A/N: Okay, so I guess this is now officially AU. I'll pick and choose elements from the last few episodes I like though. Primarily? The song used is My Man from Funny Girl. Special thanks to Kenz for the beta and general encouragement. You're freakin' amazing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own vicious wit. But especially not Glee, its characters, or the music used within. I'm just playing in someone else's sandbox and no real infringement is intended.


Chapter 3 – I'll Keep Your Secrets

Well, she's stopped writing in that stupid notebook. He sighs and smacks his head against the rear wall of the choir room, leaning back in his chair and clinging to the messenger bag in his lap. If only there were something in there he could throw

Finn shoots him a dumbfounded, disbelieving look. Schue asks them to go ahead and move to the auditorium with their new "coach" and the rest of the club gets up slowly and moves, even though they are all questioning each other with their eyes.

How is this possibly a good idea?

Well, Kurt has a far more pressing matter on his mind. And, judging by the look they just exchanged, so does Finn. Kurt assumes this is the same pressing matter and is in the form of the small brunette who happened to drop her folder and scatter loose paper everywhere as she stood up. Kurt just gives Finn a small nod to let him know the pressing matter will be handled and Finn hustles out of the room so Kurt can do it in privacy. He knows Finn called to check on Rachel because he supplied the phone that made it possible. He also knows Rachel didn't answer, and what he doesn't know is if she didn't answer thinking it was Finn or thinking it was him. She's been kind of off the grid for most of the last week. It's been five full days since prom and she hasn't talked to anyone as far as he can tell. Not just about the incident between her and Quinn (which he thinks only the five of them know about), but about anything. Just to be on the safe side, Kurt thinks he should talk to her instead his stepbrother trying to talk to her.

It wouldn't be quite so disturbing and he would let her retreat if he thought she was actually doing it alone. But she's not. There's no way. He knows she's been hanging out with Jesse, and it prompts him to ask the question more harshly than he intends as he stoops down to help her pick up the stack of paper.

"What in the hell are you doing?" He hisses.

She looks over at him with shock. There's no more than a vaguely purple shadow on her cheek now, and he thinks he might only be seeing it because he knows it used to be there. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you dating Jesse again? Please tell me no, please tell me no," he chants under his breath after he issues the question.

She's looking at him out of the corner of her eye and he doesn't miss the grim set of her mouth, either. "Not exactly."

"Well, it isn't a no but it has some breathing room," he admits. He hands her the stack of paper he's been tidying up and as she reaches out to take it, he looks down at it and sees what it—they—are. They are fliers advertising Jesse St. James' services as a show-choir consultant.

"He's just asked for my help. That's all."

"He's asked for your help with what, exactly?" Kurt says. "Meeting in the parking lot? Learning when to duck to avoid flying dairy products?"

He can see her swallow hard and he almost feels bad for reminding her. Not thatbadly because obviously someone needs to remind her, but still.

"No. He's restructuring his life and I think it's admirable. Of course I agreed to help."

Kurt sighs and looks at her, even as she breaks eye contact to put the folder she was holding in her bag. The only time she actually carries a book bag of any sort is when she is arriving or leaving for the day. It used to be the bag on wheels, but she's pared it down to a backpack and she barely even carries that. Either way, it looks like she's heading out. "Where are you going?"

"I'm working on something extremely difficult in my voice lessons, so my teacher and Mr. Schuester agreed to allow some extra time."

His eyes widen. "What about Nationals?"

She looks at him warily and she purses her lips a little. "I…I…" she closes her eyes and begs on a sigh. "Please don't get angry."

"The song is for Nationals?" He demands. "You're already the soloist and they didn't let anyone else know?"

She shrugs awkwardly then needs to adjust her backpack. She clings to the strap with both hands. "Well…as you know, my vocal coach went here with Mr. Schuester. They were even in Glee together when she was a sophomore and he was a senior. She approached him without my interference—or really without my knowledge even. Jesse came to my lesson this past Tuesday and agreed outright and…and…"

"Well, of course you're taking it," Kurt says. He wants to keep the bitterness out of his tone; he really does. He just finds it impossible.

