Breathe Again

Car is parked, bags are packed,
But what kind of heart doesn't look back,
At the comfortable glow from the porch,
The one I will still call yours

Sara Bareilles

The doorbell rang.

"About damn time," she heard a muffled voice come from the other side of the door, "Someone's finally showed up."

The door was hastily pulled open and a very nicely dressed, dark haired man stood there. She blushed a little at the charming, attractive smile he shot her.

"Hey there," he said, "Are you the babysitter Shelby hired?"

"Umm..." was all Rachel could say.

Deciding to take her silence for a yes, he beckoned her into the house. It was with hesitant steps she complied. Her eyes darted all around the house, taking it in. This was the first time she'd been to Shelby's- her mother's, she corrected herself- house. After the regionals competition's conclusion, with Vocal Adrenaline in first and New Directions as runners up (she'd been mildly disappointed, but thankful that they'd at least placed), mother and daughter had immediately gone through with their plan to finally meet. They'd been so impatient, they'd agreed to meet for coffee at five in the morning the next day. Even if they'd been dead tired, dressed in unglamorous sweats, and jittery from the coffee only just keeping them awake, talking to Shelby, mom, in person was better than anything else.

She'd been terrified that after all of the amazing online conversations they'd had, they'd become like all those other people who had nothing to say once they were face to face. It was a relief that after only slight awkwardness in beginning, they'd eventually eased into regular conversing. They'd parted reluctantly, but planned to have many more meetings for the future. For the last month now, when she wasn't hanging out with glee members and Sam, she was out with her mom doing mother-daughter things. Their relationship wasn't conventional in any sense, and she was too old to be her mom's little girl, but she had her mom, and she could spend time with her.

Not everyone could say they had that much.

Just recently, Beth had been added to their new, strange family unit. Shelby had made the decision to adopt her after Rachel told her about Quinn putting her baby up for adoption. Rachel was still getting used to the fact the baby was the biological daughter of both Quinn and Puck. She hadn't informed either of them of the fact that she babysat their daughter a couple times a week. One could only imagine how awkward that conversation would be.

"Well, she is the babysitter, sort of," Shelby said, sidling up beside the man, "This is the where I give the introductions."

"Introductions?" There was puzzlement in his voice.

"Jimi, this is Rachel, my daughter."

"You have another daughter?" the man, Jimi, as her mom had called him, asked in surprise. His eyes swiveled over to her.

"Yes," Shelby answered, glancing at Rachel momentarily before looking back to him, nervous, "Beth is adopted. Rachel is my biological daughter. She lives with her fathers."

"Hmm." Jimi looked her over. Just the sight of his face, Rachel could see the mental cogs hard at work processing the information. She tensed, wondering if there was anything in her mother's confession that Jimi would react poorly to. "I can see now that she's yours. She's pretty, just like you."

As one, Rachel and Shelby swooned a little. He was smooth. Flushing, the girl thanked him bashfully for the compliment. Rachel allowed her hackles to settle. She'd been ready to tear into the man if he had started judging her mom for having a teenage daughter, or an adopted daughter, and especially if he judged her fathers.

"Anyways, Rachel's here to watch Beth while we're out."

"So you're here helping out by looking after your little sister?"

"Yes sir," she responded politely with a nod.

"On a Friday night?" he asked, seeming genuinely surprised, "Shouldn't you be out with a boy on a night like this?"

"I don't mind. I'm uh, not currently seeing anyone romantically right now anyway," Rachel admitted, her fingers playing with a piece of her hair, "I don't know if mom's told you," she noticed flash of joy on her mom's face when she called her mom, "But due to certain circumstances, we weren't able to meet until recently. I've missed out for the last sixteen years of my life. Any chance to spend time with her or Beth is important because we're family. Even if we're not related by blood, Beth is my sister and I'll take care of her."

Jimi, while initially taken aback by her startlingly honest and open answer, seemed to appraise her for it.

"Well, then I think you're a good kid," he said finally, "I have kids like your mom does. Two boys. You kind of remind me of my oldest, always watching out for his little brother. Taking care of him."

"I think we've got to get going Jimi," Shelby said, smiling fondly and tapping her wrist. She looked over to Rachel, "Beth's napping in her crib right now, but she'll probably wake up at some point soon. I fed her not to long ago, but she'll be hungry in a couple of hours. You know where I keep the bottles." She stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Rachel's cheek. "Thank you again for doing this baby. I'll be back at eleven."

"All right, now get going." She turned Shelby to face Jimi and lightly pushed her in his direction. "It was nice meeting you Jimi. Make sure my mom has a good time!"

"Nice to meet you too. Take care of your sister." The man gave her nod and a little salute as he offered his arm to her mom. "Let's go."

Then, they were out the door. There was a roar of an engine coming to life in the driveway that soon settled into a rumble that faded as it drove away to destinations Rachel didn't know, but would probably be getting details about later. That left her alone in her mom's house with her adopted sister. She went to go check on Beth and wasn't surprised to see the baby's eyes open and staring up at her.

