Chapter 13

Four Years Later

Slam! Rachel fell against the wooden door of their small apartment. When the numerous grocery bags fell to the floor, she wasn't hesitant to follow. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to catch the breath she'd been holding in.

Today was really stressful for Rachel. Well, most days were stressful for her. But, today was a little more than usual. After months of making straight a's in all of her classes, she'd received a failing grade on her previous exam. It felt like a blow to the stomach. She'd been studying her ass off for the past two weeks for this one. She thought she had the information down-packed.

Then, Professor Mason placed the paper faced down on her desk with a knowing facial expression. She knew from that moment that she was finished. But it didn't mean that it didn't feel like crap turning it over and actually seeing the percentage for herself.

He was lenient, however, which was a good thing. This was one of the many reasons she'd come to like him the past couple of months she'd had him. Well, that, and the fact that his eyes were bluer than the ocean, he was only 25, and his ass wasn't that hard to look at.

When class was finished, he pulled her aside and informed her that he'd schedule a retake. She was relieved, but that didn't excuse the fact that it was already half-past her final semester at NYU and she'd already started to slip. Medical school was around the corner if she could make their ends meet and she couldn't risk it.

"Thank you so much. I really appreciate it," she smiled at him, turning to get her books that she'd placed on his desk. When he grabbed her arm, she turned back to him.

"That's not the only reason I asked you to stay behind, Laurel." She'd gotten pretty used to her alias.

"Is something wrong?" she worried.

"Why don't we make this a two-way street?" he asked.

"I'm not really sure I understand what you mean," Rachel admitted.

"Well, let me explain." His arm began to trail up the sleeve of her sweater before moving to push back a strand of her hair. His blue eyes met hers. However, she was not as affected as she'd been the first day of his class. There must've been a difference, admiring from afar. "I grant you these favors, and you pay me back in return. What do you say?"

"I say that you're crazy if you're suggesting what you're suggesting." Pushing away his hand, she grabbed her books and hastily paced away. He stopped her.

"Oh, come on, I've seen the way you've been looking at me all semester," he pushed. "Am I supposed to take that as me being crazy?"

"You're not hard to look at," Rachel couldn't believe she'd just been as blunt as she had. But, he nodded in acceptance. "Plus, I'm not the only one. You should hear the things the other girls whisper about you when we're early to class."

"Look, I've got a whirlwind on my shoulder right now. There are shifts I have to cover, people to support, bills to pay… The last thing I need right now is to be sleeping with my professor to boost my grade. Besides, no offense to you or anything, I'm just not that kind of girl." She explained, holding out her free hand to create distance between the two.

"You really think that that's what I meant? For you to sleep with me?" he asked with disbelief, grinning and looking to his feet. It reminded her of someone, but she instantly pushed that thought back.

"Well, what am I supposed to think? You were babbling on about favors, touching my hair, and then doing that weird thing with your face that guys do when they're about to ask something big." She replied.

"You're really something," he laughed to himself before returning to his normal composure. "I just want to ask you out."

"Okay," Rachel stopped him. "That absolutely cannot happen."

"Laurel, it's not like I'm some creepy old professor hitting on you. I'm just a guy, who's had his heart broken way too many times, looking for a second chance." He said, grabbing her hand.

"Well, suggestion, you should try looking elsewhere. You're my teacher and to me that means something. You're really sweet and nice and really good at what you do, Mr. Mason, but this is all I have going for me. I can't screw it up."

"Can we make this less awkward by you just calling me Nick?" he joked. "I don't think Mr. Mason works with this situation."

"I'm really sorry, Nick." She reprimanded herself.

"Just one date," he pleaded, holding up his index finger to express the simplicity of the suggestion. "Just one," he repeated.

"I can't," she reminded him.

"Are you in a relationship or something?" he wondered.

Yes is what she should have told him. But she knew that that wouldn't be correct. It hadn't been for years. Again, she cleared her head of the thought. Instead, she slowly shook her head before backing up to create more distance. "I'm just not really sure I need to be getting into anything right now, especially with my teacher."

"Like I said before, I'm just a guy wanting a second chance at love." He assured her. She couldn't help the chuckle that left her mouth.

"I can assure you, love is the last thing you will find with me."

"You really aren't used to getting asked out, are you?" he raised a brow, lowering his gaze.

"It's not that. Nick, I'm really sorry for seeming so rude. It's just that I'm really not into seeing guys right now. My heart is currently with someone else."

"It's just one date." He repeated, grabbing her hand. "If you don't like it, you can bail. All I'm asking is for you to consider it." "I like you, Laurel. You're not like the other girls. You're real, and smart, and you keep me infatuated every single day with your sarcasm."

Before he could get any closer to her, a knocking presented itself at the closed door. Rachel moved to open one of her books. He looked over her shoulder, pretending to explain the text.

One of the other professors from down the hall quietly stepped in, gaining both of their attention. "Hey Nick, I'm sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions about that Power Point you lent to me." It was an older man, in his later 60's if Rachel had to guess.

