I noticed while writing this that there are quite a few spelling discrepancies between Canada/Europe and the States. As I am Canadian, I left many of the words the way I would usually spell them and ignored what was telling me to do (my Microsoft Word provides me with the Canadian spellings, not the American spellings, of words such as behaviour, colour, counsellor, dreamt, etc.) I'm only saying this because I know that when I'm reading a fic and there are like 25346467 spelling mistakes, I sometimes close it just because it's giving me a headache. (Am I the only one?) Anyways, I think I have pretty good grammar and whatnot. Back to my point, sorry if the spelling annoys you, and don't hate on me because I'm Canadian ;D.

As always, reviews are lovely (we Will/Rachel fans have to stick together) and I try to respond to every review I receive. Hope you like it!

xxx

"If you really want to even begin to understand me, then you need to understand that I'm the type of girl who always over-exaggerates everything."

I was ready to get down to business. I didn't care about the pretty little waterfall in the corner of the room or the single orchid on his desk or his clearly expensive suit. This was about me.

"I know I do it. Sometimes I try not to, but what's the use in denying who I am? I don't care if people make fun of my clothes or the way I speak. I won't be happy if I have to spend the rest of my life being cautious around the people I 'love'. If they don't love me back for who I really am, they don't really love at all, now do they? I should also tell you that I have an overactive imagination. At least, that's what my teachers have been telling me since pre-k. I daydream every day. I find it difficult to fall asleep with so many thoughts running through my mind. While they sometimes focus on my future career as a star on Broadway, as they have since I gained the ability to think, they are becoming increasingly romance-focused. And though I find myself temporarily interested in virtually every boy who so much as looks at me - why is that, by the way? - my dreams and ambitions, (other than myself, of course) are always starring one person. The same person. Why can't I just be care-free like everybody else my age, satisfied with getting wasted or baked and hooking up with practical strangers every week? Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to be like that."

"Breathe, Rachel."

I glared at my new therapist as he wrote something down in the simple notebook he was holding. I understood his comment, and that it was warranted. But my Rachel Berry instinct to defend myself kicked in before I even knew what I was saying.

"Dr. Leonard, I am opening up to you, yet you feel it necessary to comment on my breathing patterns? I came to you because I no longer find my school guidance counsellor of nearly four years to be adequate; that, and because she was once romantically involved with the potential love of my life, whom I guarantee I will be talking about quite often. But that doesn't mean I can't find another therapist." In my head I knew I sounded harsh. Maybe even crazy. I can never explain why I act the way I do; I just do.

"Forgive me," he started calmly. "You just put a lot out there. Enough, in my opinion, to last an entire session. I don't usually have such an easy time getting my patients to tell me what's on their minds. However, I'd like to help you answer the questions you've just asked, if you'll let me."

This is why I like adults. They aren't so quick to judge me. What teenager would have been forgiving after hearing me deliver that speech? Finn Hudson. End of list.

"Sorry," I apologized genuinely. "I know I talk a lot. I'm very straightforward and it sometimes scares people away."

"That's nothing to be sorry about. Like you said before, you want to be yourself so you can be sure that people like you for you. That's very mature of you, Rachel. You seem to be rising above what I've found to be the generic teenage-girl attitude. As for your prior comment on teenage boys, I believe that such behaviour is common amongst young women such as yourself. Girls your age tend to like attention from boys, even those whose intentions you do not intend to reciprocate."

"But how do I know if a boy, or man, is interested in me romantically or just being friendly?"

Dr. Leonard let a quick laugh escape his lips. It was a nice laugh. "Believe me, Rachel, men often have the same problem with women. Sometimes you just know. And sometimes, you can't know unless you ask."

"He's already rejected me once. We weren't exactly friends at the time. But since then, things have changed. I've matured; he's not actually seeing anyone at the moment. And we've become more like friends. Really good friends." Finally. Doctor Leonard cleared his throat as he made a few more notes.

"You corrected yourself before; at first you called him a boy, but then decided on 'man' instead. Do you want to talk about that?"

"Well, he's a little older than me."

"How much older?"

I fiddled nervously with the ring on my middle finger. "I'd rather not say." I didn't know if he would find me disgusting or not. Some people are strongly opposed to significant differences in age when it comes to romantic relationships.

There wasn't one though. A relationship, that is. It was just me, head over heels for yet another guy I couldn't have. Thankfully my fathers aren't opposed to the age difference. The three of us believe that sometimes, those couples some people might think shouldn't be together – like two men, for example – are made for each other. I tell my dads everything. They know how I feel about Will, and they're okay with it.

"I'm not here to judge you," he assured me.

"Well," I bit my bottom lip. "I'm 18 now, and he's 32. So...14 years."

"And how are you acquainted with him?" Wow, not even a flinch. This guy's good, I thought to myself.

"Well..." I started, unsure whether I was ready to tell him about Will yet. It was only our first session.

"Rachel, like I said before, I am obligated as your therapist to keep everything you tell me confidential."

"He's my teacher. Coach, actually. He's the coach of glee club. Actually, I can't believe I haven't mentioned I'm in glee club yet..."

My voice trailed off at the end. I watched as his eyes went wide with some sort of sudden realization and waited in silence as he tried to collect his thoughts. "W-Wait...You're Rachel. Rachel Berry? You're William McKinley's best singer!" The last part seemed like less of a question and more like he was saying, 'duh.' At first I was flattered that he knew me as the best singer in my school. Like, really flattered. I mean, I knew I was the best, but I didn't know I had a reputation. As I smiled, however, the look on his face was that of complete shock. My happiness quickly deflated as I realized that this new information clearly freaked him out.

