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Chapter Text

It's 5:45am on the dot when she hears the air horn that is Santana's alarm go off. Stifling a groan, Shelby dares a peek at her bed partner, the 3-year-old's little pink sleep mask still in place despite the noise, her tiny thumb tucked firmly in her mouth as she sucks away at it in her sleep.

Rachel was just weaned from her pacifier a couple of months ago, which was difficult enough. Shelby has decided to pick her battles, and thumb sucking isn't on her to-do list to tackle right now. She just stripped Rachel of one comfort; it's way too soon to try and rip another away from her baby.

Exhaling softly, Shelby closes her eyes again but doesn't bother falling back asleep. She has too much on her mind. Today is a big day. It's the first day of senior year for her big girls, and Shelby can't help but feel emotional – and old – over the fact that she has two 17-year-olds. Her mind decides to add insult to injury by pointing out that her oldest son would be well into his 20s by now while Adriel would be starting junior year along with Blaine.

The 48-year-old certainly could've lived without those reminders this morning. Or any morning.

It's exactly 6:15am when little miss Rachel teeters on top of her mother's stomach and bounces lightly on the woman's bladder, a habit the child has had since the womb. Shelby keeps her eyes closed, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling when a tiny pointer finger pokes at her face.

The toddler has just unknowingly reminded her mother of just how many more years she has to do this, much to the mother's heart's joy.

Rachel usually tries to entertain herself (by doing scales and practicing her rendition of DROMP) during the summer months until her mommy wakes up for real but today is a special day for her. Today is the first day of Pre-K 4, and even though she's homeschooled right now, she still wants everyone – mainly her mommy – to start the day right along with her.

When her husband first passed, Shelby worried about having to sleep alone in an empty bed. Those fears were proven to be misplaced since Rachel's room is actually just a storage/playroom for the girl, Rachel never having actually spent a single night of her life in the space that was so painstakingly prepared for her.

But Shelby wouldn't have it any other way. Rachel is her little Mini Me. Her little partner in crime. Her baby can sleep with her for as long as she wants, as far as the woman is concerned.

"Mommy," Rachel whispers, poking at the older brunette's cheek again. She smiles devilishly, an idea striking as she softly starts to sing. "Hey Mr. Arms-teen, here I—"

"MA!" Santana booms. The bedroom door suddenly flings open, hitting the dresser from the force.

That gets Shelby's eyes shooting open and Rachel jumping at her big sister's loud entrance. Santana is never up on her own for school.

Unless it's Cheerios boot camp time.

Santana barges into the room and over to her mother's side of the bed. "Britt and I need cash for lunch. We're already almost running late for boot camp, and I'm not running extra laps while Coach chases us with a squirt gun full of rubbing alcohol on her Segway!"

Brittany appears behind the slightly older teen. "Did you get the cash? I want to see Artie before boot camp starts."

Artie and Britt made things official during sophomore year and have been together ever since. Well, with one exception last year, but they don't like to talk about that.

"You hafta knock, Sanny. It's bad manners not to," Rachel chastises, her little nose raised high in sheer indignance at her older sister's entrance. "You woke Mommy up!"

Santana scoffs at the toddler. "Woke her up? You're literally sitting on top of her," the older brunette points out.

Rachel's face scrunches adorably, the little girl not understanding the connection. "I was singing, Sanny! You was – were," she quickly corrects herself like she was taught, "just being loud!"

The older girl stares her little sister down, a hand thrown on her uniform-clad hip. "Newsflash: nobody wants to hear your singing at 6am."

Not missing a beat, Rachel says, "Mommy does! But no yelling! Right, Mommy?" The tiny tot turns her head to look down at her mother.

Shelby sighs heavily as she pulls herself up in bed, bringing Rachel with her, the pair now chest-to-chest. On second thought, maybe she won't miss this part. At least not with all three of her girls on her case at once. "Can somebody grab my wallet, please?"

Brittany slides past Santana, said wallet in hand. "Here ya go."

Shelby eyes the blonde. Normally, she'd reprimand any of the girls for going into her purse, but right now she's too tired to care about anything more than meeting the needs of her children in the hopes that they'll yell less at this hour.

Of course, Rachel, unlike her mother, can't let the act go. "Did you go in Mommy's purse?" she asks, big brown eyes wide in fear. You never go in Mommy's purse without asking.

Santana rolls her eyes in annoyance. She really doesn't want to run those laps and was hoping for a minute or two with Quinn, if she were being honest. "Shut up, Runt."

Before Rachel can even launch her complaint, Shelby intervenes. "Unless you want to run laps for me, Santana, then I suggest you curb your attitude and watch how you talk to your sister," she threatens, tired eyes narrowed at her eldest.

Shelby implemented laps around the backyard for Santana after Will was killed. It proved to be a good way for Santana to burn off some energy when angry or upset. The dance studio in the basement serves a similar purpose during inclement weather.

The mother will gladly add to the Latina's laps run if it helps adjust the girl's attitude.

Santana groans, none-too-pleased with already being in trouble so early in the morning on the first day of her senior year. "Sorry, Rach," she mumbles.

Shelby holds her breath, wondering how her youngest will respond. This could go one of two ways. She could find herself in the midst of a face-off between her little diva and her not-so-little hot head. She finds herself breathing again when her toddler nods.

"It's okay, Sanny," Rachel says graciously.

Shelby buries her face in the top of Rachel's head, planting a kiss there in the process. She's both proud and impressed with her little one handling Santana's attitude so well this early in the morning. "Thank you, baby," Shelby coos. "That was very kind of you."

Santana rolls her eyes again at the scene, grabbing the wallet from the bed and digging the cash out herself. She takes two ten-dollar bills for herself and Britt.

Before Shelby can even register what's just happened, the older girls are out the door and on the way down to their shared car, running just on time to not be late.

"Have a good first day, girls," Shelby sighs to the empty doorway, shaking her head as what just transpired starts to sink in.

"You and me will have a good day, right, Mommy?" Rachel points out, trying to make her mommy feel better.

It works like a charm because Shelby holds tighter to her baby and rocks her gently with a dazzling smile. "We most certainly will, baby girl."

Shelby and Rachel are in the basement having their little piano lesson when Shelby's phone rings, Al Motta's contact information popping up on the screen.

Curious and confused, Shelby gets up and steps away from the piano while Rachel continues hitting keys in the background. "Hello?" she answers.

"Shelby, thank God!" Al yelps in relief.

Shelby grows even more confused at the reaction, concern starting to build. "Is everything okay, Mr. Motta?"

"Did you hear about Holly?" the man asks.

Shelby's face falls. "What about Holly? Is she okay?"

Al laughs bitterly on the other line. "If you consider leaving McKinley High to 'find herself again' to be okay, then yes, she's absolutely fine."

The brunette woman pulls her phone away from her face, seeing that she has an unread text from Cassie. Guess she probably should've read that sooner. "Well, the timing isn't ideal with it being the girls' senior year, but I wish her all the best," Shelby says, not quite sure why this warranted such a frantic phone call from the man.

"Isn't ideal?! Shelby, this is a disaster! We managed to only place 12th at Nationals last year with the combined efforts of Holly and Cassie. Imagine what it will look like with only Cassie!" The man takes a breath from his ranting, deciding to get right to it. "No. I won't have it. Not with it being my Sugar's senior year. We need a win at Nationals this year, Shelby, and I am determined to get just that."

Shelby strolls back over to the piano, turning the page of sheet music for Rachel to work on reading that music next. Yes, her daughter can read music better than she can actual words so far. Sue her. "I'm afraid I'm not following, Mr. Motta. How do you intend to secure a win?" she asks, fearing that he's about to disclose some dubious tactics to her that will get the New Directions disqualified.

Only what he says is worse.

"With you, Coach Corcoran," he responds simply.

Shelby steps away from the piano again, her lips pursed. "With me? Mr. Motta, I don't coach anymore, you know that—"

"I'll pull the funding from the arts programs if you don't come on as co-coach, Shelby." He cuts her off, leaving the woman stunned. "I'm not asking you to teach again. All I need is for you to co-coach the glee club. You'll be suitably reimbursed for your time and efforts."

Shelby stands there, slack-jawed and nearly speechless. This sounds a lot like blackmail. "Mr. Motta, pulling the funding from McKinley will hurt Sugar, too," she points out, thinking that he hasn't thought this through.

