A/N: So this is the Prequel to my other story 'Never Grow Up'. I asked if anyone wanted me to write this, and I got some interest, so here's the first chapter. It's probably not what anyone had in mind, but it's what i did. Sorry, Rachel's 'dads' are pretty hated in this story, at least until later on, i think. There are a few references in this story that some of you may or may not pick up on. The first is probably going to be more obvious in the next chapter. Not sure how I'm going to go about updating this. Whether it's once I finish writing a chapter, or with a preset date. Whatever. As with my other A/N in 'Never Grow Up', i feel Shelby's character wasn't fully explored, so therefore I feel comfortable in saying she's probably not OOC. Also, she's pretty young here so, I don't think she'd be all 'Hard-Ass Coach Corcoran' until she actually is, Coach Corcoran.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. As I love Idina, she would of had more scenes/involvement in episodes if i did. I hope she turns up in Season Four.
Hope you like it. Enjoy.
Chapter One: Brown Eyes and a Baby Blanket
The last few months had been absolute hell. It should have been fine. She should have been fine. It was just a job right? A couple months of her life, and she'd get enough money to last her in New York for at least four years. It should have been fine.
But she was young. She still is. Twenty-one was not the right age to have made that big of a decision. It wasn't just a 'couple months of her life'. She'd basically given all of it the moment the pen hit those papers.
She curled herself in to a ball on her couch, a glass of wine in one hand and a soft, pink blanket clutched in the other. She'd cried. Oh, how she cried. But now there was nothing left of her. She couldn't muster another tear. So instead, she stared blankly at the wall, occasionally lifting the glass to her lips and slowly sliding down the couch, her grip on the blanket tightening.
That's all she knew about her… about her daughter. They'd named her Rachel. Oh, and she had brown eyes.
She saw those eyes. Every night, when she either fell in to an exhausted sleep, or she passed out from the amount of self-pity and alcohol she'd wallowed in, she'd see those eyes. Through a wall of nurses, those eyes turned to her, looked right at her.
She both loved, and hated those eyes.
They haunted her now. In her dreams, or should that be nightmares? It didn't matter now. She wouldn't able to see her, or her eyes, for another eighteen years. Not according to the papers.
'Never should have signed that damn contract.'
She was just about to drift off, her eyes slowly sliding shut before a knock on her door startled her. Sitting up abruptly, she swore as the red wine tumbled out of her hand, spilling. For a pslit second, she froze.
"Fuck." She muttered.
She moved her other hand, and then panicked.
It had been clutched to her chest, held tightly in a sort of comforting way. The wine had spilt directly on top of her body.
Directly on to the blanket.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she carelessly dropped the glass, no longer caring about the stained white carpet or the stickiness already starting on her skin.
"No, no, no, no, no, no! Please, it's all I have."
She rubbed at the material, (Stupid, careless idiot), and then swore continuously as it just rubbed in to the soft fabric. Another knock at the door caused her to falter as she attempted to stand. Scowling, with her eyes red and tears falling, she pulled the door open.
"What?" She growled, grimacing as she was met with her mother standing before her, her hand raised ready to knock again.
"Oh, Shelby." She sighed.
She continued to glare at her mother, her lip trembling and her hand shaking. Her parents hadn't known what she was planning on doing. Neither did her two brothers or her sister. She never told anyone. Not until the night after Rachel was born, and she just couldn't take it. She'd called her mom and sobbed for over twenty minutes before Amelia was able to coax what was wrong out of her daughter.
She'd been disappointed, and a little hurt. But she'd showed up the next day and enveloped her daughter in her arms and held her as she cried. Every month since then she'd show up, making sure Shelby was eating, and leaving the house.
She'd forgotten her mom was coming that night.
Just like the first night, her mom stepped forward, her arms wrapping around Shelby's shoulders as she cried. Tonight was worse compared to the last few time Amy had seen her.
Shelby pulled away, pushing her mom's arms off of her and stumbling back.
"You… You scared me. I… The blanket…" She turned her head, staring at the stained pink fabric.
