Chapter 26: Fragile Hearts

She drops the chopsticks and lifts the report, rereading it. "No, this can't be right." Tamera mutters to herself. She turns to the lab tech, who is waiting patiently. "This can't be right. Run her bloodwork again."

He seemed to be expecting it. "I did, Dr. Morgan. Three times. Those are accurate."

Seeing her reluctant acceptance of his assessment, the tech heads back to the lab. Tamera is still staring off into space, debating how to handle this new development, when Nurse Hunter walks up next to her. Without a word, she hands him the results.

"There are only two possible explanations. Neither are good." He remarks with a despondent sigh.

She agrees with his assessment, and yet….."I'd bet my entire salary on which one it is."

"You really think so?"

Memories of the many times this girl has been in the hospital spring to mind. "We're only human, Hunter. There's only so much we can take before we crack."

"Are you going to talk them tonight?"

"They've already had a rough day. They need a night of rest to let things settle down. If I go in now, Shelby won't rest. Besides, Rachel won't be up for it until morning. I'll let Dr. Abdallah know to let me handle it tomorrow."

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Shelby stepped out and called her family, informing them of the situation. It was decided that Kelly and Andy would come right away and their parents would come the next day. Mark and Amy wanted to come, but Shelby assured them it wasn't necessary. They have plenty of support and assuming all goes well, they'll be together for Passover in a couple days, anyway. Scott had gone home to pack a bag for all of them and to check on Yero. Finn had arrived as soon as he'd been told. Her daughter's boyfriend is a tall, muscular teenage boy. Quarterback of the football team. He is a force to be reckoned with. And yet, while staring at his unconscious girlfriend and knowing what transpired, he wilts. He looks like a stiff breeze could blow him over. He presses his lips to her forehead before turning to Shelby.

"She can call me at any time. If she wants to talk or something."

Shelby rubs his back. "She knows, honey. We know. I don't think she'll be up much tonight, okay? But I promise, if she wants to talk to you, we'll let her call."

"Thanks."

Burt and Carole take their boys home after eliciting a similar promise from Shelby. Finally alone with just her daughter, Shelby leans forward, rests her head on the bed, and closes her eyes. She listens to the beep of the monitor mimicking the beat of her daughter's heart. She hates that it's still fluctuating. She's not going to be able to sleep until it's steady. The memories of the evening's events threaten to overwhelm her. This isn't the time or place to fall apart. If she gets upset and Rachel wakes up, she'll be upset. That can't happen. Her heart is too fragile right now. And that is a whole new level of terror. Right now, she needs her child to recover. Then she can worry about what caused it and what the next steps will be. A hand on her back has her jerking up.

"Sorry." Scott whispers while setting down the bag. "I thought you were asleep."

"I can't. I can't sleep listening to the inconsistent beeps. They need to be steady before I can go to sleep."

Scott's expression is full of understanding and sympathy. "You need to rest. Rachel is going to need you to be at full energy."

"She nearly died tonight, Scott. From a fucking treatment."

He pulls her into him. "I know. I was there. But she didn't. She's still here."

His arms are a safe haven. She wishes she had a couple minutes to let herself fall apart. After Rachel wakes up and is out of the woods, she'll step out long enough to vent. She realizes she's either going to have to do it willingly or it's going to happen at a bad time. Proving her point, she hears a soft groan from Rachel. She pulls back from Scott and both adults lean forward, giving their full attention to the child on the bed. Rachel's eyes flutter, then open. Shelby grabs her closest hand while Scott leans across to grab her far hand.

"Mom?"

"Yeah, baby girl?"

Rachel's eyes roll, but then she blinks hard and seems to be able to focus on them. Her fingers curl around Shelby's. The teenager's eyes take in her surroundings, then return to the adults sitting next to her.

"'M in hospl?"

"Yeah."

"Ky go home?"

"Not yet."

Tears fill Rachel's eyes. "Please?"

The monitor beeps. Between her tears and her heart rate, Shelby's own heart is racing. "Oh, honey, it's okay." Very carefully, mindful of Rachel's bruise and all the wires and IV lines, Shelby slides onto the bed and pulls her daughter into her arms. She gently rubs her back and rests her head on hers. She lightly rocks her. "It's okay, sweetheart, it's alright. Just relax for me, okay? I need you to close your eyes and take some breaths."

Rachel's eyes scrunch shut and after a couple shaky breaths, they even out. As Shelby continues to coo and comfort her, Rachel's face slowly relaxes. Shelby uses her thumb to wipe away the tears under her daughter's eyes. When the heart monitor shows her heart slowing down, Shelby's own heart relaxes. Scott wipes a hand over his face and lets go of the call button that Shelby hadn't even noticed him grab. Shelby hums for a couple more minutes before she's sure Rachel's asleep again. There's a soft knock at the door. Kelly and Andy walk in. Shelby is quick to signal for silence. Her sister and brother-in-law hug her and greet Scott quietly. Kelly kisses Rachel's forehead, then jerks her head towards the door. Shelby reluctantly follows her big sister out into the hallway.

"How is she?"

Shelby blows out a breath. "Better. Her heart is slowly becoming more steady. They're still worried that something could cause her heart rate to increase again, but she should be fine."

"That's good. How are you doing, Shel?"

For a moment, she can't answer. She presses her lips together firmly and breathes in shakily through her nose until she feels she can speak. "I thought my days of watching my daughter nearly die were over." Kelly hugs her tight. Words and tears come tumbling out. "I can't do this again, Kel. I thought I was strong enough, but I'm not."

"You are."

Shelby shakes her head fiercely. "She was fine and then she said she felt weird and then her heart monitor went crazy and she was struggling to take full breaths and the nurse was calling for help and then her heart rate dropped from like 140 to fucking 12 and the doctor had to slam his fist on her chest to jumpstart her heart and then we were racing here and it was chaotic and it—I just—it was—she—Kel I can't do this."

Kelly pulls her further away from the room before grabbing her face. "Look at me, Shelly. You experienced something shocking and frightening. It was understandably traumatic. It is completely normal for you to be shaken. You need to have a good cry and a good night of sleep. Then you'll feel calmer and stronger and realize you can absolutely handle this with the same aplomb you've been handling it with all along."

