Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me, but all grammatical errors are indeed mine.

Author's Note: constructive criticism is highly encouraged.

Chapter One: To be surprised so very often

What if what you have strived for during all your life is no longer what you desire? What if that goal that seemed so unreachable so long ago has already been attained, and as you hold it within your grasp you realize that it was so overrated? It's not so shiny, it's not so valuable, it's not so precious.

What if you have accomplished everything you set yourself out to do, your college education in that prestigious university, your career fulfilled to its maximum potential, that special someone with who to share it all with?

What if while you sit beside your boyfriend on an especially cold night watching the latest trashy TV show you perceive the possibility that it was all for naught? Because he's sitting there besides you, seeing what you are seeing, holding you like you are holding him, but there's a tension in his muscles that's similar to the one in your soul. What if you felt something amiss, just like Rachel was feeling at that precise moment while sitting on the expensive couch of her penthouse with Broody's arm around her small shoulders?

Would you be prepared? Would you know what to do next?

Rachel should have been prepared. Her self-acclaimed psychic senses had already warned her. Yet when Broody took his arm off her figure and landed his apprehensive eyes upon her she was still left without words. She gulped and waited.

"Rachel." – She gulped again as he stared into her eyes. – "I can't be with you anymore."

He had said it so simply, without stuttering. His gaze never wavered and his pose was resigned but firm. She knew he was waiting for what was so very common of her, a tantrum; he would think them all tantrums as if he had not just destroyed a seven year relationship.

She reined it in for a second though – to her own amazement – and stammering through dry lips she asked the unnecessary.

"W-why?" She was confused, she was unsure. She was filling herself with anger, but mostly with hurt; she had a hint as to why.

"I'm sorry Rachel, but you know that as artist we feed on passion, and I've found myself passionate about Elisa." He shrugged his shoulders, not uncaringly, but with the certainty that he could do nothing more about this matter, and Rachel was sure he had even rehearsed that mediocre line.

"Elisa?" – Rachel muttered. Who was this woman? And then she remembered. Elisa, his blond cast mate in this new off-Broadway production, the girl with the curly yellow trends and freckles on her nose. – "Elisa!?" Her scream pushed her off the couch like a spring, the anger in her eyes willing him to melt onto the floor.

"Rachel, please calm down." He too stood, stretching his arm to her shoulder in an effort to appease her.

It was futile of course, as Rachel recoiled from his intent. The anger was such, the pain so strikingly so, that she grabbed the first thing she could find – the TV's remote control from the coffee table – and threw it at him, with enough force for it to break as her aim missed and it landed on the floor.

"Rachel!" He covered behind the sofa hoping to put some distance between them, but she was not deterred. A vase, another remote control and some ornaments flew towards him as she dashed to her room.

He could hear her from the living room, throwing their room upside down. It didn't take her long to come back out with two suitcases in her arms.

"Rachel, where are you going?" He asked trotting after her. He saw her open the door before throwing the suitcases on the hallway.

"Me? Nowhere, but you are getting the hell out!" She walked deeper into her home.

"Rachel…" He pleaded while she walked by him, and it's not like he expected her to allow him to live with her after he dropped such a bomb on her, but he had hoped she at least gave him until the morning. Clearly, she had forgotten all of her forgiving traits, or perhaps she had no more left for him. He decided to try one more time to reason with her, but before he could go in her search he felt the push of something against his back.

"I said get the hell out, now! Unless you want me to beat you with this?" She pushed him again with the wood end of her broom.

"Rachel for the love of God – " he doesn't get to finish as ducking takes priority.

Rachel swings at him once, twice, until he is way out on the hallway and she can slam the door on his face. She knows he probably won't try to get back in, which is wise of him considering her history of emotional outbursts. Yet, even though she can hear him through the door picking up his stuff and walking away, she knows she's not relieved, she's not glad.

Because, 'there goes another one', she thinks; one more to add to her fail attempts at connecting with someone, and for what? For a girl her same age with half her talent. Well then, just like old times.

She allows her weight to drop her to the floor where she sobs, because if nothing else, she's an expert at this.

0-0

It is amazing how opportune some people can be.

This is the sarcastic thought that ran through her head as she practically dragged her body out of bed. She had no desire or reason to do so, especially not so early in the morning, but then her phone started ringing; because she kept forgetting to just yank the whole thing off the wall considering she has a cellphone.

Reluctantly she made her way to the living room and finally picked up the phone. She was surprised by the voice that greeted her.

"Sweetheart! Good morning!"

"Ah… good morning dad." – She replied, somewhat unsurely.

