Affliction

by Doodle19

Everybody has problems and everbody chooses to deal with them in their own way. So when the world around Rachel and the walls she put up come crashing down, how will she deal? And will anybody be there to help her survive? Rating subject to change.

35. Don't Want, Need, or Accept

I do not own Glee, I only play with the characters and create others to play along.

Sorry about the confusion, last chapter was edited and instead of hitting replace I hit delete like an idiot so I had to re-upload it and it sent out an alert like a new chapter, but this is the new chapter, which, apparently, in the mess up, I didn't upload right or something. I don't know, apparently, I'm inept. Are you following, because I'm not… I got the messages, but I wasn't home to fix it until, well, now. And then I found that the file was corrupted so bits and pieces were all screwy. That's life I guess. So, this is what you get. It's a little choppy I think but that makes sense because it's parts of the original chapter and pieces of what would've been the next chapter. It's probably for the best. It moves things further along. Anyway, sorry about that, but on the plus side, I finally added a story cover that wasn't my drawing! My little doodle seemed a little too happy for this story. Don't you think?

Chapter 35: Don't want it; Don't need it; Won't Accept It

April… It was nearing the end of April and everything had changed. Rachel would say it was for the worse, but to Shelby and Casey, it appeared to be for the better; at first at least. It was what they didn't know that was the problem. It was what Rachel was working overtime to keep hidden that was the problem. So much had changed in the span of a few weeks, yet so much was just more of the same.

When Rachel found the journal with Casey, she relished in the small victory. She truly thought she found her journal, private thoughts still her own. She had no idea how untrue that was and she couldn't put the subtle clues together. For the rest of that night, no matter what else was on her mind, everything was lighter. Still, she was itching for her fix. Getting the journal back, though, gave her a high too; like an adrenaline rush. She escaped death in a way and that felt great because she honestly saw no other escape if she didn't find it. She didn't know what to do if it got out…

But the thought didn't matter anymore because it was found again. It was back in the privacy of her room and safe from prying eyes. Thank god! But that was only the beginning of it. As great as that felt, things were going to get worse before they got better. And she truly believed they'd never be better again.

After the first day back at school, things didn't seem to get any better for Rachel. Santana and Noah were still on her case. Noah was more passive about it. He had others do his dirty work; making them spy and follow not so covertly. But he kept some distance. He wasn't doing it intentionally, and he did talk to her on the phone at night and text back and forth with her, but he couldn't be near her. He was dealing with his grief still, as he suspected she was too, and he had to do that in his own way. One of those ways was picking a fight with a rival jock who was bigger than him. And, yes, that may have been stupid, and he got his butt whooped pretty good, but the punches he landed and the bruises he gave, they were his reprieve. Plus, his face was untouched so no one would notice; just a few messed up knuckles. He knew Rachel wouldn't approve of that. She told him as much, so he kept some distance, dealt with his things so he could help her deal with hers. He'd still take her to Del that Monday to get the stitches out and, if she asked, he'd sneak in her room in a heartbeat, but he had things to figure out too. That didn't mean he was ignoring her. He left a vegan muffin from a nearby bakery in her locker every morning so he knew she'd have something to eat and he even attempted to do well on his assignments in her honor. He made it a point to take care of her. He just had other people keep an eye on her while he couldn't, and if they did their job, he would know about the slushie attacks and put an end to those as well, but they were incompetent; most of them were.

Quinn kept giving her pity eyes. Rachel hated the pity eyes. That was worse than the teasing and insults and general meanness. A mean Quinn Fabray was one she could deal with. She had years of practice with that and, though it still hurt, grew to expect it like she was immune to it. But pity eyed, quiet, insultless Quinn was something else. It was unnatural; so unnatural… What was worse was she didn't say anything. Not one word. And that made others suspicious and start asking questions. It was nothing she couldn't dodge, and Quinn was equally good at evasive maneuvers, but it was just weird.

The tides were changing. The winds were shifting. The mood was different. And Santana was still Santana. She wasn't lying when she said they were going to talk. She made sure that happened. Rachel managed her time well and hid whenever she spotted that brown Cheerios' high pony tail coming her way, but there was nowhere to run when it was just Santana and her waiting for Kurt in the auditorium.

"So midget, you gonna tell me what's what?" She had her cornered, standing at an intimidating height as Rachel sat on the piano bench.

"I'm afraid you need to be more specific Santana." She really didn't want to put up with any of it. That day consisted of the week's second slushie attack, being tripped by some jock, and another missing assignment. She got caught up on all the late work just to miss the current stuff. Smart right…

"Why is my friend being all mopey and sad? He hasn't even tried to throw someone in the dumpster since we've been back from vacay. That's not like him."

"Have you tried asking him what's wrong?" Rachel asked, yet to look to Santana. Instead, she fiddled with sheet music and attempted a few random keys.

"Of course I did. Believe it or not, I'm no heartless bitch." Rachel scoffed as she continued to press the keys. "Hey." Santana put her hands on Rachel's to still them. "All he did was ask me to keep an eye on you. So that's what I'm doing. Tell me what's going on because he wouldn't and I need to know."

"There is absolutely nothing going on with me. I, however, cannot speak on Noah's behalf. For that, you'll have to ask him."

"Yeah, well, apparently the problem is you." Rachel's head snapped in her direction. What did Rachel do? It was about the baby… He blamed her. That was the only thing she could really think of. What else could it have been? And she didn't blame him for finally realizing the truth.

Santana could see she didn't get that out there in the right way since Rachel looked like she just got whiplash; like she just kicked her puppy. "Relax. He didn't say you were the problem, just to watch out for you because he couldn't." He couldn't because he didn't want to… He didn't want to be around her because he hated her for what she did; what she caused. "So something's wrong. What is it?"

"Nothing's wrong Santana. While I appreciate your attempt at concern, I really don't need it. Noah is going through something, just… just make sure he's ok. If you could do that. Just try to do that. He's hurting."

"And how'd you know that?"

"I just do." She said solemnly. Noticing that Santana was starring and on the verge of saying something, she was grateful when she heard the auditorium doors open. Without looking to Santana, really just looking down, she pointed toward the entrance and said, "Kurt's coming."

"What?" Santana didn't even hear him. She was too focused on figuring out what ate Rachel's berry.

"Kurt. He's here."

"Oh, yeah, right…"

Rachel put on her smile, just as Santana threw out her scowl, and they awaited Kurt. He seemed to be taking forever to make it down the aisle, but once he did, they jumped right in. It was odd how well they worked together. No one would expect it, but there was no fighting or arguing. They just had their songs and they practiced them. Yes, there were some minor disagreements. "We should do it like this not like that." That kind of thing. But they actually acted like a team. Rachel liked it, though she had to ignore the looks she was getting from Santana which in turn caused confusion for Kurt. It was a weird cycle.

And when they presented their ideas at the end of the week, it went well, but not great. Rachel was disappointed in her performance, but that was par for the course. Santana and Kurt seemed to hit every step and every note with perfection and she just fell flat. The clapping was weak, and, though she once said she needed applause to live, it just wasn't sustaining her. However abysmal she felt about that, people liked their song choices and their idea for the original songs.

Needless to say, Mr. Schue used that to his advantage. The following week the whiteboard held a new phrase, "original songs." How original of him… But, at least her ideas were out there. He determined he was going to take all of the groups' ideas into consideration and after the original songs were written, he'd go through those too, and then he and Shelby would settle on which would be best. It wasn't ideal. Rachel just wanted the set list to be finalized so she could learn what she needed to learn and perfect it as best she could. But with Schue, it was usually a last minute effort.

