Chapter 4
He doesn't let go of her. The whole way home he has his hand on her back or is holding her hand. They walk in silence. She's holding herself together as best she can, not wanting to fall apart in public. When they get to their building, George is on duty. The doorman smiles happily at them.
"Good—" He cuts himself off as they get closer, realizing everything is not 'good'. He frowns in concern. "Mr. And Mrs. Hudson." He greets instead, far more tempered than how his initial greeting started.
Finn nods to him but Rachel can't even do that. The elevator ride up is just as silent and Finn keeps a hand on her back. They don't speak. Rachel's full focus is on not thinking because if she does think, she'll fall apart. They go into their apartment and lock the door behind them, sliding the bolt shut and latching the chain. Yero stays pressed against Rachel's leg, never straying from her side. Finn watches her. She stands in their living room staring around blankly, her breathing shaky. He walks up to her.
"I had the world in my grasp." She whispers, her eyes filling with tears. "I had everything I ever—" Her face crumbles and she falls into him. He wraps his arms around her and she begins to cry. "It's all gonna be torn away now, isn't it? Everything I fought for, everything I worked for….all of it. Gone."
"We don't know that."
She rears back, yanking herself out of his grasp. "The last time I relapsed Dr. Reed said that my odds of surviving were lower. He said that if it happened again then every time I'd relapse my odds would be lower. My odds were low last time and they'll be even lower this time!"
"But we don't know by how much!" Finn argues. "It could be a minimal difference. And you're strong and fit. You've been healthy for years, Rachel. Starting from a place of strength can only help your odds, not hurt them. Last time, you'd only had five months to catch a break. You didn't have time to get fully healthy and strong before relapsing. This time you did."
She wants to keep arguing with him, but sees the fear in his eyes. He's desperate for his interpretation to be correct. Arguing will only upset him more. They both take deep breaths.
"Maybe you're right." She mutters, giving in for his sake.
"Any symptoms?"
She uses the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. "No. Nothing I've noticed."
"You've been more tired lately." He cautiously points out.
"Wicked is far more physically demanding than Funny Girl was." But so much more fun. And now she can never perform in it again. The realization sucks the air from her lungs and starts a new wave of tears. "I will never again be able to perform as Elphaba." She stammers out.
She's done on Broadway. Finished. Her legs buckle. Finn catches her and lowers her to the ground. She buries her face in his chest and sobs hysterical tears. He rocks her, his own tears dripping onto the top of her head where he has buried his face. Husband and wife cry together, knowing everything is about to change.
Their world is crumbling around them and all they can do is cling to one another.
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"There's nothing we can do until you can call Dr. McCann tomorrow. We'll both call out of work in the morning." Finn tells her.
She nods, knowing he's right. Nothing can happen on a Sunday. She'll call for an appointment tomorrow morning. She's completely exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the afternoon. She started the day full of contentment and had her world flipped on its head. She had a mild attack. They both know what that means. They cried for a long time before calming down. Then Finn carried her to the couch where they're now curled up together.
"Want me to call our brothers? Bring them up here?" He offers.
"No. I want to wait until I have more information."
"Alright. I get it. I know you said you didn't notice any symptoms, but I need you to really think about it. There's nothing? You're sure?"
She leans forward, off of him, and presses her face into her hands. Behind her hands, her face is crumbling again. She takes a moment to compose herself. "Nothing. I got dizzy a month ago, but I'd just stood up too fast. I've had a few headaches, but nothing bad. I swear, Finn. I haven't noticed any symptoms or anything concerning. I would have said something."'
"I believe you." He rubs her back. "C'mon."
He takes her hand and guides her to their bedroom where they shut Yero out. Finn slowly takes her shirt off of her. At first, Rachel doesn't understand what he's doing. Then his fingers begin to caress her skin and his eyes scan every inch of her torso. He turns her so he can examine every inch of her upper body.
"You have two bruises."
"Bruising is normal. For anyone." It's not denial, it's just a fact. She looks down.
He turns her back to face him, his expression grim. "Attacks aren't."
She flinches. "I know that! I'm just—"
Again, tears fill her eyes. Finn pulls her to him and holds her close. She sniffles into his shirt. He pushes her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She's about to say that now isn't the time, but the look in his eyes stops her. Maybe he's right. Maybe they need this closeness right now. They both need the comfort that comes from intimacy. So she pulls off his shirt while he unbuttons her pants. They strip one another. Then Finn carefully inspects her entire body. He lets his fingers graze every inch of her. Then his lips follow the same path. Rachel struggles to focus on his gentle ministrations instead of her dark thoughts of her new reality. He does his best to distract her. He kisses, caresses, and licks all over. Normally she returns it, but at the moment, can't bring herself to do anything but lie on the bed and let her husband basically worship her body. When he finally presses his full weight down on her and enters her, her thoughts are only of him. They move together passionately, breathing hard and letting the feelings build. Tears slip down her cheeks even as they hit the brink of ecstasy and fall over the edge together. Still connected, they curl into one another. Rachel loves lying entangled with her naked husband, with him still inside her and her legs wrapped around him. They're pressed as tightly together as they can be. They both focus on the physical sensations of the moment, trying not to think of anything else.
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Dressed in clean clothes, Rachel walks into her living room and pets Yero. Her eyes drift to her Tony award. One solitary award on her shelf. They'd hoped the shelf would hold more in the future. Now it looks like it'll be the only one. Chances are, she'll never be able to perform on Broadway again. Not unless she miraculously goes into remission again or they come up with a cure. But they're still years away from a cure. Tears fill her eyes and her lips tremble. She turns away. She takes a deep breath. Finn is right. There's nothing they can do until she can get an appointment. She's sure Dr. McCann will get her in quickly.
The sun is setting. Rachel is still feeling off kilter from how her day has turned out. The last time she relapsed, she was devastated and fell into depression. But at the time, all she could think about was how she didn't want to go through the pain and fear and stress again. And she didn't want her loved ones to go through it either. This time, her first thoughts were of everything she's losing out on. Broadway. Children. A future. Growing old. It's all being torn away from her. She could be wrong, but she thinks the reason her initial focus was different this time is because those things were within her grasp. She was on Broadway. She and Finn had decided to try for kids in less than a year. She was so close to having everything she ever wanted. It was almost in her grasp. And now it's all out of her reach. Maybe just for a few months. Possibly for forever. She was so close to having it all. It hurts to suddenly be cut off from her hopes and dreams.
