Caught In Your Bad Romance
Stop.
The command pounded through her head, confused and frantic, but her body wasn't listening. Blind fingers reached out, latching onto fistfuls of his warm shirt and pulling him closer; crushing their bodies together in a delicious tangle of hot limbs and eager mouths. The pressure of his torso against hers pinned them both to the bed with a grounding weight that set every cell of her body on edge.
Rachel was acutely aware of every touch of his hands as they roamed across her form: the trail he was weaving slowly down her side, the sparkling heat of his fingers as they skimmed the gap of skin at her midriff for a tantalizing moment before sliding lower on their wandering path, following the curve of her leg. She drew in a breath, breaking their kiss for only a second as she felt his hand hook under her knee and give a strong tug, settling her body firmly beneath his.
Too fast.
The voice of reason struggled to free itself from her absorbed thoughts, but he wouldn't release her lips long enough for her to even attempt to verbalise it.
There was a current of urgency that hummed under their movements, a deep pull that Rachel had never felt before, and it thrilled and unnerved her at the same time. Another jolt surged through her system as she felt Jesse draw her deeper into his embrace, his body gripping hers with the kind of intensity that normally sprang from agonized separation; as if it had been months instead of days since they had last touched. Though of course, it some ways, it had been.
The fervour that had descended in that first moment of contact was still raging through them both: a swirling black hole that greedily consumed everything around it; frightening and demanding and never satisfied; spurred on with each lingering submission. She could feel it beckoning in the tempting press of their bodies: a void of darkness that drowned out any light that strayed too close. And the reckless urge to surrender to it only made her more determined not to.
Absence made the heart do funny things. She had survived for a year without being this close to him, and she had barely blinked at it. She was finally content, her life wasn't missing anything; she certainly didn't miss him. Yet somehow, the last two days had felt almost like a trial of endurance: unconsciously tracking the clock, counting down to the next moment they could steal some time together.
Her attempt to keep a clear, defined line between him and her life was getting harder and harder to maintain, as she found his illicit presence invading her thoughts with an unsettling regularity. Rachel caught herself making notes of little things throughout her day: a song inspiration that she wanted his opinion on; something random that made her laugh during rehearsal; frustration at a lack of progress with a certain number; muttered insults she overheard but pretended she didn't; the surreal sensation of sitting in on Cheerios practice with Mercedes to cheer on Kurt. Making a mental catalogue of things she wanted to tell him: knowing the things that would amuse him too; the references he would get and her erratic trains of thought that he could somehow follow. Pretending for a moment that he would still want to know the things that bothered her and imagining what his responses might be; before abruptly remembering that he didn't fulfil that role in her life anymore and forcing herself to abandon them.
She had kept her promise. Rachel was there at Finn's game last night: firmly sandwiched between Tina and Matt, and surrounded by most of the club as they cheered on their team with the rest of the school.
But even there, she couldn't escape it. She'd tried her best to push it aside, to ignore the stubborn memory of him beside her: that smiling voice in her ear, lips that brushed her cheek in a deceptively chaste kiss, enjoying how easily he could distract her from the sports they were supposed to be watching. She determinedly blocked out the feeling of his arms wrapped around her stomach, gently pulling her back into him, as they joined the impromptu sing-along down on that same court so long ago.
Rachel had beamed a little too brightly, clapped a little too hard, whenever Finn scored and looked over in their direction. She'd dutifully fought her way through the crowd of cheering students to his side after the whistle blew, chatting happily with a dazzling smile of congratulations: the perfect picture of the proud girlfriend. This was where she was supposed to be, where she wanted to be. This was her life now.
So why couldn't she shake the tricky feeling that everything was somehow backwards?
The trip to visit her Aunt's today had been a relief. A chance to escape the hall of mirrors her life was quickly becoming: a distorted maze of illusions that she was beginning to fear she would never find her way out of.
It had almost worked. Sophie had taken her and her dads out to lunch and a matinée, as was their tradition, and Rachel had clung to the comforting safety like a lifeline: she'd laughed and sung along and talked a mile-a-minute when quizzed about her future plans, unbelievably grateful to feel somewhat normal again.
But it wasn't quite enough to subdue it: the longing anticipation that nudged away at the back of her mind; a restlessness that she struggled to define. It was confusing and dangerous but just wouldn't be ignored, despite all her silent protests. It was insane. He wasn't allowed to affect her like this anymore. He'd lost that right long ago.
Yet she'd still smiled and politely waved off her dads' offer to join them for dinner with a works colleague tonight; refusing to acknowledge the skip in her heart as her fingers itched to reach for her phone. She suppressed the surge of butterflies in her stomach at the sound of his voice; trying to sound casual, even though it wasn't really in her nature.
When she'd answered the door just a little later, she recalled only the fiery jolt that stormed through her body, a glimpse of that perfect knowing smile, before he cut off her greeting and she was swept up in his touch, the front door only just closing behind them.
