A/N: Random things happen randomly. I'm not dead yet, in case anyone was starting to wonder. I know there are a few. Sorry. Also, I remembered my password so that's a huge plus. ALSO. Matt Nathanson inspired this with his brand new song Mission Bells. If you haven't heard it, do your ears and life a favor and give it a listen. You won't be sad. Well. It's Matt so you might be sad but it's worth listening to. Also, I finished this before I watched the episode, so it's sort of spec/AU whatever from the last. It won't spoil anything from 4X16 though.
Disclaimer: I own my car, I own my computer, and I own my mistakes. I don't really own anything else. Suing me is a big fat waste of your time, I promise.
The Only Thing That's Left to Trust
He jolts awake one night in one of those really awful ways—everyone does it sometimes. Like you have a dream and something scares the absolute crap out of you and you jerk awake with your mouth dry and your heart racing. He's had plenty of nights that end like that; well, the night doesn't end because the nights just sort of stretch out indefinitely after you've gotten some sleep that's not nearly enough but then something wakes you up and yeah, it basically sucks.
Half the reason it's so disorienting, though, is he didn't even realize he was asleep in the first place. He tries to get his heart to stop beating, tries to get his stomach to stop feeling like lead. His eyes are open but the room is dark because the television turns itself off if it goes so long without something playing. He was watching some stupid movie on… yeah, he doesn't even know. He traces the minutes or hours or however long back… he still doesn't remember, but comes to the conclusion that basically he fell asleep watching… something. He must bump the remote, lodged in some couch cushions, because the television makes that popping sound and then turns on. Right. He was watching (re-watching?) Six Feet Under because it's the only thing they actually have in the house that he hasn't seen ten thousand times already. Let's face it; he's seen it all because basically watching television is all he does. Did. Does again.
He feels like crap all the time. He thought he was lost before, but it's really nothing compared to now. 'Before' was the time he could at least still cry (that wasn't the plan exactly, okay, but it happened anyway and even though he wasn't glad it had happened, he wasn't embarrassed either) to his teacher… friend… mentor?... about how badly he was messing things up and how he felt like he didn't have anything left that mattered or anything left inside him to give that would be enough for anything. He'd gotten a little bit of a starting point but like when did those ever go well for him anyway?
That stupid dream he had that still makes him feel overwhelmingly sad? Rachel was dead.
Talk about random and out of nowhere.
He's never really gotten the psychic thing, okay? He doesn't think dreams have secret meanings or predict the future. At least, his dreams don't. They never have and they never will and honestly, in the last year he's lost enough sleep that he wasn't sure he could even dream anymore. That's not a metaphor—he knows he'll find a goal or tap into some passion or something. All right, maybe he doesn't know that exactly, but he's not admitting it to anyone but himself. The only person he's really honest with these days, mostly because he's the only one asking him now, is himself. And when he's admitting things, he's scared. He's lost. He feels faithless and numb and alone and lonely. He feels burned out, cheated out, lied to, used, and he let it all happen. It's fine. Other people sometimes don't do good things either, they make mistakes too. He's not blaming anyone for the way he's ending up, no one but himself, but at the same time it's happening. It's just sort of the way it is. Everyone else has these huge successes going on. He's just, like, glad he has all four limbs and most of his teeth. One foot in front of the other and honestly, if the last year or so hasn't killed him, that's gonna have to be his huge success. He's starting to think survival might be the only thing he's got going for him.
Anyway. He wasn't sure he had a heart left to totally destroy but the more he remembers of the dream, the more he thinks he did but maybe not now… he just wants to talk to her. Well really he kind of wishes that she was in the bed he was jolting awake in, but it's been a long time since that was even a possibility and even longer since it was the case. Actually, the last night they shared her bed together, he didn't sleep at all so he definitely didn't dream.
And these dreams started the night she left while he was sleeping and they haven't really let up.
Anyway, he's never really thought of himself as the kind of guy who could have a dream or have dreams, plural, so the fact that he's having them now is kind of disturbing. Yeah, he knows there are different kinds of dreams but he's never really had any of the different kinds, even when he tried to pretend he did. He thinks that dream is just too big of a word for him to process and maybe he just has things he does, not things he plans.