Now, though, with her initial tears out of the way, she thinks back to what it was like to be sick. The attacks. The fatigue. The bruises. The headaches and migraines. The nausea and vomiting. The dizziness. The bleeding. The shortness of breath. The weakness. The fear, uncertainty, and stress. She's going to have to go through it all again. And so will everyone who loves her. She's going to have to tell them all, first. Her mom. She takes in a shuddering breath, imagining having to tell her mother she's sick again. And her dad. Her brother. All of them. This is going to hurt all of them. She thinks of all of this and of everything she is losing and now may never get. Her heart feels like it has been wrapped in barbed wire and the wires are being pulled taut in opposing directions. Her heart is tearing and straining against its constrictions at the same time. Loss will do that, she supposes. Even if its just the loss of possibilities. She didn't realize she'd begun crying again until she's gasping for breath and arms wrap around her from behind. She turns in her husband's grasp and curls into him. She thought she was all cried out. She also thought she was done with this. She lets herself really cry, getting it all out of her system. The last time she was sick, she learned the hard way how bad it was to try to keep things bottled up. Finn rubs her back and soothes her. After a while, feeling calmer, she pulls back. He hands her a tissue.
"Thanks." He nods silently. "Most of this is going to fall on you, you realize. You're my husband. Are you—"
"Don't even ask me that." His response is borderline harsh.
She sighs tiredly. "Sorry. I know you're up for it. I just hate that it's mostly going to fall on you. The last two times it mostly fell on my mom."
"For months it was split over the rest of us." Finn points out. "It'll mostly be me and I'm happy to be your main support. Your anchor. But it won't just be me. We're still surrounded by family, Rach. We'll get through this together."
"Again." She chokes out.
"Again."
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They watched a movie to distract themselves. Finn stares at his wife from the corner of his eye and hates the look on her face. He hates the tension in her body. He hates knowing it'll get worse before it'll get better. She will get better. He believes that. She is strong and she is a fighter and she doesn't let go of her dreams. She'll get better again. He has to believe that. For both of their sakes. He goes back to pretending to watch the movie but his thoughts are a mess. She's sick again. That much is obvious. She had a mild attack. That's bad. She's been tired more often lately, but like she said, her show is more physically demanding. Without having many symptoms, he hopes that means they caught it early and they can get her back into remission quickly. He's startled when she stands up and leaves the room. He debates following her but decides to wait. He hears the clink of glasses in the kitchen and then she returns carrying an open bottle of wine and two glasses. She sets the glasses down and pours a generous amount into both. She picks up one and takes a long drink. He frowns.
"Rachel—"
"I don't wanna hear it. Pretty soon I will be on medication that prohibits the use of alcohol. Let me get drunk tonight."
He sighs but acquiesces. He picks up his own glass and sips. If she intends to get drunk, then he needs to stay sober. Thankfully she doesn't let herself get really drunk. In fact, she has only let herself get truly drunk once in her life. Her father being an alcoholic kind of ruined alcohol for her. She only drinks occasionally, in small amounts. Tonight, she just drinks enough to loosen up a little. More tipsy than drink. He leads her to bed and tucks her in.
"You'll be fine." He whispers to her. "We have a long life to live together, babe. I completely understand and support your wish to vent and drink tonight. It's deserved. But this is a war that I need you putting your all into. So get your shit together, because tomorrow we start fighting it together."
She blinks owlishly up at him. "Okay."
He kisses her lips.
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Rachel steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around herself. She wipes the foggy mirror and stares at her reflection. She relapsed. She's sick again. Her husband is prepared to fight once again, which means so does she. Like he said last night, they have a war to fight and she needs to give her all once again. She doesn't want to. God, she doesn't want to. Unfortunately, it's not a choice. Fight for a chance to live or give up and die. And she is too close to having everything she ever wanted to give up now. So she will fight. For her future. For her family. For her friends. For Finn. Last time, she made a promise to herself that she'd make it as easy as possible on her loved ones. She failed horribly. Every choice she made led to disaster. She still has the same wish, but now that she's a more mature adult, she knows she has to do it better; smarter. No denying how she feels, no lying, no hiding things. But she will do her best to keep her head up and smile through it all. It'll take a while. She won't be able to do that from the very beginning. It will take time. But once again, she'll keep her head up and a smile on her face. She has to believe that she will survive once again. She will do everything she has to in order to get better. That is what will make things easier on her loved ones.
She does her hair and gets dressed, then checks the clock. It's still early. She frowns lightly. It's early. Her doctors had been correct; she no longer jumps up at the crack of dawn every day. However, she does get up early frequently. Yes, she has had rough mornings over the past five years. Yes, she prefers to sleep in. But she doesn't always. Many mornings, she's perfectly fine to wake up early and start her day. Even today. She hopes this means it's caught early. She makes breakfast for herself and Finn. She hears him get up and call out for the day. The moment her doctor's office opens, she calls. As soon as her doctor heard that she had a mild attack the day before, he insisted she come in today. That's a relief. She calls Kevin and tells him something came up unexpectedly and she won't be in. He'd been surprised; she has never called out of a performance before. Then he became concerned. She did her best to brush it off and say she'll be in tomorrow.
They spend the morning lounging around. Eventually Rachel suggests they go grocery shopping. They do that and take Yero for a walk. They're on edge. They both know she relapsed; that much is obvious. But they don't know what stage she's in or have a plan for treatment. Until they can talk to her doctor in a few hours, they're in a sort of limbo.
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They drew her blood as soon as she checked in. They sat waiting in his office, as silent and still as statues. Dr. McCann enters and sits at his desk. He sets her (rather thick) file down and leans forward slightly.
"I know you know this because you had an attack yesterday, but you did relapse, Rachel."
She nods. "What stage am I?"
"Stage one."
"That's good, right? We caught it early." Finn says, his knee bouncing.
Dr. McCann doesn't immediately respond. "This is her third diagnosis of Danton's Aplastic Anemia. There's really no gentle way to say this…..there's nothing good about it. Even being stage one."
"What do you mean? If she's stage one, she just needs a few treatments and she could go back into remission, right? It's possible." Finn insists.
Hearing the edge to his voice, Rachel takes his hand and squeezes. Dr. McCann clears his throat.
"I see why you'd think that. But this is her third time fighting this. Her odds are lower this time."
"How low?" Rachel asks.
"At the moment, being stage one, you have a thirty percent chance of surviving."
