By the time the cab pulled up to Shelby's apartment Beth's eyes had closed and she was asleep. Will smiled at Rachel and, silently, they managed to get out of the taxi without waking the sleeping girl. Rachel headed to the door and Will opened it, guiding her and the sleeping toddler into the hallway.
"Thanks," she whispered to him as he opened the door to the apartment, and she carried Beth into the room. Rachel walked down the hallway, and felt Will's footsteps echo hers as she stepped into the nursery. He moved in front of her, lowering the crib as he'd done the first time they'd put her to bed, and she set Beth down.
Looking up at him with a gentle smile, Rachel felt a flutter as he returned the gesture before they both removed a shoe and set them on the dresser. With her head tilted gently to the side she watched as he pressed a kiss to Beth's forehead before standing back up and looking at Rachel. Will turned to leave but she stayed to watch Beth, for just a second longer.
With a blush she looked to the door and, seeing that he'd left, she kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to Beth's injured knee before pulling the soft blanket up and leaving the room.
Will was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter when she reached the end of the hallway. He was on the phone, smiling, but when she walked in he looked up. "Sounds great, Finn. Thanks for checking in." He hung up the phone and pushed off from the counter, standing in front of her. "That was Finn."
"Is everything all right?"
Nodding, he said, "Yeah. He, uh, he wanted to know how you were doing." Will's eyes were shifty, and she wondered what that meant, why he was so uncomfortable.
"What," she was hesitant, not looking at him as she asked, "What did you tell him?"
"That Shelby was still unconscious, but the doctors were hopeful." He cleared his throat and turned, went to the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of water. "Want some water?"
She nodded, and walked around the counter to pull two glasses down. "And what did he say?" She had promised herself she wasn't going to go after Finn again, not to date, but his opinion still meant a lot to her.
"He asked me to have you call him, when you got a chance."
She felt uncomfortable, suddenly, and she was grateful for the distraction of the drink in her hand as she took a sip. Setting it down on the counter she trailed her fingers up the side, mumbling, "That's strange," before looking up at him from under her lashes.
He shifted, putting the pitcher away before he spoke, his tone as low as hers had been, "He cares about you, Rachel." She watched as he took a drink, not meeting her eyes. "Like you still care about him, I suppose."
It felt like he was fishing for something, and she watched him as she took the bait. "Of course, that makes sense. Our budding friendship is something I rather enjoy, even if it hurts, occasionally."
Her words seemed to ease something, so when he turned to go to the couch she followed him. They both took their spots on opposite ends, and Will picked up the remote. Flipping through channels, she inwardly groaned as boredom started to hit. She'd had so much responsibility suddenly that it was tiring, but right now there was nothing happening, and she felt restless.
Her book sat on the coffee table, but the thought didn't hold her interest. Instead she stretched out on the couch, her bare feet making it a little past her cushion and onto the one between them. She held her breath a second, hoping she wasn't invading his space, but he just looked down at her painted white toenails with a twitch of his lips.
His eyes slid back to the TV, still trying to find something, and stretched his own legs out behind hers against the back of the couch. Having longer legs than she did, his feet rested by her hip, and she giggled a little at the striped socks. He didn't seem to notice, though, so she just leaned her head back, watching him.
Rachel could tell he was watching her, too, trying not to but glancing out of the corner of his eye. He finally landed on some sitcom, and looked at her. "You're staring at me." His lips were quirked and his voice was light, so she shrugged her shoulders and crossed her arms over her waist.
"I'm trying to figure out why you're such a good cook. You strike me as one of the takeout exclusive." He laughed but shook his head.
"Not exactly. But pizza's a nice solution to laziness, sometimes." Flexing her toes she pressed them against the cushion and waited for a real answer. "Terri wasn't much of a chef."
His eyes lowered and she felt bad for bringing it up, but talking like this was nice, and she wanted to keep doing it. "I'm sorry to hear that. So you learned how to cook to save yourself from ramen?" He laughed.
"Exactly. I'd had enough of that in college."
"What were you like in college?"
Now he shifted, pulling his legs back a little, like she was going to attack any exposed part of him. He chuckled, but it sounded too forced, and she knew he was uncomfortable. "Uh, I guess like I am now, really. You're awfully curious right now."
Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear and crossed her legs at the ankles. "I'm always curious, Will." He smirked, but didn't seem to relax. "I guess, I just like talking to you."
Finally his shoulders eased, and his face softened with a loose smile. "I like talking to you, too, Rachel." His laugh was real as he stuck out his chin and groaned. "OK, I wasn't quite like I am, now. I was full of energy, and in love, and very optimistic."
"You're still optimistic, Will." It all felt so personal, calling him by his name and making statements about what he was like, as if she knew him. But he just smiled, nodded a little, and she thought that maybe she was right, maybe she did know him.
"I guess I am. It's different, though." The glint in his eye was dimming, and she nudged his knee with her toes.
"You're hurt, right now. But you're still the same guy." With a shrug, she picked at her hem and looked down. "You were that guy when I first met you."
