Chapter 35: Love, Fear, and Guilt
"You didn't have to delay your honeymoon."
She's sitting crosslegged on her bed, twisting the hem of her tank top. The pain in her head is down to a dull ache and she's managed to shower and dress, but hasn't gone down to eat yet. Her mom and Scott came up to let her grandfather go down and eat. Part of her is relieved and feels very loved that they willingly delayed their trip. But the rest of her feels guilty. It's not necessary.
"Yes we did. We wanted to."
"Both of us." Scott makes sure to add on.
"Neither of us are comfortable leaving with you in so much pain."
"But you knew I'd taken meds and would be feeling better soon."
Her mom shakes her head. "You'll understand when you have your own kids."
Figuring there's no point arguing, Rachel lets the topic drop. Instead, she grabs the envelope from the nightstand and hands it to Scott.
"What's this?"
Mother and daughter share a conspiratorial grin. "A gift. Open it."
"I don't need a gift." Pulling out a packet of papers, Scott frowns in confusion. "What—"
"Read it."
They sit quietly, letting him absorb the words. First, his mouth drops open slightly. Then his eyes glaze with unshed tears. Finally, his eyes move between the two women sitting before him.
"Is this—"
"Yes it is." Her mom smiles widely.
"Only if you want it." Rachel hurries to explain in a rush of nerves. "You don't have to—"
Scott drops the papers and pulls Rachel into a tight embrace. "I want to. I really, really want to."
She grins up at him. "Then sign the adoption papers."
Smiling just as widely as he had at his wedding yesterday, Scott signs the adoption papers with an excited flourish. After rereading the pages and making sure he signed everything he was supposed to, Scott carefully folds them and returns them to the envelope. Then, with tears swimming in his eyes, he hugs her again.
"Thank you, Rachel. You two have given me a family. I have a wife and a daughter!"
They hug him tight. "You've had us both for a while. But now it's legally binding."
"You two have made me the happiest man in the world. Seriously."
The three talk a little longer, then acknowledge the time. "Some people are leaving soon. We should spend time with our guests."
"Mom, can you go first? I just want to ask Scott something before we go down."
"Sure, honey."
After the door shuts, Scott turns to her. "What did you want to ask me?"
Her hands unconsciously grab the hem of her shirt and begin twisting again. "Um…..a couple things."
"Go ahead. You can ask me anything."
"Um, first…are you okay with me still calling you Scott?"
He blinks, then nods. "Of course, Rach. I don't expect you to start calling me 'Dad' just because I signed the adoption papers."
Her shoulders relax. "Okay. Just know that when I say 'Scott', I'm really saying 'Dad'. It's just….hard. I had two dads growing up, then one. And that one…...hurt me. Then Uncle Burt really became a dad and he is my Dad to me, but I still call him Uncle Burt. And you've become a dad to me, but calling you 'Dad' and not him just seems wrong. But so does calling both of you 'Dad' when—"
"Hey, hey, calm down." He rests a hand on hers, stilling her. "It's okay. You don't have to explain. I get it. And I'm honored. I know when you say my name, you're really calling me 'Dad'."
She gives him a shaky smile. "Thanks."
"Good. That's settled. What's the other thing you wanted to ask me?"
"It's kind of a given, but…..take care of my mom?"
Scott leans back, confusion clear on his face. "What? Of course! I'm going to take care of both of you."
"I know. And I know you have been." She brushes her hair behind her ears. "But I mean…..my symptoms are getting worse again. I can tell. I think everyone can tell but no one is saying anything. So I….I just need to know that you'll make sure she relaxes and has a good time on your honeymoon and doesn't worry about me too much. And when you return, make sure she doesn't stress too much. And if I'm able to go off to college as planned, that you help her deal with that. And if—"
"Stop. Rachel…." He sighs. "….I get it, but it's not your place to worry about your mother. It's our place to worry about you. I will do my best to get her to relax and unwind on our honeymoon. But nothing and no one in this world could stop her from worrying about you. And you are going to be fine." He cups her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "Do you need an appointment to discuss your worsening symptoms?"
"No. They're not that bad. But attacks are happening more. I'm getting more headaches. I'm tired more. Dizzy more. I bleed more when I brush my teeth. I'm nauseous more. It's getting worse and I hate that. But not so bad that I need a sooner appointment. I already have one scheduled for right after your honeymoon."
"Okay. If that changes, I expect you to tell your grandparents. Got it?"
"Got it."
"There is one thing that'll help both your symptoms and your mom's stress."
"What's that?"
"Take it easy. Rest more. No more swimming or waterfalls or zip lines or anything like that. Just…relax. Lounge around."
She slumps slightly, but knows he's right. "I will. Think sitting on the beach with the waves only coming up to my waist is still lounging?"
He laughs. "Assuming someone is right by your side, yes. You can still have fun, just….calm fun."
"Okay." She smiles at him.
"You really are going to be fine, Rachel. We will get through it together. The good and the bad."
"My bad can get really bad." She reminds him.
"We can handle it."
He wraps an arm around her waist and insists on helping her walk down to the patio. She leans on her new stepfather, letting him take more of her weight. She's greeted warmly by everyone and smiles at Scott's dad when the man pulls out a chair for her. Scott helps her sit and pushes the chair closer to the table. Her grandmother places a plate of food in front of her and encourages her to eat. She eats slowly, talking around bites of food. Even though majority of the people here are close family and friends who know and love her, there are a few who aren't as close. Some more distant relatives and most of Scott's family and friends. That smaller group keeps giving Rachel pitying looks, which she hates but ignores. She accepts the good natured ribbing from Tyler and Abby about getting more attention and special treatment than the bride. She opens her mouth to make a joke about being a weary soul in a wearier body, but decides at the last moment that it'd be in poor taste. Instead, she goes with—
"They know royalty when they see it." And lifts her nose in the air.
"Is that so, princess?"
"Maybe it's not as obvious for commoners such as yourselves."
Abby tosses a grape at her and they all laugh.
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Her mom's arms wrap around her tight, holding her in a firm embrace. It feels like she'll never let go. Time waits for no man, however, and they have a boat to catch to the next island. Realizing it'll be up to her to end this, Rachel pulls back and kisses her mom's cheek.
"I love you, Mom. Have fun!" And offers her a bright smile. Anything less and the woman will never leave.
"I hate the idea of being away from you for so long." She laments.
"Mom, it's only a week. Less, actually. Besides, we can consider this a trial run."
Eyebrows raise. "A trial run?"
"For when I leave for college!"
Her mother's face sinks. "Right."
A final squeeze and Rachel steps back. "Bye!"
A mix of emotions flash across the older woman's face. Joy, worry, excitement, anxiety…finally she settles of a happy expression. "I'll see you later, baby girl. Be good for Nana and Grandpa."
"Me? I'll be an angel!"
"Just don't give them a hard time." She turns to her father. "And Dad, no gun ranges please."
He sighs. "Fine. I'll wait until she's in remission again."
