Ratings and disclaimers from Chapter One apply.
Regionals. And remember they're my Regionals—so just as AU as the rest of this story, including Rachel's relationship with Shelby, which also obviously strays from canon. We have a few clean-ups on aisle five's here and a foreshadowing of what's happening in the epilogues to this story. As you know, I'm taking them to age 20 and 25 when this story is finished. I think I'll probably have a snapshot of them at 30, as well. And of course I mean all four of them.
"So we're meeting on the DL because, Deryk?"
"Rachel said you'd bring me something to think about but maybe wouldn't want it to be public."
"Whatever. I'm here because it was the only way I could get the midge to shut the fuck up."
Deryk was completely terrified by Santana but equally sure the girl adored Rachel which was the only reason he had the nerve to talk to her, which he never had privately. The party had been one thing but he could feel sweat running down his back as he looked into her fierce brown eyes.
"Well, I know how that goes. I work with her, too. We just shovel coal—she's the engineer. So, anyway, let's hear it."
Santana shrugged, then grudgingly put her iPod in a docking station and played three original songs that were so completely right to him, musically and vocally, that he was blown away.
"You sequenced all this?"
"Yeah."
"I mean, I knew you could sing but you can play!"
"I've been playing the piano since I was three and you know—whatever—computers and keyboards can do a lot."
"You can't be serious hiding this. You're brilliant. These are already hits waiting to happen."
"Who knows. Maybe. But first I'm just getting the hell out of high school with Britts."
"Take me with you."
"To New York?"
"Wherever you go. Send me some files and I'll do some remixes. I'll show you I'm up to it. Seriously. Please. Please put me on the S-train."
That was so lame in expression she could barely believe it. But he was massively talented in his own right and she knew that, too. Rachel had nearly irritated her tits off talking about him. He looked so excited and hopeful and determined, she had no answer except, "Fine. I'm first and Britts is always going to be right by me but then there's the midge. She'll do Broadway but everybody needs a pop hit. For her, I'll write something like 'I love myself so much and you better fucking love me, too. Or else.' And then we could hit up Mercedes and Kurt if they don't piss me off too much in the meantime."
"You are a Golden God."
"Thanks, I guess. And you've been spending too much time with the hobbit."
"S-Ryk Productions."
"What?"
"S-Ryk. Sounds cool. I'll prove I can be your partner, I promise, but it already sounds cool."
She looked into his wildly happy light blue eyes and held out her hand, "S-Ryk, huh? Hi, Ryk, I'm S."
He shook her hand and smiled. Finally. He could see his whole future on the horizon. And he hadn't even needed his best shirt.
Rachel was reading history and Quinn was reading chemistry on the blonde's bed when Quinn exhaled, "Cleveland."
Rachel had felt exasperated an hour before but she finally shut her book, "Baby, you've said Cleveland approximately fourteen times in the past two hours."
"I don't want to spend the night in Cleveland."
"Why? Have you had some traumatic experience in Cleveland I don't know about?"
"We have to spend the night."
"As you said just a second ago. And that's bad…because?"
"Vocal Adrenaline?"
"Don't forget we're also performing against a group called Ear Candy. That's a name fairly difficult to forget—or believe, frankly."
Quinn wasn't looking any happier.
"What bothers you about Vocal Adrenaline, baby?"
"I'm going to sing a solo and I know Jesse St. Douchebag will be my competition. Which is sort of a done deal about who wins there, right?"
"Not as far as I'm concerned."
"That's nice of you to say but let's live in the real world."
"Quinn. Tell me what's really bothering you. Please."
"Jesse. I hate him and you know why. And it's not just the egg facial."
"Jesse means nothing to me."
"He's more talented than I am. And don't even bother to lie about that."
"In sheer musical talent, yes. He is. But music isn't just ability. It's feeling. You'll beat him."
"I won't."
"You won't unless you believe me. I believe me and I believe in you. You'll beat him and I'll be laughing. That can't be what this is about because you don't care about Glee competition all that much. And don't bother to lie and say you do."
Rachel waited for Quinn to speak and it seemed like an hour but was probably two minutes.
