So sorry it's taken so long to upload this new chapter. It's been a busy summer - working, university reading and socialising - plus and insane amount of writer's block!

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I think I may have rushed the final few chapter but I hope you all like it :)

Chapter Eleven:

It Hurts

Luscious lips caressed his own. Soft, wet, berry flavoured lips massaged and smacked against his with loud sexy pops. Elicited moans and tiny, warm grunts were shared between them. Massaged lips on lips and licking tongues against one another drew out fluttered feelings and gripping motions within them. He especially felt himself grow with desire and his teeth nipped at her plump bottom lip; nibbling it between his white front teeth and dragging the slippery lip into his warm, waiting mouth. Both his lips then fondled her lip, sucking and nipping it before releasing it when his ears heard the satisfied moan from her throat. Cracking his eyes slowly open he saw the shining lip wink at him, before he pressed his hungry mouth back to hers. This time, his treasure was her tongue and without any warning, like a vacuum, he wrapped his own muscle around hers, like a cobra to its pray, and sucked on it in a painfully good single suction.

"Ow," she whispered but with a small giggle. Girlishly, she fluttered her eyelashes at him and a soft blush painted her cheeks. "I didn't know you were a lip vampire!" She giggled again but tried to swallow them down and away. Will grinned smugly at her and shrugged one shoulder; "I never thought I was," he admitted, still with his air of unnatural and unlike him arrogance. "I guess it's only your blood I want to taste." Still showing off those shining white, almost ivory, teeth he began to close his eyes and reattached his own lips to her soft, sweet smelling neck. At first they pressed little kisses to a certain spot, enticing a quiet pant from Rachel's mouth. His hands were around her small waist and his fingers rubbed, dug and tickled at her dress, trying to bury a hole with his fingertips and to feel the wanting skin and body underneath. Then Will opened his mouth a little more and scratched his teeth on her neck. Another pant came from her mouth but followed by a moan. As he began to suck hard on neck, painfully once more, she wrapped her hands around the side of his head and pulled him away, trying to be gentle but also trying to show she was serious through her small force.

Once his lips were detached from her neck, Rachel brought her eyes level with his. Where she looked at him with a delicate set of brown, his own eyes were dark and shining as bright as charcoal or slate. Although he wasn't quite frowning, there were creases in his forehead. Smiling softly at him, Rachel tucked a strand of hair around her ear and mumbled in that innocent girl way; "I think we should slow down." She gulped slightly as a deeper blush appeared on her cheeks. Now the crease in Will's forehead deepened and grew just as much as Rachel's blush. "What do you mean?" He asked, his tone almost sharp and demanding. Avoiding his stare, Rachel looked away and shrugged before biting her lower lip and saying; "I just think we should slow things down a bit." She then began to stumble on her words as she began to explain. "I…I just…I just think we should…or…or we can talk a little more? I like kissing you, I just think-"

"Then why slow down if you like it?" Harshly Will asked, his grip on Rachel's waist tightening. At this move Rachel frowned and looked down to his hand. His thumb was digging and poking into her and the pain was sharper than the sting she had felt on her lip or her neck. "I just think we should-"

"Don't think," he said, taking his other hand and putting it on her cheek. His thumb was pressing down on her cheekbone and his fingers gripping around the back of her neck. "Just do it." Like a leopard pouncing on its pray, Will slammed his lips on Rachel's only this time they were attacking her; tongue, lips, teeth, everything, like a wolf slathering on its kill.

Within seconds, Rachel was on her back with her dress being pulled up and her breath being taken away. "Will?" She asked, pushing his hands off of her thighs and trying to sit up. "Will wait, what are you doing?" Hovering over her, Will grinned down at her and licked his lips. His teeth were bared and his eyes were glaring into hers. "Come on Rachel, we both know where this is going." He told her, whispering and hushing into the glowing room. He then smacked his lips onto her neck and began kissing his way down to her collarbone, all the while his hand caressing her bent thighs and knees. Once Rachel had understood what was happening – having glanced at his trousers and listening to his warthog like grunts – Rachel's eyes grew wide. She shook her head, her hair haloing on the pillow it was slammed into, and tried to protest. "But wait," she cried, "I don't want to." Having heard her scared gasp as she realised what his intentions were, Will chuckled and shook his head slowly and daringly at her. He then took one of his hands off her thighs, held it up like he would to stop a horse, and lowered it to her most private area. Once his hand touched her pants, he grinned at her gasp and whispered; "Sure you do, Rachel" before beginning to rub her.

