So maybe taking a writing hiatus after the ending of the last chapter was a bit cruel in hindsight. My bad.
Thanks to the usual angels for their encouragement when I felt like this chapter would literally never end, and for the never ending support from my lovely reviewers. It makes my day seeing people love this story as much as I do :)
(I'm proof-reading this for the final time exhausted so apologies for any errors, they'll get fixed when I re-read it later on, but I wanted to get this chapter out.)
Rachel can barely see for tears, but she doesn't stop running until she's two blocks away. She collapses, panting in a side street, and leans against the wall as sobs rack her body. Her head tips back against the bricks as she futilely tries to blink back tears, and wonders how anything could ever hurt this much.
(She thought she'd seen the worst of heartbreak, being dragged away from Finn that day on the train, but god that didn't even come close to how she feels right now.)
Her entire world feels like it's fallen apart, and she's threatening to go with it. She desperately needs someone to hold her up just so she doesn't completely collapse.
Rachel fumbles in her bag for her phone, and hits speed dial. Kurt answers on the third ring.
"Kurt, I need you," she cries.
He doesn't ask why, just where. Rachel says a silent thank you for how blessed she is with her best friends. He pulls up in a taxi ten minutes later, and Rachel's sobs escalate all over again when she realises he's probably forgone a week's food budget just to reach her quickly.
"Rachel, oh god, come here," Kurt says, holding out his arms. Rachel lets herself fall into them, crying freely into his shoulder. "Ssh, it's ok," he tells her, rubbing his hand soothingly against her back. "It's gonna be ok."
Rachel can't believe that for a moment. All she knows is that she never wants to see Cassie again.
New Year's Day is basically one of the most magical and most terrifying days of her entire life.
She wakes up halfway through the night terrified Cassie's going to chuck her out; but then she gets roused from sleep mid-morning by a horny Cassie and she's so happy she completely forgets this isn't permanent.
Cassie brutally reminds her a few hours later, and she feels ridiculous for the split-second she'd seen herself in the mirror wearing Cassie's clothes and allowed herself to imagine they were actually together.
(She doesn't even know if that's something she wants, not really. She's always craved comfort and stability amongst her drama, but a relationship with Cassie seems like cosying up to a particularly vicious iceberg.)
But still, it hurts, the idea that Cassie thinks she'd prefer any guy over this.
(She knows, already, that there's no one else who could make her feel the way she does right now, and that in and out of itself terrifies her.)
She's learning pretty quickly about the way to appease Cassie; mostly, accepting she'd rather be forced to watch her own Youtube hit on repeat than admit to feeling any emotion.
(Which is ridiculous, because Cassie is one of the most emotional people Rachel knows.)
She's willing to compromise a lot, though, to keep playing this addicting, fascinating game; and if she recognises the danger signs, she ignores them, because the rush she gets when Cassie smoulders at her across the loft and beckons her to the floor is only second to being on stage.
Rachel still can't believe Cassie's quite letting her take what she wants, and maybe that's half of what she loves. The girl Cassie lets her be in this room is better than any role she'd ever dreamed of.
Kurt basically carries her home on the Subway, letting her sniffle into his $400 jacket with barely a wince. When they finally collapse into their apartment, Santana looks up from the sofa to see Rachel hobbling in, Kurt's arm round her waist, and jumps up in alarm.
"What's happened, oh my god!" she says, running to help Rachel. "Are you hurt? What is it?"
Rachel just shakes her head, trying in vain to push Santana away, and moves towards her bedroom.
"I picked her up from Soho," Kurt tells Santana in a low voice, and Santana's expression droops in heartbroken understanding then hardens into cold fury in a split second.
"Where is that bitch, I will cut her," Santana snarls, storming towards the door.
"Santana!" Kurt and Rachel shout in unison, Kurt lunging back to grab Santana's arm. Rachel's fragile grip on control tears completely at Santana's outburst, and – inexplicably – the thought of anyone else hurting Cassie right now, and she bursts into tears, before clamping a hand over her mouth and running into the bathroom. She slams the door shut behind her and leans against it, wheezing into her hands as she weeps.
Her world feels like it's crashing in on itself as her solid foundation of reality disappears, and this strange new world where Cassie slept with someone else forces itself into place. The only tenuous link to her sanity she has is the steady rhythm of sobs racking her chest. She focuses on the tears sliding unheeded down her cheeks and the rise and fall of her ribcage, as she wonders desperately how this could possibly be happening.
It was never supposed to hurt like this.
When she emerges, two hours later, her eyes are red and swollen but she's otherwise composed. She's cried so many tears she just feels empty, and she likes that. No emotion left to feel heartbroken.
She makes her way silently to her bedroom, trying to ignore the concerned looks Santana and Kurt are throwing her from the sofa. She doesn't want to face their sympathy when she knows they've been waiting for this all along. All she wants to do is burrow underneath her covers and disappear from the world all together.
Somehow during their New Years' idylle Rachel'd forgotten to tell Cassie she wasn't actually dropping her class, and she almost considers going back to her loft to let her know. But the thought of how clingy that would appear makes her cringe, and besides – surprise seems like her best weapon in keeping Cassie's interest, right now.
(She tries not to think about who else Cassie's probably sleeping with over the holiday.)
Rachel can't resist winding up Cassie just a little more, and the risk of getting ripped a new one in the middle of class is definitely worth it for Cassie's expression when she swans into the dance studio nearly seven minutes late, in the shortest pair of dance shorts she could find in New York.