She levels a look at him. "Well, yes. However, I also happen to know what Jesse is planning to suggest as a performance strategy and…and I know Mr. Schuester is fighting him on it already. I think there will be more than one soloist."

"What song are you singing?" He asks. She begins moving her feet and he responds in kind before her voice drifts over to him.

"I'm not supposed to say."

He arches and eyebrow and folds his arms. "Is that part of Jesse St. Suckface's strategy?"

She rounds on him and he stops, both of them standing strong and keeping their eyes locked on each other. "I will never understand your guys' preoccupation with changing his last name. And no; I'm not supposed to say because…" her gaze falls a little and her breathing is slower than normal—more forced.

"Because…" he prompts impatiently.

"I'm not sure I can do it, okay? It's a really demanding song and if I have to change I would rather not be ridiculed for being useless. I feel useless all the time these days and so I'm taking control of this one thing."

"Well, Rachel, you know it kills me to admit it because you and I sometimes butt heads or whatever," he glances at her as he reaches up to tug at his hair. He's never going to get used to this haircut and not needing to keep the long bangs off his forehead. "But if there's one thing you have under control, it's your singing. You know that."

She gives him a bland little smile. He never thought he would actually wish to see her teeth, but he wishes he would see her teeth, just once. Okay, well, he's willing to qualify that said incisors need to be part of a blinding, genuine smile. Is that so much to ask?

"You're missing rehearsal," she says simply. When they stopped, it was right next to the auditorium doors and they can hear Mercedes' voice through the wooden panels as they stand there, clearly signifying the rehearsal has begun without him.

"Well, I don't think rehearsal is missing me," he clarifies. "Besides, I don't need the practice as much as I need you to answer my damn question."

She rolls her eyes. "What question?"

"Are you dating Jesse St. James?"

She shakes her head and he doesn't miss the dip in her gaze. Her next words practically shock him. "No. I'm not dating Jesse or anyone. Maybe ever again."

"Rachel…"

"Look, you don't know what it's like, okay? You just… you can't understand and I hope you never do."

"I'm trying to understand; I really am. I want to. And I think you need a friend to help you sort it all out."

She shoots him a withering glance. "I definitely do not have time to get into this now. I'm going to be late for my lesson, and that would be terribly rude considering my teacher rearranged most of her schedule to help me prepare this song."

Kurt just nods and retrieves his car keys from the side pocket on his bag. "Okay. I'll drive and you talk."

"You have rehearsal."

"Jesse is not going to teach me anything new."

"Your attitude is terrible," she says simply.

"Well, he can't have anything of value to teach me if I refuse to learn from him. That isn't a matter of attitude, it's just a fact." They both start walking slowly toward the doors midway down the hall that will lead to the parking lot.

"It's really better for the team if you go to rehearsal," she argues half-heartedly. She's already falling into agonizingly slow steps beside him, though, so she seems kind of resigned that he isn't going to give up easily. Does he ever?

"It's really better for our star performer if her friend lends a critical ear to the song she's preparing in secret," he bounces back. She shakes her head, pressing her eyes closed as she issues a short, breathy gasp of a laugh. She doesn't issue a retort immediately, though, instead reaching out to push the doors open.

"Who says you're invited?"

"When did I ask?" He redirects almost immediately. He looks down to find the 'unlock' button on his key chain and is unsurprised when the car chirps from the front row of the student parking lot.

"Princess parking?" She looks over at him questioningly. "How did you earn that?"

"Well… Dave and I came to an understanding and since he arrives early for baseball practice, we found it only appropriate that he move his car at lunch and allow me premium parking."

She presses a hand to her mouth to repress her giggle. "Well, then I grant you permission to drive me to my lessons whenever you choose."

