Chapter 23: Comfort

The boys sat with her for hours. She woke a few times, but never stayed awake long. She's fading fast now. Finn went out with his friends afterwards, looking to blow off steam at the Rage Room. Kurt did the same, but by shopping. So he, Blaine, Mercedes, and Tina wander the mall. It feels surreal. There's simply no way Rachel is in the hospital with days left to live, fighting to stay alive, and they're walking the mall and talking about the next day of school. They stop in a candle shop and take in the different scents. One of the scents hits Kurt's nose and he immediately thinks about their spot. His eyes water. Rachel may never return to their spot. He sniffs the candle again.

"Kurt?"

"Smell." He hands it out to Blaine first.

His boyfriend smells it and immediately smiles, his eyes tearing as well. "Our spot."

Tina and Mercedes sniff it and agree.

"But it's not perfect. To be our spot we need the bonfire scent."

"If we could find the mix of scents needed to recreate being in our spot, we could give Rachel that experience while she's stuck in the hospital." Blaine suggests.

Immediately they spread out, searching for a fireside smell. A store employee sees them searching and asks what they're looking for. After hearing what, and why, the employee draws in a coworker to assist in the search. It takes a while, but they manage to get three candles that, together, recreate the scents of being in their spot nearly perfectly. They not only buy a set for Rachel, they each buy a set for themselves.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Blaine taps his fingers on his leg. Kurt is talking while driving him home, but he's only half listening. It's not that he's not interested in what his boyfriend is talking about. It's an idea that has started bouncing around his mind.

"Kurt, can you possibly…..not…..give Rachel the candles tomorrow?"

Kurt frowns. "Why?"

"I have an idea and I need at least a day, maybe two, to make it work. To go with the candles."

"Blaine….she may only have…"

"I know. I think I can get it done in a day."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Dude, stop spawn camping! Not fucking fair!" Finn complains.

He watches the kill cam as he waits to re-spawn. The game continues with the players with mics giving each other a hard time.

"Suck my dick, bro."

"How was that not a headshot?!"

"Fucking gay."

He grins, letting the game and the players ribbing each other distract him. Then his phone rings. Looking down at the caller ID, he's surprised to see Rachel's name pop up.

"Guys, I gotta go for a few minutes. My girl just called."

"Dude, what?"

"No!"

"Bros before hoes!"

"Whipped."

"Tell her to wait!"

Finn mutes his mic and pulls his gaming headset down around his neck. "Rachel?"

"Hi."

Her calm, casual greeting eases the tension in his shoulders. "Hey. What's up?"

"Just bored. I'm tired, but…..I can't sleep. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Nah, just video games. Nothing important. Sorry you're bored. Have you tried origami?"

"Got bored of it."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I'm not surprised. How're you feeling?"

She sighs, making him regret asking. She's probably sick of hearing that question. "Just bored at the moment."

"I guess the doctors upped your pain meds, then?"

"Not by much, but…I do notice a difference."

"That's good. You know, you really should have given video games another try. It's something you can do without moving or even getting out of bed."

"Can you imagine me…..setting up a gaming console….in my hospital room?"

He grins. "Hell yeah! Hospital rooms have tvs, right? I'm sure plenty of patients have set up gaming consoles. At least patients who are, you known, gonna be there a while."

"Hm. You may have a point."

"Or, you could ask your family for a handheld game like a PSP or game boy or something. Then you wouldn't have to set up a whole game system in your hospital room. You could just sit it on the nightstand next to your bed."

"I've never tried one."

Finn shakes his head. "I have. I don't have one, I had to choose one and I chose my xbox. But Artie has one and I think Mike or Sam have one, too. I can ask one of the guys to bring you theirs to try."

"Considering how bad I am at video games, do you think I'd actually do well at one?"

He chuckles. "It doesn't matter if you suck or not. It's just supposed to be fun. Or at least help you pass the time when you're not sleeping and bored off your ass at the hospital. Hey! I bet it could even help distract you during your treatments!"

Her laughter makes his smile grow. "Until I throw up on it."

He concedes her point. "True. But you don't always throw up during treatments."

"Right. Sometimes I bleed profusely or pass o—" She's cut off by a gasp of pain.

