Author's Note: I realized somewhere in the last chapter I'd put 'Shelby could really use a mom right now,' instead of Rachel-whoops! Hahah. But I went back and changed it before re-uploading so for those who have this on 'story alert,' and you're wondering why you got another alert for chapter four it's because I had to re upload it after I fixed it.
Starophie- You never know, there may or may not be Faberry action later on. I haven't quite decided what I want to do with them, but there will be a friendship.
Reillyt4- Thanks for the heads up about the mistake! I never noticed. Hah. The things that come out when you write at three in the morning.
JackyKay- Like I said with Starophie-there may or may not be Faberry, but I'm not sure. As of right now, until Rachel begins her healing process-there will only be a friendship between the two. And the Gleeks do know about the rape, I apologize. You'll see how in this chapter.
Hollie.14- Trust me, Shelby will definitely be involved-especially since I love Idina Menzel and I thought the story line was a huge jip. I still don't understand why Ryan bothered to bring her on for the back nine if he wasn't going to give her a decent enough story line. I'm pretty sure that a lot of fans(or at least some of the one's I've talked too recently) are very pissed off about the way it ended up as well. I know I am.
….
Dinner that night was quiet, and Rachel could do nothing but stare at her plate as she pushed the food around. She wanted to say something, anything to her father's, her mother, but she didn't know what. It was as if she'd suddenly forgotten how to speak. Her mouth was dry and her throat was burning and she felt pain radiating through her even as she did something as simple as take a breath.
Rachel had yet to even acknowledge her mother, hiding away in her room until her father's called her down for dinner. She didn't want to move unless she had too, and unfortunately for her-she had too. As she sucked in a small breath, she winced lightly at the small twinge of pain she felt in her ribs. She wasn't hungry, the food on her plate looked nauseating and she was suddenly growing very, very warm. With shaking hands she pushed back her chair, cringing at the screeching sound it made against the tiles before she picked up her plate and took it to the sink, scraping everything into the disposal and turning it on.
"Honey, aren't you hungry? You haven't eaten in days."
But Rachel didn't care. She quickly shook her head as she pulled at the sleeves of her throw-over sweatshirt turning back on her heel to face her father's and mother was eying her with suspicion and worry. Rachel knew why she was worried, knew why she was so suspicious. She wasn't eating, wasn't speaking and she was so closed off from the world around her. Rachel had to practically fight to keep her emotions in check and her eyes open and all she ever did now was sleep and shower vigorously to try and wipe him off of her.
But no matter how hard she scrubbed it was no use. He was inside of her now and she couldn't do a damn thing about it. She found herself slowly being drawn from her thoughts as she heard her mother's voice ring through her ears. "Rachel, I agree with your father's. You should really eat, you're getting too thin."
Rachel swallowed, shaking her head again. Didn't they see? Didn't they understand that she wasn't hungry? Eating felt like a chore now, along with everything else in her life and she just didn't have the energy or effort to keep up with it. She frowned lightly as the thought of wanting to die flashed through her head.
Did she? Did she want to die? Rachel was unsure, about that-and everything else.
But she did know one thing, she needed to get away from everyone that was suddenly staring at her, wanting her to speak. She knew they were growing tired of her silence, but she didn't do anything to stop it. She liked the silence. She liked it a lot.
….
A soft knock was heard at her door an hour later. She listened to the creak it made as it opened slightly and out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother enter the room. But not once did she tear her eyes away from the ceiling. She'd been lying on her bed, hands rested on her stomach, eyes looking upward for awhile now-and she made no effort to move.
"Rachel? Can we talk?"
Rachel sighed unhappily and shrugged her shoulders. She didn't care if they talked or not. Granted, Shelby would be the one to do all of the talking and Rachel would, if she felt like it, listen. She isn't quite sure when she got so careless, but it was starting to frighten her a little. She wasn't used to not caring, not speaking, not singing-but for once in her life, she thought silently, she was alright with that.
"I just…wanted to see how you were doing."
The question was rather redundant in itself but Shelby asked it anyway, and quickly stepped in the room and took a seat beside her daughter who had still refused to look at her. She got another shrug of her shoulders and Shelby sighed, defeated, feeling the tears begin to pool in the corners of her eyes. She'd never felt as helpless as she did at that point in time.
"Rachel," She pleaded voice soft. "Please talk to me."
Rachel sucked in a breath and slowly lifted herself into a seated position and finally, after what had felt like hours to Shelby, Rachel had torn her eyes away from the ceiling to look into her mother's green eyes.
She found herself opening her mouth, but closed it again when she realized that nothing was coming out. Shelby felt a lone tear trickle its way down her cheek as she reached out for her daughter. Rachel flinched out of instinct and turned away, curling up into a fetal position on her side as she struggled to breathe. Shelby watched hopelessly as her daughter's soft cries and ragged breaths soon filled the room. She had no idea what to do. Rachel wasn't allowing anyone near her and she wasn't speaking.
"Your father's are thinking about sending you back to school tomorrow." She find herself saying, her words delicate, dancing on her tongue. "Are you excited to go back to glee?"
