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Chapter 21

The first thing I noticed was the smoke. Why was there smoke? I didn't know there would be so much smoke! And why couldn't I smell it?

Someone was grabbing my arms and holding me back. Their fingers were cutting into my skin and I couldn't get away. I struggled. I fought. I wanted to bite.

It hit me suddenly.

Lizzie.

"No!" I had to get to her. If they'd just get out of my way. They just needed to get out of my way. I could see her. "Santana! Help me! Santana!"

They wouldn't let me go. They wouldn't get out of my way.

"Rachel!"

Someone was screaming at me. Let me go! Let me go!

"Rachel!"

I needed Santana. She could save her. She was a doctor. She always knew what to do. "Santana!"

And then there it was… the reason for the smoke.

I screamed.

"Rachel, wake up!"

I opened my eyes suddenly.

It was a dream.

It was a dream. It was a dream…

"Rachel, baby…" Quinn was sitting up beside me. "Rach… talk to me. Please… You were screaming..." I tried to focus on her face. All of the blood had drained out of it and she looked terrified.

I opened my mouth to speak. To tell her something. Anything. I couldn't say anything though. I was afraid if I tried I would just start screaming. I clamped my mouth shut.

The door opened suddenly and we both turned to face it. "Mija, what is it?!" Santana rushed in.

Followed by Brittany, "What's wrong?"

And Judy, "Is she okay?!"

Noah ran in behind them. "What's wrong, Q?!"

I think Quinn was answering them but I wasn't sure because I felt the bile rise in my throat and jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before I vomited. I could hear them behind me but not what they were saying. I could only hear the content of my stomach hitting the water. I felt like I was never going to get it all out.

At some point, someone put a cool rag against my neck. I wasn't sure whom because I couldn't stop the retching.

"You're okay," Quinn whispered into my neck. "You're okay."

"Move," I heard Santana say.

I finally stopped and raised my head from the toilet; a little embarrassed that everyone was in here watching me vomit. "Could you guys…" I didn't have the fortitude to finish. I closed my eyes and put my forehead back against the cool porcelain as I felt another wave hit me.

"Out," Santana barked.

I heard movement, but didn't look up. Someone was rubbing my lower back.

"Rach," Quinn started. I was glad she was still in here, but surprised Santana hadn't made her leave. "Do you want some water?"

I tried to shake my head. "I think I'll be okay in a minute." I tried breathing evenly. It had worked in the past.

I could hear Santana humming. It meant she was thinking. "Bad dream?"

"I think so," Quinn answered.

They were both waiting for me. I finally nodded against lightly. "I haven't had it in a while." I wasn't lying. It was a familiar dream. The accident. Me not being able to stop the accident. Hands. Smoke. Screaming. Or a variation thereof.

"It?" Quinn asked.

We both ignored her. The truth was I hadn't had a dream like that since Quinn had come back into my life.

"Well, it's a lot to do deal with," Santana finally said. "Big changes. We talked about this." I noticed the hesitancy in her voice. She didn't want to say more than she thought she should.

I finally looked up at her. She was frowning. Quinn was watching us, obviously trying to figure out what she was talking about. It was easier to ignore her than Santana. "I don't think I can take that again. I don't want to be afraid to go to sleep."

Santana frowned harder. "You've been doing so good, Rach. It may have just been a one-time thing. I'm not sure…" She shook her head.

"I'm not sure either," I answered. "But it's not a chance I want to…" I could not go back there. I couldn't.

"Then we wait and see. We don't have much of a choice," She answered. "If it does happen again, you just get back on the meds. They'll even it out."

And there was the solution. Go back to the walking dead. "I can't be a zombie," I started.

"Okay," Quinn said, moving in between us. "What the hell are you two talking about?"

Santana caught my eye and I shook my head slightly - a movement that did not go unnoticed.

"No way," Quinn said.

Santana sighed. I tried shaking my head at her again, but she looked away from me. It wasn't that I didn't want Quinn to know. We were in a relationship. I loved her. She was the reason I could start moving on. Or moving forward. Something. We had gotten to a point where she was backing off in the protective department. Or at least… well, she'd never back off, but… she was getting better. She trusted that I could be okay. I closed my eyes and groaned softly.

