A/N: I was going to post this sooner, but as I was editing it I decided I hated the ending. I ended up rewriting the second half of the chapter, which took longer than intended but I'm finally happy with it. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 10

Finn stares at his textbook with unseeing eyes. He's snapped out of his haze when he hears singing float in from the bathroom next door. He smiles slightly. They all frequently sing in the shower and it's nice to hear. Sometimes others join in from out in the hall or a nearby room. Once the whole house joined in from multiple floors. That was fun. Right now, it's Rachel singing. Kurt had complained about her using up all the hot water, taking long showers, and singing loudly. She insisted she was running her scales and warming up so that she'd be prepared to sing on campus at any moment. She also said she needs to practice more because everyone expects more from her now that she's a showcase winner. His stepbrother snapped back that winning the showcase didn't make her more deserving of hot water. Finn stayed out of it, but Kurt and Santana tag teamed Rachel and pointed out that she was getting arrogant and selfish. The nickname "diva" was becoming less affectionate by the day. They warned her not to let her head inflate too much. Yes, they're very proud of her, but they all need warm water to shower and not everyone wants to hear her loud scales every time she showers. She'd pouted and complained to Finn about it. He'd let her rant, staying quiet, until she talked herself into realizing where Kurt and San were coming from. She'd been a tad disappointed and ashamed, but started taking shorter showers and not singing quite as loud while practicing her scales. But he doesn't mind. He gets to listen to his girl sing. Right now it's not scales, but a song. It sounds like she's just singing for fun. His lips form a soft smile and he closes his eyes, just enjoying the mini performance. He loves listening to her sing when she's relaxed and singing just for fun, like now.

He hates New York. Still. He's not a fan of his classes, but they're honestly getting better. Especially when he reminds himself why he's doing this. His mind frequently goes to his other option; becoming a mechanic. He wonders if he made a mistake. But he wants to be a gym teacher and maybe a coach; glee and/or football. He wants to inspire kids. That means putting in the hard work now. Besides, he has Rachel's support no matter what he does. That means a lot to him. His brilliant girl also pointed out that he can switch careers at any point. She just wants him to be happy. He wishes he could be happy in New York. Mostly he's just happy to be with his girl and his friends. That's what he enjoys. If Rachel could be on the brink of death and choose to come back and keep fighting, knowing she'd have to keep suffering, then he can put up with living in this irritating city to be with her. He'd do anything to be with her. Even stay here. He sighs, wondering if—

"Shut up, Berry!" Santana shouts from the hallway.

"Bite me, Lopez!" Rachel snaps back.

"Don't threaten me! You're not my type but you're hot. I have no problem going in there and biting your bare ass!"

"Don't you dare! Just because I'm not allowed to lock the door doesn't mean you can—"

"Ugh, shut up! Brittany would be mad if I did that, so I won't. She'd feel left out. Just finish up already! I have to brush my teeth!"

Without bothering to respond, Rachel goes back to singing louder than before. Finn laughs to himself. Yeah, it's worth it to be here with them. In the hall, Santana starts ranting in Spanish. Finn shakes his head and tries to refocus on his homework. He's not sure why he needs to go through all this just to be a gym teacher. He's really glad he took Rachel's advice and spoke to Mr. Schue and Coach Bieste about their jobs. It helped him reaffirm that he wants to be a gym teacher and hopefully football coach, not a history teacher like he'd been debating. He'll still have to write lesson plans, but less than classroom teachers. He'll still have to grade the kids, but have very few written assignments to read and grade. The vast majority will be grading what they can physically do and their improvement. He can handle that. It kind of sounds fun. And he could always work as a mechanic part time in the summers. Maybe that's how he'll get breaks from the city and keep his sanity. Maybe he can go back to Ohio and work in Burt's shop every summer. Rachel won't be alone. She'll be here with Kurt and Blaine, if no one else. Besides, she'd be busy working whatever show she'll be doing at the time. And she can come visit him if she's between shows. Then when school starts up they can resume their normal lives in the city. Yeah. He can manage that. He could even be happy with that, he thinks. He grins, pleased with his plan and getting more excited about the future than he's been in a while. He can't wait to discuss this wi—Rachel's voice cuts out mid word. The abrupt silence sets him on edge.

"Berry? Rach?" Santana calls out uncertainly.

Finn stands, stepping closer to the door and the wall the separates his room from the bathroom so he can hear better. There's no barking, either. Yero was in Brittany and Kurt's room last he checked, playing with a ball (he has free reign of the house, no one minding if he goes in their room). They've learned that Yero doesn't have to be in the same room as Rachel to sense an incoming attack, he just needs to be nearby. Maybe it's a sudden headache. She gets those fairly frequently.

"Rach?"

"San? I may have…um…I may have cut myself shaving." Finn's stomach drops. "There's already a lot of blood."

The water shuts off, followed by the sound of a doorknob turning. Santana's voice is tense. "I'm coming in, Rachel."

Finn follows. He steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind him, not wanting Sam (the only other person here) to risk seeing his girl naked. Only he gets to…and occasionally Santana and Brittany, but only when it's unavoidable. He knows she's only really comfortable being seen naked by him. Rachel is sitting on the edge of the bathtub and reaching for a towel. Santana is faster and grabs it, quickly wrapping it around her, then crouching down to look at her leg. Rachel's foot is covered in blood. There's a puddle of blood steadily growing under her. Finn's head spins from how fast the blood is leaving her. It's ridiculous. He grabs a hand towel and presses it to her ankle, where the cut seems to be.

"Well shit." Santana mumbles.

"Yeah." Rachel's voice is quiet.

Finn's eyes snap up to her face. She's growing steadily paler and her eyes are unfocused. He kisses her lips. "Hey. Stay with me, okay? I need you to stay awake."