Gripping her fists together Rachel began to beat them against his chest but with little well endured force. "No, I don't," she begged, "Stop it!" She used her elbows to try and push herself up but he was keeping her grounded. She watched in horror, eyes widening and jaw clenching, as Will skilfully removed his belt from his pants and began to undo the button, finally pulling down the zipper. "Come on Rach, it was consensual last time so it should be this time." Finally his underpants were revealed and Rachel's eyes filled with tears. She didn't want this and she had to let him know she didn't. His reasoning was completely wrong and false. Just because it was somewhat consensual last time, didn't mean this time it was.

Sniffling, Rachel shook her head and pressed her palms up against Will, this time hoping her whole hand would get him off her. "It doesn't work that way, Will. Please I don't-"

"Put that mouth of yours to good use!" Will ordered and he once again struck his mouth with hers. Shoving his tongue into her mouth, he began to pull the girl's pants down her legs. She struggled and tried to keep him doing it, muffling; "Will, stop it!" But he ignored her. He had successfully removed Rachel's pants and was now making work on getting rid of his own.

"You may not have liked it last time because it was your first time" he had freed himself with one hand and now he was lining himself up with Rachel. Before he thrust himself inside her, he looked down at her whimpering face and caressed it with the hand that had been holding her down to the bed. He chuckled as he felt a tear fall onto his finger and brought his face closer to her lips. "But maybe because it was too slow." As he kissed her he pushed himself into her and drowned in her screaming for him to stop.

Above her, he thrust as deep and as hard as he could; grunting and moaning, gasping and hissing. All the while Rachel was crying and begging for him to stop with a string of, "No", "Please" and "Stop." The dark eyed man was holding himself above her and beaming with pleasure. "Do you like it a little rougher, Rachel?" He asked her, panting and feeling the sweat fall from his forehead and the slick sweat of his body. Still powerless to stop him, Rachel cried out with her begs, "No!" and "Please!" but Will just managed to laugh. He thrust himself into her more, smacking and clapping himself against all of her spots. Continuing to talk to her, he carried on working himself up into a frenzy. He panted with a great smile plastered on his lips. "Was it too slow and romantic for you last time?" As an answer, Rachel whimpered and allowed the tears to fall down her cheeks. "Please, Will. Please stop it." She urged, the pain inside of her growing to a burning explosion. She couldn't feel anything else but the pain and wanted it to stop. She wanted to know why this kind and caring man was doing this to her but the only words she could form were words of begging. Above her, however, Will continued to ignore her. His orgasm was approaching and he had closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly. "Oh Rachel, you have no idea how good you make me feel!" His hips moved faster and he thrust himself as deep as he could. Rachel was screaming on the inside and tried to make him stop with her cries; "Please stop it! Stop!" Shaking his head, Will managed to pant out her name. He moaned and groaned as the pleasure within him began to become overwhelming; "Oh Rachel! Oh Rachel!-"

"Rachel!"

In a cold sweat, Will suddenly shot up in his bed and shouted at the top of his lungs an inaudible noise; a frightened scream projected all around his dark and empty room. A ferocious growl was ripped from his throat as he tried to verbally force the nightmare from his mind. Why was he dreaming this? Why would he be dreaming of one of the worst things in the world? Wasn't the guilt of the reality enough for him? In his head he could hear her screams. In his dream she had been screaming and begging for him to stop. Her little hands were pushing against his chest, trying to get him off of her. They pushed against him and her nails dug into his flesh, ripping and scratching at him, hoping the pain would make him fling himself off and she could make an escape. But he never let go. He never stopped hurting her until it was too late. He just let her scream and suffer for his own selfish gains. Her screams were muffled and her cries were quiet, but he could still hear them now that his dream was over and he was awake. Holding his face in his hands, sat up in his bed and with his sheet tangled around him, Will cried into his. His head shook and his fingers gripped into his scalp mumbling over and over; "I'm sorry Rachel. I'm so sorry Rachel." He knew that his dream wasn't real. It wasn't real. His chest wasn't decorated with scratches from Rachel's nails, neither were his sheets tinted with the aroma of Rachel's perfume. The walls of his bedroom weren't echoing with her pleas and cries. Her whimpering was not buried within the pillows and her tears were not dried into the mattress. In this room, on his bed, he wasn't about to force himself onto Rachel or take advantage of her yet again. The fact was it was real. He had done before and it just kept haunting him.

