant what I said, Rachel. Just because we aren’t on land anymore doesn’t mean this is going to be any easier. In some ways it could be harder. We’ll be trapped and Mother Nature is a killer.”
“I know that, Quinn,” Rachel replied softly, not an ounce of annoyance or heat in her tone. “I just feel like it’s going to be okay now. I’m not expecting life to suddenly get any easier at all. We’re survivors of a viral holocaust being chased down by monsters that never stop, but here in this moment I feel we’ve crossed some sort of landmark, cleared an obstacle that seemed impossible. It feels like – like maybe we have a chance.”
Rachel stopped fiddling and wrapped both her arms around Quinn’s waist, hugging her loosely. “I – I feel different, lighter, like some of that burden is gone, and… this is the part where we change again. It’s all going to change again.”
Quinn forced herself to relax and accept Rachel’s embrace, tamping down the urge to distance herself. Rachel wasn’t trying to hurt her; if anything she was handling Quinn so gently, as though afraid she’d break her. “You’re not afraid of that?”
“I am, but I’m hoping that – sometimes change is good. I’m looking at the positives right now because I can,” Rachel said, loosening further until her arms were simply laying limp around Quinn, resting against her rather than holding. “When we land I’ll start looking at all the angles; right now I just want to be. I want to enjoy the lull, as you called it, because I don’t know when I’ll get another chance. It could be soon or it could be another thing to strive for. That next moment of rest may be the goal that keeps me moving.”
It was a silent shift but a powerful one, that Quinn felt deep in her gut at Rachel’s words, a longing so strong that her breath caught in lungs. She could almost see it, that moment where they could be at peace, when things were no longer as hard as they had been. Maybe not ever completely safe but more manageable to the point where they could really begin to heal.
She wanted it so badly for all of them, but she wanted it worse for Rachel.
“Then let’s take this break for as brief or long as it lasts,” she said, letting her head fall back and eyes slip closed. Her head was aching, a constant throb to the beat of her heart, and she couldn’t actually sleep but she kept her eyes closed and let her mind drift, daring to dream about the future.
Her imagination ran wild, conjuring images of a sunny beach, the sand warm under her bare feet, a soft salty breeze tossing her hair and swaying the palm fronds over her head. She felt no fear, wasn’t looking over her shoulder, or scanning the horizon for danger. Down the beach there were rough little huts constructed, tables and chairs carved out, people gathered around fires, cooking and laughing while some slept in hammocks after a long day of scavenging and hunting for food. Rachel would be there, too, of course, looking younger and happier, with her hand in Quinn’s.
It was so easy to picture it all, even if it made her ache, and she couldn’t help but wonder if her love for Robinson Crusoe was to blame for such a setting or if the talk of the Bahamas had brought such images to her mind.
Still, she thought with a small smile and peek at the others around her, it wasn’t a bad thing to dream about and maybe, just maybe, someday she would live to see it come to life.
Hopefully without the cannibals – she’d really had enough of all of that.
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TBC…