Lost Without You
By: marauderette-47
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of the songs used in this work of fiction.
Author's Note: So…it's official. I've gone from Harry Potter-Obsessed to Glee-Obsessed. I mean, I liked Glee before, but now I love it. Literally! And back when I only liked it (and hadn't seen most of Season 1) I was DIE-HARD Finchel. Now, of course, I have seen the error of my ways and know that St. Berry is the only way to go! If you like this story (or even if you didn't and you want to give a happier or sadder St. Berry story a try, I have tons of them!) then please review! I don't know whether or not I'm going to make this a multi-chap, but for now it can stand as a one-shot. Anywhoo, I hope you all like my story & thank you so very much for clicking on!
The cold night air chilled the people of Manhattan to the bone, and Rachel Berry pulled her coat more tightly around her. Decembers in her beloved New York were always harsh, but this winter seemed to be especially bitter. It was her third year at the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts, and she was finally on her winter break. She had to admit, though, without school her life had been somewhat boring. She had her neighbors, Kurt and Blaine, to speak with of course, but she didn't like infringing on them constantly. She could always call her two Dads, but they didn't understand her like people her own age did. It's not that she didn't have any other friends in New York – on the contrary, she was a very popular young woman – but she wasn't close enough with any of them to have meaningful conversations. It was nights like these, walking the streets alone in the brutal cold, that Rachel missed her friends from Glee. She had kept in touch with most of them – especially Quinn, which had greatly surprised and delighted her – but it wasn't the same as being with them every day like when they were in high school.
Despite the cold, Rachel had to admit that New York was absolutely gorgeous during the holiday season. The weatherman had predicted snow to begin falling on that very evening, and that could only add to the beauty of the city. The lights from the many signs and Christmas lights reflected off of the buildings, creating a wonderland unlike any other. But now, Rachel wasn't Alice – she wasn't the odd one out. She was finally where she belonged.
Rachel had always been a heavy believer in fate – but she didn't think anything of it when an older gentleman bumped into her and knocked her to the ground. It wasn't like it had never happened before – sometimes, people in New York just didn't watch where they were going and Rachel was a small and easy target. But when she fell, attempting to avoid getting stepped on by other city dwellers, she found herself in front of a bar. She could smell the stench of alcohol and sweat from five feet away, and it made her nose wrinkle in disgust. She was about to walk away when she heard a commotion – louder than usual for a bar – from within. Always unable to resist the compelling urge to view drama, Rachel found herself walking towards the small, dirty looking building. She looked through the brightly lit window, and her eyes immediately found the scene that was causing the racket.
It was a karaoke bar, and two guys were onstage. They must have been really drunk, because they were fighting like idiots. They missed nearly every hit they swung at each other, and they were growling like jungle cats. They were screaming unintelligible insults quite loudly, and the rest of the bar had gone deathly quiet to watch the brawl. The owner got a very angry look on his pinched up face, and seemingly attempted to break up the fight, but it was no use. Finally, he got security to grab both young men by the scruff of their necks and throw them out of the bar and into the street – right in front of Rachel.
The first boy grumbled something meaningless and huffed off, simply shouting back to the other boy, "Hope that slut's worth it!" Rachel decided that she didn't like the first boy very much. Sighing, she looked down at the other boy, who was face down on the sidewalk and breathing in rapid little pants. Her compassionate side taking over, Rachel grabbed the boy's broad shoulder, and – with a great amount of force – turned him over.
People around Rachel were complaining about her being in the way, but at that moment, she could hardly bring herself to care. This boy was seriously hurt, and she recognized him!
He was completely out of it – if he was conscious at all it was barely so, and he wouldn't have been able to stand regardless. Trying to push back all of the feelings that were surfacing in Rachel's heart, she tried to pull him to his feet, but the fact of the matter was that he was much bigger than she and it was a lost cause. Not sure what to do, Rachel hailed a cab, and when one finally stopped for her, she begged the driver to help her with who she told him was her brother. She didn't feel like sitting with the greasy looking older man for two and a half hours explaining the complex relationship between herself and Jesse St. James. She promised the man extra money if he helped, and so he begrudgingly agreed, and helped Rachel stuff Jesse in the back of the cab. She told the driver her address, and rode the whole twenty minutes there with Jesse's head in her lap. She gently stroked his hair – sadly now void of curls – and prayed that he wouldn't wake up just yet. She had no idea what she was going to tell him.