"Thank you. I love you all!"
Finally, though still a little reluctantly, the newlyweds get in their cab and drive off. Once the cab is out of sight, Rachel spins on her heel and faces her grandparents. She grins teasingly.
"So! What'll it be? Zip lining, snorkeling, surfing, rock climbing—"
"Are all out of the question, little miss."
"How about sitting on the beach with my friends? They're not leaving until tomorrow, like us."
"Alright."
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To be honest, the week flew by. They stayed at the resort in Jamaica for one more day. She spent as much time as possible on the beach with her boyfriend, brother, and Brittany. For the most part, she dozed or read while listening to music and got a nice tan. She did go in the water, but wasn't allowed to go far. No one wanted a repeat of what happened the last time; least of all her. She stayed in shallow water, never going further than waist height and never alone. Someone was always by her side. She was fine with that. She still had fun. The flight home was thankfully uneventful. So was the following week at her grandparent's house. As much as she missed her parents and being around her friends and in her own home, it was nice to spend time with her extended family. Most days her aunt and uncle came over, bringing her younger cousins. Her older cousins visited a few times, as did their parents. They had fun, though the boys were disappointed how much was "tame" fun, since they didn't want to risk anything happening with Rachel's health. As promised, she mostly lounged around. She slept a lot, read a lot, and watched a lot of movies. She even played video games with Dylan a couple times, which was amusing. And of course, she sang for Ollie. That was a must.
It didn't seem to matter that she spoke to her mom every day. By the time her mother walked into her grandparent's house to pick her up, she was in desperate need of a hug from her mom. She's gotten lots of hugs and cuddles this week, but nothing quite compares to hugs from her mom. The very tan older brunette sat with her arm around her on the couch while telling everyone about her honeymoon. Scott sat on her other side, happy to be nearby and let his wife do most of the talking. On the drive home, her mom sat next to her in the back and showed her more photos from the trip. Rachel did the same, showing pictures of her final day with her friends in Jamaica and from her time with her grandparents.
"I'm glad you had fun with them."
"Me too. And I'm gad you got to relax and have a good honeymoon."
"It really was great. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and now I'm ready to dive back into our everyday lives."
"You know what that means." Scott announces happily from the driver's seat.
"What?"
"We should watch Star Trek tonight!"
Mother and daughter groan.
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"I think you need a belt." Her mom whispers in her ear.
Rachel glances down at her skirt. It is sliding a little. She hadn't realized she'd lost weight recently. Not much, but any is unnecessary on her already thin body. She frowns. "It's not bad."
"But it'd stay up better with a belt." She hates the worry on her mom's face. Clearly, she picked up on the weight loss, too. Weight loss is the last thing Rachel needs.
The conversation is cut off when Dr. Reed enters the room. "Good afternoon, ladies. Wow, you both have great tans!"
They smile back. "Thanks! Mom got married in Jamaica!"
"Congratulations!"
"Thank you." Rachel wonders if it's a conscious or unconscious new habit of thumbing her wedding ring. Either way, it makes her smile. It's like her mom is reminding herself that it really did happen.
"So, how have you been feeling, Rachel?"
Rachel dutifully lists off her symptoms, not downplaying or leaving anything out. He nods as he listens, taking notes and referring back to older notes. "So your moderate attacks are increasing."
"They are. Any idea why?"
He closes the file in front of him with a sigh. "Your numbers dropped, Rachel. Significantly."
Blood rushes through her, pounding in her ears. She may have suspected this was a possibility, but it's still scary to hear. Sometimes, she hates being right. "How far?"
Her mom squeezes her hand. "Is it time to start prepping for a bone marrow transplant?"
Bile rises in her throat and she swallows it down. Not only would that be hellish, but it'd mean she'd have zero chance of going to New York this school year. It'd all be for nothing.
"No." The doctor smiles slightly. "Not yet, at least. While she's right at the cusp, Rachel is still technically in stage two. If it drops any further, though…." He trails off.
"I can still go to New York in a few weeks, right?"
The grip on her hand tightens. Dr. Reed looks between mother and daughter, reading their opposing expressions, before sighing deeply. "At this time….I don't think it's a good idea."
The bile returns, burning her throat while tears sting the backs of her eyes. She's worked so hard and gone through too much to not get to live her dreams. "What—" She clears her throat. "What can I do? To get my numbers up?"
"Rachel—"
"The other treatment. The painful one. That's an option, right?" The desperation behind her tone is mostly cloaked by determination.
"That is an option, though I was hesitant to bring it up because of the intense pain." He reluctantly admits. "It's an option, but so is waiting and so is jumping straight to the transplant."
"Honey, do you remember how painful that was? We had to knock you out. Even then, you…..you went catatonic for a while. It was excruciating. You don't have to put yourself through that." Her mom assures her. Rachel can tell she's trying to come across as comforting, but she knows the real reason. If her numbers go up, there's no medical reason for her to not go to New York. And her mother doesn't really want her to go to New York. That little fact has been becoming more and more obvious as she gets closer to moving.
"It'll bring my numbers up, right? If I'm at the cusp of stage three right now, then the painful treatment should bring it up to the top of stage two. Right?" She turns her attention to the doctor.
He gives her a tight lipped smile. "Yes. There's even a good chance it'll push you into stage one."
"Really?" Her eyebrows shoot up. "But last time I did this I was stage four and after the treatment, I was still stage four."
"Rachel, last time we did this you were dying. You were literally on your deathbed. You were as far down to the bottom of stage four as you could possibly be while still being alive. I don't think you recall, but at that time…your life was hanging by a thread."
Both of her mother's hands are clasping hers now. Rachel gives her a quick glance and catches the bobbing of her throat, indicating her swallowing hard. She doesn't want to upset her mom. But she refuses to back down if there's a way to reach her goal.
"So this time will be different?"
"It'll still be extremely painful, but it might not be quite as excruciating as before because your body isn't as weak. Right now, you're bordering stages two and three. You're sick. You're weaker than a normal girl at your age. But you are so much stronger and healthier than you were the last time we did this treatment. It will definitely bring you up to the top of stage two and it could very well push you into stage one."
"Then let's do it."
"I want you to really think about this. It won't be quite as bad, but it will still be extremely painful. You'll be hospitalized for a while. You will suffer. You don't have to put yourself through that. We can wait to see if your numbers rise on their own or we can start preparing for the bone marrow transplant."
Clenching her jaw to keep it from quivering, Rachel raises her chin defiantly. "Let's do the painful treatment."
His eyes jump between them. "Ultimately, it is your mother's decision."
Rachel turns to her mother. The woman is pale, her lips are pressed together, and her eyes are unfocused. "Mom?"
She blinks quickly and turns to look at Rachel. "I…..I don't know."
"Take a few days to think about it. Try not to delay too long. If her numbers drop fully into stage three, then we'll have no choice but to begin the bone marrow transplant. That would be a different type of suffering."
