Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. I love reading them! For those who are worried this will end with Rachel dying, I seriously doubt that will happen. I can't see myself writing such a thing. As my dear friend northstar61 said, for someone who is called 'The Fluff Queen', this isn't fluffy at all, but I don't think I'll make it that angsty. Sure, there won't be a happy ending any time soon, but there will be a happy ending. I promise. But half the fun of a story is the journey it takes before it reaches said happy ending, so let's carry on with it, shall we?

it's all coming back to me now

chapter four

Jesse felt as if he had been punched in the gut and had the ground ripped off from under his feet. The Broadway actor fell back on the couch, eyes wide and face pale as he absorbed the bomb his former girlfriend threw at him. "No", he whispered, shaking his head. "No, you can't be, Rachel, I don't believe you".

The tiny brunette gave him a sad smile. "I wish I was lying, Jesse, I really do. But unfortunately, I'm not. I am sick, and I'll start the second round of chemo in two weeks, but no one knows how it can go, although the odds are in my favor in my case. I'm young and I took good care of myself before I learnt I was sick, so the doctors are hopeful."

"Then…" Jesse took a deep breath and watched her carefully for a moment. Rachel's attitude didn't match her optimistic words, and he frowned. "Then why aren't you?"

Rachel shrugged and looked away from him. "After everything, I've learnt to expect for the worst. It keeps me from feeling frustrated", she said cryptically, and stood up. She ran her hand through her thin hair, pain bubbling in her chest as she felt the thin strands.

Jesse nodded even though he didn't understand, and then something Rachel said clicked in his mind. "What do you mean, second round of chemo? How long have you known you're sick?"

"Six months", she said promptly. "But I didn't start chemo until a month ago".

Jesse frowned deeper. "Then why now? You've known you're sick for a semester now, and you didn't ask for my help then. Hell, you didn't ask for my help when you were pregnant and needing it the most. Why now?"

Rachel shrugged again and stood up, going to the adjoining kitchen. She filled a glass with water for herself and one for Jesse, and took it back to the living room. "I didn't ask for help when I was pregnant because I was hurt and angry. I didn't do it six months ago because I didn't think I was that sick when I first started feeling ill." She handed him the glass of water and sat back down. "But I am, and if there's one thing I've learnt during this ordeal is that I need all the help I can get". She took a long sip from her glass. "You're part of that help. Unless, of course, you don't want to help, then that's okay. I'll figure out something".

"Don't be stupid", Jesse snapped. "Of course I'll help. She's my daughter, and you're her mother. Try and stop me from helping to see if you'll succeed".

The brunette nodded slightly, but then a shrill cry interrupted whatever it was that she was going to say next. Then a tiny girly voice screeched, "Mama!" and Jesse's heart began pumping furiously in his chest.

A small, genuine smile lit up Rachel's face, and she stood up, briefly looking at him. "We'll be right back".

"You've lost it if you think you're going in that bedroom without me", Jesse stated firmly. Rachel rolled her eyes but nodded, and when she went to Noelle's bedroom he was hot on her heels.

Noelle was crying softly on her bed when they walked in, and her tiny face lit up when she saw her mother. "Mama!" She cried again, holding out her little arms for Rachel. The brunette picked her daughter up, and the little girl nuzzled her face against her mother's warm neck.

"Hey, baby, what's wrong?" Rachel asked her quietly, her voice dripping with love. Jesse, standing by the doorway, couldn't find in himself the strength to look away from the beautiful picture that seemed to have gotten out straight from his wildest dreams.

"Mama", Noelle whimpered and hugged her mother a little tighter.

"What's it, Noe? Bad dream?" Rachel was talking softly to her daughter, feeling the small body shiver beneath her arms. She pressed a kiss to the wet, soft cheek, and brushed her face a little against the small dark head of her child. "It's alright, baby, mama's here".

She began humming softly, and smiled a little when she felt Noelle relaxing in her arms. "You want to go back to sleep?" She asked quietly, sighing silently as the little girl, her face still hidden on her neck, shook her head negatively. "Alright then. I just came home from work, and…" Rachel shot Jesse a quick glance, seemed to ponder what she was going to say, then took a deep breath and smiled at her baby. "… and we have a guest, baby!"