Everything was kind of a blur after that. Warm breath against her jaw; fractured words exchanged between heated kisses; breathless laughter as she slipped out of his hug, pulling them both through the house as they half stumbled to her room, Jesse never letting her stray out of touch of his fingers.
His jacket had been discarded at the foot of the stairs, eager hands stripping away the layers without conscious permission, instinct overtaking. Jesse tugged his arms out the sleeves impatiently as she slipped it off his shoulders, before instantly wrapping them around her again and reclaiming her lips, jerking her back to him. Her sweater had soon followed, dropped on the floor of her bedroom; his movements smooth and insistent as he easily worked the garment away from her body, leaving her in only a thin vest top. His palms skimmed her bare arms, mouth hot over hers, as he gently pushed them towards the bed.
Rachel knew she was in well over her head. Maybe they both were. A twisted addiction that kept coming back to haunt them. She knew that he was complicating her life in risky and troubling ways, amusing himself at her expense, playing her just as skilfully as before. So why was she letting him? Why couldn't she walk away? Rachel didn't understand the word of her body anymore: why it betrayed her so consistently, why it reacted so strongly to his presence. Maybe the whispers were there to be heard, deep down, but her mind was still in denial. Denial to him. To whatever this madness was.
She felt him smile into their increasingly demanding kiss as he adjusted his grip, his hand retracing its path to lightly caress up her thigh before coming to curl around her waist. He pulled away just enough to smirk at the blush on her cheeks, before leaning in to run his lips over the line of her shoulder, teeth just grazing the soft skin playfully, before slipping lower to press a trail of kisses across her collarbone with painstaking precision.
Rachel sighed shakily, grasping into his dark curls as she struggled to catch enough oxygen to think clearly, but the sensation of his mouth drawing slowly over her exposed torso was driving her to distraction, ratcheting up the temperature to an unbearable degree between them. Her shallow breath echoed in her ears, distancing her from her surroundings, from everything but the silky touch of his lips against her skin; the warmth of his body leaning into hers; the forbidden urge that stirred up through her blood. This could tumble so easily out of all control.
Jesse felt her shudder in his arms, her fingers flexing tightly in his hair, as he skimmed his mouth just above the low curve of her scoop neckline; taking full advantage of just how little fabric covered her from his gaze and touch. Her intoxicating scent filled his lungs with each burning breath but he still took his time, laying lingering kisses across her warm chest as he worked his way back up to the hollow of her throat; expertly coaxing soft moans from her lips with each brush of contact.
Rachel's hand moved down to grip the back of his neck, as if to ground herself against the fevered shivers that shot down her spine. She knew he was teasing her, and taking sly pleasure in it, but she could feel the barely restrained desire that simmered just beneath the surface of his touch. And it frightened her at how much her own was taking over her senses in response.
They couldn't do this. She wouldn't.
Jesse raised his head, mouth meeting hers again in a hot crush, and Rachel nearly lost her sense of thought entirely as she felt his hand slip under the cotton of her top, fingertips stroking delicately across her bellybutton. She gasped softly, her body tensing against his as they sunk deeper into the fierce kiss. His hands were skilled at more than piano keys and Rachel drew in a sharp breath, nearly biting down on his lip, as she felt those nimble fingers reach up to lightly trace her ribs, thumb brushing the bare skin just under the line of her bra.
No.
She nearly moaned in reluctance when his mouth finally broke from hers, moving lower to nestle against the slope of her neck. She swallowed painfully, fighting the will of her body, as reason began to seep back into her mind with more force. She felt his hand splay gently against her stomach; the touch of his elegant fingertips just as heavenly against her skin as she remembered.
And just as daunting.
"Jesse..." she stuttered out.
"Hmm?" His mouth didn't move from her skin and she could feel the murmur press through her body in a soft vibration, running all the way to her core.
"We can't…do this."
She felt a muffled groan of objection against her neck, his fingers digging in deeper to the curve of her waist, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from echoing him. Instead she took a deep, steadying breath; trying to calm her aching heartbeat that was pounding against his.
"Don't," she whispered, features pinched in a frown. She shook her head, knowing he could feel it, the words gentle but firm. "I can't."
There was a beat of tense hesitation as Jesse slowly swept his lips down her throat in a last soft kiss, before pressing his forehead into the crook of her neck; a shudder rippling through his body that could have almost been a strained laugh.
"Jesus, Rach."
She could feel his breath, warm and slightly laboured, as it fell against her skin.
"Do you torture Finn like this?"
A spike tore through her heart at his name, turning her cold. She knew he felt her flinch, and quickly pushed her hand into his chest, forcing him to move off her. "Don't bring him into this."
"Why not?" he challenged, resentment breaking through his tone as he watched Rachel shove herself away from him and get to her feet. "It's always about him, isn't it?"
Her expression was hard when she turned back to face him, her gaze cutting into his but her lips unmoving in the sharp retort he'd expected. A smug gleam entered Jesse's eyes.
"But you've still not let him that close yet. Even after all this time."
Rachel stiffened but quickly recovered herself. Crossing her arms, she raised a cool eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?"
His mouth tilted in a tight smirk. "Go on then, tell me I'm wrong."