(Apparently she's starting to learn exactly what makes Cassie tick, though, and she tries not to be too smug when Cassie's throwing her against the piano.)
Despite nearly getting caught, Cassie's still apparently prepared to risk a second career to grind against her in expensive salsa clubs. Maybe Rachel's finally sexy enough for Cassie; or maybe it's something to do with the fiery jealously flaring in Cassie's eyes when Rachel catches the eye of some male dancers.
She's pretty sure Cassie's stubbornly convincing herself this is just sex, but Rachel's happy to go along with that for now.
Kurt wakes her up the next day with a steaming mug of chamomile tea.
"For your voice," he says, with a sad smile, and Rachel has to close her eyes for a moment to fight back a fresh onslaught of tears. She sits up slightly, and accepts the mug from Kurt, muttering a quiet 'thank you'.
"You don't have to tell me what happened," Kurt says, holding his hands up in surrender, "But… I'm here if you need me. As is Santana," he adds.
"I just…" says Rachel shakily. "I feel so humiliated. I feel so worthless. How could she do that to me?"
"Whatever it is, you don't deserve it," Kurt says softly, sitting down on the edge of her bed.
"But I don't even understand why she didit," Rachel tells him, her voice cracking. "I thought we were… I really thought we had… I mean why would she do that?" Rachel asks Kurt desperately, her eyes brimming.
"Because she's a really messed up person, Rachel," Kurt says sadly. "And I know you don't want to hear it, but there's no way this could ever have ended well."
"But I don't see why not!" Rachel insists furiously. "I don't see why she couldn't have just trusted me! I don't see why she had to ruin everything…"
Kurt lets Rachel cry, stroking her knee gently.
"I can't go to class today," she cries, "I can't face her."
"Rachel that's fine. Just take the day off, stay here, Santana will make you some of her special healing soup."
Rachel snorts, wiping her eyes with her blanket.
"God, I'm such a mess," she says, and suddenly an image of Cassie passed out on the floor of her loft flashes through her mind, and her heartburns.
Rachel's always been terrible at keeping secrets, but something about hiding an illicit affair from her best friend and roommate makes the whole thing seem more sordid than exciting.
(Also: she does not clap like a seal.)
Kurt is, predictably, horrified.
"Rachel are you serious?!" nearly spraying his coffee everywhere. "You're- Cassie July? But she hates you!"
"Well, I guess she doesn't hate me that much," says Rachel carefully, trying to repress memories of exactly how much Cassie does nothate her, because this really isn't the time.
"No, but- you could lose everything," Kurt tells her insistently, putting his cup down. "Ok this is a bad idea. What are you going to do when people find out?!"
"Kurt, no one's going to find out," Rachel assures him, but honestly, she doesn't even believe herself.
"Oh don't be ridiculous," Kurt snaps, and Rachel glares.
"Look, I'm not asking for your approval-"
"Approval?! Rachel you're getting emotionally involved with a woman who has torturedyou for the past four months!" Kurt says incredulously.
Rachel's silent for a long moment, biting her lip.
"Kurt I know…" she says eventually. "I know what she was like then. But I know what she's like now, and I… She's making me really happy."
"Oh my god," Kurt replies, putting his head in his hands, before getting up. "I can't listen to this," he says, walking away.
Despite Kurt's open objections, Rachel spends more and more time with Cassie. She ignores Kurt's disapproving looks and bitchy jibes in favour of running along on one of Cassie's adventures. And maybe Kurt is right about the danger she's putting her reputation in; but he's not right about how Cassie acts towards her.
Rachel's never been very good at bonding with people; it always seems so forced on her part, and reluctant on others'. Somehow she finds herself becoming closer to Cassie without even trying. She doesn't expect or anticipate it to happen, she just looks across Cassie's sofa one day and realises the person she's sharing most of her life with now is sitting opposite her.
Cassie isn't nearly as open with her words, but she is with her body, and Rachel knows the way Cassie seeks comfort in her late at night means every bit as much.
(Cassie trusts her, and that's more than enough to let Rachel trust her far too much in return.)
It takes her completely by surprise when Cassie proves Kurt right and humiliates her in the middle of class. Kurt, to his credit, barely whispers I told you so and lets her cry into his shoulder for most of the evening, before insisting she confront Cassie.
"This is about self-respect, ok Rachel. You can't let her take that from you," he tells her.
"But she's still my teacher. I can't yell at her, what if she chucks me out?"
"She won't. She likes you too much."
The smile tugging at Kurt's lips is grim; but apparently he's right.
Santana seems to be fighting back seething rage, and it would be comical if it wasn't for the fact Rachel feels like she's been gutted.
"Ok, all I want to know is - did she hit you? Did she physically harm you?" Santana asks as she places a bowl of soup on the coffee table in front of Rachel.
"No, Santana…" Rachel answers warily.
"Good," Santana says shortly, curling up next to her on the sofa.
"Cassie would never…" Rachel begins, but she trails off as she wonders, and reallywonders; all the times she's seen Cassie scream at her students, all the times Cassie's abused her – and yeah, she's toned it down a lot in the last few months.
(And that's just another thing that makes Rachel's hurt clench in agony; how could Cassie care so much about her and then…)
She's never actually seen Cassie lose control, Youtube aside, but she has a pretty good idea of how destructive she is when she's hurt.