"At stage one?!" Finn snaps, incredulous.
"Yes. If numbers continue to drop, her odds drop as well."
"So what's the plan this time?"
"Twice a week treatments."
"We're starting at twice a week?" Rachel's eyes bulge.
"I don't think you're understanding how precarious your situation is, Rachel. It is going to be harder to fight this time. We need to be aggressive. We'll start with two treatments a week for two weeks, then bring you back in. If your numbers have sufficiently gone up, we'll drop to once a week."
"And if they haven't?"
"Then we begin looking at a bone marrow transplant."
"This soon?"
Dr. McCann nods solemnly. "It's different this time, Rachel."
"B-but I-I'm I'm stronger this time. I've had five years of resting and exercising and I'm fit and strong and healthy! I'm starting from a place of strength." Finn's words from the previous day have been giving her hope. He was right. She's starting from a place of strength.
"But the foundation is cracked." The air is sucked from the room. "Your first two battles with this weakened you. We've discussed this before. But now, the most obvious way it has weakened you is by making it harder for your body to fight this. Only time will tell how hard it will be. But you need to expect and be prepared for it to be harder this time."
"The foundation is cracked." Rachel intones lowly.
"Yes. You put up nice new walls and modern furnishings and it looks great. But the foundation has a deep crack running through it. No matter how much stronger the rest of the house has become, it'll all come crumbling down if the crack widens."
"Let me guess. Relapsing again is widening that crack."
"Drastically."
Finn's fingers intertwine with hers. Husband and wife take a moment to swallow down their emotions and allow this news to settle. They'd talked yesterday and this morning. They both let themselves believe that since she's most likely only stage one, it should only take a few treatments to get her back to remission. That's what they were told last time she relapsed. And while that turned out to be wrong, they still expected the same response from the doctor. Not this.
"Do I have any hope of surviving?" She rasps out.
"Of course. I don't want you to get hung up on the thirty percent. You can still survive this."
"But it's thirty percent unless she gets worse. Then it'll drop."
"Correct. Which is why we will plan for the bone marrow transplant much earlier this time. If you drop to stage two we will go straight to it. We'll begin the initial process in a few weeks if you don't make sufficient improvement in that time." There's a moment of silence. "I'm sorry, Rachel. Finn. I truly wish I had better news. I hate that you have to face this again. I swear I will do everything in my power to help you survive and get back to remission. That's why we're starting very aggressive. Two transfusions this week and next. If there's improvement, we'll drop to once a week. If not, we'll insert a chest port and continue with two a week. If your numbers continue to drop, we'll start the bone marrow transplant. We'll discuss more of that later."
"But what—"
Finn questions the doctor further, but for Rachel it sounds muffled. Her heart is pounding in her chest. She feels too cold and too warm all at once. The walls are shifting as though threatening to close in on her. Her breathes come in short, sharp bursts. She releases Finn's hand and her fingers clench into fists in her lap. Again. But worse. Every time is worse. Thirty percent chance of surviving. That'll drop if her numbers drop. Bone marrow transplant. Crack in the foundation. There's a hand on her arm. It slides down until it's resting on her fist. She blinks. Her husband and doctor are watching her worriedly. Dr. McCann comes around his desk while removing his stethoscope from around his neck. He puts it in his ears and presses the end to her chest. Then he grabs a blister pack from his desk drawer. He tears off a single pill blister and sets it on top of his desk, on the edge near her.
"I know you well enough to know you're on the verge of panic, Rachel. Do you want to take a mild sedative?" A single tear slips down her cheek. She shakes her head no. "Okay. But I need you to try to calm down. I can't let you leave here on the verge of panic. Take some deep breaths. Take your time."
Another tear slips down her cheeks. She takes slow breaths. Finn holds one of her hands and uses the other to silently urge her to lean forward so he can rub her back. His thumb slowly caress her the back of her hand. She feels like her the muscles in her face are being pulled down by a heavy weight. More tears follow despite her efforts to keep them back. But they give her time. She takes deep breaths and calms herself down. She leans back in her seat. Finn doesn't let go of her hand.
"I know this is frightening and probably infuriating to have to go through again. Thirty percent survival is low, I'll admit. The odds aren't good. But Rachel, you have always beaten the odds. You have surpassed all of our wildest expectations. I don't think this time will be any different." He smiles kindly at her.
"I'm sure this is a given and I already know the answer but I need to hear it from you." She says in a slightly hoarse voice. "But I'm assuming I'm done on Broadway."
His face falls. "Yes. I'm so sorry. I mean, you can try for now, but there's the strong possibility of an attack coming at any time. So to be safe…..I wouldn't recommend it."
She nods. "I might need a note in order to break my contract months early."
"I'll write it up before you leave today." He promises solemnly. "Here's a script for your pills. Take them every day, Rachel. No skipping." He clearly knows about her major blunder years before. She nods seriously. She'll never make that mistake again. "And here's a list of clinics near you that you can call to schedule a treatment for. Try to get in either today or tomorrow for the first one so you can do the second one at the end of the week."
Rachel stares down at her lap while Finn looks over the paperwork he was handed. Dr. McCann quickly types up and prints the letter for her director and signs it. He hands it to her with an apologetic look.
"You were the best Elphaba I'd ever seen."
Tears fill her eyes but she manages to give him a wobbly smile.
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"We can call your mom when—"
"No."
"Rachel…"
"I'm not ready, Finn. We haven't even gotten home yet!" She wants to yell but is mindful of the taxi driver.
"You have to tell her."
"Of course I'll tell her. But I'm not telling her over the phone."
Finn stares at her, trying to read her. Then he nods. "Okay. What about the others? Like our family here?"
She turns to look at him. "Can you give me a day? To deal and accept my fate?"
He frowns. "Accept your fate?"
"I just mean accept the fact that I'm sick again and it's going to be hell for a while."
"Oh. Yeah." He tiredly runs a hand over his face.
When they get home she opens the pharmacy bag and stares at the pill bottle. Seeing the little blue pills again makes her want to puke. She sets them on the kitchen table and stares blankly at them. Finn sighs and picks up the list of clinics. He finds the closest one and calls to schedule her treatments.
"Rach, I know you want to wait, but this isn't something we can drag our feet on. He said it could move faster this time."
She frowns. "He did?"