Amy followed her gaze, her eyes softening as she caught sight of the object that had been attached to Shelby's side for the last seven months.
"Oh honey. It's okay, it can be cleaned. Shhhhh."
Shelby shook her head, backing away with her eyes still trained on the blanket.
"No. No, it won't be the same. It won't smell like her, or feel like her. It'll change."
Amy walked forward, slowly enveloping Shelby in her arms and pulled her to sit beside her on the opposite couch.
"It's okay. It's okay. Shhhh."
Shelby fell asleep with her head on her mother's lap, her face a soft red and a tear sliding down her cheek.
She woke up in her bed, wrapped in her duvet and clutching a now clean pink blanket in her hands. Closing her eyes, she brought it closer, inhaling softly. A small smile appeared. It still smelt the same.
She stopped drinking. She couldn't afford for a repeat with the wine. Every night she'd clutch the blanket to her chest, burrow under the covers and close her eyes. Sometimes she'd dream. About a little girl calling her mommy with a large grin and beautiful brown eyes. Sometimes she'd nightmare. See flashes of a teenage, almost adult, girl glaring at her with those eyes, hating her for walking away.
Three weeks after the wine, and the blanket, and her mom, another knock startled her from her thoughts. Sighing to herself, she carefully put down the photograph of her sonogram. She'd found it yesterday hidden in the bottom of a box she'd packed away. Moving to the door, she pulled it open and blinked at the sight.
There was no one there. She shrugged, muttering 'Damn kids' and was about to shut the door when a noise caught her attention. Looking down, she gaped at the car seat with the small, eight month old girl looking up at her.
"Oh my god." She bent down, lifting the baby and holding her in her arms. "What in the…"
A letter sitting in the car seat just barely captured her attention, Shelby having been to enamoured with the little girl she was absolutely sure was her daughter. Bending down, she picked up the paper and smiled as the little baby girl's hand tugged on her long hair. Opening the letter, her eyes scanned the page.
We realize this must be a shock. And we understand if you want nothing to do with this, but we're desperate. We thought we could handle her, but we can't. She's always crying, and no matter what we do, she won't stop. We're not sure if it's her mother that she wants, but it definitely isn't us.
We aren't going to ask for the money back, and there's a key in the envelope to a storage unit that has all of the stuff that was for Rachel in it. If you want to keep her, there are custody papers in the seat, we've already signed them. If you don't, there's adoption papers in there too. Just drop her off.
We're so sorry, but we just couldn't handle a baby like we thought we could.
Hiram and Leroy
White hot rage almost blinded her as she finished reading.
How dare they? How could they just… just drop a baby girl, her… no… their baby girl on a doorstep? Who does that? That's such a… such a movie like thing to do. A gurgling from her hip snapped her from her enraged thoughts.
Looking down, the anger fled her body as the small baby girl looked up at her, a smile stretching across her tiny face and a gaggle of laughter erupting from the eight month old.
"Hi there Rachie… I'm… I'm your mommy."
Rachel giggled again, her hand lifting to rest against Shelby's cheek.
"Well… It looks like it's just you and me."
A cough broke her from looking at her daughter, causing her to turn to the neighbour across from her apartment. The older woman, with her grocery bags and her glasses, smiled at Shelby.
"Your daughter's gorgeous Shelby."
Shelby smiled, a tug at her heart making her glance down at the curious baby girl in her arms.
"She is, isn't she."
Her daughter. She smiled, lifting the car seat and walking back in to the apartment.
Setting the car seat in the living room, she sat on the couch, her legs up and Rachel lying on her thighs, staring right at Shelby. Playing with Rachel's hands, Shelby froze.
She was a twenty-one year old, single woman waitress, living in New York City.
She needed to move. She needed her mom.
Next Chapter: Shelby goes house hunting with her mom and her sister, trying to move her and Rachel from the Big City, and spends a night with her daughter.
A/N: That's chapter one. I hate to do this, but I like my reviews. They're like crack. So I'd like to ask at least five reviews before I update again. Please and Thank You. I hope you liked it. Laters.