It Must Be Thursday
"This must be Thursday," said Arthur to himself, sinking low over his beer. "I never could get the hang of Thursdays."
-Douglas Adams, "The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy"
Story Summary: In which demons, wishes, and grape slushies unite to form a singing, dancing Broadway extravaganza! Or you know, Rachel Berry decides whether or not to sell her soul.
Foreword: I love "what ifs". Generally, when I read or watch something the first question I ask myself is, "Oo! That was interesting but what if this happened instead?" Glee in particular tends to really make me think about roads not taken. This story has been taking shape for quite awhile as something taking place a little earlier in the season, but then Jesse happened and well, what was originally a straight-up "What if?" became this. This goes alternate reality some time during the Power of Madonna episode or shortly thereafter, but this is meant to stick pretty close to the canon universe. Just with minions of hell. Which, really, isn't exactly a canonical stretch.
Pairings: Rachel/Puck, but also Rachel/Unconventional!Relationship. If surprise unconventional ships aren't your thing, probably best to sail on.
Warnings: Rated M for language, violence and suggestive sexy fun-times.
Disclaimer: Glee, Douglas Adams, Sweeney Todd and Jewish proverbs do not belong to me, alas.
Side Tidbit: Jesse (or Yishai, pardon my attempt at the Hebrew original) means "God exists" or "God's gift". Food for thought for later on ;)
Chapter Summary: Today must be the Very Special Sweeps Episode of Thursdays.
Chapter 1: Escaping Words
A bird that you set free may be caught again but a word that escapes your lips will not return.
– Jewish Proverb
Thursday the First
It isn't –entirely- a surprise when Rachel discovers that her very recent ex-boyfriend is a literal minion of hell. Well, you know, except for the fact that she doesn't actually believe in hell. Hell, however, isn't exactly what is going through her mind as a very naked Jesse leans forward, his dark wings flexing as he flashes a distinctly predatory smile.
"So Rach, what do you think?"
What Rachel thinks is that when Rachel mused about selling her soul for Broadway, she never thought that it was actually an option.
xXx
Most people wake up and look forward to the mundane things of the day- hearing the latest gossip, chatting with friends, going shopping for shoes or transmission fluid while chatting with friends. Rachel Berry has never had this kind of option. Unfortunately, any gossip she hears is likely to be about her and as for the rest, well, that would involve having friends, wouldn't it? She hasn't let this stop her from anticipating her day, even if the day she envisions is more the product of a rich fantasy life, rather than any likely reality. In hindsight, her tendency to dwell on dreams of walking over the worshipping bodies of her tormentors on her way to class might have been partially responsible for her current situation.
But honestly?
Rachel knows that if she really wants to figure out how this started, all she has to do is look at it as the natural ending to her Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
In other words- Thursday.
But as bad as most Rachel Berry Thursdays are, they are normally limited to one horrible life-changing revelation per day. In fact, she is as regular as an afterschool special with the, "What awful thing will I learn today?" In that case, today must be the Very Special Sweeps Episode of Thursdays.
xXx
Thursday doesn't start off horribly.
A fact that Rachel has never shared with her are-they/aren't-they sort-of friends in Glee is that the way she survives all of the things that happen to her in her average day is by pretending that the moment she walks out her door she is starring in a special guerilla theatre version of whatever musical first crosses her mind. If it's all a show then none of it is actually real, right? And she loves Sweeney Todd.
On second thought, maybe that should have been her first clue.
There is actually a significant lull before the proverbial storm. Slushies have become rather sporadic since Noa-Puck's brief time dating her and she arrives early as usual to run through a few songs before class. Jesse normally joins her, but as he loudly announced his commitment to a morning fundraiser in support of the bicycle-less at lunch yesterday, she can actually make mistakes without feeling self-conscious. She's humming "Green Finch and Linnet Bird" to herself when the Original Gleeks walk, amble and roll into the choir room. It's sad that, despite the ultimatum they gave her not so long ago, her first thought is that they are being friendly.
"We know, you know."
Kurt, as the self-appointed spokesperson, is staring at his nails, but there's an edge of gleeful malice in his voice that makes Rachel realize that this isn't going to be about embracing gay dolphins.
"You kept dating Vocal Adrenaline, despite what we told you and that extremely touching scene at rehearsal."