So no matter what, Rachel has suffering in her future. She swallows hard. She'd rather it be on her own terms. Dr. Reed bids them farewell and they walk out in a daze. When they get to the car, her mother just sits behind the wheel, not moving or speaking. Rachel buckles up, then waits. And waits.
"Mom?"
She sucks in a breath. "Right. Sorry. Let's go home."
They don't talk. Rachel isn't surprised. She assumes her mom needs time to digest everything and come to a decision. She just hopes it's the one she wants. Not wanting to push and risk getting an answer she doesn't want, Rachel plays on her phone. Once home, her mom kisses her temple then vanishes into the basement, shutting the door behind her. That's Rachel's cue to give her mom some space. The woman will likely play the piano and/or sing….and/or pace. Yero comes out of the kitchen and tilts his head at her.
"I don't know either, Yero. I just don't know."
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Her mom doesn't bring it up for the rest of the day. Neither does Rachel. However, she catches her mom looking at her contemplatively from time to time. She doesn't let on. When her mom does bring it up that night, it's not the way Rachel expected.
"How are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Normally after getting bad news, you're understandably upset and need to vent in some way. Or be comforted. I know I went straight to the basement, but you haven't seemed like you need—"
"I don't. It's fine, Mom. I'm fine."
"Honey, you were told you're very nearly stage three and have guaranteed suffering in your future. One way or another. That's a good reason to have a breakdown or seek comfort."
"I mean…..it sucks, but I'm kind of used to it." At her mom's skeptical look, she elaborates. "Seriously. How many times have we been told my numbers dropped? Or that I have something unpleasant coming in the near future? This isn't the first or second or even third time. We've been down similar roads before."
"True."
"I hate it but I can handle it. I'm used to it."
"I'm so sorry that you're used to stuff like this."
"And you aren't?"
"No, Rachel. I will never be 'used to' being told your health is deteriorating or that you'll be suffering soon. Or having to decide your future like this."
"Then you could let me decide. I know what I want."
"I know what you want." Her mom snaps. She closes her eyes and takes a breath. "Sorry. I know. I really do. And I understand it. I'm just not convinced that…...let's leave it alone for tonight." She glances at the clock. "It's getting late. Are you going to bed?"
It's 8:15 on a summer night and she actually feels okay. She had no intention of going to bed just yet, but realizes her mom may need a little more time to make her decision and her presence isn't going to help. Deciding she can hang out in her room until she's ready to go to sleep, Rachel nods. With a silent motion to Yero, she heads upstairs.
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Scott puts the last of the dishes away and turns to face his wife. The beautiful brunette is standing with her arms crossed, looking out the window. He steps behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. She leans back against his chest and he rests his chin on her shoulder. For a couple of minutes, they stand like that in silence, each of them lost in thought on the same topic.
"What are you going to do?" He whispers softly to her.
"I don't know. I know how badly she wants to go to college. I also know that these painful treatments might be her last hope to bring up her numbers so that she doesn't need a bone marrow transplant. But on the other hand, they might not be necessary! Her numbers could go up with a little more time. Then she wouldn't have to suffer."
"Or they could drop further and she'll have no choice but to do the transplant."
Her hands slide down and grip his arms. "I know."
"Shel," he hesitates, not wanting to upset her further, "how much of your indecision is because you're trying to find a way to keep her from going off to New York without her needing to do something painful and without you being the reason why?"
With that, his arms are empty. His shoulders slump as he watches her storm away from him. "Of course I want her to stay here. And I really don't want her to have to suffer. But I wouldn't stop her from living her dreams without a damn good reason!"
He's not completely sure he understands. "If she does the painful treatment, her numbers will go up and she won't need the transplant."
"And it'd also mean she could go off to New York while still sick!"
His mind is spinning and he wonders if she realizes she's contradicting herself. "But not as sick! You were going to let her go at stage two. Now we're being told she could be early stage two or even late stage one if she does the painful treatment." His eyes narrow, watching her face intently. Her eyes dart around, refusing to meet his. Understanding dawns. "You were never going to let her go."
"I was!" She instantly defends herself. Her tone is weak and unconvincing. "Most likely. Maybe. God, Scott, this is so hard! I kept thinking I'd have more time to accept it or for her to get better."
"Now that there's an option of her getting better but not going into remission, you're torn?"
"I don't like the idea of her going off to another state while sick."
"You also don't like the idea of her going off to another state while healthy."
Guilt and shame cross her face. His wife paces the kitchen and wrings her hands. "I only got her three years ago. I've had her in my life for three years. That's not long enough."
"She's not leaving forever, Shel."
"Yes she is!" A single tear slips unnoticed down her cheek. "One way or the other, I am going to lose my daughter!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Either she's going off to New York, where she's always dreamed of living, and she won't return or she's going to die. Rachel has the talent and the determination to make it on Broadway. I have zero doubt about that. It's only a matter of when. She'll live and work in New York. Maybe she'll come home for holidays. Maybe she won't. Once she moves up there, I won't see much of her anymore."
"She'll come back. She'll visit. And you can visit her up there! There are also these really cool inventions called phones. You can call and send text messages at absolutely any time! Modern technology is a marvelous thing."
She gives him a dirty look. "She won't live here. With me. Not anymore."
"No, she won't. But she won't be gone, she just won't be around every day. She'll be be happily living her dream. Isn't that what you want for her?"
"Of course it is! So much! That's why I feel so guilty wanting her to stay with me longer! It'd make me happy, but not her! I'm her mom. I'm supposed to put her wants and needs first. But I just want to wrap my arms around her and keep her close for as long as I can. Three years, Scott. That's all I've gotten."
"It's longer than you thought you were going to get."
She flinches back, mouth trembling. "I want longer with her."
Cautiously, he steps closer to her. When she doesn't retreat, he slowly rubs her arms. "You'll have it. You have the rest of your life with her. You'll have to call and plan visits, but you'll talk to her and see her. Not every day, but you will! You're not losing her."
"I'll lose her if she dies."
His hands still. He'd wondered if she'd planned to elaborate on that. "She's not going to die."
"She's bordering stage three."
"That doesn't mean—"
"Last time she hit stage four." Her voice is a choked whisper. "She was on her fucking deathbed, Scott. You weren't there. You don't know what that was like. Her survival was a goddamn miracle! Her recovery was equally miraculous! What are the odds she has another miracle in her and will recover again?"
He steps back, eyes darting between hers. "So you think that if she gets any worse—"
"She'll die." Another lone tear, from the other eye this time. "What are the odds she'll survive again?"
"Shel, she's stage two. She's doing alright!"
"She's getting worse! She's losing weight! Her symptoms are getting worse, just like before! Her attacks are becoming more frequent. Like before. And I know she knows it. I know her. I can see it in her eyes, her body language, her moments of silence, and the way she responds to certain things. She's getting worse and she knows it."
"I mean…..yeah, she's mentioned it. But she's not expressing any fear over it. It's been more of a 'this is how it is'."
