Handprint On My Heart
Chapter 4: No One Is Alone
December 2011-March 2012
She'd already been scheduled for a follow-up visit with the specialist a week after sectionals. That saves them both a lot of time. Otherwise, he suspects she would have tried to wiggle out of going - despite all assurances to the contrary be damned - and he damn well would have dragged her in under protest.
One step forward, two steps back. The routine bloodwork shows some abnormal cells floating around in her system. She's in molecular relapse, and clinical symptoms can't be far behind. Maybe it will happen next week. Maybe not for a year. But it's inevitable.
He catches Leroy throwing Rachel sideways glances during the meeting in Dr. Maxwell's office. In any other situation, it would be amusing to watch her peppering the man with questions. Maxwell explains the dilemma they now face. Do they make her life miserable to fix something that essentially isn't broken yet, or do they wait for her to start showing symptoms? They eventually decide to put her on a course of oral pills - the drugs head for the defecting cells and hopefully stop them in their tracks. It's a stop-gap measure, but it buys some time to build up her defenses before they have to rush her into a more aggressive treatment.
It also gives her the holidays at home, which she desperately wants. Jesse freely admits he doesn't know a damn thing about Hanukkah. He catches Rachel watching with a soft smile while Hiram is attempting to explain the various intricacies. It does something funny to his insides when she looks at them like that - like she's trying to sketch the picture in her mind to hold on to.
It turns out that another Berry family tradition is to go walking around the neighborhood to look at all the lights. It's not a ritual she's about to give up, despite how overprotective the three men in her life are being these days. They insist on her bundling up in extra clothes - Jesse laughs when she gets tangled up in a scarf, suddenly picturing a 5-year-old Rachel in the same situation.
Hiram and Leroy look just about as wrapped up in each other as the younger couple. Holding hands, they wander on ahead a few yards, giving Jesse ample time to study her. Tonight, she really looks like an ingenue - a fuzzy blue cap pulled down low over her ears, cheeks flushed with color, the frosty cloud her breath makes in the air, the way her eyes sparkle in all the lights. He winds up stealing kisses whenever he can, and she giggles when her dads look back at them.
"I always wondered what it felt like," she muses later as they sit on her front steps looking up at the stars - not quite ready to head back into the warmth of the house yet.
"What?"
"What my dads have. Having someone there with you." She looks up at him. "Loving someone that much."
"You're lucky," he tells her. "I don't remember ever seeing my own parents act like that."
"I am lucky," she agrees, tucking herself closer to his side. At that moment, he feels pretty lucky, too.
The holidays have always left him feeling a little out of sorts. For one thing, his family wasn't overly close. For another, he's never been the type to particularly believe in any particular deity, which seems to be what's wrapped up in this whole season. But right here, right now, sitting with her - it makes him believe, or at least hope, that there is a higher power.
He's never been one for traditions before. But all he knows is he wants this, with her, every year. And if there's even a possibility that there's someone up there who can help - he's willing to suspend his disbelief to pray for that.
Right after the holidays is when it all goes to hell. She insists on going caroling with Kurt and Mercedes - then wakes up four days later feverish and fighting for breath. The ER calls it stress-induced pneumonia - but because of her history, she gets the full battery of tests. And that's when the CT scan shows the maverick cells - the small growth in her abdomen, near the area where one was removed a year and a half ago; and, more frightening, another in her chest, very near the bottom of her lung. So this time, it's going to be a round of radiation - in hopes of shrinking or even eliminating the masses in order to spare her from more surgery.
Rachel is in another room talking to the counselor the hospital makes all the teen patients see while Dr. Maxwell pulls Hiram, Leroy and Jesse into his office to see if they have any questions. Leroy is swearing a blue streak, and Jesse is right there with him. It's Hiram who is trying to settle his partner and the younger man, as well as quietly asking the important questions.
The fact that they just can't seem to kick this, that it's constantly one step forward and two steps back, means her odds are about 50-50, Maxwell tells them. And they still haven't found a matched donor. Jesse tries his hardest to push all talk of odds out of his mind. But he does refuse to let go of her hand when she comes back from the counselor's office.
This time, the treatment leaves her extremely fatigued, with no appetite and a dry mouth. Worse, because of the location of the growth in her chest, her breathing is sorely affected, and she develops a dry cough. Walking up a flight of stairs seems to steal her breath - let alone running through a dance sequence or holding a glory note.
It's possible things could improve slightly as her body adjusts over the 10 weeks of treatment. But right now, it looks next to impossible that she'll be capable of carrying the team at regionals the first week of March. She executes more than one picture-perfect stormout while Dr. Maxwell is attempting to discuss her physical limitations with her - the nurses stop even looking up when the door slams after the first few. Other than that, she takes it gracefully enough.
