I don't normally do this, but in this case I feel I need to. I'm posting a pre-warning for this chapter because of its content. This is not a happy chapter and it deals with some sensitive issues. –I don't want to give too much away so please read the A/N at the end.
"We never understand how little we need in this world until we know the loss of it." – James Matthew Barrie
For the next week, things are strained and our lives are grooved into a new routine. Each moment feels rushed, a frenzy of activity, with little thought. It's hard to believe that we've avoided talking about the one thing that looms in the room around us but we have. Finn's absence only seems to make pretending to forget all the more easier.
It's the middle of October and the leaves are gone, the air becoming crisper. It's just two short weeks until that eventful blustery night when everything between the two of us went wrong. I find myself ticking down each day, each moment, and questioning every decision that I'm making. I'm determined to make it this time, determined to not make any more mistakes.
Two days before my doctor's appointment, Noah tells me I'm smothering him. I can't say that the news is all that shocking; we've seemed to spend every spare minute together since the fight. While Noah spends the next day with Matt and Mike I find myself spending the afternoon with Britt and San at the mall. We're in the Gap waiting to try on clothes when I see the small polka dotted dress hanging in the baby section. I can't stop myself from holding the delicate fabric in my fingers.
"You should buy that," Britt's words float from behind me, "it would totally freak Puck out." My fingers slip through the silky material one last time before I place the item back on the rack and rejoin my friends.
"It's too soon," I reply ignoring the small drop I feel in my stomach.
The girls joke and laugh as we pull the clothes on and model them for each other in the mirrors. The atmosphere is lighter than it has been in weeks and it's a bit of a relief that things are slowly getting back to normal. By the time we get back to my apartment the strain and worry of the week have vanished and been replaced by an ease and acceptance of everything to come.
#
My doctor's appointment is scheduled in the afternoon between my morning rehearsals and Noah's night shift. He meets me outside the small private practice, his hands shoved into his pants pocket, as he paces next to the door. I can tell he is a bit on edge, his teeth biting at the edge of his lip, as I walk up to him.
He also stinks of cigarettes.
"I thought you quit?" I find myself questioning as I stop a few feet away from him, my nose scrunched in disgust.
"I just had one or two to help calm my nerves," he replies his shoulders sagging a bit at my obvious dislike. I'm trying to be understanding and I know that he is probably more nervous than I am about the whole situation so I nod my head and mentally remind myself to check his pockets and throw out his pack later.
The waiting room is swarming with people and there are a few kids playing on a small indoor play set in the corner. I check in at the desk and find myself sitting with Noah next to the fish tank. I can't take my eyes off of the small kids as they bound up the steps and slip down the small plastic slide.
Noah places his fingers against the side of my stomach and I can feel the heat of the tips burning into my skin. "Just think," he whispers, "all of that is growing inside this." He taps his fingers against my stomach a small smile on his face as he looks up at me. I can't help but smile in response.
We're called back a short time later. A sample of my blood is taken and I'm given a small cup to pee in. I make my way down the hall and into the bathroom, quickly filing the cup and capping it before slipping it into the plastic bag. The doctor talks to us briefly, setting up a follow up appointment, and promising to call when he has the results.
It's literally the longest day of my life.
The call comes in at four that evening. I'm getting ready to rehearse on stage when I hear my phone chime out from the vanity in front of me. I listen as the doctor explains the results, the tears filling my eyes as I tell him I understand.
I'm pregnant; like for sure doctor confirmed pregnant.
I can't wait until the end of the night to tell Noah, but I know that sending him a text message isn't the best way either. Instead I find myself skipping out of the theater early and heading the five blocks over to his office. It's a bit chilly but the wind feels good on my overheated skin and I find myself unbuttoning a few of my jacket buttons letting the breeze wash over me.
I'm so excited I can barely contain it and I make it to his office in record time. My mind wanders as I find myself walking through the building, wondering if Noah will be able to take an early lunch, when we will call and tell our parents and our friends, and if he has names in mind. Having the doctor confirm it has made it all the more real in my mind and I can't wait to share the news with him and for our first ultrasound.
I push his door open, not bothering to knock, and trollop into the room a huge grin on my face. The smile drops, however, when I see the woman kneeling on the floor in front of him. Noah's hands are gripping the arm rests and his eyes are clenched tight as she moves around.
I hear the clunk as my purse hits the ground.
His eyes open and meet mine and I can see the confusion and dismay on his face. I'm not sure what's happening or even if I say anything. I'm pretty sure that I'm crying, though, as the woman flips around to look at me. I look at his secretary for a moment, my head shaking, before I bend over and pick up my purse.
"Don't bother coming home." I tell him. I'm not sure if it's the tone of my voice or the look on my face but he doesn't say a word. The only thing I hear is the sound of my heart beating in my ears. Somehow I manage to dial Santana and I can't even find the words to speak let alone explain. My sobs fill the receiver and I hear her yelling something as she asks me repeatedly where I am.
