Author's Note: This is a little short after the delay, but the chapter was getting too long so I decided to cut it. On a side note, this is why I shouldn't tell people I've been good about updating. As soon as I do, I go three weeks without one.

I'd feel remiss not to say something about Cory Monteith, but I have no idea what. It's a tragedy. I wish it hadn't happened, but it has. As such, my thoughts and prayers go out to his friends and family in their time of need.

Also, hey! Look at that! Twenty chapters! WOOT!

Please read and review if you're so inclined…

"I have fun riding with Santana," Brittany said as she and Santana rode together to the park where the four of them would be jogging for the second time. "It's fun because she gets all angry at the other drivers until I put my hand on her thigh and calm her down. I've always been like that. Able to find the fun in a situation, I mean. Not with the hand on her thigh, thing. Though I've been like that since I've known her, too. But no, finding the fun is like-"

"Britts, what are you talking about?" Santana asked.

"I was doing my voiceover," Brittany said then stopped, confused. "Wait, was it out loud again? Sorry."

"Yeah, Britts," Santana said with a smile, shaking her head at Brittany. "But it's okay."

Well, poops. Brittany hadn't meant for it to be out loud. Again. Santana? Santana! She thought-screamed the girls name. Nope, she can't hear me. Good. Now where was I…? Oh, right. The fun. Finding the fun is like those hidden picture puzzle things. Sometimes it's all obvious like the penguin or the sailboat, but sometimes you have to look really closely like when you're looking for the ladder. Like running today, there's fun there, you just have to look for it. Like, I get to hang out with my bestest best friend Rachel and my super close friend Quinn and my future-wife, current-'complicated' Santana.

I know the Rachel thing may seem weird, just deciding out of the blue clear sky to have her be my BFF and all, but it totally makes sense if you think about it. Rachel needs someone that isn't Quinn because Quinn's all pressed and might hurt Rachel. Santana can't be it because she's accidentally mean most of the time. So it has to be me. Plus, this way, we pair up. Rachel and I are besties and Quinn and Santana are, too. They fight like me and Ash do sometimes, but they're still perfect for each other. Sanni says that when shit hits the fan, eww, bee tee dubs, they have each other's backs, but that's silly. I've seen them both naked, and they never traded backs.

"Britts, we're here," Santana said as she put the car in park. "You done monologuing yet?"

"The kissing disease?" Brittany asked. "I don't think I have that."

They were getting out of the car by this point, each with a coffee in hand, and Santana looked over at Brittany confused for a second. When she realized what the taller blonde had asked, she said, "No, not mono, B. Monologuing. Your voiceover thing."

"Oh," Brittany said. "No, yeah, I'm good."

They met Quinn and Rachel in the parking lot, and walked to the starting area together. A tiny, tiny part of Brittany was mad at Rachel. If it wasn't for her, they wouldn't be out here so early in the morning, Santana wouldn't be mad at being up so early, and Brittany could still be at home playing Super Mario Galaxy 2 with Ashley. They had stayed up too late playing it last night since it had been a Christmas present yesterday. She wasn't as good at those games, but she enjoyed watching her sister play.

But mostly Brittany was glad to be around her friends. She loved them a lot in different ways because they were all so different. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together. Quinn was her leader and made all the sucky decisions that no one else wanted to make. Santana was her awesome future-wife that protected everyone with her vicious words and tiny steel fists. Rachel was… Brittany paused.

She wasn't sure what Rachel was yet. How she fit into the group. In the past, she had been Brittany's super organized secret friend that sometimes made her fall asleep she was so boring. Unless she was standing up. Then Brittany got lost looking at her legs like Quinn did. Rachel had really great legs. She wasn't sure how such a tiny person was mostly legs. Like, didn't they have to have the same stomach and lungs and stuff? She was sure Rachel must have big lungs, too, as much as she talked and sang. But still, sometimes, when she wore short skirts and heels and Brittany found herself staring, she looked like she was mostly legs. Like those pink birds some people had in their yards.

"Okay," Quinn said, and Brittany broke herself off from staring at Rachel's butt. She had a really nice butt, too, especially in those yoga pants. She hadn't meant to stare, but thinking about Rachel's legs made her. Also, her left leg was twitchy. Well double poops. "We're going to do another Seven Step today with Santana as-"

"Five step," Brittany said.

"Excuse me?" Quinn asked, raising her magic angry eyebrow and using her Ice Quinn voice. She didn't like being corrected in front of people, but Brittany had been staring at Rachel's butt and had only just noticed. Santana bristled beside Brittany, and she knew she had to unfuse the situation before someone exploded.