"She was. For a while, she'd come to me and tell me her fears. Lately, though, she's staying quiet. Staring off into space, lost in thought."
"None of this means she's going to die, Shelby."
"It doesn't mean she won't, either. I don't want her to. God, I'd give anything for her to be healthy and happy. I need her to be healthy again. If she does the treatment, she'll get better and go off to New York, away from me. I'll lose her. If she doesn't do the treatment, she might end up needing a bone marrow transplant. That'd force her to stay here for another year. If it works, she'll be healthy! But if it fails, I'll lose her."
Scott absorbs her words as well as her body language and comes to a realization. Shelby keeps flip flopping because of the guilt. As much as she hates the idea of Rachel suffering, she wants her to do the painful treatment, get better, and follow her dreams. But that would mean Rachel is well enough to head off to New York, which she doesn't want. She wants her daughter to stay with her very badly and the guilt of that is causing her to go back and forth. She wants Rachel to follow her dreams. She doesn't want her to go while sick. She wants her to stay. She knows she should let her go to follow her dreams. She wants to keep her close and safe. The idea of keeping Rachel back from happiness fills her with guilt. The idea of sending her off to New York while sick fills her with fear. She's in a catch-22. On top of all of this is her fear of her daughter dying; losing her permanently.
"I don't want to lose her." Shelby whispers, her eyes filling with tears. "I can't lose her."
Knowing there are no words to soothe her, Scott does the only thing that might help. He wraps her in a warm embrace, letting her tears soak his shirt. His large hands stroke her back while he rocks her.
Unseen by either parent, a shadow shifts at the base of the stairs. It silently retreats, vanishing up into the darkness of the stairs.
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Fiyero lays on top of Rachel. She wraps her arms around the pup and pets his back, but her eyes remain on the ceiling. She'd fallen asleep the previous night torn on how to handle what she'd heard. In the morning light, and calmer, she has come to a decision. Positivity. Smile, head up, shoulders back, and be positive. Focus on the outcomes she wants and work towards them. Hug everyone and make sure they know how much she loves them. And how much she'll miss them while living in New York. She needs to make it clear that she fully expects to go. Her mom wouldn't blindside her, would she? She hates that she's suddenly unsure.
"You were never going to let her go."
She huffs softly. Part of her wants to hate her mom for that, but she can't. She's not even really angry. Disappointed and hurt, yes, but not angry. As much as it pains her, she does understand her mom's perspective and is honestly touched that her mom is that desperate to keep her close. She is very loved. It's just frustrating that that love is preventing her from following her dreams and living her life. Her mom wants her to be healthy. She also wants her to stay in Ohio with her, no matter what. That's not what Rachel wants and her mom knows it. Besides, that's not even what hurts the most. Her mom thinks she's going to die. Her mom has lost faith in her recovery. Is she right? No. She'll get better. It's what she does. She is Rachel Berry and she will go to NYADA, marry Finn, get on Broadway, win a Tony, and have kids. That is her future. Not dying at 17. And to hell with anyone who says otherwise.
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"You're not as angry as I thought you'd be." Blaine admits.
Rachel is sitting on his couch with him, her feet on his lap. He's lightly rubbing her feet while they talk. She needed to vent to someone about what she overheard last night, but there are only a few people she'd want to talk to. Finn and Kurt are her first choices, but each are too busy. Finn is on a short trip with some of his guy friends. Kurt is hanging out with Mercedes. Rachel knows that if she reached out, both boys would drop what they are doing and hurry back for her. She doesn't need that, though. Not when Blaine is available. Her mom had dropped her off at Blaine's house half an hour ago and she'd instantly told him about her eavesdropping the night before.
"I'm not. Not really. I'm more….hurt. She loves me so much that she wants me to stay. But it's starting to sound like she'd be willing to keep me from my dreams to do it. I love that she loves me so much, but not to the point of keeping me hostage."
Blaine grins slightly. "Hostage? She's not going to lock you in your room like Rapunzel or chain you to the bed."
Rachel folds her arms. "She'd have to if she expects me to never leave."
He chuckles. "She's going to let you go. As long as Dr. Reed gives the okay, she'll let you go."
"Why are you so sure?"
"Because, it's like you said, she loves you very much. She's scared, but I really believe she'll love you enough to let you go. She'll hate it, but she'll do it."
"Maybe. I hope so. I don't want her to be scared or hate it, but I do want her to willingly let me go to New York."
They're quiet for a minute, thinking it over. Blaine shakes her foot. "Are you going to talk about the other thing she said? About you not having another miracle?"
Rachel loosens her arms so she can twist the hem of her shirt. She gives an awkward shrug. "That's all there is to it. She doesn't think I'm going to survive."
He frowns. "But from what you said….it sounds like she only thinks that'd happen if you get worse."
She gives him a long look. "I am getting worse, Blaine."
"You know what I mean. Stage three."
"Which I'm just a few scant numbers from."
"And yet you're still stage two. I think…...Rach, I think she's just scared. I don't think she really thinks you won't survive."
"Then why'd she say it?" She hates that her voice shakes.
Blaine squeezes her foot. "You should talk to her."
"Admit to eavesdropping? Yeah, that'd go over well."
"That part doesn't even matter. From what you heard…...you need to talk to her. I know you're going to survive. I'm scared that you won't. It's terrifying. But I believe you will make it. So does she, I'm sure of it."
Rachel bites her lip, uncertain how to respond. Twenty four hours ago, she'd have instantly agreed with him. Now, however, she's less sure. Does her mom really have such little faith in her? Is she already preparing herself for Rachel's death? Does she actually think it's inevitable? Is that the real reason why she doesn't want Rachel to go to New York? So that she doesn't miss out on Rachel's final months? Unable to think about it anymore without breaking down, Rachel lifts her gaze to Blaine's.
"Wanna sing?"
From his expression, it's obvious that he knows she's just looking for a distraction, but bless him, because he goes along with it without comment.
"Always."
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The chicken parmesan smells amazing. The weight of the conversation she needs to have with her mother has depleted her appetite, though. She manages to eat half her plate before setting her fork down and leaning back in her chair.
"Eat up, Rach." Scott encourages.
"I'm not really hungry."
Her mom sighs. "At least try."
"I ate half already. I can't eat anymore."
"Do you think you could drink a smoo—"
"Are you going to let me do the painful treatment?" The words poured out of her like a flood breaking a dam.
Her mother freezes, then sets her fork down. "Why do you want to do it so badly?"
She looks at her incredulously. "So I can get better. So I can go to New York. So I can live."
"If you do the bone marrow transplant—"
"I'd have to spend months prepping for it, go through a long, dangerous procedure, then have a long, rough recovery! It'd take at least a year from start to finish!"
"But it wouldn't be as painful as the treatment. I don't want you to suffer needlessly."
"Needlessly? Dr. Reed said it'd bring my numbers up to at least early stage two, maybe even stage one! So I think the better question is why don't you want me to get the treatment?"