She didn't care though. She did her part. She'd show up where she was needed and make whatever performance she was told to give the very best she could; even if, to her, it still wouldn't be good enough. That was her role. That was where she was at. That was where she would stay. It wasn't the best of places, but, for her, it wasn't the worst either. There were more pressing concerns; like keeping things hidden from Shelby.

Home life was, well it was being stuck with Shelby all the time. Dinners and even breakfasts were like being on lockdown. She ordered Rachel to sit and didn't allow her to leave until the plates were clean. And Rachel had no choice but to obey. The pockets of all her sweaters had really weird stains that were impossible to explain. So she didn't…

It started getting like that Tuesday, her second week back from vacation. The first week it was a little more pressure to eat. Dinners were more of the "don't eat, don't dance" variety, and Rachel did as told, pulling off some of her old tricks and some new ones whenever she could. It wasn't ideal and she absorbed more calories than she had hoped, but if she managed to make it, she always emptied out right before hitting the ballet floor. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was an adjustment she had to make just to keep up appearances for her mother. Shelby, though, had all sorts of surprises in store for Rachel.

Monday morning, amidst their chaotic routine, Shelby pulled Rachel aside. "We're leaving halfway through glee today." Shelby informed her daughter, effectively making her stop dead in her tracks.

"What? Why?" Why would she do that? More importantly, how was she going to get out of whatever it was Shelby was getting her in to? She had stitches to get out. It was impossible to be in two places at once and she felt the stitches were probably more important than whatever.

"You have an appointment today." She remained calm. She could see the fight building in Rachel's eyes and hoped it didn't erupt. Keeping herself level headed would keep Rachel the same, she hoped.

"An appointment?" Shelby nodded. "For what? With who?"

"Her name is Dr. Etcher. She's a licensed physician, but…"

"Another doctor? Why?" She cut Shelby off.

"While she is a doctor, she is a nutritionist as well."

"Why do I need to see her?" She was nervous. Something wasn't right. Shelby had been on her about food more than usual and they were watching her more closely. It just didn't sit right with her. She couldn't quite put the pieces together and she didn't know they knew, but she figured they suspected something. That seemed the most likely and she needed to fix it. ASAP.

"I told you Rachel. I'm worried about you. And so is Casey. Dr. Cantor said you were underweight and we gave you the opportunity to gain some. I tried getting you to eat more so you can continue all your activities, but this is it. You haven't gained anything. If anything, you've lost more and I can't let that continue. So we do this or you're done with glee and dance."

"What?" Panic. Without that she had nothing; less than the nothing she already had. "You can't do that! You just want me fat and alone. That's what this is about isn't it?" The anger was getting the best of her. It was uncontrollable.

"Do not yell at me Rachel!" She was giving Rachel one last free pass. She knew springing things on her daughter often led to outbursts and it was worse when there were doctors involved, so she'd let it go as long as she calmed down. Plus, the worry outweighed the anger. Her daughter wasn't seeing reason. Instead of understanding it was for health reasons, she thought it was to get her fat… Not logical at all… "You couldn't be more wrong. I want you to be loved and happy. But I want you to be healthy. And that's all I'm trying to do. So I'm giving you a choice." She hoped it didn't backfire. Rachel lived for dance and glee, taking that away, or threatening to, would be the only way to get her to do what she wanted. So, she did it. "The appointment is later today. I will call and cancel right now if you want…"

Rachel perked up. Of course she wanted that, so she quickly responded, "I want."

"But, if I cancel, we will be leaving glee, coming home, and I will be calling Renee to withdraw you from her class."

"You can't do that." Rachel insisted.

"I can, and I will, but the choice is yours."

"But I don't want to go." She whined. Shelby expected nothing less. She wouldn't have been surprised if it was followed by a storm out and a door slam, but that was a punishable offense. There was only so much she could let slide.

"I need you to hear me out."

"There's more?" She wanted to cry. She couldn't give up glee and dance, but she didn't want to go to any doctors either. She didn't want someone to tell her how to be fat. She knew how to do that all on her own and she wanted to unlearn it. Food equals bad. That was her motto.

"Yes. Today, if you agree, we're going to see Dr. Etcher." Rachel weakly nodded to let Shelby know she was following, not agreeing, just following. She wasn't happy, but she was listening. What other choice was there? "And on Wednesday I'm taking you to see Dr. Matten."

"Dr. who? Another doctor? For what?!" Now she was getting angry. Two doctors in one week. How fair was that? And what kind of doctor was the second one? Another person to force food at her? What a joke…

"Dr. Matten is a psychologist."

"What? I don't need to see a psychologist. There's nothing wrong with me!"

Shelby could see Rachel getting jittery. It wasn't something she saw often, barely ever in fact, and it wasn't something she liked to see. "Rachel, sweetie…"

"Don't call me sweetie." She snapped.

"Ok, relax. Please sit down and let me finish or we just end this right now and you won't show up for glee at all and I'll call the ballet school to tell them they need to put in your understudy."

"You can't do that!"

"I can and I will." Rachel stopped her pacing. What did she do next? "Come sit." Sit apparently…

Huffing, she gave in. She had to. Play the part Rachel. Play the frickin' part… "Fine."

"Ok Rachel. I know you've been having a hard time."

"We don't have to talk…"

"We do. You need to stay quiet and let me talk." When Rachel slumped into the chair and remained silent, Shelby took that as a good sign. "Since your dads died, and even before that, you have been struggling."

"I have not." She hissed defensively. She had things figured out. Who was Shelby to say differently?

"You have. And I know I'm partly to blame. I never made your life any easier and then you were thrown at me, forced here when I'm sure you wanted nothing more than for your fathers to be home taking care of you." She had that right. "I've hurt you." She said honestly, willing to start accepting responsibility for the damage she caused. "So many people have, and now you're hurting." She could see Rachel about to protest once more and simply put a hand up to silence her. "You've been sad. You've been angry. You've been so many things, but I don't think I've really seen you happy Rachel. And I want to see you happy. So this is where we're at."

"Where is that exactly? Sitting on the couch in your living room having a conversation I wish we weren't?"

"No. We're working on making you happy."

"How do you know I'm not happy? Maybe I'm just not happy around you." Not the right thing to say, she was aware, Word vomit; a serious case of it… And Shelby felt bitten. It hurt.

"That's a possibility." She admitted unhappily taking everything in stride. "But it's more likely an all around thing. You've been withdrawn lately; for a while really. You don't participate as much as you used to. You don't ask to go out often. You've been losing a lot of weight. And it's not healthy Rachel. I'm worried about you and the dangerous path you're heading down." It seemed best to just leave it at that. Blatantly saying that she knew more would've only caused more problems. The goal was to help her. "So I want you to go to these appointments and I want you get better and enjoy your life."

"I enjoy my life just fine, thank you. Maybe I've lost weight, though I don't see it, but that was only because I needed to." Definitely not the right thing to say. She needed to heed the age old wisdom and think before she spoke. "Can't I just do this on my own? Why do I need doctors?"

"You need doctors, because I don't know how to help you. As much as I'd like to make things all better, I can't do it by myself."

"You have Casey."