Rachel takes a shaky breath.
"I feel like I don't even know her anymore," she confesses.
"Rach… did you really know her to start with?" Santana asks slowly.
"Yes!" Rachel insists desperately. "All of the things she shared…" She tries to pick out a single rational thought but she feels like every single one of her memories is in the process of being re-written, what she'd previously known to be real and solid now being glazed over with the same fear:
Did Cassie ever even care at all?
Rachel's mind freezes instinctively. She can't deal with that. She can't deal with any of this.
"I just don't… I just don't ever want to see her again."
"You could drop her class?" Santana suggests, but Rachel shakes her head.
"I need it. And even if I didn't… I don't want to give her the satisfaction," Rachel says determinedly.
"Well then we're gonna have to find a way for you to deal with her," Santana says firmly, shrugging slightly as if it really is that simple.
"Yeah," says Rachel, with a slight tremor. "Yeah."
They finish their soup in silence. It's not until Santana's collecting their bowls that she turns round, and asks gently:
"Did she sleep with someone else?"
Rachel freezes, feeling for a moment like her stomach is forcing its way up her throat. She can't look at Santana; she can't face the sympathy, and she can't face the I told you so that Santana isn't cruel enough to let slip.
"Yes. She slept with someone else."
Rachel can pretty much pinpoint the moment it becomes, irrevocably, more than just sex.
When she hears some of her classmates discussing the musical in her Theatre Workshop, she knows she has to see it. Cassie's the first person she thinks to invite, because she's the first person she usually thinks of these days. Rachel almost shakes her head at herself, and imagines Cassie laughing in her face when she suggests it. Which is so frustrating, because she's sure Cassie would like it; and at the back of her mind she's always had some ridiculous fantasy about them sitting in the front row of a theatre together…
Maybe if she didn't actually tell Cassie….
She doesn't buy front row seats, because she's pretty sure Cassie would actually walk out of the theatre. But she manages to find a way to persuade Cassie into relinquishing control for an evening, and then suddenly they're in the theatre and Cassie's clutching Rachel's hand like a lifeline and she acts like her life depends on it because she knows Cassie will run a mile the moment Rachel acknowledges her weakness.
(And it scares her, slightly, how much of Cassie she's suddenly seeing open and raw.
When Cassie has a near breakdown in the middle of the show, for a split-second she genuinely considers running as far as she can because it's justtoo much.)
In the end, though, she knows more than anything what it's like to need silent comfort in your worst moments, and when Cassie pulls her closer as she's drifting off to sleep, she thanks every star she knows that she didn't leave her.
Something shifts that night, and if it scares her she knows it terrifies Cassie. She tries, and fails, not to fret all week when Cassie – predictably – freezes her out. But she knows better than to hammer at her loft door, and she's rewarded for it a week later when Cassie actually asks her to stay. She spends the whole day floating on air, and looks across the sofa at a laughing Cassie and realises she's falling head over heels in love with this woman.
Rachel's shaking as she makes her way to Dance 101.
(Santana had tried to insist on sneaking into NYADA with her, but even if Rachel hadn't been scared of getting into trouble, the thought of Cassie's face when Rachel walked in with a bodyguard makes her stomach drop.)
The moment she enters the corridors that are Cassie's domain she's terrified, her heart jumping at every swish of blonde. Predictably, the dance hall is empty save for the few early students warming up. She gets changed and joins them at the barre, trying to focus on her exercises.
Rachel catches sight of herself in Cassie's long mirrors; make-up and hair perfect, completely under control, her spine straight and her hips turned out.
She lifts her chin.
She can do this.
She flinches when she hears the sound of loud footsteps approaching the dance studio, except they're longer and softer than usual; her determination to ignore Cassie cracks just as a dark figure appears in the doorway, and she looks up to see Brody.
Her heart clenches.
"All right Freshmen," he says, striding into the centre of the room. "Cassie's been injured so she's out for at least of the rest of the week."
A series of gasps erupts around the room but Rachel's barely listening. A cold horror is seeping through her body because oh god…
Terrifying images of Cassie lying bleeding on her floor flash through Rachel's mind, one leg bent crookedly out behind her, empty vodka bottles scattered around. She should have known; this is all her fault.
"Ok, everyone," Brody says, trying to calm the gossiping that's erupted.
"Wait," Rachel interrupts, rushing forward. "What's happened? Is she ok?" she asks in a low, urgent voice. Brody looks at her in surprise, and then his eyes narrow slightly in suspicion.
"She's fine, she's just broken her wrist," he tells her, and Rachel nearly collapses in relief. "I don't mean to be rude but, why are you so concerned, Rachel?"
Rachel's heart hammers, and for the first time she notices the rest of her classmates watching her intently.
"Nothing, I just…" Rachel's mind goes blank. "Nothing."
She hurries back to the barre, so embarrassed and relieved but shit so scared that she barely pays attention to the rest of the lesson. She fumbles her way through Brody's relatively easy exercises, and he pulls her aside after class.
"Listen, Rachel, I don't know what's up with you, but Cassie's going to be fine," he tells her. "She just slipped and snapped her wrist when she fell."
Something in the way Brody lets her know so casually he's more informed about Cassie's wellbeing than she is hits her completely the wrong way.
"I didn't realise you and Cassie were so closeagain," she snaps, her lip curling in disgust.