"Night terrors," Santana finally told her. She sat down on the bathtub rim and put her elbows on her knees.

"Night terrors," Quinn repeated. She didn't seem to know what to say. "And what causes those?" She asked quietly.

Santana quirked her eyebrow. "What do you think?"

I scooted against the wall. "I haven't had one in months…" I didn't want to tell her that I thought I knew why. That I thought it was because of her that I didn't have them. What good would that do if I started having them again?

She was still standing. She seemed to make the connection anyway. I watched as the frown crossed her face. "This is because of…" She frowned harshly. "I shouldn't have…"

"No," I said. "This isn't your fault."

To my surprise, Santana nodded. "She's right. It isn't. It's a common reaction to stress. And it's been stressful lately. To be honest, I expected it." She told her. She was lying. I hoped that Quinn couldn't tell.

"I'm so sorry," Quinn said quietly.

I sighed. I was suddenly really tired. "Don't start apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong. Okay?"

She sat down on the floor across from Santana. "I won't go. I'm sorry I even…"

That woke me up. "Quinn Fabray, you most certainly will go. You told her you would. You will not break her heart." I scooted closer to her. I still felt a bit nauseous. "You need to go. She needs you."

She turned to look at me. "What do you mean?"

I smiled at her. "I can feel it. She needs you."

I could feel Santana rolling her eyes even if I couldn't see her. To her credit, she didn't say anything.

"Feel it?" Quinn asked. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm a little bit psychic. You know that." I tried to grin.

To say her face was skeptical was an understatement.

"Jesus," Santana muttered, causing us both to turn and look at her. "I assume you're better if you're extolling the virtues of your psychic ability." She stood up. "So I'm herding the rest of them back to bed." She smiled down at me. "You think you can sleep?"

I nodded.

She turned to Quinn. "Don't argue with her innate ability to 'feel' things. It will get you nowhere but frustrated." She winked at her.

Whatever, I pouted silently. I crossed my arms, ignoring her. "She's jealous," I whispered, as she left.

Quinn was still staring at me like she wasn't sure if I was telling her the truth or not.

So… okay, maybe I wasn't exactly what you would describe as 'psychic'. But I could read people. And Quinn needed to see Beth. I just wasn't sure…

"I'm not sure I can go with you, Quinn," I finally said. "I want to. I do. But with Shelby and…" I looked away. "I don't think I'm there. I would like to see Beth. I really would. I want you to see her. I know what it means to you. It's important to you. And therefore it's important to me. And I'm not kidding about the fact that she needs you."

She was watching me. Waiting for me to finish, I guessed. "How can you be so sure? That she needs me? What if…"

I shook my head, not allowing her to finish. "You get to stop second guessing everything in you life. You won't get this chance again. Please take it," I said quietly.

She stared at me for a long time. I flash-backed to our high school years. She would always do that. Stare. It was the only time she didn't break eye contact first. I'd always done it. It used to scare me because I felt as if she was trying to read my thoughts. My emotions. I wanted to do that now, but I knew I couldn't. She had to know I was serious.

"Okay," she finally whispered.

I nodded. "I think I want to go back to sleep," I finally said.

She nodded back. "That's a good idea," she answered, standing up and reaching for my hand. She moved to open the door.

"After I brush my teeth," I smiled softly.

She smiled back. "Better idea," she answered.

"Why don't we just get up?" Brittany finally asked me.

I'd definitely been tossing for a while now. There was no way she was getting any sleep. "I'm sorry," I said, sitting up. "I'm not trying to keep you awake."

She shrugged. "You're worried." She looked at the clock. "It's five. Why don't we go get a cup of tea or something and if you want to stay up, we'll stay up." She was already moving to get out of the bed.

It wasn't the first time I contemplated how fucking lucky I was. B valued her sleep. But she valued me more. "I could use something to drink." I finally answered.

She smiled at me. "Besides, Q's up. She probably needs us."

I didn't even bother questioning how she knew that. I just followed her.

Q was sitting at the bar, nursing a cup of something. She didn't seem surprised when we walked in. "She fell right back asleep. That's good, isn't it?" She didn't look up from her mug.

"Yeah," I answered. "It is." I sat down beside her, and watched Brittany move around the kitchen. "It's not your fault."

She did turn to look at me then. She frowned, but didn't say anything.