"Quinn, can we talk over there?" Brittany asked, pulling on Quinn's arm to try and lead her away. Thankfully she totally caved and let Brittany lead her over. In her 'visiting sick people in the hospital' voice she said, "We can't do a Seven Step today. Rachel won't like it."

Quinn sighed. "I know, Britts, but we talked about this. It's in Rachel's best interest to make her run and hate Santana so she can get all her anger out. Remember?"

"I know," Brittany said, "but it's not going to work today. Rachel's leg twitched which means she's still sore from the other day, and if we push her too much today, she's not going to run with us anymore. Like, her body maybe could do it today, but then Tuesday she wouldn't be able to run at all, and she'll not like us anymore. She's not us, Q. And if we try to make her run like us, she'll get all mad at us, but worse, she'll get mad at herself for not being good enough. Y'know?"

Quinn bit her lip as she thought about it, and Brittany found herself wanting to kiss her. That might be weird, though, since Quinn was pressed and Rachel would be totally jealous, but she still wanted to. She had cute lips, and Brittany bet they tasted awesome. Maybe if Quinn ever gets unpressed, I can ask Rachel if she tastes good.

"Are you sure, Britts?" Quinn asked. "You're not just saying this because you like Rachel and don't want to hurt her, right?"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Captain Q," Brittany said. She reached out and patted Quinn on the arm. "I know you're all 'I have to help Rachel no matter what' but pushing her past what she can do isn't helping her. You want to make her tough like you and San so the people at school don't make her sad. I get it. But she's not like you and San. She's more like me, all nice and soft and squishles, so you have to just protect her like you and Sanni do with me. I know it sucks. If Rachel wasn't so sad and I wasn't so dumb-"

"Britts, no."

"-people would maybe be nicer so you wouldn't have to make them be nice to us. You shouldn't have to do it. I'm glad you do, though, Q." Brittany reached out and pulled Quinn in, giving her a super awesome Brittany hug because, as her mom said, 'No one hugs like Brittany'. Since her mom said it, it had to be true.

After a moment, Quinn broke the hug, which was probably good because Brittany would hug all day if it were up to her. Hugs were always awesome. "So Five Step?" Quinn asked. "She'll be able to handle that and still keep running with us every other day?"

"Yeppers," Brittany said. "And she needs to start using her ellip…? Ellipti…? Her running-machine-thing again on off days for at least twenty to thirty minutes. But I'll let you tell her that."

"Okay," Quinn said, giving her a smile. She started to walk away, but Brittany remembered something else and pulled her gloved hand back, stopping her.

"Oh, Q," Brittany said. "Umm…" This time Brittany nervously bit her lip, and it made her wonder if Quinn wanted to kiss her now. She already knew she tasted awesome, though. Santana had told her bunches of times. "I know we talked about this, but I don't want Santana to have to yell at Rachel today so would it be okay if I talked to her first. I think I can get her to keep up with us running without Santana having to be mean to her. She can still get all the peace of running without all the insults."

"Britts," Quinn said, and she was starting to use a tiny bit of that pleading 'shut up already so we can go' voice that Brittany didn't like. Not that she didn't like Quinn's voice, but whenever she said stuff like that, she could tell that Quinn was losing her patience. She was like Coach Sue like that. Neither of the women had a lot of patience. It was why Brittany was good for the team. She always made sure to make all the girls feel wanted and appreciated when Quinn and Coach Sue forgot to.

"Just for today," Brittany said. "If it doesn't work, we can go back to S, I promise. Just go tell her not to yell at Rachel today unless she starts falling really behind. Please and thank you."

Quinn paused for a moment and huffed an annoyed breath. "Fine. Now let's go."

As Quinn and Santana partnered up to start their stretching, Brittany took Rachel a little further away so they could stretch but really it was to talk in private. Brittany could sometimes be sneaky like them, too. Santana gave her a 'where the fuck are you going but also I love you' look as they walked away, but Brittany just returned her sunny smile to her and kept marching Rachel away.

"Brittany, why are we going all the way over here?" Rachel asked.

"I wanted to talk to you about San," Brittany said. "But I didn't want her to hear me, because she might get mad at me. I'm not supposed to talk about her feelings with other people."

Rachel started looking nervous and was shooting glances over to where Quinn and Santana were stretching, and Brittany watched for a second. The brunette was currently watching Quinn bending over and stretching out her calves and legs, butt up in the air. "Maybe…" Rachel started, forcing her eyes off of the blonde. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about them, then?"