"Rachel—"
"Don't you want me to get better?"
"Of course I do! Don't be ridiculous."
"Do you think I wouldn't survive it?"
"I—no, that's not it. You're stronger now than last time. You'd survive it."
"But you don't think I'll beat this illness."
Her mom rears back. "What? Of course I do! You're going to get better and be fine, Rachel."
"You don't really think that." Rachel challenges.
"Yes, I do. You're going to go into remission and live a normal, healthy life."
"I heard you. Last night." Her voice shakes. The hurt from not being believed in is rearing it's ugly head.
Her mother grabs her chair by the seat and turns it so they're face to face. Then she pulls her own chair closer so they're knee to knee. "Rachel…I'm so sorry you heard that. But what you heard was just my deepest, darkest fears pouring out. It's not actually what I believe. It's what I'm terrified of happening and I stupidly gave those fears a voice instead of shaking them off."
"You said you don't want to lose me."
"I don't! I don't want to lose you in any way, shape, or form."
"Even to New York."
"Honestly…...no. I don't want you to go."
"Were you ever going to let me go?"
"Yes. Not happily, but yes."
Rachel isn't sure she believes her and that fact hurts. Deciding now's not the time to focus on it, she asks her next question. "Will you let me go?"
"If Dr. Reed says you're strong enough, then yes. I'll hate it, but I'll let you move to New York."
Moving back to the bigger issue, Rachel looks down and questions her mom softly. "And you really think I'll survive."
A warm hand cradles her chin and softly lifts her head. "Baby girl, you are going to be just fine. I am terrified of the possibility of you getting worse, but even if you do I know that you will fight it and keep going and end up going back into remission. And I will help you and support you however I can to get you back to remission. I am so very sorry that you spent today thinking I don't believe in you. I really, honestly do! I'm just so scared. I won't let my fears overwhelm me again. I promise. I believe in you, Rachel. You are strong, stubborn, and amazing. You will beat this."
"You mean that?" Tears well in her eyes. She needs to believe that her mom means it. After all, it's largely been her mom's strength and faith in her that has kept her going through both illnesses.
Her mom's eyes well up. "I really do. I swear it."
Rachel throws herself into her mom's arms. The woman rocks her and kisses her head. "I am so sorry, baby girl. So sorry. I never meant to make you think you'll be anything other than fine."
The teenager pulls back after a couple minutes of letting her tears run their course. She swipes at her eyes, then nod her thanks to Scott when he hands her a tissue. "But why are you so against me getting the painful treatment?"
A pained look crosses her mom's face. "Do you remember the last time you did this treatment?"
She nods. "Yeah, it was extremely painful and scary."
"It was. While I don't know what it's like to experience, you have no idea what it's like watching your child go through that. And being the one to decide to put you through that."
"But…." Rachel thinks back to that horrible time of her life. "….you let me choose. I remember that."
"I asked you what you wanted, but when it came down to it, it was my choice. My choice kept you alive, got you out of the hospital sooner, and feeling better sooner, but it also put you through two weeks of absolute hell. Watching you suffer like that and knowing I was somewhat the reason why was horrible, Rachel. I don't want to be responsible for your suffering again."
"You're not! AA is responsible. The treatment will suck, but it'll only be like a week or two again, then I'll be better. And you heard Dr. Reed; it won't be as bad this time. I was dying last time, hanging by a thread. This time I'm a lot stronger. It won't be as bad. And I'm asking for this, Mom. Please." When her mom still hesitates, Rachel pushes. "You're not going to lose me."
A tear leaks out of her mom's eye and she brushes it away with a sniffle. "Okay. We'll do the harsher treatment."
Rachel hugs her tight. "Thank you, Mom. You won't lose me. This'll help me get better. And when I'm in New York, we'll talk all the time! And visit a lot!"
Her mom chuckles; Rachel ignores the wet, thick sound of held back tears. "We will."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
In the days leading up to the harsher treatment, Rachel spends a lot of time with her friends. They hang out at their spot in the woods, at one another's houses, at the mall, and even go swimming once (though, just like in Jamaica, Rachel mostly sat on the shore or in the shallow water). Her friends are worried but supportive. It seems they're determined to make sure she has fun leading up to the treatment and promise to help her have fun after it ends, too. The goofy, relaxed time with her friends is exactly what she needed to prepare for this. While that was her version of therapy, her mom had a session with her actual therapist and spent a lot of time talking to her parents and siblings, helping her come to terms with it all. Of course, Rachel made sure to spend time with her mom, too. They spent most nights in the basement, belting out songs together. The best news came the day before the harsh treatment.
"We found a townhouse that's between NYADA and Juilliard. It's also fairly close to the community college that Finn is going to. Since it's centrally located, it's a good spot for all of you to live. There are enough bedrooms for you guys to share as long as you double up. We could also use the attic as a room instead of storage. It has stairs leading to it and a nice hardwood floor."
Rachel bounces excitedly. "So I really get to live in a house with my closest friends?" She purposely leaves out "and boyfriend".
"Yes." Her mom smiles. "We, the parents, will be deciding rooming arrangements. We will be popping in to visit frequently and expect to see you guys in your assigned rooms."
"That's fine! I'm happy with that! So is this definite?"
"No. We still have to meet with the landlord to sign the lease and we want to see it in person. If this doesn't work out, there's an apartment complex not far from it with a couple open apartments. We can have you guys rent the different apartments in the same building so you're at least close by."
"This is so awesome! I'm guessing you guys will be picking who lives in which apartment if that's the way we go?"
"Yes. And that's what we'd prefer. It's only because you're sick that we'd prefer the townhouse. We like the idea you having a lot of people around to help you. If you were healthy, we'd be skipping it and having you move into the apartments."
"Makes sense. Do the others know?"
"They do now. We decided to tell you guys about it today."
"Can I go over Kurt's tonight? Talk and plan?"
"I thought we were going to watch a movie tonight."
"I know, but….we've been watching movies together like every day! Can I spend tonight with the Hummel's please?"
Her mom bites her lip. "Fine. But I want you home tomorrow morning before we head to the hospital."
"Okay!"
Too excited to feel guilty for bailing on her mom, Rachel calls Kurt. He eagerly agrees to pick her up. Her brother comes inside long enough to hug her mom and grab her overnight bag for her, then they're off. Kurt had bought a cover for his backseat specifically for Yero so that the dog can sit back there comfortably and safely without ruining Kurt's car. They go straight to his house to drop off her bag and greet the adults. Finn is out again, which disappoints her. Uncle Burt promises her that he'll be home tonight, which is a relief. He's been picking up extra shifts at the shop, so she hasn't seen as much of him lately. Knowing they'll be living together soon enough, she hasn't been too upset about it. It surprises her how much she misses him when she goes more than a day without seeing him. They enjoy a nice, warm dinner together. After, they decide to pick up snacks for their movie night. Even though Rachel is sure she won't feel like eating the snacks, it's tradition and makes her brother happy. Besides, if Finn gets in before she heads to bed, he'll be happy to sit and eat the snacks, even if he doesn't like the movie they pick. Food is the fastest way to make Finn happy. Which is why when they're at the store picking up their treats, Rachel picks two that she knows Finn really likes. Kurt rolls his eyes at her.