"No promises." She mutters.

Santana grabs a bigger towel and tries to wrap it over the smaller towel to soak up the blood. Sam is better at wrapping injuries. Thank God he doesn't have an early class today. Finn lurches into the hallway and bellows his friend's name.

"SAM!"

There's a clatter from downstairs, then pounding steps. Finn quickly glances back into the bathroom to make sure Rachel is appropriately covered. She is. Sort of. All her lady bits are covered by the towel, at least. But she's starting to lean, on the brink of falling over. Santana, holding the towels to her leg, doesn't notice. Finn hurries back in and lifts Rachel. Not sure where to set her, he decides to just sit on the floor against the wall and have her sit on his lap. That way he can keep his arms around her. Sitting like that, he can feel her chest rising and falling more sluggishly than normal. It makes his heart skyrocket.

"You're gonna be alright." He whispers in her ear as Sam gets to the door, looking worried.

"Whoa. What happened?"

"She cut her leg shaving." Santana hurries to explain, voice shaking slightly. "We need to wrap it, but all we have is towels and she's bleeding through those."

Sam kneels down and carefully lifts the towels. Blood spurts out. The blonde boy quickly presses it back down, his face paling. "Keep the towels on it. She needs an ambulance. I'll call."

He sprints back downstairs where he left his phone. Santana presses down on the towels firmly, her eyes on Rachel's face. The girl in his arms begins to shiver. Finn reaches behind him for another dry towel to cover her with. Sam reenters the bathroom and checks Rachel's vitals; relaying the information to the operator on the line. He takes over holding the towel on her ankle so that Santana can go grab some lounge clothes to put on her. Sam willingly steps out into the hall while Finn and Santana work together to dress Rachel. The small brunette isn't much help, weak as she is. Her eyes are starting to droop. Finn feels like throwing up, but keeps it at bay. All this from a cut from shaving? It's insane.

"Berry, stay awake."

"Tired." The girl slurs.

"Then sing." Santana urges.

"Tired." She whines.

"Please, you were just singing your heart out minutes ago." Santana sasses, hiding her worry well. "What kind of Broadway wannabe turns down a chance to sing? Not Rachel Berry. Sing."

Rachel's eyes move around the bathroom, not settling on anything. She needs something to focus on to stay awake and Santana's idea of singing is a good one. Finn starts singing the first song that comes to mind. "Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world."

Santana joins him on the next line, then they both look to Rachel expectantly. She's fighting unconsciousness. "Don't stop…" her chest heaves "…..believing" she's still slurring, but she's conscious. That's the main thing they need from her right now.

The trio continues to sing with Rachel struggling to keep up with the others. They push her to keep singing, wanting to keep her awake. They only stop when they hear a clammer from downstairs followed by voices. Help has arrived. Finn and Santana share a relieved look. The paramedics enter the bathroom. Santana steps back so she's in the bathtub and out of the way. She immediately slips and catches herself on the wall. Looking down, her face falls. Finn figures there's more blood there. The paramedics immediately connect her to a heart monitor, oxygen, and fluids through an IV.

"Wow, okay, let's see the damage." The oldest says, lifting the towel. He frowns, wiping up blood to find the cause. This is just from nicking herself shaving?"

"She bleeds easily. She has aplastic anemia." Finn supplies, keeping his arms around his girl. They haven't asked him to let go yet, so he won't.

They nod in a way that implies they understand she bleeds easily but aren't familiar with AA. After a moment, they find the source of the blood and wrap it heavily. Sam watches carefully. "The good news is it looks like it's slowing down already."

"Yeah, cuz there's like no blood left inside her." Santana snaps.

Finn gives her a look, then glances down at Rachel. She's still fighting the pull of sleep. He kisses her temple.

"Don't worry. It'll be a fairly quick ride to the hospital and she'll get a blood transfusion." He looks around at the bathroom floor and pile of bloody towels. "Or two."

"Alright, son. You're gonna have to set her down." The younger paramedic says gently.

Rachel frowns and looks up at him blearily, clearly not happy with that. Finn frowns. "She needs to be carried downstairs. I can do that. I've done it a bunch of times."

The paramedics share a look, debating whether or not to give in. Without waiting for a response, Finn begins the process of standing. The paramedics are quick to reach out to support him, but he has done this so many times he's a pro. He and the other guys found a gym just a couple blocks away and have been going there to stay in shape. Finn has put on even more muscle in the last few months. Exercising is a good stress reliever. Not as good as making out with Rachel, but it's up there. He's even stronger now than he was in high school and lifts Rachel with ease. Besides, she still hasn't put on as much weight as she should have so she's still well below average weight for a woman her height. Too skinny. But that's a concern for another day. He stays inside, keeping Rachel in the warmth of the house, while the paramedics go out to get the stretcher. Once they bring it up to the door he carries her out to it and they strap her in before covering her with a blanket.

"Go with her." Sam nods. "We'll stay and clean up here then meet you there."

"Thanks, man." They fist bump.

He was never not going to go with her, but he appreciates having their support. In his mind, there's no question that he'd go with her. The only times it's a question is when Kurt or her mother are there. Beyond that, it's his place to be at her side. It's where he's meant to be. He feels that even stronger than his distaste for New York. In the back of the ambulance, they put her on oxygen. Rachel reaches for his hand. He takes it and smiles at her. She smiles back.

"Gonna take a nap. Kay?" She slurs in a faint voice.

"Yeah." He kisses her forehead. "Take a nap."

"Love you."

She's out cold before he can respond. He responds anyway.

"I love you more."

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Two blood transfusions later, Rachel is awake and annoyed. Her arms are crossed and she's huffing over missing a whole day of classes.

"It's the first time you've missed this semester." Santana tries to comfort her.