While on their way to Rachel's apartment, it finally began to snow. It fell from the sky in dainty flakes that looked like something from a movie. Rachel had been correct – it only made the city more beautiful. She sighed in content as she stared at the scene flying past her out the window – it was like being trapped in a snow globe. She had been so lost in her thoughts that the man driving had to clear his throat twice before Rachel realized that she was home. She paid the driver the cab fare, and opened her door. Using all of the strength she could muster, she was able to pull Jesse from the cab and lean him against a street lamp. The cab driver drove off before she could attempt to bribe him into carrying her 'brother' to their apartment. There weren't many people on Rachel's street that night, so she slowly eased Jesse back onto the ground, and retrieved her bedazzled phone from her coat pocket. Knowing that she would get killed for it later, she dialed Kurt's number and pressed the green 'Send' button.
"This better be important, Rachel. You're interrupting movie night." Came Kurt's voice after one ring. Of course – every Friday night, Kurt and Blaine had a 'movie night' just for the two of them, during which they ordered really expensive pizza and watched the Lifetime Movie of the Week. They did a similar event on Sunday nights with Rachel, except they watched musicals instead of movies.
"What's the flick tonight?" asked Rachel in the calmest voice she could muster. She heard Jesse groan on the ground beneath her.
"Gracie's Choice," said Kurt in a clipped tone. Rachel could tell he was annoyed that she was interrupting his 'date night' with his fiancée.
"Good one," said Rachel, distracted. "Is it a commercial yet? I really need you and Blaine to come down here and help me with something."
"What could you possibly need our help with?" laughed Kurt. "Did someone blind you with a slushy?"
"Good times," sighed Rachel. "But I think I'd even take a slushy facial over what I know I'm going to get stuck dealing with."
"Oh, gossip!" gushed Kurt happily, his chick flick all but forgotten. Rachel was sure that Blaine, too, was listening intently to the conversation.
"Hardly," said Rachel exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. "Some guy knocked me down on the sidewalk and I ended up in front of a bar. There was a fight going on inside, so naturally, I had to look in. Witnessing traumatizing events like that can scar you emotionally, thus creating a fuel for which to feed the fire of creativity later in life. Anyway, the bar owner threw the two men who were fighting out, and the first one walked off, but the second guy was really hurt. Being the kind woman that I am, I bent down to help him, and you aren't even going to believe who it is." Here, Rachel paused dramatically.
"Who?" Kurt practically screeched. Rachel swore she could hear him from the sidewalk.
"Jesse St. James," said Rachel quickly. There – like peeling off a Band-Aid.
"No way!" exclaimed Kurt. "What's he saying?"
"Nothing," said Rachel carefully. "That's my point – he really is hurt, not to mention completely inebriated. He's lying down pitifully by my feet and I can't carry him into the apartment by myself – are you forgetting? He towers over me."
"Blaine and I will be down in less than two minutes! Don't move!" said Kurt quickly. He hung up the phone without waiting for Rachel to reply, and she hesitantly put her own phone back in her pocket. While she was waiting for her best guy friend to make his way down to her, she bent down next to Jesse and placed her fingers in his hair once again.
"You're lucky it was me who found you," she whispered. "If you'd been stuck in this weather all night, you could be dead by morning."
The snow was falling harder now, and was beginning to pile up. Rachel was sure that by morning, the entire city would be covered completely in ice and snow. It would become a winter wonderland overnight, and –
Rachel's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the lobby door opening. Blaine and Kurt raced out quickly, donning appropriate winter apparel, and looking to Rachel for guidance. The latter pointed one gloved hand down at Jesse, and Kurt rolled his eyes.
"You two really are like a bad romantic drama," he joked. "Blaine and I will pick him up from either side of him – it'll be your job to make sure he's steady, okay Rachel?"
