A/N – Hello everyone! I'm trying out something new. I was wary of starting another multi-chapter story while still writing Changed for the Better, but I'm doing it. I can't get this out of my head and I want to write it. Please give tons of credit to mione1 (that's the tumblr name; I don't know your FF name) for bringing this idea to the forefront of my mind. I thought about something like this ages ago and let it go, but I'm glad it was mentioned to me again because I'm really intrigued by how this could play out.

Don't worry, there will still be regular updates of Changed for the Better as well (although I know I'm behind right now). That story isn't going anywhere for a while.

As for this story, it takes place right after Sectionals in the first season. I'm using the birth date the show gave us which means Rachel was 14 when it started and turned 15 that December. I'm also ignoring some of the stuff that came later like Rachel's veganism and things like that. Please leave a review and let me know what you all think of this. Thank you, guys! You're all the best, you know!

Disclaimer – I don't own Glee. I could never put my name on some of the stories they've given us recently. Ever.

The morning sunshine crept into the dark bedroom, but it had yet to disturb its sleeping occupant. It was long past the time her alarm normally went off, but the fourteen-year-old was sleeping in that Saturday morning. She had earned it. They all had. New Directions had performed spectacularly at the Sectionals performance the night before and had won. The glee club would live on, at least until Regionals, and after being allowed to stay out late with her teammates to celebrate, Rachel Berry was now taking the time the sleep in and re-live her moment of triumph in her dreams. She had seen herself performing "Don't Rain on My Parade" to countless filled houses in her mind's eye many times, but last night she had actually done it. And, according to everyone, it had been perfect. She had saved the day. She and her team had come together and pulled off a feat that everyone else told them was impossible.

Everyone told her she'd been brilliant. Her dads. Random people in the audience. Miss. Pillsbury. Rachel had lavished in the attention and praise. Sitting with everyone in the green room after they had been declared the winners, Rachel found her mind inexplicably wondering to a person she'd never seen before. The longing for her mom flashed so suddenly as she watched Mrs. Lopez cup Santana's face and tell her she was wonderful that Rachel's smile had faded by the time her fathers got to her. It returned just as quickly as they lifted her off her feet and exclaimed that she was a star.

Rachel rolled over in bed and tried to hang on to the last ounce of sleep that was left, but it was soon gone and she opened her eyes and stared lazily around her room, opting to at least stay in her warm bed for a little while longer. Her eyes passed over numerous Broadway posters and memorabilia. Bernadette Peters was there. As was Patti LuPone. Barbra Streisand almost had her own wall with Judy Garland making a few guest appearances. Barbra was her idol; a god among the people who graced the world with her flawless voice and immeasurable talent. She would always be Rachel's favorite. But there was another woman who Rachel had looked up to for years. She was perfect and also another idol. But she seemed much more attainable. Barbra lived in the clouds among the gods, but Shelby Corcoran was right there in New York City. She was currently on Broadway and already had two Tony Awards. Plus, Barbra was Shelby's idol too and Rachel liked that they had that in common.

Rachel threw her blankets back and walked over to look at her most prized possession. It was an autographed Shelby Corcoran poster and it was framed and hung in her room so that it couldn't be missed to anyone who walked in there. Rachel had never actually seen Shelby on Broadway or in concert (she owned every movie, of course), but she had found that poster on eBay last year. The $300 seemed like a small price to pay for such an amazing poster. Her dads' credit card hadn't been too hard to obtain either. Rachel had waited until the sale was final and the poster was in the mail to confess her crime and took the grounding she received with her head held high. It was worth it. Shelby Corcoran was worth it.

Rachel never quite understood why her dads didn't seem to warm to Shelby Corcoran like they did every other artist she was interested in. They both loved Broadway and enjoyed performing with Rachel and usually jumped enthusiastically in feet first to whatever was Rachel's favorite at the time. But the moment the seven-year-old had discovered Shelby Corcoran, they had shied away from it.

"Daddy, you have to hear this lady sing!" Rachel exclaimed as she ran down the stairs. "Dads!"

"What is it, Rach?" Hiram asked. He put down his newspaper and stared wide-eyed at his excited little girl. They'd been through this several times before.

