Summary: One-shot. Rachel has been plagued by troubling nightmares of which she is has no memory of when she wakes up. Frustrated, she turns to the aid of a pill so that she can remember her dreams. What does she remember? St. Berry.
Pairing: Jesse/Rachel; St. Berry. Mentions of Finchel.
Spoilers: Up to season 2. This story takes place after the season 2 finale. Everything happens as cannon, except we're pretending that all the Finchel stuff that happened in the finale still did, but not quite so definitively—Rachel's response isn't quite as positive. Just go with it.
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated in any way with Glee. This story is merely for entertainment
Rachel shifted awkwardly in her chair. The cheap plastic was worn and had a deep impression on the seat of it from being sat on one too many times, making it feel as though she was sitting on a plank of wood. Even worse was the fact that she was wearing her typical short skirt today and the backs of her thighs were sticking uncomfortably to the chair, making an audible sound whenever she tried to move.
"Okay, uh, Miss Berry," the doctor spoke as he flipped through some papers, "what exactly seems to be the problem?"
Deciding to ignore the chair situation, Rachel sat up and smiled brightly at the doctor. "Well, Dr. Edwards, it started over a month ago," she started. "It was about just before prom and I started waking up every morning in a cold sweat and feeling very anxious. I figured that it was just the stress of going to prom dateless, my ex-boyfriend returning to his old girlfriend, and my other ex-boyfriend suddenly showing up in town, so I thought nothing of it. Prom came and went and still, every morning I would wake up feeling terrible, though of course, then I wrote it off to being nerves about the glee club's upcoming National's competition. But Nationals was a couple of weeks ago and this is still going on. I figured that I could make excuse after excuse about what could be causing me to feel this way, or I could find out for sure. That's why I decided to see a sleep specialist."
Dr. Edwards was scribbling down the last few words on a sheet of paper and, eyebrows raised, looked at Rachel. "That is rather peculiar, Miss Berry," he said. "Have you been having any other problems sleeping, or is it just when you wake up?"
"Just when I wake up. Otherwise, I feel perfectly normal and not particularly sleep deprived. I have a very busy schedule, so I don't have any problem sleeping heavily," she told him.
"Mhmm…" Dr. Edwards straightened a stack of papers on his desk and fixed the glasses on his face before turning again to face Rachel. "Your reaction is very similar to that of a person awaking from a nightmare, but it seems that you have had no memory of any such dream, correct?"
Rachel's brows furrowed as she tried to think back. "No, I guess not."
The doctor nodded. "My guess would be then, that you are experiencing a recurring nightmare that you are able to wake up from, but that your mind tries to shut out from your memory. I would suggest that you treat that," he paused, rifling around in one of his drawers, "by taking one of these each night," he finished, taking out a small, orange pill bottle and handing it to Rachel.
Rachel fingered the container, reading the small script on the side, but was unable to discern the meaning of any of the words. "What is this?"
"This is a, er, for lack of better words, a 'dream-remembering' pill," he explained. "Take one of these each night before you go to sleep, and I can guarantee that you will remember each and every one of the dreams you have that night, without it disrupting your sleep. This way, you can encounter this nightmare that is waking you up, be able to face it, and ultimately get past it."
"Okay," Rachel said, still looking at the bottle uncertainly.
Dr. Edwards smiled reassuringly "I suggest that you keep a dream journal in which to write down these dreams, and that you come back to see me after a day or two."
Rachel nodded her head slowly in understanding. "And this is the only effect of this pill?"
"The only one."
That night, Rachel had gone about her normal bedtime routine. She washed her face, took a shower, brushed her teeth, changed into her pajamas, put on her eye-mask, and crawled into bed. This time, however, before slipping the mask over her eyes, she grabbed the small orange bottle, twisted the childproof cap, and popped one of the green pills into her mouth, swallowing it dry. She grimaced slightly at the taste and the sensation, working her throat to get it down. Once she could no longer feel the capsule in her esophagus, she lowered her facemask and put her head on her pillow, falling asleep almost immediately.
Her first dream was an uneventful one. She was in the music section of the library, as she frequently is, and sat down at the piano, playing a piece that she had picked out. Luckily, dream-Rachel was a wiz in the piano, so the performance was flawless. She could feel herself smiling.
Rachel had a few more dreams, some short, some long, some complex and creative, others simple. None of them were particularly unsettling, though, except one in which she was falling, and none caused her to wake up, in a cold sweat or otherwise.
