Chapter 10: As the Dust Settles
New Years Eve was celebrated fairly quietly. They spent it with the Hummel-Hudson clan. Scott's parents were going to celebrate with them as well, but since they ended up having the funeral that morning, Scott asked them to hold off. Let things settle down. Rachel listens to her family chatting happily around her. She's just not in the mood to join in. Thankfully, they're letting her be. Last year on this day, she was stage 4. She could barely stay awake for the festivities. She had to be carried up the stairs and outside. She got a bad nosebleed. She'd expected to welcome this new year in with joy and excitement. Health, happiness, and a bright future ahead of her and her loved ones. Instead, she's stage 1, facing potential death once again, filled with uncertainty, and her father just died. Uncle Burt is her dad. Scott will be her stepdad. But that doesn't detract from the pain of losing her father, who raised her from birth. That part of her life, life with her two loving fathers, may have technically been over for years now, but it is now officially ended. She had expected to be shutting the door on a different aspect of her life this year.
She's not really sure how to feel. Angry at her father for drinking himself to death. Angry at herself for pushing him to it by ignoring him. Angry in general for his death. Hurt. Scared. Anxious. Too many emotions to accurately pinpoint what's upsetting her the most and why. A laugh pulls her attention. Her mother is sitting on the other side of the room, eyes sparkling, laughing at a joke Scott just made. Her eyes move to her dad, sitting with an arm around Carole and chuckling. Kurt and Finn are playing some sort of card game. She's lucky. She knows this. She's lucky to have so many people who love and support her. She supposes she's lucky that she managed to send an "I love you" text to her father before he passed on, in response to the one he'd sent her. She's even lucky that she managed to get five whole months of health, peace, and happiness. Was it much? No. Is she still upset about how short it was? Yes. But she's trying to let that go and focus on how good it is that she got any reprieve at all. Sue really was awesome at helping her see that.
This year is ending in a matter of minutes. It has been a wild ride with many turns and at no point did she expect the turns to take her where they did. But that's life, she supposes. How will she face the coming year and the coming turns? Yero puts his head on her lap, his dark eyes peering up at her. She stares down at him, petting his head for a moment. He walks a few steps away and returns quickly, dropping his favorite stuffed dinosaur in her lap. She smiles. She will face this year with her head up, because that's what she does. And she can do it because of the people in her life. Her gold, holding her broken pieces together and making her stronger.
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Returning to school felt a little surreal to Rachel. Nothing has really changed and yet everything has. She's continuing life, but with several major, though not obvious, changes; her father gone, her mother and Scott engaged, Scott lives with them part time now, and she's sick once again. Going back to school and back to a normal routine feels weird. Kind of good, but odd. Word of her relapse spread. Not across the entire student body (she thinks) but her teachers have been told as well as her friends not in the New Directions. Many of them made a point to tell her they were sorry and hope she recovers fast. She dove back into West Side Story rehearsals. The only caveat her mother put on it was if she started tiring too much, she'd have to drop out. Since she's only stage one, and doesn't have Danton's, she doesn't think that'll be an issue. Mr. Schuester offered to let everyone spend this first week back from break singing whatever they want to help them adjust to…..everything. When they discussed what their big weekly number should be, Sam came up with an idea.
"I, uh, was listening to this song on the radio and kinda thought it'd be good for us to sing."
Curious, they'd listened to his suggestion. They'd agreed; it's pretty fitting at the moment. Especially the chorus. So, on Friday, they performed "Pompeii" in Glee. Mr. Schue asked Rachel to start them off. Santana had turned to Mercedes and sarcastically asked if she was okay with that. Mercedes had grit her teeth, but otherwise ignored her. Rachel may have agreed to start them off, but she insisted that others take solos as well. She is actively trying to be less selfish. She can't afford to be selfish.
"I was left to my own devices
Many days fell away
With nothing to show
And the walls kept tumbling down
In the city that we love
Great clouds roll over the hills
Bringing darkness from above
But if you close your eyes
Does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all?
And if you close your eyes
Does it almost feel like you've been here before?
How am I gonna be an optimist about this?
How am I gonna be an optimist about this?"
Yes. Unfortunately, it sort of feels like things haven't changed. She has been here before. And now she has to figure out how to be an optimist about this.
"We were caught up and lost
In all of our vices
In your pose as the dust
Settled around us
But if you close your eyes
Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?
And if you close your eyes
Does it almost feel like you've been here before?
How am I gonna be an optimist about this?
How am I gonna be an optimist about this?"
