Rachel closed the door to her bedroom and leaned against it, taking slow, deep breaths. For an entire week, she had to pretend as if being back in Lima wasn't driving her crazy. She had to act like seeing her old school, her old dance studio, her old coffee shop and grocery store and - just all of it wasn't breaking her heart all over again. Seeing Lima was like slowly opening a wound that never quite healed, and Rachel was bleeding everywhere. She could feel the anguish and anger building as she showed Bella around town, pointing at everything from behind the wheel of a truck that the old Rachel would have hated. Lima represented everything that made Rachel run in the first place.
But it was Saturday morning, and she had to return to McKinley in two days.
Rachel would be back at McKinley, a different person in a sea full of people who never gave her the benefit of the doubt, and she would have to hold onto the person she became under the cloudy Washington skies. Because Lima had a way of peeling away her defenses, leaving her exposed, and taking from her everything that she had.
Rachel pushed off her door and shuffled to her bed. She snatched her phone off the pillow and sat against her headboard, stretching out her legs. She pretended not to notice how her feet were no longer inches away from the edge, and how her head was above the headboard. The sudden four inches she grew in Washington had been explained away under late genetics, and Leroy accepted it at face value.
Just like everything else.
Rachel knew she would have to tell her father the truth soon, the whole truth, but she didn't even know where to start. Did she tell him that the girl who used to come over and play dress up with Rachel turned out to be a conniving and manipulative bitch? Did she tell him that a stupid fight between her sister and a supernatural coven of vampires ended up forever altering her DNA, and now she was practically immortal? How does that even come up in conversation? Rachel rubbed the bridge of her nose and sent Mike a text before doing the one thing she hadn't since she arrived in Lima - log in to her Instagram. She stopped to like a picture of Mike, Jessica, and Angela back in La Push for the tail end of their summer break, dressed in wet suits and grinning wide at the camera. They were all at University of Washington, far, far away from Forks, but it was nice to know they came home. Her heart ached for the friends she wouldn't have anymore, and while part of her would have loved to stay in Forks, Lima was home, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was running away.
Rachel put a heart emoji under the image and went to her main page. She looked over her last two years, captured with landscape shots from her "unsanctioned" hikes with Quil and Jared, and some late night pictures of the bonfires on the beach. But at the very bottom, Rachel had one singular picture from Lima, and it was the first one she posted when she made the new account. It was also the last picture ever taken of her before she left.
It was her in the auditorium after her meeting with Coach Sylvester and Figgins over her potential expulsion. When she didn't meet Mike in the parking lot, he came back in and found her sitting on the stage, staring at the floor. The spotlight had been left on, and it was off-center just enough to cast Rachel in a shadow. Mike said it was his magnum opus.
Rachel snorted and clicked over to her old account. Her follower count was down, unsurprising, and there were a few comments left on her old pictures that made her frown. But she figured most people got tired of it and moved on when they realized she wasn't responding. She went to her friends' list and scrolled down. The first thing she did was go to Noah's page, mostly because Mike had been suspiciously quiet about him.
"Well, that explains it," she muttered.
Noah wasn't even in Lima anymore. He and his sister were apparently in California with their half-brother and father. There were very little comments as to why, and Rachel found herself almost disenchanted by the entire thing. Still, she unfollowed his page. She and Noah hadn't been friends since before she left. Her "Jew-bro" had fallen victim to the dangers of the high school pecking order just like everyone else. Rachel was left behind while he stepped on heads to get to the top, and she felt it was better if they left it at that. Suddenly regretting her decision to venture into the past, Rachel was about to close the app when a notification from her other page caught her attention. She was shocked to see it was a follow request from Santana.
Which was weird because Santana made it clear they would never be close enough to becoming social media friends.
Ever.
Rachel clicked on the page, only to find it private, and that was the only reason Rachel said yes and sent a request of her own. It took less than a minute for Santana to accept it, and Rachel found herself on an account much different from the one she expected. There were no photos of cheer competitions, no trophies or ribbons, no videos of routines, and more importantly, no pictures of Brittany. Which was strange because Rachel could've sworn that Mike told her that Brittany and Santana had gotten together junior year.