With that, her sister pulls her in for another firm embrace. Shelby buries her face in her neck and lets herself cry. Not meltdown, not fall to pieces or become as hysterical as she feels, but she lets herself release enough of the emotions billowing inside of her to be more in control. When she's calmer, she pulls away.

"I think, for the first time, I truly understand what Rachel was feeling when she found out she had Danton's again. She was hysterical, saying she didn't want to do it again. I get it. I mean I got it then, but now I really understand it. How I'm feeling has to be similar to what she was feeling. I just hope to God she doesn't feel this way often. If she does, she hasn't let on so she's either even stronger than I knew or a better actress than I thought."

"I think if her emotions got this strong, you'd know."

"Unless she's shoving them down and bottling them up."

"So talk to her. After she recovers. Speaking of, do we know what caused this yet?"

"No." Shelby accepts the tissue offered to her and blows her nose. "I'm guessing we'll find out tomorrow. But Dr. Morgan said the test results may not be conclusive, so who knows."

"How long will Rachel be in the hospital?"

"I don't know. I'd assume until her heart has recovered, but what if it's permanent damage? Or caused some other—"

"Stop speculating. You're just going to stress yourself out even more. Look, Andy and I need to leave in a minute. The nurses already told us we couldn't stay long. We're going back to your house, so we'll be close by. I know I won't be able to convince you to go home, so try to get some sleep here. If you need a break, or to talk, or anything at all, call me. We'll come back in the morning and Mom and Dad will be here, too."

"Okay. Thanks, Kelly."

The Winters say their goodbyes and head out. Scott encourages her to at least lay down on the cot. She's surprised when she wakes up two hours later. She hadn't thought she'd be able to sleep at all. As it is, she woke up in a cold sweat and immediately felt the need to check on Rachel. Scott is sitting next to the bed and whispering to Rachel, who is awake.

"—can't tonight, but if you're here for long I'll bring in something I can hook up to the tv here. Then we can watch Firefly or Buffy or something better than these crappy shows."

Sure enough, the tv is quietly playing a shopping show, where a middle aged woman with way too much makeup is trying to convince viewers to purchase a rather odd looking dress. Shelby releases a breath and runs her hands through her hair, hoping she doesn't look as sweaty as she feels. Scott glances over at her.

"And your Mom's awake now, so you can ask her."

"Ask me what?" Shelby sits in the chair on the other side of the bed.

"Who buys clothes off the tv? Can you return it if it doesn't fit?" Rachel asks quietly.

Shelby blinks. "That's what you wanted to know?"

"I'm bored."

She smiles. "But feeling better, I see."

She's no longer slurring her words, she's speaking in full, coherent sentences, and she's down to a nasal cannula. Unfortunately that's the extent of the improvement. She's still incredibly pale, her words were slow and soft, and she looks exhausted. A glance at the monitor shows her heart rate is lower than when Shelby went to sleep but still higher than normal. Especially considering she's just been lying in bed for hours.

"Yeah, so can I go home now?"

"Rachel, when have you ever been discharged from the hospital after midnight?"

"Never." Comes the grumbled response.

Shelby kisses her cheek. "Have you eaten?"

"They're bringing her something soon. She hasn't been awake for long."

"And yet they said I have to go back to sleep after I eat."

Shelby arches an eyebrow. "You're upset about that?"

"It's annoying. I'm not some little kid."

"But you're bored, it's after midnight, and you're clearly tired. What else are you planning on doing, tap dancing?" Rachel's eyes drop and she bites her lip. Shelby frowns. "What? What is it?"

Scott clears his throat. "The nurses made it abundantly clear that her feet are not allowed to touch the floor. She wasn't too happy to hear that."

"Well tough, kid. You will do exactly as the doctors and nurses tell you. And you will not do anything that could possibly impede your recovery."

Rachel gives her an odd look. "I wouldn't."

"I know, honey, at least not intentionally. You do have a habit of being stubborn and doing things your way. And it's not always the right way, despite what you think." Rachel's eyes widen ever so slightly and a hint of panic shines from within. Shelby straightens, her spine tingling and eyes narrowing. "What?" Her daughter doesn't speak, but her expression eases back to normal. Unfortunately for her, the sudden slight spike in her heart rate tells the truth. "Rachel? Tell me."

The monitor gives a short bleep as her heart jumps again. Rachel opens her mouth but before she can utter a word, a nurse enters the room carrying a smoothie.

"Here you go, Rachel. Sorry it took so long. Meals are over, but I was able to snag a meal replacement smoothie for you."

"Thank you."

She glances at Shelby, then drinks her smoothie. The nurse checks the monitor and frowns. "You haven't been moving, have you?"

"No."

The nurse eyes the three of them speculatively. "Look, Rachel's out of the woods. However, we still don't want to do anything to risk causing another spike. An upsetting conversation could do that. So, parents, please hold off on any potentially upsetting conversations tonight. Until Dr. Morgan has had a chance to further examine Rachel and speak to you both, play it safe."

Shelby nods. As soon as the monitor had beeped, the recollection of why the doctors don't want Rachel talking came rushing back. Anything too emotional could cause a spike and that's the last thing Shelby wants to be the cause of. Her little girl is definitely hiding something and she will figure out what. After her daughter recovers and is strong enough to handle the conversation and any potential emotional fallout. Scott changes the channel to an old western movie. Rachel makes a face but the man shrugs.

"You're gonna be asleep soon anyway. What do you care what I watch?"

Rachel grins a little. "I thought you only watched space westerns."

Shelby chuckles. "Finish drinking so you can go to sleep."

It doesn't take long at all. The styrofoam cup is slipping from her lax hand, her eyes closed and head sinking forward within minutes. Shelby takes it from her and sets it on the nightstand. Scott helps her get Rachel lying back more comfortably and they lower the bed. They shut off the lights.

"You should go back to sleep." Scott tells her.

"I can't. You should, though. You haven't slept at all yet."

