Rachel Berry was very much in love.
She had been in love from the second he joined the New Directions, his transfer from a small school a few hours away barely even begun when he auditioned. His voice captivated her more than any amount of charm, intelligence, wit and attractiveness could. Not that he didn't have all these things, because he did-and in spades no less-but it was his voice that made her fall.
It was only natural that she'd walk up to him after the meeting was over for the day, holding out a hand and introducing herself. "I'm Rachel Berry," she said, her tone confident as she took in his dark eyes, big smile, short curly hair.
"Blaine," he responded, shaking her hand with a grin. "Blaine Anderson."
That was all it took, and she knew it. She was a goner with no hope of turning back.
They were 'just friends' for approximately two months before she finally gave in and made her move, kissing him after Noah scored the winning touchdown at one of their football games. She never even read Finn's text, inviting her to the celebration party at Santana's house later that night, until the next morning. She had spent the entire evening with her face glued to Blaine's, completely content to stand in the parking lot where they wound up, their lips chapped and faces pink from the cold air and their own nerves.
"I'm glad you finally made a move," he told her quietly, brushing away a stray piece of brown hair as he gazed at her, the look almost too intense. But she was Rachel Berry, and 'intense' was her thing.
"One of us had too," she grinned back, and without another word he leaned over and kissed her again.
From then on, the excuse of 'just friends' was forgotten, and Blaine and Rachel became even more inseparable than before.
"You know," Rachel said as she sat down on Blaine's bed one summer afternoon, "we've been together for nearly 10 months now."
"Has it really been that long?" he asked, a small smile on his face as he crashed on the floor next to the bed, leaning his head against her bare legs, the curls tickling her skin slightly.
"It has," she answered, leaning down and placing a small kiss on the top of his head before falling backwards, staring out the big picture window next to his bed. "And school is starting up again soon, and maybe this year New Directions can actually win a competition-"
"With you as our leader, I'm surprised we haven't yet," he complimented, placing a soft kiss on her leg, smirking a bit as she hummed quietly.
"And maybe I'll even try out for the school musical this year, so I'm more well-rounded. I know we'll only be sophomores, but it's never too early to think about college."
"You've always been a planner," he grinned. She tucked her legs under herself, spinning around on the bed so her head was now leaning off the side next to his.
"I love you," she whispered, her dark eyes frozen on his own, feeling the same flutter she felt every time the words fell from one of their mouths, even months after the first time they came up.
"I love you too," he said, a finger tracing the curve of her cheek before he brought her face to his, all other plans they may have had for the afternoon forgotten as she tumbled to the floor with him.
Blaine was sweet, and intelligent, and kind. He supported Rachel in everything she wanted-from her dreams to one day land on Broadway to beating out Kurt for student body president, though she ultimately lost to Brittany. Blaine was someone Rachel was sure would never hurt her, and after having been bullied-mostly be those she didn't know, though Finn and Quinn and Santana had been known to throw an insult her way more than once-she trusted him.
School started once more, and when she ran to tell Blaine about the fact that she landed the lead in the school musical, he picked her up and spun her around in a circle, the people in the hallway giving them a wide breadth as they celebrated in a major public display of affection they rarely allowed.
"That's fantastic Rachel," he grinned, slinging an arm over her shoulders. "I'm so proud of you."
"Thank you," she blushed, leaning into his side.
"Who is going to play your leading man?"
"Well, while I still wish it would be you," she started, ignoring the face he made-she had asked him to audition with her, but he assured her acting was her goal, not his, "it's a transfer student in from Carmel. Jesse St. James. He's very talented."
"He'd have to be to keep up with you," Blaine said quietly, pressing another kiss to the side of Rachel's head.
She was positive no one would ever be more perfect than Blaine. He was her soulmate, her better half, everything she could have ever expected to find and more.
The thought that he might not be was something that never even crossed her mind.
Rachel enjoyed her time on the stage, blocking and running lines. Jesse was talented, and funny, and an attractive co-star. Not that she felt anything for him, all her love was reserved strictly for Blaine, and she made sure he knew it. He had snuck in and watched some of their rehearsals, and after the first one he watched-well, she had never seen Blaine jealous before, and she wasn't sure it was a side of him she enjoyed.
"Do you like him?" Blaine had asked, his voice harsher than she was used to when he cornered her in the deserted hallway after rehearsal let out for the evening.
"What?" she had replied, completely dumbfounded. "Of course not, Blaine, I love you and only you."
He didn't look at her, staring at the wall behind her before he nodded tightly, seeming to make a decision in his head before he pushed her against the wall behind them, his mouth practically bruising her own with the ferocity in his kiss. "It better stay that way," he muttered, but she hadn't been able to form a reply before he kissed her again.
It was the first time she left his side confused at his actions, the first time he had really thrown her off guard in an unpleasant way.
"Your boyfriend is kind of intense," Jesse remarked one day as they took a break between scenes, getting waters for the two of them after Blaine stormed out of the auditorium, Rachel sucking her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him go.
"I think he's just a little stressed right now," she said quietly, taking her water with an even quieter "Thank you."
"Or he just doesn't like me," Jesse offered, and she frowned, not particularly wanting to get into the subject with him. He was great in a lot of ways, but he was cocky and he was arrogant and if the rumors were true, he had already slept with her understudy and one of the supporting actress. She tried not to put too much faith in rumors, but she couldn't help but think this one was more than true.
"I'm sure it's nothing against you specifically," she finally told him, and Jesse just let out a low chuckle.
"Trust me Rachel, I get it. I've been the cause of destruction on far more stable relationships than yours, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was threatened by my talent and our obvious chemistry."
"Obvious chemistry?" she questioned, because to her that was clearly the biggest lie she had to address first. "We have good on-stage chemistry, I'll agree. But off-stage, well, you're kind of an asshole," she told him, and now he laughed even louder.
"But it kind of works well with your innocent attitude," he smirked, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a standing position with him once more. "Plus, there's the whole we're-going-to-have-to-make-out thing, which I'm sure Blaine isn't going to appreciate-"
"He doesn't know about it yet," Rachel mumbled, her voice barely above a breath, and Jesse didn't bother to comment any further, simply raising an eyebrow as Artie announced it was time to get back to work.
"I don't like him," Blaine finally admitted one Saturday evening while the two were curled up on her couch, watching Funny Girl for approximately the twelve thousandth time.
"Who?" Rachel questioned, so enraptured in her favorite film that she couldn't come up with who Blaine was talking about, and when he answered with a short and terse 'Jesse' she literally sat up and stared at him. "You're thinking about Jesse right now?"
