Authors Note: So this chapter is shorter because you guys got a chapter update like, five days ago. I need to stop spoiling you guys! So in order to make up for the spoiling, I decided to torture you in this chapter! MWAHAHAHA.

Rachel Berry and the Victimizing yet Erotic Glares of Quentin Fabray
Alice Inamorata

It was Christmas morning once again – seventeen years of Christmas mornings and presents lying beneath the tree. Rachel's were always wrapped in pink paper with flecks of silver and gold. It was a metaphor, she always said, and metaphors are always important. As she padded down the stairs in her night shirt and slippers, she noticed that there weren't any presents there this year. The stockings were filled to the brim, the smell of last nights dinner still loomed in the air, but the perfectly wrapped presents were invisible and it made Rachel feel unsettled.

"Why…" Rachel let her hand slide down the railing, her slippers landing on the tan carpet. She walked to the Christmas tree and sat down, fingering the pricks of pine that fell off at her touch. It smelt wonderful.

I don't mean to seem spoiled, but where are the presents?

"Rachel?"

Her head snapped up, noticing Hiram slowly walking down the stairs. His expression was exhausted; his eyes slightly drooping and his mouth curved downward. Rachel immediately knew he had a hard time sleeping last night, but she didn't know why.

"Daddy?" she replied, looking at him with curious eyes. "What's wrong?"

He sighed and motioned for Rachel to sit down, "You're probably wondering where the gifts are, huh?" He chuckled slightly as Rachel slowly settled herself onto the couch. She sunk down into the plush material, slightly toying with the hem of her night shirt. "The money was drained in our account…'our' meaning your father and my account."

Rachel nodded.

"He drained it on alcohol. And I got mad at him last night because…we didn't have anything to give you," Hiram's voice cracked as he wrapped his hand around his mouth to stabilize his jaw. "We got into a fight and he left."

"Left?" Rachel questioned, looking at her father. Hiram nodded, tears rolling down his cheeks as Rachel rose to her feet and then fell to her knees, hugging her father closely. At that moment, she didn't care about Christmas.

She only cared about her father. No one else.

Dahlia threw the stuffed Pikachu into the air, catching it enthusiastically before tossing it into the air once more. The little girl had taken a liking to playing catch by herself and Quentin had no objections; she was simply too cute - Quentin grabbed Frannie's camera, taking pictures of the little girls escapade.

"Uncle Kentin!" Dahlia cried, smiling happily.

She had gotten better at pronouncing his name.

"Look at my 'kichu!" she smiled happily, taking the large stuffed animal and pushing it into Quentin's face. Quentin laughed, feeling exhausted but energized at the same time thanks to Dahlia. She had woken up at three in the morning, first waking up him and then her parents and grandmother. Judy sat at the table in the kitchen with Frannie and her husband, sipping tea slowly.

Pikachu rubbed against Quentin's stubble, slightly charring the soft fur, but Dahlia didn't mind. Quentin just kept laughing, climbing off of the sofa and sitting on the floor with Dahlia. He didn't get much for Christmas, a couple simple things as well as a new Xbox and some games, but other than that, not much. He just felt lucky he was able to get out of England and spend time with his family.

"Your Pikachu is very cute." Quentin said, smiling and giving the stuffed animal a kiss, handing it back to Dahlia. Dahlia smiled happily, clutching the Pikachu so tight in her arms that the poor thing looked like it was suffocated.

I would feel horrible if that thing was a rabbit or puppy, Quentin thought.

"Hey Quentin, come here." Frannie called, poking her head out into the living room. Dahlia made a face when Quentin left her, but she continued to somewhat torture her new play thing.

"Yeah?" Quentin crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps tightening and his back straight. Judy raised her eyes to look at her son.

"Who was that girl you were talking to yesterday?"

Quentin froze.

Judy continued, "The little one in the pink parka. Is she from school?"

Quentin merely nodded, "Yeah."

"Rachel?" Frannie chimed in, looking at Quentin. "Brown hair, brown eyes? Yeah, she watches Dahlia when Christian and I go out for the night. She's a sweetie. Dahlia loves it when she sings her to sleep."

"She sings?" Judy questioned, looking up at Quentin, "Is she a nice girl, Q?"

"She's nice, Mum."

"Do you like her?"

"Mum!" Quentin cried, a red flush washing over his features. Judy cried out, laughing.