She's determined to still lead the team in her own way, though. Schuester appoints her student co-director of New Directions. Her extensive CD collection gets a serious workout and sheet music is everywhere as she spends hours poring over options for the setlist. She offers Finn the opportunity, as co-captain, to contribute, but he really doesn't care, as long as he isn't singing any particularly girlish songs. He's landed himself a partial scholarship to Gannon University, in Pennsylvania - he really, really wanted to leave the state - and senioritis seems to be setting in. Either that, or he's just bright enough to stay out of Rachel's line of fire. The college acceptances are slowly starting to trickle in. Kurt's disappointment at being rejected by Parsons is tempered when acceptance letters from FIT, NYU and the School of Design all arrive the next day. Blaine does appear headed for NYU. Quinn got into Carnegie Mellon - Finn's truck is going to need some work if it's going to survive the two-hour trip on a regular basis - while Santana and Brittany are heading to Miami. Rachel smiles and congratulates her classmates every time someone runs into the choir room with good news, remaining mum on the status of her own applications.
Santana has taken over most of the lead female vocals for New Directions. She has a versatile voice that works effectively with both Mercedes' soulful take on classics and Brittany's surprisingly endearing style. Rachel practically sits on her hands in class to keep from volunteering every answer, saving all her energy for rehearsal. Her voice is still capable of carrying quite well when she wants it to, much to her teammates' chagrin as she barks out directions. Jesse, glancing up from scribbling his own notes, can never stop himself from noticing how much like Shelby she looks sitting there. And thinking of how unlike they really are.
Shelby really hasn't been around. After Rachel had learned the whole story about the bone marrow testing, she had called Shelby to thank her personally, and the pair had a strange and stilted lunch meeting. Shelby had made a few awkward overtures after that, but it was very obvious that she still wasn't quite sure how to deal with a teenager, that she was hesitant. Rachel lets her know that she appreciates the thoughts, and thank you very much, but she doesn't want to have some guilt trip relationship just because she could be dying. Shelby calls, or sends a note, every few weeks; Rachel responds in kind but doesn't attempt to take things farther. She's long since made her peace with it, she says - she has her dads, and she has him, and really, that's all the family she needs.
On the days when she isn't feeling well enough to attend rehearsal, she insists that Jesse videotape it for her so she can offer a written critique. Schuester looks distinctly frazzled every time Jesse hands him the notes the next day, and the younger man doesn't blame him. He's caught Rachel calling Schuester more than once ("Honestly, Mr. Schue, I don't know why you persist with that vocal warmup - it's clearly not stretching their range adequately enough to prepare them for a properly vigorous rehearsal.") and those phone calls usually last quite awhile.
Rachel Berry has never failed at anything she's really set her mind to. Her energy is infectious and has the team firing on all cylinders at regionals. Santana and Brittany pair up on a lively rendition of 'Take Me or Leave Me' that sparks with chemistry, and the group follows up with a solid reprise of one of their favorite Journey numbers.
They stand on stage waiting for the results - Rachel in between Jesse and Schuester - and Jesse can't resist casting derisive glances at Dustin Goolsby's over-sculpted hair. When the judges step onstage, Rachel slips her hand into his, squeezes.
It's no real surprise that New Directions earns the trip to Nationals in Chicago in May. Jesse can't help feeling a bit smug when Vocal Adrenaline can only manage third. They're lacking star power - of course they are. Something about a little girl running off to the United Nations.
He knows it's not how she pictured holding the trophy. But she smiles up at Schuester anyway. "Being a part of something special makes you special, right?"
The teacher's eyes are suspiciously red on the bus on the way home.
He comes in with the rehearsal videotape one Thursday afternoon a week later and finds her sitting on the edge of her bed. She looks up from the papers she's holding to smile at him, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Hey."
"Hello." He drops a kiss on her forehead and settles behind her on the bed.
It takes him a second to place the logo on the letterhead and just another moment to scan the all-important first paragraph of the letter. "Rachel!"
"I got in," she says, unnecessarily, her lips tugging up into a little grin.
"I can see that." He scans the letter again. "Jesus, Rachel. NYADA. I'm so proud of you. What did your dads say?"
"I didn't tell them yet."
He pulls back from the crushing hug he's enveloped her in. "Are you kidding me? When are they getting home? I can't wait to see their faces. We'll take you out." He knows he's gushing a little - he'll scoff at himself later - but NYADA is a big deal, and he's honestly confused why she's being so quiet.
She smiles finally, taking the letter back from him, tucking it neatly back into its envelope and propping it up in the center of her desk. "At least I got in. That's something."