"I just-I don't like the way he stares at you Rach," Blaine said. "And I don't think I like the way you stare back."
"I'm not-I've never stared at him intentionally when we're not on stage. I'm usually too busy to focus on him unless we're in practice," she responded, trying to keep her tone calm.
"Intentionally," he emphasized, his eyes narrowing in her direction.
"I'm never even around him when we're not rehearsing! Blaine, why are you so-why do you feel so threatened by him? How could you ever doubt that I only want to be with you?" She tried to reason, moving closer to him and grasping his hands in her own. "How could you, for even one second, assume I'd want anyone in the same way I want you?"
"Maybe I'm more worried about him than I am you," Blaine bit back, but his tone was less harsh, and she sensed the end of the argument coming.
"You have nothing to be worried about," she assured, now moving herself completely into Blaine's lap as she snuggled in closer. "I would never do anything to hurt you."
Blaine's silence as they settled back in for the movie didn't hit her until later that night, when she began thinking about how odd it was he hadn't returned the sentiment immediately back.
Blaine seemed relatively back to normal for the next few weeks, though he stopped crashing rehearsals as often and Rachel was starting to worry he was avoiding her in general. When she asked him about it, he would give away some sort of excuse that she knew wasn't the full truth, but decided not to press it when his lips stayed in a thin line that made her nervous.
She wasn't used to fighting with Blaine. She had been so used to the perpetually happy Blaine who loved nothing more than to laugh with her, who would kiss her on the forehead whenever she got nervous, who would relax any stress she had with a simple smile and a squeeze of their hands. The one she trusted to give her whole body, heart and soul to.
But that Blaine was rapidly disappearing, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why. "Talk to me," she whispered to him one day when they had some spare time together, something that was rapidly becoming a rarity. They had jumped at the chance for alone time, rushing to her house and barely making it to her bedroom before their clothes became scattered about. With her in the play and Blaine focusing on school work-he was in advanced classes, and they were slightly more difficult than her own-they hadn't even so much as kissed for more than a couple seconds in almost a week. Anything else had been off the table for nearly a month. She was far from some sort of sex crazed nympho or anything, but she was a teenager just as much as he was, and aside from the physical need, she was hoping that sleeping together would remind Blaine of the connection they shared, how much she loved him, how much he loved her, and he would come back to his normal sunny disposition.
It seemed to have worked pretty well, his fingers lightly stroking her arm as he looked at her, a look of happiness on his face for the first time in weeks. "About what?" he whispered back, though there was really no reason too-no one was around, her dads' out at work for the afternoon.
"About what's going on with you lately," she replied softly, and instantly he retracted his hand, his eyes losing their gleam of contentment as he rolled on his back, leaving her to feel empty and abandoned without him touching her even in the simplest way anymore.
"I don't know how many times I have to tell you Rachel," he said, his voice even and steady, "there's nothing going on."
"But there is," she argued, and while his tone had reached a normal volume, hers was still low, scared almost. "You've been-you've been distant and angry and I just need to know that it isn't me, that you still love me." She was almost in tears now, her worst fears falling out of her mouth, and he just frowned as he looked at her again, brushing hair out of her face as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her.
"It's not you," he promised. "It'll never be your fault." She chose to believe him, letting a small bit of relief sweep over her as she tried to steady herself.
It's not you.
Opening night arrived and the play went off without a hitch. Rachel was sure she had given a perfect performance, completely enraptured by her character, glad that someone like Jesse was her leading man, as only he could give such a stunning performance. They had come to form some sort of friendship now, and while he still hit on her an obscene amount of the time, she was learning to ignore it, occasionally bringing up Blaine and how wonderful he was just to annoy Jesse into shutting up.
"I'm pretty sure this calls for a celebration," Jesse beamed at her as they walked off stage, his arm slung casually around her, and she just scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"Thanks, but I have plans with Blaine," she responded, heading towards her dressing room so she could change before meeting up with her boyfriend.
"Wait," Jesse said, his hand grabbing her arm and pulling her towards a small stairwell near the area, and before she could object and push him away, she heard him say "Let's end this charade," his lips quickly attaching themselves to her own.
She stood there in shock, not kissing back per say, but not pushing away before her brain registered what was happening, and she just heard a "Get the fuck away from her," from the stairs next to them, her senses finally kicking in and shoving Jesse away as she took Blaine in, his hands clasped in firm fists before he reached out and grabbed Rachel's wrist, his hold on her tight on the verge of painful.
"Ow," she whispered quietly, but when Blaine's glance turned her way, she quickly shut up. His eyes were much darker than they normally were, harder and almost terrifying in a way. She didn't like how his whole body seemed tense, and she wanted to just explain what had happened, explain how it wasn't important because Blaine was the only one she cared for, but then he was speaking, and it was low and her own body tensed in fear at it's tone.
"Why the hell are you kissing my girlfriend?" Blaine seethed, and Jesse just smirked, looking all too smug for someone who had just tried to coerce a girl into cheating.
"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, and Rachel couldn't even yell 'No!' before Blaine was across the stairwell, Jesse's shirt bunched in Blaine's fists as he let out a stream of profanity and insults in Jesse's way, raising a fist to punch when Mr. Schuester appeared, quickly separating the two.
"What is going on here?" He asked, incredulously looking back and forth between the two boys. When neither offered an explanation, instead choosing to glare at the other instead, Rachel grabbed Blaine's hand, wrapping it in her own as she pulled him closer to her.
"Nothing, Mr. Schuester, it was an accident, we'll be on our way." She watched as he debated with himself, probably trying to decide which option was the best, before finally waving the two of them on, and Blaine's grip tightened around her own, squeezing so hard it was starting to hurt as he essentially dragged her out of the building and to his car.
"Blaine-" she tried to start, wanting to explain everything, but he just shook his head tersely.
"Not right now," he said shortly, and something in his tone shut her up, curling in on herself as she sat in the car, vaguely aware she was still in costume, that they were supposed to be going to the cast party only to be heading in the direction of her house.
She was quiet, taking Blaine's appearance in as he drove. His mouth was a straight line, his eyes cold and dark and hard, and he seemed to be practically vibrating with anger, and she was amazed he was driving as well as he was. She went to open her mouth, to say something, but decided the car wasn't the best place, instead choosing to stare ahead of her once more and gather her thoughts.
He slammed the car door shut after he pulled up, not even bothering to wait for her to get out, and now she could feel herself verging on tears as she slowly followed, even though it was her house. He headed straight for the basement after fishing out the key under the doormat and letting them in, Rachel making sure the front door was at least closed before she trudged down wearily after him.
