Okay, so, there is a section in here where harmful language is used. I do NOT condone this language or tolerate anyone using it. It is not something I ever will endorse. Understand that I use them from a standpoint as someone who has heard them directed at myself and my loved ones.

-RCV

"Long story short, I told you Hiram found me planning on dropping out of high school and running away. Well, he wasn't too thrilled due to the fact he comes from a traditional, rich and conservative bloodline. It was an insult to him to have a child that was stupid enough to throw away her education because of a few bullies. He said that if I dropped out, it would make him look incompetent in the eyes of his family and that wouldn't do. He kept saying I was destined to be great, that I was born of Alexander blood, and that I should suck up whatever problems I'm having and face it head-on. I got upset, so I ran to the diner. It was a spot that I went too. Always ordered the same thing, coffee and a piece of pie. Naturally, that night went a little differently."

"Wait, not to interrupt, but did you say Alexander?" Quinn asked. "As in William Alexander, the third richest man in the Northeast?"

"Yes," Rachel said, scrunching her face.

"That's a huge family to come from. That's almost like coming from the Gates' or the Jobs'. That's old money. I can see why your father would be upset. You're apart of his legacy, which is apart of his father's legacy, and so on and so forth."

"I figured as much," Rachel said wryly.

Quinn turned red and looked down, playing with the hem of her shirt while Santana sighed and shook her head. "Ignore her. She gets excited about things like this. Please continue," she said.

"It's okay. But that night, it was just me, the cooks, and the one waitress in there before Issacs walked through the door. I was on my second piece of pie, much to the cooks amusement because I always get full with one, anyway, Issacs came in and plopped beside me. He was already drunk, slurring with his head rolling side to side. I ignored him the best I could. The waitress took his order, and everything was fine. I was finishing my coffee when he turned to me and put his hand on my shoulder. It shocked the shit out of me but I slid out of his grip and waved down the waitress for my check. She gave it to me and got called into the back to deal with some kind of typo on a to-go order. So, it was just me and Issacs in the main part. He stared at me for so long I wanted to crawl out of my skin and curl into a ball. Eventually, he started speaking…."

"Hey, ain't you them faggots' kid? The ones that live ov'r on Grayton Street?"

"I would appreciate it if you didn't insult my fathers."

"You are!" Issacs laughed and smacked his palm down on the table before he added, "How it feel to be the spawn of pure sin?"

"Can you please leave me alone?" Rachel muttered.

She slapped down a twenty and made her way to the door. Issacs jumped up and blocked her exit.

"Come on, I don't have time for this tonight," she sighed.

"Well,I do. Cuz I wanna know how a pretty thing like you came from something as ugly as that? I mean, shit, I hope you gotcha bags packed cuz you got a one-way ticket to Hell just cuz yo Daddy wanna lay wit a man. Pity. Making the unholy kind of love under the Good Lord."

Rachel winced. She had heard the spiel before, but coming from him, it felt personal. "Please," she said. "Just leave me alone."

Issacs picked up her somewhat empty mug of coffee and snickered. "I see you like it black, huh? Guess you got somethin' in common with one of your Daddies."

"Leave my father-

"That man ain't cha father!" Issacs shouted, slamming his fist down on the table. "And that ain't no kinda marriage in the eyes of God!"

Rachel sighed and pushed past Issacs, not wanting to spend another minute around the hateful rhetoric she'd come to associate with Lima, Ohio. She made it only a step before he grabbed her arm and yanked her back. He sat down on the stool and pulled her onto his lap.

"Aw. Where you goin'? I thought we was havin' ourselves a nice lil chat," he whispered in her ear, sliding his hand up her thigh.

Rachel elbowed him in the stomach and jumped off of him. "Don't you EVER put your hands on me again, you hateful, homophobic prick!" she hissed.

Issacs shot up. "What you just call me?"

"I said, you're a hateful, homophobic prick," she repeated.

"You betta watch yourself, girlie. That lil elbow of yours might be hard but my fists are harder," he warned.