"You're right, we both have Casey, but you don't really talk to either one if us about your problems. So you need to talk with someone. That's where Dr. Matten comes in. You haven't been able to grieve because you had to deal with everything else and all the changes. You probably have so much going on in that busy head of yours, and she'll be there for you to vent and work through whatever you want."

"And if I don't go?" She asked with a sense of defeat. She couldn't give up the only things she had left. That would be like pulling the last string. Without it, there was nothing to hold her up.

"Then I make the calls right now. You will not be going to Nationals and you will not be performing in the recital."

"Fine." She agreed, unwillingly, and then stood. "Can we go now?" The attitude was back, but Shelby felt accomplished and had a smile to show it.

"Yes, let's go."

They made it to school feeling two completely different ways. Shelby was riding a high. She felt like she was actually beginning to make progress; like she was being the mother she knew she was capable of being and actually making a difference. She actually agreed, and easily. She didn't see that one coming. She expected a big fight, a blow out, or something equally as huge. And Rachel did give a little sass, but it was nowhere near as astronomical as she assumed. Was that supposed to comfort her or worry her? For the time being, she chose the former; comfort felt much better.

Rachel, however, wasn't at all happy with this new step. She accepted it because she had to. It was something she considered, but she ultimately decided she couldn't give up dance or glee no matter how worthless she felt in both. So she gave in. She agreed to go see some stupid doctors. But that wasn't the end of it. It wasn't just that easy. She had plans. Yes, she was going, but that didn't mean she had to like it and it definitely didn't mean she actually had to make the effort. She never went to a nutritionist before, so she didn't actually know what to expect. She'd have to look into it. But she had been to a shrink before. She knew what would happen there and she knew just what to say and do to appear the perfect, most cooperative patient. That and that alone, was the reason she agreed to go. She knew how to get away with saying nothing and making that enough. Shelby thought she was winning, but Rachel had ideas of her own.

First things first though, she had something to take care of. She had to find Noah; Noah who still seemed to be avoiding her and watching her from afar. She waited for English to be over before approaching him in the hall. She didn't want Shelby to overhear. "Noah. Noah, wait!" She called after him.

"Hey Rach." He replied when he noticed her.

"I've been calling you Noah."

"Sorry. Didn't hear you."

"Are you avoiding me?" She asked with a scrutinizing gaze.

"No. I needed space Rach. And so did you."

"Yeah, ok." He was right. And he deserved some time away from her crazy.

"What's up?"

"Are you… are you still going to take me to get you know what out by you know who?"

"That English Berry?" She was trying to be covert. Obviously, it wasn't working.

"Noah, are you still taking me today?" She asked again, pointing to her arm for further aid.

"To get the stitches out? Course, I'm takin' you."

"Great, how do you feel about missing last period?"

He felt great about it. Why wouldn't he? He was getting out of class and spending time with his girl. Though, he wasn't sure she was his girl. Was she? Was that really what he wanted? He thought it was. And with everything that happened, he could actual picture it; a future with her and a life with their children. That was part of why losing the baby was so hard. It was hard, like it would be for anyone, but especially hard because he realized that one day he might want that with her. And, on some level, Rachel wanted that with him too. She just didn't think he'd ever want that with her.

Their thoughts on that continued to whirl around as they drove a fairly silent ride. The only time they spoke was when Rachel asked if he was sure Del would be there and he assured her she would be. "I called." He told her. And that was enough. The rest of the ride, or most of it, was them being left to their thoughts. That was, until their thoughts became too much and they both had something they wanted to say.

"Noah." "Rachel." They spoke at the same time.

"You first Berry."

"No, please, I need you to talk first." She really did. Hearing him would either talk her out of or into saying what she wanted to say.

"I've been kind of laying low this week. You know, like avoiding you…" She noticed. "But it wasn't because of you."

"Then why Noah?"

"I'm messed up." A given… "And you're messed up." Understatement…

"Excuse me?"

"Just listen to me. Please? Just hear me out." He said frustrated. He knew he wouldn't say it right, but he needed to say it right then and there, in a moving car so neither of them could escape. "We're both really messed up. And I couldn't be with you since… everything because I needed some time."

"I get that Noah." She said sadly. He was, in effect, breaking up with her; ending them before they even really began. That was what it felt like.

"I… I was sad… no, I am sad. I would've made a great father."

"I know." She said quietly, just looking at the passing scenery.

"We would've been parents and that, that scared me, but I wanted that baby. For a moment there, I actually thought you were pregnant, that that was what you were telling me. And I was terrified, but a part of me was excited too…"

"Why are you bringing this up Noah? I don't want to discuss the… it…" It hurt. It all hurt and he was stomping on her already broken heart.

"Rachel, what I'm trying to say is that I can see us with kids." He sighed. Nothing was coming out the way he planned. It didn't sound the way it did in his head. "You know, us, in the future… You a big star, me doing something… a family. I can see us as a family."

"What are you saying Noah?" That time she looked to him. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Maybe he wasn't ending their arrangement? She wouldn't have blamed him if he did, she was a mess, like he pointed out, and she didn't really want sex after just losing a baby so she really couldn't give him what he wanted. So why wouldn't he end it?

"I'm saying that our whatever, our friendship, it's more than that to me. I… I get that now. When I found out Quinn was pregnant with Beth, I imagined my child. I imagined being a dad to her, but I didn't ever see Quinn there with me. But with you… I wonder what we would've had. I want to see you dealing with our badass son or teaching our little princess to dance."

"You… You're saying you want kids… with me?"

"I want more than that Rachel. I want a life with you." He said sincerely, pulling the car over.

"You do?" She was shell-shocked. Was that really Noah Puckerman talking to her?

"I don't know what we are right now. We're friends and we have sex. And I don't know what that means, but, other than Santana, you're the only one I actually kept coming back to. You're the only one I still called a friend. What I'm trying to say is… is that… well… I like you."

"I… I… like you too Noah."

"So be my girlfriend."

"You… you want me… to be your… your girlfriend?"

"Hell yeah Berry."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Even with everything? After everything?"

"I need you in my life and I know you need me too. You make me… better. We're both messed up. We might as well be messed up together. Right?"

"So… you want me because we're both messed up?" She was slightly offended. It sounded a little like she was a last resort; a convenience.

"No, I want you because you're you. You used to be this annoying chick that was hot and fun to look at, yeah, but you're so much more. I want to be around you. I like being around you, and I like you. So be my girlfriend Rachel, please."

"I don't know what to say Noah."

"Say yes."

"Is this really what you want? Given what you know, what you've seen, why don't you hate me?"

"I could never hate you."

"I hate me." She said without thinking.

"Well, don't. You're beautiful. You're smart. You made me less of a failure. Hell, my mother would have us married by now if she knew you were the reason I'm not flunking, actually pulling off Cs and I'm not getting in much trouble. I suck at relationships. Never really been good at them and never had a reason to try, but now I want to try. You make me want to try. I don't know if it's going to work. But I want it to. So let's try this."

"Is this really what you want Noah?" She asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer. But, at the same time, she couldn't help but feel a tiny glimmer of hope. Noah had seen her at her worst, in the aftermath of a decision she made, and he was saying he liked her. He knew her dirty secrets and he was saying he wanted her as his girlfriend. It didn't make sense to her. But she wanted it too. Honestly, she had for a while. She just didn't think it was a possibility. No one else wanted her. Why would he? With the exception of Jacob Ben Israel, she didn't think anyone would ever want her in that way. Sure, there was Finn, but that was… That was a lapse in judgment on both their parts. They didn't work. Reflecting, she realized that no matter how much she tried, they never would. All that was beside the point though, Noah was offering her something she wanted, She wasn't sure she deserved it though. That didn't mean she wouldn't take it.

