A/N: I know last chapter was a bit of a bombshell and it might have turned a lot of you off from the story, but please just try to trust my journey and don't forget that this is a Faberry story so of course Rachel & Quinn are going to be messy, but they do love each other hard and a lot. I promise the next few chapters are going to be a whirlwind and as this story winds down in the next few weeks, all the loose ends will be tied up and you guys will have a very satisfying ending. I promise.

Next chapter (chapter 62) might not be up for a few days, depending on how much time I have to write when I get off work tomorrow. It is the biggest chapter of the entire story and a really emotional and action packed one, so it might take a bit longer for me to actually write it. It might be up tomorrow, it might be up the day after or the day after. Fingers crossed that it's up tomorrow because I'm really excited for you guys to read it.

And lastly, I usually like to comment back and talk to everyone who leaves me a comment because I really think of some of my readers as like my friends and I love to interact and get to know you. I know I've been slacking on that lately and I apologize, but I will reply to each and every single one of you eventually. I'm just writing like crazy right now to get to chapter 62.

Enjoy this chapter! It's kind of crazy!

December 8

I slept for sixteen hours today.

Me and Mercedes got home yesterday around 9:30 at night and Mom and Dad picked us up from the school. Really, all I wanted to do was put on my pajamas and lie in my bed as soon as we got home. I was tired and supposed to sleep on the five hour bus ride, but my mind was full thinking about Rachel and my stomach was empty because I didn't touch the sandwich I got at that place called Primanti Bros. that Mr. Schue took us to. My stomach was empty and my mind was full and even though I tried to sleep the entire ride home, I just couldn't fall asleep like that.

As soon as we walked through the door, Mom insisted that we eat what she made for dinner because she made it special for us. Even though I really didn't want to, I sat the kitchen table and listened while they talked. Mom stood at the stove, heating up the cheddar and broccoli soup she made and grilling turkey and cheese sandwiches on the griddle. It was 10:00 at night, yet I was sitting around the table eating soup and sandwiches with my family and for a minute, I was happy. I dipped my sandwich in my soup and laughed when Mom told us how much she was singing along to Aural Intensity's Hamilton songs. Everything was good for a minute. Everything inside of me was calm.

Mom told me and Mercedes to go up to bed while she cleaned the kitchen and as soon as I got up from the table, I remembered that I was sad again. I went up to my bedroom and put on a t-shirt. I had planned on taking a shower and washing all my stage makeup off and all the sweat from performing, but the thought of standing underneath the shower spray really exhausted me. I crawled into bed, pulled my blanket up to my neck, and closed my eyes.

But my mind wouldn't let me sleep. My mind kept telling me to think about Rachel and imagine that I was back in that performance room, watching her lips glide against Finn's. And I started crying. One of those cries you only ever see in the movies, too. The one where I'm curled up into a fetal position, clutching my pillow to my chest and just crying so hard no sounds come out.

I knew what would make me feel better.

Even though it's only temporary and only lasts for the five minutes that I'm doing it, I felt so down and miserable and worthless and terrible and meaningless that I just needed something — anything — to make me feel better for just one second. It might have only lasted five minutes but I needed that five minutes. That five minutes was better than the complete hopelessness that was starting to surround me.

I didn't even have to stick my fingers all the way in my mouth before my stomach wretched and all the soup and sandwich I ate splattered into the toilet. It kind of hurt a little bit when it was coming up, because the chewed up bread kept getting stuck. Bread is one of the worst things to throw up and if I planned on doing a purge, I probably wouldn't have eaten the sandwich in the first place. I got to a place where all I was throwing up was water, but my stomach still felt really heavy and full so I had to keep going. I started seeing these little black specks in my vision when I threw up the last time, so I just stopped and cleaned the toilet and wiped away the evidence and went to bed.

I felt really worthless again the second I laid back down, but there were those five glorious minutes where I didn't feel worthless. There were those five glorious minutes where I felt like there was finally something in my life that I could get control over again. Five glorious minutes where something else hurt instead of my heart.

