Beginning of the rewrite. This version might be a little more...effed up.

-RCV

It wasn't until she left did she realize Lima had dimmed whatever light remained inside of Rachel. Spending a year with her extended family in Seattle did her good, and there was something about the Berry clan that left lasting marks on more than just her body. They were three of the most care-free, loving, open, group of people she'd ever met. Rachel was technically an only child, but her Daddy Leroy had two children that treated her like they shared the same blood. Tori was the type of sister that woke you up with ice water to the face for the hell of it while LJ was the type of brother that made Puck seem like an angel, but she loved them both.

They were the ones who always answered the phone when she called, no matter what time of day it was, and she would cry to them about her day. They sent her care packages now and then filled with Seattle coffee, books and new music for her to listen to. Her family life wasn't something she talked about, and with all the assumptions thrown around, Rachel lost interest in correcting them. She merely let the town talk, let her classmates spread their gossip, and stayed quiet.

The sudden year off came as a shock to everyone, especially the Glee Club, who spent the first month of her absence calling and texting to know what happened to her. Rachel was sure rumors were going around about the reason why, but like with everything else, Rachel never confirmed or denied them. So, after sending off replies to a majority of the club, Rachel eventually turned off her phone and spent the year cut off from everything and everyone in Lima. The only person she talked to was her Daddy. Not even her Dad reached out. She didn't find that too shocking considering he was hell-bent on sending her to a treatment center. She was thankful for her Daddy, because had it not been for him, Rachel would've been in an asylum somewhere.

After the incident, Rachel spent her last week of school at home, and by that weekend, she was on a flight to Washington, signaling the end of her sophomore year. She had no expectations for the trip but was pleasantly shocked out of her mind when Mama Berry picked her up from the airport in a dirt-covered Ford F-150 with her siblings hanging out of the window with hand-crafted signs that read: "Looking For Small, Tiny Brunette. Will Pay Good Money."

It was the first real laugh she'd had in a long time and the first of many.

The next morning resulted in her waking up to her clothes burning in the front yard, her brother stoking the flames to ensure the fabric completely turned to ash. Soon after, her sister decided to take a pair of scissors to her hair, and to keep her from walking around in ugly sweaters and tights, the family drove Rachel to the closest mall where she was poked, prodded, measured, and squeezed into pants so tight she was afraid that she would die from poor blood circulation.

For twelve months, her normal schedule was broken by late morning run-ins with the truancy officers, detentions after school, and a reputation much worse than the one she'd garnered back in Lima. She got her exercise by running away from rabid dogs, angry neighbors, and cops who caught them loitering just a little too long outside the liquor store. There were the secret "rage-outs" in the basement between she and Tori that would help leak out some of the anger Rachel kept bottled up inside.

All in all, it was a year filled with pain combined with large portions of laughter and growth.

Seattle did wonders for her soul and her mind, leaving her heart to whoever was lucky enough to catch it and tame it, but above all, Seattle sparked a fire that had long lost its reason to burn.

"When you said Lima was a wasteland, we didn't think you meant it literally."

Rachel snorted, not bothering to turn around as she said, "You could've stayed in Washington."

"I thought Lima would be more exciting," LJ murmured. "There are too many trees. Where are the coffee shops? The tattoo parlors? Strip clubs like the one we-"

There was a smacking sound, and Rachel mentally thanked Tori for her quick thinking. The last thing Rachel needed was for her Dad to know that she spent more time going to strip clubs and getting lap dances than meditating and attending self-help groups. The type of soul-searching she participated in wasn't the kind he desired for her. When blue eyes bored into the side of her head, Rachel kept her gaze firmly outside and inwardly exhaled, mentally preparing for the off-handed comment hanging off her Dad's tongue.

"I take it you did the complete opposite of what was suggested during your little sabbatical. I knew it was a bad idea sending you out there. You would've done better at an alternative school, or maybe we should have sent you to that juvenile center."

There was an awkward pause where the only sound was the low voices coming from the radio station, and Rachel counted to ten before she responded.

"Daddy suggested Seattle as a way for me to connect with his side of the family while simultaneously giving me another chance after my-," Rachel stopped and gritted out, "incident."

"Incident? You nearly beat a man to death, Rachel. That's like calling a three-way car crash a fender bender!"

Unbeknownst to her Dad, guitar-trained fingers brushed against the back of her neck in warning, and Rachel went back to staring out of the window. The rest of the ride passed with the radio acting as white noise to the tension flaring in the car. The original plan was for her Daddy to be the one to pick them up. He hadn't seen his children in years, and the two-hour ride from the airport was supposed to be lighthearted and fun.

Not suffocating and judgmental.

While the car sped along, Rachel thought back to when Hiram first picked them up from the airport. She didn't outwardly react, but she saw the way her Dad's eyes narrowed on her professionally dyed and freshly chopped hair, new clothes, and body art barely covered by the sleeves of her thermal. She saw the way he scowled at LJ's piercings, the apparent disgust at Tori's choice of t-shirt selection, and despite the wild and free lifestyle her Daddy used to live, Hiram was the opposite.

Blinking back into the present, Rachel snapped the rubber band on her wrist in sequences of three and focused on her breathing. She was itching to smoke, and she missed the familiar sting on her knuckles after going a couple of rounds with Tori. Sighing, she looked down when her phone vibrated in her lap. Unbidden, a smile broke out, and she read the message on the screen:

Welcome Home, Rocky. Meet up later our usual spot?

She grinned to herself, and typed out her response before going back to staring at the barren wasteland that she called home.