As the song goes on, Rachel continues to sing but also starts wondering just how everyone else is doing. She may be the one sick, but like Sue pointed out, she's not going through it alone. And it may have been her father who died, but she's not the only one going through something hard. Santana finally came out to her grandmother over break, only to have the woman disown her. It had crushed her. Mike and Tina had had a screaming match about their futures, separately and together. They're still together, but shaky at the moment. Mercedes is still on shaky ground with some of the team due to her choices in the fall. As teachers and parents press the seniors to make decisions about their futures, some are starting to crack under the pressure. Rachel and Kurt may know where they want to go, but they still have to get in. And with the return of AA, it's even more uncertain for Rachel. Kurt had made a video for his vlog, breaking the news of her relapse to his viewers. Finn, Santana, Mercedes, Sam, and Puck aren't completely sure what they want to do or where they want to go. They're all under a lot of stress right now. So this song, while primarily due to Rachel's relapse, is not just about her. And she's glad of that.
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The hallway is crowded. He bumps shoulders with multiple classmates just trying to stay close to both Rachel and Blaine. Kurt is glad she seems to be doing well, emotionally as well as physically. But he knows her. He knows she's struggling to put up a strong front. She'd slept over the night before, giving them a chance to really talk in a way they haven't been able to in a while. They didn't spend nearly as much time together over winter break as they usually do. He follows her to her locker, still discussing the musical.
"—but that's just another reason why Blaine is the best Tony." Kurt brags on his boyfriend.
Blaine blushes adorably, a wide smile blooming. "Aaaw, thanks Kurt."
Rachel grins, opening her locker. "Not that you're biased at all."
"Not one bit." Kurt confirms.
Rachel reaches for her next set of books, then freezes. Kurt watches her eyes narrow. Her face pales and she spins, looking around the crowded hall. Kurt does the same in confusion.
"Everything okay?" Blaine asks.
Rachel's eyes are watering. She hands something to Kurt. It's a scrap of paper. No. It's firmer than that. Someone tore off part of a greeting card and slipped it into Rachel's locker.
I'm so happy for you!
For a moment, he doesn't get it. He frowns and hands it to Blaine. Rachel pulls something else out of her locker. A single black rose, wilted and dying. The dots finally connect.
"That sick bastard." Blaine made the connection faster than him.
Kurt slams her locker shut and grabs her arm, guiding her down the hall. Blaine carries the "gift" from Rick and follows, his eyes scanning the hall for the cruel boy. The bell rings and the halls thin as students rush to their classes. Rick may not have physically done anything to Rachel since he made his initial threat, but this is the second time he has tormented her in some way. Kurt tries to swallow down his fear that this is all leading to something big. But he can't. Probably just the drama queen in him. They get to Coach Sue's office and silently hand her the items. The woman looks them over with a scowl.
"I'll check the security cameras. We might be able to catch who put it in there. For now, continue with the plan. Don't go anywhere alone and keep reporting anything suspicious. You'll be fine, Rachel."
Rachel nods.
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The rest of the team is furious.
"There's nothing we can do?!"
"That little cocksucker has gotta pay!"
"We can't let him threaten her like that!"
"Guys! I'm just as mad as you. But without proof, and since she hasn't actually been harmed, there's nothing we can do. For now, lay low. Once we have solid evidence, we will approach him through the proper channels and keep you guys out of trouble."
"You think I care about getting in trouble? This douche bag is tormenting my girl!"
"Finn, you need to wait."
"I don't wanna wait. I want to pound his face in!"
"But you can't."
Finn clenches his hands and looks away, dissatisfied with the lack of action. He waits until after Glee to do anything. He gets the attention of Puck, Sam, and Mike. Figuring he has a plan, they follow him willingly. They look confused when he leads them to Coach Sylvester's office.
"Coach, you got a minute?"
The woman was in the middle of a conversation with their football coach. Upon seeing their determined expressions, she gives a nod.
"We can't do nothing."
"He's getting away with sending threatening messages."
"Maybe it's time we take a page from his book." Finn declares.
The two coaches share a look. "What did you have in mind?"
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Sue Sylvester watches with sadistic amusement as Rick Nelson and his father vent their anger at Principal Figgins. Rick's face is bright red. His father has a vein popping in his forehead.
"This is vandalism! This is a crime! You need to find the perpetrators! Now, Figgins!"
"I assure you, Mr. Nelson, we are taking this very seriously."
"My son's tires were slashed! All four of them!" Spittle flies from his mouth.
"The tires were fine when I parked this morning. Then, when I went to drive home after school, the tires were flat." Rick scowls, slumped back in the seat with his arms crossed. "I know who did it. It was Hudson and his friends."
"We don't know who it was." Figgins attempts to calm them down.
"Well, who else would it be?" Rick snaps.
"Can you think of anyone else who would want to damage your property?"
Sue has to work hard to keep a straight face. Majority of the school would love to see Rick knocked down a peg or two.
"You have security cameras, don't you?"
Figgins hesitates. Sue has to literally bite her tongue. "We are…..currently…..experiencing technical issues with our cameras."
"What?"
"The cameras were down. We've hired someone to come fix them."
