(AN: I would like to point out that grammar and other things maybe a little off her. Some will be human error, other's will be my way of trying to show the shock that Rachel goes through at Brittany's sudden death. Please be easy with me on grammar and other errors. Also, thier is time skips. This is due to the way time just seems to slip and you lose track of it when you're in a deep shock. I don't hate Brittany, she's my second favorite charater but she was the only one I could use that would have the effects that I wanted.

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own it. If I did, stuff like this would NEVER happen.))

"I swear… If you had anything to do with this…" I heard Santana's voice though the fog of my shock. "I will kill you myself."

Santana grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her rather than stare at Brittany. I could feel her nails digging into my chin. I didn't make a move to stop her.

"Do you hear me you little bitch?" Santana whispered in my face. "I. Will. End. You."

I didn't reply. I just stared at Santana. All my brain could think was how great of an actress Santana was. Maybe she didn't know about Brittany's joke? You couldn't fake that performance.

"Santana, stop." I heard Quinn say. "Rachel wouldn't hurt Brittany."

Santana released my chin and walked away. I just stared at the ground.

I prayed that God would take me instead. Just in case Brittany had…

No… I wasn't going to say that word. Just in case Brittany wasn't playing a joke.

Yes, that sounds much better. Much less final. The reasons behind this not being a practical joke were way more numerous.

I was one in a million, right?

There are over six billion people on this planet. If I was one in a million I wasn't as unique as I thought. There was only one Brittany. One and only. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Best dancer you will ever lay eyes on. I didn't want to be in a world that didn't have her brand of insanity.

My brain did the math. Six billion humans lived on the planet at the moment. There was one thousand millions in a billion. That meant one thousand people just like me walked this planet. No… I have to multiply by six. Six thousand people like me, if I was one in a million. And only one, single solitary Brittany. I was replaceable.

Exposable. No that's not the word… Expendable. Yes, I was expendable. Able to be tossed away.

Dispensable.

Superfluous.

Unessential.

Unneeded.

I was snapped out of my rambling thoughts by a paramedic walking past me. I watched as they put a blanket over Brittany, covering her face.

There was a small voice inside of me that wanted to tell them to uncover her face. How could she breathe with her face covered? This being a stupid joke and all.

Any time now, Brittany. No, right now is the time to wake up and say "GOTCHA!"

If you don't… You are going to be in a mess load of trouble when you do. The longer you keep this going the more trouble you'll get in.

OH! I realized why Brittany hadn't told us it was a joke. She realized how much trouble she's going to get into and now she was scared. Brittany knew she had taken her practical joke too far.

If you wake up now… We swear we won't be mad at you. I'll keep Santana away long enough you can run behind Puck and Lauren. We'll breathe a sigh of relief and then go home realizing now how great of an actress you really are. You'll always have my respect. You'll see how much our group cares for you. Just get up now… Please?

I hugged my knees close to my body. Deep in my heart I knew it wasn't a joke. Brittany wasn't a good actress. They weren't talking about color dyes. And kids our age did drop dead at the drop of a hat.

Before I could stop it I remember that earlier that year the news mentioned something about a couple of basketball players who had heart attacks and just died right their on the courts. No signs and symptoms. Just died.

I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts. That stuff happened didn't happen here. That happened to nameless and faceless kids in some other places.

Kids I KNEW didn't drop down dead. That stuff just didn't happen.

Everyone was sitting on the ground around me. Santana cried softly to herself. When Quinn put a hand on her shoulder she pushed it away. Quinn hugged herself.

We were alone in our shock. Even Lauren looked like she was in shock. The girl that was as tough as they come, would make Santana cower in fear. Lauren Zizies had tears in her eyes and looked like a scared little girl.

Fear and shock registered in everyone's eyes. No one comforted anyone else. We were together yet alone in this madness. The ones you were supposed to count on the most were the first ones to abandon you when they were involved in the same world of confusion and shock.

Stop thinking that way… I thought to myself. This isn't about you! You just talked about stupid angels and river dancing with her. It's not like she was your best friend. You just had a few conversations. You paid her to use her personality to raise your status on the social ladder. You could hardly call her a friend.