I'm not sure how, but I managed to fall asleep that time. It was 11:30 when I finally fell asleep and I stayed that way; in one position, all night.

I might have slept longer than thirteen hours if Mom hadn't woken me up. She came into my room this morning and tapped me on my shoulder until my eyes snapped open. She told me it was 12:30 in the afternoon and she was just checking to see if I was okay. I told her I was fine, just a little tired and she asked me if I wanted to come to the store with her and Mercedes because they were going bra shopping.

I started to say no, but I didn't want Mom to think there's anything wrong with me because I don't want to tell her about Rachel. I'm not sure how she'd react, but I'm almost certain that she would stop liking Rachel so much and I don't know why, but that's still important to me. I still want Rachel to be liked by my family.

It took everything out of me to get up and get dressed. And when I was in the car as Mom was driving to the mall, I started to regret not just staying in bed. I don't remember what we did at the mall. I don't remember what stores we went inside of and I don't remember if Mom offered to buy me three new pairs of jeans or she just did it on her own free will. All I remember is sitting at the food court and devouring two big slices of pizza, a container of cheese fries and an entire large Mountain Dew. It's needless to say that I excused myself to the bathroom and got rid of it, and I think that might have been the extra boost I needed to make it through our time at the mall.

I thought about taking a shower when we got back home. I still needed to wash my stage makeup off and just generally bathe myself, but I still couldn't. I just took my bags of new clothes, went back up to my room, threw the bags in the corner and got back into bed. I fell asleep again.

Around five, Mom came back up to my room and was surprised that I was sleeping again. She woke me up a little more forcefully that time and asked me what the hell was wrong with me. She kept touching my forehead and rubbing my back trying to get me to admit that I wasn't feeling well, so I finally just went along with it. I told her that my head was hurting and I was starting to feel stuffy and she left me alone for a while. She came back maybe half an hour later with a plate of stuffed peppers and some headache medicine for me to take. She told me to get some rest and call her if I needed anything.

I got rid of the stuffed peppers right after I ate them and they burned when they came up, which kind of felt good. Again, it was like the pain was somewhere else instead of in my chest and I suddenly understood the people who cut themselves as their form of self harm. I laid back down with the intentions of taking another nap and I was able to fall asleep again.

When I woke up an hour later, I had this really bad taste in my mouth and my pillow was red right where my mouth was open and I drooled a little bit. Mom cooks her stuffed peppers in tomato sauce so at first, I thought maybe I had bits of tomato sauce stuck to the corners of my lips and that's where the red came from, but when I swallowed my throat burned really badly and I tasted that awful metallic taste. The taste of blood.

The blood didn't scare me as bad as it did that one day I was home alone and called Judy because I was so terrified. In fact, throwing up blood hasn't been that big of a deal since then. It's something that just happens from time to time, usually when my nails get so long that they scratch my throat when my fingers go in. All it means is that I have to clip my fingernails.

I forgot to mention that Rachel's been calling me, and I've lost four pounds since regionals. Not sure if it's the depression or if it's the fact that I've thrown up everything my lips have touched for 24 hours straight, but I'll take it either way.

Yay.

December 9

The scale says that I'm down seven pounds today. Seven pounds since regionals. Seven whole pounds. I forgot how addicting this could be.

I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed today. My alarm went off at 6:30 for school, and I just turned it off, rolled over, and went back to bed. Of course Mom came in to check on me and see why I wasn't getting up and getting dressed. I told her that my stomach was really sick and I couldn't move without my head pounding and she really bought into it. She bought into it so much that she rubbed my back, kissed my cheek and told me that I could stay home.

I've been in and out of sleep all day. At some point, I thought I had convinced myself to take a shower and brush my teeth because my stage makeup still needs to be washed off, I'm still gross from performing and my teeth haven't been properly brushed since my throat bled a little. But I tried to get up and again, I just felt no desire to go into the bathroom and even look at myself in the mirror, so I stayed in bed. I haven't even left to pee.