Noelle curiously looked up from where she had hidden her face, and Jesse felt his heart quicken as her beautiful blue eyes – his eyes – locked with his. Her eyes widened, and she straightened a little bit, the blue pools turning to Rachel with an unspoken question. Rachel nodded, and Noelle turned back to her father, her voice small and unsure. "… Daddy?"

Jesse's heart skipped one, two, ten beats.

And then came back with a vengeance, pounding furiously inside his chest, as tears blurred his eyesight. "Hey, baby", he whispered, his voice thick with tears.

Noelle squirmed on her mother's arms, and Rachel gently put her on her feet; the little girl then padded softly up to her father, the blue eyes wide with surprise. Her little hand found the leg of Jesse's pants, and once her smooth skin made contact with the rough fabric, she hugged Jesse's leg tight, a beautiful smile – Rachel's smile – lighting up her round face. "Daddy!" She squealed.

The tears Jesse was struggling to keep at bay broke free from the feeble control he had over them and flowed down his pale cheeks. Kneeling in front of her, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight, hiding his face on her hair, breathing the sweet smell of baby and soap. Rachel, her own grasp at her emotions weak at best, silently sneaked away from them, going to her bedroom and leaving father and daughter to their emotional reunion.

Blaine was by her side in a flash the minute she walked in her bedroom and pressed her forehead against the cold wall. He put a hand on her shoulder, concern darkening the handsome face. "Hey. Everything alright? I heard Noe screaming".

Rachel nodded tiredly. "She was having a bad dream and woke up."

"Oh", Blaine made. "And where is she now? Back to sleep?" He frowned, because, although Noelle was a deep sleeper, once she woke up and Rachel was home she wanted to be with her mother all the time, putting up quite a fight for such a little girl against going back to bed.

Rachel shook her head negatively and sighed shakily. "She's with her father". She closed her eyes tightly, and then felt Blaine's arms wrapping around her waist in a tight embrace.

"Breathe", he whispered in her ear, and she fisted the front of his t-shirt, gulping air through her mouth in a try to keep herself from weeping. "The hardest part is done. You told him you guys have a daughter, and that you're sick. Everything will be fine now".

Slowly, Rachel's thin body stopped shivering so violently under Blaine's arms, and her harsh breaths became calmer and normal. She stepped away from his embrace with a thankful smile, and he grinned back at her, affection blooming in his chest. Yes, he had lost a lover because of that girl and his support of her decisions. But he had gotten a friend in return, his best friend, who he loved and who loved him like a sister.

"Thanks, Blaine", she gave his cheek a small kiss and went back to the living room.

Rachel found Jesse and Noelle on the living room, Jesse sitting on the couch and Noelle on his lap, talking excitedly about her daycare friends. Jesse was looking at the little girl with fascination, his blue eyes sparkling in a way that warmed Rachel's heart, his arms wrapped possessively around Noelle's lithe body. The brunette cleared her throat quietly, and Noelle brightened up even more (if that was possible) when she saw her mother.

"Mama!" She called happily and jumped from Jesse's lap, bolting to her mother. She took Rachel's hand and tugged firmly at it, leading her to the couch and pushing her legs so Rachel sat on it next to Jesse. Her arm accidentally brushed against his, and both froze at the small electric jolt that rushed through them at the small contact.

The two adults looked at each other, emotions bubbling on their chests, but Rachel was the first to look away, reluctant, for the first time ever, to allow herself to fall for his spell. Noelle was none the wiser to the little moment her parents shared, babbling happily as she made herself comfortable on Rachel's lap, her little hand playing with Jesse's longer, elegant fingers. "I was telling daddy about my school and granddaddy and grandpa and grandma and auntie Satan and auntie Q and uncle Noah!"

Jesse lifted a questioning eyebrow at Rachel. "Auntie Satan?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and shot a reprimanding look at Noelle, who smiled sheepishly. "Santana. My friend from Callbacks. A pretty Latina who tends to mix Spanish and English?" She told Jesse, who seemed to think about his brief hour at the pub and then nodded. "Someone has been listening a little too much to what Noah says", the brunette scolded lightly, and Noelle looked down, a faint tint of red on her cheeks.

"Sorry, mama".