She could barely remember the last time she spoke to either of her parents. Between her own busy schedule and her parents absence of their home phone calls were few and far in between. However, even more dubious than this random occurrence is the tone with which her father spoke. Her daddy was usually the perkiest of them and her dad was never far behind, yet the undertone of his voice was grave, like he was forcing himself to be cheerful. – "What's wrong?"

He was silent, and Rachel knew that he was searching for a good way to phrase his announcement, which clearly meant that they were not good news.

At last, he said in a quick whisper. "Shelby's dead."

Her eyes widened and she thought of gasping, but she found herself with no air. It seemed to her like there was no time or space either; she was skeptic about the place she occupied too. Was this real life, or had she never gotten out of bed or even awakened? Why had this happened? When? How? She had a million questions that all started with those same words.

Her father continued to fill in the silence. "Yes, we are having her funeral here in Lima on this next weekend. I think it would be good for you to come. See her one last time."

She agrees, firstly with a shake of her head and then, realizing he can't see her, with her voice. "Of course. I'll be there."

And she hanged up, uncaring about etiquette, manners or feelings. She just knew that she couldn't keep holding onto that piece of plastic. Her feet carried her to the couch where she sat staring blankly at the black TV screen.

'Shelby's dead'…kept repeating in her head and she still could not believe it. Shelby, that woman that was supposed to be her mother. The one that came into her life for a trial run and then left without as much as a thank you. The woman that abandoned her twice because she was not what she wanted, not what she had in mind.

Well, yes, that Shelby was now dead.

0-0

Rachel Berry wondered what she was doing there. There was a corpse before her, all primped up to look more like the human it used to be and less like the decaying mass that it was now. And she tried, she really tried to see the woman that she knew as Shelby Corcoran – the surrogate mother – in it, but the truth was that she never truly met that woman. She met a woman named Shelby who failed at her attempt to be her mother, and then ran off; talking to her for a few hours if put together never allowed her the opportunity of "knowing her". Therefore, she didn't know that ex-person that lay before her.

Still, she did what was required of her in those circumstances. She stood at the end of the room and murmured a little, as if she was giving her the last goodbye. Then, with a face full of contained grief, she sat on the front row of chairs and inconspicuously scanned her surroundings. She knew not most of the faces she saw, but she could recognize a few. The new ones she did not glance at more than once; most of them were close to the coffin, so Rachel suspected they were Shelby's relatives. Some of the old ones she greeted from afar, with the wave of a hand or a nod of the head, people like Sue Silvester and Becky, Artie, Tina and Mercedes; they did not approach her and she did not approach them, time and distance had severed the thin bond of friendship they had created during that long forgotten senior year. She looked back, towards the entrance and exit of the room, where she found a small group of four gathered close to a refreshments table that in her opinion should not be in the same room as a dead body, and found her fathers speaking to Burt Hummel, Mr. Schuester and Mrs. Pillsbury. She ignored her own inquiry of if they had been there when she first arrived, and stood to approach them.

They noticed her immediately, with different tones calling out her name. It was daddy Hiram who first engulfed her in a hug. As she was squeezed by her father LeRoy she heard Mr. Schuester speak.

"Rachel, I see Broadway has been treating you well." He smiled that charming smile with the dimples that made Mrs. Pillsbury weak in the knees and Rachel swallowed every single negative retort she could have spewed. In its place she nodded with a barely there smile.

"Of course it has. Broadway always treats well all of its stars." Oh so proud LeRoy replied for her. She chuckled lightheartedly not wanting to make any comments on that subject, and simply went straight to the point with her reply.

"Dad, daddy, what happened?" Her tone was severe as she stared deeply into the now gloomy eyes of her parents. LeRoy shook his head sorrowfully while Hiram squeezed her shoulder.

In their inability to speak, Mr. Hummel answered for them. "It was a car accident".

Rachel was overwhelmed by the simplicity of the matter. How fast, how uneventfully, one's life can be ended. It matters not what you have accomplished or what you wish to achieve in your future, when destiny comes calling, you will answer without even noticing.

"It was horrible car crash and a miraculous one as well." Mr. Schue commented. Rachel turned to him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" She asked. Shelby was dead, no miracle had occurred to her belief.

"Shelby was not alone in her car. She had Beth with her." As Mrs. Pillsbury explained panic settled within Rachel's chest.

She gulped. "And?"

"She's fine. Well, not completely fine. She was obviously injured, but she survived. She's at the hospital right now, and stable." Mr. Schue said.

Rachel nodded in a sort of a daze. She turned to look at her parents and says nothing as she gives one more glance to that woman who she never knew. Then without another word and ignoring the calls to her name, she exits the room.

0-0

Rachel would have been scratching at her skin in that nervous habit she always got when she entered a hospital, if only she hadn't been so concentrated on her task. She took determined strides towards the receptionist desk and spoke in an even and clear tone.