After what felt like hours of pitiful crying, Will lifted his head and took a deep breath through his blocked nose and then took himself to the bathroom. He turned the light on and welcomed the burn the brightness of it blinded him with. He thought the pain his eyes would suffer through for a mere moment was a good thing after the long, enduring pain he had made Rachel suffer through; in his dream and in the reality. His legs stumbled over to the sink and his hands gripped onto the basin. With harsh eyes, he looked at himself and felt himself growl even more. Sweat had protruded through his skin and now lay on his forehead and chest. The whites of his eyes were now pink/red and so were the lids. But he didn't care how tired or haggard he looked. When he looked at himself in his mirror, all he could see was the monster he felt he was. Even though he knew the Rachel in his dream wasn't real, he still felt he had violated her twice. He had hurt her and made her cry and his book, he was an evil man. Before all this had happened, he thought he was a good man. Sure he had made some mistakes, he was after all human, but he had always thought he was respectful to women and would rather die than hurt one intentionally.

As he stared at his reflection long enough, in the silence of his apartment in the dead of night, Will began to cry. Quietly the tears that fell became shuddering whimpers and his sweaty body was replaced by salty droplets. His emotions were weakening him and before he knew it he had crumbled to the floor of his cold bathroom and curled into himself. He cried on the tiles, begging for someone to make his guilt and pain shrivel up. Wrapping his arms around his torso, he cried into the floor and tried to make himself fall asleep. On the one hand he wanted to stay awake: torture himself with the echoes of Rachel's crying and screaming in his mind. But at the same time, maybe he would dream of hurting her again and wake up screaming, crying tears and trying to get some rest. Maybe the lack of sleep would be punishment enough. He needed to be punished somehow for what he did and maybe the lack of sleep or the torturous dreams he was having were enough. For now, he would sleep on the tiles and risk catching some cold related illness. Anything to keep him from feeling any sort of comfort: comfort was one of the last things he needed.

The next day, Will would find he wasn't the only one who hadn't slept well. For Rachel, she had woken up with stomach ache after stomach ache before she realised it was probably one continuous stomach ache. She'd had period cramps before – what girl hadn't – but these just felt terrible. The whole night she had been curled up into as tiny a ball as she could possibly make, squishing a toy monkey between her legs to try and relieve some of the pain. Another monkey was clenched under her arm, as tightly as her closed eyes. When she had arrived at school, having practically chugged her morning coffee like it was water, she knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate. Her stomach was still sore but it was the sickness that was still there that bothered her. Having been menstruating since she was twelve years old, she knew how to persevere though cramps and she never liked to take pain medication – an insane idea that even a headache pill could somehow affect her voice. The sickness, however, just felt strange. She didn't want to eat anything but knew she had to and so by lunch she had been snacking on fruit bars and oatmeal cookies. They were somewhat soothing but the pain was still annoying.

As well as the stomach ache, however, she was more concerned about her emotions. Sometimes as she walked down the halls or sat in class, she wished she had car wing mirrors attached to her. A cold chill would run through her body and she was sure someone was watching her. If her stomach cramps weren't distracting her, then the constant feeling that someone was watching her was. Every slam of a locker was like a gun shot. The metal echo would ring throughout her head and her heart would beat just as fast as if she had been on a mile long run. Her breaths would fail to calm her down whilst walking or standing, so multiple times Rachel would have to lean against something – a wall, a locker or a door – close her eyes, and try to regain control of her irritating body. Fully aware that everyone could be watching and judging her, wondering what was wrong with the school's diva. Hurrying down corridors and rushing through simple tasks – such as getting books or going to the bathroom – Rachel would constantly think someone was following her and her eyes were no longer filled with the eagerness to learn and gain the best grade she could for her senior year, but now filled with paranoid fear.

