AN: I'M SORRY! I suck, I know. I had a horrible case of writer's block (which is still kind of plaguing me) and I lost all my notes for the story and I felt kind of lost! But I found them and hopefully I can go back to regularly updating again! Thanks again for everyone who had read, reviewed, alerted, favorited etc. The fact that the notifications were still coming was probably the biggest reason that I even tried to find my inspiration again!

R&R, even if it's to tell me how much I suck for being gone so long! There is some interesting stuff in this chapter so I hope you like it!

She'd done a lot of talking since she'd been home. So as much as Rachel loved her best friend, she was glad that Quinn became too busy with grading papers and creating lesson plans to check in on her every hour of everyday. She was sick of talking. The talking wasn't getting Rachel anywhere. She needed actions; a progression of events would be the only way for life to move on and she was just standing still. Contrasting to her own life, things were moving at McKinley because New Directions was moving. They were rehearsing and getting better. Sectionals were a week away and there was just so much to look forward to.

And on that Thursday, the final day of Rachel's time coaching she stood in front of all of them in the auditorium and thanked them for working with her. And they thanked her in return. She wished them luck as she dismissed them then followed them out in pursuit of Principal Figgin's office. She had only the intention of dropping off the auditorium key she'd been given then going right home to start repacking and prepping herself mentally for the trip back to New York. But when she turned the corner and saw Emma through the glass walls of Figgin's office sitting and crying across from Figgins, Eric playing on the floor, she quickened her steps and pushed through the doors to see what was wrong.

"You," Emma said once she was Rachel coming through the door as she jumped to her feet, her finger wagging in Rachel's direction as she spoke, "It has to be you because there is no one else. No one else is qualified and Sandy Ryerson is in prison."

"What's going on?" Rachel questioned completely puzzled by Emma's tears and insistence that Rachel was the only one. And Sandy Ryerson was in prison? It was only a matter of time.

"You need to stay," Emma barked, "If those kids can't go to competition it will kill him sooner."

Rachel was known for making similar statements, but there was no way she could decode Emma's distressed ramblings, "Sooner? What-who are you talking about?"

A sudden silence fell over the room and Emma and Figgins exchanged a glance that made Rachel fear the words about to be said more than the silence.

"He's sick," Emma spat out with anger.

"What?" Rachel said, "Sick how?"

Emma lowered herself back into her seat, "Cancer" she said but she wasn't looking at Rachel or Figgins, she was looking at Eric playing on the floor.

Rachel suddenly felt as if her heart had stopped beating, this was the last thing she had expected to hear from Emma.

"How long?" Rachel questioned, "How long have you known?"

"We found out about a month before Quinn's wedding."

"Why didn't he tell us? He should have told us."

"He wasn't going to ruin Quinn's day. It meant so much to him to get to walk her down the aisle he didn't want her to hate him by ruining the mood."

"Where is he?"

"Chicago. That's where he was this week. There's a doctor out there that Tina told him about. We're going to see if they can help make everything…less severe."

"Less severe?" Rachel shouted, "How bad is it?"

Rachel could tell that Emma was trying not to break down and Rachel's heart broke for her.

"The doctors here say probably no more than a year. But it'd break him if these kids couldn't go to competition. And if he's not in high spirits I don't know what will happen to him if that affects his response to treatment. You have to stay and coach Rachel. He's worked so hard for the last nine years for it all to come to an end because he can't do it anymore."

"I-I'd love to help but I'm going back to New York on Sunday. I have a job."

"Quit it! Take this Rachel," Emma said an almost angry tone in her voice that Rachel had rarely seen over the years, "for Will."

Rachel had only been speechless a few times in her life and standing in front of two authority figures from her teenage years, one she now considered a friend, Rachel could not find the words. She had no idea what the right words were. Were there right words at all? Rachel's mind was moving in several directions none of which could make sense of the news. She tried to simultaneously digest the news of Will's illness as well as accept that Emma was asking her to give up her job and life in New York. She wanted to help but she wasn't sure what doing this meant for everything else.

"I'll think about it," Rachel said looking over at Eric and not either of the adults, "It's the best I can do right now."

The worried look in Emma's eyes didn't disappear but Rachel saw something shift and she tried to believe that it was hope. She thought that Emma really believed that Rachel helping with glee would potentially save Will. Emma just nodded in response.

When Rachel got home she immediately told her Dads about everything that had happened at McKinley that afternoon.

"We'll support you, whatever you decide, you know that. But we think you should stay," Benjamin said.

"I have a job in New York Daddy," Rachel countered.

"That you hate," Benjamin countered

"I do not," Rachel said offended.

"You do too. You hate being an errand girl. You only stayed because you and Noah needed the money and because you keep hoping the right person would hear you sing and give you the break you've been waiting for since you moved out there after high school. You left Noah sweetie, so really there's nothing left for you."

"So what? You expect me to just give up."

"That's not what your Dad is saying Rachel," Sheldon interjected, "But maybe takes this time to help Will and reevaluate your goals."

"Dad my goals haven't changed since preschool."

"Then maybe your plan needs reevaluating. This isn't going to be permanent."