Finn sits up straighter, clutching the phone tight and wishing it were her hand. "Breathe, Rach. Just breathe through it. It'll pass. You know if will. It always does. Just breathe. You're okay." He keeps up a steady stream of encouragement until he hears her breathing return to normal and she responds to him. "Is the attack over?"

"Yeah. 'Least…..I didn't….pass out this…..time." Her voice is weaker now.

"I'll be by tomorrow to visit. With the others."

"Who all's….comin'?"

"Everyone. We'll all come after school. I promise. Get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow, Rach." He hopes to God.

"K. Love you."

"I love you, too."

He disconnects the call and just sits in silence with his head in his hands. Finn takes a few deep, shuddering breaths to gather himself. After a minute, he sits back up and pulls his headphones back on. It's silent. That's odd. He looks at the screen. The game is still going, but his online friends aren't playing. Their characters are just standing there. That's when he realizes he hadn't muted his mic like he thought he had. They heard.

"Uh, sorry 'bout that. Thought I muted." He apologizes awkwardly.

"Don't worry about it."

"Sorry, dude."

"So….is your girl sick or something?"

"Man, shut up!"

Finn smirks slightly. "It's alright. And yeah. She, uh, she's stage 4. The docs say she only has a few weeks left. Maybe less. So, when she calls, I answer. Immediately. No matter what."

The responses from the other guys come flooding in. Support, sympathy, you name it.

"What do you need?"

He's surprised to be asked that by an online friend whose real name he doesn't know and only plays with once in a while. "To play. I need a distraction. I'm 16. Dealing with high school already sucks. My girlfriend dying is…..all kinds of hell. So…..I need to come online and just play. Forget about how unfair the world is for a while."

"Alright. We can do that, right boys?"

"Hell, yeah!"

"New game!"

"Restart the round, dude!"

"We gonna play!"

The world may be unfair. Finn may currently hate life. He is terrified and angry and hurting. But there is some good in the world, too. Life sucks, but people are inherently good.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Her knee bounces. She can't stop it. Her hands are clasped around one of Rachel's, eyes on her child's peaceful face. Peaceful. Two hours ago she was not peaceful in the slightest. She'd had a severe attack. As Dr. Reed suspected, her heart had stopped.

Rachel thrashed on the bed in excruciating pain, gasping for breath.

Claws tearing jagged strips. Shelby's lips tremble. She'd seen one severe attack before. One. This one was worse. She'd tried to hold her steady, but nurses had come running in and pulled her away. They'd taken over holding her down. It had lasted for three minutes. And then she'd lost consciousness. She'd stopped breathing. Her heart stopped.

"Get the crash cart!"

The horror of watching them lower the bed and perform CPR had frozen her. Watching them step back to shock her heart went beyond any horror or terror she'd ever experienced in her life. Her father held her up.

"Clear!"

Shelby closes her eyes and raises Rachel's hand to her lips, kissing the back of it. Rachel has been unconscious ever since the attack. They have her on a ventilator, but not one with a tube going down her throat. They're using a less invasive technique. They put a mask on her that is strapped to her head and forcefully pushes oxygen into her mouth and nose. It provides more oxygen and more breathing support than a normal oxygen mask that she has been using.

They decided to begin her treatment right after, hoping that she'd remain unconscious through the worst of the side effects. But they were also worried that the side effects would be exasperated by the aftermath of the severe attack. So they gave her a mild sedative and a very strong dose of pain medication. Shelby was torn. She didn't want Rachel to be awake and suffering. However, she does want Rachel to be awake and interacting with her. Since she can't have both, she'd rather her daughter be comfortable. So she hadn't fought the suggestion from Dr. Abdallah.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Pain. Not as bad as before, but hurting nonetheless. Her entire body aches. Her head feels like it is caught in a vice and her chest feels like it was torn to shreds at some point and hasn't fully healed. Plus she's nauseous and feels like she's made of lead. The one positive thing is that she can tell she's being held. Someone is on the bed with her and they have their arms wrapped around her. Their one hand is rubbing her back. Someone else is holding her hand. There's a dull murmur of voices surrounding her.

Rachel squeezes her eyes tight and turns her head further into the shoulder of the person holding her. If she had to guess, she'd say it was Kurt. The person holding her hand gives a squeeze. Someone begins stroking her hair.