"That doesn't help us figure out who slashed the tires!"
"Well, no, but—"
"So you're useless! This happened on your watch, Figgins!"
The angry father and son leave the office, threatening retribution. Figgins releases a breath. Sue starts to leave, but he stops her.
"Sue, the wires were cut."
She raises an eyebrow. "Sounds like you've got a rat problem, Figgy. Better lay down some traps."
"Sue, they were snipped straight across! It was a clean cut!"
"Neat little fuckers, huh."
"Sue!"
Sue leans across his desk, getting nose to nose with the small man. "The way I see it is you have two choices, Figgy. You can either use all of your resources to identify who slashed the tires and who keeps tormenting a young girl facing a life threatening illness, or you can leave this little bit of vandalism be. Since you haven't done anything about either problem yet, I'd suggest leaving the past in the past. But, improve things around here so that from now on all students are safe. Well funded bullies and upset students lashing out. Everyone deserves to feel safe in your school. And the fact of the matter is, they don't. That's on you."
She walks out, leaving him spluttering.
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Rachel can't deny that she takes some pleasure in how furious Rick is for the rest of the week. While she's a tad nervous that he'll seek retribution, he has to know that he's the one who started it. This is on him. The boys were just returning the favor. If it had been them. Of course it wasn't. They were with their football coach, watching videos of their years playing at McKinley. Anyone passing by the boys locker room could hear the videos being loudly played and Coach Bieste commentating.
She is less pleased that the hockey team has started bringing slushies into the school and throwing them at people. She thought they'd done away with that years ago! The teachers are stepping up and forcing students to throw away the frozen drinks the moment they see them. But if they keep them covered long enough, they are managing to throw them at an unsuspecting victim before being caught. Those who are caught are getting detentions. Rachel is glad to see the teachers doing their best to put a stop to it. So far she has avoided getting slushied, but only because those who have tried have been stopped. Mr. Schue snagged one guys wrist just before he could throw it at her. Another was diverted when Sam tackled the guy about to throw it at her. Both attempts were from guys on the hockey team. Both ended up with detentions. Dad….Uncle Burt…..is prepared to go to the school board and raise a fuss if either Rachel or Kurt end up slushied. And he's not the only one. Her mother and several other parents are prepared to raise a stink about it if necessary. The squeaky wheel gets the oil, as the saying goes.
The New Directions are busy arguing about songs for Regionals. They've all tossed in ideas, but no one can agree. Thankfully they've been scheduled to compete later than usual this year. Their competition isn't until March. They have time, but they want the songs decided upon soon so they can start working on choreography. Most of them are involved in West Side Story, and that performance is next week. Rachel is kind of glad. It's been fun and it'll look good on her NYADA application (which she is hard at work on). But being done with it will be one less stress on her plate. She wants to just focus on Regionals. And her weekly treatments. Kurt and Blaine went to her second treatment. Finn and Sam are coming this week. They'd had an argument with Brittany and Santana over who would get to go with her this week and who would go next week. Finn pulled the boyfriend card and won.
"You guys may be her boys, but we're her girls! Right?" Brittany looked over to her for reassurance.
Amused and a little touched, Rachel had nodded. "Absolutely."
She chose to pretend she didn't see Mercedes open her mouth and Santana point a finger at her threateningly to shut her up. While she can't blame Santana for still being mad at their friend (San doesn't do well with abandonment), Rachel hopes she truly forgives Mercedes soon and lets it go.
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Performances start Thursday night, so Shelby arranged for Rachel to have treatment on Tuesday. That gave her a full day to recover from any potential side effects and not impact any performance or their final dress rehearsal. Not that Rachel has had major side effects yet, thankfully. Just a headache the first time and mild nausea the second time. Nothing bad. They'd had one more appointment with Dr. Reed. Her numbers dropped, but just a smidge. She's still fairly early stage 1. It looks like Rachel will need more than just a couple treatments to go back into remission. It's disheartening, but not surprising. Rachel will be fine. Their extended family is coming to watch the Saturday night show. Scott and Shelby are going to watch the opening night performance. Burt and Carole are going to the Friday night show.
Sue had sat with Shelby and Rachel and gone over the video footage from the hallway with her locker. It showed a busy hall with a large group of students, whose faces never turn to the camera, move slowly together, stopping periodically.
"I think they purposely kept their faces covered and turned away. And with such a large, slow moving group, it would have been easy for any one of them to slip that stuff into Rachel's locker without being seen. I'm sorry."
Shelby sighed. She'd been hopeful. "Thanks anyway, Sue. I appreciate that you tried."
"We're going to start posting teachers to monitor that hallway more closely." Sue promises them.