I looked at my friends sitting with me on that ice cold asphalt. We were all alone in a group of people. Suddenly that saying made perfect sense. I was surrounded by 12… No, 11 of my closest friends. And I had never felt so alone in my life.

"Are you Rachel?" Someone asked. I jumped out of my thoughts.

I looked up at the woman who had asked me the question.

When did the police get here?

I looked around again. There were several police cars surrounding us. Two were near the bus. I could see a couple of officers actually on the bus. How long had I been sitting there thinking to myself?

I pushed my hair out of my face, realizing that my hair was damp and I had water dripping off my hair. When did it start raining? I pulled the blanket around my shoulders tighter, wondering where the blanket had come from.

I looked back at the officer and nodded. I stood up, thinking I should just go to the bus and grab my jacket, I was shivering so hard now my teeth were sore because how hard they were chattering. Then I remember that Brittany had just… I still couldn't get myself to say that one single word. I just couldn't go on that bus. It was defiled and contaminated. I had other coats and cloths at home. I could always get a new iPod or music books. Everything on that bus was infected now, there was no way I was going to touch any of it ever again.

I looked at my hands. They had touched Brittany, when I tried to wake her up. They felt greasy and gross. I clinched my fists tightly, trying to make sure not to touch anything and infect it as well.

I had never been a germaphobe. There was just something about it all. It wasn't about germs or microbs. It felt more like a curse. If I touched something I would be spreading the curse.

"Do you think you can come with me? To answer a few questions?" The police woman asked kindly, pulling me out of my thoughts once more.

I looked back around me. Various members of our group were talking to other officers. I nodded and stood up. The officer led me back to the open ambulance, which I set down at the end of.

"You were the last person to talk to her?" The officer asked.

I nodded. I stopped myself suddenly. To confirm that I was just confirming that Brittany was dead. The die was die and not dye.

"Do you want to tell me what you were talking about?"

I shook my head. That was personal, between me and Brittany. It was something only we shared. If and that was a big if Brittany was gone that was something I could cherish. To share that would taint the moment.

"It's alright…" The woman said softly.

There was something off about the woman. Something that made me want to just lock myself up and ignore her. It wasn't that she was mean or ugly. She was very pretty. The officer was obviously of mixed race. She was lighter than Mercedes but not as light as me. Darker than Santana.

She had dark freckles on her nose and cheeks. The idea that if you could somehow combined all of the genes of the girls in the group that the resulting person would be the lady standing in front of me.

"Rachel?"

I looked at the officer. She had a bottle of saline water in one hand. "I'm going to wash off your knees. You scraped them up pretty good."

I looked at my knees. I hadn't noticed them. There was dried blood covering my knees and legs.

I just nodded. The officer worked on my legs for a second.

Mr. Shue pulled the woman to the side for just a moment. The officer put the gauze she was using on the ambulance floor to talk to him. I stared at the gauze. The blood on it was dark red, almost brown. Then I noticed the stinging coming from my scraped knees.

At least you can still bleed, Rachel… I told myself. I shook the thought that Brittany will never feel the sting another skinned knee. You'll get to go on and do that pathetic attempt of what you call dancing.

I shook the voice inside my head away. That wasn't the way to think… This could still be one of Brittany's poor attempts at a joke.

I heard Mr. Shue explain to the officer.

"She was raised by two gay men. She's not really had a woman in her life, you may get her to open up if you attempted to have a male talk to her."

I wanted to yell at Mr. Shue. The officer's gender had nothing to do with why I didn't want to talk to the woman. Couldn't I just flat out didn't want to talk? What's so wrong with that?

I watched the officer walk away and talk to one of the paramedics.

Together they walked back to me.

"Rachel?" The man said. "My name is Robert."

Robert this time took his turn at cleaning up my knees. By the sound of his voice he sounded gay. He reminded me of my Daddy in some ways. He too was black with green eyes. Even though I didn't want to, I felt myself relax a little.

"River dancing." I said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Robert asked.

I looked at the officer. "We talked about River Dancing. The lightening, Brittany said the angels were River Dancing. Every time they stomped their feet it made sparks."

"Did she say anything about just not feeling right?"

