A/N: Another chapter? Whoo. You feel my excitement, right? Yeah. Expect a huge leap in time. Expect a lot of Rachel. Expect little Quinn. Expect some FABERRY! EXPECT NO FINCHEL! or Finn. Wahoooo! Enjoy.(:


Rachel runs to her locker, or gets as close to a run as she can with her short legs. She can feel her anxiety chase after her, so much faster than she is. It engulfs her like a wave, flooding her with panic. It's been a bad day. Rachel has seen Finn Hudson five times in the hallways, feels his presence haunting her and it sets her on edge. She knows he's not there. He couldn't be. He was gone, for good, and everyone knew it. She is in desperate need for her medication. She hates it; hates how it makes her feel nothing. She feels gray on it, like all the color has been sapped right out of her. But numbness is better than the anxiousness that throttles her. At least her meds can temporarily make her forget him and the eight-month whirlwind of a past they shared together.

With stumbling fingers that shake with uncontrollable tremors, she manages to undo her locker. Her hands fumble as they search for the little orange bottle that right now, is her lifeline. She finds it, shoved into the back behind piles of books. As she picks it up, Rachel realizes something is wrong. The bottle has no weight; it's empty when only mere hours ago it had been filled.

The panic is becoming almost overwhelming at this point. A cold sweat shimmers on her skin and now it's not just her hands that shake but her whole body. She holds the bottle up, trying to understand how a whole month's worth of medication just disappears and that's when she sees it: a small scrap of paper burrowed up in the middle of the bottle.

Uneasiness mixes with her anxiety as she slowly pries open the lid. Her hand has stopped shaking and her fingers reach down, brush against the paper. She lifts it out, and slowly unfolds it. In a tiny, messy scrawl she reads the words. And then reads them again. They won't make you forget him. Like slow-working venom, the words take a while to process. Rachel can't make sense of the small sentence; it's a jumble in her brain, a mesh of wire that she can't untangle. They won't make you forget him.

She hears a giggle and Rachel's head jerks up, eyes rapidly scanning the hallway. But it's empty. No one is there. Goosebumps cascade down her arms and now her uneasiness is the dominant emotion.

With haste, she shoves the note into her pocket, tosses the empty pill bottle into her bag, and leaves the school as quickly as possible. Now, it is no longer her panic that chases her but a predator that lurks in the shadows, unseen and unknown.

Rachel pushes out of the school building and hobbles down the steps of William McKinley High. Her dad is waiting in a car a few feet away. She sees him and smiles, waving. Even from here Rachel can see the desperation in his eyes for his little girl to be okay. Gulping, Rachel slows her walk and tries to rid herself of the terror that's taken her hostage. She doesn't want to worry Hiram; she's put him through enough already.

Pulling open the passenger side door, Rachel eases into the front seat.

"Hey Rachel, how was your day today?" Hiram asks with earnest. Turning to him, she sees the worry he so desperately tries to hide from her. Hiram thinks that he has to set an example for her; that if he remains happy and relaxed those feelings will transfer into her.

Her lips press into a forced smile that Rachel prays her father doesn't see past. "Today was okay. I even managed to get through it without my medication. And we're practicing a new song in Glee Club."

"Oh Rachel, that's wonderful," Hiram says. He engulfs her in a tight hug that almost seems to knock the breath out of her. When he pulls away, Rachel notices the tears that are brimming in his eyes. Guilt creeps in on her, but she ignores it. What's one lie compared to giving her dad the relief he deserves? Hiram turns away, gives a sniff and brushes a hand against his face. He looks back to her, gives her a beaming smile, and then starts the car, heading them back home.

As they drive to their house, Hiram sings softly along to a tune Rachel doesn't recognize. She is now alone with her thoughts. Her fingers drum against her leg, and she can feel the small bump the note has created in her pocket. Who could have possibly sent it? Rachel has one suspect in mind, but the thought of it sends her heart lurching. He wouldn't...would he? He was her best friend. He wanted her to get better, but he could never be that cruel, never that manipulative... But still, if not him, then who else? Who else would want to mess with her head that badly? Her fingers trail up and come to rest on her right temple where she can already feel a blinding headache coming on. Her throat is dry and she can feel the dust of nausea coat her insides. It doesn't help that Hiram keeps taking furtive peeks at her, that happy smile still painted on his face. Rachel wonders how long she can hold onto her charade, because right now she's not even sure she's going to be able to last the car ride.