"Hi sweetie," she cooed, coming over to lean on the railing of the crib and dangling an arm into it. Beth's fingers settled onto her single one, not quite grasping, but touching it, "How are you today?"

The baby didn't respond, just fussed a little. She lit up at the movement nonetheless.

"That bad? How about I sing you? I think you'll enjoy it. I know for a fact that my voice is spectacular."

Beth wiggled her arm a little.

"All right. Since you insisted...

"Come stop your crying, it will be alright, just take my hand, hold it tight..."

Happily, she watched as Beth's eyes eventually fluttered shut.

The sounds of pencils scratching against paper filled the room as students took down the homework assignment that had been put on the board. Those who finished writing fastest were able to pack away their belonging sooner and shuffle out of the room to their next class. Some took their time doing so, waiting on others so they could walk together to their next class. Sam was done fairly quickly and was ready to get out of there was suddenly waylaid by a perky brunette wearing light pink just as he cleared the doorway. Her name was Rachel, and the only reason he remembered that was because it was the same as his best friend's name.

"Hi Sam!" she greeted, her smile all dimples and teeth. "I'm Rachel Szymanski. From your Calc class. Are you planning on going to the senior prom?"

He blinked. Prom?

"I can judge from your expression you haven't. Well, I know we haven't talked much this year, but I've seen you around and well, I think you're kind of cute and I'd love it if maybe you could go with me. Please?"

He blinked again. She was right about one thing, he really hadn't thought at all about prom, which was why her asking him to accompany her really blindsided him. And wow. She was asking him to go with her? Sam was used to having to ask girls out or have Dean set him up with dates, which was especially humiliating. The only other time he'd been asked out (well not ask out so much as propositioned) by a girl was by Santana. It had been awkward, strangely flattering, but awkward, so he'd said no. Maybe it was just a McKinley High thing for girls to ask guys? Back to the situation at hand. This girl was asking him out. And she was pretty cute. But another thing she was right about was that he didn't remember talking much to her ever. Beyond thinking she was cute, he had no desire to go to prom with her.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to sound sincerely sorry, "I'm flattered that you thought of me, but I'm actually going with someone else."

Her expression blanked for a second, and he was afraid she was going to get upset with him, but she quickly pasted a smile on.

"Oh." She sounded disheartened. "Really? That's too bad. Who is she?"

Shit. He'd wanted to let her down easy by saying he already had a date. He hadn't expected her to call him on his bluff.

"Just a friend. I wanted to spend the night with someone I could really talk to you know?"

"Yes. I suppose I understand. You don't mean that little sophmore, Berry, do you? I've seen you two together a lot."

His jaw tightened.

"That's exactly who I meant. Why? Do you have a problem with her?"

The other Rachel's eyes went wide at his strained tone.

"Oh no, not at all! She's a very close friend of yours isn't she? She must be a great girl if you like her so much."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, relaxing, "Yeah, she is."

"Well, it's a shame you're already taken. I guess I'll see you later Sam."

She shot him a winning smile and flounced off. Sam stayed rooted to the spot trying figure out what had just happened. He didn't snap out of it until he felt a tug on his arm. For a moment, he was confused when he didn't see anyone, but when he heard a throat clear, he blushed and looked down.

"Looked like you were far away there Winchester," Artie remarked with a quirk of his lips, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"Did it have to do with that cute girl you were talking to?"

"Yeah. She asked me to prom."

Artie whistled.

"Nice. So you're going with her to prom?"

"No," Sam answered, "I told her I was going with Rachel."

"Really?" Artie's eyebrows went so high, they cleared his glasses rims. "The girls will be happy to hear about that. They were really unhappy when they realized the two of you really weren't dating. So are you guys finally official now?"

"No. Still just friends. I haven't actually asked Rachel. I just told the other girl I was going with her to let her down easy."

The boy in the wheelchair shook his head.

"Maybe you should ask her out." For the umpteenth time, Sam blinked. Artie regarded him patiently. "You should ask Rachel out to prom. She'd love the opportunity to dress up and I'm sure she wouldn't say no to spending time with you. And you could do a lot worse than your best friend."

"Yeah. Maybe."

"Just a suggestion bro," Artie said patting his arm, "And if for some strange reason you do ask Rachel and she doesn't say yes and you still need a fake date, I'm sure Mercedes or Tina wouldn't mind either."

With that, he wheeled off to wherever he needed to be. Sam shook his head and followed suit, his thoughts full of prom and both Rachels.

"Hey, you free this Saturday?"

"Yes. Would you like to come over and spend the day at my house Sam?" Rachel asked without really paying attention.

"Actually, I had something else in mind."

"Oh?"

"Wanna go to prom with me?"

"That sounds fine."

A second after the words slipped out of her mouth, she realized what she'd just agreed to. Her eyes wide, she gave Sam an incredulous stare.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"You just asked me to prom."

"Yeah," he replied, looking like for all the world that he didn't understand why she was suddenly freaking out, "I asked you to go to prom with me and you said yes."

"Sam," she said, her inflection getting pitchy with panic, "You asked me to prom."

"Are you changing your mind?" he asked, confused.

