Ok, so i know i said i would update more often, but i had ONE REVIEW for the last chapter, which kinda sucked. i know i have readers, so please review! this chapter is pretty intense, i worked very hard on it. so it skipped forwards a bit, i thought the day-by-day was a bit dull. just so you know, i did research cocaine withdrawl symptoms, and increased appetite is one of them. there's no shaking or sweating like with heroin, its mainly depression. just thought id clear that up before you guys yelled at me :) anyways, enjoy, AND PLEASEEEEE REVIEW!

Chapter 10

TWO MONTHS LATER

I woke up after yet another sleepless night. After Jesse had been sleeping here for so long, I still wasn't used to sleeping alone. But my dads had come home, and Jesse had bought an apartment across the street. He still spent most of his time here – or I went to his place if we needed privacy – but it wasn't the same. Of course, my parents didn't know anything about the drugs, or the fact he'd been sleeping in my bed for over a month – I'd told them that I'd bumped into Jesse at the store one day, discovered he'd decided UCLA wasn't for him, and we'd reconnected. They didn't know anything about last year; they were under the impression we'd parted amicably when Jesse left for UCLA, not wanting to destroy our relationship with attempts at long distance. In all fairness, that's probably what would have happened, had circumstances been different.

I was worried about Jesse. He had really good days sometimes, when he ate normal amounts of food, when he walked around with a spring in his step and a wide grin, when he loved me until I couldn't think straight…but then there were the bad days. The days when he trudged through the hours wearily, when he didn't want to be touched, when he could barely lift the corners of his mouth, and when he did, it never reached his eyes. Then I would find him in his apartment, crying over an empty pizza box, and I would hold him.

Even when he begged me to let him call his old dealer, even when he cried and screamed at me to let him, I didn't give up. I just held him, because I knew the person I was seeing wasn't Jesse. It was a depressed, squashed down version of the man I loved. Sometimes, he stayed in bed all day and did nothing but eat and watch daytime tv. I would rush over early each morning with a healthy breakfast, he'd eat lunch with me, and then I'd cook dinner. Those were the better days. Sometimes, on the bad days, he'd rush out of school before I could catch up, and order a family sized KFC. I'd find him in his apartment, staring at the empty containers as if he didn't know how they had got there. Then he'd see me, and cry, and cry, and cry.

There were some days that I didn't know how I was still coping, and the fact that I couldn't talk to anyone made it even harder. I constantly had to stop myself from considering the possibility that I was in a dead end relationship. Nobody understood. Sam of course knew the circumstances, but he only knew vague details, and I wasn't sure how I felt about telling him everything, much as I wanted to. Besides, it would feel weird talking to someone I knew, and Sam was often distracted by his growing crush for Mercedes. It had stopped being cute now, and frankly I found it deeply irritating that they were both clearly in love with each other, but neither said anything. The glances, the shy compliments…it made me want to tear my hair out. They would have a simple relationship, no complications, 100% Samcedes and nothing else. Why didn't they just go to Breadstix already?

'Hey Rach', someone shouted, breaking me out of my daydream. I glanced up, seeing Kurt. I managed a small smile. 'Hey', I said, collapsing into his hug. We walked to class, and I nodded along to what Kurt was saying – something about Blaine wanting Kurt to spend the night at his place – and allowed my mind to wander back to my problems. 'RACHEL!', he yelled after a few minutes. I jumped. 'Yes, I think that sounds good', I said, feeling slightly guilty for tuning out. He raised his eyebrows. 'You think that Blaine wanting to have sex with me when he's already had sexual relations, and the fact that I am crazy with fear for my own sake, never mind what my dad and Finn will say, 'sounds good'? Rachel, what is wrong with you? Seriously, you've been vacant and distant for weeks, you walk around in a state of constant depression, you hardly eat, you have bags the size of Texas under your eyes, you're not singing as much as you used to, people think you're even more of a freak than they already did, you've been distancing yourself from your friends, I know your grades have been slipping, and don't even get me started on your clothes', he told me.

All the criticism, combined with my constant worry, and everything else I'd been dealing with, made my eyes fill up. I tried to stop myself from crying, but some jock barged into me and I fell over, hitting my head on the lockers and banging my knee on the hard floor. I couldn't hold it in any longer, and I just cried. Huge tears splattered onto the floor, I was making a dreadful noise, I could feel snot dripping out of my nose, people were staring and laughing, but I honestly didn't care.