"Oh my god, I'm a freak, I knew it!" I cried, burying my face in my hands.

"No, no! Rachel, it's not that. Girls develop, um... crushes on their teachers all the time. That's why I didn't realize... Oh my. I knew your name sounded familiar. It's just, well, you're talking about William Schuester, aren't you?"

I lifted my eyes to meet his, now unsure what to feel. "How did you know?"

The man silently scolded himself for acting so unprofessional. "Well, he happens to be another patient of mine."

I was silent as countless thoughts entered my mind: Why would Will need a therapist? How long has he been visiting Dr. Leonard? But most importantly... "Does he ever talk about me?" I asked excitedly and perhaps a bit too loudly.

"Rachel, you know I can't tell you."

"But we're talking about my future happiness right now! I need to know what he really thinks of me!"

"I can't tell you that, you'll just have to ask him yourself."

My loud sigh went unnoticed. It was too late; his moment of unprofessionalism was over. He went back to the charade of writing in his damn notepad. Maybe if I plead with him...

"I can't! I can't face rejection again! Do you realize that you are the one person in this world who can answer the question that has consumed my mind for over two years?" He merely continued writing in his notepad, so I kept talking. "And besides, I don't want to ruin what we have. Friendship is better than nothing."

"Keep going with that thought." Sly bastard, changing the subject, I thought.

"This is why I haven't confronted him yet. The situation is so...complicated. The first time I showed any interest in him I was acting like a complete child. I'm ashamed to even remember all the things I said and did. He was married, I was fifteen. But when we sang together. Our voices. They just matched, you know?"

"Go on."

"I apologized for putting him in such an awkward position. I didn't get over it just then," I continued, and once I started talking about him, I couldn't stop. Truth is, I never really got over it. Maybe I did briefly, while I was dating Finn. But what I felt for Will was always stronger.

"All the things that attracted me to him in the first place were, are still there. Then, a couple months later, he and his wife got divorced. He had a fling with our guidance counsellor-"

"Miss Pillsbury, correct?"

"Yes." Wonderful. I bet he still talks about her. I bet he always talks about her. "Anyways, it didn't last long. She broke up with him and started dating someone else. I'm sure Will already told you all the details. But that summer, something happened." I cringed a little at the memory. This was the reason my dads signed me up for counselling in the first place. Miss Pillsbury was a great counsellor, don't get me wrong. But I couldn't talk to her about Will. I just couldn't. I needed someone I could tell everything to.

"I was invited to my first real house party. I went with Finn, my boyfriend of the time, who then cheated on me at the same party with his ex. In his defense, he was completely wasted, and I forgave him. He didn't even remember it in the morning. But that was when I decided that he wasn't what I wanted or needed."

"So how does Will fit into all this?"

"After I walked in on Finn and Quinn together, some of the football players who always used to slushie me saw me crying. They said that if I had a drink that I'd forget all about it, and I really just wanted to feel better. So I took it. I didn't know that one of them had put something in it. I still don't know what it was because I never went to the hospital or anything, but based on the research I did after the fact, my best guess is that it was Ketamine. Anyways, all of a sudden I found myself in the basement, being undressed by this guy I'd never seen before. I used whatever common sense I had left to get out of there. I don't quite remember what happened. But I was crying really hard and didn't know where to go. I had told my dads I would be spending the night at Mercedes' house when I'd really planned on spending the night with Finn. I couldn't stay, but I couldn't go home because I didn't want to explain to my dads what happened. I honestly just wanted to forget about it."

I looked back at the stupid waterfall in the corner of the room. Yeah, it was supposed to be soothing, brighten up the room. Maybe it did. But the constant sound of water running was making me nauseous.

I stood up, unplugged it, and sat back in my seat.

Dr. Leonard wrote about it in his notebook.

"I, um, somehow ended up on Will's doorstep. The second he saw I was crying he let me in. He didn't even ask me what happened, he just held me. Stroked my hair. It was really nice." I smiled to myself at the memory. Doctor Leonard was listening intently to my story, with a serious expression on his face. I really did feel like he wasn't judging me. "It just felt so good to be held by him. He was so...warm. He let me stay there for the night. He insisted I take his bed, but before he could force me into it I pretended to fall asleep on the couch. I didn't want to be an inconvenience, though I knew I already had. I shivered happily when he placed a blanket on top of me and swiped the hair off my face with his fingertips. I still wonder if he knew I was faking it. Probably not. He's oblivious."

Doctor Leonard laughed to himself at that last comment.

"Oh my god, you know something, don't you?"

"No, no. It's just, you're right. He is oblivious, I've noticed that myself."

I laughed quickly, and then the room went uncomfortably silent.

"If this is too weird, having me as a patient, I understand."

I honestly found it a little weird myself. Dr. Leonard knew everything about the man I wanted to know everything about.

"I find it quite intriguing, actually. Hearing two different points of view on the same story."

"Aha! He does talk about me!" I couldn't conceal the ear-to-ear smile that consumed my face. Will had told Dr. Leonard about that night, and in my mind, that meant he saw it as an important moment in his life. Maybe.

"Okay, you got me. But that's all I'm saying." He was smiling too as he glanced at his watch. "Oh my, it looks as though our session was over five minutes ago."

I found myself sad to go. Not like when I was with Miss Pillsbury. I stood up and shook his hand. "It was nice to meet you, Dr. Leonard. And, just out of curiosity...when is Will's next appointment?"

"Why don't you ask him?" He said mischievously.

"Fine," I replied, still smiling. "See you next week!"

I dreamt that night, that I could read minds. And my first victim? Dr. Leonard.