He looks up, and Rachel is surprised to see something that might have been guilt, before it almost instantly vanishes. "But you know what? We don't need to do anything. You can endanger Glee all you want, because we all know exactly what's going to happen. Jesse St. James is going to break you apart, and when he quits just before Regionals, we're who Mr. Schue is going to turn to to fix it. You think Mr. Schue will ever trust you again? So you? You're going to be left with nothing and that's far worse than anything we could ever threaten you with."
Rachel detachedly glances around the circle. Tina looks a little embarrassed, and Mercedes has an odd combination of stubbornness and a tiny bit of guilt and Artie just looks imperturbable. None of them are saying anything.
They obviously agree with Kurt.
Rachel quietly picks up her sheet music and walks out past them without saying a word.
What is there to say really?
They might think that she's stupid and self-centered and selfish, but she knows that Jesse is probably playing her. She thinks that it might be worth it just to have someone to talk to.
She has been really, really trying not to think about that.
xXx
Rachel gets through her morning classes in a daze and can't bring herself to go to the cafeteria by the time they're over. Instead, she eats lunch by herself in the Glee room and makes her way, early of course, to her locker to pick up the books for her next classes. Unfortunately there is a bit of a roadblock between her and her locker. Finn's talking to Mike and she's trying to figure out a way to get by him without actually having him see her when she hears her name.
"-at least Rachel thought we were dating. I was all just there, man, and then there were, like, those crazy calendars and-"
Mike sort of frowns at him. "Why are you trying to get back together then?"
Suddenly not caring if they see her, Rachel puts on a burst of speed and powerwalks until she is at least half a hallway away. She tries very, very hard not to think about what she just heard and this blatant rewriting of her personal history.
The irony is that Finn was the one who asked her out in the first place. Of course, she should perhaps have realized that he was still deeply hurt over what had happened and had an excellent track record of taking her for granted anyways... But she had wanted him so badly and tried so hard. The "crazy calendars" only came out after he failed to make an appearance for the fifth time. And what does it say about her that it still took Finn to break up with her to find his inner "rock star" before the relationship ended?
Does she really hate herself that badly?
The thought shakes her so much that she ducks into the girls' washroom before she starts to hyperventilate. As she sits in the stall, her head between her knees, she hears the door open and attempts to keep her breathing quiet. The last thing she wants to do is give anyone anymore fodder for "Crazy Rachel". Especially once she hears them speak.
"If sex isn't dating, does that mean that dating isn't sex? Does that mean I can't have sex with my boyfriend?"
Santana gives her distinctive snort. "Considering he's seven, that's probably a good idea, Britt."
Rachel can practically hear the hamsters in Brittany's head slowly making their way towards the wheel that powers her thinking.
"Does that mean you had sex with Finn? 'Cause you're not really dating him?"
"You're pretty sharp, babe. He was awful though- I'm on a strictly non-virgin diet from now on."
"Ooo! I'm not a virgin!"
"Let's go test that out."
Finn isn't....
Finn lied.
Rachel...
She can't think about this. She can't. But she's honestly not sure how her life can get any worse.
Of course that is before she walks past the classroom where Puck and Quinn are yelling at one another and she hears her name. Seriously- she knows the fate of eavesdroppers, but at this point she really doesn't see how anything they could have to say could hurt her any further than she is already. Quinn seems to have demanded something because she's glowering at Puck and he looks tired and a little frustrated.
"Fuck Quinn, you know Berry makes me want to light myself on fire." He lets out a sigh and runs his hand over his head. "I only dated her because my Mom said I was a fucking Nazi for not dating Jewish girls."
Oh.
That makes sense.
Rachel stumbles away, hopefully before they can see her. Here she stupidly thought that her life was already as horrible as it could get. She didn't realize G-d or the universe would take that as a challenge.
Her only consolation in all this is that she has yet to see Jesse and won't see him until Glee. She honestly doesn't think she can pretend to be all over yet another boy who –probably- doesn't want her.
xXx
How Rachel gets through the rest of her classes is one of the Universe's Great Mysteries, punctuated only by someone throwing a slushie on her just before Glee. It's grape, so at least it tastes good, but she's pretty sure that the ice wasn't fully ground up and she's going to have a bruise that is going to need some concealer pretty quickly.
It doesn't take all that long to change, wash and apply makeup (she's something of an expert), but it's far closer to the start of practice than she would like when she exits-
And sees Mr. Schue walking in the opposite direction of rehearsal.
