Caught In Your Bad Romance

She was officially mentally unstable.

Rachel had been over the whole thing a hundred times or more – digging away with a determination that was bordering on obsession – and it was the only explanation for her behaviour that made any sense.

She had been home and dry. She'd made a clean break, said her goodbyes and put the entire, tragic misstep behind her. She'd been thrown a lifebelt, given an out, a chance to put her world back on the right track – but had instead turned to jump straight back into the dangerous rapids she had just escaped from. She shook her head, a dark humour twisting her lips. She really was a masochist. Maybe she was already too far gone to be saved. She was like an addict: hooked on the worst kind of vice and utterly bent on destroying their own life.

She dimly recalled falling asleep last night: the comforting feel of his arms wrapped around her, holding her close against him; the warmth of his body beside hers and the irrational sensation of contentment that had settled over her in her last conscious moments – like she was somehow right where she was supposed to be.

She had woken to find him gone.

Rolling over and stretching out her sleepy limbs, she had reached blindly across the pillows and touched cold, empty air. Blinking her eyes open with a frown, she had a sudden moment of disorientation; unsure whether she had just imagined the whole encounter after all. Her chest tightened and a black pit formed in her stomach as she struggled to comprehend the cruelty of her own mind – how it could taunt her with such a vivid dream; how it could mimic his presence with such seductive clarity.

Hauling herself up, she rubbed a hand roughly across her eyes and tried to clear her foggy thoughts, ordering herself to get a grip. It was then that her gaze had fallen upon the bowl and cloth by her bed, the discarded antiseptic bottle on her nightstand, and the full memory of the previous night had rushed back to her. The solid proof that laid her doubts to rest, only to rouse up a fresh assault of confused emotion in its place. He'd really just upped and left. Rachel tried to curb the sting of hurt and resentment at the realisation, tried to tell herself that she shouldn't have been surprised, but that didn't stop her heart from pinching inside her chest – wound up tight with knots of worry and regret.

The grey light of pre-dawn was only just starting to creep into the dark sky outside, and she wondered vaguely what time it was. Still bleary eyed, she shuffled over the bed and threw out a clumsy hand to pull her digital clock closer and accidently knocked her cell phone to the floor. It was as she leaned down to retrieve it, that she noticed the blinking light.

Didn't want to wake you.

She felt her lips curving in warm relief as she read over the message, her whole body relaxing even as her heart skipped faster, and she didn't know exactly why. It was hardly an undying declaration or a romantic Shakespearean sonnet, but somehow that simple text held equal meaning just then. It was an unspoken promise that he didn't intend to just slip away into the night again; a subtle acknowledgement of the changing foundations of their relationship.

Rachel blinked, stumbling over her own thoughts. The word had slipped through her mind unbidden, bringing with it a sudden swell of panic and doubt as she tried to correct herself. How did this happen? When had this stopped being a destructive mistake and become a relationship again?

Thankfully, she didn't have much time to dwell on this troubling new twist as her dads knocked on her door just a short while later, popping their heads in to say a last goodbye before leaving for the airport. Perhaps it was a good thing Jesse had left when he did, she realised suddenly. It would have been more than a little awkward if they had come in to find her sleeping in Jesse's arms; a boy neither of her dads harboured overly fond feelings for. She'd never told them about the egging but they'd been quick to gather that the relationship hadn't ended on good terms, and it would be rather hard to explain his presence back in her life – let alone in her bed.

And so she'd hugged them tightly, wished them luck at the conference, smiled and promised them she'd be careful. They promised they would text her as soon as they landed safely, told her to have a good week, before with a last kiss and embrace, they left to catch their flight.

Rachel immediately put her radio on to her favourite station, cranked up the volume, regardless of the early hour, and threw herself into the bathroom – desperate to drown out her thoughts for a while.

/o/

The school day passed in a bit of a numb haze for Rachel, wandering on auto-pilot from class to class, hoping that no-one really noticed or cared that she was taking a back seat and not raising her hand with the enthusiasm she usually showed. It took all her concentration just to make half-intelligible notes out of the endless, monotone lectures that assaulted her ears throughout the day; forcing her brain to focus through the general noise of her classmates and the exhausting mental stress that hung over her mind like a dark cloud. Schoolwork was the last thing she felt like doing, but study she would. Rachel point-blank refused to let her grades start slipping over a boy. Any boy.

