"I don't wish to be everything to everyone, but I would like to be something to someone." -Javan
The thing about missing someone, I mean really truly missing them, is that the longer you are apart the harder it gets. Each day, sometime between the stream of sleep and consciousness, I think of Aden and each day the memories get harder and harder to bare. The dreams and memories are relentless; a barrage of images from my future, which is dangling in the balance, attacks my subconscious mind. Each little snapshot, a moment I will forever remember, becomes further etched into my memory.
The wobble in Aden's gait as he took his first steps, and the determination etched upon his face as he first learned to run. The way he cowered from the gorillas at the zoo, eyes wide in amazement and fear. The way the rubber swimmers scratched and scraped at my skin as we floated about the pool, his body trembling with fear and with laughter. The way he would cuddle into my side, his head resting against my chest, as I lay with him in bed and read him his nighttime story.
I'm worried that as time goes on I will forget him; the way he smelled, the sound of his laugh, the dimples in his cheeks as he smiled. The longer I stay away from him, the longer I am back here with Noah, the guiltier I feel for leaving him behind. The thought that really, truly, terrifies me though, happens just after I wake up. I wonder, sometimes, if it wouldn't be better if I could just forget it all.
#
I've never really believed in luck. I'm more of an 'always be prepared just in case,' kind of girl. So when an emergency casting call gets sent out for a show that is actually ON Broadway, I don't hesitate (even though it's only a minor part). The moment I walk into the room and begin to read the lines on the page, I feel the rightness of it all. The moment, the character, the entire scene plays out like my life, almost as if this part was written for me.
They call me back that afternoon.
It's a tedious process of "hurry up and wait"; a limbo of sorts. I find myself throwing my frustration, my fears, everything I have into the role. After hours of hard work there are two of us left, I'm already physically and emotionally exhausted.
I'm not in the least bit surprised when they tell me that I've gotten the part.
I wait until I get back home to let the tears fall. Noah is on the couch, his guitar on his lap, and a composition notebook open next to him. He looks up when I enter and I can't help the huge smile or the squeal that escapes my lips at just seeing him.
His arms are around me, picking me up and twirling me through the living room. An uncontainable laughter bubbles from deep inside both of us. It's only when we are both out of breath that we collapse on the couch.
"I fucking knew you could do it, baby. You're my little star." I can't help but beam at the pride in his voice.
#
My new job is cause for celebration, which is how I find myself out on a Thursday night. San and Britt have managed to set the whole thing up and invite everyone along. It isn't until we've left the restaurant and we're at the club, the music pulsing around us, that I realize I haven't really even looked at Finn the entire night. For some reason, I feel guilty, but try to push the thought out of my mind as quickly as I can.
After I've had a few drinks, I let Noah pull me to the dance floor. Our bodies are swaying to the rhythm of the music and I can't help but think all sorts of dirty things. Noah is keeping me close to him, his hands on my hips, when suddenly Finn walks out and taps Noah on the shoulder. He has a sheepish grin on his face, but I can feel the undercurrent of tension that is boiling between the two.
"Whatever," Noah mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. His nonchalance is an act so absurd that I think Santana and Brittany can see his glare from all the way across the room. "I'll get us some more drinks, babe." He wraps his arm tightly around my waist, his lips lingering on my temple and then he walks away.
"You two need to play nice," I find myself muttering as Finn wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him. His arms wrap all the way around me and I find myself relaxing into his familiar embrace. I can feel the eyes of our friends on us; feel them watching each movement that we make.
"I'm trying Rach," Finn answers so softly, I can barely hear his voice above the sound of the music. His rhythm hasn't improved much in the years since we were in Glee and I find myself leading him. "You were mine first."
I want to literally scream at the top of my lungs. I'm sick of the pissing contest, sick of constantly defending my decisions to everyone. I can feel the tips of his fingers grazing the skin on my back and find myself pulling away from him. His touch brings memories back that I try and fight even as I look into his eyes. Something about meeting his gaze makes more of the memories rush back and I'm suddenly so confused. "Finn, I'm with Noah now and you need to accept that." My voice comes out gentler than I would like it to.
There is a nervous tension between us as he pulls me back to him. My back is rigid and I am trying with all my might to bite my tongue and not lay into the man in front of me. I don't know what he is expecting out of this conversation, but whatever it is, it sure as hell isn't happening.
"I'm trying, Rach," his voice is hesitant but strong as he speaks loudly over the music so that I can hear him, "I really am. But it doesn't mean that it's easy to see you two all over each other."