"I'm looking for Beth Corcoran."

The middle aged blond woman with black rimmed glasses took a few seconds to scrutinize her, which made Rachel's eyebrows twitch in irritation. "Are you a relative?"

Rachel frowned. Obviously not, although, wait, yes she kind of was. "I'm her stepsister."

The nurse looked dubious. Rachel was about to bring her diva personality out to play, when a roughish voice was heard.

"Rachel?" Her head turned sharply to the left where Puck stood.

"Noah." She said carefully, as if to not unsettle those reddish eyes. He nodded once, kind of reluctantly accepting that yes, it was him, and opened his arms to engulf her when she was within arm's reach.

It lasted more than the embraces with her parents, as it always did, because the years had passed and Rachel was a different person, like most of her old classmates, but not Noah. Noah Puckerman was still Puck no matter the time, or distance or place, which made him that hard exterior soft interior Jew hot boy that she always knew. And so she hugged him tightly for as long as she could, until he stood back and with an arm around her small shoulders, guided her through the hospital hallways.

"What are you doing here Rachel?" He said morosely, his eyes looking far towards the end of the hall way. Looking at nothing, Rachel knew.

"You know what." She replied her own eyes glued to his profile. He looked so heartbroken, and somehow she knew this was not just about Beth's injuries. Something told her, probably that glimpse she had at something inappropriate during high school, that Puck was grieving for more than his daughter's adoptive mother. She made no comment on it though, as he nodded in acceptance of her answer.

They reached Beth's room without her notice, and entered without Rachel being prepared for it. She was certainly not prepared to see such a small, unmoving body upon such a big bed. She was paler than a child should ever be, paler than her biological mother, paler than the sheets which covered most of her frail body, living her thin arms and chest displaying the cables glued to them. The brunette was comforted in watching that miniscule chest rise fall fluently, even if her breaths were somewhat shallow.

Rachel walked closer to the bed. She moved the bangs out of the girls face to inspect her better. She had a black cheek and a few more red scars along the right side of her jaw as well as in her arms, but none too profound. She would heal well Rachel noted, and she turned to the end of the bed where Puck was to tell him as much, but the shimmer in his brown eyes made her change her mind.

"She will be fine Puck." She said instead, softly but surely.

He shook his head, even more determinedly. "No Rachel, she will not."

"Why are you saying that? Can't you see she's fine? She's alive and recovering!" Rachel countered, trying to keep her voice down.

Puck did not care about such precautions; his voice rose and broke as his vulnerabilities showed. "No she won't be Rachel! Don't you remember who I am? Shelby's dead, Quinn's who knows where and I'm broke! I have no money to take care of her. I can barely pay my rent each month. What do you think will happen once Child Services find out about all of this?" He glared at her, barely containing his tears. Rachel could hardly believe all the hate they had in them, she could believe even less that it was all directed towards him-self. Yet she could understand it. With no one to take care of her and nowhere to go Beth would become an orphan once again. And Rachel did not know from firsthand how good or bad orphanages truly were, but she had heard stories. It was not a place for such a cute and innocent girl.

And just like that her heart inflated with a painfully exciting pressure, her throat seized and her eyes widened like it always happened when the heavens gave her an epiphany.

She rested her eyes on the blond hair and smooth face of Beth Corcoran while the whole feeling settled and her ideas organized.

"You know I've been accepted for the part of Elphaba in the revival of Wicked." She commented offhandedly, brushing her fingers over the cold white sheets. In Pucks frown she could see his confusion and even some offense to her unsuitable change of subject.

"Ah, well…congratulations." He said finally. She nodded towards the window, almost nostalgically, before resting her gaze on him once more.

"Yes, it is a great opportunity for my career and it will certainly expand my economic status, unnecessarily so since I already have quite a big apartment, all to myself." – She stared, but his lack of response made her ask. – "Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

He shook his head.

"I will adopt Beth." She said with resolution.

"What?" He had definitely gotten it, transitioning from confusion and insult to alarm and concern.

"Yes. Look Puck, I'm a twenty four year old woman with an apartment too big for myself and a bank account I can't dent even on my craziest shopping sprees. Economically speaking I am certain Beth will be well taken care off, but more than that – " She pressed her fingers against the girls cold forehead – "More than that I am ready for this. I want to take care of Beth."

"But Rachel, you are only twenty-four – " Puck tried to reason.

"Precisely". She replied.

"And you're starting your career."

"Continuing it, you mean."

"Exactly! You won't have time – "

"Of course I will Puck. Rehearsals don't last all day, and I can easily arrange for a babysitter within the theaters' premises." With each second that passed and each uttered word she was even more resolved upon her decision. She would adopt Beth and in return, unbeknown to herself, Beth would also take care of her.