"Oh screw you. I'll do a lot more if you put your hands on me again."

Issacs laughed. "Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do? Gonna run and tell one of yo Daddies about the big bad man at the diner? Which one you gon' tell? I don' mind taking a swing at either one. Maybe after I get done witchu, Ill stop by and visit 'em. Maybe show that nigger Daddy of yours a reason why people like him don' belong in this town. Good thing you aint take after him," Issacs paused and got closer, licking his lips before he continued, "Ya, thats what Ima do. After I take you for a lil spin, Ima pop in on Daddy one and two and hang them from that nice lil tree at the end of yo street. That nigger of yours should feel right at home with that one."

Issacs grabbed the back of her neck and squeezed. She tried pushing him off, but he swung her down to the nearest table and leaned down on her back. She cried out for help, but in the corner of her eye, she could see the waitress frozen in fear. The woman caught Rachel's eye and ran off. Rachel started to cry. Issacs put his hand on her lower back and exhaled, and she nearly vomited at the smell of whiskey on his breath.

"Stay still you stupid bitch so I can show you the holy natural kind of sex the Good Lord intended," he grunted.

Rachel saw red. She picked up the napkin container on the table and swung it back at Issac's head. When the weight on her back vanished, she turned and swung it again. She threw the container to the floor and tackled Issacs to the floor. She landed on top of him and punched him repeatedly. She didn't stop until she was dragged off him and held down on the floor. She felt ties go around her wrist and yanked off the floor. The waitress was crying to another officer while the EMTs tried to help Issacs, but Rachel didn't care. She wanted to kill him, and if she had just a few more minutes, she would've succeeded.

When Rachel finished telling the story, she reached for her glass of whiskey and downed it in one sip. She hated recalling what that man said to her, even in court she had a hard time, but she managed. When she looked up, she saw Tori and LJ fuming. She knew they were affected more than the others, their connections to the slave reference deeper than Rachel's, but it was Sue who changed the subject.

"Why was my ex-husband so gleeful about getting to re-arrest you?" she asked softly.

"Ah, Officer Simmons," Rachel said, snorting. "Well, at the time, I didn't know who he was, but he showed up while I was in jail in plain clothes. He taunted me a little but he mostly just kept telling me he couldn't wait until I was being transferred to Columbus. I didn't get any sleep that night because he made sure the other inmates kept me awake. It was the worst night of my life. When the judge dropped my charges, he was so angry. I remember watching him in court. He couldn't believe it, but he never let me forget about him. I never told them this, but one of the days I was at the house alone, there was a box delivered to my doorstep. In it was an orange jumpsuit and a mini-noose. I burned it in our fireplace and pretended like it never happened. Two days later, I was gone."

"What the fuck, Rae?" LJ said. "Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

"Would you?" she countered.

LJ didn't answer.

"That's why I don't like to talk about him," Quinn said warily. "He's the first 'Russell' in the sense that before Judy got married, Simmons was the one who filled her head with the rhetoric. I've only met him like, twice, but he's always calling and Judy lies, telling him that I'm sleep or not home or doing homework. She tries to shield me from him, but recently he's been coming to our church. Judy is quite upset and I'm getting a full impression of why she keeps him at arm's length."

"John was always passionate about right and wrong. Strong sense of moral compass," Sue sighed. "It's part of the reason why I married him. Unfortunately, passion turned to obsession, and I couldn't take it anymore. My divorce from him was a while ago, but thankfully, it led me to Emma, and I'm so happy that it did."

"What's bothering me is that Simmons said there's a new witness that claims I approached Issacs first. That's impossible considering the waitress left, the cooks said they didn't see anything, and I'm confused as to who came forward."

"Exactly. Sending you to jail for aggravated assault is pretty heavy," Puck said.

"It sounds like they're targeting you," Tori said. "As for why, that's still up for debate. You're not that interesting."

"Great," Rachel sighed. "As if I needed something else to worry about."