They have an ongoing joke where they both feel equally capable of being the 'gentleman' in any given scenario and the arrangement calls for spontaneous games of Rock, Paper, Scissors whenever some sort of chivalry is implied. So he's not particularly surprised when she drops her hand from her mouth and plants it in a firm fist against her upturned palm. He returns the gesture and they end with her forming paper and him forming a rock, respectively, so he moves to the passenger side to open her door before taking both of their bags to the back of the truck. He continues onto the driver's side and finds her already buckled in and watching him.

"That game was more fun for me when you always picked rock," he comments as he checks his rearview mirror. He flicks his head over his shoulder to watch continuously as he back out.

"Well, when I picked rock I kept losing. I believe they call that adaptation; it's just another thing I excel at."

"Not really, Rachel," he says. They're safely stopped and waiting to turn out of the school parking lot onto Titan Lane, also known as Main Street save the mile stretch near the high school, so he sends her a withering look. "You're barely surviving let alone adapting and quite frankly, I'm concerned about you."

"Why?" She asks. She folds her arms against her chest and turns in the seat to look at him. "I'm quite fine, thank you."

"Do you even carry your cell phone anymore? Because no one who has called within the last week has gotten through."

She looks down and he thinks he knows what that means; it means he isn't allowed to get through because she suspects he's allowing Finn to use his phone.

"So, why are you avoiding my stepbrother?"

She scoffs and turns back into her seat as he navigates the car out onto the road. He picks up some speed before she finally answers.

"I'm not avoiding him. I'm just…just…" she stumbles and he looks over in time to see her throat move when she swallows hard. "It's just better for everyone involved if I keep my distance from him. He's under a lot of pressure right now and I don't really care to make it any worse."

"He's only under pressure he's put on himself," Kurt clarifies. "And at least half that pressure is that he's so concerned over your behavior."

"Well, he doesn't get to be concerned over my behavior. That was exactly my point to him last week and plainly he is still not listening."

"He heard you," he says simply. He's feeling his frustration rise and that is going to lead to an unproductive conversation for sure. "He just doesn't know what to do with the fact that he's still concerned anyway. You don't want his concern, he doesn't want to be concerned and yet he is."

The look she sends him pleads louder than his words. "Please don't get involved. It's better this way."

"It is most definitely not better this way," he says. He remembers coming with her to a vocal lesson one time after he was at Dalton and he drives right to the lady's house without thought. He pulls up as he makes his firm declaration and he rolls his eye as the car settles to a stop. "But we'll have to finish this conversation later."

She doesn't really even look at him as they go inside and it's not like he can blame her. He knows if roles were reversed, if things weren't just swimming along with himself and Blaine, he probably wouldn't be speaking with her at this point and after this much hard pushing.

She coaxes him into joining her for warm-ups and they sing a song from Wicked together just for fun and once it's over and she's musically said she's better for knowing him, she seems more relaxed and like she might actually open up. So he sits down on the unoccupied piano bench in the corner. Her teacher is kneeling on a chair across from her and Rachel is rather weirdly turned away from the floor-to-ceiling mirror with a small iHome at her feet.

"Okay, Rachel, I think we'll just go all the way through once. You practiced the notes I gave you yesterday, right?"

Rachel nods and she turns her hands in knots at her waist and he wonders what is coming next because he isn't sure he's ever seen her look nervous, regardless of the emotional level she was about to sing at. He thinks immediately that it must somehow be related to his stepbrother and he is more determined than ever to get his friend to open up so she can just sort something out. It's pretty obvious she's blocking a lot off these days. He should've known a song was going to be the key.

And his breath catches in his throat as soon as she starts to sing, already clutching at her stomach even as she starts off softly.

Oh, my man I love him so; he'll never know. All my life is just despair but I don't care. When he takes me in his arm, the world is bright all right.