"Aww! How sweet! Why don't you go see her?"

Quentin shook his head, "You don't get it, Mum."

"Uncle 'Kentin!" Dahlia yelled, running up to him, "Play Barbie with me!"

I go from making one girl run away from me to another wanting to play Barbie with me. Should I be Barbie or Ken? Perhaps Stacy or Skipper? Quentin shook his head. My childhood is catching up with me.

"Excuse me," Quentin asked, the woman behind the desk looking up at him curiously. "Where would I find the Vice Building?"

The woman looked up and down at Quentin, nodding and pursing her lips. She reached to the side and grabbed a pamphlet for him, "This center may be different to the one you're used to in England." Quentin nodded. "You're going to take the elevator to the third level and then take a left. There will be a woman at the desk who will direct you to Dr. Gadd. She's a great woman."

Quentin took the pamphlet and smiled, thanking the woman quietly. He followed the directions, standing in the elevator and tapping his foot to the solemn elevator music. Frannie had given him the address of the facility, the name of the doctor she had seen and everything else. The place was clean yet bright. The walls were painted in bright colors like red, purple, green and yellow; the halls were filled with photos of happy individuals with smiling faces. Quentin felt like he belonged here, but wasn't sure about this doctor.

"I'm here to see Dr. Gadd," he spoke, running a hand through his hair. The young man behind the counter nodded, looking up at him. "I have a five-thirty appointment."

He nodded once more, "You too?"

It took a second for Quentin to realize what he meant before he nodded, "Yeah, me too."

"You look great, man." The man shook Quentin's hand and smiled, "Take a seat."

Quentin took a seat, crossing one leg over the other and bouncing it quickly. He didn't know what he was doing here, but hell, he felt uncomfortable.

"Okay, what's going on with you and Rachel?" Frannie had asked, sitting down next to him. In front of them, Dahlia was still choking her innocent Pikachu, squealing and laughing. Quentin didn't know how the little girl entertained herself so well. When he was little, all he did was scream for attention.

"Do you really want to know?" Quentin asked, looking at his sister. She nodded and he sighed. "I like her, she's a great person. But Santana keeps sabotaging everything and ruining her life…and I get tagged along for the ride."

"Have you ever considered telling San to back off?" Quentin looked down. "I mean, I know she's your best mate but she needs to let things go if you have feelings for Rachel."

"She'll tell the school if I tell her back off."

"Tell the school what?"

Quentin just looked at Frannie and she gasped. "Seriously?"

Quentin nodded, "Yeah."

"Well…how about you beat Santana to it?" Frannie somewhat smirked, patting her little brothers knee. "Tell Rachel before her. If you plan on being serious with her, she needs to know."

And that's how he ended up here. In an odd therapy room which he vowed at a young age to avoid. It had been forever since he had seen a therapist, but Frannie said good things about Dr. Gadd, so he thought he would take a chance at it.

"So you're Quentin Fabray," Dr. Gadd said, smiling and sitting across from him. She had deep red hair and a pale complexion, thin figure but with wider hips. Quentin found her somewhat attractive. "Fran told me a lot about you."

Quentin nodded.

"I understand this may bring back memories for you, Quentin. But I'm here to help you with something?" she questioned, reaching forward onto the coffee table and grabbing a clipboard. "What can I help you with?"

Quentin took a deep breath, zipping the zipper on his leather jacket up and down slowly. "There's this girl I like…and she's amazing. It's just my best friend keeps making her life hell and threatening that if I run off with her, she'll tell the whole school about…well…you know…"

"And how does this make you feel?"

Quentin sighed.

"I get it." Dr. Gadd nodded, scribbling down some notes. "Do you trust this girl?"

"Surprisingly, I do…it's just I don't want her to run away once she finds out."

"Life is about trial and error, Quentin." The doctor said, leaning forward on her elbows, their eyes meeting. "If this girl runs once she finds out, then it's not meant to be. If she doesn't take it as a sign."

"A sign of what?"

"A sign that maybe things aren't as bad as they seem. You're keeping a very crucial part of your life a secret, Quentin. You don't feel yourself around her, which is why you may be letting your best friend ruin everything for you. You don't want to get close."

Quentin sighed, running his hands through his hair. He felt a headache settling in.

"If you feel like it's worth it, I would tell her."

"She is worth it…"

"Then Quentin," Quentin looked up at the doctor, their eyes parallel. "Tell her the truth."