Rachel chewed on her bottom lip as she looked through Santana's page. There was a picture of Santana standing in a diner-type kitchen with the biggest smile, Santana in chef whites and posing on the sidewalk with who Rachel assumed was Quinn dressed as Joan Jett; Santana near a grill with a sling on her shoulder and Coach Svlvester hovering behind her; and Santana mid-jump onto some blonde guy's back at a football game. But again, none of Brittany. None of cheerleading. Not even one random snapshot of the Glee club. None of anyone but Quinn and that blonde kid, plus a few of Coach Syvlester and Miss Pillsbury.
But the most recent picture is of Santana and Quinn on a balcony overlooking downtown Lima, their smiles genuine toward whoever took the photo. Rachel tapped the photo twice without thinking too much into it, watching the little heart appear between their faces, and she ignored the fluttering in her own heart.
No matter how far she ran from them, some deeper part of her would always love them. And then she found the little red icon at the far right. Rachel clicked on it, opening Santana's DM.
S. LosPez: You are a hard person to track down, SwanKeeper.
S. LosPez: I didn't think you would accept.
TheSwanKeeeper: That was the point.
TheSwanKeeeper: And I almost didn't.
S. LosPez: Then why did you?
TheSwanKeeeper: Morbid curiosity.
It took a moment, but Rachel gathered her nerve and sent a follow-up.
TheSwanKeeeper: What happened to your old page? The one where you always denied my request?
S. LosPez: I deleted it.
S. LosPez: What happened to yours?
TheSwanKeeeper: I still have it. But being called a slut got old after a while.
Feeling petty, Rachel typed her next question and hit send.
TheSwanKeeeper: No pictures of your girlfriend on the new one? Strange. How does she feel about that?
S. LosPez: Considering Quinn is my girlfriend, I would say she's okay with it.
S. LosPez: Unless you were referring to my ex. If so, then I don't care how she feels about it.
Well, that answered that question. Rachel knew Santana was baiting her into asking, so she went in a different direction.
TheSwanKeeeper: No Cheerio pics either? How do I know this is even Santana and not some prank?
For nearly five minutes, Rachel waited for a response. Santana read the message and was still online, but just when Rachel was about to apologize for overstepping, a new message came through.
S. LosPez: There are no pictures of the squad because I don't cheer anymore. As for your proof…
The next message was a picture, and Rachel opened it to see Santana on the same balcony from her page with a clear shot of the clock in the background. Rachel took in the subtle differences: the streaks of light brown in her hair, the faint scar on her jawline, and the hat with Escoffier written across the top. Rachel saved it and finally noticed she had a message waiting.
S. LosPez: Satisfied?
TheSwanKeeeper: Mildly.
S. LosPez: I'm not sending another one.
TheSwanKeeeper: I wasn't asking.
Santana didn't respond for a few minutes, and Rachel laid on her side. She warred with herself on returning the favor, and by the time a new message came through, Rachel had already taken several snaps of herself.
S. LosPez: I hope that you're enjoying life wherever you are, Swan Keeper.
TheSwanKeeper: Is that your way of asking me where I am? And you can call me by my name, you know.
S. LosPez: Would you tell me if I asked?
S. LosPez: I could call you by your name. But how do I know this is you…
S. LosPez: Rachel.
"Fuck it," she sighed.
Rachel sent a picture of herself lying on the bed, her old Forks High hoodie on full display, and left it at that. Sure, Santana could put two and two together, realize that Rachel was (had been) in Washington, but it didn't matter. By the time Monday rolled around, the secret would be out anyway. Rachel logged out of her account, even though she saw the response, and threw the phone to the side. She put a pillow against her face and screamed. The floorboard creaked, and Rachel found herself holding Mike up by the collar, and he held up his hands.
"Whoa, whoa! It's just me!"
Rachel released him and said, "Damnit, Mike. Do not sneak up on me, okay?"
"No shit! I thought you heard me knock."
"Obviously not. How did you get in, anyway?"
"Your Dad let me in, said I was to make sure you didn't run to New York or whatever."