By the time she walked into Glee rehearsal that afternoon, she knew her energy had dwindled to such a degree that not even her perfect façade of cheer could cover it. When Mr Schue came in and took a look around at the students that sat slumped across the seats, he seemed to show an unusual astuteness and actually pick up on the general atmosphere of fatigue. Rachel could practically see the tracks switch in his mind as he abandoned his usual pep talk about Regionals and instead clapped his hands together, cheerfully announcing that he thought it was about time they took a break from their set list and blew off some steam. Eyebrows shot up around the room, looks ranging from amused to suspicious passed between the members of New Directions as they considered just what their teacher had in mind.

Rachel asked the question – because she always did – curious and somewhat grateful for the distraction. No doubt the run up to Regionals had been particularly gruelling recently; the sheer pressure mounting up on them was enough alone to play havoc with anyone's nerves, and that wasn't even taking into account if your personal life was in the process of disintegrating around you.

Mr Schue spread his arms out to the club, throwing the floor open with the only edict being that it had to be an upbeat number and they were to enjoy themselves. And, well, that was pretty much like handing a bunch of fireworks to a group of unsupervised kids: reckless energy abruptly spiked and sparks flew. If there was one thing New Directions could do – it was improvise.

The boys sprang up out their seats before the girls could beat them to it, and with a quick word to the band, immediately took to the floor.

Rachel grinned as the opening chords of 'Livin' On A Prayer' pounded through the choir room in a high octane beat that drew a loud whoop and cheer from the watching girls. Finn took lead vocals but everyone was soon singing along, bellowing out the big notes and throwing their arms up with a gleeful abandon that had them sporadically breaking down in laughter.

Patrick sidled over with a mischievous look and pulled Mercedes up on her feet first, followed almost immediately by Tina and Amelia, who tugged Kurt up along with them. Brittany clasped hands with Santana as both girls quickly jumped down from between the seats to join the performance. Quinn playfully swatted Puck away as he tried to catch her hand, before he lost patience and finally picked her up around the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder, dragging her over to the floor amid peals of indignant shouts and laughter. His tactic earned him a hard smack on the arm and a reluctant grin when he eventually put her down, to which he only chuckled and pulled her closer.

Rachel's smile froze the tiniest bit as Finn reached for her hand, but she instantly regained herself and closed her fingers around his as she allowed herself to be pulled up and into his arms. Everyone belted out the big chorus and Rachel tried to force herself to relax as she sang along equally loudly, reminding herself that she was dancing beside her boyfriend and surrounded by her teammates. Yet her body didn't seem to be on the same wave-length. Flashing a quick smile and not quite meeting his gaze, she artfully twirled herself out of Finn's embrace and lost herself in the group.

A genuine grin broke across her lips as she found herself in front of Mike, who immediately pulled her in for a dance, spinning her around a couple of times before slipping into some elaborate and ever impressive steps that she couldn't hope to emulate. And so she merely watched and smiled, buoyed by his energy and eternally grateful for his ability to somehow make her laugh when she needed it most. He grinned at her enthusiastic cheering and caught her up in a quick hug which she tightly returned, before they parted again. Rachel worked her way through the crowd, dodging around Tina and Brittany who were doing some light head-banging, before finally joining the safety of Mercedes and Patrick.

She almost didn't feel her phone humming inside her pocket, silently announcing the arrival of a new message, and when she realised what it was, she only just managed to catch herself from instinctively reaching for the small cell. She concentrated very hard on keeping her smile in place, bright and perfect and carefree, even as her good mood was quickly eclipsed by familiar anxiety and turmoil. A fresh ache tore through her heart and she really didn't know how much longer she could continue to live such a double life, without ultimately losing her identity or her sanity – or maybe both.

She tried not to flinch when Finn came up and wrapped his arms around her as the song came to a boisterous end. Everyone clapped and cheered, obviously in considerably better spirits, eager and energised once more. Rachel's demeanour was rather subdued in comparison, and she knew she was letting the team down in more ways than one.

Clenching her jaw in a painful smile, she begged her body not to give her away, praying that Finn couldn't feel the knots of tension that riddled her figure. The guilt was like a living thing inside her, twisting through her chest and wrapping around her lungs, squeezing tight until she felt like she was suffocating. She could feel her mind protesting vainly against the awkwardness that seemed to grip her so forcibly around him now; a discomfort that was too similar to the one she had felt when he had serenaded her in Jesse's absence, all that time ago. Backwards, everything is backwards.

Gently manoeuvring out of Finn's hold, she mumbled an excuse and took the chance to slip out to the corridors before Mr Schue could start the next part of the rehearsal. Following a ritual that had become almost second nature, she headed into the nearest bathroom and instantly withdrew her phone the moment she was sure she was safely out of sight.