"What?" replies Brody, genuinely dumb-founded. "Rachel, there's nothing going on between me and Cassie, ok!" he laughs. "I mean, rumour has it…" he pauses, looking around slightly nervous. "People have been talking. You know, about Cassie and… you."
"What?" whispers Rachel shortly, cold dread freezing inside her like ice.
"Apparently someone saw you two together outside a bar, a few weeks back," Brody tells her quietly. "And it's not a secret how much attention Cassie gives you in class. People have noticed, you know, that you've got friendlier."
Rachel's hurt hammers frantically in her chest and she honestly thinks she's going to throw up right there. But she can't do this; she can't let Cassie ruin this one last thing for her.
"Then you can tell everyone that they're deluded," Rachel tells her fiercely, her eyes flashing. "Because the last person I would ever have an affair with is Cassandra July."
"I know!" Brody reassures her. "I mean you're not… I know you're not like that."
"You don't know the first thing about me, Brody," Rachel says coldly, and she turns on her heel and walks from the room.
Rachel has not so much as looked at Brody since the Winter Showcase, when any notion of dating him was entirely swept away by a gorgeous blonde with a smoulder that just made her insides melt, but Cassie is still inexplicably jealous of him.
(Cassie gets jealous more easily than anyone Rachel's ever met, including Finn, and most of the time it's kind of cute and gives Rachel this exhilarating rush over seeing someone so flawless be so possessive over her.)
No matter how hard she tries, though, she can't seem to convince Cassie she has literally no interest in him. Rachel is Cassie's, she has been since Cassie first took her hand and led her away to a life she could never previously have comprehended, and made her more happy than she thought was humanly possible. She wants more than anything to tell Cassie that, to sit her down and sing with everything she has about how much Cassie has nothing to fear, because Rachel would honestly give her anything.
But nothing terrifies her so much anymore as the idea of Cassie leaving her, and so she does everything in her power to stop that from happening.
(And maybe she's turning into someone she doesn't really recognise in the process, but she doesn't care as long as she has this woman she's inexplicably fallen in love with still in her life.)
So she keeps her emotions as contained as possible and tries to quell her insecurities.
Except the cracks in Cassie's own steely control are starting to show, and somehow that frightens her. She knows that Cassie's fears are the only thing left keeping some semblance of safe distance between them, and that there's nothing Rachel can do to stop herself from giving Cassie her all if she lets her.
"You're so beautiful, Rachel," Cassie whispers down at her, and Rachel nearly weeps.
Brody pretty much leaves Rachel alone for the rest of the week, which suits her just fine. If he notices how much of a nervous wreck she is, he doesn't say anything more. They get their midterm marks back, and Rachel nearly falls over when she sees A- at the top of her report. She shakes her head in disgust, and shoves the paper into her bag.
Fuck Cassie.
She spends every hour she's not in class trying desperately to distract herself, but she's just got so much time on her hands. She finds herself checking her messages for the first time in four days, but nothing; not from Cassie, anyway.
Rachel doesn't know whether she's distraught or relieved.
She's a nervous wreck all weekend, to the point where Santana is near-constantly muttering darkly in Spanish about what is presumably Cassie's imminent death. She lies awake most of Sunday night, only falling into a brief, fitful sleep dreaming of Cassie and Brody wrapped round each other in the dance studio.
Cassie keeps her class waiting for ten minutes, and Rachel's visibly shaking by the time tell-tale footsteps announce her arrival. She doesn't look up, not for a moment. Cassie's voice rings out, agonisingly familiar, across the room, and is she imaging things or is it slightly deeper, slightly hoarser than usual?
"I hope everyone's enjoyed their week's holiday, but rest assured it will not be continuing after your pitiful excuse for midterm results. Listen up, people! We have only eight weeks left until finals. Anyone who doesn't make the grade will not be allowed into my class next year! Alright, let's go across the floor. We'll start with some jetés. Partner up!"
Cassie moves past Rachel and her breath hitches. She allows herself to glance over at Cassie's retreating form, and her heart aches as her eyes rake over familiar blonde hair pulled tightly into a ponytail, long limbs wrapped in black fabric. She bites her lip when she notices Cassie's bandaged right hand.
Someone taps her on the shoulder and she's shaken out of her reverie. She smiles at the boy offering to be her partner, and lets herself be led over to the corner of the studio. Her heart hammers as she prepares herself for the jump. She glances briefly over at Cassie who's looking anywhere but Rachel.
"You ready?" the boy says, placing an arm on Rachel's waist, and she nods. The boy counts and they leap forward, and for a second she catches Cassie's eye. Her legs tremble, but the boy's hands grip around her waist and she jumps instinctively. She can feel Cassie's eyes boring into her and she forces every muscle in her body to its, willing her limbs into perfection, just once.
Then it's over and she's landed back on the floor.
"Nice one," her partner tells her, and she smiles shakily up at him.
Cassie's already barking criticism at the next pair, and Rachel feels weak with relief.
Rachel's pretty much dancing on air after Cassie's admission, but then mid-terms roll around, and she's caught between her almost-relationship and her exams.
(She's always been a straight-A student, but it's just impossible to focus endlessly in the library when she knows Cassie's waiting at home, needingher.)
"Rachel, I don't get it," Kurt says in exasperation one morning, when Rachel arrives back from Cassie's, exhausted. "A year ago you were all animal jumpers and I want to make it to New York and now you're risking your place at a school you stalked the head of to get into so you can run around flashing your butt cheeks to try and hang onto the slutty Barbie you think you're in love with."
