In advance, do excuse any bad Spanish. I have never had a single lesson in my life, and google translate was my main tool in this.

Thank-you everyone for the repsonse to the past two chapters, I really love getting other people's feedback so I know I'm not doing this all wrong.

A loud, unexpected thud jerked Rachel out of her slumber, her eyes snapping open as she sat up as quickly as if someone had thrown a slushie over her head and immediately regretted it. Her head spun violently and the classroom lurched in front of her, one item merging into another. She blinked hard and pressed her palm into her forehead to calm the movement, but all that seemed to do was make her head throb.

There was a large folder on her desk that hadn't been there at the beginning of the lesson. Curious, Rachel moved her head slowly, looking up at her annoyed looking Spanish teacher. Mr Schue's eyebrows were raised, whether it was in irritation or surprise, Rachel wasn't sure. "Rachel," he announced. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me?" Tell him what? She felt as if her mind had been wiped blank as her teacher continued to gaze down at her, waiting for her answer.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?" Rachel asked, trying to keep the usual air of confidence in her voice. Mr Schue's gaze stayed on her for several more seconds, and Rachel could almost feel herself shrinking under his stare. She wished she was somewhere, anywhere else. It wasn't as if she wasn't used to humiliation, she faced it on a daily basis, but one thing she wasn't used to was being clueless. She always knew the answer. A teacher was yet to set her a piece of work she could not do and for that, they expected things of her. She expected it of herself.

"Repitiendo la pregunta, Rachel, no va a ayudar. Lo que sería útil es que si usted escuchó en el primer lugar."

Rachel blinked at him, not having a clue what he just said. The words sounded familiar to her, but she couldn't process them in her mind to figure out what they meant. It was like a mist had leaked into her brain, making it impossible to concentrate, or even keep her eyes open properly. They fluttered again, but Rachel forced them open, still staring blankly at Mr Schue. He sighed.

"See me after class." He sounded disappointed, using the same horrible tone she had heard him use on so few occasions. Rachel could count on one hand the amount of times she had heard it, and not once was it directed purely at her. She felt her heart sink, crushed under the weight of his disappointment. People didn't often like her, in fact, most of her peers hated her, but it was rare an authority figure spoke to her like that. Rachel prided herself on her intelligence. She was clever, she got good grades. It was one of the only things she was good for.

For the remainder of the lesson, Rachel tried to stay focused. She did her best to tune into Mr Schue's voice, process his words and actually make some meaning out of them, but everything he said just spun around in her head, the words tangling into one another and making no sense, not even when he spoke in English. She was so tired that her eyes kept closing of their own free will, her head sinking closer and closer to the desk until she forced her eyes open again and fixed her gaze firmly to the front of the classroom.

Finally, the sound of the bell echoed through the classroom walls, signalling the end of the lesson, and Rachel was almost glad she had been asked to stay behind. She wasn't sure she had the energy to pack up her bag and leave. Mr Schue waited until the last student was out of the room before approaching her desk and Rachel dropped her gaze to the desk, avoiding the flash of disappoint she was sure to see in his eyes.

But instead of leaning on her desk, towering over her so he could bawl her out, he pulled up a chair beside her.

"What's the matter with you Rachel?" He said, but not unkindly. He didn't shout at her like she had been expecting. He sounded concerned. She inwardly sighed; there was nothing to be concerned about, she was fine. Why was everyone always on her back? First Finn, he still hadn't dropped the subject of her weight loss. Rachel had managed to fob him off by eating whatever small amount she would allow herself during the day in front of him, but he was still edge about it.

"It's not like you to fall asleep in class and not listen to a word I'm saying," Mr Schue continued, oblivious to Rachel's thought pattern. "You're not yourself in Glee, ever since you collapsed that day, you're not as energetic as you used to be. I think you should see a doctor."

Rachel shook her head, a smile already plastered on her show face. "I already did Mr Schue," she lied. "My dads took me after I fell asleep over dinner. My doctor said it was simply down to stress. Mid-terms are coming up and I've been doing a lot of studying. I was given some pills to help me sleep, but I guess they're just working too well." Even Rachel was impressed with the lie. Not only was her story believable, but she'd delivered it with conviction and confidence. Nothing in her tone that would give away the truth.

Mr Schue returned her smile, satisfied by the story. It didn't cross his mind for one moment that she was lying, Rachel may be a lot of things, but she was always truthful and if there was something bothering her, she'd tell someone immediately. There was no doubt in him that she would have mentioned something that was wrong after prompting. It made sense, a lot of students were tired and stressed coming up to exam season. He was just relieved that was all it was.

"I'm glad that you're okay Rachel, but if there ever was anything wrong, you know you can tell me." It was not a question but a statement. He fully expected Rachel to be aware that she could talk to him, but she wasn't. He may not have been the one to give out the insults, the rejection, the heartbreak that had led her to become what she was, but he had never tried to stop any of it either. He had taken a back seat whenever the members of the Glee Club were taunting her, turning a blind eye to what went on right in front of his eyes.