"Ah. That feels like forever ago, doesn't it." He was deflecting but she was fine with it, as long as he was still talking with her, about her, even. About them.
"It certainly does. I haven't posted a MySpace video in months." Will laughed, deeply, and she nudged him again. "Hey! That doesn't make me a loser, you know, trying to put myself out there." She was trying to be playful, but the quiver in her voice gave her away and she blinked, grateful when her hair fell around her face like a curtain.
"Hey," he nudged her this time, with his foot against her thigh. "I don't think you're a loser. Putting yourself out there—it's great. Don't ever stop trying, Rach."
His words were meant to comfort her, and they did, but he also shifted the spotlight back to himself. "Did you stop, Will? Stop trying?"
He gulped, and picked up the remote, flipping channels as a commercial came on. She ignored the flashing and kept her eyes trained on him. "I didn't realize I had. But—"
She rested her hand gently on his calf, covered in dark wash denim. "When you married Mrs. Sch—Terri?" She tested his ex-wife's name on her lips, found it tasted bittersweet.
The TV shut off abruptly and he set the remote on the table. "Yes. Alright?" She jerked her hand back and he groaned, running his hands over his face. "Rachel, I'm sorry." She smiled, understanding.
"I know. I'm sorry I pushed. You just seem unhappy, lately." He gulped. "I thought maybe you wanted to talk about it, with someone." He was watching her, still. "People don't realize it, but I can actually be a very good listener."
Finally, he dropped his hands to his lap and shook his head, but said, "I think," he hesitated again, and she knew he was conflicted about sharing with her, sharing with a student. But she had to be more than that now, she just had to.
"I think I am. Unhappy." His words were crisp and he gulped, his Adam's apple prominent over the t-shirt collar.
She wanted to tell him that they all loved him, glee did, but she'd just told him she was a good listener. And, for some reason, she knew the words would change things, now that she was sharing a couch and calling him Will.
Her hand dropped back to his leg, and her thumb brushed the denim, slowly. "It's not glee—actually, it's everything around glee." He was looking down, at nothing, and she froze, terrified to move and keep him from sharing with her. "But after glee I go home, and I grade a few papers, and then it's over. I have nothing to do."
She waited a moment, made sure he was finished, and then, slowly, "I'm sorry, Will." She knew what he meant—other than homework her nights were pretty uneventful. Occasionally Kurt or Mercedes would want to go somewhere with her, but Kurt had Blaine and Mercedes was still a little hesitant to be with her, just the two of them. When she wasn't dating someone, Rachel was quite bored. In fact, she reasoned, that might even be the reason she dated, partly. "I know what you mean."
He looked back at her now, and she thought he was searching her face for confirmation, that she did, in fact, know what he meant. "I don't have friends, not really. I'm actually bored a lot of the time."
She caught the movement of his chest, and she scratched gently at the material under her nails. "I am, too." His words fell between them, neither added to it or withdrew, just let the next level of common ground settle between them.
Will cleared her throat and she wondered if he was uncomfortable with her touching him, so clearly without purpose. But when she looked over at him his own eyes were downcast, near her ankle. She thought that, if her legs were a little longer, he might be doing the same.
"I know it's little consolation, but glee makes up for it, most the time." She was crediting him as she said it, hoped he understood that.
"Me, too." His tone matched hers and she was grateful. Rachel leaned the side of her head against the back of the couch, and pulled her legs up a little, until she slid her foot under the back of his knee.
It was oddly intimate, the weight of his leg over her foot, and he sucked in a breath but didn't retreat. Instead, he said, "I didn't mean to stop trying. It just happened. Terri got a job and I started to teach at McKinley. We both wanted a family."
She watched her hand on his calf and nodded. Her fingers slid off of the denim slowly, and onto the top of his foot, the material of the sock a strange transition. "I'd been doing local theatre during my spare time, but I had to stop."
The air between them had softened, and as she ran a finger up the arch of his foot he flexed his toes, and she asked, "What changed?"
Her head was leaned sideways and her hair had fallen off of her shoulder. The air of the apartment was cool on her neck and she wondered if he was looking at her exposed skin, found herself wishing he was. "Terri, she started to resent me never being home. And I realized I had to choose between family and performing."
Rachel's foot was getting tingly under his knee and she pulled it toward her, sliding it the length of his calf until her feet were resting under his ankles. "I chose family, but planned to go back. And then I just never did."
She looked up to his face, saw his eyes heavy as she rested her hands on his leg again. Rachel remembered the visit from Bryan Ryan, and how he'd given up his return to theatre for them, for her. "When glee came along, it was my chance, and I took it."
Rachel wondered if that was why he had gotten divorced, because of glee. "Do you regret it?"
"Not at all, actually. I regret a lot of choices I've made, but not that one."
She smiled, and he did, and the strange haze was starting to lift between them. "I meant it, when I told you I was happy you didn't become an accountant."