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January is coming to a close and Rachel is feeling….okay. She still feels like she carries some of the blame for her father's death. She's still upset about his death. She's still angry and upset that she's sick again, but she's focusing on staying positive. Her father is at peace and she doesn't have to worry about him. She's sick, but she doesn't have Danton's so it's not nearly as bad. The statistic for life expectancy after a second life threatening diagnosis is just a statistic; it doesn't mean it'll apply to her. The musical was a success. Scott and her mother had gotten her flowers for opening night. She'd been touched. She'd loved that she'd had family members at just about every performance. It made her feel special. Wanted. To her, the fact that they'd planned to come watch her perform before she relapsed is proof that they're actually interested in her activities, not coming out of pity. The cast had a big party after the final performance and they'd all had fun. She enjoyed the musical, but she's glad it's over. Now, they can focus on Regionals. And she can focus on going into remission quickly. And Santana can focus on repairing her relationship with her grandmother. And Mercedes can focus on repairing her friendships with the rest of the team. And her mother and Scott can focus on planning their wedding. It sounds like neither care about having a big wedding. Both are more interested in a small, quiet ceremony then having a party to celebrate with friends and loved ones. The three of them are getting used to Scott living there part time. It's a little odd at times, but not bad. Things aren't great, but they aren't bad either.
She sits in Spanish class taking notes from Mr. Schuester's lesson. She really is glad she still has this class with Brittany and Finn. It makes class more fun. Plus she likes getting to study with her boyfriend. A kiss for a right answer is a great study system, they've discovered. Kurt isn't in school today. He had a dentist appointment for a cavity and since they could only get him in at 10 and his mouth will be numb for a while, Uncle Burt is just letting him stay home. She's debating going over there after school to make fun of his inability to eat or drink with a straw without looking ridiculous. She's writing the correct conjugation of irregular verbs when it strikes. It wasn't the sudden pain that made tears leap to her eyes. It was the anger. And fear. She feels betrayed. She spent over a month thinking she didn't have Danton's. And then a mild attack strikes in the middle of class, wiping away all hope and bringing in a new wave of fury and despair. It is those emotions that hurt more than the attack itself. She really thought it would be easier this time. Less painful. She let herself believe. Just like she let herself believe she was done with aplastic anemia. Rachel drops her pen and leans forward, her head bowing. She knows her face in scrunched up. She really thought….The pain ends but she can't relax. She stays tensed up and looking down at her desk. Finn's hand lands gently on her back. Another set of large hands take hers.
"Rachel?"
She looks up into her teacher's eyes. She doesn't want to have a meltdown in front of her entire class, but she knows one is imminent. Mr. Schuester is staring at her in concern.
"Rachel, was that—" He trails off, his unfinished question answered when tears start slipping down her cheeks.
She works hard to keep herself together. Finn's hand presses more firmly. Mr. Schuester starts gently guiding her out of her seat. The class is silent. She can feel all of their eyes on her. They know. A soft sob slips past her pressed lips.
"I don't wanna go through this again." She whimpers to him. "I was done with it! I put it behind me!"
"I know. I'm so sorry, Rachel."
He pulls her into a hug, shielding her from her classmate's prying eyes. He gets her out of the room. Once in the hall, she's not the slightest bit surprised to find both Finn and Brittany have joined them.
"Sue's not here today. Go to Ms. Pillsbury's office and she'll call your mom."
She doesn't speak. Finn and Brittany walk with her to the guidance counselor's office. There, Finn sits and pulls her onto his lap. Brittany sits next to them, but pulls her chair against theirs. She drags Rachel's legs over onto her lap and squeezes them.
"Guys? What's going on?" Even while asking, the woman is getting up to flip the switch to make the glass wall of her office opaque, effectively blocking them from sight and letting others know she is not to be disturbed.
Rachel doesn't answer. The words are stuck in her throat. It's like sitting in Dr. Reed's office all over again, but worse. Then, he'd given her a bit of hope; she might not have Danton's. Now, that hope has been ripped away and with it, her strength to stay positive.
"She had a mild attack in class."
"Oh. Oh, Rachel. I am so sorry."
Rachel buries her head in Finn's neck, crying quietly. He rubs her back. Brittany takes one of her hands. She listens to Ms. Pillsbury quietly explain the situation to her mother on the phone. They sit in silence until her mother comes to get her. Her tears have slowed. Not because she's done crying, but because she's starting to feel numb. The numbness isn't comforting, but it's better than having to fight to hold back the emotions that had been threatening to overwhelm her. The scent of juniper and apples makes her aware that her mother has arrived. Rachel lets her pull her off of Finn and Brittany. She leans into her side as they walk to the car.
"How are you, honey?"
She can't answer. She feels how she did after hearing she'd relapsed, but…..worse. Words aren't possible for her right now. Her mom sighs and kisses her head, but doesn't push her to talk. When they get home, she curls on the couch with her mom. They watch Ever After, one of her Mom's go to "feel good" movies. Rachel is glad her mom isn't trying to get her to talk. She can't. The words are stuck. The numbness has spread, dulling everything. She falls asleep on the couch, safe in her mom's embrace. She wakes later and listens to her mother and Scott talking in the kitchen.