"The good wife." He teases.
"In a few years." She replies with a grin. "Besides, do I spy caramel popcorn in the basket? Isn't that one of Blaine's favorite snacks? The good husband."
Kurt blushes and looks away without comment. "Let's head to the frozen food section to grab Italian ice."
Rachel shivers just thinking about it. A very minor side effect of being severely anemic is that she gets cold easily. Walking along the frozen food section in a grocery store, when dressed for summer heat, is nearly painful for her. The cold is biting and causes her whole body to shiver and tense up. "I'll pass. I'd rather avoid the cold."
Kurt cringes. "Sorry. Didn't think of that. Fine, I'll go grab it. What flavor do you want? Should we do just lemon or a mix of lemon and strawberry?"
"Just lemon. It's the best."
"Alright. Where are you heading?"
"We need drinks. I'll go grab some iced tea or something."
"Okay. See if you can find the peach flavored." He pauses before leaving, looking wary, before pointing to Yero. "Do your job, sir."
Yero tilts his head at him curiously, as if to say "Don't I always?"
Rachel rolls her eyes and chuckles. Such a worrywart. Yero pads along beside her as she walks up and down the juice aisle, looking for peach iced tea for her brother. First, she finds a passion fruit cocktail and pauses. That sounds good. She's reaching for it when Yero yips and grabs her free hand in his mouth. She pauses and looks down at him with a frown.
"Seriously? Now? Damnit. They really are coming more often."
She glances around the aisle self consciously as she lowers herself to the floor. As much as she hates getting any moderate attack, the ones in public are the worst. Too many people who have no idea what's going on freak out and overreact. Their first reaction is always to want to call an ambulance. Not that she can blame them, but—She sucks in a breath as the first invisible pinpricks pierce her chest. Yero sits on her lap, positioning himself so that she can lean on him. That's when it occurs to her that she should have immediately called Kurt. Cursing herself while sucking in air, she doesn't notice the customers tentatively coming closer.
"Sweetheart? Are you okay?" An elderly lady asks worriedly.
"F-f-ine." She groans out.
The woman turns to her husband. "She doesn't seem fine." The man shakes his head. "Do you need help? We can call an ambulance."
"N-n-nooo."
Another customer steps forward, a middle aged woman. "Or we can call someone. Are you here alone?"
She can't answer. A wave of pain steals her breath and she leans further over onto Yero with a moan. With a shaking hand, she struggles to pull her phone out of her purse. The middle aged woman notices and helps out, grabbing it for her.
"Who can I call?"
Her phone isn't locked. It was a rule from her mom. That way, she can call someone quickly, with no hesitation, in the event of an emergency. "Kur—t."
"Who?" She leans closer to hear better.
Her body jerks and her chest burns. Her fingers grip the fur beneath her and she whimpers. A hand rests on her back and makes soft circles.
"Excuse me? I think we need an ambulance."
Before Rachel can even attempt to refute that, she realizes the elderly gentleman wasn't talking to her. He's turned away from her. A quick glance tells her an employee is standing in the aisle a few feet away, frowning. The boy nods and jogs off. Rachel cringes in both pain and irritation. She does not need nor want an ambulance. The voices around her begin overlapping and she struggles to make out any part of it.
"Rachel?" The others quieted down, allowing her to clearly hear her brother. "When I saw an employee go running to the manager and customers crowding around the end of an aisle like rubberneckers, I figured it had to do with you. But I hoped not."
As he's speaking, he's settling himself behind her so he can hold her. The pain keeps her bent forward, so he leans forward with her, arms wrapped around her as best he can. Hearing her gasping breaths, he pulls the travel oxygen tank out of her bag and turns it on, placing the nasal cannula on her. Once that's done, he tries to reassure the other customers that she's okay.
"Unfortunately, this happens frequently. They're very painful but she'll be fine once it passes." Then he frowns. "She won't be able to walk, though."
The elderly woman places a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "We already had the store call an ambulance."
"Oh."
"No." It's soft and hoarse, but it's heard.
"I don't think we have a choice, Tink. They already called one. Besides, you can't walk out of here and I can't carry you that far." When she whimpers, he squeezes her tighter. "I'm sorry. I know you don't like going to the hospital."
The pain is finally starting to lessen, but the needles continue faintly stabbing her and dizziness is starting to set in. She slumps back against Kurt, who rests his cheek against hers.
"Um, excuse me?" They look up at a young woman standing beside them. "I just need—"
She points to a bottle of V8 on the shelf next to and above them. Kurt looks at her askance. "Are you for real?" When the woman wilts but doesn't leave, Kurt scoffs. "Here."
He grabs it and tosses it to her. She misses it and it rolls down the aisle. The woman glares at him and opens her mouth, but the elderly man steps between them with a reproachful look on his face. "Just pick it up and leave."
"The gall of some people." The middle aged woman mutters, shaking her head. She's rubbing Rachel's arm, trying to comfort her.
"Thanks." Kurt says. "I've got it from here. I know how to handle these attacks and since the ambulance is coming, they'll help. I appreciate you helping my sister until I could get here."
"Of course. I hope she feels better soon." With a backward glance, the lady continues her shopping.
The older couple stays put until the paramedics arrive. The man admits that he wants to make sure no other thoughtless customers disturb them. Clinging to her brother as the aisle slowly tilts under her, Rachel manages a weak grin. The paramedics arrive and crouch down beside them. Rachel cringes at the stretcher behind them. That's embarrassing.
"Hi, there. What seems to be the problem?"
Without waiting for an answer, one of them lifts Rachel's hand and turns it over to check her pulse.
"My sister has Danton's Aplastic Anemia. It causes these attacks of intense pain that make her struggle to breathe and weaken her. It's over now and she's on oxygen, so she'll be fine. She just needs to rest."
"Are your parents here with you two?"
"No. We were just coming to pick up some snacks for our movie night tonight."
"And I guess these are pretty regular if she has a service dog?"
"Fairly, yeah. He alerts us when one is coming and even supports her through them."
"Nice. What are your names?"
"I'm Kurt, this is Rachel."
"Rachel, I'm going to check your breathing, okay?" He pulls out a stethoscope and, at her listless nod, presses it to her chest. "We're gonna switch you to our bigger oxygen tank and put you on a mask, alright?"
"How are you feeling?" Another asks.
"Dizzy…and…..tired." She admits in a faint voice.
Kurt nods. "She normally can't walk for a little while after these. They take a lot out of her."
"Well she doesn't have to worry about walking. She's going to get to ride on this stretcher."
She groans.
"Hey, don't knock it, this is a new one. State of the art and surprisingly comfortable for all your emergency ride needs." The youngest paramedic jokes.