"I know." He pulled his legs back and she felt a sudden loss. But then he was reaching his hand out after he stood, holding it out for her to take. She did, and he pulled her to standing, right in front of him.
They were holding hands, and there was no noise, just their soft breath between each other, as they stood by the couch. Rachel resisted the urge to squeeze his hand, and asked, "But you're not unhappy now, here?"
She remembered his words that first night, when he'd inadvertently hurt her as he clarified that it was because of Beth, not her. He looked a little uncomfortable, but he smiled, sadly, and dropped her hand. She waited for the repetition of the words, waited for him to tell her, again, that it wasn't because of her.
His hand rose between them, took a piece of her hair and slid, slowly down her hairline to tuck it behind her ear, gently. "Not now, no."
Before she could breathe again he was gone, walking down the hallway and into Beth's room. With heated cheeks she went into the kitchen, and drank the rest of her glass of water. They way he had looked at her, had touched her so sweetly, made her think back to that first night, when he'd told her it was because of Beth. Rachel remembered how he'd looked over at her from across the couch and smiled, before clarifying.
The smiles had been the same, then and now, and she started to wonder if maybe it had been a lie, meant to disguise that she, too, was part of his happiness.
She shivered. The moment had meant something, and though she wasn't sure what, yet, she knew it was building. She was getting so close to an answer, it was taking form in her mind, and she felt pressure low in her stomach at the thought.
Beth's toddler talk was the first think she heard, and when she turned she saw her in Will's arms. "I think it's time for lunch," Will said, and set her in the high chair.
His face was unreadable, showing no reaction to their conversation, but she didn't take it personally. It was past the point of her assuming he was trying to hurt her, or worse, that he didn't care.
He cared, she knew that after how he'd talked with her, and held her, and helped her. His expression of neutrality was to save both of them, she thought, though she still couldn't be certain from what, exactly.
Will pulled a bag of bread from the shelf over the counter and pulled out a few slices of bread. "Peanut butter sandwiches?"
"Sounds great," she said softly, stroking Beth's hair back down from its mussed sleep status. He started to spread the creamy substance on the wheat bread, and she busied herself getting Beth's juice and plates and refilling their glasses of water.
As he put three sandwiches together he asked, "Crusts or no crusts?" She held out Beth's plate as he cut hers into four equal triangles.
"Crusts, please." He smiled, and stacked theirs together, cutting them down the middle, before giving each of the other two plates a full sandwich. While she took their plates to the counter, Will handed Beth hers.
It was simple, being here, eating lunch with Will and Beth. She realized it had never felt this easy before, with anyone else, any of the guys she'd dated. "I was supposed to call Finn!" She realized, and set the plates down. When he glanced at her over his shoulder she could have sworn something crossed his face before he nodded and turned back to the toddler.
Rachel headed down the hall, into Shelby's room. It wasn't necessary, not really for a short phone call. But after their talk she didn't really want Will to think about her and Finn, together. It was a tightening in her chest she'd rather avoid.
Dialing his number she held the phone to her ear, sitting down on the edge of Shelby's bed. She'd left the door open, and from her position, if she leaned forward just a little, she could see Will, sitting in front of Beth's high chair, his back to her.
"Uh, hey." There was a lot of noise on the other end of the line, mostly from the rumble of the bus, however she could hear several bouts of laughter.
"Hi, Finn. Wi—Mr. Schue said you wanted to talk to me?" It was shocking, she thought, how quickly she'd slipped into calling him by his first name. The idea that she'd have to go back to calling him Mr. Schuester again in a few days left her mouth a little dry.
"Yeah, Rach. We just wanted to know how you were doing, with everything." It touched her, it really did, that her teammates were actually asking about her. And it really was about her—it wasn't about her relationship (because it affected the team), or her voice (because it most definitely affected the team). They were asking about her.
Her breath caught and she remembered why she kept falling for Finn. Because of things like this—it wasn't too often, but when he made her feel loved, she saw stars and hearts and wanted to doodle Mrs. Rachel Berry-Hudson in notebooks because Berry was too good of a stage name to give up completely for any man.
But he'd burned her, too many times now, and being friends, well, sometimes it felt almost as good. She was going to have to learn to have some patience. "I'm doing fine. Thank you guys, for being so helpful about everything. And for not throwing a crazy party, or ruining anything in the hotel."
Finn laughed and those hearts lingered behind her eyes. "Yeah, Rach. Except we did, sorta."
The hearts faded a little more. "What?" Her voice was raised and she glanced out the door, waited for Will to turn and look at her but he didn't.
"No, we didn't trash the place! We just," his voice lowered, too. "We had a little party. Quinn, you know, she was really bummed. Especially after you came to the hotel with Beth."
Rachel knew he wasn't trying to hurt her, but he was. "I'm sorry." It felt easier to apologize like this, with Finn as the mediator still.