It was fascinating to watch her try to control her emotions. It must be painful being in her head sometimes. Guilt did funny things to some people. I didn't like the fact that I felt sorry for her. To be honest, she wouldn't have liked it either.

"So, I've got to go out of town next week," I announced to the room.

She quirked her eyebrow at me then. Though this was the first Britt had heard of it, she didn't even bother acknowledging it.

"Unfinished business with my old practice. I've been putting it off and stuff. But I can't really do that any longer. Course B can't go cause of the whole movie thing and well… you know if you want to or whatever… I hate flying alone," I finished lamely.

I was watching B. She was lightly biting the inside of her cheeks.

Quinn wasn't saying anything, so I continued. "You know that Rach will be fine with B and the parentals. I just figured…"

She finally nodded. "When did we become friends?" She smiled.

I shrugged. "Your assumptions make me want to rescind my invitation."

She smacked my arm. I had to pretend that didn't hurt. Cause it really fucking did. Strong ass bitch that she was. "I would love to accompany you to New York, Santana."

I rolled my eyes at her faux-sweet voice. Me and my good deeds...

Brittany swatted me with a dishtowel. "I'm gonna go lay down with Rach."

Q and I were both set to protest.

She shook her head at us. "Nope. She's cuddly. You know when she wakes up she'll be glad I'm in there." She handed me the tea. "I can't wait to tell her you two were hugging," she giggled, walking out.

"We weren't!" we both exclaimed.

"It's a figurative hug," she answered.

"Ugh," I moaned. "She's kinda right. It was a figurative hug. We gotta stop being so sappy."

Q was cutting her eyes at me. "You aren't gonna literally hug me, are you?"

"What the fuck, bimbo? Of course I'm not. Jesus."

She let out a dramatic breath like I told her she was getting out of jury duty or something.

"Though your over-dramatic relief kinda makes me want to."

She hopped up at that. "Rachel just fell asleep…"

I raised my eyebrow at her. "So?"

"So… so…" She was grinning as she backed up. "So… I don't wanna wake her up with my screaming."

I shook my head. "Smart ass." I grinned. "Rachel probably already knows we're gonna hug anyway."

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

"Cause she's a little bit psychic," I trilled, chucking the dishtowel at her.

I woke up to Brittany snuggled into my side. I smiled to myself and rolled over slowly to check the time without waking her. It was almost ten. I reached for my phone and noticed a text message from Santana. She'd sent it about twenty minutes ago.

Q and I couldn't sleep. She decided she needs to talk to Puck about Beth. So we went for walk on beach. I'm back up and stuff. And parentals took K and babe to breakfast. Q forgot phone. Love you and all that jazz.

I contemplated calling but just decided to send a text instead so that I didn't wake Brittany.

Just woke up. Brittany is still sleeping. Glad you're with them. Love you.

I moved out of the bed and went into the kitchen as quietly as possibly. Santana said I was incredibly loud to be so small but when I got out of the room, I turned and Brittany was still sleeping. Obviously my stealth had improved.

Also, made it all the way into the kitchen without waking B. Felt the need to brag.

My phone chimed a few seconds later.

She was probably pretending.

I ignored her and poured myself a cup of coffee. When my phone rang I jumped for it, afraid it would wake her even though I was on the other side of the house. It took a moment to realize it wasn't mine.

I followed the tone and found Quinn's phone lying beside the coffeemaker. I almost didn't pick it up but curiosity got the better of me.

My first thought – she'd already attached a picture to her name. I shook my head as it rang again. Before I knew what I was doing, I answered it.

"Hello."

"Quinn?"

She sounded so much like Quinn, I momentarily wondered if she was calling herself. Of course not… "Uh no. She isn't here. She forgot… she forgot her phone."

She held her breath and I was afraid she'd hung up. "Oh…" she finally said.

I realized she had no idea who I was. "Beth?" I asked.

"Uh yeah…" She didn't say anything else.

"This is Rachel," I said quietly. "I don't know what made me answer the phone." I also didn't know why I said that.

"Rachel Berry?" She asked.

Again I thought about how much she sounded like Quinn. Especially the old Quinn. The high school Quinn. I realized that she was the age Quinn was when I first met her. It caused a lump to form in my throat. "Yes. Rachel Berry," I told her. "I'm your…" I stopped suddenly. Your what? Sister? Stepmom? Weird person talking to you on the phone?