"Not if I have her – and my financial support – transferred to Carmel," he shoots back.

Shelby feels the ground beneath her grow soft as the room tilts a bit. This can't be happening. This is her kids' club they're talking about. Her best friend's livelihood is at stake. She needs to be 100% clear as to what he's threatening. "So, you're saying that, if I don't agree to come on as co-coach, then you'll pull Sugar and funding for the arts programs from McKinley?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, and I need an answer by today. As in now, Mrs. Corcoran."

Shelby's face morphs into a scowl before she covers it up with a forced smile when her baby looks back at her in concern. With the smile still in place and a fabricated cheeriness to her voice for her daughter's sake, she says, "My youngest and I will be at glee practice this afternoon." Rachel bounces in place, beaming in excitement over hearing that she gets to go to glee practice with the big kids.

Shelby's glad that at least one of them is happy.

Al smiles victoriously on the other end. "I knew you'd see things my way. Welcome back, Coach Corcoran."

Shelby sighs as she hangs up. Cassie is either going to be relieved or insulted. Or both. Shelby just hopes the blonde woman controls her reaction for the sake of Rachel and the older kids.

Chapter Text

Shelby speaks to Cassie during her free period, the blonde responding with a resounding, "Oh thank fuck!" over not having to "deal with these little shits on her own." Cassie was pissed when Holly dropped the bomb that she'd be leaving her high and dry. They had a system, and Holly was ruining all of that. Well, that's what Cassie thought until Shelby came on board. Now the system will be better than ever since the brunette is 10 times the vocal/show choir coach that Holly is. Was.

In fact, Cassie was the one to text both Al Motta and Shelby that Holly was leaving. She figured Al deserved to be one of the first people to know…and she needed to plant the bug in his ear about her best friend.

But Shelby doesn't need to know that.

Buckling Rachel into her car seat with a loud kiss to the toddler's forehead, Shelby climbs into the driver seat and immediately puts Celine and Barbra's Tell Him on repeat to occupy her baby girl. She needs some time to mentally prepare herself for her teens' (and nephew's) reactions to her coaching them as well as coaching again in general.

What if she can't win it all? What if she's lost her touch and can't even get to Nationals? She hasn't coached in years now, and when she did, she was a much different woman. She wasn't coaching her own kids and wasn't a mother for most of the time that she coached Vocal Adrenaline. She just was hardass Coach Corcoran who took no prisoners and made children cry without batting an eye, and that was how she got results.

She can't be that person anymore. She wouldn't know how to be even if she wanted to.

Will she still be able to get results? Will she be able to get these kids to win? This team's claim to fame is that they have heart. Shelby is more used to coaching the fleshy equivalent of pompous robots. She built her reputation on being ruthless and sometimes downright cruel and knowing no bounds.

Who in their right mind would have a group perform solely on their hands? She did it because they said it couldn't be done. Looking back, she put those kids through hell. Was it worth it, though? They won, sure, but did they have to do that in order to win? And at what cost? There were so many injuries with that routine.

But she had performers lined up as replacements at Carmel. Nobody was irreplaceable, as awful as that is to say now. However, that isn't the case at McKinley with their constant struggle just to secure 12 members to compete. She and Cassie can't just push these kids to the brink. Not that she has the heart to do that now anyway.

Back in her VA days, she had gimmicks, discipline, and pushed boundaries that shouldn't have been pushed. She can't do that to these kids. She can't do that to her kids or Blaine. She doesn't have it in her anymore. Motherhood has softened her. Happiness and seeing her dreams come true has softened her.

Rachel, studying her mommy through the side mirror during a break in the looped song, interrupts Shelby's train of thought. "You sad, Mommy?" Rachel has been in tune with her mommy's emotions since she was an infant.

Shelby startles a bit as she's pulled out of her own head. "No, baby. Mommy's just thinking."

"'Bout what, Mommy? Glee?" Shelby is forever impressed by her toddler's intuitiveness.

"Actually, yes. Mommy hasn't coached glee club since you were just an itty-bitty baby in my belly," Shelby says, using the higher pitched voice that her daughter loves whenever she talks about these things.

Rachel's face lights up the way it always does when her mommy tells little stories. "Don't worry, Mommy," she says sagely. "You're the bestest ever! You gotta show Auntie Cass how it's done," she finishes with a definitive nod of her head.

Shelby beams at her little girl through the rearview mirror. How did she get so lucky to have such amazing kids? Rachel never ceases to amaze her. "Thank you, baby," she says genuinely. "We just maybe won't tell Auntie Cass that, okay?" That would go over about as well as a mime entertaining a room full of blind kids.

Rachel nods her understanding, making a point to pretend to zip her lips, causing her mother to chuckle at her baby's silliness. Suddenly, the older brunette feels a rush of confidence surge through her. She feels like she has the ability to be a better coach than ever with all of her girls at her side. She doesn't need to be the coach that she was before. She just needs to be the best for them, and that's something she's intimately familiar with.

Really, how lucky is she to get to work with her kids? When she looks at it like that, she's just as excited about this opportunity as Rachel. She hopes her older girls see it that way as well.

The choir room goes silent the second Shelby walks through the door with Rachel on her hip. Mrs. Corcoran's reputation precedes her, but her reputation now is mostly just as Santana and Brittany's mom and Blaine's aunt. As the woman sets her youngest child down, a chorus of "oooo" is heard throughout the room, the teens thinking that at least two of their friends are clearly in trouble.

Shelby smirks at the reaction. In reality, they're all in for trouble now that Coach Corcoran is on board. "Half of you are flat. The other half is off-key, but we'll fix that," she winks at Cass.

Rachel, in the meantime, marches up to the piano, climbs up on her feet next to Brad, and sets her little sheet music book next to his with a bright smile on her face despite the fact that she can only play notes and not actual songs due to her fingers being too tiny. Brad stares at the child, who's the size of a very small 2-year-old, and once again wonders why the hell he doesn't take his talents elsewhere. He sure as hell won't be playing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

Santana watches the interaction between the piano player and her baby sister carefully, ready to pounce if he so much as says "boo" to the tiny tot.

"Santana," Shelby calls. "Eyes up here," she orders with a snap of her left hand. Shelby is also keeping an eye on the exchanges between Brad and Rachel, so Santana's vigilance, while sweet, is wholly unnecessary.

"Ma," Santana groans, trying to get back some of her street cred in front of her giggling friends, "what are you two even doing here?" she says lowly.

Cassie steps up to the front middle of the audience. "Well, Santana," the blonde says with delight, "she's not your Ma in this room anymore." Shelby looks at Cass, not sure she likes this approach. Cassie continues. "She's Coach Corcoran, and she's here to replace Ms. Holliday, who, as most of you heard, resigned this morning to go chase after guys in bars or something equally as idiotic."

"Cassie," Shelby warns in a whisper.

Rachel turns from where she's seated on the piano bench. "Idiot is not a nice word, Auntie Cass," she informs the woman.

Cassie sticks her tongue out, much to Shelby's horror, and responds with, "Good thing I said 'idiotic' and not 'idiot', Squirt."

"Cassandra!" Shelby hisses, ignoring the laughter around her. "Be the adult, for God's sake. I don't want to have to coach you right along with the children."

Cassie's eyes narrow as the teens laugh even harder. "Enough!" she barks, effectively bringing the group to silence. "Coach Corcoran is here because some people, me included, find her presence necessary after Ms. Holliday left, even though it was Holly's idea to do the original songs last year that landed us in 12th place," Cass grumbles.

Kurt raises his hand, waiting for a coach to give him permission to speak. Once they do, he says, "I'm pretty sure it was Brittany and Artie's over-the-top reunion make-out session that landed us in 12th place."

That reminder earns the boy a firm elbow to his ribs from his boyfriend. Blaine doesn't want his cousin to be shamed over that incident again or for Warpath Shelby to be brought out so soon.

Before anyone can do more than nod their head in agreement, Shelby cuts in. "We're getting off track here. I'm here to help Coach July make sure that you win it all this year, and that's exactly what I intend to do. You don't win by sitting around chit chatting or arguing amongst yourselves," she says with authority.