"It's a brand new show," Rachel said. She waited until LeRoy had sat down at the table with his coffee. "I read about it when Daddy let me look at the Broadway page on the computer. And then I bought the CD at the mall with my allowance money when Mrs. James took me after school yesterday. I didn't get a chance to listen to it until today."

LeRoy nodded. They had been home late from work yesterday and Mrs. James, their neighbor, always watched Rachel on late days. He hated when a late day had to be Friday, but they'd gone out for a late dinner and Rachel had been worn out by the time they got home.

"Can I see it?" LeRoy asked, reaching out for the CD that Rachel was clutching to her.

"Not yet," Rachel answered. "You have to listen first."

"Put it on then," Hiram said. He had no doubt this would be good because if there was one thing their daughter had, it was impeccable taste in Broadway musicals.

Rachel skipped happily over to the stereo and put the CD in and took a second to select the right track. She hit play and then stepped back and watched her fathers because she didn't want to miss their reactions to her amazing new discovery.

The song was a classic Broadway ballad and Rachel's smile widened when the woman started to sing. Hiram smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes and he hurriedly looked at his husband who was looking back at him with the same look of mild panic. They knew that voice. They'd listened to that voice singing to their little girl for about seven months.

"Her name is Shelby Corco- Corc-" she stumbled over the pronunciation.

"Corcoran," Hiram and LeRoy said at the same time.

"Yeah!" Rachel said. "Do you know who she is?"

"No," LeRoy said as Hiram shook his head.

"She's wonderful!" Rachel gushed. "And look how pretty she is." Rachel opened the CD and pulled out the insert and passed it to her dads. "I read yesterday that she might get a Tony nomination for this. I hope she does."

"Yeah," LeRoy said.

"How about some breakfast?" Hiram said as he dropped the booklet to the table and stood up. "Turn that off and help me, ok?"

"But she's got three more songs," Rachel said.

"You can listen to them later," LeRoy said. "How about waffles?"

The poster smiled back at Rachel as she stepped away towards her bathroom to get ready for the day.

It wasn't until the girl was older that Rachel really started to recognize how much she and Shelby Corcoran looked alike. Rachel loved it. Shelby Corcoran was Broadway royalty and if she could make it there and be respected then there was no reason why Rachel couldn't. She didn't need to get rid of her nose like some of the kids at school said. She didn't need to lighten her hair or change the way she dressed. Just wait until she was big on Broadway like Shelby Corcoran. What would all those kids say then?

Rachel had certainly had her share of daydreams about the woman she adored. Shelby was a family friend who doted on Rachel. Or Rachel met her in Central Park and Shelby gave her tickets to her show. Or Rachel saved Shelby's dog when he ran out into the street and she knew that the woman would love her forever. There were even the fantasies about Shelby being her mother. It would be perfect, Rachel knew. It always was. Shelby Corcoran was not the first woman Rachel had picked out to be her mom. She'd pretended with teachers and Barbra Streisand and countless other celebrities. It was an easy allusion to play in her head. The loop was endless and, to Rachel, completely feasible.

Hiram and LeRoy often wondered if they were doing the right thing in keeping Shelby's identity a secret from Rachel. When she was seven they had hoped it was a phase she would pass out of, but Shelby's place as her favorite had yet to be usurped. They had been advised to create the contract when they decided to use a surrogate because they had heard stories of women changing their minds and keeping the babies. They didn't think they would be able to bear that. Very early in the pregnancy, Shelby had agreed easily. She was young and her head was in New York City. Shelby grew to really adore the men she was creating a baby for and she knew they would be wonderful fathers. She used to sing for them and they fawned over her. She sang to the little girl in her womb and talked to her constantly. Shelby talked about everything from New York to Broadway to Barbra and little things like what they should have for dinner and not to take her dads' corny jokes seriously.

The men could see her growing attached. They knew Shelby was an only child and her parents seemed distant. She was a barely out of college 21-year-old and they were both already 36. As the little life in her started to kick and move, Shelby started to truly understand what she was giving up. But she held true to her word and the contract she had signed. The only time she really broke was in the hospital the morning she had given birth. Legally, they didn't have to let her see Rachel. But they loved Shelby and she had begged. She couldn't stop her tears as the tiny baby was placed her in arms. Hiram snapped pictures as the two of them stared at each other with wide, shining eyes. Shelby was given time to hold and love her child. She nursed her and rocked her to sleep. And then she said goodbye.