"I was hoping to not miss any this semester." The brunette grumbles.

"Well that's unreasonable. You need days off. This just happened to be less 'rest' and more 'rush to hospital'."

"And you were late once." Finn points out.

"Because of a headache. But once the meds kicked in, I went to class."

"Just relax and rest, alright? If you don't get enough rest today, you won't be able to go in tomorrow."

"Fine, Mom." Rachel snaps. Then her expression changes. "Speaking of….did anyone happen to call my mom?"

"Yeah. I called after they started your first transfusion." Finn assures her. "She wants you to call her when you feel up to it."

Rachel is woozy, tired, and miserable. It doesn't help that her head is pounding. She doesn't feel like making a phone call. She'll call later.

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Sam didn't stay for long since he had to get to his paramedic classes. But he did make sure to bring her her favorite iced tea and jokingly thank her giving him "hands on experience". She'd swatted at him, but laughed. Santana and Finn stayed. San sent a text to their group, letting them know what happened and that Rachel would be home in a few hours. The doctors had initially been bewildered by how much blood she lost just from her tiny shaving cut. But then they brought in a hematologist who had a better understanding of her condition. She checked Rachel's vitals and discussed her current stage and symptoms with them.

"She was stage one over break. Dr. Reed told her." Santana says.

"Well now she's stage two."

Rachel shrugs. "I kind of figured."

"Rach keeps flip flopping between stages 1 and 2." Finn tells the doctor. "To the point that she got frustrated and told Dr. McCann to stop telling her."

"Stop telling her?" The young hematologist asks, looking between all of them.

Rachel shrugs. "The back and forth is annoying. I told him just to tell me if I go into remission or if I drop to stage three."

The doctor chuckles. "I can understand that. But it is good to know where you stand."

"Well when standing is hard right after waking up, I'm generally stage two. So I can usually figure it out."

The others look surprised. And dismayed. The doctor looks curious. "You have specific symptoms that occur with each stage?"

"Sort of. Just certain things that are worse or better with certain stages. At stage one I struggle to wake up, but once I'm up I'm up. At stage two I have a hard time waking up and actually getting myself to stand on my own two feet, steadily, is more of a challenge."

Santana sighs. She's seen her wake up often enough to know this and Rachel knows she doesn't like it. It worries her. Rachel appreciates that her Latina friend doesn't make a fuss over it. Some mornings Santana has to help her actually get off the bed or hold her arm for the first few steps before she feels steady. It's not every day, but often enough that the girls are used to it. At home in Ohio, Rachel would stand, then lean on her desk until she was steady enough to walk. She doesn't have a desk here, so she's glad she has a friend to support her. This is new this second diagnosis. The first time she was sick this didn't happen until stage three. Shaking those thoughts away, Rachel looks at the blood bag and sighs heavily.

"I just had my treatment a couple days ago. I got blood then."

"And you lost it all. And then some. You'll probably need a second bag at your next treatment." The doctor says sympathetically.

That means a longer treatment. Rachel hates when she has to stay there for long. Plus she feels guilty for whoever has to stay with her. They claim to not mind and never act put out, but she still feels bad. They stay with her, then everyone changes what they're doing based on how she's feeling afterwards. If she has a headache, they stay quiet until it goes away. If she's nauseous, they don't cook or bake anything that'll fill the house with a strong scent. If she's dizzy, they don't leave her alone. She loves them and is so very grateful to all of them.

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Rachel was sent home that afternoon, still feeling woozy. They all felt guilty when they got home to find Yero sitting in the hallway facing the door, his leash in his mouth and vest on the floor next to him. He must have woken from his nap, realized they were all gone, and waited patiently (or possibly anxiously) by the door, ready to go with them. He has never been left alone. Ever. He goes with Rachel everywhere or on walks with one of the others. Rachel dropped to her kneels and the golden retriever barreled into her, licking her face and whining. After she calmed him down and gave him plenty of pets, she'd sent an email to her professors about why she'd needed the day off then went to sleep. She woke up with Brittany curled around her. She smiled and snuggled in. The girls talked quietly for a while. Brittany told her about her classes that day and a funny story about a classmate. Her dancer friend insisted on helping her down the stairs even though she felt better. Instead of fighting or arguing, Rachel simply accepted it and chattered happily about the movie they'd gone to see last weekend.

After eating a simple meal, she finally called her mom. Her mother wasn't thrilled about how long it took Rachel to call her, but didn't fuss too much. She had to promise her mom that she's really better and doesn't need her to come visit. They argued over whether Rachel should attend class the next day. Rachel conceded to letting Kurt have the final say. She also promised that if she doesn't feel up to it, she won't go. If she does feel up to it, Kurt will have to confirm that he feels she's up to it. By dinner time, she was feeling better and joined her framily for the meal. Noah told a story about a coworker messing up the chemicals and turning the pool a weird color. The way he told it had everyone in stitches. Rachel loves nights like this; warm and happy. She even ate a normal amount, which pleased everyone. Later in the evening, when she begins to tire more, she gets up from her spot beside Kurt and sits on her boyfriend's lap.

"Sleep with me tonight?" She whispers in his ear.

"Always."

She always enjoys falling asleep in his arms, but this is mostly for him. After the events of today, he'll be able to sleep easier if she's in his arms. San, too, probably, but she already shares a room with Santana. And while she loves San, she'll always prioritize Finn over the others. His needs come first and he needs the comfort of knowing she's okay and is there with him. She knows this. And if he sleeps in her bed, both he and Santana will feel better. And Sam will be happy to know she has two people to monitor her all night.