Mom says that if I don't feel better by Wednesday, she's going to make me an appointment to see the doctor and figure out what's going on with me. She said she thinks I have the stomach flu because she's noticed how I haven't been eating much and how I go to the bathroom immediately after I eat whenever I do eat.

I love living with the Joneses and I love my parents to death, but I really hate how much they hover. I wish they would just act like my other parents in some ways. I wish they would just leave me alone all day and let me do my own thing. I wish that I didn't have to turn on the faucet every time I throw up because I'm scared they'll catch me. I wish they would just turn a blind eye to me throwing up like Judy would. I wish they would just ignore the fact that I haven't gotten out of bed all day like Judy would. I wish Mom wouldn't come in here to check on me every hour like Judy wouldn't. I wish they would all just leave me alone.

Rachel called again today.

I didn't pick up the phone.

December 10

The only reason I got out of bed today was because I see Bailey and I really need to talk to her.

Mom asked me if I was going to school today when she came in to wake me up and at first, I told her that I still wasn't feeling well and I wanted to stay home again and she allowed me to. But then I remembered that it's Tuesday and I see Bailey on Tuesdays and I really need her right now, so I got out of bed, put on a pair of my new jeans and a sweater, and told Mom that I had a biology test that I couldn't miss.

I know it's not healthy for me to feel this way, but I've really just been trying to keep going these last few days for her. I really don't want to be alive anymore. I really just want to give up, lie down and let this darkness just come and take me away forever. Because I can't handle things being this goddamn bad anymore. I need something to be right. But I don't give up. I haven't given up yet. And that's because I knew that Tuesday was coming and Tuesday was when I get to talk to the only thing in my life worth living for anymore.

I just want to know when it's going to be my turn to be happy. I want to know why every time things start to look up, everything falls apart. I want to know if it's just me or is the universe actually conspiring against me? I want to know when enough suffering is enough. I want to know if I will ever be able to have that normalcy and happiness that everyone else has.

When I got to school today, I felt like everyone was laughing at me or something because they knew that I had gotten my heart broken by Rachel Berry. I don't know if that's a realistic assessment or if I'm just paranoid. Nobody said anything, but still. They could have been talking about me and how stupid I was to have even trusted someone like Rachel with my heart to begin with.

When I got to my locker and opened it, there was one single yellow rose and a note with my name on it waiting for me inside it. I didn't open the note because I recognized Rachel's handwriting on it. And I threw the flower into the trash because if I keep it and continue to look at it, all it's going to do is make me spiral out of control and I'm already spiraling, I don't need any extra help doing it.

I saw her from down the hallway, watching me throw the flower away. She put her hand over her heart as the rose fell into the garbage and I knew by the look on her face that she was going to cry but I couldn't care. It's not that I didn't care about her crying, because I really do care if Rachel cries. But I CAN'T care if Rachel cries right now. Because if I do… then I'll be weak and do what my heart so desperately wants to do and just take her back and I don't know if I can even look at her right now. I can't look at her without feeling like something is crushing me over and over again and I'm not strong enough for that yet.

I think things are getting bad again and I wish I could remember what my first very psychiatrist taught me about coping with bulimia but I can't. My memory of that entire time is a big blur. Granted, I only had three sessions before Judy pulled me out and decided that she could handle my "spitting up problem" by just throwing away the scales in the house. But there were some skills he taught me in those three sessions and I remember that they really helped me stop bingeing and purging. I really wish I could remember those skills because I think it's getting a little out of hand.

I mean, don't get me wrong. I could still stop anytime I want to. All it takes is just one time for me to just say that I'm done throwing up and I can stop at the drop of a hat. The problem is that I don't want to stop. It's all I've been thinking about lately and all I can wrap my mind around. When I'm not thinking about Rachel, I'm thinking about what I can eat and then throw up. And when I'm not thinking about what I can eat and then throw up, I'm thinking about where I can find a scale to make sure I'm one pound lighter than I was before I ate all the junk I ate.