"That's fine, we were just wrapping up here." She watched the two men converse. Nick turned back to her. "Tonight while you're studying for that retake tomorrow, really take the time to think about what we just discussed, Laurel. It'll help you a lot. Good luck," he smiled as she turned to get the hell out of there. Closing the door behind her, she sighed and shook her head. What the hell was she supposed to do?

Pulling herself up from the floor, she removed her coat and scarf before retrieving the grocery bags from the floor and dumping them on the kitchen countertop. It was Thursday, so that meant it was her turn to cook and clean tonight. She'd been reluctant about the arrangement in the beginning, because she'd had no former experience of either. But, once she and Santana started the rotation, she'd gotten the hang of it.

Speaking of Tana, she was supposed to be home right now. The girl usually greeted her within ten seconds of walking through the front door. They always joked with each other about being like an old married couple. They'd even adapted the saying "Honey, I'm home".

Gathering the supplies to make spaghetti and meatballs, Rachel found a note on the fridge describing her friend's whereabouts.

Dear Rachel,

One of the waitresses is out with mono and won't be back until next week. I got called in last-minute tonight to cover her shift. I apologize and will explain later. I should be home no later than ten. Please, take over for me at home. I promise I will pay any inconveniences back in full.

-Tana

Rachel nodded her head in acceptance of the news before moving around the kitchen to begin dinner. Digging into the liquor cabinet on the top shelf, Rachel pulled down their latest bought bottle of Pinot Noir wine. Pouring a glass, she decided to get more comfortable before putting anything to cook on the stove.

Moving into the bathroom, she walked to the mirror. Grabbing one of the many ponytails sitting by the sink, she tried to pull up all of the hair that she could reach.

She definitely wasn't looking at the same eighteen year old girl. Although age wasn't yet evident in her 22 year old face, her transformation was.

She couldn't deny it. Once she'd gotten to New York, with the help of Santana, she'd become different. Numerous amounts of physical changes were made; nothing too major like surgery or anything. She just didn't look like the girl she'd once been anymore.

First thing's first, she'd ditched her eyeglasses all-together. Since Lasik was entirely too expensive for the two, Rachel gained a year's worth of contacts from the cheapest eye clinic they could find within the area.

Along with that, her Doctor at the free clinic recommended Accutane. It was a stretch, but she'd worked hard enough to afford a year's supply of that too. Since then, she'd worked on the clock to keep her skin clean. She had a nightly routine and everything. It proved successful so far. Her face was finally clear after years of being so insecure about it.

She also had her braces removed the first year they'd been in the city. Then, on a drunken New Year's Eve, she absent-mindedly agreed to allow Santana to practice her cosmetology skills on her hair. The girl had applied a darker brown hair dye to her long locks before chopping all of them off. She now sported short hair. She was horrified that New Year's day, but since then, became accustomed to it. It was a lot easier for her to manage and made her look a bit more attractive than she'd been before; at least that was what she thought.

And, apparently, so did every other guy in New York City. She didn't mean to sound egotistical, nor did she want to. She remembered the day when she thought it'd be a blessing. But, now, it became a bit of a nuisance. She had no problem with the nice guys who'd simply compliment her and make her feel good about herself. She'd simply turn them down and they'd move on, no questions asked. It was guys who made her feel like a dog when she walked into the room that she hated gaining attention from.

Every time she'd step out at night with Santana and a couple of the friends they'd made from their separate jobs, they'd make their presence known. Hooting and hollering, she felt like they thought she was some slut who'd give it up with one look from them. It didn't even stop there. When she'd refuse them and the cheap drinks they'd buy for her, they'd boost to further lengths.

And Santana was always reminding her that she needed to get back out there and into the dating world. This only made things worse. She wanted to, no doubt. But, every time she tried, she just couldn't. She didn't know if it was because her head was too crowded or maybe her expectations were too high? She longed for what she once had and none of these guys could meet that. And, even if they did, she didn't know if that would be enough for her. So, every time, she simply declined the offers.

She scoffed, shaking her head. After four years, here she was…again.

Turning off the light in the bathroom, she headed back to the kitchen to continue her work. About halfway through the trip, she stubbed her toe on an object in the dark hallway and fell to the floor. Curling in pain, she wondered what caused it. Getting up, she turned on the light. Picking up the object, she observed it. A small baby doll looked back at her. That's when something dinged in her head.

"Shit!" she called out.

Checking the clock on the wall, her heart dropped in panic. She didn't have time to think. She quickly grabbed her key, locked the apartment, and ran down the street to the nearest entrance to the subway station.

Thank goodness her wallet was in her pocket. She sat towards the back, nervously tapping her foot as the time passed along. She was gaining an annoyed audience of people coming home from their day jobs, but she didn't care. She couldn't believe that she forgot about the most important thing. She was terrible. They closed in three minutes, and she had ten to go. She'd already gained a reputation with this place, if that was any indication of what would happen once she did arrive.

When it stopped at her destination, she basically hopped off of the subway. She paid no mind to the cursing and the shouts she'd received as she pushed past the large crowds of people down below. Getting back to the main ground level, she sprinted with all the energy she could force out of herself. By the time she got to the place, she was winded to the brink of death.