In an attempt to take her mind off whatever was going on, Rachel looks out the window to study the scenery. It was spring in Ohio, but a cold one. There is not the slightest trace of green. The trees spread their bare branches and shake in the cold. The whole town is desolate and empty, matching quite perfectly with how Rachel has felt for the past couple of months. She pictures her head as a land with gnarled black trees and gray skies, a barren wasteland.

"Are you hungry for anything? Want me to make scallions tonight?" Hiram asks. The word 'scallions' strikes a chord in her. She remembers a family dinner, the disaster it turned out to be. Her fingers clench into a fist and then release as Rachel fights back her tears. She needs her meds if just the mention of food will set her into a crying frenzy. A burning hatred fills her at whoever stole her pills. Whoever it was had to know how vital they were for Rachel and was clearly hoping to get some sick thrill over seeing her lose it without them. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

"No, Dad, I'm good. I shared a big lunch with Santana. She pretty much packs for a family of five when she and Brittany are having problems," Rachel says with a forced laugh. Her dad buys this lie easily, after all Santana and her appetite are well known with the Berry's. It was a love-hate relationship with the two.

After an eternity, they finally pull to a stop in the driveway. She jets out of the car. Rachel can't even bother to look back at her father as she quickly heads into the house. Through the front door, up the stairs, down the hall, and finally she is in her safe haven. She collapses onto her bed as her fingers dig into her pocket. She pulls out the note and reads it again. Closing her dark brown eyes, she screws them tight, fights back the tears, and slowly opens them. Her vision is blurry at first and then slowly adjusts, the paper still in her hand. It's pathetic that she was actually hoping, or more so wishing, that the note was a hallucination. But she can feel the gritty paper with the pads of her fingers and she knows this is no delusion; the note is real and so is whoever sent it to her.

Rachel lies back on her bed, resting her head on her soft fuzzy pink sheets. She needs to think, to analyze. The number one question that's buzzing around her mind like an angry bee is simply who? Who would write this? Who wanted to steal her medication? Rachel knew though that she wasn't going to uncover the mystery by thinking like that. She needs to focus on different questions. Like maybe what was the mystery person aiming for with the note? Was it to unnerve her? Was it to have her cause a scene in the hallway and to have kids think she was even more unhinged than they thought? Or...was it possible that the note writer was actually trying to help her? Maybe they thought she didn't need her pills to get over...him. Maybe they were trying to tell her that she was stronger than that. Rachel presses her hands over her eyes, frustration mounting. That made no sense.

They won't make you forget him. Rachel couldn't think anymore. Her head was throbbing; her stomach was a tangled knot. She shakily headed into her adjoining bathroom and pulled open the medicine cabinet. Thankfully she had an extra bottle of meds. She fished out two pills and swallowed them dry. She knew that this would knock her out, would lure her into a dark, dreamless sleep, but that was okay with her. Her mind needed a blank rest. She headed back to her room. The pills were already hitting her and she fell messily onto her bed. The last thing she saw before her eyes closed was the white strip of paper that seemed to grow and flux in her vision. And then, Rachel was out.


She awoke with a start, heart sprinting as if to burst from her chest. Her head was in disarray, confusion in every thought. She scrambled to remember what had happened before she'd passed out; her eyes fell on the paper that lay beside her. Frustrated and angry, she grabbed the paper, crinkled it in her small hand and threw it from her as if the distance would help. She rubbed her face with her hands and glanced over at her alarm clock. Neon blue lines formed themselves into 4:27am. Rachel stood up from her bed and began to pace. She began to think of him. With a gulp, Rachel finally allowed herself to think his name since she got the note. Finn. He'd been her saving grace turned worst nightmare. Finn had destroyed her. She knew that had never been his intention but still, she had let it happen.

"I hate you," Rachel whispered into the darkness, as if her words would travel through the night and into Finn Hudson's casket.

She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. She wouldn't be pitied by everyone at school, carefully watched and whispered about. She wouldn't be on meds, and she most certainly wouldn't be left to figure out cruel, obscure notes.

"I hate you," Rachel said again, but the words brought her no satisfaction, rather a stream of tears, because she didn't hate him. Not even close, and that would always be the problem. With great effort, she pushed her thoughts away from Finn. She needed to focus on the note and its sender.

She walked over to her desk and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. Quickly, she began to jot down a list of possible suspects and their intentions.

1. Kurt...because he's trying to help me(?)

2. Mercedes...because of...revenge(?)...also trying to help me(?)

3. Noah...because he never liked me with Finn

4. Santana...because she feels I have to deal with my own problems

5. Mystery person with possible cruel or good intentions

Rachel sat back in her desk chair and sighed. The list was unfounded. She felt vain for even thinking that all of these people were out to get her. She sat in her chair, mulling over her small list until sunlight began to seep through her blinds, slicing her room into light and dark stripes.