The most precious thing Shelby Corcoran carried with her when she boarded the plane to New York City one week after having a child was copies of the pictures Hiram had taken. She had given life to a child and given a family to two loving men who were desperate for a baby. She had taken joy in their joy and soaked in the long hugs goodbye and thank you after thank you whispered in her ear. Shelby clung to the picture of that beautiful little baby and vowed to make it. She would conquer Broadway. And when she found Rachel eighteen years later, that little girl would be proud.

As Rachel grew older, Hiram and LeRoy began discussing the possibility of telling Rachel the truth. Her mother was a subject that clearly intrigued the girl and, though she never directly asked who the woman was, she talked about it often enough. Once Rachel was too old to believe the fairy stories, her father sat her down and explained surrogacy to her. She followed along and understood and liked feeling special enough to have had two fathers do everything to get her and be a family. The woman remained a mystery to her though.

As a younger child, the abstract was enough for Rachel. There was a woman who could be her mom. But as she got older, the need for more details became prevalent. The fantasies of her favorite celebrity being a loving mother who kissed her goodnight smiled adoringly from the audience as she sang in a recital were not as much as she needed anymore. She wanted to know more, but didn't know how to ask. So she started doing research on her own.

She didn't know where to start, so Rachel started at the top.

Daddy!" the 13-year-old yelled as she came in from a Saturday afternoon bike ride to the library. "Dad."

"Yes, sweetheart," LeRoy said as he stepped out of the kitchen where he had been preparing lunch for them all.

"Daddy," I think I may have figured it out," Rachel said. She followed him back to the kitchen and climbed up on a stool at the island. She plopped her bag down and pulled out a stack of papers.

"Figured what out?" Hiram asked. He had just come from upstairs.

"Who my mom is," Rachel said. There was a silence and she looked up at the two shocked faces before her. "Just because I'm curious," she continued on hurriedly. "Mother's Day is next week and there are all these commercials about it and I'm just curious so I decided to do some research." She didn't want to hurt their feelings.

"That's ok, Rachel," LeRoy said. "There's nothing wrong with curiosity."

Hiram nodded, but shot his husband a look as he poured himself a glass of water and then sat down at the island across from Rachel. "Go on," he said and then took a sip.

"My mother is Shelby Corcoran," Rachel said.

Hiram immediately started to choke and he set the drink down. LeRoy hit him on the back a few times in order to help his husband start to breathe properly. Rachel watched them with wide eyes and tried to read their faces.

"Are you ok now?" LeRoy asked Hiram.

"Yes, thank you," Hiram answered. He turned and looked at Rachel. "What makes you say that?"

"Well," Rachel sat up straighter and quickly sorted through her research. "First, our looks. Obvious we look exactly alike and she's exceptionally talented and I'm exceptionally talented. And according to this biography, she didn't get to New York City until 1995 which is after I was born. She's not from Ohio, which kind of puts a snag in my thinking, but she is from Indiana which is close enough."

She continued to rattle of generic bits of information about the star and Hiram and LeRoy exchanged a glance. It was just a couple of moments, but their eyes spoke volumes. Now was the time. They should tell her. The opportunity was right here. They realized in those moments that they were both ok with it. Rachel had always been curious about her mother. Shelby was a kind and loving young woman and despite what Rachel thought, they had been following her career quite closely. She skyrocketed to fame, but everything they saw about her pointed the level-headed dreamer they'd grown to love when she carried their child. They had never been sure if the contract had been the right thing to do. Would their daughter be any worse for having known her mother her whole life? Probably not. But would it be too confusing now? Maybe. Was it time?

"Rachel," LeRoy started when the girl stopped her Shelby explanation. She looked at him briefly, but plowed ahead.

"Do you want to see the research I have that proves Bernadette Peters is my mother?" Rachel asked.

The men exchanged a glance again. The moment was gone and they let it pass. After all, shouldn't Shelby also be involved in a conversation like that? The woman had the expectation that she wouldn't know Rachel until the girl turned 18. Was it fair to her to let the 13-year-old know? Was Shelby ready? And it's not like they knew how to get in contact with her. Telling Rachel now would put them on the fast track for having to track the woman down. And besides, the moment was gone.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Hiram said when Rachel finally made it downstairs that Saturday after Sectionals.