I think it's getting out of hand because I needed to weigh myself before lunch, and the only scale in McKinley is in the nurse's office. I slammed my finger in my locker door on purpose, just so I could go to the nurse and get an ice pack. When she went back to the freezer to get it, I stood on the scale really quickly and felt so much pride and accomplishment in myself when it read 113 pounds. I kept the ice pack through lunch, just so I could have an excuse to weigh myself again when I returned it. I ate eight chicken nuggets at lunch today, twenty tater tots, two containers of applesauce, two cookies, a small bag of Doritos and two iced teas. It was a lot of food and my stomach hurt even after I got rid of all of it, but the scale said 112 when I stepped on it again and it made it all worth it.

The phone is ringing now and I know my study hall teacher is about to tell me that I'm excused from study hall. That means I get to talk to Bailey.

I can't wait.

"And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes I fall into your arms, I'll be safe in your sound 'til I come back around…"

The music flows softly from Bailey's phone on the desk between us and I use the tissue she handed me to dab more of my tears away. I wonder what other breakup songs she's got… I know it's making me cry and Bailey doesn't like it when her sessions make me cry, but it's therapeutic I think. It doesn't actually hurt that bad while I'm crying. It actually feels kind of good to listen to sad music, let myself be sad, and cry my eyes out about it.

"For now the day bleeds into nightfall and you're not here to get me through it all. I let my guard down and you pulled the rug. I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved."

"You ready to talk about it yet?" She turns the volume on her phone down a little bit and raises her eyebrow at me. "Or you still need a minute to cry it out?"

"I need a minute…" I mumble and grab new tissues. She nods her head and turns the volume back up as a new song starts to play.

She looks really pretty today, by the way. I don't usually pay that close attention to things about Bailey, aside from what she's wearing and how her hair is done. But today, focusing on the little things about her is really helping me to not think about Rachel.

"I wish it wasn't 4 a.m., standing in the mirror saying to myself, 'you know you had to do it' I know the bravest thing I ever did was run…"

Her hair is pin straight and parted on the right side, and she doesn't wear it down very often but she wore it down today and she has side bangs, which I never noticed before. Parts of her hair are tucked behind her ears, which makes them stick out and I notice for the first time that she has small black gauges in her ears. Her eyeshadow is the same light shade of purple that she always wears, but it's hidden behind her big, black-framed glasses. Her lipstick is a really deep shade of red and it looks like she put a lot of effort into penciling in her eyebrows today.

"Sometimes in the middle of the night I can feel you again… and I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man. I know why we had to say goodbye like the back of my hand. But I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man. A better man."

And outfit is really cute today, too. It's not often she wears short sleeves and when she does, she usually has a jacket on over her arms. But today she doesn't. She's wearing a plain black shirt with a deep v-neck and those criss-cross straps across her boobs. Most of it is hidden by the sleeves, but I can see little parts of a black tattoo on her right bicep, and her left arm is covered in a half-sleeve full of tattoos of sugar skulls and roses.

"Alright, Q," she turns the volume down on her phone again and folds her hands on the table in front of me. "We don't have a lot of time when I see you in school, so as much as I'd love to sit here and cry with you and listen to depressing shit, I can't. We have to start."

"Okay…" I sigh and try to pull myself together.

"So tell me what happened. Start to finish, keep it brief." She turns the music completely off and gives me her undivided attention.

"Rachel wanted to go and rehearse in private with Finn because… well, we didn't sleep a lot on the bus. We were all exhausted so Mr. Schuester went out and got us energy drinks and stuff and it made us all really wound up and crazy. And Rachel likes to practice in a serious environment, so she wanted to go somewhere else and practice with Finn. They were gone for forever so I went to go and find them and see what was taking them so long… and I saw her kiss him…"

"Oh no…" Bailey groans and runs her fingers through her hair. "You actually saw it?"