"Blaine," she started, standing at the opposite end of the room as him, but he only held up a hand to shush her as he started pacing back and forth. "Blaine," she said again, trying to make her voice sound calm and strong even though it was taking all her willpower not to break down into a sobbing mess. "Blaine, it wasn't-"
"Shut up Rachel," he snapped, and while it was nothing she was used to, she could understand-he was mad and upset and hurt, and he could tell her to shut up right now while he worked through it. But she wanted him to know it hadn't happened because of her. That this wasn't anything she wanted.
"No," she said instead, walking over to him and grabbing his arm so he'd stop pacing, trying not to flinch at the darkness she saw in his expression. "No, Blaine, because this wasn't my fault-"
"Of course it was," he snarled, and now the tears were starting to prickle in the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"It was Jesse! Blaine, Jesse grabbed me and kissed me and-"
"And you didn't push him away," he argued, his voice louder than hers now. "You didn't do anything until I made a noise. I was there Rachel, I was heading to the dressing room to find you, to congratulate you. You weren't going to stop him."
"I was!" she cried out, because she had to defend herself. "I didn't want to kiss him! I don't want to kiss anyone but you!"
"Liar!" he spat, and now she felt like her heart was breaking.
"I'm not lying! I didn't want it, Blaine, it was all him!"
"You are lying, just-just shut up Rachel! You're not making anything any better!" He yelled, and she shook her head, moving closer to him.
"No, I am not lying, Blaine I don't want him!" She tried to reason, but he scoffed in her direction, and when she opened her mouth to explain again, he yelled at her to shut up again. "Blaine, please believe me, I never want to hurt you-"
She didn't even see it coming. One minute she was pleaded for him to listen, the she felt the sting on her cheek, the shocked expression on his face like he couldn't believe what he had done, and as she gingerly reached up her own hand to touch her face, the words he hit me rang through her head. But still, she couldn't process the thought. This was Blaine, her Blaine, who would never hut her. He would never stoop to something like hitting when he was upset, but the darkness that was still in his eyes, behind what she could see now were fear and shock and pain, and she knew he had done it.
"I'm-shit, Rach, I'm sorry," he mumbled, reaching over to caress her burning cheek, and she couldn't fight the flinch that overcame her when his hand came near her again, not sure how to handle anything that had happened in a span of 30 seconds. It was like everything she had once known was tilted, altered, and nothing made sense anymore. "I should probably," he started, and when she didn't say anything, he just nodded. "I'm going to go," he said quietly, and she could see that the full effect of what he had done was settling in to him, tensing as he leaned over and kissed her cheek, feeling the sting even more at the small amount of pressure as her eyes closed, finally allowing the tears to fall when she heard the front door close.
She tossed and turned that entire night, unable to focus on sleep, knowing she had to get some for the play the next evening. But all she could think of was Blaine's anger, his hand across her face, the shock both had felt right afterwards.
She knew what she should do. Your boyfriend hits you, you break up with him. But she loved Blaine, and he was never this angry. There was something more going on, and she was an actress and could understand the dramatics behind it. She wasn't as upset as she figured she should be, all in all.
But Blaine was all she had, and as long as he apologized and explained his actions, she already knew she was going to take him back.
She saw him, in the front row of the audience, but he didn't show up after the show to take her home. Sunday went the same-she could see him while she was on stage, but he never appeared, never whisked her away in a cloud of apologies and explanations. She spent all of Sunday night staring at her phone, hoping it would ring, or that she'd get a text, an email, a god damn facebook notification. Anything to let her know that he was thinking about her, because she couldn't stop thinking about him.
She dragged herself to school on Monday, deciding against staying home sick. She'd have to face reality sooner or later, face that Blaine didn't want her-because this is what she had become sure of now, that he didn't want her, that he hated her, that this was why he had struck her. He was going to break up with her, and she was going to be completely on her own.
"Hey," Blaine's voice came softly from behind her as she put her bag in her locker, and she just took a deep breath, trying to steady herself against the tears that threatened to fall once more. "Can we talk?"
She just turned to look at him, ready to tell him that if he was just going to break up with her to do it quickly, but she was stopped in her tracks with the bouquet of flowers in hand, a sad expression on his face. "I-what's going on?" she asked, gulping back the fresh round of tears that wanted to fall.
"I'm so, incredibly, deeply sorry Rachel," he said, and she could feel her heart breaking as he was near the edge of tears, his voice breaking as he tried to apologize. "What I did-it was out of line, and it was horrible, and I'm amazed you even want to look at me right now, and I know I don't deserve the right to even be near you right now, much less a second chance-"
"Blaine," she said, her voice just as sad as his own, reaching out a hand to touch his cheek automatically.
"No, it was despicable, and I know that. But if you're willing to try and move on from it with me, I promise to never do anything like that ever again," he said, and this time a tear really did fall from his eye, her lip being sucked inwardly from reflex as she wrapped herself around him, the impulse to comfort and hold him stronger than any impulse to run away could ever be.
"I love you," she said quietly, feeling him nod into her shoulder where he was now crying quietly. "I love you so much, and whatever's going on-Blaine, we can get through it together."
They slid together to the floor, Rachel comforting Blaine as the hallway emptied, the bell ringing. She didn't care about skipping class, couldn't bring herself to care about anything but the boy she loved breaking down right in front of her.
It was harder than she thought to get back to where they had been. Things were tense, and on more than one occasion she flinched when he reached out to hold her, the pain in his eyes when she did it killing her more than the reason why she did it.
She was writing off the slap as a one-time thing, something that only occurred because of stress and duress at finding Rachel with another guy, regardless of the fact that she wasn't the one initiating it. She trusted him, she did. And with the play over, she rarely saw Jesse, not even running into him in the halls. He hadn't said anything to her after their kiss, when Blaine dragged her away, but she hadn't been expecting much.
It was nearly two weeks after the incident before she rounded a corner and ran smack into Jesse, leaning against a wall and watching girls pass by in the hallway.
"Rachel!" he said, startled as she picked up her books, disgruntled and annoyed and briefly hoping that Blaine wasn't around.
"Hi," she replied tersely before getting ready to leave, not wanting to start anything unnecessary, but clearly Jesse wasn't going to let this opportunity pass as he started walking with her.
"I realized I never apologized for my actions," he said, and she just shrugged, staring straight ahead and focusing on getting away from him as quickly as she could. "And I really should have. I was a dick."