They were both standing now, locked in the taught impasse. Sparing him a quick glower, Rachel swiftly adopted her best poker face. "What makes you think I would ever tell you anything? None of your business is it?"
Jesse laughed but it was without humour. "I see. So all that stuff about not being ready, that was just for my benefit." A sardonic smile stirred briefly at the edge of his lips. "You were always ready for him."
Her hand moved so quickly, he only caught a glimpse before he felt the sudden, biting sting that lashed across his cheekbone. Rachel's eyes were blazing when he found them again, anger replacing the flush on her cheeks, yet there was no apology in either gaze.
"What about you pressuring me to give you my virginity, when you knew all along you would betray us?" she demanded furiously. "When you knew that I meant nothing to you. Just another notch on your bedpost; another conquest to brag about; proof of the profound, seduction skills of Jesse St. James. Taking method acting very seriously weren't you."
The mocking in her voice gave way to unconcealed bitterness. "How could you do that? Were you really so flippant about destroying my heart?" She shook her head to herself, voice hard with self reproach. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to think you were ever capable of change; that you were anything but selfish."
Her eyes flashed up to his, burning with accusation; old wounds breaking to the surface and escaping her mouth before she could stop them. A cold smile crossed her lips. "Can't imagine you filled Shelby in on that little development."
Dead silence echoed in the wake of her words. Jesse felt every muscle in his body tense, his heart clench sorely in his ribcage, but his face remained impassive.
"Rachel…"
It was almost a warning, but she was in no mood to take heed. Her lips curved in a shadow of a laugh as she backed a step away from him.
"Did you think I wouldn't work it out someday? The timing? It was a rather big coincidence, don't you think?"
His silence struck into her chest like a physical blow, icy and painful, but she forced herself not to react to it. She searched his expression but it was carefully controlled, giving little away.
Of course she had formed her suspicions over the months. During all those long, dark nights when she had lain awake and replayed every tortured twist of their relationship over and over again, desperately searching for a sign she'd missed, for the quantifiable moment when it had all gone so suddenly wrong. Looking back, the links had been there from the beginning; but she took a long time to put it together. Or maybe she was simply reluctant to see it. It all came back to Vocal Adrenaline in the end, tangled ties of loyalty, but it was possibly much closer to home than she'd ever believed before.
She still didn't want to believe it.
But he had never been here to confront. She'd never had the chance to put her ropey theory to the test, to look him in the face and hear it from his lips: to let him deny it, spin fresh lies, or try to give his side of the story. And so Rachel had determinedly put the lingering doubt behind her; done her best to forget about it and nearly succeeded. Until now.
It was one thing to suspect. Confirmation was something else entirely.
His eyes were guarded but not closed off completely – not yet. Yet they may as well of been for all the sense she could make of the maelstrom of emotion she glimpsed in them. Silent conflict creased the edges of those dark pools, tightening the corners of his mouth; fighting over words he was unwilling to speak. It wasn't often someone wrong-footed Jesse, and she took a hollow sense of pride in the small victory.
"It was all her idea wasn't it?"
Jesse hesitated, for once caught off guard, though it barely flickered on his face. Ingrained loyalty to his old mentor bubbled through his thoughts, and for a moment he thought of attempting to bluff his way out of the dangerous confrontation. Yet something told him the effort would be fruitless.
Perhaps he'd had this coming for a long time. It was a calculated risk he'd taken by coming back. Still, he'd always arrogantly assumed that if it did eventually out, it would happen on his terms. But as usual, Rachel had taken things into her own hands; determined to do things her way, no matter the damage, and he knew there was no easy way off the hook now.
He looked her over shrewdly, assessing the language of her body and quiet demand in her voice; weighing his options. Time seemed to splinter into a thousand different paths before suddenly converging back into a single line. Screw it, he decided; gripped with a frustrated sense of recklessness. He was through taking bullets for Shelby.
The silence was reaching breaking point when he finally spoke, voice calm and flat, betraying nothing of his own thoughts.
"Yes."
He saw something tear through Rachel's eyes at his reluctant revelation. He swallowed hard but otherwise didn't flinch. "She asked me to get close to you. Gain your trust."
The surrendered truth lay heavy in the air between them. He waited, knowing the next move was hers and that he couldn't force her. Rachel held his eyes across the floor, a sharp intensity in those familiar depths as they searched his, as if trying to uncover the lie in his words. He couldn't tell if she was relieved or heartbroken at what she found, but she quickly covered it with a skillfulness he couldn't help but admire.
"And after you'd forced me to listen to that tape…"
He shrugged slightly. "Go back to Vocal Adrenaline. Let you two find each other."
Rachel nodded. He noted with some surprise that she didn't sound mad; in fact she sounded almost clinical. Like a forensic expert re-examining the mangled remains of a collision in the light of full facts. She didn't shout, didn't cry, didn't make a move to strike out again. Jesse found himself almost wishing she would, but the burn from her hand throbbed across his cheek in quick objection.