She doesn't know what possesses her. Maybe it's how awful her day has already been. Maybe it's that she's slightly psychic. Maybe it's that his hair personally offends her.
She follows him.
Out the door.
Into the parking lot.
Right into the arms of Shelby Corcoran.
They're not even attempting to hide it.
And yeah, maybe nobody but the Gleeks would know or care who she is and they're all in practice, but Rachel thinks about everything they've said to her about Jesse and the bile rises in her throat. The two directors make out for a little while and Rachel knows that they're both late now, but she can't bring herself to leave her hiding place. It's a little bit like watching two pieces of flypaper mate. Repulsive and... kind of sticky.
She wonders if she should be taking notes.
Mr. Schue finishes with some great flourish and saunters back towards the school. Rachel is about to follow when she sees Jesse appear out of nowhere and head towards Shelby.
Rachel knows.
She knows.
But still, the part of her that loves how he treats her, how they sing together, how they talk as equals and friends, refuses to believe. Even as they start talking in furtive whispers with lots of reverse jazz-hands.
Shelby was a really important person in his life, instrumental in the scholarship to UCLA in Los Angeles.
He could just be saying hello to his former coach.
"Rachel is nearly totally under my control. She'll do what we want."
Or maybe not.
She's not sure why Jesse chose that moment to start talking loudly, but figures that it's just a part of her Extra Special Sweeps Thursday of Doom.
Now she just has to die young.
Or, you know, let her feet take her over there without her conscious control and with an unfamiliar feeling of rage.
"I'm afraid that won't be happening."
They're both kind of gaping at her.
"Jesse- consider this so long, farewell. I hope that your stereo system catches on fire and burns you bald."
She doesn't bother watching Jesse frantically clutching at his hair as she sweeps back towards the school with more confidence than she really feels.
She can't do this anymore.
Something has to change.
xXx
Rachel's mind is utterly, curiously blank as she slowly makes her way towards practice.
She is positively shocked when she stumbles into Glee what must be only five or so minutes behind when Mr. Schue must have arrived, since he's just started organizing music. Did it really only take that long?
The revelation is building within her and she realizes that she absolutely cannot do this.
Trying very hard not to attract attention, she carefully walks up to Mr. Schue and addresses him as quietly as possible.
"I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid that I can't participate today. I'm not feeling well- I need to go home."
Mr. Schue gets the "cool teacher face of patronizing disapproval" and when he speaks, it's not the near-whisper that Rachel used.
"Rachel- it's incredibly disrespectful to your peers and to New Directions to show up late and then avoid your responsibilities. It's a particularly terrible lack of teamwork and shows a high level of arrogance. I'm afraid that if you leave, the female lead on the new song for Regionals will go to Tina."
Rachel closes her eyes. Since her early indiscretions, she is always early, always fully participating, always contributing a hundred times what anyone else does, if only because Glee means a hundred times as much to her as to anyone else. It occurs to her as it has never occurred to her before that, yes, they hate her that much. It takes literally one misstep for them to scent blood and go after her, to make her a life lesson or punish her in some inexplicably cruel way. And how must Tina feel? To only get solos when Mr. Schue is trying to teach Rachel a lesson?
She tries not to look at any of them when she opens her eyes. She can't stay there a moment longer.
"I've got to go."
As she lifts her head, Mr. Schue briefly catches her eyes and –something- in his expression shifts. Rachel doesn't want to hear some insincere expression of concern ('We are all minorities'? What kind of privileged able-bodied white man says that kind of stuff and doesn't realize he's being a big jerk?) Unfortunately, she's not that lucky. Mr. Schue's mouth is opening even as she turns towards the door.
Of course, she's glad that she's facing away when she hears what he actually asks.
"Do you know where Jesse is?"
Of course.
Concern is never for her.
"I don't know where he is."
It's the absolute truth.
In fact, Jesse could be in hell for all she cares.
Which is actually pretty ironic considering what happens next.
xXx
She makes it home in one piece.
That was actually up in the air for a few minutes when her fully committed rendition of "The Worst Pies in London" nearly caused her to rear-end Rabbi Greenburg on a sustained A. And no it wasn't because she was picturing most of the people of her acquaintance in the pies.
Really.
Anyways.
So she makes it home. The Dads are off somewhere for some convention which seems to be part of a perpetual series of conventions or cross-country law suits as would explain the fact that she suspects that most of the people she knows think that the "Gay Dads" are just a figment of her imagination, suitable for litigation purposes.