I'm really not even sure.
I let the phone drop to the ground as my feet continue to move me away from the building. My heart feels like it's tearing apart and I'm having trouble breathing. Some lady stops and asks me if I'm alright and I can't even shake my head to answer her.
The words 'if only' keep playing over and over in my brain. If only I hadn't wanted this so much. If only I had been happy in my previous life. If only things had been different. If only.
I'm not sure how I find myself sitting in one of the bathrooms by the subway. My hands and legs are shaking and numbness is settling through my body. I feel something wet slide down the side of my leg and it's only when I see the drops of red on the floor that I understand.
It makes the tears fall harder.
#
Santana and Brittany meet me in the emergency room. The minute Britt see's me she starts bawling and Santana just stares at me her face a mixture of pity and horror. I can't find the words to tell them that I'm alright, can't even find the words to tell them what happened with Noah. Instead I pretend to sleep.
When the doctor finally discharges me, there are three people sitting in the plastic chairs each with equally grim expressions on their faces.
"What is he doing here?" I question. My voice sounds zombielike, dead, and the girls look between Noah and me with confusion. There are remnants of tear streaks down his face and he looks like he has literally been through the ringer. The thing that's disturbing, though, is that I can't seem to find it in me to care.
"Rachel," he whispers as new tears escape his eyes, "baby I promise it wasn't what it looked like, what you were thinking." A small scoff escapes my lips and my hands begin to shake. I can feel the words tumble from my lips, the one's that will break him.
"You should be proud of yourself," I whisper, "all it took was for me to walk in on you having one little affair for our relationship to crumble, for me to have a miscarriage. Congratulations, that takes some talent." The words coming from my mouth feel foreign, bitter. I can see the outrage on Santana and Brittany's face as they get between the two of us shoving Noah further away.
Before Noah can speak, before he can respond, I'm ushered away from him and out of the hospital. I chance one last glance over my shoulder to see him sitting in one of the chairs, his head between his hands.
#
Life isn't fair. Love isn't fair. Nothing is fair. If I've learned anything, that's what I will take away from this second chance; my if only.
The pain is so unbearable that I find myself shutting off by the time we make it back to San and Britt's. A few of our other friends are sitting around on the couch, their faces morose, each of them silent. I know, deep inside me that this will break us; all of us.
I'm helped into the back room and I can hear the noise level rising from the living room. I'm sure Santana and Brittany are filling everyone in. I can't seem to find it in me to care. I find myself curling up further under the blankets. I'm cold, empty. It takes me awhile to realize that it's a feeling that isn't going away with warmth.
I hear the knock on the front door, the yelling and the fighting. I can hear Noah's voice rising above the others begging to see me, begging for a chance to explain. I tense expecting the door to whip open. My eyes focus on the knob waiting for it to move. It never does.
Sometime, I'm not sure how long after, the tears begin to fall. Eventually I force my shaking body out of bed and into the small tub just off of the bedroom. I crank the water as hot as I can and find myself folding my body into the heat. My skin burns, reddens, prickles from it; I can't care.
Eventually I rest my head back against the cool porcelain of the tub. I picture my son and my life before as I listen to the small hum of movement from the other room. I let my eyes close as the tears fall.
'If only I hadn't wished for any of this' I think before I fall asleep.
#
The sounds of Beethoven are echoing around the room as I pry my eyes open. I can smell the familiar vanilla and jasmine incasing my senses. When I open my eyes, I'm surprised to find myself in the fancy familiar tub of my house with Finn.
I'm disoriented, confused, and a bit surprised to hear a steady knocking sound come from down the hall.
"Rachel?" the voice calls gently through the foyer.
I grab a towel and wrap it around me, pulling my robe off one of the small hooks and wrapping it over the towel. My feet pad against the carpet as I make my way down the stairs and stop just at the landing my eyes meeting those of my best friend.
"Tina called me," Santana replies, "I wanted to check and see if you were alright?"
"What are you doing here?" I question. Santana looks at me for a moment, her brow furrowing in concern as she brings her hand up to rest against my forehead.
"Are you alright, Rachel?" she asks softly, "because you are acting really strange."
I look at the non-familiar décor around me, my eyes settling on the collage of pictures on the wall and the curses begin tumbling from my lips.
A few things before the lynch mob occurs...
Rachel's future will be/is different than her previous future. I've said it before and I will say it again… it is NOT the same future she left.
Just because Rachel thinks she saw something happening with Noah, doesn't mean that what she saw is what she thought she saw. These two are dramatic and react sometimes without thinking as can be seen in most of the Glee episodes.
I really was hesitant to include the miscarriage or even use it as Rachel's catalyst for sending her back, the thing is (if I'm truly honest) it's what has been planned since chapter 2. It's a hard and emotional topic, yes. But it had to happen.
Finally, do you honestly think I would post this as P/R if it wasn't going to end up being P/R? Just saying (you doubters you)!
I was amazed by the response to the last chapter! You guys are truly wonderful!
N