Pushing past the double doors, she took the elevator to the 12th floor. Getting inside, her heart dropped when the place was emptied out of any other arriving parent. The familiar redhead noticed her approach and Rachel immediately knew she was in for it.

She'd always tried to remain pleasant with the staff over here, despite how awful they usually were to her. Thank the stars above that she usually didn't come. But, since Santana asked her to take over for her tonight, she had no other choice.

When Rachel had to come here, she usually ran late. But, it wasn't her fault and that's what they didn't understand. Okay, well, today was. But, usually, it was because of conflicting schedules. She couldn't express how much it irritated her how little consideration these people had for her tardiness when her conditions were school or work related. Still, she always held her tongue. It sure as hell wasn't because she wanted to. But, because a certain little pair of ears didn't deserve to hear it.

"Libby," Rachel smiled pleasantly, reaching out for the sign-out clipboard.

When she handed it to her, the girl rolled her eyes. "You're late, again. Where's Maria? She actually gets here on time."

"She had last minute arrangements." Rachel simply replied while filling out the chart.

"Obviously," the girl rudely remarked with her thick Jersey accent.

Rachel squinted her eyes at the girl before shoving the clipboard into her chest. "Where is she?"

When the redhead turned, Rachel followed her gaze to find the little brunette playing in the corner with building blocks.

"She had to go in time out today," the girl informed her.

"For what?" Rachel wondered.

"She bit one of the little boys when he tried to play dolls with her," Libby told her.

Rachel chuckled out how unfortunate the situation was, to the dismay of the girl standing next to her. The two year old was becoming more like her father as time passed, no matter how hard they tried to change it. And she knew that Santana was already pissed enough. She'd have a field day with this one. As for Rachel, she could already imagine listening to the over-the-phone screaming battles. So much for studying, Rachel thought. When Libby glared at her, she bit her lip. Then, she used the alias for Santana that she'd come to perfect over time. "I'll tell Maria."

"I'd hope so, Laurel. This is the third time that she's done something like this." The girl stated in a warning tone.

She nodded her head, turning back to the toddler across the room. Once the girl caught her eyes, all blocks were dropped and she was running in their direction. Dropping to her knees, Rachel waited for the impact of the embrace.

"Laauuuuurrrr," the little girl screamed out with the loudest bit of excitement. When the girl met Rachel's embrace, she squeezed her little arms tight around her neck.

"Oh, I've missed you so much my sweet cookie!" Rachel exclaimed, lifting the little girl in her arms. She took a moment to push back her messy curls before speaking to her once more. "Are you ready to go home?"

"Ya!" the child flashed her smile, clapping her hands together.

"What do we say to Ms. Libby?" Rachel asked.

The girl faced the woman and waved to her. Libby smiled brightly and placed a soft kiss to the little girl's Kool-Aid stained cheeks. "Bye-bye, I'll see you tomorrow, Cleo."

Rachel waved to Libby before turning and exiting out the double doors. Once they arrived home, Rachel placed the toddler on the living room floor and handed her the doll she'd tripped over earlier. Turning on the TV, she put on cartoons and returned to the kitchen to cook.

The kitchen and the living room were connected, which was a good thing. It allowed Rachel to do what she needed to do while watching the little girl at the same time.

By the time things were completed, she chopped up Cleo's noodles and meatballs before serving her. They ate together at the table while Rachel made funny faces at her and assisted with not getting the food all over face and clothes.

Once they were finished, Rachel allowed Cleo a few more minutes of playtime as she cleaned up the kitchen and packed the leftovers into the fridge. She didn't forget to leave out a plate for Santana for when she got home.

She then retreated to giving Cleo a bath. The girl giggled nonstop as Rachel used the girl's Christmas present. It was some sort of bath crayons that allowed the water to change colors. Once the toddler was cleaned up and had PJ's on, Rachel turned the lights down in the living room. Sitting in the comfy recliner they'd found at a garage sell, Rachel sang to the little girl and rocked her back and forth.

The girl had passed out within twenty minutes of being there. She curled into Rachel side, showing all of the trust in the world while sucking on her finger. It was times like this when she wondered if she would've been a good mother. She usually questioned herself if this would be her, hugging her daughter right now if she hadn't left. She didn't know if they would've started so early with the kid-making, but it was always a thought on her brain, having Cleo all to herself. She liked it, no doubt. The feeling that someone depended on you and loved you more than anyone else in the world made her heart flutter.

Once her mind started, she couldn't stop it. She started to wonder how he would be with Cleo right now. Would he hold her and rock her like she was doing? Would he be doing this to their children? Did he even like children? The subject never really came up. She didn't know for sure, but from experience, he seemed like he'd be a good dad.

She smiled at Cleo while imagining herself, pregnant, watching him run around the backyard with their little girl or boy, swinging them around and smiling as laughter filled the air. Tears pooled in her eyes as the tightness in her chest returned.