Quinn had sat with her in their last class of the day - as they usually did – and frowned at the way her best friend was fidgeting. It was math class and so neither of their favourite subjects. They were both more interested in the creative and thinking classes they took, rather than the pure rational ones; AP English, music, history and home economics. That day, Rachel's leg was jolting up and down and her hand holding her pen was shaking. It wasn't like Rachel to be this fidgety in class. Well, the only time she was bouncing up and down in her seat or shaking and unable to keep still, was if she was just bursting to tell the teacher the – more often than not – correct answer, or read out what masterpiece she had created in last night's homework. The blonde watched as Rachel tried to write the date in her math book as neatly as she could and was somewhat baffled at the crazy curving and wiggly waves. Her best friend's handwriting was usually impeccable. Where her own handwriting was probably typical or a natural born writer – lightning bolt jagged and proud letters on important words of information – Rachel's reflected a side to her when she was probably asleep. It was calm and subtle, taken care of and precise as if each word she was taking down and writing was a delicate drop of snow making its way onto the page. When Rachel sighed and ran her hand through her hair, Quinn leaned over and covered her pale one over Rachel's tan.

"Rach?" Calmly and quietly she spoke and waited for Rachel to turn her head to face her. The class had begun, but the teacher was busy scribbling away at the equations they were going to be tackling. He was muttering the numbers under his breath and far too distracted by his subject to care about the class talking. Usually Rachel and Quinn sat at the front of their classrooms and so never directly talked; they were more creative with their communications and instead of talking wrote on piece of paper and sent back and forth junior high styled notes. They even tried to come up with a Morse code but found that was not only difficult but annoying. The blonde squinted, thought written on her face, as she took in the sight of her best friend's face. Under her usually sparkling brown eyes were the classic purple bags and the grey shadows of a terrible night sleep. "Are you okay?" Raising her eyebrow she asked and then smiled as sympathetically as she could, knowing that Rachel was positively not okay.

Dramatically, in a way that can only be described as 'Rachel', her brunette friend shook her head and sighed. Her face scrunched up in that wrinkled way that showed not only she was tired but that she wasn't well. Her hand slid from the table and cupped and cradled her stomach. "I didn't sleep that well," she muttered, liking her lips and looked up at Quinn, who still stared at her with sympathy but also concern. "And I don't feel so good either." Sighing again she began to rub her stomach and rest her tired, heavy head on her palm. Quinn leaned over, nibbling on her lower lip and knitting her eyebrows together. She'd of course seen Rachel throughout the day but her best friend was looking a lot paler now. She thought it must have been because it was the end of the long, droning school day, but it still worried her a little. Her face had a funny looking glow to it as well as being a little ghost like. Reaching out her hand, the blonde felt the tired girl's head and her frown deepened. "You're a little warm, Rachel," she told her and then she proceeded to feel her cheeks too and found them to be just as warm. "Yeah you're kind of feverish. Maybe you should go to the nurse?" In front of her she watched as Rachel shrugged and closed her eyes. "No," she replied with a subtle shake of her tired, warm head. "I'll be okay. It's only one more hour and I can go home and snuggled up in bed with a water bottle listening to 'Funny Girl'." At the end of possibly the longest sentence she had said all day, she opened her eyes and sent her friend a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I'll be okay." With that thin reassurance, Quinn smiled at her but then smirked, her eyes narrowing at her in a playful way that almost resembled the way she used to look at her – back when they weren't friends. "You better be Berry, what with our redo at the completion coming up!" Then she just as playfully punched Rachel lightly on her bicep in the way the football players did.

The move made Rachel jolt a little and she felt her stomach pain increase dramatically. She leaned forward and held her lower stomach again, but found no matter how much pressure she put on it or took off it – something she usually did when she had a stomach ache – the pain wouldn't go. Instead of feeling sick and dizzy, she just felt pain. However, Quinn was giggling to herself and the class was really starting now. Their teacher had turned around and was now giving them instructions on how to complete their task. Rachel, for once, didn't actually care about the class. Even though she usually didn't care about her boring subjects, she still paid attention and tried to talk herself into looking at the bigger picture with what she was learning. But in that class, she couldn't work herself up to give her the pep talk of "If you get a good grade in this class, then it is one step nearer to New York and Broadway!" As the silence of the class went on, Rachel wished more than anything that she had taken Quinn's advice and gone to the nurse.