Finn pauses. "That must have been when you were….kind of panicking and zoned out. But yeah. It could possibly move faster this time since it's the third time. Or, at least, your progression of symptoms could most faster. And he said while your tiredness could be from your show, it could be exasperated by your illness. So it might have been a symptom but might not have been. He said to expect symptoms to start coming faster now that you've had an attack."
"Great." She mutters sarcastically.
He leaves to call out of work for tomorrow while she starts dinner.
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They normally talk all through dinner. Tonight, conversation is subdued and stilted. They're both quieter than normal. Finn sees how tense she is, deep in her thoughts but trying not to be. Neither eat much of their dinner. They finally concede defeat and scrape the food into the trash. Finn puts their plates in the dishwasher while Rachel scrubs the pot. He's wiping down the table when he hears a quiet sob. He looks over at her. Her hands are gripping the edge of the counter in front of the sink, her body tense. Her shoulders shake and she leans on the counter more. He's not surprised. She's cried a lot, but still not nearly as much as he expected. He wraps his arms around her from behind. She sinks backwards into him, letting him support her. After a moment she turns in his arms so they're chest to chest. They share a long look that leads to a kiss. It quickly becomes more heated. They move without thinking, falling back on instinct. Their making out increasing in intensity. Caught up in the moment, he slams her against a wall, never breaking contact. He immediately pulls back, his eyes widening as he realizes that if she's sick again that means she'll be bruising more easily.
"I-I-I'm so sorry! You could bruise and—"
She shakes her head. "Bruise me."
He understands her meaning. He kisses her fiercely again. He lifts her, carries her into the bedroom, and tosses her onto the bed. He joins her and they pull each other's clothes off, only breaking apart when absolutely necessary. Once he's sure she's ready, he lays her on her back and enters her. Her legs wrap around his waist, taking him in deeper. After a few minutes, she takes control, flipping them over so she's on top. She keeps her hands on his chest as she rides him. But this position means they can't kiss, so Finn flips them back over and kisses her as they finish. He lays on top of her, arms around her, letting his body create a cocoon around his wife. He wants nothing more than to protect her from all of this. Since he can't, he'll be her anchor, her cocoon, or whatever she needs.
When Rachel begins crying again it's soft and gentle. Silent. He thinks it's a good sign. He thinks it means she's reaching a place emotionally where she feels stronger. He hopes. Finn kisses her lips lightly, repeatedly, until her lips curve into a soft smile and the tears stop. Then he kisses her firmly. She pulls back slightly and looks deeply into his eyes. She can read him as well as he can read her, so he's sure she can see his own pain and fear warring with his love and support. Rachel climbs on top of him and kisses him deeper. They make love again. When they're finished, she lays on top of him, chest to chest. She slides her hands along his arms until her hands find his and then she intertwines their fingers. Finn focuses on the feel of his wife's naked body on top of his, the feel of their joined hands, clasped tightly together. Her head on his chest. He can feel her breath tickle the sweaty skin of his chest. Her foot is slowly caressing his leg. They are utterly exhausted but in the best way possible. More than that, he can feel their love as though it's a tangible thing. It wraps around them and flows through them. He never wants to let go of this moment. He wants to ingrain every feeling and scent and emotion into his memory so he never forgets it.
"This is the only acceptable way to become this exhausted." Rachel says quietly, her breath skating along his skin.
Finn chuckles. "I was just thinking the same thing. Does that mean that any time you're tired you want to have wild sex until you're exhausted?"
Rachel laughs. "Interesting thought, but no."
"Oh, come on! You get tired at work, call me. I'll swing by and carry you into your dressing room. We'll fuck until you're shaking, then when people ask why you're tired, you can blame me! 'Is it because you're sick?' They'll ask. And you can say 'No, my husband just fucked me into next week. He's a beast!'"
Rachel smacks his chest, laughing. "Stop being crass."
He laughs as well, bringing his arms down to stroke her back. They both know that she won't be going back to work for a while, so he's glad she didn't get upset at him using it as part of his attempt to make her laugh. She slides up his body so she can look into his eyes. He has always found her beautiful, but in this moment, naked in his arms, skin flushed and shiny from passionate sex, hair tousled, and lips lightly swollen, she is gorgeous. His goddess. Even the hints of fear and sadness in her eyes can't detract from her beauty.
"I love you."
Her words are a drug coursing through his veins. He feels a warmth and a thrill run through him.
"I love you."
He hopes he can cause a similar feeling in her. From the way her expression changes and her eyes brighten, he believes he has. They will get through this. Together. Always together. Nothing will separate them, not even death.
That was their solemn vow.
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Her husband's love strengthened her. She feels it like a physical thing. She's terrified and furious that she has to go through this again. She fell apart more times than she can count in the past two days. But today she feels stronger. Because of Finn and his infinite well of love for her. She can beat this. She will beat this. With him by her side. She gets the feeling it'll be a hell of a battle, but now she's sure she'll win. With Finn by her side, her only option is to win.
She asked for a meeting with Kevin this morning, before her treatment. He'd agreed. Walking into the theater and knowing she may never again perform on this stage, or at least not again for a long time, hurts. Her heart clenches but her tears are done. She cried herself out and vented. Her pity party is over. Kintsugi. She will allow her loved ones to hold her together. They are her gold. That can only happen if she lets them and if she fights. So she lifts her head and prepares for battle. It'll hurt, it already hurts, but she can do it. He's waiting for her in his office.
"Good morning, Rachel." He's wary. She feels bad about that. And about what she's about to tell him.
"Good morning, Kevin. Thank you for meeting with me."
"Of course. What'd you need to discuss?"
She may be done sobbing for now, but tears still well in her eyes. She swallows them back, but not before Kevin saw them. "I am ending my contract early."
He blinks and leans back in his seat. "What? Why?"
Her smile is tremulous. "I love playing Elphaba. I love this show so much and I love the cast. I hate that it has to be this way. Please understand this isn't my choice."
"Then why—"
"I relapsed." She hands him the letter from Dr. McCann. "This is from my doctor explaining that I am now stage one with Danton's Aplastic Anemia. If I just had AA, I could still perform for a while, but maybe less shows a week. But I have Danton's. That means that at any moment I could get an attack of intense or agonizing pain. That makes performing impossible."
For that reason, she knows she should have brought Yero with her. However, as stupid as it is, and as much as Finn disagreed with her, she doesn't want to start bringing him with her everywhere until at least after her first treatment. Finn feared it was a sign she was slipping into denial. Rachel feels she's just giving herself another day or so to ease into her new life. Despite not being happy about it, Finn backed off. Mostly because this will be a short meeting and she'll be going right home after. Kevin reads the letter quickly then looks up at her. She lets him see how upset she is about leaving.