She stood perfectly still: arms folded across her chest, hiding her hands that were clenched into tight fists; the nails that were cutting into her palms, taking the brunt of the emotions she wouldn't let cross her face. She turned her head thoughtfully, her gaze dropping from his for the first time.
"You knew how I felt about it, but you pushed me. You told me I was ready. And you know what? I believed you." A sad smile ghosted over her lips before they quickly hardened into a thin line. "The plan worked perfectly didn't it? Except that when she found me, she realised she didn't want me."
"That's not –"
"What? True?" she snapped suddenly. "What do you know? You weren't there, Jesse!"
Yes I was.
He caught the words a split second before they slipped from his tongue, knowing they would only be an unnecessary provocation right now. Fair enough, Jesse may not have been there at the end of their little familial drama, but he was there at the beginning.
'Miss Corcoran? I'm Rachel Berry. I'm your daughter.'
With those words, the stage curtain should have fallen on them. Things had finally come full circle. His part was officially done, objective achieved; he was at last free to walk away from the increasingly messy tangle he had been caught up in.
His act with Rachel Berry was over; it was their story now.
Yet, while the rest of his team looked between themselves in confusion at the unexpected twist they were witnessing, exchanging glances of incredulity at New Directions daring to spy on them, Jesse found himself unable to look away from her. The girl who had just gate-crashed their rehearsal in such typically theatrical style, as only she could pull off.
He almost smiled. She certainly knew how to make an entrance.
He found he could only watch, transfixed, as Rachel commanded the attention of that entire room; effortlessly claiming centre stage with a familiar, unconscious grace that tugged deep in his chest. The memory of their last cruel encounter played through his mind before he quickly swiped it away. He truly hadn't expected her to want to step anywhere near him and Vocal Adrenaline again anytime soon, and he couldn't help but wonder what had drawn her here in the first place; what had tempted her back into the lion's den. Then again, he'd learnt that Rachel Berry was surprising by nature.
Ridiculous Gaga costume notwithstanding, it was one of the most tense moments of Jesse's life. He was sitting a mere row away from her: if she turned her head only slightly, she would have found his silent gaze locked on her, expression unguarded and all the truth she deserved burning in his eyes. The boy behind the show face laid bare for her sole witness – just for a single, fleeting moment.
But she didn't. Thankfully.
Her wide eyes were only for the woman on stage, her face full of confused questions and tentative hope. In unique contrast, she didn't even try to hide behind a cool façade; didn't attempt to put on an act for the benefit of their audience. There was only honest, unprotected emotion written across those beautiful features for everyone to see.
It was all wrong. How could she take such weakness and somehow turn it into strength? It was something he'd never quite managed to fathom out about her. Jesse winced inwardly at the sight of that same vulnerable dignity that had so nearly undone him, back in McKinley's parking lot.
He felt a knot form in his stomach as the emotional repercussions of what he'd set in motion settled briefly on his mind, before he firmly reminded himself that it was nothing to do with him anymore.
Jesse's gaze broke from Rachel to find the woman who had started it all. It was up to Shelby now. She finally had it: everything she had confided in him about; everything she'd said she wanted; everything he had worked and sacrificed his pride and ego to make happen. It was all standing right there in front of her at the edge of that stage, nervously waiting for her response.
Everything he'd given up.
Setting his jaw, Jesse instantly silenced the voice that quietly insisted that this wasn't to be their last scene together. He looked to Shelby, the words whispering through his mind, barely conscious yet glaring fiercely in his dark eyes. Don't screw this up.
Roughly pushing the memory back down, he forced himself not to rise to the bait. Tension snapped like jumping flames between them yet nether looked away. There was a hard, bitter gleam in Rachel's stare; something he still wasn't entirely used to seeing in her.
"Bit of an anti-climax wasn't it?" she said, almost conversationally. "All that trouble to find me, all that effort to trick me into learning the truth, only for her to decide that I wasn't what she wanted after all." A cold edge slipped into her voice, turning up the corners of her usually warm lips. "Not the fresh start she was looking for."
"That's not fair."
He wasn't quite sure why he felt the need to defend Shelby; except that their crimes were so interwoven, he almost felt it was impossible not to.
"Isn't it?" she demanded sharply. "Trust me, she couldn't have made her feelings any clearer than if she'd got up on stage and sung them aloud for everyone's entertainment!" Rachel flung out a hand in dramatic emphasis, before quickly pulling it back into the protective fold of her arms. Her chest tightened, air painful in her lungs, as the tumble of old memories mixed and churned inside her thoughts: volatile, confused and still unhealed.
'This was supposed to feel good. We were supposed to have some sort of slow motion run into each other's arms. This is all wrong.'
Furiously blinking her eyes clear, she forced her voice level again. "When it came down to it, she wanted nothing to do with me if she couldn't have it on her terms."
Jesse fought the urge to sigh. His brow furrowed slightly in frustration, wondering how the hell he'd ended up here, struggling to reconcile two sides of such a duplicitous story; one that he was never meant to have been a part of in the first place.