Another stupid question. If Rachel was relatively excited about Glee, she would've gone back to school the day after the attack. She'd be singing happily around the house and chatting adamantly about solos but she wasn't. Not in the least.
"I heard about your therapy appointment today. Your dad's told me."
Shelby was once again met with no answer from her daughter. She felt her heart plummet into her stomach as she tried once again, to reach out to Rachel-delicately running her hands through the younger girl's hair. She pulled back again when Rachel elicited a small gasp and then drew in another ragged breath.
"How about watching some television?"
Rachel did nothing, said nothing but watched as Shelby clicked the power button on the remote and the evening news flashed on the screen. She could distinctly make out one of the women speaking, informing them about her attack a few nights ago. Rachel's eyes instantly went wide and she sat up quickly, her eyes flashing towards the screen as she continued.
"And in other news, a local high school girl, Rachel Barry was attacked a few nights ago, following a house party," Shelby instantly switched the channel as she noticed Rachel starting to shake again, tears dripping down her eyes. But Rachel was no longer paying attention, the only thing she could think about was the fact her attack was on the evening news. She felt her stomach turn as she raised a hand to her mouth.
People knew. Everyone at school would know. She stood on shaky limbs as she dashed towards the bathroom, ignoring her mother's worried pleas. She collapsed in front of the toilet, tears rushing faster like faucets from her eyes as she threw up the contents of her stomach. She felt a hand on her shoulder as another grasped her hair and she flinched again, before her stomach lurched and she leaned forward once more, dry heaving into the toilet until all she could do was gag and cry softly.
Shelby felt her hands shaking as she held her daughter's hair back while mentally degrading herself for not changing the channel faster, for turning the television on in the first place. She was supposed to be helping her daughter, not hurting her even more then she already was. When she saw Rachel was finished emptying her stomach she stood up, letting the girl slide away from the toilet until her back was pressed firmly against the tub. Shelby quickly ran a wash cloth under cold water, ringing it out before walking back to press it to her daughter's burning forehead. Rachel's eyes met hers and Shelby shuddered. The fear, the pain she saw in her daughter was almost unbearable and she soon found herself crying along with the smaller brunette until she'd scooped her up into her arms and they were rocking back and forth.
….
The next morning came too soon for Rachel and she found herself shuddering as her father shook her awake lightly, telling her they'd like if she tried to go to school. They did happen to give her an ultimatum though, saying that if she didn't feel like she could stay the whole day-someone would come to pick her up. She nodded weakly and slowly pulled herself out of bed, body weak and exhausted from the events of the night before. Her father quickly descended the stairs until she was left alone once more, staring at the closed door in front of her. She had to get ready, but she made no effort to do so.
She had to face these people and their accusing stares, the questions and looks she'd get, the fear she would inevitably face within seconds as she shuffled around her room trying to find something to cover her up. The bruises had started to fade, but she still couldn't let anyone see. As she pulled on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, something she'd gotten awhile back as a Christmas present from her father, she thought back to the texts and missed calls from the Glee kids.
It hit her like a bus and she had to take a moment to regain her composure. They knew already, they had to have. It would've explained why they asked so much, why they wanted to know how she was and if she needed anything. Maybe that's why Quinn had called her so much over the course of the last five days. Then again, it could've been something entirely different-but Rachel had known in the pit of her stomach that it wasn't.
She sifted through her drawers to find a suitable shirt, something that didn't show too much skin, something that kept her covered at all times. She settled on a white long sleeved shirt that had at one point, fitted perfectly to her but now clung loosely against her thinning frame. She grabbed a black sweatshirt and threw it on over top, grabbing her chucks she'd gotten awhile back (sensible shoes to wear when she didn't want to wear moccasins or flats) and slid them on her feet, tying them up slowly. For the first time since the night she was attacked, she finds herself looking in the mirror again. Her skin is still deathly pale and her eyes are dark and hollow, with purple bags under them.
A bruise aligns her right cheek and various cuts, small as they may be, are scattered along the features of her face. She groans under her breath, the noise barely audible as she fishes through her makeup bag for cover up. She doesn't want anyone to see them, see the bruises that rest on her skin and she scrubs the cover up across her face, trying desperately to hide the marks. They're still there when she's finished, but they're faint. She adds a small hint of dark eyeliner to her eyes and then puts the tube away. She doesn't bother to add blush or lip gloss or eye shadow because she just doesn't care enough. Who is she trying to impress? Who would she want to impress there? The answer is no one.
She runs a brush through her hair before throwing it into a messy pony tail, throwing her bag over her shoulder and hesitantly walking down the stairs, her phone bouncing in the back pocket of her jeans. She isn't ready to do this, she thinks. She's not even remotely close to being ready and as much as she wishes to hide out in her bedroom for the rest of eternity, she's aware she can't. Her father's are sitting patiently at the kitchen table, the two speaking softly as they sip casually on their coffee. Rachel isn't quite sure when Shelby left the night before, but she knows it was somewhere around eleven or twelve at night after the crying fit the two had, had long since passed and Rachel was once again asleep in her bed. She shakes herself from her plaguing thoughts as she stands in front of the two men who now hold worried expressions on their face. "Why don't you sit down and eat? We have a few minutes before we have to leave." Leroy says, his voice as delicate and careful as Shelby's was the night before. Rachel sighs and looks at her father's who eyes hold such hope and she reluctantly takes a seat and glances down at the plate in front of her. A mass of food is sat upon it and Rachel can feel her stomach turning at the mere thought of having to eat it. It's not that the food is disgusting by any means, her father's are both wonderful cooks, it's the simple fact that all she's done lately is cry and vomit and she isn't quite sure if she can get her stomach to settle long enough to digest food.