"You were," Rachel mumbled, and he laughed as he slung an arm around her, her body tensing automatically. When she glanced up she saw Blaine, standing at his locker a few feet away, and she hoped beyond hope he wouldn't think too much into her current position, even as she tried to slip out of Jesse's grasp. "I have to go," she said, moving away, and Jesse just kind of frowned at her.
"I really am sorry Rach," he said again. "You have a boyfriend, and I should have respected that. And I hope that maybe, we can figure out a way to be friends?"
She was focused on Blaine, how he was staring at them from his locker, science textbook half in hand and half in his locker, before shaking her head. "I just don't think it's a good idea right now," she finally told Jesse. "Sorry." She left him, running towards Blaine, only to have him slam his locker closed and leave the second she got there without a word, the urge to cry becoming almost overwhelming.
Blaine didn't speak about the moment in the hallway, though he wasn't as affectionate as he usually was when she met up with him at lunch later that day. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice quiet as she sat down next to him, hand on his knee as she tried to get him to focus on her. Kurt was busy in a conversation with Mercedes, too busy to notice their conversation.
"Fine," Blaine replied just as quietly, swirling a French fry in some ketchup. She continued staring at him for a moment, hoping he would at least look at her, but then Kurt turned to ask her about something for their French class and she let out a deep sigh before turning to answer him.
The next few days passed on much the same, with Blaine being short with her. It made her nervous, that the one small interaction with Jesse could throw them this far off course. She had tried to bring it up, to mention that Jesse had merely been apologizing and stepping aside, only for Blaine to retort with a sharp "Oh, so he has to step aside? Or, what, he'd steal you from me?"
Her explanation of "No one could steal me from you," went unheard as he stormed off, leaving her more upset and alone than before.
She tried turning to Kurt and Mercedes, but without a full explanation-which she couldn't give them, didn't want to get Blaine in trouble-they simply said he was in a bad mood and he'd get over it. Said maybe if she wasn't off flirting with other guys, Blaine would have no reason to be jealous and insecure. It didn't matter that she tried defending herself, saying she wasn't flirting with Jesse, wanted nothing to do with him, they were still convinced it was still her fault.
She was becoming convinced it was her fault.
"I have to talk to you," Blaine said as he came up behind her one afternoon.
"About?" she asked warily, and he just grasped her hand, pulling her away from her locker as soon as she shut it.
She followed him past the gym, out towards the bleachers, the vague recollection of their first kiss-almost a year ago exactly, she realized-flitting through her mind as they sat down on the cold metal. "I know that I've already apologized for the-" he waved his hand, and she nodded, not wanting to hear the words aloud any more than he wanted to say them. "But I wanted to apologize for it again, and-"
"You really don't have to," Rachel said quickly, leaning in towards him, their knees touching now. She allowed small things like this, but when he had tried to kiss her nearly a week ago she had pulled back, unable to go through with it, mumbling a quick apology about being stressed with school work. He hadn't believed her, but it was better than facing the truth-that being that close to him made her nervous, set off alarms in her head that she never had expected to hear.
"I do have to," he said now, pulling her once more to the present, and she gave him a hesitant smile to convey that she was listening, his hand covering hers. "I was-I was mad, Rachel, and I was upset and I was hurt. And seeing you and Jesse-" he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing. "It pissed me off on a level I didn't know I was capable of. And I lashed out in the worst way possible, and I can't begin to imagine why you'd take me back."
"Because I love you," Rachel said simply. "I mean, not that excuses anything, because it can't-I can't go through it again-but I love you Blaine. And I don't ever want to give up on you, on us."
He smiled at her, squeezing her hand. "I'm glad," he said quietly, leaning his head a little closer to hers until their foreheads were touching, and she took a deep breath, trying to remember that this was Blaine, that he was the love of her life, that he was the best thing to ever happen to her.
That he was safe.
"You can kiss me if you want," she finally said after a moment, knowing that the time had come-it was a now or never situation, and she didn't want 'never' to be the winning option. Blaine hesitated, but only momentarily, before closing the gap between them, kissing her softly, gently. It was like the kisses they'd share on lazy Sunday's, or when they were half asleep and she couldn't get enough of his mouth on hers, the taste of his lips and his tongue.
"Thank you," he whispered when they parted, and she just nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder as they looked at the abandoned football field.
"We'll get through this," she said quietly. "You just have to trust me."
And so they worked together to build up what they had nearly lost, Rachel breathing a little easier every time they were together, every time he touched her, kissed her, his breath trailing across her skin, followed by his tongue and his teeth. She had to become re-used to him, re-comfortable with him, but it was worth it. Blaine would always be worth it to her.
Kurt made a comment about how happy she seemed a couple weeks later, though she just replied with a casual shrug as Blaine wrapped his arm tighter around her, her smile becoming even larger in the process. This is why I didn't give up on him, she thought to herself, brushing a stray curl out of his face before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.
They went on dates again, and he'd hold her hand in the hallways, and it felt like it had when they were first dating. It was like they were truly starting over, rediscovering each other and re-learning to trust the other. Rachel didn't even care that Kurt was being bitter against her happiness, or that Mercedes was becoming more and more of a diva than even she was. Quinn and Finn's on again-off again relationship drama had nothing to do with her, and Santana and Brittany's fling was becoming more and more solid, but none of the gossip or drama mattered, not as long as she had Blaine and Blaine had her.
"My parents want you to come over for dinner," Blaine mumbled against her shoulder one afternoon when they were spread across her bed, half-dressed and their homework spread across the floor.
"Tonight?" she asked, and he nodded, half asleep as he lazily traced stars on her back. "And you're just telling me now?" she panicked, flying off the bed and ignoring his groan of neglect as she flew to her closet, trying to find something acceptable to wear.
"My parents love you Rachel," he reminded her as she slid into a respectable dress, zipping it up quickly while trying to figure out what to do with her hair.
"Even still," she said evenly, knowing he was right. His parents loved and adored her, his mom doting on her while his dad asked her how her ride to super stardom was going. They were well dressed, came from money, had sent Blaine to a private school for most of his life. He only transferred to McKinley when his dads job had been relocated, and decided the cost of rooming at Dalton outweighed the lack of an education he'd be getting at McKinley, Blaine saying his dad wanted him 'prepared for the real world'.
"Not that he would know," Blaine had scoffed the first time he shared the story with Rachel. "He went to private school all the way to Yale for both undergrad and graduate school. I'm pretty sure his mistress lives closer to Lima, so he can get away with it even though my mom already knows." Rachel had frowned, sitting herself in Blaine's lap and trying to distract him.
"But if they hadn't moved, you wouldn't have met me?" she said, her voice insecure as a grin broke back out on his features.