After a little reluctance, Scott kisses her and lays on the cot. Shelby positions her chair as close to the bed as she can get without risking being in a nurse's way, then curls up. While she did manage to doze she woke frequently, worried that Rachel needed her. Scott couldn't sleep either and retook his seat. Rachel woke several times, as well. Each time, her heart rate fluctuated. Shelby would hum to soothe her back to sleep. The third time she woke, Shelby had had to climb on the bed again to hold her to calm her down. Scott had given up trying to get her to sleep on the cot at that point and just covered them both with a blanket. The nurses, used to situations like this, worked around her when checking Rachel's vitals. Shelby slept her longest stretch of the night while holding her daughter.

In the morning, Shelby was woken by the smell of coffee. Opening her eyes, she found she's still on the bed with Rachel. Her sister and brother-in-law are chatting quietly with Scott while passing around coffee. They must have just arrived. Rachel is curled against her in sleep. Shelby gently runs her fingers through her hair and checks the heart rate monitor. It's better than last night. Seeing what she's doing, Scott attempts to reassure her.

"Dr. Abdallah came through after you finally fell asleep last night and again this morning. She said Rachel's doing better. Even though she's out of the woods, they still want to limit visitors."

She glances at Kelly and Andy. "But they're allowed to stay."

"Not for long. They don't want too many people in here at once. They also said no kids and everyone, even us, have to be prepared to leave the room if her heart starts racing."

"Do they think that's likely?"

"At this point, they only think it'd happen if an external cause sparks it."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning if she tries to walk or move too much, it could cause her heart rate to increase. Or if someone upsets her, or even makes her laugh too much, it could happen."

"How long was I sleeping?"

Scott kisses her cheek. "I know it sounds like you missed a lot, but you didn't. I got all that from the last time Dr. Abdallah was in here, which was half an hour ago."

She nods her understanding. Kelly kisses her cheek as well and points out where she set her coffee. She carefully slides off the bed and stretches out the kink in her back. These beds seriously aren't comfortable. Her sister takes the opportunity to hug her tight. Shelby leans into her big sister.

"Thank you for being here." She whispers.

"Of course I'm here, you moron." Kelly chides softly. "Mom and Dad will be here later."

Kelly gently strokes Rachel's hair back and kisses her forehead, then she and Andy leave. Scott is reluctant to go to work. He insists he can take the day off, but Shelby promises to call him if they need him or if anything happens. They compromise; he'll leave after Rachel wakes up.

"Besides," Shelby tells him, "I think we're going to need you more after she's released."

Scott's eyes lighten with understanding. "Right. Good point."

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Tamera Morgan taps her fingers on the pharmacy counter and sighs. It's going to be a tough day, but she's hoping she can take some steps to help mitigate the fallout. Dr. Abdallah steps up next to her.

"Good morning, Tamera. I didn't realize you had already arrived."

"This is my first stop. I want to pick up a sedative before I talk to Rachel Berry and family."

Dr. Abdallah quirks an eyebrow. "A sedative? For our patient or her mother?"

Tamera stares at her for a moment, then turns to the pharmacist and gets his attention. "Make it two sedatives."

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"But why?!"

"Kurt, the why doesn't matter. Just—"

"Actually, it does! I've always been allowed to visit with Rachel when she's in the hospital! The only time I couldn't was when she was in the ICU. Is she in the ICU?"

"No, but they're monitoring her very closely."

"I won't get in the way!"

Burt sighs and squeezes the bridge of his nose. He understands his son's frustration and worry. They're equal to his own. The only difference between them is Burt has permission to visit with Rachel while Kurt doesn't.

"I will call you and keep you updated. But the doctors made it clear; she is to have limited visitors and no children. Not even teenagers."

Kurt slams his cup down on the kitchen counter and storms out of the room with trembling lips. Burt understands that Kurt's anger is fueled by fear. They don't know what happened yesterday. Rachel nearly died during a treatment and no one knows why. Now she's in the hospital and supposedly doing better, but isn't allowed to have her usual visitors. Nothing about this is familiar or normal. It's setting them all on edge. He moves his attention to the other teenager in the kitchen. Finn is standing a couple feet away, leaning back against the fridge with his arms crossed.

"So we can't see her at all?"

Burt shakes his head. "Not until the doctor gives the all clear."

"Why? I don't get it."

"Neither do I, Finn. But I promise I'll keep you two informed and tell you everything I can. Alright? I need to stop at the shop briefly, but then I'll head to the hospital so hopefully I'll have some information for you by this afternoon. You going out today?"

Finn shrugs. "I dunno. Maybe."

"I think it'd be a good idea. Hang out with friends and let them distract you."

"Yeah, I guess."

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Shelby glances down at Rachel to check her reaction before returning her gaze to her phone. She's sitting on the bed with her daughter and they're watching a video on her phone. Rachel is leaning against her side and they're each sharing one earbud from Shelby's headphones. Rachel's heart has been calm and steady this morning, it's finally at a normal bpm, but they need to make sure it stays that way, so Shelby has been careful to keep things calm while still finding a way to entertain her daughter. Kelly and Andy are both working remotely from Shelby's house today, but they're nearby and ready to come to the hospital at any time. Scott reluctantly went to work, and Burt and her parents should be here soon. They'll help keep Rachel entertained without letting her get too excited. A knock on the door distracts her from the video. Dr. Morgan enters the room holding a folder. Shelby quickly stops the video and puts her phone and headphones on the nightstand. She also climbs off the bed and retakes her seat.

"Good morning. How are you feeling, Rachel?"

"I feel a lot better."

Dr. Morgan sets two things down on the medical tray; a syringe and a small plastic cup holding a pill. She pours some water into a cup and sets it on the tray as well, then moves it out of the way. "That's good to hear."

"So can I go home now?"

"Not just yet."

Shelby rolls her eyes. They will not be leaving until they know, or have some idea of, why Rachel's body reacted to her treatment so violently the day before. They need answers. They need to make sure this doesn't happen again. Dr. Morgan presses her stethoscope to Rachel's chest and listens. She seems satisfied with what she hears and continues her exam.

"Let's talk." She says while taking a seat. "We ran your numbers, as usual. Your red blood cell count dropped significantly. But the bigger surprise was the number that went up. Your white blood cell count is in a normal, healthy range."

Shelby's heart lightens. This is good news. Her kid is getting better. Rachel smiles brightly at the doctor.