"I can just call my dad and have him come get us. He can carry her."
"And how long would that take?"
"Only like 10 minutes."
The paramedics look at one another, debating what to do. Finally, the oldest one sighs and shakes his head. "Sorry, kid. Since you're children, we're going to have to take you to the hospital. Your dad can meet you there. Besides, I don't know what's normal for an attack like you described but I picked up on a little arrhythmia."
"Inconsistent heart rate?" Kurt asks worriedly, eyebrows shooting up.
"You're familiar with it?"
Kurt snorts. "Rachel has been in and out of the hospital for years. Her heart has stopped a couple of times. I've heard it all."
The paramedic's expressions darken. "More reason to get her to a hospital. You can call your dad from the ambulance."
"Sucks." Rachel grumps quietly.
"Sorry, kiddo. Let's get you on the stretcher. We're gonna lift you onto it. Ready?"
Kurt scoots back to make room. Two paramedics move so they're on either side of her and lift her under her back and legs. The motion makes the whole place swoop and she gasps. They lay her on the gurney and strap her in before covering her with a sheet. Yero hops on and lays at her feet. He growls at the paramedic who tries to shoo him off, so they leave him be. Kurt hands his basket of junk food to the store manager who is standing nearby and watching.
"Any chance this could be left at customer service? I can have someone come by and pay for it later. Not the frozen stuff, though. That'll melt."
"Sure, kid."
Rachel closes her eyes to avoid having to see people staring at her as she's rolled out of the store. She knows she has no reason to be so embarrassed, but she is. Especially since she knows she doesn't actually need to go to the hospital. She just needs a bed. Her limbs feel heavy and her mouth is dry, but the dizziness is starting to lessen. Once they're in the back of the ambulance, Kurt pulls out his phone.
"Hey, Dad. Um, Rachel's fine. Really. But she kinda had a moderate attack at the supermarket…... Yeah, she's fine…. No, that's not necessary. Uh, the store insisted on calling an ambulance. Can you meet us at the hospital?….. Okay, thanks. Oh, and ask Carole and Finn to come back to the store to buy the groceries we left at customer service and to pick up my car, please?….. It's not silly!… Whatever. See you soon."
He glances at Rachel, who is struggling to stay awake. "Dad's gonna meet us there. Do you want to call Mom or should I?"
"I'll call."
"Are you sure? You don't sound too good and you don't seem like you're going to be able to stay awake much longer."
"But if you call, she'll panic." She points out.
"True." He hands her her phone.
Her mom answers after a couple rings. "Rach? Everything okay?"
Rachel frowns. "Yeah. Why are you breathing hard?"
"Uh…...I was mopping the kitchen floor and scrubbing up a spill. It's a decent workout."
"Sure." Rachel draws out the word skeptically.
"Why'd you call?"
"I'm fine." But still dizzy and tired and even continuing to talk is draining her. She hands the phone to Kurt.
"She's fine, but she had a moderate attack…..Yeah, at the grocery store…...No, she really is fine but the people panicked and called an ambulance before I could stop them. Dad's meeting us at the hospital….Okay…Okay…Love you, too!"
He hands the phone back to Rachel. Seeing it still connected, she lifts it to her ear. "Rach? Honey?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you. I'll be there soon, okay? I just need to clean up. All the uh…...mopping...…got my clothes wet. Let me change and we'll meet you there."
"Kay." Exhaustion is weighing down on her.
They're nearly to the hospital when Kurt notices she's still awake. He grins slightly. "Have you ever been conscious on any of your many ambulance rides?"
"No. This is…..the first time." Or at least it's the first time she's been fully conscious and aware of her surroundings and not panicking.
"You can go to sleep, you know."
She wants to. God, she wants to. There's a bigger part of her that wonders if they'll send her right home if she's still awake when she gets to the hospital. Even though she stays awake, her eyes slip closed. She listens to her brother talk to the paramedics. She shivers and a blanket is placed over her. Upon arrival at the hospital, Rachel is still awake but struggling to open her eyes. She feels the gurney moving and entering the emergency room. The paramedics read off her stats to the doctor and nurses who met them at the entry. Feeling the bed be turned around makes her dizziness reappear and she grips the gurney. Hands gently stroke hers.
"It's okay, Rachel. You can let go. We're going to put you on a hospital bed and get you off this gurney. Let go. We've got you."
Shaking lightly, she reluctantly releases her hold. As promised, multiple hands grab hold of her and lift her onto the bed. They start checking her vitals and getting her hooked up to an IV and heart monitor. They also swap her over to the hospital oxygen tank, thankfully dropping her down to a nasal cannula.
"Rachel? Can you open your eyes?" She recognizes that voice. Prying her eyes open, she sees Nurse Hunter leaning over her. Once she makes eye contact with the man, he grins. "Hey, girl. It's been a while."
"Not for long." She mutters.
"What do you mean?"
Kurt takes over explaining for her. "She was scheduled to come in tomorrow anyway. Now she's a day early."
"I see. Are your parents on their way?"
"Yes."
"Good. I hate to say it, but if you were going to be admitted tomorrow, you may as well be admitted now and just stay the night. Let's get you into a hospital gown."
She's normally unconscious when they put her in a hospital gown, so she's saved from the humiliation of being stripped in front of people. Even if they're medical professionals, it's embarrassing. Other times her mom helps her. That's not so bad. Right now, she's awake enough to be aware, but not strong enough to do it herself. Meaning she has to accept help from them. Kurt kisses her cheek and steps out to give her a little privacy. Nurse Hunter hands her a gown and thoughtfully invites a female nurse in to assist while he steps out as well. When she's settled in, Kurt returns and accepts the bag containing her clothes that they hand him. Rachel sighs.
"I'm fine. I can go home."
He shrugs. "But you're here and you were going to come tomorrow anyway."
"That's tomorrow." She whines.
"Scoot over you big baby."
Kurt slides onto the bed beside her and she rests her head on his chest. Once again, she lets her eyes drift shut. She's just starting to drift off when she hears a slight commotion outside her curtain blocked cubicle.
"Where are my kids? I know they're here."
Beneath her, Kurt shifts slightly. "In here, Dad." He calls out just loud enough to be heard.
The curtain slides back and footsteps approach. Uncle Burt sighs deeply and runs his fingers through her hair. Opening her eyes seems to hard right now, so she leaves them closed.
"How is she?" He whispers to his son.
"She's fine. Just miserable about coming here a day early."
There's a low chuckle. "That doesn't surprise me. Is Shelby on her way?"
"Of course. Scott too."
The chair next to the bed creaks as it accepts Uncle Burt's weight. Unable to hold off any longer, Rachel finally falls asleep.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Knowing that Rachel is fine and probably just annoyed, Shelby walks calmly into the emergency room with Scott holding her hand. They smile at the receptionist and get directions. Even though Shelby took a really fast shower after her interrupted lovemaking with Scott, she finds that Rachel has already been admitted to a room upstairs. Once they get up to the room, they find Kurt and Burt talking softly and Rachel fast asleep. They greet one another warmly and Shelby presses a kiss to Rachel's forehead before taking a seat. She sets her purse on the nightstand next to a box of tissues and pours a glass of water, knowing Rachel often has a dry mouth after a moderate attack.