Even without dreams, though, he has things he wants and things he doesn't want. He wants to talk to her, to be with her, to let her make his heart feel stuff because really, that's what she lets him do. He feels things, he does things, and unless they're a huge deal or really disrespectful, he doesn't have to apologize. She understands and plans and dreams for them both. He should be able to do that with her, right? Instead, he started asking questions. Like, questions in his own head and his heart that doesn't believe and doesn't dare to dream and as much as he can say he gave her up for her own good, pushed her toward the future and dreams she had before him and still has now without him—it's a bunch of bullshit. He let her get away. He's so messed up that he gave up the best thing in the world for him; he made it all black and white when it didn't have to be. Instead of letting his world have some color, he pushed her away and flunked out of the army. The last time he even talked to her, he wasn't exactly sober and so he's not sure how all the words and thoughts and things like that came out of his mouth. He knows whatever he said—and he did mean it all, that wasn't the problem. Even if he said it all wrong, she probably understood because she's really understanding and patient with him like that—got her into bed with him. That wasn't even the goal, it was just sort of a nice outcome. Until she was gone, that is, and the dreaming started.
He really doesn't want to think about a world without Rachel Berry in it. He might not have much of a vision for the future but he knows that's one he just doesn't want to live.
She lives with someone.
She lives with someone but she says she's single and sleeps with him and then leaves him in the middle of night to go back to the other guy. He doesn't know much about the other dude, mostly because he doesn't want to know and hasn't asked because then he feels things. The last time he felt those kinds of things, he slashed tires and got into a fuckload of trouble over it.
He blinks again and he realizes it's, like, five in the morning. Probably. He thinks. He doesn't really know anything anymore, and that kind of starts with what time it is and he's not going to figure out where it ends because he'd probably be here a while. Anyway
The things he does know take less time. He knows he's not friends with Mr. Schuester anymore; well, actually, Mr. Schuester isn't friends with him. The devil's in the details and the details just sort of walked away from him because he's the evil monster who accidentally kissed someone even though it didn't mean anything—then or now. It's not like it means more to him now than it did when it happened. He doesn't know when being the guy who owns up to his own mistakes turned into a bad thing but maybe that's what started the whole thing with unlikely happenings like dreams and Rachel dying.
Right. So the next thing he knows is he needs to talk to her and he doesn't really feel like that can wait. He needs to talk to her and know she's okay and knows she's still in the world because that dream really freaked him out. He also knows he's not gonna go back to sleep any time soon.
The next thing he needs is a plan or a direction or a one-way ticket. Even if he doesn't fully trust, doesn't fully believe or feel—he still needs to do something. He knows that really confuses Rachel, especially, but he thinks it's something about him that confuses everyone. How can he go through motions, do things he doesn't feel all the way through to his toes? Rachel, especially, doesn't do anything half-assed. She's all about it, finding out how to be the best and then living that. He's seen—is seeing—what his life is like without that push and he knows he can't keep doing that because basically all he's done is run through resources. He's out of water, out of steam, out of time… he needs to do something.
He can't call her. He knows he can't. She's probably asleep and she lives with someone and he can't go calling her at five in the morning just because he feels like hearing her voice. At least when she called him for that reason, it was at a normal time of day. And he was alone in his room. Whatever. He told her to move on, he can't really get mad that she actually did. Most guys wouldn't realize how great she is and let her go anyway. Okay, saying he let her go is stupid and not the way it was. He hasn't let her go; he can't let her go. That's why, if his dream is real and she died, he's totally fucked.
Most people would be sad, but he's not most people. He doesn't know what there is left of him to destroy but he doesn't actually wanna find out.
Instead of calling, he goes into his room and turns on his computer. He thinks about all the things people have told him that he didn't feel and, as unfair as it seems and he doesn't think he's really cut out for school… he starts looking at colleges. It's different, though, looking at it now when he's by himself. It's mostly different because people aren't desperate to help him; no one really cares any more and maybe that's his fault, but this distance and this space is actually working for him now, when he's by himself.
He can't, and probably won't try to, explain why having a dream Rachel died is what gets him to start looking at college applications. It doesn't make sense to anyone else, he's sure. He gets it though and that's all that matters.
He gets it.
He's only looking at schools in New York. Because he wants to be with her. That's his mission, should he choose to accept it. (Maybe it was MI:3 he fell asleep watching; he really can't remember.)
He accepts it now. All of it. It's not black and white, he has to have this huge dream to go to New York. All he needs is a purpose, and he has that twice—he wants to see her. He wants to do something. He can only do both those things in New York. That's the only place on the planet he can do both.
So he's going.
Even if it's black and white, it's not necessarily complicated. He just made things too hard for too long, okay?