Chapter 5

For the third time this week, Santana leaps out of bed in the middle of the night. Once again, Rachel is sobbing hysterically. Sighing, the Latina climbs on her friend's bed with her. She's getting tired of this. Berry needs to tell her mother about her nightmares. They're always about her mom dying and they're happening more and more often.

"Same?"

"This time she fell over the railing of an escalator. Fell down to the floor below." Rachel says between sobs.

"Would it help if I told you she's alive and well?"

"I know she is."

"It would help if you talked to her."

"No."

Santana clenches her teeth. She's sure this would all be solved by a simple conversation between mother and daughter, but no. Her friend has to be ridiculously stubborn.

"Another nightmare?" Looking over at the door reveals Finn. Santana nods. "I've got her."

Happy to return to sleep, Santana relinquishes her hold on Rachel and returns to her own bed. She doesn't mind comforting the girl and she enjoys snuggling with her back to sleep, but lately it's been taking longer for her to calm down and Santana is really tired after her long shift at work. Before she falls back to sleep, she watches Finn and Rachel. Finn wraps around her like a cocoon, completely engulfing her. Rachel curls into him, her tears slowly calming. Santana falls asleep listening to Finn softly sing to his girl.

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Her body feels heavy. She'd love nothing more than to lay down and take a nap, but she doesn't want to miss another class. Especially dance class. Ms. July gives her a hard enough time as it is. Her dance class starts soon. Rachel decides to go early to talk to her instructor. The woman is talking to an upperclassman. Rachel waits patiently until the girl leaves. Ms. July turns to look at her and frowns.

"God, Schwimmer, you don't look good."

"Which is actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh? So you're here to….what, exactly? Ask for even more special treatment?"

Rachel swallows down her retort and forces herself to remain polite while still being honest. "I'm not up to dancing today, I'm too tired. I…..I need to sit out. I can't—"

"I get it." The woman sighs irritably. "You can't be pushed physically. Whatever. But someone needs to learn this dance for you."

Rachel considers that. "I may have someone."

She sits on the bench under the window and makes a phone call. As expected, Santana answers quickly.

"Berry? You good?"

"Mostly."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Santana demands.

"It means I'm too tired to attend dance class, but my instructor says someone needs to learn this dance. Do you think you can come and learn the dance, then teach it to me when I feel up to it?" The fingers of her free hand twist the hem of her shirt. She hates having to ask for help, especially when it forces someone else to take on extra responsibilities for or because of her.

Santana grumbles something in Spanish, then sighs. "Fine. I'll be there soon."

"Thank y—" The line is dead. Rachel sighs. She can't really be mad.

While the room is empty, she throws a ball and lets Yero chase it and bring it back to her. Once people start arriving, she puts the ball away and just sits quietly. A few of the more friendly students come over to talk to her and ask why she's not in a leotard. She hates having to repeat over and over that she's not feeling up to dancing. Finally, Santana arrives. She doesn't have a leotard, so she's just dressed in workout attire.

"This your friend?" Ms. July asks.

"Yes. That's Santana."

Santana frowns at Rachel when she doesn't even get up to greet her. She turns to Ms. July. "And you must be the instructor who gives her such a hard time."

"San—" Rachel tries to warn her.

Her fiery friend holds up a hand, cutting her off. She keeps her eyes on Ms. July. "You do know she's sick."

"Yes, I know. That's why I didn't laugh in her face when she told me she was too tired to dance today."

"Then you also know it's a life threatening condition. And that she was accepted here under the condition that she not overdo it. She is not allowed to push herself."

"I know." Ms. July snaps at her.

Rachel flushes as the other students watch the scene silently. She wants to tell Santana to shut up and let it go, but since her friend agreed to come and help her out, it doesn't feel right.

"But when she came to you to tell you she's not up to attending class today, which, for the record, is pretty impressive for her. This girl is stubborn as hell and never backs down. So the fact that she was upfront about not feeling well is pretty major. And your response, instead of telling her to go home and rest, was to say someone had to learn the dance for her? Seriously? I'm only here to dance because you told her someone had to learn it for her. If you hadn't demanded that, I'd be here to take her home so she can rest, like she's supposed to."

"Well, she's resting," Ms. July waves a hand in Rachel's direction "and you're here to dance. It's all settled. Can you keep up?"

"Try me." Santana challenges.

"Hm. You've got spunk. But do you have skill?" She walks away without waiting for a response.

Santana hurries over to Rachel. "So…..she's a bitch."

"San!" Rachel hisses.

"Whatever. Are you okay?"

"I'm just tired."

"No. If you were just tired, you'd be at least trying to dance and sitting out to rest as needed. This is more. So what is it?"

"I'm really tired. I feel heavy."

Santana sits beside her and takes her hand. She presses her fingers to the inside of Rachel's wrist and checks her pulse. Rachel rolls her eyes but doesn't pull away. Or look at her classmates who keep glancing at them while getting into position for the dance.

"Yo, friend of Schwimmer who says she can dance, you doing this or what?"

Santana glowers. "Stay seated and drink water. If you start feeling worse, let me know immediately."

"Fine. Go."

As Rachel expected, Santana does an excellent job. She may not be as good a dancer as Brittany, but she's as good as Rachel, if not better. Despite not being happy with this scenario, she enjoys watching her friend dance. Santana does enjoy it from time to time. When class ends, Ms. July looks Santana up and down.

"Not bad." She turns to look at Rachel. "Maybe your friend is more deserving of being here than you are."

Used to comments like this, Rachel doesn't respond. Santana, however, gets angry.