But of course, Rachel could never tell him that. "Of course Mr Schue, thank-you for your concern," said Rachel in her typical formal fashion. She pushed back her chair and slung her bag over her shoulder, struggling not to show the amount of effort that simple action cost her. By the time she left the room just moments later after exchanging goodbyes with her teacher, he had already started to forget his concerns, and Rachel was beginning to wonder when she had become such a good liar.

…

The sun had barely risen in the sky, the birds just beginning to sing their annoying tune to signal the early hours of the morning, the air still held the calm peace of morning when it was too early for anyone to be awake and on the roads, but Rachel was already running. She had woken up at half past four that morning to get an extra run in before school as well as her usual morning workout.

Finn had been at her house the previous night, he had insisted on cooking her a meal again, and Rachel could tell he was still suspicious about what she was eating when he wasn't there, so she had forced herself to eat it, pushing it down forkful after forkful and cursing her lack of gag reflex. As soon as he had gone she had been burning off the calories and set an alarm an hour and half earlier than she usually got up so she could spend it shedding the extra calorie intake.

Both the lack of sleep and heavy exercise regime were taking their toll as she ran, Rachel could feel the burning in her chest and throat, an ache that had turned into an agonising pain. A pain that she enjoyed. It meant the weight was coming off her, the calories were disappearing, as long as she kept going, it would be all right, she wouldn't put on any weight from the meal the previous night. The burning, the ache in her stomach, the nausea rising inside her made her feel skinny. They made her feel like she was winning against her body and she was not about to cave to its demands.

It was past six by the time Rachel finally allowed herself to stop, and she had been running for over an hour. She stopped not because she wanted to, but because she physically could not go on any longer. As soon as she did, she dropped to her hands and knees, too exhausted to hold herself up and immediately began a violent coughing fit, retching, but there was nothing in her stomach to throw up. Even the food from the previous evening was gone.

Weakly, Rachel leaned against the railings beside her, closing her eyes for just a moment. The world was spinning again, something she had yet to grow used to. When she opened them again a pair of legs stood in front of her. She waited for the person to walk away, but they didn't move. She didn't have the energy to look up and face the stranger.

"Rachel?" Her head snapped up suddenly; that was no stranger's voice. With a jolt of pain that had nothing to do with her exhaustion, Rachel found herself staring up into the face of her mother, who was looking at her as if she were something unpleasant that she had found on the street and felt the need to get rid of before anyone else could come across it. Or perhaps that was just her imagination.

Rachel struggled to pull herself up using the iron bars, still clutching them tightly when she was upright and leaning on them for extra support. She did not yet trust herself to hold herself up, and the last thing she needed to do was make a fool of herself in front of the mother who already thought she wasn't worth it.

As soon as she was stood, Shelby's eyes fell onto her daughter, staring her up and down in what was intended to be a brief glance, but soon turned into a long stare. Once she had set eyes on her daughter's body, she couldn't take them away again. When she had last seen Rachel, the girl was not fat, not even close, but she had curves, a slightly rounded face. But now, all of that was gone. It seemed that all of Rachel was gone and all that was left was a pile of bones with some skin draped over it and features thrown in to give some appearance of a human being.

Shelby barely even realised she was staring until Rachel crossed her arms over her stomach and cleared her throat, her eyes fixed on her mother in a cold glare. Her curiosity had quickly melted into annoyance at the woman she had longed for all of her life, and especially in the last months was finally there just when Rachel least wanted her. She was hot, she was sweaty, she was exhausted and most of all, she was not covered. She was wearing her running clothes that did nothing to cover her figure. No wonder her mother was staring at her like that. She looked utterly disgusted.

"Rachel..." Shelby's voice trailed away, the words dying on her lips. She wanted to ask what happened, demand to know what on earth her daughter had done to herself, but as much as it shocked her to see it, she knew it was nothing to do with her. She had given the girl up sixteen years ago, and then again last year and nothing that happened in Rachel's life was any longer anything to do with Shelby. It never had been.

She forced down the maternal feelings, the pull dragging her towards the option of pulling the tiny girl into a hug and refusing to let go until she had told her everything and instead cleared her throat, trying to cover up that she had started to say anything at all. But Rachel seemed to be waiting for her to say something, she was still leaning against the fence, watching her mother intently, as if she was attempting to burn her under a glare.

"What are you doing out here?" She settled for. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable question, she had just found her near collapsed in the gutter at quarter past six in the morning when she should have still been in bed, or at the very most just rolling out of it.

"Running," said Rachel, shortly, as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Her voice was not unkind, or even angry, in fact, it did not match up with her expression at all, but it held none of the warmth that she had used when she had tried in vain to convince Shelby to co direct the New Directions. It was just...emotionless. That was the only word for it.

