For a moment she thought she was okay. After nationals and during those last couple weeks of school, she got herself to believe that the past year had been a fever dream, and that the stress of McKinley and giving up her child had made her go temporarily insane. She kept babysitting and she and Sam would spend afternoons studying for their upcoming tests, but they actually ended up talking rather than studying most days. A couple of Saturdays were spent with Santana and Brittany, hanging out like friends were supposed to, watching movies in Santana's room and trying to hide how happy she was that her and Brittany seemed to be figuring things out. It would have only spooked Santana, and there was no use in wrecking the tenuous bond they had formed.

For those couple of weeks it was easy to ignore that persistent gnawing in her head. She didn't hate herself in the way she had before. She stopped looking in mirrors if she could avoid it, and made sure she got dressed before she put her contacts in. With nothing to look at and obsess over, she felt okay. She felt like something approaching normal.

But then finals ended, and without school or glee to keep her distracted and occupy most of her time, that facade broke down quickly and she easily slipped back into her head, and back to drinking her mother's vodka. She used to take solace in solitude and quiet, but now she couldn't even have that. Alone in her house she had no one to hide from, no walls to build up; there was no one to manipulate to keep herself on top and in power.

It was just her, the nightmares, and a body she despised.

For the first month of vacation, the glee kids tried to get her out of the house. Brittany and Santana called constantly, but she ignored them, or made up excuses that they knew were bullshit, but didn't call her on. Mercedes texted a couple times, asking when they were going to see her again, but she never replied. Her messages were always a reminder of that night in her brother's bedroom.

Sam was the only one she talked to. She was still over at the motel a few times a week to babysit, or he would come to her very empty house. He kept her in reality, even if it was just by stopping over and watching the Food Network with her. There was absolutely no way he didn't know something was wrong with her, but he never pushed, although once in a while she would catch the concerned look he often had on his face out of the corner of her eye. He tried a few times to get her to come hang out with Mike and Tina or Artie, but she always declined. Instead, after he left, she would go and drink away her envy and that biting raw disgust that had started surfacing over how much she wished she was him. And then she would drink more to deal with the guilt of feeling that way towards him when he had been nothing but kind and forgiving the past few months.

Then, when she was too drunk to feel anything about Sam or anyone else real (including Quinn Fabray), she'd start googling again. One night, after spending the day with him and talking about the future (for her in the vaguest sense, she planned to continue existing in some capacity. For him, things were starting to seem a bit more concrete, art school, maybe close to home, maybe on the east coast. His parents still just wanted him to be happy), she delved into a bottle of rum that had probably been around since Ann moved out. By two in the morning she was in the same state she had been last summer when she figured out what was wrong with her.

It wasn't a fleeting, drunken thought, no matter how hard she had tried to will it away in the past year. And she was just getting so tired. When she could no longer see straight she searched for that video again and after pausing it twice to throw up in the bathroom, she managed to finish it.

He sounded like that tiny, persistent voice in her head, the one that was much more vocal and jovial back when she was Lucy. Back then, it told her she was okay and that being king of her toys was okay. Then her parents drowned it out almost completely. But her walls were down now, and she couldn't think and it was just so loud and it was so right. It was right about her.

Him. It was right about him.

She threw up three more times and cried until she passed out leaning against the bathroom wall.

When she woke up it was with an incredible headache in a silent house, remembering everything that had happened the night before. It was Saturday, and her mother was still in Cleveland. She shakily made it to her bed from the bathroom floor and collapsed for a few more hours to avoid thinking.

The next time she woke up it was because her phone was chiming on the nightstand. Sam had sent her a Facebook message (the family computer had been one of the things they didn't sell off over those few months) with a link to a music video and a note saying "been listening to these guys a lot lately, and this song reminded me of you. figured you might like it."

She didn't check the link until later, when the sun was starting to set and she had finally gotten out of bed. The first few bars of "Bloodbuzz Ohio" were the only thing that had calmed her down in the past twenty-four hours, but by the last refrain of "I'm on a bloodbuzz, God I am" she was crying again. She played it on a loop and went back through her browser history from the night before, without clearing it. Sober.

In mid-July she got a letter from Shelby. It was polite, mostly just telling her about how Beth was doing and how she had become a terror since learning to walk. Shelby had included a couple of pictures of a beautiful girl with curly dirty blonde hair and a thousand yard stare that would probably scare a convicted serial killer if it wasn't coming from a child. But there was also one of her smiling, and when she was happy she looked so much like Puck, it was absurd.

She knew she had done the right thing in giving Beth up. Objectively, she knew that. Shelby was a perfect mom, and Beth was getting to grow up in New York, and while she could never live there, that was an incredible experience to have. But looking at those pictures made her feel so lost, because one moment the pangs of loss were so acute she felt like she was going to throw up, and the next she was taken back to when she was pregnant and it felt like an alien or a demon was growing inside her and stealing her body. She thought back to that brief time where she wanted nothing more than for that baby to just not exist, because she couldn't handle what it was doing to her head, not to mention the rest of her.