A knock broke her out of her thoughts.

"Rach, are you getting ready?" Leroy's voice asked, muffled by the door that separated him and his daughter.

"Yeah, dad," Rachel called. She stood up, hand on her list. She bit her lip, contemplating before she bent down and picked up the note. She balled it up and then shoved it into her backpack. She'd look over it again during class.

In an hour's time, she was being dropped off in front of William McKinley High. Students swarmed around like insects, and Rachel gazed around, searching for someone who was hopefully searching for her. The note writer had to know she had the note by now, had to know that she was inwardly freaking out; and the writer had to be watching for her reaction. But if anyone was watching her, Rachel didn't see him or her, for all eyes were carefully averted from her own. Bitterness filled her at this treatment; kids seemed to think that if they even looked at her they would catch her "crazy" like a plague.

Grinding her teeth, Rachel headed into the building, her goal now trying to locate Kurt. She was debating if she should show Kurt the note. She didn't like hiding things from her best friend, not to mention Kurt seemed to have some kind of radar for when Rachel was concealing things from him anyways. Still, she was nervous about Kurt's reaction. Would her friend brush it off? Or would he worry that Rachel was making the note up as some sort of crazy antic to somehow bring Finn back?

So lost in thought, Rachel paid no attention to where she was walking...or who she was walking into, until she banged right into another person.

"I'm sorry," Rachel and the girl said at the same time and then they both froze. Rachel couldn't break her eyes away from her blue ones. "I'm sorry," Rachel said again. She felt shaken and sick, and she had no idea why. Her brain was practically screaming the note! at her as she stared at this mystery girl. She had never seen her before.

"No, I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention," the girl said.

Rachel felt a sad happiness in her at the lack of judgment in this girl's eyes. She was probably new, Rachel decided. But once she found out about Rachel's horrible past, she would no longer look at her with friendly blue eyes and a warm smile, but rather scared and pitiful eyes like everyone else.

"No, it was my fault," Rachel said again, "I was just...I was thinking and wasn't really seeing the crowd, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," the girl said, "I'm Quinn."

"Rachel." Both girls smiled.

Suddenly the pair of them fell adrift into an awkward silence.

"I should get going," Quinn mumbled at last. Her blue eyes finally left her, and looked down. Her cheeks were the lightest shade of pink and with her eyes cast downward Rachel admired the delicate curl of her lashes.

"Wouldn't want to be late on my first day," Quinn continued after finally looking back at Rachel.

"Yeah, okay," said Rachel, snapping back to attention. She shuffled out of the way to let Quinn past; she scurried by, head down once again.

But not a second had past that Rachel's heard Quinn's voice once more from behind her.

She turned around, looking hesitant. She got the sick feeling that Quinn wasn't really new, that this had been some sick joke and she would laugh in her face like some of the others.

"Yes?" Rachel said, trying to hide her voice from sounding like a scared puppy.

"It was nice meeting you."

Quinn watched the brown of Rachel's eyes, as they shifted from suspicion to melting into a soft delight.

A smile, just the tiniest flicker of one graced Quinn's lips, and then she was turning, walking away. Alien emotions filled Rachel; in fact, these emotions were so far from the spectrum of feelings she had lately that it took her a while to place what it was.

Relief.

Content.

And finally, happiness.

She made her way down the hall, and stopped when she reached a trashcan. She tugged open her bag and pulled out the list and the note. Releasing them, she watched them float and disappear into the dark abyss and another wave of relief washed over her. Who cared who wrote the note? Rachel didn't. Whoever it was though, they had been right. Her pills wouldn't make her forget Finn, and she didn't want to forget him either. Their relationship had been a tumultuous one, but she had learned from it. The good times they'd shared, she would treasure them; remember them with a happy nostalgia. And the bad times...she'd look at them as lessons on how not to repeat her mistakes.

For the first time in a long time, a real smile graced Rachel's lips, and as she made her way towards class, she accepted the fact that it was time for a new beginning. She wasn't better yet, she knew that, but the knowledge that she would be was with her. All it had taken was those hopeful blue eyes to remind her.


A/N: I'm a bit more pleased with this chapter than the last. Who knows though, this one might have been crap too. But basically, this is setting up the stage for what this story is about. Btw, Rachel is far from "getting better". Heh. So yeah. Reviews please? Thanksies.