"Look, bitch, I don't know what your problem is with Rachel but you need to cool it. I know she can be annoying and loud and arrogant and a little self centered at times and while her clothing is fine when her brother chooses it, it still leaves a lot to be desired. But, she's hard working, honest, insanely talented, ambitious, determined, brave, kind, smart, considerate, and beautiful. She also happens to be fighting a life threatening illness and isn't letting that stop her from achieving her dreams. She could absolutely take advantage of being sick to use sick kid perks and stay home and relax and do nothing all the time. She could expect things to just be handed to her and demand her way and you know what? She'd probably get it. But she doesn't. She keeps fighting; for her life and for her dreams. She wants to be treated normal, like everyone else, and doesn't try to demand things or push for her way. She still thinks of others and does her best to make them happy. She wants to achieve her dream of being on Broadway, but she wants to help everyone else she loves achieve their dreams, too. She's a hell of a lot nicer to be around than you are. I may be a good dancer and singer, but I don't want this. I don't want to be on Broadway. This isn't my dream; it's hers. And I'm here helping out because she has helped me a lot, too. You see, good, loyal people inspire others to be good and loyal, too. I'm here for her, because she's here for me."

Rachel swallows back a lump in her throat. "Santana—"

"I know, I'm sorry. I go to the yelling place. I've got anger." She walks closer, her body language saying that she expects to be yelled at.

"Well…..yeah. But I was going to say thank you."

Santana looks at her and softens. "You're welcome."

"As beautiful as this moment is, go home. And don't let your friend come back, Schwimmer."

Rachel smirks tiredly. Santana finishes drinking her water. "You ready to go?"

"Slowly." She admits.

Santana pauses, frowning at her. "Rach?"

"Tired, remember?"

"Shit." Santana angrily shoves her water bottle back into her bag and zips it shut. "I should have told that bitch to shove it right from the start and just taken you home."

"I wouldn't have been able to walk off campus. Now that I've sat a while I can, but…..slowly."

Santana grabs hold of Rachel's arm and helps her stand. Immediately, the shorter girl sways. Santana quickly changes her hold, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her tight against her side.

"Shit, Berry. You gonna pass out?"

Rachel takes a breath in through her nose and slowly releases it. "No."

"Would you like a hand?" Devon is standing a few feet away, watching them with a furrowed brow.

"If you wouldn't mind following to make sure she doesn't pass out, that'd be great."

"Sure. I can carry her if that'd be easier."

"I can walk. But thanks."

Santana and Devon share a look. "Fine. But if you sway again or your legs buckle, he's carrying you. Got it?"

"Got it."

They start their slow walk out of the room. Without a word, Lydia steps up beside Rachel and loops her arm around hers. Rachel smiles at her gratefully. She hates this. Not only does she hate being this tired, but she hates how ridiculous she must look needing two people to help her walk and a service dog following along behind her. What if people start saying she shouldn't be here again? What if the school board decides she's not well enough to remain here? Rachel swallows back her fears and focuses on remaining upright while walking. They're near the entrance to the campus when Brody jogs over. In his normal charming way, he sends Devon and Lydia away.

"No offense Dev, but I think this calls for a guy with bigger muscles." Brody grins.

"You sure? It might call for someone who is actually tall." Devon teases.

"My right pec is bigger than both of yours combined."

"Boys." Lydia smirks. "Always arguing about size."

The girls giggle. Devon shrugs and takes his leave with a friendly wave.

"I've got it from here, Lydia."

"If you insist. See you later, Rachel."

"Bye."

Brody tugs Rachel out of Santana's arms and holds her up while walking. Santana had to take Rachel's bag from Lydia when she left, so this works out well for all. Rachel is surprised when they don't head to the bus stop.

"Where are we going?"

"I scheduled an Uber to come get us after class ended. I didn't like the idea of making you walk down the street if you weren't up for it." Santana admits. "They'll drop us off right in front of our home. Less walking."

"Thanks."

"You want me to come with?" Brody asks quietly as he opens the door to the car for them.

"We really will only be a few steps from the front door. We'll be fine, but thanks."

He nods and backs off. On the ride home a mild attack strikes. Considering how exhausted she feels, Rachel struggles through it more than usual. Tears prick her eyes and she gasps and takes harsh breaths, clenching her friend's hand. She can tell Santana is upset and tense. She feels bad, but frankly there's nothing she can do about it except what she already intends to do; rest. The steps up to the front door are tough, but with Santana helping her and going slow, she manages it without falling. The moment she lays down on the couch, she's asleep.

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Something smells good. Her nose twitches. Relieved to realize she actually feels hungry, Rachel opens her eyes. She hears the soft murmur of conversation in the kitchen and music from upstairs. The only other person in the living room is Finn.

"Hey."

He looks up from his homework and smiles. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

Rachel pushes herself up and runs her hands through her hair, taking stock of how she feels. "Better."

"Still tired?"

"A little, but a normal tired. Not the exhaustion from before."

"Good." He taps his pen on his leg. "Why were you so tired?"

For a moment she just stares at him, thinking it should be fairly obvious. Realizing he's looking for a different answer, she takes a moment to consider another reason. "I didn't get as much sleep last night because of the nightmare."

"Actually, your sleep has been interrupted a lot by nightmares. Obviously, it's having an effect on your physical health as well as your mental health. You should talk to your mom."

"I will."

"And tell her about the nightmares."

Damn. He knows her too well. "It'd just worry her unnecessarily."

"Rach, I'm getting worried. We all are."

She swore to herself this second diagnosis that she'd put less stress on her loved ones. She feels like she's been failing at that. This is a minor thing she can handle on her own without worrying her mom. But she doesn't want to worry her friends, either.

"How about…I tell her if it happens again?"

Finn stares at her. "You'll talk to her today, right? Before going to bed?"

"Of course. I talk to her every day."

He presses his lips together while thinking hard. "Fine. But you have to swear you'll tell her if you have another nightmare. And I mean right away."