"Yeah."

"So… who broke up with who? What did you do after you saw them kiss?"

"I just ran away. I went into the bathroom so I could just be alone and process it and cry about it but then she followed me. She followed me and tried to explain so I just gave her the necklace back. So I guess I broke up with her."

"What excuse did she give you? Why did she say she did it?"

"She claims she just got wrapped up in the performance, I don't know. She seemed off. Like on the bus, she wasn't really responsive. We were playing a game and she acted like she didn't want to play the whole time and kept whining about how she was tired and stuff. She seemed really off, so I don't know. Maybe there was something else bothering her? But we had a good talk on the bus, she would've told me if something else was bothering her, so I don't know. It's like… I can see Rachel kissing him just for the sake of the drama because she loves drama. She loves drama and she commits herself to a part and she might've been telling the truth. She might have done it because she wanted to get into the moment. But I really don't think that's something she would do, Bail... I really don't. So I don't know if maybe there was something bothering her or not. I don't know and I don't want to hear her out. I don't want to talk to her right now."

"Well, it's still fresh. It's still a very fresh wound and you're still hurting, so yeah. Of course you don't want to talk to her right now and you don't want to be around her. She hurt you in a really horrible way and it's normal if you don't want to face her right now. It's normal, Q. But you should hear her out eventually. If you're saying you don't think that Rachel would do that to you, maybe you need to hear her out."

"But there's nothing she can say that'll make it okay." I say. "My trust is shot. My faith in her is shot. I don't even believe that she ever truly loved me… I think… I think I was horrible to her for so long that when I finally started to be nice, she just… mistook it for love. I don't think she ever loved me. I don't think she ever got over Finn. And if she's still in love with him, that's fine. It's fine, I don't expect her to just wake up one day and stop loving someone. I can't just stop loving her, I don't expect her to just stop loving him. But I wish she would say that. I wish she'd stop telling me over and over and over that she loves me and only me and Finn isn't anything to her and blah blah blah… just tell the truth."

"I agree with you on that." Bailey nods. "She could tell the truth, I agree. Look, maybe you can take this break from Rachel and really use it to focus on you. Build your relationship with Beth, study for your SATs, research colleges, start thinking about where you want to go… focus on Glee club. I heard you guys got first place again, awesome. Focus on that. You have all these good things around you. You have all these people around you who love you and I know it's easy to just want to give up —"

"I'm fine, Bail, I just —"

"I know you by now, Q. Don't say you're fine. You're not fine. I could tell you weren't fine the second you walked through that door, so don't lie to me. You're spiraling. You're spiraling and there's something wrong with you and if you don't want to talk to me about it yet, that's fine. I won't force it. But whatever it is that you're not telling me, you better find a way to tell me soon because I don't like what I'm seeing. You walked into this room today like a little slug. Old makeup, new pimples on your face, jeans and a sweater? That's not Quinn. That's not Quinn and I need you to start talking."

"I just… I don't know anymore." I admit and put my head down. It's like I want to cry again but I have no emotions left inside of me. "I'm starting to think that I don't deserve happiness. If I did… why is it taking so long to find me?"

"You deserve everything." She puts her hand against mine. "You deserve everything and I hate hearing you say that you don't. This is a little blip in the road, okay? Maybe you and Rachel will work it out, maybe you won't. Right now, you're just hurting and you're right to hurt. Cheating is awful. It's disgusting and it breaks a person down, it really does. But this is just a little roadblock. When you're older, you won't be looking back at this moment right here. You'll be on to bigger and better things. You need to rise above this. I know you really love Rachel and —"

"I really do love her…" I mumble. "I know we're young, but… it has to be love. It has to be. I think about her every morning when I wake up and every night before I fall asleep. I think about what she's doing and how she's feeling. I worry about her more than I worry about myself. I care about her more than I care about myself. If that's not love then I don't know what love is."

"Then it sounds to me like when the dust settles and the wound isn't as fresh… you have something to fight for." She squeezes my hand. "I want to do something with you, okay?"