Working late again? Mr Schue finally decided to get tough on you slackers?

She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she glanced down at his words. He could never resist having a dig could he? And he wondered why people wanted to hit him.

Watch it, St. James. Actually I don't know how late we'll be. The boys just did a Bon Jovi number – Mr Schue decided we needed a little de-stressor, so ordered us to do a fun performance first. We've not started on the Regionals set list yet.

Bon Jovi?

She could almost see his raised eyebrow through her phone screen.

There's nothing wrong with Bon Jovi.

If you say so.

Simmering amusement rang through his response and she could just picture the smirk at the edge of his lips. She thought about rising above it, but he just had a gift for provoking her already over-developed argumentative streak.

Oh right, because I suppose VA was always so high-brow?

At least we made an effort to be contemporary.

So Queen, circa 1975, is your version of contemporary?

Classic. There's a difference.

She rolled her eyes.

Thanks for the music lesson. Glad to see you're back to full strength.

Amazing what a little good medicine can do, huh?

Very funny. I'll take that as a thank you, shall I?

I was very impressed. You obviously have a latent Florence Nightingale complex – who knew? By the way, are you aware that you mumble in your sleep? I was almost blushing.

Rachel blinked as she read through his last message, feeling a sudden heat creep up her cheeks even though she knew (or hoped) he was just teasing her.

Liar.

Maybe. But you'll never know for sure.

The uncomfortable part was that she knew just how true that statement was for them. She hesitated, sensing that she had lingered too long in the secret exchange but unwilling to say goodbye. Shaking her head sharply, she told her herself to stop being ridiculous and quickly typed out her final message.

I should be home by 8. I really have to get back to rehearsal.

Good luck. I'll see you later.

Rachel's gaze flickered over the words of his parting text, unable to quite place the indefinable warmth that spread through chest as she read them. It was simple, sincere and effortless; a casual reassurance that neither needed yet still offered without a second thought. Even taking into account their mutual desire to always have the last word, it was another indication of the changing dynamic between them.

A soft smile pulled the corner of her lips, almost unconsciously. It was followed immediately by a frown. She snapped her phone shut and closed her fist around it, gripping tightly as if it were the only thing tying her to reality anymore.

Rachel knew she had a good life. Well, at least the best it had been in a long time. The Glee Club had at last begun to see her as more than just their ticket to victory and more like a friend – one of them. She was bringing their little group to national glory, slowly but surely, and pulling herself up the ladder to future stardom at the same time. She was finally with Finn, the boy she had been chasing for so long; the boy she had known she was meant to be with from the moment they'd met. The boy she loved. She should be happy. She should be content.

And yet…she couldn't stay away from Jesse.

She knew all the risks, knew the danger was only increasing with every passing day – but she just couldn't seem to give it up. It wasn't like she hadn't tried; she'd tried so hard. She'd had every reason to turn her back and never glance over her shoulder, to banish him from her life for all the crimes against her heart. And yet here they were again, treading that razor thin line between the dream and the waking world.

She wasn't prepared to let go of her life for him, to throw it all away on a fool's chance, even though a part of her knew that it was already far, far too late for that. But she just couldn't bring herself to imagine it could ever last. She knew him better than she liked to admit, and she knew how their story was destined to end. Because it would end – it always did. This was a stolen season, nothing more. He couldn't ask or expect her to give up everything she had worked so hard for. She refused to. She just had to find a way to survive this interlude until the curtain fell.

She looked down at the phone hidden within her white knuckles. She thought out to her teammates, waiting for her just down the hall. She knew where her loyalty should lie, it was a mistake she had sworn she would never make again, and yet her actions suggested otherwise: running away to secret rendezvous every night, defying her better judgement and betraying all of them.

She was so screwed if anyone ever found her phone. The thought alone was so frightening that she suddenly debated deleting every single one of their illicit texts. Rachel pulled a hand through her hair and closed her eyes. What was she doing? This was only going to end in disaster and then she would be right back at square one. Or worse.

What was wrong with her? Just what was it about them that kept drawing them back together, over and over again, stronger than all the hurt and distrust, lies and anger – binding them into each other's gravity.

Crossing to the sinks, she shoved her cell into her pocket and checked her appearance. Smoothing a hand over her hair, she straightened up and squared her shoulders as she prepared to resume her rightful role. She studied her reflection for a moment, shaking her head almost ruefully as she scrutinized the haunted eyes of the girl in the mirror.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she murmured.

