So here's my update, sorry it's a little late, I would've updated earlier, but Fanfiction's been glitching out. I still have this problem where when someone updates, it sends me an email but the link to the updated chapter doesn't work :/ Anyone else got this problem? Italics = dream. Dreams are in 3rd person cuz it's easier that way for me, lol.

Quinn

We arrived at Rachel's house, and Rachel was already fast asleep. I carefully picked her up and carried her inside and up to her room, trying not to bump her cast. I gently set her down on her bed and sat down next to her, running my fingers through her hair. Santana and Brittany were sitting on either side of me and looking down at the diva in concern. I softly grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up, revealing the words she had carved into her stomach. I had seen the cuts earlier, and I had seen that they had represented letters, but I couldn't make out what they had said. I gasped after her entire stomach was in sight. These cuts weren't just words, these were deep. They had gone way deeper than anything else she had done. I whimpered and grazed my fingertips over her stomach. I felt my eyes start stinging with tears and a sob form deep in my throat. I replaced her shirt and abruptly stood up, walking quickly towards the door and out of the room. I ran down the stairs before collapsing onto the couch, sobbing. I heard footsteps quickly make their way down the stairs before feeling myself being encircled in a pair of warm arms.

"It's okay Quinn;" Brittany spoke softly, "Rae's going to get better. Me, you, and Santana are going to make sure of it." The tall blonde rubbed my back gently.

"It's so bad Britt, there-there's so many," I choked out between sobs as Brittany continued comforting me. "I though she was getting better."

"It'll be okay, she'll get there," Brittany whispered, as tears began to leak from her eyes. She nuzzled into my hair and took deep breaths as she tried to calm herself. "We can spend all day tomorrow here and make sure she doesn't do anything bad," she added, her voice shaking. I nodded and continued to cry into the tall blonde, clinging onto her shirt. I continued to cry on the couch, taking comfort in Brittany for ten more minutes before sniffling and pulling away.

"Thanks B," I mumbled as I wiped my eyes.

"Anytime," she replied softly before standing up. I got up and followed her upstairs. I headed into Rachel's room, but Brittany stopped me. "I think we should just let Rachel and Santana sleep tonight, they are having that talk tomorrow anyways, so let's just go to the guest room." She smiled at me weakly before motioning for me to follow her to the extra room. I reluctantly followed before changing into a t-shirt and sweats and rolling into bed next to her. I pulled the blankets up higher, before falling into an uneasy sleep.

Quinn woke up with a start, and found that the sheets beside her were empty, and Brittany was nowhere in sight. Puzzled, she sat up and looked around the room, finding nothing but dark emptiness.

"Britt?" she called out quietly. After getting no response, she sighed before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up. She walked into the hall and looked down to Rachel's room. Her door was slightly cracked, so she decided to check inside. She opened the door and found Rachel's bed empty, her covers slightly ruffled. Still confused she looked inside the room, and her eyes settled on the tightly shut bathroom door. She slowly walked over to the door and quietly knocked. "Hello?" She asked quietly, but got no response. "Rachel, Brittany, Santana, you in there?" Again, she got no response. She sighed before turning away from the door. Just as she was about to walk out of the room she heard a small whimper from the bathroom. She whipped around and walked back over to the door. She hesitantly turned the handle and opened the door a crack. "Hello?" She asked again, quietly as she slowly opened the door. She saw a puddle of red on the floor, and her eyes widened in terror as she threw the door the rest of the way open. Rachel was lying on the floor unconscious with a blade in her hand, deep cuts in both her wrists, and a growing pool of blood beneath her. "Rachel!" she yelled desperately, "Rach, please wake up, open your eyes something, anything please!" she screamed, desperately shaking the brunette's shoulders. "Rachel, Rachel no, don't do this to me, please Rach, please wake up." She cried, openly sobbing. She felt soft grab her arms and shake her softly.

"Quinn, Quinn wake up," Brittany whispered, as the room began to dim, before turning completely black.