"You know what, Kurt," Rachel tells him angrily, snatching her bag. "It's called growing up, and moving on. I'm sorry that you're still hung up on Blaine, I am, but you're not going to ruin this for me."
She storms off to get changed, then heads back out to study, ignoring Kurt. She's barely slept, but she wouldn't compromise anything about her life to spend less time with the woman she loves.
Then suddenly, Cassie freezes.
Rachel can't pinpoint the words or the actions exactly, but she knows Cassie's pulling a huge mask over the torrent of emotions she's just let loose, and Rachel's terrified.
Rachel becomes accustomed to ignoring Cassie pretty easily, and Cassie apparently does the same right back. It almost feels like a game, winning or losing depending on how much you can mask your feelings.
(Rachel always used to be so hopeless at keeping her emotions tucked away, but she's spent nine months studying the master, now.)
Her nerves disappear rapidly to be replaced by anger, and after one exhausting lesson, she cracks.
Her footwork is everywhere, and she keeps messing up the same move again and again. Cassie's glowering at her from across the dance hall, which is not helping. At one point Rachel actually topples over and she snaps her head up to glare at Cassie as she wanders past, because maybe she should goddamn teach.
She hangs behind at the end of class until the hall is empty, then she storms up to Cassie.
"I don't care what your problem is with me, but you still have a job to do," Rachel tells her furiously. Cassie crosses her arms against her body, and stands impassively, as if she's been waiting for Rachel's outburst for a while.
"You're always going on about self-control and ignoring your emotions but this is ridiculous. Ok, because you are letting your emotions get in the way of your job, because you're not doing anything to help me!" Cassie's expression doesn't change, and somehow it makes Rachel even more angry. "And you know what it's pathetic, ok. You're pathetic. Drinking yourself into oblivion and fucking up your hand because you can't live with yourself for screwing over the one person who actually loved you!"
Tears are blurring Rachel's vision by now, but she doesn't miss the crushing, heartbroken expression that flits across Cassie's face, before she turns on her heel and walks from the room.
Rachel arrives home a mess.
"I think I really went too far," Rachel sobs, and then she collapses into Kurt's arms.
In the midst of Cassie's emotional freeze, Rachel turns to Kurt for advice.
"How am I supposed to know what she's thinking?!" Kurt demands through a plate of noodles. "Even I can't see into the heart and mind of the ice queen."
"Kurt," snaps Rachel, glaring at him. "Look, I'm terrified, ok," she admits, "I feel like she's just going to lose it any second, and I don't know what to do."
Kurt gives her a long, hard look.
"Give her space," he tells her. "For your own sake."
Santana gives Rachel a long list of reasons why Cassie had Rachel's outburst coming, and Rachel thinks maybe she's right. But that doesn't ease the guilt from her words; it doesn't ease the guilt she has over walking away from Cassie.
She doesn't feel regret it exactly, it's just...
Cassie looks more and more of a mess every time Rachel sees her. She's got such a steely control over her emotions it's basically unnoticeable to everyone else, but Rachel can see the lifelessness in Cassie's dancing, the maniacal glint in her eye and the slight tremor in her hands like she's feeling so much underneath the surface it's threatening to burst.
It hurts. Rachel's anger doesn't disappear, but it has to fight with the growing ache in her chest that makes her falter when she passes Cassie on her way out, leaning over the piano exhausted. Cassie glances up, just for a moment, and Rachel catches a glimpse of the self-loathing and guilt and – just for a second – hope in her eyes. Then she looks away as if Rachel was never there, and Rachel carries on walking.
She can't help watching her, after that, checking to see if Cassie's ok, waiting for her to slip up and meet Rachel's eyes, just briefly. She finds herself counting the moments when Cassie brushes a whisper too close, or lets their gazes slide past each other, or sometimes, just sometimes she watches Rachel work, unnoticed from the corner.
Rachel hears the other students gossiping, one day, just before class.
"She looks like a zombie," whispers the girl next to her. "I don't know if she's having some mid-life crisis or something, but the other day Zack nearly dropped me, and she didn't say a word."
"Maybe somebody died," says one boy dramatically.
"Or maybe somebody finally broke her icey heart," chuckles another girl, and they all giggle conspiratorially.
Rachel whips round.
"Maybe you should shut your mouth," she snaps, heart racing. The entire group goes silent, and Rachel looks over to see Cassie stalking into the room.
"Don't stop gossiping on my account," she drawls, not even looking at Rachel.
Rachel glances over at the other students, who are all wearing identical, terrified expressions.
Cassie doesn't look at her for the rest of the lesson, but Rachel catches her eyes shining for just a second, and she barely maintains her own composure until she's outside.
By the time she's home, her make-up's streaming down her face, and Santana drops the magazine she's holding when she sees her.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?!" she asks in alarm.
"It's Cassie," Rachel says, flopping down next to her.
"What happened?"
"I just… I really miss her," Rachel says quietly, sniffing.
"Have you spoken to her at all?" Santana asks. Rachel shakes her head.
"No. Not since I yelled at her about how pathetic she is," Rachel adds with a disdainful laugh. "I just want to know how she is, you know?"
"Yeah," replies Santana sadly, and when Rachel lets their gazes meet she knows how achingly Santana can empathise with her.
