A/N: This is going to be a really angsty story. It is going to involve things that some people may be uncomfortable with. At the beginning of each chapter I'll supply the warnings for what has been written. Do not read if you're triggered by any of the warnings; I'd rather have you safe, than have you read my story. If you do read my story, thank you so much for doing so. This story has been in my mind for months, and I thought it was finally time to put it down. Please review and let me know what you think! It means the world to me. Now, on with the show, enjoy.

Chapter One: ~3,400 Words - Published 7/28/2014

Warnings: Kidnapping

Sunday, April 10, 2011

1:18PM

"Mom, I'm going for a run! I'll be back in an hour!"

"Okay, Quinnie! I might be out at Bible study, but text me when you're home."

Quinn called back her grunt of acknowledgement before exiting through the front door. Closing it behind her, she stopped and looked around her street. It was warm today, and a few people were out in their gardens or washing their cars. She smiled and stepped out from under the porch into the sunlight.

She always had loved the sunlight. The warmth it always brought her. It was a promise of a new day. Even in the darkest hours, the sun would be there to guide her. The closest thing to a wish upon a star that she was going to get.

She took a deep breath through her nose, pressed her earbuds in, and with a small quirk of the lips, headed onto the sidewalk of Dudley Road; ready to run until her muscles burned, her lungs ached, and her mind was blank.

"Have a good time at dance class today, honey," Leroy said as he kissed the top of his daughters head.

Rachel beamed at him and gave a small nod, "Of course, Daddy. Today we are going over the Cheshire Cat lift, I am so excited. Adding this to my repertoire will really bring an extra shabang, if you will, to my resume and all around appeal to the Broadway-world directors."

Her father smirked affectionately and handed her the car keys, "I love you, Rae. Stay safe, and call me on your way home. Oh, and if you remember, drop by the store and pick your Dad up some of those SweeTarts he's been craving."

Rachel kissed him on the cheek and nodded, "I'll be sure to do so."

He chuckled and playfully nudged her out the door, "Go on, now."

Rachel batted his hand away and smiled towards him, "I love you, too, by the way. See you later, Daddy."

He waved after her, as she carefully backed out of the driveway and peeled down Birch Hill Road at precisely 30 miles per hour.

1:31 PM

Her breathing came out in labored pants. Her mind was blank, the loud music draining out any thoughts she could have possibly had. Her feet pounded against the crumbled pavement below, her arms swishing back in forth beside her in perfect synchronization. Her eyes were focused ahead of her, occasionally looking down at her shoes; willing her body to take each next step. Her body wanted to quit. Her mind said no.

She was coming around a bend where the trees started to become thicker on either side of the street. This was usually where she started to turn around to head back home, but not today, she wanted to go farther. She wanted to run until she couldn't. She wanted her body to scream at her. She didn't want to listen. She wanted to be blank. She wanted the sun burn her skin, she wanted the music to deafen her ears. She didn't want to feel.

She didn't want to think about school, her friends, glee club, her home life, Bet-. She shook her head; she just didn't want to think about anything.

So, she didn't.

Her music was like a drug to her. It flowed throughout her and both excited her and calmed her. Her left hand held to the bar beside her while her right slowly and gracefully extended from her body. Her right foot rose to rest on her left knee. She bent her knee slightly before raising and extending her right leg out and around. A small smile graced her lips and she tilted her middle to the right and turned out towards the middle of the room.

Her instructor, Ms. Waters, clapped as she stood regularly.

"Rachel, you're so graceful; you've really improved on your extension," the brunette haired instructor commented before going on to compliment and critique the others in her class. She busied herself by brushing away some lint from her simple black leotard.

"Okay, Rachel and Dominic, come here," Ms. Waters called over.

Rachel shot Dominic a quick smile before they headed over to their teacher.

The teacher gave them a grin, obviously excited for the lift they had planned for today.

"As you two know, we will be working on the Cheshire Cat lift. You two are the furthest advanced in this class so you will be learning the lift first and will demonstrate it to the rest of the class once you've practiced enough."