"Rachel—" He trails off.
"This has been the best experience of my life and I hate that it's coming to a sudden end so soon after it started. I only had six months of being Elphaba. But I loved every moment of it."
"I'm so sorry. Of course I'll release you from your contract. Do you want to tell the others yourself or do you want me to?"
"Actually, can you hold off? Right now, only my husband knows. I'm telling my brothers tonight. I need to tell the rest of my family first. Then I'll have my agent put out a formal announcement of my departure from Broadway. For now, can you just say I'm out sick?"
"Absolutely. Whatever you need. And please know that you have a role waiting for you when you get better."
Her lips tremble and her eyes water again. "Thank you."
"Of course. You have done amazingly here. When do you start treatment?"
"Today."
"I'll pray for your quick recovery."
"Thank you, Kevin."
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"Sorry ur sick, esp so close to five year mark. Hopefully it won't last long. We'll postpone our celebratory dinner for when ur feelin better"
Rachel stares at the text message from Jesse and has to blink to understand his meaning. Then realization sinks in and she sighs. He doesn't know she relapsed, but he and the rest of the cast were told that she's out sick, as in a cold or something. They'd planned their celebratory dinner for a few weeks before her actual anniversary so that it wouldn't interfere with her family plans. Not that she knows what or when they were supposed to be. She slides the phone over to Finn for him to read.
"He's right, even if he doesn't know how right he is." She says. "I relapsed weeks before my five year mark."
"You were still in remission for five years, Rachel." Finn points out. "Being a few weeks short doesn't change that."
"But I'm not in remission anymore. I relapsed. I'm sick again. So there's no point celebrating anymore."
"I suppose." A peculiar looks crosses his face and he leaves the room.
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Finn shuffles through the paperwork in his desk drawer before pulling out a file folder labeled "5th". He'd hoped that if for some reason Rachel saw it, she'd think it was regarding his 5th period class. And in fact, he has file folders for his other classes, similarly labeled, in the drawer as well. It blended in, hiding in plain sight. He opens it and stares at the paperwork for the party. They'd gone overboard. They were making it a big deal, because it was a big deal. Five years of being in remission. It was supposed to be a huge celebration. In a blink, the reason for the party is gone. He's right that she still had five years of being in remission and that should be celebrated. But Rachel is also right that she's no longer in remission, so celebrating doesn't make sense. And if she's not comfortable celebrating how long it lasted, then he won't push her.
He's going to have to call these companies and cancel everything. His vision blurs. His breathing becomes harsher. She came so close. They came so close to their happily ever after. Just to have it yanked out from under them. The paperwork taunts him. Finn violently hurls the folder across the room. The folder smacks against the wall with a loud thwack and the papers slip out, fluttering to the floor.
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Watching the needle slide into her arm is depressing. This will be twice a week for at least two weeks. She thought she was done with this entirely. Then she reminds herself that she needs to truly fight this, so she blinks away her tears and strikes up conversation with Finn. When it ends, she's woozy and tired but otherwise fine. She rests on the couch at home, flipping through the channels on the tv. When she feels better, she sends her brothers a text to invite them to dinner. Seeing that they accepted, she plans a nice meal and immediately gets to work.
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Since they get together frequently, the Hummel-Andersons don't think anything of the dinner invitation from the Hudsons. Tuesday is her day off, anyway. The four enjoy a nice dinner at the Hudson's home. After eating, they move to the living room. Rachel sits on the couch, leaning against the arm. Finn sits next to her. Kurt and Blaine sit on the adjacent love seat. They chat casually for a few minutes, but Kurt quickly realizes that Rachel is acting a little odd. He calls her out on it.
"Out with it."
"What?" She asks innocently.
Kurt shakes his head; half in amusement and half in exasperation. "Seriously? I know you too well. Sooo…..out with it."
Rachel smiles slightly, but it doesn't last. She looks her brother in the eye. "It's back."
Kurt and Blaine both freeze.
"What?" Not because he doesn't know what she's talking about, but because his brain is refusing to accept it. She can tell he is desperately hoping he misheard.
Rachel shifts in her seat. Finn grabs hold of her hand. "The aplastic anemia is back again. I'm stage one."
"Oh, god. Rachel…..I'm so sorry." Blaine moves towards her, his expression pained.
She stands as well and he sweeps her up into a tight hug. She sits back down while Finn and Blaine embrace. Kurt remains sitting. He is frozen, staring at her, silent tears slipping down his cheeks. Her husband and brother-in-law share a look.
"We'll be in the kitchen." Finn says quietly.
She nods, eyes still on Kurt. He squeezes her shoulder as he passes. Blaine does the same for his husband. Rachel curls her legs under her and leans on the arm of the couch.
"Kurt." He takes a shuddering breath and blinks. She reaches across and places her hand on his. "I'll be okay."
He stands suddenly and moves to sit beside her. She leans into him as he wraps his arms around her. "Yes, you will be."
He's crying, but trying to reign it back in. Seeing how upset he is causes a few tears to leak from her eyes as well.
"I'm so sorry, Tink." She can't help but smile at the childhood nickname. He doesn't use it often anymore. "You know I'm here for you."
"Never doubted it, Pan."
Kurt looks at her closely. "You seem…..calm. I mean….sad, but calm."
She shrugs. "I wasn't. I completely fell apart for like two days. And I'll admit, I am depressed. I came so close to having everything I ever wanted. Now…..who knows? I might get it all later, but I might not. It hurts. But Finn has been my rock. My anchor. And I keep thinking of how Sue helped me handle my last relapse. She thought I should see the five months of remission as a nice break. A chance to catch my breath before round two. It was a challenge, but I managed it. Looking at it that way helped. This time, I've had five years. And look at everything I've done in those five years. I finished college. I got married. I starred on Broadway as the lead in two of my favorite shows. I won a Tony. I moved into an amazing apartment. A lot of my family lives nearby and we're all still close. I had five amazing years to enjoy my life. And I fully intend to beat this and get my happily ever after."
Kurt's face had softened through her speech and by the end he is smiling softly. "You are amazing. I hate that you have to go through this again."
"Me, too. I'm furious. And scared. But I'm not going through it alone. And I know I'll survive it again."