"Where's Beth if Shelby's out of town? It crushes Puck, too, if you don't know. He called me today and he was actually crying. Because what if she's in the same hotel as we are and we don't even know it?"
Rachel took a long time to say, "I could always ask Shelby if you want. She'll take my call and tell me the truth. After all, I am her daughter although I'm competing against her. There wouldn't be anything untoward in my asking if you want to know."
Rachel got out of the bed, even as Quinn said, "I'm sorry. Please. I'm sorry."
"Don't, Quinn. Just…don't. It's fair to think about your daughter because you're her mother. I don't have a mother but she'll answer if I ask a simple question that has nothing to do with our non-existent relationship. Not that I wouldn't go there if you needed me to. Emotional extortion isn't beneath me."
She grabbed her phone and the number was clearly speed-dialed.
After two seconds, she said, "Shelby?"
"Hello. Yes, it's Rachel and no. No problem. As you know, we'll all be in Cleveland on Saturday but I needed to inquire about Beth's whereabouts during our stay. Two of my teammates are particularly concerned as you might imagine and it's not fair for them not to know, considering the circumstances."
A long pause.
"Staying with her aunt for the night? And Beth knows her?"
A long pause.
"Four kids? That sounds great. I'm glad she already has little buddies. Thanks, Shelby. Take care and I'll see you on Saturday. Tell your team to break a leg—they'll need to."
Shelby obviously laughed because Rachel did, too.
"Bye."
"As you heard, Beth will be spending the night with her aunt Jane, who has four children who evidently fight to hold her and play with her. She won't be in Cleveland but she'll be fine."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not. It's nothing. I'm happy you care about your child. She's lucky she has two moms. I'm going to get some Vitamin Water for us. Proper hydration is essential!"
As Rachel left the room, Quinn felt like she'd somehow just punched a hole in Rachel's heart and said with vehemence, "Fuck!" to the empty room.
Court Date
"I have no idea why I have to be here."
"You're the injured party, baby-girl."
"Right. Yeah. Whatever."
She'd been prickly for days in a way that was quite unlike her but Eric and Jacob knew a bratty teen was better than a frightened or a sad teen and if that's how she needed to deal with it, so be it.
They met Judy and Quinn and Liam at the courthouse and were joined by their lawyer, John Samuel, who said, "It'll be quick. He'll plead out and we'll get going. Again, Rachel, if you want to give a victim's statement, you can."
"I'm no victim. I was a bystander to stupidity."
He'd met Rachel a few times and wasn't surprised by this. "The judge will ask you if you want to speak. Just a heads up."
She shrugged and gave him a lukewarm half-smile, "Thanks, Mr. Samuel, but I don't particularly care to."
Quinn only glanced across the aisle as they entered the room. A court case starring her sperm donor. A shockingly thinner sperm donor supported only by his lawyer. She wondered vaguely where Toni was for a second and then wasn't surprised at all, remembering Toni didn't play supporting roles. It was so weird that this was actually happening that she had to shake her head as Judge Mary Peterson acquainted them with the rules of the plea bargain. And had to listen to her sperm donor explain his actions through a mouth that was still wired shut, making his language strange yet still understandable, much like she'd decided he was himself.
"Judge Peterson, I had no premeditation in my action. I saw Ms. Berry and I was angry. I had been told she was in a gay relationship with my daughter and that is against my Christian beliefs. I just—snapped, I guess. I'm deeply sorry and ashamed that I hurt her. It's entirely my fault and whatever you think I should pay for it, I will. I truly know I deserve the maximum sentence you can give me."
Judge Peterson wasn't a person who played cool about cases of abuse. Neither was John Samuel. "Let's see what you did, Mr. Fabray. Look at the screen to your right."
She clicked her remote and flicked through three pictures of Rachel's livid swollen face taken at its worst.
"Ms. Berry, if you don't mind, will you stand up?"
Rachel stood.
"Russell Fabray, stand up."
He stood.
