A/N: Quite honestly, I have no idea where this came from. I guess I am just sad that Rachel never seems to stick up for herself. She really doesn't deserve what the others do to her. Hope you enjoy, and remember: reviews = love!

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

...The Incessant Teasing.

"One, two, step ball change!" Mr. Schuester chanted as he coached the Glee Club through their newest choreography. Everyone was performing flawlessly-well Finn tripped over his feet a couple times but that was nothing new. Rachel's heart ached as he stumbled slightly and then laughed good naturedly with Santana. She was supposed to be the one running her fingers through his hair, not the Cheerio. Did he have to be that cruel though? Did he have to flirt with the Latina right in front of her?

Mr. Schuester spotted Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell outside the choir room, and mumbling an excuse he exited the room to chase after her. Rachel huffed and rolled her eyes. She couldn't understand how people called her desperate and pathetic after watching him.

The group dispersed to their chairs in the room, and Rachel took a seat in the back corner, furthest away from the club. She had never been close with any of them, but now that she and Finn had broken up, no one even bothered pretending they liked her. She sighed and plopped in her chair, pulling out the laptop she had taken to carrying with her. She just had to know how the traffic on her Myspace page was, and it didn't hurt to stay up to date on the latest news from Broadway. Rachel signed onto Myspace eagerly, hoping desperately that some agent had discovered her page and sent her a message, simply begging her to sign with him.

Rachel beamed as comments flooded the screen, all for her latest video. In a moment of hopelessness, she had covered Adele's "I'll Be Waiting." If anyone who knew her had watched it, they would know it was a message to Finn, just in case he ever stumbled across it. She had almost been embarrassed to put it up, but it really was an amazing performance if she did say so herself. And when had Rachel Berry ever let heartbreak get in the way of a spectacular performance? She didn't-in fact, some of her best work came from experiencing the emotional distress she had been put through. So she was feeling pretty good about her reviews, until she saw that every single one was from the Cheerios.

Heart in her throat, Rachel read through the comments on the video she had worked so hard on. Everything was telling her she was talent-less, worthless, ugly, a freak, and one even suggested a place she could get a nose job, stating that it would be doing everyone a favour. Tears threatened to overtake her, and Rachel willed herself not to cry. Stars did not break down in the public eye. They stayed strong and let everyone know that they could take anything the world threw at them. Rachel glanced through the names of the people who posted them and realised that most of them were from Santana, and suddenly she wasn't tearing up from hurt anymore, but from anger. How dare she continue to torment Rachel after ruining the best relationship she ever had? How dare she get the entire cheerleading squad to back her in her endeavors? Personal feelings aside, they were supposed to be a team, and team members would not supposed to bully each other.

A crash resounded from Rachel's corner of the room. The entire Glee Club whipped around to see the cause of the commotion. Rachel had stood, and her laptop had fallen when she did so and she had kicked her chair over as she took to her feet. She betrayed no emotion, face set in a steely gaze and jaw clenched as she stared down the girl sitting in the front row.

Santana raised an eyebrow in a detached interest as Rachel snatched the laptop off the ground and marched to stand in front of her. Shoving the laptop under Santana's nose, Rachel ground out between clenched teeth, "What is this?"

The Cheerio looked bored as she glanced at the screen in front of her. "You doing a shit rendition of Adele," she quipped, and she smirked as the other girls tittered and a couple of the guys stifled chuckles. Rachel flushed. No matter what anyone had ever said about her, no one had ever told her straight to her face that she was talent-less. And it hurt more than she ever let on. For so long everyone had done things to beat her self esteem down until she truly believed that the only good thing about her was her voice. And now they were trying to take that away from her. As Rachel tried to form something coherent to say, the laughs crescendo-ed around her until they consumed her, and she looked desperately to those who weren't joining in on the cruel taunts. She looked to Artie, who averted his eyes and wheeled his chair so he wasn't facing her. She looked to Mike, who looked back with sad eyes but made no move to stop his girlfriend's laughter. And finally she looked to Finn, pleading for him to say something. For once, say something against the people who tormented her. But while he didn't join in, he gazed back steadily at her, emotionless and uncaring. She didn't see the sadness in his eyes.

Rachel turned away from Finn bitterly and looked back to his new girlfriend. Her smirk had grown wider than ever. And suddenly, Rachel had enough. She had enough of the teasing, enough of the slushies, and enough of letting it get to her and bottling it up inside. She was done.

"Fine," she said bitingly, cutting off everyone's laughter. "Fine," she repeated, stalking back to her chair and gathering her bag. "I'm done with you. I'm done with Glee club," she announced, and this time it was her turn to smirk in triumph as several gasps resounded throughout the room. "You think I'm so talent-less?" she asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Then have fun losing at Regionals. Because without me, you're going nowhere."

"She's not serious," Quinn said laughing at everyone's stunned reaction. "Yentl knows she's nothing without us. Hell, she's barely anything with us. She's not going anywhere." Rachel felt her blood boil in fury as the atmosphere changed from tense to relaxed. They all thought Quinn was right. She didn't know who she was angrier at, Quinn for assuming things, the rest of the club for believing her, or herself for making them think Quinn was right. Because she had never done anything to stand up for herself, never done anything to make them think that she would walk away from Glee, not because she wanted more solos, but because she was sick of the pain they routinely caused her. Rachel whirled back around and planted her hands on her hips, making eye contact with every single one of them sitting before her.

"I'm not coming back, and don't you dare think otherwise," she said in a low voice, and once again the shocked faces were back. "What you may or may not realise is that every little comment you make hurts me. Every time you joke around, calling me Yentl, or Man Hands, or Treasure Trail-it all hurts. Just because I don't show it doesn't mean that the pain still isn't there. And it hurts even worse because we're supposed to be a family. We're supposed to be special, because being a part of something special makes you special. But you know what? The only special any of you have made me feel is the kind that belongs in a mental hospital!"

Rachel was breathing heavily. She had finally done it. She had finally stood up to them, and it felt exhilarating. Why had she never tried this before?

"Rach," Mercedes started hesitantly. "Rach, no one means any of that. We're just joking." She pauses, and then plows on, "We need you Rachel."

Santana mutters "I'm not," under her breath, but the only reason Rachel even knew that is because she could read lips. She didn't even think Finn could hear her.

"You need me?" she barked out a short laugh. "Where is that attitude when I'm the one getting the solos? Either you need me or you don't, and I think you've made your views on that perfectly clear."

The choir room was dead silent. No one moved a muscle, and no one tried to contradict her. "That's what I thought," Rachel said, hiking her bag over her shoulder and turning for the door.

"Rachel." A soft voice spoke behind her, and the brunette glanced over her shoulder to see Artie wheeling towards her. "Please stay Rachel."

She shook her head, lifted her chin, and marched out without looking back.

No one talked.

No one moved.

Mr. Schuester walked back into the room, grinning from ear to ear after his chat with Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell.

"Hey guys!" he grinned. "Sorry about that."

He took in the sight of the kids before him, and read their expressions.

He counted the kids, twice, and the smile slid off his face.

"Where's Rachel?"