After surprisingly not waking up from the falling dream, Rachel found herself somewhere else. Somewhere familiar. Underneath her was an illuminated floor, black curtains were in front of and behind her. She blinked and heard an audience clapping and cheering. Her head swiveled to look out at them. There were thousands of people there. Nationals. When she turned back, Finn was standing right in front of her, his face inches away from her own and getting closer. Before she could even think, his lips were on hers and she found herself reliving the moment. Her hand went up to clutch his shirt and her lips moved in tandem against his own. She stayed like that for a few seconds before pulling away, and taking one last look at the audience. Her eyes fell upon one face, and everything went black.
Her eyes shot open and she was wide awake, breathing heavily, clammy hands clutching onto her sheets. She yanked off her facemask and took a few moments to calm down. With her breathing now steady, Rachel reached at slightly shaking hand out to her new dream journal and the pencil she had placed on top of it and she began to write.
"The only question I have is why that last dream would make me wake up as though I had just relived a murder?" Rachel asked exasperatedly. She had been considering that question every since she woke up that morning and had had her dads make an appointment right way with Doctor Edwards.
"Hmm." Dr. Edwards tapped his pen on his desk a few times before he tried Rachel's question. "You say that you love this boy?"
"Yes."
"And you're seeing him right now?"
"Well…"
Dr. Edwards raised his eyebrows, urging her on.
"Well, not exactly. He propositioned that we start going out again, but I left it kind of open ended. I haven't given him a straight answer yet," Rachel explained.
"So maybe you're feeling this way because you're nervous to tell him yes or no," Dr. Edwards suggested.
Rachel felt out the idea in her mind, but shook her head. "No, it can't be that, because these feelings started before…" Rachel trailed off, suddenly furrowing her brows in deep thought. "Wait. If these dreams are about Nationals, then how could they have started before we competed?"
"Uh…"
That night, Rachel continued the same exact routine that she had done the night before. As she lay in bed, fingering the little green pill, she whispered, "Give me a straight answer this time," and swallowed it easily. Then she went to sleep.
She had a few dreams, none of which were too extraordinary, and she came out of each of them rather quickly. None of them came close to waking her up and none of them were upsetting.
After one that was about a flying cake, she found herself at prom. She could tell instantly from the strange feeling of wearing something without sleeves and instantly she brought her arms closer to her body. Then she realized her eyes were closed. She opened them and found a room filled with streamers and lights. Blaine's head was poking up above the rest, for once, and was onstage singing I'm Not gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance with You. She smiled when she saw him rocking it out and immediately began dancing.
Suddenly she felt a hand clasp hers and she was whirled towards Jesse, who immediately began doing the pretzel with her. She grinned wildly and took his other hand once they finished the move and they fell easily into step together. With every move, they gravitated closer together and soon Rachel was throwing her arms around him, bringing him as close as she could as he lowered his head to nuzzle her neck. For a moment she felt warm and content, but her stomach dropped almost immediately, knowing what was coming next.
In a flash, Jesse was ripped away from her, a fist connecting strongly with his cheek just a moment later. He fell back, clutching his face, and Rachel gasped. This wasn't what she remembered. The fight between her two ex's kept getting more and more brutal, and there was no Sue Sylvester to step in and tear the two apart. She never thought that they day would come that she would long for that woman, but in this moment, she wanted anything to make it stop. Taking a strong breath, Rachel stepped toward the fight, but before she got the chance to figure out a way to split it up, she found herself being thrown back as Jesse's body was pushed into her own. They both were falling, about to hit the floor, and everything went black.
Her eyes shot open and she was wide awake, breathing heavily, clammy hands clutching onto her sheets. This time, simple breathing exercises did nothing to slow down her racing heart. Instead, she threw the covers off of her, the air hitting her sweating body immediately and cooling her down. Her face mask had slipped off while she was asleep, evidence of her tossing and turning. She slipped on her slippers and padded a few paces around her room, calming her high-strung nerves. After a few minutes, she reached out for her dream journal and wrote down the excruciating dream.
"It was horrible," Rachel finished, after recounting the terrible nightmare to Dr. Edwards. He had requested that she come in again the next day if she experienced a different dream, as they had both hypothesized, so here she was again, sitting on the uncomfortable plastic chair. This time, though, it had occurred to her to wear tights. She felt dumb for not thinking of that the day before.
"Well, this definitely explains the response that you've been having more than the dream you told me yesterday," Dr. Edwards said. "Perhaps that first dream was a sequel, if you will, to this past one, and that is why it yielded such a reaction, despite its unremarkable nature."