"Fine. I swear."

The group has dinner together, chats about their days, and ends up playing a board game. It's a fun but tame night. Rachel goes to bed before the others, but thanks to her long nap earlier, she didn't have to go too early. Once she's comfy in bed, she calls her mom. They talk for a while and, as always, Rachel feels better after. Positive she'll have a calm, restful night, she snuggles down under her comforter.

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This time, the whole house is awoken by her screaming. Rachel sobs hysterically into her pillow, rambling incoherently about not wanting to lose her mom. Kurt and Finn both crawl on the bed with her and comfort her while the rest of them stand around watching uncomfortably.

"Screw this." Santana mumbles. She grabs her phone and makes a long overdue call.

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The phone ringing at one in the morning is never a good sign. Shelby's heart is slamming into her ribcage as she scrambles to answer it. Please no please no please no ple—

"He—what's wrong?" She can hear her daughter crying in the background. Beside her, Scott sits up and takes her hand.

"Rachel's okay. Physically, at least. It's emotionally that's the problem." Santana explains quickly.

That allows her to breathe. "What's going on?"

"Nightmares. She's been getting a lot of them. All about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Almost every night since your car accident she's been having nightmares about you dying. All different ways. She wakes up crying. But they've been happening more and more often and they seem to be getting worse. Usually she just cries herself back to sleep. Last night she was sobbing. Tonight she woke up screaming, then started sobbing."

Shelby releases a breath and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Pass the phone to her."

"Mom?"

The shaken voice full of tears makes her throat tighten. "Hi, baby girl."

Rachel starts crying harder. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"What are you sorry about, honey?"

"I knew if you got a call in the middle of the night it'd scare you. It was just a nightmare."

"It doesn't matter. I don't care about that, Rach. If you're upset, even from a nightmare, I want to know."

"I'm sorry."

"Honey, I need you to stop apologizing and take some deep breaths, okay? Can you calm down for me?"

Scott slides away from her and grabs his tablet off his nightstand. Other than giving him a quick glance, Shelby ignores him and focuses on calming her daughter.

"Okay."

Shelby leads her through some deep breaths until she's calmer. "Now. Tell me about your nightmares."

"Um….you die. In all of them. But in all different ways. Car crash, cancer, falling from up high, drowning…every night it's a different way. But the worst ones are the car crashes and the cancer, because those really happened."

The mother can tell her child is starting to get worked up and upset again. "I'm so sorry, baby girl. But I'm fine. I'm alive and well, I swear. You're talking to me, right?"

"Yeah."

"We talk every day. You know I'm fine."

"I know."

Her voice sounds so small and childish that it tugs at Shelby's heart. "I'm so sorry that my car accident scared you so much. It really was very minor. I only had a few bruises. And the cancer was a really, really long time ago. I've been cancer free for the vast majority of your life. I go to the doctor regularly and I always get a clean bill of health."

"I know that, but when I'm sleeping….."

"I know. Nightmares don't always make sense, do they?"

"Mom? I think…..I think part of why the nightmares are so bad is because….because I miss you."

"I miss you too, baby girl. So much." So much that she herself has had several nightmares or at least rough nights of sleep. Something occurs to her. "Rachel, do you think there's any other reason you may be having nightmares?"

There's silence on the other line. Shelby swears in her head she can see Rachel biting her lip and twisting the hem of her pajama top, debating what to say. Meaning there is another reason.

"Tell me, honey." She encourages.

"I think….I mean, it's mostly because of your car accident and I miss you. That's really it."

No. It's not. Clearly, there's another fear fueling these nightmares but she's not willing to discuss it over the phone. Luckily, Shelby will be there in person in just under a week. Perhaps she'll go sooner, like this weekend.

"Okay, if you're sure." She pauses. Even though she's positive Rachel will not be expounding on her nightmares anymore, she wants to give her one final opportunity in this moment. When her daughter remains silent, she goes on. "You have your doctor's appointment next week. I'll be there for that and we can talk about this more then, okay?"

"Okay. I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too. And Rachel, I really mean this, I fully expect you to call me if you have another nightmare. I don't care what time it is. Call me. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

But will she actually follow through? "Good. Now, get yourself a glass of warm milk, listen to some music, and go back to sleep. And if you need to take tomorrow off to sleep, please do that. You were struggling with fatigue yesterday and I don't want you to push it."

"Okay. Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight, Rachel. Hand the phone back to Santana, please."

"Hi Mrs. M."

"Hi, Santana. Thank you for calling me, honey. If she has another nightmare and doesn't call me, please call me yourself."

"Sure thing."

"Thank you. Goodnight, Santana."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Matthews."

Shelby sets her phone down and buries her face in her hands. Next week can't come soon enough. She needs to hold her baby girl; for both of their sakes. The light on Scott's nightstand clicks on, giving off a soft glow. The mother stands and paces while filling in her husband.

"She had a nightmare. Apparently she's been getting nightmares for a while about me dying. She thinks it's because she misses me so much, but I think there's more to it than she's letting on. I need to be there in person to get the full truth out of her." Her mind races. "I don't think I can wait until next week to see her."

She turns to Scott, who is watching her silently, a knowing look on his face. "Definitely."

Shelby nods. "Okay, so I'm thinking I can go on Friday instead of waiting until next Tuesday. Then I'll be there in just a few days and I can spend the weekend with her before her appointment next week."

Scott's expression changes slightly and he shakes his head. He pulls her down onto the bed beside him and hands her his tablet. Confused, she takes it. On the screen is a website showing a plane ticket purchased for early this morning from Ohio to New York.

"What—"

"You should go. Now."

"I….I mean, I want to, obviously. But I have work, she has classes, and….if I go on Friday….." she trails off, thinking it over. Her heart is screaming at her to take his offer and go now. Her brain is trying to compel her to be patient.