At the dinner table that night, it was Leroy and Hiram's turn to question Rachel's behaviour. The two men had noticed it as soon as they had gotten home. It must have been parental intuition or something of that sort because when they had both gotten home, one after the other, they had gone up to their daughter's bedroom and asked her tentatively if she was okay. Both had brought her tea and kissed her on the head, leaving to allow her to get back to her homework. The air had been a little tense as they all sat around their dinner table. Rachel had been pushing back her vegetables and had barely touched her salmon. At first the men thought she was reverting back to her vegan days, but she had commented on saving her ice cream for later. They usually had ice cream or frozen yoghurt for dessert and both her parents had seen her love for the frozen treats. In that case, they had telepathically agreed, there had to be something else wrong with her. Either she was upset or ill and neither one of those options were going to be around for long. Especially with what had happened to her barely two months ago. They wouldn't let anything bad happen to her ever again, starting with whatever was making her look and act so miserable.

Clearing his throat, Leroy put down his cutlery and leaned across the small table to take hold of his daughter's hand. "Rachel, are you feeling okay?" He asked, his deep voice trying to go an octave higher to sound more sympathetic and more caring. He knew he did sound both of those things, but there was something in a person's light tone that made them sound more so. Looking up at her dad, Rachel shrugged her shoulders and replied; "Sort of." Leroy frowned at her answer and looked at his husband, thinking he would be able to translate for him. Unfortunately, like a lot of dads, Hiram didn't know what his daughter's reply meant so he echoed her comment, "Sort of?" hoping for a better explanation. Rachel put down her fork and looked at her daddy with sad eyes. "Yeah I…I just have a bit of a stomach ache."

"You do look a little pale." Leroy said, frowning and beginning to get up. Rachel knew what was coming. Her father was a doctor after all. He got up and walked the two strides it was to get to her. "I'll be okay." She told her crouched down dad, who was now repeating the same sort of 'checks' that Quinn had done. "Of course you will, but maybe you should just go to bed sweetheart." He told her, having felt her clammy forehead and hot cheeks. He stood back up with a slight groan. Looking back at her dinner, Rachel nodded her head. "I think I will, I do feel a little dizzy." She admitted and began to take herself off to her room. Before she left the dining room however, Hiram asked; "Do you want to take your dinner upstairs?"

Even though his daughter was clearly not well, he still thought she should try and have some food inside of her. Even if she vomited later on, in his own experience it was better to have something inside to come out rather than just dry heaving. "Yeah, I'll finish up there later." She told them, even though she had no plans to continue the dinner. Smiling softly she thanked her fathers but once again she was stopped by another comment. This time it was Leroy, using his special 'doctor' voice. "Rachel, if you don't feel better tomorrow please take the day off." Her dad was only looking out for her, but he knew how much she hated missing school. Rolling her eyes at him, she smiled and made her way out of the room calling back; "I'll be fine. Honestly."

As she practically crawled her way up the stairs, Rachel found that familiar feeling of a period come on. Every girl knew when she was menstruating. They could sense and feel it coming. With every step she took, she could feel the blood seep out and trickle down her. Shaking her still exhausted head, she gave herself a small smile and a whispered; "At least that explains why I haven't been feeling well." In her room she took off her clothes with a relieved sigh and laid her pyjamas out on the top of her bed, smoothing the comforter with a longing look. Starting with a hot, steaming shower she was now ready to simply relax. Her muscles and stomach needed it. In the bathroom, however, she was startled at just how much blood there was collected in her pants. Apart from when she just started her periods, like probably every girl, she'd never really had a heavy flow. Looking at her panties as intently as she did, Rachel began to feel dizzy again. The sight of how much blood was there was stunned her and she felt herself shiver again. Of course it was probably natural that she could have a heavy one every now and again, but it was startling. Turning towards the sink, she put the stained and probably ruined garment under a hot flow from the tap and watched as the residue of the blood drained away.

Under the steaming water, Rachel felt her shoulder and back muscles unwind. She washed her hair and relaxed as best as she could, sighing and tilting her head so that she could imagine she was some fabulous Grecian goddess under a waterfall. There was nothing more soothing than a hot shower after a long and tiring day of school, followed by comfy pyjamas and reading a good book or falling asleep to a classic movie. Unusually, she didn't sing in the shower. Where most people spent their shower time belting out songs and ballads, Rachel preferred to take the time relaxing and thinking. Her stomach pain was still there, having progressed throughout the dinner. Where she had a rule of not taking pain medication, for an irrational fear of it damaging her vocal chords, she was considering making an exception. She hadn't had period pain quite like this for a long time. The fact it was affecting her appetite as well as her concentration was concerning her. Still, as with most period pain, she would only have it for one day and then the next she would be back to her usual self.