Rachel nodded excitedly, "Ms. Waters, I think that is an excellent plan. Dominic and I are the best suited to perform this move safely and effectively. I'm very excited that we were so expertly chosen to do this."

Ms. Waters, quite used to Rachel's antics over the years of teaching her, smirked and rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "Rachel, be quiet and go practice the lift. I have a video up, and I'll be over there in a minute to teach you any parts you are having trouble with, after I teach the rest of the group their moves."

Rachel held in her excited squeal as she switch leaped her way across the room.

2:02 PM

She had to stop. She couldn't go on much longer. Her throat and chest burned from how hard she was breathing. She felt like she wanted to puke as she tried to swallow even with her dry mouth.

Her feet slowed and fell against the pavement like dead weight; her sheer willpower the only thing keeping her standing.

And she still had the whole way back to go.

She panted hard and bent down with her hands on her knees. She knew that it was way past the time she should have turned around. The hour she told her mom was definitely not the case; but it's not like her mom actually cared about when she got back.

She closed her eyes tightly and tried not to focus on how hot her face felt or how much sweat was dripping down her back.

Her music blasted away at her ears, she tried to tune into what song was playing, but her thoughtless mind was too clouded from its lack of oxygen.

She couldn't hear or feel anything besides the thumping of her heart.

God, she really didn't want to puke. She hadn't puked since… since Bet-

She squeezed her eyes tighter as she clutched her stomach and emptied its contents into the ditch beside her.

Two waves of retching hit her violently almost knocking her to her knees, but she kept herself steady and thanked God that she didn't collapse. Taking quick, shallow breaths through her nose she closed her eyes tightly and dry retched a few more times until the urge finally stopped.

She swallowed thickly, wishing she had some gum with her. She sighed softly and spit into the grass, pushing her bangs back as she did so.

Her music was still playing loudly in her ears and it was finally becoming more clear; it was Give Up by Knuckle Puck. She focused on the music and mouthed the words silently.

As she walked slowly back down the road towards her home she wasn't able to hear her steps upon the concrete, let alone the van that pulled up right behind her.

"You did great, Rach," Dominic smiled at her and gave the girl a high five.

She returned the high five, having to jump up a little bit, and gave the boy a broad smile, "Thank you, Dominic, you did quite well yourself. I couldn't do it without you."

The boy gave her a one-armed hug before the teacher addressed the class, "Alright, guys, I'm going to cut class short today. My son, Mikey, has a doctors appointment. If you can't get a ride home, yet, well… too bad."

The class laughed softly at the playful wink the instructor threw their way, and began packing up their belongings. Rachel hummed contentedly as she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked to the car.

It was a good day.

"Hey, Rachel, can I talk to you for a second?"

Rachel smiled and turned towards to voice, "Of course, Dominic. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Dominic rolled his eyes and playfully nudged her shoulder, "Rach, drop the vocabulary for a sec would ya?"

Rachel huffed and crossed her arms, "I will do no such thing, Dominic. I believe that having and using a vast vocabulary in an ever increasing world where acronyms and droll words are used frequently, is a thing to be admired."

The boy smirked and looked down at her with a twinkle in his eye. She gasped and hated herself when a large smile broke across her face, "You're teasing me."

"Wow, I think that's the shortest sentence you've ever said," he winked and laughed as she hit him across the arm, "Anyway, Rach. I, uhm, you were really great today. I was - well, I'll just cut right to the chase - I was wondering if you would like to go grab dinner with me sometime?"

Rachel's eyes widened and a slow smile crept it's way across her face, "Wait, you want to go on a date with me?"

Dominic bit his lip and nodded, "Yes, that's what I'm inquiring."

Rachel laughed, "Inquiring? Are you making fun of me now?"

A grin broke out across the boys face and shook his head, "No, I'm just nervous."

Rachel smiled and nodded her head, "I would love to go out on a date with you, Nicky."

"Alright, that's great. How about tomorrow night, Elly?"