Stop it, she told herself. This was what always happened when she thought of him. This was why she always tried to clear her mind when he filled it. She couldn't control her emotions, so she pushed him back; put the thought of him on the backburner for as long as she possibly could. And, this usually worked. With all the things she had to do during the day like school and work, a distraction was easily provided. It was at night, however, that she couldn't stop herself.

Luckily enough, Santana walked in through the front door not long after this. Hearing the keys being placed on the hook, Rachel heard the footsteps and turned her head. She sat on the couch aside the recliner.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were sleeping," she smiled, taking in the two.

"One of us is," she whispered before chuckling. "What time is it?"

"A little past 11," Santana informed her. Rachel wondered where the time went. "Sorry, things ran a little later than I expected."

"It's okay. I guess I better put her down," she said, moving to get up. Santana stopped her.

"No, I've got her. Go, do what you have to do."

"Thank you," she smiled, handing over a snoring Cleo. When the girl tossed, she opened her eyes for a few seconds before resting her head against Santana's shoulder and falling back asleep. When Santana returned, Rachel followed her into the kitchen.

"Mmm, smells good," Santana commented, looking for a fork. "So, I have really good news."

"What?"

"They promoted me to bartending tonight!" she announced proudly. "Rachel, do you know how much bigger our paycheck's going to be?"

"Are you serious? Oh my gosh, this is amazing! I'm so proud of you!" Rachel hugged her friend. "I think now's the time to tell you the bad news…"

Santana's face dropped. "Did something happen while I was away? Did they find us?"

"No, no, nothing that serious. It's with Cleo, actually."

"What's wrong?" the girl asked, standing up from the bar stool.

"Well, it turns out that today a little boy wanted to play dolls with her and she supposedly bit him," Rachel explained, watching Santana put her fork down and sigh into her hands.

"You're kidding, right?" Rachel shook her head. "Out of all the guys in the world, why the hell does Kacie have to be her dad? I swear she's getting more like him every day. Childish, and immature, and just plain Kacie." She huffed. "This is not happening. She's only two years old, Rachel."

"Hey," Rachel held up her hands in protest. "I didn't sleep with him, you did."

"That's low," she glared at the girl. "You know I was drunk and still upset about Brittany. I didn't think that I was going to get pregnant."

"But, you did. And as unfortunate as all of it is, you're doing a hell of a job as a mom," Rachel assured her, moving over to take her into an embrace. "And if you want, you can use the bathroom to sock it to that dick-wad over the phone. I probably won't be showering until later anyways. I've got a retake exam to study for."

She was going to be blunt. From the moment that Santana found out about Cleo, she'd been through hell and back. It was later on in the first year of being in New York that the two had met. It was a Halloween party at some club on the other side of the city. Santana took her there in hopes of lightening the mood for both of them. They'd been drooping around the apartment for months, thinking of the significant others they'd left behind.

Despite feeling like crap, Santana decided to sacrifice her night to make Rachel's a little better; which she felt guilty about to this day. They'd gotten so lost with drinking that they drifted apart and lost each other before the end of the night. Rachel remained on one of the lounging chairs, drinking away her liver while Santana stayed on the dance floor.

Her memory never really served her correctly from that night, but she did remember watching Kacie lead Santana away from the crowd. It was later revealed that Santana gave up her v-card in one of the stalls in the men's bathroom. She couldn't believe that her friend really stooped that low. She remembered being so pissed at her and going into a fit of lectures the next day.

Then, the boy showed up at their apartment. He was attractive, with features resembling Zac Efron's. She wasn't going to lie. She'd watched with complete embarrassment for the boy as he babbled on about love at first sight, and fate, and how they should be together because she was the first he'd been able to have sex with after his breakup.

They'd learned that he was four years older than the both of them. He'd recently graduated college and was taking over for his dad's multi-million dollar company in the winter. Rachel had to admit out of all the nut-jobs at that club that night, Santana did hit the jackpot. But, that didn't mean things were any easier for them. She'd remembered every detail of that next morning. It was painful to watch, which meant that it was probably twice as hard for her friend.

"Look, uhmm," Santana snapped her fingers, trying to remember his name.

"It's Kacie," he informed her.

"Kacie, right," she corrected herself. "I was just really drunk last night and if you don't mind, I just want to forget all of it and return to normal."

"But, I can't forget what happened. When you kissed me, I felt fireworks; everywhere." Rachel couldn't help the laughter that escaped her mouth. Santana moved in her direction and gripped her arm. Moving her into the kitchen, she turned to the fairly tall male. "You, stay here."

"What the hell is going on?" Rachel asked the girl once they were out of his hearing range.

"That's the guy I slept with last night."

"Yeah, I pretty much got that. But, what the hell is he doing in our living room?" Rachel exclaimed.

"Hell if I know. It was supposed to be spontaneous and fun and then we were supposed to go our separate ways." Santana cried.

"Well, apparently he didn't get the memo." Rachel replied, with a bit of laughter still in her voice.

"Well, I'm glad one of us thinks this is funny." She crossed her arms.

