So this story is a bit alternative universe-y. It takes place roughly around the time of season one and is centered around the idea that Puck and Rachel are siblings (I plan on structuring it in a series of time lapses – flashbacks/present time things like that).
Other than that, generally everything else about the show will generally remain the same but I'll try to scatter the changes throughout the actual story/make notes about them. But if you get confused, or notice I'm missing something, feel free to point it out because I'm scatterbrained and more often than not have an idea that makes sense in my head even though it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever written down :)
One more quick note, for those of you interested in pairings, this won't really be a relationship-based story, but I'm shooting for a little bit of Finn/Rachel, mentions of Noah/Santana but leaning more towards Brittney/Santana and a tad bit of Quinn/Finn. So basically just like how it is in the show.
Thanks in advance for taking the time to read this. It's my first time ever really posting anything that I've written so it means the world. Feel free to tell me what you think!
Prologue – December, 2000
The bruise presents itself in the shape of a circle roughly the size of an adult fist so that where it sits, directly between Rachel's shoulder blades; miniscule for even a four year old, it looks enormous. Her dance teacher is the one to find it; early one Saturday rehearsal as she is being fitted for the dress that she's to wear during the following week's holiday recital.
"Rachel sweetie, where did you get this?" She asks the child, swiveling her around so that she could identify the offending mark in the full length mirror before her for herself.
"I don't know," Rachel shrugs casually, uninterested as she reaches over her head, stretching her toothpick-thin arms to their absolute threshold in an effort to rub it off without success.
"Does it hurt?" Miss Kirstin leans at her hips, matching Rachel's tiny height as the young girl shakes her head fervently.
"Does it hurt now, freak?" From around the corner, a small Latina emblazoned by the mismatch of a short pink tutu and lime green tights scurries towards the smaller girl and presses her palm hard against the bruise prominently outlining her classmate's spine.
Rachel howls with pain instantaneously, her back curving instinctually away from the touch so that the straight-head sewing pins stuck precariously about the waist of her dress pinch at her skin, making an already unfortunate situation exponentially worse.
"Santana Lopez!" Miss Kirstin scolds the child quickly, but the feisty child has already disappeared down the length of the hallway –
Out of sight, out of mind, and just out of reach.