"That's something that would have been a true tragedy," he had whispered before kissing her, and she remembered that afternoon was the day they had both decided to go further than either had planned to, losing their virginities to each other on her bedroom floor as it started snowing outside.
But that was almost a year ago now, and while the marital problems between the elder Anderson's didn't concern her unless it concerned Blaine-she had grown to like the Anderson's nonetheless. They treated her kindly, and they gave her Blaine, and she had no other requests from them.
When they pulled up to Blaine's house a couple hours later, his moms car already in the driveway and his dads SUV in the garage, Blaine led her in through the kitchen, though she was more than used to the house by now.
"Rachel!" his mom called out, rushing over to wrap her in a hug. "We haven't seen you in forever, we were sure Blaine was keeping you away from us on purpose."
"It's great to see you Mrs. Anderson," Rachel responded with a small laugh. "Can I be of any assistance?"
Rachel set herself up in the kitchen, helping Mrs. Anderson and telling her about school when Blaine's father called him into the other room. He gave her a quick kiss on the side of the head before leaving her there, though she paid him no mind as she moved to help set the table for their dinner.
It was nearly 20 minutes before Blaine and his dad came out, Rachel becoming slightly nervous, though she had no idea why. When Mr. Anderson came back into the room, he looked different than normal, a look that Rachel had only seen once mirrored on his son, and immediately her stomach tightened in fear. "Um, sorry Rachel but I think we'll have to cancel dinner. You should probably just go home," he explained, Mrs. Anderson looking on in slightly confusion.
"Blaine drove me here," she replied quietly, not wanting to look in his eyes, hoping that she was overreacting, that what she feared had just happened hadn't really. The explanation for Blaine's behavior clearer than ever when she looked at his father.
"I can give you a ride," Mrs. Anderson offered, clearly catching on to what was going on, and Rachel shook her head, trying not to let a tear fall as she pushed past the two of them and ran up the stairs, two at a time, not even bothering to knock as she pushed herself into Blaine's room.
"Blaine?" she asked, biting her lip as she watched him pace back and forth, the rage she had seen that night in her basement flashing back in her mind. "Blaine, please, talk to me," she pleaded, and he just shook his head. She checked for anywhere she might see something, but knew it was pointless. She had seen Blaine's entire body countless times, had never seen a bruise, had never seen a slap mark. If this had happened before now, it hadn't been noticed by her, which made her feel even worse. "Blaine," she said again, moving towards him, but he pushed her away, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough for her to back away as he growled at her.
"Shut up Rachel," he said, and now she felt like she was back in the basement, like she was pleading her case against Jesse once more. She refused to let herself cry though, stood strong as she tried once more-she wasn't sure what her logic was, thinking only that maybe if she could just touch him, it'd snap him back to the present situation and not wherever he was inside his head.
"Blaine, what happened?" she asked, and her hand tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder, flinching when he shoved it away.
"Go away," he hissed, and she just stared at him helplessly. She knew it would be stupid to get into a car with him right now as it was, but she lived on the opposite side of town, didn't know anyone around his house who could even come pick her up.
"Blaine, you're my ride-" she tried, and he stomped over to her, backing her into a wall. She felt her eyes go wide in fear, trying to remain calm, trying to remember that this was still Blaine whose hands were clutching a little too tightly to her arms right now, Blaine who was staring at her with an absolute loathing.
It was Blaine, but it wasn't her Blaine.
"Please," she whimpered, sure that now a tear or two was falling, and that seemed to shake him of whatever spell he was under, his face relaxing momentarily as he watched her break apart.
"Oh my-shit, Rachel, shit I'm sorry," he said, his hands dropping from her arms and wrapping her up inside his own. She didn't know how to react, wasn't sure what was going on, just let the tears fall until she could barely tell you who she was, much less what Blaine was doing to her.
It was harder for Rachel to move on that time, for her to accept it. He might not have actually struck her, but it was there, bubbling under the surface, and she was starting to think that he was capable of doing it again. It just took the right amount of anger, something to tip him off, and he'd do it again.
She was a smart girl. She had heard about these things in health classes, about how it comes and goes in cycles, how he'd promise it would never happen again but then one day it would. She knew she was supposed to run away, abandon him, potentially even report him for what he had done.
But she wasn't going to do any of that. She had seen him at his worst and she still loved him, and more importantly she had seen him at his most vulnerable and seen how much he really needed someone. She didn't know what happened between him and his father, but she did know that she could handle being frightened every once in a while as long as it meant that Blaine had someone to love him unconditionally.
They didn't speak of the incident, instead content to pretend it had never happened. Rachel made a conscious effort not to flinch or appear frightened when he reached out to hold her, and he made a conscious effort to be the sweet, caring, compassionate boyfriend she had always been used to.
He didn't open up to her about what had happened, not that she had expected to after everything, despite how much she wanted him too. But on a level of self-preservation, she didn't push for it. She chose to be supportive and loving and hope beyond hope that it was enough to pull him out of whatever darkness was trying to take him away from her.
The fall semester ended, and they spent their winter break much the same way they had the previous one-going on dates to the ice skating rink, going to movies, spending their afternoons wrapped up in each other. They made gingerbread houses for his family Christmas party, he came over one night of Hannakuh, and it was almost like everything was normal once more. But Rachel wasn't going to play a fool twice, wasn't dumb enough to think that everything was normal. As long as she could keep him happy, she could keep their relationship stable and devoid of the anger and pain that Blaine tried to inflict upon it.
His parents never said a word about that night, and Rachel could see where Blaine learned the 'pretend-it-never-happened' way of life from quickly. His dad was as friendly as ever to her, his mother just as warm, and it unnerved her to think that this was how Blaine had grown up, where things were kept hidden and quiet. She was used to having frank discussions with her fathers, getting things out in the open and taken care of quickly so they could move on. Watching the Anderson's pretend their lives were perfect was almost painful for her, painful to keep quiet when all she wanted to do was scream at them to admit there was so much wrong with them.
She was becoming just as fake as they were, pasting on her most charming smile and playing the role of the good girlfriend who was completely oblivious to their dark sides.
She was starting to understand why Brittany said it was too much work to date Santana when she wasn't true to herself.
"How are you in a senior level class?" Jesse asked as soon as she walked through the door to her new fiction writing class on their first day back at school.
"I had to fight for a spot in it, but there's play writing and I figure understanding the process of writing musicals and plays will help me as an actress," she explained quickly, trying to find a spot far away from him. Unfortunately he didn't seem to notice this, moving his own seat next to hers, and she briefly debated texting Blaine to warn him before he found out of some other way.