"That's great!"

The solemn look on the doctor's face says otherwise. "No, Rachel. It's not."

"What do you mean? You said her numbers are in a normal, healthy range. How isn't that a good thing?" Shelby questions.

"Because for her, it's dangerous. The white blood cells are an important part of your immune system. They help fight off infections or anything they deem an infection or foreign body. That includes new blood from a blood transfusion and certain medications. Such as the medications that are part of Rachel's treatment."

Shelby's mind races. "So the increase in white blood cells is fighting off her treatment?"

"Essentially."

"Is that why her body reacted the way it did yesterday?"

"Yes. Yesterday, a battle occurred in her body. White blood cells versus her treatment. And with her body's increase of white blood cells, there were more….soldiers….to fight with. It was a massive battle."

"So," Rachel frowns, "with my body having more white blood cells, there were more soldiers to fight against the new blood and medicine?"

"Correct. Normally, your body tries to fight off what it sees as an intrusion with just a few soldiers cells. The treatment is easily able to overpower the white blood cells and force your body to accept the treatment. This is a large part of why you feel sick after a treatment. Your body is fighting it off, but the treatment inevitably wins. The few white blood cells put up a fight but are always conquered in the end. But lately, they've been getting more and more soldiers to join the fight, which has escalated the battles and made them more violent. And now we know why."

"So what's causing the increase in white blood cells?"

"There are two possibilities. I think I know which one it is, but I could be wrong." Dr. Morgan gives Shelby a sidelong look before focusing on Rachel. "When did you stop taking your medication?"

A steel bat slamming into her gut could not have knocked the air from her any faster. She wanted to protest. She wanted to accuse the doctor of being ridiculous. Because there is no way in hell her daughter would do something so stupid and reckless. Rachel is determined to survive. She promised she was doing everything she could to get better. She promised she was fighting for her life. She promised. But the blood draining from Rachel's face and the blip from the heart monitor indicating a sudden spike contradicts all arguments.

"What?" Shelby rasps.

Dr. Morgan glances at her. "Like I said, there are two possibilities. Either her body isn't responding to the medication anymore or she stopped taking it. So, which is it?"

Rachel's hands are gripping the blanket over her lap. Her jaw is clenched but that's all Shelby can tell from the angle the girl's head is dipped at, hiding her expression.

"Rachel, we need to know which one it is. It makes a big difference. Did you stop taking your medicine?"

"Rachel…." Shelby stammers. She wouldn't.

The girl slowly lifts her head. Tears swim in her eyes. "Yes."

No. There's a crushing sensation in her chest. Her hands release their grip on the arms of the chair to cover her mouth. She sucks in a ragged breath. This can't be happening. Despite the chair she's sitting on, Shelby feels like there's suddenly nothing below her and she's falling fast. Her heart is a battering ram slamming against her chest.

"How long?" She chokes out the words through her tightening throat. There's no answer. Her daughter is looking down again, her face scrunched up against tears. No, she's not avoiding this. They need answers. She asks again, her anger making her tone sharper. "How long, Rachel?"

Rachel cringes and mumbles her response. "A couple weeks."

Shelby shoots up from the chair and takes a couple steps away with her back to her daughter and the doctor. Weeks. Shelby takes several gasping breaths. Her daughter hasn't taken her medicine in weeks. When she feels like she can talk without screaming, she turns around.

"Why?" The broken tone pulls Rachel's eyes to hers. She can see the regret, fear, and sadness within. It does nothing to calm the emotions raging inside her. Anger takes control. "Goddamnit, Rachel, do you want to die?!"

"No! I want to live!"

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Ladies—" Dr. Morgan's attempt to intercede fails.

"Only because you don't understand what this is like!" Rachel pushes herself up so she's sitting up and glares defiantly at her.

Shelby takes a single step closer to the bed and glares right back. She doesn't trust herself to get within touching distance of her child right now. "What are you talking about?! I've been by your side every step of the way!"

"But you don't experience it first hand!"

"I'm still here with you through it! And we've talked about it!" Their discussion from days ago leaps to the forefront of her mind and her anger spikes. "We just talked about it! You swore to me you would do everything in your power to get better! You promised!"

"I know! And I meant it!"

"How?! How can you say you meant it when you've been doing the exact opposite?! You could have died, Rachel!"

"I didn't mean for this to happen!" Tears stream down her face.

"Ladies—" Again, the doctor is ignored.

Fury is making her shake. "How could you be so stupid?! How could you do something so dangerous?! How coul—"

"I-I'm s-s-sorry!" Rachel cries, sobs shaking her body. She falls back against the bed and curls on her side. "I j-just wa-wan—"

"Enough!"

Dr. Morgan is out of her seat and leaning over Rachel with her stethoscope, her eyes on the monitor. Shelby's stomach plummets so fast that bile is forced up her throat. She swallows it down. The anger and horror had been clouding everything, including the beeps from the heart monitor. Rachel's heart is racing. Guilt joins her other emotions and the mother crumbles. Tears of horror and despair pour down her face. She stumbles to the side and grabs the back of a chair to stay upright. Dr. Morgan is talking to Rachel but the words don't reach Shelby's ears. There's a roaring sound drowning out everything else. A nurse rushes past her and joins the doctor at the bed. Dr. Morgan picks up the syringe she'd brought in earlier and pulls off the cap. She injects whatever is inside right into Rachel's IV line. Her daughter is sobbing and struggling to breathe. The nurse swaps out her nasal cannula for a mask.

"Mm-o-om—"

She can't. She can't watch this. She can't stay in this room with her child for a moment longer. She is so angry and so hurt and so….Shelby turns and leaves. She hurries down the hall with fast, uneven steps. She gets around a corner and has to lean against the wall. She slides down it and covers her face with her hands, sobbing hysterically.