"Nah, Quinn's not mad at you, I don't think. And she's fine. Plus Kurt and Mercedes didn't drink, and we didn't break anything." His voice was trailing off and she knew it was dawning on him that he shouldn't have told her anything. Thinking of their friendship, she wanted to tell him it wasn't a big deal. But she looked down the hallway again and thought about how they put their director in a really bad position.
"OK, that's good, I guess. And you're all being really respectful of Ms. Pillsbury?"
Finn scoffed, laughed a little. "Geez, Rach, you sound like Mr. Schue." The laughter was getting louder on the bus, and Rachel sighed, realizing she was being a little hard on them. Before she could say anything, he asked, "How is it?"
She giggled a little as a little arm came into her sightline behind Will, and dropped a peanut butter sandwich triangle. "What do you mean?"
"Like, living with a teacher, and stuff. Taking care of," he hesitated, and she could see him, sitting in a bus seat, his hand in his pocket, his shoulders hunched awkwardly as he looked around for Quinn, "a baby?"
Will's low laugh echoed down the hallway as he reached his hand toward Beth with her sippy cup. "It's," she had no idea how to finish that sentence. Living with Will and Beth was, well, "like playing house, I guess."
She gulped, bit her tongue as if that could take it back. It felt like too much to share with Finn, when she was so uncertain of all of it herself. "Huh, I guess it's 'cause you're a chick, and you like that kind of stuff."
Looking down the hall again, she felt her eyes soften, her shoulders drop a little. Will was picking Beth up, out of the high chair, and after kissing her cheek, he set her down. When he turned to watch Beth toddle into the living room she could see the absentminded smile on his lips. "Yeah, I guess that's why."
"Well, I'm glad you're alright, Rachel. Oh, Quinn wants to talk to you. Is," he paused and her eyes widened, "that cool with you?"
"Yeah, of course it is, Finn." There was a rustling on the other end as he handed the phone over, and she shifted on the bed, picking at the hem of her skirt. Quinn had been fine, sweet even, in the hotel, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.
"Rachel?" There was more shifting and the laughter in the background got quieter, like Quinn was moving away from the rest of the group.
"Hi, Quinn. How are you?" She didn't want to assume familiarity, tried to stay conversational.
"I'm doing much better, thanks. Finn says you're doing alright?" Rachel nodded, even though Quinn couldn't see her, but her question wasn't really a question so much as a formality. "And," Rachel knew where this was going, prayed that Quinn wouldn't ask. Beth went to the hotel twice, and half of the times Quinn had a panic attack and the other half resulted in a kind of friendship between the two teens. Quinn's reaction was too much of a gamble.
"How is Beth doing?"
"She's fine, I think. She's quiet, but she's eating and sleeping." Rachel wondered if she should lie to Quinn, and tell her that Beth had said her name last night when she was being put to bed or something equally endearing. But that was even more of a gamble, and to risk it all for a lie would be too much.
"That's," Rachel's breath hitched, "that's great, Rachel. I'm glad she's so comfortable, with you and Mr. Schue."
There was no hint of bitterness in her words, and Rachel breathed out, "Thank you, Quinn," before she could stop herself.
"We told Mr. Schue to pass on a hug from all of us." Quinn's voice was airier, and the laughter was getting closer again. Quinn was moving back toward the rest of them, about to hang up. Rachel felt a jolt of relief. "He did, right?"
With a little laugh she confirmed, "Yeah, he did. Tell everyone I really," needed it, "appreciate it," she settled for.
"OK, Finn's getting a text."
"Oh, sure. Thanks, Quinn. For keeping everyone from getting out of hand." Quinn laughed a little, and told Rachel to thank Mr. Schuester, too, before she hung up.
Rachel sat on the bed for a moment, a strange sense of accomplishment in her chest. When she stood she brushed her hands down her skirt before walking down the hall. Will was sitting in the living room, a little closer to the middle of the couch than in his corner, and both of their plates and glasses were on the coffee table.
"Quinn wanted me to thank you," Rachel said, walking into the living room and rounding the couch. She looked down at both plates, and saw that he'd added the fruit from breakfast and some tortilla chips. Beside her glass of water was a mug, and as she stood by the coffee table she could see the string of a teabag hanging out.
"That's very nice of her," and Rachel felt a sudden stab of jealousy, remnants, she figured, of Thursday morning. Rachel looked down, saw her plate seated in a little from the edge of the coffee table, closer to him than she'd need to be, and the tea he'd bought and made for her. She felt the jealousy drain from her and she smiled, instead.
"You didn't have to wait for me," she blushed, her hair a curtain again, and she sat down in between the middle and corner cushions, leaving about two feet between them.
"No problem. I made some tea, I didn't know if—"
"I was just thinking about having some." Rachel looked up, saw him watching his plate, and realized how close together they actually were. Thought about how he put them this close. Rachel thought about what Quinn had asked, if Will had hugged her. He hadn't, but now, she thought that maybe he wanted to.
"I—" she stopped herself as she thought about how awkward it would be to hug on the couch. Knowing she'd much rather feel his arms around her, completely, she bit her tongue, decided to save it for later, when they were both standing. "It looks so good," she finished, lamely.