"I thought we had another day."
"So did she. She was not happy about this."
"But she's really fine?"
"Yeah, they just panicked at the store." Kurt confirms with a nod.
"What about your car?" Scott asks. "I can go get it if—"
Burt waves it off. "Thanks Scott, but Carole and Finn are getting Kurt's car as we speak."
"Actually," Kurt says while looking at his phone, "this is Finn now. He better not have dinged my car. I'll kill him."
He steps out of the room to answer the call. While he's gone, Burt grins knowingly at the newlyweds. "So. Mopping the floor is a good workout, huh?"
Heat flares across Shelby's cheeks. "Bite me."
"I think that's your husband's job. And it sounds like he's—"
"Shut up, Burt!" She throws the box of tissues at him.
Scott is laughing. "I swear you two sound just like Rachel and Kurt."
Shelby and Burt share a disgruntled look before laughing. "Maybe."
Kurt returns and the family talks quietly until Rachel wakes up. In the meantime, Finn and Carole have arrived and join them in keeping vigil. Rachel wakes up sooner than expected. She's still clearly tired when she sits up, but she honestly seems fine. That settles Shelby's nerves even more. She adjusts the bed so she can sit up comfortably and accepts the cup of water Shelby hands her.
"Well this sucks." She comments idly.
The others chuckle. "Yeah, but it's not too bad. If it weren't for the fact that you'd be here tomorrow anyway, you'd be home right now."
"I'd like to be home right now. Or better yet, having that movie night Kurt and I planned. Sorry, Kurt."
He nods sagely. "Yes. It was all your fault and I will bitterly condemn you to suffer my wrath because you had a moderate attack that ruined our plans to watch a movie and eat junk food. How dare you."
Shelby laughs as Rachel kicks her brother. All Kurt has to do is swing his legs to the side and he's out of Rachel's reach. The girl turns to Finn with pleading eyes. "Finn? Can you hit him for me?"
Finn's grin is downright predatory. Kurt goes a little pale while the adults laugh. As the taller boy stands and makes his way to his stepbrother, the shorter boy holds up his hands in supplication.
"I'm sorry! I was just kidding! I'm too pale to be hit! I'll bruise like…like….well, like Rachel!"
"Sorry, dude. Rachel makes the calls, I just carry them out." And gives one moderate kick to Kurt's leg. When Kurt pouts, Rachel hands her boyfriend a pillow from behind her. Finn uses it to whack Kurt on the head, messing up his hair. That gets a bigger reaction from the boy.
"Hey! Watch the hair, you maniac!"
"Alright, boys, that's enough." Carole lectures through a smile.
Yero's head is darting between the boys, watching to see if he should jump in as well. In the end, he contents himself with settling back down at the foot of Rachel's bed.
"We should get going." Burt adds on. "Let Rachel rest."
Shelby looks at her daughter. There are bags under her eyes and she's pale, but otherwise looks fine. For her, at least. Rachel is shaking her head with a small frown.
"I'm fine. Honest. I'm a little tired, but I'm not ready to go back to sleep yet."
"Honey, you had an attack."
"And I rested. I napped. And I'm going to be stuck in this bed for at least a week!"
Kurt and Finn share a conspiratorial look. Finn nods and lifts the bag he'd brought in with him. "Well, Mom and I did swing into the grocery store and bought the stuff you guys picked out. Thanks for the junior mints, by the way, Rach."
Rachel grins as Finn dumps the contents of the bag onto her bed. The pile of junk food is enough to turn Shelby's stomach. Next to her Scott is cringing. She also knows that Rachel won't actually be eating much of it. But if she eats any and it helps her put on a little more weight, it's worth it.
"And, I brought Kurt's laptop." He hands it over to Kurt, who accepts it thankfully.
Kurt looks between Rachel and the adults. "I thought…..only if Rachel is feeling up to it, that is…that maybe we could have our movie night here. We'll watch movies on my laptop and eat junk food, then go to sleep."
Rachel perks up. Seeing her look excited warms Shelby's heart and she knows she's going to cave in pretty fast. A glance at the other adults confirms that they're of the same mind.
"Alright. Kurt, if you're willing to stay, that's fine. I'm sure we can talk the nurses into letting you stay past visiting hours. I can hang out in the waiting room if you two want some time alone."
Kurt momentarily bites his lip. "Um, actually, I was thinking…you could go home. I'll stay with Rachel tonight. Like, all night."
"Kurt,"
"Wait, hear me out! You're going to be staying with her every night for the next week or so, right? She was already planning on spending the night with me. All we're doing is changing the venue. If anything goes wrong, which it won't because she's okay, we're already in the hospital. We'll watch movies and pig out on junk food, then go to sleep. You can sleep in your own bed tonight and come over in the morning well rested!"
"That's actually not a bad idea, Shel." Carole comments.
"We can continue our own plans." Scott just had to chime in, eyes glittering with mirth. He knows exactly what he's doing.
When Burt muffles a laugh behind his hand before managing to turn it into a cough, Shelby glares at him and wills herself not to turn red. "You're both annoying." She ignores the confused looks the kids give them. "Are you sure, Kurt?"
"I'm very sure! I'll either sleep on the bed with Rachel or I'll ask them to bring in a cot. Worse comes to worse, it wouldn't be the first time I slept on one of these chairs. It's just one night. Please?"
"And you're okay with this, princess?"
Rachel nods firmly. "Absolutely. I don't know how long I'll stay awake, but it'll be fun! Or, as fun as staying in a hospital can be."
"Alright. I guess we'll go." She kisses Rachel's cheek and hugs her tight. "Call me at any time for any reason. I can come back at any time, I won't mind, I swear." When Scott smirks and opens his mouth, she "accidentally" swings her purse into his crotch. It wasn't hard, but he winces and steps back, point taken. "Oops, sorry sweetie." She smiles at him sweetly.
Burt snorts and says his own goodbyes with Carole following suit. Everyone turns to look at Finn.
"What? You think I'm gonna leave with all this food here? You think they're actually gonna eat it all? Nah, they're gonna need help."
"We're not in need of a bottomless pit, thank you very much." Kurt argues.
"No, let him stay. At least for a while. Please?" Rachel asks.
As usual, it's hard to refuse Rachel when she's in a hospital bed and frankly looking a little pathetic. "Alright. Finn, you can stay for the movie. If you're going to stay the night, let us know."
The boy bobs his head, easily agreeing. The adults leave together and take the elevator down to the lobby. Scott and Burt have matching twitching lips. Shelby ignores them and chats with Carole. When they reach the parking lot, Burt turns to the other couple and waves.
"Enjoy your mopping!"
"Burt!"
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