"—el? Are y—….—eyes, Ra—…..Rach—….."

The words float in and out of her awareness. She's far too tired to grasp them as they slip past. Instead, she tightens her grip on the hand holding hers. They squeeze back firmly. She pulls in a deep breath that aggravates her shredded chest. She moans. Rachel desperately tries to pull up one of her happy memories to block out the pain.

"—dosage, but I fear sh—…..not mu—…"

A warmth spreads through her veins. It almost burns, but it brings a relief from the rest of the pain so she barely notices. She unclenches her hand. Rachel lays there, letting her body relax now that the pain is fading. She focuses instead on Kurt holding her and his hand rubbing her back. She focuses on the other hand holding hers, gently now, the person rubbing their thumb over the back of her hand. Someone else is softly playing with her hair. She breathes easier.

"Take your time."

When she feels strong enough, she opens her eyes. She was right. Her brother is holding her. Quinn is holding her hand. Brittany is playing with her hair. School must be out, then. She moves her eyes slowly around the room.

"Hey, Rachel." Quinn smiles at her. "How're you feeling?"

Odd question, but okay. She has to work up the energy to open her mouth.

"Thirsty." As she expected, it came out pathetically weak.

Kurt kisses her head. "Any pain?"

"No."

"Good. You're not going to throw up on me, are you?"

The corner of her mouth tugs upward. "No."

"Good."

Brittany removes her mask. Mercedes grabs a cup and carefully places the straw between her lips. Water. She drinks what she can, far too tired to be embarrassed about needing this much help. She's dying, after all. No one will think less of her for not being able to hold a cup. Santana sits on the end of the bed. Rachel hadn't noticed at first. The Latina is watching her silently and lightly squeezing her feet. Tina is perched on a chair next to the bed. Other than Kurt, there are no guys here.

"Is….this…..girl…time?"

They smile. Santana smirks. "Of course. Any good time is girl time, Berry."

The girls giggle.

"The boys will come later." Tina tells her. "Our group is too big to come at once, so we had to split up. This way made the most sense."

The girls stay and talk, gossiping and joking. Rachel does her best to keep her eyes open, but doesn't have much energy. She listens, though. When they swap out with the boys, each girl kisses her cheek and whispers that they love her before leaving. She wishes she had the strength to respond, to tell them she loves them too. She'd tried.

"I…l..lo…."

Mercedes squeezes her hand, getting her attention. The black diva is smiling despite the tears on her cheeks. "We know, Rachel."

Puck takes Kurt's spot, holding her. Finn grumbles and sits beside them, holding her hand instead. The guys repeat the girls actions. They help her drink water. They talk and joke, but keep it tame.

Needles stab her still shredded chest. She can't breathe. She's too tired to even tense up. However, she moans just as her heart monitor starts racing, alerting the guys to a problem. Sam runs for a nurse. Puck holds her tighter. Finn grabs her head, gently framing her face. Looking into her eyes, she's sure he can see the tears forming in her eyes. She's so tired of being in pain. No more. Please. Mike rubs her leg.

"Mmm—pl—please….." She's begging. She just wants it to end.

Finn's face falls. "Just hold on. Please." He's begging, too. Just for the opposite.

She moans again, the tears beginning to drip down. She can't even take in another breath. She just can't. It hurts and she's so tired. Finn pulls off her mask and kisses her lips just as everything starts to fade to black. She hears nurses telling the boys to leave. She feels Noah lay her down. More hands are on her; nurse's hands. But Rachel focuses on the memory of the feel of Finn's lips on hers. If this is the end, she's relieved. She doesn't mind her final moments, her final thoughts, being of Finn and his last kiss.

Her lips tingle.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Shelby stands by the window with her arms crossed. Rachel is back on the less invasive ventilator. The mild attack caused her to stop breathing. The pain was still bad, despite the high levels of Vicodin and muscle relaxer in her system. Her numbers are still holding steady. She's not sure how to feel about that. Shelby thinks she's starting to understand why Rachel barely reacts each time she's told her numbers are the same. Dr. Reed stands next to her.