Rachel nodded, signaling that she understood Kurt's directions, and the three friends managed to get the passed out ex-superstar into the elevator fairly easily. They pressed the button that would take them to the fourth floor, and waited impatiently to get there, Kurt tapping his designer boot the entire time.
After what seemed like eternity, the four performers were in front of Rachel's door (which, consequently, was right across from Kurt and Blaine's). It had a gold star on it, with the number-letter combination 4-B written in perfect calligraphy. Rachel unlocked it in record time, and turned on the lights. Her apartment was quaint, but well furnished – perfect for a star on the rise. Kurt was breathing heavily as they stepped over the threshold – was Jesse really that heavy?
"On the couch?" Kurt choked out, practically begging Rachel with his eyes that the answer would be in the affirmative.
"No!" said Rachel frantically. She wanted Jesse to be comfortable after how beat up he was. "No, the pull out bed. You two hold him up for a minute and I'll turn the couch into the bed – it's already made, I swear."
Thanking God for her convenient couch-bed, Rachel threw the cushions off of her designer couch and pulled out the mattress in under a minute. As promised, the bed was already made, and Rachel motioned for the boys to set Jesse down on it. They gently laid him against the pillows that Rachel ran to her bedroom to retrieve, and they pulled the blankets up over his body. Rachel thanked her friends profusely, and told them to get back to their movie night.
"Are you sure you'll be okay here alone with him?" Kurt asked skeptically, raising a perfectly waxed eyebrow. Rachel rolled her eyes.
"I'll be fine, Kurt. I'm a big girl."
"We're right across the hall if you need us for anything, Rach." Blaine said sweetly. "Don't hesitate – we won't be angry if you interrupt the movie. We've seen it enough times to know what happens."
"Speak for yourself," Kurt grumbled half-heartedly as they made their way back to their own apartment. As the click of the door sounded, Rachel took a deep breath. Jesse was still completely out of it, so she took the golden opportunity to see how badly he was hurt. She gingerly felt his arms and legs, insuring there were no broken bones. No – none that she could see, anyway. Maybe a cracked rib, but she wouldn't be able to tell that easily just by feeling them. He was pretty bruised, though, and there was a small gash on his forearm – had the other man thrown a beer bottle at him or something? Retrieving the first-aid kit from her cabinet, Rachel treated the wound and went back to assessing Jesse's condition. He seemed okay besides that – until Rachel felt his forehead. He was burning up, but that didn't make sense. He'd been shivering the whole way home – she hadn't worried about that too much because the cab was cold and it was snowing, but even under the blankets of his pull-out bed he shook. Trying not to freak out, Rachel searched her mind for what to do.
More blankets, decided Rachel. I'll get him more blankets, and then I'll get him some ice to bring down the fever. Kurt and Blaine wouldn't know what to do any more than I would. It'll be okay – he's Jesse St. James. He's invincible.
Rachel gave Jesse three more blankets, and tucked him into bed like he was five rather than twenty-four. She put a few pieces of ice in a baggy, wrapped the baggy in a dish towel, and placed the dish towel on Jesse's forehead. He would have an incredibly bad hangover when he woke up, Rachel was sure, but she was determined to ease his pain as much as she could.
When she'd done everything in her power, Rachel finally gave herself a chance to figure out what on earth she was feeling about the boy currently unconscious in her apartment. As she stared into his lifeless, pale face, it was impossible to say that she hadn't missed him. In fact, it wasn't until that moment that she realized how badly she'd been craving his company. The last time she'd seen him had been Nationals of her senior year in high school…an eternity ago…
And the last time she'd seen him, she'd been with Finn. For all he knew, she was married.
In fact, for all Rachel knew, Jesse was married! Reality checking in with her, the tiny brunette darted back to the pull-out bed (not that she'd ever really let it – or him – out of her sight) and lifted up Jesse's left hand. Phew – no ring.
And it wasn't until that moment – when she saw that Jesse was no one's husband – that Rachel finally allowed herself to admit it. I'm still in love with him.