"You caught me off guard! I didn't even realize what you were asking me!" Her breath was coming in shallow bursts. She tried really hard to calm down, but she couldn't. This was Sam, her best friend. This shouldn't be so weird. Except it was. "Why me? Isn't there some girl in one of your classes you've been secretly watching and intend to ask out?"

While this was a valid question, it was pointless because Rachel already knew Sam wasn't interested in anyone. She would've known before he did if he had a crush on some girl. Even in the past when they'd just been talking over the phone, Rachel had could tell when he was preoccupied and when it was a girl who was keeping him that way.

She hated the internal relief she had in knowing there was no girl.

"Why not you Rachel?" Sam asked her, "I honestly don't know any of the girls in my classes very well. And even if I did, I don't think I'd enjoy myself even half as much as I would if I went with you. So please, go with me? I already bought the tickets. I'd hate for them to go to waste."

There Sam went, saying things that made her ridiculously emotional. She wanted to tell him she couldn't go with him. That she had no business going to prom with him. At the same time, deep down, she couldn't help the joy she felt that out of all of the people Sam could have picked from- and seriously, Sam could have anyone he wanted if he put even the slightest effort into it- he picked her. The only person she'd ever imagined attending prom with was Finn, while they'd been together. She didn't even know when her feelings had begun shifting towards her best friend, but the minute she realized it, everything had become more awkward around him. Things Puck or Finn did when flirting with her seemed to pale in comparison to the simplest touches and words from Sam. How had she ever kept her heartbeat steady around him before? Staying calm around him now was impossible.

It wouldn't be long until he had her figured out, and when he did, she'd ruin the most important relationship she had in her entire life.

"Sure Sam," she finally told him, "Wouldn't want those tickets to go to waste at all."

She was such a goner.

"You better take as many pictures as you can!" Mercedes demanded.

"Seriously!" Tina exclaimed, hanging off her arm excitedly, "We need to be able to live the experience vicariously through you!"

"Can you ask Sam to let me touch his car?"

Everyone paused to look at Blaine, who was unrepentantly staring Rachel down with pleading eyes. Kurt rolled his eyes fondly with a sigh.

"Don't mind him. Blaine really likes his classic cars."

"It's not just a car!" Blaine went over to the window, placing his hand on it and staring out into the driveway longingly, "It's a '67 Chevy Impala," he whispered reverently, stroking the window, "She's gorgeous."

Kurt's eye twitched. Rachel giggled as she tugged her older male friend away from the window.

"Come now Blaine, curb your enthusiasm. You're making your boyfriend jealous of the Impala."

Hooking one of her arms through his and looping another through Kurt's, she pulled them both towards the door. They'd all come to prepare her for the big night. Brittany would've come, but she and Santana had been invited by upperclassmen as well, and Santana refused to come join them for pre-prom prep. Brittany didn't want to leave Santana to get ready on her own, so she left Rachel to Kurt and Mercedes knowing they would take care of her.

Mercedes had outdone herself with the dress choice. Both she and Kurt had flat out rejected anything skanky. In Kurt's words, "it's just not your look, honey." So they'd found something that fit her look, short, sweet, almost innocent, but elegant. She let the tips of her fingers brush along the soft white material, marveling at how it seemed to float around her. Kurt had finished the ensemble off with some light make up and a simple up do.

"The look on Winchester's face is going to be priceless," Mercedes cackled to Tina as she linked arms with the Asian girl. The two trailed after the Rachel sandwich, sharing secret smiles.

Rachel blushed, realizing that the big staircase moment was coming. Where she, the ethereal beauty, was supposed to descend the steps as if she were floating down to where her dashing date awaited her after being grilled by her over protective fathers.

Of course, because she was Rachel Berry, nothing went as it was supposed to.

Blaine and Kurt, after silently conspiring with each other via their eyes over Rachel's head, on the count of three lifted her off her feet and carried her down the steps whilst she screamed at the surprise. When the world stopped moving and came back into focus, she still wasn't on her feet. In fact, she'd been deposited into the arms of one Sam Winchester, who was looking down at her a little confused but smiling nonetheless. She blushed again and looked away.

Her friends and fathers were cheering and cooing about how adorable they looked together. Her daddy Hiram, of course, had been there whole time video taping the entire thing. It seemed her humiliation would be preserved for posterity's sake.

"Oh, don't give us that look sweetheart!" her shorter doctor dad, Leroy, laughed.

Her glare only intensified as Sam mercifully set her onto her feet.

"Hey," she heard him say to get her attention, "You look really beautiful Rachel."

Only his arm around her shoulder stopped her from swaying woozily and falling into a dead faint. Her head felt so light, it was like she could float away. Even when she'd been dating Finn, he'd never told her she was beautiful. Maybe once he'd told her she was pretty, but at the time, it had sounded insincere to her ears. Rachel knew she didn't look awful, but when your only admirers were the school pervert and the guy who chased anything with legs and you got slushied by everyone else, your ego had to take a hit, or two, or twenty.

It took her three minutes to compose herself and thank him for the wonderful compliment.