"Her numbers staying the same is a good sign. However," he sighs deeply "her body may be too weak at this point. She may not be able to handle the recovery."

"Would the recovery be more of what she's already been going through?" Burt asks.

"Yes."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Blaine tiredly scrubs his eyes with a deep yawn. "Alright, I think that's it. We finished it."

Artie replaces his glasses and nods. He has dark bags under his eyes. They're both exhausted, but it was well worth it. One night of not sleeping to bring Rachel a little comfort is well worth it. Thankfully, their parents agreed and let them do this. Carefully, Blaine puts the iPod in his bag. It shouldn't have taken this long, but they wanted it to be perfect.

"Wanna grab breakfast before heading to school?"

"Sure. We can take this to her as soon as school lets out."

Thinking about what had happened a few hours ago, Blaine feels a little anxious. "Maybe Mr. Schue will let us leave early."

"No."

The boys look up at Artie's mom. She sits beside them. "I've spoken with your parents, Blaine. You're staying here and resting. You're both going to get some sleep. When you wake, I'll get in contact with either Burt or Shelby and find out if I can bring you two over to visit Rachel."

"What about the rest of the Gleeks? Kurt wanted to be there when we give her the candles."

"Everyone did." Artie adds on.

Mrs. Abrams sighs. "Boys, it's not looking good. All the parents have talked to each other and to the school. For the rest of the week, you only have to go to school if you feel up to it. We know none of you would be able to concentrate if we forced you to go when you're not in the right state of mind. We're letting all of you sleep in today. Everyone will be allowed to head to the hospital. Whether you get to visit with Rachel or sit in the waiting room together so you're nearby and together…that'll depend on how she's doing later on. But for now, sleep."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ms. Pillsbury is one of several guidance counselors at the high school. She just happens to be the most detail oriented, most observant, and most empathetic, making her the favorite. But because a large group of students are in distress and there are other counselors at the school, Mr. Figgins is allowing her to work out of the building. She sits in the waiting room with the gleeks. Some parents are there as well. Mr. Schuester took time off to be with them. He's there for them, but he's also there for Rachel. And for himself. He can't be at the school while the students he loves the most are here and hurting. Sue Sylvester joins them, of course.

They were all scared at the news they receive when they first arrived. Dr. Morgan had sat with them and explained it.

"Rachel had a moderate attack this morning. Her heart stopped again. She also had multiple mild attacks. This is after her severe attack yesterday. While her numbers are holding steady, her body is very weak. The attacks are increasing and she's just not strong enough to fight through them."

"But….you'll keep giving her the treatment, right? So she has a chance?" Mercedes asks, clutching her mother's hand.

"We will. For now. So long as there's a chance she'll improve, we'll keep going. But make no mistake; it is not a guarantee. She is in constant pain. Her medication is kept high, but its still not enough to completely eliminate the pain. We're worried about giving her too much. If you visit with her, it will be upsetting. You will need to be strong for her." Dr. Morgan hesitates, then takes a breath and goes on. "Rachel is dying. If things stay the same, she only has maybe two days left. She is aware of this. So if you don't think you can hold yourselves together while visiting with her, then do her a kindness and don't go in. She needs calm and loving right now."

They nod. Tina starts sobbing, knowing she won't be able to hold herself together and won't be able to go in. Artie admits he's not comfortable going in there and seeing her like that. Ms. Pillsbury assures them it's okay.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He pulls out his phone, then hesitates, looking at her. Rachel is lying on her side facing him. Her eyes are closed, of course. She looks bad. Worse than ever. She looks like she's on her deathbed. Then he reminds himself that she is. Aunt Shelby sits on the chair on the opposite side of the bed. His dad sits further back in the room, giving them space. Her grandparents had gone home to rest for a while, leaving the aunt and uncle. Her Uncle Mark and Aunt Amy would be coming soon.

"Tink?" He gives her a minute to rouse. When her eyes focus on him he goes on. "Do you mind if I make a video for my vlog with you? A lot of viewers have been asking about you. Asking to….see you."

He hadn't been sure. His dad hadn't been sure. But he also wanted a more recent video of Rachel. Just in case. This gave him a good excuse, though only if she's comfortable with it.

"Sure."

He turns on the camera on his phone and begins recording.