"Yeah."

"Even… even if I don't want to, you know… have intercourse for a while?"

"I'm not after your body Rachel." Did he just say that? More importantly, did he mean it?

"But I don't understand why you want me?"

"And I don't get why a girl like you would ever want to be with me, but I hope you do. I want to help you Rachel. I want to be with you and I want to help you. Let me."

Ignoring the help part, a simple smile turned at the corner of her mouth as she responded, "I want to be with you too."

"Good."

"Yeah, good."

"So, you wanted to say something?"

A little shocked, "Nuh… no, I think you covered everything."

"We should go in. Shelby already thinks I'm a Lima loser. Her finding out we skipped isn't on my to-do list."

"You have a to-do list?"

"Beside the point… It would be on there if I had one."

"Noah." Her icy hand went to rest atop his, stopping him from opening the door just yet. "I … I like you too, but I know how much your reputation means to you."

He just put his heart on the line and she was going to reject him? His heart was breaking a little. "So you don't want to date me?"

"No, no I do. I just. We should take things slow. I am officially your girlfriend, but maybe, for your sake and for mine, we should start acting more like friends around our peers before we announce ourselves as a couple."

"You don't want people to know?"

"This is coming out all wrong… I just don't want… People will talk. I don't want you to be slushied like last time."

"They slushie me or you and I kick their ass."

"Noah." She chided.

"Rachel."

"Think about it Noah. I'm doing it for you. Shelby will know. What if she keeps you from Beth? What if she keeps us apart? I don't want that." Her concern was genuine. Shelby had expressed her dislike for Noah and though she was warming up to him, he was still the bad seed in her eyes and she saw how Shelby got when the topic of dating came up.

"Ok."

"Ok?" That was easy.

"Yeah, you're right. And you're already the best girlfriend I ever had."

"I am?" Also, probably his only real girlfriend…

"Yep." He leaned in for a light peck on her cheek. "Let's go. Del's waiting."

By some miracle, they managed to get the stitches out and Del's clean bill of health, at least where the cut was concerned, and drive back to McKinley all before last period ended. They were in a state of bliss, something Rachel hadn't experienced much of. But, for however long it lasted, she wanted to bask in it. Noah was her boyfriend. He wasn't ashamed of her. It was… It felt right… Though the high would fade and she'd undoubtedly ruin it eventually, she was going to enjoy it while she could. And Shelby would be none the wiser to their relationship or their truancy. It was great!

And she rode that wave all the way to the nutritionist; the pleasantness of it all wearing off as soon as they pulled into the lot. She didn't want to be there. She didn't want to have to talk to anyone. She didn't want to understand how people thought she needed to be fat again; fatter than she was. She worked hard to lose it and she was far from done. Why would anyone want to put it back on her? Did they want her to suffer?

"Are you ok Rachel?" Shelby asked when she saw the suddenly stricken look on her daughter's face.

"Fine." Of course she wasn't ok. She was walking into the start of her demise.

"I know you don't want to be here. But it's for your own good." How comforting… Her own good… Shelby didn't know what was good for her; she hardly even knew her.

The first appointment wasn't so bad. It wasn't like a regular doctor and it wasn't at all what she was expecting. And Shelby decided Rachel didn't have a choice in the matter; there was no physical exam, so she was going in too. It was awkward, as were most introductions that she didn't want to be made, but she tried her best to relax when Dr. Etcher began talking.

"What do you want out of this appointment Rachel?" She asked.

"I want Shelby to let me dance and leave me alone." Rachel answered pointedly, sending a glare Shelby's way.

"What are your goals?" She didn't have any. She guessed, if she really had to come up with one, it was to get out of there unscathed. She didn't want anything to change. But, she came up with a better answer than that.

When the woman started asking about weight goals, Rachel clammed up. She didn't want to talk about that, especially not with her mother there. What were her weight goals? To lose more… Though, answering like that would defeat the purpose of appeasing Shelby. Noticing the change in her patient, Dr. Etcher kindly asked Shelby to wait outside for a few minutes. "I'll come get you when we get to the next step." She assured the nervous mother.

Hesitantly, Shelby left the room and that gave Rachel room to answer "honestly." The only thing she was honest about was her name. It was a step up from her last doctor's visit… "I want to be healthy." Was the answer she gave. Was it true? Maybe, somewhere deep down, she wanted that. But, in the forefront, she just wanted to be thin and happy. Health wasn't something she generally put on high priority any more. Talking about weight and fat and all that nastiness was not something she liked at all, but she kept reminding herself that she had to. If she wanted to remain in dance and glee, she had to. So she did it. She listened when she was told what was deemed appropriate for her height and weight and what work they would have to do to get her there. And once that portion of the day was over, Dr. Etcher called Shelby back in and they moved.

"What's a typical food day for you Rachel?" She asked as she had her file and pen at the ready.

Honest answer: small bites of fruit for breakfast, bathroom visit… skip lunch altogether if possible, vegetables if not… dinner was whatever was forced down her throat, and, usually if applicable, another bathroom visit… The answer she gave, however, didn't reflect much truth. "My mornings consist of some type of fruit, granola or one of my favorite vegan brand cereals, with a glass of soy milk. Shelby can attest to that." Lie, but it looked like truth. Shelby could confirm that. She couldn't confirm that Rachel immediately turned it into waste when she left the table to get ready, though that was her concern. "For lunch I either pack some sliced vegetables and snack packs or I eat a salad from the cafeteria." Lunch hour was spent in the auditorium if she could make it there, working her ass off to perfect her skills. "And dinner is whatever is served that day. Shelby or my aunt Casey is in charge of that. You'll have to consult them for further inquiry."

From there, after discussing normal dinner with Shelby, they talked about Rachel's favorite foods, the things she liked the most, and even the things she liked the least. Really, they just made a list. "The key is to find the right balance between nutrition and indulgence." Rachel was told. How about she just didn't indulge and she'd worry about the rest later?

So many grams of that, some number of milliliters of this… This many calories a day. High calorie this. Fat content… Carbohydrates… None of the words were what she wanted to hear. Her idea of a diet was eat all and excrete it after or eat nothing at all. She didn't see what was so wrong with that. It worked for her. But, apparently, she needed a mea plan. "Keep a detailed food journal." She already did that. It just wasn't something she was willing to share with anyone else. "You need to compensate for the calories you burn while dancing and running through routines." High protein suggestions were made. "We're going to come up with a general meal plan. You can deviate with your choices, but try to stick with it as best you can." If she had to hear another ratio of starch to fiber or whatever, she was going to hit something, but she kept her cool. She did the kind, obedient thing and smiled, giving the occasional head nod. Oh, Shelby was so going to pay for making her go there.

They were both relieved to get out of that office. It definitely wasn't painless, but it was easier than Rachel anticipated. It did give her a lot of excess work though. There were charts and lists and things to look over as well as food logs to be kept. That meant she was going to have to do two separate ones and Shelby just had to be there to watch as she did the real one. Shelby may have been happy because they were getting the ball rolling, but Rachel, Rachel just wanted it over and done with.