I shook my head. "No. We talked about the angels holding a dancing competition because they knew she would be where she could see it the best. I drifted off to sleep after that."

"Thank you."

The officer turned to walk away. "Ma'am?"

The officer turned to face me. As much as I didn't want to ask and get the answer I was dreading there was something inside me that needed to know for sure. "Brittany isn't pulling a practical joke is she?"

The officer's face softened. "I'm sorry… No she's not."

I just nodded. Part of me knew I should probably cry now. But I still felt just way too numb to do it.

"Can I have something to wash my hands with? I touched her…" I looked at my hands which were still clinched in fists.

Neither the police woman nor Robert looked at me like I was weird. They seemed to understand exactly what I meant. It had nothing to do with Brittany herself. I loved Brittany. It was the feeling that I had touched death itself and I could feel it crawling on the palms of my hands.

Robert handed me several packages of alcohol wipes. I tore into the first one and wiped every micrometer or my right hand until the first wipe dried. Then I opened the second one and started on my left hand, making sure that I didn't miss a single spot. The alcohol dried, leaving my hands feeling dry and feeling like leather, but they didn't feel greasy any longer.

I love looking at my hands closely to see if maybe I had missed a spot when I heard a familiar voice say my name.

I saw my Daddy first. He was taller and pretty much surfing through a crowed of white people.

"Daddy!" I said. I pushed my way off the ambulance and ran toward him as fast as I could, almost tripping.

Dad was right next to him. I ran into their arms, happy as I ever thought I would be to see them. It was then and only then that I started crying. I cried for all I was worth into my Daddy's shirt with my Dad patting my back.

"It's alright Baby Girl. It's alright…" Daddy repeated over and over.

After a few minutes of crying, maybe a few hours… I don't really know. I did realize that a number of our parents were there. Mercedes, Quinn and Tina were all leaning on their mothers.

Ms. Puckerman was leaning on Noah's arm. It was hard to tell who was comforting how there. Santana was holding tightly to her stepmother while Dr. Lopez hugged both of them. Mrs. Evens was standing next to Sam, both of Mikes parents were standing near Tina and her mother. Mr. Zizes was hugging Lauren. Mr. and Mrs. Abrams were standing next to Artie and his chair.

There was only one set of parents missing. I wanted to see them, but I didn't.

There was a flash of red hair and I realized I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. I was about to see a parent's worst nightmare come true for Mrs. Pierce. The worst day in the woman's life was about to play out before my eyes.

All these parents here, they still had their children. My heart broke for Mrs. Pierce and even more so as I saw Mr. Peirce behind her. Mrs. Peirce put her hand on her face. My dads and I watched as the police officers explained to them that their beautiful, wonderful daughter was lying on the asphalt covered by a sheet.

I looked back toward the bus and that's when I realized that Brittany's sheet covered body wasn't there any longer. When did they move it? How out of it could I possibly be? Where did they take Brittany?

The sound of Mrs. Peirce's shock, crying and questioning brought me out of my thoughts once more.

Their shock and reaction only made my sense of loss dig deeper into my heart. The shock was starting to wear off slowly like fog in the morning time and was being slowly replaced by guilt. I really would rather it had been me. I would have hated seeing my fathers' reaction, but honestly… I wouldn't have had to. I would be dead. I wouldn't be here watching the Peirce family fall apart and all the other parents' faces as they picture what would happen if this was truly their nightmare.

For the first time in my life, I doubted my faith in God. What kind of God would take someone like Brittany who made the world worth living? And leave a spoiled rotten little brat behind like me? I was selfish, self-centered… And Brittany? She was naive and thoughtful. Brittany was a simple girl that took joys in the simple things. I was greedy and kept wanting more and more.

Brittany took the time to look at the lightening. To understand it in her whole unique way. I had to have an iPod, a blanket and sleep and used those things to drown it out. I only moved to the beat. Brittany danced, the beat moved her…

(AN2: If anyone wants is wondering, in my mind's eye I see Reba McEntire as Brittany's mother. I think the reaction between the two would be off the charts funny. Please read and review so I know if I should keep the story going beyond chap. three or just end it there.)