"—too much for her."
"She'll still be fine, Shel!"
"Yeah, but at what cost?"
Unable to listen anymore, she escapes up to her room, Yero following close behind. She shuts the door and paces like a caged animal. As hard as she tries to not think about it, it's all she can think about. She'd stayed positive. She'd held out hope. The one thing keeping her optimistic was the knowledge that she didn't have Danton's and wouldn't have to deal with attacks. She wouldn't have to live with the fear of an attack dangling over her. She wouldn't have to suffer that horrible pain and the fatigue with the aftermath. She figured she could handle the rest of the symptoms and other aspects of AA just fine. But now…..now…..that hope has been cruelly yanked away.
She continues to pace, her motions becoming more frantic as memories of prior attacks flash through her mind. Not just the attacks, but the fear and uncertainty of not knowing when one would hit. The exhaustion afterwards. The looks on her loved one's faces during and afterwards. "Yeah, but at what cost?" A very good question. Maybe, now, the cost is too high. Yero butts his head into her leg, causing her to stumble. Rachel sucks in a breath and steadies herself, not realizing that she hadn't taken a breath until he'd interrupted her downward spiral. She steps away from him and resumes her pacing.
Her mind jumps to the end, her hands clenching. By the time last February rolled around, she was dying and she knew it. She didn't want to die. She didn't. But she didn't want to suffer anymore. She had suffered for over a year. She had watched her family and friends become more worried, stressed, and scared as time went by. She was tired of it; physically and emotionally. She'd let go, right up until she was at the crossing point. Then, she'd hesitated. Then, despite knowing she'd be returning to more fear and pain but wanting to stay with her loved ones, she'd clung to life. And she'd survived. Initially, the pain was so bad that she hadn't been sure she'd made the right choice. Then she started getting better and she was very certain she'd done the right thing. Now? Now, with it all coming rushing back…no. Now, she fears she made a mistake.
Rachel's eyes find the painting on the wall. The one her friends got her as a reminder of her battle and choice to return. Not again. The picture slants, then slowly warps like a living Van Gogh painting. The wall it's hanging on seems like it's closer than it was a moment ago. She turns, looking frantically around her room. All of the walls seem to be closer. Her room feels tiny; like a cage. Her breaths come faster. The room is hot. How hadn't she realized how hot her room was getting? A bead of sweat rolls down her back. Her stomach churns uncomfortably. The walls feel too close. She needs to leave. She needs out. Her feet don't work. She stands stock still, her hands clenched into tight fists and taking gasping breaths. Her panicked thoughts start coming faster and faster.
Danton's.
Attacks will be coming.
How often?
What about severe attacks?
How much is it going to hurt?
Will it be exactly like before?
What if it's worse?
Will she get to keep living her life how she wants?
And then she thinks about her mom. And Kurt. Finn. Da—Uncle Burt. Everyone who loves her.
Her mother's pale, thin, exhausted face while Rachel lay in the hospital.
Kurt's red, wet face and shaking hands clutching hers.
Finn's deep frown, with dark shadows under his eyes, his hand holding hers to his lips.
Uncle Burt's dark eyes watching her worriedly, the lines on his face deeper than ever.
Dylan and Oliver's wide, scared eyes watching her struggle to stand.
Grandpa's drooping shoulders.
Nana's head bent in prayer.
They'll go through that again, too. Because of this. Because of her.
She's struggling to breathe. The edges of her vision begin to dim. There's a sharp sound from nearby, but she can't focus on it and can't identify it. Then something grabs her hand. Yero. He has her hand in his mouth and is pulling her down to the floor. Her shaking legs obey and she sinks down. A hand lands on her arm and someone sits next to her. Arms go around her. She's pulled back against her mother. Larger hands take hers.
"—nd out. Come on, follow me, Rachel. Breathe in…and out. C'mon, baby girl. You're okay. You're alright."
No, she's not. She follows her mother's instructions anyway. Eventually, she's able to get in full breaths and the room comes into focus. Scott is sitting in front of her, holding one of her hands. He's trying to get her to loosen up her fist. Her mother is still holding her, but her hands are holding Rachel's other hand, doing the same thing. Her mom and Scott are trying to pry her fingers open. It's not intentional. She tries to open her mouth to apologize and explain that she doesn't mean to still be clenching this hard. Her jaw remains clenched shut and no sound emerges.
"—rk with us, honey. Open your hands. Please, baby girl, just relax your hands. It's alright. You're alright."