Shelby looks at her watch. They have about another 10 minutes until open tryouts for new kids begin. Will purposely made it so that open tryouts started 20 minutes after the start of practice so that the old members could settle in a bit. Cassie and Holly have kept that tradition in place.

Shelby decides to start them all off with some scales instead of letting them goof around for the remainder of the time. During the scales, little Rachel picks up on something and quickly toddles over to her mommy and politely requests to be picked up.

Shelby, always all too happy to fulfill that request, brings the toddler up close enough for Rachel to whisper in her mother's ear. Once the girl's finished, Shelby says, "Show me who," and gently places her baby back on her feet. Rachel proceeds to wind her way through the rows of chairs, tapping the knees of over half of the group members before heading back over towards Brad.

Cassie watches curiously, wondering what the pair is up to.

Shelby folds her arms across her chest, her heels clicking pointedly as she paces the front of the room. "It's been brought to my attention that some of you, correction, most of you, are not actually singing when doing your scales," she says, leading to mostly everyone's – Cassie's included – eyes bugging out at the accusation.

Matt Rutherford, one of the ones who had his knee tapped by the tiny kid, speaks up. He points to Rachel while doing so. "What is she even doing here? This is a high school, not a day care."

Santana and Brittany are up and out of their seats, facing the dude who had the balls to just say that. "She's 3, you moron. Where our mother goes, she goes," Santana heatedly informs her teammate, Brittany furiously nodding her agreement.

Shelby, who had been ready to all but jump on the kid herself, is proud of her girls for the assist and of Rachel for catching on to the fact that most students weren't actually singing.

Still, she can't let some things go. "Santana, no name-calling. Sit down, please. Brittany, take a seat as well," she instructs, waiting for them to obey before continuing. She looks to Matt. "What is your name?"

Matt has suddenly lost his confidence from just a few moments ago. "M-Matt R-r-rutherford, Coach."

Shelby smiles internally. She's still got it when it comes to putting the fear of God in kids. "Mr. Rutherford, you were, in fact, not singing. Just because a 3-year-old called you out on that does not give you the right to speak ill towards her. In fact, none of you have the right to be rude to my daughter. She will be with me for every practice and every competition. If you have a problem with that, there's the door," Shelby points to the door closest to her for emphasis.

A door that just so happens to have three students standing outside of it. Shelby motions for them to come in. "Welcome!" she greets, as if she hadn't just been laying down the law two seconds ago. "Please find any open seat. We will get started in a moment with your auditions."

One boy quickly moves to sit next to Brittany, much to Artie's dismay. Brittany, sensing this, quickly gets to her feet and moves to sit on her boyfriend's lap, making a statement for all the newbies to see.

And for her mother to see, who is not happy with her daughter's method of sending a message. Before Shelby can say anything, though, Cassie is pulled out of her those-little-fuckers-have-not-been-singing-all-this-time-induced stupor and takes action. "Uh uh. I don't think so. All butts should be on plastic, not on laps," she declares with no room for argument.

Sugar slides into Brittany's seat before Britt can get back into it, forcing the blonde to take Sugar's former seat. Sugar, putting on her best "bedroom eyes" that actually look more like she's twitching, turns to Rory and purrs. Literally purrs. "Earn this," she says, before planting a kiss to his cheek.

Meanwhile, the other young man, the one with the guitar, takes the empty seat in the row in front of Quinn, making sure to catch her eye and flash a smile at her before he takes his seat.

Santana glares daggers at the boy while the third and final newbie, a girl with a guitar, takes the empty seat next to the Latina.

Shelby shakes her head, relieved that she didn't have to play the bad guy with her kid a moment ago on the first day but also realizing just how undisciplined and unserious this group is. She steps back up, trying to get things back on track. Two of the three kids brought guitars with them, so she decides to focus on one of them first. "Young man, why don't you get us started off. Tell us your first and last name and the song you'll be performing."

A tall, slender teen with dark dreadlocks steps up to the front with his guitar. "My name is Joe Hart, and I'll be performing an acoustic version of Stereo Hearts by Maroon 5."

Santana rolls her eyes, which causes Rachel to toddle over to her biggest sister and worm her way onto the older girl's lap, knowing that Sanny needs a reason to calm down.

Shelby melts at the action. Her girls can be so sweet with each other, and Rachel is just too precious for words.

As Joe sings, he looks at Quinn the entire time, even producing a rose at the end that he hands to her. Quinn, in typical Quinn fashion, is eating it up with a spoon as she bites her lip and gives this kid, what Santana knows to be, her flirty smile.

It makes Santana feel sick to her stomach.

Next up is Rory Flanagan, who sings Take Care of Yourself by Teddy Thompson while looking mostly at Sugar, still confused as to what "earn this" means but figuring he's got to try something.

Sugar claps extra loud and declares, "That's my man!" when he's finished, much to Rory's surprise and delight.

And lastly is the girl with the guitar. "Dani Rodriguez. I'll be performing an acoustic version of Here Comes the Sun by The Beetles."

Having sensed the tension in the girl she sat down next to, Dani decides to make the brunette who looked so shattered her focus as she sings. At first, Santana doesn't appear to pay attention, but as Dani's voice washes over the room, Santana finally makes eye contact.

Something stutters in her chest, and Quinn doesn't miss the change in San's demeanor. Neither do Shelby, Brittany, Rachel, Blaine, or Cassie, for that matter.

This is going to be an interesting school year, Shelby thinks.

Chapter Text

Shelby carries a snuggly Rachel through the front door of her brother's house as she follows her older girls over to the shoe station in the foyer where Emma has everyone leave their footwear. Part of the redhead's therapy is to host family dinner every third turn, as having so many people in her home at once pushes her out of her comfort zone in a safe way.

Shelby removes Rachel's shoes while stepping out of her own heels. Not even the toddler is exempt from the shoe rule. As a matter of fact, the rule may have been made specifically for the tiny girl.

The girls make it to the living room first, receiving their hugs from their grandparents and their Uncle Carl before fist bumping Cooper and taking a seat in between Blaine and Cassie on the sectional. Cassie has been a regular at family dinners since moving to Ohio a little over 4 years ago.

James, Naomi, and Carl all wait patiently for Shelby to enter with their little princess, bombarding the pair the second they step foot in the living room.

"Come to Bubbe, baby," Naomi coos as she reaches for her youngest grandchild.

"Geez, Ma," Carl starts to complain. "Why do you always get her first?"

Rachel giggles as she's carefully passed to her grandmother, the little one loving it whenever her family "fights" over who gets her first or for the longest. Even though who gets her the longest is always Mommy.

James moves in to lightly tickle his grandbaby's sides, delighting in the way her giggles turn into peals of laughter. "Uncle Carl will just have to wait because Poppy gets her next," the grandfather informs his son.

Rachel catches her breath and looks between her Poppy and Uncle Carl. "Don't worry, boys. There's 'nough of me to go around," she says innocently.

Naomi gasps as they all gape at the toddler. "Who taught you to say that?" Bubbe demands to know, her matching brown eyes meeting Rachel's.

The gazes of all the older kids slide to where their aunt is sitting on the couch. Cassie quietly, but quickly, grabs her half-empty glass and tries to slink off to the kitchen under the guise of needing a refill.

"Halt, Cassandra!" Shelby calls out. When Cassie doubles her pace to the kitchen, Shelby sighs and rolls her eyes at her guilty best friend's temporary escape. She turns back to the rest of her family in exasperation. "I think we have our answer."

Santana can't take it anymore. She finally busts out in a fit of giggles after trying so hard to hold it in. Blaine follows, and soon all of the kids – Cooper included – are laughing hysterically. The domino effect spreads to Carl then James, and soon even Shelby is unable to help but to crack a smile at everyone else's reactions.

Naomi huffs, holding the baby of the family impossibly close to her. "You, my little angel baby, don't need to be saying that to any boys for a long time. Especially not to Sammy or that little Puckerman boy," she tuts in disapproval.

Samuel Evans and Noah Puckerman have been constants in Rachel's life since they were all infants and their mothers were in the same Mommy & Me class. The two little boys are known to "fight" over Rachel, with Noah having quite a lot to say on the matter for a 4-year-old. Naomi is less than impressed with the mouth that he has on him already.