Rachel looked seriously at her daughter for a little while longer and then smiled softly, kissing the little head full of curls. "That's okay, baby", she whispered, and Noelle gave her mother a bright smile – Rachel's smile, the smile that caught Jesse's eye the first time he saw her, all those years ago. She really was the perfect mix of the two of them, his little girl.

(Good God, he has a little girl. It left him breathless, that thought).

Curled up on his lap, Noelle has stopped babbling and started playing with his fingers. Rachel was silent, just watching the two of them. Although there was a smile on her face, her eyes had a guarded look, and he couldn't for the life of him guess what she was thinking. She had a life here – a nice, comfortable life, with friends that clearly loved her and a daughter that was probably the most precious child ever. She didn't need him in her life.

Then why had she gone after him?

All of a sudden, Noelle stilled in his arms, her breathing deep and regular. He clumsily tried to hold her more comfortably in his arms, and Rachel stood up. "I have to take her to her bed", she told him, and he nodded, kissing Noelle's hair before allowing Rachel to take her in her arms and carry her to her little girly bedroom. Jesse stayed behind, standing up and really examining the living room.

There were pictures literally everywhere, which didn't surprise him because Rachel always liked taking pictures. He recognized a few of the snapshots from the old apartment, pictures of Rachel in different stages of her life: as a baby, with her parents; a little girl with a bright smile and missing teeth, with a hazel-eyed boy; the cute teen, wearing plaid skirts and animal sweaters, arms linked with a younger Kurt; the college graduate he remembered, trying to hop on the Broadway bandwagon, with Kurt and Blaine.

And then there were pictures of her pregnant. Dear God, she was a beautiful pregnant woman. He hated her, for a second, for having denied him the opportunity of seeing her during that special time.

There were pictures of Noelle, too. Noelle as a newborn with the guy from the bar. As a probably six-month-old baby with a clearly smitten Blaine. As a toddler, her little hands wrapped around the bar's blond bouncer's legs, clearly taking her first steps. With her mother, grinning happily as she licked a popsicle, Rachel looking at her like she was the most perfect child on Earth.

When he snapped out of his exam of her pictures, Rachel had already returned from tucking Noelle in, watching him again with those guarded eyes. Seeing her so reserved made him miss the days where she was open and honest with him, and his heart ached.

"I'm really sorry", she began quietly, "that I dropped all of this on you. I suppose I could afford being more patient, telling you in steps. First about Noelle, then a few weeks later, about me being sick. But…" She sighed. "As I said. I need help, with Noelle. She is a really precocious, intelligent child, but she's still a child and there are things she doesn't fully understand. My friends are great, and Matt, Sam, Noah and Blaine are awesome with her, but she needs her father right now".

"I understand", he replied, picking up a picture of Noelle and Rachel. "Your cancer… is it terminal?"

She shook her head negatively. "No. I was really lucky. We picked up on it early on, and April insisted I went to the best doctors in town. She's basically affording everything, it's a fight with my parents every month because she doesn't want them to pay her back", she smiled fondly.

"Then I… I don't understand why you're telling me you're sick", Jesse said quietly.

"I've been thinking of letting you know about Noelle for roughly two years now, give or take. Once I decided I was ready to let you in her life, and indirectly back into mine, I realized you would notice the changes I'll go through because of the chemo. Losing weight, losing hair, all that jazz. It wouldn't be fair, not to be honest with you from the start", she said serenely, not a sting of venom when she spoke about honesty from the beginning.

"Oh", he made, and then nodded. "Okay." He was lost for words, didn't know what to say to her. He needed time, to go home and process everything. When he woke up that morning, he had no idea where she was, but hoped she was happy and healthy somewhere. Now, he knew where she was, and she was happy (thank God), but she was sick. And they had a daughter together.

He needed time to wrap his mind around all the changes.

Jesse left her apartment a short while later, with a handful of pictures of Noelle in his bag and Rachel's new cell phone number on his contact list, and his brain buzzing. He was a father. His daughter's mother – the woman he still loved, even after three years – was sick, with leukemia. He needed to rant at someone, and so he tugged out his cell phone and pressed a button.

When the annoyed voice answered, he didn't waste any time on greetings. "I need to talk. Are you home?" He listened to the answer and then nodded. "Great. Then I'm coming over. See you in 15 minutes".