Rachel pursed her lips, considering the idea. "It just makes no sense," she muttered, almost to herself. "That dream was almost exactly as the actual even occurred, whereas this one…" She shuddered. "This one was much more gruesome than the fight that actually happened."
"Perhaps this fight was supposed to represent something," Dr. Edwards offered.
"Like what?"
Dr. Edwards shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I'm a sleep specialist, not a dream interpreter."
Rachel rolled her eyes. This was getting her nowhere.
Later, it dawned on Rachel that these dreams began just before prom, not after it. So there had to be at least one more dream that had been haunting her. That evening, she slipped her facemask over her forehead, swallowed what she hoped would be her last green pill, and easily fell asleep.
Again, completely random dreams filled her subconscious. One was a dream about a bunny that felt vaguely like a dream that she had had as a small child, and another one gave her a good idea for a song that she could write, but she knew that none of them could be the one that she was waiting for.
Until she found herself in the McKinley auditorium. Judging by the past two dreams, she immediately felt a rouse of unease spread through her system, even though she was in a place that she usually felt more comfortable in than she did anywhere else. But, she felt a score of music in her hand, and there was a piano right in front of her, so she knew exactly what to do. She unfolded sheet music and bent back the crease so that it would stay easily on the piano and gave herself the starting note, despite her practically perfect pitch. She sang the opening verse to Rolling in the Deep and drew in a deep breath before the next line, not to sing it, but as she waited for someone to interrupt her.
Almost immediately she heard the next line ring out across the auditorium and she turned around sharply when she heard it. It was a tone softer than the rough, edgy voice than she had been expecting and it threw her off. Before her, at the auditorium's furthest door, she saw Finn. He finished the line and began bounding down the stairs with the next.
Rachel couldn't help but feel confused as she saw the boy approaching. This wasn't right. Why was Finn here? And where was Jesse? Finn was almost right in front of her and was finishing the line just before the chorus. She took a deep breath to join him on it, but instead of singing, he opened his mouth to speak. "You don't worry about him," he said, seeming to answer her unspoken question. "He won't bother you again."
He reached out to her, but Rachel pulled back, scooting off the piano bench and ran right past him and up the stairs that he had just walked down. When she had almost reached the top, the lights went off and the door slammed in her face and everything went black.
Her eyes shot open and she was wide awake, breathing heavily, clammy hands clutching onto her sheets. She wasn't sure if her shaky breaths were from the dream or the feeling of just sprinting up the auditorium steps. Luckily, this time it only took her a few moments before her hand fumbled on her side table for her dream journal and she only paused to take off her sleep mask before beginning to write the dream in it.
Dr. Edwards sat tapping his pen against his desk repeatedly, eyeing Rachel expectantly. "So…?"
Rachel mirrored his expression, also looking at him expectantly. "So…?"
"So why would the door closing in an auditorium scare you enough to wake you? Are you afraid of the dark?"
Rachel scoffed. "No, I am not afraid of the dark."
"So what is it then?"
Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. "You're the doctor. A doctor my dads happen to be paying out the nose for, by the way, so why don't you tell me?"
"I said, I'm not a dream interpret—" He cut himself off at Rachel's furthering glower and sighed. "Fine. If I had to wager a guess, I would say that this must have something to do with the two boys that were featured in the three dreams. However, I don't know your personal life, so I can't say what exactly it means."
"You think that I feel anxious because of them?" Rachel asked dubiously.
"When did you say the dreams started again?"
That made Rachel pause. She had started waking up tense the very day that Jesse had arrived and every day since. "It has to be about Finn and Jesse," she concurred.
"How do you think?" the doctor asked.
"I think I have to decide."
Rachel wandered through the next day in a blur. She had woken up that morning again in a cold sweat, however she hadn't bothered taking one of the green capsules. She needed some time to think about what all this meant before she complicated matters further.
Finn. Jesse. Jesse. Finn. Rachel kept tossing the two names around in her head, feeling strange every time she did so. She had been feeling weird about Finn the past couple weeks just because she was keeping him on the fence. These dreams just make her feel more uncertain about what to tell him. If this were just about her and Finn, the dreams would just be about the two of them, right? But now she had Jesse in the mix too.
She loved Finn.
She did not love Jesse. Of that she felt certain. But could she?
Rachel sat at the edge of her bed that night looking at the orange bottle of green pills. If she took one, she might get an answer, or she might get even more tangled up in the web of Finn and Jesse. She sat pondering it for nearly ten minutes before she finally ripped open the childproof cap and popped the pill into her mouth and swallowed before she could give another thought to it. This had to end.