Scott looks at her. "Are you actually going to be able to go back to sleep tonight?"

"No. Probably not."

"Exactly. You're not going to sleep anyway. You just found out that Rachel has been having nightmares of you dying various ways. You've been having nightmares of never seeing Rachel again for various reasons. Clearly, you two need to reconnect. You two need each other."

"You're not coming with me?"

Scott grins and responds teasingly. "Well one of us has to stay here and make a living." She swats at his chest. "Seriously, this is about you two. I'd love to see Rachel. And if you really want me to come with you, I will. Happily. But I think all you really need is to spend time with your daughter. And clearly she needs time with you. I'll drive you to the airport."

Shelby leans forward and kisses him. "I love you. You're amazing."

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The taxi drops her off in front of the townhouse. Shelby grabs her suitcase and walks up the stairs. After her plane landed, she'd sent a text to Kurt, letting him know she was coming and to undo all of the locks on the front door except the one the key will open from the outside. She unlocks the door and steps inside. The kids are already awake and getting ready for their day. She locks the door behind her and listens to the sounds that are clearly normal morning sounds for this house. Talking, grumbling, someone banging on the bathroom door to yell at whoever is hogging the bathroom, and the clatter of people eating breakfast. A glance in the living room shows it to be empty, so she heads into the kitchen. She didn't actually expect to find Rachel already awake and downstairs, so she isn't surprised she's not here. Kurt drops his spoon and leaps up.

"Aunt Shelby!" The boy hurries over to hug her tight. Shelby laughs and hugs him back. "I'm glad you're here. Rachel has really been missing you. And these nightmares—"

"I know. It's why I'm here earlier than planned." She hugs the others who are in the kitchen. "Is she still asleep?"

"Yeah."

Wanting to see her daughter anyway, she heads upstairs. Noah and Sam are arguing over who gets to use the bathroom first. The boys pause their bickering to stare at her in surprise. She smiles and hugs them both before heading into Santana and Rachel's room. They are both still asleep. Shelby smiles softly and steps over to her kid. She perches on the edge of her bed and lightly strokes her cheek. Seeing her not react at all, she knows Rachel won't be waking up just yet. Shelby kisses her forehead and moves to Santana's bed. She kisses her cheek before leaving the room. She chats casually with the kids who are awake while drinking a cup of coffee and nibbling on a piece of coffee cake the kids had out. While she has talked to each of them on the phone several times and heard that they're all happy living together, it's nice to see for herself that it's really true. The parents had all planned to make unannounced visits, but things kept popping up and delaying the start of it. Besides, they figured the kids wouldn't be likely to start breaking the rules until they've been here a few months. And the kids will be home for Thanksgiving, then again for winter break. Those pop up visits will probably begin in January.

Yero trots down the stairs ahead of Rachel and does a goofy double take when he sees Shelby. Those present laugh at the dog's reaction. Yero's tail starts wagging and he runs over to Shelby, jumping up so his front paws are on her lap so he can lick her face and be pet by her. She scratches behind his ears, rubs his back and coos at him.

"You're a good boy, yes you are! I've missed you, too! I didn't think I would, but I do! Who's a good boy?"

Most of the others have left already to classes (and Kurt to work). Noah doesn't have to go in until later, so it's him, Santana, and Rachel still here. Eventually, she hears Rachel and Santana fussing over how much hot water is left for showering and who gets to go first. Santana wins the argument by complaining about Rachel waking her up and ruining her precious beauty sleep. Shelby bites back a laugh at Rachel's retort of Santana clearly needing all the sleep she can get. The girls jokingly insult one another until Santana starts the shower and Rachel heads downstairs to eat breakfast. She walks down the hall rubbing her eyes tiredly and yawning. When she catches sight of Shelby sitting at the kitchen table smiling at her, she stumbles to a halt.

"Mom?"

"Hi, honey." She stands, eager to hug her daughter.

Rachel's face positively lights up and she runs into Shelby for a hug. Having her kid in her arms again causes tears to fill her eyes, but she's able to blink them away. Mother and daughter hug for a long time. Kurt and the others told her about how much she's been throwing up and all the times she slept through dinner, but feeling how thin her kid is makes her stomach flip in worry. Especially when she thinks about the fatigue Rachel has been dealing with. When Shelby starts feeling her shirt become damp, she pulls back to dry her daughter's tears.

"You came?"

"I came. I needed to hug you and I think you needed a hug."

"Very much so." To emphasize this, Rachel hugs her again.

Shelby leads her to the couch so they can sit and cuddle while talking. Rachel curls into her side and rests her head on her shoulder. It's such a familiar position that it instantly brings them both comfort. It's been too long since they've been able to sit together like this.

"You were coming in like a week."

"True. But Scott pointed out that there was no reason to wait until then."

"Except work."

"You matter more." She'll neglect to mention she'd had the same thought and it was only Scott's urging that got her here. It's what she wanted, after all. She'd just hesitated. Her husband pushed her past her hesitation and into action. "I needed to make sure you're okay and can sleep well, without nightmares. We talk on the phone every day, so I didn't really think talking to you last night was going to be enough to stop the nightmares." She'd come to this realization on the drive to the airport.

"Thanks for coming, Mom."

"Always. I said I would, didn't I?"

"You said you'd come if I asked. I didn't ask. I wanted to, but since you were coming next week, I didn't let myself ask."

"Well that was silly. From now on, if you want me to come visit, just ask."

"Okay." Rachel's smile is bright. "How long are you staying?"

"I'm going to call Dr. McCann today and ask if he has any openings this week instead of next week. As much as I'd love to stay for a week, I really can't miss that much work. If we can get an earlier appointment, I'll stay until then. If we can't get in sooner, I'll go home tomorrow and come back next week."