"Don't you move or I will have my officers teach you a lesson you evidently didn't learn when you were a child. Look at this tiny little girl. She's a child. You assaulted a little girl, Mr. Fabray. Sit down and thank you, Ms. Berry, for your forbearance."
John Samuel stood and said, "The only witness I'm calling is Dr. McNamara, her neurologist."
After he was sworn in, Samuel asked, "What were the possible repercussions of the blow to Ms. Berry's head."
"As it was, Rachel Berry suffered a concussion, profound whiplash to her neck and a serious temporal skull fracture. He broke her skull. Her skull. Don't just hear that word. Know what it means. The place where her brain rests. He broke her skull with his fist. I'm not being hyperbolic when I say if that hound—excuse me—Mr. Fabray, had hit her just the slightest bit harder, he would have irreparably damaged her or killed her. He punched a very small girl in nearly the worst place he could. I'm delighted she's healthy now but you should know it's only God's tender mercy that she is. It was a villainous punch for any person to take but particularly for a tiny female child and I don't care if you think I'm philosophizing about it. I'm one of the very best neurologists in the world and you can look that up and know something."
He pointed at Russell, "You, sir, deserve the most punishment this court can give you. Excuse my editorial comment, judge, and surely not to be stepping on your toes but it's true or I'm not Irish and I know I am."
"So noted. Thank you, doctor."
After Dr. McNamara had left the stand, Judge Peterson asked, "Ms. Berry, before I make my ruling, would you like to say anything?"
Rachel stood up. "Thank you, judge, but no. I've dealt with bullies and homophobic bigotry all my life. I don't feel the need to comment on Mr. Fabray's actions or his reasons for them because to do so would take more oxygen than I'm willing to waste on him. Legally and for the purposes of this court hearing, I understand I'm the victim of this crime. But I'm not and never will be anyone's victim." She smiled at the judge, "And since I just said more than no, I suppose I did have something to say. Thank you for offering me the opportunity."
The judge smiled as she said, "Thank you, Ms. Berry."
Quinn stood. "Judge Peterson?"
"You are?"
"Quinn Fabray. May I please say something?"
"And why should I allow you to?"
"I'm Russell Fabray's biological daughter and he attacked Rachel Berry because she's my girlfriend."
The judge looked at her for a very long moment. "Very well. I'll listen but know I'll cut you off if you're not on topic."
"Understood. I'm 16 years old, Judge Peterson. Everyone on this side of the aisle has a permanent restraining order against the accused. I made a horrible one-time mistake that was completely my fault when I was 15 and ended up pregnant. When Russell Fabray found out, he threw me out of our home. That's the sort of man he is. I had myself declared an emancipated minor when I was 15. I am actually sorry I disappointed him and my mother I don't blame either of them for that. I disappointed myself with my pregnancy but I carried my child to term and gave her up for adoption. I loved her enough to keep her safe in my body and I loved her enough to give her to someone who could provide the life she deserves. Point one. Point two? I'm not sorry I happen to be gay. I am gay and my sperm donor can't change that. I only wish so much that he'd hit me rather than Rachel. Russell Fabray is the sort of man who would throw a pregnant child on the street in the middle of winter, even when it caused me such suffering. I was thrown away like garbage, Judge Peterson. It took everything I had every day just to breathe and force myself to eat because I wouldn't have. I can sincerely promise you I wouldn't be here if I didn't honor the responsibility I owed the child growing inside me. I was exactly that depressed and hopeless. Russell Fabray is a man who didn't care if his daughter lived or died or if his daughter's child lived or died and he's someone who nearly killed another child only because I love her. I suppose, in summation, I just wanted step up as a character witness for dear old dad and to give you my opinion. Like Rachel Berry, I'm not a victim but I, too, have been victimized by Russell Fabray. Thank you for allowing me to speak."
This was said with such calculation, precision and so coldly that Peterson was struck nearly dumb. She nodded after a moment. "Thank you, Ms. Fabray."
"Mr. Fabray. Please stand."
He stood with his counsel.