"Santana, I want to be with her," she tells her shakily, eyes shining. "That's what I want, and I…." Rachel breaks off, biting her lip as she tries to compose herself. "People always say you should marry your best friend, but she's not that, she's not even close," Rachel cries.
"Rach, no one's talking about marriage," Santana says gently.
"But that's how I feel!" Rachel screams, and Santana visibly flinches. "It's not just some… taudry affair, not anymore," Rachel continues more calmly. "I don't think it has been for a long time. It's all-consuming, how I feel about her. And I want, I want more than anything to suddenly fall into this perfect, harmonious relationship with her; I want to wake up in the morning and see her smiling at me and know that she's not going to hurt me at all, and that anyone who does… I can go to her and she'll make it all better."
Rachel crumples, leaning into Santana as sobs.
"Ssh, baby, it's gonna be ok," Santana says soothingly as she rubs her back, and god, why could it have not been this temperamental, fiery, beautiful woman she fell for?
When her sobs eventually turn into sniffles, Santana tucks her messy hair behind her ears, and says gently, but firmly, "OK, I'm going to tuck you into bed and make you a pop tart and some hot chocolate, and then I'm going to put on Trouty's acoustic playlist he made for you, and you're going to go to sleep. And then tomorrow, we're going to sit down and figure out how to handle this. But right now you're just going to mess everything up."
Rachel nods, and lets Santana basically carry her into bed, and sit stroking her hair as she coaxes the hot chocolate down her aching throat.
In the midst of all the madness, Santana moves in.
"Come on, it'll be like Two and Half Gays," Santana jokes, and Rachel freezes.
"What?" Santana asks, looking between her and Kurt's stricken faces. "What did I say?"
"Rachel's having some crazy affair with her dance teacher, Cassie July," Kurt says in dramatic flourish. "What?! Someone's gotta tell her," he adds, at Rachel's horrified expression.
"Oh my god," laughs Santana, putting down her bag to give Rachel a round of applause. "You finally took my advice. Well done, Berry."
"Wait, you knew?!" Kurt demands.
"Yeah, of course," Santana shrugs, as if no hint of lady drama could happen without her knowledge.
(Rachel thinks this is probably correct.)
She honestly doesn't know what she'd have done if she didn't have Santana.
(She was ready to murder her when she first "moved in", but right now she'd sacrifice all her Barbra posters just to keep her at her side.)
"I know it's crazy," Rachel says, and Santana rolls her eyes so hard it must hurt.
"Berry, you've been having some illicit affair with the infamous Broadway train-wreck who is your professor, who not only has a reputation for terrorising you but has achieved drama-queen psycho levels that eclipse even your own crack-den scheming antics, and you're now telling me you want to risk both her career and your own to try and forge some kind of sane relationship with her."
Rachel bites her lip.
"I'd fucking hope you know it's crazy, Dios Mio."
"So you don't think I should be with her?" Rachel says hesitantly, willing her herself not to crumble.
"Do you love her?" Santana asks, and the question cuts through Rachel like a knife. Part of her was still waiting for Santana to dismiss her feelings as a ridiculous, drama-fuelled crush, but suddenly everything feels so real.
"Yes," says Rachel quietly, nodding. "I really do."
"You know what I think?" says Santana, leaning back. "I don't think she's ready to be with you. And I don't think you're ready to be with her."
"But I am!" Rachel insists, and Santana shakes her head.
"Rachel, look at the way you're living your life, ok!" Santana tells her incredulously. "You have sacrificed so much, for this incredibly unhealthy relationship. I have literally seen you more in the past week than I have the rest of the term. I mean, do you even study anymore? What happened to Rachel Barbra Berry, taking Broadway by storm?" Santana asks her. "Because right now, Cassie could say, 'Drop everything and come with me' and you would ok! You would, and the Rachel I know would kick you for it. Repeatedly. And then she'd burn all your Streisand crap."
Rachel laughs, wiping at her tears.
"I don't know how this happened," she tells Santana tearfully. "But I don't know what to do!"
"Stop trying to fix Cassie," Santana says more softly. "She has to do that herself."
"So you're saying I should wait for her?" Rachel asks, frowning.
"No, I think you should stop living your life focused on her, ok," Santana says matter-of-factly. "Do what you came to New York to do. Become a star."
Santana's bemusement at Rachel 'finally batting for the better team' lasts exactly how long it takes for her to notice the turn Rachel's relationship with Cassie has taken.
"Dios Mio, do you spend anytime without that lady?!"
"Rachel, I swear that's like, the third time she's called you today."
"Also, when did you start dressing like some Chicago-meets-Sex-In-The-City harlet wannabe?"
Rachel furiously defends Cassie, because she knows Cassie can be a little intense, ok, but so can she, and honestly it's a miracle Cassie's willing to put up with her own insecurities.
And in the end, Rachel doesn't believe anyone understands Cassie quite like she does.
The more she throws herself into her work, the more Rachel realises how true Santana's words were. She dashes off after classes to rehearsal rooms to sing, finds a studio somewhere in Brooklyn to dance, and spends every other spare moment studying. Kurt joins her, sometimes, finding her mid-evening with a fresh coffee.
"Urgh, I love you," Rachel mumbles in between sips, scanning her Writing Workshop notes.
"I know," says Kurt with a smile. She doesn't miss the slight relief in his eyes that's appeared recently.
She feels like she's catching up with an old friend, and there are moments when she just wants to kick herself for being so stupid.