Rachel rolled her eyes and flopped on the bed, covering her face with her arm. The bed dipped beside her, and Mike picked up her arm.
"Hey, stranger," he greeted.
Rachel let him move her sideways into his chest, and she said, "Hi, I am sorry about earlier. I have gotten a lot jumpier over the last few months."
"No harm done." Mike propped his head and glanced down. "Also, when you said you were redoing your room, I didn't think you meant it. You were pretty attached to that pink," he said.
"I changed."
"So I see. You okay?"
"No. Yes? I have no idea. Santana found my new page on Instagram." At Mike's guilty look, Rachel groaned. "And you are the one who gave it to her," she said.
"She'd been asking about you for the last couple of weeks, and I figured by now it wouldn't be too bad. Was I wrong?"
Rachel exhaled and said, "You are very lucky I'm too emotionally drained to kick your ass off this bed. And what do you mean she has been asking?"
"She and Quinn have been asking me about you for almost six months now. Possibly even since the moment you left. When Mr. Schue announced that you transferred schools over the break, the two of them were the most upset. Of course, I never told them where you were or anything, mostly because I didn't know until a month later, but I've been fielding questions about you for the last two years. "
"But why?"
"Why what?"
"To all of it!"
"I don't know."
Rachel wrapped her arms around him fully, and then she scrunched her face. "Who's the blonde kid in Santana's pictures?" she asked.
"Sam. He moved here the summer after you left."
"He seems pretty close to Santana."
"Yeah, and to Quinn. They're best friends, so much so that they all live together." Mike reached for Rachel's phone and pulled up Santana's page, clicking on the last picture. "This was taken at their apartment. Sam is the one holding the camera," he explained.
"They live together?"
"Santana inherited the apartment from her brother, I think. And that's all I know. I only found out because Sam invited me over for a history project. Beyond me? Only Coach Sue, Coach Beiste, and Emma know about it."
"Oh."
"Jealous?" he teased, rubbing her back.
"Not in the least."
"Sure. But in case you were, you have nothing to worry about. Sam came out on day one of moving to Lima, and they have this sibling type relationship."
Rachel looked up at him and said, "I cannot believe I missed you."
"Two years is a long time to be gone. And six months is a long time to not answer my phone calls. If it weren't for your Dad keeping me updated, I would've been on a plane to Forks."
"As I am sure he told you, my phone was destroyed in an accident, and I was using my adopted father's cell for most communication. I did not get a new number and phone until you heard from me."
"And the whole running without telling me?"
"I was done with Lima. I needed to go," she said.
"And that meant ghosting me?"
"Yeah, a little bit," she admitted. Mike was visibly hurt by the sentiment, and Rachel turned slightly, cupping his cheek. "I kept a lot of things from you back then, so you could not see how bad it was getting. The last thing I wanted was for you to see me like that," she added.
"I'm your best friend."
"That is exactly my point."
Mike huffed and pushed at her until she let him go, and he rolled himself off the bed.
"So where's this sister of yours?"
Rachel's hand flopped to the bed, and she slowly got to her feet. She tugged Mike close by the shirt. Her new height made it so she didn't have too far to look him in the eyes, and he reluctantly met her gaze.
"Please do not be mad at me," she said.
"I'm not mad. I'm hurt. There's a difference."
"Okay, then how can I make it up to you?"
Mike narrowed his eyes and said, "You have to tell me what happened between you and Brittany."
"Who said anything happened?" she asked.
"It was obvious something big went down between you two when you burned all her old gifts in the backyard. You just kept telling me she was dead to you.."
"Hm. How drunk was I?"
"Wasted," he laughed. "Your Dad was more pissed about us nearly setting his lawn on fire than getting into his liquor."
"Damn." Rachel let go of his shirt and sighed. "I will tell you, but not today."
"Tomorrow."
"Wednesday."
"Tuesday, or no deal."
"Fuck, fine."
Mike smiled cheekily and said, "Then we have a deal. Let's go meet your sister."
"Asshole."
