"This new school will be great for you, honey. I heard it has a very low student crime rate," Hiram said.

"Yes, daddy." Rachel managed a weak smile. She wasn't particularly excited to go to a new school, to start a new life, to face new horrors, but she really had no choice. Life goes on, even when he twisted her heart in his hands and shoved it back in her chest.

"You sure you still want to wear this old jacket?" he asked, pulling at the collar of her leather jacket.

Her eyes went wide. She couldn't tell him… he wouldn't understand. "Dad gave it to me. I need something from our old life to make the new start easier." Her smile came out less forced—her fresh start would be epic, because she would make it so. She wouldn't doubt herself this time. New life. New friends. No new love, though. She couldn't handle that.

"Dad would be so proud of you. So would Shelby," said Hiram, drawing her into a hug. Rachel stayed in his embrace for longer than necessary; she was scared to let him go. She was paranoid, but she knew the fear wouldn't go away.

. : .

"Ah, Rachel Berry! It's a pleasure to meet you," said Principal Figgins.

Rachel was a little unimpressed by the little Indian man. Her last principal had been a mammoth of a woman who inspired the shakes from 30 feet away. "Lovely to be here, Mr. Figgins."

"Now, I know some of your past indiscretions and punishments have probably made you unnecessarily angry—"

"No, not at—" Rachel tried to interrupt.

"—but this is a safe environment. We do not want our gymnasium to be set on fire!" Rachel sighed; the speech was beginning. "The crime rate in this school is the lowest in the county because our students are encouraged to follow their dreams within reason! Our teachers watch them to dispel any inappropriate behavior; no cases of juvenile delinquency, knife fights, or Twilight fever have arisen at this public school under my leadership."

Rachel nodded, pretending she was interested. "That's all very impressive."

"So I expect you to keep your attitude in check and attend your sessions with Ms. Pillsbury regularly. Clear?" He ended his harangue with a stern look.

"Crystal, sir." She picked up her bag and walked dejectedly out of the office. She was in for a long day.

. : .

Rachel dragged herself to her faculty advisor's office. Hopefully it would be quick so she could eat something. She'd been getting stern speeches all day long and had forgotten about breakfast in the first day rush. Her teachers were so annoyingly rude to her; of course she didn't have her textbooks yet—she was a mid-semester transfer student. She knocked on Mr. Schuester's door, hoping to finally get a little sympathy.

"Rachel Berry, I presume?" Mr. Schuester asked, when she knocked and entered his office. He had curly hair and a kind face.

"Yes, sir."

"Call me Mr. Schue. Everyone does." He smiled, and she saw dimples. She was relieved to have a faculty advisor who didn't seem to hate her by her previous reputation.

"Okay, so, it's been a long day, and I was wondering if I could have my books? Teachers have been berating me all day, but clearly none of them was willing to respect me as an educated young woman and hand me a book."

He grinned. "I think I know exactly what you need." He raised his finger to indicate 'just a second' and ducked under his desk.

Rachel visibly relaxed. This was the best part of her day, by far. He wasn't yelling at her, like her teachers, or giving her disdainful looks, like some of her fellow students. Maybe this school would be okay. She almost felt like she could slip the leather jacket off; she knew it was sick that it still comforted her…

Mr. Schue plunked a heavy, old book on his desk. She squinted at it; the writing was in some old script… no… she knew that book. No. How could he know? She had to ignore it. She couldn't fall back into the same patterns again. She looked at him incredulously. "You've got the wrong girl."

He cocked his head and scrunched his eyebrows. "Do I?"

She stood her ground. "Yes."

He put the book away. "Sorry. I could have sworn…" He fell silent, still looking at her hard.

"So… textbooks?" she asked brightly, trying to break the awkward tension. Mr. Schue smiled again and started pulling out books.

. : .

Rachel let her head fall on the table in front of her. After the one bright spot, her day had somehow managed to get worse. She met with Ms. Pillsbury after Mr. Schuester, and was given a pamphlet on anger management before she was hurried out so Ms. Pillsbury could disinfect for lunch. She had nowhere to sit for lunch, obviously, and ate in a large room with a piano by herself. The day was finally over, but she promised her AP US History teacher (torturer) that she would be ready for the multiple-choice test tomorrow. Suffice it to say, the studying wasn't going too well. She'd missed a few classes at her old school on the subject of the New Deal for, well, the horrible things that were happening in her life at the time.

She breathed out heavily and wished the textbook would just transfer to her brain. She did not have the patience to learn this right now.

"Whoa. Loud thunk," said someone behind her.

She sat up, embarrassed. "Oh, um. It didn't hurt." She turned around and was greeted with the sight of a very tall, very handsome teenage boy. No, she told herself, no boys. She wasn't ready yet.

"You're new. Big news," he said, sitting across the table from her. "I'm Finn Hudson, by the way. My mom used to know your dads."

"I'm Rachel Berry. I am big news," she beamed.

"Cool. Why did you come in March?" he asked.

She let out a breathy little laugh. "Oh, you know, there was a big… thing back in Portland."

"Oh?" he asked, expecting and explanation.

"Yeah."

He smiled at her again. She became uncomfortable immediately; she didn't like to talk about her past. "Are you all right?"