"Morning," she said brightly.

"I started some breakfast for you when I heard the shower turn off," LeRoy said. He placed a plate with pancakes and eggs and a glass of juice in front of the girl and she smiled ravenously. She was always hungriest in the morning.

"Thanks!" Rachel said.

"So, we were talking about your birthday," Hiram said. "When is it again, LeRoy?"

"Dad," Rachel scolded.

"This Friday," LeRoy said and then winked at his daughter.

"Oh right!" Hiram said. "We've been thinking about what you might like to do this year and we thought maybe a trip was in order."

"A trip?" Rachel asked around a bite of pancakes. "Where?"

"Well between our little girl turning 15 and your fantastic performance at Sectionals last night, I can't think of anywhere better than New York City," LeRoy said.

"New York City?" Rachel squeaked out. She'd been before. They'd taken her several times, but her eyes always shone with the excitement of a little kid when a trip to New York City was mentioned.

"Yep," Hiram said. "How does that sound?"

"It sounds perfect!" Rachel said. "Thank you!" It was true she had been before, but this would be different. They usually went during the summer. Winter in New York City could be magical, especially if she was there on her birthday. "When are we going?"

"We've got tickets for early Friday morning so that you get to spend most of your birthday there," LeRoy said. "And we'll fly home Monday evening."

"Thank you so much!" Rachel said, almost knocking over her juice as she got up to hug them. This would be one of the best birthdays yet. It was always just her and her dads for her birthday anyway, so why not spend it in the greatest city in the world?

"You're welcome?" Hiram said. "We've got tickets to see a couple shows as well."

Rachel beamed. "Which ones? Are we seeing Wounded Heart?" It was Shelby Corcoran's musical. According to every review, she was giving the best performance of her career. She took home the Tony for it in June and Rachel was dying to see it. She had lamented to her fathers on more than one occasion that she was never going to get to see Shelby Corcoran live.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but we couldn't get tickets," Hiram said. "It's just too popular. It's sold out for months in advance." Or so he'd heard. He hadn't really checked for tickets to the show.

"Oh," Rachel said. "That's ok. I'm so excited to be going for my birthday. I need to start packing. Can we get the suitcases from the basement today?"

"We're not flying until Friday," LeRoy said. "We don't really need suitcases yet."

"But I have so much to do," Rachel said.

"I know. We'll get them out later," LeRoy told her. If he got her suitcases today, Rachel would be packed and ready by this evening and her impatience was already going to be at an all-time high all week and he didn't want to add to that.

After breakfast, the fathers had invited her for an afternoon of antiquing with them, but Rachel declined. She gave them twenty minutes to actually be gone and then she headed to the basement in search of her suitcases. They made not need theirs yet, but according to Rachel, one did not just pack for a birthday weekend in New York City in one day. The suitcases were imperative.

And they were so high up on the shelf. Why did her dads do that? They were so tall and she was so short. A ladder work of shelving lined one wall in the basement and the suitcases were put up out of her reach. Why did they do that? They were on the shelf second from the top and unless Rachel wanted to drag a chair all the way down there, they only way she was going to get to them was to climb.

Getting up was the easy part. She clung to the shelves and reached out for the handles to her suitcase and pulled it from its spot and then let it fall. It landed with a satisfying thud and she turned back for her smaller one. It didn't come out as easily and she scooted her way closer so she could get better leverage to pull. The stupid suitcase wouldn't budge and she had to pull harder. One last tug and she should have it. The suitcase loosened and so did her footing as she was propelled backwards from the shelf. She instinctively grabbed for anything she could hold on to and her hand grasped around a gray box on the very top of shelf. It was not heavy enough to hold her in place and it started to fall right along with the girl and the suitcase.

Rachel landed on top of the other suitcase and the smaller fell on top of her, but she easily brushed it off. The gray box landed on its corner and it popped open spilling papers everywhere.

"Ow," Rachel moaned as she took a second to realize she wasn't really hurt. She was going to have to talk to her dads about why they insisted on storing the suitcases that high. It really made no sense, especially when she needed them when they weren't home.