"Oh come on, Santana. It really is if you think about it." Her best friend started to laugh with her once she said this.

"We're terrible, you know that?" Santana reminded her. "His heart is about to be broken. Unless, you're not willing to find a way to distract yourself from Hudson for a little while, are you?"

"Now, you know that's not funny, Santana."

"Well, I don't know what to do. I don't want to break this guy's heart. He's in our house. There's no telling what he will do." Santana pointed to the guy sitting on their couch, watching something on their TV. "He might cry and you know that I'm not stable right now, Rachel." She began heaving.

"Okay," Rachel said, holding up her hands to calm her friend. "You know, I should make you deal with this as a punishment for sleeping with the first guy you saw last night. But, I'm not so you better thank me for this for the rest of your life."

"I know I messed up last night, Rachel, and I will…" she said, placing her head in her hands.

Rachel nodded before returning to the guy in the living room. When he noticed her presence, he nervously ran his hands over his jeans before standing up. He looked at her with a questioning face. "Where'd Maria go?"

"Look, buddy," she called out, moving closer to him. She knew she was being very awkward, but she'd never had to deal with the before and she didn't know what else to do. "Have a seat. We need to have a little chat."

"Okay," he said, sitting back down on the couch. He turned to her with a thoughtful expression. Before long, he spoke his mind. "I'm a lost cause, aren't I?"

"I wouldn't necessarily say it like that," she replied.

"Is it because of the way I look?" he wondered, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, I'm no Christian Grey, but I come pretty damn close. She's the one who slept with me, if we're being totally honest."

"No, you're pretty secure in that field," Rachel assured him. "You're just not her flavor of Doritos, if you know what I mean. You're kind of like a spicy nacho when she likes ranch."

"She wants ranch Doritos? I can buy her some."

"No," Rachel shook her head, trying to find a better way to deliver the blow. "What I'm trying to say is that you're not her bag of chips."

"I'll buy her any bag of chips she wants," he informed her.

"Damn it, she's gay, Kacie!" Rachel became fed up. The man looked at her with wide eyes.

"W-w-what?" he stuttered.

"She's into girls," she replied more slowly. When he placed his head in his hands, she sighed and awkwardly rubbed his back. "None of this was supposed to happen. She's just been going through a really hard time with a girl back home and last night was supposed to be her distraction. She just got a little too carried away with the liquor."

"Is this true?" he asked behind the two. Turning around, Rachel took in Santana, leaning against the entry way with crossed arms and tear-filled eyes.

"I never meant to hurt you," she whispered. "It was just a really big mistake."

Standing up, he looked directly at her. "Yeah, well, I hope you choke on it." With that, he stormed out of their apartment. Falling to the floor, Rachel rushed to Santana's side.

"Hey, don't let that get to you, Tana." She pushed the girl's hair away from her face. "He's just hurt. He'll get over it. He had to know what coming to some hook up after Halloween night's apartment at 9:00 am would result in." Rachel chuckled to try and lighten the mood.

"What did I do?" Santana begged for an answer. "Rachel, last night wasn't me. Why did I do that?"

"We were both wasted off of our asses. Anything could've went," she tried to make her feel better.

"My mom is going to be so angry with me," Santana commented.

"She won't find out," Rachel promised her. "It was a one-time thing, remember? After today, you're not going to have to see him again. It's best for us to just forget and move on with our lives. Now come on, we've got to get ready. We need to run a few errands."

If there was anything Rachel wanted to take back, it was those last words that she spoke before everything went down. There hadn't been a moment where she didn't regret being a cliché to her friend that day on the floor.

"Rachel!" Santana's voice rang through the apartment a month later. The girl had been puking all morning and was bed-ridden, following the instructions given by her. Since it was a Sunday morning, Rachel was her official caregiver.

Running to the bedroom, the girl was bolting up from the bed.

"Again?" Rachel asked in disbelief.

She held her hair back as she emptied her contents into the toilet. "Ugh, I think I need to go to the doctor, Rachel. It might be something we ate last night."

"I don't think so," Rachel answered honestly. "I'm not puking, Tana."

"What are you implying?" Santana asked, turning to her with a flushed face.

"I may have just started with my medical classes at the beginning of the year. But, these symptoms are pretty obvious, don't you think?" She raised her eyebrow.

"No," she began viciously shaking her head. "I can't be. It's not possible."

"Did you use protection?" Rachel asked.

"I don't remember," the girl exclaimed, running her hands through her hair. "This is not happening."

Standing up, she faced her. "You know what? Get back to bed. I'll go buy a test and when I get back we can know for sure and go from there, alright?"

The girl nodded, heading back to bed. There was a pharmacy down the street that she walked to. On the way there, she cried for her friend. She couldn't believe that this was reality. She didn't want to believe it if it was. They'd come so far, and here she was, standing in line with the object that would shift Santana's whole future if it came out positive. Little did she know that they were about to find out about her niece's existence.

It was hard for Santana when the two lines became present. She remembered her shutting down for some time. She told her that she wouldn't be alone, and she guessed that that made the girl feel better. But, Rachel knew what she was really scared about.