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Debra Corcoran walks down the hospital hallway holding her husband's hand. She can't say she was too surprised to get the call, but she was upset. It's been a while since Rachel was rushed to the hospital and they can't deny that she's getting worse. They've almost been expecting it despite hoping it wouldn't happen. However, she expected the call to be about a severe attack or something similar. Not for a completely unknown reason. Not being told their granddaughter's heart almost stopped during a treatment, the thing that's supposed to be making her better. She'd wanted to rush here last night, but Chris had convinced her there was no point. They wouldn't get there until after visiting hours, they were limiting visitors, and their girls had enough support for the night. Chris was worried they'd just be in the way and that's the last thing they wanted. So they agreed to come today instead. It was still a rough night for them. They both had a hard time sleeping, kept waking up thinking they'd heard their phones go off, and when they did sleep it was fitful. Kelly had called her and updated her this morning. At that time, they were still limiting visitors. They are hoping that the visitor restrictions are lifted by now.

Further ahead of them in the hallway they see Shelby hurrying past, hand over her mouth, crying her eyes out and barely able to walk in a straight line. Husband and wife share a worried look. Without a word, they come to an agreement; divide and conquer. Christopher kisses her and hurries after their daughter. Debra picks up her own pace and heads to their granddaughter's hospital room, terrified of what she'll find inside. Dr. Morgan and a nurse are leaning over her unconscious granddaughter. Rachel's placid face is wet with tears.

"What happened?"

Dr. Morgan turns to her. "Mrs. Corcoran, right? We just discovered that Rachel stopped taking her medicine a couple weeks ago. Shelby was understandably upset and their discussion on the matter was enough to put too much stress on Rachel's heart. She's better, but we still need to be careful not to cause her heart rate to increase too much."

"Did she pass out?" She cautiously comes further into the room.

"No. We had to sedate her." Dr. Morgan nods to the nurse, who leaves the room. "I also have a sedative here for Shelby, if she needs it."

"She might. We saw her in the hall, she was hysterical. My husband went to comfort her." Her eyes move to Rachel. She grabs a tissue and gently dries her cheeks. "She really stopped taking her medicine?"

"Yes."

"That must have killed Shelby." She can feel her own anger and horror welling up. "Why would she do this?"

"We didn't get much of an explanation from her yet. That'll have to wait until she's awake and calmer." Dr. Morgan looks to the door, then back to her. "However, I've seen similar situations before. My guess is she either truly didn't know the full importance of the medication or she has decided to stop fighting but didn't want to let anyone know."

Debra blinks away tears. She lightly brushes Rachel's hair back off her forehead. "I think you're right. I think it could easily be either of those. What do we do?"

"If she didn't know just how much her body needs that medicine to survive, we'll explain it to her and figure out how to fix the damage she inadvertently caused."

"Can you?"

"We'll try our best." She says grimly.

"And if she….doesn't want to…."

Dr. Morgan sighs deeply. "We'd get her counseling specifically for that. It's not uncommon among patients with life threatening illnesses. Especially if it isn't their first time dealing with it. But how exactly we handle it will be up to her mother."

Debra sinks into a seat and runs a hand over her face. She suddenly feels much older than she really is. "This is going to be very hard on both of them."

"Yes. It is. They're both going to need a lot of support."

The grandmother shakes off her own fears and focuses on the present moment. "What do we do right now?"

"We calm them both down. When Rachel wakes up, we need to get to the root of it in a way that doesn't cause her heart rate to get too high. We may need to sedate her at least a little. We need Shelby to stay calm, as well. Not only for her own sake but for Rachel's. Rachel becomes very distressed when she sees her mother upset."

"In Shelby's defense, Rachel deserves to know how her actions are affecting others, especially her mother."

"I agree. But as her doctor, I need to put her physical health first. If she becomes too upset, she could go into cardiac arrest. We can let her know how damaging her actions were when she's physically strong enough to handle it. Right now she's not. Not without being sedated, at least."

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Christopher jogs around a corner and nearly trips over his daughter. He kneels and wraps his arms around her. She jumps and looks up at him. The moment she realizes who is holding her, she falls into his arms crying even harder than before. Chris holds her tight. He lets his little girl cry until she's out of tears. He rubs her back and gives her the time she needs, ignoring his fears and desperate need for information. He needs to know what's going on. He is terrified of what is causing her to react like this. He's hoping she's just overwhelmed by everything that happened and finally letting herself let it out but something tells him that's no the case. A nurse places a box of tissues on the floor next to them. He's grateful, but it does nothing to ease his fears. He hands one to Shelby and she sits up to blow her nose and dry her cheeks. It is taking all of his self control to hold back the tide of questions rising within him. Shelby leans back against the wall and looks at him.

"She stopped taking her medicine."

He jerks up straighter. "What?"

Shelby nods and presses a shaking hand over her eyes. Her lips tremble, threatening more tears. "Yeah."

"Why?" Why the fuck—

"I don't know. I was yelling at her and her heart rate got too high and I didn't even notice the monitor beeping until Dr. Morgan yelled at us and Rachel was gasping for breath. I pushed her too hard when she wasn't well enough to handle it."

Chris shakes his head. "Shel, you were upset. Rachel did a stupid, dangerous thing and she needed to know that. You can't blame—"

"I don't even know if she's okay!" Shelby wails. "I just left! She was calling out to me and I left!"

"You needed a moment to yourself. There's nothing wrong with that." Wanting to prevent her from having another meltdown, Chris stands and holds out a hand to her. "Why don't we go back and check? Or you can stay here and I can go check on her."

"No. I need to see for myself that she's okay."

She places her hand in his but before he can pull her up, Dr. Morgan joins them. "She's fine." Shelby's face flushes then pales. Dr. Morgan kneels beside Shelby. "Rachel is fine. I had to sedate her, but she's resting now. She'll probably be asleep for a couple hours. Right now, I'm more worried about you."

"Me?"

Chris frowns in concern. The doctor places a cup on the floor. She gently takes Shelby's hand and presses her fingers to the inside of her wrist. "Have you ever had blood pressure issues? Or any problems with your heart?"

"No. Never."

"Just checking. I assumed as much but needed to be sure. I completely understand your reaction. Shelby, you did the right thing walking out."

"But she was—"

"Hysterical. And so were you. We need to keep her calm. She is not healthy and she's not in very good shape right now. I'm trying to help her get better. You're healthy and I'd like to keep it that way. You've been under a large amount of stress for the past couple years. That stress can put a strain on your body, including your heart. Moments like this are reasonable, but if it keeps happening, I suggest you see a cardiologist."