Just before they got to the door (the others were lurking on the periphery, trying to maintain distance but not miss anything), Sam stopped both of them and reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out. Rachel couldn't stop her gasp when she saw it. It was a corsage, a very beautiful corsage. There was a single white flower, wreathed in baby's breath. Gently, Sam took her left wrist and slipped it on.

"I didn't really know what to get," he told her, "So I asked Kurt."

"I love it," she breathed out.

"Good." He held his elbow out to her. "Time to go?"

Glancing over her shoulder for a moment, she looked back to him and nodded, taking his arm. Rachel waved to her fathers and her friends and soon, they were out the door. The minute it closed behind them, all of the teenagers rushed to the window to watch them go, Hiram and Leroy following a couple steps behind.

"Did you see her corsage?" Leroy asked Hiram quietly.

"Yes. Gardenia and baby's breath." Hiram eyed Kurt. "I wonder if he knew."

"Probably. Who knows?" Leroy laughed. "Regardless, it's fitting. Maybe some day, they'll figure it out."

"Maybe. But eight years is a long time to be clueless."

"I think they'll have the rest of their lives to make up for it."

"You're such a hopeless romantic," Hiram whispered, slipping an arm around Leroy's waist and pulling him closer while the kids weren't watching.

"You love it."

Music pulsed through the gym, loud and fast paced. Sam kind of recognized the beat as something mainstream but that was as far as his knowledge went. Despite being best friends with the captain of the glee club and self-proclaimed diva, he lacked familiarity with any music outside classic 70s rock, and even then, not by choice. He glanced around, taking in the sight of the other teens at this thing. Many were classmates of his. Some even waved when they saw him. Well, when he was alone.

A frown tugged at his lips. Though the upperclassmen of McKinley were a little more tolerant than her own classmates, he could still see the distaste they had for Rachel on their faces when they saw her on his arm. Most of the people he'd become acquaintances with had grown accustomed to the fact that he was friends with her, but it seemed no matter what he or Rachel did, they'd always look down their noses at her just like when they'd been younger. The only difference was that Sam understood why they did it, but that didn't make him dislike the treatment any less. In fact, it just made him angrier that people could be so shallow and superficial that the minute someone tried to express themselves honestly, even baring the parts others might not like, they were shunned and bullied and put down. It was a wonder that Rachel made it this far and still remained the person he'd been so drawn to back when they were kids.

She had so much opposition to her hopes and dreams, but she fought like a lion to achieve it. He'd watched her take the glee club from its destitute state and turn it into something amazing. Sam wished he could fight for what he wanted in life like she did. Take control of it. He understood he couldn't run away from hunting. It was something too ingrained in his being. But he wanted to find a balance the way Rachel had. She had her dreams and hunting. Couldn't he have that too? Go to college, get a real job, and if he wanted to, hunt on the side?

No, it seemed like too much to ask for. He couldn't imagine leaving his dad or Dean like that.

"Hey, where's Berry?"

Lifting his head, he found the seat across from his occupied by Santana Lopez, one of Rachel's teammates from glee. He kicked himself for not noticing her coming to sit next to him. If it had been his dad catching him unaware like that, he'd have gotten a lecture about not being conscious of his surroundings.

"She needed to go use the bathroom," Sam replied, not knowing what else to say.

Out of the glee kids, Sam knew Santana the least. The first time they'd met, she'd tried to get him to go out with her, and implied doing more than just go out. While he admitted that Santana was one of the prettiest girl's he'd ever met, someone Dean would definitely approve of, he wasn't interested in what she was offering. That and he didn't appreciate the fact that she was one of the people making Rachel's life a living hell. It had apparently hurt her pride to be shot down by some nerd (even if he was a hottie), especially if it was in favor of Rachel "Yentl" Berry. For a long time after that incident, she refused to acknowledge him and if she had to, she only ever referred to him as "Gigantor" and "BFG aka Big Freakin' Geek," as rudely as possible. After sectionals, when she started warming up to Rachel, she stopped being so cold to him, but they never really became all that friendly the way he had with the rest of the club.

That was why it was weird that she'd come up to him now of all times and talk to him.

"So you are here together," the girl said, a wickedly delighted smile touching her lips, "Did you guys finally admit that you want to elope and have babies together once Berry's legal?"

"What?" Sam denied, though it came as more of a squeak, "No! Why did you even think that? We're here as friends."

"What the fuck?" the Latina exclaimed, "You've got to be kidding me. The two of you are still pulling that 'we're just friends' denial bullshit?"

"Because we are," Sam insisted irritably.

"You know what? I's be getting fed up with all this UST you guys have coming off of you 24/7. I'm not like, telling you to go do the nasty right now or something like that, although I know it would do you some good, but for Chrissake, get your shit straight and admit to yourself you're totally into the midget and she totally into you too."

Sam stared at her open mouthed, not sure what to say in response. Was there even a response to everything she'd just dumped on him? It wasn't something he hadn't necessarily heard before; Mercedes and Kurt were determined to get him and Rachel to date. And Puck still didn't believe they weren't together. But to hear it coming from Santana was just... weird.

