Slightly shorter than the rest, but the end of this part acts as a very natural break for the story, so I figured I wouldn't keep you guys waiting any longer than strictly necessary. After all, you've waited enough! :3

Until about 5am, Jesse slept soundly.

He was still tired when he woke, but sleep seemed as far out of his reach as ever. Afraid to toss and turn lest he disturb the dreaming angel lying beside him, he found himself content to just hold her as she laid, tangled half in his sheets, half in him.

Last night still felt as much like a dream as ever, and Jesse couldn't help the way his stomach seemed to constrict at the thought of their actions.

He'd meant it, of course, when he'd said that he felt certain that his sex life was over now. But she'd wanted him. After all her protesting any hope for a relationship between the two of them, she'd wanted him.

Why?

Was it that easy for her to pity him? Was that all he'd been? A pity-fuck?

The thought was infuriating enough to drive him out of bed, all thoughts of wishing he could keep Rachel from waking up because of any undue disturbance out the window. It was much easier getting around now without his cast, even without his vision, and he'd managed to, through careful taste-testing of whatever he was picking up, even figure out what he was eating most of the time.

In this instance, however, the carton of orange juice did just fine as a morning companion, Jesse content to hop up onto the small kitchen counter to brood. The only thing that was missing from it was vodka, and he certainly wasn't about to go searching, not only for his collection, but the right one out of the mixture, as well.

Why would Rachel do this to him? Lead him on for weeks and finally decide that she pitied him enough to sleep with him? Why wait until after he'd been rid of his cast? If he'd never drawn her attention to the fact that he knew she was in the shower with him, would she have done anything? Had he not fallen, would she have pressed herself up against him, washed him, let him do the same for her?

"... what are you doing up?"

"Nothing."

She was by his side almost instantly, her voice sounding just as concerned as he imagined her face to look. "What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong? What's so unbelievably wrong with me being by myself?"

"I just thought..."

The silence from his end spoke for itself, Jesse leaning against the wall behind him, jaw set, staring at nothing. Being angry with the world was so much less effective when you couldn't look it straight in the eyes, stare it down, nitpick at every last flaw there was.

This wasn't fair.

"Do you... want some breakfast, Jesse?"

"I don't know!" he snapped at her, jumping off the counter, "don't I normally want breakfast? What's so different about today?"

"Jesse, please."

"Please what, Rachel? Please don't ever fucking touch me again? Please don't ever mention to anyone that I dared to sleep with you? Please just leave whenever Finn comes over so I can sleep with him instead?"

"Jesse!"

"I'm so sick of being led on by you, Rachel!"

"I'm not leading you on!"

"Just- leave, okay? Please?"

It wasn't until the door to the bathroom slammed and he heard Rachel's choked sob escape her that the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach really began to set in and take hold, guilt threatening to choke him.

Running an agitated hand through his hair, the sound of Rachel's cries tore at his heartstrings hard enough to make him ache until he simply stepped out into the hallway to sink to the floor.

He shouldn't have cared this much, and he wanted, more than anything, to hate Rachel for it. But that was a pipedream, his own self-hatred engulfing any last hope of there being room for her.

Jesse could picture her, of course, all sniffles and tissues and tear-stained, blood-shot eyes. But he didn't have to look at her, and that made it all the easier to just ignore all of it, ignore that it ever happened.

By the time she left the bathroom, he'd returned to bed, pretending to be asleep. He'd hoped, so desperately, that she'd wrap her arms around him from behind, snuggling up and falling asleep like that, but she loyally stayed on her end of the bed, as though afraid to touch him at all. For the first time since she'd started sleeping in his bed, they didn't wake up tangled.

Over the next several weeks, things had settled into a tense routine once more, the two of them coexisting more than anything else. The magic had left them, the spark that had driven them to dancing in the middle of the room, to sharing not only their bed together, but their bodies with each other, melding into one perfect being in their love-making.

Not touching him was soul-wrenching.

"I was right, you know," he muttered softly under his breath over the lasagna she'd made for both of them, causing Rachel's head to snap up.

"Right about what?"

"That no one would fuck a blind guy willingly."

Her chest tightened at his words, and she frowned at her plate. "Jesse-"

"I read this article about how a woman married a blind man upon being bribed to do it. For a pretty good sum of money."

That line of conversation she hadn't been expecting.

"I'm sure that other blind people wouldn't mind marrying a blind person. Besides, it would be sweet if they found each other."

That earned a chuckle. "What are the odds of two blind people finding each other in the first place?"

He was grinning at her, but Rachel felt frozen in her spot. Was she supposed to laugh? It was funny, but at the same time, it was offensive enough that he might become upset if she did.

On the other hand, he was outrightly laughing by now.

It was the most wonderful sound she'd ever heard, she was certain of it. It had been far too long.

A soft, happy noise escaping her, she reached forward to grab his hand, tears getting the better of her. "You're- you're getting better, Jesse."

"Couldn't have my mom's generous stipend money funding my therapy bill going completely to waste, right?"

"Jesse," she whispered happily through a haze of tears as she moved forward to let her arms wrap around him, holding him close. He smelled of everything clean and wonderful- freshly washed clothes airing out on a warm summer day, and the faint lingering scents of cedar, and pines.

In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to pull back and kiss him, take him to bed, make love to him, be happy together. Forever.

So she pulled away, lump in her throat seemingly stuck there permanently now.

"Hey," Jesse heard Rachel come in, the door closing behind her with a slightly thud as he shifted in his seat, expression terse. "You're being awfully quiet."

"So," he started slowly, drumming his fingers rhythmically against the tabletop. "Guess what I found today."

"... what?"