She nervously paced around the living room the next afternoon. It took some convincing out of her, but Rachel knew that Santana was doing the right thing. Holding the phone to her ear, Rachel watched and listened tentatively.

"Umm, yes, hi, is this Kacie Ross?" Santana hesitantly asked.

"This is Maria, from Halloween night," she began with shut eyes. "No, please, don't hang up! I need to talk to you. But, not right now; in person, if that's possible."

"Yeah, five sounds good. Okay, I'll meet you there."

As weird as it sounded to Rachel, Santana wanted nothing more than for Kacie to turn away and to leave her alone with the pregnancy. Then, he surprised the both of them and did the exact opposite. That's how Rachel remembered how she'd come to loathe him. For one, he'd always argue over Rachel's suggestions for the child. He'd become over-protective over her friend within the short amount of nine months. He was always in the apartment, too. She knew he was a good guy for staying and caring for Santana and their baby, but to an extent, enough was enough in her eyes.

The worse thing was that he'd pick random fights with Rachel over stupid crap. She remembered the day he tried to kick her out of their apartment like it was yesterday.

"Once the baby comes, we're going to need all of the space that we can get," he tried to reason with Santana.

"Is that a joke?" Rachel asked, placing her hands over her hips.

"I'm just trying to being reasonable. I mean, how much of your crap takes up this place anyways?" He asked. "It's going to have to go to make room for him or her."

"Kacie…" Santana sighed, trying to stop the argument before it began.

"My crap, as you call it, is going to stay exactly where it's at. I bought this place with my money and I'm not going anywhere. You don't live here, dude. And, as far as my say goes, you're never going to."

"I'm just trying to be a good dad for my kid. You have to understand that. I'm just trying to make things more convenient for Maria."

"Okay? Didn't you just become in charge of a multimillion dollar company?" Rachel asked. "Make more room at your place, because you and Maria aren't going to be living together. She's my best friend and you're not taking her from me! Just because you knocked her up does not mean that you're going to be with her. So, just give it up! She's never going to love you like that. She likes girls."

"Laurel!" Santana exclaimed. "Gosh, you guys are acting like children."

"It shouldn't be this big of a deal, Maria. If you have such a big problem, Laurel, you should just go live with your boyfriend!" the guy yelled, referring to the picture in the back of them. Finn and Rachel smiled. She recognized it as one of the many pictures she'd grabbed from her room that night. It was their prom picture.

This was the first time that Finn had been brought out into the light in a long while, and to hear the way that Kacie brought him into the argument as her "boyfriend" angered her to no return. Reaching back, she slapped the living daylight out of the man standing before her.

"Rachel," Santana called out, forgetting to use her fake name. It served no purpose. Kacie was curled in pain on the floor.

"I'm taking the bed tonight. You can sleep on the couch." She said before moving to the room and slamming the door shut behind her. Locking it, she remembered staying in there for the next 24 hours. Everything had changed from that moment between the three of them. From there, Rachel didn't exchange conversation with Cleo's father. When he'd come over, she'd lock herself in the room, when Santana was out with him she wouldn't ask questions, and Santana respected her wishes.

It wasn't until the little bundle of joy arrived at 3:30 am one morning that things began to change. Rachel didn't really think that the little girl would change much. Then, she was sitting next to Santana's bed, putting her foot in her mouth as she looked down at the newborn infant in her arms. It hadn't been an hour and she was already mesmerized to no end.

"Did y'all come up with a name?" Rachel whispered over the sleeping figure.

The two looked at Rachel with smiles on their faces.

"Yeah, we did, actually." Santana laughed. "Can I tell her?"

"Go ahead," Kacie smiled.

"Cleo," Santana told her.

"Like short for Cleopatra?" Rachel asked. This was one of the names that she'd suggested, having been harshly turned down by Kacie in the beginning.

"Yeah," she smiled. "Cleopatra Quinn Ross. I'm sorry, I had to put Quinn in there somewhere too."

"It's beautiful," Rachel smiled through her tears. "She's beautiful."

"Well, I guess she takes after her godmother."

"What?" Rachel asked. Santana smiled.

"Congrats," Rachel only chuckled, and hugged the baby tighter.

It wasn't until Santana fell asleep that she was forced to face Kacie. She handed him his daughter and went to exit the room before he stopped her. Putting the sleeping infant down, he walked over to her.

"I just want to apologize, Laurel. Maria told me everything about that guy in the picture with you. I'm really sorry for your loss." Santana must've lied to him. She took a few minutes to think of what to say.

"Yeah, me too."

"This whole fighting thing, I shouldn't have yelled at you. If we're going to do well in bringing up Cleo right, we're going to have to start getting along." He smiled.

"I'll see what I can do, Ross." Rachel smiled, punching him in his shoulder. That was the first time she'd ever somewhat liked him. Since then, their relationship had been rocky, with its ups and downs.

Now, sitting at the kitchen counter with Santana, it was almost midnight and she'd completely spaced out.

"Welcome back, friend," Santana smiled, chewing on the last meatball.