"I should get home to daddy. I'll see you tomorrow?" She zipped her jacket up and gathered her books.

"Sure. I think my mom said she'd be calling your parents about dinner."

"Yeah. Parents," she said despondently, before running out.

Finn was just confused, but that wasn't new for him around girls.

. : .

Rachel ran along the dark streets, firmly asserting to herself that this was just a check-out patrol. There was nothing to be scared of in Lima, Ohio. As a big wind came, she gripped the sides of her skirt closer to her; she didn't want to give a show to the less-than-lustrous characters of the night.

She felt bad about sneaking out; she really did. Her daddy would never know, though. He slept like a rock, and this was important. She needed to know they were safe.

How she'd managed to even survive the last month in Portland, she'd never know. She'd fought so hard against everything, only to lose her dad and just-found mother. Daddy was still blissfully ignorant, thank God; he believed the police report about the car crash. It was easier that way. If Daddy knew what his little princess had to face… he would probably end up the same place as Dad.

She turned down an alley behind an Irish pub; she hadn't run into anything unsavory yet, so if this was all there was to this hum-drum town, she guessed she could go home now.

It seemed, though, that the universe was completely against her.

"How very interesting," said a slimy voice behind her. "All alone at night, are we?"

She turned to face a man with oily hair and a ridiculous polyester shirt. "I guess not so much anymore. It's really quite rude to intrude on a young girl's private time."

He practically slithered toward her. "You don't want to be alone here at night. Creepy town full of creepy characters." He waved his fingers in the air to indicate the general creepiness. "And such a pretty face doesn't need to be disfigured." He laid his hand on her cheek. She stayed completely still, to let him think she was frozen with fear.

"It is totally weird out her at night," she said in an almost-baby voice.

"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit; it'll make you stronger." His face changed as he leaned into her throat. She knew that change.

Before he could sink his fangs into her, she kicked him in the stomach so hard he hit the bar wall opposite her. A growl ripped out of his mouth and he came at her again, clearly not used to being beaten in any way. She was more than ready for a fight; she'd been on edge since she'd left Portland, expecting him to find her. Before Polyester Idiot could bat an eye, she had him pinned to the ground, her hand at his throat. "Why are you here?" she demanded. When he didn't answer, she slammed his head against the ground. "WHY?"

"Not telling you, bitch," he snarled.

She pressed her hand harder to his throat and kneed him in the crotch. "Tell. Me. Or I will make this even more painful than it needs to be."

He looked terrified, now not underestimating his small attacker. "Look, I'll tell you what's up. Just don't stake me."

"Depends if I like what I hear."

"Someone, or something is calling."

She raised an eyebrow. "Calling?"

"Calling." He squirmed under her. "You'll let me go?"

"That was useless information!" She pulled a stake out of her sleeve and pushed it to his heart.

To top the horrible day off, she got vampire dust in her mouth. Fantastic.

. : .

With eyes a-blazing and her bouncy-angry step, Rachel stormed into Mr. Schue's office the next morning before first period. "How the hell do you know who I am?"

He looked shocked. "Rachel Berry. Your name was on your transcript and I help out in admissions."

"No, Mr. Schue. You know who I am. But that's totally impossible because my last Watcher died and the Council did fuck-all to help us." She didn't normally curse, but she was severely riled up.

His face turned solemn. "I wish you hadn't had to come here."

"I wish I hadn't either! I staked a vampire last night who didn't give me any insight to the dark stuff that's going on here. He said that someone or something is calling. What is that?"

"Hm… Was he speaking under duress?"

"Yes; I had him pinned to the ground. At least the vamps in Portland were scared enough of me to give me credible information. The monsters in Lima had better find out about me soon, because I am the best fucking Slayer there is and I deserve some respect."

"You're the Chosen One. Emphasis on the One," Mr. Schue informed her politely.

"I'm still the best."

"And so modest."

She narrowed her eyes. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Oh, yeah!" He smiled. "I'm a Watcher, too. I'm really sorry about what happened to Holly. She contacted me right before… you know. She knew that destiny would lead you here, or something, so she told me to get prepared. I have all the first editions, but she told me you were very thorough, so you've probably already read them. Right now I'm not sure about the 'calling' thing, but as of late there has been a strange amount of mystical activity here. I think some sorcerer is pulling together forces he can't deal with. Maybe it's intentional chaos? But you're finally here, so we can fight it. The vampires won't know what hit 'em."

Rachel locked her fingers together and stared at them. "Mr. Schue?"

He paused in his excited book-stacking. "Something wrong, Rachel?"

"The last time a big force was getting all, um, oogy where I lived, it kind of turned out… badly, and a lot of people died, and the guy who was behind it was—"

Immediately, Mr. Schue got up and put his hand on her shoulder. "Rachel, don't worry about that. Holly told me everything, and I know he won't find you, if he even survived that fire. You're going to be fine. You just killed a vampire last night! Clearly, your skills haven't faded at all."

She set her jaw. "I am Rachel Berry and I am amazing at killing vampires."

Mr. Schue beamed; he knew the demon presence in Lima would be under control in no time. "Great! Let's talk about your training schedule. You need to stay in top form while you're finding the dark sorcerer or whatever who inexplicably chose middle-of-nowhere Ohio for his evil purposes."

Rachel sighed. Business as usual.