A/N: So this one is a little shorter (which is a little odd b/c this is one of my favorite songs from the album) but it felt done so I stopped writing. It's another Rachel chapter but there is a little klaine in there so I hope everyone hangs in there. Next chapter is all klaine and I think it's my favorite one so far. Anyways I hope you enjoy and feel free to leave me your thoughts! Song Link:
Lessthanthree
POV: Rachel
Chapter 10 : Last of the American Girls
She ran. She ran straight for the door, past the bouncer standing outside before he even realised anyone had exited, and down the street. She ran as fast as she could and did not dare stop. It may have been her imagination but she was sure someone was running right behind her, chasing her, hunting her down and so she ran until she was through the front door of the apartment and then immediately closed and locked it tight behind her.
Panting, she leaned back against the solid wood. She needed that extra body weight pressing against the door, keeping it closed, keeping the bad out, keeping her safe. The probability that she had been followed was very slim but now was not the time to take any risks.
After taking a moment to catch her breath, Rachel opened her eyes for the first time since hearing the locks satisfying click. She had expected to find at least one pair of concerned eyes, if not two, peering back at her but there was no one there. She could see into the kitchen and the living room from where she stood and both of the rooms were deserted. Usually, her own concern would begin to build but there was too much relief coursing through here veins to allow any more worry in. There was relief that she never had to go back, relief that she had escaped, but mostly there was relief that she didn't have to explain anything and that she could cry without questions. She would not know how to be broken in front of Kurt when she had willingly put herself in that danger and then had the fortune to evade what terrible fate he had been captured in. She had no right to cry in his presence, ask for condolence from him or take his condolence, Blaine, away. So, she graciously accepted the time alone that she had been given to let it all out.
Trembling, Rachel crumbled to the floor. She sat, still pressed against the door with her knees pulled up, arms around them protectively, and her face buried in the tangle of limbs. The relief to be home was there but now that the survival instincts were beginning to where off, the realization of everything that had happened was starting to set in too. How could she have been so stupid to put herself in such a treacherous situation? How had she let it go on for so long? What would have happened if she had failed to escape? A violent shiver raked her at this. He would have raped her. There was no denying it. She would have ended up like Kurt, broken and stolen and lost for how to move forwards, how to live in a world that had condemned her to such a cruel fate, in a body that no longer belonged to her. It was terrifying and Rachel felt so ashamed for being this greatly effected when she had been able to run and Kurt had been trapped. She was no better than him. She acted like it sometimes but it was that attitude in fact that probably made him better than her. She could not stop the tears and the sobs and the shakes.
It took a long time for Rachel to feel stable enough to stand and walk away from the front door. It must have been an hour or so but when the calm finally settled it was as if a thick and heavy blanket had been laid over the fear and panic and insecurity and doubt, stifling it and allowing a new energy to fill her. If she crumbled, he won and Rachel was not going let that happen. She was going to walk away from this stronger and with a direction and a focus. Making her way down the hall towards the bathroom, it seemed an almost impossible feat. That fiery spirit she had once held in Lima had been lost from her heart in the overwhelming city for years. This was the first time in those long years though that she had felt the will to take it back.
It was then that she heard voices. They were soft, almost whispers, coming from the bedroom. There was music playing too and it was a tune she recognized from her childhood but could not quite place it. She approached the door cautiously, not wanting to disturb the boys but curious as to their activity. Her cheeks were still stained red with tear tracks that she wanted to rid her face of the evidence before anyone saw. The door was open slightly but Rachel thought it would be safer to peer through the gaps in the hinges. She crept close, her skin pressed right against the rough wood but the sight that greeted her took away all fears of splinters.
The boys were curled up on the bed together. Her baby brother was spooning her best friend while a Disney movie played on the laptop perched in front of them. The mumblings she had heard had not been a conversation but the lyrics to the song they were singing quietly along with that Rachel now recognised as 'I Can Go The Distance' from 'Hercules'. They were pressed close enough that Blaine was practically singing into the back of Kurt's neck. The other boy didn't seem to mind though. Even from her crude vantage point, Rachel could see that Kurt was relaxed. His shoulders and torso were slumped snuggly against Blaine's chest, their legs, lightly intertwined, and Kurt seemed to be absentmindedly playing with the younger boy's fingers where they rested in his.
Rachel found herself in almost an enchantment as she watched the two. Even though they were not pressed tight, their bodies seemed to mold into one another seamlessly and effortlessly. They had both been through so much but it seemed as if they were finally able to find solace in each other. Blaine was learning how to embrace the being he was born to be and Kurt was finding safety within his own body again. Rachel knew these processes would be slow moving but to see them seem so at peace with the world, even if that world simply consisted of the bed, the laptop, and the other boy lying next to them, ignited something within her, a stirring of sorts. Maybe it was a bit of that fire. It was hard to recognize. It had been gone for so long.
Maybe it was creepy but Rachel thought that she could have stood out in the hall all day and simply watched them be. In reality though, the short brunette knew how clumsy she could be and decided it was best to leave while they still lay blissfully unaware. She did not want to ruin their moment. Reluctantly, she pulled away from her spying local and continued on her way to the bathroom. A shower was in order.
Once the door was firmly closed, Rachel stripped of her tainted garments quickly. They had been touched by her captures, been into that retched building, reeked of alcohol and nicotine that had been exhaled by the vile beasts and maybe, although it could have been her imagination, smoke from the fire. She threw them roughly in the hamper although her eyes lingered on the trash can for a moment while the clothes were in her hands. She avoided the mirror like the plague once naked and faced with her own bare flesh. Her body felt too dirty and she was scared to look at it even though logically, Rachel knew that she would see nothing different. She was terrified to see a difference though because unlike the clothes, she could not simply strip her skin away. Trauma seemed to trump logic these days though.
Hastily, she climbed into the small shower stall and just as every time previous, prayed for hot water but was inevitably greeted by an arctic ocean. Water was water though and today it took very little will power to remain under its unsteady stream. The stench and grime from the club had latched onto her hair and from there, the visions of it seeping into her flesh were too vivid to not scrub her skin raw. In reality, Rachel was simply trying to rid herself of this life, scour the top layers of skin that had been bared for greedy men. She wanted to cleanse it of the memory so that when she stepped out of the shower, she could look at herself in the mirror and be greeted with the girl she knew herself to be and not the dirty, degraded, stripper she had become.
Rachel finally shut off the water and stepped out when the risk of hypothermia was becoming no longer simply a running joke between herself and Kurt. The room seemed warmer now, maybe even a little more welcoming and Rachel decided to forgo the towel as she rummaged through the vanity drawers to find her once coveted body lotion. She had abandoned it shortly after taking up the moonlighting gig. Those men were not the sorts to look your best for. They did not deserve to see her at her best. Her clean skin seemed to welcome it back though. It soaked it easily, soothing and revitalizing. She breathed in the light and heavenly scent of coconut, letting it chase away the booze and smoke. She grabbed her tooth brush next to rid her mouth of lingering toxins. Finally, she grabbed the fluffy pink house coat, embroidered with gold stars, off the back of the door and wrapped it securely around her body. Rachel practically melted in the soft fabric but she refrained from letting her mind go completely; there was work to be done.