"You don't believe me?" She was shooting him a glare that seemed to say 'are you stupid or something?' "Then let me lay it all out for you. Unless they're gay, boys do not say no to all of this hot action," she gestured to herself, "Unless they're already digging someone else. And Berry? You don't even need a reason to prove she's in that sickly sweet forever kind of love with you. She fucking wears her heart on her sleeve and it's got property of Sam Winchester tramp stamped all over it. So once again, I tell you, get your shit straight because if you don't, the one who gets hurt is going to be her. And then you'll get hurt because every single member of the glee club will fucking murder you with whatever we can use to take a swing at your abnormally huge body."

If it weren't for the tone in her voice, Sam would have gone with his first instinct to forget she'd ever opened her mouth. Santana seemed so solemn as she stared off somewhere far away. He followed her line of sight and found Brittany at the end of it.

Things suddenly clicked with startling clarity.

Not just that Santana was in her own way coming out to him about being in love with Britney. But that for as well as he could read Rachel after all of these years, he admitted that sometimes signals got confused. Maybe... everyone else wasn't crazy. Sam always thought he was really good at reading other people but he had to admit, he had a blind spot when it came to those he cared about. And when it came down to his own feelings? While he wasn't as closed off as his dad and Dean thanks to Rachel's influence, he wasn't above ignoring the obvious signs.

And now those signs were coming back to bite him in the ass.

"Sam?"

He jumped, startled by the sudden presence at his side. Glancing across the table, he found the seat vacant and Santana nowhere in sight. She must've slipped away while he was having his incredibly inconvenient epiphany. Rachel was staring down at him, amused at the fact she'd caught him off guard (for his second time that night, not that she knew that).

With a low groan that wouldn't be heard over the sound of the music he tried in vain to fight the reaction he was having at seeing her now. Especially with how good she looked tonight. Rachel had always been an unconventional type of pretty. He'd be dumb to have known her for so long and not see it himself. And in that dress, she looked like an angel. His eyes were drawn to a lock of her hair that had managed to escape whatever weird thing Kurt had done with her hair and was just sitting there on her shoulder. He wanted to reach out tuck it behind her ear. It was something he always did thoughtlessly for her, but suddenly, it felt dirty to him. He not only wanted to tuck it back and take advantage of the opportunity to drag his fingertips along her shoulder, across her collar bone. See if the skin was as soft as it looked.

Mentally, he cursed. How was it that one conversation with Santana could turn him into such a frickin' pervert?

"Hey um..." Sam tried to look for a distraction. He looked at the people dancing. "Do you, um, want to," he looked a second time, unable to think of something, "Do you want to dance?" he finally blurted out.

That was not what he had wanted to say. Rachel seemed as stunned as he did that he'd asked. They hadn't planned on really dancing, which Sam had to admit was kind of lame because this was prom. She hadn't minded because she knew how much he didn't like to dance. Now, it was too late to take back the request. She looked so excited, he couldn't take that away from her.

Taking her hand in his own, he led her to the dance floor. Rachel looked about as nervous as he felt. He really didn't know the first thing about dancing and it was obvious in his hesitation. He'd really hate to step on her toes. She was wearing these strappy sandals that would do nothing to protecting them from his huge feet. A slow song started playing and that seemed to coax a tiny smile out of his friend.

"You should hold me."

"Huh?"

"Just put your arms around me, and I'll put mine around you, and we'll just sway. Easy enough, right?"

"I guess," he replied, blushing in embarrassment at how she had to simplify things for him.

"Come here," she directed, hold her arms open to him.

He did as he was told, stepping into her space, and was rewarded with the feel of her arms circling his body. Tentatively, he let his own go around her. After a minute of standing like that, feeling a fraction bolder, he pulled her closer to him. His heart started pumping faster when she gave a content sigh and rested her head on his chest.

"And now let's sway."

As they moved, it felt like the world fell away in a swirl of bright colors and warmth.

This was starting to get frustrating.

Brittany really didn't like getting lost. It was just so hard to remember how to get places when there were so many places to remember how to get to. She knew how to go home and she knew how to get to school. On good days, she remembered where the mall was or where Cheerio practice was being held. Bathrooms, she never bothered memorizing where they were because she always found them eventually, even if she sometimes ended up in the one for boys, not girls. The problem was that now that she had found the bathroom, she wasn't exactly sure where to go to get back to the dance. Sanny would probably be looking for her, and she'd wanted a chance to find Rachel and Sam so she could dance with them. Dancing was so much fun, and when she danced with her friends, it was even better.

But she didn't know how to get back. And for some reason, she found herself near the football field. It was cold and dark and she didn't like it and she wanted to find Sanny and Rachel and Sam.

A loud noise suddenly grabbed her attention. She could hear something moving around nearby. Afraid, she slipped a hand into her purse where she kept an assortment of things for protection, like pepper spray, that thing that made loud noises when she pressed a button, her knife, her salt shaker, etc. Peeking under the bleachers, she could make out the form of a guy. She watched as he hefted a large bag of something over to a hole and started pouring something white into it. It took her a couple of minutes to figure out that it was salt. Her fear that he might be one of those bad guys her parents and Sanny were always telling her to watch out for started to go away. Anyone who used salt like Rachel, Sam and Puck was definitely not a bad guy.

