A/N: Hey guys! I hope you're enjoying the story. Thanks for taking some time to read it over. If you would let me know how I'm doing so far that would be awesome. Y'all are the best!


Being the weekend, Rachel was dealt a full hand of chemo treatments. She felt like she lived at the hospital for the amount of hours she had stayed there. Her side effects felt ten times worse from the last one before. A bus could have hit her and she would have still felt more horrible than that. They had asked her to stay over night since she couldn't stop vomiting or get up with someone else helping her. She was pale and weak. Every time she went to go do something she would get woozy.

The doctors let her go home on Sunday night, telling her to keep hydrated and get as much sleep as possible. She didn't bother arguing with her dads when they helped her straight up to bed, because it was exactly what she wanted. And when they had her drink a full glass of water before going to sleep, she didn't even say anything because she just wanted the night end and not have to wake up. She was hoping for a great day tomorrow or something better than her last few days. She had school tomorrow and had to put on a happy face.

Luckily her alarm clock was still set. It went off two hours early before she had to go to school, but Rachel didn't get up for one. She felt tired and a little bit woozy, and then suddenly she felt terribly sick. She rushed herself to the bathroom as fast as her body could take her before throwing up. The sound of it and the taste in her mouth made her experience all that much worse.

Wiping her mouth she sat by the toilet until her nausea went away. She got ready for school, packing her dancewear for her free period so she could spend her hour of nothing doing something she enjoyed before she was sick. Rehearsing always helped her calm down and put her in a different world – something she really needed right then.

Her dads had lectured her about not working too hard and to call if she needed anything while in school. She knew she still looked pale and didn't feel like herself and she didn't fight with them on that either. She needed something to brighten up her day.

Walking into glee in the early morning – for once not being the first one there – they waited as Mr. Shuester talked, introducing them to Mr. Ryan, who was here to give his opinions on the arts and evaluate McKinley High.

"Take out a piece of paper." Mr. Ryan spoke. "And on that paper, I want you to write down your biggest dream. A dream that means so much, you are afraid to admit it – even to yourself." Rachel sat there for a second thinking, while others wrote. Instead of writing her dream to be becoming a huge star, she wrote 'to live' in tiny letters. It was something even she could barely admit. She had wanted to live whether the statistics were in her favor or not. She had wanted to fight this cancer. And when she was done, covering up the words with her hands, she watched as Mr. Ryan took Artie's paper from his lap and crumpled it up, throwing it in the trash.

"Your dream is never going to happen."

The words choked her, making her want to cry, run away and to throw up. A part of her knew that Mr. Ryan was being harsh, obviously having something against the arts, but that part of her, which she suppressed of its negativity, came to life. It jabbed her in the heart showing her just what she was going to miss when she died.

The dance studio was empty, thankfully giving her the time to think. She felt in dire need to be in this place and let dance consume her. Mr. Ryan's words still lingered in her head, echoing in her ears. She had already thrown up once today after Glee. It wasn't just his words that made her sick, but the chemotherapy and the real truth she wasn't sure if she could ever face. After changing into her dancewear, she pulled her hair up in a bun and went to forget. She put down her stuff on a bench in the room and began to stretch, slowly then breaking out into her practice of her dream ballet as Laurey with her imaginary Curley in Oklahoma. She didn't know where she got the energy from or the strength not to cry but she did it – for a while anyways.

Every movement she made, she knew in her head it could be her last. All of this dream talk was making her become painfully aware that her dreams were slipping away. She had actually stopped a few times when the overwhelming qualms captured her. Of course, she continued on though. She stared herself down in the mirror, willing herself not to break. Not here, not now, not ever in the near feature.

Catching a glimpse of something in the room, she twirled her last circle and stopped. Her gaze hit a body, finding the one and only Jesse St. James in front of her, leaning against the ballet bars watching her.

"Hi," he said in the most soft and gentle tone. Her heart melted and her hard shell of determination cracked. He was here…really here after the long week.

"How was your spring break?" she questioned wiping an almost falling tear from her eye while pretending to curl a piece of hair behind her ear. He looked so perfect, just as he was before he left her. She felt overwhelmed by his presence, happy and joyful that he was here. Everything was better now. Everything would be okay.

It doesn't erase anything that's happened, Her mind told her, making everything crash again. She held her arms around herself, looking as guarded as anything. Now it would mean she would have to keep this from him. It didn't change a thing.

"Good," he said taking a look around. "Its good to be back." Moving his eyes back to her, he took a step forward, moving away from the bars to come to her. "What were you just rehearsing?" He wanted to hug her – to feel her and to see her. Being away from her for a week caused him pain although he tried to cover it up with joy when he was with his friends.