"Only you Rachel Berry," he chuckled, settling in. "Are you trying out for the spring play?"
She had been thinking about it, but with all the effort of pretending things were okay with Blaine-and they had been going relatively well lately, it had been nearly a month since the incident-she had ultimately decided she couldn't take the added stress.
The fact that Jesse was more than likely going to snab the leading male role again was certainly a contributing factor.
"I don't think so," she said with a slight frown. "I have a lot more coursework than normal this semester, and I'm trying to focus on that and my relationship-"
"You've been dating Blaine for, what, a year now? How much focus does he need?" Jesse scoffed, and she just rolled her eyes.
"Have you ever been in a relationship that lasted longer than a week?" She retorted, only feeling slightly bad at the frown on his face now. "It's just, things aren't as smooth for us as they used to be, and I'd like to get back to where we were before-"
"Before I came along," Jesse interrupted with a smirk.
"Before a lot of things," she said quietly. He looked like he was going to question her further on it, but the teacher walked in as the bell rang, and he snapped his mouth shut as she opened her notebook, her thoughts as far from play writing as could be.
She was nervous about meeting up with Blaine and telling him about the class she shared with Jesse, hoping he'd understand this was something out of her control. He had been seeming more reasonably calm lately, but whether that was her nearly constant presence or if things were actually going to be okay from here on out, she wasn't sure.
She kissed his cheek when she met up with him at his locker before lunch, and he smiled as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. "I know we've only been apart for like, three hours," he said quietly, kissing the top of her head, "but I've missed you." She felt a blush crawl over her face, always did when he showed affection like that.
"I missed you too," she said quietly, and he turned to close his locker before they walked towards the cafeteria.
"How's your new class? The fiction writing class?" he asked, his tone pleasant enough.
"It's okay," she responded, her nerves frayed once more. "I think it'll help me understand song writing a little better too."
"That's awesome Rach," he said, squeezing her hip a little where his hand was rested on it.
"Jesse's in my class," she blurted out, and he stopped in his tracks in the middle of the hallway. She stopped with him, taking both his hands in hers, looking at him earnestly while he breathed slowly, clearly trying to regain composure. "I just thought you should hear it from me."
"Can you get a different class?" Blaine asked, his voice tense, and Rachel shook her head.
"It's only offered once every couple of years, and there's only one teacher for it. It's this or I may never get a chance to take it," she explained quietly. She watched as he attempted to stay calm, worried what this would mean that he took the news that they shared a class this badly.
"Do you really need this class?" he finally questioned, and now she felt a flare up of annoyance, of anger.
"I'm already skipping out on the spring play so I don't have to be around him," she hissed, her eyes narrowed as he looked at her for the first time since the conversation had started. "I'm not skipping this class just because you don't like him. You're going to have to trust me Blaine. You know I love you and that nothing would ever happen between Jesse and I."
His hand tightened in her own, and she felt nervous, but knew they were in a public setting, Blaine would never do anything where they would be found, where he could be caught. He wasn't stupid, much as his jealous of Jesse was.
"I don't like this Rachel," he finally said when he gained control of himself, and she nodded.
"I didn't think you would," she told him. "But I thought it was better to tell you than to try and hide it from you."
"It's much better this way," he agreed. He forced a smile on his face, not like the one that was easy and carefree and that she could trust, strained and almost terrifying in a way as he started moving them down the hallway again. "We'll work around it."
Despite Rachel's best efforts to block Jesse out, he continued to sit next to her every day, asking why she wasn't trying out for the spring play, asking why she was letting Blaine hold her back from something she clearly wanted to do.
She used Regional's as an excuse at first, but he merely scoffed, saying that singing was like breathing to her, and she didn't need any extra practice. While she knew he was right, she still wasn't about to risk everything she had with Blaine for it. She knew the play vaguely, another one where the leads were romantically involved, another one where she'd have to kiss Jesse on more than one occasion, and she didn't think her or Blaine could handle that for too long before he snapped.
Two weeks into the class, they were assigned partners for a semester long project of writing their own play-the whole reason she had taken the class in the first place.
She supposed she should have been surprised when she got paired with Jesse, but by this point she had given up on being surprised by anything.
And when she told Blaine later that night when they were busy studying for their chemistry test the next day, she was less surprised than she should have been at the bruises his hands left on her hips from how tight he had gripped her, almost claiming her as his own while their homework lay forgotten, a new hickey on the side of her neck and one located inside her thigh, just high enough to be covered by a skirt.
She supposed it could have been far worse.
At least pleasure came from those bruises.
"No Blaine here to babysit?" Jesse smirked as Rachel led him up to her bedroom where they would work on their project. She figured the sooner they finished, the less time she'd have to spend with him.
"Blaine's got his own stuff to do," she replied dully, but Jesse just laughed as they stepped into her room, setting his bag down on the floor. "Have you thought of any ideas for our screenplay?"
He shrugged, plopping himself down on her bed, looking entirely too at ease for her comfort. Still, she sat down next to him, fidgeting a bit in her jeans she rarely wore but deemed necessary for the evening. "I was thinking maybe we could come up with something really original, maybe they'll even get to perform it next year."
"You won't be here next year," she reminded him, and he shrugged.
"I'd come back to see you in it," he grinned, and she just let out a low sigh, looking at the clock across the room. "Whoa," Jesse said, sitting up and moving closer to her as she snapped her head back in his direction.
"What?" she asked, apprehensive as he lifted her hair and took in the hickey located there-it was much larger than she would have ever allowed, but it was a better alternative than what Blaine could have done.
"That thing is a monster," he let out a low whistle. "Guess Blaine doesn't want me forgetting you're taken, huh?"
"It wasn't-"
"He was marking you, Rachel, because he's worried about me. I've seen it happen tons of times before."
"Because girls just can't keep their pants on around you?" she retorted snarkily, and he showed off an easy grin.
"I wasn't the one to say it," he joked, and she just grabbed her notebook.
"Can we please focus? I have other things I have to get done tonight too," she said, trying to direct him back to the topic at hand. He nodded, grabbing his own notebook and settling in to discuss ideas for their play.
Blaine showed up a couple of hours later, Jesse and Rachel now spread out on her bed as they read over their notes they had come up with. It was hard, collaborating with someone else on original writing, but Rachel had actually found herself enjoying the time spent with Jesse. She could relax and laugh and as long as he wasn't too touchy, she wasn't too nervous.