Oh, she'd do the work. She'd do it for appearances sake. But that was all it would be. It was another layer, another act, an addition to her façade. It was more to add to her plate and that meant something needed to be bumped. Bye-bye homework. She didn't need to do it anyway. Who cared? Though, she wasn't doing much of that as it was… Oh well…

As soon as they got home, after dance and all, they sat down for their dinner. Rachel fidgeted around in her seat as she stared at her food. Ignoring the conversation, she had a monologue of sorts going in her mind. Casey was sitting too close for her to put the food in her pockets and not be suspicious. They'd knock elbows and that would draw attention. Damn it. What was a girl to do?

"Rachel did you hear me?"

"What?"

"Your aunt was talking to you."

"I'm sorry Casey. Will you please repeat whatever it was you said?"

"I asked how your appointment went today."

"Why don't you just ask Shelby? She seems to have all the answers." It was a smart ass thing to say, but it didn't come out nearly as harshly as it could have.

"Rachel." Shelby growled.

"I apologize again. It went fine. May I be excused?" She wanted to call Noah. Her boyfriend. She liked the sound of that.

Shelby knew the day seemed too easy. The fights always happened at home. Anywhere else, Rachel was the perfect little angel people thought she could be. "You may not. You haven't eaten your dinner. We waited and are eating late just for you. So eat please. And when you're done, I want you to help clear the table and do the dishes. Is your homework all done?"

"Yes." She huffed.

"Good, then when the dishes are done, we're going to start the calendar Dr. Etcher was talking about."

"Do we have to? I mean, is it really necessary?"

"It is Rachel."

"Whatever."

Dinner went slowly. She barely got away with eating bits and pieces; just enough to appease Shelby and know she burned it all off with the day's workout. Shelby seemed pleased. It was another day passed. For that, they were thankful. Not all the days would be so pleasant.

Shelby had off work on Wednesday; a fact Rachel found cagey. They had the psychologist's appointment that day. She was sure Shelby would be all over her. Instead, she was mysteriously absent. She wasn't complaining. Not having Shelby everywhere was great for her, but she knew something was up. There had to be something. Casey was going to look at another house, but she would've known if Shelby was going too. So where was she and what was she doing?

The answer was at Dr. Matten's office. Shelby made plans to meet with her earlier to discuss the situation briefly before she met with Rachel. They talked over the phone a bit, but she needed to do it in person. "It's nice to finally meet you Ms. Corcoran."

"Shelby, please."

"Ok Shelby. You wanted to discuss Rachel a little before we met this afternoon?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what's going on?"

"I told you her fathers passed away a few months ago."

"I recall that, yes. That was how she ended up in your care." Shelby confirmed that and went into a little more detail about her relationship with Rachel. She needed the doctor to be informed so she could help her daughter. So Shelby told all she thought she needed to up until recent times. "And now you believe she has an eating disorder, yes?"

"I'm almost sure of it."

"Why?"

"She's a small girl, naturally and when you see her, you might not see it right away because she likes to wear really thick clothing, but she's… she's not healthy." Shelby shook her head. "I don't know how I didn't see it, but there were signs. I may have caught her throwing up at one point. I thought she was just drunk. Not just… but… she was coming home from a party, so I assumed… But she cuts her food into tiny pieces and shovels it around the plate. She… I don't even know. Her doctor said she needs to gain weight that she was bordering on unhealthy and that was back in January. I didn't think anything of it then. I just thought it was the grief. But then my sister read her diary. Now I have no more doubts." None that she could justify…

"Have you confronted her about it?"

"Absolutely not." She exclaimed. "Rachel isn't very receptive to me. If I did that, nothing would help. I'm taking a different approach. I'm getting her help without her knowing why."

"I don't think I understand. How are you doing that?"

Shelby then explained how she convinced Rachel to go to the nutritionist and to see her. She told the doctor that she wanted to help Rachel, but she knew confronting her wasn't the right way to do it. They weren't at that point yet, though, it was possible that that type of intervention would be necessary in the future. Until then, she wanted to take whatever steps she could. They were getting her started on a meal plan. They were trying to get a little meat on her bones; so, physically, they had started working on it. It was Dr. Matten's job to work on the mental aspects.

"Once I meet with her, I must warn you, if I feel she's a danger to herself and/or others, I will recommend she be put in a rehabilitation facility."

"And if that is what you think is best, I will have to consider it. But she lost so much this year. She lost her parents. She was thrown into an environment she wasn't comfortable in. She just has so much going on that I don't want her to be branded with the stigma of crazy. So meet with her. Talk with her. Do whatever it is I'm paying you to do. Just help her, please…" She agreed.

And just a few hours later, Shelby was back in that building with her little mini me there too. Rachel tried getting out of the appointment making several excuses, but nothing worked. Though, Rachel had to admit, she wasn't as nervous about that one. She had been to a psychiatrist before. She knew how they worked. She knew what to say and how to answer the questions. Just give enough, she told herself. Answer honestly, but vaguely. She knew what to do. That didn't mean she was looking forward to it though. And Shelby seemed more nervous than she did.

"Rachel Berry." Her name was called and she stood to go in. Shelby did too. Leaving Shelby in the lobby, though it took some convincing that she wasn't going to bolt, Rachel made her way in.

Another meet and greet. Another few minutes of pointless introductory questions. It was all done before. But the woman before her seemed intent to see through her. The blue eyes just stared at her like they were expecting something. "What brings you here today Rachel?"

"Shelby believes I need to be here in order to work through my fathers' passing."

"And what do you believe?"

"I believe that I am working through it just fine." She insisted. She did her thing. She said her goodbyes her way. There was nothing left but to make peace with that. She couldn't change anything. As much as she wanted them back there was no magic that could give her that. So, what other choice was there but to move on? Had she? She didn't know, but she'd say she did.

"How did you do that?" Matten asked. Rachel told her, honestly, about the private ceremony she held for them; how she upheld their wishes and set them free. It didn't matter what she wanted; that she may have wanted a grave to visit, something tangible to see. No, she gave them what they wanted and said goodbye forever. That had to be that. Thinking about it hurt.

The first meeting didn't touch on the eating issues. Dr. Matten simply observed and garnered insight. There was definitely something going on. Given what Shelby told her, she could see the concern had merit. But she needed more time to assess the situation and dig deeper. So, once the hour was up, she handed Rachel a composition book and told her, "I want you to journal Rachel. Your mother tells me you do that anyway, but this one is just for here. Write what you feel. Write what you're thinking. Do it whenever you can, at least one entry a day. When I see you next we can talk about it, go through some of the feelings. We'll talk."

"Great." She feigned… something. What if she didn't want to talk?

"Why don't we head out into the lobby?" Dr. Matten led Rachel toward the door and out into the reception area. Shelby immediately stood when she saw them. "Shelby, I'd like to speak with you for a moment please."

"Sure." She nodded. "Rachel, stay here. No heading outside like last time. You be here when I get out."

"Ok." Rachel agreed.

Shelby followed the doctor in only to return to an impatient Rachel five minutes later. Silently, she walked over to her daughter, told her to follow her, and led them to the car. Nothing else was said until they were safe within the confines of the metal walls. "What did she want to talk to you about?"

"We were just discussing a schedule Rachel. Nothing to worry about."

"A schedule?"

"Yes. Twice a week starting next week, you're going to see her."

"Twice a week?! That's more than… Why twice?"

"We both feel it's in your best interest Rachel. There will be no arguing."