Turning around without another look, she quickly headed out of the bathroom and back to real life. Pulling open the weighted door, she marched out into the corridor – and straight into Noah Puckerman.

Rachel faltered on her feet as she jerked to a stop; hastily attempting to regain her composure after being almost startled out of her skin. She narrowed her eyes at her unexpected company.

"Puck?" She spoke as normally as she could manage, hoping the edge of annoyance in her voice would conceal her guilty surprise. "What are you doing out here? Were you looking for me?"

"Yeah," he said slowly. He stood slouched against the lockers opposite, eyeing her with a thoughtful frown, and not looking the least bit amused at having just successfully made Rachel Berry jump like a frightened rabbit – something that gave her more concern than anything else.

She raised an eyebrow, gesturing impatiently as she waited for further elaboration. He gave her a long, appraising look that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. She realised he must have been waiting for her, and the thought did nothing to ease her nerves.

"Rachel, you're not knocked up are you?"

"What?" she squeaked, her eyes popping wide and her voice raising a few octaves higher than she'd intended.

He shrugged, apparently nonplussed by her indignant reaction. "You seem to make at least one trip to the bathroom during every rehearsal. I don't know. You just don't seem totally like yourself recently." A knowing memory shadowed his eyes, softening his gaze almost imperceptibly for a moment. "I've been through this before, remember? I can recognise the signs when I see them."

Rachel seemed to have lost the power of speech, as inconceivable as that notion was. She merely stared at him, expression frozen, blinking a little like a deer in the headlights.

Puck stepped forward, a grim set to his mouth. "Hey, if you need me to kick Finn's ass and get him to man up, I'd be more than happy."

The movement seemed to snap Rachel loose from her stupor, and she quickly shook her head emphatically, words rushing over each other as she hastened to correct him.

"No! No, it's nothing like that. I'm not…you know. At all. Everything's fine, really. I guess I've just been a little over-tired recently, what with school and Regionals coming up and everything. I mean, thanks, but it's nothing serious. I'll be fine."

Puck frowned, not entirely convinced. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, of course," she said confidently, already stepping away from him; backing up the hallway with a too-bright smile that felt false even to her.

Rachel couldn't help thinking that she would have laughed at the absurdity of it all, if her nerves hadn't already been strung out to breaking point. Hysteria was probably more of an option. She avoided Puck's eye for the rest of rehearsal but thankfully he didn't try and speak to her again. She could only hope that he would dismiss his misplaced concerns, and have forgotten about them completely by tomorrow.

Great; rumours that she was pregnant. That was all she needed.

Apparently she had to up her performance, watch her façade for any slips and be aware of herself at all times. She couldn't afford to attract any more attention.

Finn caught up with her in the corridor just after Mr Schue finally called it a night, and Rachel realised she may have rushed off a little too quickly. Moving to stand next to the lockers, she busied herself with putting on her jacket, doing everything she could to avoid meeting his eyes for too long.

"Hey, so are you still up for coming over to mine? I mean, I know we have that English paper to write, but we could still watch a movie afterwards or something."

"Sorry, I can't tonight. I'm actually late for a vocal lesson."

"Aren't those on Thursdays?"

"Yeah, but with Regionals so close, I decided to get some extra scheduled."

"Oh, okay."

Rachel felt a twinge cut through her gut as she realised just how well and effortlessly she could lie to people's faces now. It was hardly a skill to be proud of. Though of course, some might disagree. She glanced up and caught Finn's expression. There was a light frown on his features and he looked like he was about to speak again, but Rachel reached up and cut him off with a peck on his lips. She tried not to wince at the twisting knot in her chest, the warring instincts that shouted through her mind or the swelling burn of betrayal that hurt so much it nearly brought tears to her eyes. The worst and most disconcerting part though, was that she couldn't tell which way the tide of guilt was pulling anymore.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she promised softly when she drew back. Giving him a warm smile, she turned on her heel and moved to exit the school as quickly as she could without breaking into a full-on sprint; disappearing through the hallways before her mask could crack.

When had this happened? Rachel bit her lip sharply to keep the frantic despair and confusion at bay. When had the show face switched from Jesse to Finn? For whom did she actually have the strength to reveal herself: all masks dropped; bravado surrendered; fears and flaws exposed. It was only around Jesse that she felt relaxed these days; that she actually felt at home; like she could breathe again. Somehow the guilt receded in his company, the suffocating pressure warded off by the protection of his embrace; the ease and warmth of his presence fighting back the skulking shadows of her own conscience.