Shelby sighs again, not prepared to have this argument with her mother for the umpteenth time. "He's 4, Ma. They're babies," the younger brunette points out.

Naomi shakes her head at her daughter. "Even still, she certainly doesn't need to be saying that to him of all children." She turns to the toddler in her arms. "Isn't that right, my little darling?" She nuzzles her face into Rachel's, causing the little girl to giggle at the sensation.

"I'm my own woman, Bubbe," Rachel proudly declares with a nod, causing the adults to turn to mush at the cuteness.

Naomi lights up at the response. "That's right, my sweet girl," she peppers Rachel with kisses. "The only men you need are in this house."

"He's one of her best friends, Bubbe," Brittany states, trying to stick up for both her sister and little Puck. She finds him to be such a little cutie and thinks their friendship is adorable.

"When's dinner going to be done?" Santana cuts in, examining her nails in a disinterested fashion. She's growing bored of hearing the same conversation that she's heard time and time again since Puck first declared Rachel to be his "Jew Babe" before he was even 3.

"Santana," Shelby warns, sensing the girl's attitude creeping in and wanting to head it off at the pass.

"What?" Santana shrugs, not seeing anything wrong with her question. "Can't a girl be hungry at dinner time?"

Emma walks in from the dining room, having overheard the exchange. "Places are all set, and dinner is ready to be served!" she announces. Cassie is already in her usual seat, casually sipping away on some Diet Coke like she didn't nearly reignite a war mere minutes ago.

James and Carl each hold Rachel and give her hugs for a quick moment before returning her to Shelby, the mother carrying the tiny tot into the dining room and getting her settled on her lap. Rachel's kid-friendly utensils and little Disney princess plate always get set at the same seat as her mother's place setting. It works out well since Shelby eats with her left hand and Rachel eats with her right.

Rachel isn't quite tall enough for a typical booster seat, and she has decided that being in a highchair at 3 years old is "insulting to her as a person," so Shelby's lap is the compromise at mealtimes.

Once they're all seated and have passed around the food (another therapeutic goal of Emma's), Naomi, as usual, starts off the conversation. "How was the first day of school for you three?" Her gaze roves over Blaine, Brittany, and Santana.

"Fine," Santana starts. "Coach Sylvester is still insane. She hired actors with chainsaws to chase after us on the track today at boot camp," she finishes, taking a bite of her chicken. "At least I think they were actors," she adds as an afterthought.

Naomi nearly chokes on her own food. Everyone else at the table seems unsurprised by the news. "Were the chainsaws real?" she asks, horrified at this new revelation.

"Knowing Sue…probably," Emma answers, scooping up a spoonful of mashed potatoes off her plate.

Naomi scoffs, and James intervenes before his wife can go off on a tirade. "Yes, my dear, the woman is a menace, but the girls are no worse for wear." He looks to his older granddaughters for confirmation. "Right, ladies?"

At their nod, he continues. "What else happened today?"

Brittany fields this one. "Mom is now co-coach of our glee club," she says with a wide grin, putting down her fork to do a few little happy claps.

Now that information gets a reaction out of the rest of the adults at the table. Well, minus Cassie.

Shelby sets her cutlery down and speaks up before any questions can be fired at her. "No, I'm not teaching again. I'm strictly co-coaching with Cassie since Holly resigned earlier this morning. No, I will not be taking or using the same approaches that I did with Vocal Adrenaline, so there's no need to worry about anyone's safety," she adds for the sake of her brother and sister-in-law whose son is on the team.

"What about Rachel?" Emma asks, relieved to know that her son won't be subjected to the full wrath of Coach Corcoran. Emma heard the rumors from other guidance counselors over the years.

Rachel's head whips up towards her mommy, the toddler confused by the question. Shelby has an eerily similar reaction to the redhead's query.

"I can take her!" Naomi volunteers, her hand shooting up with gusto before Shelby can answer. The grandmother's always ready for more time with her baby bubbeleh.

Rachel shifts in Shelby's lap, turning into her mother and clutching on to the front of the woman's blouse with both hands, as if someone were trying to take her away. She loves her Bubbe and her family, but she doesn't like the idea of being away from her mommy every day, even if it's only for a few hours.

Shelby holds tight to Rachel, rubbing her baby's little back soothingly while addressing her mother. "Thank you for the offer, Ma, but Rachel will be coming with me," she informs the older woman while reassuring her youngest at the same time. She feels Rachel relax her grip a bit.

"Speaking of that, Rach," Blaine jumps in, "could you maybe not call me Blainey, Boo, or Blainey Boo at school?" he requests, looking directly at his baby cousin, the most likely culprit. He assumes that his aunt knows better.

Rachel's little brows knit in confusion. "Why?"

Blaine looks to his aunt with pleading eyes, silently begging for help here.

Shelby swallows her food then clears her throat before addressing her youngest nephew. "She's 3, Boo. I think the team will understand."

Rachel nods definitively at her big cousin. "Yeah, Boo," she agrees with her mommy.

"Besides," Shelby continues, scooping her next bite onto her spoon, "if they don't, they can see me about it," she says seriously. Nobody is going to mess with her kids or her nephew on her watch. There will be hell to pay.

"Or answer to me," Cassie chimes in, trying to be supportive.

"You all could just call him by his middle name," Cooper interrupts with a wicked grin.

Blaine's eyes narrow at his older brother. "You wouldn't," he challenges.

"Oh, but we both know that I would, Carlos," Coop spills the beans.

Santana guffaws and Brittany squeals at this new tidbit they just learned about their cousin. Only the adults (and Cooper and Blaine) knew Blaine's middle name before.

Yes, his middle name is Carlos. Emma wanted it to be Carl to honor the boy's father, but Carl hates his name. He feels like it's an old man's name. He suggested Carlos as a joke, and it stuck.

"So, what'll it be, Blaine? Boo or Carlos?" Santana teases.

Carl swoops in, trying to have mercy on his son. "Hey, Rach, why don't you call him 'B' like I do?"

"BeeBee!" Rachel cheers with her arms lifted in excitement.

Blaine groans, lowering his head to rest his forehead on the table in defeat.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Brittany adds her own two cents. "San is Sanny. I'm Britt-Britt. Mom is Mommy. Quinn is Quinnie. Kurt is Ki-Ki. None of us are bothered by it," she shrugs.

"Hold on," Emma says, "I have a pamphlet for this somewhere!" She gets up from the table and moves towards her downstairs office.

"Ugh, just never mind," Blaine moans. "Boo it is."

"Yay!" Rachel cheers, clapping her little hands with a pleased smile that spreads around the table like wildfire. Her happiness is infectious. Even to Blaine.

"What made you decide to return to coaching, Shells?" Carl asks, wanting to move on from the nickname topic before things could possibly flare up again.

Shelby is all too grateful for her brother's efforts. "Well, I didn't have much choice, actually." Honesty. She's going for honesty.

That gets the attention of the three teens at the table.

"What do you mean, Aunt Shel?" Blaine asks.

Shelby takes a breath, rocking Rachel from side-to-side. "Al Motta, Sugar's dad, called me earlier today and informed me that, since Ms. Holliday was leaving, he wanted me to come on as co-coach."

"That sounds like there was a choice in there to me," Santana mumbles around her mouthful of green beans.

"You didn't let me finish," Shelby looks sternly at her eldest, "and please don't talk with your mouth full." She really didn't think she would have to tell her 17-year-old that, but here they are. "As I was saying," she continues pointedly, "he wanted me to come on as co-coach. If I didn't accept his offer, then he threatened to pull Sugar and his funding for the arts programs – including Cassie's salary, the dance classes, and the glee club – from McKinley."

Cassie's fork hits her plate with a clang. "He did what?!" She knew he'd be making a play to bring Shelby on board, but she didn't know he was taking it that far and dangling her livelihood over the edge like that.

"Yep," Shelby replies, popping the 'p.' "And he told me I basically had to have an answer for him right there on the spot, so of course I agreed," she finishes, looking from her older girls and Blaine back to Cassie. She can tell that they understand that she's doing this for them. Mostly.

"Wow, Aunt Shel," Blaine says, still taken aback, "I think I speak for all three of us," he looks to his older cousins with a nod, "when I say thank you."