Rachel led him out to the hall and knocked on Bella's door. Bella, with her very wet blonde and very recently cut hair, opened the door with an expectant look.
"What the fuck? What did you do to your hair?" Rachel exclaimed.
"Felt like doing something different. Is this Mike?"
"Sup," he greeted. "I like the look."
"Thanks, one sec."
Bella turned and disappeared into her room. It was painted silver and black, something Rachel disagreed with when Bella first mentioned it, but one half-hearted mention of Rosalie made her let it go. Bella returned with a pair of glasses and leaned against the frame.
"My bad," she said. "I couldn't really see you, but it's nice to officially meet you, Rachel's best friend that she talked about all of the time in Washington. If I didn't know she was a raging homosexual, I would've thought you two were dating."
"Raging feels like a stretch," Rachel muttered under her breath.
"Nah, it's true. But what's up, Bella, Rachel's super secret sister that I only found out about last year."
"I'm her dirty little secret."
"Please stop saying that," Rachel sighed.
"I've only said it twice."
"And both times were creepy."
"You know, I see it now," Mike said.
"See what?" they asked, turning toward him.
"That you're sisters. You act just alike."
"No, we do not. Bella is a delinquent."
"And Rachel's vegan."
"For the last time, veganism is not a bad thing nor is it a personality trait."
"I disagree on both counts."
"You are so annoying." Rachel pushed Bella back into her room. "Get dressed so we can go," she said.
"Go where?"
"I told you three times we were getting lunch with Mike today."
"Eh, I wasn't listening. But fine, I'll get dressed. And you're going to change too, I hope?"
"Obviously," Rachel said, exasperated.
"Good because I raised you better than that."
Bella slammed the door on her response, and Rachel turned back to Mike with a tight smile.
"So, that is my sister," she said.
"Oh, she's going to be a hit at school," he said.
"That is what scares me. Where are we going?"
"A diner."
Rachel scrunched her face as they went back to her room and said, "I refuse to introduce my sister to O'Malley's."
"I wasn't talking about that place," he said.
"Lima has another one?" she asked.
"Yep, It's not as popular because you have to know where it is, but I promise it's worth it." Rachel hummed and disappeared into her closet, and Mike sat on her bed. "All right, so now that you're back and so very open with information. Tell me what was the craziest thing that happened in Forks."
Rachel paused as she took off her pants, glancing at the claw marks going down her hip to her thigh, and she said, "Nothing. It was boring on all accounts."
Mike parked and shut off the car.
"You should know the last time I followed a guy into the woods, he broke up with me and sent me spiraling into a ten- month long depression," Bella said.
"Okay," Mike said slowly. "I'm sorry to hear that, but we're parking here because the lot is being repaved. The diner is around the corner."
Bella narrowed her eyes but got out of the car. Rachel followed suit, and the three of them trudged through the woods before reaching their destination. The diner was beautiful. It was bright red with pink and white accents, and it genuinely did look like someone ripped it from the 50s and dropped it in Lima.
"I apologize for doubting you," Bella said, looking at the diner. "This place looks amazing."
"Yeah, it's even cooler on the inside," Mike said.
"Strawberry Wine," Bella said, pointing to the neon sign. "Like the song, right?"
"The original owner was a fan, so the new owner wanted to honor him," Mike said.
"Why's it so empty?"
"Because they're closed for the day," Mike said.
"Mike!" Rachel exclaimed.
"Just trust me. She already knows I'm coming."
"She?"
Mike winked, and Rachel scoffed and shoved her hands into her coat.
"I meant to ask you this earlier, but did you get taller?" Mike asked.
Rachel pursed her lips and said, "I hit a late spurt."
Mike stared at her, clearly not believing her, but he let it go and opened the door. Bella and Rachel stepped in after him, and Rachel's eyes went wide once she saw the interior.
"Damn, this place is cool as shit," Bella said.
The wall was covered in black and white pictures, images of Lima from as far back as the sixties, and it gave the place a time-capsule feel. Rachel noticed the jukebox and went over to it. She ran her fingers along the buttons, looking at all the different choices, and Mike came up behind her.
"See something you like? The owner says we can play whatever we want."