"…sort of sister," she supplied when I couldn't think of what to say.

"Sort of sister," I echoed. "So this is strange, I guess? You probably are wondering why I answered Quinn's phone?"

"She said you were friends now." She answered shyly.

"Yeah," I followed. I wasn't sure what I was expecting Quinn to tell her. How did you explain that?

"My mom has videos and stuff of you," she said softly. "Even when you were younger, you sounded like an angel singing. My mom sounds that way too."

I tried to ignore the uncertainty in her voice. "Do you sing?" I settled for.

"Sometimes." She hesitated. "But I don't sound like…" she trailed off.

She sounded sad and I could feel my heart breaking. She was just a child. Fifteen or two, children were children. "I'm a blunt person, Beth," I said. "It used to get me into trouble. I'd always say exactly what I was thinking and I think I offended more people than I helped."

"Okay?"

"You're wondering why I'm telling you this. Let me explain…" I sat down on the couch. I didn't even remember walking into the living room. "Your mother…" I paused. "Quinn is… she's not direct. She doesn't always say what she's thinking or feeling. She's trying really hard though. I'm proud of her for that. But it's hard for her to show emotion. She's getting better…" I sighed. "I'm not making any sense… Anyway... Quinn has a very telling voice. She's very good at not letting me… or anyone… see the emotion, but… you can hear it."

"What do you mean?" Beth asked me.

"I hear it. Right now. I think it may be hereditary." I let that sink in for a moment. "I know I'm prying and I probably shouldn't but… for whatever reason you and I are… connected, I guess? Let's go with connected. And you sound…" I took a breath. "You sound very sad, Beth. I'm asking if you would like to tell me why?"

She hesitated again. And again I was afraid she'd hung up. I heard her exhale finally and though it killed me, I waited for her to speak.

"Was it hard seeing Shelby?"

It wasn't the question I was expecting. I assumed she meant when I was a teenager. I hadn't seen her since. "At first it was exciting," I said honestly. "But then I realized that…" I didn't finish. "Shelby and Quinn aren't the same person, Beth. Your mother… Your birth mother… she's complicated, but… she loves you."

"How do you know that?"

"I assume you know what happened to my daughter?"

"Yes. I'm sorry for…"

I cut her off. "You don't have to apologize," I whispered, realizing she shared another trait with her mother. "I just… I know a mother's love. Even though she's gone, I still love her. It's the same with Quinn. Even though she doesn't have you… she never stops thinking about you." I knew it was true even as I said it. Quinn rarely spoke of Beth. And Quinn hid the things she loved the most.

"So why did she give me up?" Her voice cracked at that.

Wow. I sighed. "She was young. She wanted what was best for you." It sounded trite even as I said it.

"How could she know I would be better off, Rachel?" She asked louder. "Don't answer that. She couldn't. She didn't know. She just took a chance. And it was…" She didn't finish.

"It was what?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered. "It didn't matter when I was a baby. Why would it matter now?"

"It matters to me," I stated. I said that before I really thought about it, but I realized that it really did. It mattered a lot. "It really matters to me. Is something going on, Beth? With your mom?"

I couldn't imagine what that something was. But I couldn't help but feeling there was something.

"My mom loves me."

"I don't doubt that for a second. I saw how happy she was with you."

"It's just…" she started.

Again I waited. I was mentally patting myself on the back for being able to hold back.

"When I figured out who Quinn was… at first…" She faltered. "…at first, I thought it would make Mom angry. I mean there was a reason she'd kept her name from me or something. But… it didn't… she just said 'maybe, you should meet her.' I didn't call for a week because I couldn't believe that was how she felt. The more I wanted to talk to Quinn, the more she supported it."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"My mom… she goes away a lot. I stay with my grandmother. She's got a new boyfriend. She's always got a new boyfriend. He's nice I guess. They usually are."

I stopped myself from asking what usually meant.

"She told me yesterday… 'I think it would be nice if Quinn comes. Maybe you could spend a few weeks with her.' I didn't tell her you were friends with Quinn. I think if I'd said that… she'd want to stay around."