"God, Bail. What do you want now? You already made me cry like a baby." I do one final wipe on my face and take a deep breath. I knew Bailey would pull my head out of my ass and make me feel better. I knew it. I'm skipping Glee club today. When I get home, I'm going to take a shower. I'm going to wash my stage makeup off, wash myself off, wash my hair, and make sure that I'm clean. I'm not going to get back in bed. I'm not going to throw up. I'm going to be perfectly fine.

"Just an exercise," she says as she rummages through her bag. She produces a handheld mirror and stands up, walking it over to the other side of the desk where I'm sitting. "I want you to look at yourself. I want you to look in this mirror, look at yourself and say that you deserve happiness."

"Bailey…" I roll my eyes at how stupid this is. "I'm not… I mean I'm —"

"I know, I know. I know it feels awkward af first and it seems really stupid and pointless. I know. I thought the same thing when my therapist told me to do it once. But trust me. It works. Just say it."

"...I deserve happiness." I whisper as I stare at my reflection.

"You do." She puts her hand on my shoulder. "And you and Rachel will work this out if you're meant to be. And if it's not meant to be… then someone who appreciates you will come along, Q. Someone who knows and appreciates what an amazing, funny, wise, smart, sweet girl you are. Someone who loves you for you."

Someone who loves me for me… you really think I'm amazing? And funny? And wise, smart and sweet? You really think all those things about me? About me? You think those things…?

I look over at the way her hand is rested against my shoulder and I feel really strange all of a sudden. Like maybe I'm not myself anymore and maybe like I'm not thinking clearly? Because I just had an idea… or maybe it's more like an urge. An urge that I can't fight. An urge that just takes over me…

And makes me look up at Bailey as she's hovering over me. She looks down at me and I feel like maybe we're thinking the same thing? Maybe we're feeling the same thing?

She doesn't lean in, but I do. Her eyes close and my eyes close too. And my lips touch hers first.

They're so soft. I mean, I've never really thought about what Bailey's lips might feel like but they're really soft and I didn't think they'd be this soft. They're the softest lips I've ever kissed. It feels like gliding my lips across a rose petal. I open my mouth to deepen it first and she follows my suit and she tastes like peppermint. Our heads tilt opposite sides from one another and I feel her tongue. Even her tongue is soft. It's aggressive, the way she uses it to massage mine and explore every single inch of my mouth… but it's so gentle that it feels like it might melt when it's pressed up against mine. With my teeth, I bite down on her bottom lip like I want to actually eat her or something and I don't think I ever want to stop kissing her… if I ever needed any confirmation that I'm gay, this right here would be it… I love women… and I love the spark that kissing her gives me. I haven't felt a spark like that ever since I saw Rachel kissing Finn…

But just as quickly as the kiss started, she pulls away from me and if I didn't know any better, I'd say that my lips are on fire and I've just burned her. That's how quickly she pulls away. And she looks at me with a face white as a ghost. She's pure white and her eyes are wide and her mouth is hung open a little and I'm not even sure she's breathing. She looks at me like she just realized what we did and how wrong it is and how much trouble she could get in for doing it.

And she's too nice to tell me to get out, which is what she really wants to do. She's too stunned and nice to tell me to get out, so she just stares at me with a very literal "oh shit" look on her face. And I've already done enough. I've done enough by kissing her and I've done enough by initiating something that could cost her her job and possibly send her to jail, so I should just leave. I should leave and never ever ever come back. She was the only good thing in my life and I just messed that up by acting on a stupid urge.

I should leave. I should never come back.

So I grab my stuff and that's what I do.

A/N: You guys are a really smart bunch of readers (smartest fandom i've ever written for tbh) so you probably saw that coming with how personal Quinn and Bailey's sessions get sometimes. but does anyone wish Bailey was younger and not Quinn's therapist so they could date for like a month until Quinn forgives Rachel, or is that just me?