Huffing, she slammed her body back into the seat with her hands defensively crossed over her chest. She was not happy. All the bad news always outweighed the good. The people around her wanted to turn her into a tub if lard and get her to eat the world's fattiest foods. And they thought she was crazy too. It wasn't fair!

But, she was, not for the first time, realizing that nothing in her life was fair. She couldn't just be. There was always something in her way, blocking her from getting where she wanted to be. So, angry as she was, she'd do it. She'd do it, very unhappily, to keep doing the only things she thought she could do. At the very least, her front would buy her some time to figure out something better.

The rest of April was more of the same. Dinners were continual struggles. There was no escaping them. Rachel did what she could to get out of them, nearly having panic attacks when Shelby kept her at the table too long on days where her normal tricks just wouldn't fly. It was harder when Casey moved out. Her husband showed up and they were living together, as expected, finding their own way in Lima. Though she only lived one street over, she wasn't always there to be the buffer. She was the calming glue between the two and without her, it was a bit chaotic.

Rachel was becoming more rebellious. Nothing else seemed to be an option, and that was how she dealt. Screw the consequences. She was skipping more classes. She and Puck used the auditorium for extracurricular activities of the private kind while they should've been in class. Just like she predicted, homework was put on the backburner, and by the end of the month, the teachers were fed up. They could no longer turn a blind eye when someone with such promise, someone they all saw going places, was crashing and burning right in front of their very eyes.

The last Friday in April, Rachel saw the end of the line coming. It was closing in on her and the perfect portrayal she was giving was going to be exposed. She may have been participating in the "exercises" her doctors prescribed and she "ate" her food, but she wasn't better. It was all a very convincing show. To anyone it would look like they were all doing so well. The appointments were routine and she went, with fake enthusiasm and she talked about nothing of importance. But she did talk, mostly about her fathers and Shelby a little too. If she gave it more of a chance, it might have helped. Her mind just wasn't at that point yet. Instead, she was forced into testing boundaries and she pushed it a little too far the day before. She knew nothing good was coming her way, so she decided to push just a little further.

She was pulling a lot of stunts, but she had to. She was sneaking out at all hours to go running. She gained six pounds! Six pounds! She had to burn it off. And she had Puck sneak in all the time just to hold her. It made sleep easier. And though she felt disgusting, she liked having him there. The control she once found in her obsession was taken from her and she had to find it elsewhere.

And the night before, not only had she went off on a teacher at school; that was bad enough, but she skipped classes, again, and yelled at Shelby after a bad therapy session. Dr. Matten asked her questions she didn't want to answer. It set her off. She couldn't help it. She was being forced to participate in things she had no interest in and she was being kept from doing things she yearned to do. She still did them, sure, but not nearly enough. And with each tiny fraction of an ounce being added to her body, she lost a little bit more of herself and unleashed a more volatile side.

Every time she was forced to keep the food down, every time she couldn't make it to the bathroom or go out for her runs or burn it all off, she added a new cut to her body. She tried to stop. She couldn't and now it was getting warmer, though she usually felt cold, and soon the long sleeves would turn into short and hiding the embarrassing cuts and scars would be harder, but she couldn't stop herself. It was punishment. She couldn't control anything else, but she could control that. She got to pick where and when and how and size and depth and all of that. It was all she had. And she loved it; sickeningly so.

Her life was supposed to be about balance, but she didn't have many choices. Her life was consumed by others and their decisions for her. Breakfast was at a certain time and consisted of toast and oatmeal and fruit and whatever else Shelby deemed part of the plan. It was more than Rachel was used to. She didn't eat that much on a normal day, let alone one sitting. And more and more just kept being piled on her. Food was not her friend and they were putting her in a room together forcing interaction. She couldn't handle it. And her moods were erratic. She didn't know what to do anymore. So she did the only thing she could. She made waves.

Knowing that the teachers were going to say something to Shelby at some point that day, she decided just not to go. It was her choice; one of the only ones she actually got to make. So Friday morning, after making her way into school with her mother hot on her heels, Rachel scattered. As soon as she was out of Shelby's sight, she went to find Puck. Once she did that, it was easy to convince him to go somewhere with her; anywhere. People would've assumed Puck was the bad influence, and sometimes he was, but it was like all her good qualities were rubbing off on him and she turned into the bad influence. He only skipped when she asked. Sure, he misbehaved all on his own, but nothing serious. It was her…

She really did suck…

"Where do you want to go?"

"Well, Shelby's at school… Do you… Do you want to go to her house? Beth's with Casey during the day until she starts her new job, so we'd have it all to ourselves." She was trying to be seductive. "Mr. Schue has some meeting today so there's no glee. We can watch movies… Maybe make out in my room. You can take me to my dance class, and then we can go make out some more." She was definitely presenting him with an enticing offer.

"What if Shelby finds out? Won't you get in trouble?"

"Haven't you heard?" He shook his head no in confusion. "I'm already in trouble. Shelby is undoubtedly going to ground me tonight, so this might be our last chance to be just us for a while."

"What'd you do?"

"Is that really important right now?" She questioned. Was he turning her down? Was she really as unattractive as she felt?

"No." He laughed in response, planting a soft kiss on her lips. "After you." He held open the door for her as they got into his car.

Shelby would not be happy. And, for once, Rachel really didn't care. She was so tired of playing by the rules. She was so tired of being the good girl. She didn't want to be the part anymore. She just wanted to be. Just for one day… She'd be the good girl again tomorrow… She'd have to be if she ever wanted out of the house again, but for the few hours of freedom she knew she had left, she was going to use them to her advantage.

I didn't take long for them to get back to the house where Rachel promptly let them in. From the moment they stepped out of the car to the end of the day, their lips barely left each other. Most of the day was spent cuddling on her bed. She wouldn't let him go any further. She didn't want him to feel the fat that she gained back. She didn't want him to feel the new cuts on her skin. And though she yearned for his touch, she couldn't fathom the idea of more. There were too many risks involved with that and she couldn't handle those again. So it was strictly rated a strong PG-13. Make outs and a little feeling over the clothes.

Shelby wouldn't see it so innocently.

"What time," kiss, "is Shelby," another kiss, "supposed to be home?"

"Four or five. I don't know. Later."

"Ok." He wasn't in a position to say more. He had his hot ass girlfriend lying on top of him, making out with him, and, while he would've liked more, a small part of him was happy she didn't want to do anything else. It was a nice change for him; like she was making him take it "slow." He wasn't used to it, but he liked it… with her. Even so, and even though he knew he shouldn't have brought it up, there was something he needed to ask.

"Have you done anything else since…?" He left it open ended.

She pulled away from him and sat beside him with a questioning look. "What are you talking about Noah?"

He reached for her hand and held it delicately, like a glass sculpture he was afraid to drop. "Have you done it again?"

"What? Noah, I said I wouldn't. I haven't." He wanted to believe her, but the light in her eyes, the one he hadn't seen in so long, seemed even darker than usual. She looked better. Sure, she still looked like she gained another forty pounds, but she definitely put on a little weight. She was tiny before. He always felt it, but it never really mattered in those moments. And he was aware that on such a small frame, a little gain could appear to be more, but however much it was, it was a start. And he was proud of her. He just wouldn't mention it. The few times he brought up the subject of food and weight, she freaked. He learned not to do it again. But, when he saw the slight changes, when he learned she was talking with a professional, he assumed it would be taken care of. That didn't mean he wasn't worried though. The cutting thing just scared him more. He witnessed that so it was realer for him.

