Disclaimer: I do not own glee or any of it's characters.

Chapter 1: Blood Omen

For as long as Rachel could remember, she had known that her mother, Cassandra July, loved her. It was never the "love" part that Rachel doubted. Her mother told her consistently, every day or more, that she loved her. It was the definition of the word Rachel questioned.

Love, defined by the bible, was patient and kind.

Love, in Buddhism, was something that could defeat hatred.

Love, defined by the first result given by Google is "an intense feeling of deep affection".

If Rachel was grateful for one thing about her mother it was that she was not religious.

Her mother was strict, temperamental, and unpredictable. As a younger child Rachel had loathed her for it. Now she had come to understand that her mother was under a lot of stress as a single parent, and that she was doing the best she could. This didn't, however, prevent her actions from having an effect on Rachel.

Rachel walked through the halls in a daze, trying to transport her brain to a fantasy place after the verbal lashing she had received from her mother last night. She was failing Geometry, and her mother had used up most of her homework time to scream at her about it.

Rachel was thinking of a meadow, draped in sunlight. The sunlight would be warm, comforting, in contrast with the slight dampness of the grass, but together the water and the light would work to heal her, to clear her mind.

On her iPod she listened to West Side Story's "Somewhere".

She saw it a second too late. Her brain was too dazed and drugged off of music and fantasy to react as the book snapped into her face.

Rachel stopped in her tracks, pulling her head back at the pain. The stack of books tumbled to the floor.

"I'm so sorry!" Rachel said. She stooped to pick up the books without looking at the person she had run into.

She handed the books back to the large smooth hands, only making eye contact with the women's shoulder, anxious and embarrassed as she was. The women had only been carrying two books, and Rachel had gathered them up before the women could do more than bend at the waist.

"Are you okay?" The women said. "Look at me."

The command seemed to pull Rachel's eyes up to the women's face as if her head were on a string that was being pulled in the women's direction. When Rachel met the women's eyes it was all she could do not to gasp. She sucked in air and held her breath. Her eyes were warm and familiar. They seemed to hold Rachel tenderly, as if they were strong arms.

Or, the thought came to Rachel as if it were a breeze passing through her ears, a soft white hospital pillow.

"You have blood on your face," The women's words cut through the moment without fully breaking it's effects.

"I do?" Rachel brought a finger up to the sting on her cheek. It came away moist. "Sorry," Rachel said again before lurching forward and brushing past the women, heading for the nearest bathroom.

Sure enough, there was blood on her face, a thin sharp line, like a papercut. Rachel took a paper towel, wet it in the sink, and started dabbing at it.

Rachel saw Quinn approaching her in the mirror. She felt her body tense.

"Rachel, are you okay?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, I'm just such a klutz," Rachel said with a little laugh, her voice deliberately casual. She was always happy and surprised when her voice came out the right way around Quinn. She always took care to make it sound at it's best when Quinn was in earshot, even just for speaking. Quinn was very musical, and had the most beautiful of voices. "I ran into a teacher in the hall, knocked all of the books out of their hands, and I guess I cut my face on their book too."

"I'm not surprised Berry," Quinn said, but her voice was affectionate. "Hey, you were one of the people who auditioned for Mr. Schue's glee club right?"

"Yeah," Rachel said in a quieter voice. "But I didn't get in."

"I didn't get in either." Quinn stated matter-of-factly. "But he wanted me to tell you, and the other people who didn't get in that the choir teacher, Ms. Corcoran, is starting her own, rival glee club."

Rachel liked the way that Quinn said 'you' the way she seemed to pause over the word, as if in her mind, Rachel was separated from all of the other people.

"Apparently she's going to whip our butts into shape and make us even better than Mr. Schue's club in less than a week."

"Oh really?" Rachel raised her eyebrows. It was undeniably sexy to hear Quinn use the word 'butts' even though Quinn didn't usually talk that way.

"Hey, his words not mine. Well, technically her words I guess. Mr. Schue seemed doubtful. But he doesn't want us to stop doing music just because we didn't make it into his club. Auditions are this friday. Come if you want, I'll be there."

"Okay. When? And where?"

"3:30, sharp. In the choir room. Don't be late..." Quinn started walking out of the bathroom, sending Rachel her smile over her shoulder.

Rachel let out a sigh when Quinn was gone. Auditioning for anything was NOT her favorite thing to do. But she would do almost anything for a chance to spend more time with Quinn.

~R~Q~R~

On Friday, Kurt walked with Rachel to the choir room for moral support. The whole week, he had been trying his hardest not to gloat about the fact that he had made it into Mr. Schue's prestigious glee club, and Rachel hadn't. He was trying, but it was hard. He couldn't just completely not mention the club that was the biggest part of his day around his best friend. Rachel appreciated his efforts.

"Ugh, I'm exhausted," Kurt told Rachel as they walked. "I swear, if Mr. Schue keeps drilling us this hard, my vocal cords will be broken by next week."

"Well, at least you get to sing." Rachel said.

Kurt noticed her tone and expression. "Don't worry, Rachel," He said, apologetically, "I'm sure you'll get in, then we'll both be toast."

Rachel forced a small smile. They were nearing the choir room and her nerves were rising like a swarm of disturbed dust bunnies in a neglected garage. "Wish me luck?"

"Good luck, Rachel. But I know you don't need it."

Rachel gave Kurt a broad smile, which was hindered by her nerves. She found that forcing herself to smile through them, even if it was hard to get the muscles in her face to cooperate -helped calmed them down.

Rachel opened the door. Everyone was already seated in the chairs on the risers. She was late. People turned to look at her. Quinn smiled and mouthed "hi," red lips moving around gleaming white teeth.

Rachel glanced instinctively toward the center of the room and froze. She recognized the women sitting with her chair pulled out and in front of her desk –with no barriers, her body exuded confidence. What she didn't understand, is why the sight of the women made her feel terrified, while simultaneously comforted in a way that she had never experienced before, in a way she couldn't describe.

Ms. Corcoran was the women who Rachel had ran into on that day. Her books had drawn blood onto Rachel's face. Perhaps the blood had left a mark on the pages as well.

Author's Note: Hello readers! If you are new to my works, I hope you liked what you just read and feel free to leave a review. If you are someone who has read She Brings Her Home or any of my other works I hope you liked this and feel free to leave a review as well. I know it's not exactly a sequel to She Brings Her Home, but the idea for this story is very similar to the ideas in that story and I am looking forward to exploring it farther.