"Noted," my voice is tight and strained and I find myself willing the song to finish. I look over his shoulder at Noah, who is standing at the bar a gaggle of girls around him. He looks up from his drink towarrds the two of us and meets my eyes, a sheepish smile on his face.
By the time the song ends I've worked myself up into a tizzy. I'm so upset and irate that I storm past everyone, slamming the bathroom door behind me. This is supposed to be my night; we are supposed to be celebrating and instead it's slowly turning into a shit storm of drama. Tina and Brittany are right behind me and they click the lock behind them, their eyes scanning my face, trying to read my emotions.
"I'm done," I state, my arms thrown up in the air, "I'm fucking done with all of them." I can feel the tears threatening to spill over my lids as my voice rises.
"I can't be fucking everything to everyone. This was supposed to be my night; we were supposed to be celebrating me!" I lean against the sink, my shoulders sagging in defeat. "Instead I have to listen to Finn telling me that I was his first and watch Noah flirt with a bunch of Barbie's in an attempt to piss me off because I'm dancing with Finn. Can't either of them just fucking grow up?"
Britt leans her head on my shoulder and I can feel Tina rubbing her hand gently along the expanse of my back. "They're stupid." Britt states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Misguided," Tina corrects. "I'm pretty sure that Santana is out there right now scaring the life out of both of them." For some reason this comment causes all of us to chuckle softly. I wipe the few tears from my face and try to fix my makeup the best that I can.
"I think," I sigh and close my eyes, "I need a night away."
"Hell yes, girls night, I'm on it," Britt squeals in excitment, pulling out her phone and texting San. Moments later she's bursting her way into the bathroom. She has a scowl on her face and her hair is literally standing up in some areas.
"Fucking boys, let's blow this joint." Santana growls, her hand reaching out and grabbing mine.
I'm ushered through the crowd, barely catching a glimpse of the guys as I'm shoved out the door. Before we even get in the cab, I can hear the chime of my phone alerting me of a new text. I've decided I'm done with anymore drama for the night, so I had Britt the phone, with instructions to text Noah and Finn that I'm refusing to speak to either of them for the rest of the night.
For some reason this makes Santana hugely proud. "Shit, B, you've finally grown some balls when it comes to those two. It's about damn time!"
#
I wake up the next morning, a blizzard of pillows around me, and a heavy feeling in my stomach. San and Britt are in their kitchen, whispering quietly as they both sip on coffee and munch on scones. Tina is sprawled on the couch, a gentle snore escaping her lips. I fight the strong urge to delay my departure. I want to go sit down with them; gossip and chat, maybe even nibble on my own scone and sip my coffee. Anything, really, to delay the inevitable, but instead I grab a scone and a cup of coffee and call a cab to come pick me up, whispering goodbyes as I head down to the lobby.
When I finally make it back to my apartment I can't help the guilt that is starting to eat me up inside. Isn't running from my problems what got me in this position in the first place? As I get off the elevator, I pass by the laundry area, and begin to get a familiar feeling, one that I would get after taking a walk of shame. I can feel our neighbors scanning over me, noting my previous night's now wrinkled ensemble, and quietly unlock my door.
I make my way quietly into the apartment, quickly taking note of the body lying sprawled on the couch. A blanket is wrapped haphazardly around Noah, tucked and twisted so much that it's hardly covering him. I can see the lines of tension in his face, the way his brow is puckered with worry. It's a steep contrast to how he normally peaceful why he looks when he is sleeping. I place a soft kiss on the lines, letting my hand linger on his cheek before making my way to our bedroom.
I pull off my dress and heels, grabbing one of Noah's shirts to throw over my head. Grabbing my book from the nightstand I make my way back towards my reading chair in the corner of the living room. I'm half way down the hallway when I see him. He has dark bags under his eyes and his shoulders are sagged, he looks exhausted and I wonder if he slept just as fitfully as I did.
Our eyes meet and I can see a sadness in them that makes me break. My chest is contracting so harshly that it makes it hard to breathe and I find my breaths catching in my throat. He moves slowly towards me, his hands wrapping around my waist and pushing me against the wall, his body molding to mine.
"I'm so fucking sorry," his voice is broken, deep with worry and his hands tangle into my hair and his lips meet mine, folding and wrestling with first the top and then the bottom. I can feel his fingers tracing the line of the shirt against my thighs and I wrap my arms around him, playing with the stubble at the base of his neck. His mouth moves from my lips to my ear and I feel him nibble it gently. "I'm such a jerk, you deserve so much better. I fucked up and I am so sorry. I love you, B."