Stepping away as he neared, Rachel removed herself from his wanting grasp. She ignored her internal wish to be in his arms again, thinking that maybe a cold shoulder would be best with him. "A guy came to talk to us about dreams." She informed him with that Rachel Berry mask of hers – ten times as better as before as she packed up her things; "Luckily I've known mine since I was four. I'm going to play three parts on Broadway..."

Explaining the rest, she drowned herself in her words, acting like those were still her dreams. They had to be she thought. There was no other dream she could have. It was all bull shit she was creating, she knew it, but she hoped he didn't. He couldn't.

"That's not a dream," he told her coming forth some more. He wanted to hold her – to be close to her. "A dream is something fills up the emptiness inside; the one thing that you know if it came true all the hurt would go away. You singing 'Don't Cry for me Argentina' in front of a sold out crowd isn't a fantasy, it's an inevitability."

The words that came out of his mouth were inspiring and true. He had hoped that they worked to where she would stop distancing herself from him like something was wrong and hug him. And she did.

Unable to hold back, she launched herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his chest, hugging him like she never wanted to let him go. His words made her want to cry. I never want to let him go. He gave a chuckle, taking her hug with ease while keeping his head on top of hers, resting and relishing in the missed feel. Something was different about her, that was for sure, but he didn't care. He had her.

"I thought you'd never come back," she mumbled, hoping to never let go. She wanted him to tell her everything was okay – to never leave her or go anywhere even though she probably would.

"And miss all your drama? Never." His way of silently saying 'I'm here'. They let go of each other, except for their hands of course, only to walk out the door and down the halls to class.

"So what is it, your dream?" he wondered curiously.

"I don't know," she said shyly, hoping not to think about earlier today. Jesse made her forget. He made the bad things and thoughts go away.

"Well go inside, find it, and as it what its going to take," he replied, watching her sudden shyness. What was going inside her head? Melting like putty, Rachel hoped she wouldn't start crying at his sweet words. "Why are you pushing this?"

He took her in his arms, her fitting perfectly against his side. She curled against him, slightly smiling while enjoying the way they could walk and hug each other down the hallway at the same time. He was just what I needed

"Because I'm your boyfriend. I want to know all your secrets," he smiled back nudging her gently. 'So what was going on?' Was his way of asking her about the silent problem she seemed to be having. Rachel knew Jesse could read her, just as Sean or her parents could. She couldn't keep something from him because he knew her too well. It was what brought them so close. She trusted him – just not with this. She wished she could tell him everything. She wanted to tell him what had happened and what was to come if he stuck by her. But she couldn't bring herself to say anything. She didn't want to lose him.

"When you lie awake at night, what's missing?" Jesse phrased it in a way that made Rachel think about other things. It wasn't about what she now had, rather what she didn't – something she could actually try to achieve.

"My mom," she said surprising herself.

"Your mom? Like you want to meet her?" he asked stunned too. Stopping in the crowded hallway, he turned the two of them so they could look at each other. It wasn't what he was expecting but it fit into his plans perfectly. The gods must have been on side, was all Jesse could think.

"I would just like to know who she is. I don't have to meet her or anything, but maybe just to find out her name or something out about her." She inhaled at the stare he was giving her – an indescribable puzzled stare. "Its silly," she claimed feeling the ridiculousness of her want herself. They continued to walk, each with an arm around each other. "Its not like it's going to happen or anything."

"Why?" he wondered curiously.

She blushed. "Well just because my dads never told me anything and I didn't want to ask anything because I didn't want to hurt their feelings." And I still don't. She thought to herself. They wouldn't need this on their plates now too.

"So lets check out it out without them knowing," he stated as they came to the classroom door. She looked at him uncomfortably, unsure of his actions and reasoning. This was a path that she wasn't sure if she was ready to take. It could get dangerous and messy. Of course she wanted to find something out about her mom, but what was she really going to find? Could it really happen?

"Do you know why I came back to school here?" he asked, breaking herself from her thoughts as he held her hands. "To win another title another national title and make all your dreams come true. If this is one of them then I'm not going to stop until this happens."

His words made her want to fly. He was amazing guy and she couldn't believe he continued to stock by her. He was really willing to do this – to help her and solve her mystery. "Okay."


She began the search when her class took a trip to the library. She dug through the library's archives researching her birth date and coming up with the perfect answer. Patti Lapone. It was perfect.

