Hello. Before the story continues, I just want to say thank you to anyone and everyone who has read, reviewed and/or favorited this story. It really means a lot to me. Anyways, this chapter is going to be Rachel-centric and may be a little bit depressing and suspenseful at parts. I hope it's not too much and that I stay in character. Flashbacks are in italics. As always, I don't own, nor ever will own, Glee and its characters. So lawyers and other people who would like to sue me, tough luck. Enjoy!

Rachel's POV

When I was little and got sad, my dads would bring me a glass of water. Needless to say, I received many glasses of water from my fathers when I was a child. It got to the point that I used to be unable to tell if I was sad, or just thirsty. Now, after many years, of experience, I can tell the difference. But even now, thirst is always a side effect of my sadness. I can only remember a few times that I've been near as thirsty as I am right now.

"Rachel," said my Dad, while glancing at my nearly full glass of water, "What's wrong?"

'Daddy' had to work late that day, so he wasn't home yet. (Which made me even more thirsty, because just the whole concept of having two dads was almost enough to break me down at the moment.)

"Nothing," I lied, because even at the age of six, I knew that stars didn't show signs of weakness.

"You always drink water when you're upset, your Dad and I would know."

"Of course my dads would know, and that's just the problem."

"What? Rachel, what happened?"

"Mothers day is this weekend and Ms. Dublin, our art teacher, told us to make cards for our mothers. I told her that I couldn't do that, because I have two gay dads, and some of the kids made of fun of me."

"Who? Who made fun of you?"

"A lot of kids joined in, but it was started by Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray."

"Those girls are just jerks. Your Father and I told you that some people would be intolerant, but you just have to rise above them Rachel."

"Do I have a mom?"

"No," he whispered, "No, you don't."

I thought I didn't have a mom. I thought I wasn't right and that I wasn't legitimate. I thought that everything Santana and Quinn had said was right. I thought I was a freak. I still thought I was a freak after what happened a few years later, but for different reasons.

"You lied to me," I growled in between sips of ice water. (The more ice, the more sadness.)

"About what, honey?" asked Dad. Once again, my Daddy wasn't home. He hadn't lied to me, so I had waited for him to go out grocery shopping before I confronted my Dad.

"You said that I didn't have a mom. I do."

"What? Rachel, no you don't."

"Yes, I do. Why didn't you tell me? Did you want me to find out and be humiliated because of my reaction in my fifth grade sex ed class?"
"Honey, you have a biological mother, just not a mom."

"You knew what I was asking."

"Rachel-

"Who is she?"

"Rachel-

"Who is she?"

"I can't tell you her name."

"Why not?"

"Because your Father and I took care of that matter. She gave you up for adoption, for her own good reasons. She loved you, but couldn't be your mom. She's merely your biological mother. Nothing more than that. I have to back to work."

"Why?"

"Because my boss needs me."

"No. Why did she give me up for adoption if she loved me?"

"Honey, you're too young to understand. We'll tell you later."

"You lied to me about this once, why should I trust you?"

"Honey, I'm sorry. I will never lie to you again. I really am sorry, this is just… a difficult topic, I guess. I have to go."

And from then on, my parents have always been there for me and always supported me. (They supported me before, but from then on, it was always different. It was always different somehow.) When I remember that particular conversation, it brings me towards my current situation. How will my son or daughter feel if someone chooses to make fun of them because of his/her mom's age? One child after the other is sent off on a difficult road.

"Finn! Congrats on the win. You threw the ball so hard and fast. You helped Noah score the… goal?" I rambled nervously.

"It's actually called a touchdown, Rachel. What Kurt scored is called a goal."

"Oh, thanks, I didn't know. So-

"Look Rachel, I like you as a friend and all, but I think you're really pissing off Quinn by being around me and stuff, so…"

"So?"

"So, can you like, not talk to me unless I come up to you?"

"I, uhh-

"Thanks, Rach."

Once again, Quinn's name was brought up, but I don't hold her to those things anymore. That was the old Quinn. The new Quinn learned humility and no longer hid behind her insecurities from being raised by her parents. The new Quinn didn't hide behind other peoples' pain. Quinn Fabray had turned out to be one of the nicest and most trustworthy people I had ever met. Plus, she's hysterically funny. Of course, she still has her edge, but without that, she wouldn't be Quinn.

And then there was Finn. Finn, who I still believe has good in him. Before he was like Quinn used to be, and even now, he still sort of was. Sure, Finn was never mean just to bring people pain, but he ended up being just as hurtful to me as he was before by how he was treating Jesse and I as a couple. Still, I believe he's a good guy, and that he'll eventually come around.

Those were some of the reasons why I would press a cold glass of water across my lips, but the reason why I'm trying to quench my thirst right now is because of something entirely different.

"Rachel! Rachel, wake up!" said Jesse as he frantically tried to shake me awake.

"What? What happened?" I asked as I felt my face pale.

"I don't know the details but I just got a phone call and-

"Jesse? What's going on?"

"There's no cell service in the hospital, so he only gave me a quick couple of sentences before he had to go in and-

"Jesse, who's in the hospital?"

"Quinn."

Author's Note: Wow. That was "interesting" to write. Sorry for the cliffhanger. I'm evil, aren't I?