"It wasn't like it was an easy situation for her either, Rachel. It wasn't as if she went into it on a whim or anything." The words came across a bit blunter than he'd intended. "When she gave me that tape, she just…wanted to know you."
"No, she didn't."
The soft retort cut through the quiet like a blade, devastating in its simplicity. She looked up to meet his eyes, and for a moment she looked almost defeated; lost in a gulf of dark emotions and aimless anger.
"She wanted a daughter. She wanted this instant bond and magic moment. She wanted a family." Rachel lifted her shoulders in a weak shrug, a tremble breaking through her voice, so faint he nearly missed it altogether. "I was just a stranger."
Jesse felt something twist inside his chest, clawing through him in brutal protest, but there was nothing he could say. So he just let her talk.
Rachel finally averted her eyes away from him, speaking quietly to the room as she tried to swallow down the sour burn in her throat. "I was supposed to bring something to her; fulfil her life in some way; satisfy her needs." She knew her voice was betraying her but she was helpless to stop it; the assault of memories too close to the surface to control. "She never thought of anything working the other way around. She didn't even try."
"Maybe she just thought it was for the best. For both of you."
He took a tentative step forward, watching her closely, as if approaching an unpredictable force of nature. Her body tensed visibly but she didn't retreat further. Her face was still turned away, locked inside private turmoil.
'It's too late for us. I just think that anything we share right now is just going to be confusing for you.'
"I think I wanted to believe that too." Rachel pressed her lips together, fighting back the hurt that echoed across her mind like a taunting whisper; the tears she wouldn't let fall. Not this time. "But it doesn't change the fact that she bent all the rules to find me, not caring whose heart she stepped on, and then when things didn't play out how she imagined – she bailed."
Jesse shook his head, voice low but adamant. "It wasn't like that."
"I suppose you would know, wouldn't you?" she shot back. "The truth is that when the dream became a reality, she suddenly couldn't deal. She wanted out."
"She cared, Rachel. And yes, I do know that." He held her glare calmly, laying a quiet authority over his words. "Never being there for you…she said it was the only thing she ever regretted."
There was quiet for a moment as hesitation warred briefly over Rachel's features.
"Just not enough I guess," she muttered softly. "Not enough to accept me as I am now: not her baby anymore but a person. No, that would be too much work."
Her eyes fell to the floor between them: a gaping No-Man's land that just couldn't be breached.
"She never gave me a chance to decide how I felt. Not that it made any difference; she'd already made up her mind." Rachel's expression hardened. "Still, she got her second chance in the end. She got Quinn's little girl."
Jesse raised an eyebrow.
He'd known that Shelby had adopted shortly after Regionals, and his heart had panged for Rachel. A rash and rebellious part of him had briefly toyed with the idea of trying to get in touch, but the impulse had been quickly stamped out. Everything was still too raw and complicated, and he seriously doubted Rachel wanted anything to do with him ever again. He didn't want to salt any more wounds.
He'd had to watch his tongue for days, for fear he would say something he would regret to their coach; sparking a confrontation that would be hardly productive to winning Nationals. He couldn't be sure, but she'd seemed to sense his reluctance to engage, and outside of rehearsals she'd pretty much left him to his own devices for the following few weeks.
Neither openly acknowledged it, but the whole affair had gradually become an unspoken rift; a strain on their relationship that never quite recovered. Yet both remained fiercely professional to the core; they were still working together towards a common goal and in the chaos of the rush to Nationals, it meant that it all kind of got pushed to one side.
Still, he didn't know it was Quinn's baby. Life had a funny sense of irony sometimes.
Rachel didn't notice his reaction, still absently studying her bedroom carpet. She almost shrugged, a tight smile quirking her lips for a moment. "Even I didn't see that coming, but it seems fitting doesn't it? She'll finally get that perfect connection; that special mother-daughter relationship that she missed out on. That's all that ever really mattered in the end, isn't it? It was always just about her."
Jesse frowned at the pain in her voice, and thought, not for the first time, that Rachel would have been so much better off if he and Shelby had never come into her life; knotting things up with their own convoluted webs of motives.
But they had. And she was right: he was too selfish to let her go now.
"She never wanted to hurt you, Rachel."
A bitter smile twisted her lips. "I seem to recall you saying the same thing. Funny how fast idle words are forgotten; how quick you both turn on others when it suits you."
She glanced up, fixing him with an astute glare that would easily break any less skilled performer. But Jesse's expression didn't even falter.
"She trained you well, didn't she? Her favourite protégée: who pulled off his part flawlessly and walked away unscathed. You both had such a penchant for empty promises and easy heartbreak; always looking out for yourselves at the end of the day." Rachel laughed softly, but the sound was hollow; broken. "She must have been so proud."
He narrowed his eyes slightly, refusing to back away from the challenge despite the fact he couldn't deny the layer of truth in her words.
Jesse had always lived by a somewhat Machiavellian code of conduct. He knew how to play the political game; how to perfect subtle manipulations to get what he wanted; how to survive and propel himself forward at the expense of others. It was a skill he had been honing all his life. But somehow, getting called out on it by Rachel sparked some resentment deep inside him; a defensive anger that felt almost like guilt.