"Hello all." He can't be his usual chipper self, but he can at least not fall apart. "We're here in Rachel's room where she is being treated as a VIP. Seriously, look." He points the camera around the room. "Let's start with the prompt service at the touch of a button."

Nurse Hunter is replacing an IV bag and grins at the camera. "Well, it helps that she's our favorite patient."

"That's Nurse Hunter." Kurt informs the viewers.

"But…he's vegan," Rachel chimes in with a grin, "so….he should be named…Nurse Gatherer."

Nurse Hunter halts and stares at Rachel wide eyed. At the door, Dr. Morgan bursts out laughing. She's laughing so hard she is doubled over, leaning on the door frame.

"I said the same thing, Rachel! You are definitely my favorite patient." The doctor grins.

Nurse Hunter rolls his eyes, but grins easily. "Fine, whatever. See if I bring you any more of the jello you like."

"Oh, hush." Dr. Morgan presses her stethoscope to Rachel's chest for a moment, then leaves, pulling Nurse Hunter with her.

"So not only does she have excellent service from staff, she has flowers, heated blankets, a television, a steady supply of drugs." Kurt lightly touches the IV tubes. "And, of course, the ever present special attention cart. Because you know divas, always in need extra special attention."

He points at the crash cart that they've left in her room. Then he goes back to recording himself, making sure to lean against the side of the bed so that Rachel is in the shot. They say the camera adds ten pounds. Not in this case. Certainly not in Rachel's case. Her image on his phone screen is still gaunt.

"It's…..my new…..best…..friend." Rachel jokes, her voice weakening the more she speaks. He hopes it was loud enough for the phone speakers to pick up.

"Which I was not happy to discover. Hence why the 'crash cart' is now the 'Kurt cart'."

He turns the camera back to the crash cart and zooms in. There's a small poster that Kurt had made earlier declaring it the 'Kurt Cart'.

"That way, it's still me in the role of best friend."

"Slash…cousin….slash…" She takes in a shaky breath, wincing "….brother."

With valiant effort, Kurt keeps his face calm. He squeezes her hand. He refuses to acknowledge how cold her hand is. When he releases it, she grips the rail on the side of her bed. Aunt Shelby pulls the blanket up higher on her.

"Right. Brother in all the ways that matter."

"Brother….from…." A mild hits. Her face tightens in pain and a quiet moan slips out. Kurt quickly lays his hand on hers. Behind her, Aunt Shelby's face mirrors her daughter's and she reaches for Rachel. It ends before her hand makes contact. Aunt Shelby pulls her hand back and instead uses it to cover her mouth. "…fr—from….n'other….mo-ther."

He knows he failed to keep his face straight this time. His lips twist as he struggles to smile. "Right. Brother from another mother. Sister from another mister."

She looks at him, her eyes exhausted and filled with pain. "Not…..quite….true."

For a moment he's silent, deciphering her meaning. When it hits, he looks over at his father. The man's eyes are filling with tears and he's already standing. Kurt moves out of the way to give him room to hug Rachel.

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I feel the same way, princess."

Aunt Shelby smiles softly. Kurt remembers he's still recording and lifts the camera to face himself.

"Well, folks, I think we'll leave it here for now."

His dad has stepped back, so Kurt resumes his place beside her. He ends the video with him kissing Rachel's cheek.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She presses the button to minimize the screen with a deep sigh. She started watching this kid's vlog five months ago when a colleague brought it to her attention. She'd been impressed with Rachel's singing. Very impressed. And saddened to learn of her health issues. She had watched the two videos her colleague had shown her but never intended to watch another. She'd told her colleague to keep her posted. But then she'd gotten a text one night telling her to watch the latest video, so she had. Since the vlog was already pulled up, she'd watched another. And another. She found herself engrossed in their story, in their lives. She had gone back and watched every video from the beginning.

She'd been blown away by Rachel's "My Man" performance at their Sectionals. This girl had serious star quality talent. If only she can stay alive long enough to see it through. She is not surprised when she gets a text message.

CJ: Did you see tonight's video?

CT: Yes.

CJ: God I'm trying not to cry. This sucks!

CT: Yes, it does. I hope she pulls through.