"Looking at the child you assaulted and nearly killed, I wish I could do more than I can. Listening to your daughter, I wish I could do more than I can. However, the law is what it is. Because you have admittedly and grievously committed aggravated battery against a minor child at the risk of her life, I hereby sentence you to one year in prison. With good behavior, if you even know what that is, I predict you'll be out in four to five months. As you espouse such strong religious beliefs that they led you to attack a tiny girl, I would suggest you take that time to examine your soul. A version of religion that makes it more reasonable for you to abuse children than nurture them is lacking, Mr. Fabray. Seriously lacking. If you are indeed a Christian, can you imagine the Christ you profess to worship treating your daughter or Ms. Berry in the ways you have? Would He throw a child carrying a child out on the street in winter or batter another child? Somehow, given my reading and even the smallest bit of common sense, I think not. You need to look inside yourself and find the grace to truly repent, sir, because what you have done is not only a crime, it is a sin. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"How much longer will your jaw be wired closed?"
"Another month."
"Take note, sir. Take note because I'm showing you a kindness you've denied three children. I will make it a condition of your detention that you remain in solitary confinement until one month after your jaw is unwired. You have two months to heal. You need to concentrate on your nutrition because you're clearly malnourished and no one should be unable to eat solid food or at least speak up for himself in a potentially hostile incarceration environment. Not that you, notably, allowed your daughter, her unborn child or Ms. Berry that last privilege. That's grace, sir. If you believe in God, thank Him tonight for giving me the will to extend it to you."
She turned to the other side of the aisle. "Thank you very much, Ms. Berry and Ms. Fabray, for your bravery and your honesty. You're alive and healthy and thank goodness for that. I'm very impressed by you both. In my experience as a judge, having seen so many tragic cases where the facts were otherwise, simply having lived sometimes is almost unbelievable. Thank goodness or thank God, as you decide. Be happy for that, young ladies. I hope with all my heart you will consider this matter closed. Walk away and feel proud of yourselves. You deserve to. We're adjourned."
As everyone rose, Russell heard Quinn say, "Daddy? I think vegan Thai's in order." She wasn't talking to him.
Eric hugged her and said, "Me too, baby. You up for it, Judy?"
"Are you kidding? Movie night!"
Russell watched as Rachel and Jacob hugged his ex-wife. He was completely outside looking in on what used to be his life. Now he'd be inside looking out. He was smart enough to appreciate the irony of that. As he felt an officer cuff him, he nearly laughed. He didn't need handcuffs—he was emaciated and middle-aged with no fight left in him—but he almost appreciated the gesture that suggested he was still a man.
After hugging everyone and as the court dispersed, Liam made his way toward the bench before a warden stepped in front of him.
"Permission to approach the bench, ma'am?"
"Permission granted. Doug—I don't think he's going to shoot me. Let him talk."
Doug stepped aside.
Liam lowered his voice, "I don't know if you've noticed but it was glaringly obvious to me from the stand that you wear no wedding ring."
She almost laughed but smiled, instead, "I don't wear one for a reason. I'm not so secretly single. And at least fifteen years older that you are, doctor."
"Who can tell these days when you lasses are so lovely. I don't want to queer the case, so to speak, but when would it be reasonable for you to have dinner with me if you'd consider the offer?"
"Good question. Fabray pled out—I wouldn't have to recuse myself on sentencing. He asked for the max, deserved it and I gave it to him."
"And all that's fancy talk for you want to have dinner?"
"When?"
"You'll be surprised to know it but I eat every day of my life. My mam made me and I never broke the habit."
"Tonight?"
"I'll off duty. Your choice. I'll eat anything that's not moving."
"And is that supposed to dispose me more or less kindly toward you, Dr. McNamara?"
Liam looked at Doug. "And I'm not imagining she just said that?"
Doug shook his head.
"Consider me at your service, ma'am."
"Tonight. Give me your card."
Bus rides to Cleveland were about as fun as they were boring. And Rachel was completely beside herself.
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
"Nothing."
"You seem a little hyper. I wish you were doing the solo—you'd feel better."
"I don't care about that. I'm merely excited. Why don't we bowl on my iPad!"
"Oh my God. Lefty?"
Santana and Brittany were one row forward. "Yeah, Cap?"