"So you're staying tonight? Definitely?"

"Yes. I'm hoping that if I'm here, you'll either not get a nightmare or I'll be able to help soothe you afterwards."

"You're the best mom ever."

"You really need to thank Santana. She's the one who called. I'm a little upset that you didn't call me yourself, or tell me about your nightmares."

"I said I knew you'd be scared if I called in the middle of the night."

"And I said I didn't care. Besides, that explains why you didn't call me right after your nightmares, but it doesn't explain why you didn't tell me about them at all. We talk every day and you didn't bother mentioning them. You left out something pretty major that's impacting you negatively."

Rachel sighs. "They were just nightmares. I kept thinking they'd stop as suddenly as they started."

"And when they didn't?"

"They're just nightmares."

"Nightmares that are affecting your sleep. Sleep you desperately need. I think these nightmares are what's causing you to be more tired than usual lately. You're not getting enough rest."

"I thought I could handle them. And it's not like I was dealing with them alone. My friends were helping calm me down afterwards."

"I'm very happy to hear that. But I'd have rather heard about them from you and comfort you myself. So if these nightmares continue after I leave, I want to know. Immediately. Call me as soon as you wake up."

"Okay."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Good girl." She decides to ignore the eye roll. "Now, are you feeling up to going to class?"

"Yes. I don't have dance class today."

Meaning she's still tired. Instead of commenting on it, the mother urges her to get moving. If she says she's up for her other classes, she'll trust that. "Then I guess you'd better go get ready."

She kisses her temple and sends her off to prepare for her day.

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Rachel heads to class in high spirits. Her mom is here. She got to hug her. She'll get to spend more time with her after class. Her mom will be there to comfort her if she has a nightmare. It calms her. So even though she is still pretty tired, she feels better than she has in days.

"Hey! I honestly didn't expect to see you today."

She looks over at Brody and smiles. "Hi. I'm feeling better. I'm still tired, but not how I was yesterday. And if I end up getting more tired, I'll go home early."

"If you're sure." He looks at her carefully. "You seem…..chipper." Then his face brightens in excitement. "Did you happen to get some good news?"

Realizing what he's thinking, she feels bad. "Uh, no. Sorry. Nothing like that. My appointment isn't until next week."

His face falls but he's careful to not let it be too obvious. "Oh. So why are you so happy today?"

"My mom arrived early this morning to surprise me."

He blinks. "That's nice. Why, though?"

"Um…..she found out I've been having nightmares. Santana tattled on me. So my mom came to check on me in person. She's also going to try to move up my appointment so it's this week. I'm pretty sure she wants to talk to Dr. McCann about how tired I've been lately."

He nods. "It's nice that your mom was willing to come all this way to check on you, but I guess I can understand it."

They switch to talking about other things while walking to class. Brody has an audition for a chorus member on Broadway coming up and he's nervous but excited. By now, Rachel has seen Brody sing and dance and knows he's very talented. She happily reassures him that he shouldn't be nervous and praises all the things she's seen herself that he excels at, making him beam with pride. In her class, Alicia immediately picks up on her cheerful mood.

"Did you get good news?" Everyone thinks the same thing. It's sweet but also a little sad that everyone's first thought is that she got good news about her health.

"No. My mom came to New York to surprise me. I haven't seen her in two months and I've missed her." She's not ashamed to admit this. "I'm not used to being away from her for so long."

Meghan scoffs. "We're all away from our parents."

"Don't you visit your parents every other weekend?" Shante asks with a raised eyebrow. The others chuckle while Meghan glowers.

"To be fair, I've only known my mom for a couple years." Rachel says.

Everyone looks over at her in confused shock. "What?"

Rachel shrugs. "The short version is she was hired as a surrogate for a gay couple who wanted a baby. She changed her mind and decided not to give me up, but it was too late. She'd already signed a binding contract. She spent over a decade fighting to get custody of me. She only got it a couple years ago after I got sick and my dad decided he couldn't handle it." It's sort of true and easier to explain than the full truth.

"Wow." Alicia is wide eyed.

"So I've known her for just about three years. We have a close relationship. Like, we were close right away. The longest I've been away from her is a week. Now it's been two months. And considering I'm still sick, she hates that I'm so far away. I have a doctor's appointment soon and she wants to be here for that. So she came early."

The others nod in understanding.

"She sounds like a great mom." Alicia says softly.

Rachel smiles widely. "She's the best."

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It was a challenge, but she made it through all of her classes for the day. Now, she is dragging her feet while walking across campus to meet whoever is picking her up. Realizing it will probably be her mom, she tries to pick up her pace. A wave of dizziness hits and she halts. Yero stops moving, too. He looks up at her, waiting to see what she needs. When she feels like she can move without falling, she slowly makes her way over to the nearest bench. Yero jumps up and sits beside her so she can hold onto him. She gets a text from Kurt, saying he and her mom are at the entrance and asking where she is. She gives her location. A few moments later, they're walking up to her and looking worried.

"Honey?"

"I got dizzy. It passed, but I decided to stay sitting for a few more minutes."

"Smart. Are you ready to walk, now?"

"Yeah."

"We'll go as slow as you need."

Her mom helps her stand and the three walk slowly off campus. Apparently they'd planned to walk back since it's a beautiful fall day. Now, though, they wait at the bus stop. Rachel listens to her mom and brother talk happily on the ride home. Kurt updates her mom on the little fun things they do outside of school and work; the karaoke bar, walking around parks, sightseeing, bowling, and so on. On the weekends, the group of friends tend to explore the city and discover what's around them. Her mom is happy that they all go in groups; it's safer that way. She's also clearly happy to hear that Rachel is upfront when she needs to take a break or doesn't feel up to going out. While Rachel has already told her mom most of this, she's happy to listen to Kurt reiterate all of it. They get home and Kurt heads to his room to talk to Blaine. Sam is in his room playing video games, but the rest are still out doing their own things. Rachel isn't surprised when her mom insists they talk more. She tries to delay it a little by asking about her appointment.