Searching for Jesse, she pitched the idea. She had this renewed sense of energy now that he was around. She found it easier to act around everyone and be less down. She stated her reasoning for Patti, showed him research and was able to answer almost all his questions. To her it was perfect. But when she saw his facial expressions, she stopped. He seemed to say it all without even saying it.

Doubt. His questions were not to get more of an explanation, but to gently ease out of the possibility that such a star was her mother. He carried skepticism that wasn't trying to be mean or to shut her down, but to bring her to reality. And unfortunately Bernadette Peters wasn't a real reality either.

"Why are you so afraid about finding the truth?" he wondered, so passionately it hurt Rachel's heart.

"I don't know. I guess I just don't want to think she's some teenage trollop like Quinn or worse – some skanky girl who would do anything for money including giving me up," she answered, afraid of what kind of answers she was going to dig up.

"Why does it have to be any of those choices? Why couldn't it be a really good reason?" he questioned. He knew the truth and he didn't want her to be afraid. Going on, he got up from his chair and held her hands, convincing her that they needed to start a real investigation. Something like CSI. And so they planned to go to her house. Her dads had their own Rachel Berry museum and setting the tape in there for Ms. Corcoran was perfect.


He hated having to set her up like this. He felt bad that he was doing so. Rachel Berry was growing on him. He sat upstairs in her bedroom waiting for her to come back with boxes with a tape box in his shirt pocket. It weighed on him like it was 50 pounds. Rachel was unlike any girl he had met. At first, this job for Shelby was a great way to practice his acting skills. He had to be perceptive and deceptive. He thought he was perfect for it, just like she had. He befriended the Rachel girl without a problem, being that forward Jesse St. James he liked to be when he was acting. He was cocky and somewhat rude, but it didn't bother her, rather it put him toe to toe with her. She spoke her mind, just like he, and didn't take his words as hurtful unless she could see he really meant it – which he never did.

He couldn't believe he was doing this now, still lying and deceiving Rachel when he knew he liked her. If she ever found out about this she was going to be crushed – as a matter of fact, he knew she was going to be because he was going to return to Vocal Adrenaline as soon as he planted the tape. A part of him didn't want to, but a larger part of him knew he was being silly. It was just a girl – just Rachel Berry. VA came before all of this. It had to. He had one last championship to win and ND just wasn't ready for that. She would be here; in Lima for the next two years and one day she would forgive him.

"What took so long?" he wondered when she came in the room with two boxes.

It took her longer than expected to gather some of her old baby stuff from the basement for a number of reasons. For one, there were so many boxes filled with so many things, her dads seemed to have documented every little thing about her life. It made her break down and cry in the middle of the room with all her old things around her. Her battle against cancer barely begun and she was already feeling like it was over. Not many more boxes would be stacked down here to document her achievements in life and her parents would be left with so much empty space.

After that, she pulled it together. She remembered that Jesse was still up stairs waiting for her. She grabbed the two earliest boxes she could quickly find, and went to head upstairs, only to stop by a wave of nausea. She ran to the bathroom, throwing up the small lunch she forced down and then washed her mouth, trying to put on a face like nothing was wrong. She climbed the rest of her way slowly to her room and brought the boxes in.

"There was so much stuff in the basement, " she said dramatically to answer his question. "It's like a shrine. Its creepy and flattering at the same time."

They sat down and went looking through all the items. Rachel found her baby teeth, a sonogram, trophies, baby shoes, photos, and then a tape. A tape. The smile from all the long and earlier memories was wiped from her face when she took the tape in her hands.

"Oh my god, she wrote this," Rachel said looking at the tape that had 'To daughter, from mother' on it. "S-she held this in her hands."

Before she could fawn over it any more, Jesse had swept it from her hands and went to go play it.

"W-what are you doing?!" she asked in a daze, feeling emptiness in her hands all of the sudden.

"Playing the tape," he said eagerly, ready to sit with Rachel and listen.

"No!" she exclaimed flustered getting up from her spot on the bed.

"Why not? She wrote this. She wanted you to hear this," Jesse explained.

"No," she said again, now completely unsure. "T-Th-this is all happening too fast. What if she's singing on the tape? What if she's terrible? Or worse. What if she's better than me?"

"I can't believe we're so close to your dream coming true and you're running away from it."

"No," she objected feeling overwhelmed. "Its my choice. It's my life. And I-" She thought to herself about what Sean had always said about being mad at himself for holding back. What was the worse that could happen? He told her. This was different though she contradicted. "N-n-nah, I'm not ready."