"Can I see?" He didn't ask to piss her off, though that seemed to be where they were headed. "The scar. Can I see it?" He wanted to see it, and maybe make sure she was telling the truth.

She ripped her hand away from him like his touch was a scorpion ready to release its poison. "No Noah. I'd prefer it if you didn't look."

"Why?"

"It's… it's embarrassing." That wasn't a lie. "It's not something I want you to see. And I really rather we never discuss it again."

"Scars are sexy babe. I just want to see it."

"I said no Noah!" It came out angry and vile and she found that she couldn't really control her outbursts most days, but she knew then that she had to calm herself down, "Are we going to sit here and argue about a silly little scar or are we going to continue?"

His response, although with a weary face, was to sit up and take control. Placing a kiss on her neck, he pushed her deeper into the bed and gave her an answer. He didn't like when she pulled away from him like that; hid parts of her she didn't need to. But what was he to do? He was working on helping her. He and Santana were doing all they could. They sat with her at lunches when she showed; even got Kurt to get out of his happy relationship bubble and hang out with them. And Quinn wasn't being much of a bitch to her at all. When they snuck off together he always tried to give her some of that candy and chocolate she liked so much. She seemed happier and better, but she was also not his Rachel yet. She still wasn't herself.

He'd figure it out and he'd get her there. He wasn't the brightest in any subject and relationships weren't his strong suit, but Rachel was important to him. He trusted her and he hoped she trusted him. So he gave her the space she needed and backed off. The smile was worth it. It had to be enough because he wanted her to be alright so badly. He wanted to believe the lies she told just like everyone else. So, like everyone else, he bought into it and turned a blind eye. She was ok. She was happy. It was a onetime thing… Ignorance was bliss. Plus, he loved making out with her. He was a dude, sue him…

They were there all day, oblivious to the world around them. So oblivious, in fact, that they didn't hear the car pull in or the door slam shut. They didn't hear the angry footsteps rushing up the stairs or the clicking heels moving toward them. All they heard was their own breath and the sucking noises that came from their intimacy. There was no room for anything else in their heads. They were intent to ignore it all.

"Get out." It started calmly, but it was enough to break the teens apart. "Puck, get out of my house before I force you out." He stood frozen. Coach Corcoran scared the shit out of him. "Get out now! Do not make me count. If I have to start counting so help me God…"

"Leave him alone Shelby. We weren't doing anything wrong." That was her defense; and a poor one at that.

"It's ok Rach." He saw the brewing battle. Shelby was ready to blow and Rachel was getting worked up. He didn't want to be there for the eruption. "Bye babe." He moved to her then whispered in her ear, "Call me." Then he leaned in for a kiss.

"Enough. Get out!" He didn't have to be told again. He was out, scurrying away as fast as he could. At least he didn't have to use the window. That really would've sucked. He was a little amazed that Rachel saw it all coming. Yeah, he wasn't going to be taking her on dates any time soon.

"What is your problem Shelby?" Rachel got off her bed and moved toward the older woman. "You can't just ruin everything for me."

"You have five minutes to get ready Rachel. I'm taking you to dance. Be in the car in five minutes. If I have to come get you, you can kiss the recital goodbye." Shelby didn't once look at her. She was fuming and she knew if she so much as looked toward her daughter she'd let loose. After a hard day and after learning a few facts she never wanted to hear, she wasn't in the mood to come home and find her teenage daughter being fondled by McKinley's biggest man whore. So she told Rachel to be in the car and left the room.

She sat in the car trying to get control over herself. "1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10." Wasn't counting to ten supposed to help? "11. 12. 13…" It wasn't. She was still burning at volcanic levels. It was not ok. Nothing about that day was ok.

Less than five minutes later Rachel was in the car, Shelby still wasn't calm. She wasn't sure what she was feeling. Maybe numb? The anger and sadness and everything was just too overwhelming that she was just numb? She wasn't really sure. But Rachel slamming the car door did nothing to help matters. Seatbelts on, car ready, Shelby's fingers wrapped around the wheel so tight the blood couldn't circulate, and they were off.

A silent Shelby was a scary Shelby… Rachel didn't realize that until that very moment. Her mother said nothing as they drove. She didn't look at her. She barely moved. She was in so much trouble. And that last mood swing in her room, she figured, made things worse. "Shelby, I'm sorry about…"

"Shut up Rachel." Shelby hissed, her hands squeezing even tighter.

"What?" She was confused. Was she doing something wrong? "I was just going to apolo…"

"Shut. Up. Rachel. Just shut up. I don't want to hear it."

"But."

"I don't want to hear one word from you for the rest of the night." Because if she did, she was seriously considering releasing the filter, releasing the little control she had over her actions and letting loose. One slap wasn't child abuse, right? "You are not going to open your mouth again. We are going to dance. You will get out of the car. When it is over, I will be in the parking lot in the exact spot I'm pulling into now. As soon as you are dismissed, you come into the car without a word, no idling about. And in here, you will say nothing. And when we get home. You will go straight to your room, shower and get into pajamas." She huffed and looked toward Rachel, holding the last breath just to be safe. "Is that understood?" No answer. Not good. "I asked you a question Rachel! Is that understood?!"

"Yes… Yes ma'am." She was scared. Petrified. Oh, the decisions she was making were just one catastrophe in the making after another.

"Good. Get out."

"What?"

"Get out of the car. Go to dance, just go. Get out. Go." Before she lost it, because she was close…

Rachel was scared enough that even through the shock, she listened. She never saw Shelby quite so… Was there a word for it? She was angry. That was clear. But she was also so very calm. And that was worse. Rachel couldn't read that… So she got out of there and nervously made her way through dance. It was not a good end to her day.

Shelby remained in the car, doing her best to keep breathing. "In and out." She reminded herself. "In and out." But no amount of counting to ten and deep breathing exercises were helping. They wouldn't because her life was too much of a mess. Her daughter was too much of a mess. They had been ignoring things for too long, taking the easy route and hoping for things to resolve on their own, but that was over. Oh, was it over. Shelby Corcoran may have been an easy mother to her estranged daughter. She let her get away with more than she should've and allowed things to happen that she wouldn't dream of allowing with Beth. But it was over. Mama Shelby was out and Coach Corcoran was moving in. There were no more games.

Neither woman could tell if time was moving too slowly or much too fast. And neither was ready to face the other, but time was up. Time was up and Rachel was, honestly, too scared not to listen and head straight for the car. She was all for making the mess, but lying in it afterward wasn't something she was used to dealing with. She had no clue what to expect from the version of Shelby she had before her. So, as gently as she could, she got into the car, closed the door, and put on her seatbelt. Walking on eggshells was no fun. What if she broke them?