But with the sudden appearance of Blaine in her doorway, of the glint in his eyes she definitely did not like, she was reminded why she had tried so hard to push Jesse out of her life. "I think you should go," she told Jesse quietly, and while he looked a little apprehensive, Blaine's seething against the wall where he watched them, he didn't argue as he gathered his stuff to go.
"I'll see you tomorrow Rach," Jesse said with a small wave, not even bothering to say anything to Blaine as he walked out of the room.
They sat in silence until they heard the front door close and Jesse's car drive away. "You were practically on top of him," Blaine hissed, and Rachel shook her head, sitting up and ready to shoot into a full explanation of what happened-they had been sitting, but realized writing in two separate notebooks was pointless if they were writing the same thing before settling in to share the one as ideas bounced back and forth-but he was across the room, his fist in her side before she could even react.
She sat there in a stunned silence for a minute, could feel the throbbing pain that was now accompanying, could see Blaine's expression-no longer startled, no longer shocked with what he had done, and she knew it was too late.
She knew they were both in this too far for it to stop on its own.
She couldn't even focus on the pain where his fist had collided with her ribs, because the pain that her Blaine had done something so harsh to her overshadowed everything else.
She tried not telling Blaine when Jesse would be over, but quickly learned that backfired even more than telling him. Blaine would show up regardless, and Jesse would leave, and Rachel would be left with a new bruise to deal with. It wasn't every day, she knew, wasn't even every other day. Once a week, twice if it was a bad week for him.
She knew it had something to do with his father, knew that whenever his father upset him badly enough he lashed out at her. And when she was fighting off her own tears, trying to ignore the stinging pain in her back from being shoved against a wall harder than she was used too, cradling her side from his fists-and he was getting better at punching, it was more effective and painful the more he did it-still she tried to ask him 'why'.
He never answered her.
It was like this dark entity took over him when he turned into this, a monster destroying everything he loved because of something he couldn't share. He wasn't laughing and happy and giving her soft kisses like they did in school, where Blaine was still his normal self. He was throwing her around, pushing her against things, forcing her into bed even when she told him she didn't want to have sex, squeezing the areas on her skin marred with bruises just to cause her even more pain.
She had no way of getting out without hurting both of them even more.
"Are you okay Rachel?" Kurt asked one day at lunch, noting the circles under her eyes-she hadn't been sleeping well, her dreams turning into nightmares of Blaine coming at her from nowhere, never gaining peace even in her subconscious.
"Fine," she squeaked out, and Blaine shot her a sideways glance, as if testing her to see what she'd say. Not that she could have told Kurt what was going on anyways, he'd never believe her. No one would believe her.
Blaine had finally broken down and told her one night what was happening with his family. How he had confronted his dad on being an adulterous man whore, how his father had reached out and struck him, how he felt completely out of control. How any time his father got angry with him, that was his default answer now-to strike Blaine, to bring him pain. She sat quietly, knowing the feeling of hopelessness that came with being the abused all too well. "I said I could call child protective services on him," Blaine had said with a strangled laugh. "He said no one would believe me. He was too important, had too nice of a job-people from upper middle class don't hit their kids, their kids are lying attention whores. I reminded him even the most well-dressed and well-bred people can be bad too."
Rachel bit back the 'I know' that threatened to fall from her mouth, unsure of how to respond to his pain. One of the reasons she had stayed with him in the first place, so he wouldn't have to go through with this alone, and now she was on the other side of things.
Facing all this on her own.
Kurt and Mercedes were too wrapped up in their own world to even notice that she hadn't begged for the solo at Regional's, pleased to stand off to the side as Quinn and Sam-a new kid who Rachel had barely talked too-led them to a phenomenal win. It had been a good night for them, Blaine treating her softly, holding her gently like he had used to do all the time, back when it was normal and not a rarity. She had relished in the simple pleasure of having a sweet boyfriend again that she could almost trick herself into believing things were going to start changing, but by the end of the week she saw once more how wrong she was.
When Jesse had jokingly suggest she and Blaine sing 'Love The Way You Lie' at National's based on all the hickey's she always seemed to be covered in, she had blanched white and gave off a feeble chuckle, causing him to look at her strangely. She had spent minimal time with her, and yet he was the only one who seemed to notice something big was going on, that she was falling apart with no way to fix herself. She hated this, on so many levels, because she was Rachel Berry-she was independent and strong and could take care of herself.
But she was rapidly becoming more and more destroyed, and she was coming to the realization that she wasn't able to fix herself anymore.
Usually after Blaine snapped, hurting her in the worst way possible, he'd become sweet once more. How long the sweet phase lasted for varied, and it went from anywhere between holding her and whispering comforting things to her while she sobbed to buying her extravagant presents. They had gone to Chicago one weekend over spring break just to see an off-Broadway production of Wicked, Blaine being the boy she had first fallen in love with the entire time. She knew these weren't the things she should be staying for, knew in the back of her mind that this wasn't a good relationship, but he'd look at her and smile or kiss the top of her head and regardless of how much abuse she had taken, of how many bruises littered her skin or how many times he had pressured her into having sex when she didn't want to, she knew she wasn't going to leave.
He had her right where he wanted her, completely under his control, and there wasn't any way she could see out of it.
She had taken to writing songs and poems to let go of some of the pain and emotions she was feeling that she had no one to let out on. She couldn't very well tell anyone, not without losing Blaine permanently. And having Blaine, even at his worst, was better than not having him at all.
She didn't even think about the notebook other than when she was writing in it until one afternoon when Jesse found it laying under her bed. "Is this notes for our play?" he asked, picking it up and examining the cover before she managed to snatch it away.
"It's personal," she snapped, and he raised an eyebrow but didn't press for more information, used to her temper enough by now.
They had been spending a lot of time together, a direct correlation to the anger Blaine unleashed on Rachel, she knew. But they were perfecting their script, determined to win the contest their teacher had presented to them a few weeks ago. Not that Rachel necessarily wanted the prize-a gift certificate for two to Breadstix, but it was a competition and Jesse brought out the competitive side in Rachel that had become buried under everything else.
She never voiced these things to Blaine, how it was becoming easier to spend time with Jesse than it was to spend time with him, because it would only make things worse. Blaine had confided in her, late one night when her dads' were out of town and he was staying over, that he hated to see Jesse make her laugh. That he missed being the reason why she laughed.
She didn't point out that he could still be the one to do so, didn't point out that this was his doing, instead snuggling closer and deeper in the warmth of all the blankets protecting them. For a few minutes, she allowed herself to feel safe as he sang to her quietly, some song she couldn't quite place in her half-conscious state, knowing in the morning she'd wake with a fresh bruise already growing on her right shoulder, but for now she'd take the moment as it was.