Kurt just stared at me awkwardly for a moment. I glared at him through my tears, and he just shook his head and walked away. I continued lying face down, crying for all I was worth. I heard the bell, signalling class, and heard everyone walk away. Eventually, I couldn't hear anything but my own sobs, still hysterical. After god knows how long, I felt someone pick me up. I didn't have the energy to struggle, or even open my eyes; I just let them carry me. I knew it was Jesse, I mean, who else would it be, but I couldn't let myself look at his face. If I looked at his face, I'd cry again. So I just lay still in his arms, with my eyes shut tight. I heard a door open, and then the wind blow over my face. We were outside. Just before I was about to start shivering, I heard a car door open, and then I was surrounded by the warmth of the seat. I breathed deeply to inhale the comforting scent of my car – but what I smelled was something different. I recognised it, though. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes. Shit. 'What…why…', I asked. The person smiled at me. 'You ok now? Good', they said emotionlessly. I was about to answer, when the key turned in the ignition, and soon we were speeding away from McKinley.

I screamed. 'What the hell? Stop the car!', but it was hopeless. The car just speeded up. I began banging on the windows. 'HELP! HELP!', and then something – no, someone – reached out to strike my arm. I screamed again. Then, the car stereo started pumping out loud, angry music, music I didn't recognise, music I never wanted to hear again. I tried screaming over the top of it, but the heavy bass and pounding drum beats overpowered me easily. I gave up and let the tears flow again. I felt another blow, this time on the side of my face. 'Why are you hurting me? Haven't you hurt me enough already?', I yelled. The car speeded up. I glanced at the dashboard. 'Fuck, slow down!', I shouted. 'I can't see anything! Everything's just a blur!' 'Well, that's the idea', they shouted back. Hours passed. Everyone would be getting lunch now. I thought longingly of pasta, of gossip, of normality. This was anything but normal.

I knew that retaliating was useless and crying would get me hurt. I glanced in the mirror at the bright red mark on the side of my face. 'Who do you think you are, running round, leaving scars?', I asked quietly. Because this wasn't the first time. This person had hurt me in more ways and times than I could count. No answer. 'Look, can you please just stop the car?', I begged, trying to keep my voice civil. Finally, we juddered to a halt. I could see we were in the middle of a forest. I tried to open the door, but the locks suddenly clicked. The door stubbornly refused to open. I took a deep breath. 'Why are you doing this? Come on, we were doing fine!', I said. 'No. We weren't fine. We got by. That was the extent of it. Of everything', they told me. I stared at the person beside me. So familiar, yet so unrecognisable. 'You've hurt me. You've hurt me emotionally, for so long, and now you've hurt me physically. You didn't mean for all of the hurt, I know you didn't. But when you raised your hand just now, and bought it down on my face, on my body, you sure as hell did mean to hurt me', I explained, trying not to cry again.

There was silence for a moment, until they spoke. 'You know, I never understood why people beat others. I just couldn't get my head around how it could possibly make you feel better, make you feel good. I didn't see how people could enjoy it. It always seemed sick. But when you're faced with someone so vulnerable, so helpless and fragile…and you try it…it feels so good. I know I should be sorry, but honestly, I'm not', they told me. 'Sure, I've pushed people, I've thrown the occasional punch, but that was different. This feels…more exciting. And no-one can see us…I could just keep hurting you forever and no-one would know', they explained wistfully. I shivered with fear. 'Please, please don't. I'll do anything. Anything', I begged.

The person who was sat just inches away from me raised their eyebrows, intrigued. 'Anything? Well in that case…', and suddenly my seat was reclined all the way back, and they were straddling my body. I knew what was about to happen. 'Anything but that', I said, my voice barely a whisper. 'Ah, but you said anything. So we're gonna do it. I always wanted to do it with you, Rach', they grinned at me. I felt sick to my stomach.

I gave up trying to struggle after my first few attempts were easily stopped, and then my hands were tied around the back of the chair. I couldn't escape. So I decided not to scream, though I knew it was wrong. I lay there and breathed. I saw the clumsy fingers unbutton my blouse. 'You're so beautiful', they whispered to me. It wasn't right, though. It didn't make me feel special, like the last time I was told I was beautiful. It made me feel dirty. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it, tried not to feel it. But once the hands made their way up my thighs, towards my pants, I remembered the last time I was touched there. And this was not the same. This was rape. 'Please, don't, no. Don't, no…I don't want you to…you can't, you'll ruin everything', I sobbed. They stopped for a moment, hesitant. I met their gaze. Those eyes…they used to hold so much for me, or at least I thought they did. Not anymore.

I took a deep breath and tried not to cry as I stared into the eyes of the boy in front of me. 'You know that this isn't right, Finn'

Ok, what did you think? If there's finn/finchel fans out there, please dont hate me. remember, this is fanfiction.

Anyways, I only had ONE REVIEW for the last chapter, so I'd like some more please. Or there will be an even longer gap between chapters next time...so review. Reviews are the thunder to my road.