Rachel didn't go to sleep that night. Instead, she sat down on a chair that she'd pulled up to press right against Jesse's bed. She kept the lights on, and settled for watching him sleep. If she was being honest with herself, she just wanted to make sure that he was okay. She was nervous that the man he'd been fighting had done some damage that she hadn't seen, and if she fell asleep, Jesse would be dead or too-far-gone by the time she woke up.
She didn't know when during the course of the night it happened, but eventually, she found herself sitting on the edge of the bed with her hand laced in his. It really did feel like she'd been sucked into a Lifetime movie - and only adding to the necessary drama, Rachel quietly began to sing. It always had been their therapy, and she hoped it would make him better faster.
Oh my man I love him so – he'll never know
All my life is just despair – but I don't care
When he takes me in his arms – the world is bright
What's the difference if I say – I'll go away
When I know I'll come back on my knees someday
Oh whatever my man is – I am his forever more
What's the difference if I say – I'll go away
When I know I'll come back on my knees someday
Oh whatever my man is – I am his forever more!
This time, she did have someone special in mind as she sang the closing number to Funny Girl. It was too bad Jesse wasn't awake to hear it – he'd have been so incredibly proud of her. He would have beamed that incredible smile at her, and showered her with praise. What had he said before?
"I've nothing but the tip of my hat."
It was a rare day to receive a compliment from Jesse St. James, and Rachel still remembered the way her skin had tingled when he'd offered her one. She had felt like Barbra Streisand had told her that she was half as good as she was – and that was saying something.
"If I wanted to make this scenario really dramatic, I would lean over and kiss you right now and you'd wake up and look into my eyes," Rachel whispered to Jesse. "But your breath still smells like alcohol, so that's not going to happen – ever.
"I'm really sorry, Jesse," Rachel continued, getting caught up in her own inner-monologue. "What I did with Finn at Nationals in New York wasn't fair to you – you know I never told anyone, but I agreed with you? That kiss is definitely what cost us the title – and I didn't have the decency to pull away. But I should have – maybe then I wouldn't have lost you.
"You've hurt me in the past as well, but I've forgiven you for that. I know that I hurt you worse, but I hope one day you can forgive me, too. I'm not with him anymore – Finn, that is. You were right all along – I should have listened..."
Three hours later, Jesse finally showed a sign of improvement – he groaned. It wasn't much, but it showed Rachel that he was alive. He even stirred a little bit, and murmured something under his breath. It made him look so innocent and adorable that Rachel's heart melted. She brushed his hair back, and kissed his forehead – it was much cooler, so Rachel assumed his fever had broken. Whether it had been alcohol induced or from an actual illness Rachel wasn't sure, but it didn't matter anymore. He looked a lot better, and Rachel felt a lot of her nervousness wash away. She gripped his hand even more tightly, and waited patiently for him to awaken. She wouldn't lose him this time – she wouldn't.
"No…" he muttered under his breath, causing Rachel's head to immediately snap up. He wasn't awake – not yet at least – but he was talking in his sleep.
"Jesse?" Rachel asked hesitantly, in a voice that wouldn't wake the angels. Jesse turned his head rapidly in his sleep, saying nothing more than the word 'No'. Just as she was really beginning to get worried, his eyes snapped open, and his beautiful blue-green orbs met her brown ones once again.
"Wha-what?" he mumbled, attempting to sit up. That was obviously a bad idea, as his hand immediately went to his head and he gripped it tightly. He probably did have one hell of a hangover.
"Shh…shh…it'll be okay." Said Rachel immediately, gently laying Jesse back down. "I'll get you some Ibuprofen in a minute. Just lay down, alright? You're at my apartment, you're okay."
Jesse seemed to be so out of it that he listened to what Rachel said without question, and she came back a moment later with a glass of water and two small pills. She helped Jesse take them, and then went back to holding his hand. He didn't protest.
"Wha-what h-happened?" he stuttered, staring at Rachel as though she were his best dream ever and he was about to wake up.
"You got into a fight with someone last night," explained Rachel gently, talking to Jesse like she would talk to a child. "-at a bar. I found you on the sidewalk and it was starting to snow, so I took you home."
