FULL SUMMARY: What if Rachel was lying in 'Showmance' when she said she didn't have a gag reflex? In reality, she is a bulimic who refuses to accept that there's something wrong. No one notices for months. After the events in 'Home', Kurt and Mercedes realize that there is more to Rachel Berry than she lets on. But Rachel is so far gone that she doesn't accept anyone's help, which may be her greatest downfall.

A/N: Okay, people! Again, a story that literally popped into my head! I was watching 'Home', and I remembered that Rachel briefly tried throwing up in 'Showmance'. I thought 'What would happen if she was lying?' which led to 'Kurt and Mercedes went through a kind of crash-diet … What if they noticed something?' And, here it is!

This chapter is a spoiler for 'Showmance'. All of the dialogue is from the episode. The rest of the story happens after 'Home' and is AU afterwards.

Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, would I really be writing this? Well, maybe, but that's not the point. I don't own Glee, so just enjoy the story.

SINKING

Prologue

Rachel ran into the bathroom, her stomach aching. She felt sick. Tears threatened to fall from her red eyes. As she entered the stall, she brought her quivering hand away from her mouth, dropping to her knees.

You're fat, said a voice inside of her. The voice that had become Rachel's best friend. Like a good friend does, the voice told Rachel the truth, giving advice when needed. It laughed at her when she fell, but it was these remarks that helped her rise to the top again.

You're sick; you eat too much, the voice told her now. Rachel's empty stomach churned in agreement. No wonder no one likes you. But don't worry; this helps you look better. And high school and life beyond that – Broadway – are all about looks.

Feeling nauseous, Rachel gagged and hacked into the toilet, her hands grasping the seat. Nothing came up but her own saliva. She was dispelling her nerves, not trying to vomit. But as the voice went on and her stomach fat weighed her down, Rachel felt that she needed to throw up.

Before she could do so, the door to the store creaked open. "Rachel? Did you just throw up?" The brunette froze, halting in her nervous habit. The only thing that ran through her mind was: Shit. Shit. SHIT!

Feeling embarrassed at being caught, Rachel refused to look behind her. However, she recognized the voice. It was Ms. Pillsbury, the guidance counselor. Shit.

"No," Rachel replied, her voice shaking. Good job, fatso! You got caught! When will you learn to check the stalls first?

She gazed into the toilet, trying to think of an excuse. She could say she wasn't feeling well. Or that she had food poisoning. You're a terrible liar. She'll see right through you.

Then what do I do? Rachel asked.

Tell the truth, but leave out some parts. No one has to know. Even though it's obvious how much you need to lose weight, piggy.

"You missed the toilet," Ms. Pillsbury said quietly. For the first time, Rachel noticed the vomit on the floor beside the toilet. Had she done that without noticing? Say something! Before you make the situation worse.

"The girl who was throwing up before me left that." Good! No one has to know just how fat you are, that you're doing this. But Rachel still wasn't sure where that vomit came from.

Lie about throwing up! the voice demanded. You're not off the hook yet! Put a little truth in there; make it believable.

"I tried, but I guess I just don't have a gag reflex," Rachel added. No gag reflex? That's the best a whale like you can come up with?

"One day, when you're older, that'll turn out to be a gift." Rachel was momentarily relieved. The counselor had bought it. That soon changed as the redhead went on, "Let's have a little chat, okay?"

Ms. Pillsbury led Rachel to her office. The entire way, Rachel was panicking on the inside. What do I do? She's going to make me stop, and I'll be fat again.

You're already fat, the voice jeered. Play it by ear. Pretend you're new at this. Play innocent. Don't let her make you any fatter than you already are.

Rachel, heart pounding, took a seat across from Ms. Pillsbury. She kept her expressions calm, but she still had the look of guilt on her face.

Ms. Pillsbury handed Rachel a pamphlet. The brunette took it, pretending to read the back. Look like you care. Look like you know something's wrong. Play this right, and you'll get away.

"Rachel, bulimia is a very messy, serious disease."

Yes, it is, the voice agreed. It's a real way to get rid of fat. But it's not a disease. What you're doing isn't wrong. You're losing weight; that's all that matters.

Rachel placed the pamphlet on the desk. "I don't have bulimia." Say a half-truth! Make it believable! "I tried, failed, and won't ever attempt it again."

That's right, because you know how it works. You won't 'attempt' it. You'll 'do' it.

"Okay." Ms. Pillsbury didn't seem to believe her. Rachel remembered what she'd thought the first couple of times she'd thrown up.

"It grossed me out," she added. Excellent! You need to appear weak to outsmart her, although you'll have to do better than that, fatty.

"Okay. But I still want to talk about the feelings that you had that led up to you wanting to puke your guts out."

This is your chance! Change the subject, fatso, before she realizes what you're doing.

"I wanna be thinner. Prettier like that Quinn girl." Too much, piggy. You're hopeless. Might as well gain back all that fat now.

No! Rachel panicked. I can do better!

"Mmhmm. And why is that?" You've got another chance. Don't mess it up.

"Have you ever loved anyone so much that you just wanna lock yourself in your room, turn on sad music, and cry?"

Laying it on a little thick, huh, fatso? You're so pathetic. Now you'll have to follow Finn around like the waddling dog you are, just to make this believable.

As much as the voice was right, Rachel was thankful that the subject had changed to boys. She went through the rest of the meeting easily, putting on a show that the voice made fun of her for. Luckily, Ms. Pillsbury did most of the talking.

When Rachel was dismissed from the room, she automatically felt a lot better. She had gotten away.

Not if you get caught again, you whale. You've got to step up your game if you want to lose all of that blubber.

The first thing Rachel did was go to the bathroom. She made sure she was alone this time before sticking her fingers down her throat.

And there's the prologue! I'm sorry if I didn't get the thoughts of a bulimic right; I have never had an eating disorder.

Review and let me know if I did okay!