She's not. But neither are they. The adults are tense. Scott is frowning harder than she's ever seen him. She can't see her mom's face, but her voice betrayed her own tension. Rachel doesn't mean to be causing this. She didn't mean to cause a lot of things, she realizes. Unintentional or otherwise, she has caused a lot of people a lot of stress and strife. Tears roll down her cheeks. She doesn't mean to! When will she stop hurting the people she loves? Scott has managed to unclench her right hand. He holds it firmly between both of his now, not letting her reform a fist. Not that she's trying to.
"Open your hand, honey. Relax your hand."
Her mother switches from trying to force the fingers open to gently running her fingers over hers. She takes Rachel's left hand in both of hers and lightly massages it. Finally, Rachel manages to unclench her hand. Her mom entwines their fingers and holds her hand between hers. The three of them sit silently for a couple minutes. Her mom rocks her slowly. Rachel realizes she can hear her mom's heart pounding. It sounds faster than normal. Of course it is. Because Rachel is stressing her out, as usual. Both adults are holding her hands. Her mother rests her head against hers and releases a slow breath. Her heart rate finally slows as well.
"Talk to me, baby girl."
Exhaustion presses down on her and she slumps further back against her mom. Her eyes slip closed. Voices murmur above her. Scott lifts her, placing her gently on her bed. His aftershave has an herby scent that's becoming familiar and comforting. When she wakes, her room is dark but her mom is still holding her. Her body feels like she ran a marathon. Her eyes feel scratchy and heavy as she blinks the sleep from them. It takes a minute for her mom to realize she's awake.
"Hey, honey. How are you?" Her mom brushes her hair behind her ear.
Rachel snuggles closer. She can't answer. She doesn't want to. But more than that, she feels like she can't. The words just aren't there. She feels too much too deeply to be able to verbalize it all.
"Rachel, I need you to talk to me."
She would. But she can't. Instead, she starts twisting the fabric of her mom's shirt. Her mom kisses her head.
"Just try, baby girl. Please."
She can't.
"What can I do? What do you need?"
Rachel lets the fabric of the shirt slip from her fingers and hugs her mom. She hears a long sigh, then silence. They lie there for a while before her mom begins to hum. It's soft and beautiful. It makes her feel loved. It makes her think of how much her mom loves her. It also brings up memories of her mom holding her, hugging her, cuddling with her, and humming for her.
They're cuddling on the couch. She's upset. Her mom is humming.
She's in the hospital, her mom's humming is the first sound she hears upon waking.
They're on a bed. They're both scared and upset. Her mom is humming.
She's in pain. So much pain. Her mom holds her and hums, giving her something to focus on besides the pain.
Her mom is cradling her. She's dying. She hears her mom's humming following her as she fades away.
She's angry and hurting. Her mom hums.
There are so many memories in only two years. Two years of her mom comforting her. Loving her. Is that to be the extent of their relationship? Her, suffering, and her mom comforting her? Will they ever experience a life with different roles? Without the fear, pain, and heartbreak? They got a taste of it. For five months. The anger starts burning within her once more.
Five months.
Her chest tightens and her eyes burn. She presses her lips together but she doesn't have the strength to hold back her emotions anymore. She's too tired. The unstable wall holding them back crumbles and the torrent of tears escapes. Her body shakes with the force of her sobs. Her mom's arms tighten, holding her together as she falls apart. She is sobbing out of fear, hurt, and anger. Not just for herself, but for her mom, Kurt, her dad, Finn, her grandparents, and basically everyone who loves her. She knows she's not the only one this will be hard on and she's afraid just how hard it'll be for them.
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Two days.
Rachel hasn't spoken in two days. She hasn't gone to school. She only left her bed when Shelby forced her to go downstairs to eat, not that she ate very much. She lets Shelby hold her, but hasn't tried to seek out comfort on her own. She made an emergency session with Renee for today. She hopes the woman can help, because nothing Shelby has tried has gotten through to her. No reassurance that she'll be fine, or reminders that she's strong and can handle anything, that she's not going through this alone, nothing has gotten a response from the girl. She wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, but she told the other kids to hold off visiting.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
"She spent the entire hour silent. I couldn't get her to talk. I'm sorry, Shelby."
Shelby wrings her hands. "Then what do I do? She's not talking to anyone about it. All she has said is that she doesn't want to go through it again. That's it! Then she went silent."
"That may be all she's able to express right now. Rachel feels things very deeply. She may need more time before she can express them. My recommendation is don't rush her. Let's schedule another session for next week. Give me a call if you need to schedule an emergency session sooner."
"Thank you."
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School has not been fun the last two days. First was the New Direction's dealing with the discovery that Rachel does in fact have Danton's again. They were all upset, minus Sugar. It was not a pretty sight. There was lots of anger, cursing, some crying, and some denial. Mr. Schue worked hard to calm them down, but also to get them to move past it.