"Were you able to get a sooner appointment?" She asks.

"Yes. Your appointment is on Friday. I'll leave this weekend."

Rachel is quite pleased with that. More time with her mom. "Good! We get a little longer together."

"I'd like to talk a little more about your nightmares."

Rachel's stomach sinks but she knows better than to argue or refuse. "What about them? I told you what they're about."

"You did. And you said you think part of the reason behind them is because you miss me."

"Right."

"But I think there's another reason, too."

Damn her and her big mouth when she was vulnerable last night! If she'd been in her right mind, she'd never have hinted at anything else! "Oh?"

"Don't push it away. Talk to me. What else might be causing your nightmares?"

Rachel twists the hem of her shirt and refuses to look up at her mother. The woman waits patiently. "I…..I think…it's the opposite."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not, like, big or anything. It was just a little thought that occurred to me one night."

When she doesn't elaborate, her mom takes her hand. "And what thought was that?"

"That….that I'm afraid I'm going to die. And how that'd make you feel. So then I dream of you dying and how I'd feel."

Rachel is pulled into a tight embrace. Her mother holds her close, in silence, for several long moments. She can tell the woman is working on controlling her own emotions before speaking, so she stays silent and gives her all the time she needs. When her mom kisses her temple and loosens her hold, she looks up. The look in her mom's eyes is so heavy, as though weighed down by something huge that it's nearly crushing her, that it causes her eyes to burn. Rachel blinks rapidly.

"You are not going to die." Rachel decides not to point out that she can't promise that. Seriously, how many times has she come close to dying? Too many. "You are stage one. You're getting better. I'm worried about how tired you are and how thin you are, but those are also common symptoms of aplastic anemia. We'll talk to Dr. McCann about them. You are going to go into remission soon." Then she releases a long breath. "Now, if something unbelievably terrible should happen, I do not want you to worry about me or how I'd handle it."

"Okay." What else can she say?

"Rachel, this isn't the first time I've heard you express worries over how I'd handle losing you. It concerns me that you're worrying about it."

She hadn't planned to say more on this topic, she really hadn't. But if her mom is pushing, she should come clean about her thought process. Hopefully it'll ease some of her mom's worries.

"Mom…..I know I'm stage one and getting better. I know I'll be in remission soon. But…..the fact is, I could die. This is my second diagnosis. The odds of me surviving are lower this time around. That's a big part of why I fought so hard to be here. I want to be working towards my dream. I want to experience…..everything. I don't want to miss out. I'm trying to see it as…..not a good thing, but…..but something that's pushing me to really live now. I don't push myself when I don't physically feel up to it, but when I do, I go out into the city with friends and have fun. I hang out here and have fun. I go to class. I'm…..living. As best I can. And I'll never stop fighting. I also never want to stop living. It's a good thing! It motivates me and lets me enjoy things more. The only downside is it does make me think of that possible outcome. Dying. And what it'd mean for the people who love me. Especially you, Kurt, and Finn. I know it'd be hard and I hate that. I hate that I can't do anything about it except what I already intend to do, which is fight to survive."

Her mom stares at her for a while, taking in everything she said. "It helps you? Thinking that way?"

Rachel shrugs. "Yeah. I'm not, like, acting like I expect to die. I expect to go into remission and live, then get the cure and live without the fear of it returning again. I really, really do expect that. But I also have to accept that it might not happen. It's helping me balance both sides by fully expecting to live a long life, but experiencing things now just in case I don't get to later."

"Balance."

"Exactly."

"It sounds pretty good, but I don't know how I feel about you preparing yourself for something that won't happen. Something horrible."

"Isn't that exactly why I should prepare myself for it?"

Her mom huffs. "I don't know if you're brilliant or crazy. But if it is truly helping you, fine. I want to see if Renee can do a Skype appointment with you to discuss this. And you're sure that the only negative thing about thinking that way is your worry about us and how we'd handle it if you died?"

"Yes. I'm going to get better and finally get to live without fear. I'm going to graduate NYADA, marry Finn, star on Broadway, and live happily ever after. It'll suck if I don't, but at least I will know I experienced everything I could beforehand. And you guys will know that too. So thinking that way just makes me worry about how you guys would handle it. The thought of losing you has me terrified and bawling my eyes out and those are just nightmares. For you guys, it's a more realistic possibility that you have to live with every day. I hate that. And it worries me."

"Well stop worrying about us. Focus on getting better."

"And enjoying life?" Rachel asks tentatively, curious if her mom fully supports her way of thinking.

Her mom hesitates, but then smiles slightly. "Yes. And enjoying life."

"Which is easier to do being in stage one. I'm tired a lot and throw up a lot after treatments, but otherwise I feel like I'm doing better. I feel good enough to go to class almost every day, explore the city, and hang out with friends. And when I don't, I stay home and rest."

Thankfully, her mom's smile becomes more real. "Good. I just need to check that I understand everything you said. You think that your nightmares were fueled by my car accident and missing me, combined with your fear of losing me, which made you think of my fear of losing you, which due to your illness is a slight possibility."

"Yes." She won't comment on the 'slight' part. She's stage one, after all. At this point, it is only a slight possibility.

"But you expect to get better while also doing everything you can to experience life now, just in case you don't get to."

"Yup."

"And you worry about how we'd handle it if you died because the thought of losing me upsets you so much."

"Basically."