How had what'd started out as a careless favour, somehow turned into his greatest deception? At that moment, Jesse cursed Shelby for ever putting him in this unforeseeable position; hated himself for ever being so cavalier about his role within this bitter triangle of messy feelings.
Jesse ran a hand through his hair in a rare gesture of frustration. None of this was meant to happen; none of this had panned out like they'd anticipated. Rachel and Shelby were meant to forge a connection that justified all the effort he had put into his performance, and he was meant to disappear to L.A. and never glance back; reflecting on the whole experience as nothing but an amusing anecdote.
The confusion was irritating him so he fell back to an emotion he could control. He met Rachel's eye with a sharp scowl.
"Don't make assumptions you don't understand. She signed a contract. Approaching you herself was never an option."
Rachel bristled at the condescension in his tone. "She could have waited," she pointed out. "She could have taken the time to make sure it was what she actually wanted. Maybe she could have spared us all this utter train-wreck," she retorted with growing volume, throwing her arms out.
She didn't give him a chance to respond, her dramatic nature getting the better of her. "She used you too. Doesn't that bother you? You were nothing more than a ploy in her scheme; an expendable distraction," she taunted, lashing out with an anger raw enough to draw blood. "She used you to find me and you never thought twice about helping her force her way into my life. You were just as selfish as each other. And then when it was over, when she didn't need you anymore, you simply dropped me – just like she did. A hell of a double act."
The words left a sour taste in the air. When it became clear he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of a visible reaction, Rachel plunged deeper, powerless to pull back.
"It was all a lie from the beginning; every word that fell from your mouth, just part of a carefully planned script for your little drama." She restrained a strange desire to laugh. "They warned me, you know. Everyone said you were in it for all the wrong reasons; that you were only playing me. But I still let you in. I still let you break my heart."
Her fingernails were cutting white crescents into her bare arms, but she didn't release his gaze. "Such an easy target, wasn't I? You had me so convinced." Her voice dropped lower but the fire burned harder in her eyes; daring him to defend his actions. "Did it ever mean anything to you? Was any of it real?"
Jesse clenched his jaw almost painfully, but held his silence. He couldn't look away from the heated accusation in her stare; from everything that was there reflecting back at him. Like a mirror that confronted him with the worst shadows in his soul.
Again, he could sense her trying to read the truth in his eyes; studying him with that unnerving ability of hers. Jesse found himself torn between breaking contact to better protect his guard, and the dangerous urge to drop it altogether.
Rachel shook her head slowly. "I don't understand. Why didn't you just tell me and have done with it?"
"It wasn't my place to tell you."
"It wasn't your place at all," she protested harshly. "You had no right. Why did you ever agree to go along with it?"
Jesse mentally grimaced as the fateful conversation in Shelby's car flashed through his mind. He decided to skirt over the considerably less noble motives behind his compliance.
"Shelby trusted me," he admitted finally. "I felt like I owed her."
"I trusted you."
He watched as Rachel instantly winced, like she wished she could take the whisper back. Her gaze broke from his, and he swallowed hard against the violent ache that kicked inside his chest; recoiling away from the blow of those few, simple words.
He'd known. Of course he had. But he'd buried the uncomfortable truth away; drowned it under tides of ruthless ambition and easy arrogance; worn it down until he could convince himself it didn't matter at all. He should've felt pleased really: it was what he'd set out to accomplish after all. Testament to his talent.
Loyalty to Shelby and Vocal Adrenaline had always come first. It was all he'd known. They were his ticket to success – breaking one girl's trust didn't weigh anything against that. But somewhere along the way, Rachel's value had subtly shifted, tipping the scales of Jesse's ordered world into chaos.
The reproach in her words was sorely evident: he'd chosen to honour his agreement with Shelby over his relationship with Rachel. And she was right.
Jesse sighed, a touch of impatience in his tone. "I can't speak for Shelby, Rachel. She can fight her own battles. But I know that she had her reasons for doing what she did. You may not like it, but it doesn't make her a bad person. She isn't the villain of the piece, no matter how badly you want to make her one. Things are never that black and white once you get out in the real world."
Rachel stiffened but didn't turn back to face him. She cast her eyes thoughtfully over the Les Misérables poster on her bedroom wall, carefully delving through the double layer in his verse: the complex notes and hidden meanings that made up the spoken songs they communicated in.
"Maybe," she conceded, before smiling sadly to herself. "Then again, maybe some people are just unredeemable."
The familiar words tore through them both, yet neither acknowledged it.
"I guess I should have realised how little I meant to you. I should have suspected sooner that our relationship was based on nothing but a riddle of lies; should have seen the puppeteer behind the strings."
She looked over and met his gaze with quiet defiance.
"I mean, it took – what? A whole three days after that tape for you to throw everything back in my face; to show your true colours and revert to form. Didn't waste any time, did you?" Her voice lowered, regret tightening behind her eyes. "I should have listened to the others. I should have never given you the chance to break me."