If anyone else had spoken to her like that she would have been on their case as hard as a dumb bell for rudeness, but with Rachel, it seemed justified. She was the one who had caused the relationship that broke her daughter's heart, she was the one who had gone through such lengths to meet her only to reject her over and over again. She was the one who had dismissed her only biological child like an unwanted parcel.

"I can see that," said Shelby with one raised eyebrow as she took in her daughter's clothes and frame, shaking with pure exhaustion. "How long have you been running for?"

Rachel shrugged. "Around an hour. I don't know, I lose track of time rather quickly when I run. It's peaceful at this time of the morning, I often find. No one else is around, I don't get caught up in small talk with strangers."

Shelby narrowed her eyes at the comment, wondering if it had been a deliberate dig, but Rachel's facial expression had not changed in the slightest.

"That's a long time to run," she observed, her concerns growing stronger by the moment. She wondered if anyone else had noticed the change in her daughter. They had to have done, surely. Those who saw her, spoke to her, everyday could not possible fail to notice something Shelby had picked up on within thirty seconds of meeting Rachel again.

"You've lost a lot of weight," she added after a long pause, finally getting a reaction out of Rachel. She had expected Rachel to be defensive, or simply dismiss her mother's concerns and tell her she was simply watching what she was eating, trying to maintain a healthy weight to be a good dancer. What she was not expecting was for her to look utterly delighted.

Quickly, Rachel tried to disguise her happiness at what she saw as a compliment, but the smile lingered on her lips, a disturbing reminder of the decline Shelby could see in what had once been a happy, confident girl with dreams bigger then the whole of Ohio.

"Not really," she argued, with a shake of her head. "Not enough, not yet. Please excuse me, I'm going to be late for school if I don't get home soon." And with that dismissal, she pushed herself away from the railings and jogged away in the opposite direction and Shelby watched until her daughter was out of sight, afraid that her fragile body would give underneath her, poised and ready to run to her if she fell.

..

Only in the event of a nuclear bomb that wiped out the entire earth other than the two of them did Rachel ever think Quinn would voluntarily talk to her without insulting her, but she seemed to be preparing for such a case. At least, that was the only explanation Rachel could think of when Quinn called her back as she went to leave Glee rehearsal and it was not only her head that turned. Mercedes and Kurt exchanged wary raised eyebrows and Santana shot Quinn a withering look as if warning her not to do it.

Although she was tempted to run and save the inevitable verbal beating for later, Rachel's curiosity got the better of her and she stopped before she had reached the door, turning to face the pretty blonde girl who she had always been so jealous of. Even now, Rachel ached to look at her. She was so perfect, a figure to die for. She had the slim frame that Rachel continued to fight so hard for, the extra inches she longed for and the hair that she often imagined Finn's hands running through.

Quinn waited, not wanting to say anything until their audience had disappeared, just one glare from her sending the message loud and clear, even to Finn who had been lingering in the doorway, waiting for his signal to stay. As soon as everyone had left, Quinn rounded on Rachel, glaring at her in the familiar way that although hurt by, Rachel knew well.

"What are you doing?" She snapped, her eyes narrowing dangerously in a way that would have had Fin tripping over his feet to obey to her every command. Used to Quinn's temper, Rachel did not have the same reaction and simply started at the blonde girl, curiously, waiting for her to continue. "Are you trying to starve yourself to death? I know a diet when I see one, I've been on plenty myself on the demand of Coach Silvester, and believe me, her plans are gruelling, but they're nothing like you're putting yourself through. I'm not blind Rachel, I can see you're starving yourself and you're getting way too thin."

Whatever Rachel was expecting, it was not this. Although she was not exactly speaking to her warmly, Rachel could see the fear behind Quinn's eyes, the concern that she could only show through angry words. And it was the cold fury that she couldn't fight with. Finn's gentle concern had been easy to brush off, all she had to do was eat a few meals in front of him and he was convinced, but Quinn didn't just suspect, she knew, and it was going to take way more than a few well rehearsed words to convince her she was fine.

"You may have fooled Finn into thinking there's nothing wrong with you, but I'm not as stupid as he is, he's so desperate to believe you're okay he'll take anything you throw at him without a sniff of suspicion, but you're not that good at hiding it Rachel, if you were, you wouldn't have changed in the middle of the bathroom where anyone could walk in on you."

Quinn's expression softened, suddenly, and still Rachel could not react. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water, searching her brain for a wild excuse, anything to convince Quinn she was making things up inside her head.

"I'm not going to tell anyone Rachel, at least not yet. You are. You're going to tell Mr Schue, or Finn, or someone and let them pass it on to whoever they need to, and if you don't, I will. You have one week."

Without another word, Quinn swept past Rachel and out of the choir room before a cover story could even begin to form and as soon as she was gone, the scream started. The panicked wail that stayed only inside Rachel's head, a silent plea for help.

I had trouble with the Quinn and Rachel scene. I didn't want to make them friends as such because I dislike Quinn, but I also thought she would care and wouldn't just leave Rachel to starve herself to death, whatever had happened between them in the past.

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