"Beth enjoyed it," he laughed and her tension eased as she started to eat. Will had turned on the TV, and the commercials ended to the beginning of a crime show procedural. "Do you want to watch something else? Shelby has some DVDs on the shelf over there." Rachel followed where he was pointing, and saw a small collection on the shelves.
Setting down the sandwich half in her hand she stood, went over to scan the titles. There were a lot of musicals, of course, some kid's shows, and several older films. Rachel thought about how he'd been choosing musicals, perhaps as common ground, and ran her finger over the edge of the row, trying to decide. Her forefinger hovered over Annie, but she dismissed the thought quickly, as the idea of Grace and Daddy Warbucks taking care of a girl that wasn't theirs floated through her mind.
Rachel closed her fingers around a case, finally, and raised her eyebrows as she showed him. "Wizard of Oz?"
"Sure," he said with a small, relieved laugh, and she wondered if he saw her hesitate on the other spine. She slipped the DVD into the player, ruffling Beth's hair as she kneeled down to reach the disk tray. Beth just looked up at her as she walked back to the couch before going back to coloring on the floor.
Rachel took her seat on the couch, inching ever so slightly closer to his side as she did. He said nothing, just snacked on his chips, and she took a drink from her tea.
He hit play and they watched, quietly, and finished their lunches. Rachel tried to chew silently, the noise feeling almost deafening in the quiet beginning of the movie. When she looked at him in the corner of her eye, she saw that he was doing the same.
When she finished, she shifted, before looking over to find him finished, too. "I can take your plate," and he didn't argue, just smiled as he handed it to her. Rinsing the crumbs and fruit remnants off, she couldn't help but wonder at the surprised look on his face a moment when she offered. Rachel had met Terri, of course, in their home, even, and Rachel knew she seemed like she avoided housework (pawned it off on Rachel, she remembered with a sting), but now she was wondering to what extent, exactly.
Rachel turned to go back to the couch, but was stopped as Will stood in front of her. "Hey," her voice was raised, curious.
"Do you want some animal crackers?" Rachel giggled at the question and he smiled back, stepping next to her against the counter to reach into the cabinet. He came back with a box of animal crackers, and after opening the package he took a few and handed the red box to her.
She took it, smiling still, and scanned the ingredients before taking a few for herself and handing the box back. He hummed a little in appreciation before turning to go back to the couch, and she followed. When he went over to Beth she was grateful, and she sat down quickly, so that he would have to sit down after, place himself. She was curious as to how close he would sit.
Beth took the cookie from him and he stroked her back before coming back to sit down on the couch. Her breath caught as he lowered himself less than a foot away, and put his feet up on the coffee table. With his head leaned back against the couch he ate another cookie and offered her the box.
"Thanks," she giggled again, and she was certain the cause was his proximity this time. As the tornado turned on screen they passed the box back and forth, until she found a camel cookie. "I hate the camel ones."
He rolled his head to her with raised eyebrows, and let out a low laugh. "Why?"
She inspected it, not quite sure herself, until she squinted her eyes at the cookie and said, "The bump is so inconvenient. All of the other animals are fairly evenly shaped, but the camel sticks out." She blushed, suddenly realizing that she'd just said the most unnecessary, silly thing she could have, but he just laughed.
"Trade for a," he looked into the box and pulled out a cookie, "polar bear?" She nodded and he held out the cookie between them. With a tentative hand she took it, and gave him her camel cookie.
"Thanks," she smiled at him. When he smiled back she ducked her head and ate the cookie, before matching his pose, with her (much shorter) legs on the table and her head against the back of the couch.
Movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye and she looked down to find Beth, standing by the couch and tugging at her skirt. "What, sweetie?"
Beth pushed at Rachel's leg and pointed at the box of cookies, making noises. "Here you go, Beth. Last one, though," and he leaned toward the little girl, hand outstretched with a cookie. His chest was close to her arm and she felt her eyelashes flutter, embarrassed at the thrill it sent through her.
The little girl went back to her spot and Will closed the box, setting it on the coffee table between them. After, the room fell quiet as Will and Rachel watched the movie. Rachel, for her part, was having trouble concentrating. She could smell the spicy, warm scent of his body wash and she blushed a little, remembering how it had felt to shower with that scent around.
When the munchkins appeared, Rachel caught sight of Beth watching the screen, Ariel's face abandoned on the living room floor, purple hair the only feature finished. When the colorful characters started to dance, Beth made noises, jabbering along with the characters. After a minute, Rachel realized what Beth was doing. "Beth, are you singing along?"
The toddler looked back at Rachel and stood on chubby legs, lumbering over to Rachel to tug at her again. Beth was pointing at the screen and jumping up and down, so Rachel pulled her up to the couch and sang along, smiling and nodding to let Beth to know to continue.