She's watching her teacher uncertainly. Joan nods and just says "Keep it small for now, good…"

What's the difference if I say I'll go 'way? When I know I'll come back on my knees someday? For whatever my man is, I am his forever more…

"Now open it up, but not all the way," Joan says as Rachel holds the note out. Her eyes are already closed and he knows it's in direct contrast to his own wide-eyed facial expression. She hasn't been withholding, but she's been saving and pouring it all into this song. He wonders if one song is really enough to contain that kind of emotion.

Oh my man, I love him so. He'll never know.

Her tone has widened out into a more open sound against the almost big-band feel of the music pouring from the tiny radio speakers.

All my life is just despair but I don't care when he takes me in his arms… the world is bright all right…

He sees tears dripping down her cheeks and she's actually clutching her shirt in her hands. He can't tell if it's the result of some sort of restraint or if she needs to hold onto something real to keep from getting lost in the melancholy. He knows that's all songwriting is for her—something to hold onto so she doesn't get lost. He's not sure he's ever been more worried for her.

What's the difference if I say I'll go away when I know I'll come back on my knees someday…

She breaks into the rapid words, her pitch faltering slightly as she struggles for a quick breath after her last powerful note, trying to maintain the volume and determination in her words.

Joan isn't nodding anymore and he knows there are notes about pitch and force coming. If she can't transition—well, it just doesn't matter. The emotion is rolling out of her and he knows she's meaning every single word she sings. How much has it cost her to prepare this song? She's a skilled vocalist, so the actual notes and words and rhythm come easily. The few that she's missed (and honestly, he wouldn't even notice if he weren't as well-trained and well-practiced as he is) barely register when it comes to that kind of undeniable power.

The rest of it? Well, she's getting the emotion of the song because he knows for certain now she's singing with a broken heart. It's the first real glimmer of hope that she still loves Finn, but… there's still something off about it. His mind is working overtime trying to figure it out. What is she holding back?

For whatever my man is, I am his… forever … more….

Her volume drops off considerably until she opens up for the last notes and finally releases her shirt to swing her arms out wide. He sighs. She's totally messed up. But in all likelihood, she'll be fine because she has this as an outlet. She doesn't need his counsel. And she most definitely doesn't need his brother.

But he's pretty sure she wants at least the last one, if not both.

Joan gives her some notes, they joke around for a minute, and eventually she drags him into singing along with her even though he can admit his voice does not belt quite the same way the song requires. It's perfect for her. And it may be the solo that wins them Nationals.

He throws an arm around her when they leave Joan's house as they cross the yard in the dimming light. She looks exhausted and he knows she has a post-Glee, post-vocal lesson meeting with a cool, dark room, a humidifier, and a cup of tea. She needs it to recharge. She used to invite him sometimes, when she knew he had finished rehearsal with the Warblers; she always claimed the 'unnatural noises' they made as part of acapella would ruin his voice otherwise. Now she says nothing.

"You're still in love with my brother, Rachel. I'm not blind."

She leans into his side as he retrieves the key fob for his Navigator from his pocket and clicks the button twice before he leans forward to open her door. She climbs in and he just watches and she looks at him.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?" She begs. "I'm not…I don't think I want to do anything about it just yet."

And he nods. Because what else can he really do? He's her friend now. He might be worried, but there's no way actually telling anyone she said that will make anything better. It's pretty clear she's focusing on music right now which means she's focused on one thing only: her future. And he can't argue with that, even out of friendly concern.

"Okay, but Rachel?"

"Yes?" She says. She's keeping her voice low on purpose, something else he knows she does after her vocal lessons as a matter of routine.

"You should sing that song at Nationals. We'll win if you do. It sounds fantastic—even if I officially hate you for getting another solo." He reaches out a hand to squeeze her arm affectionately before he closes the door.

If there's one other thing he knows to be true about Rachel Berry? If she captains a championship show choir, especially if she leads them to a National championship, she has a lot of other options. Beyond Jesse. Beyond Finn. Beyond this whole town. And beyond even his wildest imagination—which is saying a lot because if there's one thing about the imagination they share? It's pretty vast and capable of almost anything.