"What are you talking about?"

Dr. Morgan frowns. "You were stumbling, struggling to stay upright, your breathing was uneven, and your face was alternating between flushing and paling. These are symptoms of extreme emotional distress, but they can also be symptoms of a health issue like a high blood pressure….often caused by stress. Rachel needs you to be healthy and at your best. While I'm positive this reaction was emotional from what you just went through, if it happens again please get checked out."

Christopher pinches the bridge of his nose. His girls are going to be the death of him. He'll be repeating this conversation to his wife and other children. And Scott. It looks like they're going to have to keep a closer eye on both Rachel and Shelby. Just to be safe. Shelby sighs.

"I'm fine. Physically, at least. Emotionallly, it's been tough. The events yesterday, then….then….today…." Her eyes well up. "I can't believe she….."

"It's perfectly understandable." Dr. Morgan hands her a cup with a pill inside it. "I'm not going to force you, but I suggest you take this sedative. You can either take the whole thing and take a nap while Rachel is napping, or I can cut it in half and it'll help you calm down."

"Take the whole thing, Shel." Christopher tells her softly. "Rachel is asleep and will be for hours. You should do the same. I know you didn't sleep much last night."

"Dad, I'm—"

"Going to listen to your father. Take it." He cuts her off firmly.

Shelby's eyes jump between the cup, the doctor, and Christopher. The way she grudgingly accepts the pill is very reminiscent of her teenage years, making Chris smirk. He helps her stand and they start walking to Rachel's hospital room.

"It'll kick in pretty fast, so lay down on the cot right after you take it."

"Thank you, doctor."

Dr. Morgan nods. "I'll be by to check on Rachel later. For now, nurses will be in and out monitoring her. She's fine. Get some rest. We'll finish questioning Rachel and discuss options after you've both rested."

"Options?"

"Get some rest. We'll talk later."

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Burt regrets going to the shop before coming to the hospital. If he'd gone to the hospital first, he'd have been present for the talk with the doctor and possibly could have helped keep the girls calm. Instead, he arrived after Shelby's parents did to find mother and daughter asleep. They brought him up to speed. Burt's heart hurts for Shelby. He is furious with Rachel. He sits beside her now and holds her hand between his. He wants her to wake up so they can talk. Not taking her meds? It is incredibly dangerous and reckless. The idea of her doing it intentionally because she has given up terrifies him. He needs to know why she did it. They all do. They have to talk to her about it without upsetting her. Dr. Morgan already suggested keeping her under a mild sedative. Just enough to prevent her heart from racing but not enough to impair her cognitive abilities or make her sleep.

She is his daughter. In a selfish way, he is jealous of Shelby. She has Rachel all to herself these days. He doesn't get to see her nearly as much as he used to. He has his own son….sons, now…..to raise and watch over. But he misses having Rachel around more often. Maybe if he'd had her around the house more, he'd have picked up on something. So he needs to talk to his little girl to find out where he went wrong. Why did she think it was okay to stop taking her medicine? It'll be at least another hour before she wakes. He worries that it'll be an invasion of her privacy and upset her, but he wonders if he should talk to Kurt first. His son knows her best, after all. If she was choosing not to live, she'd have told him or at least hinted. Or would she not have? To protect him? It's been a while since he longed to punch Leroy Berry. His actions caused Rachel to not trust that she can turn to parents for support and be loved unconditionally. He has worked hard to convince her otherwise and so has Shelby. He thought they'd done an excellent job of that, but maybe not. Not if she was letting herself die and keeping it from them. With a reluctant sigh, he kisses her cheek and leaves.

The whole drive home, his mind is on overdrive. He thinks back over every conversation he has had with Rachel since her second diagnosis. He tries to think of any little hint that could have told him this was happening. But she spends the vast majority of her time with Shelby, not him. How did Shelby miss it? He shakes his head, trying to push the thought away. It's not Shelby's fault. It's Rachel's. And yet part of him does blame her. She is her mother. Rachel lives with her. Were there truly no signs? Or did Shelby miss them? Would he have missed them? He walks into his house and up the stairs to his sons room. Kurt is on his bed with his laptop on his lap watching old videos.

"Hey, bud."

"Dad!" Kurt shoves the computer off his lap and sits up more. "How's Rachel? Is she okay? What happened? Can I visit now?"

Burt holds up his hands. "Slow down." He takes a seat on the bed. "Rachel's okay. She's out of the woods but they're still limiting visitors to prevent her heart rate from increasing. She's sleeping right now. We do know what happened and that's what I need to talk to you about."

"What?"

"Kurt, I doubt Rachel is ready for people to know, but I need to ask you something. So everything we're about to discuss stays between us. Do you understand me?"

"We're keeping it a secret?"

"For now. It'll be up to Rachel to tell Finn and the others."

Kurt's wide, scared eyes flick between his. Burt takes his hand and squeezes it in comfort. "Okay. I'll keep this a secret. What's going on?

"I said Rachel is sleeping. She is, but only because she had to be sedated. She got too upset and her heart rate skyrocketed. They were worried she'd go into cardiac arrest so they sedated her."

"What made her so upset?"

"A conversation between her, Dr. Morgan, and Shelby. Kurt, Rachel stopped taking her medicine weeks ago."

"What? Why?!"

"That's what we need to know. She got too upset before they could get answers so we won't know for sure until she wakes up and we ask her again. They're gonna keep her somewhat sedated. Enough that she won't freak out and can answer their questions calmly."

"I-I don't understand why she stopped taking them."

Burt watches his sons reaction carefully. "So you didn't know?"

"No! I would have told you and Aunt Shelby! I would have yelled at her!"

"So you wouldn't keep that a secret for her?"

"No!"

"Okay, I had to check. Can you think of anything she said that may have implied she was giving up? Anything at all that could explain why she stopped taking her medicine?"

"No." Kurt sniffles. "Nothing new, at least. The last time she talked about it was the first time she admitted to thinking about a fast death. Back when she first found out she had Danton's again."

"Nothing since? You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure Dad. Completely. She never said or hinted anything. Do you really think she wants to die?" His eyes well up with tears.