They head upstairs together, leaving their friends to watch tv downstairs. Finn leads her into his room, not wanting her out of his sight while he changes into pajamas. Not that she minds. Her eyes drink in his muscles as he changes. He smirks, knowing she's enjoying the view. In her room, she repays him in kind. She takes her time pulling off her top and smirks at the quiet inhalation she hears. The sobering moment is when he checks her bandage to make sure she hasn't bled through it. Even the simple task of brushing their teeth together is comforting. Rachel imagines the future; living with just Finn and having this be a normal, nightly routine. It fills her with anticipation. The best part of all, of course, is sliding into bed with him. His strong arms around her and his woodsy scent fill her with both arousal and comfort. It's an interesting combination, but one she revels in. She chuckles when he slides a hand up to cup her breast.

"Only until Santana arrives. Then behave yourself."

"She won't be able to see." He argues playfully.

"It's Santana. She has a sixth sense when it comes to anything sexual."

He laughs. "Fair point, but I really don't think she'll mind."

"Fair?" She wiggles her butt into his front and he groans.

His hand moves down to firmly grasp her waist, halting her. "Don't start what we can't finish now."

"Same to you."

He sighs. "Fine."

Finn moves his arm and wraps his hand around hers. Feeling completely secure and loved, and anticipating a future where they won't have to hold back, they drift off to sleep.

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Thankfully, she's able to convince Kurt that she feels up to going to classes the next day. She really is fine. Maybe a little more tired, but there's nothing to do about that. That's to be expected. Cassie is the only one to give her a hard time about her day off. Everyone else is supportive and/or just happy she's back today. Her dance teacher rolls her eyes.

"Oh, the princess is finally gracing up with her presence."

Rachel, bundled up in thick layers, merely grins. "I'm here."

"And pale as shit. Should you be here?" Brody examines her, brow furrowed.

She nods. "As long as I can rest when I need to and stay bundled up, yes."

"Bundled up?"

"I'm cold."

People with anemia are frequently cold or get cold easily. It's winter and Rachel is severely anemic. Plus even though she got two blood transfusions yesterday, she still lost a ton of blood. She's no longer weak, but she's cold as fuck. Finn turns into a furnace while he's sleeping; he exudes heat. She needed that very much appreciated the extra body warmth. It was really hard to let him get out of bed this morning. And she did not play fair. All she had to do was pout up at him with big eyes and reach for him. He caved instantly and crawled back into bed to snuggle with her.

"I can't stay long or I'll miss my class." He'd mumbled into her hair.

Sighing, she'd reluctantly released him. He'd just as reluctantly climbed out of the bed. He'd made sure to steal Santana's comforter and toss it over her before leaving, though. Santana was not pleased to wake up chilly moments later. Instead of stealing her comforter back, she just climbed into bed with Rachel and the two girls snuggled together. They were back to sleep in moments. Neither sleeping girl heard the telltale click of a picture being taken, but they did wake briefly when Brittany joined them for a couple minutes, wanting in on the snuggles.

Cassie's eyes bulge. "Today is your make up day because you missed yesterday and you're saying you might need breaks during it?" She groans. "You know what? Go home. I know dance is your last class of the day, so just go home. You can hold your makeup lesson later when you can fully participate."

Her instructor may have used an irritated tone when speaking, but her face reveals her concern. Holding back the smile she knows the woman wouldn't appreciate, she nods.

"Okay. If you think that's best."

"I do. So scram."

Dismissed and honestly relieved about it, Rachel leaves. Luckily, the university has been good about shoveling and salting the pathways. It'd really suck to slip on ice and end up back in the ER. Yero trots beside her, pausing to paw at a snow pile before running to catch up to her. The young diva debates what to do. She can go to the student center and buy a tea and sit on a couch to wait for Kurt's last class to end and go home with him. She could text her group to see if anyone is free to take her home. She dismisses the idea of heading home alone. Rachel is feeling really tired and a little off. She'd felt fine this morning, but as the day wore on she's tiring more. She hates it, but chooses to focus on the positive side; she's here. There's a bench up ahead. She'll sit there, let Yero run around a bit, and text the group. Maybe Kurt can leave class early. An odd feeling sweeps over her and she stops walking. It comes again in another wave, making her feel off balance. Two feet to her right is a light pole. Rachel staggers to it, not even realizing she'd dropped Yero's leash. Clinging to the pole, she takes steadying breaths. It doesn't help. The world around her swirls. And then everything goes white. Rachel is aware that she's still on her feet, she can still feel cold wind blowing across her face and ruffling her hair, and she can hear voices of people nearby. But she can't see a thing. Everything is white. There's whining, then barking, but her brain can't think through the white blanket covering it. The world drops away and it's just her and the pole her hands are clinging to. Are her eyes even open? She's not sure. Sounds are distorted.

Something changes, she's just not sure what. Voices are closer and clearer than before. Hands are on her. They're trying to move her. Rachel tries to go with the invisible people but her knees buckle. The hands keep her from falling, but slowly lower her to the ground. When she realizes her butt is cold from sitting on the ground, the whiteness fades away. Blinking, she looks around. A couple students and one professor are standing or kneeling around her. Yero is behind them, pacing anxiously and whining lowly.

"Crap."

The people around her laugh in relief. "You back?"

She only recognizes one of them. An older student who won the showcase last year. She'd pulled Rachel aside to talk about winning not long after the semester began. Alice, is her name. Alice takes her hand.

"Are you okay? Can we call someone? Or take you somewhere?"

Feeling embarrassed even though she knows it was out of her control, Rachel looks around. "Um, how about to that bench? The ground is cold."

They help her stand. "The bench will be cold, too." They point out.

"True, but it'll be easier to get up from there. And less embarrassing." She admits.

"Don't be embarrassed." Alice insists. "Seriously."

"Can we call someone to come get you?" The professor asks.

"I'll call. Thank you. All of you. I appreciate your help."