CJ: She'd be a great asset to NYADA

CT: Agreed, as I have said before.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rachel pretends to sleep while listening to her grandparents convince her mother to step out and get food with her aunt and uncle. Her mother is fighting them, but Dr. Morgan convinces her that Rachel will probably be okay for a few hours. Her mom agrees to leave for one hour only. She feels her mom kiss her temple. She understands the woman's reticence, but she's glad she's stepping out.

"You can open your eyes now, Rachel. It's just us."

Rachel does. Her grandparents are sitting side by side watching her with small smiles.

"I think its time for the discussion you'd wanted to have two days ago."

Rachel nods. "Yeah." They wait patiently, giving her time to gather her thoughts. And courage. "I…..don't know….who to tell. But…..I need to….tell someone."

"You can tell us anything, darlin."

She knows this. Its why she chose them. "I….I want….to be cremated."

Their eyes darken. Their mouths pull down. In spite of how upset they clearly are, they stay calm.

"Okay. Any particular reason?"

She shrugs lightly. "I don't….like the idea of….being in a box…in the cold ground…alone. Stupid, I know."

Nana takes her hand. "It's not stupid at all. A lot of people feel the same way."

"I know…I'll be gone…it won't…..be me." She takes in a deeper breath. "But…it still…..upsets me…to think about."

"Okay. You want to be cremated. We'll make sure it happens." Grandpa assures her.

She sags in relief. This had been weighing on her for a while now. Every time she tried to bring it up with her mom, the woman changed the subject.

"Do you…" Nana swallows hard "…want your ashes anywhere in particular? In an urn or spread somewhere?"

She'd thought about it long and hard. She nods.

"Alright, where?"

"I want….Mom….to have…..most. She can put…..my ashes…..wherever she wants."

"Okay, your mom gets most."

"But….I'd like a little…..of me to be….spread in our spot. Maybe…..right on….the fire pit."

"In your spot?"

She nods.

"Okay. We'll tell your friends. Anything else?"

They look done with the conversation. They've reached their limit, she can tell. But they're prepared to keep listening if she has more to say. One more thing, then she'll be finished.

"Just…keep the funeral…..simple. And make sure…..that Mom's…..okay."

A few tears slip past Nana's defenses. She'd done well up to this point, Rachel is impressed. Her grandmother climbs onto the bed with her, cuddling her close.

"We will, pumpkin, we will. I promise. But you know, you could still get better."

"Slim chance….of that."

"It's still a chance." Grandpa points out.

She nods, conceding his point. She's not overly upset, so she's surprised when she feels a few tears slip down her cheeks. Her grandfather climbs onto the bed on the other side and holds both of them. Rachel hears the deep rumble of his words in his chest.

She drifts off to sleep.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Shelby is holding Rachel when her friends enter the room. She knows they've been here, but have respectfully waited until they had permission to visit. She's surprised to see them carrying candles. They shut the door behind them and wink at her. Santana opens a window just a crack. When a cold breeze slips over her, she immediately tightens the blanket around Rachel.

"Guys, she doesn't—"

"We know. It'll only be for a minute and we have a good reason for it. Promise."

"It's all part of building the scene."

"Scene?"

They set three candles on the nightstand and light them. They sit quietly for a minute. Rachel's eyes blink open and she turns her head.

"Could….have sworn….I was at…..our spot."

The kids all have wide grins on their faces. Clearly, this was the point. It does smell like woods and a burning fire, and…..something she can't quite define but almost smells like….winter air. It smells good. And clearly familiar to Rachel.

"Good. That means we did it right."

"We wanted you to be able to close your eyes and….be there. With us." Kurt says softly.

Blaine pulls out earbuds and an iPod. "The finishing touch. It's the only thing on here and its on repeat. It'll just keep playing this one thing over and over."

Rachel looks curious, letting Kurt place the earbuds in her ears. They check that the volume is okay with her, then sit back, waiting.

"Close your eyes." Mercedes prompts her.

She does. After a minute of silence and stillness, a smile slowly grows on Rachel's face. A single tear traces a lone path down her cheek, but the smile is real. Rachel pulls off the oxygen mask and breathes in deeply, still smiling. When she opens her eyes, they are wet but shining bright.