"Of course you will." Kurt responds firmly.
At that point their husbands return. Finn sets down a tray of mugs. "We decided to be productive while standing in the kitchen." Blaine hands one to everyone.
"How long have you known?"
"Dr. McCann confirmed it yesterday."
"You weren't alone when you were told, were you?" Blaine asks in concern.
"No, Finn was with me."
"Who else knows?"
"Just you two and Kevin."
Kurt's eyes widen. "You haven't told your mom?"
"This isn't something you tell over the phone, Kurt!"
He deflates. "You're right, sorry."
"When are you going to tell her?" Blaine asks.
Rachel and Finn share a look. Finn answers for her. "Soon. But we haven't decided exactly when yet. Or how."
Kurt nods. "This is going to kill her."
Rachel clenches her jaw and swallows. He's right.
"What about your other parents?" Blaine asks.
"I don't know. I figure we'll go down and talk to my mom first. Then talk to dad."
"Are you going to tell both parents together or separately?"
Rachel sighs. "I really have no idea. On the one hand, I don't want to repeat this conversation any more than I have to. So for my sake, I'd like to do it all at once. But on the other hand, I think that both sets of parents deserve to be told separately."
"Just….don't wait too long to tell them." Kurt advises.
"We know." Finn says. "They're already going to be upset about not being told immediately."
Kurt takes a sip of his tea and immediately spews it out. He jumps up, spitting the last of the tea out and spluttering. Everyone else stands in alarm as well.
"Fuck!" Kurt shouts. He ignores everyone's questions about his wellbeing and rounds on Finn and waves the mug in his face. "What the hell is this?"
Finn steps back, wide-eyed, his hands instinctively going up in surrender. "Uh….t-tea. A-a-and I r-remembered that you like adding some extra spices to yours, so I…I tried to add them myself."
Kurt wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stares incredulously at his stepbrother. "Congratulations. This is the worst tasting beverage I've ever had. You're banned from making tea."
Blaine snorts. Rachel grins. Suddenly seeing the ridiculousness of the situation, all four laugh for a minute. Rachel grabs some cleaning supplies from the closet.
"You made a mess on my couch." She accuses.
"Blame your husband. Never let him touch a kettle again."
Once the mess is cleaned up, and the remaining tea poured down the sink, they take their seats again. Moment of humor gone, they return to the matter at hand.
"How did you find out you had it again?"
Rachel grimaces and looks down. Finn answers for her. "She had a mild attack on Sunday."
Kurt and Blaine pale, faces falling even more. "So it's definitely Danton's again?"
Rachel nods. "I'd forgotten how painful they are. Even just the milds. I think…I think after getting moderate and severe attacks so regularly, that while mild attacks were painful, they didn't seem too terrible. But after years of no attacks….I was lulled into a false sense of security. I forgot just how painful they are."
Kurt squeezes her tighter.
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She can't call her mom. She'll break down again and end up telling her over the phone, which would be terrible. That can't happen. Instead, she sends a text message.
"Hey, Finn and I were thinking of coming down this weekend for a short visit. Would we be interrupting anything?"
She asks it like this, even knowing that if they did have anything planned they'd most likely drop it to accommodate their visit. The fact that she has remained her mom's #1 priority over the years, into adulthood, makes her feel warm and loved. She hopes it doesn't backfire now by hurting her mother too much.
"Not at all! We'd love to have you visit! Just for the weekend?"
"Yeah, we'll come down on Friday and head back on Sunday."
"Sounds great! Looking forward to it!"
Rachel's gut twists. Her mom added smiles and heart emojis after her message. She's clearly expecting good news. This is going to break her mother's heart. She drops her head onto the table with a groan.
"Rach?"
She shows him her text messages with her mother. He sighs. "Yeah, that sucks. But babe, there was no other way for you to phrase it without either lying or telling her the truth over the phone. This was the only way."
"I know. I just hate that this is going to blindside her."
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Shelby smiles widely at her phone, eagerly rereading the message from her daughter. A surprise visit on a weekend. Fridays and Saturdays are Rachel's busiest days, so it must be something major for her to drop those days to come visit randomly. And it's only a couple weeks before the big surprise party for Rachel's remission milestone. She knows they were planning on waiting for kids, but she also knows Rachel has been talking about not waiting quite so long. Last they spoke of it, Rachel said they'd try for kids in just a few months. Well, maybe God had other plans and gave her an early start to motherhood.
Shelby thrums with excitement and happiness all day, practically bouncing with every step at work. She feels giddy. Her life is so incredibly good these days. Damn near perfect. She has a handsome and loving husband. She has a beautiful house that they're talking about renovating. She loves coaching show choir and mostly enjoys teaching English. She's close to her family and loves them all and they're all doing really well. But best of all, her daughter is healthy, has been in remission for five years, is a Tony award winning Broadway actress, has a loving husband, is surrounded by friends who are another family, and is happier than she's ever been. And now, Rachel may be a mother in less than a year. Meaning Shelby may be a grandmother soon. Just imagining spending the holidays cuddling her baby grandchild while her daughter and son-in-law watch on with happy smiles and her husband eagerly waits his own turn to hold them makes her want to start crying with joy.
She can't wait.
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Avoiding her other family in New York for the rest of the week is hard. She even limits phone conversations and text messages with them, claiming to be busy. She's too afraid she'll slip up and tell them. Her parents deserve to know next. Then she'll tell the rest of her family next week. And, just maybe, she'll have good news from Dr. McCann by that time and can reassure them that things are already going well. She hopes. She prays. But she's not holding her breath.
Her brothers have been making excuses to spend time with her this week. She understands and she honestly doesn't mind. She doesn't want to be alone right now. On Friday, she simply walked into their apartment and sat on their couch and hung out with Blaine until he had to go to work. Then Kurt came home to work the second half of the day from home. He worked and she read a book. She only left long enough to pack bags for her and Finn for the weekend, then returned. They'd wanted to go with her to her treatment the night before, but she gently turned them down. For the first week, she wants it to just be her and Finn. She promised to let them come next week.
When Finn gets home from work on Friday, they head straight to the airport. Rachel thought ahead and asked Scott to pick them up from the airport. Since her mom had VA practice anyway, it worked out. Scott wouldn't expect them to share any news before getting home while her mother would press for details and quickly pick up on something being off. This makes things easier. Rachel and Finn smile and act casual when greeting Scott. Finn immediately dives into a conversation about work and pulls Scott into it for most of the drive. That saves Rachel from having to talk and risk lying or revealing anything. She spends most of the drive petting Yero and listening, only adding a comment here and there. Her mom is already home when they get to the house. Rachel puts on her most excited smile and immediately throws her arms around her mom. Then she pulls back and quickly hurries up the stairs.