The memory stung through her mind, catching her unprepared. A thorn twist that was embedded too deep to heal completely. "She may have told you to start it, but nothing excuses how you ended it." She caught his expression and felt a touch of vindicated satisfaction at the twinge that crossed his face. "It was low…even for you."
Jesse glanced away from her, a subtle frown on his features as he fought through his own thoughts. Granted, it wasn't exactly a shining moment, but it wasn't as if he'd had a choice. New Directions were never going to win Regionals, and he wasn't prepared to risk his future on a whim. That had never been a part of the plan. His relentless ambition had always defined him – his dreams were worth more than anything and he refused to compromise them for anyone. That just wasn't who Jesse was.
Rachel, of all people, should've understood that about him. It was a fundamental truth about them both, and he was sure she would have made the same call if it were her dreams on the line.
A leader was a precarious position at the best of times. Even though she should have appreciated that from her role within New Directions, the truth was that they were worlds apart in some ways. Yes, she had the responsibility of motivating, guiding and pulling her team to the top, but it was a job that no-one had ever really challenged her on before.
Vocal Adrenaline was a whole other level. Competition and rival ambition was fierce, a clash of egos and temper on a sometimes epic scale. No-one had yet bothered to fight Rachel for that limelight, but for Jesse he knew that it required a subtle balance; a constant battle to retain respect and superiority. It was easy to navigate the ripping currents when you were riding the crest of the wave, but the second you slipped under, they could so quickly be the end of you. It was an underlying risk that he'd almost relished: a true test of skill and charisma that he'd excelled at to such a degree that not even his brief abandonment had threatened his position seriously.
Not that there hadn't been a price to pay.
He'd known it was coming but somehow he'd hoped that it would stop with New Directions; that they wouldn't try to push him further, force him to burn that last bridge. But they were his team after all – and they had learnt from the best.
And so he'd made the call, said his line and plastered that traitorous smile on his face as he waved her onto their stage for one last time. The cost of his reparation.
He'd never had a choice. Everything had a hierarchy; rules and expectations that had to be abided by. He had to re-establish his authority beyond question; squash rumours of weakness before they could start, particularly about Rachel. Everyone knew that about him. Jesse St. James didn't fall. Especially not for a girl like her; someone they considered so far below them.
He had to prove himself to his team. Show that he was still a true blooded member; that he was still the boy they had known and followed all those years. He had to reclaim his rightful place as a leader and national champion; whatever it took. Appearances were everything in his world and Jesse had learned to live in masks and show faces very quickly in life; so much so that it became hard to draw the line sometimes. A line that Rachel Berry had come very close to crossing, without even realising.
He had to prove it to himself. Prove that she hadn't cracked his defences; that she hadn't become a fatal weakness. Prove to himself that he could turn his back and walk away, move on with the rest of his predictably successful life; her presence nothing but a vague memory at the back of his mind.
So he'd thrown her down at their mercy with a stubborn, selfish resolve. He chose his team and his future like he had always done; chosen to stand and watch that last glimmer of warmth fade from her eyes: something that had been strong enough to survive his turncoat performance; something that had brought her running across that parking lot with an unabashed smile of relief.
Something that had taken him almost a year to accept the true worth of.
Rachel studied him in his silence: the tense lines of his body and dark clouds in his eyes, so familiar yet so much harder than she remembered. Maybe she wasn't the only one who had done some rough growing up.
"Why did you come back?"
A strange, wistful smile touched his lips for the briefest of moments. Rachel frowned, struggling with her own confusion; trying to make sense of the discordant music between her head and her heart.
A sudden thought struck through her mind like whiplash. Her eyes widened before abruptly narrowing with incredulity. "Did she ask you to come here? Is she the reason for this little trip down memory lane? Still doing her dirty work."
Jesse's gaze found hers, cool and restrained against her biting anger.
"No," he said quietly. His reasons were his own this time.
"Why should I believe you?" she challenged. But he could tell that she did, albeit reluctantly. "I wouldn't put anything past either of you. It's not like she hasn't hidden behind pawns before." Rachel laid a mocking emphasis on the insult, needling his ego; the one vulnerability she knew of.
"I haven't spoken to Shelby in months."
It wasn't a lie. Jesse had lost touch with his old coach since college; both of them letting the physical distance deepen their estrangement, almost by mutual, unspoken agreement. He watched as surprise flickered briefly across her expression, before settling into a grim smile.
"Well, that makes two of us I guess." Rachel looked away, letting her gaze drift back across her rumpled bed covers but not really seeing it. "Anyway, she's busy enjoying her real family. Being the mom she always wanted to be. Wouldn't want to intrude."
"You might feel differently one day," he reasoned slowly, not sure what else he could say that could possibly make amends for all the wronged pain she had carried for the past year. The scars he had helped inflict. "Things can change."
Rachel shook her head. "No. She made it very evident that our lives are too separate; that we're better off out of each others worlds. She just figured it out a little late." She stared down at the carpet under her feet, body cold and closed off. "Why would I ever want to invite that deceit and heartache back into my life? Especially when I know I'm not really wanted." Her voice turned stony with resolve. "She was right. It was a mistake. All of it."