Shelby gives them all a soft smile. "You know I'd do anything for you guys," she responds, kissing the top of Rachel's head as her green eyes land on both of her nephews before moving to her older girls. That message goes for all of them, even if one is considered a fully grown man. Cooper's still a kid to her and always will be. They all will.

Santana blushes uncomfortably under all the sentimentality but jumps in anyway. "Yeah, Ma. That was pretty cool of you," she says sincerely. That's high praise coming from the Latina, and everyone knows it.

Shelby nods, her smile only growing.

Brittany gets out of her seat, moves over to her mother, and bends down to hug both the woman and Rachel. "We love you, Mom."

Shelby nearly tears up at the action, grabbing onto her middle daughter as best as she can with one arm.

"Add me in on the 'thank you' train, Corcoran," Cassie waves her pointer finger once, also not great with sentimental moments but grateful for the fact that her best friend saved her job.

"All right, all right, enough with the thank yous," Shelby says, not wanting to have to wipe at her eyes. She appreciates the gratitude, but it's not strictly necessary. She didn't do it for the thanks.

Part of the reason she did it was also partially the reason why she'd avoided it for so long.

Will.

Attending parent-teacher conferences, cheer competitions, and Invitationals at McKinley is one thing, but being a show choir coach there was a completely different ballgame.

Before, Shelby couldn't bear the thought of standing where her husband stood. Of writing on the same whiteboard or staging performances on the same auditorium stage.

But when Al Motta threatened to bulldoze right through everything her husband had worked so hard to build, she suddenly couldn't stand the thought of not standing where he stood and writing on that old whiteboard.

She's doing this for her kids, nephew, and best friend, yes, but she's also doing this for Will. For his memory and legacy to carry on at that school.

She also wants her baby to have a chance to be a part of the New Directions some day, and that can't happen if the club falls apart.

If that means she has to come on as co-coach, she can't imagine anyone Will would be more thrilled to have in his place than the love of his too-short life.

"So," Carl starts, breaking through his sister's spiraling thoughts, "how do you plan to gain their respect?" he asks. "From what I've seen and heard, they're quite a different group than you may be used to working with."

Naomi, who'd noticed the faraway look on her daughter's face only a moment ago and knows what that meant, chimes in. "Do you remember what Will did when he first started the club? He had all sorts of drama in the two years he was there," she mentions.

They don't always talk about the late man, but there are times where he comes up, and this is one of those times where it's warranted. They need to be able to reminisce on the good times, especially for the girls' sakes.

Shelby nods, a smile creeping up on her face at the memory.

She isn't here to scope out any competition or to poach any people. Hell, these kids can barely be considered as competition for her kids. They don't stand a chance against her team. But, then again, they don't have to.

At least not yet.

No, she's not here for anything nefarious or undignified. She's here to support her husband and likely get some light comic relief to distract her from the stress that comes along with the adoption process.

She has a free afternoon for once, so she decides to sneak into her husband's tiny office and see what all the hype and excitement every night when he comes home is all about. This little club of his has reignited a spark in him that she hasn't seen in quite some time.

She's a little jealous, but not in the way that you'd think. She's jealous of him for finding something that brings him joy (outside of her) again.

She wishes she could say the same about her own career endeavors. Hell, she wishes she could say the same in general.

She watches, undetected, as his kids (yeah, that hurts too much to say) – students – start to file in. Their numbers are pathetic, but she knows he's working on it. It's only a few minutes before her husband enters, shutting the choir room door behind him.

"Okay, guys," he says with a clap of his hands, but Shelby doesn't hear much else beyond that.

Her husband – her sweater vest-loving, khaki-wearing husband – is currently sporting a white t-shirt that clings to his muscular chest and a pair of jeans that fit in all the right places.

To say she's distracted would be an understatement.

She doesn't snap out of it until she realizes that he's getting ready to perform. She moves in her seat to get a better view only to proceed to have a front row seat to Will rapping Ice Ice Baby while he breakdances.

Shelby would never with her students, but much to her surprise, it appears as though these particular kids are actually getting into it.

She watches as they dance and rap together, all smiles and laughter by the end. Will's smile is the biggest of all.

God, he's going to make such a great dad if they could ever just get through this adoption process. She wishes she could record this and send it to the adoption agencies to let this moment tell its own story about her husband's character and what he'd be like as a father.

Before she knows it, the choir room is clear, save for Will, and she decides to make her appearance.

"Fancy seeing you here," she says, her voice sultry.

Will spins around when he hears her, his heart visibly hammering in his chest thanks to that tight t-shirt. "Are you here to spy on us, Mrs. Corcoran? Feeling threatened?" he teases as he smoothly shuffles towards her.

"No, and not in the slightest. Although, I did like what I saw from my husband," she says huskily, her pupils wide with desire.

"Oh, really?" he purrs, reaching for the remote to the little stereo system. "Well how about you get a little taste of it up close and personal?" He pulls her to him, pressing play on the remote.

The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra floats around them as Will takes the lead and glides effortlessly about the room with his beautiful bride.

"You really do look stunning, as always," Will compliments as he dips her slightly.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Schuester, and I think we need to be heading home after this song finishes." She has other uses in mind for his limber hips.

Will stops the song then and there, scooping up his beloved to carry her bridal-style out of the building and to his car, not caring that they drove separately.

Shelby is pulled from the memory when she feels her face starting to flush. She remembers that evening all too well, but she doesn't need to be remembering the rest during family dinner. She turns to Cassie.

"Have you ever performed for the kids before? Or even with them?" she asks.

"For those little sh—" she catches herself just in time, "darlings? No. You know I haven't performed for anyone but your Mini-Me since I was in New York," Cassie answers. She leaves the umbrella incident out. She doesn't need any of the kids asking questions or looking up YouTube videos about that.

"Dust off your ballet slippers, July, because you're going to do an interpretive dance in the foreground while I sing Funny Girl in E-flat to the kids," Shelby decides for the both of them, silently thanking Will for the idea…and the memory.

Santana, Brittany, and Blaine are actually thrilled at the prospect of seeing their mom/aunt perform. They love it when she does and all think the others will be really receptive to it.

Because, yeah, Shelby really is that good.

A little hand taps Shelby's larger one. "What about me, Mommy? I hafta put on a show too!" Rachel insists. If there is a performance happening, she wants in!

Shelby smiles warmly at her baby girl. "How about we make it a duet, hmm?" she coos at her little one. Shelby wants the other kids to respect Rachel's presence there as well, so this works out perfectly.

Rachel beams, the sight impossibly adorable, as she nods her head hard enough to shake Shelby in their chair.

Blaine stands, having just excused himself from the table, and holds a hand out to his baby cousin. "What do you say we head downstairs to practice on the little stage, Princess?" he suggests, knowing she won't be able to eat anymore or even think about dessert now that she knows a performance is on the horizon.

He'll tire her out to the point where she can sip on a little protein shake on her way home. He looks to his aunt for approval. The act is a bit late, but she nods anyway. She would've liked to see Rachel eat some more, but she also knows that won't be happening now with as excited as her baby is.

Rachel turns to her mother before reaching the dining room doorway. "You too, Mommy?" She holds out her free little hand in invitation.

Shelby's heart melts at the sight, but she needs a moment to herself after all the reminders that today brought. Blaine clearly knew that. Really, they all knew that. He was just the first to act.

"I'll be there in a little bit, baby," she assures the toddler, watching as the two leave the room.

Shelby makes sure the pair is all the way down the basement steps before excusing herself to the bathroom, pulling up a picture of Will on her phone, and crying her heart out as she clutches the device to her chest.

Chapter Text

Shelby awakens to the sound of her baby girl softly (for a 3-year-old) humming the tune to Funny Girl. She's been practicing nonstop since family dinner the night before, and the only reason she hasn't added the lyrics right now is out of respect for her sleeping mommy.

Shelby can't think of many better ways to wake up than to the melody as she smiles, her eyes slowly blinking open. Rachel catches the change immediately, and all pretense of being quiet goes out the window as she cheers, "Mommy!" while throwing herself at the woman.

Shelby catches the little body with ease, holding tight to her baby in the hopes of getting some coveted morning snuggles. Apparently, though, Rachel has other ideas.

"We hafta go downstairs, Mommy. Breh-fast is ready!" she announces excitedly, rubbing her little tummy in anticipation of all the goodies that have been prepared.