Rachel fake glowered at him, but couldn't hide her smirk, "That sounds perfect, Dom."

"Sweet, I'll pick you up and I'll have an awesome date planned out and everything… Rac?"

Rachel laughed at his attempted nickname and gave him a quick hug, "Sounds good, see you tomorrow. Wouldn't want to miss a date with the D."

Dominic blushed on his tan features and his eyes grew wide. He called out to her right as she reached the door, "Oh my god, did Rachel Berry just make a sex joke?!"

He smiled as her laughter floated out the door.

2:06 PM

She had put up a fight, as much as her worn out body had let her. She kicked and screamed and bit and punched. She got the man in the groin, but that didn't stop him; even through his pained yelp.

The adrenaline had immediately ran through her when a rough hand was placed over her mouth and an arm was wrapped around her abdomen. She yelled against the sweaty palm, bit down, tasting blood and salt. She wanted to puke again.

So, she did.

"What the fuck!" The voice had bellowed as her vomit coated his hand. Her stomach rolled and one, two - no three waves of vomit spilled from her mouth onto the man's hand and shoes.

"You fucking disgusting bitch! You're going to fucking regret that!"

Another voice called out, from where, she hadn't been sure; but it was a woman's voice. A scratchy one, as if the woman had smoked her entire life.

"Maybe this one ain't worth it, James!"

The man, or James, Quinn assumed, growled into her ear and brought his knee up hard into her back - she cried out in agony. Her body couldn't handle it anymore. Her mind snapped off, her vision blurred, the last thing she heard was, "Worth it or not, she's going to fucking pay," before she passed out to oblivion.

~0~

And now she had woken up. It was dark. Something was covering her eyes. Her heart was hammering at a million miles a minute. Her mouth felt disgusting and it was a struggle to barely even move her tongue. She strained to hear anything. She really didn't want to alert her kidnappers that she was up. She had watched plenty of Investigation Discovery shows. She knew what was happening, and fuck, she was terrified. She blocked off the thoughts of what could - would - happen to her. She focused on evening her breaths and listening for any clues of where she might be. She heard none.

All she heard was the wind blowing past the windows and she felt the movement of the vehicle she was in. She cringed internally at the thought of not knowing how long she had been out for and not knowing where she was. There was no way she could be rescued if she didn't have a clue where she was; it's not like she could call the cops and tell them her location. Because she didn't know her location. Or what time it was. Or what day it was. She didn't know if people knew she was missing. She didn't know if her mom even cared. Tears welled up in her eyes and she took as quiet of a breath as she could, willing herself to not let any tears fall. She was not going to be weak. She had made it through her life so far with an abusive father, a pregnancy, giving up her daughter, bullying, and more. She was strong. At least, she thought she was. This might be the thing to break her.

She was not going to forget who she was, if she could help it. She was going to find a way out. She needed to. Because if she was kept here for too long, she knew that in her fragile state she might start believing that this was where she was meant to be. She would not become a victim of Stockholm Syndrome to the best of her abilities. She was going to remember. No matter how long she was here for, she was going to do her best, to remember.

6:47 PM

"Dad, is it okay if I drive over to the baseball game?"

Hiram looked up skeptically over his reading glasses at his daughter, "The baseball game? Why in the world would you want to go to the baseball game?"

Rachel shrugged and sat next to him on the couch, "To be perfectly frank, I am a bit bored. I thought changing up my night would cure me of it."

He placed his book down before wrapping an arm around Rachel's shoulders and bringing him into her, "Well, I suppose that would be alright. I wouldn't want you going alone though. Know anybody who would like to join you? Also, who has a baseball game on a Sunday school night?"

Rachel rested her head on her father's shoulder and leaned into him, "I'm not sure, but Sam is on the team, so he'd be there. It would be interesting to see a fellow Glee mate participate in another activity that they enjoy. I was also thinking about picking up Mercedes and Kurt."

At that, Hiram laughed out loudly, "Mercedes and Kurt? To a baseball game?"

Rachel huffed, "It is perfectly plausible that they would want to join me."