"Rach wants to iPad bowl. Help a sistah out."
Santana stood up, "Trade up. At least I know you won't be trying to feel up my baby."
"Can't say the same about you, can I?"
"Whatever."
Brittany said, "Serious up. If you two make out, I totally want to watch."
The bus was suddenly silent for a few moments because everyone wondered about the four of them and this was real news from the front and on the fly.
Puck closed his eyes and it looked like there was a prayer involved.
"Mr. Schue, Ms. Pils? Close your ears for a sec. Fuck off, S."
"Day-dreaming again, baby-doll? Whatever, let me at my short-stack."
"I don't know why you won't bowl with me, Quinn."
"Because, Rachel my love, you always beat me and then you gloat so obnoxiously that I get mad and we're pissy with each other for an hour afterward."
"Oh. Well, yes. I suppose that is true."
"It's totes cool, anyway Rach. I'm sleepy and Q is the most snuggly nap-time person ever."
"Britts?"
"Sorry, San. But you know she is. We voted."
Because Santana and Brittany voted on any number of things, she might have acknowledged this if she weren't surrounded by a school bus full of kids who were clearly listening in. But she was. She snorted, looked around and said, "All the rest of you need a life that doesn't involve us."
"Word. Because who cares, right?" Lauren asked.
"Hold up. Was that a slam?"
"Take it however you like it. Hard boiled? Sunny side up?"
She didn't say anything more and that gave Santana what she knew she should consider a graceful out if she didn't want her ass beat down again in front of everyone. Or Britts to get involved. She decided a glare would be enough for her pride and then took a seat next to Rachel, who was holding her predictably pink iPad. "You go first, tiny-pants. I like you in those skinny jeans, by the way. Hot as hell, as you know."
"Hello?"
"Chill, Capitan. I'm petting the hobby in spirit only. Prepare to succumb to your better, Rachel Barbra."
"Thank you for your favorable comment on my jeans. And succumb?"
"Whatever. How about suck it, my little serenading succubus?"
"There's no need to get unruly, Santana, just because you know I'm about to bitch-slap you bowling. See? I can employ consonance, too."
"You know what? No. I won't even say it. Just bring it, shorty."
It was so quiet after their tiny skirmish that Rachel and Santana could hear Brittany say, "It's like lullaby and goodnight when they fight, isn't it? I like it. Can I rest on you. Q?"
Quinn lowered her voice but they could still hear, "Of course you can, Baby B."
"You have two Baby Bs now."
There was a long pause before they heard, "I do. But you were first. You're mine and always will be. She's not mine and never will be. Get some rest."
After a heated bowling tournament that Rachel won and nearly teleported out of her seat over, Santana stood and looked at Brittany and Quinn, who were sleeping nearly on top of each other. She took a picture with her phone and sat back in her seat. "I promise I'll beat you next time, bish, but lookie." She showed her the picture, "Two non-blondes looking at two perfect blondes."
Rachel sighed, "They're so pretty."
"And we corralled them so evs we're not exactly chopped liver either, hobbsy"
Rachel stamped her foot on the bus floor, "That was two unethical animal references in one sentence!"
"As my Cap would say? My work here is done."
Rachel glared at her, sulked for a few moments and then rested her head on Santana's shoulder.
Santana whispered, "I promise I'll beat you at bowling but I'd never hit you. Ever in my life. I'm sorry I even used that word. You know what I mean but it's still hurting me to even think about so I'm sorry."
Santana kissed the side of the girl's head and smiled when Rachel merely huffed her acknowledgement and, after just a few minutes, began to gently snore. Santana stared at the back of the bus seat in front of her, realizing she could write a book at this point. The Care and Feeding of Hobbits.
Damn.
"Cleveland!" Rachel said as she marched off the bus and as everyone followed her. What Will had wanted to say was gone. She was shorter but she was always larger.
"It's not New York, but it's certainly bigger than Lima! Game on, people! We here to win! I'm so proud of you and I love all of you and I know that nothing on Earth can stop us. Let's have fun and kick some ass!"