As awful as her day has been and as much as she wants to just curl up in her room and lick her wounds (maybe record a MySpace Evanescence tribute?) she is totally and completely unprepared for what greets her when she opens her bedroom.
"You really aren't taking the most efficient route from McKinley to your house. I could plot it out for you on a map if you'd like?"
And Rachel knows that the universe has made its point as she stares at the naked, gold-eyed, black-winged Jesse sitting on the corner of her desk.
Then he sneezes and a little burst of flame and something that smells like sulfur appears.
"Oh hell."
Jesse smirks.
"Precisely."
xXx
Rachel is fairly sure that none of the sites that she has perused in her extensive search for dating (and friend and sort of acquaintance) etiquette have ever had any suggestions about "What to do if your ex-boyfriend has turned into a naked demon and is sitting on your desk."
She is sure that merely by virtue of not fainting she is way up there on the etiquette scale. Of course, being Rachel Berry, that doesn't last long. Without her brain really connecting, Rachel manages to blurt out what has to be the single most stupid comment to ever leave her mouth (And really? There's an awful lot of competition).
"But you sing concerts for the homeless!"
Jesse gives her a condescending smirk and Rachel blinks.
"I guess that is pretty evil."
Then, because today Rachel is determined to be Queen Stupid of the Stupidy McStupids, she manages to blurt out something else completely... stupid.
"So this wasn't about Glee then?"
Surprisingly, Jesse's voice is almost gentle.
"Not at all. All about you personally. Which, you should feel quite flattered. It is not every potential soul that we take such a personal interest in."
"My... soul?"
Jesse snaps into a sudden business-like mode.
"It's a straight-up business transaction, much like Sally Bowles and Max in Cabaret. You get three introductory desires fulfilled- once the third one is stated, the contract is considered fully formed. You then get a period of ten years where I, as your personal contact, will help you achieve those desires and others, on a per negotiation basis. After that, we get your soul."
Rachel isn't sure where to start. The fact that she gets two free wishes? That only the third is binding? (She is sure that it can't be quite that simple) But there is one question she has based on her sort of study of other religious theories.
"Don't I have to die for you to take my soul?"
Jesse actually starts shifting and not meeting her eyes. "Er... Well about that... You kind of need to make those wishes within the next six months if we are to establish a ten year contract."
Rachel can do math.
Rachel can do math very well.
This changes everything.
"I'm going to die in a little over ten years from now."
Jesse is almost panicked.
"You really, really weren't supposed to know that. Can we sing about sex and forget I said that?"
Rachel doesn't tell him that that little slip makes his case far better than anything else he could possibly come up with. She's not stupid though- he might just be an excellent actor. Fortunately, strangely enough, she actually has the tools to deal with this situation.
xXx
Rachel is proud of her cultural, and potentially biological, Jewish heritage. But Daddy has a heritage as well and Rachel is very thorough in learning her heritages. And some of the more... obscure combinations of Christianity and Vaudun have a lot to say about what to do with demons. She can only hope that they aren't just the interesting historical beliefs that she always thought they were.
"How do I know I can believe you? I mean, I know you want my soul, but how do I know that I am actually going to die so soon?"
Jesse actually looks offended. "You don't trust my handsome, yet approachable, demeanor?"
Rachel knows this. She knows what you are supposed to do in this situation.
"Maybe... If you tell me your True Name."
There's no fun in Jesse's eyes.
"How does a good little girl know about that?"
Rachel tries to look cool, in control, hiding her shaking hands behind her back. "Probably for the same reasons that you want my soul in the first place."
She's guessing of course. If she's wrong...
He's still silent.
He can probably kill her.
Maybe she won't have those ten years.
"Yishai," he hisses.
For the first time in what feels like forever, Rachel has actually won.
"Yishai!"
He freezes. She can see the tremors running up and down his arms, the sweat beading on his brow. She could abuse this.
But she has more important things to do.
"Swear on your true name. Swear that you are telling me the truth. Swear that I have six months or less over ten years to live."
The voice that emerges sounds nothing like the Jesse she knows. It's like a thousand voices in one, his eyes becoming all-white. "By the word of Yishai, I swear that Rachel Barbra Berry has six months or less over ten years to live."
There's something that clicks when he says it, some kind of binding feeling that falls into place.