"Dammit," the man cursed, checking his pockets, "Where the hell did I put those matches?"

"Excuse me?" she said, trying to get her attention, "Excuse me mister?"

The man froze, and turned to face her. He was kind of cute.

"Hi, I'm Brittany!" She said, introducing herself.

"Kid," he started saying, looking panicked, "I don't think you should be here right now."

"Oh, I get it. It's dangerous cause there's a ghost out right?"

"Yeah, I- what?"

"Yeah, McKinley has a whole bunch of ghosts. My friends are always busy trying to get rid of them, and they tell me I can't tell anyone else because they won't believe it." She pouted for a moment before brightening. "But I can tell you 'cause you're a hunter! Only hunters use salt."

"Uh..." was all he could say.

"Here," Brittany said, reaching out into her bag and pulling out her matchbook and holding it out to him. Santana always thought it was weird she had one even though she didn't smoke. The Latina told her she was worried she might be a pyromaniac, whatever that was, "I always have salt and a lighter just incase."

He took it from her, lit one and tossed it into the hole. They stood together in silence watching the flames. Brittany liked it because it was nice and warm.

"How do you know about hunting?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"My best friend Rachel hunts. She saved my life," Brittany replied proudly.

"Huh." He scratched the back of his neck. "Well, um, I've got to be going, so..."

"Do you mind if you walk me back to the school Mister Hunter? I get lost a lot, so if you take me, I won't get lost."

"Oh, uh, sure, no problem."

"Thank you," she told him eagerly, holding her hand out for him to take it.

For the longest time, he stared at it incredulously before he grabbed it in his own calloused one and started leading her back.

He pushed a piece of paper across the piano to her. Glancing at him, she went to pick it up, curious about what was so special about it.

She hadn't even gotten through more than the first paragraph before she lunged at him, sliding across the piano. Her arms were thrown around his neck as she screamed.

"Stanford! A full scholarship to Stanford! Omigod Sam! Omigod!"

Sam could always count on Rachel to articulate how he should feel about something. As it was, he was still a little numb from the shock and unsure whether to celebrate. Obviously, celebration was the right answer.

"You!" she said, sticking a finger in his face, "Are coming to my house tonight to celebrate with me and my fathers and whoever else I can invite to my house on short notice. We are going to throw you a party. Understand?"

"Completely."

"I'm so utterly proud of you..." she said more quietly, her face falling into his neck.

Blushing, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged back.

Their moment was ruined when wolf whistles sounded off all around them.

"Get a room you too!" Mercedes crowed, and they could hear cackles in stereo.

"Everyone!" Rachel cried, releasing Sam suddenly, completely unaffected by their hyena audience, "Guess who just got accepted to Stanford on a full scholarship?"

Soon, Sam found himself mobbed. He couldn't remember a time he'd ever felt so loved and supported by so many people.

Something Sam had been trying to figure out finally resolved itself right then and there. Thanks to Rachel and all of these people, he knew what his next step was going to be.

When Sam called her, Rachel had been worried. He the tone in his voice had been dead. She hadn't been able to get much in edgewise. He'd asked if he could stay with her for a while and if she could come pick him up. He refused to explain what was going on, just that he had done something stupid and he needed her to come get him.

As she drove, she tried to think about what was bothering Sam. Most likely, the answer was that he'd had a fight with his father and Dean again. Ever since they went to prom together, something seemed different with Sam. He seemed on edge, and when she asked, he always told her there was something he was trying to figure out. The only time she'd been able to get anything substantial out of him was when he told her that he'd been having issues with his father lately. They'd been fighting more often, and Sam admitted that he'd been instigating them. She knew he hated the way his father controlled his and his brother's lives. And she'd always been there to talk him through the rage he felt after every time his father took something else away from him.

She pulled into the parking lot of the motel the Winchesters were staying, staring at the building apprehensively. Rachel wondered if she should call him to let him know she'd arrived, or go and knock on the door. It reminded her of the last time she'd knocked on a motel room door, and she smiled fondly, it albeit weakly, at the memory.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and Sam came storming out of it carrying a large duffel bag. Immediately, she was taking off her seat belt and getting out of the car. As she ran to him, she saw someone else come running out that motel room. Looking a little closer, she realized it was Dean. She barely recognized him, considering it had been a long time ago and how he'd been a teenager then. He was an adult now, and had grown up and filled out, a lot like how Sam had.

"Sam!" she heard Dean call out to his brother, "Sammy, wait up!"

"Just leave me alone Dean," Sam told him, coming to a stop in front of Rachel and refusing to look at the other man.

"I said wait!" Dean yelled, crossing the parking lot in no time. He reached out and yanked Sam around to face him, "Dad didn't mean it Sammy. He's just angry. He gets angry all the time. You should know better."

The desperation in the man's voice made Rachel even more anxious than she already felt.

"What's going on?" she asked timidly.

"Stay out of this," the older brother snapped at her.