The small group shares an uncertain look. The professor shoos everyone away. "Go on to your classes. I don't have a class for a while, I have time to stay with her."

"You don't have to—"

"Thanks, professor." Alice says, talking over Rachel.

Rachel sighs, realizing she's not going to be left alone. Probably for the best. Yero rests his upper body on her lap, keeping her legs warm. She sends her text message to the group. Minutes later, Kurt comes flying up the walkway, skidding to a halt in front of them.

"Hi. I'm here." He looks to the professor sitting beside her. "Thank you, ma'am. Really. I've got it from here."

"If you're sure." The woman makes sure Kurt nods before leaving. She pats Rachel's gloved hand. "Feel better."

"Thanks."

Kurt sits beside her, his hair windblown and cheeks red from the cold. His eyes frantically look her over. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I didn't exactly pass out, but sort of."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means everything went white and I couldn't see anything or move and everything was really muffled like it was far away, but I was still conscious and aware that I was standing and cold and holding onto that pole." She points to the pole a few feet away.

Kurt looks at her somberly, seeming to slump slightly. When he speaks, it's quiet. "Stage two. Seems different than your stage two the last time around."

"Yeah. You're telling me."

"I'm sorry, Tink."

"I'm sorry you had to leave class."

He gives her an irritated look and doesn't bother responding. "Let's go home. Do you feel up to walking?"

"Yeah."

Her brother helps her stand, keeping his arms under hers in case she needs to be caught. She doesn't. They loop arms and walk slowly off campus. Rachel only needs to stop once when the world tilts slightly.

"Guess I wasn't quite as ready to return to class as I thought." She admits once they're on the bus heading home.

"Clearly."

"Any chance you could not mention this to my mom?"

"Do I look like I have a death wish?"

She chuckles and leans into him. The house is empty when they get there. Everyone else is at class or work. Rachel looks at the stairs with dismay. Not happening. Even Kurt shakes his head.

"Don't bother. Just lie on the couch. I'll grab you a pillow and blanket."

"Make that two." She shivers. "Or three."

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There's muffled talking nearby. Rachel keeps her eyes closed, but wakes up so she can listen in. Sometimes this is the best way to learn how the others are really feeling. They're honest with her, but they sometimes omit things so she doesn't feel stressed or guilty. She's aware of this. She doesn't intentionally eavesdrop on them, but if the situation presents itself, like now, she takes full advantage. After a moment, she can make out the words.

"—back to the hospital?"

No.

"I don't think that's necessary. But maybe we can ask her to call her doctor later."

"The office will be closed."

"She can leave a message, dipshit."

"Relax, San. Rachel's fine."

"She's fine but she's not fine." The Latina huffs.

Footsteps come closer. Luckily, Rachel has perfected her sleeping act. Fingers lightly trace her cheek before brushing her hair behind her ear. "If she were truly fine, she wouldn't be 'sort of' passing out."

"It's better than actually passing out, right? She stayed conscious, mostly."

"Some of her senses left her. That's not good."

"But it was temporary."

"This is pointless, guys. We'll have her call her doctor and leave a message. I'm sure Dr. McCann will get back to her tomorrow. Maybe he'll just explain what happened and say it's no big deal. Maybe he'll have her come in for an appointment. There's no point stressing about it tonight."

"He's right. Let's just…..keep an extra eye on her tonight."

"And tomorrow."

"Right. And tomorrow. For now, let's let her rest."

There's a shuffling of feet and the voices become more distant. Opening her eyes, Rachel confirms that she's alone in the living room. The others are all home. Santana should still be at work, but clearly asked to come home early. That makes Rachel feel guilty. She sits up with a sigh. After making sure that she's steady on her feet, she walks quietly to the kitchen where the others are gathered.

"She's fine. She'll be fine."

"I know that." Santana says defensively. "This is Berry we're talking about. If anyone can pull off a miracle, it'll be her."

She initially says it with confidence, then freezes, her eyes widening. When she sees Rachel she pales, then her eyes fill with tears.

"San—"

Swatting away Brittany's outstretched hand, Santana rushes out of the kitchen and down the hall. The others turn, finally seeing Rachel. The girl frowns in concern.

"What was that about?"

The others share a look. Finn explains. "Uh…..those were the exact words Santana used two years ago."

"Two years ago?" Rachel looks at their expressions. There are varying emotions, and none of them good. They all look upset.

"Yeah, Tink. Two years ago. When…when Dad came into the choir room and….and announced that…that you were….dying. That it was time to say goodbye."

Sam nods. "Santana insisted you'd be able to pull off a last minute miracle."

"And you were." Noah points out. "Just saying. She was right. And she'll be right again."

Rachel thinks it over. "Do you think it'll help or make things worse if I go to comfort her?"

"Probably both." Brittany says quietly.

"Well…I'll do my best. If I fail, I'll call for you Brittany. You can comfort her better than anyone else."

Brittany nods sadly. The girls have had a few tiffs lately, but they always come back together before long. Rachel finds Santana standing in the middle of the living room with her arms wrapped around her torso protectively, looking like she's battling back tears. Unable to think of any words at the moment, Rachel goes up to her and hugs her tight.

"Thank you for always having faith in me, San."

Santana hugs her back just as tight. "You're too much of a pain in the ass to not get what you want. Somehow, you always manage it in the end."

Rachel laughs. "I think there was a compliment buried somewhere in there. Deep, deep in there."

Santana chuckles. "Sure, dwarf."

They separate. "Seriously, though. Thank you. It means a lot to me." Rachel grins sardonically. "And hey, it's not like you put any pressure on me to pull off another miracle. No biggie."

Santana's soft smile falls. "Look, I know you've been fluctuating between stages one and two, but if you drop to stage three I'm bringing you back to Ohio myself. We need you to be okay. You realize that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. It's not entirely in my control, you know."