It was against all reason, and yet truth had a way of existing outside of logic.

The entrance door swung back against the brick wall with an almost violent force as Rachel blew out of the school and into the cool evening, wishing for nothing more than her mind to be wiped as clear as the vast, starless sky over her head.

/o/

The low music of familiar show tunes drifted lazily through her bedroom, filling the air with voices from Broadway stages past. The credits of 'Funny Girl' had finished rolling about ten minutes ago and she had since switched her laptop over to iTunes, which was currently shuffling its way through her extensive music collection.

Rachel was unusually quiet, lost in her own thoughts, as she let the chorus of famous songs wash over her in soothing currents. He didn't probe into her sudden introspectiveness, for which she was grateful; instead shifting only slightly to rest his cheek on top of her head as he continued to absently draw his fingertips through her hair. She listened with a sad smile as the opening notes of Aida's 'Written In The Stars' sang through her computer, and tucked herself tighter around him. They lay like that for a while longer, content in their mutual quiet; Rachel soaking in the comforting tempo of his breath as it ebbed through his body beneath hers.

"Jesse?"

"Hmm?"

She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she truly wanted to know the answer.

"Is this real?" she said finally.

She felt his fingers still against her head as he considered her question. "I'm not angry," she pressed on, taking herself by surprise with the calm truth in that statement, before shaking her head slightly. "I honestly think you've been living through roles for so long, you might not recognise a performance if you were in one anymore. But I – I have to know." She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the very real possibility. "Is this just another game? Some kind of pathetic male power play? Having me just because Finn does."

She could feel him twist to look down at her, watching the way she lay curled into his chest, head resting on his shoulder and hand tangled in his.

"Do you really think that?"

"I don't know," she admitted quietly after a pause, her voice soft. She glanced down at her fingers that were entwined with his over his stomach. A frown touched her face, as if she were trying to read the truth behind her body's instincts. "I don't know what I think about you anymore."

"That's comforting." She couldn't see his eyes in their current position, but she could hear the familiar guard than ran under the tease in his voice. "And yet you bring me to your bed?"

"I didn't bring you, if you recall," she corrected pointedly. "More like you invited yourself."

"Still," he murmured, brushing his lips against her temple with a smirk, "you haven't kicked me out yet."

"The night is young," she retorted, unable to help the lingering grin on her lips.

He laughed quietly, pulling her closer as she settled down against him once more. They listened to the score of 'Memory' for a while, absorbing themselves in the beautiful music and haunting voice of Elaine Paige, as she lamented woe and heartbreak in the light of the moon. Rachel shut her eyes and could see the famous scene playing out before her; she'd only seen the show live once, but it had made a big impression.

She stirred, opening her eyes again as Jesse tilted his head towards hers and spoke low in her ear.

"By the way, I meant to ask, how did the assignment go? Just out of curiosity."

A wry smile curved her lips. "Didn't turn out quite how I anticipated."

"Better or worse?"

She turned her head to meet his eyes, studying his face for a long moment. "Not sure yet," she said at last, smiling mysteriously before she lifted her chin and met his mouth in a tender kiss.

Gravity was a terrifying force. She could feel it pulling her even as she lay there; swirling through her mind and running through her blood, heavy with inevitability. The sensation only ever intensified when she was with him: growing bolder and darker with each shared look and secret touch, until it was almost screaming inside her head – surrounding them both like a volatile magnetic field that threatened to tear itself apart. A basic rule of nature that urged her downwards as she tumbled faster, caught in a tailspin, always with the daunting promise of impact.

You could only ever fall for so long, before solid ground caught up again.

~o~

AN: Okay, you're going to stop believing me soon, but I swear I picked that song for that scene before the girls did it in their 'Never Been Kissed' mash up! Ryan Murphy needs to stop poking around in my head *suspicious eyes* I didn't intend to be in Rachel's head for this whole chapter but it just came out that way and I didn't want to interrupt the flow. A day in her double life, I suppose. I thought it was about time for another appearance from New Directions, and a little more insight into her various relationships. Actions always have consequences and Rachel is starting to feel the effects. The outside world isn't about to just go away.

I can't thank you all enough for your continued support and kind words, they really mean everything :) I've been a little caught up in the holiday madness and I have a really stressful month coming up, but I promise I will get around to replying to everyone as soon as I can. Seriously, you guys are awesome.

Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed. Reviews make the sun shine brighter ;) Happy 2011!