"Sorry, crowded forehead, that's all," Rachel admitted.

"So, tell me about your day." Santana begged. "What's up with this retake crap?"

Rachel dived full into everything that happened since the last time she'd seen her friend this morning. She'd told her about the failing grade, the option of the retake, and her teacher asking Rachel out on a date.

"Well, do you have a picture of him?" her friend smirked. Rachel pulled him up on her phone. "Damn, what are you waiting for?"

"Santana, he's my teacher!" Rachel exclaimed with a giggle.

"So? With an ass like that, he could be your daddy," she complimented simply.

"That's disgusting," she cringed at the girl's words.

"Well, are you going to carry it out?" she wondered.

She thought about it for a couple of moments before turning to her friend again. "I think so," she admitted for her satisfaction. She'd never told Santana that her thoughts were still corrupted. She thought it was best to keep things at bay. After that first year in New York and the fight with Kacie, he'd never been brought up again. Simply, because she knew that it wouldn't change anything.

"Was your food good?" Rachel asked, changing the subject. "I tried to change the sauce this time."

"Perfect, as usual." She smiled, hugging the girl again. "Thank you. I think I'm going to go clean up before bed. Sleep tight, Rachel."

"You too, Tana."

Rachel stayed up till 3 that morning going over the information over and over again in her head. It was 9 am when she'd arrived back to the school. On Fridays, she didn't have any classes, so she knew she could take all the time she needed on this makeup exam. This was a saving grace.

The only thing that bothered her was seeing Nick. He'd press for an answer from her and she wasn't sure if she ready to give him one.

Walking into the empty classroom, he looked up from his desk and his face instantly lit up. Slowly closing the door behind her, he got up from his desk.

"Tell me you've come to give me an answer," he smirked, moving closer to her.

"I've come to take my test again," she replied, watching his face fall with disappointment. "We can talk after, okay?"

He nodded, before handing her the two papers she needed to take the test. It took a total of two hours before she was bubbling in the final answer. Grabbing her pencil and her bag, she got up and placed the papers on his desk. Removing his glasses, he collected them and got up to talk to her again. "So, the verdict is?"

"The verdict is that I need more time. Just, give me the weekend, okay? Monday, I'll come to you with an answer. I just need more time to level things out in my head."

"It's a date, Laurel. Not a marriage proposal."

"I just need time, okay?" she reminded him. "I've got to go. I'm late for something."

"You're holding me on a tight string," he joked with her as she exited his classroom.

Hopping on the Subway, she was about ten minutes later than usual. This had become a ritual for her on Fridays. It had been since the first time she did it. After four whole years, it would probably sound terrible. To everyone else around her, Rachel had moved on remarkably. If Santana knew that the girl was out doing this, she'd be pissed. So, it became her little secret. The girl thought she was in Times Square or Central Park. That's what she usually told her. However, that was nowhere near the truth.

There was a library in New Jersey that she traveled to every Friday afternoon. It was in this library where she had access to computers.

In the beginning, Santana had warned her not to go on social media or check any emails, for they might be traced. It killed her to know that she could never find out what was going back at home, but she also had to be really careful because being caught was the last thing either of them needed; especially since Cleo arrived.

So, these computers were where she'd check things. It was mainly just social media in the beginning. She'd wander over to the profiles of the people she once knew, checking to see if things had changed majorly within in the time that had passed. Then, one day she realized that her email inbox was unusually flooding. She remembered the initial shock that she'd gained checking it.

The first email she'd gotten was three years ago. It was almost ten months after she'd left. She guessed it'd taken him this long to realize that this was the only way to reach her. He'd never sent her anything on her other accounts.

She remembered crying like a fool in front of everyone, reading the words he'd put in this first email.

Rachel,

You're gone... and I figured that this is all I have left of you. You left your phone behind, so it's not like I can call or text. I'm not even sure if you're going to read this. But, it's worth a shot, right? I just want to ask you what happened. Was it me? Did I do something to make you want to leave? Was it Shelby or James, or my dad? Was it the things I told you that night? I'm so confused. I guess I underestimated how you felt. Maybe you never wanted this in the first place? If that's the case, I want to apologize. Where are you, baby? I miss you like crazy, Rach. I'm going crazy. I see you everywhere; in my dreams, in the faces of people on the street, in the back of my mind. Are you feeling the same way? Please, if you get this, answer me.

-Finn

The next one came two days after that and it was a little more informal than emotional. That didn't mean it didn't kill her to read it. What hurt the most was that she couldn't answer.

Rachel,

Things are terrible here. It's like you started a hurricane when you left. For one, Shelby's more pissed off than I've ever seen her. She's got every police officer, including Quinn's mom, running around like dogs trying to find you. Dad's aging more by all of the stress. They've been working nonstop. I'm pretty sure they've scoped out every corner of the state and aren't giving up any time soon. So, just please, come home. I'm sure they'll understand your reasons and we can sit and talk everything out. Or, just come back for me, and we can run away together. I know it's not like me to say that. You've always been more stubborn and rebellious than me and I love you so much for it. But, I'm desperate right now. I just want to see that pretty face again. Just, come back to me.