"Thank you." The words are soft but spoken with such emotion that it has more impact on them than if she had yelled it at the top of her lungs.

Shelby wipes her tear. "What is it?"

Rachel pulls out a bud and hands it to her. Shelby places it in her ear, leaning close so that the other one isn't pulled from Rachel's other ear. What she hears brings tears to her own eyes. The kids had recorded themselves while at their spot. She knows that's what it is because she can hear the fire crackling, the wind in the trees, and the sounds of the kids casual conversations overlapping. They'd set it up so that none of the words can be made out, and yet you can clearly hear the voices of each kid at one point or another talking happily. At one point there's even faint singing, though the words aren't clear enough to be heard. It's a recording of happy times, happy memories that clearly mean a lot to all of them. The sounds, combined with the scents from the candles, and the cold breeze drifting gently through the window sets the scene perfectly. Rachel can close her eyes and easily imagine she is there. Swallowing, Shelby returns the earbud to Rachel.

"Guys, that's…incredible. Thank you for doing this for her."

They all smile and nod.

"We figured that it wouldn't be all the time. But once in a while. And like…..if she gets really upset or….scared or anxious…..this can maybe help her calm down. Fall back into a happy memory." Finn says softly, his voice a little rough.

"It's perfect." Rachel says just as quietly.

Each friend takes a moment to hug and kiss her before leaving. Kurt and Finn stay longer. Shelby reluctantly gets up to allow the boys to hold her. She even moves to the other side of the room to let them have a few minutes to themselves. They talk in soft whispers, Finn occasionally moving the mask enough to be able to kiss her. Once, she removes it herself and she rests her head on his chest. Shelby realizes she's breathing in his scent. The mix of his cologne and body wash that makes it 'his' scent. And from her small smile, one she finds comforting. Finn keeps holding her and singing softly until he's sure she's asleep. Then he holds her a little longer, looking lost. And scared.

Carole places a hand on his shoulder. "Finn…you need to put her down, now."

"I don't think I can."

"You can. Nice and slow."

Slowly and gently, Finn lays her down. He makes sure she is as comfortable as can be, then fixes the heated blanket over her. He sits on the edge of the bed, just watching her sleep.

"Finn."

Finn's head jerks the slightest bit, but he doesn't look away from Rachel. After a moment, he leans down and kisses her temple.

"I love you."

He abruptly stands and leaves without looking back. As he passes her, Shelby sees his expression. He's hurting. Carole kisses Rachel's forehead, then hurries after her son.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rachel drifts. Her mouth is dry.

She opens her eyes and has to blink the sleep from them. She feels heavy. Turning her head, she sees her mother. She sits in the chair by the bed, her legs tucked under her, arms wrapped around herself, and her head leaned back. She doesn't look particularly comfortable. As Rachel looks closer, she can see how pale her mom has become. Dark shadows under her eyes. Lips are pulled into a frown even in sleep. Her cheeks look sunken, as though she lost weight in a short amount of time.

Worry tugs at her heart and guilt slithers through her stomach. It's not fair. This woman spent over a decade trying to get her in her life. She finally gets her daughter only to immediately be told she's sick. Then she spends the next year watching her daughter slowly deteriorate. Rachel rolls her chapped lips between her teeth and worries at them. It's not fair. She hopes her mom can move past it quickly. After all, she's only been in her life for a year. Maybe that'll make it easier. A year of memories versus 16 years of watching her grow up only to watch her die. She hopes, anyway. She doesn't want her mom to suffer. Maybe it's a kindness. Maybe it's why her dad hasn't been here. He did watch her grow up. And now he can't handle watching her die.

Nurse Lena comes into the room. She smiles when she sees Rachel awake. She glances at her mom, then speaks in a soft whisper. "How're you feeling?"

Rachel gives a minute shrug. Lena smiles sympathetically and begins checking her vitals.

How did it come to this? When did it come to this?

"Do you need anything?"