"I know that. But some of it is. What happened today probably wouldn't have happened if you'd stayed home."

"Maybe. But I honestly felt fine this morning. Or, you know, as fine as I ever feel."

Santana's expression is briefly sympathetic before hardening. "I get that. But you can rest more. We can't…..we nearly lost you once. Technically more than once. This is scary as fuck, alright? We can't lose you. Going through this stuff, like what happened today…..it's scary and stressful. It's easier since we have each other to lean on and comfort, but you can help out by resting."

"I do."

"I know you do, I just….." Santana drags her over to the couch and they sit. "Sorry, I'm just freaked. We all are. So go easy on us if we're overprotective for the next day or so. Cut us some slack."

"Okay." She assures her friendly softly. Then she really thinks over what her friend said. She hesitates, but decides to speak her mind. "Wouldn't…..wouldn't it be easier to face the second time around?" When Santana frowns in confusion, she goes on. "Like….it's like you said. You've already almost lost me. I've nearly died a bunch of times. I was near death for a while. So…..wouldn't it be easier to deal with now?"

Santana's face is fierce and she snarls out a single word. "No."

Rachel's brow furrows in confusion. "But you've already dealt with it. You know….sort of…what it's like to lose, or almost lose, a close friend."

Her friend looks away for a moment. "It'd be worse."

"Why, though? I got to live longer than expected. I got to do more! I got to spend more time with you guys and make more wonderful memories. I performed with you guys and we became national champions. I graduated high school and started college. We had more time."

Santana shoots up from the couch. "Not enough! It's not enough time! Don't you realize that?! We need more! So no. If you end up dying this time, it'll feel worse because it's like a tease. They taunted us by letting us think we'd have you for the rest of our lives, but instead they took you away just two years later. So no. It wouldn't be any easier."

The taller girl books it up the stairs, leaving Rachel sitting in the dim living room alone. She sighs, fearing she made things worse. She'd just been curious. Her friend made a valid argument, though. She makes like she's going to get up then stops, realizing it's pointless. First of all, she doesn't feel up to going up the stairs alone right now. Second of all, San probably needs a little space from her.

"She's right." Finn is leaning in the doorway. "It'd be worse."

"You're saying that because we're actually planning on getting married. When I was in stage four, it was more of a desperate wish. A wonderful dream. Now it's a plan. Well I guess it's still a dream since we're not engaged yet."

"Which is your choice. You said you didn't want to be engaged this young." Finn sits beside her.

"And I stand by that."

He kisses her lightly on the lips, then again firmer. "It's a plan. We are getting married. The when and where is to be determined."

She nods. "It's a plan. I didn't mean to upset Santana even more."

He shrugs lightly. "We're all a little on edge right now after what happened earlier. And she's sensitive, even if she refuses to admit it. She was also right. We're terrified of losing you. It really would have been more like a tease. But I also see your point. We had more time together and had more, wonderful memories. And if you were to die, which is not going to happen, I'd keep those memories in my heart for the rest of my life. They'd be precious to me."

Rachel swallows hard, knowing he's completely serious. She kisses him lovingly. "Then let's make more precious memories."

"I like that plan. Not that it'll be necessary."

"It won't. I'm going to get better and go into remission and marry you and get on Broadway. But it doesn't hurt to have a back up plan. Just in case."

He looks at her warily, seemly uncertain about whether he should agree or not. Finally he caves in. "Just in case."

"Besides, we can refer back to these wonderful memories when we're old and gray and laugh about them."

His smiles. "Yeah. I like that thought."

Not long later, Finn helps her up the stairs. They talk quietly while getting ready for bed. She feels a weird sort of comfort in the knowledge that she knows his bedtime routine. She wants to know everything about him. When they're ready, they hesitate in the hall.

"Whose room?"

"I'm thinking Santana still needs a little space from me. Let me just grab my pillow then we'll head to your room."

He nods. Rachel tiptoes into her shared room. Santana and Brittany are curled up on San's bed. She grabs her pillow (she likes having her own pillow even if she's sharing his bed) and turns around.

"Get back in here, Berry." Santana says tiredly.

"Are you s—"

"Get. Your. Scrawny. Butt. Back. In. Here."

She smiles. "Fine. but Finn's spending the night with me again."

"Fine. Britt's staying."

"Fine."

She tosses her pillow back on the bed and pushes the door open. "Grab your pillow and join me here?"

He grins knowingly. "San doesn't want you out her sight, does she?"

"I guess not."

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Two days. For two days, she accepted all overprotectiveness with a warm smile. She even agreed to stay home from classes for a day to really rest. By the third day, when they were showing no sign of loosening up, she dropped the smile and started giving them mildly irritated looks. She still went along with whatever they suggested, but made it clear she wasn't happy about it and didn't feel it was necessary. She doesn't need a babysitter while showering. If it had been Finn joining her in the shower, she wouldn't have minded. But it was Brittany insisting on sitting on the floor of the bathroom while she showers. It was annoying. Always having someone so close to her that their arm brushes hers started making her feel stifled. Not being allowed on stairs by herself was annoying. The constant text messages checking in on her was starting to wear on her nerves. By the fifth day, she started gently pointing out that they were going over the top. Portioning out her dinner and making sure she eats it all is overkill. They stopped doing that, but the rest remained. Normally she likes sharing her bed with someone. But never getting a moment alone, even in sleep, is driving her nuts. A week after her episode, she had her appointment with Dr. McCann. They all wanted to come (even her mother wanted to make a trip up for it). She insisted on just bringing Finn and Kurt. The others complained but backed off. Dr. McCann confirmed that she's still stage two (ignoring her wish to not be told unless there's a major change). He asked for details about the episode, which she diligently recounted. He nodded and basically said it's similar to passing out. While it's not as common as fainting or dizziness, it can happen. Nothing out of the ordinary for someone with aplastic anemia. He also said it could happen again. Her boys left the appointment worried about it happening again. She left the appointment fuming. Nothing is changing. Life will be an endless cycle of symptoms that disrupt actually living.