"We have to," Brittany said. "See, I'm not supposed to say this, or maybe I shouldn't even know this, but when we ran the other day… San was upset about having to be mean to you."

"Santana's always been mean to me, Brittany," Rachel said, and a little of her anger came out. Brittany didn't want Rachel to be angry, especially at Santana. She wanted her BFF and her 'complicated' to be friends.

"Yeah, but only because she's mean to everyone," Brittany said. "But she's never had to be, like, super-laser-focused mean to you before. She said stuff that she didn't want to say. About your mom and your dads and… you hurting yourself." Rachel looked down, away from Brittany. Brittany just continued stretching out Rachel's arms, legs, and spine as she talked. "I talked to her that night, and I could tell she'd been crying."

"I don't… That doesn't mean it was about me," Rachel said. "The holidays are an emotional time of year for a lot of people and-"

"Rachel," she said, stopping the girl's rambling before Brittany forgot what she was supposed to be talking about. "I don't know a lot about a lot of things, but I know people. It's like how I knew you liked Quinn and how I know Santana likes me and how I know that Quinn likes-" but she stopped herself. She wasn't supposed to tell anyone that, especially Rachel. Not until they figured everything out for themselves. Triple poops. She didn't want to lie, but…. "-that Quinn likes Sam. It's like my superpower. San was crying because she had to be mean to you. And I love Sanni, so I'll do whatever I have to so she's not sad, the same as I would do for you or Quinn. Which is why I'm telling you all this."

"I… I don't understand," Rachel said.

"If we go running and you don't keep up with us, San's going to have to yell at you and then she'll cry again tonight," Brittany said. "When she yells at you, you're going to do the mad-determined thing and force yourself to run harder, so I think we should just leave out the yelling part. If you can do it anyway- which I know you can. I would tell them if you couldn't. So if you can do it, then why have her yell at you and make the both of you cry? Why not just run?"

"I'm not certain it works like that," Rachel said. "If you're right and I have to be emotionally distraught to find my determination, wouldn't that require Santana's insults as a catalyst for that process?"

Brittany shook her head because she had no idea what cats had to do with anything. "I don't know if I understood all those words, but if you're saying you need Santana to yell at you, I don't think you do. She already yelled at you the other day. You have a really good memory, right? You remember all the words to, like, every song you've ever heard. So I bet you can remember all the stuff she said to you, too. I mean, you don't want Santana to yell at you, do you?"

"No," Rachel said, fiercely shaking her head. "It was one of the worst exercise experiences I've ever had, but one can hardly argue with the results. I did feel better afterwards."

"And you can again," Brittany said. "Running is peaceful. It gives your brain something to focus on and not focus on at the same time. Like the ocean. You don't need Santana for that."

"I don't know…" Rachel said, and Brittany could tell it was her 'I don't think this is going to work but I don't want to offend you because you're my new friend' voice.

So Brittany went with the same thing she'd told Quinn because apparently no one had any confidence in her today… which totally sucked. People should just trust her. "We can just try it, Rach," Brittany said. "If you start to feel like you can't make it just look at me and remember what we talked about. I totally believe in you, though. And if it doesn't work, Santana can go back to yelling at you, and I'll try to cheer her up after she cries again tonight." Guilt sucked, but sometimes it worked. Quinn had taught her that.

"I don't want to hurt Santana," Rachel said reluctantly. "If this is upsetting to her, too, then it wouldn't be fair of me to make her do something that is going to distress her, though she undoubtedly deserves it after so long bullying me through our school careers. However she did apologize for that, and I suppose that I should forgive her at some point." Rachel sighed, and it signaled Brittany in that she should pay attention again. "We can try it your way, Brittany."

And they did try it. And it totally worked because Brittany was an awesome problem solver even if she wasn't the smartest of the group. She knew people. If she had a superhero name it would be Person Girl. …except that was kind of a weird superhero name, so she decided that maybe she wouldn't be a superhero after all. But anyway, it totally worked. And for the rest of the times that they ran, which was totally the rest of their lives, Santana never had to yell at or insult Rachel again, I mean, past what she normally did. Oh! And everyone lived happily ever after. …hopefully.

Brittany continued her narration as she ran, side-by-side with Rachel. Sometimes Rachel would start to struggle, but Brittany would only have to look over with her super happy, encouraging smile, and Rachel would keep going. She wasn't having fun, but the peaceful look on her face after she'd made it the whole Five Step was worth it to Brittany. She knew Rachel could do it. And Santana wasn't going to cry tonight. Brittany was an awesome problem solver. Now she just needed to figure out how to handle the her-Artie-Santana thing.