"And what if…if he…what if he dies? I'm just supposed to walk way then."

"You're thinking in extremes Rachel. But if the doctor in Chicago helps he's going to get to live a lot longer than the doctors here think the will."

"How do you know about Chicago?"

"We've known about Will for a while now. When things started looking bad for him, he asked me to draw a will."

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"He made us promise not to. He' was going to tell you guys soon, Christmas maybe, when everyone was in town again."

"What am I going to do?" Rachel cried throwing herself into the chair. She thought that she was being selfish for a moment because this whole situation was really about Will, but as worried about him as she was, this was affecting her more than it would have if she'd simply just discovered that Will was sick. But she was being asked to change her life and she tried to hear the tiny voice in the back of her head that said he would have done the same for her.

"That's completely up to you."

Rachel sighed in frustration because she didn't know what she wanted to do but as she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket she pulled it out to see what it was Quinn calling.

"Hello?" Rachel answered.

"You need to come over right now. My wedding pictures came and I need you to see these Rachel, they're gorgeous. How soon can you get here?" Quinn said quickly into the phone and Rachel could tell that she was really excited.

"Uh, give me fifteen minutes Quinn," Rachel said.

"Is everything alright?" Quinn asked and Rachel cursed herself for not using her acting skills.

"Uh yeah. I'll talk to you when I get there."

"Hurry," Quinn said, her voice muffled by what Rachel knew from several previous conversations as the presence of food in her mouth, "I have these delicious chocolate snack things but if Sam comes in here again there might not be any left."

Rachel nodded though Quinn couldn't see her, "All right."

Rachel hung up the phone and stood up from the chair to put it back into the pocket of her jeans. She bid goodbye to her fathers and both wished her luck on making her decision.

Quinn's wedding photos were, as expected, beautiful. Though thumbing through the binder on her lap, Rachel thought that the pictures didn't do any justice to Quinn's beauty that day. Rachel continued to flip through the binder as Quinn gushed about how beautiful or handsome everyone looked and how glad she was that she didn't choose hideous bridesmaid's dresses because they would have totally ruined the pictures, while Rachel tired not to drift away and imagine herself in that white dress (sans Sam of course).

As Quinn went on and on about how perfect everything was, Rachel flipped the page of the binder to a picture she'd forgotten had been taken. It was of her, Puck, and Will. She studied Will's features for a sign of something that she should have noticed and of course there were plenty. But she wouldn't have questioned them if she didn't know that it was anything to worry about. He looked so much thinner and his face was paler. She wondered how he felt that day. She thought for a moment that Will may have felt absolutely terrible and had just wanted to curl up in bed but had come out just for Quinn and her eyes quickly filled with tears before several came pouring from their threshold. Quinn who had been glowing with happiness turned to her concerned.

"What?" she asked as she moved over to look at the picture Rachel had started crying over. The moment she saw Puck in the picture she moved to embrace Rachel in her arms whispering over and over again that it was going to be okay and Rachel was almost certain she heard Quinn whisper 'fuck him' and Rachel pulled back for a moment and looked at Quinn with her teary eyes and shook her head.

"I'm not crying over Noah," Rachel informed her friend.

"Then what?"

Rachel wasn't sure if this was the way Quinn should hear the news but Emma had never said anything about not saying anything and Rachel really didn't want to come up with something to get out of this (and Quinn would have seen through everything anyway).

So she told her everything, about Will, about the job they were offering her, her parents involvement and it resulted in the two of them crying and Rachel sobbing "What am I going to do?"

Quinn wiped what remained of her tears from her cheek and looked Rachel square in the eyes, "I think you're dads are right. You weren't happy with your job in New York you don't have anything but the tiny apartment you got two days ago."

"So you agree with them? You think I should just give up on my dreams?"

"No one is saying that Rachel. This isn't permanent," Quinn said practically repeating the words Rachel's fathers had said earlier, "Plus, I wouldn't mind having my best friend a little closer than a phone call." "Cheap shot Fabray, cheap shot," Rachel responded smirking.

"Do you think Will will be alright?" Quinn said turning the mood back to its previously solemn nature.

Rachel shrugged then leaned back into the cushions of Quinn's couch, "I don't know. Supposedly the doctors in Chicago are supposed to help."

"And you helping with glee."

"That too."

"If you're asking me, and I'm sure that you are, you have to stay. And I'm sure they'll let you do a number or two like Shuester did."

"As much as I'm sure they will hate that; but I have to let Figgins know by tomorrow so I think I'm going to sleep on it."

"But you're staying?"

"I'm not saying anything until I know for sure," Rachel said though she was pretty sure that she already had already made a decision.

Sure enough the next morning, Rachel walked into McKinley before Principal Figgins had even arrived and after she startled the man she went into full Rachel mode explaining how she would run the glee club until after sectionals and once Will was better she would co-run it with him until no longer than the end of the school year. Figgins gratefully approved and Rachel stopped by Emma's office on the way to deliver the news and received a teary smile, thank you and hug.