Her mom takes in a deep breath, holds it, then releases it. "Okay. You are going to get better. But I support your plan of experiencing things now. Legal, safe things, within reason." Rachel chuckles and nods. "Okay. We are going to have to talk again about you worrying about us. But let's table that discussion until a later date."

"Sounds good."

"Do you think you'll still have nightmares?" Her mom eyes her curiously.

"I don't know. I feel better now that I've gotten to hug you and talk it over with you, so hopefully not."

"Well, I'll be here for a few more nights if you do."

"That's a rel—"

Pounding feet hurtling down the stairs interrupts them. Kurt barrels into the room with a huge, excited grin. "Blaine's coming next Friday! Next Friday!"

Rachel smiles brightly him. "That's wonderful! I know how much you've missed each other."

She really does. Obviously, living with Kurt means she talks to him a lot and he talks a lot about missing his boyfriend. And Blaine is one of her best friends. She talks to him frequently and has comforted him over missing Kurt. She misses seeing her friend, too, and is looking forward to getting to see him in person.

"Why next week? I thought he was coming in two weeks."

"He was, but he misses me too much." Kurt positively beams. "So he's coming sooner. He was going to come this weekend, but he completely forgot that they have sectionals."

"Do they finally have enough members to perform?" Her mom asks them.

"They do, yes."

"That's wonderful! Both that Blaine is coming sooner and that New Directions is able to perform again."

"Not that they'll win nationals again without us." Kurt says with confidence.

Rachel and her mom burst out laughing.

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Once they learned that sectionals was that Saturday, the New York based friends discussed whether or not to go and support them. As much as they'd like to, they acknowledged it's a bit of a long, expensive trip just for sectionals. Especially since they're really only friends with four of the current members. They agree to do their best to go at regionals.

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When Rachel starts tossing and turning, Shelby jolts awake. Seeing the distress on her face, she gently shakes Rachel's shoulder.

"Hon? Rach, wake up. You're okay."

Rachel gasps, her eyes shooting open. Her eyes are already filling with tears. Shelby gently wipes them away as they spill over.

"Mom?"

"I'm here. Everything's okay."

Rachel breathes out a long breath and curls into her.

"Was it another nightmare?"

"Yeah. But it wasn't as bad as the others."

"Good. Think you can go back to sleep?"

Rachel nods, her eyes already closing. Shelby rubs her back and hums softly. As her daughter drifts back to sleep, she thinks about their conversation earlier. Yet again, her child is worried about her. Shelby isn't sure how to get her to stop, or if it's even possible. All Rachel needs to focus on is getting better.

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Dr. McCann nods as her mother wraps up her concerns. "I understand. For the nausea, I'd suggest a couple things. First, take a strong nausea medication right at the start of your treatment. Or, at least the moment you start feeling nauseous. You can also take the more mild nausea meds whenever you need to. Preemptively. If you're not hungry and don't feel up to a protein shake, have something else. Broth. Saltines and ginger ale. At the very least stay hydrated. And eat when you don't feel nauseous. We do need to get your weight up."

"Okay."

"For the fatigue….." He looks at her sympathetically. "Rest. That's really all there is to it. You can't have too much caffeine because of your medications, but you can have half a cup of coffee or something. Try to limit your caffeine intake. All you can really do is sleep. Rest. As much as you need to. I know you don't like this, but do we need to discuss cutting back on classes?"

Rachel's stomach swoops. "No."

"Rachel—"

"Seriously! I don't go to class if I'm not up for it. I sit out of dance whenever I need to. I sat out the whole class once this week! I can just keep doing that."

Dr. McCann hesitates, but then nods. "Alright. I'm going to send an email to the dean of your school, just reiterating that you need to take it easy."

"But—"

"Don't argue or I'll pull you out completely." Her mom threatens.

Knowing she's defeated, Rachel slumps. "Fine."

"Now. We do need to discuss your test results, Rachel. Looking over your last several blood draws, I see an odd trend."

"Odd how?"

"Up and down. Up and down. You technically dropped to stage two in September, then went back up to stage one, but now you're back at stage two. However, you're right at the cusp."

"So I'm like walking the line between stages one and two?"

"Exactly. Any change in numbers pushes you into the other stage, so you go back and forth."

Her mom clears her throat. "Where is she at the moment?"

"Stage two. And I do need to report that not only to Dr. Reed, but to this…uh, Madame Tibideaux. However, I'll also include that you keep fluctuating between the two stages."

"Great." She mumbles.

"Could this also be why she's been more tired lately? And losing weight?"

"The change in stages is so minor, considering her numbers are right at the cusp, that the stage alone isn't going to have that big an impact on her symptoms. She's sick. Stage one or two, just a few numbers apart, isn't changing that. Now if she goes up to the top of stage one or drops further into stage two, yes, we'll probably see a more drastic change in symptoms. But right now? No. She's sick. Exhaustion, even to the point of fatigue, and nausea and lack of appetite, are all normal for someone with aplastic anemia."

Rachel looks between her mother and the doctor. "So I don't need to change anything or drop out of school."

"As long as you keep resting when you need to and feel like you can keep up, no. But if that changes, you need to tell us."

"I will." Seeing the way the adults are looking at her, she rolls her eyes and huffs. "I mean it!"

"Nothing needs to change? You're sure?" Her mom asks anxiously.

Rachel knows what's going on. While her mom wants to let her stay and work towards her dreams and live her life, she also wants Rachel to come home until she's better. And if it can be a doctor insisting upon it, all the better. Dr. McCann seems to realize this too from the way he smiles sympathetically at her mom.

"Nothing needs to change at this time."

Her mom's expression is a contradiction of relief and disappointment.

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She knows what's coming. She can read it in her mom's silence on the ride home. And the way her mom wrings her hands while lost in thought. As soon as they're home, Rachel decides to head it off preemptively. She drags her mom up to her room.