Cassie's still there, constantly; when she's checking her reflection in the morning, when she's alone with her thoughts on the Subway, when she's singing, when she's dancing.
(She tries not to cry when she imagines Cassie's firm hands carefully position her limbs, brushing her skin as they move.)
It's like being chased by a ghost, whispering in her ear; criticising her appearance, her form, her talent. She's applying her make-up in the mirror and suddenly she's back in October, trying desperately to prove to Cassie how sexy she was, how she had what it takes to be a star.
(She squeezes her eyes shut to stop the tears.)
Rachel finally cracks, one night, when she, Santana and Kurt are at Callbacks. She's standing on her own, watching Kurt and Santana slaughterPopular, when a handsome blonde places his beer on the table in front of her.
"I haven't seen you here before," he drawls, and Rachel laughs, eyes brushing over his toned body up to his confident, smirking face. She blushes.
"Does that work on all the ladies?" she asks, smiling.
"Not on the pretty ones," he smiles back. Rachel bites her lip. "Would you like a drink?"
Rachel's not a big fan of cheap alcohol.
("Don't waste my Merlot, Schwim."
"I'm not wasting it, god. I'm just not downing half a bottle at a time."
"Oh fuck you.")
She is a fan of people calling her pretty, though. Which is pretty much what she tells Santana, two hours and many, many drinks later, when the guy's attempting to take her home.
"Berry, what the fuck," hisses Santana, grabbing her arm as she makes for the door.
"What?" says Rachel, trying to shake her off.
"I'm all for getting back on the horse, especially when it's actually your own age, but that guy's a douchebag, ok? He hit on me like three hours ago and then called me a fucking dyke when I rejected him."
Rachel's eyes widen, and she droops.
"Santana-" she begins.
"Are you serious?!" she demands. "Why do you like him?!"
"He made me feel sexy," she shrugs. "And like I'm the kind of girl who gets guys…"
The look Santana gives her makes feel more ashamed than she has since the McKinley Student President election.
"Who are you trying to impress?" she asks her, and Rachel closes her eyes when she realises.
(She still loses most of her dignity when Santana and Kurt have to carry her home sobbing. But at least that will make a funny story in years to come.)
Rachel spends the weekend chucking out half her wardrobe, aided by Santana.
"If it makes you feel awkward, it has to go," she insists. "No point rocking a smokin' dress when it makes you feel like crap."
(She has a slight moment of weakness tossing out Cassie's favourite skirt, but she perseveres.)
"No. No," Santana says, when Rachel models her skimpiest leotard. She shakes her head. "Why Berry, just why."
Even Rachel laughs.
Rachel finally gets an evening alone with Cassie.
It's just like they used to be, Cassie shamelessly flirting and checking Rachel out and making her laugh. It's almost too easy, and there's an eery feeling of calm before the storm.
And then suddenly it's all too much, an hour or two later, when Rachel (or Cassie) finally cracks.
(She'll never, as long as she lives, forget Cassie's face the moment she told her she scared her.)
Cassie, meanwhile, seems…
Calmer.
Rachel knows she's sober now, even if it's been a long time since she's been close enough to smell the scent of Malibu.
Somehow whatever was pulling Cassie away before seems to have relinquished its grip, and she starts to move again like she knows herself, and she knows her own talent. She doesn't have the same look of forced control; she seems almost like she's making peace with herself.
Cassie even looks different, with her straight hair and simple make up. Sometimes Rachel barely recognises her from the flirty-drunk who seduced her all those months ago.
(Then her eyes narrow and she detects a fault in someone's form from the other side of the classroom, and yeah, she's still Cassie.)
She's so much sadder, though, and Rachel wonders what's going on in her mind. Cassie's started criticising her dancing again, and Rachel almost grins in relief the first time. But now it's just like Cassie's forgotten anything ever passed between them, barking Schwimmer across the classroom without so much as a glint in her eye.
She doesn't know if Cassie's ever going to stop being angry with her.
(She doesn't know if Cassie even cares.)
Rachel's quiet for most of the journey to Mr Schue's wedding. When they arrive, Kurt jumps on Blaine and Santana clings to Quinn and Rachel's suddenly all alone in a crowded room. She sits watching the other guests dance, sipping at a familiar cocktail and wishing desperately Cassie was here alongside her. She can hear her snarky comments about the other guests and see her slinking sexily around the dance floor, whirling Rachel so her hair flies in that way she loves.
Someone calls all the single girls up to catch the bouquet, and heck why not? Cassie's promises feel empty and impermanent; but then the moment those flowers fall into her hands Cassie's face floods her mind and god she just wants her here.
Instead, there's Finn, talking to her about flowers and gardening and how can you be single if you're with Brody?
She doesn't set him straight, because she can't; she can't let Finn know the turn her life has taken, the state it's in. She can't tell him that she's given everything for a woman so volatile and unpredictable she's left feeling more lonely and scared than she can remember in a long, long time.
So she lets herself pretend, just for a moment, and allows Finn's familiar comfort to wash over her.
"You know what I think?" he asks, leaning forward, and she smoulders up at him. "I think you're still in love with someone else."
(She falters, just for a moment, because he's so much more right than he knows.)
"Dance with me," he says, and he leads her onto the floor. She throws her arms around his neck and laughs; then suddenly over her shoulder, she sees Quinn and Santana. They're dancing, together- very obviously together, and suddenly Rachel feels the wind knocked out of her.