He lifts my legs to wrap around him, pulling me closer to him, as he nuzzles my neck. I can feel the beat of his heart against my chest, the steady rhythm soothing me like a balm. "I thought you weren't coming back." His voice is rough, grainy with exhaustion.
"You need to stop comparing yourself with Finn." I prod him gently, my voice almost a whisper. "There is no comparison." He nods his head into my neck and I swear I can feel wetness on my skin. My hands rub gently against his scalp, my nails massaging the area. I stop the massaging for a moment and pull his face up so he can look me in the eyes. I need him to understand how serious I am. "I'm not leaving you."
I let him digest my words for a moment before continuing. "But you need to stop reverting to your Puck-like ways every time you get pissed. How the fuck do you think I felt seeing you with those girls? And don't think I didn't know what you were trying to do mister."
"Rach," he whispered huskily almost pleadingly, "I love you."
"I love you too," I replied placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, "more than you will ever realize."
#
Lima, Ohio is everything I remember it to be from my childhood. The quaintness of the neighborhoods, the small town charm, the people; everything is the same. Everything that is, except for me. I turn onto Main Street and drive past the high school and a few shops before pulling into the 7-11.
Something about being home makes me nostalgic and I find myself purchasing a grape slushie and sipping on it as I continue to drive towards my old house. The roads and routes are familiar to me, yet I find myself staring out the window looking at the people I pass. I've avoided this place since I've been back, the familiarity of it all, running from the memories.
When I pull into the driveway, I'm not surprised to find that Dad and Daddy aren't even home. I had foregone calling them, hoping that luck would be on my side and I would catch them. I trudge up to the steps and turn over the lone pot, pulling the spare key off and letting myself into my childhood home.
I press speed dial 2 on my cell phone as I plop down on the couch, my head resting back against the cushions.
"Hey B," Noah's voice is gruff and he sounds tired and a bit worn, "you made it ok?"
"I did," I find myself nodding even though I know he can't see me. There has been a weird heaviness over us for the past few days, and I'm tired of the drama. "I had to stop and get a grape slushie first; you know how much I love grape slushies." A giggle escapes my lips and I can't help but smile when I hear his groan, "Purely for nostalgic purposes, of course."
"Of course," he replies and his voice sounds lighter, instantly happier. "It had to be grape!" He chuckles slightly and I find myself smiling stupidly into a pillow, feeling a bit relieved. We could still banter and joke so that had to be a good sign, didn't it?
"Dad and Daddy aren't home and I'm sitting here in our big ol' house all by my lonesome." The thing I loved about Noah was that he could see right through my bullshit and into the core issue, which also happens to be something that completely annoys me.
"It's fucking weird being back there, isn't it?" He questions and I can hear the softness in his tone. I know that he was worried about me taking this trip on my own. I also know that if he could have gotten off work that he would have been sitting right beside me instead of sitting in our apartment.
"It doesn't feel like home anymore," is my simple response. I hesitate for just a moment and then force myself to say the words I have been thinking the whole drive here. "You're my home now, Noah."
I can hear the gruff undertone of the low growl he emits and can just picture the look on his face. The thing with Noah is that he gets possessive, very possessive. When you play into that possessiveness, when you let him know that you are his, it really gets to him. "Thanks babe," he groans and I can hear the shuffling of what sounds like papers, "Now I'm going to have to take a cold shower before I meet Chang. Speaking of, I've got to go."
"That's fine. Dad and Daddy should hopefully be home soon, anyways. Have a good night, Noah. Love you." I can't help the sadness in my voice, or the wistful sigh that escapes my lips.
"Love you too." I wait for the click before setting my phone down on the coffee table. Turning on the television, I make myself comfortable as I wait. I've waited this long to tell Dad and Daddy the news, I suppose I can wait just a little longer.
Quick apology on my part… I literally re-wrote this chapter 3 times before sending it to my beta and begging her to do something with it. Between my computer trouble and hers, it took a while to get it out. I think between the two of us, though, it turned out pretty damn good!
I'm kind of a review whore… you're reviews last chapter were epic win and made me smile. You guys are awesome!
If you haven't checked it out yet… Go to my profile and click the link for my live journal account. I've been fascinated by the Puck/Rachel drabble meme and have written stories for a few of the prompts. All drabbles can be found by clicking on the drabble tag!
Now it's your turn… (And I'm curious)… What "prompts" would you like to see for this story? What do you want to see happen?
Coming up: Back-story galore!