Rachel thought about her singing trophies from younger than Beth's age with a sudden press of superiority. Shelby may have chosen Beth, but Rachel had the talent, and Shelby would have to live with that.
With a little jump Beth landed on her knees in Rachel's lap, pressing at Rachel as Will joined in, singing. Both heads shot over at the noise and Rachel grinned, singing louder as Beth migrated toward his voice. He grabbed her sides, suddenly and she giggled, shrieked like she had earlier.
Rachel leaned her head back again as she watched them play, his hands tickling Beth's stomach as he laid her over his legs on her back. Her little feet kicked in the air and he laughed with her, before she squirmed and slid down to the ground.
Wincing, Rachel watched Beth get up immediately and run around the back of the couch, into the kitchen area. "Beth," Rachel warned playfully. But Will just got up and ran around to get her.
Behind her was a cacophony of giggling and shrieking and low rumbles of Will's voice, so Rachel stood to look at what was happening. He was on the ground, playing with her, pretending to wrangle her. He looked so free, so incredibly happy, and she decided that yes, this was his purpose: family.
"Beth! Get her!" And Rachel's eyes widened as the toddler followed his pointing finger and ran toward her. On instinct Rachel rounded the couch and shuffled out of the way down the hall. But Beth, of course, had a straight shot to her from behind the couch and Rachel couldn't run away, not really.
Beth would tag her, she would let her. But as she slowed she glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of Will scooping Beth up, holding the little girl toward Rachel with one arm, and reaching his other arm out toward her.
All at once she felt his arm around her stomach, his chest against her back, and Beth's fingers pressing into her upper arm. "No!" She shrieked, like Beth had done moments ago, and she laughed, hard, as the other two's mirth caught her up.
The musical number on screen had faded and their breath was evening out from the laughter, but he was still holding her. Beth tugged at the chain on Rachel's neck and she turned into the girl, and, by default, Will.
His hand rested on her lower back, now, and he held her close to him, closer than she'd ever been. He'd hugged her before, when they got a second chance for glee, when they won Regionals, when he gave her the award for MVP. The award with the gold star that sat in front of her mirror, now.
But each time had been fleeting, and drenched in emotion. His touch now was different, was lingering and unrushed and she savored it, the moment. Beth was pressed between them on one side, still playing with the gold star at her neck, but the side holding Rachel to him, nothing kept them apart. She was pressed almost flush against him, and she felt her eyes drop closed quickly at the heady sensation.
The body wash was stronger, now, since they were so close. But also, she thought, maybe because his pulse was racing just like hers.
Beth trying to speak brought her attention back, and Will dropped his hand from her back as Rachel gently untangled Beth's fingers from the gold. When she was freed he stepped back, set Beth down with a nuzzle and she toddled down the hallway as Will followed her.
Rachel let out an almost silent shuddering breath and licked her lips. Her head felt like it was swimming, like it was still trapped in that embrace, and she sat herself back down onto the couch. This time she made sure to edge just a bit to her corner.
That had been thrilling, his touch on her back, but it was also a little startling, how strongly she felt about the press of his fingers. It had never been like this with Finn, Jesse, Noah, even. When Finn had touched her it had been sweet, like she thought it was supposed to be when you were young and in love, all hesitant and thinking of making the other comfortable.
Jesse had been confident, had reached for her in her bedroom like it was his right. It had made her feel desirable and mature, but also a little disconnected from him, in a way. Like it was more his lips on hers than it was their lips together.
And Noah, his touch had been thrilling in that it migrated quickly. Not long after he'd asked to make out he'd had his hand on her breast, her thigh, trailing under her skirt. It had been nice, and very, very sexual. But she had to admit that it had also been a little needless. She enjoyed having Noah as a friend, enjoyed playing his girlfriend for those two or three days, but there'd been no real desire to be with him, not really.
Will, though, his touch had felt different. And not, at all, in an unpleasant way. She closed her eyes, feet planted firmly on the floor, and drifted back to the hard press of his chest, the strong forearm against her side, and the gentle palm of his hand. He'd been powerful against her, she'd felt the sheer masculinity of his embrace, and the way he held her to him, like he needed to touch all of her, all at once.
But while he'd pulled her to him and held her there, his palm had cupped her lower back softly, and the press of his fingers had been light, as though, if she were to pull back in a second, he'd let her. It was need and want and consideration, all together.
The couch sank beside her and she opened her eyes quickly, smiling bashfully at his own smile. It didn't quite reach Will's eyes, and that worried her a little. But after a minute he directed his attention to Beth sitting back down to color, and he resumed his earlier position, his legs on the table and his head leaned back. When he shifted almost imperceptibly toward her, she relaxed.
()()()
Wizard of Oz had finished and they'd watched fifteen minutes of the news because both were too comfortable to get up. But now Rachel was feeling a little restless, not used to staying still for so long, and from the push of Beth's hands on her leg, Beth felt the same way.
"What do you think of taking her for a walk?" Will looked over at her, his head still on the couch, and she realized that he seemed even closer than before. She bit her cheek after she asked, realizing she could have just said she was going, and told him he could come if he wanted to.
