Hi everyone this is my first ever fanfic. I have always read but never written so please no negative feedback. I'm open to constructive criticism. I write because I enjoy it. Also I do not own nothing. I would also like to give a special thanks to "KingOfHell00" for being my beta. And to QueenDiannaAgron for helping me.

What was kept hidden

"Rachel! Rachel!" Was all Santana could say as she knocked again and again on the small diva's door.

"C'mon, Rae! You've been locked up in your room for days. I'm getting kind of tired of being ignored here."

Exasperated, Santana decided to just pick the lock. She was tired of her texts and calls being ignored, so it was time she took matters into her own hands and help the diva from self destructing. Upon opening the door, peering at the small brunette beneath the blankets, she noticed her tear stained face.

Gently sitting on the edge of the bed beside Rachel, Santana leaned over and wiped her face with a wipe she pulled from the bedside dresser.

"Hey you, how you feeling?" Santana said as she finished cleaning up her dearest friend's face.

Looking up into those deep brown eyes, Rachel knew she couldn't keep this from her best-est friend. So much had happened in only a span of a week, and the only person that knows her like the back of her hand is Santana.

Sighing, Rachel closed her eyes momentarily, building up the courage she needed. Finally opening her eyes, she leaned into Santana for support; both physically and emotionally.

"I met my mom."

Silence encompassed the room, as both the Latina cheerleader and the small diva processed what Rachel had just said.

"What? How? When?" Was all Santana could sputter.

"I thought your mom didn't want you? She gave you up, Rae!" So many thoughts plagued Santana's mind.

"They lied, San. They told me she never wanted me, that all she wanted was the money. They kept her from me for 14 years!"

"How do you know they were lying, Rae? They've always been very doting, caring, and involved in your life. I just don't get it."

"San, I found letters in the basement. I was looking for old photographs for our family tree project in English class, and accidentally found them hidden away in an old shoe box."

"Letters? What kind of letters?" Santana asked, her brow furrowed in a mix of curiosity and confusion.

"I'm not sure, they looked like letters dated for each of my birthdays."

Rachel guessed her mom had to care somewhat if she took the time to remember and write letters to her every year. But why not just call or come visit? Or not have left at all.

Rachel loved her fathers, she really did. They gave her everything she could ever want (although, having them home more often would suffice). Growing up, Rachel faced a lot of discrimination. Having two fathers had never been easy. But, on the bright side, she got to be raised in a very loving and open minded environment. She learned early on that having thick skin was crucial, since people could be very hateful and ignorant, at times. None of that bothered her, though. If no one wanted to be her friend, or even talk to her because she had two dads, then it was their loss. She would be getting out of this small town eventually, anyway.

She asked once, if she had a mom, when she was six. All the other kids in her class had moms', and were making Mothers Day cards. The truth was, she felt kind of left out. Both her dads told her that she didn't have a mom, that she didn't need one, and that she had them and that was all that mattered. She never got the courage to ask them again. Later, when Rachel was ten, her fathers told her that her mother had given her up to pursue her career, that she didn't want to be a mother, but that they had been ready to be parents. And so, they were blessed with her. She concluded that her mother just didn't want her, and left it at that. She had two parents that loved her, what more could she ask for, she thought.

Except now, with all the copious amounts of questions Rachel had all week. She never opened the letters. Who knows what they would say. And did she even want to read them?

"Have you opened the letters yet? And how did you meet your mom? How do you know who she is if you never met her?"

"Oh my God! Santana, really?" Rachel stated in an exasperated tone.

"What? I want to know! You've been keeping this from me for like a week. I don't like being kept in the dark here."

Sending a silent apology, Rachel said, "I don't know where to begin."

"I have so many questions myself. I don't know what to think, I really thought she didn't want me, San. What if she's just saying she wants me, then doesn't the next?"

"Look, just think positively, okay?"

Rachel sucked in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then replied, "Okay, okay, you're right. I guess I'll start from the beginning, then."

The small diva retold the Latina cheerleader everything that had transpired from finding the letters in the basement, to the ultrasound that had her mother's name on it. She confessed to listening to a tape that she found in the box of letters, and how she listened to it every night until she fell asleep. Rachel then told her how she looked up every Shelby Corcoran that there was in the state of Ohio and the state of New York. She found only one close by in Akron. She then mentioned how she hopped on a bus to Akron one day, and snuck into the Carmel High School auditorium, where Shelby worked as the director of Vocal Adrenaline.

"You hopped a bus... without me? I'm not sure if I should be proud, or pissed that you didn't include me. We're best friends, Rae." Santana sighed disappointingly.

"Look, San, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just needed time to process all this. I never wanted to keep things from you, let alone something of this importance. You are my person, the only one who gets me or understands me. Please don't be mad at me, I need you," Rachel said apologetically.

"Okay, okay. Enough of all the mushy crap, keep telling me what happened when you met your mom."

A bright, watery eyed, megawatt smile appeared on the small diva's face when she realized Santana wasn't really mad at her.

"Awe, c'mon. Don't look at me with those large, brown, anime eyes!"

"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm just happy you aren't really mad at me. Besides, I know how impossible it is for you to stay mad at me when I give you the eyes." Rachel laughs as she attempts to duck an on coming pillow.

Finally catching her breath, Rachel resituated herself so that she was sitting and facing Santana. "So when I made it to the auditorium, I felt like I could barely breathe, San."

Hoping to calm her some, Santana gripped the small diva's hand in her own.

Sending a nod and smile in thanks, Rachel continued explaining how she came to meeting her mom. She knew the moment she saw Shelby's face that they were related. It was like looking into a mirror thirty years into the future. The small diva sat in the back of the auditorium undetected, memorized by the sheer commanding presence of Shelby Corcoran. What finally broke her hypnotized state was the magic that was her mother's voice. As Shelby sung "Funny Girl" from her all time favorite movie with Barbra Streisand, she knew without a doubt that this was her mom. Of course, she also had amazing voice recognition.

Sitting on the balls of her feet in anticipation, Santana smiled encouragingly. "You got this. Tell me how she reacted to meeting you."

Sighing, the tiny diva stated how Shelby's voice was so captivating that she was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and before she knew what was happening, her feet seemed to develop a mind of their own as they began moving her toward the older woman.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!"

"Will you please calm down! Or I'll never get through this," Rachel stated, exasperated.

Popping her mouth shut, Santana made a zipper motion across her lips in silent understanding.

Grateful for the compliance, Rachel continued, once again. "I felt like I couldn't control my feet, and before I knew it, we were face to face." Rachel paused, wiping some tears from her face with the palms of her hand. "San, I ran. I told her who I was, and that I knew she was my mother. Then, she looked behind her and told all her students practice was over. We sat in some of the auditorium chairs." The brunette paused again, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I didn't feel the connection I thought we were going to feel instantly, like in the movies. Ugh, Santana, we just sat there in silence and I panicked. I didn't even speak to her other than stating she was my biological mother. I simply looked at her in hopes of her saying something, anything. But... nothing happened, so I just stood up and ran out of there."

Sitting back on her heals, Santana spoke to the other girl in a gentle, sympathetic tone. "Wow... I'm really sorry things didn't work out, Rae. But you still have me, Britt, Q, and sometimes your parents. you're not alone, we have your back, okay?"

Looking up into her best friend's dark brown eyes, Rachel felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. She knew that she should have been honest with Santana from the beginning. The tiny diva was thankful for having her in her life, and knowing that she was always there anytime Rachel needed a friend, that was enough for her.