All of the sudden, a sweet scent fills Shelby's nostrils, overtaking all of her other senses for a moment. She grins, knowing that her older girls must be hard at work in the kitchen, her brain not even questioning the fact that it's a school day and they have boot camp first thing in the morning.

Shelby gets out of bed, almost floating, and scoops up her baby, tickling the toddler in the ribs with her free hand as the girl squirms and giggles. "I guess we better get downstairs then, huh, baby girl?" Shelby says in the gravelly, deep "monster" voice that she always uses whenever she tickles Rachel.

Rachel just throws her head back in laughter, unable to agree at the moment. Shelby eases up to let her youngest catch her breath a bit so that the little one isn't squirming when Shelby navigates the stairs. She follows the heavenly aroma down to the kitchen, talking to Rachel as she enters. She's so engrossed in the conversation that she doesn't notice it when she crosses the kitchen's threshold.

She doesn't notice him, but Rachel certainly does.

"Daddy!" the toddler squeals, squirming to be let down so that she can run to the man and "tackle" him with a hug the way she does every morning after her mommy brings her downstairs to eat.

Shelby stands frozen in place, tightening her grip on her baby. Whoever this man is, he certainly can't be her husband.

Rachel stares at her mother, confused as to why the woman won't let her down. "What's wrong, Mommy?"

Brittany and Santana appear at the table, quietly chattering with one another over plates of pancakes and scrambled eggs with cheese.

Have they been here this whole time?

They stop their conversation and turn, in tandem, to look at their mother. "Don't worry, Ma," Santana says, "Dad made you and Rachel's favorite, too."

Shelby stares at the girl, wondering if Santana heard the words that just came out of her mouth. Santana would be the last person to joke about her father like this, so, that begs the question, what in the hell is going on?

Before her brain can piece it all together, there's a man standing at the stove who suddenly turns around. He's sporting a Mr. Mom apron over top of a sweater vest and khakis. His hair is cropped close to his head, but it's long enough on top to look like it wants to start to curl. His chin sports a deep dimple right down the middle.

And the eyes. Oh, God, the eyes.

It's him. It's Will.

Her Will.

He removes the apron before walking towards her, holding his arms out for her, no, their baby. Rachel reaches forward, fully ready to be transferred into her father's arms for her morning hug and kiss.

Shelby can't help but pull the girl back on instinct.

Will chuckles, the sound seeming to echo all around. "I know you want her all to yourself, Shel, but you have to share," he croons in her ear before pecking her cheek with a soft kiss.

Shelby's fingers trace the spot near her jawline like it's turned to gold.

When she pulls her hand away, Rachel isn't on her hip anymore. She frantically looks up to find Will now holding their child, telling her he made her favorite: stuffed French toast with warm strawberry compote and powdered sugar on top.

He sits down with their little girl in his lap, starting to cut up a piece of French toast like he does this every day. He even cut the crust off the bread before battering it, somehow knowing that their daughter won't eat the crust.

"Sit down, Mom," a voice calls out. Brittany. She's getting up from the table to place her now-empty plate and juice glass in the sink.

"Yeah," her other daughter says, "you look like you've seen a ghost." Santana shoves the last of her eggs into her mouth before mimicking her sister's actions, both girls dressed in their Cheerios uniforms but seemingly not in a hurry for once.

"Thanks for breakfast, Daddy," Brittany says perkily, pecking Will on the forehead as if she does it all the time.

"Yeah, Dad," Santana adds her own appreciation for the man's efforts. "Good stuff." She proceeds to give him a fist bump in a way that Shelby never remembers the teen doing before.

The girls are out of sight after Shelby blinks, and she has no earthly idea how they possibly moved that fast in the matter of a millisecond.

But now it's only the three of them.

Shelby finds herself sitting without actually remembering walking over to a chair. There's a plate of stuffed French toast in front of her that's waiting to be dug in to, the compote still warm as the powdered sugar forms clumps in the gooey sauce. She feels a weight in her lap and realizes that she can finally breathe again when she looks down and sees that Rachel is back with her, as usual.

She holds tight to her child, not liking these bizarre movements and transfers that have been happening since she woke up. She wipes Rachel's mouth, kissing the familiar small head before finally moving to cut up her own breakfast.

"What's going on with you this morning, Shel?" Will asks, placing his left hand over her right, the sensation causing her whole arm to tingle.

She takes a moment to look up and really examine him. He hasn't aged a day in 4 years. She reaches a hand up to her own neck, feeling the loss in her skin's elasticity that tells her she's aged despite the fact that he hasn't.

"Nothing," she responds, lightly bouncing their toddler on her thigh out of nervous habit and a need to soothe her child. How is she supposed to tell her clearly alive husband that he is supposed to be long dead?

"You're every bit as beautiful now as you were the day that I first laid eyes on you, you know," Will cuts through her thoughts in an attempt to reassure her, having caught the way she ran her fingers over the skin of her neck. He remembers her doing a similar action on her 40th birthday, and he told her the exact same thing then.

Shelby's breath catches at the familiar sentence, rendering her unable to speak. Her heart is too busy flip-flopping in her chest. Luckily, Will does the talking for her.

"Is it stress about the New Directions?" he guesses. "Because I'm telling you that this is our year," he promises, fully confident and fully committed. "With you on board, we'll be unstoppable." His smile rivals the one she remembers him wearing after performing Ice Ice Baby with his fledgling club.

Shelby's mouth goes dry. "Me? I'm still coaching them?" What do they need her for if they still have him?

Will laughs, the sound ethereal. "Of course, my love. You and Cassie are going to do great things with these kids. Especially our kids," he adds with a deep fondness.

She feels a tear race down her cheek, but when she reaches up, there's no wetness. "What about you?" she asks, her voice shaky.

Will smiles that comforting smile of his. "We both know my coaching days are over, babe," he says, stroking the hand that his has been covering all this time. "But you…you're going to do something truly special," he tells her.

Shelby releases a sob, trying to compose herself enough to continue this conversation that she never wants to end. "I already did somethings special the day that I married you, when we adopted our girls, and then the day that I had our baby girl," she says, the tears flowing steadily now. "I don't know how it can get much more special than that."

Will smiles, the sight sad this time. "You've got a lifetime left of special ahead of you, babe; it didn't all begin and end with me."

Shelby sniffles, trying to keep her new tears at bay. "Sometimes it feels like it did."

He looks down at an uncharacteristically silent Rachel, stroking her little cheek with his free hand. "But more often than not, you know that it didn't," he says knowingly. "You were special long before I ever came around, and that will never change. You've done some of the most amazing things that I've ever seen anyone do, Shelby Abigail Corcoran, and everything going forward – especially everything to do with our girls – will be no exception. Trust me." He finally removes his hand from hers only to use it to tenderly wipe the moisture from her face.

"I love you," Shelby sobs, unable to hold back anymore.

"I love you, too. Always," Will says fervently as he grabs both of her hands. "Daniel, Elijah, Levi, Ezra, and Adriel all love you, too," he adds with an impossibly large grin.

Shelby chokes on yet another sob, pulling one of her hands back to try and stifle the sound. "You mean…" she can't manage to finish, but she doesn't have to. Will knows what's on her mind.

"Turns out that we got to name each boy after all," Will answers, pride and love shimmering in his own misty eyes.

Shelby's throat is impossibly tight, but she has to power through. She has to keep this going. "I don't know what I'm going to do when you're gone again," she struggles to admit.

Will's smile is easy now as he meets his wife's eyes. "I know exactly what you're going to do," he starts. "You're going to hug our baby girl tight enough for the both of us and remind her of how much her daddy loves her. You're going to hug our big girls goodbye while reminding them to slow down a bit every once in a while. You're going to go back to snuggling our baby again and forget about morning lessons; the two of you are just going to sing and dance like nobody's watching. Then you'll snuggle up for nap time because God knows she'll need one every day before glee practice," Will laughs lightly at that. "Then you're going to go to McKinley and be the best darn mom, aunt, and show choir coach that anyone's ever seen because you have something now that you didn't have before with Vocal Adrenaline."

"What's that?" Shelby dares to ask, hiccupping in the process.

"Everything you've ever wanted," Will beams at her, looking down at Rachel where she's still cuddled up in her mommy's lap. The toddler's humming softly again.