The feeling of guilt that washed over her was crippling. She burned the letter, shoved the pictures underneath the sweaters in the bottom drawer of her dresser, closed the curtains, and slept for twelve hours.

Two days later Sam told her he was moving to Kentucky. He showed up at her door on a night that her mother was actually home. They exchanged pleasantries and Judy actually seemed sorry he was moving away, although as far as she could recall, they had only met once or twice. She took him into the den, because her mother had not stepped foot in there since she had left her father. He told her that his dad had gotten a job offer doing construction that he couldn't pass up. It was full time work for a decent salary in a nice, if small, city called Independence. The glee kids were throwing him a going away party the next day, but he figured (correctly) that she wouldn't want to come. So he brought over a copy of Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind that he borrowed from the library (but had no intention of returning) for them to watch together.

Miyazaki films were one of the few dorky things he got her to like when they dated, and it was one of the many things she missed about him after they broke up. Like how she wished she could get to Narnia through her closet when she was a kid, part of her wished she could live as Nausicaa or San from Princess Mononoke. They appeared lonely, but were happy in the solitude. They were beautiful. And okay. They lived content in nature, seeing beauty where everyone else refused. There were times she wished she could live like that. She leaned against him on the couch and they watched in comfortable silence.

"I'm going to miss you," she said as the end credits rolled.

"Me too."

She laughed. " Figures. I think you're the only friend I have left."

"What about Santana and Brittany?

"They're too wrapped up in each other to really care about anyone else. Can't say I blame them when they make each other so happy."

"You know everyone in glee cares about you, right?" he said after a moment.

"They care when they have to. Like whenever something going on with me affects the club, or affects Finn, or Rachel. Again, can't blame them, I'd do the same thing if I were in their shoes. I did do they same thing. And worse."

"Yeah, but-"

"No, Sam," she said firmly. "I just-I can't do that anymore. I'm done with it."

He sat quiet, looking at her oddly.

"What?" she asked.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, you're done with glee," he said.

"Yes," she stated, getting a little exasperated.

"Good. Because I think that's the first time I've ever heard you be honest about what you actually wanted, right now."

"Don't be a condescending ass."

"I'm not, I'm just telling you the truth. And you have to want some things just for yourself Quinn, just to be happy."

She knew that. And him telling her wasn't going to magically fix anything, but he was right. And maybe she was figuring out a way to get to okay, or someday, happy without even realizing it.

When she hugged him on her porch before he left, she was sad, but significantly less tired.

Over the next week she watched that "coming out as trans" video five more times. Sober and in the daylight. By the fifth time she could get all the way through it without pausing or trembling too bad. His name was Ryan and he just…he sounded like her. He was okay as a kid, but as soon as he started growing up and puberty hit, everything felt wrong. His body wasn't his anymore, it belonged to a person he didn't recognize, but yet he still had to live inside it. He suffered through it for years, until he realized what was wrong.

She got a nose job and contacts, and for a minute, she felt better. Or at least she thought she felt better, because she was supposed to. Then there was power to maintain and a reputation to uphold and parents to make proud. It was their investment, and they didn't want to see it go to waste on Lucy.

But she was Ryan.

Her breathing was shaky, but she managed to keep it together. She stood and looked at herself in the mirror, really looked at herself, for the first time in months, and saw everything that was wrong. It was all wrong. She went to the closet in the hallway and found an old Ace bandage that was used for her frequent twisted ankles after she first took up cheerleading. Back in her room she rummaged through her dresser and found a pair of jeans she had worn for a glee performance and an old cheer camp t-shirt. With her back turned to the mirror she took off her dress and pulled on the jeans, then wrapped the bandage around her chest and threw on the oversized shirt.

It was absolutely ridiculous looking, but the bandage flattened her breasts and the shirt hung loosely, hiding her hips. She pulled her hair back and left her bangs hanging in her face. Then she really looked in the mirror again. It was a bit better. It made her feel better. She didn't realize how awful she felt until it was almost better. She didn't know it could feel better.

She squeezed her eyes tight and tensed her body tight to keep back the tears because she couldn't bear feeling that much fear and relief at once.

She met Mack in early August while trying to figure out a way to bide her time. She was terrified of what she might be, but couldn't go back to school and pretend like nothing had changed anymore. She was finally more scared of what ignoring it would do to her, so she had to find a way to keep everyone away.

Mack was a fifth year senior who had led the Skanks since she was a sophomore. No matter what the halls of McKinley looked like every day, who was cool, who wasn't, or whatever gossip was going around, no one messed with the Skanks. She bought some pink hair dye from CVS and ripped up an old black t-shirt she got from Goodwill and just started hanging out in front of the 7-11 when she knew Mack was getting off her shift.

It didn't take long to get in, pretending to not give a shit and having money for cigarettes was all it really all she needed. After she bought them a carton of Marlboro's to share, they took her to get her nose pierced at this shady shop, and that sealed the deal. She switched into head cheerleader mode and adapted, taking charge by the time school started, Mack was getting tired of finding freshmen to torture anyway. It was far from perfect, but it was going to keep the glee club away, and everyone else from asking the right questions.