"Fight?" mused Jesse groggily, as though he was floating away with a memory. He scrunched his eyebrows together in concentration for several minutes, and then the events of the night before seemed to come back to him. He swore under his breath and closed his eyes in anger.
"Are you okay, Jesse?" asked Rachel, concerned for more than just Jesse's physical ailments. "What are you doing in New York? And more than that, what are you doing in New York and not on Broadway?"
But Jesse didn't seem to have heard a word Rachel said. He began mumbling something very quickly, and Rachel really had to concentrate to understand him. It was obvious by his words that he didn't realize that he was talking to Rachel and that he was still half-out of it. "He was talking about her. He said she was a w-whore. She isn't! And he said somethin' 'bout that doof, and then I was hitting him…deserved it…you don't talk 'bout Rach-uhl like that…no…"
Rachel felt her heart break all over again. She rubbed her thumb on Jesse's palm until he fell asleep once again, and only then did she allow herself to shed a single tear. He'd gotten into a fight over her…he still loved her…
When Jesse woke up for real, he finally seemed to have a grasp on reality. Rachel was sure his head still hurt and he was still pretty sore, but at least he'd stopped mumbling to himself and could manage to actually have a conversation with her.
"How did you find me?" Jesse asked timidly, staring at Rachel like he was a blind man seeing for the first time. That look gave her so much hope…
"Fate," said Rachel cryptically, giving Jesse a smile. "Some old guy tripped me and I landed in front of the bar. I saw when security threw you out."
"You sure it's okay that I'm here?" asked Jesse, giving Rachel a ghost of his old smirk and raising an eyebrow. "I don't think your little husband would appreciate me being here."
Huh, thought Rachel. He really does think I ended up with Finn. I thought he was supposed to know me better than I knew myself.
"Jesse," whispered Rachel, hesitantly running a hand through his hair again. She'd forgotten how much she missed that…"There's so much you've missed."
"I tried looking you up," Jesse cut her off. "Everywhere. But I couldn't find you. You haven't been in any shows, you haven't graduated from NYADA…I was beginning to lose hope that I'd ever see you again. But I-I'm glad I get to. Even when there's no way you can reciprocate the feelings I have for you."
"You must still be out of it," laughed Rachel gently. "The Jesse I knew would never admit weakness."
Jesse smirked again, and closed his eyes. "The Jesse you knew is gone."
Rachel's heart ached, but her hope remained alive. "And how can I go about getting him back?"
Jesse cracked open one eyelid, and gave Rachel a look that clearly said, Really? You really think you're going to be able to fix this?
"I missed you," admitted Rachel quietly, so quietly that Jesse almost didn't hear her.
"Why miss me?" smirked Jesse bitterly. "I'm nothing but a washed-up nothing that nobody wants. You should have left me on the street last night, Rachel. I'd be better off dead – all I am is a pain. Couldn't even get a job as a damn singing waiter…cut off from all of my parents' money, not even my Uncle wants anything to do with me. I lost everything and there's no getting it back, so just save yourself the inconvenience and leave me on the street. I'll be out of peoples' hair soon enough."
"Jesse…" murmured Rachel painfully. How could he think that way? This wasn't the boy she'd once known…not even close. Something had happened – something bad. And that something was life. "How could you think that? I'd be broken if I lost you…"
"Funny," said Jesse, in his new sarcastic tone that Rachel could not stand. "Because you seem to be perfectly fine and you lost me a long time ago. No, wait – that's not true. I lost you. And I am broken. Oh, I see how that works."
"Stop it!" said Rachel, a little more loudly than she would have liked. But she didn't care- she was just trying to stop the tears that she knew were on the way from Jesse's lack of faith in himself. "Have you forgotten who you are, Jesse? You're Jesse St. James – star in the making! You have the most amazing voice I have ever heard, and you won four consecutive National Show Choir Championships! You have the best showface I have ever seen, and an ego the size of the Empire State building. You're cocky and ambitious but beneath that I know how much you care about people. You are not worthless, and you do not deserve to die. Finding you on that street was fate – because it brought me back to you. Which is important, because you obviously need some sense slapped into your head!"