Again, nothing was said. She actually hoped for some yelling; at least then she'd know what to do and what to expect, but nothing ever came. She waited for permission to do anything, even get out of the car. Rachel followed her like an obedient puppy into the house and waited for direction. With a simple hand gesture, still silent, Shelby gave a firm point to the top of the stairs and Rachel knew to follow orders. To her room she went… At least she got out of dinner though. That was a major plus in her book. If groundings meant going to bed without supper, she would've put herself into time out the moment she stepped through that door. Just, not to the extent of the situation she currently found herself. She didn't see any fun in her future. And it was her fault. But at least she found a bright spot in it all. She got to miss dinner and lunch, and she got rid of breakfast. So there'd be no worrying that night; not about food anyway. But she was far from calm. No, she was looking for the closest sharp object as soon as the door closed. And she found it…

Downstairs, Shelby went straight to her office, bypassing the kitchen where she knew her sister was with Beth and locking the door behind her. The hours in the car weren't enough to get her calm. She didn't know what a few minutes alone in her office were going to do, but she had to try. It seemed like the longer she was left alone with her thoughts, the angrier she became. She wished she knew how to change that, but there didn't seem to be a solution. There didn't seem to be an easy fix for everything that was wrong.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to yell. She wanted to physically harm her daughter. And until that last one went away, she couldn't go anywhere near Rachel. She really didn't know if she would do it; if Rachel said something or moved wrong if she'd hit her… She thought she might. Her hands were ringing her hair, practically pulling it right out of her head. She was stressed. So very, very stressed…

"Shelby, are you in there?" Casey asked as she gently knocked on the door. She couldn't answer. Speaking in that moment would lead to tears or screams and neither one was appropriate for her sister. "Shelby?" She asked again. Moving toward the door, she unlocked it and moved away again. "Shelby are you alright?" She still didn't answer, just walked about sighing and huffing and counting and trying really hard not to explode. "Shelby, you're scaring me. Do I need to call mom?"

"I don't know what to do anymore." She finally spoke after minutes of nothing.

"What's going on Shelby?"

"I don't know if I can do it."

"Do what?" Casey was trying to follow, but there wasn't much in the way of clues.

"She's out of control."

"Rachel?"

"She's just… and I…"

"What did she do this time?"

Collecting herself as best she could, she looked to Casey and spoke. "After skipping my class this morning, her teachers asked to meet with me during our lunch period."

"Which teachers?"

"All of them Casey. All of her teachers wanted to meet with me and not one of them had good news."

"What did they have to say?" Casey asked with concern; concern for both of her relatives.

"She's behind. I mean really behind. Her homework has been sloppy and that's on the rare occasion it's actually turned in. I don't know what to do. Things were better. I thought they were getting better." Her voice was cracking. She thought she was doing right by Rachel. Apparently, she was wrong…

"They are Shelby. They are. She's just looking for another outlet. We've taken away the rest. She can't exercise as much. We keep her at the table for as long as we can after meals. We took it all away and she's acting out."

"Well, it's not ok. Nothing is ok. I can't… And she…" There were a lot of half thoughts and rambling, but Casey followed for the most part.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I sent her to her room."

"And…?"

"And when I cool down, I'm going to go talk to her."

"What are you going to say?"

"I don't know. I don't know…" She sighed, her hands rubbing at her temples. "I have no clue what to say. Skipping classes, bad grades… I caught her with a boy in her room…"

"Oh, a boy? Which boy?"

"Her boyfriend apparently." She said with disgust, the sight of her sister's small smile annoying her more. "Casey, you're not supposed to be excited about that. I caught them on her bed…"

"Having sex!?" She quickly interrupted; her smile gone.

"About to be…"

"Were clothes off?"

"No Casey, they were completely dressed. That's so not the point. She knows the rules and she broke all of them." Shelby was pacing, walking circles around the room enough to make Casey dizzy.

"Have you said anything to her?"

"No." Shelby stilled. "No, I haven't said much, because right now… If I try to talk to her, I might kill her. And I don't think either of us are capable of hiding her body. You'll crack under the pressure and lead the cops in my direction."

"Shelby…"

"No." She was breaking. The tears that she didn't even know were there were beginning to fall. "I don't know what to do about any of this. She was better. The psychologist said she was talking. She was doing the work. What happened?"

"I wish I had the answers Shel, but I don't."

"This ends now." Shelby said abruptly, sobering up the moment. Her body tensed, the tears were pushed away. She was in action mode; that was not good.

"What does that mean Shelby?"

"This ends. No more of any of it."

"What are you planning?" She didn't even want to listen anymore.

"First, I'm going to kill her…"

Sitting on the stairs, head tilted back onto the wall, Rachel let herself drift and drown out the voices. She heard enough, and she didn't like any of it. They were trying to change her. But she didn't want to be changed. And she didn't know how much they knew, but they knew enough. She liked what she knew; what she relied on in her life was all she knew. There were certain things she could count on. Giving sacrifice to the porcelain god on a daily basis was one of them.

She remembered the first time, the first time she made herself throw up. Most people remembered their first kiss and first dance and important things like that. And she remembered all those too, but, to her, that first time was more important. It was a defining moment. It was a moment that changed the course of her life and led her down the path she was traveling. It was a dangerous slide into a messy world, but she was so dependent on it. And it was a feeling she wasn't willing to give up. They were trying to take that all away from her. How could she let them?

The answer was that she didn't. She didn't and wouldn't let them take any of it from her because that was the equivalent of sawing off a healthy limb for sport. It just wasn't done; unless it involved a psychopath and that would be a different story completely. The thing was she couldn't let them take away the only thing she trusted; the only thing she knew to rely on.

She'd just have to find other ways. And she had other ways. Yes, she got in trouble. And yes, Shelby was putting her in lockdown, but that never stopped her before…

They wanted to help her, but they were only making things worse. She didn't want help. She didn't need help. And she wasn't going to be accepting it either. That was something they'd all have to accept themselves.

Until then, she could hear the footsteps approaching and took that as her cue to skedaddle. She was in enough trouble without disobeying direct orders. It was not going to be fun…

I'm sorry for the long wait. My dog died, life got busy, and well, does it really matter? It's here now.

Next chapter's the beginning of… something. You have to read to find out what it is.

Happy holidays everyone. I had a great, semi uplifting, Christmas message, but since I had to re-upload this again after, well, I hope everyone's holidays were merry and great. Let's go with that. Happy New Year. 2012 sucked, so here's to a better 2013! See you then…

I apologize for any grammar and spelling errors. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Until next time…

Guest 1) I was happy I updated too! Sorry this one took so long. Hope you're still enjoying this tale. 2) Long is good right? I prefer longer chapters. I need to work on the ASAP though. Sorry. 3) I did update. But this site and all things technology hate me. I'm sorry I killed you :) but no more dying, it's here. 4) Either, both, neither. I don't know what exactly happened, but I'm sorry for the confusion and craziness. This chapter was supposed to be out before Christmas. 5) Happy holidays to you too my friend. May 2013 bring nothing but good.

majestic seahorse Jesse doesn't really have much of a place in this story. I originally planned a bigger subplot for him, but I didn't have the room for it. However, I think he shows up one or two more times. I'm not sure yet. So maybe you'll get your wish.

Just Me It is heartbreaking, but that's the reality of eating disorders. I'm very happy to find you think it's fantastic. I will work on updating quicker. I really do try.

CarolineSC Thank you! Hope this one is just as good in your book.

Tzsia87 The ball definitely starts rolling next chapter. Keep in mind that I said I wanted a realistic resolution. Those take times. And they're not always pretty. Make of that what you will. It all begins to clear the path to resolution next chapter. The one after that… well, wait for it and see.

ozftw You have read that chapter before. Sorry. But it was edited. Some things were added, but nothing really of significance. Hope you keep enjoying it as the journey begins to wind down. We're almost there.

MakingLuck101 That's a wonderful compliment, thank you very much. Keep reading, I think what happens next is… I don't know the right word for it. Exciting seems wrong…