At home, the boys told the others what was said. No one seemed relieved that it's not an unexpected symptom. They all focused on the part where the doctor said it could happen again. That, combined with the knowledge that she's mid stage two, just made them more worried. No matter how calmly Rachel expressed that she's fine and can go back to living how they were living before would reassure them. She wants to go back to living life to its fullest and facing the symptoms and challenges as they come, with her head up and friends by her side. They seem to want to coddle her. They start trying to convince her to cut back on classes. They stop inviting her on outings. They themselves make less group outings, wanting to stay home with her so she can rest. Her treatment, with two bags of blood as predicted, was rough. She'll admit that. She had a really bad migraine. She'd need a little extra care that evening. What she didn't need was what she got; they stuck earplugs in her ears, covered her eyes with a blindfold, shushed everyone nearby, and carried her to and from the Uber. They also carried her up to her room and had someone sit with her round the clock. They ignored her repeated attempts to send them away. She just needed quiet and a nap. What they were doing was overkill. And it didn't stop that night. Talking to her mom didn't help.

"They're worried abut you, honey."

"I know that."

"They love you and it sounds like they're doing a good job taking care of you."

Rachel slowly releases a breath, making sure she can respond calmly. "But I don't need the amount of care that they're providing. Even you weren't going this overboard over winter break."

"You weren't stage two over winter break." Her mom points out.

"But I'm only stage two. You let me stay in New York, attending NYADA at stage two."

"Not comfortably. And only because your friends swore they'd take care of you. It sounds like they're taking that very seriously, which makes me feel better."

"It's too much. They're too protective. They're barely letting me live my life."

"If it's too much, you could always come home for a while." Her mom says lightly.

She'd ended the call not long after that, irritated that no one seems to understand her plight. To add insult to injury, Finn refused to take her out for Valentine's Day. He suggested a private dinner in his room.

"I'll make sure the others leave us alone. We'll light candles and put a blanket on the floor, play soft music….." He gives his best boyish grin. "It'll be really romantic."

Frowning, Rachel questions him. "We talked about going to a nice restaurant. That'd be more romantic."

"Yeah, but….." he shrugs awkwardly "…..that was before, you know…"

Heart sinking, she thinks she does know. Still, she tries a different tactic, hoping it'll change his mind. "If it's a money thing, you know I don't care about paying."

"I'll pay for a special night for us. That's not the issue. I just think it'd be more romantic—"

"And I said I think it'd be more romantic to go to a fancy restaurant just the two of us. We can get dressed up and go out into the city."

"Neither of those things is really my thing, you know?" Finn points out.

She does know. However, she really thought he'd be willing to put on a nice suit and take her out on freaking Valentines Day. They don't dress up much anymore. Thinking about it, she realizes they've only had one regular date since returning to New York. They stopped going on formal dates.

"Will you anyway? Just one night?" Seeing him look a little uncertain, she gives a hard push. "For me?"

That nearly breaks him. He takes her hand. "I'd do anything for you. You know that. But this….it's just Valentine's Day. It's not even like an anniversary or anything meaningful to us. I'd feel more comfortable staying home. Not just because then I can avoid the crowds of the city and not have to wear a suit, but….." she can see him push through his hesitation "…..because of your health. I'd feel more comfortable staying home. Just in case. For you. For your health."

Rachel swallows hard, diverting her eyes so he won't see them well up. "I get it."

She doesn't. She won't keep pushing, though. Stomach twisting and heart heavy, she'd forced herself to smile through the romantic picnic dinner Finn prepared for them in his bedroom. Honestly, she'd been hoping that they'd go out to a fancy restaurant (or at least something nicer than what they usually go to), then finally make love. She hadn't been ready in high school. Now he's not willing to have sex with her until she's in remission. She'd initially agreed with him 100%. But that was before. Now, she's getting impatient. And so goddamn horny. She wants him. Instead, on what she'd hoped to be an amazing Valentine's Day with Finn, she'd made an excuse about having a headache and gone to bed early. She wouldn't even make out with him, she was so upset. And the worst part was she couldn't talk to him about it without hurting him. So she kept her mouth shut and let him believe she just hadn't felt well. Adding salt to the wound, Kurt bunked with her that night so that Brittany and Santana could have sex.

They all freaked out at her next moderate attack. It'd happened in the middle of the night, startling all of them. They acted like it was a severe attack and she had to talk fast to convince them not to take her to the hospital. They made her stay home the next day and in bed for half the day. Trips out into the city stopped. With any of them. They all made excuses to stay home or close by. She starts going to campus as early as she possibly can and staying as late as she possibly can so that she can avoid being around them. Cassie comments that her dancing has taken on an edge. She starts to admit that it's emotionally driven caused by drama with her friends. Her instructor instantly waved it away saying she didn't care, but did like the new attitude and focus she was putting into her dancing. Brody on the other hand was more concerned.

"This isn't like you. What's up?"

"I'm….stressed. And kind of angry."

"So I noticed. I thought your last kick would take someone's head off if they were close enough." He jokes. Then he sobers. "Trouble in paradise?" At her confused look, he clarifies. "Trouble with Finn?"

His lightly hopeful tone sets her on edge. "No. It's with…..everyone. They're coddling me and not letting me breathe."

"Oh. Yeah, I can see that being annoying."

"I just…..I love them, but I don't really want to be around them right now. You know?"

"Yeah, sometimes you just need a little space."