"That's not me anymore, Rachel." Jesse insisted brokenly. "Maybe that was me in high school, and even back when I coached Vocal Adrenaline, but after that everything fell apart. I lost the girl; I lost my job…so I came here to look for both. And what did I find? An unforgiving city and a bar that sells cheap liquor."
Rachel couldn't help it now – the tears sprung from her eyes. But Jesse was so weakened, he could even sit up to wipe them away. "Jesse, please," Rachel sobbed. "Come back…come back…"
Really beginning to lose it, Rachel collapsed on the bed next to Jesse and put her head on his chest. She wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she possibly could, and after a moment of hesitation, he began to rub soothing circles on her back. But he said nothing to make her feel better – he couldn't. He would say something to screw everything up, and then there would just be another reason for him to not go on living.
Finally, something dawned on Jesse – Rachel's beloved husband could walk in at any moment and shoot him for touching his girl. "What about Fi-" Jesse began to ask, but Rachel cut him off in the middle of her sobs.
"Broke up. After Nationals."
At those words, something ignited in Jesse's heart – something he hadn't felt in years. Something that made him feel alive. Hope.
"Rachel," Jesse finally whispered. "Please quit crying. I can't stand it when you cry."
"Then come back," demanded Rachel pathetically. "I miss Jesse."
"Yeah," said Jesse almost inaudibly. "Me, too."
Rachel looked up at Jesse through wet lashes, and really looked at his face. It was gaunt and pale, and there were bags under his eyes. He looked sickly and frail and not at all Jesse-like. He was turning into the black hole that occurred when stars died. The star that was once Jesse St. James was all but erased from the world – and it was Rachel Berry's job to bring him back.
"Can you sit up?" Rachel asked gingerly, inspiration suddenly striking her. "I can't carry you, and I need you to come into the music room with me."
"I can try…" said Jesse, obviously confused. "Whatever you gave me worked for the headache – thanks. But you shouldn't have wasted anything on me."
"Shut up," said Rachel, rolling her eyes. Jesse breathed a sigh of relief – at least she wasn't crying anymore.
After ten minutes of effort and heavy leaning against the walls, Rachel and Jesse finally made it to the music room of the Berry flat. In it, there were shelves upon shelves of CDs, videos, sheet music, and speakers. There was also a piano, which was Rachel's destination. She sat Jesse down at the bench, and then took a seat next to him.
"When was the last time you sang?" asked Rachel quickly. "And singing while drunk at a karaoke bar doesn't count."
"I haven't sung a note since Nationals," admitted Jesse sheepishly. "Four years ago."
Rachel resisted the urge to gasp. "Well, I see part of your problem already. You're like me – you need applause to live. If you're not performing, you aren't whole. So we're going to sing now – together. It'll set you on the road to recovery."
Ignoring Jesse's protests, Rachel began to play the opening notes of Hello. Jesse moaned in pain at the young starlet-to-be's song choice, but Rachel ignored him. She would get her old Jesse back.
When his cue came in, he didn't sing. Biting back an insult, Rachel took his solo.
I've been alone with you inside my mind
And in my dreams I've kissed your lips a thousand times
I sometimes see you pass outside my door
Hello? Is it me you're looking for?
Finally, it seemed to dawn on Jesse that Rachel wasn't going to give up, and he reluctantly took over the chorus. Despite its years of neglect, his voice was just as perfect and beautiful as Rachel had remembered. Together, they lost themselves in the music and allowed the lyrics to carry them away into a world filled with dreams. Jesse wasn't back – not completely. It would take a lot more time, and a lot more music, but Rachel was sure she would achieve her goal of helping Jesse find himself again. After all, taking over New York with him wasn't a fantasy. It was an inevitability.
That's all for now! If I continue it, I don't know how long it'll be – two shot? Three shot? Multi-chap? Up to you! Review and give me your thoughts – I eagerly await them! By the way, just so there's no confusion, I realize Jesse was WAY OOC. I was trying to make him seem that way – I want him to be broken and bitter and weak so that Rachel can fix him so that there's lots of fluff! Just saying :) Thanks for reading!