Everyone clapped and Will thought about the fact that Rachel wasn't really competing at all and yet was still as spirited and enthusiastic as if she were doing the solo, the duet and taking a major part of the group number. Mercedes and Kurt and Tina saw it, too.
Quinn passed by them and sang, very quietly, "You humble me, Lord?"
"Vocal Adrenaline is our competition, people! Ear Candy will be ludicrous."
"Like Ludacris?"
"No, Matt, in the sense they're nonsensical."
"Okay—but you know that because?"
"Their name tells me everything I need to know. The sched? Mercedes? If we win the toss, we go last."
"How 'bout first?"
"How 'bout I know what I'm doing. No questions. Go in and win it. We're last, co-captain."
"Got it."
And just like that, after two tosses, they'd won the chance to go last.
Ear Candy's guy was good. Predictable but good.
Jesse was insanely good, as anyone had known he would be.
And then it was time for Quinn.
Rachel stepped forward and kissed her so passionately that Puck was deliriously happy, as he imagined all right-thinking humans should be watching that.
"I'm so in love with you. You and Noah are going to kill it."
She kissed him with about the most heat a person could give a guy when she was just kissing him on the cheek.
"Okay—break it up!"
He picked up his guitar. "It's almost like she just kissed me on the cheek."
"I saw tongue!"
"You did not. Rach—is there a stop or a mute button on your woman?"
"I've never looked for one. I never want her to stop and I love hearing her."
He closed his eyes for a long moment, then opened them, "Okay, that was officially hot. Just need more details. Keep 'em comin'."
She ignored him and spoke to Quinn, "Are you nervous, baby?'"
"No…or sort of. Maybe. Does suddenly hating everything mean you're nervous?"
"For you, probably. Just shake it off. Three deep breaths, both of you." As they took their breaths because they saw that glint in Rachel's eye that meant there wasn't a choice, she said, "Get out there. I love you both so much and I'm so proud of you. I know Beth would be, too."
Judy, Eric and Jacob knew that Quinn was the soloist but they didn't know the song and were surprised that Puck followed her onstage where two chairs had been placed. The arrangement was so simple, it blistered them. He didn't look at her or she at him but she seemed to be singing to anyone, everyone and God. Rachel had never seen anyone project such raw and breathtaking broken sadness on the stage.
At the end of the song, Quinn patted Puck's leg and gave him a tiny smile as they stood and there was a long silence before everyone stood to applaud. Puck stood back and bowed to his child's mother.
Eric, Jacob and Judy were crying.
Rachel was, too. She'd looked around the room and saw it. Quinn had done it.
"Damn girl! You killed that!"
"Thanks, Mercedes."
Rachel wiped her eyes, "You did and now that we've won the solo competition, let's focus on duet!"
"Oh please. How do you know we won, Rachel?"
"I watched, Quinn. It was fantastic. Jesse's pyrotechnics were nothing comparatively. You reminded the audience what music and song are for. Emotion. I'm terrifically proud of you. And I must say, it's rather invigorating not to be performing and to be able to just watch."
She looked at the other people in the room, "Not that I intend to get used to that, mind you, but still. I'm very pleased. Tina and Mercedes. Is there anything I can do for you before I go assess the hell that will be Ear Candy and the predictably great Vocal Adrenaline?"
"Thanks, Rach, but I'm fine. You, Mercedes?"
"I'm good."
She pointed, "Fantastic! On the table over there you'll both find a mug of very warm water with a tiny bit of lemon and honey in it."
"You didn't give me any water and lemon and honey."
"I didn't, Quinn, because you weren't belting out a song that needs a throat completely uncloyed."
Quinn could see Rachel was in full-out captain mode and stepped away but watched with affection.
"Hell to the no. Are you saying my throat's cloyed?"
"Have you ingested any dairy today, Mercedes?"
"Milk with my cereal."
"Me, too," Tina admitted.
She spoke at nearly triple speed for her, "You're both undoubtedly more cloyed than you imagine. Go drink at least half of it and then take the rest and gargle it in the bathroom and spit it out. The point of the drink is to create saliva with the honey, cut any mucous with the lemon and warm and prep your vocal cords with the water. But not to create a burning need to urinate, hence the gargling."