Rachel flinched at the vehemence in his voice. Sam, who'd been ignoring him so far, shoved Dean away.

"You don't talk to her that way," he snarled.

"What the hell man!" The shorter man glared at Sam before sneering down at her. "Don't tell me that you're doing all of this just for some freaking girl!"

"Sam?"

"She's not just some girl. And you know that it's been coming down to this. Did you expect me just do this for the rest of my life?"

Dean didn't say anything, but the stubborn set of his jaw and the look in his eyes seemed confirmation enough.

"Well, I'm not!" Sam shouted, "There has to be more to this. This is what Dad wants for me, not what I want. I want to have a life outside of hunting."

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed, shooting a warning glance at Rachel.

"I don't care what anyone says, but I'm going to college at Stanford. I got a full ride and I'm not going to let you or Dad stand in the way. I've worked too hard to just throw away this opportunity."

"So you're just going to be selfish and leave us? Forget about mom?" his older brother demanded.

"Mom is dead!" Dean's entire body went rigid. Rachel felt very afraid when she saw his body language shifting from desperation to violence. She knew Mary Winchester was a sensitive subject for the Winchesters. Especially for the father and oldest son. "And I'm sorry that I'll never get to meet her, but I'm tired of trying to avenge the death of a woman I never knew. This is your and Dad's fight, not mine." His expression grew cold. "Besides, Dad said it himself that if I walked out that door, not to come back."

Rachel gasped. This wasn't just Sam running away from home after a fight with John. He'd been kicked out. To her, the idea of throwing your own child out was deplorable. She'd been raised in a home of full of love and tolerance. Parents weren't supposed to do that to you. Except, in some cases, they did. She'd seen it happen to Quinn after her parents had found out she was pregnant. But this was happening to her Sam. After being the person on the other end of the phone listening to him as he poured out all of the bitterness and unhappiness his father had caused him, Rachel had tried to believe there was good in John Winchester. That he was the way he was because he missed his wife and would give anything to keep his sons safe. The only way she forgave a man she'd never met for stealing Sam's hope was by reminding herself that he did it because he loved his son. Anyone who loved Sam couldn't be bad.

But throwing out your son was not the act of a parent who loved their child.

And that was the final straw for Rachel.

She brushed past Sam and Dean, stalking towards the still open door of their motel room. Sam was calling out her name from behind her, but she was too far gone to care. There, sitting on one of the beds was John Winchester.

Except, she didn't know him as John Winchester.

"Jimi?" she asked, her anger displaced momentarily by her shock.

"Rachel?"

He looked just as surprised as she was. She quickly got over the realization as it just turned into another reason for her to hate John Winchester. He'd hurt Sam and he'd been lying to her mom. It took only a couple of steps before she was in front of him, pulling her arm back and slapping him with everything in her body. It made her mad to see that he gave no outward show of pain beyond a wince.

"Jimi Hendrickson, John Winchester, whoever the hell you are, you are a sad excuse for a father and a sad excuse for a man!" she screamed into his face, "How dare you throw Sam out for wanting to go to college! He has a right to do what he wants with his life. You should be supporting him, not hindering him! I don't think your wife would have wanted her son wasting away all of his potential on just hunting. Sam can do so much good for the world and you're standing in his way. If you know what's good for you, you either change your attitude or you stay away from him. Do you hear me?"

He didn't say anything, still too shell-shocked. Disgusted, Rachel backed away from, him breathing harshly.

"And you know what," she began again, "While you're at it, why don't you stay away from my mother as well, you lying, two-faced scumbag!"

Finally satisfied that she'd said her piece, she went to leave the motel room and saw Sam and Dean hovering at the entrance. Sam's expression was full of wonder while Dean looked like he wanted to strangle her. Lifting her head high, she pushed forward, snagging Sam's hand as she went. Unresisting, he fell in step with her. Their progress to the car was halted when a large hand fell upon her shoulder. She looked over it into Dean's fiery eyes.

"Where do you think you're taking Sam?"

"Home."

His nostrils flared hostilely.

"He's already where he belongs."

With her free hand, she took tight hold of his fingers and twisted. He jerked and went down on one knee.

"Sam and I are going now Dean." She released his fingers and heard him hiss. "I'd rather not have to put my foot somewhere unfortunate if you do not cease and desist in trying to stop us."

Both he and Sam winced, knowing exactly what she was talking about. After a minute of no one doing anything, Rachel looked away from Dean, tugging Sam along. Neither looked back as they got into her car, Sam tossing his duffel into the back seat. It was only once they'd driven far enough away that Rachel pulled over on the side of the road, not able to drive anymore because her eyes had become unfocused due to how watery they were. After a minute of sitting there, she finally allowed herself to succumb to her tears, throwing herself at Sam in the passenger seat apologizing over and over. With tears falling down his own cheeks, he held her as tightly as he could, burying his face in her hair as he tried and failed to convince her it wasn't her fault.

"Quinny?"

Quinn looked away from her homework, seeing her mom standing hesitantly at the door, her hand resting on the frame.

"Yes mom?"

"There's a boy on the phone. He says he'd like to speak to you."

"Who?" the girl asked, curious.