"Right now, classes are the only time I get space from them. As it is, one of them will be waiting at the door when class ends. I guarantee it."

He'd laughed, but she'd been right. They've started meeting her at her classrooms instead of on campus near one of the entrances. Rachel has had enough. She calls a family meeting in the living room. Once everyone is sitting, she stands in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips and stares at them seriously.

"I love you all. I know you love me. You have been a wonderful support system for me from day one, but especially here in New York in this wonderful new chapter of our lives. You're the family I couldn't have possibly dreamed up. You're amazing. Individually and together. But while we're family, we're all kids. All of us. We're all basically the same age."

"You're the baby." Noah says with a slight smirk.

"By a few months!" She snaps, her patience too thin for jokes. She takes a breath to center herself before going on. "You should be living life in New York City as the young adults you are. Enjoying yourselves, not playing nurse or caretaker to me."

"We don't mind."

"Yeah, we're happy to."

Rachel shakes her head. "That's not my point. I know you are. But I don't need it. Not 24/7. I get that you're worried. I'm worried, too. But we've never let that stop us from still living our lives and having a good time. Why has that changed now?"

They look around at one another uncomfortably. No one answers her. She has to actively unclench her jaw. A low ache starts thrumming in the back of her head. She ignores it. This conversation will not end until she has said her peace and they come to some sort of resolution. And she'll be damned if she acts ill and gives strength to their argument that she needs more care.

"I'm fine. I'm not healthy, but I won't be until I'm in remission. I will go into remission. I will do what I have to to get there. And I need your help. But not like this. I don't need minders and babysitters and nurses and caregivers. I need my friends. My family. That's it. I was understanding of your worry, but it's been weeks! I'm fine! We can go back to living how we were in the fall."

"But you're not." She turns to Kurt. "You're not doing what you need to do to get to remission."

Shocked, she actually takes a step back. How could he think— "Yes I do."

"No you don't. You went to class the day after getting out of the hospital."

"Because I felt fine."

"And yet you clearly weren't. It seems like you're no longer a good judge of how sick you actually are or what you actually need." Santana says bluntly.

She tosses her hands up. "How many times have I been perfectly fine, having a good day, only to faint or get a sudden migraine or an attack? These things happen! It doesn't mean I wasn't fine that day, it means something changed. I can't control that."

"You could rest more." Brittany says quietly.

Rachel feels like pulling her hair out and screaming. They're not getting it. "You're treating me like I'm…" she flounders for the right description. When it clicks, her heart plummets. Her posture and expression both sink with despair. "Like I'm stage four. Like I'm dying."

Their stricken expressions bring her little comfort. She doesn't want to upset them; she wants them to stop this overprotective nonsense.

"We're not!" Kurt argues hotly.

"You are." She responds just as fiercely. "What happened to having faith in me? What happened to believing I'm definitely going to get better?"

"You started getting worse!" She steps back, stung. Her brother continues. "You're still stage two, but your numbers dropped. You have new symptoms. Your old symptoms are getting worse. Your headaches are more frequent. The little weight you gained is already gone. Rachel, your torso is black and blue. Your mild attacks are more frequent. You seriously struggle to get up in the mornings. You're getting worse."

"Which is why we're scared and we feel like you need more care." Finn says quietly.

Rachel's stomach flips. Him, too? Betrayed, she turns away from him. "I'm still stage two. I'm still—"

"In denial." Noah says quietly. "And you don't even realize it."

For a moment, no one looks at her. The sudden silence is oppressive. Throat dry and heart thudding, Rachel's thoughts race. Are they right? It doesn't take her long to come back with a strong no. She's not in denial, they are losing faith in her. They're losing hope. And it crushes her. Her lips tremble with held back emotions. Finn stands and reaches for her. She shakes her head and steps away.

"Rachel—"

"No. I'm not in denial. I know I'm sick. I know I need….support. A little care from time to time. But I do not need the level of care that you all are shoving down my throat!"

"Yes you do."

"No I don't! So stop already! Back off!"

"We can't do that, Rach."

She presses the heels of her hands into her stinging eyes. "I need you to. It's what I need."

"It's what you want, it's not what you need."

Those words have been repeated to her by many people since she was first diagnosed. Mostly by adults. Hearing it from them, while they're so very wrong, is insulting. She's aware she's breathing faster and takes a moment to slow it down. This conversation is quickly spiraling out of her control.

"I—I don't—I really don't understand. I'm not as sick as you're all acting. I'm not in denial, I'm just living my life as best I can under tough circumstances. Just because I'm not staying in bed all day or crying over the possibility of not surviving doesn't mean I'm not aware of how sick I am. I face the facts, then I lift my head and spit in the face of my reality and keep going. I'm not going to just lie down and give up because of a possibility or because things suck right now."

"It sounds all inspiring when you put it like that, but you already inspire us. Just…..relax. Rest. You need to take it easy." Sam says softly.

Her eyes move from face to face. They're all in agreement. Against her. Santana clears her throat and stands.

"Berry…..I know I said that if you hit stage three I'd take you to Ohio myself. But…..if you're seriously still in denial and not taking care of yourself or letting us take care of you, then….maybe….maybe you should go back to Ohio sooner."

No one voices an objection to it. No one. They're sending her away. They're giving up. On her. Her heart shatters along with the last of her composure. Tears pour down her face. The jagged remains of her heart pierce through her shuddering chest. She's cold.

And alone.

In a room filled with people she loves with all her heart, she is alone. Finn stands again, guilt and concern battling for dominance on his face. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. Giving up on words, he reaches for her. She smacks his hand. Hard. The sharp sound of the slap resounds around the room. Their eyes widen in shock.

"Stay the fuck away from me. All of you."

Trembling, Rachel flies out of the room.

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