-Finn

After this, he'd started to send the emails like clockwork. But, seeing as though he wasn't getting any answers from her, he turned it into a journal for himself. With every single entry/email, he explained his day to her and that was all she needed to feel better. So, every Friday she'd make the trip and regain her sanity for the upcoming week, reading his feelings and challenges of the day.

This continued up until last year. New Year's Eve was the last time. And, that's the one that she took the train to read every Friday since she'd first opened it. It wasn't healthy, she knew that. And she was sure that Santana and everyone else would make sure she knew that if they were to find out. But, it gave her a grip on life, and that was all she needed.

Rachel,

I never thought I'd be able to allow myself to do this. But, the time has come. Tomorrow starts a new year, without you. And, as hard as it may be to accept, I've now realized that you're not coming back and I've got to let you go. So, here's the final email you will be getting from me. I never was one for resolutions. I know that that crap doesn't last, but something's got to give. So, I'm taking my head out of the sand and here goes nothing. I've had a lot of time to think of what to write to you. You hurt me, terribly. And, I can't lie and tell you that I'm not angry, because, that's all I've harbored lately; anger. Most of it; at myself, but the other half, I've come to point at you. It hurts me and I don't know how I can do that to you after everything we've been through. Maybe it's because I'm still shocked? I don't know how long I waited these past two years for you to respond and come knocking at my door with a suitcase in each hand. Every door opening and closing, every car moving up and down the street, I jumped. And every time, my hopes were up because it was never you no matter how much I wanted it to be. But, the thing that has killed me the most was the fact that you never asked me to go with you. Or, talked to me about what you were feeling inside. I thought that this was the biggest thing in my life. I really felt it, you know? People go their whole lives, searching for that one person that they want to be with for the rest of their lives, and I thought that that's what we had. Was I wrong? Did you even love me? Did you mean anything that you promised me? Because, you just took all of that and threw it out the window. My heart is in pieces just typing all of these things right now, and hell, you probably won't even read it. But, here I am, telling you that I'm not going to be spending the next year of my life being the same fool that I've been these past two. I'm moving on, Rachel, finally; just like you probably have. Just know that this was the best you were ever going to get and I hope you have a good life. Goodbye,

-Finn

This was what she looked over this afternoon. Tracing every word with her finger, she tried to process it all. Still, after a year, she couldn't truly grasp all of the words that he'd typed. It didn't feel like a reality. She never thought her Finn could type these words after where they'd been when she left.

However, she understood. She knew it wasn't going to be easy for either of them and if he needed to take everything out over email, she definitely wouldn't stop him. It just killed her that he wasn't writing right now. She wondered after a year with no word, where he was now. Happy, she hoped.

Getting home that night, she greeted Santana and Cleo in the living room. Sitting down on the floor with them, she smiled at the mother and daughter reaction. Santana was reciting the ABC's with her daughter.

"Dinner's in the oven. It shouldn't take too much longer," Santana greeted her friend.

"Actually, I think I'm just going to go to bed." Rachel admitted. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay?" Santana replied a little confused, but hugged her friend goodnight.

"Give me a kiss, cookie," Rachel told the toddler. The little girl jumped on her godmother and gave Rachel the sloppiest kiss on her cheek. Rachel laughed before going into the bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

Just as fast as Friday night passed, Monday came along. It felt like torture waking up so early, but what was new? She'd gotten to school on time, like usual. It was when it was time for Nick's class that she had her mind made up.

When she walked in, he looked at her but quickly looked away due to the other students pooling in. The hour and a half went by like molasses. When they were dismissed, Rachel's heart started to pound. He waited until everyone fled the room before grabbing her arm and pulling her back. Sitting on the edge of his desk, he reached over and handed her a paper.

"A 97?" she asked, with a bright smile.

"I'm impressed. Keep it up," she smirked.

"My lingering decision didn't have any emphasis, did it?" she worried.

He simply shook his head. "A grade is a grade earned. I'm not one for cheating the system. But, since we're talking about decisions…Have you?"

She nodded then stepped closer to him. Grabbing his hand, she looked into his eyes. "Nick, you're a really great guy and you'd make any girl in the world lucky to have you," she began. He stopped her.

"But, I don't stand a chance?" he guessed.

She sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. You're my teacher and I can't get past that."

He smiled, nodding his head in acceptance, "I understand."

"Thank you," she simply replied.

"But, tell me something. What really made up your mind? If it was the fact that I'm your teacher, you wouldn't have taken the time to think about it as much."

"Some people go their whole lives looking for the one, right? Well, I've already met mine. I just don't have him with me right now. But, he has my heart with him and that's enough for me until we meet again; whenever that will be."

"Well, I wish you luck, Laurel." He smiled.

"You too, Mr. Mason." She winked before walking back to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

So, here it is. Finally, we've reached the time jump. I'm planning to write some more tonight and tomorrow, so, hopefully chapter 14 should follow soon. But, no promises... I hope you guys enjoy.