"Guys, I understand how you're feeling. You want to deny it and pretend it's not really happening. But that's what Rachel's doing, too. She is not handling it well. She refuses to talk about it. If you're denying it too, you're not helping her handle it. Get it together. It's not about you. It's about what she needs."
Second, just not having her in school is upsetting. It reminds them all too much of last year. In fact, it was this time last year that she stopped coming to school. And third, the hockey team has started making comments. It started as questions phrased to sound concerned.
"Hey, where's Berry? Haven't seen her around. Hope everything's okay."
The words may have been kind, but the tone and slight smirks on their faces proved otherwise. And yet, there was nothing they could do about it. Finn punched his locker. Dented it pretty badly. But he knew that if he let himself punch any of the douche bags pissing him off, it'd just make everything worse. So he's working on control. Not very well, but he's working on it.
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The numbness creeped back in pretty quickly after her panic attack and meltdown. Too many emotions, too intensely felt, simply became too much for her. Numb is preferable. It turns out silence is pretty nice, too. She has always talked a lot. A lot a lot. Even if she was just talking to an empty house, she spoke. Constantly. She learned to curb it somewhat as she got older, but she's still a talker. She'll get quiet at times when emotions become overwhelming, but silent? That's new. She knows it's worrying everyone, but she just doesn't have the words to express how she's feeling. There's a song by a Canadian band she knows a few songs from. Punk rock is not her usual genre of music, but she prides herself on knowing many genres and bands and songs so that she can be prepared to sing many different styles. She forgets the name of the song, but one line from it always stuck with her.
"When you try to speak but make no sound,
and the words you want are out of reach,
but they've never been so loud."
That's how she feels. The words are so loud they're drowning out everything else. But they're also just out of reach, leaving her unable to verbalize how she's feeling. So she says nothing. It's probably for the best. A year ago, she kept a tiny secret, her own little monster, tucked away in her heart. She thought that little monster had died along with AA. But with it's resurgence comes the return of the monster. And it has grown bigger. She's afraid. If she opens her mouth to talk, what if that is what comes tumbling out? What would their reactions be? What would her mom's reaction be? She doesn't have to consider it for long. She knows how her mother would react. And it's exactly why she'll never tell. Never.
Irony has her getting out of bed and heading down the stairs to seek out comfort from the woman she can't talk to.
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She sees her from her peripheral vision, slipping silently down the stairs like a phantom. She doesn't react, waiting to see what her daughter will do. She has tried so hard to be patient and do what she can to let Rachel know she can talk or yell or sing or do whatever she needs to do to help her face this. Renee said to give her time. So she's giving her time. When Rachel sits next to her and curls against her side, Shelby instantly drops the papers she was working on, letting them flutter to the floor. She wraps an arm around her daughter and breathes a soft sigh of relief when Rachel rests her head against her shoulder. She waits. She presses her lips to the top of Rachel's head. Rachel sighs, but doesn't speak. She reaches her hand out slowly and places it on Rachel's clasped hands. Let me in, she thinks desperately. Her daughter's hands remain clasped, not yielding to her mother's loving touch. They sit in silence for a while. Shelby tries to see it as a good thing; at least Rachel is actually seeking out comfort now. Finally, Rachel raises her eyes to her and speaks.
"Mom?"
Something in her gut unclenches. "Yes?"
"I don't want do this again."
She immediately looks down, as though she regrets saying it. Shelby lifts her chin, holding it until her child looks up again.
"It's okay to feel like that. It's understandable. I don't want you to have to do this again. But we can't avoid it. Until you go into remission again, you'll be getting attacks. Remission still might come soon, Rachel. You're still stage one and you've only been getting treatments for a month. You could still go into remission soon."
Rachel nods.
"Can you tell me more about how you're feeling?"
A shrug. "It's just…..too much."
"I think you'll find it easier to manage if you get back to living your life, not hiding in your room. I've let you hide. But not any more. You had your time to yourself. I understood it. I allowed it. But now it's done. Now, we live. Okay?"
"Okay."
"I'm going to let you choose. Do you want to start by going back to school tomorrow? Or by having your friends come over later today? They've been here every day asking to see you."
She nods. "Okay. But only Kurt today."
Shelby knows Rachel needs that bond. Kurt is the one person who has been there from the start, and stayed by her side through everything.
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Kurt came over immediately after school. He walked into her room and curled up with her on her bed. Yero let out a quiet "wuff" and moved to lay on both their feet.
"I'm sorry, Tink."
She nods.
"But you can't go silent like this again. You scared the shit out of me."
Rachel huffs and shifts back a little. "I'm sorry Kurt, but I'm scared, too. Among other things. I needed time to let those emotions settle so they weren't so overwhelming."
"I know. I know how scared you are. I'm scared, too. But we can't hide."
Rachel frowns. "I get that you're scared, Kurt. But it's not the same thing."