"Actually, I just need some air," she says, pulling back.
"Rachel, what's wrong?" Finn asks, looking confused.
"Nothing, I just, I need to make a call," Rachel tells him, and hurries back to her seat. Cassie's phone rings and rings, but nothing. Rachel squeezes her eyes shut as she tries not to cry.
"Rachel, are you ok?" Tina asks, looking up at her anxiously from the table.
"Yeah, I'm-"
"Rachel?"
Rachel looks up to see a concerned Finn standing beside her. She sniffs, but then she looks hopelessly down at her phone, and feels the tears rise up in her throat.
"Hey, hey," Finn says, taking her phone from her and placing it on the table. "Can you-?" he asks Tina, before he wraps and arm around Rachel and leads her away.
"Let's go get some air, ok."
But Rachel still can't tell him, sobbing and shaking about how she's made a huge mistake.
"I don't even know who I am anymore!" she tells him, and he holds her while she cries, stroking her hair until she calms down.
(Santana and Quinn run past them at some point, laughing hysterically in between kisses against the corridor walls. Rachel thanks everything she has they don't see her.)
"Do you want me to take you back to my room so you can lie down?" Finn asks.
"I think I'm gonna go home, I've got an early flight," Rachel says, nodding.
"Ok, do you want me to drive you?" Finn offers.
"No it's fine, I'll get a cab," Rachel assures him.
"Rachel-"
"I just want to go home," she says, biting her lip, not talking for a moment about Lima.
Their flight lands about mid-afternoon; she leaves her luggage with Santana and Kurt, and goes as fast as she can to Cassie's loft.
Santana starts seeing Quinn, which-
OK, she's adjusting.
"If it's weird, then…" Santana begins.
"Santana it's fine," Rachel assures her. They both know she's lying; but they both know Santana has no way of finishing that sentence, either.
They're pretty much the same as they've always been, all snarky banter, rolling eyes and hair flips. It makes Rachel wonder why she didn't see this coming all along.
(It makes her ache when she remembers who she used to be like that with.)
The first time she walks in on them making out, Quinn being pushed up against the kitchen counter by Santana and hands tangled in her hair, she freezes. They don't even notice her, so she just stands there in horror, feeling like she's about to throw up. Quinn tips her head back and moans, and it's actually really, really hot.
Rachel bites her lip, backing quietly away. But then her foot collides with a plant pot and she goes flying, knocking a lamp as she falls to the ground.
"Shit!" comes a double cry from the kitchen, and Rachel wills the ground to swallow her up.
"I'm sorry, I was just-" she winces, trying to sit up.
"Berry just fucking tells us when you're in the room, christ," Santana says, rolling her eyes whilst Quinn helps Rachel back up. Rachel catches Santana's eye and cracks a smile, and then suddenly they're all in hysterics.
It's kind of ok, after that.
Two weeks before finals, her world tips upside down.
A Funny Girl revival has been working the rumour mill for weeks, now. But then suddenly it's reality, and Rachel's signing up to audition, and then she's actually on the stage, singing her heart out about independence and taking chances. She doesn't sleep for a week, afterwards.
And then she gets the call.
"Ok, yes, thank you so much," she says, and puts the phone down. Santana and Kurt are staring at her, frozen in anticipation, from across the table.
"Yes? So?" demands Kurt. Rachel's face breaks out into a grin.
"I've got a call back!" she screams.
They jump and cry and hug and get very, verydrunk (courtesy of Santana's fake ID), and Rachel feels like she's walking around in a rosy bubble until Cassie's minions confront her.
"She's never gonna do it," Rachel tells Kurt later that night. "She hates me."
"Rachel, you don't know that," he says, trying to reason with her, although he doesn't look entirely convinced.
"The other day, Michael nearly dropped me, and she actually looked disappointed I didn't hit the ground," Rachel insists.
"Maybe she'll surprise you," Kurt shrugs. Rachel snorts.
She spends the next three days planning how she's going to approach Cassie. But then she appears, suddenly, sauntering into one of Rachel's private rehearsals like not a moment has passed since last December. It throws Rachel off completely, not to mention she looks gorgeous, all toned skin and glossy hair. Something stirs in the pit of Rachel's stomach.
"Who told you?"
"Barbra Streisand!"
Rachel's eyes narrow as Cassie's twinkle in triumph. She hates how easily Cassie can still play her.
And then suddenly she's enveloping Rachel's personal space, and Rachel struggles to keep focussed as Cassie's hands send tingles up and down Rachel's body and god she smells delicious. She wonders for a moment where Cassie's going to take this.
"… while you are widely regarded as having one of the puffiest morning faces of any known human!"
Cassie's twinkling at her in the mirror, and she doesn't catch her jibe until half an hour later, when her heartbeat's returned to normal. She knows she should probably be offended, but something about the leisurely caressing tone of Cassie's voice – and her casual reference to what Rachel was so sure she'd forgotten – seems far too intimate to be an insult.
The whole encounter leaves her entirely disconcerted; but she shakes it off, and powers through most of the night in order to prove Cassie wrong. She tells her as much the next morning, and Cassie just smiles like she has a special secret.
Then Cassie has her arm round Rachel and her entire class is holding banners with her name on and maybe she's actually fallen asleep and this is a wonderful, wonderful dream, but…
"Baby, everything is alright…"