Otherwise her sweat would completely ruin all of her sheets.
She must have had a number of dreams that night, but as soon as they were over, she tossed them aside, knowing that they were unimportant, despite their relative levels of intrigue. Her subconscious was very creative. Not that that surprised her.
Then a dream began just as the first one had on that first night. She found herself in the music section of the local library and picked up a piece and placed it on the piano. She couldn't actually hear the tune, but she felt herself playing it and eventually singing it as well. Then, out of nowhere, someone appeared and sat next to her. She didn't turn to see who it was; she was too involved in her song. The person hummed along harmony to the smooth melody she was singing, but never fully joined her. She couldn't hear it, but she felt that the music they made was beautiful. The last cord was hit, and she lifted her hands off the keys, finally turning to face the boy, and everything went black.
She woke up frustrated. For a moment, she just lay in bed frowning, with her eyes still closed. She would have been unable to see through the mask she wore over her eyes anyway. Then she gasped. Her hands weren't clammy. Her eyes hadn't shot open. Until the gasp, her breathing had been shallow and easy. This was the first time in over a month that she hadn't woken up in a cold sweat.
She smiled, and grabbed her dream journal, writing down what she was sure to be her last dream in it.
A week later, Rachel found herself again sitting in the worn plastic chair, looking across at Dr. Edwards, after having just recounted the last dream. "Here." Rachel reached across the desk and set down a still mostly full bottle of green pills. "I don't need these anymore."
Dr. Edwards hesitantly picked up the orange container and eyed Rachel curiously. "So, who was it in the last dream? Did you figure out what the dreams were telling you to do?"
"Yes, I did," Rachel said with a nod of her head, an easy grin on her face.
Dr. Edwards decided to forgive her blatant ignoring of the first question. "And…?"
"And you were right, after that second dream when you said that the fight represented something. It was the battle between Finn and Jesse for my heart, and time and time again, Finn has beaten Jesse." Rachel paused to let that sink in before moving on. "I told you after the first dream that I loved Finn. And I was right; I did. He was my first crush, my first love, how could I not?" she reasoned. "But Jesse and I are perfect for each other, and I always knew that. So how could I decide who was better for me?"
"Then came the last dream," Dr. Edwards said.
"Then came the last dream," Rachel echoed. "It was easy, comfortable, and pleasing. But I couldn't see who the person was beside me. Then I started to think. This dream was almost exactly the same as the dream I had had the night before with Finn, but in this one, I didn't run away when the boy sat beside me, and I wasn't in a panic when I woke up. So, that made the decision easy." Rachel paused, pondering that statement. "Well, as easy as a life-changing decision can be."
"And how have the last couple of days been?"
"Absolutely nightmare-free."
Dr. Edwards smiled. "Then I suppose you really don't need these anymore," he said, slipping the pill bottle into his drawer.
"Nope," Rachel said, returning his smile.
They both stood up and shook hands across the desk separating them. "I hope nothing but the best for you, Rachel," Dr. Edwards said as Rachel stepped behind the chair and moved to push it under the desk. She felt the rough plastic on her fingertips as she moved it and then wiped her hands on her skirt.
"And I hope you get a new chair."
Rachel left the office feeling free and light. She practically skipped down the steps and onto the sidewalk, into the bright summer sun. She bathed in it for a moment before she saw a curly-haired boy approach. He sidled up beside her and pulled her close, kissing her softly on the lips.
"How'd it go?"
Rachel pulled back slightly from their embrace so that she could look up into his clear blue eyes. "Wonderfully."
Pleased with the response, Jesse took Rachel's hand in his and they laced their fingers together automatically, before walking to the parking lot. As they walked, Jesse looked down at Rachel and noticed a large grin, unfaltering on her face. "What are you smiling about?"
"I'm just happy," she said honestly. Because in that moment, Rachel knew that never again would she have to worry about nightmares ever again, because she would always have someone to chase them away.
A/N: This was a plot bunny that just popped into my head after reading an actually totally unrelated short story for English class. I thought that it might be cute, and I haven't gotten the chance to write any St. Berry fanfiction yet, so I thought that I would just see what would happen. I wrote it almost entirely in one sitting and I don't even know if I like how it turned out, but I wanted to post it anyway to get your feedback. So please tell me if you like it or it you thought it was stupid! Also, if you have any St. Berry requests, they're welcome. Thanks for reading!
Oh, and the title is from a song in Oklahoma! which is particularly fitting because Laurey is one of Rachel's dream roles.