The next day, Monday, found Rachel sitting in the waiting room of Dr. Richard's office with Hiram, nervously tapping her braced hand against her leg or rotating the assortment of bracelets on her free wrist. They were quiet as they waited, Hiram reading a magazine and shooting Rachel glances every so often. She couldn't help it if she was fidgety. She hated waiting. Plus, it didn't feel right when she moved her braced hand. Rachel was thinking her tendon brace was too tight or something, that the circulation must be pinched or… something… because the only fingers she could feel on that hand were her pinky and thumb. She wasn't too worried about that, though. She had another doctor's appointment that afternoon for her forearms at the hospital with some doctor there. She would ask him or her then.

Hiram shot her another glance while they waited, and Rachel stopped tapping her fingers against her leg. Fidgeting wasn't the only reason Hiram was watching her. She'd had another small breakdown in the kitchen that morning.

"I'm not going to therapy today," Rachel had announced walking into the kitchen for breakfast that morning after her first elliptical run in over a month and a shower. She had time before her doctor's appointment and had decided to postpone the rest of her morning routine in favor of talking to her fathers. In the kitchen, Hiram was making vegan Mickey pancakes again, her favorite, because of everything that was going on today while Leroy was reading the newspaper. It was to be his first day back to work since Rachel's attempted suicide.

Hiram and Leroy both stopped and looked at her. "Of course you are, Ray," Leroy said, folding the paper and putting it down. "How else are you going to get better?"

Rachel took her seat at the table and poured herself a glass of orange juice. "I'm sorry, I…," Rachel paused, all eyes on her. This had been so much easier in her head. She didn't think what would happen when they were actually staring at her. She still hated talking to them… no, that wasn't true. She hated them looking at her like she was broken, like she would snap and go crazy and grab the nearest knife if they weren't careful. This was so much easier with Quinn around to act as buffer. She wished her new friend- and that's all she can be, Rachel had to remind herself- could be there with her. Quinn may have kept the same watchful eye on her, but Rachel never felt it.

Taking a sip of her orange juice, she continued, saying, "I… I should correct that statement. I'm not going to therapy this morning unless the two of you go also."

"Rachel," Hiram started, shooting Leroy a look. "If you want us to go to family therapy sessions we can do that, too, but your Daddy has to go back to work today. We talked about this last night, sweetie." And they had. Leroy was needed back at work. The past week had been… well, not nice exactly, but it had been… nicer… having him around the house all the time. And she knew he had to go back to work since he was a large part of what they did there. She wasn't exactly sure what he actually did at the law firm, but she knew her Daddy was important. Still, that wasn't what she was talking about.

"I don't mean family sessions," Rachel said, starting to feel the familiar panic set in. Why did they keep staring at her like that? Couldn't they just… look away or something? She wasn't some kind of carnival attraction. "I don't want… I mean, I don't think that would be…" She took a couple of deep breaths. It wasn't coming out right and she just suddenly wanted out of this conversation. "You two need therapy!" And, okay, she probably shouldn't have shouted that like a crazy person, but she was feeling like a crazy person.

Hiram was suddenly beside her, rubbing circles on her back. "Rachel, deep breaths. You're okay, sweetie."

"Stop," Rachel said, standing and knocking the chair and Hiram's hand back. She turned her head from them and stepped away. It was stupid, and she knew just because she couldn't see them didn't mean they couldn't see her, but it helped. A little. At least she wasn't screaming at them. "Just… stop staring at me. I hate it when you stare at me like I'm some- some crazy person. I'm not. Or maybe I am, but… I'm just… just stop. Please."

"Rachel," Leroy said, standing and coming over to her. They surrounded her on both sides and must have been able to tell from the way her eyes were looking around the kitchen, wide and panicked and looking for a way out, that this was the wrong thing to do. Leroy immediately dropped to his knees so he wouldn't be so high above her, and Hiram followed suit.

"Ray, baby," Leroy said again, putting his hands on her arms to keep her from running off. "You're not a crazy person. Don't think like that. And we're sorry if you think that's how we've been looking at you. It's not. We've been concerned, baby. That's all."

Hiram added from her other side. "This is all so new to us, sweetie. We don't know what to do for you anymore. You have to tell us what's wrong."