The brunette holds on to Rachel with all her might, the humming growing louder and louder.

Shelby opens her eyes for real this time, dried, sticky tear tracks staining either side of her face. There's a familiar weight on top of her, and she reaches up to stroke the little head of dark brown hair.

Rachel's face pops into view as the child sits up on her mommy, ceasing her humming. She gives her mother the biggest smile she can manage, every bit as big as Will's smile in Shelby's dream, and says, "Mornin', Mommy!" before leaning up to give the older brunette a big, sloppy kiss to the cheek.

Right where Will had kissed her in her dream.

Shelby smiles through her new tears, remembering the instructions he gave, and squeezes her child extra hard, but not hard enough to hurt her baby. She whispers, "Daddy and I love you more than anything, baby girl."

And the pair stays like that until the older girls come to kiss their mother goodbye for the first part of their day.

Chapter Text

Shelby and Cassie take exactly one week to prepare their performance, never announcing to the rest of the team that anything will be happening. Blaine, Brittany, and Santana keep their lips sealed about the whole thing, wanting the reactions of their teammates to be unprepared and raw.

Cassie sends word out to the team to meet in the auditorium later that Monday, and there's the usual chatter happening around the area as the kids all wait for their coaches to show up.

Without warning, the audience lights dim as the spotlight lands on stage where Brad sits at the piano. As he starts to play, Shelby enters from stage left, the kids all growing silent as one of their coaches starts to sing.

Funny

After that single word, Cassie glides in from stage right, moving fluidly along with the rest of the lyrics.

Did you hear that?

Funny

Yeah, the guy said, "Honey

You're a funny girl"

Santana, from her spot next to Blaine, catches something out of the corner of her eye. She strains her neck and squints to try and see around the others in the dark.

That's me

I just keep them in stitches

Doubled in half

Shelby's voice is just as mesmerizing as Cassie's smooth movements, leaving their audience captivated.

And though I may be all wrong for the guy

I'm good for a laugh

Santana finally spots the motion again. Five seats down from her sits Dani; the girl, to Santana's utter surprise, is mouthing the words to the song. Santana can't help but to be impressed that someone other than her, Brittany, Blaine, Rachel, and Kurt know the lyrics to this particular song.

I guess it's not funny

Life is far from sunny

When the laugh is over

And the joke's on you

Santana's head snaps forward again when Dani quickly looks her way, the latter girl smirking as she catches the tail end of the other teen's surveillance of her. Quinn notices the fast movement from her place beside Joe and scowls in suspicion.

Rachel toddles out on stage with all the melodrama that a 3-year-old can muster, trying to match the tone of the song as she makes her way over to her mommy. Shelby grabs her little one's hand with a serene smile as she continues singing directly to the tiny girl.

A girl oughta have a sense of humor

That's one thing you really need for sure

When you're a funny girl

The fella said, "A funny girl"

Shelby puts the mic up to Rachel's mouth, letting her child take the last part.

What ensues has every audience member's jaw dropping as the biggest, clearest, most beautiful little voice emanates from such a small package.

Funny

How it ain't so funny?

Funny girl

Rachel hits the runs flawlessly, holding the last note as the students all start to applaud the entire performance. When the note ends, enthusiastic clapping is heard making its way from the back of the auditorium up towards the stage. "Brava, brava!" a petite blonde calls out.

"April?" Shelby says at the same time Santana, Brittany, and Quinn say, "Ms. Rhodes?!"

April extends her arms with a flourish. "In the flesh," she responds with a curtsy. She looks to the girls who she watched grow up. "Get your tushies over here and give me hugs, you little rascals!"

It's a bold term of endearment for the older blonde to use, given that they've all been taller than her since they were 7.

Maybe that's why Santana is rolling her eyes at the woman as her sister, her best friend, and her former social worker engage in a crushing group hug.

"Careful, guys. You don't want to break the little gnome," Santana remarks sassily.

"Santana," Shelby warns as she makes her way off the stage and towards the little group.

April pulls back from the hug, shaking her head with an unsuspecting smile. "It's okay, Shelbs," she says, suddenly jumping at the Latina to bring the teen down to her level. April has a hold of the young brunette's neck and proceeds to give the shocked girl an affectionate noogie.

Santana gasps indignantly before pushing away, shocked at what just transpired, while her former caretaker laughs at her reaction.

"What the hell, Ms. Rhodes?!" Santana shrieks, trying to tighten her ponytail that's now wrecked beyond repair. She heads towards the side door with Brittany on her heels, the pair aiming to get to the bathroom across the hall to fix Santana's hair.

"Love you too, Sanny!" April calls out with a wave to the departing girl.

Shelby grabs her eldest daughter by the arm before letting her go again after saying her piece. "Fix your mouth while you're in there, too, because that language is not okay, missy," Shelby reminds her kid.

Cassie, being the sensible one for once, senses that maybe this isn't the best time to have an audience. "Take 10, everyone!" she calls out to the kids, who are all still snickering over the way the HBIC Cheerio was just taken down by a 4-foot-nothing, middle-aged woman.

April turns back to Shelby as the other kids file out. "Sorry I didn't keep in touch. Due to all the burnout and being so severely underpaid, it turns out that I was a raging, but functioning, alcoholic during those days," April says casually, as if she were sharing her favorite color.

Cass shoots a look at her best friend as if to say see, I'm not the only one!

"What's uh owl-hole-kick?" Rachel asks, swinging her little legs back and forth in the auditorium seat that's far too big for her after having climbed down from the stage while the adults were preoccupied.

April jumps at the tiny voice, not having noticed the toddler before due to the chair practically swallowing her whole. "Oh, my goodness! I don't even have to ask who your mommy is, you cutie patootie!" April gushes, kneeling down in front of Shelby's little clone. "What's your name, babydoll?"

Rachel puts on her best show face for the silly woman. "Rachel Barbra," she states matter-of-factly. "Barbra has two As, just like Babs herself," she goes on to explain.

Shelby's heart swells with pride towards her baby girl as April stands back up to face the older brunette. "I see someone had a little surprise," April winks knowingly at the choir coach.

"I'm a mare-cull baby," Rachel announces with a big smile before her mommy can even respond to the funny lady.

All the adults turn back towards the tiny tot, their hearts bursting at just how sweet that moment was.

Shelby can't resist going over and taking her youngest into her arms, holding her baby close. "That's exactly right, my little miracle baby," the mother coos.

April melts at the sight of mother and child together. If anyone deserves this, it's Shelby and Will.

Will.

April's face falls suddenly at the thought, and she knows she has to say something about the man. Anything. "I was so sorry to hear about Will, Shelby."

What else can she say to the woman whose husband had his life so brutally ended?

Little Rachel shakes her head from side to side. "No. No sad. Please don't make Mommy sad," the little one boldly requests, trying to protect her mother.

Shelby plants a kiss to the side of her sweet girl's head. "It's okay, baby," she soothes. "Mommy's okay." She faces April with a small smile. "Thank you, April. Are you still working at the group home?" she asks, not wanting to linger on the subject of her late husband. She cried enough at family dinner last week to last her for a while, not to mention the ensuing dream she had that very same night.

April spits out her sip of water as she laughs. "Oh, God no!" she exclaims, wiping her mouth. "Between the burnout and policy changes, I needed out. I took what savings I had and became part owner of a karaoke roller rink."

"What's a roller kink?" Rachel asks from the comfort of her mother's arms.

"Well, it's—" April starts.

"Not that this isn't a…touching reunion," Cassie interrupts with a forced smile at the tinier blonde, "but what brings you by today, April?" The woman tries to sound casual, still a little upset that her deserved applause and glee practice were both crashed by the other woman.

"Cassie," Shelby hisses, ready to reprimand her best friend.

April laughs, not in the least bit insulted. "Same old Cassie," she jokes good-naturedly. "Well, since you asked, I heard that Shelby here was taking over as co-coach of the glee club. As a former member of glee club of yesteryear here at McKinley, I wanted to come show my support and offer up my roller rink in case you guys ever wanted to do some fun team-building activities," April finishes with a little dance. "I also wanted to catch up with two old friends," she says, strolling over to Cassie and throwing an arm around the taller woman, much to the dancer's chagrin.