"I can barely tell if you're dating Jesse or Blaine nowadays," Kurt joked one day as they walked down the hallway together, Blaine's grip tightening uncomfortably on her waist as she gave out a forced laugh.
"Jesse and I are just working on a script together," she said, trying to keep her voice as chipper as possible.
"I don't know, I'd watch out if I were you Blaine," Kurt teased, and Rachel could only hope Kurt was telepathically receiving her message of shut up, shut up, shut up, stop it Kurt, you're going to make it worse, "I heard Jesse St. James usually doesn't stop until he gets what he wants, and he clearly wants Rachel."
"He won't get Rachel," she responded tartly, and Kurt raised an eyebrow but didn't speak anymore as he headed down a separate hallway for his own class, Blaine's hand leading her away from her own.
She knew what was coming, knew she should run to her own class, for safety, but she still hoped every time that maybe he wouldn't do it, maybe he'd think of what he was doing to her, but it didn't seem to cross his mind as he led her to the deserted arts corridor, leading her into the choir room.
"Blaine, please," she said quietly, closing her eyes when she saw the darkness in his own, not wanting to witness it more than ever. "Not in here, Blaine, this is my happy place, please," she begged, and she could feel the tears welling in her eyes already.
"You know what used to be my happy place?" he snarled, and she could feel him circling her, making her feel even smaller, more vulnerable, having no idea from which angle he would strike. "Anywhere with you. And then your sweet, wonderful prince Jesse came along," his voice was high pitched, mocking her even though the words had never fallen from her mouth, never would even if she sometimes did wonder if Jesse could possibly save her from this.
"Please, Blaine, it's not like that at all-" she tried, before he clasped his hand over her mouth, effectively shutting her up, her pleas and reasons she tried to say every time he got like this.
"You don't think I can't see it Rach? How you look at him? Maybe nothing's happened yet, but that doesn't mean you don't want it too," Blaine hissed. She couldn't deny it even if she wanted too, not with his hand tightly covering her mouth so she could barely breathe. She tried shaking her head, but he just laughed, cold and empty at her attempts. "He's not going to save you Rachel. No one can save you. Who would believe that the kind, sweet, loving boyfriend of a year and a half would be doing this to you? No one. They'd say you made those bruises. You're doing it for attention. I can play innocent better than you can Rachel, play the broken hearted boyfriend who had no idea his girlfriend was in such a dark place."
"You don't have to do this Blaine, I know you're upset and jealous and I know your dad does this, but we can-" she gasped in surprise as his fist collided with her thigh, grimacing in pain. "Blaine we can fix this, we can fix you and we can fix me and we can fix us, please just stop," she continued on. "It doesn't have to be this way Blaine, it doesn't, I'm sorry that your dad is a prick and he's been doing this your whole life and-"
"I told you not to mention my father," Blaine sneered, fist connecting with one of her ribs now, and she teetered on her side, trying to stay strong, trying to convince him that there was another option, a better choice.
"Blaine," she whimpered as he struck her once more, now going above and beyond on so many levels. One or two she was used to, in the privacy of one of their homes. But at school, in the middle of the day, three times-it was new, and it was scary, and it was in her choir room and it was like he was seriously trying to ruin every possible thing that made her happy.
"Excuse me," an all too familiar voice called out, and Rachel straightened up, closing her eyes, hoping if she wished hard enough Jesse would just leave.
"Please leave," she whispered, her voice strained, Blaine now standing in front of her to block her from Jesse's sight.
"Rachel, what's going on?"
"She said to leave," Blaine said, his voice eerily calm for the current situation.
"And I don't think I said Blaine anywhere in my question," Jesse argued back. "Rachel, tell me what's going on."
"Nothing," Rachel said, trying to sound airy and light as she looked at him over Blaine's shoulder. "We're just talking."
"You're crying," Jesse stated, and she cursed her tear ducts for not stopping when she told them too.
"We were in an argument," Blaine covered for them. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to talk to my girlfriend."
"Rachel wouldn't cry because of an argument," Jesse retorted, his focus now on Blaine. "She's too strong for that. Unless you told her she was untalented and never going to make it out of Ohio, and then I may have to kick your ass on principal."
"Jesse, please," she pleaded, hoping he would just shut up and walk away before Blaine did something stupid.
"No, Rachel, something is seriously wrong here, and I'm not leaving until I find out what it is."
"It's nothing, Jesse, please," she begged, Blaine crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at Jesse.
"So Blaine isn't hitting you then?" Jesse said, his tone so nonchalant she nearly fell over.
"What-" Both Blaine and Rachel said simultaneously, Blaine's voice laced with anger as Rachel's was covered with shock.
"The notebook in your room? When you went to get snacks one day, I grabbed it. It was wrong, but you were a little too defensive about it. I assumed maybe you wrote about how you really felt about me in there, I didn't think-anyways. Your poems and songs are a little too telling, Rach, you haven't mastered subtlety yet. And over the past couple weeks I've been watching, how you flinch anytime someone comes too close to you, how you're constantly looking broken down." He moved closer to her now, not even bothering to pretend to be frightened of Blaine as Blaine's fists clenched. "Rachel, you don't deserve this. You deserve so much better."
"And you're going to give it to her?" Blaine snapped, and Jesse sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Even if she didn't come to me, Blaine, I still wouldn't want her dating you. For fucks sake, I'd rather have her dating Hudson at this point."
"Jesse, you can't tell-"
"Why not? Rachel, you have to end this. He's not going to stop. And sure, now it's a few punches here and there. But it'll escalate. You're so smart, Rachel, why are you still with him?"
"Because I love him," she answered simply, Blaine looking smug at her answer.
"Love isn't always the best reason Rachel," Jesse said quietly. She just shook her head, burrowing herself in Blaine's shoulder to shield herself from Jesse, not wanting to face the words he was saying.
"I love him," she repeated, mumbling into Blaine's shirt. She could hear Jesse sigh, and after a moment she was sure he walked out of the room, Blaine still standing away from her as she let the tears fall once more.
"He's going to tell," Blaine said quietly, and she just nodded her head.
"More than likely," she responded.
"Why did you have to write it down?" Blaine's voice was strained, and she glanced up, though she could only see the back of his head, his neck, but she knew without question that he was panicking.
"I didn't have anyone to turn too," she answered. "I didn't think-I didn't think he'd ever look through it."
"And now you've ruined everything," he said, walking away from her without another word, leaving her to crumple on the floor of the choir room crying.
It was the last she ever even saw of him.