Taking the tape from him, she turned around and went to sit back down at the foot of her bed. "Jesse, I think you should go." I can't cry in front of you about this, she thought again. She couldn't believe this was happening and her dream about her mom was coming so true so fast; first her relapse and now this? He stood there for a moment, watching her distraught face before leaving, hearing her cry.

All by herself, for 10, maybe 15 minutes, she didn't know, she cried. She packed the boxes that her and Jesse opened and took everything back down to the basement, all except for the tape. She set the item on her desk face down unable to bring herself to listen to it. She couldn't. Not yet at least.


She saw Sean again that next afternoon. It had been pouring rain all day and after the decision for Glee Club to be cut, she wanted to see him.

"Rachel," he said with kindness.

"Sean," she smiled back, this time not afraid to take a seat next to him. "How are you?"

"Working through calc 2," he responded, looking over to the book by his bed. His mom and him must have been doing it before she came. Rachel smiled at his talents and praised him.

"What's wrong?" he wondered.

"How do you do that?" she smiled with a small laugh and teary eyes.

"When you lay here day by day, you learn things about people. You learn how to read and pick up on their emotions."

She stayed silent looking at her lap and tried her hardest not too cry. "You try too hard Rachel," he said to her. "I may compensate with humor but you try to think to happy."

"How do you know I'm not just a happy person in general? You know my fellow glee clubbers say I'm annoying because I have such ambitions and dreams."

"But that's just it," he said. "Ambitions and dreams are one thing. You are trying to appear like everything is always alright."

The pretend smile fell from her face.

"So are you going to tell me now?" he wondered patiently.

Finally, she did. She broke down and told him about what happened with Mr. Ryan and how he tried to get rid of glee club but then didn't but then did again. She elaborated what happened with her dreams and the tape that her and Jesse found that had her mom on it. Sean wanted so bad to wipe her tears on his own, but instead he was embarrassedly and straightforward told her to do it for him. "I can't stand to see you sad," he told her when she did what he requested. The silence between them became awkward.

"I'm sorry," she spoke unsure why she was apologizing. To her, she really hoped that he wasn't getting the wrong idea. She was with Jesse and was happy, she just…well he just-…

"Don't be," he said getting exactly what he was trying to say. He didn't take it personally or blame it on his physical state; rather he knew that she was with someone.

Instead of talking about her problems any more, they sang together and spent the rest of the time laughing. They swapped stories about their families, Finn, and even some secrets. She enjoyed having a lighter time with him, and only felt nauseous once. He understood completely and whole-heartedly, never judging her once.

"I'll see you next week," she told him again when she went to leave.

"Stay dry," he instructed, turning his head to refer to the hard drops of rain that made noise against his window.

When she got home, she went upstairs and ran a brush through her wet hair. The rain didn't show any momentum of letting up, kind of like her mood when she was alone. She tried to act as happy as she was when she left Sean's when she got home, but reality haunted her when she was here. She took her time to comb her hair, thankful that she still had it. The chemo wasn't making her lose all of her hair, rather just strands here and there.

Walking out of the bathroom. She was caught off guard when she saw she had a visitor. "Jesse," she said surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He stood by her desk where her music player was and gave a careful encouraging look. "I said that I was going to make your dreams come true," he showed her the empty tape deck in his hand and went to close the player to press play.

"No, I'm not ready!" she rushed to her desk, ready to pull the thing out of there.

"Yes," he said, stopping her and hovering his body over hers while taking her hands. He smelled of that manly peculiar scent Rachel loved and glistened from tonight's rain. "You are." She stared into his eyes, hoping her wouldn't do this. Hoping that he wouldn't make her want something she wasn't sure she could have. This was too big, it was too much. But then he kissed her. His soft perfect lips landed on hers and made her nervous doubtful butterflies go away. It was a small simple kiss, a quick one really, which made her eyes search his once more when they pulled apart. It was almost like he was saying sorry or goodbye – she wasn't sure because then he backed away. He pressed play on the player, faced her to make she was okay, and walked backwards watching her until he went away.

"Hi baby, it's your mom. I think this pretty much says it all." Her voice floated in Rachel's ears singing 'I Dreamed a Dream'.

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living

I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving

It was the perfect song and her mother's voice was incredible. It was perfect – smooth. It matched hers. Rachel imagined singing with her mom, singing it beside her as they belted out the words and large notes. She wanted this now. She wanted this vision to come true.

Then I was young and unafraid
and dreams were made and used and wasted
there was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung
No wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dream to shame

And still I dream [s]he'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather!

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now, from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed

The song came to an end, leaving Rachel into a helpless mess of want, desire, and confusion. What was she to do next?


A/N: Don't forget to review!