"Quinn, wake up," Brittany whispered drowsily as she shook my shoulders. Once I had woken, I shot bolt upright, breathing heavily, my whole body shaking. I turned to my side, and found Brittany staring at me sleepily, rubbing her eyes. I relaxed slightly, collapsing back into the bed as Brittany wrapped an arm around me. "What happened?" she whispered, "I woke up, and you were screaming and crying in bed."

"Nightmare," I replied quietly, burying my head in the pillow.

"About Rachel?" she asked softly, gently rubbing my back. I nodded before pulling the blankets up farther, and forcing myself to fall back asleep.

Santana

I woke up the next morning, and found Rachel fast asleep next to me. I smiled to myself as I noticed that she had gone through the entire night without a nightmare. This had to be a good sign, that or she was still hyped up on pain medication. I walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth, but as soon as I walked in I saw the sharp, new razor sitting on the counter, and covered with dried blood. That must've been what she used on her stomach. My smile immediately dropped and I picked it up. I turned to look out the door and found Rachel still sleeping on her bed. I sighed and ran the blade under the faucet watching the blood drain away. This wasn't going to be easy for Rachel; it was nowhere near easy for me. I only stopped when it was almost too late. I had to be on the brink of death in order for me to quit, and I sure as hell wasn't going to sit around and watch the same thing happen to Rachel. She was going to have urges, but I just wasn't going to let her have the option of getting her fix. Even I still have urges, but after all the shit I went through; there was no fucking way I was going back now. After the razor was clean, I shoved it in my pocket to properly dispose of it later. I sighed and turned back to the sink; this nice-Santana shit sure wasn't getting us anywhere, guess I was going to have to start being the tough guy here. I finished cleaning up in the bathroom before re-entering the bedroom and walking to Rachel's side. I picked up the pillow and whacked her in the face.

"Up, Berry, we have a lot to talk about." She groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"What was that for?" she asked sleepily.

"It doesn't matter, but you have some explaining to do," I sat next to her on the bed and dug the razor out of my pocket and dangling it in front of her. "What's this?" I asked sharply, raising my eyebrow. Her eyes widened, and she grabbed for it, but I quickly pulled it out of her reach. "No way, you're not getting this one back. Now, why do you still have this?"

"You know why," she snapped, glaring at me intensely.

"Yes, I know why, but that's not what I meant, why do you still have this after supposedly giving Quinn your last one?"

"I never said it was my last one," she mumbled, looking down at her bed sheets.

"Yes, but you implied it," I pointed out, crossing my arms over my chest.

"To make Quinn feel better," she muttered under her breath.

"And how exactly does this make Quinn feel better?" I asked loudly as she shrunk further into the bed.

"If she thought I stopped cutting she wouldn't worry so much, but it obviously backfired after you practically ripped my shirt off," she spat venomously, glaring at me again.

"Okay Rachel, I think I speak for all of us when I say this, I would rather you let us know when your cutting, then pretend everything's peachy and acting like nothings happening, because that just ends up making everything worse for everyone."

"Why don't you all just leave me alone and let me deal with my own shitty life," she growled, crossing her arms.

"Because after everything I went through, there's no way I'm letting the same thing happen to you," I snarled, throwing my hands up in annoyance.

"Yeah? And what exactly was this horrendous thing that happened to you?" she asked testily.

"It's none of your business." I yelled jumping up off the bed.

"Yeah? Well newsflash, none of this is any of your business either," she shouted standing up next to me.

"What is going on in here?" Quinn asked as she entered the room.

"Not now!" me and Rachel yelled in unison before turning back to each other, leaving Quinn to walk out, slightly hurt.