"I…" Rachel said, sitting down on the floor cross-legged between them. She wiped at her eyes, at the tears that still threatened to fall. "I don't like our family anymore." She looked down at the hands in her lap, refusing to look at her fathers that had joined her sitting on the floor. "I don't like what it's become. You two aren't happy. I'm clearly not happy." They were silent for a moment, waiting for Rachel to continue. "We didn't used to be like this."

"Ray, sometimes families change," Leroy said, "but we'll never stop loving you, if that's what you're concerned about."

"I don't just want you to love me," Rachel said. "I want you to love each other, too."

Her fathers looked at each other, sitting across from Rachel, but it was Hiram that finally spoke. "I think we'll probably always love each other, sweetie, but sometimes relationships don't always work out. You've had a couple of boyfriends now. You know that it's true."

"But they didn't mean anything," Rachel said, surprising even herself with that. Backpedaling, she added, "I mean, they did, and I loved Finn and even Jesse, but… it wasn't like what you two have. You've been together for twenty-five years! You don't just… just throw that away. Right?"

"Ray…" Leroy started again, but Rachel cut him off.

"So… so I'm not going today to my therapy appointment unless you two promise to go, too. To your own couple's therapy. A marriage counselor."

"Rachel, you can't blackmail us into getting help," Hiram said, slightly stern.

"It's not blackmail," Rachel said. "You want me to get better, right? Because I'm important to you. Well I won't feel better unless I know you two are doing all you can to work on your relationship because that's important to me as well. Part of…" and she stopped, not sure of how much she wanted to tell her fathers. Christmas had been so amazing, though, and she still wanted to think she could get better, get back to the person she had been, and part of that was being honest with her fathers.

"Rachel?" Leroy asked, prompting her.

Sighing, she said, "Part of the reason I felt so… felt like everything was falling apart was because of our family. I'm not blaming you, not really. But… if you had just talked to me and explained what was going on, then maybe I could have reacted better. We never… we've never kept secrets from one another in this family, and I know I withheld information from you, too, and I'm sorry, but the bullying, that only affected me while your marriage affected all of us."

"That's where you're wrong, sweetie," Hiram said. "Whatever affects one of us affects all of us. The bullying included."

"So you agree with me about the marriage counselor, then?" Rachel asked. "Because your marriage affects all of us, too. And if I'm important enough for all of us to rally behind, then so is your marriage."

"Damn, H," Leroy said, smiling. "You walked right into that one."

"Not helping, Lee."

"Not trying."

They shared a smile over Rachel's head, causing her to look back and forth between them. "So we're all agreed then? Because I'm actually kind of hungry after my morning exercise and near emotional breakdown."

Another quick silent conversation passed between them before Hiram had said, "I'll make the appointment today, sweetie."

And Rachel, though she trusted her Dad as much as she did any man in her life, sat in on the phone call first between Hiram and Dr. Richards's office who recommended an excellent marriage counselor and then between Hiram and the marriage counselor's assistant. It was only after that point that Rachel had relented into changing and getting ready for her first non-hospital therapy appointment with Dr. Richards.

Dr. Richards stepped out of his office and into the waiting room with a man, shaking his hand and telling him he would see him again next week. As the man left, Rachel stared, albeit a little unabashedly, and Hiram had to call her name to get her to stop staring.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Rachel Berry," Dr. Richards said, shaking her hand and welcoming her into his office. "So good to see you again."

"Thank you, doctor," she said. He motioned her to a chair, and Rachel was a little disappointed he didn't have a giant faux-leather couch she could lie on. She was always a stickler for the classics. He took a seat across from her, opened a sleek black mini refrigerator beside his chair that perfectly matched the décor of the rest of the office, and handed her a bottle of water.

"Thank you," Rachel said politely.

"You're welcome," he said. "So tell me, how have you been since we last spoke?"

Author's Note #2: I actually know nothing about psychology or therapy sessions, so I probably won't ever go into Rachel's actual therapy appointments. I may provide snippets of their conversations as flashbacks at some point if they're incredibly relevant to the story, but there probably won't ever be a chapter or a section that's just therapy. I know this story is about Rachel coming back from her suicide attempt, but I don't think I can do that part of the story justice. Besides, it's really more about how Quinn helps Rachel that how Rachel gets help. The next chapter will pick up later the same afternoon. I hope no one's too terribly disappointed.

Again, feel free to comment/review if you want.

Oh! I almost forgot. To the Guest that left the comment about Howard Stern, let me just say this: I see what you did there. Very clever, sir or madam. It definitely made me smile.