Now it's Kurt's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"
She's not sure how to answer him. "I mean…..yes, I understand you're scared. But the attacks will hit me. I'm the one who might die. Not you."
Kurt stares at her with an indiscernible look. "My fear might be different, but it's not like it's not as strong or bad, Rachel."
"I'm not saying it's not strong. It's just different."
"Right. Because it'll happen to you." She nods. "But I'll be right by your side, Tink. I'll be with you through all of it. So I'm just as scared."
Rachel sits up, feeling a little irritated. It's not that she doesn't understand that he's scared for her. She's not trying to discredit or brush off his emotions. She knows he's right and yet, he doesn't seem to be acknowledging that it's worse for her. Instead, she feels like he's insinuating that she overreacted to discovering that she has Danton's again. That rubs her the wrong way. Besides, she's the one who'll actually be suffering. Not him. And she's afraid for her loved ones. They're scared for her. Kurt especially. She knows this. But she's the one actually going through it and worrying about everyone else, too. Kurt sits up as well.
"But the attacks happen to me. I know it'll upset you and you'll hold me and be by my side. But you're not the one who'll be feeling that pain. That's a different type of fear." On top of fear for how everyone else will deal with it. She keeps that part to herself. She needs him to understand that she wasn't just being melodramatic. "You don't know suffering like I do, Kurt."
Her brother's face flushes red. He stands. She's startled to realize his eyes are shining with unshed tears. But he doesn't look sad. He's glaring at her fiercely.
"I don't know suffering?" His incredulous tone and wavering voice have her frowning deeper. "I don't know suffering?! Rachel, I held your dead body in my arms! You died! In my arms! Remember that? I love you so damn much and I had to watch you go through agonizing pain over and over, knowing there was nothing I could do but hold you. I had to watch the person I love most in this godforsaken world slowly waste away as you got weaker and weaker. I held you on your damn death bed! I said goodbye to you! I watched you nearly die in your mom's arms! For months I spent every day terrified I was going to lose my sister. So don't you dare sit there and tell me that I don't know suffering!"
Hot tears are dripping from both their eyes. Rachel cries silently, watching her brother struggle to reign in his intense emotions. His chest heaves, his lips are pressed tightly together, and his face is wet and blotchy. She wants to clarify what she meant, but is hesitant to interrupt him. When he goes on, he's no longer yelling but still sounds angry.
"You've suffered. You're scared you're gonna go through that again. I get it. But you're not the only one who suffered last time and you're not the only one afraid this time! You can be scared and whatever else, but don't tell us that we don't know suffering. You need to understand that you're not alone in this and you're not the only one affected by this. So pull your head out of your ass and get it the fuck together!"
With that, Kurt storms out of the room. Rachel stares after him, tears still on her face, and confusion and regret in her heart. The front door slams. She moves to sit in the bay window seat and stares out the window. She watches Kurt drive away. She's not sure she understands what just happened. He's angry with her? Does it only stem from him misunderstanding how she phrased it or something deeper? Is it because he's angry he has to watch her suffer again and there's nothing he can do? Is he angry with how she's handling it? He's scared. Is he scared for her or for him? Or for both of them? Rachel wipes her cheeks and rests her head against the cold glass of the window. No. He's angry that she's not acknowledging his emotions as being as relevant as hers. She really needs to stop doing that. She feels like all she's been doing lately is upsetting people. She thinks back to a year ago. A year ago, she was stage four and dying. She thinks over every detail she can recall. She doesn't think anyone was angry. Sad and scared, but not angry. Not with her, at least. Were they then, but just hiding it? Her thoughts drift to her father. Was he angry, scared, or both when he turned to drinking? She thinks about how he died. Alone. Did he know? Was it peaceful? Her mother told her he didn't suffer.
He didn't suffer.
And no one around him suffered, either. They were shocked and upset to find he had died, but there was no long, drawn out drama over it. He was there and then he wasn't. No one watched him waste away. No one spent months worried. Sure, he died alone, and that's a fairly horrifying thought. But Rachel thinks about it some more. Would it really be so horrible? To die alone? No one has to suffer through watching you die. No one is forced to sit by helplessly as you get worse and worse. No one has to spend months, or worse, years, worrying about you. You don't have to watch them become more stressed and miss out on living their own lives while trying to support you. You don't have to feel guilty for burdening them or scaring them. You can just…slip away. No pain for you. No stress for them.
Maybe he had the right idea.
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A/N: Not gonna lie, I was laughing while writing the rat lines for Sue. She's fun to write. The song I mentioned in this chapter is "Beside You" by Marianas Trench. Also, don't be like Rachel. If you experience intense emotions, talk. To anyone. Rachel is a teenager whose abuse and neglect in her formative years causes her already intense personality to fluctuate between being selfish and selfless. Sometimes to extremes.