The next morning found Rachel wandering the halls with only the janitors for company. It was far too early for anyone else to be at the school, and she and the janitor had an understanding. She wouldn't tell the board about his weed stash in his closet and he would let her in even if the school wasn't officially open. As she walked down the hall, she let herself smile. There was one thing about McKinley that she missed, and that was the silence. Somehow, she ended up in the auditorium. Without Kurt's nasally complaining, Finn's off-balance dancing, and Mr. Schue's blatant favoritism, the place was actually her favorite to visit.

The piano stood alone, silent, and she hesitantly sat on the bench. Her fingers brushed over the keys, old memories floating to the forefront of her mind. Rachel played the opening chords to The Voice Within by Christian Aguilera. It was a secret obsession of hers to listen to the song every morning and every evening, but she stopped long before she went to Seattle. She sighed and let herself get lost in the music before she started to sing.

Young girl, don't cry

I'll be right here when your world starts to fall

Ooh

Young girl, it's alright

Your tears will dry, you'll soon be free to fly, ooh

Rachel's eyes closed, and she summoned the better memories from her childhood.

When you're safe inside your room, you tend to dream

Of a place where nothing's harder than it seems

No one ever wants or bothers to explain

Of the heartache life can bring and what it means

She thought of her Daddy picking her up and swinging her around while they played outside. Hiram was rarely there, but her Daddy was. He was always there for her.

When there's no one else, look inside yourself

Like your oldest friend, just trust the voice within

Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way

You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within, oh

She remembered her eighth birthday when her Daddy surprised her with a brand-new bicycle. No one else came to her party, but it didn't matter. She ate all the cake she wanted, all the pizza, and watched as many movies as she could. She rode her bike up and down the driveway, giggling when her Daddy tripped and fell trying to keep up with her, and nothing else mattered to her. She didn't need a lot of friends. She had her Daddy. Rachel felt tears well up in her eyes, and she heard her voice crack as she sang.

Now in a world where innocence is quickly claimed

It's so hard to stand your ground when you're so afraid

No one reaches out a hand for you to hold

When you look outside, look inside to your soul

Things changed as she got older. No longer was her Daddy her superhero. He was broken, miserable, but he tried so hard to still be there for her. She resented him for it, though, because it was never enough. He wasn't home the night Hiram tore into her. He was off at work, trying to avoid the house. He did get her a self-defense charge, but the day she got on the plane, Rachel thought she would look back to see him. But he didn't. Hiram had him by the arm, leading him out of the airport. Rachel hoped he would turn around, but he never did.

Life is a journey

It can take you anywhere you choose to go

As long as you're learning

You'll find all you'll ever need to know

Break it

You'll make it

Just don't forsake it because

No one can stop you, you know that I'm talking to you

Rachel slammed her fists against the keys repeatedly. Leroy was the one who encouraged her to sing, to learn the keys, to immerse herself in music, and when he stopped caring, Rachel stopped singing. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, scrambling off the bench and out of the auditorium. So eager to get away, she missed the pair of eyes watching her from the back row.

Puck was never there on time. He hated it, but it was harder staying at home than it was coming to school. He walked the halls, intent on hiding out in the auditorium to catch another hour of sleep, but stopped short when he heard someone singing. He immediately recognized the voice, but something kept him from calling out to her. He snuck into the back row and listened. Rachel's voice was always powerful, but there was something about the raw emotion leaking into her words. The lyrics weren't hers, that much he knew, and he was almost positive she was skipping around, but the story behind the song was definitely personal. Puck frowned as her voice cracked. He'd never heard it break like that, but she kept singing.

When she hit the keys with her fists, he was about to see if she was okay, but he never got the chance. Rachel jumped up and ran out of the auditorium, swiping at her face. She ran right past him, and he didn't go after her. Instead, he sat there and wondered just what happened to make the former Broadway star stop singing. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Rachel was born to sing. Whatever it was that caused her to fall out of love with singing was big enough to worry him, and he knew exactly what he had to do.