She missed the subtle flex of his jaw, the flicker in his eyes, as the impact of the pointed words settled between them. A vain wish that was out of either's power to grant. They couldn't undo what had passed; couldn't rewrite history. They were a part of each other's stories now, whether they liked it or not.
He was all too aware that she desperately wished he had never happened to her life; believed that everything they'd shared had been purely for show: only a professional veneer that covered the true manipulations at work underneath. And she had all the justification in the world to think so.
Except for the one thing he would never admit: that somewhere between the drama and theatrics; somewhere in the midst of the quiet and insignificant moments stolen behind the scenes; hidden within unconscious gestures and easy smiles – life had come to imitate art for Jesse.
His gaze swept over her form before narrowing softly on her averted face, silently asking her to meet his eyes. "You have your dads." He carefully held the touch of bitterness from his voice as he gently reminded her of just how lucky she actually was. "Isn't that enough?"
"It was always enough," she corrected sharply. A faint frown creased her expression before she quickly turned her face away. "Doesn't mean it didn't hurt."
"Rachel…" The impulse was too strong and he stepped forward without thinking, reaching out for her.
She flinched away from his touch as if it were a physical pain. He immediately dropped his hand and could only watch as she turned her back to him; the planes of her shoulders stiff and unforgiving.
"Just go, Jesse."
The quiet words stretched into the silence, damning and final. She heard him hesitate and for a second she thought he was going to refuse, but then she felt him move; crossing to her door in a few quick strides. Rachel stayed rooted to the spot, not daring to look up, until she was absolutely certain she was once more alone in the empty house.
She took a few slow, deep breaths, trying to keep her head above the waves of water that surged up through her chest. Whoever said that the truth was meant to bring you peace of mind, be cathartic for the soul, must have been seriously deluded. Rachel felt utterly lost; like a stranger inside her own mind.
Words echoed around the now quiet bedroom, bringing with them a seeping coldness that slowly crept under her skin: angry accusations and confused demands; bitter taunts and veiled truths; painful memories dragged up and ripped apart until there was nothing left. Every fabrication of their relationship torn down and revealed as the cruel sham that it was.
It had been a confrontation that was well overdue, but Rachel didn't feel at all how she expected she would. She felt no closure; no relief; no sense of justice or clarifying epiphany. She felt exhausted, conflicted, cheated and unsatisfied. She felt broken. Still.
How could so much have been said, yet even more remained unspoken?
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she went over to her chest of drawers and knelt down. Sliding open the bottom one, she rummaged around in the contents; digging down, until from amongst the old shirts and pyjamas, she carefully pulled out a small cassette.
From mother to daughter.
Rachel turned the case over slowly in her fingers, running her thumb across the hand-written message that had once meant so much.
She had wanted to throw it away so many times, but could never quite bring herself to. She hadn't listened to it in months, she wasn't sure she ever wanted to again, but she couldn't quite bear not to have the option. To listen once more to her beautiful voice and sing along softly; to close her eyes and remember back and maybe imagine, just for a moment, if things were different. She swallowed heavily, her fingertips cutting into the sharp edges.
The tape Shelby had slipped to her via Jesse. The reason behind the whole charade: his lies and his love and his betrayal. She studied the simple object almost thoughtfully, wondering how something so small could have screwed up her life so much. Finally, with a sigh, she laid it gently back in the drawer.
When her dads arrived home a few hours later, Rachel tackled them at the bottom of the stairs in a hug that was so hard and so long, that by the end they were quite convinced she had something terrible to tell them. Yet their daughter only laughed brokenly at their questions, bright eyes shimmering, before burying herself back in their embrace. Her dads exchanged a look of bemused concern over her head. Still, they knew how prone to the dramatic their daughter was, and so they only continued to stroke her hair and hold her close; simply being there for her like they had done all her life.
Even so, after she'd calmed down, it took her a good hour to convince them she wasn't in some sort of trouble, traumatised or pregnant.
~o~
AN: This story has actually become an addiction; it's not good for my health. Sleep deprivation is becoming an issue. I'm still not over London yet! Wicked was absolutely epic; it left me kind of speechless! I think I've found my new favourite musical :) I would happily move to the West End just to get to go to the theatre every night. Anyway, enough of my gushing. So just to clarify, I've kept the sequence of events as it was originally intended to air: i.e "Funk" happened before "Theatricality". I was annoyed that they decided to switch them in the first place, and consequently having to cut all of Jesse's scenes in that episode. Not cool, Fox. Now, I know that with the switch and just general lack of consistency that makes Glee such a frustrating joy to watch, the issue of how much Rachel actually learned about the true circumstances of Jesse's role was left pretty open and ambiguous. This is simply my interpretation.
Let me know what you think? It makes it all worth it :) Thanks for reading.
Now, I kinda have to catch up on over a week's worth of sleep, so excuse me while I go over and collapse in the corner.