That night after she had called and put in her leave of absence at work and had called to unfortunately lose her deposit on the tiny apartment she had been planning on living in once she returned to New York, she called up Quinn to let her know that she should get used to her hanging around for the next few months and Quinn squealed into the phone so loudly that Rachel had to pull the receiver away from her hear to prevent any damage from occurring.

"You need new clothes!"

"Why do I need new clothes? I don't need new clothes."

"Yes. You should show up on Monday in a skirt and an animal sweater."

"Are you insane? If I remember correctly you made fun of me terribly for those sweaters."

"Because you had the guts to wear them! You're going to officially be part of the glee club again; don't you want to look like you did in high school?"

"No. And while I'm almost certain that my closet at my dads' house still has most of my old clothes, including those sweaters, however I am not wearing them, ever again actually."

"Fine," Quinn said pouting with her disappointment, "So what did Puck say when you told him you weren't coming back to New York anytime soon?" "I haven't told him."

"You haven't? When are you going to tell him?"

"We're moving on. I don't need to check in."

"He's going to want to know about this Rachel."

"Then you can tell him the next time you talk to him. And while you're at it can you also ask him to so kindly pack up my things and have them shipped here and I will reimburse him for the charges."

"You're not going to talk to him yourself?"

"Not if I can avoid it. So please do me this favor Quinn."

"You're lucky you're my best friend."

Granted he was hung over because once he got to the bar with a couple of his co-workers on a Friday, he couldn't convince himself to leave until last call was well over. The sun was piercing his eyes through the gap in the curtains and he cursed as he pushed the blanket off of him and slowly pulled himself out of bed. Despite the fact that it was way too early and that he had a pounding headache, Puck made his way towards the bathroom for a much needed (and hopefully helpful shower). Just as he passed the bed his foot collided with something hard and he shouted into the empty room. Lazily he looked down to find a shoe, one that had been there for over a week that he had just conveniently stepped over time and time again, only this time in the midst of his hangover when he couldn't focus on anything but the throbbing in his brain, he'd forgotten it was there and his foot crashed right into it.

Once he could comprehend more than the pain in his foot, Puck postponed his trip to the bathroom and reached across the bed to grab his phone off the nightstand. Flipping through his contacts he sent a simple message.

Get your shit.

Puck closed the phone and threw it onto the bed where it disappeared into the comforter and continued his on his original journey to the bathroom groaning the whole time with frustration. He was frustrated that his head was pounding, that his boss had insisted that he come in early through a text message received while he already half way past sober (not that it stopped him from continuing), he had a throbbing in his foot, and you know, Rachel left him and her shit was still littered all over the apartment, he wasn't getting much sleep, and well, Rachel left him. He'd come up with a plan. He was going to try to talk some sense into her when she came to get the rest of her stuff, but he was pretty sure she should have been back in New York by now and from the amount of shit that was hers lying around the apartment still, she hadn't come to get any of it. He had called Quinn the night before, but she didn't answer and there was absolutely no point in calling Rachel. She would at least read the text and hopefully come, and when he was home. But the text, as nasty as it was, had been his first attempt to contact Rachel since she'd left and he honestly doubted it would make her come running back home. That and he still hadn't changed his mind about the whole marriage thing.

Rachel couldn't remember Sectionals ever being as nerve wrecking as it was this year, when she had to chaperone more than twenty teenagers to the competition. She'd managed to convinced Sam and Quinn to come with her and she had been in constant contact with Will and after he had thanked her for the billionth time for doing this, Rachel promised him she would call him right before New Directions went on so that he could hear it. She was lucky (and relieved) to find out that Will had already booked everything so the tedious things were taken care of. Now all she had to do was drive the hour to the competition, make sure nothing completely dramatic happened (this was New Directions after all) watch them perform and hope that they at least placed (more for Will and less so they couldn't blame her for being bad luck for the team).

So Rachel was relieved when not only did New Directions place, they won their sectional. The whole ride back to McKinley the team celebrated while Rachel, Quinn and Sam recounted the least dramatic sectionals for New Directions, which just happened to be the first competition for Sam, where the only drama was the fact that Finn had slept with Santana and Rachel Berry had no solos. Rachel reached into her purse and pulled out her phone which she had been ignoring most of the day. The only time she paid it much attention was when she called Will during the group's performance and she hadn't bothered to check any of her messages in the mean time. She had only two text messages, one from Will thanking he that she quickly replied to requesting he no longer thank her because truth was that she loved it. She went back and looked at the other text she had and saw that it was from Puck and froze before opening it. She read over the three simple words and her heart broke and she felt a wave of sadness wash over her. They hadn't talked since she had left and he chose those crass words as his first attempt to speak with her. She pushed back the urge to cry, she'd have plenty of time for that once she wasn't playing teacher. Instead she looked at the text once more before reaching into the seat next to her and dropping her phone in Quinn's lap.

"Noah text me," Rachel said before she sank back into the corner of her seat.

Quinn looked extremely happy and hopeful until she read the text message before passing the phone off to Sam so he could read.

"That jerk," Quinn said taking the phone back from Sam and handing it to Rachel, "You should let me respond to him."

"No. We're just going to leave it. But please make that phone call for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Rachel said because now that he was being cruel to her, what else could she do.