She sounded wary enough that it felt downright gratifying in his chest, though the ultimate payoff was nonexistent. It still hurt. All of it. Being betrayed had always left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he fought to keep his jaw even just slightly relaxed as he glared at the table, pulling the offending object out of his pocket and letting it slam onto the table.

"I know what a pregnancy test feels like, Rachel. When, exactly, had you been planning on telling me that you were pregnant?"

"I-I- I'm not pregnant, Jesse."

Clenching his teeth, he felt all of the air in his lungs leave him at once, glaring at her with more bitterness than even he was used to.

"I... I skipped a period, and I just thought I'd make sure. It was just a scare, that's... that's all."

"And you didn't think that this was something I might want to know about?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't think it would matter to you! Like you'd care!"

"Why the fuck wouldn't I care, Rachel?"

The venom was back in an instant, visions of his past making himself known with a vengeance as he fought back the urge to hit things.

"Jesse, we only had sex one time before you suddenly refused to touch me again! Like I'd... infected you, or something! Don't you think that hurt? Didn't you think that night mattered to me?"

"I will not be your pity fuck, Rachel!"

Rachel's voice had always held a shrill quality to it when she got angry, one that set him on edge and made it far too easy for him to start bellowing at her, anger bubbling forth like from a wellspring, contained for far too long to still be healthy. Therapy was fixing a lot of things. But it was never going to be able to fix Rachel for him.

"Is that what this is about? You think I wanted you just because you were blind and I felt sorry for you? You asshole! I'm in love with you!"

In retrospect, Rachel's decision to chuck a pillow at his head was a mistake, Jesse moving to catch it with surprising grace as his reflexes guided him.

For a moment, everything was silent, Jesse staring at the pillow in abject horror as Rachel, unblinking, seemed frozen in disbelief.

"N-no, that's not..."

"Rachel-"

"You- you're-"

"Don't."

The warning seemed to be enough of an indication, Rachel slowly shaking her head as she stared at him, not wanting to really believe that he'd lie to her about something this huge.

"You know... I-I kept thinking I was going crazy. Thinking that- that you were actually looking at me after months of nothing, never quite hitting where you meant to. But then we had sex that night and it took me a second to realize through my stupid, desperate haze of... wanting it so badly but not being able to being myself to actually believe that you were lying to me-" her voice cracked with the weight of a sob, and she found herself staring at the wall, like some kind of karmic retribution for his ability to look at her now, unwilling to meet his gaze. He couldn't feel his feet anymore, everything seeming to go numb as he stared back at her. "You should have told me. We could have been happy together and celebrated that it was coming back, but instead you... barricade yourself in and away from me and betray me like that and make me wonder why I ever thought I could trust you again just like that- I can't believe you'd lie to me about this for so long and then get mad at me when I didn't tell you that I skipped a period?"

"It was more than that, I-" her being pregnant was both of their issues, no matter how much she wanted to make this about herself alone. His health was another story. "I didn't want to be wrong, Rachel! For fuck's sake, how the hell was I supposed to know that it was going to stick? For all I knew, I was going right back to where I just came from! I didn't want to get either of our hopes up!"

"It's not about hoping! It's about telling a doctor so he can see if he can make it stick! What if it had gone back to the way it was before, just because you didn't get help?"

It was a fair point, but it didn't do much to help the sickening feeling in his stomach. He couldn't have told her. Couldn't have let himself hope for something like this.

"Who says I didn't go to the doctor, hm?"

"By yourself? Jesse, I know where you are twenty-four hours of the day, seven days a week," she whispered quietly, trying hard to keep her rage contained. But that was the whole issue. Who was she to keep him cooped up? Tell him what to do? He was a grown man, and Rachel wasn't his mother.

"I could have walked."

"No, Jesse. You couldn't have."

"So what, you get to control where I am and what I do, and yet I can't even be graced with a goddamn heads-up telling me that I might be a dad?"

He'd expected her to be so much more upset, so much more livid- not for her to turn from him, take a deep breath, and attempt to control her emotions. Was this what all of this was really about? The goddamn baby?

"It's not like you would have cared, Jesse."

It stung so much worse than it should have, Jesse feeling as though she'd just torn his heart out of his chest.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Jesse, you... I never even thought you'd want to be a father. It's not like your dad set a good example. You- you hate him. Your whole family is... a mess. You would have probably had a panic attack. And your relationship with your mom, I mean-"

"Rachel," he ground out slowly, not sure that he could hold himself together, not sure that he really wanted to anymore. "You have n oidea what you're talking about."

"You won't tell me anything! First, I thought it was just the thing with your mom, or your... endless brooding because you were still getting over how bitter and angry you were, but now I find out that you've been lying to me about this? That you can see me? Jesse, you can't tell me that that would be a good thing to base a relationship on, let alone a family!"

"I think you should leave."

"If I do that, I'm packing my bags, and I'm never coming back, Jesse."

What was he supposed to say to that? He wanted, so badly, to go back to that place they'd been earlier, Rachel shouting at him that she was in love with him, to kiss her and forget what an asshole he'd been this whole time. But the words refused to come out, Jesse staring at her through still muddied, clouded eyesight as he fought to verbalize what he wanted to tell her.

I love you. Please don't go. I need you. I can't imagine my life without you anymore.

Why did those things have to be the ones hardest to say?

"Fine," she whispered, shaking her head as she stared at the floor, looking broken. "Fine. I'll- I'll just go then."

The next half hour passed in complete silence between them, Jesse just waiting for the door to slam.

Now that he could see again, even just slightly, the last thing he wanted to have to watch was this. So he kept his eyes closed, just waiting for the sound that would signal his inevitable return to loneliness, a well-worn, comfortable place that he knew too well.

And yet, somehow that didn't help the heartbreak of hearing her break apart with the weight of a sob after she'd finally shut the door on him like he deserved.