A/N: Oh . . . My . . . Gawd! AAH! I'm baaaaack, baby! And so, so, so excited about it! I've sincerely missed writing drabbles, and I'm ecstatic that this second installment is now under way.

I'm going to apologize to anyone who has me on author alert, because I've been on a writing hiatus for far too long (even though it's only been, like, a month since I last posted something). That, to me, is far too long. Especially after being used to posting a drabble almost every day. I won't bore you with excuses, just know that I am back.

As is painfully clear seeing as I am now posting this drabble, I am currently back to writing drabbles as well as my series of Character Pieces. Last night I finished Santana (yay!) and will post that after I have this up on the site. (If you have not checked out my character pieces, feel free to do so and let me know what you think!)

All of the other things I may have mentioned writing are in the works. This last month I have not been writing at all (up until last night), so no progress has been made on those, unfortunately. But I am now back to focusing on my writing, as my muse has decided to return to me for the time being.

This A/N is far too long, and for that I apologize. I just hope that all who enjoyed Drabbles A La Glee enjoy this as well (along with those who did not read Drabbles A La Glee).

I hope you enjoy this first (well, 101st, really) drabble!

Will S. Set after 'Journey'.

They've been through a lot – and he means a lot – of stuff in the last couple of months.

Ever since Glee started things have been tough. With Rachel Berry storm outs, pregnancy drama (and baby daddy drama), competition for solos and leads, a traitor in their midst who played with their self-proclaimed star's heart, home troubles, and Sue's attempts to destroy the club, they've been up to their necks in mischief and troubles.

And he doesn't regret any of it.

Because without it, they wouldn't be the club they are today. They wouldn't have a (however unwilling) respect for each other. They wouldn't have the hope – the belief – that they can make it through anything.

And that's a belief that's worth all the heartbreak and slushies and Sue Sylvester in the world.

As he stands on that stage with his kids (minus the two new parents) he feels his palms starting to sweat. His kids deserve to win. If not because they gave the best performance (which he, as their teacher, believes they did), then because they've been through so much and want it more than anyone else – especially Vocal Adrenaline's soulless automatons – ever could.

And if they don't win, they at least deserve second for no other reason than to keep the club afloat. Because they deserve, without a doubt, the right to express themselves and be equals for 40 minutes, three times a week.

Out in the cruel high school hallways, they face judgment and stereotypes. Some face slushies and dumpster dives and cruel nicknames; some dish them out. But in the choir room, if only for a short while, they're all on even ground; whether they'll admit it or not. And that's something everybody deserves.

'Why do judges always take so long?' he wonders to himself, wiping his palms on his pants. Why can't they just get up on stage and announce that his kids have gotten what they deserve?

(He's always known that people don't always get what they deserve. So why is it such a shock this time?)

Even as his kids deflate and he goes through the motions of packing away the choir room, he knows – from the very depths of his heart – that it's not the end. Somehow, a fairy will fly on by and wave her magic wand and set everything straight.

(Turns out the biggest shock of all isn't them losing.

It's Sue Sylvester, the fairy.)

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