Rachel shifted to the side so that she was sitting on the floor and started to gather up the papers that needed to be put back in the box. It was a lock box that protected important documents from fires or floods, but apparently not from falls. It must have hit just right to pop open like that. Rachel looked through some of it as she put them back in the box. There were birth certificates and insurance papers and other things that were equally boring to the 14-year-old. It wasn't until she got to the bottom of the pile and she saw a closed manila envelope with 'Rachel' written in her dad's hurried handwriting on the front that her interest was truly piqued.

Rachel lifted the latches and opened the flap and pulled her history from within. On the very top of the neat pile of papers she retrieved from the envelope was a small stack of pictures. Rachel's hand was trembling as she held the first picture. She wasn't sure how long she sat and stared into the face of her idol as the woman looked into the face of the baby in her arms. Rachel turned the picture over and written on the back in faded blue ink were the words, 'Shelby and Rachel – December 18, 1994.'

The next picture was taken from over Shelby's shoulder so that Rachel's face could be seen clearly. The next was Shelby cradling the wide-awake infant who had a secure grip on her mother's finger. The fourth picture showed Shelby kissing her head. And last had Shelby holding Rachel so that they both faced the camera. There were unshed tears in Shelby's eyes.

Rachel looked them over again. And again. She was wrapped in a blanket she'd never seen before. The bitter thought of how it was also a mother she'd never seen before entered her mind. She spread them out in front of her so she could see them all at once. Each was marked with the same caption.

Rachel finally looked away from the pictures so that she could go through the papers. There was her original birth certificate that listed Shelby Corcoran as her mother. The one she had seen before was one her fathers' received after all of the adoption paperwork had been finalized. Hiram Berry was listed as her father. She wondered if that had just been so they could put something down. Rachel always believed they didn't know which one was her biological father.

The next piece of paper she picked up was the contract. She read through it carefully so she would understand exactly what it said. Her fathers were to have full and complete physical custody. Her mother could not seek her out or initiate any contact until the child turned 18. There at the bottom was Shelby's signature. It was quite as impressive as the flourish she gave her autograph, but it was clear.

Confusion and hurt settled into Rachel as she sat there looking at her life through new eyes. Did her mother not want to see her until she was 18? Or were her fathers making sure the woman stayed away? But why? Tears of anger pricked her eyes. She'd been talking about Shelby Corcoran forever and they'd never thought to mention the most important thing about the woman. She remembered every time they tried to downplay the connection she felt towards the woman. And why had Shelby never looked for her? Because of some stupid contract?

Her mom was a Broadway star and anyone who knew Rachel knew she loved Broadway more than anything. Her fathers had been keeping her from the person who could give her an up close and personal look at her dream. They were denying her a world she'd fantasized about for years. Not that she would ever want to leave them or live without them. They were her parents and she adored them. But she was so angry. And so sad. It wasn't fair. She had never known how to ask and they had never known how to tell her.

Rachel sat there for another hour going through the rest of the papers from lawyers and for the adoption before she finally put them all back into the envelope. She kept the pictures though. She would never give up those pictures.

Rachel closed the lockbox and climbed back up to set it on the top shelf. Her descent was much more graceful this time and she was soon leaving the basement with the pictures and suitcases. She hid the pictures in her desk and put the suitcases to the side and then paced the room as she tried to figure out what to do. She wanted to yell at her fathers and demand to know why they never told her. She wanted to call the theater where Wounded Heart was playing and insist on speaking to Shelby and demand to know why the woman never sought her out. Shouldn't a mother's love be stronger than a contract?

In the end, she did nothing. She finally exhausted herself and sat at her desk and reached for her iPod. She found the song she wanted and let it play loudly throughout her room. It was slow and powerful and spoke about the love Shelby had for the girl her character was trying to protect in Wounded Heart. Rachel had imagined herself as that girl character countless times. She stared up at her beloved poster as the music played and she let her tears fall. It turns out that the woman she'd pretended was her mother had actually been singing her to sleep for years.

Friday morning was quiet for Shelby Corcoran. She cherished her quiet mornings when she got them. She was sipping warm tea with honey in her kitchen with an open card sitting on the table in front of her. She was grateful to be in a place in her career when she could say no to a Friday morning rehearsal or an interview. She wanted this day to herself. She always did.