He has her pinned to the wall before she can even blink.
"You get to do that once. Don't even think of trying it again."
He backs off and Rachel tries to keep from collapsing on the floor by gracefully landing on the bed. Well, at least she has something that nobody else on earth has- a guaranteed ten years. Maybe she would never have considered this before, but that was when she had decades to rise above the degradations of her youth. She doesn't have that time and, honestly, whatever the consequences for the first two wishes are, they aren't her soul. And she can kind of live with most of the other potential effects. Particularly in exchange for what she wants.
So as a very naked Jesse crawls towards her and asks her what she thinks...
What does she think?
"About the bargain of course. I have all sorts of delightful ways that I can convince you that it would be a... beneficial arrangement-"
She thinks that she needs to cut off whatever Jesse is about to start smarming on about.
"I've got my first two wishes," Rachel interrupts.
Jesse's mouth drops a little, before snapping firmly closed. "That... was faster than I anticipated. Are you sure you don't want to hear my alphabetical list of show-stopping seduction numbers?"
"I'm sure it's a lovely list. And very... seduction-y. But I'm pretty much ready. All I ask is that you don't say anything until I am completely finished both of my desires."
Mainly because she doesn't think that she'll have the courage to go through with this otherwise.
And she has to.
Jesse nods, leaning back against her wall, his wings folding impossibly behind him.
Rachel isn't sure why he is so surprised. If they have been as intent on capturing her soul as he says, then surely he must be aware that someone like her does nothing but think about what she would wish for if she would ever get the chance. In between practice and MySpace videos, of course. It's not just idle fantasy either- she's read "The Monkey's Paw" and is well aware of the importance of wording when making these kinds of wishes. She has color-coded lists buried at the bottom of her desk of the exact wording for fortune that would not involve her dead zombie fathers returning to knock on her door. Of course all of those lists are now shot completely to hell, but she's always been good at improvisation.
And really?
It's just minor revisions, to smooth her path for what will be ten rather than sixty years of triumph. Because she's had a revelation today, even before Demon Jesse the Floopy-Haired Genie- her priorities have to shift. If she wants to get where she wants to go, she can't play around anymore.
"I want to not care about McKinley."
Jesse has a rather unpromising gleam in his eyes, so Rachel interjects hastily. "And no- that doesn't mean not caring at all or not being able to love or turning into a zombie or an alien parasite host when I'm in McKinley. I want to not be concerned with what people think of me, what people say about me, what people do to me, how I'm treated, and what I do in my various school activities. Other than my academics of course! I want to not have Glee as any kind of priority and just participate without feeling any kind of desire to do anything more. Most importantly, I want-"
She takes a deep breath.
"I want to stop wanting them to like me. I want to stop wanting to prove myself to them both romantically and in friendship, only to be pushed away over and over again."
She can tell Jesse is about to interject, obviously wondering why she is wasting her first wish on something like this. She can't afford to let him speak, because she won't be able to do this. "It might seem frivolous and quite foolish to someone of your experience. But I only have ten years, Jesse. This distraction is preventing me from taking the measures I will need to succeed before my time runs out. I can't afford to be constantly an emotional wreck if I am to take Broadway by storm before... Well before."
This seems to appease Jesse for now and Rachel soldiers on.
"The second thing I want is... I want you to pretend to be my friend."
Jesse's brow wrinkles and Rachel interrupts before he can open his mouth.
She's seen Aladdin, alright? She's not entirely sure if genies and evil demonic choir boys follow the same wish rules, but who would know better than the ultimate Corporation of Evil?
"Not loving me. Not having sexual relations with me. You don't even have to like me. It's just... I've only got ten years to get this done. I had originally planned to make my triumphant debut amidst a circle of fawning peers in my mid-twenties, but that's not really an option anymore. I need someone who I can talk to, who can talk to me, who can serve as an honest sounding board while at least pretending to have my best interests at heart. And-"
She takes a big gulp, forcing the words past the burning in her eyes and the lump in her throat. "I- I want to know what it's like. Just... what it's like."
Everything is kind of burning now and she really, really hopes he isn't going to make her explain any further. She doesn't think she can fall any farther without never getting up again. When she is finally able to focus her eyes, Jesse's expression is curiously blank.
"Done."
And Rachel discovers that hell can't be any worse than the way she feels right now.
xXx
Any and all comments welcomed and appreciated!
Updated April 29, 2010