Unfortunately, this plan of being back to normal hadn't quite gone as she had planned. She had woken up hot and sweaty and still uncomfortable. Still, even though she had promised her fathers that she would rest if she wasn't better, she knew that was out of the question. That lunch time she was going to show her team mates her song that should secure them a place in the next round of the completion. She couldn't just sleep all morning, go in for the song and then come home again. It wasn't in her to just skip most of the day. So, as she stood in front of her full length mirror, she gave herself another one of her infamous pep talks:

"Rachel," she said sternly as she smoothed down her outfit. "You are fine. Yes you may be a little pale and your stomach may be in huge knots, but that is no excuse to miss school. You will not ruin your perfect record attendance any more than you have already." Sharply, she breathed through her nose as she felt a spitfire of pain shoot through her. Her hands splayed against her stomach and she held herself tightly. "This is just period pain," she told herself; strangled and straining tone giving away her true pain. "By the time you've performed for the Glee Club, you'll be fine. Besides," she straightened herself as she prepared to leave her home for school, "It's the weekend soon. You can rest then." Within ten minutes, she had grabbed her backpack, kissed her fathers goodbye and was on the road, ready to wow her friends and teammates.

Will was no better.

The stressed out teacher had yet another nightmare about Rachel. It wasn't as intense as his previous nightmare, but he still woke up with the atrociously large amount of guilt weighing on him. For a second night he had punished himself by sleeping on the cold bathroom floor. His back ached and his neck felt like it had been twisted and bent by Houdini himself. Groaning, he stretched and tried to pop and pull at the painful muscles. His legs were stiff and rigid, the only other time he had felt his entire body be this sore and mangled was when he had woken up in the supply closet with Rachel. Yet another punishment he would give himself. Once he had stood up and gripped onto the sink, he moaned at his appearance. He hadn't shaved for two days and now he was starting to resemble a very broken man. His face was positively grey; sunken and almost corpse like. His eyes were dark and bloodshot and his hair was untameable. Yet he didn't care. If he looked like a homeless man, then he did. Feeling once again unworthy of looking like a human being, he simply staggered into his bedroom and dressed himself. At least his clothes were clean. Finally was ready to leave, having drowned a huge cup of black coffee – that, along with everything else in his kitchen – was running out of – and picked a slice of stale bread out of his bread bin.

As tired as he was, he was still able to drive pretty normally; checking for pedestrians and cyclists, making sure he didn't run through red lights and checking in all his mirrors. The only difference was his attitude. Normally he never gave into road rage, yet he was so tired and actually running late, he couldn't care less about his swearing, flashing lights, long toots of his car horn or slamming harshly on his breaks. He didn't care if some of his "Move out of the way asshole!" or "You call that driving? I call it being a douchebag!" or "Can't you see I'm late for work you shithead?!" were possibly directed at students. He just wasn't in the mood for anything. All he cared about was getting to work. Once he got there, he would only care about eating a crappy lunch from the cafeteria and once that was over, he would only care about getting home and cracking open a beer. A regular Friday night on a Thursday: beer and pretending to watch something on his television. He didn't care if he would be hung over the next day; the headache and dry mouth would be another punishment.

Yet once both he and Rachel got into school and started their days, they didn't know just how different it would be for them than what they were expecting.

Wandering into class, Rachel spotted Quinn straight away in the front row right in the middle: just where they always sat in English. Her blonde best friend was scribbling down notes (either for an essay or a story, Rachel didn't know) and so Rachel tried not to disturb her. She knew that when her friend was in a writing mood, she had to be left to pop her own bubble instead of having someone else do it for it. But as she did sit down, the brunette made a groan and a heavy sigh. The sound not only popped Quinn's bubble but burst and shattered it completely. Her best friend looked up and snapped her private notebook closed. Just as the same as the previous day Quinn's eyebrows knitted closely together and a worried hand landed on Rachel's shoulder.