"I don't need to leave New York."

Her mom sits on the bed. "Are you sure? You're stage two. It's perfectly understandable if you need to—"

"But I don't!"

"You're losing weight. You're tired a lot. The side effects from your treatments seem to be hitting you hard. You were already tired from dance class. I don't want to risk you overdoing it."

"I'm not. I won't. I've been really good about resting as much as I need to!"

"I know, honey, I just…"

"You want me home."

"I do, but more than that I want you healthy. I want what's best for you. And if that means coming home so you can rest more, then that's what'll have to happen."

Rachel wants to scream. While she understands her mom's point of view, she feels like her mom didn't fully hear her when explained the way she's looking at life now.

"Mom, I swear to you, I want to get better. I'll do anything I have to in order to get better. But Dr. McCann himself said nothing needs to change as long as I keep resting frequently, which I will. I do not need to go home. I don't want to go home."

"You worry about how I'd handle it if you died. But I worry about you now. And I think I'd worry less if you were home and I could be sure that you're resting and being taken care of."

Stung, Rachel turns away. She blinks quickly to clear away her suddenly blurry vision. Again, she understands it. However, she feels like that was a low blow. Her mom took one of her fears and used it against her in an attempt to get her way.

"That's not fair."

"Life isn't fair, Rachel."

"I know that!" She snaps back. "Trust me, I've known that for the past eight years!" Rachel decides to fight fire with fire. If her mom is resorting to low blows, then so will she. "Mom, I've suffered. Truly suffered. For years. Don't I deserve a chance to be happy?"

As she'd expected, tears immediately fill her mom's eyes. "Of course you do! I want you to be happy! I'll do whatever I can to help you be happy. But I need you to be healthy. You deserve to be healthy."

"What would be different if I moved back home? Other than us being together again and not missing one another, what would actually be different?" She answers her own question before her mom can. "As much as I've been missing you, I'd be missing Kurt and Finn if I were there instead of here. And I'd miss the others. I'd be resting, but since I'm only stage two, and at the cusp of stage one, I'd probably end up taking classes at a community college just so that I wouldn't lose my mind from boredom. So I'd be resting outside of my classes. Isn't that what I do now? And it might not be you and Scott taking care of me, but I have six people who love me helping to take care of me when I need it."

Her mom stares at her silently, her eyes flickering between hers. Rachel can read the many emotions running through her mom's eyes. She decides to give a little push.

"I understand your fears, Mom. But I firmly believe that I've been handling everything really well. I go to class. When I don't feel up to it, I don't go. If I'm already there I come home or sit out. I rest every morning and night. I rest on the weekends and only go out when I feel up to it. I don't think going home will suddenly cause me to put on weight. Being home won't change my nausea or even my levels of exhaustion. It's just a side effect of being sick. My location won't change that. And honestly, if I was sitting home all the time, I'm pretty sure I'd fall back into the depression I was in before. I'm actually living here. I'm living, but I'm taking it easy. I don't push myself. And everyone here has been great about helping me."

Her mom takes her hand. "I need you to swear to me that if you start getting worse, you will be honest."

"I swear. I'll be honest and upfront about it."

"I also need you to swear that if I decide that you need to come home for a while, you won't fight me."

"Mom—"

Her mom holds up a finger. "I'd only do that if either your doctor said you needed a break from NYADA or if you get worse."

Rachel sighs. "Fine. I promise I won't fight you. I can't promise I won't be angry about it, but I'll go."

Her mom chuckles lightly. "Noted." She heaves a deep, long suffering sigh. "Fine. For now, you can stay here."

Rachel squeals and throws her arms around the older woman. "Thank you, Mom!"

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While her friends were not happy to hear she's now in stage two, they were relieved to hear she's still close to stage one and will most likely move back up soon. Rachel herself isn't worried. She really does believe she's going to be fine. Yes, she wants to experience things now in case she dies and never gets to later. She is a little worried about that. But not much. The majority of her is convinced she'll be fine. And if she's walking the line between stages one and two, that's fine. It's very manageable. Rachel really is finding that it's helping her spirits remain high to embrace life and focus on enjoying it, not fearing the future. She's going to die one day. Maybe in a few decades. Maybe in a few months. Quite possibly well before anyone else she loves. So why not enjoy the life she has instead of mourning a life she may never get? It beats the hell out of the depression she'd been trudging through for a while. Do dark, depressing thoughts creep into her consciousness from time to time? Of course. Does she sometimes feel overwhelmed, scared, or anxious? Yes. When that happens, all she needs to do is call her mom, hug one of her friends, make out with Finn, sing a song, or do something that makes her happy. Her depression isn't gone, but thankfully it only pops up from time to time and she is surrounded by people who love her to help pull her out of her funk.

Her mom stayed until Sunday. Rachel didn't have another nightmare and hopes she doesn't get another now that her mom is gone. She will keep her promise and call her mom immediately if she does have another nightmare. She ended up spending more of Saturday sleeping than she'd wanted to, but she knows she needed it. So did everyone else, so no one tried to wake her. Once she was awake and ready, she and her mom spent the day together exploring the city. Rachel showed her the little bakery around the corner that they like to get desserts from. They also like stopping there for a bagel or danish and coffee before heading to school/work. Saturday night was a relaxing form of fun that even her mom enjoyed. Sam and Noah pulled out their guitars and they sat around singing together casually. On Sunday morning, her mom hugged them all goodbye and took a cab to the airport. Rachel was relieved not to shed more than a couple tears this time. Maybe it's because she'll be home for fall break in a month. Maybe it's because she's looking forward to Blaine's visit in a week. Or maybe, she's starting to get used to saying goodbye knowing she won't see her mom for a while. Regardless of the reason, it was a drama free farewell.

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