Tina rolled her eyes even as Mercedes shot daggers at Rachel with her eyes but they dutifully trooped over to the table and grabbed their mugs of water.
Santana smirked, "You're playing fast and loose with the word cloy, hobbs. I think you're only just scraping through on the connotation front."
"As intended. It sounds disgusting, therefore I use it. I could do better, though. Would you prefer my importuning them over the dangers of a surfeit of phlegm?"
"Cloy all damn day."
"That's what I thought."
As Tina drank her water, she said very quietly, "She's even bossier when she's not singing than when she's singing. Who knew?"
Mercedes shrugged, "I think she's just nervous for us. I know she always wants to be the star but look at this stupid water she made for us. We never do stuff like that for her. And look at her little face."
Rachel was at wing of the stage watching the Ear Candy duet with a look of ferocious determination, as if she could make them flub it with only her eyes and intention.
Tina wrinkled her nose as she smiled, "She is sort of adorable."
"Don't let Quinn hear you say that."
"I know, right?"
After they'd done their drinking and gargling, they took their last bathroom break and make-up check, neither of them admitting to the other that they didn't want to even hear Vocal Adrenaline. As they crossed to the side of the room, closest to the stage Mike winked at Tina and crossed his fingers and everyone gave them a reassuring pat although no one said a word.
Except for Rachel. "Alright ladies! Chin up. Star face. You know your lines. They need you—you don't need them and everything's coming up roses!"
They stared at her. "You actually say that before you sing, don't you?"
"It never fails, Tina! What's tremendously exciting is that you're both going to knock Shelby Corcoran and Vocal Adrenaline right back on their bazoos!"
"Bazoos?"
They heard the announcement, "And now, Mercedes Jones and Tina Cohen-Chang from New Directions!"
Tina and Mercedes rocked it—so much so they gave Rachel chills and she was jumping up and down when they left the stage.
Everyone surrounded them and hugged them. Even as they celebrated, Rachel was saddened to think that everyone would have hugged Quinn if she didn't always keep that shield around her that said to almost everyone 'touch me not.'
Rachel barked out, "Ha ha! We won that one, too! I believe there's a thirty-minute intermission so that this venue can sell soda and completely unethical foodstuffs. Everyone change for our group number, then relax. We're going to win today. I can smell it in the air!"
Rachel was so excited even Quinn wasn't completely sure she wasn't on crack.
During the break, Will and Emma walked past Shelby, who pulled him by his tie into her personal space. "What's going on?"
"Hi, Shelby. You remember Emma?"
Shelby smiled, "Yes. I do. Hello Emma. What's going on?"
"Clarify a little, maybe?"
"Where's Rachel?"
"Backstage with the club getting ready for the group number."
"And she's not a soloist or in the duet because?"
"Our team has a deep bench, Shelby. Rachel herself pushed other members of the group forward."
"And that was even before the attack so it worked out perfectly."
Will cast a horrified look at Emma and she immediately wished that words were things she could wipe away with anti-bacterial gel.
"Attack? What attack?"
"Rachel is healthy now and she's fine and she's backstage—I just saw her two minutes ago."
"But she was attacked? By whom?"
"I'm not going to discuss it with you and you're not going to either. Not until a better place and time."
"She's my daughter!"
"She's your biological child, Shelby. Not your daughter."
Shelby marched past him toward the New Directions dressing room with he and Emma in hot pursuit.
Rachel heard the commotion first and Quinn, Santana, Brittany and Puck leapt to stand in front of her.
"Shelby? What are you doing here?"
"You were attacked? Attacked and no one told me?"
"Why should they? Please don't do this now. Our club needs to focus! I'll be happy to talk to you but not now."
"But that's just—that's—"
Puck stepped forward and got in the woman's face. "You know who I am, Ms. Corcoran. Rachel's dating Quinn, Ms. Corcoran. She got gay-bashed, Ms. Corcoran. She got her skull fractured, Ms. Corcoran. She's alive, Ms. Corcoran. I'd like for you to leave, Ms. Corcoran, because I think about Beth every hour of every day of my life and I know Quinn does, too. If you only care about Rachel when you can make some drama during a time that doesn't help her at all, leave the loving her to us because as sucky as we sometimes are, I know we'll do a better job than you have. Leave!"