But that implied a disinterest in his presence, to an extent, and as he smiled and nodded at her, she realized that wasn't the case. She very much wanted him to come with her.
Rachel returned his grin and stood, before walking down the hall to the closet she'd seen there. "I'll look for a stroller," she said, and pulled the door open. Shelby was, fortunately, very organized, and Rachel found it quickly, folded up against the wall.
After dragging it out she turned to the side, where Will was walking over with Beth. He brushed past her in the hallway into Beth's room, and she worked on opening the stroller, found it difficult. When he came back out Beth had a light denim jacket, and was clapping her hands.
Will let Beth down, and she toddled away, toward the living room again. "Do you want some help?" His voice was light, a little teasing, even.
"No, I think I can—" her voice was taut as she struggled with a latch, until her grip slipped and she stumbled back. His hand shot out to her arm, held her, and laughed a little. "OK, maybe a little."
He didn't tease her about her inability, just squeezed her arm before letting go and opening the stroller up. When he set the opened seat down, she turned to grab her purse from the bedroom. "Come here, Beth," she heard from the living room as she came back in, wheeling the stroller in front of the door. She watched as he picked her up and settled her in, and with a click they were set to go.
It was difficult, maneuvering the large buggy, but she started to get the hang of it once they were out the door and heading down the sidewalk. Rachel thought back to when she was little, would play mommy with her baby dolls and little pink stroller.
Will was silent beside her, his hands in his pockets, his elbows out to the side just a little. It was still playing mommy, she knew, but it was different now that she understood more of what being a "mommy" actually was.
From the side of her eyes she caught Will smiling down, and she giggled lightly, a little awkward in the sudden silence. She had things to ask him, but being outside felt like a reprieve of everything, so they just strolled down the block.
Every once in a while she would feel the heat of his stealthy stare, and when she'd look over he'd look down. It was an interesting game of cat and mouse, one she'd played enough with Finn, but this game was for fun, it wasn't about winning, or proving anything.
When he looked away, she watched him, too.
Beth was quiet, enjoying the walk with them, but occasionally she would gargle from under the shaded hood of the stroller. Will looked down, making sure she was fine, and when he straightened back up his eyes connected with Rachel's and he winked.
A flood of warmth started, low, and she thought again about the hug he'd been told to give her.
"I think we should head back," and he sounded regretful, like he wanted to walk with her longer, maybe even forever. But it was silly and romanticizing everything so she shook her head in agreement as he helped her turn the stroller around.
They'd walked for about fifteen minutes, and it was a good long walk back, still in silence. But the awkwardness of the beginning of the stroll had eased, and now she stared ahead, her thoughts trained on the hug she wanted from him, more and more.
Rachel rounded the corner back to Shelby's home, and he stepped in front of the stroller, lifted the end as they got the stroller back up the two small steps to the apartment complex. "Got it?" Will asked, as he lowered her back down, and smiled at Rachel.
When the stroller was stopped in the entryway, Rachel looked down, smiling as Beth sat, peacefully. Cousin Leon's stories had not prepared her for such a docile child, really, and she was infinitely grateful. Kneeling, she undid the strap on Beth's waist and lifted her out, setting her on the floor.
She giggled and clapped and parked herself on the floor nearby to play with her shoes. When Rachel looked back up Will had broken down the buggy again, and leaned it against the back of the couch as they both watched Beth.
"Quinn checked to see if you passed on the hug they'd sent," she was aiming for nonchalant, playful, but it just sounded desperate to her own ears.
But he just angled toward her and gave her a dopey, but worried smirk. It was confusing, this mixture of feelings he was displaying, and she waited for him to laugh it off. She'd been smiling, trying to convince him of the gentle teasing, but when he continued to watch her face it fell.
She gave her own lips a shallow lick, and tried not to burst when he stepped toward her, his own smile faltering. With his arms open he gave a small, forced laugh and she stepped into him, raising her arms to his neck.
Overwhelming was the word she finally came to as she stood in the middle of the apartment, speechless and pressed against him.
His arm around her earlier had been surprising and oddly pleasant, but this was so much more. Her height brought her face into his chest, and he had to lean forward, into her more, to make up for the short arms around his neck. That warm scent was enveloping her, making her a little dizzy and she couldn't stop from smiling against his t-shirt, her expression hid in their embrace.
His arms wrapped around her waist completely, and she realized just how big he was, in comparison to her small stature. She always felt so big, but like this, with him, she felt small, too. Rachel never considered herself as one who needed to be protected, not really, but that's exactly what his arms felt like, his fingers curling over the curve of her waist just tight enough to draw her attention.
Their legs were pressed together, too, and she realized how they were matching each other, in every way.
Breath stirred the locks of hair around her shoulders, and as he sighed a little she realized his nose was almost pressed against her neck, knew his mouth wasn't far, either. Briefly, she considered angling her head more, pressing her flesh against his lips. It was a bad idea, in several ways, and she bit her own lip instead as she inhaled him.