"Are you okay?" She asked, a lot more startled than concerned than before. Again Rachel nodded her head and told her that her stomach ache still had not gone. Quinn rolled her eyes at her best friend but continued to comfort her by squeezing her shoulder. "You seriously need to get over this fear about taking pain medication," she told her, trying to not have such a strong and stern voice. "If you're in pain then you should do something about it. Humans have been medicating themselves for centuries and now we actually have the means to do it by not accidentally killing ourselves."

"I'm not worried about killing myself, Quinn, I'm worried about killing my singing voice."

"Well your health should take priority over your singing voice." Quinn scoffed, shaking her head at how ridiculous her friend was being. "Quinn," Rachel near enough growled as she turned herself to face her friend. "I am not jeopardising my future as a Broadway star by taking something that could seriously harm my voice!"

"Rachel you are as a pale and as grey as the New York skyline, will you please just take something?"

"No Quinn, it's just period pain. I'll get over it."

"Wait," Quinn said, her eyebrows knitting together once more. "Period pain? I thought you already had your period?" Rachel shook her head, turning herself to face the front of the classroom, seeing as their teacher had walked in. "No it was late."

"But your periods are never late? We have them near enough at the same time. That's why Santana called us that ridiculous name 'Period Pals'."

"Yeah well, she and Brittany are 'Menstrual Mates'!" Rachel joked back, smiling quickly at Quinn before rubbing her lower abdomen again. The blonde laughed and agreed with the nickname, storing it in the back of her mind to use against the two other best friends. But all jokes aside, Quinn gave Rachel one last concerned look and said; "Will you please at least take it easy today? Especially when you're singing your song at lunch?" Turning one last final time for that class, Rachel nodded her head and sent her kind and caring best friend a soft smile.

Stomping feet made a thunderous noise down the hallways. Will had been charging like an entire heard of rhino all day. Now it was lunch time, he had barged his way to the front of the queue and grabbed the last turkey salad sandwich and chocolate chip cookie, much to the displeasure of a poor freshman poor. All day he had been shouting at his students and making them question his attitude. Football players he usually ignored got stern telling offs as they dropped litter or threw their footballs around. At one point, he slammed his fist into a locker and snarled at them to quit being so childish and get to class. Now he was making his way to Glee Club rehearsal and he was trying as hard as he could to hold his rage together. His one cup of coffee that morning was not enough to keep him awake and so at every opportunity he got he was throwing it down his throat. Feeling the burn wake him up just as much as the caffeine itself.

Just as he was about to enter the choir room, fifth cup of coffee in hand, he heard his name being called. "Will!" Sighing (which sounding more like an irritable groan than a tired release of breath) he turned around and saw Emma Pilsbury. She was possibly the sweetest woman in the school. Ginger hair perfectly groomed and adorable yet quirky clothes all neatly pressed. Her huge bush baby eyes smiled at him and for a moment he couldn't feel his guilt, anger or fatigue. One look from her could melt all negative feelings. Once upon a time he had feelings for this woman. She was everything a guy could want; sweet, sensitive, caring and a little cookie! But now they were just friends. They had tried to date when his divorce came through, but they decided they were better as friends. Right now he was glad they were just friends, although he was a little worried that his temper could flare up if she stayed around for much longer. Clenching his jaw, he tried to smile at her as she spoke.

"Will, hi! How are you? I just wanted to check you were okay. You're looking a little tired." She then gave him that look that just screamed pity. He sighed and wanted nothing more than to just spill his heart and mind out to her. After all, she was the school's guidance counsellor; she could probably offer him some advice. However, he couldn't. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't just tell her all of his problems. And he was so tired and frustrated at everything, he let out another sigh and told her; "Look I can't talk right now, Emma." And with that, he stomped his foot and walked into the choir room, leaving his friend and colleague almost completely stunned. Still, she expected a similar reaction when she decided to ask him how he was. Nodding to herself, and smoothing down her outfit once more, Emma turned around walked back the way she came to go to her office.

Inside the room, Rachel and Quinn were sat at the front and the rest of the Glee Club were sat behind them on the bleachers. As usual, Santana and Brittany sat as closely as humanly possible without actually sitting on each other's laps, whispering and talking with soft smiles and big eyes. Finn, Puck and Sam all sat together talking, close to Mike and Artie who were also talking. Mercedes, Tina, Kurt and Blaine sat together gossiping as usual as well. But Will, of course, only had eyes for Rachel. And what his eyes were seeing concerned him. The brunette was doubled over clutching her stomach and had Quinn stroking her back. As he stepped more into the room – the teenagers quietening their conversations – he looked at Rachel with a deeper stare.