Usually people didn't call her home number. The only ones who did were the glee members.

"I think his name was Sam..." her mom answered uncertainly.

"Sam?" Quinn gasped, sitting up, "Here, hand me the phone."

Obediently, her mother did as she was asked. Quinn watched her go, slipping out as if she were never there. The minute she was gone, the blonde brought the phone to her ear.

"Hello? Sam?"

"Hi Quinn."

"Um, hi." She didn't know why, but talking to Sam on the phone made her a little nervous. "My mom said there was something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yeah." A long beat. "My dad kicked me out."

Closing her eyes, Quinn sighed. She should've known this was going to be an important conversation.

"I'm sorry," she told him, trying to convey all of the compassion she could muster for him. After all, she could totally relate. "Are you alright? Do you have somewhere to stay?"

"I'm at Rachel's. Her dads don't mind."

"That's good."

The old Quinn would have said something really rude about how a boy living under the same roof as Man-Hands and her faggy fathers was totally indecent. But she'd done a lot of growing up this past year. Rachel was a person. A good person who didn't deserve the shit she'd put her through. Fag was an ugly word. Kurt had become one of her best friends and she could never call him something like that, or anyone else either. And Sam was a decent guy, who would never take advantage of Rachel. He'd probably cause himself harm before ever letting anything happen to Rachel.

She idly wondered if any boy would ever love her that much.

"She told me to talk to someone. And well..."

"You called me because I'd understand." There was silence on his end. "It's alright Sam. I do."

The graduation ceremony was kind of boring. He'd been excited to be graduating, but Principal Figgins had the kind of voice that made it a snore fest. It was amazing he'd stayed awake long enough for his name to be called. When it was his turn to shake the short dark skinned man's hand and take his diploma, he heard an eruption of cheering coming from his personal cheering squad in the audience. It had warmed him immensely to see the entire glee club, Hiram, Leroy and Ms. Pillsbury there in the crowd for him. For a second, he imagined seeing his dad and Dean there too, looking proud of him, but he pushed it away. He didn't need to be thinking of that today. Today was his.

When the ceremony finally came to a close, he leapt to his feet and threw his cap up in the air along with the rest of his peers. All of them were glad they were finally done.

He got a lot of claps on the back and hugs as he made his way to where he knew Rachel had been. Once he spotted her with her dads, talking to someone, he made his way over.

"Sam!" she cried before jumping at him.

Catching her with ease, he gave her a light squeeze before letting her go.

"Hey Sam."

His eyes widened when he recognized the sound of that voice. Looking away from Rachel, he saw Jesse standing there, giving him a sheepish smile.

"I heard today was the day McKinley was having graduation," he rushed to explain, "School's already over at Carmel, so I figured I should stop by."

Jesse's nonchalant act wasn't fooling him one bit. Sam was glad to see him, it had been such a long time, but... He glanced down at Rachel. Was she okay seeing him like this?

To his surprise, Rachel looked just fine. In fact, she seemed happy to see the other boy. She caught Sam staring and chuckled.

"I might have called him and told him about it," she said, smiling coyly.

"When did you guys start talking again?" Sam asked.

"Not that long ago," Jesse replied, "Rachel just called me up out of the blue and suddenly forgave me."

"Really?"

"I got tired of being mad at Jesse. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have been able to see my mom until I was eighteen. Besides..." She reached out and took his and Jesse's hands. "I missed all of us being together."

"So didja miss me Winchester?" Jesse fluttered his eyelashes at him.

"As if."

"My heart!" Jesse cried, grasping his chest.

He didn't know how long they stood there and talked. Jesse started filling them in on what he'd been up to since he'd transfered back to Carmel. Apparently he'd gotten into UCLA on a full ride scholarship, a lot like he had. It was kind of funny how they were both going to be going to college in California. The other boy started talking about how they had to meet halfway every other weekend to hang out and have some drinks. Which got Rachel yelling at them about the evils of drinking and then demanding that Sam call, text and email her every day. Then she started talking a mile a minute about how Juilliard was a superior school choice to anywhere on the west coast. Sam allowed himself fall into the background of the conversation, simply enjoying seeing his best friends speaking to each other again after all of the craziness of the last couple of months.

It felt really good to just be there, together, with a brighter future ahead of all of them.

Part II: McKinley - End

AN1: Oh God finally. I was wondering when this arc would be done. This is such a long chapter... But I'm definitely feeling that, best one yet feeling. Fingers crossed! I admit, I am sad to see McKinley go. Some of the other gleeks might pop up in future arcs. I suggest listening to the song "Ghost of You" by My Chemical Romance and "Wheel in the Sky" by Journey while reading interlude two. After that, next arc will be the Sacrifice arc.

AN2: for anyone interested in what Rachel's prom dress looks like, look up Lea Michele's dress from when she attended Billboard's 5th Annual Women in Music Awards.

AN3: I've gone back an edited this chapter. Some grammar fixes. Most importantly, I added two scenes, a Sam and Artie convo scene as well as a Stanford acceptance letter reveal scene. Hope you like them.

Last Edited: 4-15-12