Hiram laughed, "Yeah, under what guise would you trick them into joining you?"

"Mercedes has a thing for Sam, and Kurt would obviously want to criticize the uniform all while checking out the boys in said uniform," a smirk found its way onto the girls face, "So, see, it's perfectly plausible they'd like to go, too."

Hiram laughed and shook his head, "Any boys there you'd like to see?"

Rachel shook her head and kissed her Dad's cheek, "Nope. Just bored."

He chuckled and kissed his daughters temple, "Alright, go call them."

~0~

She hadn't lied to her father about being bored. No, not at all, she was bored, and she thought that this would be something to entertain her. She had actually gotten a bit excited when Mercedes and Kurt agreed to come.

But, it was more than just boredom that had her itching to get out of the house. Something wasn't right. She didn't know what it was, but in her gut she knew something was wrong. She felt antsy and nauseous. She felt like pacing, running, even punching something; and mind you, Ms. Rachel Barbara Berry did not punch things. So, she settled for driving to Mercedes' house first and then to Kurt's, instead of punching something. She clutched the wheel tightly and bounced her leg whenever she had to stop at a light. She put some music on, only to immediately turn it off; it had been annoying to her ears - music annoying to Rachel, can you believe it?

She took a deep breath as she pulled up to the Jones' house. She kept telling herself that nothing was wrong. Everyone was okay. There was nothing to panic about. She didn't believe it for a second. She does have a sixth sense, ya know.

Instead of shooting a text off to Mercedes to come outside, she figured that she might need to get some of this energy out of her - no matter how small. She exited the car and practically ran to the front door. She bounced on her toes as she knocked and waited for her friend to open the door.

"Girl, what are you bouncing like a ball for?"

Rachel gulped subtly and used all of her willpower to stay flat on her feet, "Was just something to keep me preoccupied while I waited for you to come outside."

Mercedes eyed her curiously and closed the door behind her, "Alright, girl, whatever you say."

Rachel nodded and walked back as normally as she could back to the car.

~0~

"I'm going to go for a walk, I'm feeling rather restless," Rachel said to her two enthralled friends. After they had talked animatedly about the baseball uniforms and how "gorgous and sexy" Sam was looking, Mercedes and Kurt actually got really into the game. They were yelling about getting the ball and taunting the other team with "Eyyy batter, batter!" It was getting a bit much for Rachel.

She sighed when her friends just said, "Yeah, yeah, okay Rache-; oh what the hell was that number 22!"

She stood and walked over to the concession stand. It was busy and she didn't really think she could handle having to stand still in a line for ten minutes. Her nerves were all over the place; she knew something was wrong. She just couldn't place what. It was getting dark and she wrapped her arms around herself as she walked around the park. It was a pretty big place. Three baseball fields were here, each one of them being used tonight. A couple of bathroom areas were close by the concession stand, and a playground wasn't too far off in the distance. She sighed and scuffed her old sneakers against the pavement as she walked towards it.

Her fingers slid along the cold metal of the swing as she sat herself down on it. It was a particularly warm night for April, she thought, as she began kicking her legs back and forth. She gripped the chains in her hands until her knuckles went white, and kicked herself higher and higher. Maybe she could just fly away from this feeling of dread.

The playground was empty, dark, and quiet, but she could hear the cheers and talking from the fields in the distance; it was easy to drown out and focus on the sound of her body sailing through the wind. She closed her eyes and imagined herself as a flying trapeze artist; flying high through the air, back and forth, willing her audience to gasp and cheer when she would seemingly defy all laws of physics.

The air hitting against her cheeks and blowing her hair back helped calm her. She felt like she was able to breath better, even though the feeling of trepidation was still strong in her gut.

The crack of a boot on wood chips caused her to slam her feet (as much as she could with her short stature) on the ground below her, "Who's there? I have a rape whistle! We are not that far off from a mass group of people! I assure you that they would come help me!"

A low, dark laugh came out from behind her, "I don't think you'll want to do that with me."