"Rachel she's not even your own child." His voice had taken a resigned tone, letting Rachel know it would not be much longer before she had won.

"I'm not the biological daughter of one of my fathers either Puck. Blood matters not when there's love. I would know, and Beth will know so as well. It's not like I haven't loved her since before I laid eyes on her." She finished.

There was silence as the adults in the room considered everything that was proposed. After a while, seeing that Puck was still reluctant to agree, Rachel threw her last card.

"Have you ever been to an orphanage Puck?"

"No." He shook his head.

"I've heard stories, of malnutrition and abuse, poor education and bullying. Look at her Puck. Do you want to put her through that? Especially when you know there's a better option? When you know I would give my life for her?"

He took a trembling breath, held in his tears and shook his head. "No, of course not….alright, let's do the papers."

Smiling slightly, she rounded the bed to embrace him.

0-0

"Are you crazy?"

It was not the first time she heard that sentence, therefore it would not be the first time she ignored it with challenging determination.

"No." Although she thought she was slightly crazy, but not enough to regret her decision.

"You must be. There's no other reason for why you would want to do such a thing."

"There are a lot of reasons, dads." She spoke calmly, tucking her skirt below her thighs before sitting on the couch.

"But Rachel - " Her daddy tried in a softer voice.

"There are no buts." She stated getting irritated by their lack of support. Yet she sighed, filling herself with a little more patience because she really couldn't blame them. What twenty four year old woman, with such young fame, suddenly takes on the task of becoming the parent of a six year old? A lonely Rachel Berry what the answer, but they wouldn't understand that. To them she was the successful and independent Rachel Berry. She had everything that she needed, and what else could she want?

"Look I understand that you can't comprehend my decision, but I am resolved. Tomorrow morning I will go with Noah to fill the necessary arrangements, and as soon as Beth is out of the hospital I'm taking her with me." She stood from the sofa and left towards her room, canceling any further argument.

On the next morning, she did exactly as she had said. She got up early enough to be the first one to be attended at the Child Services office. Filling the papers took more time than receiving the approval after it was known who she was and what she did for a living. Rachel was sure that her actual relation to Beth Corcoran had much less push in the whole ordeal than her popularity. As wrong as it all was when it came to ethical practices, she was glad everything ran smoothly.

Two weeks and a half later, Beth was finally released from the hospital, which meant it was time for goodbyes.

The little blond girl held tightly to the straps of her Dora the Explorer backpack and stared a hole through the airports tiled floor.

"But why do I have to go with her?" She mumbled again. It was a hard concept for her to grasp. She knew her mommy was no longer with them. She was in a better place now, or so everyone kept telling her, but her daddy was still here. She had never lived with him, but he went to visit her often, and if he really was her daddy then why couldn't she go with him?

"Because I can't take care of you baby, but Rachel can. You like Rachel don't you?" Puck was already kneeling on the floor, but he bent his head a bit more to try and catch her tearing eyes. He did, for a second, before the little girl lowered them again. She nodded slightly, because yes she did like Rachel. It was hard not to like the person who brought you candy every time they visited you at the hospital, but she didn't know her very well, what if she wasn't so nice outside of the hospital?

"So you be a good girl for her, alright?" She nodded again, with the cutest frown he had ever seen. He hugged her tightly before standing up. – "Rachel…" – He walked up to her engulfing her in another embrace. – "please." He said and she had not to ask to know what he was begging.

"I promise." She replied staring deeply into his yes, before moving to hug her parents next.

A promise she was beginning to wonder if she could keep. Once in the airplane, Beth had refused to talk to her, or even the air attendant, when asked if she wanted a soda. She kept her small frown and sad eyes looking out the window. Rachel could do nothing but sigh in resignation. Beth would not talk for now and she understood this was a lot to take in and it would take her a while to get accustomed, but Rachel was a talker, how could she make it better if they could not communicate? Also, she had never met a silent child, such an unnatural thing in her mind, so she knew not how to handle it. She was starting to wonder if she had made the right choice or if perhaps she had been a bit too impulsive.

The conclusion came to her with the bump of a small head against her. Beth had fallen asleep and had taken her left arm as a pillow. Something more adorable Rachel was certain she could never find. She brushed some of her blond bangs away from her face and Beth snuggled closer to her, grasping her arm with both of her small hands.

The softest smile graced Rachel's features. Yes, it was impulsive, and it was utterly selfish, but it was right. Here was a little girl who needed someone who could take good care of her, and Rachel had not just the means but the motivation to do so. She swore to give her everything neither Shelby nor Quinn ever could.