Quinn wrapped her arms around him although she could see Rachel was shell-shocked and wanted to go to her instead. "Shhh, Noah. No, sweetie. Shhh."
This seemed to give Shelby some equilibrium. "I understand your anger and I'm really glad she has such loyal friends. It was just a surprise to hear she'd been hurt and I was concerned. That's all."
"Not so concerned you won't upset my club before a performance. You could put this performance on hold, couldn't you?"
"Are you serious, Rachel? Do you really think so little of me?"
Rachel's shoulders slumped. "No. Of course I don't, Shelby. I'll tell you what you want to know after this competition. But you've heard the salient points. I'm in a relationship with Quinn. Her father fractured my skull when he found out. I'm okay and surrounded by people who love me. No worries, Shelby. And I truly appreciate your concern. Let's leave it there. My club needs to relax and your club needs to get ready to get beaten."
She smiled at Shelby and moved around her self-appointed guards to hug her, "I'm sorry, but there is a beat-down incoming."
Shelby kissed her on the top of her head, "I love you, Rachel."
"Thank you."
"I'm sorry for the interjection of family drama into our break."
Sam said, "We're family. No biggie, right?" Everyone murmured their agreement.
"Rachel?"
"Kurt?"
He grabbed her by the hand and led her away from the others. "I have two wrapped packages I swore we wouldn't open until just before the group number."
"O…kay."
"From David."
"And as long as it's not Semtex or white powder, I suppose we're fine."
"I think I can guarantee that. Let's see what we have!"
They opened them at top speed and found the same gift. A Barbra Streisand Barbie with one leg placed in a tiny cast.
Rachel's note read, "The cast is easy to remove. Babs is fine. Break a leg. I'm sorry I can't be there. Your friend (I hope).
David
Kurt's note read, "You can take the cast off—it's easy. Break a leg and I'm sorry I can't be there cheering you on. I know you guys will kill it.
XO, K.
Dave
They read each other's cards and Rachel said, "This is possibly the best present in the history of mankind."
"I'm in complete agreement."
"I would date that boy if I didn't already have a girl."
Kurt blushed, "I think he really likes me."
Rachel kissed his warm cheek. "When someone butters up your friends? The Magic Eight Ball says, 'It is decidedly so.' I will continue to do recognizance. But 'Signs point to yes.'"
"Rachel?"
"Kurt?"
"I love you." He kissed her so gently and tenderly on the lips that her heart flopped about and did something it never had, because it was so unexpected.
"I love you, too, Kurt."
"Let's go pulverize Vocal Adrenaline!"
"Right? It's like boxing. Rope-a-dope!"
They did just that. And what was best was that they knew it even as they did it. And the other teams did, as well.
When they were named the winners, Rachel could only laugh as Brittany fiercely protected her as Finn put her on his shoulders and carried her to get the trophy.
She blew an air-kiss to Shelby, who laughed and smiled and made a call-me sign to Rachel that the girl acknowledged.
It was magical. And in the privacy of their dressing room, as every person in the club looked at her on Finn's shoulders with the trophy in her hands, so high above them all? She hadn't done anything but back-up for the group number but she was their captain. Their still-living, still-breathing captain.
"Rachel!"
"Matt! Shh! Everyone, if Matt want's to talk, and we know he never does, we need to listen."
Everyone laughed, and he did as well.
"I just wanted to say you're the only dream come true I ever met in my whole life and even if nobody else will admit it because they're stupid and just kids and don't want to say it, I know most of them feel it. Thanks, Rach."
"Thank you, Matthew."
Mercedes lifted her cup of Sprite. "To Rachel, our captain. This win's all yours, baby!"
Everyone lifted their cups and Rachel ran her hand through Finn's hair as she looked at them. Feeling love.
From everyone surrounding her. Finally. Love.