Her eyes had squeezed shut, tightly, and the pressure was causing small bursts of light in the dark of her eyelids. She wondered, then, if that's what people mistook for "fireworks," that pressure.
The hug lasted forever and not enough time, because before she'd gotten her fill he was easing back, away. He left her and she swayed slightly, trying to smile but feeling it fail on her lips. He cleared his throat and she looked up at him, at the way he was blinking his eyes just like her. Rachel thought that, maybe, he'd been squeezing just as tight.
Her gratitude died on her tongue as he went to sit on the couch, his back to her. Thanking him didn't feel right, not when she was considering that he might have liked it, just as much.
()()()
The rest of the night was blissfully uneventful, after the bursts of emotion over the past few days. Beth played, they watched TV (though Rachel didn't really absorb it, not with his hand so close to her leg, not when she had to focus so hard on not shifting and pressing them together), and when it was time, Rachel changed Beth.
Will made dinner for the toddler, finding chicken nuggets in the freezer, and they ate the leftover take away from the night before. Rachel avoided heavy conversation with him, and they bathed Beth before they all settled on Shelby's bed like they'd done the night before.
Everything had been so routine, and comfortable, despite their lack of practice, and Rachel wondered if that meant something. When he pressed his back against the headboard, she sat a little closer to him, Beth sitting on both of their thighs as he read the story to them. Will's left arm rested awkwardly on his lap next to Beth's leg, and Rachel thought, if things were different, that he would have put his arm around her. When he glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, she wondered if he wanted to anyway.
The story had gotten Beth sleepy, in her clean pink onesie, but she wasn't asleep yet. "You should sing, tonight," Will suggested, and she liked it, their trading of responsibility. She had to admit that his voice was pleasing, even if he wasn't as trained as she was, but he was asking her to sing, and she wouldn't pass that up.
Rachel cleared her throat and looked down at Beth, her little sister drowsy, half on her lap. An image of a discovered cassette tape crossed Rachel's mind and she began to hum.
"I dreamed a dream in time gone by, when hope was high and life worth living," she began, her eyes a little misty. The song choice was an acknowledgement to Beth, private and just for Rachel as the significance of their mother's song remained her knowledge alone.
"I dreamed that love would never die, I dreamed that God would be forgiving," she sang to Beth, a promise of sorts. "Then I was young and unafraid, and dreams were made and used and wasted." Her breath caught a little as she thought about her relationship with Shelby, all starts and stops and hesitation.
"There was no ransom to be paid, no song unsung, no wine untasted. But the tigers come at night, with their voices soft as thunder, as they tear your hope apart, as they turn your dream to shame." Rachel looked down at Beth, now asleep, her skin so pink and soft, and she ran a finger over her chubby cheek. Beth was so vulnerable, so innocent. Rachel promised, despite the complications with Shelby, the pain she felt around her, that she would be there for Beth—she loved her sister, even after these few days together.
"And still I dream she'll come to me, that we will live the years together." Her whole life Rachel had wanted a mother, wanted the feeling Ms. Olsen had given her that day in first grade, her arms gentle and soft and forgiving. When Shelby had shown up she'd thought this was it, finally.
"But there are dreams that cannot be, and there are storms we cannot weather." Except it hadn't worked out and she would have to learn to accept that. But she'd wanted a sibling her whole life, too, and this was working. It was working so well, just her and Beth and Will, and she didn't have to give this up, not really.
Of course it wouldn't be easy, with her in Lima, and Beth in New York and Shelby still not wanting her. But Shelby couldn't stop her from caring for Beth, from trying to protect her and letting her know she'd always be there. It wasn't too much to ask, it wasn't.
Beth was limp between Will's leg and hers, but the song wasn't finished, and she needed it to be before she could walk away. Will lifted Beth onto his lap, almost silently, and she wondered how he knew that she needed this, needed to finish.
Rachel could feel his eyes on her head as she sang down at the little girl, soft as she could despite the urge to belt it out, "I had a dream my life would be, so different from this hell I'm living, so different now from what it seems, now life has killed the dream, I dreamed."
It had been taxing, staying so quiet, and the rush of blood she felt in her head was sudden. Quickly she felt her cheeks, the fear rising that she'd started to cry during the song, only to find her skin dry.
"Rach?" His free hand, not holding Beth against him slid under her chin, lifted her face up to look at him. His face was open, almost in awe, and it didn't make sense because he'd seen her sing a thousand times before.
He was searching her eyes like he wanted to say something, and then his gaze slipped down, lower, and she licked her lips on instinct. She could feel his breath, suddenly, and the puff of air tickled her bottom lip. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she could feel herself lean into him, lean forward.
With her eyes close she could only hear his intake of breath and gulp, before his skin dropped from her chin and he leaned away. She felt the bed dip as he slid off of the edge and by the time she opened her eyes, blinked around the spots, he was disappearing into Beth's room.