Burt pulls his little boy into his arms and rocks him. "I don't know, buddy. I really don't. I want to say no way in hell, but…until she tells us her reasons, it's a possibility we have to be prepared for."

"Why do you think she'd want to stop fighting?"

"If that's what's going on, then…..then it's probably because she's scared. Or tired. I don't really know. Only she knows."

"But she might not, right? She might not want to die."

"Yeah. She might have not known she could cause all this by not taking the meds. But that means we still don't know why she stopped taking them."

"She didn't say anything to me, I swear." A curious look spreads across his face. "But…there is something. It might not be related."

"What?"

"I pointed out that she hasn't been getting sick lately. You know, like colds, stomach bugs, and stuff."

Burt straightens. "She hasn't."

"She had been, early on. A lot. She was constantly catching stuff and she hated it. Then it slowed down and…..stopped. She hasn't caught anything in a while. When I said something about it, she smiled. But it was an odd smile. Like a Cheshire Cat grin. Like she knew something I didn't. It was weird. So maybe she stopped taking it to stop getting sick?"

Burt thinks it over. "That….actually makes a lot of sense. You know your sister really well. I think you may be on to something, kiddo."

Kurt gives him a tremulous smile. "So it might just be that. Then she was stupid, but not, like, suicidal or anything."

Burt cups his son's cheek. "Maybe. That'd be the best case scenario, little prince."

Kurt grins. "You haven't called me that in years."

"You haven't let me!" Burt defends himself. "The last couple times I tried, you argued that you're too old to be called that."

"Maybe," Kurt gives a little shrug and looks away, his cheeks flushing, "maybe only sometimes? And when its just us. It'd be okay."

Burt swallows down a chuckle. "Okay, my little prince."

Kurt throws himself into his arms. "You're the best dad ever."

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Beeping. A firm bed under her back. An IV line in her arm. A nasal cannula on. Rachel sighs deeply before even opening her eyes. She's still in the hospital. That's annoying. She blinks open her eyes. Her mother is sitting in the chair next to her bed watching her with a tense frown. Rachel eyes her warily before the memories of what happened the last time she was awake resurface. Her heart jumps into her throat and her eyes widen. Her mom's eyes move to the heart monitor above her, then back down to her.

"They sedated you. Not much, but enough that your heart shouldn't skyrocket again. Still, if you're getting too upset or feeling anything too strongly, you need to say something immediately."

That explains the lethargy. Rachel pushes the button to raise her bed so she's sitting up more. "Okay."

On the other side of the bed is her d- Uncle Burt. He's watching her silently. Her mother is sitting ramrod straight with one leg crossed over the other and her hands clasped in her lap. Her tense posture is not a good sign. She waits, letting the adults lead the conversation.

"You could have died yesterday. Do you realize that?"

"I realize it now." Rachel says, rubbing her eyes.

Her mom's hands clench. "I don't need your sass. I need you to take this seriously."

"I am."

She watches nervously as her mom takes a breath in, holds it, then slowly releases it. "You said that you don't want to die. That you didn't mean for this to happen."

Rachel is regretting not researching the medicine or talking to Dr. Reed about it sooner. Her fingers twist the blanket on her lap. "I don't want to die. I always meant that. And I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Then what did you mean to happen? Why did you stop taking your medicine?" Uncle Burt asks her.

"Because I was tired of always getting sick. I was constantly catching something. It was like every other week. Sometimes two weeks in a row! I hated feeling sick so often and it meant I was missing out on living my life. I couldn't go to school. I couldn't participate in Glee. I couldn't hang out with my friends. I couldn't even visit with family. I had to keep cancelling plans and staying home to 'get better'. I hated it."

"And you thought not taking your medicine would stop that from happening?"

"Well, yeah. They weaken my immune system."

Her mother shakes her head. "It inhibits your immune system so that your body can accept the treatment."

"The treatment that isn't working." Rachel snaps.

Her mother leans on the one arm and presses the back of her fist to her mouth. Rachel feels bad for how she said it, but not for saying it. She wasn't trying to upset her mother, just point out the truth. Uncle Burt rubs a hand over his face. Her mother drops her hand to grip the arm of the chair.

"It wasn't working as well as we'd have liked. That doesn't mean it wasn't working at all and it doesn't mean it wouldn't have started working better. You barely gave it a chance."

"Yes, I did. I gave it months and I dropped down to stage two faster this time."

"Which should have been more reason to keep taking them." Her mother argues.

"There didn't seem to be a point."

The adults look at one another. She hates the looks on their faces. She's not trying to upset them. It seems like the more she tries to not upset people, the more she ends up upsetting them. She's failing. She set one goal for herself this time around, to reduce the amount of stress her loved ones go through because of her, and she's failing. What is she doing wrong?

"No point?" Uncle Burt. "Rachel, that medicine is a really important part of your treatment."

Dr. Morgan enters the room and glances over everyone, getting a read of the room. "So we've started?"

"Yeah. She didn't see a point in taking her medicine because it wasn't helping her get better. In her mind."

"And she was tired of getting sick from not having much of an immune system."

Dr. Morgan takes it in and nods slowly. "Okay. So, to clarify, Rachel, you stopped taking the medicine because you didn't want to keep catching illnesses. And you didn't think it was helping you get better overall, so you didn't think it'd make a difference?"

Rachel shrugs. "Yeah."

"I can understand not wanting to keep catching things. But it didn't occur to you that the medicine might have been an integral part of your treatment?"

She frowns, focusing her attention on the doctor. "The medicine lowers my white blood cell count, which weakens my immune system, which allows my body to better absorb and accept the weekly treatments. But it wasn't working. It was making me get sick a lot and I wasn't getting better. I'm not getting better. So why should I have to spend my final months constantly sick and missing out? I said I'd keep fighting and I meant it. But I wanted to do it my way, where I'd do everything to hep me get better as long as it didn't…..stop me from living now."

Her mother's knuckles are white from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly. Rachel wants to help her feel better, but she knows better than to lie. Dr. Morgan pulls up a chair.