"Rachel?" He asked softly, "Are you okay?" The small brunette lifted her head and gave her teacher a pained smile. "Yes I'm okay," she told him, and then started to get out of her chair to make her way to the front of the class. "In fact, I'm okay enough to show you all-" But she was stopped by her best friend tugging on her shirt. "Rachel, don't be ridiculous!" She scolded her best friend and tried to get her to sit back down. Rachel protested and continued to make her way to the front of the class. "Rachel please," Quinn then looked to her teacher. "Mr Schuster, Rachel clearly isn't well. Can we postpone this unveiling for another time?"

"Quinn as much as I love you for your care and concern, I am fine." However much she tried to convince Quinn – and everyone else in the room – the wince on her face proved otherwise. Her hands gripped at her stomach and she could feel the sweat begin to collect under her hairline. "Rachel you are not fine!" Quinn shouted, standing up and stomping her foot. The rest of the room focused on the little scene in front of them. Brittany gripped onto Santana's pinky finger and moved herself even closer to her Latina best friend. The boys all nudged each other, jeering each other on to mentally bet on who would win this little spat. The girls, Kurt and Blaine also did the same, however Blaine less so than the others due to the fact he just wanted to hear the song so they could all give Rachel direction for once.

At the front of the classroom, Rachel narrowed her eyes at Quinn. "Quinn please, I told you that I'm fine-" But once again she was interrupted by the blonde. She pointed her pale finger at Rachel and stepped up to her. "And I told you Rachel that you are not fine. You can barely stand up, you're shaking and you can't keep focus."

"Not to mention how sweaty she looks!" Santana called from the back. Brittany looked at her best friend with a frown but Santana shook her head. "That's not an insult," she defended, "Look at her!" And the whole class did look. Rachel was now sweating profusely and her legs were indeed shaking. Put on the spot, Rachel began to shake her head but doing that she felt more and more dizzy. "Look, everyone I am fine and I would like to start…" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as another shot of pain rain through her. She sank on her knees a little and continued to shake her head. "Look I'm fine," but her voice was sounding weaker and weaker.

Seeing Rachel slowly collapse in on herself, Will put his coffee mug on the floor and went to support her. As soon as his fingertips took hold of her, he felt her burning up. "Rachel you're really warm. You've got a fever." He tried to get her to sit down but she resisted, claiming once again that she was okay. Then, just as she was about to shout at him and Quinn for overreacting, a final wave of pain ripped through her and cry blared from her throat. Wide eyed, Quinn ran to the other side of her and she and Will put her on the floor. "Rachel?" She cried out, putting Rachel at an angle so that her head was resting in her lap. Will crouched with her and tried to get her cooler by pathetically fanning her. Now, however, she was shivering in Quinn's arms. "It hurts!" The brunette cried out, tears finally falling from her eyes. Will was immediately sent back to the night of their attack: Rachel crying out in pain, telling him that she was in pain and him doing nothing to stop it; powerless to stop the pain.

Within moments, the entire Glee Club were out of their seats and behaving like wild animals. The boys were shouting that Rachel was being overdramatic and that she should just have some water and sing the song, that way they could all get lunch. The girls were wondering what to do; each one whipping out a different kind of pain relief medication. Quinn was trying to console Rachel, wiping away her tears and saying that she would drive her home. Will was stuck still next to her. Unsure and unaware of what to do. He couldn't stop frowning at Rachel, wondering what was wrong. This was surely more than a stomach ache. At least a normal stomach ache. It wasn't until Santana gasped, stood up and shouted; "She's bleeding" did the chaos change. Now Quinn knew that this was more than just period pain and more than just a heavy period. Not caring about how her actions may have looked, the blonde moved Rachel so she was resting in their teacher's arms and then looked under her friend's skirt and saw that two streams of blood were seeping out from between Rachel's legs. Her worried eyes looked up to her teacher's and they both paled instantly.

"Mr Schuster," Quinn whispered in shock, "We need to get her to a hospital. Now."