"Maybe later."
Rachel patted him on the arm and walked up behind Bella, pointing out the different Lima landmarks in the photos. Mike studied her for a moment, and Rachel pointedly ignored it. Giving up, Mike headed to a nearby cabinet, pulled out a few menus, and went to a table in the corner. Eventually, Rachel and Bella joined him. Rachel picked up her menu and turned it over, seeing that it only had one side.
"Small collection," she said.
"Today's diner fare. So things like a patty melt, cheese fries, and all that. There's also a vegan option for everything. I called ahead to make sure."
"Wow, that's so sweet. I would've let her suffer." Bella glanced at the menu and added, "Holy shit, this place has deep-fried Oreos."
"Bella," Rachel started.
"Deep-fried Oreos are God's gift to the world."
"And the Devil's gift to your stomach."
"That was one time."
"Four, but do what you want. Just avoid coming into my room and crying in the middle of the night because you have cramps." Bella stuck out her tongue, and Rachel knew that she was going to order them regardless. She shook her head and looked at Mike. "At least this place has a minimal smell of old grease and sweat," she added.
"That's because I take pride in what I own."
Rachel spun around, and Miss Pillsbury came over to their table.
"Miss Pillsbury? What are you doing here?"
"I own the place. And I told you years ago that it's okay to call me Emma." Emma shoved her hands into her apron and smiled at Rachel as she stepped closer to the table. "But I see the rumors are true then," she said.
"Which ones?" Rachel joked. "There have been a few.".
"The not-so public knowledge that you're back."
"Yeah, that one is true. Who all knows?"
"Outside of Figgins? That would be me, my fiancée, and Coach Beiste, I believe. You were labeled as need to know." Emma glanced at Bella and added, "I assume this is the Isabella Swan on my list?"
"Bella," Rachel corrected. "She is my sister."
"Wait, what list?"
"I have to meet with new students every semester. I promise it's only a formality to welcome you and make sure you have what you need."
"Yay."
"Also, forgive me if this is inappropriate, but your personal file never mentioned -
"I asked my father to make sure it was voided out. My personal life was already under attack, and it did not feel fair to bring her into it," Rachel interrupted, already knowing the question.
"Yes, of course. I didn't mean to pry."
"I know. But what about you? I mean, what happened to school counseling?"
"Oh, I'm still a counselor, sort of," Emma said, rubbing the back of her neck. "But I, um, over the summer, I reopened this place for nostalgia's sake."
"What made you want to take this step?"
"It wasn't necessarily a step that I wanted to make?" Emma laughed and massaged her hands. "My grandfather built this place when I was younger, and I was here so much that I can tell you all its secrets," she said. Then she sighed. "He passed away last December, and he left it to me with a pretty large inheritance. I took that money and renovated it. Made it something he and I both can be proud of."
"That's sweet of you," Bella said.
"Well, thank you. That means a lot. But enough about me and enough of me prying into your lives. When you're ready to order, just yell through the window."
"You're cooking too?" Rachel asked.
"I gave my chef the day off," she said, eyes glinting with something Rachel couldn't figure out. "So for today, I'm your gal."
"But what about your germ thing?" Rachel asked awkwardly.
"My partner has been helping me get over that," she said. "And as you can see, it's working."
Rachel didn't know how to respond to that, not wanting to imagine Mr. Schue being a decent human being. Emma just winked and walked off. Rachel turned her attention to Mike.
"Is this why you were being so secretive?"
"Yeah, the diner is a well-hidden secret. It really means a lot to Emma, and she wants to protect it. And to answer the question I know you're about to ask, Figgins demoed Emma to student liaison. So she's not so much a counselor as she is an advisor."
"What made him do that?"
"She asked for it." Mike toyed with the ketchup before adding, "Emma's been a real lifesaver for me, Sam, and a few others, and she's opened her doors to those of us who really didn't have anywhere else to turn. She's more than someone we see at school. She's a friend."
"It sounds like I've missed quite a bit."