"When we check your bloodwork, we're looking for a list of specific things. We're primarily looking at your red blood cell count. That's what tells us what stage you're in. That's how we know if you have aplastic anemia or not. We check your iron levels to determine how bad the anemia is, on all levels. We check your white blood cell count. But here's the thing. Your white blood cell count has to be low. They are the warriors of your body, they lead your immune system in protecting you from viruses and bacteria. They decide what is a danger that needs to be attacked by your immune system and what isn't. Your white blood cells lead the charge. Are you with me so far?"

"Yes."

"Okay. This isn't a perfect analogy, but imagine your body is a house. Your house is on fire. The fire is your aplastic anemia. It's an electrical fire, so it's burning through the walls first, destroying the structure of the house."

"The bone marrow."

"Right. We give you a blood transfusion, which is the firefighters rushing in to spray down the fire. Your immune system is like the security system and your white blood cells are like body guards for the house; your body. They patrol the house and beat up whatever they and the immune system decide is a threat to you. The immune system is like robots firing lasers at the threat. They don't see the fire burning the house down as a bad thing, so they're not fighting it themselves. We send in firefighters to fight the fire. But between the white blood cells body guards and immune security system, they can't get in. They decide the firefighters are a threat. Now, that's where your little blue pills come in every day. We purposely lower the number of white blood cells, which also severely weakens your immune system. Why? So that the firefighters can get inside and put out the fire. Because if the security is too good, they're blocking firefighters and other emergency personnel from getting inside to help you."

Dr. Morgan gives her a moment to absorb all of that. Then she holds up Rachel's file and shakes it. "These numbers are too high. They're normal, healthy numbers. But we can't have that. We need less, weaker numbers so that the red blood cells can get in there and fight. But your beefed up white blood cells are beating up our new incoming red blood cells. Imagine them like stupid but well meaning security guards who identify firefighters as a threat and block them from coming inside. What happens? There's no one putting out the fire. The house is burning down. We give you the blue pills to weaken your body's security so that they can let in the help it really needs. It's dangerous, because it's also letting in a few things that shouldn't…visitors carrying diseases, a few robbers,…..which are bad and we have to be careful of, but those are things we can hep you recover from. Once the house burns down, the rest doesn't matter. We can't help you. There's nothing left to help."

Rachel swallows hard. Her head and chest feel uncomfortable and her mind is swirling. Dr. Morgan looks at the monitors, then takes her hand and manually checks her pulse. Rachel uses her free hand to swipe a wayward tear that escaped. She sniffles.

"I thought it was just making it easier for the treatment to work." She defends herself. "And my numbers keep dropping so it didn't seem to be working. And I kept getting sick. More than last time. I wasn't trying to make it harder for my treatment to work, I swear. I thought I was just giving my body a break from colds and stomach bugs and stuff."

"So if you had known how important the medicine was you would have kept taking it?"

"Yes! I want to get better. I just didn't see the point in doing something that wasn't helping and instead was making it harder on me. That's how it seemed to me."

Her mother's glare is still fierce. "You didn't think to talk to me about it? If I had known, I would have talked to Dr. Reed and had him explain just how important the medicine is."

Rachel gives a half shrug. "I said I wanted to do it my way. I said I wanted it to be my choice."

"To stop taking your medicine?!" Her mother snaps.

She cringes and sinks down on the bed, pulling the blanket it up to her shoulders as if it'd protect her from her mother's wrath. "I figured you'd be against it, but I honestly didn't think it'd be this bad! I swear!"

"If you knew your mom would be against it, shouldn't that have been a clue that it was a bad decision?" Uncle Burt challenges.

Rachel bites her lip, not wanting to answer. Nothing she can say right now is going to make them any happier. When it becomes clear that she won't be responding, Dr. Morgan clears her throat.

"I believe you now understand why the pills are important. But I don't think you yet understand the severity of your situation."

Her stomach drops. "What do you mean?"

"Let's start with your heart. It was weakened. Not permanently, but you will need to be careful for a while."

"Meaning no physical activity for a few days?"

Dr. Morgan gives her a hard look. "Meaning you are on bed rest. Indefinitely."

"What?"

"Your feet cannot touch the floor. At least not until we are 100% sure your heart has fully recovered."

"How long will that take?" Rachel asks incredulously.

"We don't know. That's just your heart. We also need to talk about your treatment plan."

Rachel nods. She knew this was coming. Hell, after this situation she was going to go back to taking the pills even if she hadn't been discovered. "I'll go back to taking the pills. I promise."

"It's not that simple anymore, Rachel. Your body has too many white blood cells. You can't resume treatments until they're lower."

"Wait," her mother leans forward, confusion on her face, "The first time she got sick, she had a treatment like a day after starting her pills. This time, she was only taking the pills for a couple days before starting weekly treatments. Why does she have to wait this time?"

"Because of the damage it already caused. It'd be like punching a bruise. Rachel has had multiple treatments without the medicine in her system. Each has gone worse than the last. It was damaging. It isn't safe for her to go through treatment until her white blood cell count is lower. Imagine breaking your leg but instead of getting a cast, you just put a bandaid on it. Then you go run a race because you think the bandaid will be enough support. That's what going back to taking the pills and getting normal treatments would be like. She needs a metaphorical cast."

"And what would that be?"

"We could take a stronger, less diluted, version of her daily pills and inject it right into her bone marrow. It'll make her sick as a dog for a couple days, but after she recovers her white blood cell numbers should be low enough that she can resume taking her daily pills."

"What about her treatments? Earlier you said her red blood cell count dropped. She can't really afford to miss any treatments, right?"

"You're right. Her numbers did drop and she can't afford to miss any treatments. Unfortunately, we don't really have a choice. If we give her a treatment before her white blood cell count drops, we could have a repeat of what happened yesterday. Or worse."

Uncle Burt leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. "So what do we do instead?"

"We wait. We can give her regular blood transfusions, but the IV medications will have to wait. With her most recent drop, she's already teetering the line to stage three. Waiting much longer will definitely drop her fully in."

"So we either let her continue treatments but risk killing her by repeating what happened yesterday, or we wait but she'll probably be in stage three by then?" Her mother questions in a higher pitch than normal.

"Unfortunately, those are our two options."

The adults turn to look at Rachel, who caused all of this. She's well aware that she put herself in this situation. The heat from her mother's glare makes her wonder if spontaneous human combustion is actually her third option.

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