Leave
AN: This story is a little different from all the fluffy dramatic happy endings I've been indulging you guys with. Good old angsty future fic for you all, enjoy!
She's sat on the white bed, her sheets cool and the wind whistling from the open window of her lonely empty apartment. Her eyes are red, her face splotched from her tear stained sob fest, her hair messed up, her tiny weak body clad in only a light white nightgown. She doesn't know how it came to this. Disappointment after disappointed until she cracked and gave up, all her energy wasted and her time gone too fast to keep her waiting for her big break. Here she was in her cosy flat with misery for company.
She'd drove everything and anything away, until she had nothing left. Her tears fall freely from her sore red cheeks, too tired to wipe them dry with her hands, she sniffs away into the darkness. Her sobs and the windy night making an eerie sound in the hollow room, no one on the other side of the bed to hold her or console her of all her failures. She was supposed to be the strong one; she was supposed to be the survivor, the fighter in the battle of life.
She'd given up, claimed defeat and raised her arms in surrender. Her tired eyes are red from crying her heart out as the melancholic music plays faintly in the background, feebly calming her down tonight. She was all alone now, isolated and reclusive in this secluded area of Brooklyn, NYC. They all probably thought she was living the dream, making her mark in Off Broadway shows. Little did they know how her life panned out. She was no longer the energetic starlet but a single nobody. She laughs bitterly at the reflection she sees in the mirror. She never was a beauty.
Her hair is dry and damaged her arms thin and her body fading into the background. Fading into the background. Who would have thought she would not have ended up in the spotlight. She looks down at the flat panel of her stomach, wailing away with more hard harsh sobs as the memory flashes in her mind once again. She'd lost it, she's lost her legacy. Three failed community theatre shows and one off Broadway show was all she had to show for it all, her wardrobe filled with silly dresses for award shows she'd never attend and those stupid gold star necklaces to warrant her the luck she was never granted. She cries to sleep.
They had to rush her into hospital as soon as he found no pulse as she rested after her long night in theatre. He'd just come home from the radio station, eager to tell her the good news when he found her, hair sprayed against the cushions of her bed and her skin pale, looking ghastly. Panicked, he'd yelled for someone to call the ambulance as he performed CPR, desperate to wake her, determined not to lose her.
She was on the hospital bed, all wired up with him by her side, holding her hand so tightly. Her eyes flicked open and she'd started to choke again, her breathing rapid and irregular as the nurse came in. She was screaming with pain when they found blood between her legs.
'What's happening to her?'
His eyes were tired and his face masked with a mixture of panic and alarm as she continued to bleed out. Her eyes became blurry as a figure of white coated nurses and doctors rushed to her aid. Suddenly a frantic nurse shouted out.
'She's having a miscarriage, get Dr Stanton, stat.'
He gasped. They only had sex for the first time last night; she couldn't be pregnant, unless...it was Jesse's. Her eyes flicked shut as she passed out unconscious, as the nurse asked permission to deliver the baby, a dead set of vessels and a barely ripe foetus from her stomach. His eyes tearing up she begged them to stop. He'd killed her baby to save her.
Her cries echoed into the hollow walls of the white sterile room as he held her hand, soothing her as he stroke her hair.
'It's okay, baby. You're gonna be okay.'
He held her against him as she wet his shirt that night. They were barely in junior college when she lost her child. There was a tear in her walls and he'd told them to do whatever it took to save her, bring her back to life. She would barely look at him anymore. Their conversations became shorter and shorter as he tried in earnest to comfort her, be there. Soon enough she started blaming him wouldn't even let him hold her close to him at night or kiss her good night.
It was just the two of them and awkward silences until one day he snapped.
'I should be the mad one! You slept with him, didn't you?'
Streak of black tears stained her cheeks as she glared at him. 'Is that why you kill my baby? Because of jealousy, revenge, you couldn't bear the thought of me having his baby?'
'No, don't pin this on me. I save your fucking life, Rach.'
The plate he threw cracked against the walls falling to pieces behind her as she flinched.
She looked so fragile, her curves barely visible anymore and she entire appearance lacking any glow since the incident.
Her voice was barely audible as they glared at eachother from across the room.
'I can't kids anymore. They had to tie my tubes; I'm never going to be a mother.'
His heart ached from her as he rushed to hold her against him as she sobbed against his chest, gripping his shoulders tight.
'You were only two month along, there were no symptoms. The nurse said there's no way you could have known. Rach, you gotta stop this. You gotta stop letting this eat away at you. You have to stop blaming me and you have to stop blaming yourself. Please, Rach...just come back to me. I miss you so much.'
His voice cracked coarse with emotion as he cupped her face, begging her to look at him.
She looked so cold and unfeeling as she looked up at him. 'You should leave.'
He looked at her with alarm, his eyes pleading her to reason with him. 'Rachel...'
'LEAVE! NOW!'
He grasped her shoulders. 'You need me. Let me take care of you. I don't want you to do anything stupid; you're so fragile right now. Rach, please.'
She was shaking her head adamant she wanted to handle this alone. 'Please, leave.'
The last time he saw her she was in a white night gown, shrinking into the darkness as she hugged herself from the harsh feel of the wind, staring at him like a lost child.
He'd slung his backpack over his shoulder; all packed up and ready to leave. He looked at her affectionately, his eyes warm and inviting before kissing her temple and heading to the door.
'Goodbye, Rachel.'