Shelby set her tea down and picked up a pen so she could sign the card. She carefully wrote 2009 in the inside corner and then read over the birthday message once again. It was pretty generic. She didn't know what Rachel was into or what type of kid she was. But she knew that fifteen years ago today she had given birth to the most beautiful baby she had ever seen. Shelby thought about the pictures she had framed and displayed only in her bedroom where no one else would see. The baby she held in those pictures was becoming a young woman. But she was still a kid, Shelby knew. A precious kid.

Shelby took her time in writing a note to her daughter. When she was finished she signed it, like all the others, with, 'love, Mom.' Shelby put the card in the envelope and sealed it. She would never mail it out, of course. But she always got something. She got up and carried the card into her bedroom and opened a small box and placed this card under the others so that it was on the bottom. There were other birthday cards and Hanukah cards. There were also letters that Shelby had written throughout the years. Writing was the only way she'd been able to talk to Rachel and she had found it to be cathartic over the years.

Shelby thought about Rachel every day, but never more so than on her birthday. She wished she could at least know what the girl was like. What did she look like? Was she into music? Did she even know who Shelby was? Lots of kids didn't care at all about Broadway, but she hoped her daughter wasn't one of them. Her fame was the only way her daughter may know who she is and Shelby held on to that.

She had long ago created a fund for Rachel that the girl would get when she was 21. Or she could have it sooner if she needed it for college. Or Shelby would just pay for college if it was needed. She knew she would contact the Berrys when Rachel turned 18. She had always known she would. She would talk to Hiram and LeRoy first, but she wanted to know her daughter and she wanted the girl to know her.

Shelby picked up her tea from the table and moved to look out on her spectacular view of Manhattan. The view had been one of the selling points for the large apartment she'd purchased three years ago. She loved New York City with everything she had and the view on a perfect morning never failed to amaze her.

The weather was on the Berrys' side and a light snowfall didn't start until after they had landed. Rachel was excited and bouncy and her usual self. Her fathers didn't know anything about the discovery she'd made or her plans for that weekend. They woke her up the morning singing "Happy Birthday" and she knew it would be. This would be an amazing weekend. It just had to be.

Friday was spent shopping and eating at great restaurants and was topped off with a show on Broadway that evening. They were all exhausted by the time they returned to the hotel. The men had book a suite so that Rachel would have her own room, but would not be separated from them. She was so tired that she leaned against LeRoy the whole way up to the room. It made her miss being younger and one of them would just scoop her up and carry her.

Rachel thought about Shelby as she was lying in bed that night. She hadn't been able to bring it up to her dads in the same way she'd never been able to just ask them outright her whole life. She didn't want to be angry, but she was. And she was hurt and confused. But she was also afraid. What is Shelby didn't want to meet her? Rachel would be devastated. She had decided that she needed to meet her. She needed to see her face-to-face and know she was looking at her mom. And she needed her mom to know who she was. Then she would tell her dads. Much like getting the poster on eBay, Rachel needed to know Shelby was hers first before she told her dads.

They ate a quiet breakfast together in the hotel that Saturday morning. Rachel eyed them fondly and knew they were in good moods. She needed permission to carry out her plan.

"Can I go off for a little while by myself later?" Rachel asked after a sip of juice.

"By yourself?" LeRoy asked.

"Yeah," Rachel said. "Just to walk around and look at shops and stuff. I'll stay in the theater district. You two could get a nice lunch all to yourselves."

"I don't know…" LeRoy started, but Rachel's pout stopped him.

"I'm fifteen now," Rachel said. "I just want to see a couple of things alone. I'm going to be living here by myself in less than three years."

Hiram put a hand to his heart dramatically which caused Rachel to roll her eyes. The men then had a silent conversation and Rachel watched their expressions and smiled when she knew she had gotten her way.

"Ok, sweetheart," LeRoy said. "But keep your phone where you can reach and make sure you can hear it. And don't go outside the theater district. Stay close to Times Square."

"Don't talk to anyone," Hiram continued.

"Unless you see Barbra Streisand and then we expect you to bring her back to the hotel," LeRoy said.

"Dads," Rachel said with teenage disdain.

"Be careful," Hiram said seriously.