I bit my tongue. I didn't want to say anything about Shelby that would have been untoward. "How long does she stay gone?" I didn't ask the rest of the questions I was thinking – where does she go? Why? What the heck was wrong with her?

"Usually she's gone for a week or two a month," she said. "She left this morning with Paul… that's her boyfriend. They went to Europe. He's a banker or something. Mom said Quinn could come see me. I told her Quinn needed to talk to her but she said… she said it was okay."

I rubbed my forehead, willing away the headache. "Where is your grandmother?"

"Downstairs."

I swallowed and took my time before speaking again. "I start a movie in a few weeks. It's the first time I've worked since Eliza passed away."

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I'm sure you probably don't wanna talk to me about all of this. I know…"

"Please," I interrupted. "Don't apologize. Quinn does the same thing. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm just saying that… we… I have guests," I realized who the guests actually were and stopped myself from telling her. "But they're leaving the day after tomorrow. Would it be okay if we came to see you Tuesday?"

"We?" She asked.

"Quinn and I? And possibly a few other people… friends of ours," I finished.

"You and Quinn are more than friends, aren't you?"

I sighed again. "I guess that's weird, huh?"

"Not really," she answered. "If it makes you happy… and her happy… I think it's good."

I smiled to myself. She was smart. And sweet. I realized again how much she was like Quinn. Quinn now, anyway. "I would love to meet you, Beth. Would that be okay with you?"

"I think I would like to meet you too, Rachel." She sounded less sad now.

"Would you like me to have Quinn call you when she returns?" I thought for a second. "Would you like my number as well?"

"Do you mind? I don't want to call you if you…"

"I wouldn't have offered if I minded, sweetie. I would love for you to call me." I gave her my number. "I'll tell her to call you when she gets back. We can finalize plans after we figure everything out."

"Okay," she answered. I noticed she sounded unsure.

"I promise we'll come. We may have to speak to your grandmother, but we'll be there." Even if Shelby wasn't there. Even if Shelby didn't care... Or even if she did.

"Okay," she said again. "Rachel?"

"Yes."

"You're easy to talk to. I'm glad you answered the phone."

I felt my stomach flip. No one but Quinn had made me feel that way since Eliza died. "I'm glad I did too, sweetie. And I'll promise I'll talk to you soon."

We said our good-byes and I promised again to have Quinn call her. I was right about being a little psychic. Beth needed Quinn. I knew that she did.

I laid my head against the back of the couch. I played and replayed the conversation in my head. I wish I knew what Shelby was thinking. Was Beth right?

When Quinn gave Beth up for adoption, I wasn't surprised. She'd been planning it the entire time she was pregnant. When I found out whom she'd given her to… I was… I didn't know what I was… surprised was the least of it. At first I was angry. It was just another slap in my face. Another way Quinn could hurt me… the final nail in the coffin kind of thing. Yet, we'd semi-bonded that summer after Beth was born. She'd tried to explain to me why she'd chosen Shelby.

It still hurt.

To think that I wasn't good enough for my own mother. Of course, Quinn Fabray's daughter would be though. It was easy to hate her. Hate Quinn. Even hate the baby. In the years that passed, I tried not to think about Shelby. Or about Beth. She was a symbol of why I wasn't good enough.

I felt sick thinking that now. She was just a child. And she hadn't asked for any of this. It had never crossed my mind that she wouldn't be happy. She had what I'd wanted. How could she not be happy?

It surprised me how much she was like Quinn. She sounded like her. She apologized like her. But more than that I realized how much she was like… well, me. The same insecurities. The same fears. I felt my heart break all over again thinking about it.

In the end, she was Quinn's daughter. And… just like Quinn couldn't explain why she loved my daughter… the one she'd never met… I couldn't explain it either. I wasn't sure what I was feeling. Conflicted for one. Sympathetic for another. But I knew what I had to do. What we had to do. It didn't matter what Shelby had, or hadn't done. What mattered was that Beth needed someone. And I wouldn't let her go without someone… I'd never let her feel the way I had felt at her age. She didn't deserve that. No one did.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there thinking about Beth. About what I was going to say to Shelby, if and when I spoke to her. About how I was going to explain all of this to the others. It must have been a while though because I didn't hear the door open behind me.

I was still clutching Quinn's phone when they walked in.