Rachel tries to answer, but her words slur too much to be understood. Damn. Nurse Lena is patient and figures out she'd like some water. She helps Rachel drink some down. The nurse pats her hand and leaves to check on other patients. She actually wouldn't mind some pudding. It's still sitting on the tray by the table, where she wasn't able to finish it earlier. She contemplates her choices. Go back to sleep. Ask her mom to help her eat some pudding. It might make her mom feel a little happier that she's willingly eating. Or, it may not since Rachel won't even be able to lift her hand. She has to be spoon fed, which is embarrassing, so she hasn't really allowed it. But maybe, with just the two of them in the room, it wouldn't be too bad.

"Mom?" Her mother moves a little but doesn't fully wake. "Mom?"

The second time did the trick. Her mom sits up and immediately reaches for her. "Rach? What do you need, hun?"

"Pudding?"

Her mom blinks, then smiles softly. "You've got it, kiddo."

Her mom opens up the chocolate pudding and picks up the plastic spoon. She presses the button to raise Rachel's bed so she's sitting up. Rachel is grateful she's back to a nasal cannula and can just eat without having to remove the oxygen. Her mom slowly feeds her spoonfuls of pudding.

"I didn't get to do this for you when you were little." Her mother's eyes meet hers. The older woman's look of nostalgia shifts to a teasing smile. "Should I make airplane sounds?"

Rachel's eyes widen. She focuses so she can speak without slurring too much. "Don't…..you….dare. Seriously…..Mom."

"Are you sure? Maybe you'd prefer a choo-choo train?" She holds up the spoon as though threatening to actually do it.

Rachel musters up the energy to give the fiercest glare she can. Her mom laughs at her. Thankfully, though, she lowers the spoon and holds it normally. "Fine. Be that way. But if you ever change your mind…."

Rachel rolls her eyes and her mom chuckles. She ends up eating about half of the pudding cup. It's not much, but still more than she's eaten in days. Her eyelids are being pulled down by sleep. The bed lowers. Her mom takes her hand and kisses her cheek.

"You can sleep, baby girl. I'll be here when you wake."

If.

"I love you, Rachel."

She drifts.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rachel's breathing is different today. More labored. Almost harsh. A light sheen of sweat has broken out on her forehead despite her chill. She also looks more gray than pale. The dark smudges under her eyes look less like dark bags and more like bruises. Actual bruises cover almost her entire body. Any touch firmer than a light stroke seems to be resulting in a bruise. Her arms, legs, hands, and torso are covered in multicolored bruises. Even her cheek and temple have light bruising from firm kisses the night before.

Not only does each breath seem more difficult than the one before it, but they seem painful as well. Her face is consistently pinched in pain. They've upped the drugs but are worried to give her more. When she vomited early this morning, she couldn't even lift her head. Mark had quickly turned her on her side so she wouldn't choke on it. He'd had to support her head. It also meant that cleaning her up after was challenging. As much as she groaned and fought it, they'd needed to connect more tubes to her to collect body waste, thus eliminating the need for her to be carried to the bathroom. She'd sobbed when they'd said the only other option was a bed pan. This works better. The bags are hidden under the bed, out of view, and she doesn't have to worry about an accident. No one would care, but it saves her the embarrassment.

She's barely awake. When she is, she often appears only partially conscious. The mild attacks she has gotten today have made it challenging for her to keep breathing. She passed out after each one. Dr. Reed and Dr. Morgan both enter the room. That's never a good sign. Shelby has to force herself not to tighten her grip on Rachel's hand, not wanting to bruise her.

"Her numbers are holding steady. Her body is not."

Shelby's eyes drift down to her daughter's face, wondering if she's awake and hearing this. She softly strokes her hand.

"What now?"

The doctors share a look. Shelby doesn't like it. "Her odds of surviving have dropped."

Shelby shudders.

"Shelby," Dr. Morgan takes her hand. "she's not going to make it through the night."

Shelby stares at her. That can't be right. This isn't right. There's a rushing sound in her ears. There's a squeeze on one of her hands. Rachel squeezed her hand lightly. Her eyes are still closed, though.

"She won't….."

"She most likely won't live to see sunrise. I'm so sorry." Dr. Reed speaks softly.

The mother feels a tearing in her chest. A razor or…..claw. It digs deep into her heart. It will sit there. It won't tear through completely, not yet. Not until Rachel breathes her last. Then it will tear her to shreds and she will finally feel the agony that her daughter has gone through so many times.

"It's time to say goodbye."

Xxxxxx