"I wanna go to the roller kink, Mommy!" Rachel softly yells in all her excitement. If it's anything like the trampoline park, then she definitely wants in.

Laughter is heard from down the aisle where Brittany and Santana are making their way back towards the group. "Yeah, Mommy," Santana snickers, "we want to go to the roller kink, too."

Shelby shoots a look at her eldest, miming for the girl to zip it. She turns her attention back to her youngest. "It's a roller rink, baby. Rrrrink," she emphasizes for the little one.

"I don't know, Shel," Cassie starts, stalking closer with a smug look on her face, "I think I'd prefer to go to the roller kink, too," she says teasingly.

Brittany looks confused. "Isn't a kink a—"

"Ah, ah, ah!" April yells, taking pity on the outnumbered mother. "Don't finish that question, Britt-babe," she instructs, conjuring up her social worker voice. "We can answer that for you later. Much later," she says after some thought. Like after the impressionable young toddler goes to bed, perhaps.

Or, if Shelby has her way, after the toddler is grown and graduated from college.

The other kids start to slowly filter back in, not daring to be gone the full ten minutes for fear of what one, or both, of their coaches may do to them. They're certainly not willing to test Mrs. Corcoran just yet.

Or probably ever.

Quinn, feeling emboldened by the fact that she's practically family to the two coaches, is the designated spokesperson for the group. "We know you just performed, Sh—Coach Corcoran, but we'd really like to hear you sing again, if possible. With Coach July this time," Quinn requests, the rest of the team members all nodding their enthusiastic agreement.

"Guys," Cassie jumps in, "Sectionals are in October. We don't have time for me and Shelby to perform at every single practice for you. Earlier was a gift. A one-time gift to show you how it's really done."

April smiles devilishly at her fellow blonde. "Oh, come on, Cass. One more performance won't kill ya…unless you're scared to go up there unrehearsed…" April pokes at the bear.

Cassie sputters while Shelby rolls her lips in to keep from laughing. If there's one thing Cassie can't walk away from, it's a direct challenge. The dancer stares the petite woman down, unblinking. "Name the song, Rhodes."

"That's the spirit, July!" April claps. She thinks for a moment, taking her time to come up with the perfect duet for the unconventional pair. What song could there be for two such opposite people who have been through so much together?

Rachel, noticing the indecision on the funny lady's face, beckons the woman towards her and her mommy, the toddler leaning far enough forward so that Shelby can't hear what's whispered between the two.

April's face lights up like the Northern Sky on a clear night at the suggestion.

She prances up to the stage, where poor Brad is still just there waiting, and says something into his ear, the pianist nodding as he digs for the sheet music that he needs.

Cassie wants to ask Rachel what she's gotten them into, but she doesn't want to show any signs of weakness in front of April or the kids. She's Cassandra July, and she can't shatter the illusion that she's anything but cool, confident, and always in control.

"Mommy?" Rachel gets her mother's attention.

"Yes, my baby?"

"Can I sit with Boo while you and Auntie Cass sing?" she asks. She wants a front row seat for this.

Shelby is a little taken aback by Rachel not wanting to be on stage with her and Cassie, but she nods, calling Blaine up to the front to take his baby cousin. He gets situated in the center of the front row with her on his lap, just like the princess requested of him.

"Thank you, Boo," Rachel says before her mother has the chance to. Shelby beams at her little girl, always impressed with her manners.

"Let's go, Corcoran," Cassie calls from the stage. "We don't have all day!"

Shelby rolls her eyes exasperatedly as she makes her way up to the piano, her and Cassie peeking at the sheet music. They're unable to contain their smiles at one another.

Cassie nods at her best friend, letting the brunette know to take the first verse as the melody starts to play. Shelby smiles in acknowledgement before singing the opening lines.

I'm limited

Just look at me

Shelby gestures to herself, thinking of her former longstanding battle with endometriosis and all of the losses she endured.

I'm limited

And just look at you, you can do all I couldn't do

Glinda

So now it's up to you

She whisper-sings the next line, still keeping her distance from Cassie.

For both of us

Now it's up to you

Cassie swoops in for the next verse, her students getting to hear her singing voice for the first time.

I've heard it said

That people come into our lives

For a reason

Shelby wasn't even supposed to be on her radar at AMDA, given that they were in different programs. Fate, as it would seem, brought them together when their original roommates backed out on them at the last second.

Bringing something we must learn

And we are lead

To those who help us most grow

If we let them

And we help them in return

And Cassie knows that to be true despite her next line. She's here at McKinley to help Shelby after Shelby helped her get sober and get the job at Carmel following her derailment of her former career.

Well, I don't know if I believe that's true

But I know I'm who I am today

Because I knew you

Cassie walks to the middle of the stage, Shelby meeting her there as the blonde continues.

Like a comet pulled from orbit

As it passes a sun

Like a stream that meets a boulder

Halfway through the wood

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

Cassie can. She can certainly say that she's been changed for the better. She has a family now, thanks to her best friend. A real family. She holds her hand out for Shelby to take. The brunette latches on to it with a genuine smile.

But because I knew you

I have been changed for good

No truer words have ever been sung by the blonde. Shelby gears up for her verse, fighting past the growing mist in her eyes.

It well may be

That we will never meet again

In this lifetime

Not a chance. No way will she ever be without her best friend. Even when they were hundreds of miles apart, they were never one without the other at heart.

So let me say before we part

So much of me

Is made from what I learned from you

Cassie has taught her how to take chances, among so many other things.

You'll be with me

Like a handprint on my heart

Shelby places her free hand over her chest, grabbing it with meaning.

And now whatever way our stories end

I know you have re-written mine

By being my friend

No truer words have been sung by the brunette. Cassie has seen her through the darkest days of her life but also some of the best days, too.

Like a ship blown from its mooring

By a wind off the sea

Like a seed dropped by a sky bird

In a distant wood

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

But because I knew you

Cassie takes her line.

Because I knew you

The blonde and the brunette sing together, both watery-eyed as they gear up for the finale.

I have been changed for good

Shelby takes her next lines.

And just to clear the air

I ask forgiveness for the things I've done you blame me for

Like not returning to New York when Shelby said she would. She's not sorry that she married Will instead, but she is sorry for the way Cassie felt left behind.

Cassie can tell what her best friend is thinking about. She can see it in her eyes. She sings her part.

But then, I guess we know there's blame to share

Cassie had a drinking problem for years. Shelby bailed her out so many times, even from afar.

Both women read the other's minds based on their respective expressions before they sing together.

And none of it seems to matter anymore

And it really doesn't. They're here now, and they're family. They'll always be family.

The two alternate every other line, starting with Cassie.

Like a comet pulled from orbit

Like a ship blown from its mooring

As it passes the sun

By a wind off the sea

Like a stream that meets a boulder

Like a seed dropped by a bird

Halfway through the wood

In the wood

Their voices blend again, singing to one another with all the feeling they can muster.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

I do believe I have been changed for the better

They grip one another's hands tighter as Cassie sings her line.

And because I knew you

Shelby squeezes harder before she sings hers.

Because I knew you

They come together one final time, the magic reaching its peak.

Because I knew you

I have been changed

For good

Every single audience member is on their feet in an instant, whooping and hollering not just for their two coaches, but for the two best friends. Blaine lifts Rachel on to his shoulders, allowing her to be the tallest in the room for once, and the little girl cheers her heart out.

"Who's cutting onions?" April asks, wiping at her eyes. She looks up towards Rachel. "That was a good call, cutie patootie," she compliments with a wink. Rachel nods emphatically, grabbing on to Blaine's hair to steer him towards the stage like some sort of horse.

Kurt laughs in the background at his boyfriend's misfortune, Blaine grumbling about how Ki-Ki will pay for his laughter later. Rachel isn't paying any attention, though. She just wants to get to the stage where her mommy and aunt are still hugging one another.

Brittany and Santana make their way up towards the stage as well, feeling drawn towards the moment shared by the two women.

Once they're all on stage, Cassie and Shelby pull away from one another, both wiping at their own eyes, just to promptly find themselves engulfed in a massive family hug, little Rachel being squished in the middle.

"Big perfect song!" Rachel declares, her tiny arms spread as wide as they'll go. The others all laugh as they agree with that adorable assessment.