"I will," she smiled. "And you two enjoy the time to yourselves."

"Thank you," LeRoy bowed slightly.

They parted ways half an hour later and Rachel set out after bundling up and being given extra money by her fathers. She carried a messenger bag with a folder in it and knew it would be a good place to story any purchases so that she didn't have to carry a bunch of bags. They gave her last minute instructions all the way down the hallway and she had never been more grateful for elevator doors to close in her life.

It was too early to go to her planned destination so Rachel did spend some time in the going to different shops and getting souvenirs. Her fathers would tell her they were always the same, but she didn't care. And if she looked in the right places she knew she could find stuff she didn't have. She bought up a ton of Wounded Heart memorabilia and when she finally decided it was time, she headed towards the theater that was housing that show. She knew she couldn't get in, but she sweet talked the guy at the stage door into giving her a playbill. The show would be ending soon and a crowd was already starting to form. People who didn't actually have tickets lined the barrier and Rachel knew the crowd would be huge as everyone was going to try and get an autograph from Shelby.

If she comes out. Oh god, Rachel hadn't even thought of that. What if Shelby didn't go to the stage door after the matinee? She might only do it after evening performances. What if there was an understudy that day? Rachel's mind raced with possibilities she hadn't planned for when suddenly the door opened and out walked Shelby's young co-star. The girl was 19 and playing 14 in the show about a girl who is being abused before she's rescued and taken in by the teacher who cares enough to step up and protect her. Shelby played the teacher, of course. It was heavy material for a musical, but the songs were amazing and acting unchallenged. Shelby and her young co-star had both taken home Tonys for their portrayals. It was a story of pain and love and longing and ultimately hope. Rachel adored it.

Allison Young, the co-star, made her way around the barrier signing and taking pictures. She signed Rachel's playbill and smiled at the girl staring at her in awe. This girl had made it on Broadway at the age of 19. Rachel knew she could do it too.

Allison was soon gone and the waiting started again. The guard assured everyone that Shelby would be coming out and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. Her heart started to race and she could hear the pounding in her ears. She hoped she appeared stronger and more put together than she felt. She had important questions for this woman, but she wasn't sure if she could ask them while standing on legs made of jello.

It was another ten minutes before Shelby appeared. There was a roar in the crowd and Rachel felt herself being pushed up against the barrier as people tried to get closer. Her hands were trembling as she held the playbill. It was a slow progression, but it was happening. Her mother would soon be close enough to touch. Not that she would, but it made Rachel smile.

Shelby smiled as the flashes started and the people cheered. She'd come out of the stage door many times and she was glad it still felt so cool. She nodded graciously and thanked people for coming and signed item after item. She enjoyed this, but it was such a blur sometimes. The security guards wanted her to go as quickly as possible and the fans all wanted pictures and to get to talk to her. It was a fine balance to try and master.

Rachel forced herself to keep her head up as Shelby approached. This would be easy and thrilling in a completely different way if Rachel thought she was just meeting her idol. But this was so much more than that. This was her mother.

"Hi," Rachel said in a voice barely above a whisper when Shelby stood in front of her and signed the playbill in her hand.

"Hello," Shelby said brightly. She sometimes didn't even register people's faces, but she couldn't look away once she glanced down at this girl. Her demeanor changed and her face lost some of its automatic, camera ready smile. There was something so… familiar about this girl.

Rachel's eyes started to tear and she tried to get her mouth to say something. She had to do this now. It didn't help that Shelby Corcoran was staring back at her so intently. She'd dreamed of this moment, in more ways than one, countless times and now nothing was going according to the script. Say something, Rachel!

"Miss Corcoran," Rachel finally managed.

"Yes?" Shelby said. She leaned down so she could be at eye level with this girl who had captured her attention. People were snapping pictures and smiling and saying aw at how Shelby was taking her time with this young, intimidated fan. It was just one more reason to love her.

Rachel grasped onto the barrier and pulled herself forward some. She had so much to say and now she didn't think she could get anything more than a whisper. Shelby stayed put and let the girl whisper into her ear.

"I'm Rachel Berry. I'm your daughter."

A/N – Ok, guys, please tell me what you think. Your reviews mean so much to me. I hope you all like this one. There will be more chapters to come. But please, please review. Thanks!