Hesitantly she picks up the fork and stabs the food around on her plate before slowly dragging it up to her mouth and popping it in, chewing carefully. Her stomach gives a small protest and she frowns, and her father's instantly pipe up with questions.
"Is the food not good, sweetie?" She swallows and shakes her head and they frown, thinking that she meant it wasn't. The food it good, she concurs silently, but her throat is on fire and her stomach won't cooperate to digest it and she isn't quite sure if she's going to throw up yet or not. She swallows the lump in her throat and takes another bite to assure them otherwise, and then another-slowly and surely finishing the plate before taking a large gulp of water to wash it down. Her stomach is turning more violently now and she quickly rests her hand on it, as if to still the nausea she's feeling. Her eyes cast a glance at the clock and she bites down on her lip, knowing she has to get going. Her father's are driving her, for that she is grateful, but that doesn't mean she wants to go anymore then she did before.
She clutches her bag close to her chest as she sits in the car, heading down the road towards the school with her father, Hiram driving and Leroy sitting in the passenger's seat, humming to whatever song is on the radio. Hiram casts a glance in her direction as he pulls up to the stairs in front of the school. "Remember our ultimatum sweetie. If you feel like you can't stay, call your father or I and we'll pick you up." Rachel nods. "Are you staying after for Glee practice?"
She hadn't thought about this. It's a Tuesday, which means she does indeed, have Glee practice today. With a reluctant shrug of the shoulders, she waves a small goodbye to her father's before heading hesitantly into the building. The hallways are empty, and she realizes as she heads in the direction of the front office, that everyone is already in first period. So much for not being late, she thinks-but in all honesty, she's glad she is. She didn't want to have to face everyone right away, she isn't sure if she would be able too.
The front office is buzzing with noise as she walks in but it quickly falls silent and she finds herself wanting to sink further into the oversized sweat shirt she's wearing as she nibbles o her bottom lip and hands the note to the secretary with shaking limbs. The woman gives her a polite smile, quickly scribbling something down on a piece of paper and then leaves her to get on her way to class. She makes it to her locker after what feels like an eternity and for a few moments, struggles to open it until she hears the click and it flies open, and the door nearly falling off its hinges as she haphazardly shoves her bag with the books she isn't in need of at the moment, into it. She lets it close with a small thud and then clicks the lock back in place before heading down the hallway, her heart beating loudly against her rib cage and her stomach turning. She knows she shouldn't have eaten because now she is aware of how increasingly worse her stomach is getting and she barely makes it into a stall in the women's bathroom before it comes back up. She sits there for a few moments after she's finished, trying to still her rapidly beating heart and calm her nerves. She hears the door to the bathroom open and close and she freezes. She knows she can't stay in the stall all day, but she doesn't want to see who is on the other side, washing their hands in the sink. With a deep breath, she pushes herself to her feet and slowly opens the door, peering her head out to see who it is.
Quinn Fabray is on the other side, and she quickly throws Rachel a furtive glance before speaking. "Rachel?" Her voice is soft and bordering on concern and Rachel swallows and nods her head before stepping out. Quinn turns away from the sink immediately and walks over to the brunette, smiling lightly. "You're back."
Rachel stares at the blond, whose stomach seemed to have grown substantially since she's been away, and then very weakly-she nods. Quinn reaches out, touching the brunette lightly on her shoulder before speaking again, not noticing the stiffness of Rachel's body and the flinch she'd made from the contact. "I heard about what happened…it was uhm, on the news. Are you okay?"
Rachel swallows, squeezing her eyes shut. This is what she'd wanted to avoid. People knowing, people asking questions, people touching her and talking to her as if she'd break-although at this point, she just might. "Rachel?"
Rachel can feel the tears burning in the corners of her eyes as she sniffles, and slowly opens her eyes again-the tears slowly cascading down her face. Quinn looks at the brunette, mouth gaped open in shock before she takes in the shaking form of the girl and sighs sadly. "You want to just stay in here with me until first period is over? It ends in about five minutes anyway."
Rachel finds herself nodding as she slides down against the wall of the girl's bathroom, Quinn mimicking her actions as she takes a place beside her. The two are silent for a few moments before Quinn speaks again, glancing over at the brunette who has calmed down substantially. "I know this might seem silly, and certainly shocking to you seeing as you and I were never really…friends, but…I'm glad you're back Rach."
Rachel looks at her and nods her head, the faintest of smile's grazing her face as she exhales slowly and adverts her attention back to the bathroom door. The small, lone words fall from her lips before she really notices and her eyes go wide, along with Quinn's, when she does. "Thanks."