"You have." Mike then met her gaze head-on. "And despite you trying to hide it, it appears I've missed quite a bit too. No one hits a growth spurt this late, Rachel, and no one puts on enough muscle to lift me clear off the ground. Especially not you, and not in twenty months. When you're ready to tell me, I'll be here. Until then, let's just act like nothing's changed. Deal?"
"Deal," Rachel sighed. "Thank you."
Mike nodded and picked up his menu, essentially ending the conversation. Bella put her hand on Rachel's thigh and squeezed twice. Rachel released the tension in her shoulders and followed Mike's lead. After a moment, Bella put her menu down and clapped her hands together.
"Well, I know what I want."
"Dare I ask?" Rachel said.
"A steak melt with extra bacon, a side of cheese fries, and a double order of fried Oreos."
"I hope your arteries clog."
"Rude."
Later that evening, Rachel and Mike sat in her truck, parked in her driveway.
"Are you okay, Rae? Truly?"
"Better than I was, yes," she admitted. "But I promise I am not hiding this from you because I do not trust you. It is far more complicated than I can even begin to explain. And there are things that I am still coming to terms with. Once that happens, I promise to let you in, okay?"
"Yeah, okay," he said. "I trust you."
"Thank you."
Rachel rested her head on the headrest and ran a finger over her knuckles.
"You know, a few days before we moved back, we were at a beach party. There was this guy bothering Bella. I could tell he was getting to her, and then he put his hands on her. The next thing I remember is being on top of him and just hitting him over and over again. Bella pulled me off, but I remember looking down at my hand. There was blood all over my knuckles and fingers, and the guy was half-conscious. That was when I knew something had changed."
Mike shifted in his seat, patient as always, and Rachel flexed her hands.
"I went to Forks to heal, but I think I broke myself more in the process. Or maybe I put together a version of me that is so vastly different from the girl I used to be that it scares me. I admit that I am scared I am not as brave as I think I am. I can admit now that I am scared about Monday, that I will walk into school, see those people again, and shatter. They took so much from me."
"Okay, so don't let them take anything more. Screw them, Rae," he said. "Screw everyone, especially the Glee club, because I know that's who you're really worried about."
"I left without saying anything-
"Who cares? You did nothing wrong."
"You said the club fell apart without me."
"But that doesn't mean it was because of you."
"Is there a difference?"
"Yes! The club ended because we spent more time going than practicing. Not to mention the shit storm that happened between Finn, Brittany, and Santana."
"Does it have anything to do with how Santana went from dating Brittany to dating Quinn?"
"Short of it is, Santana found out that Brittany has been sleeping with Finn. It came out later that they'd been going behind Santana's back for a while." Rachel bit her cheek so hard she drew blood, but Mike didn't notice. "Sam and I had missed a rehearsal for study hall, and we were coming from the locker rooms when we heard all this screaming. We turned the corner, and it was just - Santana was so angry. And Quinn? Quinn was worse.
"In the end, Finn's mother raised Hell. Santana got kicked off the squad, lost this once in a lifetime scholarship to UCLA, and was suspended for a month. She lost practically everything. Quinn was suspended for a week and quit both the team and the club. They isolated themselves, and I guess one thing led to another. They've only been officially together since June."
Rachel didn't have anything to say to that, her own trauma making it hard for her to respond without bias, and Mike didn't push her on it. They sat in silence until Leroy knocked on the window, and they got out.
Rachel hugged Mike goodnight. He kissed the top of her head, and she waited outside until his car was out of sight. When he was gone, she tilted her head and glanced over her shoulder. Bella sat on the porch steps with two cups of cocoa, and Rachel wondered how her sister always knew when she needed her. Bella raised one as a silent request, and Rachel went to her. She sat down and took the cup, and despite her best efforts, Rachel couldn't stop the boiling anger in her chest.
Even after all that time, Brittany still couldn't help herself.
Rachel didn't know she'd broken the cup until Bella pried the remaining pieces from her fingers. Rachel's hands were shaking, and she felt her unwanted co-pilot demanding vengeance. Bella put her hand on Rachel's shoulder, and the touch grounded her in the moment. Rachel calmed down, and she fell into her sister's side.