"What do you mean 'at least?'" He doesn't like the way she's looking at him, and his heart gives this little lurch, like she's saying something important, here.
"I can't go to New York in the fall if I relapse again, Jesse," she says, tucking her legs underneath her as she settles back on the bed.
"You won't."
"I could."
"I'm pretty sure they have doctors in New York, too," he points out. "Maybe the best."
"It's my dream school, Jesse," she sighs. "But the fact remains that I'm not your typical high school senior anymore. I need some kind of a plan B. ... Not to mention the fact that i'm currently incapable of singing anything more stressful than 'happy birthday.'"
"It's going to get better," he insists. "You're going to finish this treatment, and get better, and win Nationals. You're destined for so much, Rachel. The big stage, your name in lights, star billing..." He's trying to paint the picture for her, because the look in her eyes is scaring him a little.
"Thank you," she whispers, leaning in to kiss him softly, "For believing in me." When she pulls back, she finally smiles at him - a real smile. "And what are you going to do while I do all that?"
He grins back at her. "I'll be right there with you. Clearly."
"What about next year? When I start college or ... whatever?"
"I don't know," he admits. "I'm certainly not going back to UCLA. I'd like to go to New York. With you. But I don't know that going back to school is for me. I messed up the first go-round, but some things about it did open my eyes. Maybe I'll audition for a few shows ... try my luck."
"That's a good plan." She nods.
"I'm glad you approve," he teases.
"It's a good plan, and I want you to go, with or without me."
He's thrown by the sudden shift in conversation, and in her tone. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"Rachel, now you're being crazy." He sits up, runs a hand through his hair in anger.
She reaches out to catch his hand. "I'm not giving up. I promise. But I need to know you're not giving up on yourself because of me."
"We need to not be having this conversation right now, then."
"Jesse, I need you to promise me."
He shakes his head in denial, gripping her hand too hard. He's seen too many bad dramas. He knows what it means when they get to the point with promises. He wants to argue with her and drag her back from thinking this way. But "I can't," is all that comes out.
"You can," she insists. "Remember what you told me? It's an inevitability."
The way she's looking at him, he can feel something inside of him break. It starts with one tear running down his face, and she tenderly brushes it away with her thumb. It's more than he can stand. He winds up with his head buried in her lap.
He doesn't think he's cried since he was six.
He cannot stand the thought of doing this alone. 'Thanks' to his family situation, he's been independent his whole life - by necessity, if not exactly by choice, at first. He's used to it. It's safe. And now he's gotten a taste of so much more - of love, of a real family. He refuses to go back to what he was before - and the thought of that choice being taken out of his hands, yet again, is terrifying.
He can hear her gently humming something by Sondheim, and it breaks his heart a little bit more, because how can he even think about losing the one person who knows him this well?
When he has no more tears, he's bone tired. He slowly looks up at her. She's been stroking her hands through his hair this whole time, patiently. He thinks in this moment, she looks incredibly wise.
"I've been waiting for you to do that," she says, almost conversationally. "It took one of my dads just a week before he fell apart when he thought so one was looking. The other didn't cry til right after Nationals last year. But you're supposed to let it out. It's probably better for you."
"This isn't fair," he says, tugging on her hand to pull her down beside him on the bed. "I'm supposed to be taking care of you."
"We'll take care of each other," she says quietly. "That's what people do who are in love, Jesse."
"You shouldn't be wasting your energy."
"Then make me stop worrying. I need to know you won't give up on your dreams, Jesse. Promise me."
"Then promise me that you'll be there, too." He squeezes her hand hard. "What, you think I'm supposed to become a star without the one leading lady who's ever been worthy of sharing a stage with me? I'm not doing this alone."
She thinks about it for a moment, then smiles softly at him. "You'll never do it alone, Jesse. I promise. I'll always be looking out for you."
It's what she isn't saying. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"I know. But my dads told me never to make a promise I couldn't keep. And I can keep this one, one way or the other." She forces a little grin at him. "I mean, that's the worst case scenario. The best case scenario is, of course, we take Broadway by storm. They'll never stop us."
He hears the door click and voices downstairs. "My dads must be home," she says. "Want to come with me to show off my acceptance letter and listen to them panic about New York?"
He smiles and lets her pull him up off the bed, not protesting when she nudges him in the direction of her en-suite bathroom so he can wash his face. When he re-emerges, she reaches out to tangle her fingers with his.
"My dads love you too, you know," she says quietly. "You're never going to be alone again, Jesse."
He pulls her closer and kisses her hard, hoping she'll think it's just sentiment. Really, it's to reassure himself that she's still here - because even with her right there next to him, he feels like part of her is already leaving.