"Fine," I hissed lowly, "I'll tell you, but nothing I'm about to say leaves this room, got it Berry?" Rachel nodded, sitting on the bed with a raised eyebrow. I took a deep breath before sitting down next to her. "When I was thirteen, my dad was on his way to work, and he was hit by a semi truck. He died on impact. My dad was everything to my mom, and she had no way of coping, or dealing with everything without him. This left me to raise the family, get a job, pay the bills; you name it while she was stumbling around, drunk off her ass." I paused and looked down at my hands. "I started sleeping around, boys, girls, anyone who would, but it didn't change anything, it still hurt, and every time I slept with someone, it would just break me a little more. Eventually, I got into cutting. I had finally found a release, something that would take the pain away. It started getting worse and worse, infections, blood loss, but I never went to a doctor. I couldn't with all the shit that was going down. Then I went too deep. I lost too much blood and ended up fainting in my bathroom. Miraculously, my mom was sober enough to work a phone, and she called an ambulance. I almost died; I woke up in the hospital three days later, hooked up to every machine known to man. After what seemed like forever, they finally released me and I went back to school. My mom knew she had a problem and went to rehab, while our aunt watched over us. Then I met Quinn and Brittany, they helped me back up on my feet, and watched out for me. They've been amazing friends, and if I would have had them sooner, this whole thing might never have happened. That's why I don't want this happening to you. You have no idea what it's like, or how scary it is until it actually happens. Trust me, I know it feels good now, but one mistake and everything could be over." I looked back up at the tiny diva, and saw the tears brimming her eyes. "And don't you go and feel sorry for me, I've had enough of that as it is, plus you have more than enough crap on your plate already." Rachel nodded and quickly wiped her eyes.

"I'm sorry…"

"What did I say about you feeling sorry for me? Don't. All is forgiven, now take off your clothes." The brunette looked up at me in shock. "What? I need to check your cuts." I stood up and headed into the bathroom to get the first aid kit. Rachel shook off the surprise and nodded before stripping out of her shirt and pants. I came out of the bathroom and winced at her stomach. I sighed and kneeled in front of her before grabbing her arms and inspecting them closely.

"Did you ever, you know, go this far?" Rachel asked quietly.

"Honestly?" I asked, looking into her deep brown eyes. She nodded and I turned back to inspecting her arm. "Never. I went deep once, but I didn't even do a fraction of the damage you did. No offense or anything, but I'm beginning to consider locking you in a rubber room in handcuffs just to stop you from hurting yourself, because this is getting out of control." I turned my attention to her stomach, and noticed that a couple letters were turning bright red, and had a yellow tinge, I ran my fingers over them, and Rachel flinched in pain. I quickly lay a hand across her forehead and noticed a low fever. "Dammit Berry, this is exactly what I was worried about," I half-yelled, digging through the first aid kit. "These fuckers are getting infected, and unless you want a doctor to see what you've done, I suggest you keep them as clean as possible." I quickly poured some hydrogen-peroxide across them before layering them with antibiotic and bandaging them. "There, all done," I said, dropping her shirt and standing up. Rachel looked down at her arms and traced a couple healing cuts.

"What about the scars?" she asked softly.

"Now those are permanent," I answered, putting everything back in the first aid kit, "Trust me, I've tried everything. Now let's go downstairs and eat something. Then we go to the duck ponds or something. We are not staying locked inside this huge house again all Saturday." I stood up, and began walking out the door, but stopped as Rachel began crying softly. I sighed and turned around, raising an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"I'm never going to be able to stop am I?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"Well I don't see how you're going to continue, since I took the last razor," I smirked, waving the blade around. Rachel blushed and looked down at her hands, looking slightly guilty. My smirk dropped and I pocketed the razor. "It's not the last one, is it?" I questioned, taking a step closet. The diva remained silent. "Dammit Rachel!" I huffed in frustration. "Okay, new rule, you will be at my, Quinn's or Brittany's side at all times, this includes when your changing, and when your in the bathroom." The brunette looked up at me with wide eyes.

"Santana! That's not fair!"

"What's not fair is you hurting yourself and not telling anybody. So deal with it." I grabbed her hand and led her down to the kitchen for breakfast.

Here's my update, review and answer the poll on my page if you want to help decide what happens next :)