"We'll freshen up and use the bathroom then be back down!" She calls over her shoulder.
"Okay!"
Her mom's eyes are glittering with excitement. When Rachel makes it to the top of the stairs she can hear her mom telling Scott that pregnant women have to use the bathroom more frequently. Her heart drops. Finn, having heard it as well, presses a hand to her back in comfort. They walk into Rachel's old bedroom and shut the door behind them. Rachel drops her bag and steps into Finn's arms.
"I can't do this. I can't break her heart like this. I can't." The words pour out of her frantically.
Finn grabs her upper arms and catches her eyes. "Hey, just breathe. Take some breaths, okay? Let's think this through."
She takes some deep breaths to calm herself, then nods to him. "Okay. I obviously need to tell her the truth. Tonight. And I can't sugarcoat it."
"No, but you can say it gently. Maybe start by saying you're not pregnant."
She nods slowly. "That's a good idea."
"Alright, we have a plan. Are you ready?"
She stares up at him with wide eyes. "No."
His expression softens. "Rachel—"
"I know, just…..just give me a minute."
She walks around the room literally trying to shake off her nerves. Yero paces with her. He hasn't strayed from her side much this week. She's not sure if it's because he himself was throw by the attack and remembers how things used to be or if he senses her emotional distress. She's been calmer the past few days, but now the stress of telling her mother is shaking up her emotions. Knowing she will never actually be ready for this conversation, Rachel sighs and leads them back downstairs. Her parents are sitting on the couch talking about their day. They smile brightly at the couple as they enter the room.
"Feel better?"
No. "Yes."
"Good. So, I'm absolutely thrilled to have you visit any time you want, but was there a special reason?"
"Or," Scott interjects, giving her mother a look, "did you just need a break from the city?"
"Uh, no. We had a reason." Rachel admits. Her mom gives Scott a triumphant look before turning to Rachel expectantly. Her heart clenches. "I'm sorry." It's the only way she can think to start this conversation. "I know you're probably expecting to hear that I'm pregnant, but I'm not."
Just for a moment, her mom's expression falls. Her disappointment is obvious. But then she shakes it off and smiles once again. "I did kind of think that, I'll admit. But I also know you said you want to wait a little longer, so I'm not too surprised. You've only been with Wicked for six months and you don't want to leave so soon. I get it. So what's your real reason for visiting?"
Rachel's stomach twists. "You're right. I don't want to leave Wicked anytime soon. But I have to. I relapsed, Mom."
The looks on her parent's faces has her gripping Finn's hand. She hates this. She hates that she's doing this to them. She fights to keep her own expression calm.
"You—no." Scott recovers first.
"Y-I—but—" Her mother stammers, her face slowly paling as reality sinks in. Her mouth continues to move but no more sound emerges. She's taking in short breaths and gripping Scott's hand as tightly as Rachel is gripping Finn's.
"I'm stage one. I'm sick again and it's definitely Danton's."
Her mom's hands fly to her mouth, catching a sob. Scott is blinking repeatedly and clearing his throat.
"It's back? You're sick?"
"It's back." She confirms.
Despite her head shaking 'no' repeatedly, her mom stands. Rachel follows suit, stepping into her and hugging her tight. Her mom's arms wrap around her in a fierce embrace. Her body shakes with quiet sobs. Rachel lets her rock them slowly. She's proud of herself for not falling apart right now. From the other sounds in the room, she figures that Scott is hugging Finn. After a while, she both hears and feels her mom start pulling herself together. When she pulls away, her mom looks like she aged ten years. A lump forms in Rachel's throat.
"I'm so sorry, baby girl. I'm so sorry." Her mom strokes her hair.
Even though her lips tremble, she manages to refrain from crying. "At least this time, my remission lasted five years and not just a few months."
Her mom cups her face. "I'm glad you're looking at the bright side. But right now, I need to know the facts."
Scott pulls Rachel into a long embrace as well and kisses her forehead when they part. They sit down, this time with Rachel sitting between her parents. Rachel and Finn walk them through everything, leaving nothing out. They ask questions and the younger couple does their best to answer with their currently limited information.
"I'll come to New York to help you with your two treatments this week."
"Mom, I have my husband, brothers, and other family in New York. I'm not going through this alone."
"But—"
"Mom. I swear, if I need extra support, Finn or I will reach out. If you want to visit, just to visit, you can. Just arrange it with us first."
"I will take care of her, Mom." Finn says seriously. "I swear."
"I know you will, Finn. I just—"
"You're used to being her main caregiver. I get it. But now I am." Finn says firmly but lovingly.
It's obvious her mom isn't completely thrilled about it, but she nods. "Okay."
She sniffles and reaches for a new tissue. Rachel feels bad, knowing this is just the start of her mother's tears. And there isn't anything she can do to comfort her. The four talk for a little longer, but they're all exhausted and it's late. And they have to have this talk all over again tomorrow with their other set of parents. Their goodnight hugs are longer than usual. Once they're in bed, Rachel can hear her mom crying in her own bedroom. Finn rubs her back.
"Try to sleep, babe. Tomorrow will be another emotional day."
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Her bitter anger feels like a burning bile creeping up her esophagus. The fact that her daughter is back to getting attacks makes the pain sharpen. She really thought she'd be hearing that she'd be a grandmother soon. Not be told that her daughter is sick and fighting for her life again. She curls into her husband and cries.
"She'll be okay, Shel." He whispers.
She nods. "She shouldn't have to go through this again!"
"I know. But she is."
"I want to help."
"I know you do, but they're adults now. They're 23, married, and have other people around to support them. We don't even live in the same state."
"We could—"
"Shelby. If things…." He takes a deep breath. "…..if things get really bad, of course we'll head up there and stay for as long as they need or want. We'll visit when we can. But we also need to respect that they're calling the shots now, not us. We will support them both however we can. But I don't think barging in, demanding visits, giving unsolicited advice, or trying to take over will help them."
"I wouldn't—"
"Shel…..you'd do it out of love and concern, and they'd know that, but you would. It's like Finn said; you're used to being Rachel's primary care giver. You're not anymore. Now, you can step back and just be her mom. Be her comfort. Let Finn and the others take care of her. We'll visit when we're invited or asked to come help. You known she'll talk to you every day again."
"This is going to be so hard on her, Scott. She's losing her career and way of life."
"Just until she goes into remission again."
Shelby's face crumbles. "I hate that she has to go through this again."
"Me too."
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Rachel smiles while listening to Finn and his mom talk. They're waiting for Dad to get home from the shop, then they'll share the news. This time, Rachel asked Finn to be the one to say the words. He agreed. The three talk happily for a while until they hear the front door open.
"Hey, guys! Sorry it took so long. We're overloaded at the shop and I had to make sure they had everything they needed to finish today before leaving."
"It's fine, Dad." Rachel says, hugging him. "We were just catching up."
"Yeah, you know, you could call more. Both of you." He chides gently.
"We talk every week!"
"It could be more, just saying."
"Oh, leave them be, Burt."
He settles in his favorite recliner with an appreciative sigh. "So, what brings you two back to Lima all of a sudden?"
This is the first time Finn has to say the words. His Adam's apple bobs. "We needed to tell you something in person. We were at a farmer's market last weekend and Rachel had a mild attack. She relapsed. It's back."
Both parent's eyes snap over to Rachel. She nods.
Carole immediately pulls her into a hug. "I can't believe you're sick again after all this time. I thought—"
"Yeah, so did I."
Her dad gently pulls her from Carole's arms and into his own. "I'm so sorry, princess."
His embrace is warm and steady and yet his breathing is different than usual. Different enough that she knows he's battling his own emotions. He always did do his best not to cry in front of his kids. She curls into him, feeling twelve years old again. The parents hug Finn, too, offering him comfort. They sit and go through the information they have and discuss the plan. Both parents offer to come up to New York whenever they need, just as their other parents did.
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Burt Hummel stands in his garage on Sunday morning. The kids had stayed for a while. They shared everything they knew and answered every question they could and promised to get the answers to the questions they couldn't answer. They'd reassured the kids that they'll do whatever they need to help out, even if its just a safe place to vent or a shoulder to cry on. After they left, the parents discussed what they can do to help them. They know Finn will never willingly step away from his wife's side. They discussed how to help Finn stay emotionally and physically strong through this. His heart is breaking. His kid suffered so much for years. Then she had years of health and happiness. But now she'll be back to pain and fear and suffering. And he hates it. Finn was by her side through all of it, but was never her primary caregiver. Now he is. That's a lot to handle. Burt knows this from personal experience. He realizes it's a conversation he'll have to have with his stepson soon.
He stalks through the empty garage, pausing at the waiting area. There are now four posters up on the walls. Next to the Funny Girl poster is a poster of the show Blaine is in. Next is a poster of the upcoming show Kurt is rehearsing for. And the last poster is of Wicked, with Rachel posing as Elphaba. He'd even convinced her to sign her two posters, making her laugh. He stares at them and swallows hard. She dreamed of Broadway her entire life. The whole time he knew her she talked about it. She has worked her butt off for years; voice lessons, dance lessons, acting lessons, summer theater programs, summer community shows, choir in middle school, show choir in high school, lessons with Shelby, and of course, her own independent practice. Then she really excelled and improved during her tutelage at NYADA. Landing her first Broadway role, before even graduating, had been a huge success and she was over the moon. It was successful and she even won a Tony. Then she landed the role of Elphaba and talked to him frequently about how much fun it is and how much she enjoys it. She frequently called it the best experience of her life over the past six months. And now it'll all stop. At least until she goes into remission. But they don't know how long that'll take. If she responds well to treatments, it may only be a few short months. If she doesn't and they go with a bone marrow transplant, she'll be off the stage for over a year. She'll be out of commission for a long time.
She had everything going for her and she deserved it all. To have it all yanked away must have been traumatizing for her. He thinks of the few tears she let slip out yesterday when telling them everything. She's holding up pretty well, all things considered. He knows he needs to vent so that he can be as calm and collected as he wants to be. As she needs him to be. He walks into his office and thinks about her asking him to walk her down the aisle in this room. He thinks of how happy they were.
Burt doesn't realize what he's done until the pain registers. He'd heard the loud bang and crack as though from a distance. Then he'd blinked and had been staring at a hole in his office wall. His hand hurts. He stares down at it. His hand is clenched into a fist, with bits of plaster sticking to it. Beads of blood well up on his swelling knuckles and he sighs. Carole's not going to be happy.
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They tell the rest of their family throughout the following week. They called those who don't live in New York and told them over the phone. Those who do live nearby they told in person. Everyone was shocked. She'd had zero symptoms or shown any signs of relapsing. The things she was dealing with were things that were expected; things she'd been dealing with for the past five years. The only change was being more tired, but everyone assumed that it was from the new show, including Rachel herself. Beyond their own personal feelings, everyone swore they'd be by her side just as they were last time. They also started working out a schedule of who could be with her when, so that she's never alone. Rachel accepted this without comment. While she hadn't wanted to be alone last week, now that it's settling in she's realizing she's back to losing her privacy and independence. She hates it but won't fuss. She knows it's necessary and loves that they're once again willing to do whatever it takes to support her.
While they did tell everyone that she relapsed, she only gave details to Santana and Brittany and even then it was only because Santana demanded to know every little thing the doctor said. And Rachel only gave in because San was borderline hysterical. For everyone else, she kept it short and simple. She relapsed. She's sick again. It's Danton's. She swore she'd tell them more after she has more information. Since the benefit is coming up and everyone goes to that, the group made plans to extend their normal Lima stay by an extra few days. That way they can be "debriefed" and spend time with her together as a group.
Knowing she'll once again have her loved ones rallying around her to support her is comforting. The fact that it's needed is heartbreaking and infuriating, but she's working through those negative feelings and trying to focus on the positive. She's had five amazing years. Well…..one good year, one great year, and three amazing years if she's being specific. She's lucky. She had the time (and health and energy) to achieve most of her dreams. And if she'd achieved all of her dreams, she'd be dealing with this life threatening illness while also taking care of a baby. That would be absolute hell. So would knowing she could potentially leave her baby motherless. So in a way, she's glad she never got the chance to get pregnant. And, she reminds herself, there's still a chance she could go into remission again and have kids in the future.
Rachel is accepting reality but she's also won't give up. Not now that everything she dreamed of is within her reach.
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